#And like…. To be super on the nose… the fact that my family had two patriarchs (my mom and dad both pursuing capitalistic success)…

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

all the conversations on my dash about marriage are soooo interesting to me!! I talked to my partner’s mom last night about my intention to propose to her son this week and one of the things we talked about was how there’s this really insidious aspect of white feminism that convinces us that marriage and family are shameful or stupid to want because the real things in life are outside the home (ie. working under capitalism). That belief has historical roots in anti blackness and the split between white feminists and black feminists back in the 60s/70s. And idk it’s just so interesting to see how my mom, who raised me with a very strong foundation of second wave feminism, influenced my perception of pursuing my own happiness in ways that feel authentic to me! I love hard! And I want to be surrounded by love for the rest of my life! But in the back of my head, the entire six years of my relationship, her voice has been saying “you don’t need a man, marriage is not something to aspire to because it makes you weak and dependent.” Which is just so interesting bc she’s never said those exact words, but that’s the messaging that we get from second wave/white feminism. The thing is that I DO need other people! Nobody is actually independent, and it is a myth created by capitalism to fracture communities so that every single person is financially motivated to secure their own safety/basic needs without ever needing to rely on anyone else! Everybody needs their own personal house, car, furniture, dishes, electronics, etc because sharing is inherently “undeveloped”.

I was talking to my therapist about this recently and I brought up New Romantics, and how being a young adult in a cultural setting informed strongly by second wave feminism really convinced me (and a lot of people) that the Liberated way to be a woman was to not care about seeking that life-long stability in a partner. That to be free meant never opening yourself up to the vulnerability of a marital commitment. Which then leads into the lavender haze thinking of “the only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife” which, by self-gaslighting, devalues marriage (she’s valid for this! We should not be put in boxes like that!).

Idk I just have been thinking a lot about the right to legally unite families, and how much power that union can have, and that there is in fact nothing Wrong with wanting to exercise the political right to choose your family. And I know, having worked with hundreds if not thousands of domestic violence survivors, how dangerous marriage can be. Being legally and financially bound to someone, especially if you haven’t been working outside the home during your marriage, can truly fuck up a person’s life and their ability to leave a situation. Idk I’m just thinking out loud, but to tie this all back into the conversations on here the last few days about Taylor and Travis, I just think that for some people, the reflexive horror at her potentially being engaged could be coming from a similar place of devaluing the pursuit of family/love in the context of a white feminist capitalist culture, which harms us all.

The revolution starts at home! And that doesn’t mean that nobody should be making commitments to each other ever!! And nobody should be forced or coerced into lifelong commitments, either. Pursuing and entering a marriage with someone who respects you, empowers you, wants to work together towards a shared vision of the future, listens to you, and shares responsibilities with you is an AMAZING thing! And as my partner’s mom said so simply to me last night: it deserves to be celebrated!!

[soup-spoonn]

The weight of the world

A certain scene taken from this post by @medusas-graveyard

:D

(Kinda a long part, no TWs :3)

Danny had been living with the Wayne’s for about two months now, and they have long since found out about his Ghost King status.

He’s been exhausted, what with his king responsibilities, batfam responsibilities, and the Wayne kid responsibilities.

King responsibilities are the worst of them all though.

He started down the hall, hearing Dick say, “where’s Danny at?”

“Alfred replied with, “young master Daniel is still resting, and will be with us shortly.”

Then Damian chimed in begrudgingly, “he acts like the most fatigued person here.”

He opened the door to the dining room saying, “convincing actual gods not to destroy humanity is fatiguing, Dames, give me a break.” He ruffled Damian’s hair, who slapped his hand away, not quite registering Danny’s words.

“Danny, what?!” Dick asked incredulously.

“Nuthin’ important,” he said, yawning and stretching widely, his sharp canines bearing for a moment.

He then dug into the plate of food Alfred brought him, ignoring the concerned looks shared around the table.

-

“So, Danny, wanna talk about what you said earlier? At breakfast?” Dick asked, being the fourth person to today.

“Mmm… no.” He said, for the fourth time today.

“Uhm, well what you said was… concerning to say the least.” He said, trying to convince him to talk.

“Mmm… no.” He repeated shortly.

He wanted to tell them about it, but he knows how his newfound family gets.

When something bad could happen, they all jump to conclusions and start worrying and checking in and spying on you.

It’s sweet really, but unhealthy as hell.

Not to mention annoying.

Nope, Danny is not up for the weeks of stalking. Damn his sleep deprived brain.

-

“Danny, we need to talk.”

Lovely. Bruce himself is asking to talk.

“Mmm… no, thank you.” He was more polite, as he literally owes this man his life and afterlife.

“Danny.” He said, and Danny stopped in his tracks at the seriousness in his voice.

His heart literally stopped.

“I’m sorry, but I already said all that’s important! There’s nothing else to be said.”

“Maybe, but you should’ve said something. Is that why you’ve been getting home late the past week?”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, B.”

“It’s not your fault, but you’re too young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Who isn’t though? And anyway, I’m used to it! You know, one time I brought the entirety of my hometown back from the ghost zone? Not without help, but still!”

Bruce looked taken aback, and replied with, “that’s not a good thing to be used to, Danny.”

“There’s no turning back time. Except for Clockwork, but he can’t change this timeline.” He said with a shrug.

Bruce shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Danny, you should probably talk to your siblings, they’re very concerned.”

Danny heaved a sigh, “think I could just tell Dick? He’s the most approachable. And he likes gossiping, thinks he’s sneaky. It’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, that should suffice.” Bruce responded with a sigh, walking away afterwards.

-

An hour later, Danny told Dick about the thing with the gods and all that, and Dick looked ponderous, and asked, “how do you convince them? And which gods are they?”

Danny turned pink and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I showed them my memories of you guys… they’re sometimes super nice, and they need a reminder of humanity and their kindness at times… you know?”

Dick looked like he was gonna cry.

“You! Use memories of us! To save the world?!”

“… yeah…” Danny replied, still pink.

“Awwe! I’m gonna tell everyone!”

Danny let out a sigh as Dick skipped off happily, then he continued to his bedroom and closed the door.

He sat in his room at his computer until dinner, then afterwards he returned.

Until it was dark out.

-

One thing Danny really doesn’t like about Gotham is the fact that the smog over the city makes it so he can’t see the stars at night.

Sometimes he just… goes ghost and flies to above the city, above the smog, and the death, and the pain and misery the city harbors.

He doesn’t tell his family, but he’s ninety percent sure Jason already knows.

He sat in his airy sanctuary, gazing up into the stars longingly, feeling his core vibrate happily.

The stars are so incredibly beautiful and bright.

Danny smiled softly as he felt another presence floating over to him.

Superman.

He turned to the large man, who often joined him in his stargazing, to talk about life.

He’s probably told Superman more than he has Bruce.

About GIW, his responsibilities as Ghost King, his parents and Jazz…

He misses Jazz so dearly.

The two sat in silence for about two minutes, until Superman spoke first, “how’s life going, kid?”

“…I miss my sister.” He said calmly, still staring blankly at the stars.

Superman didn’t share much with Danny, as he likes just helping the boy with his troubles.

He knows of his family, who attacked him three months ago when he told them his secret.

He then traveled toward Gotham, to try to escape the GIW and his parents.

Jason then found him in Crime Alley, about to be attacked by a gang, and took him to Bruce to keep him safe.

Clark knows now that the boy lost everything he loved, and was hoping to be ended by the gang, so he could go back to the stars. (As he said)

Bruce and his family gave him something to live for, and he took a while to trust again after the two very people who raised him tried to hurt him out of- what, fear? Rage? Curiosity? It baffles Clark what their reasoning was for attacking their son.

“I know son, and I bet she misses you too.” He said, offering him the smoothie he brought for him.

Danny accepted gratefully, sipping on the smoothie- ooo strawberry!- as Superman smiled, and his Justice League communication device vibrated, disguised as a watch, and he sighed, looking at the message sent by Batman.

“Sorry, Danny, I have to go, you know, Justice League stuff.” He waved and started toward the closest zeta beam.

Danny sighed, supposing that he might as well go home and to bed, as he hadn’t brought his phone this time.

-

“Danny’s not in his room?” Tim asked, “ where is he?”

“I don’t know, he left his phone here!” Dick replied, panicked.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

“Danny! You startled me! Where were you?!” Dick asked, spinning around to look at him.

“I went on a walk.” He said calmly.

“We’re in Gotham, you can’t just go on a walk.” Jason replied flatly.

“I… I do that sometimes.”

“Whatever…” Jason said, defeated.

“Anyway, we’re gonna play mario kart, wanna join?” Tim piped up.

“Sure!”

Danny and Tim walked off toward the game room together happily.

-

After Jason kicked everyone’s asses at two games, then teamed up with Dick for the third, everyone was too bummed or pissed to play another round and went to bed.

Dick stayed, as he said he wanted to have a conversation with Danny. He was nervous, but complied.

I will probably continue this but idk :Þ

[natriae]

10:23pm

"can i tell ya a secret"

"sure" you whispered in response as you snuggled deeper into Atsumu's neck. The two of you had just gotten home from a long day at work and were ready to fall asleep in each other's arms.

"i thought," he started, giggling a bit, "i thought ya had a crush on sunarin for a long time" you felt him shake his head back and forth lightly before continuing, "i was stupid though"

Without seeing his face clearly you could tell he was scrunching his nose remembering how oblivious he was to your love.

"nah he's not my type," you teased as you moved your body completely over his using him as a bed.

"oh yeah, what is your type?" 'tsumu questioned, wanting to see you face flush from embarrassment. His hand reached for your hair petting it to convince you to lean up and look at him in the face. You lifted your arms up and used your forearms to keep you lifted above his head. Subconsciously, his hands wrapped around your waist keeping you stationed over his lean body.

You giggled as you leaned down so your noses touched as told him, "i like boys who are loud and kinda annoying," you watched his face pout at the comment before leaning down and giving a soft kiss on his lips, "and i like boys who are twins, and love to play volleyball," you furthered your reasoning with your hands playing with his hair.

"oh well that doesn't set me apart to much," he prodded. You moved your legs so they rested on each side of his waist and felt the beginning of a boner form in his boxers. You shook your head and kept talking knowing how much this was fulling his ego.

"i like boys who seem come off as gay," you commented, reminding him that you thought he had a thing for Sakusa before you really knew him. You smiled at his reaction before whispering, "i like boys who have really pretty brown eyes that look a little yellow in the sunlight. I like boys who get pouty when someone does something kind for them," immediately thinking of when he started tearing up at the fact that you and osamu worked hard to make him nice lunches for the Olympics.

"i love boys who have big egos even though it gets on my nerves sometimes," you watched his pouty lips turn into a smirk as red flooded his face in pride. You smiled back and grinded lightly into him as you spoke your next words, "i love boys who are such gentlemen, but whisper dirty comments to me when we're supposed to be serious," you couldn't help but let out a big smile thinking about all the times he's ruined professional dinners by accidentally making you blush to hard. You leaned down and left little kisses up his neck to his jaw, "i looovvee boys who have big bushy eyebrows,"

kiss

"boys who have big meaty thighs"

kiss

"boys who always have a big smile on their face just to cheer everyone else up"

kiss

"and i especially love boys who are super protective and possessive,"

"still can't tell if yer describin' me" he teases with his hands interlocked behind his head and his eyes closed.

"oh really," You leaned up, "i like boys who are lowkey perverts, but won't admit to it,"

His body immediately shot up and held you on his lap, "hey! that's not nice," he shouted with his eyebrows drawn together. You laughed at his reaction before holding his face in your hands.

"i love boys who love their family," you said to cool him down leaving a light kiss on his nose.

Reaching down between you body you pulled his hard cock out of his boxers and moved your panties to the side before inserting it.

You left the joking aside and continued your affirmations as you tried to sink further down his cock without being prepped. "i love boys who's name's start with A, and who love dying their hair because it sets them apart"

"i love boys who love animals and will always swerve on the road if it means the animals are safe." you moved further down his cock, but the moment wasn't sexual. He turned the two of you over so you were on your back as he held himself on top of you. It was nothing more then two people in love.

You stared into his eyes and said, "my type is you and only you". The strong man leaned down and left a small kiss on your lips before letting himself relax complete over your body. He was like a big soft weighted blanket. One arm you had wrapped around his back while the other messaged his hair. "'sumu," you whispered into the night air of the master bedroom, but there was no response just quiet snores from the man on top of you. You giggled and continued to message his scalp.

Moments like these were important, moments where Atsumu was recognized for himself. Miya Atsumu a man who loves his mom more than anything, and would drop everything if his brother needed him, not Miya Atsumu MSBY star setter, not Olympic champion Miya Atsumu, not Osamu's twin, or the golden fox, but his own ordinary person. Who was important for just being himself. <3

[loganwritesprobably]

Planning a Future With You

This didn't do very well on the poll I posted a while back but this is my blog and I do what I want. Also introducing Niji for the first time on this blog

Content/Warnings: Crocodile, Niji and Law headcanons, GN!Reader, talk of marriage and children (both positive and negative), both canon-compliant and "de-programmed" Niji mentioned

Crocodile has always been a future plans kind of guy

He likes to plan ahead, and know what his next steps are, at all times

When you begin to date, he doesn't factor you in initially, assuming your relationship won't last more than six months

And then it does

He begins to factor you into his plans slowly, over time, until eventually you're irreversibly woven into everything

He tells you none of this of course

But in his mind, his future would be wrong without you

He wants to marry you, eventually, with a grand ceremony, all of the bells and whistles included

Nothing but the best for you

Neither of you have actually asked the other about these sorts of things, but it will happen when you're both ready

Already, Crocodile knows what sort of ring he wants to propose with, and how he wants to propose

Crocodile hasn't thought of children

He had a rough childhood, and he's not the most pleasant man and he knows it

It's hard to raise a child, and whether he's cut out for that is pretty up in the air

He'd consider it, if that was something you wanted

Maybe you could adopt an older child, he thinks that would be more his speed if anything

Niji thinks marriage is a given between you

He's a prince, getting married is a non-negotiable, and he likes you more than most. You're not as irritating as a lot of people he'd considered pursuing in the past

And someone has to continue the Germa bloodline, who better than him?

If you were to date a de-programmed Niji though, things would be different

Kids, for him, would be an absolute no

Even with how much his personality has changed, he still finds kids super grating and he couldn't raise a "snot nosed brat"

If you disagreed on this, it'd be a pretty big issue, it isn't a topic up for discussion

Double income no kids lifestyle for Niji

He's not super sold on weddings either, but that's something he's more willing to discuss

Niji wouldn't want something incredibly extravagant, rather he'd prefer a more intimate ceremony

He doesn't actually want to be a perfect Prince of Germa and having a large elaborate wedding would remind him of that

A smaller ceremony, with his siblings, your family if you want them there, and all your friends is more suited to him

Though he'd absolutely brag about being married to you after the fact if you did get married

Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to him

For Law, pretty much everything is up for discussion

He's far more hesitant about kids than marriage

He's still not convinced the two of you are in it for the long haul - how could you want to be with him for that long?

