#I’m also just aware it doesn’t exactly line up with me in my head and when I tried only Mil I was like I miss using my legal sorta

[trash-bin-ary]

I still think about the name I came up with when I was unsure if I liked my legal name and like jeioebe could the world be super cool about having 2 names or that using a different name at all than legal wasnt nerve wracking please

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [6]

Weapon design always came easy to Jack Fenton. He grew up with it, all the way back in Atlantis, when he was just a little guppy.

What he wasn’t aware of at the time was that his parents were from a long and prestigious line of scientists and weapon manufacturers in Atlantean society. But things had been getting dangerous. 

The King at the time cast them out when they refused his demands of greater, stronger, deadlier weapons. The kind of weapons they knew would not only destroy their enemies, but themselves as well.

They fled and went where they thought they would never be found, the surface.

Jack had the easiest time adapting, being as young as he was getting used to breathing air was a lot less of a struggle. 

He adopted one of the most generic male names he could, and adapted the family name of Fenestratus into Fenton. And then it was just living as a human, as humanly as possible, nothing to see here.

By now Jack basically doesn’t know any better. but this piece of heritage is coming back now all these years later, when his son is looking to him for help from the government.

But first he holds his boy close and apologizes, because he sees the fear, and he understands a little too well, and he doesn’t like the picture he’s seeing now that all the puzzle pieces are falling into place.

“I almost became the thing I hate the most. I’m so sorry Danny, I’m sorry I made you feel unsafe in your own home”

The hug is long and warm and tight and Danny isn’t ashamed to admit he might have clung a little bit.

Then Jack holds Danny tightly by his shoulders and gives him a big grin, “Good news though, you’re only half ghost, the other half is not only human but also Atlantean, and there are laws protecting us now” Jack mutters to himself, “I wonder if the whole ghost stuff would actually be put under the meta protection thing… hmm”

Danny blinks for a moment, Jazz gapes, Maddie is suddenly no longer spiraling about how her baby boy got in a terrible accident in their lab and she didn’t know.

“I’m also what?”

“Dad!?”

“oh did I forget to mention that? I thought I did, I know for certain that I had been meaning to”

“Jack sweetie, are you-”

“oh yes, and I remember now, I decided to tell you after our big breakthrough because I didn’t want to distract you, and-” Jack looks sheepish, “I hope you aren’t too mad at me Maddiecakes”

“mad? oh I would never be mad at you about this but we could have- I don’t know, accommodated- Atlanteans are aquatic, well I guess that explains how you could always put away so much water, and when you gave me your umbrella and I thought you were just making an excuse when you told me you didn’t mind and in fact loved getting pelted by the rain-”

Maddie goes on, and Jack thinks to himself that this is exactly the reason why he kept it to himself at the time, Maddie never half asses anything, he’s sure a lot of things are going to change in the house now, it honestly only makes him fall in love with her even more.

Meanwhile Jazz had filled up a bucket of water and then dunked her head in, then came back out not even slightly gasping for breath, just saying “oh my god” over and over.

Danny timed it, “yeah okay, I guess that proves it. now I’m starting to wonder if my weird relationship with air is ghost related at all”

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

The Scare

Synopsis: A terrifying crash puts Y/n in an even more terrifying situation, and it affects everyone, in the end.

young female driver x 2023 F1 Grid

A/N: for this one, valtteri is retired and reader has taken his seat at alfa romeo

also, @badassturtle13 you requested a fic like this a month or two ago while i was in my writers block-era, but if you remember your ask and would still like to read it, here it is

You knew the risk. All twenty of you did. That’s how yet got into these cars every weekend. But that doesn’t make it any easier when you actually face the risks.

You weren’t the biggest fan of the Las Vegas Grand Prix from the start. You knew the planning for it was rough, and that there were a lot of elements of the weekend that everybody was unsure of.

You weren’t exactly surprised when the reasoning behind the storm drain incident was released after Free Practice 1, or when race directors revealed they didn’t even look at the predicted weather for this weekend.

But there wasn’t much you could do about either, about any of it really, so you put your head down and focused on your car.

You joined Alfa Romeo as the third rookie of the 2023 season, and although you and Zhou weren’t getting wins and podiums each weekend, you finished in the points nearly every race, and helped bring your team up to 8th in the Constructors Championship.

As of the second to last race, you were having a good first season; you and Zhou got along great, your team trusted you, and you liked getting to know and hanging out with the rest of the grid. Specifically, your closest friends Logan and Oscar, who you were walking with in the paddock before Sunday’s race.

“Is it bad that I’m not excited for the race?” Oscar asks from the middle of you three, as you walk down the grid.

“I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t want to start P17 either” You admit.

“You’re gonna be fine Oscar, you’ve made your way up the field before, you’ll do it again” Logan shrugs, assuring him.

Oscar nods as you speak up with the beginning of a smirk on your face. “When you make it up the field and into the points, along with me and Logan, what are we doing to celebrate?”

“No. No, we have-” Oscar’s already shaking his head as Logan laughs. “I know some of the grid is going to a club a few blocks away, you guys wanna go?”

“Yes,” You rush to say after you see Oscar start to protest. “we’ll go. No objections”

“We have flights tomorrow-” You interrupt the Australian. “I don’t care, we should all go. And I have to leave now so you can’t say no” You point out as you near the Alfa Romeo garage. Oscar rolls his eyes playfully as Logan continues to laugh.

“Good luck Y/n, see you after the race” Logan says, still chuckling as Oscar waves and continues down the paddock with the American by his side.

You greet Zhou as you walk towards your drivers room to meet with your trainer. The last 20 minutes you have before you’re needed on the track is spent doing reflex tests and speaking with the strategists one last time.

You leave the garage to stand for the national anthem after a brief Grid Walk interview with Martin, and quickly return for the formation lap.

“Alright Y/n,” Your team principle, Alessandro, comes over your radio as you’re pulling out into the pit lane. “do your best to maintain P7 or higher, just be aware of the tires. Stay safe, good luck”

“Thanks, will do. See you at the finish line” You reply before flipping down your visor and accelerating onto the track.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a cold night here in Las Vegas, but the city is awake and ready to watch the last U.S race of the 2023 season. Our drivers are approaching the starting line, the five lights are coming on, and it’s light’s out and away we go!”

You manage to pull away from Magnussen behind you and advance closer to Logan in front of you as you near Turn 1. You get through the first and second lap fine, until your race engineers Alex, informs you that Lando’s crashed during Lap 3, and the 19 drivers remaining are being led by the safety car until Lap 7.

You think your race will be uneventful past that point until you notice the reluctance in the car’s breaking during Lap 19. “There’s something wrong with my brakes, it’s getting hard to slow down” You radio concerned, back to your team.

“Stand by Y/n, we’re checking” Alex tells you as you approach Turn 1 on the next lap. After a few moments without an update, you radio again.

“Anything? It’s getting bad, I can’t slow down” Your voice shows your clear concern. It’s clear to everyone that you’re getting more and more distressed each minute.

“One moment, Y/n, we’re trying” The engineer becomes audible again, and you get that everyone in the garage is trying, but right now it’s not enough.

You’re going at 150 miles an hour down the straight after Turn 4, and you could practically hear your heart beating nervously as you approach Turn 6.

You press on the brake pedal. Nothing. You try to release your hold on the accelerator pedal and clutch on your steering wheel. Nothing.

You go through the options in your head;

Turn and crash purposefully now to slow your car down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the straight isn’t that wide, they could get hurt.

Turn and hit the curb as you pass the corner to slow down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the corner isn’t that wide, they could get hurt. You could get hurt

Your adrenaline is pumping, thoughts are flying through your head at a million miles per second, and you don’t know what to do.

You’re going 150 miles an hour down a straight, but now the corner is coming closer.

“I can’t fucking stop! Alex!” You’re pressing the radio button frantically, hoping someone, anyone responds.

Nothing.

It all goes by in a flash.

Turn 6 comes at you faster than you imagined. Your Alfa Romeo crashes front-wing first into the barriers, the momentum of a 150 mile-per-hour car so strong, not even your harness can stop your body from colliding into your steering wheel.

Everything goes white for a moment, all you could hear is a deafening ringing in your ears, and then the only thing you could feel is pain.

The hurt in your chest is intolerable. You think you’re screaming. There’s smoke or clouds of dust or something else you can’t begin to decipher in the air surrounding you. You could feel the vibrations of the track from the passing cars below you, but you don’t bother to move your head up from where it rests on top of your wheel.

If the ringing wasn’t so loud, you might’ve been able to hear three of your ribs on the right side of your chest break when you first made impact with the wheel. If the pain wasn’t so unbearable, you might’ve been able to notice how because three of your ribs on the right side of your chest are broken, your lungs can barely produce oxygen for you to breathe.

It’s only when you try to gasp for air against the tears running down your face do you notice. The second you try, it sends streaks of pain overflowing throughout your body. Then you realize. You can’t breathe.

You want to stay calm, you really do, but you’re crying so much you could feel them soaking your balaclava, you’re scared to the point that your hands are shaking uncontrollably, there’s still so much adrenaline in you, and you can’t breathe.

You try to radio your team to tell them to send medics or just do something to help, but when you open your mouth to speak, the same thing happens as when you tried to radio for help earlier.

Nothing.

You’re stuck in your crashed car, without a voice, without a breath, and you think this is it.

It feels like hours, but really, it’s only been about a minute since you’ve crashed. Every grand stand is silent, and Martin Brundle and David Croft are speechless. Alex is trying to communicate with you while the other engineers attempt to figure out the the state of your car. Drivers are being led by the safety car under a red flag, anxiously talking to their own engineers to find out if you’re okay. And finally, the safety marshals and medical staff have made their way onto the track and to your car.

The marshals repeatedly shout to you for a sign of responsiveness while the medics move to pull you out of the car. Everyone else is either running in and out of the ambulance that’s just arrived, or helping place a curtain around you for privacy.

The medics transfer you onto a gurney on the ground while the lead medic assess you. She’s pulled off your helmet and balaclava and is left staring at your pale face, alarmed eyes, and gasping mouth.

A few touches to your pulse and lungs confirm her suspicion, and the woman quickly asserts her team. “She has flail chest, she needs an oxygen machine and an IV for pain meds. Her ribs are broken on the right side of her lungs, she’s been barely breathing”

The materials asked for are provided in seconds, and within a few moments, an oxygen mask is placed around your face, and the skin in your left forearm is being pierced with a needle.

For the first time since you started Lap 19, you’ve found both your voice and your breath, the pain striking through your body isn’t as severe anymore, and your nerves have calmed down.

The lead medic hovering over you notices your less-tense state, and lets out her own breath. “You okay kid?” With an oxygen mask, 3 broken ribs, and an IV in your arm, you nod with small smile of relief on your face.

The medics let you stay laying down on the gurney, and transfer you into the waiting ambulance to get you to the nearest hospital. The safety marshals update the Alfa Romeo garage on your state of health, and your damaged car gets moved off the track. Once informed themselves of the situation, Crofty and Martin advise the anxious and waiting fans of your condition and when the race will resume.

The 18 drivers that were restlessly sat in their garages are now visibly relieved and preparing for the race start. The engineers on your side of the garage are pouring over the data from Lap 19 to figure out where it all went wrong, while your trainer leaves to go meet you at the hospital.

While you’re in the hospital, you get hooked up to a new IV and get assessed by a nurse before a doctor comes in to take your X-rays. The results show your 3 broken ribs and the few bruises on your lungs that are set to heal within a week or two.

You’re put on a ventilator to help your breathing after the doctor tells you that you had to stay in the hospital for at least 3 days, and you’d miss the last race of the season as a precaution.

You also undergo surgery hours later to stabilize the broken ribs, and ensure you’re not internally bleeding. Because of all the anesthesia and pain medicine, your either asleep or painless for your first night in the hospital.

The next day is when you’re brought into the real world again, and your trainer tells you everything you missed. He tells you Lando, who you learn was in the room a few doors down when you came in, visited you after your surgery and wished you to get better soon. He tells you about the rest of the race and everything the rest of the drivers have said about you and your crash.

