#But also I do every now and then like to consider taking canon seriously in the rare points where it can bear the weight

[ominouspuff]

GUT. PUNCHER. PLEASE. Ö

(also I see the Plo Coon WIP and I’m in the microwave)

In an instant CC-2224 sees the blue on the other clone and recognizes his enemy — knows it is CT-7567 and knows the name he took and the color of his hair.

All that is in him that is screaming — was (always?) screaming — quietens. His finger does not depress upon the trigger. His hand does not twitch towards the backup blaster on his hip.

An instant, a moment, a breath, and a single thought—

I’m no soldier.

CT-7567’s finger is as quick as he knew it would be. Between one moment and the next, Cody is free.

———

Re: Plo Coon — huehue, yess get microwaved (affectionate) (I’m very excited to show you)

[moondirti]

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

[just-jordie-things]

born to die - itadori yuji

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 8.7k warnings: canon-typical angst and talks of death summary: itadori's fate has been sealed, and he can't bear dragging anyone down with him. especially not her. more info: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angsty confession rain scene, you're gonna eat it up

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ feet don’t fail me now, take me to the finish line // oh my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i’m hoping that the gates they’ll tell me that you’re mine ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Itadori Yuji hasn’t always lived his life on borrowed time.  It used to be normal- as some called it.  He used to be just a boy, with an intrigue in the occult and semi-above average grades.  Back when things were normal he’d never thought much about girls or dating, not seriously anyways.  In the back of his mind he always figured the right person would come along at the right time, and he’d settle down when things worked out that way.

He didn’t know that the right time would cease to exist the moment he swallowed that finger.

At the sound of lightning cracking, Yuji flinches slightly, not having realized just how bad this storm had gotten since he’d stepped out of the dormitories to appreciate the rain.  He must’ve been out here for longer than he thought, but he hadn’t exactly been trying to keep track of time.  One thing led to another and he’d gotten lost in his thoughts, and…

“Megumi, what the hell is happening?”

Her shock was evident not only in the way she’d called out to her classmate and friend, but also in the speed at which she’d brought herself from one end of the corridor to the other.  It was almost as if she’d teleported there.  

At the time, Yuji thought maybe that was her special power.  If the grumpy dude had shadow animals, it wasn’t too outlandish to believe she could warp from one spot to another, right?

He’ll never forget the way she’d looked at him then.  For the first time.

Confusion and panic washed away for the briefest of moments, instead gazing upon him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.  Yuji had confused it at first for recognition, thinking maybe they’d met before and he’d forgotten, but that wasn’t the case.

“Who is that?” 

“This is Itadori,” Fushiguro huffed, more annoyed by the introduction than anything.  “He’s the one with the finger” 

It wasn’t exactly the introduction Yuji would have wanted, but there was no changing that now.  Besides, as long as he was able to say that he met her, that he knew her, he’d consider that more than a blessing.  

(He always sort of had that soft way of speaking about her whenever she came up, whenever he brought her up.  His eyes would glaze over with that dreamy look and before he knew it his heart was getting fluttery and his face was getting warm)

A lot of that fateful night was a blur, especially the parts where his body no longer belonged to him, but when it came to her, it was like the images were crystal clear.  If there was a way for him to enter a memory and relive it- that’s how he’d describe the sensation.

“Is he still passed out?” A voice- Yuji couldn’t be sure if it was Fushiguro or his supposed mentor who’d shown up- asked, but it was fuzzy and distant.

“Seems so,” A gentler one replied.  This one was undoubtedly hers.  “Probably for the best that he rests” She added before he felt the faint touch of fingertips pushing the hair off his forehead.

“What do we do with him now?” It was obvious it was Fushiguro asking, and it was obvious that he was asking his mentor, but it wasn’t the older man who replied.

“We take him back with us,” She piped up, her voice holding a firmness that suggested she’d argue harder if she had to.  “Right?” 

The pause before an answer came was long, Yuji wasn’t sure if he had faded in and out of consciousness, or if the silence really did drag on for minutes.

He’d never told her that he’d heard that small bit of conversation, that he remembered the way her careful fingers had touched him with more compassion than he’d felt in a long time.  Yuji couldn’t decide if it was because he was a coward or if he simply wanted to keep hold of that precious memory all to himself.

Another roll of thunder rumbled through the sky.  Yuji lifted his head to try and make out the dark clouds among the night sky.  Without a flash of lightning it was difficult to make out, but he did always enjoy watching a good storm, even if the darkness made it difficult.

He’d surely been out here for a couple of hours at this point.  It was nearing midnight when he’d crept out of the dormitories to watch the rain, hoping for a peaceful moment.  It was peaceful, the storm, at least.  His mind had gotten foggy after spending too much time within it and he was starting to go down that path he hated.

What if I’d done things differently? Do I really deserve to still be here? How long until we find the last finger and the higher ups have me executed? 

It wasn’t your average person’s derailed anxiety.  In fact, all of the anxieties Yuji had ever faced before being introduced to jujutsu had faded away.  He’d have to think for a few minutes to recall the things that used to be on the forefront of his mind on sleepless nights.

He was certain none of them involved being executed, though.

It was only a matter of time, and he’d known that for a while.  He was quite sure he’d come to peace with it, too.  Or at least he almost had.  He was just wrapping his head around the idea of dying, but as long as he’d helped people before that time came, he could accept it.  He could die at peace knowing he’d done everything he could to fulfill his grandfather’s dying wish.

And then she came along and everything turned upside down- again, and not for the last time.

The relief between the group of four upon finding everyone alive and as well as they could be- not unscathed, but nothing that couldn’t be bandaged up- was quickly replaced by utter shock as they watched Sukuna’s mouth appear on the palm of Yuji’s hand.  There was no time to react before it was gobbling up the finger Megumi had obtained after a hard fought battle.

It’s suddenly so silent you could hear a pin drop from anywhere in these woods, everyone’s eyes focused on the skin that reappeared over the boy’s palm, each hoping their eyes had played tricks on them as the reality of the situation settles in.

Yuji wants to say something, in fact, he almost cracks a joke.  But the words are stuck in his throat and all he can do is flex his fingers into a fist a few times as he processes what just happened.

Another finger consumed is another finger closer to death.

“We won’t tell anyone about this,” She speaks first, gaze lingering on his hand for a moment longer before lifting to Yuji’s concerned expression.  She hesitates again, then turns to Megumi and Nobara.  “No one.  We keep this to ourselves” 

“Not even-?” 

“Not even Gojo-sensei” She cuts Megumi off before he could finish the question.

Nobara gave a solid nod in agreement right away.  She always trusted her say in anything, and would blindly follow her anywhere.  Megumi took a minute longer to catch up, but eventually agreed as well.  The idea of keeping such a massive secret hidden from Gojo unsettled him, but when he weighed out the other options, he didn’t like the idea of Yuji being any closer to death than he was before.

“Let’s get moving” Was all he said, but it was enough for his peers to know he was on board.  Nobara followed after him as he took off towards the direction they’d come hours ago.  Yuji hung back a few steps, not sure how to feel about everyone covering for him.

“(y/n),” 

He called her name softly, as he always did, but it was loud enough for her to perk up.  She sends him a small smile as she slows her own steps to walk beside him at his slower pace.

“I don’t want anyone getting in trouble for covering for-” 

“No one’s getting in trouble,” She assured him mid-sentence.  “And no one’s doing anything they don’t want to do.  It’s fine” 

She was always so sure of herself that it was endearing.  She was a natural leader, even when Megumi tried to form a plan, she had a way of rallying the small group up before any assignment.  Just last week Gojo made them stay behind after lessons to clean the classroom, and she’d found a way to make it into a competition that had them finished in under thirty minutes.  Yuji admired that about her.  Her spirit could be over exaggerated, but it was never phony.

Yuji was at a loss for words, leaving him stuck gaping at her like a fish, which was at least effective in making her laugh.

“You care so much for others- I really admire that about you, Yuji,” She spoke as if she could read his mind.  It had his chest buzzing in that familiar way she sparked.  She looked at him and it was like her eyes were made of the stars themselves.  “But you underestimate how much… others care for you too” 

He’ll never forget the way her cheeks had gone pink after the soft admission.

If the circumstances had been different, he’s sure he would have confessed to her right then and there.  If things were different he wouldn’t have been able to hold it back.  If it weren’t for his reality, he would have loved nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her- well, everything, really.

It wasn’t like he was doing that great of a job keeping his heart in check.  His friends had noticed the way his demeanor changed as soon as she walked into the room.  Megumi may have wanted to ignore the subject just because that was his nature, but Nobara was happy to blurt it out one night when it was just the three of them.

“So when are you gonna address the whole (y/n) thing?” She’d barely looked up from where she was sitting on Megumi’s floor painting her nails.  Yuji had to do a double take just to make sure she was talking to him.

“... (y/n) thing?”

He’d acted like he didn’t have a clue what she was referencing, but truthfully, his heart was already racing.  He hadn’t been that obvious about it, had he?

“C’mon Nobara, he doesn’t want to talk about that yet, leave him be” Megumi had come to his defense, but only sort of, because now Yuji realized that they both knew about his hidden feelings.

Did he not hide them that well? 

“It’s been months!” Nobara barks back, ever so focused on the perfect coat of cherry red.  “He’s gotta be bursting to tell someone! Might as well be us” 

“This is why people don’t come to you with stuff” Megumi huffs.

“You got something you want to say then?” Nobara argues.

“No, I’m just saying-” 

“Then could you shush so Yuji could actually open up about his undying love?”

“Uh… heh…?” Yuji mumbled his confusion to himself, but it was enough to interrupt their bickering.  He glanced between the two with a lost look on his face, waiting for someone to better explain it to him.

“Yuji, if you need some advice on how to ask out (y/n), we’re here for you” Nobara says with complete seriousness.  He knows because she paused in her nail painting to stare him down while she said it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat- which he hadn’t been aware of until that very moment- and wildly looked between both of his friends.

Megumi, although slightly disinterested, seemed just as invested as Nobara in this offer.  Maybe he was just bored of reading, because he didn’t often follow along with Nobara’s antics unless there was something in it for him, but it was clear in his raised brows that he was waiting for Yuji to say something.

And that’s when the pinkette remembers-

“No way man!” He shouts defensively, standing suddenly from his spot on the floor.  “You’re like her best friend! You’re just gonna tell her everything I say!” 

Unceremoniously, Megumi points to himself like the statement confused him.

Nobara huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, you!” 

Yuji had his moments of airheadedness, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.  (y/n) and Megumi had known each other for a long time.  They’d trained together as sorcerers in their younger years and it wasn’t until recently that they even had other classmates.  Megumi wouldn’t openly call any of his classmates his friends- at least not until Yuji begged him to admit it- but it had been clear that the bond he’d formed with (y/n) before Yuji and Nobara’s arrival had been built on an unshakable foundation of trust and respect.

To Yuji, that made the pair best friends.  And best friends shared everything with each other.  Including secrets shared in confidence from other friends.

“So you admit there’s something to be told?” Nobara asks, raising a brow in curiosity.

“I didn’t say that!” 

“You sort of implied it” Megumi said.

“Well then I un-imply it!” 

“Not how that works” Nobara pipes back in.

Yuji groans, covering his burning face with his hands in the hopes that it helps to hide the giveaway that was his blushing face.  It was too late, of course his friends were perceptive enough to have already caught it.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t saying that I-” His stammering only seems to prove the claims made against him, but still, Yuji tries to find the words to explain himself.  Probably because there was no way to explain himself.  His feelings were made clear in his actions already.

“So you won’t mind if I set her up with the guy at the pastry shop we go to then?” Nobara asks, and before she’s completely finished talking, Yuji drops his hands, and his eyes are wide with panic.

“Guy? Pastries? Why? Does- does she talk to him a lot?” 

Nobara glances at Megumi, who’s finally cracked a smile as he scoffs and shakes his head.  He’s trying not to break out into laughter, but sometimes those two just made it too hard.

He wasn’t the kind of guy that shared other people’s secrets.  If Yuji needed (y/n) to know something, he’d tell her.  Tonight was the first night that he’d ever contemplated crossing that boundary.  Just so he could see the way she’d light up at the insinuation that the boy she loved could love her back.

It didn’t seem like the storm would let up anytime soon.  The rain was hitting the ground harder than ever.  If he were to step out from under the awning, he’d be soaked to the bone in just seconds.  Standing in the rain actually sounded sort of nice.  It might have been a relief, even for just a minute.  Or maybe a decent enough distraction from where his mind had wandered off to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like to think about her.  Hell, so much of his time had been thinking about her that he was starting to go absolutely crazy.  Even if he knew how to stop, he probably wouldn’t have.  He definitely wouldn’t have.

The pipeline from having a crush to being full on crazy about someone was faster than he would have expected.  Yuji didn’t have an exact timeline, but he knew that it wasn’t long after meeting her that he was lost in his adoration for her.  Soft, warm, all consuming adoration.

“These are really good!” Her eyes were lit up and her mouth was full of food as she praised Yuji for the meal.  She was already reaching for another meatball before she’d swallowed the first one.  “Your grandpa gave you this recipe?” 

Megumi and Nobara, who were also knelt around the table, had given Yuji their compliments as well.  But the brightness on his face now outshined his reaction to their five star reviews.  With the wide grin splitting his face and wider eyes following her greedy movements to snatch another meatball.  Nothing zapped his heart with pure electricity like the way she did just by enjoying his food.

He’s nodding his head in a small, slow motion to her question.

“That’s amazing, I wish I knew how to make anything.  Especially something this good,” Her approval was laying itself on thick, but he knew that it was completely genuine.  “I’m honestly jealous, Yuji” 

He laughs, his face pink from the bashfulness.

“I’m glad you like them,” He says, keeping his gaze focused on the one meatball on his plate that he hadn’t even touched yet.  

He couldn’t bear to look over at Nobara, who was snickering through her full mouth.  Or Megumi, who was staring so blatantly between him and (y/n) that Yuji thought he might burn up completely if he met his eyes.

So he keeps his head down, for the love of all things good and sane, he kept his head down.

“Well… I’ll make if for you anytime you want” 

It takes a lot of courage for him to peek over at her from his peripheral, but it’s completely worth the trembling in his fingers.  She’s beaming at him, cheeks full, eyes bright, completely overcome by his generosity and sweetness.

Nobara had to lift her napkin to her face to keep herself from spitting out her food.  Megumi finally shifts his gaze to his food, hoping he’ll at least be able to keep it down with all the lovesick nonsense at the table.

Yuji would have to use both hands to count the amount of times he made those meatballs for her.  Both out of request, and by his own choice.  She definitely was treated to them the most, despite Nobara and Megumi also enjoying the recipe.

But Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them at two in the morning when they couldn’t sleep and wanted a snack.  Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them when they were sick in bed with the flu for a week.

And the two would tease him for it relentlessly.  Not only because the treatment was unfair- they wanted delicious meatballs too! But of course when they caught Yuji up at odd hours to make her favorite meal, they just couldn’t resist calling him out on it.

Yuji would fluster, but it would never matter once he finished his masterpiece and presented them to (y/n).  It was like the entire world would melt away when he was greeted with her pure delight for his food.  He wished he could learn to make something else to give her, but it had taken so long for him to learn this recipe from his grandpa, he worried he’d only mess up a new dish.

His throat starts to feel hot.  Was that tears?  It constricts until he can’t breathe without it burning, and even when he tries to swallow to relieve the throbbing sensation, it remains.  Was he going to cry over meatballs? 

(It wasn’t the meatballs) 

“I have a surprise for you students!” Gojo’s cheery voice wasn’t out of the ordinary, and neither was the little dance of excitement he did as he wheeled up a large box to present to the first and second years.

While no one held any interest, they all remained there, waiting for their eccentric mentor to get the display over with.  No one knew what to expect, but they figured it couldn’t have been important.

But then he steps aside and does a grand introduction, and even though he states Yuji’s name, it’s not until the boy is popping out like a jack-in-the-box that it really settles in for anyone that Itadori Yuji was there.  Alive.

No one moves.  No one even says anything.  Yuji’s grinning and holding his hands up in peace signs as he’s returned to his friends, but even his cheerfulness couldn’t penetrate the unsettled trance the first and second years seemed to be in.

“Uh- Gojo- sensei…?” Yuji glanced towards his teacher for some help, not having expected anything other than a warm welcome.  However, Gojo was also wincing as he took in his students’ faces.

The second years looked aghast.  With Maki’s entire face in a disgusted cringe, as if Yuji was brought back as a zombie.  All three of them seemed more shocked than relieved.

The first years also didn’t appear like they were struck with relief either.  Megumi and Nobara had gone so pale they looked like they could faint at any moment.  With Megumi’s eye twitching and Nobara’s nose wrinkling, they were certainly processing it slowly.

Then there was (y/n).

To this day Yuji couldn’t describe the way she looked at him.  He was certain she didn’t blink once.  Tucked behind Megumi as if his tall stature could protect her from the boy raised from the dead, she looks more small and fragile than he’s ever seen her before.  Her jaw wasn’t dropped like Maki’s, but her lips were parted, trying to form any word that comes to mind.  Nothing comes out.  Her eyebrows can’t stop pinching and relaxing.  Worst of all, the tears that were silently streaming down her face.

Maki was the first to bark out an insult at Gojo for his insensitive display.  Panda welcomes Itadori back as he and Inumaki follow after Maki to come up with a plan of attack before the Exchange Event begins.

Yuji awkwardly climbed out of the box he was still standing in, approaching his friends with a frown.

“I thought you guys would be more excited”

“You- you were dead, Itadori” Megumi’s the first to stutter over his quiet statement.  

Nobara’s chewing on her lip, but some of the color was returning to her face the longer he stood before her, and she was sure that he was going to disappear like a ghost again.

(y/n’s) left to stare with wide teary eyes, still half behind Megumi, still rendered speechless.  Yuji wonders if she even knows she’s crying.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re back.  We’re glad you’re back,” 

Megumi would love it if one of the girls would speak up.  But Nobara still looks like she might be sick, and he hasn’t found the courage to check on how (y/n’s) been taking the last few minutes.  He’s pretty sure she’s crying behind him and he didn’t know how to take that on.

“Just in time too, yeah?” He finishes with an awkward cough.  Yuji can barely manage a nod before Megumi leaves.

Nobara mutters something of a similar sentiment before she leaves as well.   It’s through a cough and a gag, but she tries, and Yuji appreciates it nonetheless.

With everyone else gone, and without Megumi to hide behind, (y/n) seems more exposed now.  Never before in Yuji’s presence had she wanted to shrink down into the earth, and she hates feeling that way now.

“Gojo thought that would be fun…” He starts to explain himself, his hand going over the back of his neck.  “I’m realizing now that it was probably… really stupid, huh- oof!” 

He didn’t get the chance to properly apologize before she crashed into him.  It’s so fast, almost a blur, that he nearly loses balance.  But her arms are wrapped around his middle so tight he thinks even if he had tripped up, she would’ve righted him with her strong hold with no issue.

“So stupid,” She repeats before pulling away, and finally wiping away the tears on her face with the back of her hands.  “You were dead Yuji, you can’t just- just pop out of a box and expect us to think that’s normal!” 

“I’m sorry,” He blurts out the apology before he can lose any more time.  “I’m really, really sorry, alright? I wish I could have told you guys sooner but Gojo-sensei… well, we thought it was right while I was training.  He was just trying to protect me” 

She nods in understanding, but it’s shaky, and it was clear that she was struggling to actually understand  the whole picture.  Yuji couldn’t be upset with her for processing it all slowly.  Hell, he wasn’t all too caught up himself.  He might’ve gotten ahead of himself a bit with the whole surprise reappearance.

“Look, I get it, I… do,” (y/n) sighs, blinking quickly to rid the last of the tears from her eyes.  It doesn’t quite work.  “Just don’t ever be that stupid again, alright?” 

He chuckles a bit, and for a moment it makes a smile crack on her lips too.  It’s wobbly, but it’s enough to warm his heart.

“I know that’s hard for you,” She teases weakly, before sniffling.  “But you’re gonna have to try, alright?” 

“Alright,” He’s still smiling, but it comes out so genuine it’s heavy.  “Promise, I won’t do anything that stupid again” 

Her wobbly smile stretches a little more, before a small laugh escapes her.

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep” 

“I don’t” 

To his luck, he hadn’t done anything too stupid since his little ‘I’m still alive!’ bit.  Well, he was pretty sure, considering she had yet to give him that look she had that day.  Thank the gods too, because Yuji’s pretty sure if he ever had to see her cry like that again, he’d die on the spot.

Unfortunately, this means that Yuji learned that day that he couldn’t live with himself if he was the cause of her suffering.  Seeing her cry was hard enough, but knowing he was the sole reason for it? Even thinking about it now, his throat burned hotter.  His eyes did, too, but he was trying to ignore the blur that kept invading his vision for now.