If you were to get married, he'd absolutely leave all the planning and decisions to you. Tell him when you need him to have an opinion, and when to be there

He'd still get a little teary at the sight of you in your getup, no matter how neutral he is on the entire thing

For him, kids is hard

He had good parents as a young boy, and the thought of providing that is nice, warms his little cold heart

But he's also intimately familiar with how cruel the world can be, and he isn't sure he likes the thought of bringing a child into it

But some children are already in that world, and alone

All that to say, he's unsure, and very unfecided

For him, it would heavily depend on what you wanted, and there would be a lot of lengthy discussions to be had on the topic

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

[animeredhead101]

Dad Hood DP x DC Crossover

Completed

The Devil Wore a T-Shirt by DisillusionedDanny :

After a one-night stand, Danny finds himself pregnant with Red Hood's kid. Now he finds himself as a dad to a small child with an important decision to make. Does he tell Red Hood he has a child? Or does Danny raise the kid by himself? Word Count: 24,778 Completed

Nothing But The Dead And Dying (back in my little town) by Umei_no_Mai :

Dan has just been rescued and is feeling a bit shorter than usual. Jason Todd has just been petitioned like he's a feudal warlord, which has never happened before but he could maybe get used to. They can probably make this work so long as Batman doesn't stick his nose in. Yeah, like that'll happen. Word Count: 123,925 Completed

my boy, my son by DisillusionedDanny :

In desperate need of a vacation, Danny has Clockwork turn him into a five year old so that he can have the childhood he never got. Soon, five year old Danny finds himself running wild in Gotham only to be kidnapped by some weird teenager in a costume who decides that Danny is going to be his son. What's Danny to do but accept this new weird guy as his new dad and become a super cool crime fighting vigilante with his new adopted family who have no clue he's a two thousand year old ghost king? Word Count: 18,210

Dad Hood by JaxinKH :

After a wish gone wrong, Danny has reverted to a child and sent to Gotham. Jason doesn't know how the kid ended up in his appartement, but he is now stuck looking after him. How hard could it be?

Word Count: 18,236

On-going

It's Not Sugar by ConspiracyCrows :

Ellie is destabilized and nearly killed by Vlad while trying to make another, "better", clone of Danny. In order to stabilize her she was de-aged to about 7, and now has chronic issues balancing her ecto the same way a type one diabetic has issues balancing blood sugars. In fact that's the cover story the pair use when Danny enrolls Ellie at Gotham Academy. The one favor he will allow Vlad to do for them. While Vlad seems to have finally come to his senses about Ellie, Danny won't let him anywhere near her ever again. Which is why they moved to Gotham in the first place, Vlad won't step foot there. It also helps that Lady Gotham is more than happy to have the Realms' Ambassador to the Living in her streets. They settle into Crime Alley, and Danny may or may not have forgotten to introduce himself to the Haunt owner, assuming Gotham would handle the niceties as he gets Ellie settled, and handles the pressing issues of the negotiations between the city, the realms, and those denizens of both who want or need one thing or other. Word Count: 23,052 On-going

Imprint by Hashtag_DriveBy :

He screwed his eyes shut, held his breath, desperately wished that he was back in his safehouse, alone and blissfully unaware. But the weight in his hands remained, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the bean-shaped 'fuck you' the Lazarus Pit had kindly bestowed upon him, arms and legs folded up against his front beneath off-white muslin while tiny lips smacked softly.

What the fuck.

What the hell was Jason supposed to do now?

Word Count: 119,791 On-going

If you find a vigilante in the dumpster by lunamugetsu :

The plan was simple, Jazz and her now de aged brother would go lay low in Gotham, act as a mother-son duo. Wait as Danny heals up by absorbing the ambient ectoplasm leaking from the city and Vlad gives the green light that he has a safe place they could stay. Plus with the blessing from the Ghost of Gotham and knowing that even the GIW wouldn't dare to encroach on Batman's territory, it was a pretty safe plan. That was until a certain vigilante just keeps on finding himself in their dumpster. / / It was a normal night of patrol for Jason. Beating up a bunch of criminals. Shooting them with bullets (they're rubber bullets Bruce! Calm down!) Get stabbed by them. Pass out from blood loss in the place he was taking refuge in Wake up in an apartment, his wounds bandaged and all. And to a black haired blue eyed kid staring at him. "I found you in the garbage!" Word Count: 120,002 On-going

Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away by FearlessHades :

After escaping from the GIW, Danny crash lands in Gotham. He's six years old, his entire life has burned behind him, and one of the Gotham vigilantes is running around with a stifled Core. What's a kid to do?

A Jason Adopts Danny fic featuring De-aged!Danny, family feels, and Jason's Grand Master Plan going completely off the rails.

Word Count: 53,233

The (Un)Living Weapon by Anonymous :

They had only planned on raiding the facility. They hadn't expected it to be barren. Apart from a kid, chained and muzzled. With eyes of Lazarus water. Jason didn't intend on getting a kid out of the whole ordeal, but unlike Bruce, he is ready to kill to keep him safe. Word Count: 47,483

Mending a Family by Katelover98 :

Sequel to Creating a Family.

I decided to write this after getting such a good response on that fic. However, I wrote this new fic here instead of updating it in case anyone liked the open ending and didn't want more to spoil the way I left it. There won't be an overarching plot but a bunch of one-shots that show how Jason went from no family to a family that would kill and die for him.

This fic won't have a set schedule so I'll update when inspiration hits. That means one week I might update daily and other times it might take a while. It'll depend

Fair warning, I don't know much about Roy Harper, but I've done a bit of research so when he shows up, hopefully, he'll be well-written.

Word Count: 45,852

Visitant Lights by Shynnohwen for Cielle_Noire, AcesAndSpades72, foldingfacets :

After a run in with Vlad that left the entire Fenton family turned into little children and a subsequential kidnapping by what they think are ninjas the Fenton family escape to Gotham to lay low and figure out how to reverse their ages as Sam and Tucker help where they can, growing sense of dread as months goes by and they are no closer to fixing this. Danny, frustrated at lack of progress and tiny body, runs into the Red Hood while stealing his wheel to replace the one he broke. This results in Jason and the Pit Madness co-parenting, Dick mistaken for a stripper, Tucker unknowingly becoming Oracle's archnemesis, Sam believing the local coffee addict is a serial killer, Damian taking on an apprentice, various members of the Rogue Gallery becoming self-appointed uncles and aunts, Amity Park becoming a hellhole full of supernaturally powerful people trying to survive, Damian trying to get a certain Fenton adopted into his family, and Joker developing severe and crippling phasmophobia. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now has a TV Tropes! https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/VisitantLights Word Count : 82,890

[whalesforhands]

Did you u know twins can have different biological fathers?

The specific ask about, if reader was gonna have bio kids got me thinking, what if twins but different fathers?

And then fact checked, and apparently it's very rare, but possible!!!

my theory on this matter is that you have to make love, instead of a quick nut for something like this to happen.

Sorry for ranting, it's 4 in the morning in my side of the world, and all i can think is about Satosugu, ahhhh i need sleep!!!!

GAHAHAH THAT’S SO CUTE

masterlist

gojo satoru & geto suguru getting more kids, and the fact that they’re having another set of twins has the nanamimi duo absolutely losing it, jumping around and squealing

the girls are absolutely defending you fiercely during the time you’re starting to show, shooing off gojo for even breathing too hard near you, gripping onto geto’s shirt and stretching the fabric whilst trying to drag him off of you when he goes in for a hug, holding your hands to walk you to the bedroom, running to tsumiki when you mention a small food craving and trying to figure out how to make it via the internet when their fathers aren’t home yet, because “we’re older and can totally help out!”

megumi is the most intrigued, never having had a sibling younger than him before. so he’s the one putting his head against your tummy the most to really listen to the lives growing inside you, looking up at you with wide eyes every time he hears a kick

since he and the twins are the same age, it’s often wondered if they were triplets everytime the family ate out.

(nanamimi have crowned him an honorary triplet. tsumiki approves. gives more of a reason for him to join them on their tea parties.)

satosugu refuse to let you out the house. initially it was already super hard to leave in the first place for the most menial of chores like getting more lightbulbs or more milk without their chaperoning. now it’s close to impossible even if you just want to get ice cream at the convenience store with tsumiki.

no. don’t go outside. there’s bad air, germs on every surface, curses at every lurking corner. please sit down, look pretty, give them a kiss and what you’re craving will be in your hands in an instant.

you look gorgeous pregnant. period.

now imagine when they pop out of you, only for them to look like actual carbon copies of their fathers, much to everyone’s shock. like, i’m not even kidding.

maybe there’s a small hint of your features in the curve of the nose, the shape of the earlobes… but overall the twins look exactly like their paternal counterparts, down to the exact same personalities and little traits

and that means their clinginess to you. the men already have it bad enough that the 4 kids are constantly hanging around and off of you, following you around the home like hatchlings to a mother duck, now the two extra little copycats are taking every bit of your spare, leftover attention meant for them

crying in the middle of the night and not settling down when either of the men are the ones hushing and cradling them, smacking their chins whenever they try to bottlefeed, crying even more if it’s not your face being the first one they see in the morning…

why are you so adorably popular?

they don’t regret having kids with you, but they do realise how fortunate they were to be able to skip the infant stage with the first 4

KOFI twins extra

masterlist

[acewithapaintbrush]

A gift for @emthimofnight who's Sonadow fankid Stellar has stolen my heart. Inspired by this comic and my firm believe that Sonic is a little shit who would definitely hold something like that over Shadows head forever

🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔

“Should I… leave?”

Stellar jerks her head around and stops rummaging through the cupboards. She doubts she'll find the shoes she is looking for anyway. They had grown a bit tight the last time she'd worn them and her Papa had given her a suspicious side eye when she'd still refused to get rid of them. 

He hates clutter. Says her Dad is messy enough for all three of them. 

And anyway! The shoes are pretty much immediately forgotten the moment her friend's words reach Stellar’s ears. 

“Why?” she asks. “I thought we'd spent the day together?”

Camellia only spares her a quick glance before she looks away again. She is wringing her hands the way she does when she is nervous about something. Stellar wonders what could have caused that and follows her gaze. She tilts her head with a frown. All she can see are her parents being… well. Her parents. 

“I mean,” Cam gestures helplessly at the other couple, keeping her voice low. “This is obviously a bad time.”

Stellar joins her side and keeps looking between her friend and her parents. She has no clue what has gotten into Cam. 

Across the room her Dad crosses his arms behind his head and taps one foot up and down. His grin is playful, much like Stellar’s own when she is in the mood to tease but his voice has an edge to it. 

“You know I'm right, Shads! Just admit it!”

Her Papa scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest, a perfect imperfect mirror of his partner. Sometimes Stellar marvels at the fact that two hedgehogs can be so similar and so different at the same time. 

“You? Being right? Haven't seen any pigs fly lately.”

“Oh. That comeback was almost witty. Have you been practicing?”

Ah. They are arguing. Again. Or maybe still? She vaguely remembers a friendly conversation over breakfast about an old mission or something slowly turning into a heated debate about who took down more Badniks. Are they still on about that? 

She sighs. Seems like it's going to be one of those days, huh? Stellar ignores her parents and smirks at her flustered friend. She is so uptight sometimes. Kinda cute. 

“They are just squabbling. Don't tell me your parents never do that.”

Cam blinks, surprised, before she sniffs a little, nose in the air and all. “My parents never argue. Certainly not in front of guests.”

“Yeah, sure. The hedgehog with the giant hammer and temper issues and the literal cat with fire powers never argue.” Before Camellia can swipe at her arm Stellar continues “And anyway, you are not a guest, you are practically family.”

Her friend's face is suddenly as red as a tomato and she turns away to delicately cough into her hand. Stellar raises an eyebrow. Cam is acting super weird today. 

Her parents have kept arguing meanwhile. It's pretty much just white noise to their daughter after all these years. Stellar tunes back in just in time to hear Papa insult Dad’s memory which has obviously suffered from too many hits during fights. 

And Stellar knows that glint that enters her Dad's eyes, the way his smirk grows deceptively soft. She can do nothing but groan and slap a hand against her forehead as the blue hedgehog sighs and saunters over to the mantelpiece. She has seen this song and dance one too many times to think she can stop what's coming next. 

He picks up one of her baby pictures and presses it against his chest. “Maybe you are right. Maybe my memory isn't as good as it used to be.”

Stellar is as always reluctantly impressed with the way her Dad is able to put so much emotion into utter bullshit. He sounds like he is on the verge of crying and Stella can hear Cam gasp softly in dismay.

Maybe they should have left after all. 

“The memories begin to fade,” he laments and are those tears in the corners of his eyes? Ugh. “But you know what memory will never fade? My most precious one?”

Papa grits his teeth. She thinks it might take all his strength to not jump across the room and do something he might (a very slight might) regret. 

“How Stellar called me Dada first.”

It's a favorite story of his and he pulls it out every time Papa annoys him or he feels like he is losing an argument. 

And her Papa is smart and strong and level headed and cool. But he is also super bad at hiding how much that ‘betrayal’ still eats at him. 

“You are never letting this go, are you? You are pathetic!”

“Pot meet kettle. And why should I? One of her precious first milestones and it was all for moi!”

“I taught her how to walk.”

“And I taught her how to ride a bicycle, which is even more difficult.”

“I taught her how to swim, something you actually need for survival.”

“Oh yeah, if you call throwing her into the deep end and telling her ‘to figure it out’ teaching.”

“That's not how it happened!” Papa turns to Stellar proving once and for all that both are aware of their audience and don't care. They probably enjoy embarrassing her in front of her friend, the sadists. “That didn't happen!” 

She rolls her eyes. “I know, Papa.”

“Oh right!” Dad cuts in, outraged. “That was me! Your beloved husband!” 

“We are not married.”

“For good reason!”

Stellar does her best to ignore the two of them. Camellia still looks bewildered but there is a reluctant smile blossoming on her face, as if she can't help but be amused despite the awkwardness. 

“Now I know where you get it from.”

Stellar gasps and clutches her chest. “How dare you!” She pauses and her pretend outrage turns a bit more genuine. “Wait! What do you mean? Get what?”

Cam has the audacity to snicker at her and it is not a beautiful sound to Stellar’s ears, nope, not at all! “Oh. You know.”

She doesn't. She totally doesn't. 

She is about to demand some answers when the expression on Cam’s face stops her cold. She turns back to her parents and… oh no. 

Why is she even surprised anymore?

Papa has crossed the distance and has the back of Dad's neck in a tight grip. He is growling and flashing his teeth. 

“I think it's time for you to shut your mouth.”

Dad just leers and leans closer, pressing his chest against the other hedgehog, tangling his hand in black and red quills. 

“Why don't you make me?”

Stellar grabs Camellia’s hand and pulls her out of the room as fast as she can. 

“Oh-Kay. That's our cue to go. Go go go! Don't look back!”

“Wait what? Why? Shouldn't we stop them? What if they hurt-?”

“Nope! You do not want to get between them right now.” She shudders and quickens her steps. “Trust me!”

There is the sound of a muffled crash behind her, like two bodies falling to the floor, her Papa saying something triumphant, her Dad laughing. 

Stellar loves her parents. But God! They can be so embarrassing!