You talk to your team eventually and convince them to let you travel to Abu Dhabi on Saturday to at least watch the race from the garage. You talk to your parents and friends to inform them that your lungs are healing accordingly, that you’re off the ventilator, and have been breathing fine by Thursday.

You’re discharged from the hospital Friday night, and only stop at your hotel to collect your things before catching a flight to Abu Dhabi. You told Logan and Oscar you’d be arriving Sunday morning, which explains why they’re so surprised when you show up in the paddock after Qualifying Saturday night.

“It’s not the best place to start from but-” Logan spots you first, in the middle of a conversation with Oscar. “Oh my god” Is all he mutters before running up to bring you into a hug. You’re smiling, almost laughing at his reaction, until you hear what the American says.

“Don’t do that again. I thought you-” You notice his voice break, and you’re once again aware of what everyone else was feeling while you were breathless inside your car almost a week ago.

“I won’t Logan, I’m okay now” You assure him as best you can before Oscar comes over to both of you. Logan lets go momentarily while the McLaren driver hugs you.

“We were all really scared, y’know. We didn’t know,” He pauses, his voice catches before he’s speaking into your shoulder again. “we didn’t know if you were okay”

“I know Oscar, I’m here though, I’m okay” You know you can’t say much in sympathy to either of the drivers right now, you’ll never exactly know the anxiety and worry they felt on Sunday, but you do tell them about your time in the hospital and how you’re expected to make a full recovery in time for next season.

“I wish you were driving today though, you should be in your car for the last race” Oscar says as the three of you walk through the paddock together.

“I know, I want to drive too, but at the same time, I’m kind of glad I’m not driving until next season. I want to let my lungs rest and everything before I get in my car again” You say with a shrug.

You were being truthful; you weren’t afraid of crashing again, you actually couldn’t wait to drive your Alfa Romeo, but you heard all the possible long term affects of rib and lung damage, and you’d rather miss out on one race than your entire F1 career.

“I’m just glad you’re okay” Logan admits as Oscar nods.

“Yeah, me too”

a short, somewhat emotional f1 fic. 1 down, 3 to go

[mythicmanuscripts]

As soon as you said a/b/o i was sold! And no omega!reader, you stole my heart! Let me know if this is too specific or not specific enough but could we know what would be the best way to court the omegas of team green? How would they want to go about it? What gifts would make them fold the fastest? Would they try to speed up the process against decorum if they got too desperate?

Ooo great question anon!! Since we’ve never discussed a/b/o before, I think I’m gonna write some general head cannons for courting omega!Aegon and also omega!Aemond and then we can develop from there?

While this answer isn’t really explicit, I’m gonna put it under a cut anyway just because I know a/b/o isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. All a/b/o will be tagged ‘a/b/o hotd’ so you can easily filter it out :))

COURTING OMEGA!AEGON HEADCANNONS:

- so obviously Allicent would have a whole line of alphas available and she’d definitely have one in particular that she wants for Aegon. Does Aegon listen to this? No absolutely not.

- I think the trick with Aegon is to find the middle ground between letting him be independent and also caring for him? Cause Aegon would HATE to be controlled but also he will giggle like a school girl and kick his feet if you open the door for him or pour his wine for him.

- while he does certainly like gifts, I actually think he likes small personalised gifts far better than anything expensive? He is quite literally the king he can afford whatever he wants.

- he could not care less about the giant gold necklace the Lannister alpha presented him with, but then you literally just pick a flower from the gardens that he told you was his favourite and when you give that to him he blushes and thanks you and hisses at the poor servant who tries to take it and put it in a vase.

- it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that he’s not exactly one for traditions and decorum, and so if he can see that you accept that then he’s so happy.

- he’s also VERY possessive. From the moment he thinks he might like you, he hates the scent of anyone else on you. He’s well aware that scenting is looked down upon before mating but Aegon found not give less of a fuck because there’s another omega glancing at you and he will not have that!!!!

- it’s also very important to just speak to him normally? He hates when people speak to him formally and put on this facade. He needs to feel at ease and supported by his alpha.

- also he will indeed get very desperate as time goes on, especially because allicent digs her heels in a little about his choice

- there’s a solid three weeks where he’s just losing his mind cause he knows who is alpha is. He can’t stand having to entertain all these other suitors, he doesn’t want them!!!!

COURTING OMEGA!AEMOND HEADCANNONS:

- most people get courting Aemond terribly wrong, because they see his strong and skilled he is and how he’s so very very intimidating and so alphas tend to think he wants them to treat him like another alpha? And make no mistake, Aemond has worked very hard to get rid of the omega stereotypes and he certainly wouldn’t want all the alphas in the keep to treat him like an omega.

- but…. He just melts when you treat him like an actual omega? The others bring him swords and books and armour, all things he can get himself very easily and none of it impresses him. You bring him flowers and the softest blanket you can find for his best and he just absolutely melts because that omega side of himself is so so happy??

- he wants to feel safe and loved and cherished and yes he knows he’s not acting like someone who wants that but deep down he wants an alpha to treat him like a proper omega so badly.

- So when you introduce yourself and ask if you can stand closer and ask before you touch him and offer him nesting materials and pretty jewellery and just whooing him like he's any other omega

-- this is because when you treat him like that, it means you see him as an omega deserving of that? All the other alphas trying to get his are rude and entitled about it, acting like because he fights and rides a dragon and does things not stereotypical of an omega then they can just demand his hand and he's supposed to be thankful that anyone is interested in an omega like him

-- but you see all those traits and just thinks it adds to how incredible he is? So when he meets you and you ask if you can kiss his hand and go for a walk with him through the gardens? He's sold.

-- During your walk, you have very real genuine conversations and you listen to him and you give him the credit he deserves. You know he's very knowledgeable and you enjoy learning from him. The others expect him to be quiet.

-- I actually think out of Aemond and Aegon, it would be Aemond who gets the most desperate and is the most likely to beg their alpha for more before anything is official. I know this sounds counterintuitive but I'll explain: Aemond never actually thought he would find a good alpha.

-- Aemond was convinced he'd either be alone all his life or he'd have to settle for some pompous alpha who uses him and who he'd spend most of his days avoiding. So when suddenly there's an alpha who treats him well and listens to him and who makes him feel so wanted and safe? It's so so so hard to wait.

-- Allicent warns him, tells him that he can't take this too far before he's mated because if word gets out that he has then he'd never be able to find another alpha but what allicent doesn't understand is that this is exactly why he wants more. He doesn't want anyone else to even look at him. He wants to be drenched in your scent and so thoroughly yours that there can be no one else.

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Dear John

Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: Maybe you should have listened to your best friend's warning about Regulus, you didn't. Now you just have to deal with the consequences.

Genre: Angst

CW: Intimidation, angst, pureblood's ideology, toxic family dynamics

Word count: 1.6K

This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' version) collection.

“Maybe it's you and your sick need. To give love then take it away

And you'll add my name to your long list of traitors, Who don't understand

And I'll look back and regret I ignored when they said, "Run as fast as you can"

You wished you had listened. The argument you had with Sirius when he learned you were dating his brother was being replayed in your head while you ran towards your boyfriend’s room. 

“He’s going to ruin you, you don’t know him like I do.” Sirius had said, voice low with anger and worry. “The moment my mother hears about you two it’s over.” 

“You’re the one that doesn’t know him!” It had angered you, Sirius assuming that Regulus’ love for you was fragile. “I really love him, and he loves me. End of discussion.” 

“You don’t understand what you’re getting into. My brother would never prioritize you over our mother. and she’s never going to accept a Gryffinfor Muggleborn as a suitable partner for Regulus” 

You knew he was right, but some part of you naively thought that Regulus truly loved you.

“I’m saying this because I care about you. You should leave while you can” you could tell Sirius was worried and meant no harm, but that argument ended your friendship with the oldest Black brother. 

That was almost a year ago, you used to have a close friendship with him, but now he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You refused to break up with Regulus, and you really thought you were doing the right thing. Regulus had shown you every part of him, you knew about his family and all the things he had done and regretted. But you also knew about the caring, loving and kind person he was. 

Even when the war was starting to become more and more imminent as the dark lord and deatheaters won power and followers, he never showed any interest in joining into the dark lord’s lines. The abuse and intimidation became worse and worse for mugglerborns who had the bad luck of running into slytherings in the hallways. 

Regulus was very aware of it, he became like your shadow, never leaving your side until curfew forced him to. And he was the first to greet you every morning, waiting for you outside your house’s common room. 

At least it was like this before Christmas break. It had been a week since you come back from the break and Regulus was acting weird, at first you thought it was because he had to adapt again to Hogwarts - It took him some time to come back to his normal self ater staying in his house - but after a week of almost no contact with him you became worried. 

On your way to the dungeons you ran into Snape and Evan. You had tried to avoid them, head low and pace hurried, but it seemed like they had a special radar to spot possible victims for their tortures and mocking. They blocked your path, you were cornered against a wall as they got closer than it was safe. 

“Look who is here” Evan had teased you, his wand pointing at your face. “Regulus’ little pet”

“Why are you separated from your guardian dog?” Snape taunted you. “Has he finally realized that he’s got more important things to do rather than take care of a filthy mudblood?” 

You didn’t like a bit where the situation was going, you had tried to reach your wand, but Snape had noticed and raised his wand at you. 

“Don’t even think about it” 

“You know, Snape? I’m curious.” He hadn’t stopped looking at you. “What are you doing here, there’s no way you’re going to see Regulus right?”  

He knew exactly that it was the only reason you would ever step into the dungeons. His face turned into a look of fake pity. 

“Oh. Poor little thing, he hasn’t told you has he?” Evan was mocking you, playing with your psyche as all slytherings liked to, still his next words made your blood run cold. “He’s become the new right-hand for the dark lord. As he ought to, at the end of the day he’s a Black.” 

That’s when you started running, Snape and Evan probably tought it was enough torture to mess with your head and they let you pass them by without much hussle. 

And you ran all the way to the Slythering common room. Usually you wouldn’t dare to enter alone, but you needed to see Regulus. You didn’t want to believe Evan’s words, ‘He’s probably trying to confuse you, make you confront Regulus and cause an argument’. You were trying to convince yourself, but you couldn’t deny that the possibility was there. 

You made it to Regulus’ dorm, without even knocking you entered. Inside Regulus was laying in his bed, Barty was in one of the desks, working on homework, or a plan to destroy civilization. You didnt really care, all you could focus on was Reg. 

“Regulus” your voice didn’t feel like yourself, it was void of any emotion other than obvious tiredness from your running. 

Regulus jolted out of bed when he heard you. Barty turned around and his lips morphed into a teasing smirk. 

“Oh well, look who’s here -” “Leave, now.” Barty was cut short by Regulus’ demand, for a second you thought he was talking to you, but he was facing Barty. 

“okay, okay. No need to get aggressive…” Barty said before getting up from the chair. He walked past you, didn’t even acknowledge your presence, and closed the door behind him. 

───✥───

Regulus knew this was coming, there was no way you wouldn’t notice his absence or avoid entirely the rumors of the new deatheater in Hogwarts. He just wished it didn’t have to be this way. He coudn’t face you, from the start you and him were on opposite sides of the war, but he getting the mark was what made it definite. 

“Reg-” “What do you want?”

 Regulus’ voice was icy, not a single emotion in it. He saw you flinch at his tone. He never talked to you like that, his tone was always sweet and words picked with care whenever he referred to you. His change in demeanour angered and saddened you, he could tell. 

“Are you really asking me what I want?” your tone was colder now, you stepped closer with each word. “I’ve barely seen you for a week, and the moment I step into the dungeons the first thing I hear is that you’re the new right-hand for the dark lord. Please, tell me it’s not true”  

He could hear your voice crack and your waterline become wet with unsed tears. He knew you so well, he knew you were not going to cry, he knew you would give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out. He knew that if he would tell you the truth, how he was forced and tortured to take the mark, you would understand, try to find a way to help and stand by his side. 

“It’s true” 

And he couldn’t allow that. If he were to let you in again, he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to do. End things, for your sake. 

“You’re lying to me, this is all a big joke, it has to be” you cried. 