What the hell was with his emotions tonight? He’d come out here to find some peace while storm watching, and instead he’s standing here reminding himself of everything he’d done wrong in his life.

Falling for someone despite knowing he wasn’t meant to walk this earth for much longer had to have been some twisted punishment for something wicked he’d done in a past life.  

Or was it punishment for carrying the most wicked thing within him now? 

Swallowing that first finger months ago on a whim to save a stranger’s life, was that the day that sealed his fate? 

Was he doomed from the start or doomed somewhere along the way?

Would he be able to live with himself, not for the evil residing inside of him, but knowing that one day he’d have to leave the people he’s grown to love more than anything in the world, and he’d leave them knowing that they wouldn’t see him go without fighting, kicking, screaming- 

Wait, did he just see something move?

Shaking his head of his self pitying thoughts, he blinked away the fog in his eyes and tried to focus on where he could’ve sworn he’d seen movement.  Sure enough seconds later his eyes were bulging out of his head and he was abandoning his safe and dry spot under the awning in order to take off towards the figure.

She’s half jogging, at such an awkward speed Yuji could only wonder if she wasn’t even rushing to get to a dry spot.  Maybe she’d indulged herself in the rain the same way he’d thought about doing earlier.  Either way he’s sprinting towards her and closing the distance in rapid time.

He’s surprised upon his approach when he hears her laughter.  Sweet and bubbly, as if being caught in the rain was the funniest thing in the world.  Even though it had to be intentional, didn’t it? At this hour? She had to have chosen to come outside- much less walk around the campus? 

“What are you doing out here?” He hollers over the loud rain once he reaches her.

(y/n) grins at him, and he swears even with the moon in hiding behind the storm clouds, it reflects it’s light onto her somehow anyways.  She’s already soaked through, the walk from the girls’ dorms to the boys’ isn’t a short one by design.  Even if she was doing a half-jog the whole way over.  Her body trembles like a leaf in the wind and Yuji tries to usher her back to where he was, but she seems to have no urgency about her at all.

“Aren’t you freezing? C’mon, you should get out of the-” 

“It’s alright!” She waves her hand around to dismiss Yuji’s worries.  “I wouldn’t have come out here if I was afraid of getting a little wet” 

(Yuji thinks this is why Megumi used to make fun of her for being a manic pixie dream girl.  He had yet to fully understand the term himself, but this painted a pretty clear picture.  He’ll have to ask Megumi about it later) 

“A little wet?” He chuckles, hoping that if he picks up his pace she will too, but she doesn’t.  “You’re soaked through” 

She just shrugs, and follows alongside him towards the boys’ dorms, where he had been sitting dry just moments ago.  That’s long gone now, his tee shirt and sweatpants felt heavy and cold as they clung to his skin.  His hair hangs almost in his eyes, raindrops dripping onto his eyelashes and making him rub his eyes from the irritation every few minutes.  

It wasn’t very pleasant at all.  He’s glad he didn’t step out into the rain earlier.  Without her company, it wouldn’t have been worth it.

“What’re you doing out here anyways?” He’s still yelling through the rain, but they’re almost to the peace and quiet of the awning now.  “It’s pretty late” 

“You’re up too,” She shoots back like it’s a scold, even though there’s still a grin on her face.  

He’s dying to know what has her so delighted even in these awful conditions.  He’s certain it’s nearing two in the morning- if not later- the storm was so awful they had to yell to hear one another, and now they were both soaked to the bone and shaking like dogs to try and preserve heat.  Honestly, everything about this present moment should suck.  But it simply doesn’t.

“Which I should’ve expected.  Once the storm really started I wanted to come see if you were watching it too.  I know you like that sort of thing” 

His heart does a stupid flutter at the simple fact about him she’d remembered.  It might have also had something to do with her coming all the way here.  In the rain.  In her pajamas.  Her cute hello kitty themed pajamas.

They finally reach the awning and (y/n) gets to work ringing out the hem of her tee shirt.  It’s useless, even with the shocking amount of rainwater splashing on the ground, but Yuji doesn’t comment on it.

“You could’ve just texted you know” He mumbles, hoping the dark would hide the heat that rushes to his face.  Although, it’s somewhat welcomed, as he’s still shivering a bit from being in the rain.

(y/n) looks up at him, stopping her movements to wrap her arms around herself instead.  She was still cold too, but she didn’t say anything about it, didn’t try to rush back to her dorm or anything of the sort.

“Well maybe I wanted to come and see you, too,” She suggests, her smile softening as she gazes up at him.

He laughs, bashfully hanging his head to bite back the smile that threatens to take over his whole face.  (y/n) laughs with him, solely for the fact that she’d gotten him to crack just a little bit.

It had been awhile since he’d acted himself around her.  Maybe only a few days, but there was a notable change.  He wanted to hang out less, was rushing out of class, and training on his own more often.  For someone as extroverted as Yuji, it was easy to notice.  It had been nagging at her for longer than she would’ve liked, but she didn’t work up the courage to address it until tonight.

“Yuji,” 

His name comes out in a soft whisper.  Had she spoken so low while they were still caught in the rain, he surely wouldn’t have heard it.  It hits him now with the force of a truck.  He can’t help but give her every ounce of his attention.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… are you alright?” 

The concern laced in her gentle voice has him worrying, too.  There was some sort of hypnosis involved whenever she spoke to him, as if she had the power to compel him to answer anything she asked.  It was a terrifying ability, however Yuji was convinced she didn’t know she possessed it, so theoretically he was safe.  For now.

When he doesn’t answer right away, (y/n) feels an overwhelming need to explain herself.

“You’ve just been a little distant and… and I want to make sure you’re doing okay.  It’s okay if you’re not, just…” She trails off for a moment, her eyes flickering between his as she tries to decode whatever heavy emotion is sitting behind them.  “Just know I’m here for you if you need to talk, or anything, alright?” 

“I know,” He nods back at her right away.  Of course he knew.  She was the most compassionate person he’d ever known.  Just being in her presence relaxed him to a dangerous state of relief.  That said, his heart was beating at odd intervals as she displayed this much concern over his well being.  “I’m okay, you don’t need to worry” 

He tries to convince her with a smile, but she must see through it, because she gives him a puzzled look as her gaze sweeps over him.  A beat passes before she takes a deep breath.

“Of course I need to,” It’s not intended for it to come out in a whisper, but it does anyways.  “I’ll…” She loses her voice again as her eyebrows pinch together.  

Yuji wonders if she doesn’t know what to say, or if she can’t say what she wants to.  Either way, he waits with as much patience as he can muster for her to finish.  

“I’ll always worry” 

When it finally comes out, (y/n) seals her lips together, pressing them just tight enough that she’s sure they won’t let anything slip that she isn’t prepared to say.  Although if the pounding heart in her chest has anything to do with it, it very well could all come tumbling out before she could stop herself.

The corners of Yuji’s mouth tilt into a frown as he stares back at her with his own concern.  This isn’t right, she shouldn’t be worrying about him.  The logical corner of his brain is raising red flags at alarming speeds.  He needs to find something to say to right this, before she could put too much of her worry in him.  He wasn’t worth worrying about, didn’t she see? He wouldn’t be here forever anyways, there were definitely more worthwhile things for her to focus on.

Instead, all that comes out is a quiet, “Why?” 

(y/n) blinks, as if not understanding what he means at first.  Her arms squeeze around herself a little tighter to preserve warmth, but really she’s only squishing the cold and soggy material of her pajama shirt against her stomach.

“Why?” She repeats in a soft huff, before shaking her head.  “You’ll never really get it, hm?” 

The tiniest of smiles forms on her lips as she looks up at him, gauging his reaction.  Just like before, he’s got that lost look on his face.  It’s cute, the little knot between his brows and the way his frown deepens but only makes his lip jut out in a pout.  One of these days she’ll tell him how adorable this look on him is, but right now she’s only seeking to help him understand the way she feels about him.

“Yuji, do you remember when we all thought you’d died, but then Gojo brought you back?”

“Of course” He answers her without hesitation.

“And I cried at you and made you promise not to do anything stupid like that again?” 

This time, Yuji nods his head back at her.

“I’d never seen you cry before” He mumbles.  Just like earlier, thinking about it makes his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

“Well, that was probably the thousandth time I’d cried over you,” She tells him, and his eyes go wide with alarm.  A short, humorless laugh escapes her as she shakes her head at him.  “Not because of anything you’d done,” She says quickly, already knowing there was going to be a misunderstanding.  “But… we thought you were dead for quite some time, and I… I didn’t know what to do with myself.  I’ve never felt like a larger failure as a sorcerer- as- as a person, when you died,” 

Yuji’s frown worsens.

“I mean I… I was a wreck, it was awful.  I could barely sleep, eat, train- I actually was denied assignments for a while.  Gojo thought I would be a liability.  I know he was just worried about me, but… what I’m trying to say is it was hard,” Her voice strains and she has to take a pause to even her breathing before her emotions could get on top of her.  “Really hard” She adds quietly.

“I… I didn’t realize it was like that,” Yuji mumbles, ducking his head to stare down at the ground.  How could he be so stupid? She’d suffered over him and shortly after coming back he’d started distancing himself without an explanation.  “I’m sorry, I feel so-” 

“No, don’t,” (y/n) steps forward, tilting her chin to catch his line of sight even when he tries to avoid her gaze.  “I don’t need you to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong, not at all,” She even gives him a small smile to convince him.  It takes a minute for him to commit to looking back at her.  “Yuji, it’s quiet the opposite” 

“The opposite?” He repeats, and she nods her head.

Her nerves have her repeatedly pushing her wet strands of hair behind her ears, tucking the same strands over and over to make sure they couldn’t possibly fall out of place.  Even though with how wet they were they practically slicked back against her head.

“I’m trying to tell you that I care about you, idiot,” She breathes out the insult so softly, so lovingly that even though it’s nature is cruel, his heart accepts it as the most darling pet name anyone had ever called him.  “So I’m going to worry about you… because I’ve lost you before, and I don’t want to go through that again” 

It doesn’t dawn on him how much closer she’d gotten to him until he lifts his head and they’re almost nose to nose.  Her eyes don’t shy away from his once.  They’re soft, and full of his favorite constellations.  He melts little by little before her, until his muscles stop shivering.

“I don’t ever want to put you through that again,” 

He whispers it as if it’s the most hidden secret he could offer her.  With it, his hand reaches out towards her, his eyes landing on the smallest strand of wet hair that she’d missed in her rampant tucking.  It’s clung to her cheek from the rain.  But his movements still just before his fingers could graze over her skin.

“But…” 

He doesn’t have to say it.  They both know.  There’s no sense in speaking about the thing that they never talk about.  It was his burden to carry, wasn’t it?  It wasn’t fair to make anyone else carry the weight of his punishment.  Even if just for a moment.  Even if his back is tired and he longs to love her like a man with no worry about a scheduled death date creeping up on him.

Yuji swallows, hard, trying to keep the unspoken reality just that- unspoken.

But he can’t help but feel as though he owes her an explanation.

“But I’m afraid I’m going to,” His mouth feels dry as he finally tiptoes towards the subject.  (y/n’s) face falls.  “One day, you know I… I’ll be gone and- and I won’t be coming back again” 

As her eyes flicker between his, there’s the smallest of movement in her chin, and incidentally she feels his fingertips ghost over her cheek.  Her head tilts towards the warmth of his featherlight touch right away, leaning into it until the pads of his fingers are pressed into her soft cheekbone.

As Yuji tells himself to pull away and step back, he finds the rest of his hand following her movement, until his palm is fitted over her cheek, and the tip of his index finger is finally pushing that stray hair back behind her ear.

“Are you afraid of death?” Her question is murmured so softly it’s almost spoken right into his lips.

He shakes his head.

“No,” He answers quietly.  “No, I’m not afraid of death.  I’m afraid of… what gets left behind,” 

He’s never shared this with anyone before.  He’d been bottling up the nasty feelings that come with knowing you’ll be executed for so long that it felt criminal to admit them to her now.  Especially when she frowns up at him, and he can see the tears forming in her pretty eyes.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to hurt the people I care about because… because I cared about them” He admits.

When she blinks, a tear escapes, and makes a run for it down her cheek.

“Yuji…” She trails off, a small gasp interrupting her.  “You won’t hurt anyone,” She tells him, even as another tear follows suit.  Just as it slips past her cheekbone, Yuji’s thumb catches it, and he wipes it away without hesitation, determined to keep her from crying over him anymore than she already has.  “We’ll be okay” 

“I don’t want to keep making you cry” He sighs, and she reaches up to grab him by the wrist, squeezing onto it as she presses her cheek further into the palm of his hand.

“You’re not making me cry,” She assures him, a watery smile stretching over her lips.  “I’m crying because- because what I’m afraid of is that you’ll die not knowing how loved you were,” 

His frown finally softens, morphing into faint surprise.

“I would never forgive myself if I didn’t make sure that you know that, every single day, for as long as you live,” She’s stammering a little bit, but there’s a sudden rush that overwhelms her, making her want to spill it all out before it’s too late.  “I’ve never… I’ve never felt so moved by another person before I met you, Yuji,” She confesses.  “I was just… training to be my best every day just because I thought that’s what you do when you’re in my position but then… then you came along, seemingly out of nowhere, and you turned everything so upside down I could barely see what the right direction was,” 

She’s cut off by a giggle that escapes her, and it’s almost out of place, but her entire face brightens with it as she relives that first blossom of feeling he’d sparked in her.  She’d never be able to describe to him exactly what he’d done for her, he’d never understand the way he sparked a purpose in her so deep that it made her feel like she’d finally grown a soul, but she could try.

“Yuji, you gave me a reason to want to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you know?” And he doesn’t know, but she continues anyway.  “You made me not only want to be a better sorcerer, but a better person.  That’s why when you died I felt so pathetic, for not being able to do something, to help you,” She explained.  “You were so bright and- and eager to do the right thing even when it was hard, even though you have every reason to just- just do whatever you want, to leave if you wanted…” 

She gnaws on her lip for a moment as she processes it all herself.  Her heart felt heavy in her chest, but she felt a certain responsibility to tell him the full truth.

“But you didn’t… you… you stayed,” She mumbles.

At this point, Yuji’s too stunned to speak, so he just stood there, frozen, taking in every word she had to say.  He doesn’t want to interrupt her, but he’s also at such a loss for words nothing would come out if he tried.

“I’m trying to tell you I- that I lo-” 

“Don’t,” 

He shakes his head, his hand sliding lower over her cheek, thumb hovering just over her lips, ready to press down if his interruption wasn’t enough to keep her from finishing her confession.  But she does stop, and he watches closely to make sure she doesn’t try again, his thumb still hovering just over her quivering lips just in case.

“Don’t say that” He whispers, quieter than the rain around them.

With the hand she still has curled around his wrist, she pulls his hand away, dropping them at their sides.

“Why not?” Her brows pinch together, her heart aching with the weight of the words still stuck inside of her.

“Because, you…” He tries to give her a reason, but it’s not an easy feat.  It takes a few tries of him opening and closing his mouth before something actually comes out.  “Because you can’t” 

She doesn’t like that answer.  She frowns back at him.

“Yuji, you-” 

“Because if you say that, then when I’ll die, I’ll know it, and I’ll know that I’m letting you down again.  I’ll know that you’ll cry over me, and you’ll- you’ll hurt and I can’t- I’m selfish, alright? I can’t cause that, I don’t want that-” 

“Yuji,” She calls his name again, this time reaching for him with her trembling fingers, clutching at the front material of his shirt to grab his attention enough to cut him off.  “It’s far too late for that now,” She says it with a chuckle and a bittersweet smile forming on her face.  Her head tilts at him, just a short angle, but enough that it makes him feel weak in the knees.  “Don’t you think?” 

No, there’s still time to take this all back, there’s still time to fix this.  There’s still time for him to end whatever is happening now and forget that it ever happened.

The faint nod he gives is only received due to the movement of his wet hair.  He’s not sure why he’s agreeing with her, but the logical corner of his brain was being squandered by his body’s instant reaction to be honest with her, to comfort her, to make everything okay, anything to keep her from crying.

“Too late?” He echoes the words curiously.  

Her smile softens as she nods back at him again, her free hand touching his jaw, so lightly he wants nothing more than to grab her wrist and press her hand into his face until the warmth of her small palm against his jaw was the only thing that he could feel.

She nods back at him, her lips pursing towards the corner of her mouth as she fights the urge to grin back at him.

“Afraid so,” She murmurs back.

They share small smiles and warm cheeks for a moment, and (y/n) becomes a little more sure of herself as she lays her fingers against the length of his jaw.

“But either way, are you gonna let me fess up now?” She asks, and it seems she really was waiting for his approval.  “I walked all this way in the rain, you know-” 

“When you have my number” He reminds her, and she laughs again, quiet and sweet.

“I felt like the walk” 

“During a huge storm?”

“Needed the air” 

“You’re soaked to the bone, you’re still shivering” 

“And it’s so bad that I wanted to come ‘n see you?” 

“I’m in love with you,” 

The bantering ends there.  (y/n’s) eyes double in size, and her shaking fingers finally still against his skin.  There’s no doubt that she heard him, but with how frozen she is before him now it was as if he suddenly lost the ability to understand the language.

Yuji’s cradling her face again, his hands cupped under her jaw and his face so close she could almost tear up again.

“I’m so in love with you,” He says it again for good measure, or just because he couldn’t hold it back now that it was out there.  “I…” He shakes his head, a breathless laugh escaping him, before he can’t help but confess one more time.  “I love you” 

“I love you too” It comes out so fast, as if the blockage in her throat was suddenly removed.  It’s followed by the faintest of smiles at first, timid and sweet- it’s the most innocent he’s ever seen her look.  

(Compared to the twisted grins she’d wear on assignments and even while training on her own, at least)

The shy smile quickly spreads wider, until it’s a goofy and toothy grin.  She can’t contain the spurts of giggles that escape her, because it’s just all too cliche isn’t it? Getting caught in the rain, sharing confessions that might be better left unsaid- and yet they just couldn’t help themselves.

He’s laughing with her, quiet and soft, before his hands drop to her hips and wind around her waist, tugging her against him in a tight hug. 

The sticky wet clothes make them both chilly again, but no one seems to mind.  Not when she’s wrapping her arms around his neck so tight that their wet clothes are clinging together.  They hang on as tight as they can before the wet clothes become too much of a hindrance, and they have to peel apart.

“C’mon,” Yuji’s quick to sling his arm around her waist and pull her towards the door.  “Let’s get some dry clothes” 

She follows him in, keeping as close as she can and walking on the tips of her toes once they’re inside, just to be sure that they wouldn’t be heard.  Even though the thunder was still rolling outside, Megumi was a known light sleeper, and they wouldn’t put it past him to wake up at the slightest creak of a floorboard.

“And something to eat, too?” She whispers, peeking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Yuji nods, smiling back at her.  It was ridiculously late, they surely wouldn’t be getting enough sleep to be well rested tomorrow, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

“Anything in mind?” He asks as they creep their way through the halls.  The smile she gives him in return suggests that she already knew exactly what she wanted.  Yuji can’t say he’s surprised when she answers.

“Meatballs…?” 

And it might be a ridiculous ask- because it’s two in the morning and it’ll be at least an hour before they could actually eat the meatballs, but Yuji beams at the suggestion, and agrees to the request right away.

“It’s about time I teach you how to make them, anyways” He says softly.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agreed, whispering just as carefully.  “I’d like that a lot” 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ lost but now i am found // i can see that once i was blind // tryna take what i could get, scared that i couldn’t find all the answers honey ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

[cyberluvzu]

Could you do some head canons for dating Jeff the killer?

JEFF THE KILLER DATING HEADCANONS

Jeff The Killer x Reader

I've never really written about Jeff, but I definitely have a couple of headcanons about him. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST MWAHHHH (also I'm SO SORRY for not responding sooner, I completely forgot I had this in my drafts 😭)

- Pretty cocky

- In the "I'm so much better than you all, just look at my partner and tell me I'm wrong" way and in the "I'm so hot and sexy, look at me" way

- LOVES PDA

- He goes INSANE with it bro

- Hand holding? Kissing? Literally touching you in any way?

- Immediate yes from Jeff

- Really likes the idea of people knowing your his

- Would find ways to make sure people know

- Maybe wearing a necklace or some kind of jewelry with his initial on it

- Or he'll mark you up if you'd like

- Bro goes feral when you let him

- He just loves the idea of people knowing you are his

- I think that he would cut his smile back in every now and then, after it inevitably starts to heal

- You'd have to help him clean and disinfect it

- He refuses to, just because he knows you'll go and help him

- And because he's lazy

- SPEAKING OF WHICH

- Lazy as fuck

- Expect a lot of "I just wanna stay in tonight babe" getting thrown at you

- He loves showing you off, yes of course he wants people to see you in that cute outfit, and know that only he can have you

- But he also likes to stay in with you, just the both of you, him and you all comfy, cuddled up and just being alone together

- He'd like it when you'd get all dressed up for him

- This man LOVEEESSSS when you dress like he asks you to

- "You should wear this top, you'd look hot, babe"

- "Hmm... okay!"