**********

They are the worst, I love them! This was supposed to be really short and grew into this... Hope you like it❤️

[undercovercameron]

a domesticated rafe cameron

summary: a bf headcanon for sir rafe m.f. cameron

notes: *NSFW NEAR THE END* i have been seeing so many headcanons for rafe as a bf recently and i used to do these all the time for other fandoms and people and holy fuck i miss and love them.. allow me to indulge myself. also a lot of these are not simply him being touchy or super cute positive ones bc he’s canonically a murderer and drug addict and felon sooo akdjdjd we all of course romanticize him but i just thought i’d say that. lemme know what you think !

tags: rafe cameron x reader

i think rafe is a very complicated kind of lover

he’s a complex ass dude as it is, so that obviously reflects in your relationships

your relationship probably started unconventionally, either because of a fuck up or drunken mistake or maybe even meeting him randomly on a golf course or on the beach and just immediately being drawn to each other

he wants someone that challenges him a Little bit but really just wants someone to go with the flow and let him take the lead

he already gets enough direction and bossy shit from his family

(probably a couple arguments have sparked because of that; he sees too much of rose or ward in you. it’s also something that draws him to you, though, so take it with a grain of salt)

on the topic of arguments, you two are no stranger to them

he always ends up apologizing though, even if you started it—he’d just much rather have your mouth on his than have it yelling at him and knows there’s always a way to get you back on his side

he’s a proud man, so his apologies are usually in the form of him complimenting you or giving entirely hypothetical situations in which he Possibly Might Be Sorry

you take it because it’s probably the best you’re gonna get

he shows his love and affection in a little different ways that other people you’ve dated

of course he’s no stranger to PDA

in fact it only puffs his chest that you want to be seen with him and touch him

he’ll never admit it, but he loves when you kiss his face

like duh,

but not just his lips, he really likes when you kiss him on the temple or just press your face to his cheek or peck at his jaw

he also likes when you hold onto his belt when getting his attention or trying to move him

a lot of your dates involve watching a movie or TV show, because truth be told he is a home body

maybe not his home, but def a home body

your house is a reminder that he is apart of your life; he sees the pictures, the movie tickets, his favorite chips (salt and vinegar, ew i know), or spares of toothbrushes and his clothes in your closet

in any social situation he is either looking at you, thinking of looking at you, touching you, or asking people where you are

he cannot stand to make small talk without his emotional support girlfriend at his side

you’re just so much funnier than all these other people

he prides himself on his ability to make you blush, and does it any chance he gets

he doesn’t really get to laugh a lot, as he is either in distress or about to get punched or reprimanded, so you’re always whispering some joke into his ear to get him to laugh. your success rate is much better than anyone else’s in his life

he knew he loved you when you grabbed his hand during a dinner you were at and some politician walked in with a very apparent and badly concealed nose job. you just mouth “oh my god” and he had to snort to cover up his laugh

you were also all dolled up and cute and sexy that night so that may have had something to do with him knowing he loved you

he is also a great communicator

it’s not in his nature to hide his feelings because they’re so fucking obvious on that expressive face of his

and he never knew he could have so much fun texting until you came along

now he’s a regular emoticon user

weird, right?

now onto spicy things,

you’ve never known a partner to ask you how you feel more than Rafe

it’s a praise thing, you think

he wants to hear that he feels good, that right there, that he fucks you so good, that he’s perfect for you

the nonverbal sign that all those are true is when you throw your head back and a gasp is caught in your throat

the very idea that your breath is stolen every time he does something good makes his heart skip a beat

his cheeks get very red while you’re having sex, so your cool fingers are usually petting them or pressed near them

you have a thing for his legs

i mean come on

he just walks around like that all day

he walks around with a dick like that in his pants all day, and you’re supposed to just ignore it?!

absolutely not

you especially like when he wears those hoochie daddy 5 inch inseam swim trunks, because you get to see where his skin gets a little paler and softer and it makes you get goosebumps at the thought of where it leads

those trunks are a treat usually, saved for a special occasion where he doesn’t have to be around his family and he can have you in his lap, hand trapped between your legs

let’s just say you two fuck like rabbits

two beautiful young adults, what else occupies your time?

it gets a little annoying for other people when you’re apart of their dinner party, because you’re always late, but then learn to just deal with it

it’s better to not have a sexually frustrated rafe cameron that accidentally stabs through his plate of rice and vegetables like that one time at the island club with your parents when you licked up a drop of lemon sauce from your chin and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head

decidedly not a great time or place to act like that

anyways,

i just think while yours’ and rafe’s relationship def has its ups and downs like all other relationships, your recovery period after an argument is remarkably high

you both know you’re not mad anymore, so it’s not worth it to be bad communicators and make it worse

at the end of the day, there’s always space for you in his bed, and he always welcomes you with a slap on the ass and a whisper of “we’re totally fucking in the shower tomorrow”

(and yes. you do)

notes: i hope this doesn’t seem to scatterbrained, i may or may not end up adjusting or editing this later to be closer to what i think would be him

[little-diable]

One day you're gone – Tommy Shelby

Let's just ignore the fact that songs are my biggest inspiration, ok? Alright. Inspired by "one day you're gone" by "gavn!". I know this is super angsty, but I think it's a beautiful fic, so please give it a chance. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She died years ago, and yet he still dreams of her, forced to relive their moments together every single night

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of his wife (sorry for killing us off), this is sad, like really

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.3k words)

One day you're here and one day you're gone, you beat to the drum but you keep movin' on, ain't nobody knows when the next name's called, ‘cause one day you're here and one day you're gone

He dreamt of her, hands trembling from feeling his fingers interlaced with hers just moments before waking, heart racing from clinging to her like a blanket made to protect his shuddering body, lips tingling from kissing her breathless, at least in his dream. 

Those were the nights where Tommy woke with a cry, unable to wipe away the tears clinging to his cheeks as he choked on his gasps. Ever since he had been a little boy, he had been forced to let go of people, a dull pain Tommy had slowly adapted to. Until (y/n) had been ripped from his side, leaving him and the life they had begun to build together. 

He dreamt of her nightly, of their moments together, from childhood memories, to their wedding day. He saw it all so clearly as if he was watching recordings, though not in black and white and without sound, but full of colour. A bright splash of life like she had been, the light in his darkness, the colour in his grey life, the guiding hand that was now one with the soil he still felt clinging to his fingers. 

“Today we mourn the loss of our (y/n), daughter, friend, wife.” Tears blurred Tommy’s vision as he stood near the coffin, hands interlaced in front of himself to try and stop his hands from trembling. He, Arthur, some of their friend’s and (y/n)’s father had carried the coffin up to the grave, unable to speak as the weight of their sadness weighed them down. 

“Thomas.” The bucket filled with soil was reached out for him to take, forcing his eyes to find the dark ones of their pastor. With a shaky exhale leaving him, he let his fingers disappear in the cold soil, taking just enough to throw it down onto her coffin, covering a small part of the dark wood. 

“How could you do this to me?” His voice carried exhaustion, speaking to those who were listening, the holy Father promising to protect those finding his way to him, people like (y/n) who had been ripped from this life too early. 

Tommy rose to his feet as his fingers found a cigarette, alighting it before making his way out his empty bedroom. One of the places that held too many memories. One of the places he couldn’t part from just yet because his nose could still pick up on the scent of her perfume, because his eyes could still see her soft frame lying next to him, even though it had been years. 

“Oh, Tommy.” She had her back arched off the mattress, legs wrapped around his middle. The two had gotten married hours ago, saying yes to one another in the company of their families and friends, finally reunited after the war. Tears had been shed that day, tears that were falling now once again, though these tears were urged on by desperation, by love, by lust. 

His hips met hers with every thrust, drawing moans from (y/n) as his cock nudged her sweet spot. Tommy couldn’t rip his eyes from her features, the beautiful face he had thought of in France, clinging to his memories as if they were the oxygen he needed to survive. 

“My beautiful wife,” his words left (y/n) moaning, walls fluttering around his cock. The scent of her perfume wrapped itself around Tommy, luring him even further into the grasp she had on his body and soul, a promise made to last for eternity, a promise broken in only a few months time. 

“I love you, Thomas, I always will.” 

Rain was pouring from the sky, as if nature was sharing Tommy’s pain, missing the one who had spent most of her time in their garden, the one who had talked to the flowers as if they were her friends, the one who had watched birds pick up the seeds she had left for them as if they were pilgrims sharing her path. A kind hearted soul who had paid the price for a life Tommy hadn’t been able to protect her from. 

Tommy didn’t know how to make it through life without (y/n) by his side, he hadn’t lived a single day without her being part of his closest circle, glued together from birth, brought together by their mothers who had been friends for years. Ever since their first days together, Tommy had loved her, first as a friend, then as a lover, then as a husband, and now as a widower. 

“Can I kiss you?” Tommy’s voice filled the evening, forcing her wide eyes towards his bright ones. 

“What?” Nervous chuckles bubbled out of the young girl. She struggled to hold eye contact with Tommy, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, unable to rip herself away from the boy. It was Tommy’s fourteenth birthday, celebrating his day with (y/n) glued to his side, chasing him through the streets both knew like the back of their hands. 

“It’s my birthday wish.” Heat flushed through her as Tommy carefully cupped her cheek. She knew that he had kissed other girls before, locking lips with those she envied, but not once had she been kissed, waiting for Tommy to finally give in. 

“Do it.” His lips were on hers in an instant, drawing a surprised gasp from (y/n). It was a clumsy kiss both had to adjust to, but once her nerves finally let go of her, allowing the young girl to get used to the new sensation, she found herself enjoying the new feeling. 

With a sigh rumbling through Tommy, he plopped down on the stairs leading up to their house, stairs she had walked with naked feet whenever she had finished her garden work. The garden had withered away with her passing as Tommy hadn’t found the strength to step foot on the grass she had cared for. 

Whatever it was that now spurred him on, it forced Tommy back to his feet. The cigarette was long forgotten as he stepped foot on the wet grass, his shirt and underwear instantly soaked through by the pouring rain. He had his bright eyes focused on the weathered flowers, coming to a halt in front of one of many flowerbeds. 

His hands started working, reaching for the dead flowers to rip them from the lifeless soil. And for the first time in years, he felt connected to (y/n), clinging to what she had once planted. Tears once again ran down Tommy’s cheeks as he kept working, only halting his movements as his glassy eyes found the rising sun painting the sky orange and pink. 

“I’m sorry it took me this long, love.” The words were whispered, eyes unable to leave the sky as he made plans to revitalise their garden. He’d never be able to bring her back, but at least he could keep the memory of his loving wife alive. 

Broken bones, you live and learn, ‘cause we don't know that a good thing ends, but someday I hope that it'll all make sense, one day you're here and one day you're gone

[aealzx]

Letting the drape over the infirmary entrance drop closed to muffle some of the external noises, Don made his way to the kitchen to finally oblige Mikey’s demand to feed everyone. It was normal to have a commotion coming from the room, so he wasn’t surprised at the noise of boisterous chatter filtering out from the entrance. Especially since it looked like Casey and Mom April were there early, already seated at the table and asking questions.

“Actually, the Donnie is the feisty one.”

Don reached the kitchen entrance as Raphael responded to Casey’s comment, Raphael’s voice saturated with amusement at the fact. Don hadn’t caught what Casey said before, but it was easy to hear him now.

“What? You gotta be kidding. Don is the hot head in their family?” Casey gawked, looking over at Don in disbelief.

“Not a hot head, just aggressive. Kid totally bit through someone’s arm and broke the bone. It was awesome, if not for the fact it was some scientist treating him like a lab experiment,” Raphael corrected, folding his arms. If it weren’t for the situation Donnie and Lil Mikey had been in many of their feats would have been subject of quite the boastful conversation.

“You’re kidding!” Casey gawked again.

“Not even. We saw it on camera. He was completely restrained and then just chomped down on some lady’s arm and didn’t let go even though she punched him in the nose. It was impressive,” Mikey chimed in, semi miming some of the actions. “They’re both crazy strong. AND the Leo. He showed up a little while ago, and get this, the kid can teleport.”

“Okay I don’t believe that. They’re not superheroes Mikey,” Casey retorted, wrinkling his nose a little. Teleporting mutant turtles? That sounded like something that would be from the Justice Force, not the sewers of another world.

“‘Course they aren’t. Lil me said they’re actually super soldiers. Like Cap’n America and Winter Soldier. Sick, right? The lil guy can totally fling those giant mechas around like they’re baseballs,” Mikey countered, hopping up to lean across the table with a huge grin.

“Are they alright?” Mom April asked yet again as Casey took Mikey’s taunting bait and jumped up to tackle him. She was looking up from where she was helping Junior with some mash Mikey always had on hand these days, and seemed more concerned about the visiting groups’ health than their abilities.

Giving a bit of a sigh that was a mix between amused and exasperated, Raphael looked over to Don, gesturing a hand at him to answer. Maybe if the doctor of the house answered she would finally be reassured that the kids were going to be fine. “They’re alright,” Don assured confidently. “They’re all sleeping now, I don’t think they got much lately. But their wounds have been taken care of, and they seem comfortable. All four of them are here, and they even have their version of you with them too.”

“Me?” Mom April sputtered slightly, having not thought about the possibility. She was definitely more assured of their state now that Don gave her an answer along with the others, making room as he took a seat on the other side of Junior as her.

“Yeah, she’s nothing like you either,” Raphael laughed, rocking back on two chair legs after Leo chased Mikey and Casey out of the kitchen before they broke something.. “She’s a spunky lil gal. Fresh out of highschool it seems, and could probably crack my skull if she wanted to. I almost thought she was an alternate Angel instead.”

“It seems to run in the group. They’re all a lot more… brazen than I would expect. They don’t seem to have much discipline,” Leo commented, noting that many of the comments so far about their guests had been about how rambunctious they were.

“What makes you say that?” Mom April asked. She knew Leo had always been the one of the brothers that was more strict about discipline, following Master Splinter’s teachings the closest. But over the years he’d become less prone to associate an abundance of energy with lack of discipline.

“We fought their Leo a bit when he first came here – there was a misunderstanding that got cleared up – but his movements aren’t refined. It’s almost as though he was self taught,” Leo pointed out, having to quickly reassure Mom April that there hadn’t been too bad of a skirmish.

“You noticed it too, huh,” Don voiced his agreement. “We all had Master Splinter training us since we were kids, but Leon seems to only recently be getting some sort of structured tutelage for his martial arts.”

“He fights like he learned from watching movies,” Raphael huffed, amused at the thought. “It’s surprising he’s figured out how to make it work.”

“He does seem to learn fast though. I wonder what he would have done if you had actually shoved him off,” Don added, his mind wandering off to consider the possibilities.

“You let him catch you?” Leo’s incredulous voice snapped as he rounded on Raphael, a scolding lecture quickly rising.

“Duh,” Raphael snorted, narrowing his eyes at Leo and leaning away from him. “The kid’s a toothpick. You really think he could keep me pinned like that?”