He didn’t reply, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. At his silence you reached for his sleeve, pulling it up. He didn’t even flinch, and he let you stare at his bare arm. Well, not bare, as the deatheater mark was there, taking up half of his arm. 

You dropped his arm and stared at him in absolute shock. He didn’t say anything, that was angered the most, how he was not even able to say anything. 

“You didn’t want to, right?” he stayed silent “Please, say something” you implored. 

“It's my duty, it’s what 's right.” he deadpanned. 

You chuckled humorlessly “What’s right? That 's right? You’re joining a pureblood supremacist cult, there’s nothing right about it!”  

“And what about us, do I mean that little to you? Does our relationship mean anything at all to you?”  you said in a softer tone. 

“No. It was a mistake, from the start. I shouldn’t have dated a mudblood” Regulus had to make an enormous effort to not flinch at his own words. But this would make you leave, it had to. 

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, but the heartbreak you were feeling was unlike anything you’d ever felt. Regulus had been able to make you feel special, loved for almost two years. He held your heart in his hands and treated it with care, now he was ripping it and giving back to you. 

He didn’t want to fight for your love and you were not going to beg anymore. 

“You’re right. It’s funny, really, Sirius warned me this would happen, but I was too blinded to see that he was right” bringing up Sirius was a low blow, you knew how much he meant for Regulus. But at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel the same heartbreak you were feeling. 

“At the end of the day you’re a Black.” You repeated the same words Evan had said to you on your way to the dungeons. 

Regulus just stood there and nodded. You left his room, clearly distressed and crying. Regulus’ heart was shattered beyond repair. However, this was the best option. He would rather see you leaving, crying and heartbroken for the last time in his life, than lying on the floor lifeslessly as his family had promised if he didn’t leave you and took the mark. 

At the end of the day he was really just a Black, it was the family he was born to and the family he’ll die for. 

Author's note: this one is so sad, I'm sorry Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

[iinterstellaarr]

cupid, send help!

spencer reid x GN!reader

Summary: Ahh, young love! Is what everyone in the BAU would say if either of you realized the other also had feelings.

an: IDIOTS IN LOVE YES YES YES if yall have any ideas send them my way im in a writing mood also there is a slight mention of y/ns eye color my bad gang

Garcia thought she was going to rip out her hair.

It had been a month since I had spilled the beans to Penelope about my small, tiny crush on Reid.

Ok maybe it wasn’t so small.

“Ask him out!” She leaned back in her chair as I nearly choke on my tea

“Absolutely not! He doesn’t even like me like that! Also do you realize how unprofessional that is! Not to mention the amount of paperwork and explaining there’d be. Plus, no one in-“ I’m suddenly cut off when Penelopes warm hands are planted on my cheeks with a firm squeeze

“Hun, I love you dearly but cupid needs to shoot you square in between the eyes.” She pats me on the back as I dejectedly head back to my desk. I notice Spencer leaning over Morgan and the sudden quick smacks to Spencer’s shoulder when I made eye contact with him.

“Yep! Thanks for the help Reid!” Morgan’s eyes snap back to his computer as he clicks around a few times and pulls up some bullshit article

“Anytime!” Spencer quickly stalks back to his desk and tucks his head behind his computer as I sit down at my desk across from Spencer, observing the exchange between the two

“What’d you help with?” I look over his computer to a hunched down Spencer with a tint of red across his face

“Oh, you know! Just some… work… stuff.” He coughed slightly and the blush only got worse as he spoke, a loud slap could be heard through the bullpen as Morgan face palmed at Spencer’s weak excuse

“…Right.” My eyes darted back to Morgan who shrugged slightly and went back to his work

———

I groaned slightly and rubbed my hands over my eyes. This is the 5th time this week my favorite mug has been placed on the highest shelf in the kitchen that I can’t reach. I reach up again and strain to reach but before I could reach it I notice a hand grab it and place it in my reach at last

I smile and spin around to be met with Spencers brown eyes, suddenly very aware of the lack of distance between us.

“Thanks!” A blush blossoms on my face as he takes the biggest step back from me and plays with a button on his shirt. He stutters a bit before saying something along the lines of “Your welcome” and quickly walks away

“You have to be kidding me.” I watch Penelope walk over to me and dramatically fall in my arms, nearly knocking my mug out of my hands “All my hard work to make it romantic, ruined! All because Reids IQ drops when he’s around pretty girl!”

———

I can feel eyes on me.

Spencer had been staring at me for the last 20 minutes, at least.

“Take a photo it’ll last longer” I smile slyly as I look up and make eye contact with him directly, but instead of him shyly looking away his eyebrows knot slightly

“Your eyes have a little green in them.” His head tilts slightly “And your mouth parts when you’re focused, just slightly.”

“Dr. Reid, are you flirting with me?” He doesn’t look away. His gaze looks even more focused while he studies my face like it’s the last time he’d look at it

“I’ve been trying too for a while.” He mutters before quickly realizing just exactly what he admitted

“Really? Wanna elaborate on that?” I giggle as his face bursts into a red haze

“I mean.. well, you’re very attractive and your personality only adds to that! There’s no reason why I wouldn’t like you..”

“Spencer.”

“You let me ramble and never made me feel bad for doing so.”

“Spencer..”

“Your incredibly sweet, and not to mention funny too-“

“Spencer!” He looks up from the spot on his desk he was staring at “Do you wanna get dinner after work?”

“Yes. Please.. I’d like that a lot.” His dopey smile takes over his face as you giggle

“Yes!” Penelope slaps a hand over her mouth as she watches your interaction from the balcony “You owe me $10 Morgan!” She points to Derek who groans

[snakeautistic]

I love finding characters I can relate (/project onto) within media. There’s something so comforting about seeing yourself on screen. I end up headcanoning most of them to be in-line with my identities (lesbian, wasian, autistic) because they are literally me in my head!!

Anyway here’s a long ass list of my favorite characters and why I head canon them as autistic for fun!! If you have any others you’d like to add I’d love to hear them. (And please note this is just my interpretation, and highly based on my experience with autism. I’m not saying they’re definitely autistic or that all the traits I listed are the dsm-5 criteria or something.)

Princess Bubblgeum from adventure time:

This girl is peak evil scientist autistic. Her intense need for control, the way she carefully observes the citizens she created, an outsider to them, not quite like them… god it’s so perfect. I read her as being somewhat low empathy as well, it’s hard for her to change her perspective to that of others. Plus the fact her brother neddy is a pretty obvious metaphor for higher supports needs autism. I think they of represent how autism runs in the family and appears in all sorts of different ways in different people. They’re sort of two different representations of the spectrum.

Marcy wu from amphibia

I mean this one is just obvious. The biggest nerd of all time. So obsessed with her RPG special interest that she literally sucks her and her friends into a fantasy world. She’s clumsy (just like me fr), very smart but super socially awkward, a little oblivious and naive. She’s terrified of change, especially if it means abandoning the few social bonds she’s been able to make. I honestly find it hard to believe this wasn’t intentional.

Entrapta from she-ra

Another pretty overt example. I do have some issues with how she was portrayed in the show- (keeping her on a leash was weird.) but overall I really love her. She understands her tech, not people, and it can cause her to come into conflict with other characters. Their treatment of her makes me sad at times, but it’s realistic. I also love some of her other quirks, her love of tiny food, her exitable demeanor, ect.

Pearl from Steven Universe

Peridot is the more obvious example of an autistic character in SU, and while I agree she’s coded that way, I personally resonate more with Pearl. She is not very socially aware, and bothered by disruptions to her routine/ broader life changes. She doesn’t like to break rules (despite being a literal rebel lol.) I find it interesting how she seems to have the poorest understanding of life on earth out of the gems, despite having lived here for thousands of years. She is graceful, but has an almost sort of awkward gangly-ness to her that I relate to. Her neuroticism is also very similar to how my anxiety disorder presents.

Pearl has a tendency to infodump, without realizing those around her are uninterested. Even her relationship with Rose struck a chord with me. The hopeless devotion to her, the way she followed along at her side. It’s how many of my friendships have been. Obvious it’s not exactly the same considering Pearl having originally been her servant, but while not being an explicitly autistic trait, that sort of clingy, starstruck relationship is something autistic people are prone to developing. She does little hand stims at times too that I love to see.

Poison Ivy (specifically the version in the Harley Quinn animated show)

I’m surprised I haven’t seen more people mention poison Ivy. Fiercely intelligent and deeply introverted, she isolates herself from all people, and only connects with and understands her plants. (Which her deep affinity for can definitely be read as a special interest.) She very overtly has trouble forming relationships with others.

She’s blunt, socially awkward and a loner, has something of a flat effect and a monotone voice. Those around her initially read her as cold and impersonable.Her struggle with social anxiety as well as intense fear of failure/ low self esteem is also very relatable to me. She also often struggles to express/understand her feelings and emotions. Her radical political ideas and the fact that she’s literally an ecoterrorist paints her as having a very strong sense of justice and a somewhat black and white worldview. (Me)

Finally, her relationship with Harley just SCREAMS neurodivergent solidarity. Harley Quinn is (I think canonically) adhd, and they’re both outsiders in the world that found each other and just… get each other. She’s Ivy’s closest and only friend and amazing girlfriend and god it’s all so perfect.

They remind me a lot of the relationship I have with my best friend with adhd except theirs is gayer.

[sweet-evie]

Day in the Life of a Single Working Dad

A glimpse into the life of a single dad who's doing his best.

masterlist || pt 3

Content: Established Relationship, afab!oc, fem!oc, nameless!oc, she/her/hers pronouns for Satoru's S/O, singleparent!gojo, dad!gojo, Sentimental!Gojo, Mentions of Suguru and Satoru’s deceased lover, FushiGojo fam, Family, Fluff, Children…

A/N: Megumi is an angsty child… And Gojo’s antics don’t help. Also, I was 10 once and I had a potty mouth. Plus, I have loads of Gojo clan mentions sprinkled in this one, and they're connected to a post I made about my Gojo clan headcanons.

Never Grow Up Pt 2

November 2012

06:17 AM; Ota City, Tokyo

“Whatever happened to checking the calendar for appointment dates scheduled in advance?” Shoko snickered on the other side of the line. “And why are you rushing? I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not going anywhere, but I am…” Satoru hissed, shooting a half-hearted glare at his phone propped up on a stand. Maybe answering Shoko’s FaceTime call was a bad idea.

“Why would you forget that Satsuki has her third vaccination scheduled today?”

“Trust me, you’d hate hearing the story.” He muttered through a mouthful of cereal.

“Sometimes I wonder what happened to the Gojo who would whine about his day not going okay. Where is he?”

“Buried under baby formula and diapers.” He grouched and shoveled the last of the sugary snacks into his mouth.

Catching movement at the corner of his eye, he turned to flash a bright smile and a wave at Tsumiki coming down the stairs dressed prim and proper in her school uniform.

“Come off it, Gojo, you have it easy. All you worry about is showing up on time to wherever you’re needed. And you never even do.”

“Okay, untrue.” Satoru knew Shoko was only joking. Did he have to mention the ad hoc lesson plans and the paperwork for the most recent missions he’d been sent on, plus the occasional parent-teacher meeting sprinkled in-between? “But I am self-aware enough to know that I have people helping me.”

“All that and you’re still a mess.” Megumi interjected, appearing behind Tsumiki with his school bag clutched between his hands. He barely evaded his sister’s elbow.

“Hey~” Satoru whined… Loudly. “I feed you!”

“The cook feeds me… He feeds you too.” Megumi shook his head, approaching the island counter to take the school lunches that had been prepped meticulously. He blurted out a quick ‘Hi’ to Shoko through the phone before busying himself with arranging his things. “Who packed this by the way? Kaihara comes in at lunch time today, doesn’t he?”

Sometimes Satoru marveled at how easily Megumi memorized everyone’s schedules in the house. Satoru knew who came in and out of the house too, of course, but he didn’t exactly bother remembering what time they were supposed to clock-in for their shifts. He was just used to seeing people outside of his family in the house, doing what they were hired to do.

“I would like to say that great teacher Gojo is good at packing lunches too, but I can’t take the credit. It was all ‘Miki.” Satoru grinned, reaching over to squeeze Tsumiki’s shoulder affectionately and pat the top of her head. 