- He's absolutely internally celebrating

- He also has pretty bad anger issues

- When he does have his outbursts and they happen to be directed to you, he'll come and apologize after an hour or so

- You'd seriously have to work with him to get it in check, because WOAH BRO

- He'd be upset about a mission going wrong and then take it out on you, but he knows it's not your fault, he's just pissed off

- But he can't control it and ends up lashing out

- Leaves you alone for a while, for his sake and yours

- One of you ends up going to the other and talking about it

- He'd still be mad about his issue, just won't direct it at you because he feels bad about before

- You'd have to work on communication with him, he's obviously not the best at it

- Branching off of that

- He also gets jealous pretty easily

- A guy is hitting on you? Boom he's on the floor and Jeff is beating his ass

- Gets mad when people flirt with you or talk with you in a manner that he considers "too friendly"

- Thankfully he understands that it's not your fault, it's the other person's

- But that doesn't mean he won't be upset at you

- Oh no, no, no

- He'll be upset and not know what to take it out on...but you're there, because you always are.

- He ends up being mad at you, but just slightly

- A snarky comment here and there, but c'mon now, it's Jeff, whatcha expect?

- He doesn't get TOO mad at you, just more frustrated

- Because why'd you have to go and be all smexy and hot??? 😓😓

- But when he inevitably calms down, he understands it's not you, and to stop talking shit

- He'd absolutely call you all kinds of nicknames

- His favorites are, baby, doll, sweetheart, and my love

- Would definitely call you nicknames in front of everyone so they know you love him and he loves you

- He'd also like to put his hand on your thigh whenever you two sit next to eachother, it's almost a comfort thing for him

- Likes to brag about dating you

- "oh I'm ugly? Then how did I score my sexy ass partner?"

- He has zero shame about loving you

- Absolutely none

- He'd send you messages when he's on missions because he misses you

- But he's too stubborn to admit it

- Would send you pictures of the people he killed and call it his "work of art", "masterpiece", something along those lines

- He worked hard pls be proud :((

- Has minor insomnia, so expect to be staying up with him late into the night

- He likes when you stay up for him, because it means more time with his favorite person

- Stays up and talks with you, plays video games, cuddles, anything you or him wants to do

- He absolutely loves the nights where you two stay up late, cuddle, and talk. He loves spending more time with you

- So what he already spent the whole day with you? He wants more!!!!

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

HELLO GUYS!!!! I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD🙏🙏🙏. I MISSED YOU ALL DEARLY. I've literally been so busy it's genuinely insane 😭😭. I lwk half-assed proof reading this, so I'm sorry if there's anything wrong. BUT THATS IT I LOVE YALLLL MWAHHHH MWAH

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Lord Muzan Kibutsuji Headcanons: Power And Control (Demon Slayer)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins, and Bad Butt Biscuits! I am here with a new chapter! This one has The Original Version of Muzan as I did the Female/Genderbent Version of him! So now let's Do Muzan! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!] 

(Disclaimer: Muzan is not yandere in canon this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional and yandere characters is fine just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are, you dirty flaky biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Lord Muzan Kibutsuji- 

.He is a man that loves power and control and hates a lot of change.  .He does like things when they do change in his benefit. .Because if you look at him, he wears more modern clothes, has a more modern chair, and a more modern car (For the time period of the show)

.He may say he does not like change, but he does like the benefits of the modern age he is in. 

.Though the change he does not like it more the things to do with his demise, he has a fear of death. 

.He had this fear of death since he was alive and was close to death, being the first demon was not enough for him. 

.He has to conquer the sun as well. 

.He was not a good husband, as he pushed his five wives to take their own lives.  .He was not the best partner to have that was for sure as he had never felt love for anyone.    .That was until he met you, something about you consumed him. 

.He did not like the control he did not have over it or how he felt. 

.How his heart raced, how you were always on every single thought he had, how he longed to have you in his presence.  .It goes on and on and he hated it with all his being and blamed you for the lack of control you made him have. 

.Yes he would blame all these new and strange feelings on you, you must be some sort of magic user that has cast a spell on him and made him weak for a pathetic human like yourself.  .That is what he thought, at least at first.  .For at some point he could not stand being without you and you would become a prisoner in the infinity palace.  .That is right, Lord Muzan is the type of yandere to capture you/kidnap you, and keep you in a gilded cage.  .He finds himself to like your company and he likes the power he has on you.  .That you are fully dependent on him for food, company, and well anything really.  .Some days he forgets to feed you and other days he makes you beg. 

.He can be a very mocking yandere and loves the power he has over you.  .Though if you did try and hurt yourself or kill yourself to escape him, he would grab you by the throat, in a bloodthirsty enraged way.  .He learns in this moment that you are something special to him, and he is not going to let you take the easy way out and leave him. .This moment that happens will actually have him treating you better, he is less cold to you, and remember to feed you more often. 

.At this point he has learned that he cannot live without you, and he only would not have turned you into a demon yet because of the demon slayers.  .Even if he gave you a lot of his blood, you would still not be strong enough to fight off Hashiras.  .So he is not going to risk his prize being harmed or stolen from him. 

.He still has the power and control over you, he just allows you more freedoms now.  .Everyone now knows that you belong to him, so no one dares lay a hand on you, if they did well they would be slaughtered and made an example of.  .He also finds himself considering something, that you would need the best of things, if you are going to belong to the Demon King, then you must look the part.  .So he would spoil you, yes this is Muzan as a yandere for sure, once he accepts that he has a darling that is.  .Him showering you with gifts, is a way of having his ownership over you. 

.You are wearing the clothes, he thinks is nice. You have on the make-up that, he thinks you look good in, your hair is done in a way he loves. The list can go on and on. 

.But of course, Muzan is a master manipulator, so you would not know any of this.  .Muzan would have successfully tricked you into thinking that all of it is things you chose and things you liked. .And you are so deep into his mind games that you do not realize it was him pulling the strings. 

.He is the type of yandere that would mold you because he is not the type of yandere that needs to change for his darling.  .Why would he have to change, he is almost nearly perfect. 

.All he has to do is conquer the sun, and make you his spouse!  .That is all that he needs to do and then his life will be perfect.  .On a bit of a more steamy note, he would have much desire to claim you in an intimate way over and over and over.  .He will show you just a great lover, and future husband he can be. .If he did have "rivals" well let's be honest, it is laughable that they even consider themselves to be his rivals.  .No, Demon Slayer, Human, or Demon (other than himself of course) was good enough for you.  .So if someone claimed you to be theirs, they were simply erased from the world. 

.He would not confess his love, instead, he is going to just one day declare that you are his and that you were his the day he kidnapped you, you just did not know it yet. 

.You also would no longer be allowed to see family and friends, and if he deems it, he will be the only other person you ever see again.  .So you might as well as give up and accept your fate, be a good little spouse for him, and warm his bed.  .If you can do that you will get a treat, remember It does not matter if you love him right now, you will be immortal like him and then you both have all the time in the world... 

.And Muzan he will have all the power and control over you for all this time and all the time to come.  .You are his, you never had a choice. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope you all enjoyed and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[sarahsmi13s]

Duckie

Chapter 9

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x bradshaw!reader; bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x twin sister!reader

characters: y/n bradshaw, nick bradshaw, jake seresin, penny benjamin, serenity hart, denver miller

word count: ~10.7k (don't kill me i know the chapter lengths are all over the place, i'm sorry)

warnings: language, parental doubts, canon character deaths mentioned, drinking, thunderstorms, jake being an absolute sweetheart

a/n: i want to apologize that is has been 8 months since i have last updated the main story, i really didn't think it would take that long... but i just wanted to make sure i was proud of the chapter and i really do think i am proud of it. so thank you for your patience and i hope you enjoy 💜

series summary: daughter of goose and carole and twin sister to bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw, y/n bradshaw also got her papers pulled when she tried to enlist in the Navy. which turned out to not be as bad as she thought.

chapter summary: a week after duckie and jake went on their "not-date" she is seriously regretting not getting jake's number before he left -- considering they haven't seen each other since. though, as fate would have it, that weekend they see each other at the beach and as duckie is walking away jake gets a push from his friends to get her number. little does he know he'll be getting much more than that from her

'duckie' universe

previous chapter || next chapter

It had been a hectic week since your ‘not date’ date with Jake and honestly… you were missing him. Nick was missing him too, hugging the cowboy manta ray every afternoon when he napped. You were really kicking yourself for not getting his number, you had no way of talking to him. And you both were busy, you with school stuff and softball practices and Jake with his Top Gun classes. So you just had to bet on the off chance of running into him again.

Late that Saturday morning, you and Nick were walking the beach, occasionally splashing in the surf. You wanted to tire him out so when Serenity came over later to babysit, he wasn’t too much trouble.

At some point when you had been distracted, Nick had run off without you noticing, most likely seeing something he liked or wanted.

When you do notice his absence, it’s because you don’t hear giggling and splashing. You look down next to you and panic shoots through you when you see that your son isn’t right at your feet. 

“Nick? Nick! Nicky!”

Your chest heaved with your panicked breathing, thoughts running through your mind a mile and a half a minute as you shouted and ran across the beach like a mad woman – shouting for your son.

How could this happen? How could you not notice that your toddler wasn’t right next to you? What kind of mother gets that distracted that she doesn’t even hear her child run off? How did you not notice? Why didn’t you hear him? Why did you let something else pull your attention away that fast and for that long?

Maybe those middle aged mothers in the store were right? Maybe you were too young to be a decent mom… Maybe you shouldn’t–

“Han’man!” 

The small, but excited voice shut your thoughts off in an instant, relief flooding your entire body as you ran in the direction you heard your son – nearly tripping over your own feet in the panic. 

You spotted the classic beach volleyball court and saw Jake pick him up, looking equally as confused as he was happy. 

“Nick where’s your-” 

“Nicholas Jacob!” You called, adrenaline still pumping through your body.

Your son yelped a little and turned into Jake’s neck upon hearing you shout as the pilot cringed. The first and middle name? Never a good sign. 

“Oooh, someone’s in trouble,” he mumbled, instinctively rubbing the child’s back in order to keep him calm. 

The other aviators noticed this and gave Hangman a confused look. They were in the middle of a volleyball match and then boom a toddler’s running into the pilot's legs. And now he was comforting said child, not something they would expect from him usually.

Nick threw his arms around Jake’s neck, not turning to look at you as you ran over, sliding a little as the sand shifted under your heavy steps. “You can’t just run off like that! Do you know how worried I was?!”

The other pilots probably should have looked away, minded their own business. But now they were very intrigued as you came up to Jake as he held your son. 

And by the time you got in arms reach you had calmed down slightly, trying to channel your mother to help you handle this situation.

“Nicky,” you coaxed, as you got closer and reached out to rub his back. He just buried his face into Jake’s shoulder, a small cry coming from his lips as he hugged the pilot tighter. He hates yelling, he doesn’t like it when people are mad at him. You played with his curls, knowing that he thought you were angry, “Baby, I’m not mad… You just worry me when you run off like that. You are too much like your Uncle.” 

Nick looked at you finally, but still rested his head on Jake’s shoulder. His eyes were red and you sighed, knowing that he still thought you were mad. “I’m sorry I shouted, Nicky. Mama’s not mad at you. I promise.” He sniffled and reached out for you. You smiled softly and took him into your arms, then he promptly buried his face into your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, guys,” you apologized, looking around at all the pilots. “I don’t know how he got away from me.” Jake shook his head, waving it off with a flick of his wrist, “It’s okay. I was winnin’ anyway.” You laughed, bouncing Nick instinctively, “Alright, well, we’ll leave you to it.” You adjusted Nick on your hip, smiling at the men before walking away.

Jake watched you walk away before turning back to his classmates, clapping his hands together and ready to start the next match. But he was met with crossed arms and expecting looks. “Okay let’s – What?” 

“You’re in so deep, Hangman,” Denver, also known as ‘Ransom’, said with a teasing scoff. “Have you gotten her number yet?” 

The blond shook his head, “No but I figured she’d offer it when she was ready.” The other pilot rolled his eyes. “Seresin, since when have you ever waited for her to make the move?” Jake huffed, “She’s different. I don’t want to move too fast. I want her to know that I’m all in first.” 

Denver crossed his arms, “Hangman, go ask her. Show her you’re all in. She won’t know if you don’t tell her. And I’m pretty sure she’s a little nervous to ask you. You know… given that she doesn’t know!” 

Jake’s eyes widened in realization, making the brunette laugh as Jake jogged after you, “Hey, Y/N, wait up!”

You turned as he called out to you, Nicky looking up as well from his spot on your shoulder. Looking up at him as he slowed down to a stop in front of you, you tilted your head a little, “Yeah?”

He took a few deep breaths, talking with one hand as the other rested on his hip, “First I want to preface, it’s totally cool if you say no. But we’ve been getting to know each other, and I was wondering if I could get your number?” 

You looked at Nick then back at Jake, thinking about your response carefully. “I’ll be at the bar tonight. Come by and we’ll talk about it.” 

Jake nodded, and smirked, “I look forward to it.” He ruffled Nick’s hair before going back to the group.

You smiled, eyeing him as he walked away – a little more confidence in his step as he walked up to his friend. 

You know you were kicking yourself before for not getting his number, but now that he’s asked you… you were hesitant, you felt like you had a lot you needed to tell him before you took this step. Sighing a little, you adjusted Nick on your hip again and made your way back to your car.

During the drive home, Nicky was quiet and played with the shells he had found on the beach.

You knew he was still upset from when you yelled, and you knew that he didn’t quite understand why you were so worried. He was only three after all, and he had so much wonder that it was a miracle he didn’t run off to squash his curiosities more often.

He did need to understand why you had shouted and why you were so worried, it was important that he knew that.

But neither of you were ready to give nor receive that conversation. You were still thrumming with that anxiety from the 90 second eternity it took to find him and he was still upset from when you yelled at him. You just needed to wait for when you got home after you both calmed down.

When you got home, you gave Nicky his bath in near silence as you made sure all the sand was gone and he was clean of salt water.

You had thought through your side of the conversation and decided on how you were going to talk to him.

After getting him bathed and getting some comfy clothes picked out, you knelt in front of him as you helped him dry off.

“Nicky? Can we talk about what happened at the beach?” 

He sniffed, nodding his head under the little shark hood of his towel. 

You smiled softly at him and gave a gentle squeeze to his arms. “You know Mama isn’t angry right?” “You yelled… people yell when they’re angy…” His voice was soft and timid, he was trying not to cry again. 

“Oh baby…” You tilted his head up and cupped his cheek. “Sometimes people yell when they’re angry or mad. But not all the time.” Confusion flashed over his tearfilled eyes and you sighed. 

You sat back on your heels, wiping his tears away with your thumb. “People can yell for a lot of different reasons, Nick. Sometimes we yell or shout because we’re excited, we’ve done that before haven’t we? Like when you saw Hangman and shouted because you were so excited to see him.” 

He nodded, using the towel to wipe his other eye as you gave him an encouraging smile.

“It all comes down to how we say something, and I know that might not make sense just yet, because you’re three, but it will and we’ll talk more about it then. But I know you don’t like yelling when people sound angry or mean, it’s loud and it can be scary, right?” He nodded again, sniffling a little, “Yeah…” 

You nodded, dipping your head a little to look him in the eye. “And Mama’s sorry if she sounded angry or mean, that wasn’t my intention. But you running off like that scared me, it really really scared me. I didn’t know if you were hurt or lost.” 

“But I was safe with Han’man… I was okay Mama…” 

“I know that now. But in the moment I was really worried about you and I didn’t know where you had run off too. That’s why I shouted.” 

You rubbed his arms, making sure to hold eye contact. “You can’t just run off like that without telling me. It makes me worried for your safety.” 

The dam finally broke and Nick started sobbing. “I’m sorry Mama… I-I jus’ saw Han’man an-and wa-wanted to s-say hi…” 

“I know, I know baby,” you cooed, wiping his tears as they fell. “And Mama forgives you, I know you didn’t mean to. And I know there will be times where you’re really really curious and you want to explore, but you have to tell me so I, or someone else, can make sure you’re safe. And there will be times I’m gonna yell, but I still love you okay? And I will do better to control my tone in the future.” 

He sniffled and hugged you tightly, his little arms wrapping around your neck in a grip that rivaled a grown man. You smiled and adjusted your legs, crossing them before wrapping him tighter in his towel and pulling him into your lap.

You sat on his floor for a while, holding him close and rocking back and forth as you pressed kisses to the side of his head.

It wasn’t too long after that conversation that Serenity was using her spare key to come in, finding you and Nick giggling in the living room as you watched Kung Fu Panda.

“Looks like I’m missing all the fun,” she laughed, sitting her backpack down on the bar. 

Nick sat up, a wide smile on his face, “Ren!” She smiled and walked over, her arms out wide for a hug, “Nicky J!” He got off the couch quickly and ran to her, hugging her with a high pitched giggle. 

You smiled as you stood up, “Oh I don’t know about missing the fun, just a little late to the party.” 

“Well, I guess I have some fun to catch up on,” she said as she ruffled Nicky’s curls. “And Mama can relax a little bit.” 

You nodded because now that she was here you could take a shower and get ready to go to the bar. You needed the moment of solitude to collect yourself after your mild panic attack on the beach. Needed to take a second alone to let the parental mask slip and just let yourself feel.

“Yes, and I will be showering and getting ready to go to the bar. You both can finish the movie and give me the rundown when I come back.” 

Serenity nodded, “You got it, we’ll take notes. Won’t we buddy?” Nicky nodded, “And we can act it out for you too!” You smiled and played with his hair, “Yes you can, and I look forward to it.” Nick giggled, running back over to climb on the couch and continue watching the movie.

You looked at the college student, brows raised as you let out a breath. She arched her eyebrow inquisitively, “Mama need me time?” You nodded, rubbing your hands on your thighs. “She needs so much me time. Had a bit of a scare at the beach and I need a minute to process it, without him two feet away… God, that sounds so bad doesn’t it?”

She shook her head, grabbing your wrist gently, “Not at all. You need space to breathe, that’s why I’m here – well, and cause I love that little man over there.” You both laughed, glancing over at the couch where Nick was zeroed in on the TV. 

Her grip tightened momentarily to gain your attention again. “And you’re doing great, Y/N. Don’t ever question that.” 

A rush of tears filled your eyes, a weight you hadn’t realized was sitting on your chest lifting ever so slightly and allowing you to actually breathe again. Biting your lip to keep from crying in front of your son, you hugged Serenity letting out a heavy exhale that released the obsessive thoughts that rattled in your head. 

“Thank you…” 

Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but your gratitude was nothing short of a scream. 

Serenity rubbed your back, “And I will fight anyone that says otherwise. Even you. Understand?” She pulled back only when you did as you nodded and wiped your face. “Good,” she nodded towards your bedroom with a smile. “Now go shower.” 

You nodded, squeezing her shoulder in thanks before jogging towards your room.

She smiled after you before turning to your son, clapping her hands as she walked over, “Okay Nicky, let’s make sure we get all the details for Mama.” 

After your much needed shower, taking the solitary moment to breathe and let more tears fall to just release the stress, you got dressed in a pair of jeans and an old band t-shirt you had held onto from when you went through your mom’s things. And you added a black jacket because it had clouded over while you were in the shower. 

And of course, Nicky gave you the rundown of what you missed of Kung Fu Panda while you got ready before going back to let you finish up.

You took a deep breath as you clasped the guitar pick necklace behind your neck, letting the engraved gold rest against your sternum. Kendall had gotten it for you for graduation, having your favorite lyric of Great Balls of Fire engraved on the front – because he indeed drove you crazy and vice versa. For Christmas, Penny went and had Kendall’s initials engraved on the back, knowing that you’d be giving the necklace to Nicky once he was old enough.

Letting the breath out and calming yourself down, you stepped out of your room and slipped your jacket on as you walked to the door. “Okay, I’m heading out. It looks like it might rain, so just call me if anything happens or you need me to come home, okay?” 

Serenity nodded from her spot on the couch, popping a goldfish cracker into her mouth “Got it, go have fun.” 

You squatted down and Nicky ran over to give you a hug. “Bye Mama, have fun with Han’man.” You smiled and rubbed his back, “I will. Be good for Ren okay? I won’t be back until after you go to bed, so I love you baby.” You gave him kisses all over his face, “Mwah, I love you sooo much.” He giggled and kissed your temple, “I love you too Mama.” 

You shared a smile and he ran back to the couch to curl up in his corner.