The retort only served to rile Leo up more though, and he smacked his hands on the table to lean over Raph. “Oh, that’s great. So what was your plan if he actually slit your throa-”

The words were interrupted by a piece of chicken from Mikey’s stew smacking him in the side of the head. As both Raphael and Leo blinked in surprise they broke off their conversation to look towards the source of the launched food only to see Don giving them a pointed stare. He didn’t have to say anything. They’d had this lecture from him many times before. Walking them through their word choice barrier that only caused fights instead of helped. It caused Leo to shrink down in his usual embarrassed retreat as he forced himself to reanalyze his distress and word it in a way that Raphael would understand better.

“.............. You scared me,” Leo finally muttered, keeping his gaze elsewhere. “I thought…. I didn’t want to see you gushing blood from your neck.”

Oh. So that’s what it was. Like always Raphael didn’t see how the previous lecture connected to what Leo admitted, but he still understood by now that this was just the way Leo reacted. Blinking as the dots connected in his own brain, it was Raphael’s turn to shrink in mild sheepishness as he fully realized what could have happened. Sure, Don could have taken care of the injury if it had happened. But was it worth the mental and emotional distress he would have caused the others? “...My b-.... Sorry,” he responded, equally muttering and switching for words he knew Leo took to heart better. “I guess I was just more focused on getting the kid to stop moving and calm down.”

It made sense, and Leo let out a sigh as the tension from that fight finally eased away into his normal pool of anxiety over possibilities and not actualities. Letting himself droop forward a bit, Leo awkwardly knocked his forehead against Raphael’s shoulder to let him know he accepted the apology and reasoning. As Raphael raised a hand to roughly pat the back of Leo’s head, Don exchanged a soft chuckle with Mom April over the interaction while Master Splinter hid a smile with his teacup. With the bubbling argument abated, Don pulled them back to thoughts that had returned to his mind after one of Raphael’s comments

“Speaking of getting Leon calmed down,” Don spoke up, grabbing their attention. “I think Leon suffers from traumatic flashbacks.”

The sudden shift into a more sensitive topic caused the others in the room to still, and Leo quietly pulled a seat over to settle in. Raphael shifted uneasily, making an uncertain connection that he had to clarify. “...Like the waking dreams Leo sometimes had after Shredder’s men put him in a coma?” he asked, feeling a little bad for mentioning it when Leo fidgeted.

“Yes, but I think they’re worse,” Don answered, forgetting his half eaten meal in front of him for now as he started to explain his reasoning. “When he was attacking us it was calculated at first, but I noticed at some point something happened and he got… frantic. His attacks had more force behind them and were less structured. Almost like a panicked fight response to keep from freezing up. I thought it was weird at the time, but it wasn’t until he was with Lil Mikey that I had the thought he may have had a flashback. It was quiet, but I heard Lil Mikey asked Leon ‘are you here?’ And when I mentioned everyone’s concern about a secondary mutation I noticed he was using a grounding technique while April answered. Pressing his fingers into his arm to distract himself.”

The revelation caused an uncomfortable silence to fall over the room. But Don remained quiet as well to give them time with their thoughts. There was no rush anyway, they had time. 

“....... So… what? We can’t exactly ship him off to the Ancient One like we did with Leo,” Raphael was the first to speak up, having already run through his own thoughts and not finding an answer to why Don was bringing this all up.

Don had to give a bittersweet chuckle at the thought, and shook his head. “Nothing serious. I just wanted you guys to be aware of it. I know we don’t know them very well, so it’ll be a little hard to tell if he’s not acting like himself. But, if he suddenly gets violent again for no apparent reason I just want you to realize he probably doesn’t recognize it’s you.”

“.... Fair enough,” Leo agreed, still trying to figure out how he felt about the whole topic. He didn’t think the same ‘fix’ for his own issues would work with Leon. But he also didn’t think it was appropriate for them to ask why he was having flashbacks either. There was a question that bubbled up in his mind that he ended up asking though. “...Are any of the others affected as well?”

Don seemed mildly surprised at the question, and had to pause when Raphael voiced his own thoughts that had sprung up with the question. “Mikey said the scars on Donnie’s back were also from their version of Shredder. You don’t think it was caused by the same dude, do ya?”

It was an unexpected fact to hear, but Don just switched his surprised expression for a soft smile. “Not unless Shredder has been harassing them until just recently,” he admitted. “The scars on Donnie’s back are a few years old already. But the ones on the other three; the scars on Leon’s legs, the crack in Leon’s shell, the piece missing from Raph’s shell, his scarred eye, and the… rather odd burn scars on Lil Mikey’s arms are all only a few months old. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were from the same event… And I also wouldn’t be surprised if the others were similarly affected in their mentality. We’re already seen how protective they are of each other.”

Hearing that the scars the teens had were almost all fairly recent gave Raphael a bitter taste in his mouth. While one part of his mind argued that they had seen similar injuries when they were teens, the other part of his mind argued that it didn’t matter, they were still way too young to have to go through something like that. “...The little guy did deliberately avoid talking about his arms when I asked,” he commented, not sure if that was support for or against the possibility of Lil Mikey having trauma like Leon. And he ended up giving a frustrated sigh and rubbed his head. “Man, I feel like I’m gonna have to walk on eggshells around them now. So what? Am I not allowed to ask anything to them now?”

This time Master Splinter was the one who answered, setting his empty cup down and rising to walk over and place a hand on Raphael’s shoulder. “You have always been instinctually aware of the nuances of childrens’ emotions. Trust your instincts, don’t overthink it, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. And remember, an uncomfortable emotion is not necessarily one to be avoided,” he assured, giving Raphael a pat when Raphael’s shoulders relaxed and he gave Master Splinter a reassured smile.

Then Master Splinter turned to Leo, resting a hand on his shoulder as well. “And my advice for you is to have patience. Continue to allow them to come to you instead of you running to and chasing them, as you described to me before.” And then his gaze shifted to Don. “Donatello, be careful with your vast, and wonderful knowledge. Remember that the mind cannot often be treated overnight. Try not to overwhelm them.” Don hadn’t been expecting to be given his own warning. But after Master Splinter mentioned it, he realized that he very easily could have ended up stressing the kids out by unloading too much information on them to try to help. As he sheepishly scratched his cheek Master Splinter looked to Mom April as well. “For our dear April, I suggest giving them their space when they need it. Affection can sometimes be the perfect medicine, but from a stranger sometimes it can only serve to cause distress instead of comfort.”

“...Thanks Master Splinter,” Mom April responded, also appreciating the caution she hadn’t even considered she’d needed.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to make sure those two hooligans haven’t destroyed any furniture or bones. There has been enough surgery for one night,” Master Splinter sighed slightly, giving Leo another pat before he shuffled out of the room, walking stick thumping against the tile.

The three sons chimed in with their own vocal gratitude and well wishes, and after Master Splinter was out of sight Raphael heaved a sigh and flopped onto the table. “Man. Thirty years and he still somehow has the best advice.”

“You said it,” Leo agreed, feeling a mix of relief and also chagrined by what felt like having his flaw called out before he’d even made a mistake.

“Mhmm,” Don chimed with a hum and a nod, returning to the rest of his dinner turned breakfast. “...Do we still have orange juice?”

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Huuuuaaaaagh why does time pass so freaking fast sometimes =<= I totally got caught up in 2 new projects |D that's why the longer delay this time. Wys got me into trying to make a doll of my OCs, and then I started designing a cosplay outfit to try out.....

Anyway 8'D enjoy a little 03 fam only section. Baby Jones having red hair was picked by Wys not knowing what she was choosing between red or black for X'D He's also wearing a dinosaur onsie, compliments of Don.

[ghcstao3]

what about werewolf!ghost x vampire!soap 👀

hope you don’t mind me using the occasion to revive the rileys for an awkward family dinner

-

Being brought home to meet Ghost’s family is probably one of the more interesting moments of Soap’s (unbearably long) life.

And not only because he’s never properly dated someone as long as he has Ghost before—it’s also because said family isn’t human, and is more than aware of the fact that he drinks blood to keep himself alive.

So. Interesting is where he stands.

Soap is lured in with a false sense of security from two things—the first being Ghost’s insistence that his mother, brother, and sister-in-law are all nicer than him. The second being the warm smile Mrs. Riley offers him at the front door, entirely friendly and sincere, not like the brandishing of sharp canines that Ghost has flashed Soap with once or twice.

She’s pleasant to talk with, already siding with him when it comes to her son’s tendencies, and she even goes so far as to pour him a glass of pig’s blood she’d purchased just for the occasion. And being that it’s so nice, Soap doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he can only tolerate the stuff at best, especially now that he only ever takes from a specific source these days.

It’s through this lovely conversation with Ghost’s mum and the general sense of domesticity that has Soap believing that he shouldn’t encounter any problems when Beth and Tommy arrive.

But how wrong he was.

Beth at least tries to be polite, though Soap doesn’t miss the distasteful scrunch of her nose once she obviously catches scent of what Ghost so lovingly calls the wrongness of vampirism. Tommy, on the other hand, doesn’t so much as bother trying to hide his disdain.

(Thank God Soap finds out later that it’s mostly just the whole protective older brother act, but still. It hurts Soap’s feelings, just a bit.)

Dinner is absolutely stifling when all but Soap are eating what Ghost’s mum has made, all chatter dying off much too quickly in what little bouts Ghost, of all people, tries to initiate. Soap traces his finger around the rim of his barely-touched glass all while he tries to ignore Tommy’s pointed looks like Soap had done something to personally offend him.

Maybe he had.

“You’re sure about this, Simon?” Tommy eventually, finally asks after nothing but pressing silence. Though the question is asked to Soap’s left, he still feels golden eyes near identical to Ghost’s bearing down on him.

Ghost drops his fork onto his plate, his frustration palpable, emanating in waves. “Do you have to be such a prick, Tom?”

“Boys,” Mrs. Riley scolds from her end of the table. “We have a guest.”

“Yeah, and that guest’s a vampire, Mum,” Tommy spits, throwing out his hand in gesture to Soap. “He eats people.”

“Tom,” Beth hisses.

“Common misconception,” Soap mumbles. He feels all attention shift to him, as if they all remembered he was present—right, super-hearing. He clears his throat, raising his voice, “Only the… bad ones do that.”

“Besides,” Ghost is adding, and Soap is a little fearful of where he plans to take this, “he only feeds off me.”

A tense silence blankets the table. Soap wants to sink into the floor.

“…What?”

“It was my idea,” Ghost attempts to amend, but it’s already much too late. This is already a disaster, beyond disaster, and maybe Soap should’ve stuck to his guns about not meeting a family of werewolves as a vampire.

“Doesn’t matter, Simon!” Tommy exclaims his disbelief.

Ghost rolls his eyes. Soap had not at all imagined this to be where the night would lead. It’s what he desperately wished wouldn’t happen. Because he loves Ghost, and Ghost loves his family—so Soap had felt he needed to be in their good graces.

There goes that idea.

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t trust him, Tommy,” Ghost says slowly, challenging. “Is how I feel about him not good enough?”

This finally seems to stun Tommy into some form of submission. Soap doesn't miss Beth reaching out to flick Tommy's ear.

"S'pose it is," Tommy grumbles.

"Good." Ghost sits back in his chair, and resumes eating with a smug self-satisfaction poised in his broad shoulders.

There's a kick under the table delivered to Tommy, though Soap can't tell by who. He only knows its recipient by the muttered sorry, John, that follows.

Soap supposes he can be content with that for now. He gives Tommy a close-lipped smile, fearing that any show of fangs might provoke him.

All things considered, things could be worse. Even his military training wouldn't give him a considerable upper-hand against a natural-born werewolf.

He'll have to talk to Ghost about it later. Maybe when the werewolf is shifted, and Soap can dig cold fingers through thick fur. Then again another time, when Ghost can respond with more than huffs and whines and low growls.

They'll figure it out—they've already done it once before with just each other.

But they definitely have to smooth things over sooner rather than later, or else it's going to be real awkward when Soap finally gets the courage to pull out the ring that's been weighing his pocket down for little over a month, now.

It's fine. Everything will be fine. Soap can manage interesting.

[danikamariewrites]

Nessian x reader

A/n: This is my first commission piece! I'm so happy with how this turned out. Thank you @dreamlandreader I'm so happy you like it 😊

Word Count: 3,223 words

Warnings: Angst, self doubt, fluff

Joining the Night Court as an emissary for the Winter Court has been a dream come true. Besides your home, Winter was your favorite place in all of Prythian. Their politics and history fascinated you, making you work your ass off in school so you could be the best of the best at court relations.

Feyre and Mor had been the ones that found you. Originally you were working for the governor of the Palace of Bone and Salt. The fact that you were being under utilized made Feyre pay you a visit, delivering a much better job offer.

Since you started you finally got your own apartment in a nicer part of the city, and you have been much happier going to work. Yes, it’s a bigger work load but you love keeping busy.

You also adored the Inner Circle. The High Lord and his family embraced you, not hesitating to treat you as one of their own. Especially Nesta.

The two of you clicked right away, becoming instant best friends. And of course she’s a package deal with Cassian.

You couldn’t deny your attraction to them as the months went on. Nesta had invited you to train with the Valkyries after working for the court for only two weeks, where you became very close. The small touches as she adjusted your stance mixed with Cassian’s praise never failed to make your face heat. It was odd, having a crush on a mated couple.

Finally, after a year of casual hangouts and staying late at the House of Wind enjoying their company, Nesta asked you out to dinner. “Nothing super fancy, unless you want fancy then we can go somewhere really nice or we can-” You cut off Nesta’s rambling by taking her hands in yours. “Anywhere you want to go, I’ll be happy Nes.”

Her smile brightened after that. Before leaving you to go make plans she bent down and softly kissed your cheek, whispering, “Until tonight.”

Seven o’clock came faster than you anticipated. Nesta knocked on your bedroom door just as you were putting the last clip in your hair. Opening the door you found a radiant looking Nesta. She was wearing a beautiful long black velvet gown. A slit up the skirt that showed off her toned thigh and a wide strap that hung off her shoulder.

“Wow,” You gasped out. You swear you saw Nesta blush as she quickly looked down. As she looks back at you her eyes roam your body. Drinking in every single one of your features. “You look stunning.” She whispers out, holding her arm out for you to link with hers. Taking it with a wide smile, she leads you down the hall and out your apartment.

Once you’re taken to your spot in the middle of the restaraunt Nesta pulls out your chair for you, pushing you close to the linen covered table. “Thank you.” You said sweetly, smiling up at her. She leans down to place a kiss on your forehead before taking her own seat. The kiss made your cheeks turn pink. It felt different than the one Nesta placed on your cheek earlier today. You could tell this one was meant to be felt. To be full of warmth and convey care.

Three courses and a very expensive bottle of wine later, you and Nesta were full and giggly. As your laughter died down she braced her forearms on the table, leaning closer to you. A giddy smile pulling at your lips you copy her. Your noses almost touching. “I have something to confess.” Nesta says coyly. You tilt your head at her unusual tone. “What is it Nes?”

Your heart was racing. Hoping for a confession of love from her. It was so wrong of you to hope that. Cassian was your friend too. You didn’t want to drive a wedge between them or the rest of the Inner Circle. At the same time you were wishing for Cassian as well. Wishing it was the both of them confessing their love for you. But he isn’t here, Nesta is. Maybe he doesn’t care about you as much as you thought.