“Don’t look too relieved now.” Shoko piped up.

Satoru had almost forgotten they were still on-call. “I’m not even going to bother asking what you mean by that because it’s nothing good. I’ll see you at the school, Shoko.”

“See you… Bring Satsuki’s important medical documents.”

“Gojo, if you’re really busy today, Megumi and I can always take the train.” Tsumiki offered, smiling at him sweetly as she finished zipping up her school bag.

“And be late to homeroom class? No way!” Satoru protested playfully, sticking out his tongue.

“Because you always show up on time, don’t you?” Megumi muttered sarcastically, only all too eager to push Satoru’s buttons this early in the day.

Grinning impishly, Satoru took threatening steps forward with his hands outstretched, ready to mess with the boy’s carefully styled hair. Megumi was about to swat his hand away — infinity be damned, when Ms. Yumiko — one of the hired nursemaids — wandered into the kitchen carrying a gurgling wriggly baby in her arms.

“Satsuki!” Tsumiki cheered, coming over to greet the happy girl.

“Full from breakfast and fresh from her bath.” Ms. Yumiko was grinning, bouncing her adorable charge in one arm as Tsumiki teased, tickled, and cooed at the baby. “Everything you’ve requested is on the table in the foyer, Sir.”

Satoru began ushering Megumi to move forward, snagging his blackout glasses left on the dining table as well. “Thanks, Yumiko. I know your shift’s barely begun, but you can clock-out early if you want. I’ve already told Kaoru and Shiori they can take the day off too, since Satsuki’s coming with me today. Isn’t that right, Princess?”

Satsuki turned her wandering attention from Tsumiki to her own father as Yumiko held her out to him, all the while babbling a continuous stream of, “Da-da” as she was transferred from one place of safety to the next.

Satoru knew she didn’t understand what that meant yet, but he’d take it. His baby was looking for him. “Right here, ‘Tsuki.”

Father and daughter giggled at each other as Satoru eagerly participated in baby talk, cooing and mouth popping at the little girl. She had on a cute blue dress dotted with white kittens, complete with matching shoes and headband. Satoru didn’t think he was being biased if he said Satsuki was the cutest baby in the world. It wasn’t an unfounded brag either… It was just facts.

His baby girl with snow white hair, the prettiest amber eyes, and the puffiest cheeks. Like a chipmunk…

She should be a Disney princess.

“Hey, Gojo!” Megumi grumbled, peeking around the hallway to scowl at him. “Satsuki will be late for her shots if you don’t hurry. Tsumiki’s already in the car.”

He didn’t mention that he and Tsumiki would be late for school too if Satoru kept dawdling.

Satoru gasped dramatically and grinned when it elicited another giggly reaction from the baby in his arms. “Oh right! We can’t be late, Princess. Shoko will kick my ass.”

“Language!” Megumi huffed from the foyer.

“She doesn’t even know what it means yet!” The man whined, launching into a tirade. “You cuss all the time, and yeah, I can hear you cussing through the walls. But do I call you out? No, I don’t, because it doesn’t matter!”

“Fuck off.”

Satoru cackled like a demon out of hell as Megumi’s footsteps faded away, followed by the door closing. The kid didn’t take shit and knew how to tell people off. He couldn’t wait to see how that would serve him in the years to come — especially as a sorcerer.

If Satoru bothered to look, he would have seen Yumiko standing politely to the side, shaking her head at the antics in this household. When she’d first taken on the job, she had been made to believe that this was a serious undertaking and she would have to maintain strict propriety and formality at all times — express reverence to the head of the Gojo clan and the wielder of the Six Eyes… Reality couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“Stay safe, Master Gojo. Thank you.” She bowed as he passed by.

“Thank you, Yumiko. The house is yours!” Satoru waved as he made his way to the foyer and the genkan to get his shoes, phone in one hand as Satsuki busied herself chewing and drooling on the collar of her father’s leather jacket. “Clock out anytime and lock up. See ya!”

=OoOoO=

08:13 AM

Satoru pushed his glasses farther up his nose as he watched Megumi sullenly trail after Tsumiki as they passed the school gates. The kids would leave primary school behind very soon, moving on to Junior year. He should probably have Ijichi start looking into junior high schools they could transfer to. Two more years of that, and Tsumiki would continue to senior high school, while Megumi would relocate to Jujutsu Tech — on-track to becoming a full-time sorcerer.

Tilting the rearview mirror ever so slightly, Satoru grinned at Satsuki nestled snuggly into the comfiest car seat his money could buy. She was busy touching and nibbling her Yukimi Botamon plushie. That one would get its turn in the washing machine soon — about to join the other Digimon plushies victimized by her curious hands. He’d heard of parents who got upset with kids who tore up their toys, but it didn’t really matter to him. He would just buy her more.

“Should we stop by Starbucks, Princess? Auntie Shoko demands payment in coffee.”

Her reply came in wet babbles and a single squeal that Satoru took as a ‘yes.’ Putting the sedan in reverse, Satoru carefully backed away from the parking spot he’d stolen from an angry mom when he’d arrived ten minutes ago. Megumi and Tsumiki looked at him like he was crazy, but really, the angry lady didn’t have to get so defensive.

He glanced at Satsuki again as he left the school and drove to the closest Starbucks he could find. She was still babbling to herself. He was late for his own first year class at Jujutsu Tech, but it didn’t really matter. The kids could train with their upperclassmen just fine. Besides, he knew the moment he set foot on campus with Satsuki in tow, all sins would be forgiven in favor of entertaining the cutest, most precious baby alive.

Even Yaga couldn’t reprimand him for tardiness if he was toting Satsuki around.

Shoko accused him of using his daughter as an excuse and a shield to get out of trouble, and they were right. But who cared? Satsuki certainly didn’t. She just wanted to eat her baby food and play with her toys.

Besides, if all else failed, he could always hit the higher ups, who had the audacity to complain, with excuses along the lines of, ‘My kids are waiting for me at home.’

Being responsible for three growing children was a tall task, but in this at least, Satoru Gojo could admit he’d had it easy.

Well, easier than most.

Most people had budgeting to think about. They had to juggle work, child care, home maintenance, and healthcare. Most people were not privileged enough to be born into a family that provided their every need. Most people couldn’t move from one upscale residence to the next in just five days. Most people didn’t have a wealth of connections they could call or the money needed to take care of this and that to expedite processes as much as possible.

(What do you mean there were technical legalities to having a baby outside of marriage? Something about Supreme Court rule enacted last month? What do you mean there are lengthy legal procedures needed to legitimize the birth of his daughter just because he and his Love weren’t married yet when they had her? Apparently, the surname ‘Gojo’ didn’t have much weight if she wasn’t considered legitimate under the eyes of the government’s law.)

Satoru Gojo had the backing of an influential clan who had footholds in and out of jujutsu society. The majority of them cared too much for the family’s reputation as a whole and had resolved to help “cover” the “shame” Satoru’s “careless dalliances” brought them. It was a ridiculous mindset to have, really, but as powerful as Satoru was, he couldn’t change the way people thought.

It didn’t matter to him as long as he got what he wanted and Satsuki could grow up without worrying about legal bullshit around her birth.

Part of him wanted to whine about it to someone — about how much his life resembled a neverending whirlwind now, but Satoru was self-aware enough to know that he had been granted enough privilege and enough resources to make his life manageable. His younger self certainly wouldn’t have thought about it like this. If he had thought his life was busy before having Satsuki, he wished his old self could see it now.

=OoOoO=

10:02 AM; Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School

The drive up to Jujutsu High had been mostly uneventful. The only real hiccup had been when Satsuki started crying and he had to pull up at a gas station with a convenience store, so he could run inside and hopefully find something she needed that he didn’t have. But really, everything should be in the baby bag that Yumiko packed before they left home this morning.

Turned out, the baby needed a diaper change, and Satoru didn’t know what was worse: the fact that Satsuki had to be uncomfortable now of all times or the fact that diaper-changing stations were only in the women’s bathroom. It wasn’t a problem because he could warp in, do his business, and warp out, but it was still quite baffling.

Why did people in-charge of making restrooms and toilets neglect to put diaper-changing stations in the men’s room?

With Satsuki now strapped to Satoru’s chest, her baby bag slung over one shoulder, and Shoko’s unhealthy umpteenth dose of caffeine in hand, Satoru kept using Blue to move quickly up the stairs to Jujutsu High up until he reached Shoko’s clinic in the school.

Satsuki was giggling again, humming, and babbling ‘Da-da’ over and over as her tiny fists gripped the front of his dark gray shirt. Her little head moved this way and that, taking in colors and shapes that didn’t have a name in her growing brain. Satoru didn’t miss the way his baby kept staring up at him though, and who was he to refuse his daughter’s whims when she babbled like that? And if he had to blow his own saliva bubbles and pop them loudly so she would give him that cute gummy smile, no one had to know.

“Well, if it isn’t the deadbeat father.” 

Shoko joked when Satoru stepped through the door of her clinic at Jujutsu High. She was taking the unlit cigarette out of her mouth to drop it in her stash.

“Nice joke, Shoko. You should try something funnier next time.”

Shoko snorted and helped him unload. The baby bag was deposited on the couch, and the Starbucks coffee left on her desk — plain old cold brew for her and a cola frappuccino for Satoru. Holding out her hands, Satoru gladly passed his baby over to Shoko while he rid himself of the carrier.

“This is her last round of vaccines right?” He asked, fishing out the documents Shoko asked him to bring earlier this morning.

“Da-daaaa~ Da-da Da-da.”

“Yep.” Shoko nodded once and turned to the gurgling baby in her arms, voice turning soft. “Is ‘Da-da’ the only word you know? Say Shoko… ‘Sho-ko.’”

Satsuki giggled, popping drool bubbles in her mouth. “Da-da! Da-da Da-da.”

It devolved into incoherent babbling after that as Satsuki moved around in Shoko’s arms and stared at everything and anything. Satoru snickered and reached over to wipe off the drool from the corner of his daughter’s mouth.

“You’re so gross, ‘Tsuki. This after you made a mess on the way here too?”

“Huh, I wonder where she gets it from.”

“I’m offended.”

“You should be.”

Leaving a pouting Satoru, Shoko went to get everything she needed for the vaccinations. Satoru took Satsuki back and made her sit on one of the patient beds. Shoko took her time preparing everything, but it was hard to ignore the conversation happening behind her — a nonsensical conversation, but it was one nonetheless. It was a mix of baby talk and so. Much. Giggling.

People could say what they would about Satoru Gojo at this point, but anyone who worked closely with him couldn’t deny that he loved his daughter dearly — so enamored by her too.

With Satsuki sitting on a patient bed, propped up by her father, Shoko began administering the shots methodically, and Satsuki’s giggles turned into loud wailing and a lot of fussing.

Satoru cooed, wiping fat tears that rolled down his baby’s cheeks, and when they were done, he took her in his arms, tucked her head into the crook of his neck and calmed her down in the softest, most saccharine voice Shoko ever heard him use — a voice he used just for his baby girl. In some small way, it felt wrong to be there. It almost felt like intruding on a very private family matter.

“Sshh~ why’s my baby cryin’? Did it hurt, Princess? It’s just a tiny boo-boo, don’t worry about it.” 

He patted her back, left kisses on the top of her head, swaying side to side a little until the tears stopped and the aftereffects of the vaccine took hold.

“You don’t mind if I stay here a bit, do you?” Satoru gestured towards the sleeping baby in his arms. “She’ll wake up hungry and I have to feed her afterwards.”

Despite herself, Shoko had to laugh a little and nodded her consent. She sat next to him on the couch with a medical report in her hands. The clinic was silent — almost as if no one was there. Shoko intently read the document she’d been studying before he got here, while Satoru contented himself with scrolling through his phone while a baby slept on his shoulder. 

Time passed slowly in silence, and after a while Shoko spoke up quietly.

“When are you moving back to your apartment in Roppongi?”

“I’d like to do it before ‘Tsuki’s first birthday. Everything should be settled by then. Also, we haven’t exactly been weaning her from breast milk, but she doesn’t like it much anymore. Is that normal?”