“Okay, you know all the numbers Ren. If I don’t answer, call Penny or the bar. Okay, I’m gonna head out now, see if I can beat the rush of pilots that are gonna get grounded soon. I love you both, bye.”

They both waved at you as you grabbed your purse and walked out the door.

About 90 minutes and one Amarello after you arrived, you watched Jake stroll into the bar, his green eyes finding you leaning on the bar immediately despite the crowd in front of him. 

“Howdy,” you greeted with a smile as he walked over and leaned on the bar next to you. “Hi, Darlin’,” he replied, grinning down at you.

You glanced around, the bar wasn’t as packed as you thought it would be, but it was still full of pilots since the surprise showers grounded their classes for the rest of the day. 

You looked back at Jake, remembering his question from earlier today on the beach. As you drove over and the hour and half you had to yourself at the bar, you had tried your best to prepare your speech, get everything you needed to say in order so you didn’t fuck anything up and miscommunicate your feelings.

Sighing, you closed your eyes, recalling everything you had lined up to tell him. You didn’t look in his eyes, keeping your gaze centered on his chest, knowing his green irises would wipe your memory. 

“I’m gonna be honest here Jake…” 

He held up his hand, gently interrupting you, “I get it, Y/N. If you still aren’t ready for a relationship, I understand. But I still want to be a friend that you can call, whether it be just to talk to me or if you need help.” 

You sighed, relief filling your chest knowing that he was willing to wait, but you still wanted, no needed, to tell him how you were feeling. 

You finally looked up in his eyes, swallowing the word vomit of emotions that wanted to escape, “Jake, you have done a lot these past few weeks. You’ve taken the time not only to get to know me but to get to know Nick. That means so much to me, more than you know. And I can tell that Nick already likes you, so I can’t just let you out of our life easily.” 

Jake smiled, bashfully looking down at the bar as a chuckle broke through his lips, “I try my best. And I’m a little offended that you thought getting rid of me would ever be easy.” 

You rolled your eyes before continuing. 

“And I do like you, Jake. I like you a lot. While you are cocky as hell, you’re sweet and a gentleman. It’s just…” You rocked on your feet, thinking of everything you needed to say but couldn’t put into words – your rehearsed lines disappearing into thin air now that Jake was here. Damn those eyes.

You hung your head, trying to see if looking away from him would help re-materialize the pre-coordinated words. 

But Jake ducked his head to meet your eyes, showing you he was listening and chasing away your coherent thoughts, “It’s just what, Y/N?” 

You glanced at Penny, receiving a reassuring nod from her and sending a short one back. “I’m gonna step outside really quick Pen, watch my drink?” She nodded and gave you a small, encouraging smile. 

“Follow me,” you patted Jake's shoulder, and slid your hand down his arm to grab his hand. 

You pulled him outside to the covered deck and leaned on the railing, taking a deep breath to inhale the scent of the rain – trying to reign in your racing thoughts.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Jake’s whiskey smooth voice asked as he leaned on the railing as well, his back facing the clouds.

You cleared your throat, dropping your head to look at the damp sand as you pieced together the puzzle of emotions and words in your head. 

“My dad died when I was 4… He left my mom alone to raise 2 kids that were too much like their father. I told myself that I need to stay away from service men, definitely pilots. But you, and your perfect teeth and perfect hair, those damn green eyes…” 

Jake was flattered but he could feel how this was going to end. You’d build up his ego to cushion his fall when you turned him down.  

“You have become an exception to my one rule.” Okay… Jake certainly wasn’t expecting that. “A rule that I gave myself on my own. I’m just scared, Jake. Nick and I have grown so… close to you and I’m afraid–” 

Jake lifted your chin, cutting you off, and quietly spoke to you, noting the thin line of tears in your water line. “Hey… I understand. But I’m a damn good pilot, I ain’t goin’ down easy.” You laughed, shaking your head fondly before smiling up at him, “There’s that ego.” 

He chuckled softly, his trademark half-smile flashing a canine, “What can I say? But seriously, I will do whatever it takes to get back to you both safe. If that’s what you want.” 

You nodded, stepping closer, unconsciously straightening your back to be closer to him, “I want it, I do.” You bit your lip, a shuddering breath escaping your lips. 

His soft gaze hardened slightly, reading your body language, but it softened again as he tilted your chin up. “Then why are you hesitating?” You shrugged, shaking your head subtly, “I don’t know.” 

You knew why, deep down you knew why you were holding back. Why you wanted to spray the butterflies in your stomach with vinegar. Your brain knew why. But your heart was pounding on your ribcage, trying to get to your brain to tell you it was okay. That you could love again, and it would all be okay.

Jake leaned down, seeing the fight in your eyes. “Is this okay?” You nodded, your breath mixing with his as you looked from his eyes to his lips and back again.

There was a soft eagerness, a puppy in those green eyes waiting to run around, bouncing as he waited for his command – a command only you could give. It was familiar but completely new at the same time. But it felt safe.

Instead of giving him the words he was looking for, you rested your hand on the side of his neck and pressed your lips to his – letting your heart take the wheel.

The kiss was soft, but it didn’t change the fact that butterflies went wild in both of your stomachs. Jake couldn’t help but smile against your lips as he cupped your jaw and tasted the hint of Amaretto on them.

You pulled away, needing to get air into your lungs but Jake chased your lips, catching them in their minty trap. It was clear he came prepared for anything, not that you minded. 

Your free hand fisted in his jacket, wafting his cologne into the air – an all consuming, but not overwhelming scent.

You both finally pulled away from the chaste kiss, light headed and breathless. You stayed close, your noses brushing against each other. 

“What’s gonna happen when you leave?” 

Jake smirked, his breath still tickling your lips as he pulled out his phone, “Well, I’m not sure, but it’d be a hell of a lot easier with your number.” You laughed and finally looked up at him, stepping back a little to take his phone, “Smooth Lieutenant. Very smooth.”

As you and Jake held eye contact a smile settled across your face before you looked down at his phone, typing in your number and sending a text to yourself.

Jake couldn’t help the blush that darked his tanned cheeks at the sparkle of your smile that not even the rain could dim. 

You weren’t like anything he’s ever seen before; a strong, single mother that did everything for the sake of her child and someone that had gone through so much at such a young age.

“You’re amazing…” 

Jake hadn’t realized what he said out loud until you giggled and looked down at the deck with pink tinted cheeks. 

“I said that out loud, didn't I?” He laughed at the end of his question. You nodded, “You did. But I’m flattered, so thank you.” 

You messed with his jacket, “And you’re good, Lieutenant. Maybe too good to be true.” 

“You’re stroking my ego, Darlin’.” You giggled and gave him a quick kiss, “I better head back in.” He grabbed your waist, “Do you have to?” “Do you want to have fun or not?” He bit his lip and you patted his chest and walked in. 

He watched you walk in and shook his head. Laughing to himself he adjusted his posture and went in and straight to the pool table.

You and Jake hung out at the bar for hours after that, having the time of your life. 

You danced to the music that came from the jukebox, played darts and you watched him play pool. You drank and ate, Penny keeping an eye on you both because you had to drive back home to your son and Jake did not need a hangover in the morning.

But you didn’t need the drinks to have a good time. Like right now. Jake had suggested another round of darts, but this time, you added a few spins before your throw. Almost like kids getting ready to hit a pinata at a party.

Jake grinned as he spun you around a few times. “Okay, now that you’re properly dizzy, why don’t you try and get a bullseye?” 

“You’re kidding me,” you giggled as you swayed a little on your feet. “I doubt I’m gonna hit the target. I can’t hit it when I’m standing straight, what makes you think I can hit it when I’m dizzy?”

He shook his head and turned you by your shoulders to square up to the board. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be better?” You snorted as you raised the dart, “I highly doubt that.” He scoffed playfully, “Just throw the dart, Y/N.”

You giggled, “Okay okay.” 

Your tongue poked out of the seam of your lips as your vision swam a bit and you lined up your shot. 

Taking a few balk throws, you finally get ready to actually throw it when there is a harsh crack, followed by a loud, booming sound – loud enough to rattle the windows.

“Oh shit!”

Any attempt you had made to actually aim the dart didn’t matter, because when you jumped at the harsh thunder the dart was sent on its own journey.

You laughed at your reaction to the sudden thunder and leaned back against Jake, “I can blame that horrible throw on the thunder, right?” He looked over your shoulder, seeing the dart about a foot and a half under the board in the wall.

“You sure it was thunder?” 

Your jaw dropped and you smacked his chest with the back of your hand, “That was uncalled for Seresin. But I walked into that one.” You both laughed as Jake nodded, “Yeah, I guess I can give you another shot Bradshaw.”

“Well, thank you oh so gracious Hangman,” you sassed a little as you readied another dart. “I’m actually gonna try this time.”

He chuckled and crossed his arms as he watched you repeat your process, his eyes drawn to your lips as your tongue once again pokes out. 

You managed to throw the dart just as the lights flickered out. 

“Are you fucking serious? The weather really doesn’t want me to hit this board,” you grumbled as you pulled your phone out to use your flashlight. 

Jake did the same, him immediately shining it at the dart board.

“Look at what we have here, you actually hit the board,” he teased as he walked up to the board. “Not a bullseye, but you hit it.” You flipped your hair, “Look at me go. Mama’s still got it.” 

Jake gave you a look, his face deadpanned and his brow low. You held his eyes, yours playfully squinting. 

It was a standoff for about 20 seconds before you both started laughing.

“C’mon Mother Goose, let’s go to the bar,” he chuckled as he grabbed your hand gently.

You froze for a second, confused as to where he got that nickname from – forgetting it was just a nursery rhyme to everyone else at that moment. 

He looked at you, frowning in concern, “Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” 

You shook it off, swallowing as you nodded, “Yeah, yeah… I’m okay.” 

With a furrowed brow, he stepped closer, tilting your chin up with a crooked finger, “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?” 

His light tease pulled you back fully. 

“N-No, I’m fine, it’s okay,” you said softly as you shook your head. He cupped your cheek, “Are you sure?” You nodded, “Yeah, yeah, just thought of Nicky… He’s not the best with storms sometimes.” 

“Do you wanna check in on him? Make sure he’s doing okay? Especially now that the power’s out.” 

You chewed on your lip, your thumb and pinky tapping rhythmically on your thigh. “Are you sure it’s okay?” 

Jake nodded, “Of course it is! That’s your baby, do not question if it’s okay. It’s always okay.” You immediately open your contacts, “Thank you.” 

He smiled, squeezing your hand, “I’ll be at the bar when you’re ready, if you gotta go home, that’s okay.”

You gave him a smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’ as your phone rang, waiting for Serenity to pick up. 

Jake nodded again before going over to the bar.

Penny and Jimmy were turning on battery powered lanterns and setting them up around the bar. 

“You guys need some help?” Jake offered as he leaned on the bar.

She looked up at him as she sat a lantern down on the bar, “You don’t think you could get the power back on, could ya?” 

Jake laughed lightly, “If my call sign was Sparky, I might be able to give it a shot. Unfortunately, it’s not.” Penny shook her head with a laugh, “It’s alright Hangman, once we get these set up, we’ll hopefully get the generator up and running.” 

He nodded, “In the meantime, I’ll take two waters, if you can spare them.” She nodded with a smile, “Coming right up.”

As she got the bottles out of the ice bucket she prepped after looking at the forecast, you came over after finishing up your call.

You sighed a little as you sat down. 

“Hey,” Jake greeted as he rubbed your knee. “How’s the little man holdin’ up? He alright?” You nodded, smiling as you rested your hand on his, “Yeah, Serenity said he was snuggled up on the couch with his turtle and his manta ray, watching movies with plenty of goldfish crackers.”

Penny popped up, “You have power?” 

“Nope,” you laughed a little awkwardly. “He’s watching it on Serenity’s laptop. Which I told her she didn’t have to let him do that. She’s got stuff to do for summer classes but mine was dead. I just hope she doesn’t get behind.”

She gave you your water, “She’s a good kid, I’m sure she’ll be okay for one night.” You nodded and sipped your drink, “Yeah.”

You looked around noticing that everyone started to mellow out since the place was practically pitch black – save for the lanterns.

“Man… seems the lights weren’t the only thing the storm took out. How long until the generator is up and running?” You asked, leaning on the bar. 

Penny shrugged, “I don’t know. It depends, we haven’t used it in a few years. It shouldn’t take too long, I think Jimmy checked on it after the clouds rolled in and the forecast changed.”

You nodded and looked around, “Well, maybe some live music can hold everyone over until then.” Penny and Jake furrowed their brows as you grabbed a lantern and went over to the piano.

“What? Did you seriously think that Bradley was the only one of my father’s kids that could play? C’mon now Penny, you should know better than that,” you teased with a playful wink over your shoulder.

Jake furrowed his brow, “Have you been holding out on me Mother Goose?” His tone was entirely playful as he came over to piano with his phone flashlight on as a fresh toothpick hung from his lips.

Penny blinked and looked up, a rush of nostalgia hitting her, “Wait did you just call her ‘Mother Goose’?” Jake looked up at her and nodded as he rolled the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, “Yes ma’am I did.” She nodded and glanced at you as she wiped down the bar, “And um… w-where did that nickname come from?” 

He shrugged, “She’s got a little duck on her keychain and she’s a mama. Just kinda makes sense, I guess. Why do you ask?” 

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you tapped the keys. 

“Oh I was just-” Penny started but you cut her off gently.

“Goose was my dad’s call sign, Jake. A lot of his friends from the Academy and flight school called him ‘Mother Goose’,” you said, emotion present in your voice but you weren’t sad.

Jake stumbled over his words a little, “Oh I-I had no idea. I can stop if you w-want me too.” 

You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you looked up at him, “No no, it’s okay Jake. It definitely shocked me when you called me that earlier, but it’s… nice.”

He smiled back at you and sat down, “I’ll call you whatever you want, Darlin’.” 

A giggle slipped past your lips and you were now thankful that the poor lighting hid the blush on your cheeks as you tested more keys.

You took a breath and readied your fingers on the right keys, “Okay okay, let’s get these people fired up.”

Jake arched his brow but then you played the opening notes to a song he heard non-stop in flight school when the class went out to a bar.

“Jerry Lee Lewis? You really are Bradshaw’s sister,” he laughed, gently nudging your shoulder but not so much as to mess you up.

You just rolled your eyes before jumping into the song. “~You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain!~”

Jake chuckled as people in the bar began to cheer, a few patrons jumping in to sing with you. He looked around, seeing that the flashlights on phones had been turned on and everyone’s moods seemed to flip on dime.

“~You broke my will! Oh what a thrill!~”

“~Goodness gracious great balls of fire!~”

His eyes landed back on you, watching you play the piano like he had only ever seen your brother play. It was lively, bringing an energy to the bar that got zapped out with the electricity. Almost as if the lightning hit you and you soaked up all the energy in the bar, and now you were returning it when it was needed.

He felt himself singing along, unable to escape the way that your infectious voice seemed to latch on to everyone that heard it. 

Jake had always fought the urge to ‘feel the music’ when it was your brother. Be the one person in the bar unaffected by him. But here with you, he didn’t fight. He didn’t want to fight it. And he was unashamed to be sitting next to you on that piano bench, singing a song that you were sure your brother had played to death. 

He saw you smile at him when you noticed it, feeding off of his energy just as much as he was feeding off of yours.

You found yourself looking only at him to see if he was enjoying himself, using him as a reference point for how the rest of the bar was feeling. That your attempt at entertainment was working.

It felt good to see everyone having fun because of you.

Now you could understand why your dad and Bradley did this so often.

Your smile never left your face as you continued to sing, though you hated how the song was coming to an end so soon.

Jake met your eyes as you started the last verse, his smiling matching yours. 

“~I chew my nails and I twiddle my thumbs!~”

“~Real nervous but it sure is fun!~”

He watched your eyes light up as he sang the words back to you and the blush crawled up your neck. You clearly weren’t expecting him to sing that line to you – telling you how you made him feel through the song.

So, he continued to look at you, holding eye contact as he sang through a wide, infectious smile, using the lyrics to convey what he had trouble putting into words once again. 

“~Come on, baby! You’re drivin’ me crazy!~”

His heart fluttered when you seemed like you were at a loss for words, despite them already being written for you – all you could do was smile as your muscle memory continued to play.

“~Goodness, gracious! Great balls of fire!~”

You played the last string of notes, your face dangerously close to Jake’s as the soft glow of the lanterns and phone flashlights illuminated his features almost angelically, the lights creating a halo around him and blurring the crowd like a camera focusing in on the subject of its image. His green eyes, though casted in a shadow, twinkled softly as he looked your face over like you were the only thing in the room – and to him, you were.

He was seeing the same thing. The blues of LEDs and the yellow of the lanterns created a harsh but gorgeous contrast on your face as your chest heaved when you attempted to catch your breath and the light sheen of sweat made your skin shine in a way he never thought about before. Your eyes were illuminated, but they held a shine of their own when you looked him over.

The cheers behind him all melded into one sound, one that Jake could confuse for his own heartbeat if it wasn’t pounding against his ribcage.

There was no hesitation this time as he pulled you close by the nape of your neck and pressed his lips to yours with breathless passion.

Your outside hand fisted in his Henley shirt, the fabric warm but a little rough under your fingertips. His heart was thumping rhythmically against your knuckles, giving the butterflies in your stomach a beat to dance to.

His hand moved down to the side of your neck, his thumb finding your pulse point. The sensation of your heartbeat under his fingertips was mesmerizing.

The kiss felt both like an eternity and not long enough when you finally pulled away, both of your lips damp and as your breath mixed as your foreheads rested against each other.

Around you, the crowd was still buzzing with energy, talking to each other as they started mingling again. 

But you and Jake couldn’t hear them, not when you're so consumed with one another right there on the piano bench. You were in your own little world, a small sanctuary in the middle of the bar. Just you and him.

Smiling, you can’t stop the giggle from escaping as you try to smooth out where you had gripped his shirt. “That was um…”

���Electrifying?” Jake offered, his dimple appearing as he smirked playfully.

“That’s one way to put it, yeah,”  you said with a light, slightly breathless laugh.

He chuckled and opened his mouth to say something else, but the overhead lights flickered for a split second before they stayed steady and the sound of the jukebox started up again.

You both sat up straight, looking around the bar as the patrons started back up in their games they abandoned.

“Would you look at that – one song and you managed to light up the whole bar, literally,” Jake said as he looked from his surroundings and then back to you, taking in how you smiled at everyone having fun again.

You hummed, turning your head with a playful glint in your eye, “Well, thank goodness it was only one song. I don’t know if I could’ve played another one. Unless Twinkle Twinkle Little Star counts.” 

Jake laughed as he stood up, offering you a hand to pull you to your feet. “Well, if Nick was here, I’m pretty sure he would have a blast if you played that.” 

“Oh, yeah, he definitely would,” you said with a laugh as you pushed some hair out of your face. “Another drink?”

He nodded, fluffing his shirt a little. “I can go for another.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bar, “Penny!”

After you got your drinks, you and Jake went to a booth by the windows.

“That was really impressive, Y/N. I knew Rooster was good, but he’s not that good,” Jake complimented as he sipped his fresh beer. The bitter liquid soothed his throat, his voice a little raw after singing.

You shrugged and sipped your Amaretto, the warm liquid warming you up from the chill of the rain outside. “I don’t know about that. He’s been playing since he was little. I started getting into piano in, like, middle school. And then in college I um.. I picked up a little guitar.”

Jake watched you bite your lip, your nails tapping against the glass of your drink. He wasn’t entirely sure what caused that far off look to appear in your eyes, a fogginess he wasn’t familiar with. But one thing he did recognize was that flicker of love, a shine of longing and admiration peaking through the fog – like a lighthouse on the shore.

He didn’t know much about Kendall, just what you had told him. He knew that you had met in college, you had been friends before you began dating, and that Kendall played the guitar – his favorite one tucked into the corner of Nick’s bedroom.

You cleared your throat, blinking the fogginess away and pulling Jake out of his thoughts. 

You rubbed your hands on your jeans before resting your elbows on the table to talk with your hands, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

“But like I was saying, Brad and I are very different when it comes to singing and playing the piano. He definitely channels our dad a little more than I do.”

He chuckled and leaned forward, resting his upper body on his forearms, “Well, I think I’m a little biased when it comes to that. But don’t sell yourself short, Darlin’, you put on quite the performance.” He added an unnecessary wink, but it didn’t stop you from smiling and looking at the table to hide your blush.

You lifted your head and smiled at him, sniffling just a little. “Thank you, Jake. That means a lot.”

Jake reached over and squeezed your hand, “Anytime.” He cleared his throat, “If you don’t mind me asking, that song clearly means a lot to you and Rooster, why-why is that?”

Tears stung your eyes a bit, again, but your smile didn’t falter. “Our dad, he um… he played it all the time. And I mean all the time. I’m surprised our mother stayed sane.” Jake reached up and wiped a tear that slipped through. You leaned into his warm palm slightly, as you continued.