You thought you were close with him. You shared jokes, would be board game partners, and even dragged him shopping with you. Cass pretended to hate it but liked spending time with you. Or so you thought.

“Meeting you has been an unexpected joy y/n. Getting to know you, having fun with you, and spending with you has just…I can’t think of a word to describe it, there isn’t one perfect enough.” You felt tears forming behind your eyes as a lump settled in your throat. No one had ever been this happy being with you. Not even your last boyfriend treated you with such kindness.

“I’m so happy I met you too Nesta. You and Cass and the rest of the family have been so kind to me.” Nesta closes the distance between your hands, lightly playing with your fingers. She looked hesitant to speak again. “I want to be honest with you, y/n. Cassian and I care about you. Not in a just friends way…”

Your eyes widen in shock and hope.You open your mouth to speak but the words get caught in your throat. “I-I care, I feel the same way.” Nesta lets out a happy sigh of relief and visibly deflates back into her chair while staying attached to you.

“We want you y/n. If you’ll have us.” You nod vigorously. “Yes. Yes, I really do.” You can’t stop smiling at her the whole walk home. Nesta holds your hand as you swing them back and forth.

Finally back at your apartment door, you frown a little, not wanting this sweet evening with Nesta to end. Looking between your new girlfriend and your door you let out a sigh. “Tomorrow morning Cass and I want you to come over for breakfast. We can talk more about things.” Nesta brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, coming down to lightly trace your jaw. You nod, giving her a small, “ok.”

Unlocking your door you turn back to face Nesta. Looking up at her your eyes land on her full lips. “Nes?” “Yeah baby?” Pink slightly tints your cheeks at the pet name. “Can I kiss you?” Your voice barley above a whisper.

Nesta smiles and brings her hands up to cup your face. They feel soft against your skin. Leaning up to meet her you feel a spark as your lips touch. Your mouths move against each other in an elegant dance. The kiss full of warmth like the one she placed on your forehead earlier that night. For the first time in a long time, you feel genuine love flood your body. She’s holding you like you’re going to slip away and she won’t let that happen.

Your hands find home on her hips, pulling Nesta closer to you. In that moment, you decided you wanted to feel this love for the rest of your immortal life. And if you felt this way with just Nesta, how would you feel when Cassian started showing you love?

Would he though? He didn’t come to dinner tonight.

The kiss slowed until you two were just resting your lips against each other. Your breaths heavy as you pulled apart. “Goodnight baby.” Nesta gave you one last parting kiss before leaving you.

The next morning you donned an adorable cherry pink dress, practically skipping through Velaris on your way to the House of Wind. As you approached the outskirts of Nesta and Cassian’s home you spotted him waiting for you as he always did.

Cassian was wearing a wide grin as you approached. He scooped you up into his strong arms, spinning you around. Pulling back to look in your eyes, he held you firmly. “Hi sweetheart.” “Hi Cass.” you say sweetly, wrapping your arms around his neck to prepare for the flight up.

Cassian softly took off from the old cobblestone street, the beating of his leathery wings soothing your nerves as he climbed higher and higher.

Landing on the balcony of the living room he gently sets you down, grasping your hand. “How did you sleep last night?” He asks casually, leading you towards the informal dining room. “Fine. I had some excitement keeping me up.” He lets out a breathy chuckle and kisses the top of your head. “I can only imagine.”

As you walked with him you couldn’t help the tight feeling forming in your chest. Over thinking, like you partially did last night, as you wondered if Cassian really wanted you with them.

You couldn’t help it. You knew Cassian loved you as a friend, but his love for Nesta is like nothing you have ever seen before. You didn’t know if he would like bringing another person into their mated relationship. It took Cassian so long to win Nesta’s trust and heart. Would he want to let another share that?

Entering the kitchen you saw Nesta laying out plates of food on the table. Muffins, croissants, fruit, breakfast meats, and pancakes. Cassian pulls your chair out for you, like Nesta did last night. He pushes you in and takes the seat next to you.

Nesta sits across from you with a sweet smile on her lips. “Hi baby,” she takes your hand, bringing it to her lips. “Please dig in.”

Scooping food onto your plate the three of you fall into easy conversation. After a while you fall into a lull, unsure what to talk about besides the obvious.

Clearing your throat, you decide to start. “So…Nesta and I talked last night.” The pair perked up, making slight eye contact. “And I want to be with you guys.” They let out a sigh of relief and Cassin rested an arm on the back of your chair, smiling down at you. “But, I have a few questions.” Nesta nods. “Ask whatever you want, we’ll answer it.”

You turn to Cassian, a small pout on your lips and a sliver of worry in your eye. “Why didn’t you come to dinner last night?” He lets out a shaky sigh. Like he’s nervous to say anything to you. “We thought if it was just one of us, you’d be less intimidated by the thought of a relationship.” You slowly nod, letting his response seep in. “And you don’t mind this Cass? I don’t want to be a burden or cause problems for the two of you. I just-” Cassian tilts your face up by your chin with two of his thick fingers. A doting look on his features.

“Sweetheart. You have nothing to worry your pretty little head about. Rest assured, we both want you as much as you want us.” His thumb rubs against your chin. You felt relief knowing your anxiety was all for nothing.

…

Weeks have passed since your relationship started with Cassian and Nesta. It started out…chaotic to say the least. The three of you wanted time together but work picked up for all three of you. It was a busy time of year with the holidays right around the corner.

It also didn’t help that Cassian was away in Windhaven for a few days every week. It had just been you and Nesta at your apartment or the Town House.

Cassian being away made that doubt about how much they actually wanted you creep in again. You love your time with Nesta but you craved time with both of them. To just sit with them and bask in their attention. Maybe it was a mistake being with a mated couple.

On the last night of Cassian being away Nesta slept over at your apartment. You opted to sleep on your side rather than in the middle of the bed cuddled up with her like you usually would. You were too tense, lost in your thoughts and didn’t want Nesta to worry. Though she probably sensed it.

As Nesta laid down you curled in on yourself, trying to get further from her. This didn’t go unnoticed as she huffed at your movement. Sitting up, Nesta turns the lamp on on the bedside table, the dim yellow light illuminating her profile. She grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face her.

“Talk to me y/n.” Nesta pleaded with you. Taking a deep breath, you sit up, bringing your knees to your chest. Nesta rests a comforting hand on your arm, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin. Worry glinting in her steel-blue eyes. You lay a hand over hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Does Cassian like me?” Her face contorts into confusion. “Baby of course he does, he loves you. Why wouldn’t he?” You shrug, unable to meet her gaze in fear of bursting out into tears. “I just-I feel like he doesn’t want to spend time with me. I know work has been crazy but there’s a part of me that doubts…everything.”

When you look up at Nesta a single tear falls down her cheek. She shuffled closer to you, throwing her arms around your neck, pulling you flush to her chest. A few tears escape your own eyes. “I’m sorry baby. I’ll talk to him or we can all talk when he gets home.” You nod against her.

Cassian arrived home late the next afternoon. Wearing that wide goofy grin on his face as he came through the door of the Town House, embracing you both.

Back at the House of Wind later that night, you and Nesta lounge in the living room as Cassian makes dinner in the kitchen.

Sitting down at the table together Cassian tells you about his trip to Windhaven. It takes all of you not to interrupt him and blurt out, ‘DO YOU LOVE ME!’ But you hold your tongue as you push your vegetables around your plate. You don’t have much of an appetite anyways.

Cassian’s booming laugh pulls you from your thoughts. Out of the corner of your eye you see Nesta quickly glance at you. Looking up at Cassian you give him a small smile that he returns. “Sweetheart, I was wondering if you wanted to go out, just me and you.” You sit up straighter, surprise taking over your features. “Really?”

“Yes,” He laughed out, “Nes gets you all the time and I want you to myself for a bit.” You look to Nesta, as if asking for permission. She gives you an encouraging nod. “Ok. Can we go out tomorrow night?” “Absolutley.” Cassian brings a hand to the back of your head, placing a chaste kiss on your head.

Nesta helps you get ready for date night. Finishing up your make-up she lets out a dreamy sigh, “You look so pretty y/n/n.” She moves behind you to make sure your hair is perfect. “I’m excited to have the house to myself. Not that I don’t love having you two around but sometimes I just want to get lost in my book.” She giggles to help lighten the mood, making you giggle too. Nesta meets your y/e/c eyes in the mirror. She gives you a loving smile, draping your hair over your shoulders. “Ready?” “Uh-huh.”

Heading down the grand staircase you see Cassian waiting for you at the bottom with a bouquet of your favorite pink roses. Cassian watches you with a love sick grin as descend the last few steps. “You look stunning.” A slight blush dusts your cheeks as you look up at him. Cassian hands you the bouquet. You sniff them, taking in their sweet scent before placing them in the vase on the entry way the table the house put out for you.

You were surprised that you weren’t nervous during dinner. You and Cassian had fun joking and flirting like normal. He was extra touchy with you, never letting go of your hand an dpractically pulling you onto his lap at times. Cassian made sure he gave you his undivided attention throughout dinner.

Hand-in-hand, you take a walk along the Sidra, admiring the stars. “Lets sit for a minute sweetheart.” Cassian places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you to the nearest stone bench. Sitting, Cassian holds your hands in his lap.

“I wanted to talk about us.” You swallowed nervously at his words. “Nesta talked to me. And I’m sorry that you’ve kept that pent up for so long. I love you very much y/n. I’m so sorry if I haven’t shown you that. I promise that I will show you how much I love you for the rest of our lives.”

You grip his hands tighter in yours. Letting their warmth seep into you. Cassian’s hands are rough and battle worn. Yet so gentle with you, like Nesta’s. You feel safe with him. From the look in his eyes you know he meant every word. That it pained him you didn’t feel loved by him.

“I love you too Cassian.” You leaned your head against his shoulder. The two of you sat like that for a while, watching the stars shimmer.

…

It’s been almost a year since you started dating Nesta and Cassian and you couldn’t be happier. The three of you fell into a comfortabel routine. You always made time for each other, had regular date nights, and made sure time with family was balanced out as well as one-on-one time. And thanks to Nesta and Cassian’s endless begging you broke and moved into the House of Wind.

You placed down the last snack bowls, stepping back you admire the setup. Tonight was a night for just the three of you. It was rare you all got to relax and you were happy to see them let their guard down. To put away the mask of the General and Valkyrie.

You hung small fae lights, laid out extra blankets and pillows, set out snacks, and everything you will need for face masks. The front door shut as Cassian and Nesta’s voices floated up to you from the entry way. Approaching the living room they paused in the archway.

“Do you like it?” You ask, clasping your hands under your chin. Nesta rushed over to you, pulling you into a crushing hug. “It’s perfect.” She mumbled into your hair. You relax into her as Nesta hugs you tighter than you thought possible. “Missed you today.” “I missed you too Nesa.”

She broke away, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ll be back, I’m going to change. Are you coming with me Cass?” You both look to him. Cassian is casually leaned against the door frame as he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just going to chill in my underwear.” Before the two of you can protest he strips in the middle of the living room. “Will you take my leathers to our room?” He asks with a shit eating grin.

Nesta rolls her eyes at him, playfully slapping his shoulder. “Fine. But don’t start without me.” she calls over her shoulder. Cassian rushes at you picking you up, and flopping on the couch with you against his chest. You giggle and snuggle into his muscular chest. “Missed you today sweetheart.” “Missed you too Cass.”

[femmescripter]

Medley of Maxley Headcanons

Greetings, all! It's been a long time since I've made an original post. So I wanted to make one for a favorite old pairing I enjoy that's been making a resurgence. A collection of all my Maxley headcanons. I hope that you enjoy them! Species Headcanons Max is a Labradoodle, a designer crossbreed between a Labrador Retriever and a Standard/Miniature Poodle. Along with being great family companions they're known for being great service dogs. Both breeds are in the Sporting Group and are water retriever dogs. He gets his Labrador Retriever side from Goofy and his Standard Poodle side from his late mother. I picked this breed for Max because both breeds have loppy ears, black fur and outgoing personalities. Bradley is a Saluki, a purebred dog that originally comes from the Fertile Crescent region of the Middle East. It is well known for its hunting prowess and hunts by sight rather than scent, making it a sighthound. Additionally in Islamic culture it is the only dog that's described as being clean. I picked this dog for Bradley because the common fur coloring for the breed and its background as a hunting dog fits his personality and overall look. It's also used as a mascot for the Southern Illinois University Carbondale varsity athletic teams, called the Southern Illinois Salukis. And being the athlete that he is just made it an even more perfect choice for Bradley.

Regular Headcanons Bradley, being the Alpha male type that he is, will howl at Max when he walks by to tease him. The first time he did it Max whipped around to slap him out of instinct. Bradley barely dodged it but still likes to tease the cute freshman by howling at him. Now Max just rolls his eyes at the senior. Although he can't deny that he blushes a bit whenever Bradley does it.

Max likes pop music, which surprises a lot of people as he comes off as an alternative music type. And recently he's gotten into city pop(Japanese 70's/80's pop songs). So Bradley takes Max on a surprise trip to Japan to attend a live city pop concert.

Max is a chili head, and Bradley tries to eat a super-hot Serrano pepper chili to impress him. Even in spite of the fact that he has the spice tolerance of a two-year old. It goes about as well as you think. But Max is there with a nice, triple chocolate fudge ice cream cone and gives the Uppercrust a kiss for effort.

Bradley is very possessive and dangerously protective of Max. He does not tolerate anyone who's not part of Max's inner circle touching his freshman. Once at a party a guy tried to get handsy with Max when Bradley turned his head for a moment. Max tried to make the guy back off for his own sake - but it was too late. Bradley already had the creep out on his ear. For the rest of the party Bradley keeps Max sitting in his lap. And even as they leave, he carries Max all the way back to his dorm.

Before either of them enters a skating contest, Max and Bradley always rub noses for good luck. It was a little intimate tradition of theirs that started by accident when they bumped into each other - and their noses touched. Bradley quite liked the sensation, and Max finds it cute how the Uppercrust is a secret romantic. So they started rubbing noses for good luck.

Bradley likes to watch 70's/80's Saturday morning cartoons(i.e. Transformers Generation 1 and G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero), but he never told anyone until he started dating Max. When he told him the Labradoodle started watching the cartoons with Bradley - also having an interest in them. Max even got Bradley a collector's edition action figure from a favorite cartoon of his for his birthday. It was then that Bradley knew he wanted Max to be the new Mr. Uppercrust.

Whenever Bradley is upset he'll seek out Max to lay his head on his lap, and the Labradoodle rubs his scalp. Doesn't matter if Max is at the library studying, chilling at the park or it's late at night and he's about to go to bed. Bradley will text him that he's mad and Max immediately knows what he needs. He'll tell him where he is and Bradley will come to him and lay his head down on his lap, an angry pout on his face as he lets Max rub his scalp. Cute as this is, professors did have to express to Bradley that this isn't allowed in the middle of a midterm. When Bradley proposed to Max, he told him that there was no pressure or expectation to take his name or even hyphenate it. He's actually come to like the name Goof - and knows how much it means to Max. The Labradoodle found this very endearing of the Saluki to reassure him. However Max did at least want to hyphenate his last name. So, on the day of their wedding, Bradley Uppercrust the 3rd and Maximilian Goof-Uppercrust were wedded.