“She’ll be 7 months old soon.” Shoko fiddled with the corner of a page. “It should be fine. Some babies feed on breast milk until they’re 2 years old, some are weaned early by their parents, and some don’t have a preference for it at all. Humans are strange like that.”

“Oh…”

“Sometimes it feels like only yesterday that you moved into that house in Ota.”

“I know, right?”

“Does your mother know that you’re planning to move back to your apartment?”

“I’ll tell her soon, after I’ve finished arrangements to move all of the kids’ stuff to my apartment and after an interior design crew finishes remodeling the space to fit children. Less trouble that way.”

Shoko chuckled quietly. “Look at you being a responsible adult. Never thought I’d see the day.��

Satoru wanted to say that it only took losing Suguru and the Love of his life to childbirth, but he held his tongue. It would be a stupid joke to make, and it wasn’t even that funny. If he had done things differently after that failure of a mission to bring Amanai to Tengen, maybe Suguru would still be here… If he had been a tad more responsible, maybe his girlfriend didn’t have to lose her life.

This was the reality he lived in now, and he’d promised himself he would do anything in his power to give Fushiguro’s kids the life they deserve and love his daughter enough so she would not miss out on the affection her late mother would have lavished on her.

So even if the situation was far too complicated, he’d waded through the knots, got his hands dirty, and did his best to sort things out.

After Satsuki’s birth, his mother had been adamant about him spending more time in the Gojos’ expansive ancestral home — the family’s estate, located further in the outskirts of Tokyo. There, he would have had access to a small army of hired nursemaids that could cater to Satsuki’s every need. The women in his family and his own mother had more knowledge about childrearing and experience than he ever could, but there was the fact that if he let it happen, they would isolate him from his own baby — pushing him towards his duties instead. 

That was not something he wanted, and the Love of his life would hate him if that ever happened. He made a promise to her.

Satoru would have preferred to raise Satsuki in his spacious 4-bedroom apartment in Roppongi from the start, but his mother did have a point. For the first few months of Satsuki’s life at least, his schedule required convenience. Roppongi was in the heart of the metropolis. His apartment was the perfect bachelor pad and entirely ill-fitted to house a newborn and all of her needs.

He settled in Ota City, which was somewhat closer to Jujutsu Tech and his family’s ancestral seat; moved into one of the residential properties registered under his name as clan head. It was a private two-storey home maintained by a live-in caretaker after the clan purchased it two years ago. 

The propositioned army of nursemaids were reduced to three, scheduled to come in shifts throughout the day so Satoru would have assistance 24/7. His mother hired a cook for him, someone in-charge of nutritional meal prep for Satoru and the children under his care. The housekeeper and the gardener the family had hired when the house was purchased would retain their duties, reporting to work twice a week to make sure the property stayed neat and tidy.

So while he was indeed busier than ever before, his life wasn’t as messy as it was expected to be had he been forced into a situation where he had to deal with all of this by himself.

“Megumi gives me enough shit about it.” He joked, shaking his head at the memory of Toji’s son.

“You think you can manage without the nursemaids and the cook after you go back?”

“I could keep them around if I wanted too, but nah. The apartment is serviced, and honestly, Tsumiki knows how to work a kitchen anyways. I’m her sous chef you know.” He declared proudly, flashing Shoko a grin that reminded her of a much younger, more-carefree, and more insufferable Satoru.

“I pity whoever’s on housekeeping duty when they have to clean your apartment.”

“So mean.”

=OoOoO=

04:55 PM; Ota City, Tokyo

The rest of Satoru’s day fell into a routine. After Satsuki got the last round of her vaccines, she had woken up hungry, fed from a bottle, and then she was strapped to her carrier, before Satoru went off to check on his first years. 

He had four of them this year. They were nothing to write anyone home about though. Two of them were more suitable for support — perhaps as assistants, and the other two were guaranteed sorcerers. They could get to Grade 1, if they pushed themselves hard enough — which looked like it wasn’t the case, because all four always did prefer theoretical lessons over practical applications.

And all four shared the same sentiment towards him bringing a baby to campus.

They adored Satsuki… Of course they did.

Satoru was predisposed to believe that anyone who didn’t, didn’t have a heart.

One of the girls, Eri, jumped up from her perch under a tree and rushed to Gojo first, squealing Satsuki’s name all the while. The other three followed and Satoru let them fawn over the baby girl while he delivered a verbal lesson on cursed energy control right there on the field. The students fiddled with her headband, cooed over how cute her little dress was, and watched her fondly as she played with the Digimon plushie that Satoru brought over. Yes, he derailed from the lesson from time to time to accommodate his baby whenever she squealed, “Da-da,” but for the most part, Satoru Gojo stuck with his version of a ‘routine.’

Finish a lesson at Jujutsu High, check the list of missions that were filtering down to the students, skip the paperwork (he’d make Ijichi do it, easy), receive mission briefs from Yaga, pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school, and finally head home.

He wasn’t really one for routines. Living the same way every day was just boring. Whatever routine he’d managed to put together for the last couple of months had been ragtag… Impromptu. In a sense, it wasn’t really a routine, was it? More like a list of daily plans that got moved around the board by order of changing priority.

Megumi was quick to point out that it was a disgraceful mess if Gojo ever called it a ‘routine’.

Satoru had to give him credit though. He and Tsumiki were better at holding down the fort while he was running around taking mission calls from the higher ups, being a teacher, and being around Satsuki enough to witness her milestones.

Just like now…

Phone tucked between chin and shoulder, the furrow between Satoru’s brows did not disappear the longer he listened to an urgent mission brief on the other side of the line. 

Megumi had closed the front door behind him and was heading to the living room to do his homework. Tsumiki cast one last concerned look at Gojo before turning away to follow her brother.

A shrill squeal stopped her in her tracks and she spun around to see Satsuki staring straight at her, one arm outstretched and pointing in Tsumiki’s general direction. She was babbling and blowing bubbles again and when Tsumiki outstretched both hands towards her, Satsuki squealed and gurgled some more.

“One second.” The clipped and curt tone instantly shifted into a cheery voice as Tsumiki approached. “Mind taking her for me, ‘Miki?”

“Nope. Come here, Satsuki.” Tsumiki smiled, carefully taking Satoru’s baby girl into both of her arms. “Can you help me do homework?”

Shifting the wriggling baby into one arm, Tsumiki brought over her school bag, plopping it next to Megumi’s as she claimed a spot on the carpeted floor. The television was on a nature documentary channel, and it held Satsuki’s attention while the siblings started to take care of homework. Megumi sighed, looked up from his notes, and paused immediately after.

“Tsumiki, she’s eating her fingers again.”

The brunette stared down at the baby lying on her lap and clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Oh dear. Satsuki, no… Your hands are not that clean.”

Tsumiki tried to take Satsuki’s hand out of her own mouth, but the baby began to whine in protest. She wasn’t crying yet, but soon she would be. The moment her wail gradually increased in volume, it was over. Tsumiki hadn’t even realized Megumi had left his spot. He startled her a little bit when he tapped her shoulder and held out the jar full of multi-colored pacifiers that he’d taken from the dining room.

“Da-daaaa! Da-daaa! Da-da Da-da~” Came the long, drawn out wail that Megumi had been afraid of — all before Tsumiki had the chance to stick one of the suckers into her mouth.

“Well, you know who to call if you don’t get your way, huh?” Tsumiki tutted, gently pressing the pacifier nipple to Satsuki’s lips.

She latched on to it, and Tsumiki wiped down the baby’s hands with gentle antibacterial wet wipes that she’d fished out of her bag.

“How is she spoiled already? It’s only been six months.” Megumi huffed, plopping back down on the carpet.

Tsumiki giggled. “I don’t think she knows she’s spoiled, to be honest.”

“You said yourself, she knows to call for Gojo if she wants something.”

“That’s just what it sounds like. But really, does she even know what ‘Da-da’ means?” Tsumiki mused curiously. To Satsuki, ‘Da-da’ was just a word that brought Satoru to her. So what was the comprehension level of a six-month-old?

“I don’t know.” Megumi shrugged.

“She knows all of us and everyone coming and going in this house, and she’s attached to Go—”

“Heyyy~”

Tsumiki and Megumi turned to the direction of the owner of the voice. As expected…

“I heard a Princess crying. Is she okay?” Satoru sauntered over to them with that ever present grin. The glasses had been tucked away in favor of a black blindfold. It hung around his neck.

“Mhm… Just fussy.” Tsumiki piped up, stroking Satsuki’s hair while the brunette rocked back and forth slowly. “She wanted to eat her own hands, so Megumi had to get the pacifiers.”

Satoru snickered and eyed the jar of flavorless suckers that the kids had abandoned on the couch. Satsuki was happily sucking on a Leafmon pacifier.

“Tried one of those once. Sucks that they’re so bland.”

Megumi wondered if Satoru realized how crazy his statement was. Even Tsumiki was giving him side-eye. God forbid Satsuki inherited her father’s sweet tooth. It would not end well if the food supply around the house slowly shifted to just sweets. Thank the gods for Kaihara who always brought fresh produce and vegetables that Megumi could actually eat — except red bell peppers. Fuck those!

“Seriously? How old are you?”

Megumi should have known better the moment he saw a shit-eating grin spread across Satoru’s face. “Old enough to have a baby and raise them apparently?”

“Gross.”

“Hey~ What’s wrong about having kids?”

Megumi glowered at him — an expression too eerily similar to a man Satoru knew not too long ago. “Shut up. You’re gross.”

Satoru laughed obnoxiously. “I don’t know what you mean, Megumi.” 

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. They all knew Gojo knew… It was just one of those silent cues that said, ‘Drop the subject.’ Heaving a dramatic sigh, the man hopped over the back of the couch, landing smoothly next to Tsumiki. The brunette propped Satsuki up, so she was sitting on her knees, and Satoru’s expression brightened even more as he kissed his daughter’s forehead.

“Mind her bedtime, yeah?” He patted Tsumiki on the head and reached over to tousle Megumi’s hair — the latter felt unfortunate enough to receive it because he was not quick enough to evade him. “And you—” He zeroed in on the baby and tickled her tummy so she giggled, pacifier nearly falling out of her mouth “—be good to ‘Miki and ‘Gumi.”

“Hm?” 

“A mission?”

Tsumiki hummed just as Megumi asked.

“Yup. In Aoyama and Suginami. Depending on how this mission goes, I may or may not be around tomorrow morning. Yumiko’s coming in early though, and Kaihara prepped meals that can be reheated in the oven for breakfast if you want them. Otherwise, there’s cereal and cookies!”

“Be safe, Gojo.” Tsumiki smiled at him with so much sincerity, lifting Satsuki’s little fist to mimic a wave. The tiny girl stared up at her dad with big amber eyes, still intently sucking on her pacifier. “Don’t worry about us.”

“I’ll try not to be.” He grinned and rose to his feet. “Oh and about the ride to school tomorrow. If I’m not here by morning, Ijichi will be around to pick you both up. Yumiko and Kaoru will take care of Satsuki. I’ll be off! Good night, kiddos!”

=OoOoO=

Contrary to what he’d said, Satoru did make it back home before the children were due to wake up. A single glance at the property assured him that everything was untouched — no sign of attempted entry on both the physical premises and the layers of protection barriers over the home. The talismans infused with his cursed energy remained undisturbed — probably more than enough to ward off any threat that wanted to come close.

Unprovoked physical and supernatural attacks were rare for him (actually close to nonexistent because what curse or curse user would be stupid enough to launch an assault on Satoru Gojo?), but you could never be too sure.

Someone left the light at the foyer open — probably Tsumiki. She was mindful like that. The rest of the house was neat and quiet like always. Even before he’d had Satsuki, Megumi and Tsumiki were always responsible kids that picked up after themselves, and Satoru appreciated it. It wouldn’t have been a problem if they were messy because the apartment in Roppongi was clean-serviced routinely, but the Fushiguros’ tidiness and sense of responsibility that matched an adult’s was a sad reminder of how they were abandoned too early and were forced to grow up.

The watch on his phone displayed 4:47AM in white bold letters.