“One of our last memories with him was sitting at the piano as he sang that song. Our mom in his lap singing with him without a care in the world about who was watching…” Your voice was a little heavier as you neared the end of your sentence, the memory making you a little emotional.

He smiled and squeezed your hand again, his thumb rubbing your knuckles, “That’s beautiful.” You gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand back. 

“Can I show you something?” He asked softly, not wanting to disturb the moment too much.

You nodded and sat up a little straighter, wiping your eyes as you spoke, “Of course.” 

Jake nodded his head towards the window and your eyes followed the direction. 

The glass was a little foggy, sweating as the cold temperature of the rain was meeting the warm air of the bar and the glass acting like a mediator between the two.

Your brow furrowed in immediate confusion though you weren’t going to question Jake just yet. There was certainly much more to it.

And he proved your suspicions by bringing his finger up to draw in the condensation.

It was a quick drawing, a simple sun with a smiley face and a little heart next to it. But the look on Jake’s face told you it was so much more than just a little doodle on a window.

“That’s really cute Jake,” you said softly, as you smile at him.

His grin widened and he shifted in his seat. “When I was little, I was never good with storms. My sister was even worse. She was scared and I was upset because I couldn’t go play in the rain.” 

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up when he said that, the picture of a young Jake pouting in his room as he watched the rain out of his window in your head – he definitely picked out two droplets to race against each other, maybe even him and his sister picked one and had a competition.

He just smiled at you before continuing.

“My grandma and my mom had this routine with us where they would have us by the bay window in the living room and we would draw in the condensation. And I, of course, rubbed my wet hand on my sister’s face,” he said with a small chuckle.

“That I’m definitely not surprised by. Bradley pestered me too, still does, it’s a brother thing.”

Jake nodded, “Oh yeah, for sure. But aside from that, there was a purpose to why my mom and grandma had us do this. Because as you can see now-” He pointed to the drawing, seeing that it was already dripping and disappearing, more condensation taking its place. “-it’s already going away.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. You still weren’t exactly sure where Jake was going, but it was clear this was something he held onto and cherished. Especially for him to bring it up now, years later. Plus, he had you roped in now, you were invested in this little smiling sun. 

“The whole point of drawing in the fog was because it doesn’t last forever, and neither would the storm outside. Or any storm, really. As I got older, we stopped the window drawings, but my mom kept it up with us for little things. Like when my sister was going through a break up, she drew a sun with a little heart on a note and put it in her backpack. I can bet you that she still has every note, because I know I do.”

Tears pricked your eyes a little bit, “That’s really really beautiful, Jake. Your mom and grandma sound like very wise women.”

Jake nodded, a proud smile pulling at his lips, “They are, I’m lucky to have them.”

You mirrored his smile and you both went back to conversing with each other, planning out ideas for your next ‘not’ date.

“There’s so much to do here, so much it’s like there’s nothing,” you said, laughing as you sipped your drink.

You had listed off a lot of places to go nearby and all the things you could do together, but it all sounded so fun that you were having trouble deciding.

Jake nodded, rubbing his face a little as he laughed, “Yeah, seems like it.” He glanced around, noticing a pool table nearby. “Hey, how about we think on it some more later and just play a game of pool?”

You hummed a little and glanced over your shoulder at the pool table. 

A sly smile came over your face as an idea popped into your mind. 

You turned back to face him, biting your lip a little, “I um… wow this is embarrassing, I haven’t really ever played pool before.”

Jake squinted at you, almost analyzing you to see if you were just fucking with him. But you just played it up by hiding your face in your hands, hiding the grin that you knew would give you away if he spotted it.

“You’re serious? You’ve never played pool before?”

His tone was inquisitive, but it also had a laugh behind it that he was hiding as best he could and it almost had you laughing.

“No no, I have played before. But it’s just been too long. Last time I played it was maybe 10 years ago when I was in high school, and I was awful.”

Jake’s laugh finally broke through at that.

“Hey! Don’t laugh!” You whined, holding back giggles of your own.

He nodded, trying to stop himself by clearing his throat. “You’re right, you’re right. It’s not funny. It’s… it’s kinda sad actually.”

You dropped your jaw and reached over the table to swat at his shoulder. “Oh shut up!” 

He chuckled as he dodged your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile as the corners of his eyes crinkled and his dimples poked through. “Okay okay, I’m sorry. But c'mon let’s play at least one game,” he proposed as he slid out of the booth and stood. He offered you his hand, a wink accompanying his next words, “And I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

You rolled your eyes and took his hand, “Fine, one game.”

A victorious grin crossed Jake’s face as he pulled you to your feet, squeezing your hand as he turned and pulled you to the table. Your lips pulled up in a similar fashion as you stumbled a little when he drug you behind him. 

“Okay,” he said as he came to stop at the pool table. “I don’t have to explain the rules, do I?” His brow arched with his question, only using it to further his teasing. You rolled your eyes, hand going on your hip, “No, I know that much, Seresin.” The sass in your tone made Jake laugh, “Alright, Bradshaw, let’s play.”

You nodded and grabbed the two pool cues, “Let’s.”

He chuckled and shook his head playfully as he quickly racked the pool balls. Once they were all in order, he took the triangle off and tossed it on a table as he walked over to you.

His fingers wrapped around the taller cue, his warm hand encapsulating yours. 

How had you not realized how large his hand was until now?

“Y/N?”

You shook your head, not having realized that you froze, “Oh um, sorry, sorry.”  You let go of the pool cue, clearing your throat as you pushed some hair behind your ear. He chuckled at your sudden shyness, “It’s alright, darlin’. It’s cute when you get all blushy.” You huffed, though a smile pulled at your lips as you shoved his shoulder. 

Jake laughed and held his hands up in defense, only slightly jostled by your shove. He gestured to the table and grabbed the cue ball, “Okay, okay, you wanna break?” He punctuated his question by putting the ball on the table with a *clack*.

You bit your lip, still feigning nervousness as best you could. You nodded and walked around to the end of the table beside him. 

Tossing the cue up and catching it lower, you leaned over and nearly fell into muscle memory – letting the end come down and rest easy in the dip between your thumb and pointer finger.

You rolled your shoulders a little bit, moving your hand much lower on the stick so you would have less control of the cue. You relaxed your shoulders, letting them drop as your right hand tightened its grip. The maple cue rested on the walnut of the table, using it as the support for the middle of the stick. 

Jake tilted his head, taking in your posture. It was… unconventional, and maybe a little awkward. But he wasn’t going to step in just yet, because maybe that stance just worked for you. And the look of concentration on your face was just too cute for him to interrupt.

Much like earlier at the dart board, your brow furrowed and your tongue poked out from between your lips. Jake grinned at the sight, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Nick made the same face when he focused on something. Like if his nose crinkled like yours did when he colored or if he stuck his tongue out when he did a puzzle. 

Then his mind wandered a little further. 

The image of a little girl appeared in his head, basically a clone of you in your lap as you sat at the piano. You guiding her hand along the keys, then having her repeat the order on her own. Her tongue sticking out as she tries to remember. 

But before he can fantasize any longer, he shakes himself out of it once you take your shot.

He watched the tip of the cue whiff the ball as the butt nearly became perpendicular to the floor. “Woah there!” 

You covered your mouth with your hand, doing your best to feign embarrassment at your ‘failure’. “Oh.. my.. gosh.. I can’t believe that just happened,” you snorted, laughing at yourself as you looked up at the ceiling, hoping that a blush was covering your cheeks to really sell it. 

Jake came over to stand next to you, chuckling just a little. “So um… is that how you held it in high school?” He leaned against the table, the cue snug against his side as he crossed his arms, looking down at his boots as he crossed his ankles before looking up at your profile.

You swallowed as you kept your eyes on the ceiling, and Jake couldn’t help but watch the column of your throat move with the action. 

Sighing, you looked at him, “I mean, kinda, like I said, it’s been awhile. But that felt so wrong.” You looked away from him and focused on your cue. “And now I’m embarrassed… because you just saw that.” 

He sighed gently, a smile pulling at his lips. While you were embarrassed, he couldn’t help but admire the blush on your skin. He didn’t like the reason, because you shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you looked cute.

He reached out and turned your head to face him, smiling softly at you. “Hey, you don’t have to be embarrassed. It happens, and I guarantee that is not the worst shot I’ve seen.” 

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

He sighed and propped his cue against the wall, “C’mere.” He adjusted the cue ball again and gently pulled you to him when you hesitated to move closer. “I don’t bite, unless you ask,” he whispered the last half of that in your ear, his accent slightly thicker as you felt his lips curl into a smile against the lobe of your ear.

His warm breath raised goosebumps on the skin of your neck, a shiver going down the nerves of your spine. He chuckled, his chest rumbling against your shoulder and making you giggle as a genuine flush covered your face and neck.

“Okay,” Jake said, turning you gently so your back settled against his chest. His hand rested on your hip and everything just felt right. Both of you slotted together like a puzzle piece, it was comfortable.

He looked down at you, “Am I too close?” 

Your head shook almost embarrassingly quickly. If anything he wasn’t close enough.

“No no, you’re okay.”

He nodded, smiling at you, “Alright, just let me know, okay?” You swallowed, nodding back, “I will.”

“Alright, now, I’m gonna show you how to properly hold a pool stick. Do what you were doing before.”

You nodded, bending back over and mimicking the stance you had done previously.

Jake looked at you gaging what to adjust. “Okay, so one issue is, your back hand is too low. Don’t shake hands with the bumper.” He took your wrist and tried to slide your hand up but it barely moved. “And you don’t need a death grip on it, it’s not going anywhere unless you move it.” You nodded and relaxed your grip to let him adjust your hand placement. 

He moved it to about the middle of the weight and watched your guiding hand adjust itself to a bit more of a natural position.

Smiling, he glanced down at you, “There we go, how does that feel?” You nodded, “A lot better, definitely more comfortable.”

“Perfect, and that’s how you know you’re doing it right. Before you were uncomfortable and it threw off your control. You guide the cue, it doesn’t guide you.”

You snorted a little, hanging your head as you laughed, “You sound like a therapist, or a yoga instructor.” Jake laughed along with you, “Unfortunately I’m neither of those. Not qualified nor flexible enough.”

You arched a brow and looked at him over your shoulder, a cheeky smile on your lips, “Not flexible enough? Oh, that’s a shame.” His eyebrows raised, almost as if he was sizing up a challenge, “Oh is it now? I mean, I’m sure with enough stretching, I’ll be good to go.”

You laughed before shaking your head, “Okay okay, let’s stay on task, Lieutenant, yeah?”

“Right, right, of course.” 

Jake cleared his throat as his fingers wrapped around your shoulders, “Okay, being relaxed is fine. But you’re too loose and that makes it awkward.” He slowly pulled them out from their slouched position, straightening your back a little in the process. “That’s better.” 

You swallowed a little, the heat of his chest against your back making you both nervous and excited.

“Do you feel more in control?” You nodded at his question, not trusting your voice to be steady. “Good, now, let’s test this.”

Worry shot through you for a moment, afraid he might step back and let you do this on your own – squashing the mini fantasy that you created.

But your worry was smothered when Jake adjusted his own stance, his knees nudging the backs of your thighs. His right hand encased your own as his left hand acted as a stand for yours – keeping your guiding hand steady.

“Loosen your grip, Duckie. It’s not gonna change your power. In pool, the speed determines the power.”

Jake’s voice was steady, but it was raspy as he spoke in your ear again. His breath fanned along your ear lobe and your jaw, raising goosebumps once again.

He felt your wrist and hand relax a little, and he just hoped you couldn’t feel his heart beating against your back. 

“Alright, there we go. Now, all you gotta do is bring it back and–”

His sentence fell short as the felt tip collided with the cue ball and he felt a vibrating sensation against his hip.

“See? So much better. And now, if that’s your phone in your pocket, I think you’re getting a call.”

He stepped back and let you stand straight as you pulled your phone out.

Your heart dropped slightly when you saw Serenity’s contact flash across your screen. 

Did something happen to Nick? Was he okay? Did something happen to the house? What went wrong?

Jake must have noticed that your face changed on dime, because his face fell into one of concern. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” 

Was it Serenity? Was it Bradley? Was it a chaplain? Or hell an NCIS agent?

“It’s Serenity,” you said as you pressed the green answer button and brought the phone to your ear. “Hey Ren, what’s up?”

Jake sighed in relief, his worst thoughts going off to the wayside in favor of just worried thoughts.

You brought your hand up, chewing on the edges of your nails as she spoke.

“Hey, Y/N, everything’s okay–”

Jake watched your body visibly relax, your hand rubbing at your mouth much like he’d seen Bradley do when he was stressed.

“Nicky’s okay? Nothing’s on fire?” 

“No, nothing’s on fire. But Nicky is not wanting to go to bed without you here. I think it's the rain, the storm I should say. He doesn’t want to go to his room. Won’t even get up off the couch.”

You sighed but nodded, “Okay, I’ll be there in a little bit. Get his turtle and his manta ray, then get my body spray and lightly spritz a blanket and let him curl up on the couch until I get there.”

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I know you wanted to have a fun night out… I just didn’t know what to do.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m glad you called. I’ll be home in a little bit.” 

You hung up and looked at Jake, “I’m so sorry, Jake. Nicky is–”

He held his hand up, “Nope, no apologies, go be with your baby. We can meet up later. Tell Nicky I said ‘hi’.”

Your heart skipped a few beats as you smiled at him. He smiled back and nodded towards the front door, “Now go Mother Goose, you got a duckling waiting on you.” 

The look in his eyes was nothing short of fond, the yellow overhead lighting making his eyes a comforting shade of green. 

He wasn’t upset at all, no disdain for your sudden departure on his features. Was he disappointed? Yeah, but you were always going to be a mother first. He couldn’t and would never get in the way of that, or try to change it.

You hugged him, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist in reciprocation. 

“Thank you,” you kissed his cheek in thanks as you pulled away from the hug. “You don’t have to thank me, Darlin’. Just text me or call me when you get home safe, okay?” He said with a smile, gently squeezing your shoulders.

You nodded, matching his smile, “Of course, as long as you do the same?” He winked, “You got it.” 

He grabbed your purse for you, “Drive safe, Sweetheart.” You nodded, “I will. Bye Jake.” “Bye Y/N.”

You smiled at him again before going over to the bar, patting the top with the palm of your hand. You opened your mouth to get Penny’s attention but she was already smiling at you. “Heading out?” Your head tilted as you nodded, “Yeah, how’d you know?” She shrugged, nodding down to the bag hanging off your shoulder, “Lucky guess.” 

Chuckling, you pulled your wallet out, “Nicky won’t go to bed, the storm is keeping him up.” You pulled out a fifty, “For my drinks and Jake’s, the rest is your tip.” Penny shook her head, pushing the money back towards you, “That’s way too much, Duckie. 25 is plenty. Plus, Jake’s tab is open and your drinks are on it.” 

“Penny Benjamin–”

“Y/N Bradshaw, don’t argue and go home to your son,” Penny pointed to the door to punctuate her order, the damp towel swaying slightly from her movement.

Huffing out a ‘fine’, you put the fifty away and put a ten on the bar, “I’m still tipping you, because I love you. Not as much as you deserve, but you’re gonna fight me on it.” She smiled gratefully at you, taking the bill, “Thank you, now go home. Text me when you get there.” 

You patted the bar again, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you later, don’t let Jake get too drunk.” 

With that you walked to the door, though Penny stopped you with a shout. 

“That was an Oscar worthy performance by the way!” 

You rolled your eyes, waving to her as you slipped your jacket on, “Bye Penny!”

phew!

that was a long one huh? but hey, we finally got a kiss! they kissed!! and before hand we got a little peak into duckie's insecurities as a mom. though we can all agree she's pretty great right?

i hope you guys liked this chapter and are ready to see where the next chapter takes duckie, nicky, and jake!

hi darlings i know it's been a long time, too long, but like i said before -- i wanted to make sure this was a chapter i was proud of and lately my creative battery just wouldn't behave and it's been hard to write and like what i write. but i think... i think i did it here.

my ducklings <33:

@roosterscockpit @milesdickpic @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hisredheadedgoddess28 @malindacath @avengers-fixation @shawnsblue @caitsymichelle13 @classycolorpeach @mamachasesmayhem @bobby-r2d2-floyd @twsssmlmaa

@horseshoegirl @startrekfangirl2233 @babyreads​ @amatswimming @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @hangmansgbaby​ @callsignwidow @kmc1989​ @goodstuff28​ @pjngpp3501​ @lunamoonbby​ @joyfulpandamiracle​ @craftyinfluencersandwich @averyhotchner​ @emily-roberts​ @teenwolf01 @sunderland-6​ @bethabear12

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[gartenofbanny]

Overture is the first official episode for Hazbin Hotel, and after nearly four years of waiting, somehow, this episode is very bad. I'm not going to provide a summary of the episode but instead I'm going to provide what I liked and what I didn't like. So let's get started.

Positives

The animation for this episode is pretty good. While it isn't really as smooth as Helluva's and has some noticeable errors, it's still well animated for the most part.

Adam's part if the song is honestly a fucking bop and thankfully the genre is different from most Helluva songs.

Lute is my favorite character in this episode. She's a cold, stern Exorcist who hates demons. I have no clue why she isn't the leader, but Adam is considering how seriously she takes being an Exorcist and how professional she is for the most part.

This little bit with Niffty having stage fright is pretty funny.

And that's it for the positives now onto the negatives.

Negatives

One of the things I really hate about this episode is that it reveals WAY too much so early on. In this episode, it's revealed that Adam and the other Exorcists like killing Demons essentially doing it for sport, rendering Charlie's redemption useless, Exorcists are able to fucking die, and Adam has moved his schedule from another year to 6 months for the next Cleanse.

I honestly expected the first episode to show Charlie trying to redeem demons, a twist like that would've worked if it was like halfway through the season.

This episode, for some reason, has two plotlines when it would've been better if it just stuck with Charlie meeting the Exorcist one. We spent some minutes of this episode with Vaggie trying to make a TV commercial for the Hotel, however we never get to see the commercial itself, so what was the point?

Secondly, why would Vaggie and Charlie ask Alastor to make a television commercial for them? His entire thing is radios. It's like having a powerlifter do a track video. They're both completely different skill sets with their own benefits.

Also, if Alastor really does hate televisions THAT much, then why was he entertained when Katie and Charlie fought in the pilot by watching Televison?

I'm honestly unsure whether or not the pilot for Hazbin Hotel is canon. Adam states that it has been a week since the cleanse, Vaggie states that they recruited Alastor for the hotel last week, and the pilot takes place some time after the Cleanse. While the Helluva Boss pilot isn't canon anymore, it's up in the air whether or not the Hazbin Pilot is.

This fucking cat is still confusing. It literally just appeared in this episode with no explanation of how it was made or came to be or what it even does.

Adam, as a character, is one of the most irritating I've ever seen. He embodies those "If this was written by Vivziepop" memes, his singing voice is top notch, but as a character, he doesn't act any different from the demons he's supposed to kill. So it makes me question what's even the difference between Angels and Demons.

Last but not least, Adam says that there won't be a Demon left alive to kill another Exorcist.

And right off the bat does Adam know that killing every Demon in Hell is literally impossible? As long as humans die, Sinners are going to keep existing. Unless if Heaven decides to make everyone into angels, which is highly unlikely. And Lute says herself that Charlie and her family are exempt from the yearly cleansing, so they're not truly getting rid of every possible threat in Hell.

Overall, I'd give this episode a 5/10. It's a very rough start, especially since Vivziepop and her writers had nearly 4 years to write this out, but it's just very messy.

[y-rhywbeth2]

Lore: Baldur's Gate #3

The Law and Legal System

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. There's a lot of lore; I don't know everything. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

The City #1 | Demographics | Law & Legal System | Administration & Government | ??? - WIP

There is a surprising amount of information on laws, and also on the legal system and law enforcement of Baldur's Gate. ...And it's fucking terrible! This is so long because there's so. Much. Terrible.

OK, let's see... corruption, corruption, corruption... • 9/10 crimes never go to trial: the police are your judge, jury and executioners. You do have rights; let's hope they care. • The four classifications of crimes. (Nobles get away with so much. Also, frankly, the clergy.) • The Flaming Fist - the police, the military and the secret police in one nifty corrupt package. • Courts of Law and Magistrates • Alternate courses of justice: The Crews. Also, have you considered praying for your tormentor's horrible death? No, seriously. • The Code Legal: the actual laws, the crimes and their punishments • How the temples might self-police and how a recap on how the law gets... flexible with evil-aligned faiths.

Arrests and Processing Crimes

Baldur's Gate, like most of the Western Heartlands (and frankly, a lot of Faerûn beyond that), follows the precedent set by the Warerdhavian Code Legal in setting its laws. Local variations may occur, but they're near enough the same.