Max does get jealous over Bradley, but it's a bit more complex. Along with general insecurity Max is an angry jealous type. Not angry at Bradley - but angry at the person who tries to steal him or make light of their relationship either by claiming Max is just a gold digger or Bradley just has his wealth and looks to offer. Max would be rightfully pissed and tell off the person by saying Bradley is more than just some rich guy. He may be an arse, but he's trying to do better. And how it's more than he can say for his peers who go out of their way to be nasty people. And if it's someone trying to steal Bradley he tells them off by saying how trashy it is to go after a guy who's already attached and how they could have all the money in the world and still not buy good taste. Then he storms off. Bradley of course is elated to see his normally sweet Goof show some fire. And he spends that whole week just spoiling him from roses to breakfast in bed. Footnote: Don't panic at that last part ! He had someone else cook!

Bradley has always had an affinity for horror movies, so when a school dance was coming he got on a Scream costume and did the whole "Do you like scary movies" bit with Max and towards the end asked if he wants to be his "final girl". Dork that he is Max giggled and said yes.

Bradley was so nervous about asking Goofy for his permission to date/marry Max he actually gave him a bridal dowry. Let's just say you could rent two thirds of Spoonerville for what Bradley gave. But Goofy was cool about it and said that Bradley has his permission. Although he would like a new fishing rod, and Bradley happily got him a top of the line one.

Max wears a white-tailed suit to give the illusion of a gown as the bride and a veil. Bradley wears a classic black tuxedo as the groom. In place of a garter Max wore an ankle band for Bradley to take off and toss. A very special headcanon for all of you House of Mouse enjoyers! Bradley comes to the club every night Max works and always tips him. None of the Gammas, even Tank, go along with him after the first dozen(well for the other members it was the first three times, for Tank it was the first dozen) times because Bradley so shamelessly fawns over Max in his uniform. Older Disney characters like Aladdin and Hercules try to tell him to just talk to Max…but as the kids say, he fumbles the bag. Often. It takes Pongo doing his old ring around the leash trick to literally bring the two together for it to finally click and they actually get together romantically. Max's pet name for Bradley is dreamboat, while the Saluki's pet name for the Labradoodle is macaron. Max speaks fluent French thanks what he learned from his late mother's side of the family, as she originally hailed from Paris. While he doesn't have an accent per se his voice does change into a distinct tone when he speaks French. And it really gets Bradley in a romantic mood any time Max says so much as "croissant". Bradley's Family Headcanons

Bradley having emotionally/physically abusive parents or even a whole rotten family is getting really tired out. So, I'm going to do what Spongebob said and make aggressively NICE people!

Bradley's father, Bradley Uppercrust the Second or Bradman as to avoid confusion with his father or son, is a successful man and a man about town. He's intelligent, a strong leader and also a family man. However…he's a might uncoordinated. Like very uncoordinated. Like…Well like this fella here. For those who don't know, for reference's sake, this is Inspector Clouseau from the original live action Pink Panther film franchise.

Anyway, Bradley could never understand how in the world his accident/danger prone father got to where he was without offing himself just by walking on air. But if nothing else Bradman has a good head on his shoulders(which is amazing that he can keep it on) and is always there to support his son. However, he does wish that Bradley would tone down the intensity at times. As such Bradman views Max as a true blessing as someone who can keep his son grounded and as much on the straight and narrow as possible. Eloise Uppercrust is a mix of two women. The kind you see in beauty pageants, and the kind you see play as the dangerous femme fatale luring the hero to their doom as she was the villain all along. If Bradley got his smarts and looks from his dad, he definitely got his cunning and athletic prowess from his mom. Eloise is not a woman to trifle with, especially when it comes to her loved ones and career. She's a woman filled with ambition and righteous fury. But she can take a moment to settle and be a peaceful lamb when in the presence of her two most favorite men. When it comes to Bradley's fierce competitive streak Eloise does blame herself as she feels she didn't teach her son that there are times when you should stop and not go overboard. So, when Max comes along and shows himself as being both able to keep up with Bradley and having the willpower to make Bradley stop when he needs to, Eloise immediately approves of her future son-in-law. Mercedes Uppercrust, or Mercy for short, is Bradley's tween younger sister. She's usually reserved by nature but does have a wild side that she lets loose when she gets a burst of excitement. Mercy is very close to Bradley but felt that she was losing touch with him after he got more involved with the X-Games and felt that he was more focused on being the champion than he was being a person. And, by extension, being her big brother. So when Max came into the picture and began to help Bradley get on the road to the redemption Mercy looked up to the Labradoodle as a hero. A child prodigy in her own right, Mercedes has a predilection for all things music and cooking. Her favorite instrument to play is the harp and she greatly enjoys baking. And when she learned that Max is a culinary arts major and likes to listen to music Mercedes told Bradley not to blow it with him. Bradley Uppercrust the First, or Grandfather Lee, may be an older gentleman but he has a sharp mind and a strong spirit. Being the doting family man that he is Grandfather Lee loves his son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren very much. When it comes to Bradley he wants nothing more than for him to find the person that he wants to be and for him to be happy in his choice, rather than trying to continue what he thinks is a legacy his grandfather is trying to set up. Grandfather Lee actually takes a great liking to Max as his bright spirit reminds him of his dear late wife. And as it happens the oldest Uppercrust has a rather surprising past that not even Bradley was fully aware of. In his youth, Grandfather Lee was a vocal coach who taught the one and only Powerline. And he was actually backstage when Max and Goofy got on stage with the singer at his concert all those years ago to provide support for his old student. So, in a way, Max has actually "met" Bradley's family early on. Suffice to say - Grandfather Lee gives Max his blessing. Max is a Gamma AU Headcannon

Deciding that he wanted Max apart of the Gammas more than anything, Bradley begrudgingly agreed to let P.J. and Bobby join the Mu Mu fraternity as well. So the freshmen all joined in with the Gammas for the X-Games. And before long Max pretty much became the den mother of the bunch. Having lived with a single dad Max knows about how to run a house and clean. Even though his aloof, free-spirited nature would have you thinking otherwise. He listens to the other Gamma members and talks to them when they need a sympathetic ear. And he knows how to cook actual food, which has certainly worked to strengthen the bonds of brotherhood. Max's kind nature has also helped Bradley chill out. So much that this year he decides not to cheat for the X-Games. Mainly because he knows how disappointed Max would be if he found out.

At some point when Goofy arrives at the college, though, Bradley does feel compelled to come clean to Max about not always having been the nicest guy(understatement) but quickly adds that Max made him want to change. Of course Max is disappointed like he expected him to be. He even contemplates quitting the team. But eventually he's just glad that Bradley decided not to cheat this time - and tells him he'll stay if he puts in the work to win the competition fairly. Bradley does so, and the Gammas do win. It doesn't take much after that before Max and Bradley start dating, and the king soon lands himself a freshman consort.

[totowlff]

chapter forty-seven — bounce back

➝ elisabeth share her thoughts with her father, who doesn't hold back

➝ word count: 1,8k

➝ warnings: mentions of death and emotional distress

➝ author’s note: a short one to celebrate that is not race week!

NOVEMBER, 2018

Elisabeth couldn't remember the last time she had watched a Formula 1 race away from the circuit, sitting in the comfort of a sofa. And she was sure her father didn't remember either.

 Sitting next to her, Niki had his blue eyes fixed on the board. With his red cap on his head and his arms crossed, he seemed less than pleased with the overtake that Max Verstappen had just made over Lewis Hamilton. However, his expression, as well as his grumpy comments about the team's strategy, were secondary to Elisabeth.

 It was unbelievable that he was still there.

After the treatment alternatives were exhausted and Doctor Idzko stated that Niki needed an urgent transplant within a week to have a chance of surviving, Elisabeth was unable to avoid the sadness that came over her. She didn't feel like going to the factory in England, much less attending the races in the circuits on her father's behalf. She just wanted to stay by Niki's side, taking care of him, trying to enjoy those last moments with him.

Until a phone call changed the course of Niki's situation. A donation of a pair of possibly compatible lungs rekindled hope in the whole family. The operation was carried out successfully on the first day of August and, fortunately, his body accepted the new organs well. His release from the hospital, just over two months later, marked what her father called his “third life”.

And he was making the most of it.

— What? — Niki grunted, looking sideways at her daughter.

— Nothing.

— You're looking at me with a strange face.

She just gave a small smile.

— Just enjoying your presence — Elisabeth replied, stretching her arm towards him — I missed you, you know?

The former driver took her hand affectionately, his thumb caressing her skin.

— Something told me you did.

— Was it my daily visits?

— No, in fact it was Toto.

Elisabeth rolled her eyes.

— He can't keep that mouth shut...

— In fact, when it comes to you, he's completely incapable — Niki murmured, his eyes shifting to the screen, where the radio transcript indicated that the Mercedes was preparing for a double pit stop. He pursed his lips as he watched the silver car with the number 77 stuck on its nose enter the pit straight, seeming to evaluate the choice made by the strategists.

A few seconds later, it was Lewis's turn to enter the pits, while Red Bull Racing's Max Verstappen increased his lead.

— They shouldn't have put these super soft ones...

— Why?

— Since the FIA ​​ordered the holes in the wheels to be closed, this car has lost performance on these types of tires. The best thing was to start with the soft ones, like the Ferrari…

Looking at the leaderboard, Elisabeth raised an eyebrow.

— Not that they're better than us, right? — she commented, while the narrator spoke of Kimi Räikkönen and Sebastian Vettel's difficulty in remaining in second and third position, respectively — They still need to stop, don't they?

— That doesn't mean they're not capable of catching up to us, especially with worn-out tires — Niki muttered, looking at the screen.

She didn't say anything, after all, he was the one who knew everything about Formula 1 — at least from a technical point of view — and, in a way, that was what made them a good pair at the negotiating table. The memory of their last meeting together, in Brackley, made her smile.

However, it was short-lived, as a sharp kick towards the ribs made Elisabeth hiss.

— Any problem? — the ex-driver asked — Is that my granddaughter?

— You should stop with this granddaughter thing, you know? — she grunted, massaging the side of her belly in an attempt to move her child's foot away — And yes, it's the baby.

— I know it's a girl, Mauslein, there's no point in complaining — Niki said — Is she kicking you?

— More specifically my ribs — Elisabeth murmured, squeaking with the new kick. It was something she had noticed over the last few weeks and, according to her research and the app she was using, it was completely normal, but it was still uncomfortable, not to mention painful.

Her father slid across the couch, sitting closer to her. Then, placing one hand on her protruding belly, he began to caress it.

— You should give your mother a break, mausi — Niki said in the direction of her belly, while being watched by her daughter — Kicking her won't make you leave any faster, you know?

Elisabeth smiled a little.

— Maybe it would be better if it came soon, wouldn't it?

— Why?

— So you can meet it.

Niki frowned.

— She doesn't need to rush into this world. Until she's here, I'm not going anywhere.

There were a few seconds of hesitation, the race narration being the only sound that prevented the environment from falling into complete silence.

— I was scared — Elisabeth whispered.

— Of what?

— That you wouldn’t meet the baby.

The former pilot withdrew his hand, a skeptical expression on his face.

— Elisabeth — he said in a reprimanding tone.

— Dad, you were lying in a hospital bed, breathing on machines and with all the doctors telling you that you would only get out of there if a pair of lungs fell from the sky — she began to speak, her eyes wet — What do you imagine I would think?

— That you have no power to change my ending — Niki replied, dryly.

It hit her like a punch. Tears ran down her cheeks, thick and bitter.

— Dad…

— Elisabeth, you can't do anything about this. I'm going to die, it's a fact.

— But I wanted you to meet the baby…

— And what difference would it make if she met me?

She stared at him for long seconds, her lower lip trembling. Upon realizing that his daughter wasn't going to say anything, the former pilot let out a long sigh.

— I know I said I wanted to see you become a mother, but that doesn't mean I need to see it. You don't need me for that...

— I need it, dad! — Elisabeth exclaimed, gesturing with her hands — How am I going to be a mother without you?

— As far as I know, I've already done my part in this process, which was putting you into the world and raising you. From there, it's up to you, Mauslein.

— But who will help me…

— This child's father — her father cut her off — And, as far as I know, he had two other children before this, so he doesn't lack experience.

Elisabeth didn't dare look at Niki, feeling like a scolded kid.

— Tell me, do you remember your grandparents at any of your birthday parties? — he asked.

— No.

— Because they didn't go to them. Well, there was no way they could go, since when you were born, both my father and your mother's parents had already died. And it's okay, you didn't miss them at all...

— Didn't you miss it? — Elisabeth stammered.

— No, Mauslein. Because what you needed was me and your mother, not your grandmother. In fact, I don't think she would do anything much other than judge your brothers for riding motorbikes and you for not straightening your hair, so it was even better that way.

Feeling a kick from the baby, she looked at her belly wistfully, resting her hand on the curve formed under the dress she was wearing. Her father, as it always seemed, was right. She had grown up without her grandparents around and visits to the woman who had inspired her name could be counted on her fingers.

However, if her father wasn't interested in bringing his children closer to Mrs. Lauda, ​​Elisabeth didn't think the same way. She wanted to have Niki around, she wanted him to create the bond that, even though he hadn't missed it, was still something special.

— You don't want to be around, then? — she asked softly.

Her father snorted.

— Is that what you understood, Elisabeth? — Niki returned, without waiting for a response to continue — What I want to say is that my granddaughter doesn't need me around, in the same way that you didn't need Ernst. But that doesn't mean I won't be around, on the contrary. Someone needs to make sure Toto doesn't spoil my granddaughter.

A shy smile appeared on her face.

— He won’t spoil it…

— He won't, I won't let him — the ex-pilot said, chuckling.

Running a hand over her cheek, Elisabeth wiped away the tear that was sitting there, before looking back at the television, where a Red Bull appeared to have had some trouble.

— And this is Max Verstappen, the leader of the race, he spun on the way down the hill — the narrator exclaimed, as the camera moved away, showing a pink Force India car — Did they make contact?

— I'm not sure what that Force India was trying to do at that point, as a straggler — the commentator said.

The onboard image confirmed that there had been a dispute between the Dutchman and the Frenchman, who seemed to want to fight for space on the track despite being one lap behind, in 16th position. While Verstappen cursed his gridmate over the radio, Elisabeth looked at her father with wide eyes.

— Do you think he will make it back?

— He'll probably just need to change the tires — Niki replied — But that's good for Lewis. Very good.

In fact, that was good. Good enough for the Mercedes stickered with the number 44 to cross the finish line first. The flag made Elisabeth squeal, clapping her hands excitedly while her father smiled proudly. Giving the former driver a hug, she kissed his cheek.

— Another title, dad — she said, smiling.

— And there are five, now! — Niki replied, before pointing to the television.

On the screen, Toto appeared celebrating effusively alongside Bradley. The scene filled Elisabeth's heart with warmth, a silly smile appearing on her lips. A smile of admiration for the man she had chosen to spend the rest of her life with.