He took the stairs two at a time and made a beeline for the room beside his — Satsuki’s nursery. It was a usual sight: Satsuki in dream land, her night light was on, the winter-themed animal mobile hanging above her bassinet was turning slowly in circles too, and the room smelled of baby powder mixed with something distinctly floral. What was not usual were the kids sleeping comfortably on the large bean bags on the floor, sandwiched between the Divine Dogs. They were supposed to be in their own rooms across his own, but nope… Tsumiki was clutching a Digimon plushie — completely unaware of the presence of a canine conjured from her brother’s shadows, and Megumi had an open book on his face, the fingers of one hand buried in the Black Divine Dog’s fur.

What a sight to come home to…

He didn’t really say it, but he truly did appreciate the way Megumi and Tsumiki cared for his daughter like she was their own sibling. He had the Fushiguros as his wards first — looked after them together with the Love of his life, and when Satsuki was born, the situation could have turned sour quickly because of the swift change in living arrangements and the introduction of a baby that would take the majority of his attention. They could have been resentful… They could have been jealous… They could have thrown tantrums.

Instead, he had Tsumiki being her kind and sweet self as always, while Megumi was… Megumi. The kid was a grouch from the moment they met, but Satoru knew that he cared — in his own quiet ways. He and Megumi were similar like that, but Megumi was reserved and preferred to keep to himself where Satoru often forgot what personal space was.

Snapping a picture of the domestic scene that stirred something in his chest, Satoru turned and left the children in their peaceful slumbers, making his way to his own bedroom to catch a nap.

If he could come home every day to a sight like that… he’d never complain about a single thing in his life ever again.

[stuck1nthelimbo]

im so normal about them — 📌 post | masterlist | ko-fi

4 》(Nipple play) - Gagging - Hickey/biting marks ― Breakup High [Getou Suguru x f!reader]

When Satoru breaks up with his gf, who's supposed to console her other than his best friend, Suguru? And consoling includes more than reassuring words...

TAGS!!! 2.1k, no beta reader, gojo's ex sleeps with his bestie, unprotected/no condom sex, hickeys/bite marks, teasing, licking cum, slight nipple/breast play, pussy drunk suguru lol

pookie, desperate suguru??? who wanted satoru's gf??? since the moment they met??? these two posts are giving me desperate vibes

It’s been a week since he broke up with me, and instead of feeling heartbroken, I can’t believe he had the guts to do so. This ego of mine couldn’t handle being humbled by the man, who asked me out first. After the breakup, to my surprise, the person who lent me a helping hand was none other than Gojo Satoru’s best friend, Suguru Geto. I woke up to a text the following day with consoling words and an offer to hang out with me to keep me company and my mind — occupied. I took midnight walks with Suguru, divulging my worries to him. After a meeting or two, he confessed to having a teeny tiny crush on me since meeting me through Gojo. I wondered how many times he had jerked off to the thought of me.

“Still can’t wrap my head around it,” I scoff, crossing arms over my chest, one leg over the other, and lean back in a chair while a raven-haired male brews coffee in the kitchen. He doesn’t turn around, merely throws a glance over the shoulder. Tied-up hair subtly bounces around, the bangs dangling about.

“Come on, don’t look into it too much,” he doesn’t sound reassuring, just annoyed with the repeating topic. I’m preoccupied studying his back, he hums some lullaby. The outline of his broad shoulders is visible through the plain white shirt; He has awful timing in choosing gray sweatpants. Or if we take into account that he was expecting me to show up at his flat, he is perfectly aware of how to create a ‘comforting environment’ for a person with a broken heart.

“He broke up with me and still cannot leave me alone. We hang out so much,” Geto thinks he can click his tongue without me noticing. As he turns around, I spot the paper-thin line his lips have formed.

“You guys still hang out?” he huffs.

“Remember when I was texting you the other night?” I refer to the event a few nights ago. He gently places the cups filled with piping hot coffee on the table and raises an eyebrow in anticipation of an answer. “I went to his place, we drank,” I hesitate to mention the affair that took place, “and then had sex. I texted you while he was asleep beside me,” the change in his facial expressions is apparent: the soft gaze turns into a mean glare in a split second. He clutches the cup handle between his thumb and index fingers.

“Don’t you have any self-respect?” He sneers before bringing the coffee cup to his lips.

“Why? Cuz I sleep with my ex?”

“Exactly,” he leans forward, hissing through his teeth as if we’re surrounded by people in his empty apartment. “You’re sleeping with a man who broke up with you, still clinging to him,” I have my reasons, “Any man would gladly sleep with you.” In response to his indignant comments, I also lean, keeping my face a centimetre from his.

“I’m not clinging to him, just looking for a replacement,” I sip my coffee, basking in its deliciousness until I notice the glassy stare Suguru’s giving me. Head hanging low, he observes me from under the furrowed brows. I think he’s mindlessly upset with me until the contrast between his large cold palm and my warm thigh snaps me out. Those long fingers bluntly dig into my supple flesh. He has never been this bold.

“And I said, any man would eagerly take Satoru’s place, ok?” alluding to the availability in the middle of the conversation, the sheer confidence in his moves prowls a shiver up my spine, “You don’t need to beg…”

“Who would take his place?” the tension in the room can be cut with a knife. His mouth noticeably agape, his eyes hungrily wander all over me, making my skin tingle with excitement. Their final stop is around my lips. Before he’s finished daydreaming, I grab his face, squeezing cheeks and leveling his eyes with mine, “who?”

“Oh, you know damn well,” he mutters through puckered lips; My heart drums in my chest when his eyes scurry across my face, his lips pouting stronger as I grasp his face. My unoccupied hand lingers around his stiffened shoulder, sensing the muscles gradually strain under the path of my fingertips.

His jet-black eyes stare unfocused, stunned, as both arms envelop my waist, open palms firmly press on the back, pushing me onto his lap. Geto’s hot breath spills all over my jaw, goosebumps prickle it, and his coffee-stained lips skim along the skin. The caution in his moves thins out my patience.

“I can fuck your brains out better than him,” he mumbles against my ear, securely holding me against his lap and shoving the pants-straining erection onto me. How long did he wait for this opportunity? A large hand swats my ass, I wince at the sensation and glance over the shoulder; His digits dig into the flesh, gliding under the fabric of my shorts, until the tip of his middle finger brushes against the underwear. I hold my breath, shifting attention to the hand that eagerly kneads my pliable ass cheeks.

“Geto,” I fake a protest, attempting to distance myself from him, but his arms bind tighter around me; He groans at the sound of his last name: I make it sound so formal, meanwhile my hips instinctively roll on his lap with legs spread apart.

“Don’t call me that,” he objects with a weak pout. I lean back as far as possible, hold his face between my hands, and goad him.

“Suguru,” I've never referred to him by his first name; His eyes luster, one hand sinks further into the supple flesh of my ass, the other sidles through my hair and forces me into a greedy kiss. His tongue slithers into my mouth, lapping against mine. Steamy fog clouds my judgment, dissipating the remaining scraps of thoughts as I cling to him, throwing arms over his shoulder and linking fingers behind Suguru’s head. He breaks the kiss, short-winded, lips glistening with thin threads of saliva.

“Say that again,” his eyes glued to my lips, he babbles. I repeat, enunciating each syllable of his name. He leaps to his feet and hurries to the bedroom, I lock my legs around his waist, preventing myself from slipping off of him. Blindly swinging open the bedroom door with an open hand, his mouth feasts on my neck with vehement hunger, scattering violet blotches across my shoulders and throat.

I ease the locked legs behind him, slump back onto the bed, and throw arms in the air, awaiting him.

He crawls on top, messily yanking clothes off of me, tossing them on the floor. Grabbing the neck of the white shirt, Geto pulls it over his head, before he closes the distance between us: planting light kisses around my lips, he decides to move down, softly tracing down the jawline, neck, and chest. His teeth tug on the perky nipple, drawing whimpers from me. Suguru’s breath on the damp skin electrifies my body.

“Fuck, I wanted to do this for a long time,” he speaks under his breath, in hopes that I won't hear it. His hands fumble with my shorts, jerking them off my knees. Suguru’s lips return to adorn my skin with pecks under the navel, while his fingers hesitate to remove the underwear. The digits circle the clit through the flimsy fabric, driving me mad. The pressure’s just right, but the rhythm’s off, making me arch my back.

“Suguru, please,” it doesn’t take me long to whine, I’m impatient, and he snickers against my stomach; His hand reaches for the condoms on the nightstand, and instantaneously I smack it away. He has an unopened box of condoms, so either he has been expecting me to give in or– “It’s fine, just do it,” I croak. My fingers slip between the waistband and his flushed skin, stretching the sweatpants down, followed by his erection springing out: for someone who seems timid and bashful, the girthy cock clashes with his rosy-cheeked face and eagerness.

“Are you sure?” Suguru’s voice wavers, his digits hooking on my underwear, until I slide it to the side without pulling them off, exposing my dripping slit. His ears redden, and the embarrassment seeps into my shoulders when he stares at my nude figure, savoring the sight. I gasp, hold my breath, as the head of his cock nudges against the entrance and feel my inner walls stretch to accommodate him. He’s painstakingly slow, relishing the sensation of a cunt fluttering around him. Suguru’s mouth agape, half-lidded eyes stare into mine, he repeatedly mutters the word ‘fuck’ and I feel some sort of accomplishment. The moment he bottoms out, his groin pressing against me, his head buries in the crook of my neck, “God, I've dreamt about this,” the words slip through his rugged breathing.

With lazy slams, Geto rolls hips, his fingering holding on my thighs for their dear life; My brain decides to shut down: I lay head back into the pillow, close my eyes and fully immerse myself in heavenly passion. Those strong hands hold my hips still, as he shoves his full length inside me, before entirely sliding out and repeating several times. My cunt spasms on Suguru’s cock, I feel the veins running along his manhood throb against my walls, scraping the remaining sanity out of me.

“Fuck, faster,” I beg; He’s here to torture me and atone for my mistakes; Peeking under the lashes, I witness his pathetic expression, furrowed brows, clenched jaw, air whistling through the teeth while his eyes affixed on the spot where we’re connected.

“You’re so fuckin’ good, baby,” the words spill out of him piece by piece, scattering as he rolls his hips vigorously, hands clasped to my sides tighten, gradually bruising the skin underneath the digits; Geto’s arms flex, burly muscles clearly protrude; He rams his cock in me, the sound of damp skins smacking against each other echoes in the room. He leans forward, latching his lips around the perky nipple, sucking it like his livelyhood depends on it. My cunt clings to his cock, and with each thrust, he loses the composure: front teeth gently tug on the nipple, afterwards, he feverishly nibbles on the flesh around it, creeping up til those canine teeth sink into my neck. His hips don’t let up, rutting into my without a trace of coherence.

The rougher he gets, the quicker the ecstatic pleasure builds in the pit of my stomach; Within a minute or two, my finger desperately circles my clit, and the coil of orgasm unravels under the navel, washes throughout every fiber of my being. I attempt to cover my mouth and stifle my moans, but he swats it off, instead his hand holds my jaw, and his lips lock with mine. I helplessly mewl against his tongue.

Geto’s legs jitter, he frenziedly pulls out, to my disappointment, and with a few eager pumps, his palm squeezes the base as the ropes of white creamy fluid shoot on my body. He hoarsely pants, low whimpers sneaking in between the deep wheezes. My legs still tremble from the aftershock.

Spent, Suguru slumps at my side, his arm rests over his forehead, nostrils flare as he regains steady breathing. I prop myself on elbows, line index finger on my stomach, scooping the milky substance on, and smearing it on my tongue.

“What a waste,” the eyes that have been glued to me, widen in shock; The laugh reverberates from his throat.

“Fuck, don’t do that, I’ll get hard again,” Suguru pulls himself up and off bed, tiptoeing to the nightstand on the other side. He hands me a couple of wet napkins, and with one in hand, glides it on my skin. As he’s eagerly cleaning up the hot mess he has created, my eyes burn holes on his face, delighted by the sight. Sculpted jawline, rose-tinted lips, silky black hair curtaining the pale face. Hand reaches under his chin, but the doorbell at the door snatches his beauty away from my fingers.