The Code lays down the crimes, which are matched to whatever punishment the law of the land has deemed appropriate.

For the most part, where the Gate is concerned, this usually leads to "cut and dry" cases. The crime and accused will be assessed by a member of the Flaming Fist (or the Watch, if it's in the upper city) who will make their own judgement as to guilt and follow out the punishment as laid down in the Code.

Crimes only go to court in one of two conditions, firstly that the officer assessing the crime doesn't feel that the situation is clear enough for them to make a judgement - and secondly, when high ranking members of society (Patriars, clergy, etc) for whatever reason want to step in and have it taken to court.

The majority of crimes will never see court. "Flaming Fist patrols react to threats with indiscriminate violence," and even those that don't often turn a blind eye.

Once upon a time, like a century ago, Baldur's Gate was known for being a well policed place with a low crime rate and very little corruption. That's... very much not the case any longer. An influx of refugees from the Spellplage and rapid population growth in the back half of the 14th century saw the end of that as the Upper City started closing in on itself and the Outer City was formed, creating a large population outside of jurisdiction. The murder rates are so bad out there that there are whole alleys where people dump bodies called 'snuff streets.'

The extremes seen in the 15th century are a reaction to the increase in the intrigues of the Upper City and the crime rate of the more recent Outer City both spreading into the Lower City. Now the average citizen contends with both of those and police brutality every day. Even prior to the foundation of the Outer City, policing was heavy due to the strength and spread of the Thieves Guid.

There is something of a 75% chance that arrests will not follow protocol: those members of the Fist not inclined to police brutality and starting "bidding wars" (whoever can offer the highest bribe is let go: everyone else gets arrested) are often too overwhelmed with a myriad of other crimes they're trying to handle. The Watch is less inclined to violence and corruption (at least, in comparison), but they're also the Upper City's personal guard and prone to discriminate heavily against the poor (or those who look it) in their arrests.

Due to the upper classes being notoriously self-interested and corrupt, and judges often being in the pocket of the Thieves Guild, there is also little trust in any justice coming from there. Ulder Ravengard certainly doesn't have any. Ulder has been commander since 1482 DR, and held high rank and influence before that. He is "the incarnation of militarism", and his stance when directing the Fist has been of the "the ends justify the means" variety. There is a chance that in 1482, due to Bhaal - at the time too weak to directly influence people - subconsciously urging him to give into his dictatorship leanings and "murderous intentions", that Ulder also led the Fist into an even darker place involving military law and a lot of mutilation and murder, but I'm uncertain how much of that is part of mainstream canon.

Often, if the accused is a noble or a high ranking member of the clergy and the crime is not "serious", they will be let go - perhaps with a slap on the wrist. These groups also tend to police their own behind closed doors to avoid public backlash and scandals.

"Nobles enjoy many protections under the law and in some cases can escape punishment for assault, provocation, or the outright murder of a commoner."

Generally though, they'll avoid such obvious and crude crimes. A lot of noble crimes and schemes involve hiring adventurers - outsiders with no connection to the city or protection under the law - to do their dirty work. More serious crimes will either never see the light of day, or if it can't be hidden, scapegoating and appeasement will follow.

Crimes are only crimes within the confines of the land in question. A crime in Baldur's Gate is not a crime outside its walls, and if a crime without those walls is committed then the legal system of the Gate has no jurisdiction with which to arrest of punish the offender. As such clergy and nobles who must be punished may well receive temporary exile, where they will be appointed to a different temple/sent to live with relatives somewhere else in the realms.

Crimes are also not necessarily crimes if the victim in question is not a citizen (generally classified as never having had their name on official city documentation or owned property within the city).

Technically visitors and foreign agents to the city should have licenses marking them as such and stating that their presence in the city is legal. Without these permits their lives are forfeit to the whims of the "important people". Technically new arrivals should be told by officials stationed at the city gates to report to the High Hall to be interviewed (in case the individual means harm to the city) and then handed their license, but your average visitor is never even told of this law.

"Outer City residents are classified as "visiting economic interests," which affords them some rights. However, with a word from a duke of a peer, that classification could change to "visiting diplomat," which offers numerous perks, or "invader," which is essentially a death sentence." - Murder in Baldur's Gate

Baldur's Gate will nevertheless strive not to be an obviously oppressive hellhole however, as trade cities wish to show a welcoming and tolerant face to the world: merchants will not come if they feel they will be risking their safety. In fact visiting merchants, particularly wealthy ones, are liable to receive somewhat better treatment than the average permanent citizen of the Gate.

Covert corruption is favoured:

"Any rigging of results must be done behind the scenes rather than in public. For instance, you could avoid someone’s being brought to trial, or arrange a prisoner escape."

Offenses are split into four categories:

1) Crimes Against the Lords The name may be subject to change, depending on region and governance; it's likely slightly different in Baldur's Gate. This is essentially crimes against the state officials and nobility.

2) Crimes Against the City Arson, littering, public brawling, carrying weapons in public, etc.

3) Crimes Against the Gods Blasphemy against the gods and their servants (who are their own, outside the box tier of nobles, in a way)

4) Crimes Against Citizens "Low level" offenses that don't threaten to upset anybody important or disrupt the city functioning.

Different realms and city states will also have their own unique laws, for example it's illegal in Baldur's Gate to disobey an order from an officer of the Fist if they're in uniform under threat of martial discipline (loss of an ear, a hand, their tongue, or even their life). While theoretically, this law exists for emergencies, it is very much abused for personal gain.

As said, generally the handling of crimes won't progress past the jurisdiction of the Flaming Fist - who hold many roles: mercenary company, city military, city police, "secret police" (spymaster is a position within the organisation and plainclothes officers are everywhere)... and generally, studying the pattern, it seems that one of the Grand Dukes on the Council of Four is going to be their commander.

Generally, candidates seeking to join the Fist are screened for "strong loyalty and stronger morals." Not sure that's working.

There are usually a few rules regarding investigations amongst Faerûnian law enforcement which should be followed (and watched closely public scrutiny to ensure it is):

• Confiscated items may not be kept. When searching a location, nothing except evidence is to be confiscated. • Items must be returned to their owners, if identified. • Citizens must be kept informed of the whys and hows of an investigation: when you disrupt daily life, somebody must be on hand to answer their questions and explain - leaving out no detail - what is happening and why. "Authorities have very few justifiable grounds for not telling citizens anything they ask about (though “the king’s will” [government business, for which Baldurians would use a different term] is a justifiable ground)." • Magic and magical items involved in the crime must be examined, and typically dispelled, and citizens must be told "the whole truth about what magic was found, where it came from, and what it was intended for" • Disputes over property must be handled in public.

By the 15th century, the organisation has been noted to have become insanely corrupt. Should the Flaming Fist lapse into illegal behaviours like vigilantism, kangaroo courts and police brutality (including cutting out people's tongues and hanging them in their own doorways), the government will generally do nothing to intervene, as long as it doesn't start to affect the patriars (who make up said government). If the commander - or acting commander - happens to be corrupt then the whole organisation generally goes downhill.

If Orin and the Dark Urge have been doing their jobs right, then the ranks of the Fist will have been infiltrated by Bhaalists to serve the interests of the church within the city and its laws.

---

Legal Courts

Should a case proceed to the courts it will be taken before one of the dukes, presided over in the courts at the High Hall. There was an attempted (and failed) coup by Grand Duke Valarken a few decades back to seize control of the city saw the patriars succeed in a naked power grab and the establishment of the Parliament of Peers, a governing body composed of mostly patriars and a smattering of Guildmasters and the other wealthy, who can buy and network/kiss enough patriar asses to elbow their way into power.

The dukes have since been able to delegate cases to one of the peers, who will serve as magistrate in their place. This worked out pretty well at first, and then went downhill:

"Proxy judges are not paid a salary, yet a temporary assignment to the High Hall's bench is a plum duty for any patriar, because hefty gifts and bribes flow to the judges from the [Thieves] Guid, from those grateful to be exonerated, and from those hoping to be exonerated."

For patriars who were called upon to handle a case the High Hall has several small libraries containing legal books, civic documentation (tax, property, censuses, etc etc), past court records and other relevant information to aid them with their duty. The libraries are also a disorganised mess, and volunteers from the local Oghmanyte clergy (followers of the god of knowledge, which technically includes legal lore) have their hands full trying to organise it and seem to be the only people who know how to find anything in there.

I have no information on how the court worked prior to the formation of the Peers in the 15th century, but if the Council of Four delegated back then then they most likely still picked from amongst the same people - the wealthy, mostly patriar, citizens of the Upper City who would be in their social and business circles enough for them to know each other.

If the accused desires legal defence, they have a few options.

In order for a legal representative to be considered valid, the court must be informed of your choice ahead of the court date. Sometimes it's only permitted to people who would struggle to represent themselves due to disability or language barriers (Common is not useful for daily conversation, let alone complex legal proceedings).

Baldur's Gate, unusually, has a few rare official barristers one may hire to represent one in court. These are generally far out of the pay range of the average citizen.

"The Realms does not have lawyers, robed and wigged or otherwise. There are some “advocates,” paid orators who will speak in court (always in the presence of an accused, not appearing in their stead) and who might know something of the law and can give advice to an accused. Some advocates are real performers who mimic the voices of people, act out scenes, tell jokes, and engage in furious debate in court—which, being great entertainment, is seldom cut short even by angry judges or rulers, because the commoners like it." - Elminster's Forgotten Realms

Tyrran clergy are also willing to defend the innocent and ensure that trials are fair and free of corruption, and the two groups are likely to overlap:

"In civilised areas (settlements), Tyrrans (inevitably called "tyrants" behind their back by nonbelievers) become legal experts and serve as the lawyers of Faerûn by dispensing advice and "speaking for" accused persons in trials." - Faiths and Avatars

(They still tend to charge for the service, although some will likely go pro bono as Tyrrans are also meant to be devoted to righting wrongs and ensuring the law serves the good of the people) Tyrrans are not a major faith in Baldur's Gate and don't wield a lot of influence, however - and to make matters worse, Tyr has been dead for a generation, and while the god returned in the Second Sundering, his clergy are still in recovery.

Magistrates may have the right to call upon divination spells - cast by mages or clergy - to root out the truth, although the wealthy and the nobility often have privileges and rights regarding this that are unavailable to the common class.

- Alternative Justice

As the citizens do not trust their legal system an inch, the common people band together in informal groups called "crews" for mutual protection. How they function depends on the crew (guarding each other's property, self-policing a shared street or neighbourhood, pooling funds, simply backing you up if you get mugged, etc)

The Gate has an unofficial system called burl, if you're fleeing persecution, be it from criminals or the Fist, and knock on a door three times the people inside owe you shelter and safety, no questions asked.

Another alternate route of justice exists - turning to the gods.

Tyrrans seek out criminals who escaped their sentence and slipped through the cracks - if you can't be brought to justice, they will bring it to you. They also work to change or protect laws for the betterment of people. Prior to the Spellplague Tyr's portfolio concerned the letter of the law, however during his death that passed to Torm (god of loyalty, and thus now loyalty to whatever my liege says is the law) and Tyr's focus is on benevolent readings of the spirit of the law. As said, they have been out of commission for around a generation, so Tyrran activity in the city will only have resumed with legal and divine backing for about a decade or two.

Ilmatari are permitted a tenday's worth of respite, where Ilmater temporarily releases from their vows - technically this is time meant for self-care and mental health, but Ilmatari have been known to use this freedom from their oath of non-violence to shank abusers and tyrants. They also engage in non-violent forms of protest and disruption against corruption and cruelty while under their oaths, and it's generally not a good idea to harm them because Ilmatari are very popular amongst the common people of Faerûn for their charity work.

There is a Helmite faction within the Gate - the Order of the Gauntlet - that covertly sponsors vigilantes. Their calling card is Helm's symbol, branded onto the flesh of either dead criminals or live ones left anonymously on the doorstep of the Flaming Fist.

And then there's Hoar; God of Vengeance; the Doombringer:

"Hoar charges his clergy to uphold true and fitting justice and to maintain the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law. Fitting recompense will always accrue for one's actions. Violence will meet violence and evil pay back evil, but good will also come to those who do good."

In Western Faerûn Hoar's clergy are not many and they do not build temples, but they wander the realms seeking victims of injustice. They listen to their stories, investigate to establish the veracity of their accounts, and if they're satisfied the person is being honest they will track down the perpetrator and deliver ironic punishments upon them. While they're considered criminals in the eyes of the law, to the common people of Faerûn hail them as champions of the underdog. On the darker side, Hoar and Bhaal are allies, and their followers share similar habits and a tendency to be retributive justice for hire. (Though Hoar is in it for vengeance, and Bhaal for the killings and bloodlust.)

Sharrans also present themselves as avengers in a world full of corrupt governments who don't care about you, and go out of their way to try and steal "jobs" from the Hoarites.

The temple of Bhaal will be sending priests up to the marketplaces and other gathering places - likely mostly in the Outer City, where it's impossible to break the city's laws - to listen to people's grievances and offer their services as killers. Bhaalists are also employable as freelance bounty hunters, and are obligated by their faith to train anybody who asks to fight and use weapons and are technically available as self-defence trainers (with an aim of "your opponent should not get back up"). They also usually select criminals for their sacrificial targets, and in private setting will turn these into public displays for the pleasure of the mob.

---

The Code Legal

There is no such thing as copyright law or libel and slander laws- unless they're offensive to clergy, rulers, nobility or whathaveyou. Authors on Toril are having great fun with the copyright thing, and often get ripped off by their publishers stealing their work. Also child labour is involved with the printing, but that's not the topic on hand.

When the punishment for a crime is arrest then the highborn, wealthy and influential will be placed under house arrest instead of spending their time in a jail cell.

-

Crimes Against the Lords A category that includes government officials, rulers, nobility, the extremely wealthy and influential, and generally high priests/temple leaders (are you going to blaspheme argue with somebody who speaks directly to a god? On Faerûn the answer is "no".)

Assaulting a Lord: death

Impersonating a Lord: death

Assaulting or impersonating an official or noble: flogging, imprisonment for up to a tenday, and a fine up to a max of 500gp depending on severity

Blackmailing an official: flogging and exile up to 10 years

Bribery or attempted bribery of an official: exile up to 20 years and a fine up to double the bribe amount.

Murder of a Lord, official or noble: death

Using magic to influence a Lord without consent: imprisonment up to a year, and fine or damages up to 1,000gp

While killing a commoner may be split into murder and justified self-defence, no such clause exists for killing a noble, which is always met with the death penalty.

"In many lands, common-born people are bound by law to defer to their betters, the lords and ladies of the nobility. Even if the law does not require deference, it’s usually a good idea." - Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting

For the Gate, the nobility are the patriars.

Merchants and powerful Guildmasters (the trade guild, not the Thieves Guid) may have the money and connections to worm their way into this special treatment.

"The wealthiest merchants are virtually indistinguishable from mighty lords, Even if born from peasant stock, a merchant whose enterprises span-a kingdom might style himself "lord" and get away with it." - Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting

While you might get away with styling yourself a lord, as Gortash does, the patriars nevertheless insist on maintaining boundaries between themselves and the new money. I believe they've also occasionally introduced fun additional little laws like who is not allowed to wear what (colours, fabrics) so as not to be confused with the wealthy merchants and lowborn of the city with their inferior breeding. True nobility is a matter of birthright, after all.

Still money opens a lot of doors, especially in a major trade hub like Baldur's Gate.

-

Crimes against the City

Arson: death or hard labour up to 1 year, with fines -and/or- damages covering the cost of repairs plus 2,000gp

Brandishing weapons without due cause: imprisonment up to a tenday -and/or- fine up to 10gp

Espionage: death -or- permanent exile

Fencing stolen goods: fine equal to the value of the stolen goods and edict

Forgery of an official document: flogging and exile for 10 summers (years)

Hampering justice: fine up to 200gp and hard labour up to a tenday

Littering: fine up to 2gp and an edict

Poisoning a city well: death

Theft: flogging, followed by imprisonment up to a tenday -or- hard labour up to a year -or- a fine equivalent to the value of the stolen good/s. Maiming, either through flogging or loss of limb. Baldur's Gate decided to edit this one for the extreme.

Treason: death

Vandalism: imprisonment up to a tenday plus fine - and/or - damages covering the cost of repairs plus up to 100gp

Using magic to influence an official without consent: fine -or -damages up to 1,000gp and edict

-

Crimes against Citizens

Assaulting a citizen: imprisonment up to a tenday, flogging and damages up to 1,000gp depending on severity

Blackmailing or intimidating a citizen: fine or damages up to 500gp and an edict (presumably in the form of a restraining order)

Burglary: imprisonment up to 3 months and damages equal to the value of the stolen goods plus 500gp

Damaging property or livestock: damages covering the cost of repairs or replacement plus up to 500gp

Disturbing the peace: fine up to 25gp and edict

Murdering a citizen without justification: death - or - hard labour up to 10 years, and damages up to 1,000gp paid to the victim's kin

Murdering a citizen with justification: exile up to 5 years -or- hard labour up to 3 years -or- damages up to 1,000gp paid to the victim's kin

Robbery: hard labour up to 1 month and damages equal to the value of the stolen goods plus 500gp

Slavery: flogging and hard labour up to 10 years

Using magic to influence a citizen without consent: fine -or- damages up to 1,000gp and an edict

-

Crimes Against the Gods

Assaulting a priest or lay worshipper: imprisonment up to a tenday and damages up to 500gp

Disorderly conduct within a temple: fine up to 5gp and edict

Public blasphemy against a god or church: edict

Theft of temple goods or offerings: imprisonment up to a tenday and damages up to double the cost of the stolen items

Tomb-robbing: imprisonment up to a tenday and damages covering the cost of repairs plus 500gp

"In a polytheistic setting such as this one, it’s important to stand back from any real-life religious views of “absolute good"". - Elminster's Forgotten Realms

"Baldur's Gate has widely adopted a "do no harm" policy when it comes to faiths and organizations operating in the city. Any group is welcome to operate openly so long as the city's important citizens aren't harmed [and as long as they don't disrupt trade]." - Descent into Avernus

"Important citizens" is an interesting distinction. Usually the rule is "so long as citizens - in general - aren't harmed".

A familiar refrain on this blog, which I have already talked about at length, but from a Torilian perspective: just because the god is evil and howling for the blood of the innocent doesn't make their priests criminals for providing it unless they get caught in the act or breach their "understanding" with the government. Evil or Good (or neither), the gods are holy, and to offend any is blasphemy. There are no gods whose worship is illegal in Baldur's Gate, so long as their clergy aren't stupid about it. (Sharrans usually prefer to go underground anyway, because they'd rather preach sedition and do crime than play nice, which will get them outlawed.)

Crimes against the clergy make people nervous, as it is attacking a god, in a way. Still, most crimes against priests fall under either crimes against citizens or crimes against the lords. Generally, high ranking priests are closer to the latter, and lower ranking to the former, though it does depend on the strength and influence of the temple and larger church in the city/region:

"The powerful temples of Faerûn's deities parallel the king's authority. The lowest-ranking acolytes and mendicants are rarely reckoned beneath the station of a well-off merchant, and any cleric or priest in charge of a temple holds power comparable to that of a baronet or lord. The high priests of a faith favoured in a particular land are equal to the highest nobility." - Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting

That said, the clergy are wise not to push their luck too far, as people will risk the wrath of a god if they feel the need to defend themselves, and the law will turn on the temple for disturbing the peace and disrupting trade.

The Gate has four active temples: Tymora, goddess of luck; Umberlee, goddess of the sea; Gond, god of artificers; and - of course - Bhaal, god of murder. The leading priests of each of these - the High; the Wavelord/Wavemistress; the Artificer or High Artificer; and the High Primate/Primistress and the Primate/Primistress - will generally be afforded the kind of treatment and leniency by the law that nobility may expect so as not to offend any gods (though this will not extend so much to the lower ranks of the faith), and of these, Gond's church wields the most power.

As the most recent addition to the four, still in recovery due to their deity being out of commission for a century, the Bhaalists wield the least political power and the existence of their temple is a rumour, however "[the faiths of the Dead Three] still command respect and fear throughout Baldur's Gate." and Bhaal's worship is 'darkly popular.' Also there's a rumour that some important political figure or other is a Bhaalspawn, and it might be the High Primate, but these have always been proven to be smear campaigns.

Beneath these are the other well established faiths, who have shrines (though no temple heads): Ilmater, Lathander, Oghma and Helm.

And then a smattering of every other god on Toril, presumably represented by anything from a handful of priests to one. Also the Banites, who have been doing a fantastic job of climbing the ranks. Couldn't be anything to do with the systemic corruption and tolerance of evil, nah.