— I think he did fine without us, don't you? — she asked, giving her father a mischievous look.

— Yes, it was.

— Hi, my world champion — she greeted him with a small smile.

— Hi, my love — the team principal replied, returning the smile — Another one for the shelf, did you see?

— I saw it, my father and I saw it — Elisabeth said, turning the cell phone slightly to the side so that Niki was on the screen. Her father tilted his head slightly before theatrically taking off his cap without saying a word. It wasn't like he needed it, since that gesture said it all.

He was satisfied with what he had seen.

— I hope the result lived up to your expectations, Mr. Lauda.

— Couldn't have done a better job, Toto.

— Thank you, Niki.

— Now, we have to continue working for the sixth. And this is going to be a challenge, my friend.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

heyy love, i love your fics so muchhh!! if ur requests are open, i was wondering if you could write this fun lil oneshot i thought of<3

(didn't really think much of the details but i imagined something like the episode with the pierce family, or u could change to what feels nice to u)

reader is like super hot/crazy attractive and the siblings are instantly interested. kendall and roman, being their idiot selves, start competing for her attention and trying to get her to accept going out etc. turns out, at the end of the day, shiv gets the girl, as she was the one reader wanted all along (gagged them)

Girls Get Girls

Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader

not gonna lie anon I feel like I didn’t do this too well so I’m so so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy even though I don’t really deliver x

btw I literally love you anon keep requesting

im so gay

Word Count: 2.893k

Mergers, acquisitions, stock, trade, liquidation. You couldn’t give a shit about any of it.

You’re not in the financial field at all, much to your parents’ disappointment. It’d brought you out of favor with them, brought your siblings closer to each other.

You usually don’t come to these things, but tonight it talk of selling the entire company. Leaving it all behind, cashing in the lotto, and fucking off. Your family had convinced you to come- despite your clear dislike for everything finance and business, you still hold stock and stake in the company. You were also going to get a pretty penny from your inheritance, so it would be wise to judge your potential buyer alongside your family.

You’re getting ready in your childhood bedroom, pacing the carpet as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. Your father had made it very clear: your job was to root out intention, then act accordingly. Regardless of whether you thought the Roys were worthy of the company or not is irrelevant at this moment. You need to be intimidating.

Intimidating, but also hot. Just for yourself.

A soft knock sounds at your door. “It’s me,” your cousin calls from the hall.

“Come in,” you call back.

She waltzes in, her blouse billowing behind her as she deposits herself on your bed. “Dad’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Even though you already know the answer, you ask, “Why?” You lean against your desk, facing her.

She snorts, knowing you’re trying to push her buttons. “He wants the company, dipshit. I still think all if this is to get on our nerves.”

“A chimp would do better as CEO than any of you,” you say, scoffing. What had started out as what you thought was joking was turning into something else.

“So why won’t you do it, then?” she asks, bitterly. “I don’t see why it has to be either you or someone out of the family entirely.”

“I’m not doing it because I don’t want to. My siblings also just… have no interest. We’re all off to bigger, better things.”

The two of you stare at each other until your father’s yelling draws you both from your trance.

“Up and at ’em,” he’s saying, pretty much to himself, once you’re downstairs. You brush imaginary dust from your sleeves as you make the awkward walk to the helipad. You and your brother share an exasperated look. Despite the fact that you’d been wedged apart over the years, you and your siblings share a lot of the same views and opinions.

“All this peacocking is fucking insane,” he mutters to you once you’re stopped a safe distance away from the pad.

“Just wait until you see them,” you mutter back.

Even though you weren’t involved in the business side of the company, you’d still been involved. You’d gone to dinners, conferences, galas. You were a bit of an outside source, as you held no real position in the company, but you knew you were vital.

At almost every event where someone with your last name was required to attend, there was also a Roy. You’d only ever seen them, never spoken to them

You hear the helicopter before you see it. Sunglasses perched on your nose, you look up. As it descends, your hair and jacket are blown vigorously back, and your hand goes to your scalp. The generated wind is aggressive, slicing over your skin, your clothing. The sound is now deafening, and you notice your sister clamping her hands over her ears. Your father gives her a look, something along the lines of don’t look weak, and your sister rolls her eyes in response, mouthing fuck you.

You have to suppress your smile. The helicopter’s landed, and people are starting to pile out.

“Logan, old friend,” your dad bellows jovially. While the two families had never met, never been close, you know your father and Logan Roy were actually the best of friends. You don’t know how they met. Your father spoke of Logan from as far back as undergrad university.

Your father steps forward, meeting Logan halfway as he leads the rest of his family towards yours. They envelope each other in a hug, and your brother snorts. He’s the only one who’s ever interacted with the Roys.

“It’s like he has a multiple personality disorder,” he’d told you the other day, talking about the enigma that was the head of the other family. “One second he’s laughing, then the minute Dad’s out the room, the guy’s raging over his kids or the people not doing enough work or whatever the fuck else is wrong with that stupid fucking company.”

He turns from your father to your mother, murmuring a warm greeting, then to the row of you, your sister, and your brother.

“Oh, look at the three of you! All grown and radiant,” he says heartily. So far, he doesn’t seem like the demon your younger brother had described him to be. But you know well enough that looks can be deceiving. He opens his arms out to you first, since you’re the eldest of the three. You give him an awkward hug, his hand clapping over your back in a friendly manner. “If only any of my children had the sense to get with you,” he mutters conspiratorially, earning a chuckle from you. He pats your shoulder, before moving on to your brother.

Logan’s wife is next. “Marcia,” she murmurs softly to you, taking you by the shoulders and air-kissing both your cheeks. You return the gesture as she does it, making sure to stay smiling. It’s all a flurry of names you’re sure you’re going to forget the second you need them. Connor, Gerri, Willa, Frank, Rhea. It’s really all just a bunch of letters bouncing around in your head.

Who you’re sure you will remember, though, are the siblings. The younger three. The important ones, your dad liked to call them.

As all of the ‘adults’ convened to chat amongst themselves, like they did when you were children, you and your sister are having a quiet conversation about your work. She’s in the middle of asking you to come out to her office to help you with something when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder. You turn, coming eye to eye with Kendall Roy.

“Hi,” he says carefully, small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No, we haven’t,” you say back. “Y/N.” You offer him your hand to shake, like your father expects you to do with everyone.

“Kendall.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say awkwardly. He manages a laugh, withdrawing his hand, his eyes flitting over your face.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, then, to, uh, put your name to your face.”

You’re not really sure what he means, but you don’t think you care that much.

“Move over, Kendall, you’re boring the shit out of her.” His brother comes over, bumping him with his hip. You have to stifle a laugh. “Roman.” You shake hands, offering him a polite smile. “He’s right, though. You’re a bit of a mystery to everyone.”

“Am I?” you ask, laughter seeping into your voice.

“Not to me.” Her voice is firm, clear. “I’m Shiv. I was at the conference you gave the Ethics presentation to. I know your work. My brothers are just stupid.”

You laugh for real this time. “Nice to meet you, Shiv. I’m familiar with your work, too. I’m just not so deep into the political sphere like you are.”

“I can help with that, you know,” she says, expression surprisingly soft. “I’ve been looking for someone that shares my opinions and… moral compass to work with. You need your rock, you know?”

The conglomerate of people slowly transitions inside. Roman and Kendall get roped into other conversations, your sister disappearing off to who knows where. You mill about in the dimly lit sitting room, watching everyone interact. Shiv’s still by your side.

“No offense, but I hate these things,” she says quietly, coming closer to you so you can hear.

You laugh lightly. “None taken.” You glance over at her to find that her eyes are already glued to you. You feel your face heat, her gaze flickering down your body before coming back up to your face. She has a sly smile on, but it’s quickly melting into one of real, soft emotion. You open your mouth to offer her something you’ll probably regret later, but are interrupted by your father clapping his hands together and waving everyone into the dining room. Instead, you give her an exasperated smile and follow the crowd.

Your father eyes you and your siblings as you all slip into your strategically chosen seats, making it so you’d all be surrounded by Roys. Your brother makes a face at you from the other side of the table. You ignore him, instead looking up at Shiv, who hovers by the chair at your left hand.

Almost shyly, she asks, “May I?”

“Please.”

A giddy smile spreads across her face as she sits, and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You look down into your plate, catching your sister’s gaze on you. Kendall takes the seat on your other side, Logan sitting directly across from you, right by your dad.

Roman and your brother are laughing over something as you get served the appetizer, your sister staring off into space while Connor talks at her rather than to her. Your mother speaks quietly with Marcia, and of course, your father and Logan are the loudest at the table, laughing and gesturing around.

Your cousin is on Kendall’s other side, overly-focused on her food. The conversation suddenly involves the entire table, Logan leaving forward. “What is it you do again, Y/N?”

You shrug lightly. “I work in media and risk analysis. Dabble a bit in economics.”

“So like Shiv?”

“Not really,” you and her say at the same time. You gesture with your fork, letting her continue.

“Our work certainly overlaps, and I’m glad it does,” she says, “but I’m more… political, she’s more… corporate.”

“If you dabbled in economics,” your cousin manages through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be here.”

“Neither would we if you did,” you retort calmly.

She scoffs. “I still don’t see why all of this is happening,” she says back, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. You look to your father, praying he’ll deal with it himself before she goes on some tirade, scaring off the buyer, but he makes no move. He simply glances at you, his gaze loaded.

Do it yourself.

You wait for a few moments, letting the tension strain the room. Maybe she’ll back off.

She doesn’t.

“The company is leaving family hands because of you, Y/N. It’s going to crash and burn because you refuse to fucking see what’s sitting in front of you.”

Logan’s lips press together into a thin line, and you know you have to recover. “I don’t want the company. Neither of my siblings want it. Don’t you think it’s a little telling you’re the only one lusting after it so loudly?”

“I don’t see what that has to say about me.”

“You want it, and you’re not getting it,” you say firmly. “You’re incompetent. The Roy name is not.”

Dinner is only silent for so much longer. Your brother, at his breaking point, asks loudly, “Why are you even here? You blew the Pierce deal. Fuck off.” Your father hisses something into your brother’s ear. He scoffs in response. “I’m sick of it, Dad. The three of us bust our asses to get this to go well for you and she gets to waltz in, do whatever the fuck she wants whenever the fuck she wants.” He quickly pushes back his chair from the table and makes his way out of the dining room.

Clearly, this is deeper than one stupid comment made at the dinner table. You throw a questioning glance at your sister. She gives a minute shake of her head. She doesn’t know.

Dramatically, your cousin follows your brother out. Roman is trying not to laugh, and all of a sudden, your father and Logan aren’t in the mood they were before.

You turn to Shiv, exasperated. She’s also stuffing a laugh down, and it’s contagious. “Is my juvenile family drama amusing to you?” you murmur to her questioningly, the soft clink of silverware and terse chatter filling the room.

“Yeah,” she says, nearly choking on a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid. How do you deal with it?”

“I never stay home.” You down the rest of the water in your glass.

“Hey, uh, Y/N,” Kendall begins, leaning towards you as you turn to face him. “I just wanted to say, I get how it feels.” He gestures vaguely around. “So if you want to, um, get some air after, I’d love to join you.”

You thank him sincerely, giving him a soft smile. Dessert finally comes out. You’re almost there. You turn back to Shiv, but she’s conversing with whoever’s on her other side, to your disappointment. You eat your cheesecake in silence, Roman catching your eye and giving you a wink. You didn’t know people actually did that, but he pulled it off nicely, you think.

When your father finally gets up, ushering everyone into the sitting room for drinks and chatter, you heave a sigh of relief. You trail behind the crowd, hoping to be able to slip away on your own.

You succeed. You sigh up at the high vaulted ceiling, padding towards the grand staircase up to your room.

“Hey, where’re you going?” comes a soft voice. You turn, Shiv, hurrying after you.

“Escaping,” you say jokingly, pausing on the stairs, letting her catch up to you.

“Can I come?”

“Yeah. You can.”

The sight of her sitting cross-legged on your bed does something to you. It sucks all the air from your body. But maybe that was just the sight of her.

"Your brother okay?" she asks, looking up at you.

"He'll be fine. Everyone's just a bit tense."

"Just so you know, your cousin's temper tantrum doesn't change anything."

"I'd hope it didn't."

"What would change things though," she tells you, "is whether you want to come on once we buy the company."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I was serious when I was talking about how I need someone in my corner."

"What do you mean?"

"It's me. The company gets handed to me."

"Congratulations, Shiv. But really, I want nothing to do with it."

"I'd be running things. You'd just be my right hand woman. The very attractive right hand woman that I see every day."

You laugh, unable to suppress the grin splitting your face.

“My cousin’ll murder me,” you manage to say.

“So? Let her try. Not like you’ll go down or anything.” She smiles up at you. “I think that’s hot. You’re hot.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both of you grinning at each other.

“You’re really pretty,” you breathe, believing she followed you for a reason.

“I’m glad you think so.” Her hands come to cup your jaw in the few instances it takes you to cross the room, slide onto your bed, and kiss her. “God, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you ask against her lips, peppering gentle kisses onto them. “Stay the night.”

“I told everyone I went home,” she says, giggling.

Your hand flits to her hip, rubbing soothingly. Your kisses are slow, tender. You’re both enjoying yourselves. It feels so real. It feels like something more.

You slide off of her, off the bed, eliciting a whine from her pretty mouth. “Just locking the door, baby.”

You wake up, head buried in her chest. She’d borrowed some pajamas of yours, the shirt a soft cotton. Her breathing is light and airy, and it’s music to your ears. Her fingers are threaded in the hair at your scalp, her arm thrown over your back.

You drift in and out of consciousness until she wakes up, pressing kisses along your forehead. Shiv sits up, letting you stay settled in her lap. You press a hot kiss to her bare thigh, shorts hiked up her legs.

“You know,” she says, after a short while of silence, “Ken and Roman were drooling over you all night.”

You snort. “Were they?”

“I know them. They were. And here I am,” she says, satisfied with herself.

You let out an airy laugh. “Here you are.”

“I was drooling, too,” she admits.

“Can we stop talking about saliva?”

She pinches your ass, to which you don’t dignify with a reaction, instead smiling into her thigh. “I wanna keep seeing you.”

“I have to fly out to Italy for some work. Maybe I want you to come with me.”

“God, I love women.” Her hand cards through your hair. “Mind if I take a picture? I want to send it to my brothers.”

“Perv,” you mutter, but nod anyway. You smile at the camera from her thigh, pressing a searing kiss to the place where her leg meets her hip the moment she hits the button.

It captures her beautiful face in an ecstatic smile, yours in soft affection as you look up at her, not the camera.

[floralcyanide]

⊱ 𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑦 𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑 ― 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑢𝑠 𝑆𝑛𝑜𝑤 ⊰

[ ᴀ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ᴀʟᴛᴇʀɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]

1960s ᴜs ᴘʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴀɴᴅɪᴅᴀᴛᴇ!ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜs sɴᴏᴡ x ғᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒: 𝑔𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑟

౨ৎ 18+ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏɴʟʏ !

⊹ summary: christmas and new year's eve are spent with coriolanus. ⊹ pairing: young!coriolanus snow / fem!reader ⊹ warnings: kissing, innuendo ⊹ word count: 3216 ⊹ author’s note: apologies for being so late with this! it was my birthday and then I've been on new depression meds so I've been super tired from them ): but here's chapter three!! I hope everyone enjoys (:

౨ৎ divider credit: @cafekitsune

౨ৎ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ | sᴇʀɪᴇs sᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ | sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

౨ৎ this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

❝Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.❞ ― John F. Kennedy

You dive into your work full force on the 23rd, finally finishing Profiles in Courage and asking Jack your endless questions. All of which you scribble down in every available spot in your journal pages. Coriolanus has begun mapping out a campaign and slips the small pocket journal of ideas under your door late that night after the kiss. The two of you have shared looks with one another since but have yet to speak a word directly to your counterpart. For now, it seems your likenesses of each other’s goals are intertwined in the fact you are still working together for a common purpose. You had stayed up late that night, too. I delicately folded the golden rose in some tissue paper and wrapped it in a small box with string. Christmas Eve crawled through your window with the winter wind, and the taste of something metallic and sweet still lingered in your mouth.

“Do you think Santa will give Mister Coryo coal or a gift?” John Jr. asks you later that evening, briefly looking up from his figurines on the den floor where he sits beside Bobby Jr.

You try not to laugh at the outright question as Coriolanus is sitting across from you in his spot in that same chair he sits in, puffing his pipe with a playfully threatening look in his eye at your possible answer. You tread carefully, but not carefully enough.

“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we, John John?”

Jack is in the joining area of the main floor, where the grand piano sits by the entryway, softly playing the notes to Carol of the Bells. Caroline is next to him on the piano bench, swinging her legs. Bobby is next to you, his nose deep in the newspaper from the morning as his wife Ethel shakes her head at her nephew.

Jackie approaches the sitting area with some cider, setting the tray down on the coffee table before the fireplace, “I’d hope Coriolanus has known to be good this year.”

You raise your eyebrows subtly as you pick up a teacup of the warm liquid, already knowing his gaze is on you, “Thank you for the drink, Jackie.”

“Not a problem. Thank you for being such a dear guest and being so dedicated to Jack’s legacy. We all appreciate it very much.”

The rest of the family resides near the cellar, where there’s a small table dedicated to poker and cigarette smoking, trying their best to keep it down as the game of cards progresses. It’s nearing bedtime for the children and much-needed adult time for the elders. Today and tomorrow are a little hard for you, but being around others makes it easier to bear. Being without family on Christmas can dampen the mood, and you wonder if Coriolanus feels the same way. You subconsciously let yourself look over at him to answer your question. He’s sitting with his leg crossed over the other, his foot relaxedly bouncing slightly as he stares into the fireplace. Coriolanus doesn’t have a book in his grasp for once as he absentmindedly takes a rather deep hit of his tobacco, letting himself exhale as his eyes flutter to yours. Almost as if he’s wondering how you’re doing and what you’re thinking, too. Your stomach flips as you place your teacup on its saucer respectively. 

Ethel finally rounds the kids up for bed, and they all protest without surprise. Bobby Jr. demands a Christmas bedtime story, to which the others mutually agree. With a sigh, Ethel gives in. Jack rallies everyone, even those playing poker, to come gather around the fire in the den. You decide to offer your spot to Kathleen and opt for the arm of the chair that Coriolanus is perched in. His arm still rests where it was on the fabric, dangerously close to your back. Jack sits in the larger chair beside the fireplace, opening up The Night Before Christmas. All the kids lay or sit before him, chins on their fists as they listen closely. The family chuckles occasionally when Jack chides in a sound effect or makes a joking comment to the side. Jackie looks over to you and Coriolanus with an almost knowing look. You feel tense about it until she gives a soft smile before returning her focus to her husband. The story draws closer to the end as the children grow sleepy, and Coriolanus’ hand grows curious. His fingertips slowly draw up your hip and softly grasp it, hidden under your shirt enough to where others can’t immediately see it. You look behind your back subtly, your eyes cast down at Coriolanus as he stares ahead, unwavering. 

The brothers and their father scoop up the boys and girls and carry them to their bedrooms, most of them half asleep or fighting it. Some of the adults oblige to their own beds calling, while others disperse elsewhere or remain in their respective spots. You’re one of the ones ready to call it a night, so you carefully move yourself from Coriolanus’ touch and off the arm of the chair. It feels cold where his hand had been when you stand up. The rest of your night is spent journaling at your desk until your eyes grow too heavy to remain open any longer. It feels like you closed your eyes for only a second before there’s a near pounding at your bedroom door. You peel your eyes open reluctantly to see the sun barely hovering over the horizon from behind the sheer curtains. With a sigh, you hear the pounding again, but this time upstairs and slightly to the right. Sliding on your slippers, you rub the sleep from your eyes before opening the door to reveal some of the Kennedy kids beaming up at you.

“And why didn’t you wake your parents first?” you raise an eyebrow, to which they argue that they knew you’d actually get up first.

You’re exiting the bathroom when you bump into Coriolanus, who has just come fumbling down the stairs. 

“They got you up too, I see?”

You nod, “Yeah. I guess we’re the fun ones.”

Coriolanus turns his lips up into a smile before allowing you to walk in front of him to the den, where the kids wait patiently for the two of you to approach.

“How about we start some breakfast for everyone and then open gifts when they’re all awake? Sound good?” you ask.

Some of the kids groan, but most of the boys eagerly race to the kitchen at the sound of breakfast. Coriolanus lets you take the reins in the kitchen as he does whatever you ask of him on the side, obeying your orders. Slowly, the family trudged into the kitchen and dining room one by one until everyone was seated. The family grows louder with chatter and clattering of dishes, excitement filling the air.

“What do we say to our guests who made us this wonderful breakfast, kids?” Jackie asks, looking around at the children expectantly.

A jeer of thank-yous comes from everyone around the table, to which you and Coriolanus shrug off.

“The real deal is the one who brought the presents,” you wave your hand dismissively, “So let’s go see what he brought, shall we?”

The kids need no more to be said before they all bound over to the den, taking their spots on the floor as Jack and Bobby move to assign everyone their gifts. You and the other ladies agree to clean up after gifts, so everyone is busy with something then. As you walk toward the group of kids tearing into their gifts, Caroline runs up and hugs your legs, beaming at the books you got her. John Jr. does the same, delighted he has another comic to add to his collection. Before you can find somewhere to sit, Coriolanus pulls you to the side of the den and away from the others. He ushers a box into your hands.

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Coriolanus.”

“Sure I did,” he says, nearly cutting you off.

You sigh, returning the box to him as you weave through to the mantle, where your gift for him sits. You hand Coriolanus the neatly tied box as you take your gift back from him. You open it to reveal a leather journal with your initial stamped in the middle, with quills and an inkwell in a smaller container along with it. You gasp at the color of the leather and how it feels under your touch. 

“I can’t accept this-” you say, shaking your head as you look up at Coriolanus in shock.

Before you can carry on with your protest, you notice him holding the golden rose brooch in his hand as if it’d shatter if he dropped it. Coriolanus has an unreadable expression on his face as his eyes take in the simplicity of the accessory.

“It’s not much, but I thought of you when I saw it.”

“Thank you,” he says lowly, standing closer to you, “It’s just like the one my mother had.”

A solemn smile settles upon your features at his comment, and you reach out a gentle hand to place on his bicep, “The journal is beautiful, Coryo. Thank you. I’ll write in it properly.”

To that, Coriolanus laughs softly. Jack and Jackie approach you both with gifts from them and the family soon after. You all exchange gifts and soon begin cleaning up, preparing for the day of activity. Family photos had to be done, and dinner had to be prepped. More family is to come in, and so a nanny is brought in for the kids. You and the other women could handle only so much; plus, the New Year’s gathering would also be happening around the corner. Not to mention, you still have so much work to do before returning to D.C. in the New Year- your dissertation still needed to be worked on endlessly, and a presidential campaign had to be run quickly. Coriolanus had to return to D.C. for a few days to organize his campaign before returning to The Compound. You already know the next few days will be dull, but you were fine before Coriolanus was here, and you’ll be fine when he’s gone. 

Watching him leave made you feel melancholic. In just a few days, you’ve grown close. You aren’t sure how you’ll acclimate the nanny when she arrives without the help of Coriolanus. But you’re sure you’ll manage. The rest of the day is spent attempting to start one of Jack’s other books. Your mind keeps wandering to what Coriolanus could be up to. When you’ve grown tired of writing notes for Why England Slept, you decide to review Coriolanus’ campaign ideas. While he has some really viable points, you still add some of your thoughts and plans. Coriolanus mentions he is unsure of where to start campaigning and talking to people. So, you make a note to go to places where the working class resides. Places most campaigners wouldn’t think of visiting- like rural Pennsylvania and coal mining areas in West Virginia. The corn farms of Ohio, the orchards of Florida, or the backwoods of Georgia. The votes of the majority of the United States are where the wins will come in. But before any of that comes the Iowa Caucus and the New Hampshire Primary. So you begin to pen your ideas for that.

Before you know it, it’s dinner time. And after that, bedtime. And the days begin to drag along gradually. On the 30th, Jackie and Ethel decide to go out for lunch in Boston and make a day of it. They invite you to come along, and you don’t hesitate to say yes, especially since you’ve been cooped up for a while. Jackie suggests you buy a dress for the New Year’s Eve party. You decide to get something classy yet attention-grabbing, especially since that night will be the first time in a few days you’ve seen Coriolanus. And boy, have the last few days without him made you grow frustrated in numerous ways. Every time you go to read, you grow distracted with thoughts of him. And every time you go to write for the campaign, you think of Coriolanus and how life would be like if he became president. You also wonder how your friendship will grow and if it’ll go any further. You try to push away these thoughts while you’re out with Jackie and Ethel. 

“So,” Ethel drawls from beside Jackie as the three of you stroll down the sidewalk, “What’s with you and Coriolanus?”

You must compose yourself briefly before answering, “I’m unsure of what you mean?”

Ethel and Jackie chuckle, “Oh, don’t be daft,” Jackie jokes, “We see how you are with each other. Everyone does.”

You gulp nervously at the revelation, hoping you hadn’t made a fool of yourself, “It doesn’t necessarily mean anything, ladies.”

“We know young love when we see it, dear,” Jackie says, placing a hand on your bicep briefly, “But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wish to.”

On your walk, you eventually find a dress shop and begin looking around there, searching for something golden and shimmery yet simple. You spot a dress that’s exactly what you’re looking for and go to try it on. It fits perfectly, so you buy it and some heels to match. Patiently, you wait until Ethel and Jackie have finished shopping. You all decide it’s best to go home and get ready for tomorrow, as it will be a hectic day. And it is busy from the second you wake up. John Jr. and Caroline wake you early to go play in the freshly fallen snow. After that, soup and a sandwich are served for lunch, and then you spend the day reading and writing. The party is growing nearer, so you decide to shower and get dressed. You wear a deep shade of red lipstick, one similar to blood, with your gold eyeshadow and light blush. Your hair falls loosely around your face as you study yourself in the mirror. Hopefully, you’ll catch Coriolanus’ attention with your looks tonight.

You hang around Kathleen and some of the other Kennedy ladies as hors d'oeuvres are set out and drinks are served. You don’t hesitate to have a glass or two of vodka crans with small amounts of food to sample. Everyone is loosening up as more people begin to show. A large turntable has been turned on with some Frank Sinatra playing throughout the house, and Bobby finds you to dance after having his turn with Ethel.

“Care to dance?” he asks with his charming Kennedy smile.

“Of course, I don’t mind, Bobby,” you smile back, accepting his outstretched hand.

The current Sinatra song is quick-paced, so Bobby tests your swing dance skills. The vodkas are doing their thing, and you’re trying your best not to giggle too much at Bobby and his antics. The song ends, and you allow Jackie to have her dance with the younger Kennedy. Taking a moment to step outside as it’s nearing midnight, you realize you’ve yet to see Coriolanus. Maybe he hasn’t gotten here yet, or he’s sneaking around as usual, not saying anything as he observes. Some other folks are outside smoking, wrapped in shawls or peacoats and discussing random things. You join in the conversation until everyone eventually dwindles away. You find a spot by the balcony, staring out at the moonlit ocean as the sound of icy waves crashes onto the beach. A waiter offers you a glass of champagne as it’s almost time to ring in the New Year. You take it despite being heavy with sadness. You had hoped you wouldn’t spend another New Year’s Eve alone, yet here you are. You swirl the champagne around the glass, hoping Jackie or the other ladies won’t find you out here and ask a million questions. When it’s finally ten minutes until midnight, you’re readying yourself to head back inside when a soft hand places itself on your waist. You turn quickly to see Coriolanus Snow behind you, clad in a pressed and prim suit, the golden rose brooch upon his lapel. 

“Good evening,” Coriolanus smiles subtly, a glass of champagne in his hand as well.

“Good evening,” you say back, letting your eyes settle on his, “In pretty late?”

“I got here a few hours ago; I just haven’t been able to get away from talking to everyone here before finally getting to you,” Coriolanus sighs.

“Saved the best for last?” you joke, hoping you’re hiding your nerves well enough as he steps forward to you until he can no longer be any closer.

“Of course I did,” Coriolanus deadpans, reaching a hesitant hand up to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I like your brooch, by the way,” you say, eyes darting to the shiny accessory.

“An absolute dear gifted it to me,” Coriolanus says, “I like the color of your lipstick,” he runs his thumb over your bottom with the hand he had to your face moments before.

Thankfully, the lipstick was matte drying, so it doesn’t come off when Coriolanus touches your lips. You try your best not to physically shudder as he doesn’t let his hand fall to his side but rather cups your cheek with it. Coriolanus pulls out his timepiece to check the time, and it’s a minute until twelve. The crowd inside begins counting down as you and the tall blonde before you hold eye contact without exchanging words. And as the clock strikes and the people inside the house cheer, the two of you neglect your champagne and connect lips. Coriolanus pulls you to him roughly by his hand on your jaw, his fingers sprawled on your ear, in your hair, and on your face. Your back is pressed to the balcony railing as your free hand glides through Coriolanus’ straightened and slicked-back blonde hair, pulling him closer to you. His tall figure looms over you despite the heels. Coriolanus moves his lips to your jaw and ear, leaving a trail of kisses along there. He unknowingly nips at a sensitive spot of yours, causing your breath to hitch. Coriolanus chuckles into your skin as he does it again on purpose, relishing in the sound you make. 

“Meet me upstairs, second door on the right next to Jack’s office. I’ll be there in a little while- can’t be too obvious,” Coriolanus pulls away from you, his knuckle tracing along your jaw.

You look him in the eye, “Your room?”

Coriolanus stares at you wordlessly, his intense stare confirming that, yes, he wants you to meet him in his bedroom. You down the glass of champagne and put on your dazzling smile for everyone who bids you a Happy 1964 as you try your best to go upstairs unscathed. You finally do, and you close the door with a sigh as you brace yourself against the wood. What are you about to get yourself into? You aren’t sure, but nothing about this past year has been expected or sane in any way, so why not?