“You get the door, I’ll clean up,” I insist, crumpling the napkin.

A slim hand turns the doorknob, and to his surprise, the white-haired male grins from ear to ear. Without an invitation, the guest barges inside, leaving the host to hang open his mouth in silent response.

“Did I interrupt anything?” his long finger points at raven haired’s blotched neck with a vile grin. But before long, a smile fades from his face, he turns the head frantically and sniffs around, “the perfume,” his eyes bounce from the kitchen to the bedroom door.

“Satoru,” Geto’s voice breaks, lodges in his throat as Gojo swings the door wide open, only to be left with the sight of me, fully nude, prancing in front of the mirror, neck adorned with Suguru's desperation.

“Suguru…”

© stuck1nthelimbo; do not redistribute, repost, modify, or use in any way, form, and/or shape. re-translation by asking for permission first.

[sunsetcougar]

Biotech AU. At about the same time Charlie and Vaggie are having their talk, Sera and Raphael are meeting up to have their own discussion.

Sera was the one who had to contact Lucifer, and that conversation wasn’t pleasant for anyone involved. “Lucifer was… displeased to hear we’re keeping his daughter here, but after I explained what happened and why it’s necessary he thankfully backed down. Though we should make an effort to get her home quickly. How is Lute faring?”

Raphael barely looks at Sera, more focused on looking over the latest test results. There’s stress lines in his face, a rare thing to see in Heaven. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure when she’s going to wake up, if she wakes up at all. Removing her halo was the right call, it was causing more damage, but quite frankly I’m shocked she’s still alive. Half of the mechanical parts I’ve found should have killed her when they were installed. There’s machinery in pretty much everything, including her heart and lungs.”

“So how is she still alive?”

“I don’t know. Sheer force of will? Unheard of luck? Some secret technique? I don’t have enough information to say for certain, and that also makes treating her difficult. But I did learn something, at least. Her blood is red.”

“Red? But only earthly creatures and sinners have red blood.”

“Exactly. She’s not an angel, Sera, she’s a sinner. A sinner who’s mostly machine and had a false halo feeding her who knows what.”

Sera is quiet for a minute, processing that revelation. “Why is a sinner in Heaven, let alone acting as one of our soldiers?”

“I don’t know! Everything I learn just gives me more questions.” He sighs. “Are there any other updates on your end?”

“Adam still isn’t talking, and if his silence continues I may have to resort to force to get answers, though Emily is trying to reason with him now. We may also be able to gain some insight from the princess’ exorcist partner.”

“Ah yes, Vaggie. Shes not in as bad of shape as Lute. When I saw her she was mostly aware and seemed to be disoriented mainly from stress. I couldn’t run the tests I wanted since she wasn’t able to stay in my office that long, but I’m not concerned about her suddenly collapsing or anything like that.”

Sera sighs and rubs her forehead. “How did no one ever realize this was happening?”

Raphael shrugs. “I don’t know. I just… don’t know anything about this. But I need to go check on Lute. Her vitals have been a bit shaky and I’m concerned her body might give out. It’s under so much stress it might not be able to handle it.”

Sera begins following him as he heads towards his office. “You’re saying she might not survive?”

“I am. Some of the machinery I found is long outdated, installed decades ago. It’s obvious she’s been fighting a long time, and for souls will goes a long way in helping them heal. If she doesn’t have the will, doesn’t want to fight anymore, she won’t. If she’s done all I can do is keep her comfortable while her soul fades.”

That sets the mood to heavy when they get to Lute's room. Shes laying on a hospital bed, unconscious and hooked up to about a dozen different monitors and machines to keep track of what her body is doing and keep it stable. Raphael sets about checking on her while Sera just stands in the doorway, half hugging herself and trying to swallow back the thick guilt she beginning to think might choke her.

[testingthewatersss]

I never lost him Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  etc. Just unapologetic cuddling and comfort ft. Steve Rodgers. Bucky Barnes x F Reader Chapter 1 2400 words fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Post TWS Steve realises that he's not the only one looking for Sargent Barnes. Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced.

“I don’t really know what you want me to say”

“Y/N” Tony says, exasperated, “I want you to say that you’ll be more careful”

“That’s a bit rich, comin’ from you”

Natasha scoffs at the young woman’s reply, quickly shrugging at Steve, who is positioned directly across from her in the quinn-jet.

“I” Stark continues, “Didn’t just ransack an entire underground base-“

“No, you were just waiting outside said base, with a shit-tone of explosives”

This time, Romanoff doesn’t even bother to disguise her laughter, much to the dismay of the other, more uncomfortable passengers.

“I also have a billion-dollar suit-”

“I can make myself one, if us matching would make you feel any better”

The offer silences Tony, who rubs at his goatee, screwing his eyes shut for a moment as he considers his sister.

“I’m sorry me doing my job makes you nervous” she offers calmly, standing up from her spot to pace towards the main console, “but, look on the bright side, we got all the tech we wanted, and, it’s one less HYDRA lair for SHIELD to worry about bringing down”

“She’s right, Tony” Steve inserts, speaking for the first time since their departure, “I’m not gonna say I agree with her method-”

“Oh good” Stark counters, still clearly irritated, “Because for a second there, it sounded like you were going to praise my little sister for jumping head on into a fight without backup”

“I had back up” Y/N mutters, keying something into the computer

“Like who?” Tony bristles,

“You” she answers, turning to face him.

It’s clear from the silence that follows, that that is something she was expecting him to have known already.

It’s also clear that her having that level of unwavering faith in him, is something he didn’t consider as a possibility.

He’s suddenly very flattered. It shows.

Y/N rolls her eyes, and everyone notices how identical the expression looks when it’s her who’s wearing it.

Tony smiles the rest of the way back to New York. Not even Fury chastising them for their ‘rash actions’ does much to temper his new found elation. In fact, when he tries to scold Y/N, by saying that ‘Reckless impulsivity’ must be a genetic trait they share, he only seems to get happier.

Steve looks somewhat satisfied with the days events, and Natasha is boarder line chipper considering her usual blank facade.

“What did you go back for?” she whispers, when Y/N eventually takes her seat, back at her side, “i pochemu ty pryachesh' eto ot svoyego brata?” and why are you hiding it from your brother?

“because it’s not any of his business” she answers calmly, ignoring the quirk in Steve’s brow, “Eto to, chto ya dumayu, prinadlezhit Sardzhentu Barnsu”

“Sargent Barnes?” Natasha echos, shock making her forget her place for once.

Rodgers snaps up in his seat, eyes suddenly trained in on the women-

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who he is” Y/N chides, “I know damn well you’ve both been tracking him for months-”

“You know Bucky?!” Steve demands in a hushed tone, acutely aware of their lack of privacy.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” she quotes, not bothering to hide her smirk.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Language” the women tease in unison.

Natasha has taken the minute of distraction to compose herself.

It’s hardly surprising Y/N has caught on to their lame attempts at locating the former assassin. They’ve been hacking into her tech after all-

“No offence” she chides, “but did either of you really think nobody was going to notice a bunch of Stark drones being deployed covertly with no authorisation? ”

It’s clear from Steve’s expression that that’s exactly what he’d thought.

“You’re lucky it was me who caught on” she says, “Tony would have put a stop to it pretty fast, y’know, he’s still a little sour about the whole he murdered our parents thing”

“Y/N/N” Steve begins, clearly desperate, “He didn’t know- there is no way Bucky would’ve-”

She raises a hand to silence him, nodding over at her brother who is still blissfully focused on the navigation software.

“You’ve been keeping him off our tracks” Natasha realises, blinking between the siblings, “You are the one that’s been helping me decrypt the security codes-”

Y/N just shrugs.

“You’re actually quite good” she comments, “for a field agent”

Natasha rolls her eyes, bumping her shoulder playfully.

Steve shifts anxiously on his seat clearly trying to process the information he’s just been hit with.

“If you” he begins, “If you’ve already been doin’ that, would- would you help us? I’m sure with you runnin’ some of the kit we track him down in-”

“I don’t need to track him down” Y/N says pleasantly, shutting her eyes, “I know exactly where he is”

Before either of the others could formulate a response, she’d put her headphones in, and was leaning back against the wall, seemingly serene.

Steve had festered for the entire journey back, sharing strained looks at Natasha who seemed to be utterly unwilling to share in his urgent need to do something.

Once they’d landed, Tony had rushed his sister down to their lab to run some tests on the things they’d brought back, and to update Banner who’d been staying behind with Clint.

Much to his continued dismay, Black Widow had only cautioned him against doing anything stupid where the Starks were concerned. Warning him that he was on thin ice with Tony already, and reminding him of the older man’s protective nature, when it came to his sister.

“But she knows Nat” he’d insisted, “she knows his name, she knew about the bridge, about what he said-”

“maybe” Natasha allows

“-How?! How the hell does she know about that” he half demands, “and how, has does she know ‘exactly where he is!?”

“I don’t kn-”

“Shocking” Y/N says, pushing the door to the room open with a smile on her face, “You’re in the dark about’ somethin’ Red? I’d never have believed it-“

Before the spy can react the teasing, Steve has reacted, he’s turned, jaw locked as he reaches out to grip her arm, hard enough to leave a bruise.

She stiffens at the sudden contact, and Natasha takes a step towards the pair.

Their eyes are locked together, Y/N looks almost curious by the boldness of the mans actions, but she can tell that he’s hurting her, even though she knows him well enough to be certain it’s not deliberate.

“Steve…” she cautions, astutely aware of the way that the other woman is assessing the scenario “let her go”

“Unless you want you and your old buddy to have a matching set” Y/N says, flicking a glance at his hand, “then I’d do what she says.”

Steve releases her instantly, ashamed of the way he’d acted on instinct, without considering how he much have hurt her in the process.

“I’m sorry” he says sincerely, taking a step back, “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know” Y/N accepts, damp hair falling in front of her face as she offers him an amused smile, “Don’t worry about it”

“Y/N/N” Nat begins, hopeful that if she can do the talking, they might stand a chance of leaving this interaction with more information then they’d started with, “You said you know where Barnes is located”

“I did” she agrees, leaning on the counter, “I do”

Steve watches her, body thrumming with adrenaline.

“How?” Nat presses, “we’ve been running drones-”

“I know what you’ve been doin’” she replies, “and don’t get me wrong, I love a satellite controlled drone as much as the next girl, but I’ve been takin’ a different approach in terms of gettin’ an updated location-”

“-and that is?”

“I called him a couple of days ago.”

Steve’s jaw drops open, Natasha’s locks shut.

Y/N looks at the duo, and her amusement visible shifts to something more akin to sympathy, when she sees how earnestly Steve wants information about his friend.

“He’s alright…” she offers, “… safe”

“He has a cell phone?” Nat mumbles, more annoyed at herself for not figuring that out, than she is absorbed in the nuance of the conversation

“He takes your calls?”

“Well yeah” Y/N replies to both of them, “I check in every now and then”

“You… check in, on the winter soldier?”

“Are we still calling him that?” she quips, turning to look at Natasha, “I mean, we can I guess, but it sounds a little formal don't you think? I usually stick with Bucky"

Steve is still speechless. He just blinks dumbly at the women for a second, thoughts racing.

“What?” Y/N chides, “You’re the only one allowed to make new friends?”

He runs a hand through his hair, starring at her again.

“Is that what you are? His friend?”

She thinks his tone is awfully protective, if a little suspicious. It doesn’t take her long to decide that it’s endearing, rather than offensive, so she offers him a smile before shrugging, and murmuring a “somethin’ like that” that makes Natasha scoff.

Another, longer silence fills the room. Nobody seems keen on breaking it, and the mutual air of acceptance that has come with it.

Steve isn’t sure why he trusts the woman’s intentions, but that doesn’t change the fact that he does.

Natasha has always loved Y/N. Their bond goes deeper and further back then any of the others know, so there was never any part of her that was going to risk upsetting her over a man she’s never spoken to.

“He’s expecting a call tonight” Y/N says finally, “I'll tell him you say hello”

The hope that flairs behind Steve’s eyes is sweet. He grins and takes a step towards her, he catches himself though, and slows his movements, feeling absurdly guilty about the way he’d greeted her earlier.