Still, clergy will not necessarily bother to take offenders to task and often take offenses against their deity into their own hands. Churches and secular powers tend to have some friction between them, as the government feels that its rules should hold sway while priests consider themselves (and the government) to be beholden to the wills of a higher power that takes precedence over those mere mortals in the High Hall.

Punishments vary according to faith and offense, and may range from placing a quest (gaes) upon the offender, enslaving them to the church, to simply murdering them and discretely disposing of the body. That last one may involve ritual sacrifice unto the deity of the temple, if appropriate. When the offender escapes the temple, the priests may call for the aid of their rural siblings in faith to hunt them down - wandering paladins, the Deathstalkers, etc. Many clergy have some amount of priests that don't stay still.

Churches have their own law enforcement systems. Temple guards are commonly seen, and in larger temples will answer to a paladin. Temples are often home to animals - selected from the deity's holy animals - who serve as security and defence. Certain deities will also have undead bound to the temple's service.

When one of their own ranks is caught breaking a law (say, murder) the priests usually prefer to deal with it themselves. The most common result of getting caught rocking the boat is either for the church to excommunicate the priest, or else for that priest to suddenly, silently be removed from their post and reassigned by the church somewhere else outside of the jurisdiction of the realm with the promise to secular authorities that they will be disciplined, which is accepted. The latter happens "more often than the general public would be pleased to know".

Evil-aligned religions are also held to another set of rules, whose terms are negotiated between the rulers and the church, but generally go thusly:

1) The church owes fealty and service to the government when demanded (assassins, spymasters, mercenaries, whatever) 2) Activities like human sacrifice are to be kept to agreed upon limits: no more than necessary, and the targets must not be "innocents, citizens, or government representatives." - random vagrants and criminals are fine. 3) Clergy must not attempt to overthrow the ruling class, 4) Nor cause too much distress in the general public (people are resigned to the existence of evil and accept and worship the evil deities, but they should not be pushed to the point where daily life is disrupted.) 5) Shrines and temples must be kept out of public view. 6) Keep your identity as a priest and your identity as a citizen separate: the public must not be able to identify you - the Gate has slightly looser restrictions on this, it seems 7) No forced conversions.

[mal3vol3nt]

https://www.tumblr.com/longing-for-rain/755847912227028992/here-we-observe-the-aang-boymom-in-its-natural?source=share

Hi! I'm curious on your thoughts of this meta.

hi anon! so sorry for keeping you waiting with this response, i know it’s been months. unfortunately this probably isn’t gonna be the response you wanted to hear—me breaking down this zk brainrot rant and subverting their claims with canon content. please allow me to explain though (this is gonna be long sorry):

the reasons i’ve been slow to answer this ask and others that have sent me zk rants are:

since joining atla twitter (@arrsapphics if you’re cool) i’ve been exposed to a lot more zk coke-fueled rants and just do not have the energy to torture myself by willingly reading their shit

a lot of these zutara stans on tumblr are a lot more deranged and genuinely horrible people now that i’ve been exposed to the twitter zks. of course, zks are stupid and ship-obsessed on every platform and some of them (one in particular comes to mind—if you’re on twitter then you know) are genuinely just as bad, but i feel the ones on here have a special type of hatred considering they can tag their posts to ensure their hate stays within the echo chamber

CONTENT WARNING: RAP3

the second reason is the biggest part of why i will no longer entertain posts from longing-for-rain. i have recently found out via twitter that they write rape fanfiction of katara. being a chronically online shipper is one thing but to write fanfic of katara being raped so that zuko can save her is truly where i have to disengage. they have also posted rants of them analyzing katara’s body in the show, measuring the size of her breasts and hips to support the delusions in their head about this 14 year old girl. i truly cannot engage with this person’s rants as if they’re just regular shipping war bullshit. this person is a sick individual who not only projects onto a 14 year old brown indigenous character but also sexualizes and adultifies her

for these reasons, i refuse to read a rant posted by her and other big zk blogs on this app. people who take their obvious fetishes and racism and project them onto underaged asian and indigenous characters have gained too much attention from me on this blog. i can’t continue reading rants from these people and analyzing them because i know these people are not treating this show and its characters under an appropriate lens and arguing with their points will do absolutely nothing but enrage me, other people in the ka fandom, and fuel their delusions with our anger as “proof” their arguments hold any weight. on twitter, i’ll continue interacting with what comes up on my tl from my atla moots and if that includes shitting on a deranged zk then fine. but on tumblr i refuse to engage, especially since this app has a tagging system that i use religiously

and i would like to encourage anyone who reads this to also refuse to take this person’s rants seriously and look at them as nothing more than cope-hatred by a sick individual with sick fantasies and thoughts about these minor characters. of course, if you choose to still engage then i won’t stop you and will probably like and reblog your posts 😭

i will just no longer willingly click on links to their rants and subject myself to their bullshit. however, if you’d like for me to argue against zk claims then you are more than welcome to send me a summary of what they’ve said and i’ll do my best to organize a response! i absolutely do not want to discourage anyone from sending me asks because i truly do enjoy answering yalls questions and i love knowing that people like hearing what i have to say on these things lol. please, send me asks about anything and everything! just please understand that i won’t be clicking any links to their posts and blogs or be entertaining anything that comes from the three main delusional zk blogs 🙏

i hope this has made sense and again, i’m sorry anon for taking so long to answer this ask and for not giving the expected response 🫶

[carlyraejepsans]

Hey, if you don’t mind the question. What’s your opinion on Undertale Yellow?

8/10 game. pretty good at being a game, not so much at being an undertale story. the gameplay itself was fun, the area/puzzle designs too, the soundtrack was untouchable it literally gave me the same rush i felt hearing sburb initiation for the first time. minor NPCs designs were fun but the primary cast was too monotonous, tbh. (all the main characters have tall gangly very detailed designs save for like, axis). its attempts at landing Undertale's humor were quite often successful, but it held back on exaggeration and caricaturing its original characters which took away that oomph from the canon game. the character writing was... lacking. which is a pity.

i love fucked up women so i was really disappointed that every single one of ceroba's actions/ideas/influences on the story were nothing but an extension of her dead husband. when you take chujin away she's just... A Good Wife and Mother. or starlo's past love interest ig. i mean both dalv and martlet's backstory were tied to her family and we never see them interact at all. but they do have an established dynamic.... with the dead husband. again. UGH. she's just really wasted as a character (she and chujin should've BOTH been scientists and she should've continued the project AGAINST his wishes after he died. she's the main cast character, she should be the driving force in the narrative, not him—even if chujin sets the plot in montion by inventing the serum first).

I'm not a huge asgore fan—not that i dislike him, he's just not a character i care about all that much—so congrats to this game for making me say "he would NOT fucking say that". the "fuck the royals" subplot thing was really unnecessary. actually, that was a bit of a recurring thing in the game. suddenly introducing these Huge Social Dilemmas like labor exploitation, anti-monarchic sentiments, misogyny (bro who on earth "needs to take a wife" this is Undertale) everyone realizing that clover is a child, over exaggerating the violence at stake... while also attempting to maintain Undertale's careless, bouncy treatment of the situation. that's... not how things work. undertale is able to maintain its light tone BECAUSE it doesn't let you take those topics seriously, they're not meant to be. the fairytale-like king, the battles, the child protagonist, they're all set dressings for the REAL story and REAL power imbalance it wants to highlight: that between player and game characters. everything is in function of that. you take that layer of separation and make everyone aware that theyre violently attacking and killing a literal child... that's not. a good thing dude. if it's not gonna impact the tone of the story, why acknowledge it in the first place? it's just unnecessary

anyway flowey neutral run was really, really fun. his dialogue writing all throughout the game was very solid and i had a blast having him around. however, they shouldn't have tried to anticipate his character development. this game is a prequel, you can't do that without undermining his arc in the canon events. pacifist should've had him doubling down on his frustration from the neutral ending. i do all this work for you keeping you alive and you make the same mistake i did sacrifice yourself for them??? are you BRAINDEAD???? what I'm saying is he basically should've thrown the biggest tantrum of his LIFE. oh and in the NM run he should've been terrified when he lost control of the SAVE file. this is the first time it's ever happened to him and now he's gonna die for good. he wouldn't have gloated like he did.

if you want to hear more criticism along the lines of what i said then this post by the fantastic @andreabandrea covers a lot of what i also felt during the game. i know this might sound like a lot of negativity, but the fact remains that UTY was an absolutely phenomenal work of fan creativity the likes of which we have never seen before in the fandom. considering the quality and polish, i thought it only fair to approach it as the piece of art it is and give it my genuine thoughts on the matter.

overall, still a really fun way to spend the afternoon with a pal. so. thumbs up

[dreamwreaver]

When the pilot first dropped, I was a teen who shipped Chaggie only because it was canon and it was cute. But now that I'm older and watched the series, I realize how... simple and dare I say it, flavorless this ship is. They don't have that much in common, I can't really think of at least 3 things they have the same interest in. Their viewpoints are different and sometimes it can really broaden the perspectives of the couple for the better, but for Charlie and Vaggie, it only serves to clash in a way that doesn't amount to a lot in the long run, considering how Charlie often disregards Vaggie's caution and Vaggie shuts down most of Charlie's ideas. Not to mention that the whole "exorcist reveal" was poorly handled and did no service to their characters, only butchering these two further.

For me, I cannot see Vaggie providing any essential and substantial development to Charlie's growth in the series because of how bad the show makes her out to be only the love interest. Also, what is Vaggie's purpose to the hotel and for redemption as a whole? Simply being the manager and supporting Charlie doesn't really help much especially when she seems not to care all that much aside from her girlfriend. She cannot relate with all these sinners she was originally tasked to kill because she is most likely a heavenborn angel so what can she offer?

While I don't ship Chaggie anymore, I wish the show would take this ship seriously. They are doing their fans a disservice by failing to make their main pairing mean something more than scoring sapphic points.

My sweet nonny, you took the words right out of my mouth. Like, I feel that most charlastor shippers don't have an actual issue with chaggie being canon in and of itself, they have a problem with it being canon and yet it not meaning anything. Which isn't to say shows can't have main characters with stable queer relationships going on in the background. I think Kipo and the wonderbeasts did it? The new She-ra DEFINITELY did that, Steven Universe walked, and I'm guessing had it not been canceled after like 2 seasons Ok Ko let's be heroes would have developed lord box man and processor venemous' relationship in the background with major plot points being their on and off again dynamics (side note please watch it it's made by Rebecca sugar's spouse and it's so good!)

The problem with chaggie, is that they're BOTH main characters. Charlie is essentially the titular protagonist. Vaggie is one of the core six. Them being together in a relationship can be casual while not being missable. Let's look at a straight example of this being done right; Kim Possible. Nothing about Kim and Ron's dynamic as friends/heroes changes once they're in a relationship. Sure, fears and concerns that drive plots change, but the fundamental characters and dynamics do not. Moreover, we see the casual displays of affection between them that definitely indicate they're not just friends. (Then again KP did an awesome job of establishing that Kim and Ron both have this weird attachment to each other long before they got together. They had an official Kim/Ron night on Fridays).

Chaggie at least as far as season 1 is concerned, is not the focus. And yes, I know, "it's only 8 episodes!" Okay, but tell me if every episode counted why did we have one focused on introducing the Vees? Why did we have an entire episode focused on Huskerdust? These are not complaints in and of themselves but it makes you wonder when the big season 1 plot twist is that Vaggie's been an Angel the whole time.

You're also right about Vaggie not... really having a place there? She's just kind of there, and it's very glaringly noticeable. She's manager in name but Alastor handles all the facilities work and is by his own admission (believable or not) that he's there to watch people fail for his own entertainment, Charlie's the one involved with lesson planning and activity development and she certainly doesn't lack for cash to fund the place, Husk and Nifty both have positions within the hotel but are very obviously only there because of Alastor. Angel and Pen are guests. So what does Vaggie actually do besides wrangle sinners and tell Charlie no?

And part of why I'm so annoyed by this is that I think everything we do know about Vaggie's character could make her super compelling if it wasn't so heavily dependent on Charlie. A fallen angel and former exorcist who was cast out because she did the right thing rather than follow orders? Awesome! Injured in the process losing both her wings and eye? Badass! Believes that people can better themselves long after the lives they've lived? Cool! Is constantly fighting against her own self hatred and projects that out onto other people without meaning to? Feels she's utterly useless if she's not being of service to someone or something? Like this is barely scratching the surface but it's all there and it's all super interesting!

Except for the fact that tying it to Charlie negates all of it. Vaggie doesn't seem to have a character outside of Charlie, which is why they aren't really separated. Think about it, even when Vaggie's confronting Carmilla is on Charlie's orders. And while I'm sure vaggie always means well, her way of helping Charlie involves Charlie changing herself to be more acceptable to others. Alastor's way of helping Charlie involved him bringing her to a place where he knew her natural inclinations would actually be welcomed with open arms.

Alastor and Charlie just make too much narrative sense to not be together. They're foils, dark reflections, and they have so much chemistry it's honestly insane. People said that shippers got shafted when dad beat dad came out but all I saw was the greatest "your daughter calls me daddy too" joke of the last like 20 years. Alastor, who is canonically only in people's spaces to piss them off, who makes even his closest female friends wait for permission to touch him, both climbs over Charlie like ivy on a brick wall and lets her touch him on prompted without recoiling. Alastor always offers something useful to Charlie, even if he delivers it in an insult, and more importantly; not once has he ever laughed at her. He wants to guide her and watch her reach her full potential; malicious intent or not he's in it for the long haul. Again I say this not to bash on Chaggie but to emphasize how WEIRD it is that there's this dynamic isn't present in the canon ship.

I'm with you on your last point nonny, I can not actively ship chaggie and want better for it. I cannot tell you the rage that filled my body when I watched the last episode and saw that out of 8 episodes Chaggie got 1 30-second song and not only was it a REPRISE it was a reprise of the FATHER-DAUGHTER SONG!!! If that creative decision doesn't tell me everything I need to know about the ship's treatment going forward, I don't know what would.

[myfairstarlight]

A Lover's Quill

AO3 Link.

Rated: M

Length: 2k

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Penelope Featherington

Canon Divergence

Based on my own post here, s1 AU in which a love letter is written instead of a scandalous gossip column...

This will be a multi-chaptered fic, but this first chapter can be read as a standalone. The whole story is already planned out! I'm not sure I will post every chapter on tumblr yet, but I will update on ao3 frequently as long as my life allows it.

Summary:

Dear Colin Bridgerton, As I understand it, this must be a farewell. Penelope’s fingers shake as she wraps them around her quill. Her eyes slide towards the crumpled pieces of paper scattered at the foot of her desk, wondering if such unrequited fantasy is even worth her tortured ink. Or. A s1 AU in which instead of a Whistledown column, Penelope writes a letter to Colin the night before he and Marina plan to elope.

*additional notes on ao3.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Dear Colin Bridgerton,

As I understand it, this must be a farewell.

Penelope’s fingers shake as she wraps them around her quill. Her eyes slide towards the crumpled pieces of paper scattered at the foot of her desk, wondering if such unrequited fantasy is even worth her tortured ink.

I wish I had the courage to tell you what I am on the brink of revealing to your face, so forgive my cowardness for hiding behind a quill instead. These past few weeks have been full of agonising feelings, and ones I had to fully come to terms with before I could share them with you.

She pauses as she hears commotions outside her door. Servants are running up and down the estate in their haste to gather Marina’s belongings.

I must apologise, for my meddling regarding your and Marina’s courtship. It was not my place to dictate what either of you should do or should feel, even in my misguided belief that I was helping. I do believe that if one is lucky enough to be in love, well, one should declare it as loudly and fervently as you have done, claiming Marina’s hand in front of her many suitors.

She has shared with me your plans to elope to Gretna Green, I hope you do not fault her for divulging your secret. That way, I can wish you all the luck and happiness.

Penelope takes a deep breath. She knows the next words to be the hardest to put into paper and her fingers start to shake once more.

I must, once more, beg your forgiveness for my cowardness as I cannot bring myself to say those words in front of you. I truly do wish for your happiness, and yet I know the words would get lost between my heart and my mouth because there is another truth I could never speak into existence, for I knew it to be a meaningless affair.

I love you, Colin. I have loved you for many years before either of us even debuted in society. Perhaps from the moment we met, it is quite embarrassing really.

Nothing would ever come out of it, I was aware. But you deserve to know, and perhaps I also needed to admit it, to put it into the world, so I may now move on and seriously consider my prospects when I had been fighting them all season. I hope I can find a match that ignites the fire that bursts within your heart with Marina. I hope I will be as lucky one day.

I bid you farewell, my dearest friend.

Yours Truly,

Penelope Featherington.

To her surprise, the tears she feels building up in her eyes do not fall as she carefully folds the paper and seals the letter. When the wax solidifies, Penelope drops a kiss over the butterfly design.

She thinks of the ironic accuracy of her family’s symbol. Just like her heart, a butterfly will not live long once it takes flight, but at least it is free.

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

Sneaking out to Bridgerton House is a familiar affair, Penelope is pretty sure Mrs Varley purposely looks away every time, a part of her cannot believe she truly is that invisible. The letter safely tucked in her bosom, she easily finds John, who looks at her with surprise and worry.

“Miss Featherington you should not—” he cuts himself off as Penelope thrusts the letter in his hand. “Ah. For Miss Eloise?”

“Mr Bridgerton,” Penelope corrects. “Colin, that is,” she clarifies, though John would know she barely ever speaks to Benedict outside of polite conversations and would have no reason to write to him. “Please make sure he receives it first thing in the morning. Is Eloise…?” She points towards the garden.

John nods, carefully putting the letter away. “Is everything alright, Miss?”

Penelope takes a deep breath. “You are aware of his plans, correct?”

“Indeed. I am to drive the carriage to the port.” A beat of silence. “For all that is worth, Miss, I do not think he is making a wise decision.”

She is not quite sure why, but servants have always felt comfortable gossiping in front of her, and even to her. Penelope will not complain, however.

“Well, it is not our place to say.”

“Is this letter not about that? Mr Bridgerton has always keenly listened to you.”

Penelope chuckles. “You flatter me, John. I do not think anyone has ever listened to me.”

But the Ton will gladly consume her every word, as long as it is put on paper. It would not have been worth losing Marina’s trust or breaking Colin’s heart, she thinks.

Although, a treacherous voice whispers in her mind, is it truly for the better, to keep silent? Though Colin believes himself in love, would it be enough to bear the burden of another man’s child? To feel the humiliation upon realising he was but a means to an end? And would Marina be able to live with herself? She has a good and kind heart, Penelope knows that to be true, but even the most beautiful souls can be pushed to cruel means when no other solution is within grasp.

Ultimately, Penelope thought, a couple of hours earlier when she decided against using her greatest weapon in Whistledown, this matter did not involve her. Marina is her cousin, Colin is her friend, but this issue only concerns them. Penelope has tried her best without breaking anyone’s trust, and she is at her limit. She cannot keep being the messenger.

And therefore, she has one more secret to divulge.

Curtseying in front of John — although she is aware she does not need to since he is a mere footman, she thinks it is still polite to do so — she ventures into the garden, to immediately find Eloise sitting at one of the swings. Their eyes meet, but Eloise does not move, nor does she scream at her to leave. So Penelope sits on the other swing.

“El.”

“Pen.”

The use of nicknames makes her smile.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“I’m sorry for not listening to you.”

A pause.

“However," Eloise huffs, "you were so wrong because you’re really pretty, Penelope, if only your mother did not have the most horrendous taste in gowns. Never speak of my best friend as such ever again!”

And just like that, they are friends again. Penelope could cry.

“There was another reason I did not wish to discuss Whistledown with you at the time,” she confesses. Eloise makes a questioning noise, a hand reaching for Penelope’s arm. Penelope squeezes it. “It is because I am Whistledown.”

There is a moment of silence as they stare at each other. For a moment, Penelope worries she won’t be believed. Who could imagine sharp and cunning Whistledown as the petite, two-stones-too-heavy Featherington girl? Eloise's grip has gone lax on her arm before suddenly the brunette girl brightens up.

“Of course!” she exclaims. “It makes so much sense! My best friend, the cleverest woman feared by the Ton!”

Penelope blinks, taken aback, before giggling at her friend’s pure excitement. “Eloise! You exaggerate.”

“Oh, you must tell me how you managed such a fit! And do I get the exclusive before anyone else now?”

Penelope smiles and nods enthusiastically, holding Eloise's hands preciously between hers.

If she must say goodbye to her love, at the very least she will always have Eloise and frankly, it is as good, if not better.

“But say, is it still true? Do you wish to marry even though you have such a gem within your hands?” Eloise asks, her voice gone soft. “You could be entirely independent, you do not need a man.”

Penelope lets out a forlorn sigh. “I still wish for it, although I very much doubt I ever will.”

꧁༺࿅ིཽ• –– •❈• –– •࿅ིཽ༻꧂

John has never been one to care for his employers’ affairs. When the other members of the staff start to gossip, he tends to turn his head and not listen, out of respect. This season has truly tested his limits, however, between Miss Bridgerton, now Duchess of Hastings, debuting, and Mr Bridgerton, the youngest — bar little Gregory — getting so unexpectedly engaged.

And of course, the now notorious Lady Whistledown who rose from the shadows seemingly out of nowhere, stirring up society for being such a bold and yet secretive woman. Gossip had become an inherent part of everyday life, more so than it already was. Whistledown held up a mirror in the Ton’s face to heighten the whispers, and so the Ton speaks even louder because they love to look at themselves.

All that to say, John cannot help but be curious. Miss Penelope’s letter feels heavy. Not literally, of course, but the metaphorical weight of it feels monumental. It is as if he failed to deliver it in time, the world would not be turning on its axis any longer. There was a quiet resignation on the young lady’s face, so far from the warmth she usually bears. In truth, when he heard that Miss Penelope had debuted early and that Mr Colin Bridgerton was courting someone, John, much like the rest of the staff, had assumed she was the one he was courting. There was obvious affection between them, of a sweet and innocent kind, rare in its beauty, and everyone believed they would follow the path Lady Bridgerton and her late husband followed, finding true love at a young age in each other. Alas, perhaps it was only wishful thinking.

And again, it does not concern John, he is merely the messenger — or the driver.

Even so, he decides he would rather not wait. He is aware most of the family is still awake, including the very Bridgerton he is in search of. He finds him brooding in the library, a likely place for him to be, fidgeting by the window.

“Sir,” John says, startling the young man who almost drops the book he was holding. “A missive, for you.”

“A missive?” Colin repeats, intrigued and wary.

“From Miss Penelope, sir,” John clarifies, giving him the letter. He sees the moment Colin's shoulders relax, and his eyes bear a spark of happiness at the sound of her name.

Ah. Foolish youth.

“Right. Thank you, John.”

John nods, bows, then takes his leave. It seems this social season, although coming to its end, will still be full of surprises.

And if it prevents him from waking at the breaks of dawn the next day, he will not be complaining.

(A mere hour later, he catches Colin sneaking out of the house and running across the square. John suspects a new scandal shall befall this family in the morning.)

[livehorses]

The Spot and Disability

It's very interesting to me how ATSV told Spot's story. At a start he's handled as a joke in the movie. Even Miles and the audience with him laughed at the new villain in his introduction. I was personally disgusted when the bread goes across him. Also, the guy isn't good at being bad and stealing an ATM, so he can be considered as a joke.

But it's hard to admit that we as an audience, and Miles did wrong laughing at his face about his new condition. We often mock him when it comes to the bagel joke, but he clearly suffered a lot, and lost it all after the accident. He was being mocked, rejected by everyone, even by his own friends and relatives. He evidently couldn't do anything without any of his holes getting in the way (which is the thing that makes him disabled), he lost his job and was forced to do illegal stuff in order to survive. That left an irreparable emotional damage that shaped him permanently. These are actual motivations for a person to take the wrong path, and even more when you discover you have a power that could give you some advantage over the others.

All of his story is clearly similar to what many disabled people live on a daily basis. "Unfortunately for me and you, this is skin." Sounds familiar? Reminds me of people that have vitiligo, which isn't exactly an illness and it isn't contagious, but common people think it is, and they fear, avoid and reject anyone who has it. Even in these modern days, where society supposedly is for everyone and everyone matters, disabled people are still rejected and disrespected, victims of bullying, mockery and exclusion. They don't get a chance to adapt to this world, not meant for them, and they miss so many opportunities of having a job, to form a family and go places adapted to their unique conditions. This world still needs to educate its people on respecting the disabled. That doesn't mean that disabled people are doomed to become villains, no! That would expand more the prejudices towards them. But what most of Marvel villains, and more, Spider-Man villains, have in common is having an accident that left them disabled: Flint falling on a sand dispenser, Max on a pool of eels, affecting their entire lives. (Not to mention that Doctor Connors was already disabled when he recurred to a not so ethic way to recover his arm, turning him into a lizard-like humanoid)

And yeah, every Spider-Man has a similar (canon) event, they're bitten by a radioactive spider. But rather to turn them onto something horrible, they hit the jackpot instead isn't it? They get attractively buffed, they get cool super powers, they become popular and loved by most people. But the others are treated as villains, and it's true, Spider-Man has to combat crime, and in the end, he shows mercy towards them. But in the end, most of the time their condition is treated as menacing and villanious. That's why No Way Home, brings a fresh vision on helping the villains to get cured or at least treated. (Although, that's not always realistically possible for disabled people, and most of them don't need to be cured or treated like their condition is bad for them)

But the movie leaves it clear it was a mistake to not take Spot's situation seriously. The man might've taken it chill at a start, but the more he was mistreated, the more he got resentful especially with Miles, wrongly considering him the source of all his disgraces, and more when the Super-Hero laughed at him. His power grew at the same time as his anger, and by the end of the movie, Miles admits it, he's his nemesis, they're mutual enemies now, and he's dangerous. If Spot was treated better from the start, with dignity and if he was given a second opportunity, support and optimum laboral conditions, maybe Spot would be now an ally.

How wrong we were, by taking him for granted...

[doppel-doodles]

Bai he and her age

Very random topic to throw out here to discuss but I always found it kinda funny how the fandom portrays Bai he as like a really young kid? Like as young as around 7 sometimes. Yet she doesn’t read that way to me at all.

(And no bai he hate, I genuinely do enjoy all the fandom stuff with her, I think it's cute! I’m just showing my own observations and headcanons here I guess- agree with me, don’t agree with me either is fine. However if you'd like to add your own thoughts please feel free to do so!)

Now to get this out of the way: Yes Lbd calls her host a child, and I'll not deny that. She is definitely a child but I don't think she is a SMALL child.

Let me explain:

Considering Mk, who is agreed to be an adult, is also referred to by Lbd with "child" it is not unheard of her to use the term for someone who is simply younger than her, which is easy considering she is ancient.

Also she definitely very deliberately emphasized not just her host age but also her innocence when she called her that. In an attempt to discourage Wukong from killing her, it wasn’t just flavor text, it was manipulation.

Now to some other things:

First her voice, in her few lines of dialogue she definitely sounds young, or I think youthful is the better word for it but definitely not like a small child. More like a teenager. There is some deepness to her voice I just don't usually hear with preteen characters.

And I do acknowledge that is most likely because her and Lbd share a voice actress(who is awesome btw that's some really good range with how different these characters feel-) so you can chalk it up to her not changing the vocal range up too much so we would take Lbd more seriously and to make her more recognisable.

But it's not just the voice the way she is drawn never read to me as that small either, definitely not as old as mk and Mei but that’s because she is drawn with no eye lashes and make up which by default makes animated characters feel younger.

As example Lbd definitely wears make up and look how it immediately makes her look so much older.

Also while possessed we see bai he without the cardigan we get a better look at her body shape and it's basically the exact same as Mei.

Which makes sense every average lego has the same shape between male and female but still we do see Lego kids in the background and they are drawn differently.

Even here these two characters read younger to me, even the girl but that could be a me thing.

Now lastly this is just some context based observation, like how she was apparently walking around at night chasing a cat??? I dunno I just feel like if she was that young then she wouldn’t be allowed to do that unless a guardian was nearby searching WITH HER but that can be a me thing.

To conclude I would say Bai he at oldest is like a teenager in my personal interpretatio, probably around 15.

Now does that mean you have to accept this as Canon? HELL NO-

It's my interpretation, this headcanon is just as valid as your own, if you don't agree then keep making itty bitty bai he content! It's cute! Sometimes angsty but also It's fun! Writing kids is so much fun, I should know I have four kid characters-

All im saying is there can also be value to a slightly older Bai he, a cringey teen who loves cats and went through the trauma of possession, basically having her face,voice,body hell her identity. Ripped away and used without her consent by another to do heinous things, during a time where you arguably just start to figure out who you are and what your identity even is.

Anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk, leave your thoughts just be respectful and good time zone-

[letstrythisout4]

um hi again. ok I really, really really loved your Blaise head canon. the girl dad one.

If you couldn't tell already, I freaking love Blaise, so I was wondering if you were still taking requests and if you are would you consider doing like a head canon thingy or like something about Blaise in different parts of his daughter's life like

When she's born

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

When she's a toddler

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

When she's in her tween age

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

When she's in her teenage age (13-17)

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

When she's old enough to move out and she's like a pre adult (18-20)

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

etc.

you can add and remove anything if you'd like, plz dont feel pressured if you want to. and plz dont feel pressured to do it if you dont want to, I just really love your writing and you're one of my fav writers here sooo.

Anyways love you

bye

♡ ♥💕❤

authors note: i am so flatttered, here you go babes, love you too, if anyone has anymore requests or ideas lemme know

When she’s born:

I imagine Blaise to be one of those dads who like won’t do anything to risk missing their baby's birth

Like Draco and Theo invite him out for a drink and hes like “but what if something happens while i'm out” “mate she's not due for a month” “yeah but what if”

The moment she is born he has her in his arms, he’s very reluctant to let go when the healers ask for her back so that they can check to make sure nothings wrong but he relents (he hovers over the healers as they perform their diagnostic spells)

He will not let her out of his sight- at all

The only babysitters he allows is his mother, narcissa and lucius

Draco and theo (being good friends) offer to babysit as well but Blaise refuses

Not because Blaise doesn't trust them, but what if something happens and they don't know how to handle it because they are not parents themselves.

No no if blaise can’t be there himself to watch his baby (this rarely ever happens) his mother, narcissa and lucius can take care of her

Though he does not-so-subtle train draco and theo; his friends understand his concern but how are they supposed to be the cool uncles if they never take care of her

Theo is the baby’s godfather and he takes his job so fucking seriously

Like theo reads almost as many books as blaise on how to be a parent 

I imagine blaise to be the one to “take one for the team” and have the first baby from the friend group 

They friend group being blaise, draco, theo, daphne and pansy

Takes a village to raise a child, right?

Well those four are his village

I also imagine blaise was rather young when his daughter was born like early twenties young

Meanwhile his friends start having kids in their thirties maybe late twenties but definitely not as young as blaise did

Painted and built his baby’s nursery all by hand with his village “i could have finished this hours ago with a flick of my wand” “shut up and keep painting, pans”

The first few months with the baby is just everyone basically living in Zabini manor

While blaise won't leave them alone with his baby, his friends are more than welcome to play and feed and spoil her (within his eyesight)

When shes a toddler:

Reads to her every night

“Daddy can i have this plush” *holds up a plush bigger than her* “of course baby”

By the time she is four her babysitters have expanded to include her uncles and aunties

Blaise only allows this expansion because now she is verbal enough to report back what happened while he was gone

Makes his mother sit down and teach him how to braid his daughters hair

His daughter is one of those little black girls that have beads in their hair, she likes the noise they make when she walks

Does hours and hours of research into finding a safe, educational muggle pre-k for her to attend

Absolutely breaks his heart to drop her off for her first day, her book bag is as big and she insisted on adding her favorite bow to her ponytail, he watched as she sat with the other kids paying no attention to the reassurances the teacher was giving

He was the first person at pick up and stood anxiously outside the classroom, eager to have his baby back, it was the first time he ever left her alone with someone outside of his family

The door opened and his daughter rushed into his arms, rambling about the friends she made and the picture she drew of him and her

When she was very young blaise would say, “its okay, accidents happen” to which she now repeats whenever someone makes a mistake

Theo despite his growing emotional maturity refuse to admit that he cried the first time she said it to him

He likes to take her to watch muggle films and buying her dolls of the characters (she has the entire disney line up)

He will play pretend with her and is a professional pirate, ghost, king, prince, wizard (ironically) and dragon

Every year she decides how she wishes to spend her birthday but along with whatever she picks the entire village will come to have dinner at the zabini manor and shower her in gifts

Tween 

Blaise enrolls her in muggle primary school so that she has some social skills pre-hogwarts but has also been having her tutored by the best tutors possible since she could talk in various forms of magic

Blaise limits her involvement in pureblood balls and parties as much as possible; she is involved enough that everyone has seen her and knows that the Zabini family has an heir, but not enough that she can be spotted in a crowd

Has to have the tough conversation of the expectations and potential dangers that are going to be placed on her as a POC, girl, heiress to a wizarding family, descendant of a known slytherin family etc; 

Has to explain what the wizarding wars were like from their families perspective and how that compares to non-Slytherins perspective

(honestly half the reason why he sent her to muggle school was so that she could build up some tough skin before going to hogwarts)

Blaise knew that in the upcoming years he wasn't going to be spending nearly as much time with her as he was used to and decided to take full advantage of the time he did have

The two sat down when she was ten and begun to list out places the wished to visit across the globe, once they were done Blaise rolled up the parchment and got to work planning out the twos next several vacations

The summer before her first year was spent traveling all across India learning about the country's extensive history, several different languages, meals, etiquette, magical practices etc.

The two came back the week before hogwarts and Blaise had to stop himself from looking miserable as September 1st arrived and he and his family stood on platform 9 ¾ saying their goodbyes 

 Blaise did in fact cry silently as he hugged and smiled at his daughter before helping her onto the train

 Tween while in hogwarts:

Constantly sends her gift baskets

The two have magically bound journals where the write to each other at least once a week 

Goes insane decorating the manor for yule (even more so than usual)

Is determined to be the cool dad, and allows her to invite her friends over for the holidays

Teenager

Will sit in his daughters room for hours listening to her rant about whatever she wants because he refuses to be a father who doesn't know his child and no amount of time at hogwarts is going to change that

His house is the hangout spot

Partially because he likes to be the cool dad that her friends know they can rely on; partially because he doesn’t trust adults to look out for his daughter

He knows that teenagers will get up to shenanigans and he's willing to let her go out and adventure in both the muggle and magical world; he trusts her to be responsible

In the summer before her fifth year, she came up to him confidently asking if she could go to a party at her friends house

He agreed, giving her a curfew of 10:30pm

And then invited his own friends over the evening of the party to ensure that he didn’t lose his mind waiting for her

He was a teenager, he remembers the parties that he and his friends threw, he knows what goes on in the Slytherin common room, he even knows that this isn't the first party she's been to (it was basically tradition to throw massive “secret” parties every time slytherin won…literally anything)

He still worries

He's a dad, it's his job

And he tells his daughter as much when she floos home at 10:30pm exactly (she comfortable with her dad but shes not stupid, shes not breaking curfew) to find her dad, and uncles lounging around in the living room; clearly waiting for her

His daughters teenage years can essentially be understood as him slowly letting her go, because he always knew she’d grow up and that he’d have to let but damn was it hard

Young adult

His daughter had made the decision to continue studying herbology and potions after hogwarts, she had found a mentor in Ghana who was a well known healer who was willing to take her in

Blaise spent the summer of his daughters sixth and seventh year in Ghana, familiarizing themselves with the nation and the healers that she was going to be working with

The entire village came together to help her move and Blaise was not the only one to cry this time

As she gets older they continue to spend the holidays together but instead of traveling the world she urges her father to stay in the manor and solves puzzles and play exploding snap like when she was young

They still write each other frequently and visit each other at least four times a year but now when he looks at her, a brilliant adult with a plan for what lies ahead, he feels comfortable enough to walk away for the first time ever

[kaija-rayne-author]

Review 8 in series of Dragon Age Veilguard

60 hours in 58 actual gameplay

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Part 7 is here.

Spoilers for Dragon Age Veilguard

Critical review CW strong language.

Well. If I'm right about who the Gloom Howler is, and I'm almost certain after the Cauldron... I really fucking question the reading comprehension of whoever wrote that arc.

She loathed doing what she was ordered to do to the griffins. She saved the last clutch of eggs, left secret clues on where to find the nest kept in stasis, and answered her calling early so no one could get the information out of her. All in the hope that future generations would be worthy of griffins again. And now she's doing the exact opposite? Seriously?

I mean, I'm aware that the supplementary material isn't something everyone is gonna read, but as far as I know the printed materials are considered canon. Which means they've taken a sad, epic story and completely reversed it in a retcon I'm not sure I can forgive them for.

I've marinated myself in the Lore of this world. That's an incredible disservice to her sacrifices to save the last remaining griffins. It's a disservice to the writer of Last Flight, too. That's not even touching on the 'of course when you shove a blade into the bones of a roughly 400 year dead arch demon... it will come out bloody?' Excuse me now? Someone has watched too much jurassic park, because that would be utterly impossible.

Once again, I'm asking myself What. The. Actual. Fuck. were the devs and writers thinking?

Surely they know at least some of us have read the printed stuff?

Did they think we'd have forgotten? Unfortunately for these retconning incompetents, (I am so, so sick of retconning in general, and fed the fuck up with it in this game) autistic and AuDHD folks like me tend to have razor keen memories about our special interests. Whoopsies.

Last Flight wasn't my fav of the books, but it was beautifully written and heartbreaking with a gleaming golden string of hope.

And this is the end of that story? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

I can honestly think of only one way they could make that make sense. And my trust in Bioware writers now lives below sewer level, so I'm not hopeful they'll go that way.

It's possible that I'm wrong, but understanding and critiquing media is my actual job when I'm not recovering from a pulmonary embolism. And yes, absolutely, I could've written far, far better material.

How. Can someone please tell me HOW a company that has something as successful as DAI under their belt... makes... this? I swear this game (DAV) is like some of the worst AI written shite I saw in ESO back when I played that years ago.

I guess I should say machine written. Whatever. I've heard ESO was doing that a long while ago. And the blah storylines and boring assed questlines proved it.

This game reminds me of that. Though, I think they were probably written by actual humans... I really have to question where exactly they scraped up the writers for them.

The street? A back alley? A mud pit? Did they give apes access to a keyboard and use whatever claptrap they came up with? (Yes. They did. Humans are apes.)

It's common enough in Hollyweird that writers working on a particular IP (intellectual property... IE Dragon Age or Witcher etc.) often utterly loathe the source material. I fail to understand why or how that would be okay, because we can fucking tell, you know? You can tell when a writer loves their work, and when they don't. And we wonder why so many things in hollyweird fail.

Is that what happened to DAV?

They had a fucking blueprint for fuck's sake! DAI was RIGHT THERE. It won GOTY if I recall correctly. No one wanted a game exactly like DAI but dear fucking gods something... not this... would've been far preferable. If they'd used DAI as a sort of map? A guideline or outline? DAV might’ve been a good game. And the sad part is that it actually could have been. With just a little more care, less streamlining to mediocrity, better editing and writing? This could've been another win for Bioware. As is, if it wins anything I'll be suspicious of bribery.

It's just so... meh. Where it's not outright bad.

And even though I'm under media blackout so I can write a truly unbiased review... it wouldn't surprise me if some fans were going gaga over this travesty of a game. Just because it has Dragon Age in the title.

It sucks when you want desperately to love something. But you just can't because you can see the flaws. And the flaws far, far outweigh the good parts.

And none of those good parts are even unique. They're just lifted from other games.

And I got the load up with no CC glitch again. Lost about an hour of playtime figuring out when it happened and which save to reload. I'd really hoped the damned hour long update would've taken care of that.

What a sad mess this game is.

Though on the positive, I do love the new takedown mechanic. And it's oddly satisfying to clear blight. I like tracking things. IRL too. I grew up in a subsistence hunting family. Though, I always just used a camera. I know how to track stuff, so that's fun. I like the ballista and zip lines. There are good parts of the game... but they aren't the parts that really matter.

I had to turn Taash down for Romance because it happened way too fast. I barely felt like I knew them, and my demi ass needs more than what we got before committing to a relationship.

It's warming up with Lucanis, Emmrich, and Davrin. I'm not decided yet. And this is where a polyam mod would be great. There's no reason polyam shouldn't have been included in the game. It could've been just a few characters okay with it like BG3, but the rep and possibilities would at least be there.

I'm incredibly fed the fuck up with the narrative that turns Solas into an awful person. They're trying so fucking hard to paint him that way. They're hammering it home so hard I really can't recommend (at this point) that Sollavellans play it. It's possible that will change, but... sigh. They've even got my Rook saying negative shit about him. Shouldn't that be a choice that I get to make about my Rook? How they feel about Solas?

And if I could kick the incredibly unintelligent and massively fucking annoying Lace Harding off a cliff, I absolutely would. Hard. And laugh while I did it.

Everyone blames Solas. Why is everyone so far up Mythal's asshole that they're forgetting it was always her requiring her bound servant IE enslaved spirit who never even wanted a body (forgetting that part?) Solas to do what she said. That he tried over and over again to dissuade her?

You know, as a friend said, they could've hired a bunch of Ao3 fic writers and paid them in pizza or waffles and come out with better story lines than this.

Oh, but no, it's all Solas's fault. And the narrative is so fucking heavy handed on that that it's honestly nauseating me a little.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Section 9 here.