“I’m not giving you his number” she tells him firmly, with no hint of apology

“Please” he asks, feeling the optimism he’d been experiencing a moment ago dissipate like smoke, “Y/N-”

“I can’t” she replies, looking at the other woman for support, “He knows you’re looking for him, Steve, he knows where I live, I-”

“is he angry at me?”

“What?” both girls say in unison

“Why would he be angry at you?” Y/N asks, as Natasha offers her a confused glance.

“I- I left him, I-“

“You nearly died” Black Widow inserts, “He nearly killed you”

“That doesn’t matter Nat, I-”

“No” Y/N says calmly, “No Steve, he’s not angry with you- He’s-” she sighs, “He’s not angry at anybody”

“So why-”

“He’s scared, Steve” Natasha says, as if that answer had been obvious, “I mean can you blame the guy?”

Y/N averts her eyes, but it’s obvious from her expression that she agrees.

“I don’t-”

“God, Steve” the red head continues, "He's clearly running from something, and right now, my money's on us-”

“-Oh, god…”

Y/N looks up seeing, hearing the remorse in their voices.

“He’s fine” she repeats, “but he’s not ready for a reunion”

It looks like he might cry. She can barely handle it, so she moves in, closing the few steps between them, and pulls him into a hug.

He laughs into her shoulder, shocked at the contact, but not displeased. He holds onto her, before nodding when she pulls away.

“Would-” he sighs, clearly emotional, “Would’ya tell him, I’m- I’m sorry, I’ll- I’ll give him space, and I- I swear I never meant to make it any harder on him I just- I just miss him-”

“I’ll tell him, I promise”

He nods again, and reigns himself back in, the best he can, pawing at his face to stop tears from filling his eyes.

“So…” Nat begins, “…what did you bring back for him?”

Steve turns to face the spy, and then the Stark.

Y/N is grinning, as she pulls a silver chain from her pocket.

“What’s that?” Romanoff asks, looking at the dog tag that’s hanging from it almost suspiciously, “and why do you think it’s his?”

“Because it is” Y/N answers calmly, “Isn’t it?”

She hands it to Steve, who holds it like it’s fragile, like it’s precious, or like he’s worried it might disappear.

He turns the tag over in his fingers, looking at the familiar engraving with awe.

“It… that… that’s not possible”

“Clearly, it is” Y/N teases, taking it back from his hands, “He told me about it once, said he’d never taken it off before he fell- when I saw it in that drawer I figured I should probably get it back to him”

“We had them made” Rodgers says, “when we got him out of that camp, everyone was jokin’, said it was so if one of us got lost, we’d get brought back to the other”

“Where’s yours?” she asks, eying his baron neck,

“Somewhere at the bottom of the ocean.”

The sadness in his tone is heavy. It pulls at Y/N’s heart strings until one almost snaps in her chest.

“Well, maybe it’ll come back to you one day” is all she says, even though she feels like she owes him more than that.

He forces a chuckle and nods.

“How are you gonna get it to him?” he asks, clearly nervous, “it could get-”

“I’m going to hand it to him” she says, “I’m not going to risk sending it in the mail, Steve, I promise”

His curiosity is clearly sparked again, but this time, he bites his tongue.

The trust he’s putting in her is tangible. She offers him a smile, and tucks the necklace away.

“I’m gonna get back to T-” she announces, pressing a peck against Natasha’s cheek, “I’ll let you know how he’s getting on”

“We’ll stop the drones” the other woman offers,

“You don’t have to” Y/N replies over her shoulder, “they’re way off track”

Steve shakes his head, dismayed- earlier that week they’d been sure they’d gotten a lead in Budapest.

“We really weren’t ever close?” Nat asks, almost irritated

“No” she replies apologetically, “But if it helps, you were up against me, so you never really stood a chance”

“Careful, darlin” Steve cuts in, “you’re startin’ to sound-”

“Like an arrogant douche bag” Natasha finishes for him,

Y/N laughs, loud and hearty like her brother.

“Maybe it’s genetic” she suggests playfully, “Recklessness, Impulsivity, Arrogance, I’m sure Fury’s puttin’ a list together-”

x | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

[homestuckreplay]

Cursed By Zazzerpan To Take Webcomics Too Seriously

(page 472-483)

8/14/2009 Wheel Spin: Captchalogue Lore Verdict: Just Captchalogue, No Lore

8/15/2009 Wheel Spin: being silly :3c Verdict: Slimer Pogo Ride – Inherently Silly

The imps have STOLEN John’s clever disguise. >:( How could they do this. Aren’t their jester hats costume enough. When John says ‘they’re mucking up all my cool stuff!’ he is right and justified in being mad. What little control John ever had over his living environment has now been completely obliterated, the imps (and Rose) running rampant and using his home as their own personal playground.

Speaking of Rose, I was deeply struck by her total lack of regard for the monetary worth of a piano. Those things are expensive, and they’re not a standard thing for a house to have either! But this is not the first time Rose has thrown an expensive musical instrument around, as shown by her violin antics (p.236, 395) being more of an annoyance than a risk to a delicate possession. Knowing how rich her family is really explains why her response to destroying John’s house is a casual ‘Oops.’

We also get another moment of Rose dismissing John’s problems as not especially serious on p.478, when John says he was ‘hoping to avoid nanna and her spooky ghost cookies’ and Rose says ‘that does sound dumb.’ I know that Rose is speaking from her personal experience, but from an external reader’s perspective, if I am going to take it seriously that Rose’s mom might be an alcoholic and that Dave’s brother might be psychologically tormenting him with puppet tricks, then I am also going to take it seriously that John could have genuine trauma surrounding food. If he’s been forced to eat beyond his limits or eat food he doesn’t like all his life, that could definitely lead to a negative relationship with food, even if John’s dad and nanna are baking for him as an act of care.

EB: i'm not sure what came over me there, i was acting really crazy for some reason. EB: but my head feels like it's clearing up, i think i'm alright now.

This is the line that’s had me scratching my head and clenching my fists all of yesterday and today. I’m truly not sure what the intended tone is – if this is meant to be a joke, or a leading question about how exactly the control panels and possible time loops work, or a setup for a possible future where John does something really bad while being mind controlled by the Vagabond, or just a way for the author to justify any potential future out of character moments. I think I am biased towards reading this story in a serious and realistic way, and I think there’s lots of other valid ways it can be read, but from my personal reading this is existential horror, and more affirmations of John’s complete lack of free will and – importantly – his steadily growing awareness of this. I think a big part of his character progression so far is going from the vague and uncertain ‘something feels missing from your life’ to slowly being able to put words to his problems.

We actually learn a fair bit more about the rules, game logic and progression of Sburb in these pages, which I’m planning to lay out in its own post in the next few days. In contrast, we get no new information about the captchalogue and strife systems – it really feels like John’s passed that level now, and is able to do these things in the background without it interrupting the narrative. The same thing will probably happen with the imps after he’s got a few more kills.

I can’t figure out how to score points in the game on p.476 where we do sick pogo ride tricks as an imp (my high score is 551?) but I love it narratively. In the game we are definitely controlling the imp directly – there’s no indication that John or Rose have any hand in the imp’s antics - but in the text below, John is still addressed as the second-person ‘you’ and the line focuses on John’s own history with the ride. I like the suggestion that the imp is doing the same dangerous stunts that John once did, and the idea that there’s some parallels between John and the imp – both low level entities who are fundamentally at the mercy of the greater forces of Sburb, both clowns wearing disguises through circumstance instead of choice.

Anyway I am politely requesting that John check out the punch designix for real now.

[midnighttheroies]

Helluva Boss “He Can Get Hurt” Explained and In Defense Of The Newest Episode

so i was browsing on twitter after the new release of the newest episode, and alot of people where confused about blitz’s reaction to stolas being in the hospital, alot of people kept pointing out how stupid the line was, how it and how episode 4 sucks, ect, i even saw one comment about how helluva boss lost it’s charm?!!, and i’m here to show you exactly why none of that is true at all

1: “He Can Get Hurt” explanation

alot of people where confused by this line because in season 1 ep 5, blitz saved stolas by stopping striker when he was about to kill him, and in seas 1 ep 2, when he was stolas and octavia bodyguard, so the idea of stolas getting hurt shouldn’t be surprised and it was a stupid line

here’s why that’s wrong

blitz isn’t dumb, he is aware at the fact that yes demon royalty are targets for assassination and killings and such, but it’s not something that happens to often, also stolas is someone who always puts up a persona and front, he refused to break in-front of striker, and barely flinched when he was being stabbed with a holy weapons, blitz always viewed stolas an indestructible force, he’s seen was he’s capable of, and how powerful he is, stolas is an all powerful being, and because of how he always dismisses blitz’s rude taunts and remarks, blitz built an image in his head that stolas is someone who is incapable of truly getting hurt

until he did

when millie told him about how stolas got hurt badly, you can see the shock and almost denial on his face, and the “He Can Get Hurt” really sticks to you, because in that moment, when blitz found out stolas got hurt, it humanized stolas for him, it made him realize that stolas can be vulnerable, that he can get hurt, he’s not indestructible and he can die, and the possibility was higher then he thought, he could lose stolas, and that terrifies him, also the shock of something happening to someone you know, like the possibility of them getting hurt in such a way is always shocking, no matter what

2: “The R-word scene” 

if you guys remember when blitz was speaking with the drugged out goat lady, blitzo was stretching out the word and said “can’t say that anymore” some people had some issues with this, i however thought it was pretty funny, some people though were upset because the show is supposed to be offensive and they didn’t say the word so their for the show is doubling down on itself, first off the show is offensive, just because they censor or don’t say the word fully doesn’t mean it’s doubling down on itself!!, second, it was supposed to be a funny moment, to me it was supposed to be “breaking the fourth wall” kinda moment, like blitzo knows if he says that word he’s gonna get alot of hate, kinda like how brandon in real life doesn’t say the word in his most recent videos anymore like he used to, i also think it’s a little bit of a reference to that, and i think people took it way to much outta context, i think people are taking it way more seriously then it needs to honestly

3: “The show lost it’s charm, it’s like it doesn’t know the plot anymore ect”

first off, the show JUST started season 2, second, helluva boss is a slow pace, slow burn show, their isn’t supposed to be anything big major character/story development just yet, if you ask me, the show is only getting better and better, like ep 3 is by far their best episode, that episode alone changed my whole view on moxxie in the best way possible and puts season 1 ep 1 in a whole new different light

also another thing, helluva boss is a show where it goes into more depth and you have to look at things more then what your shown, the show is showing subtle hints here and their and you have to make it out, and i love that, it makes everything so much more interesting

also you can’t just judge a show when it just basically started and doesn’t even have an ending yet

2: “Blitz Defense”

alot, and i mean ALOT of people where quick to point out how much of an asshole blitz was to stolas within those text messages and just him in general, but people forget that blitz is like this as a way to protect himself, we’ve seen stolas at his most vulnerable moments, we know stolas loves blitz, but blitz himself doesn’t know that, to him, he’s stolas plaything, a sex toy, nothing more, he’s scared of loving people, he’s scared of intimacy because he’s afraid of getting hurt, so he pushes people away before they can hurt him, which is what he’s doing with stolas, because he doesn’t think stolas truly cares about him, and even though he tries to pretend he doesn’t, blitz does feel something for stolas, he cares about him, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have been worried about him over the phone and he sure as hell wouldn’t have sent a text message, i don’t know if i would say blitz loves stolas just yet, but i do think he at least likes him, i personally see this as a “stolas fell first but blitz fell harder” kinda thing

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 12. Richie Jerimovich

PROMPT is from here and I’m using: “What do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating?!”

A/N: it’s canon in my head that when richie is ready to find a new love interest that they will be plus sized idk that’s just what my brain tells me. This reader is also plus sized and could be a potential love interest but this falls in line of somewhat platonic?

WARNINGS: language, triggering matters such as ED, plus-sized reader, + some childhood verbal bullying.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊

Halloween or fall season wasn’t really Raquel’s joy. She was more of a Christmas girlie by all means but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t attempt some fall things. Take right now for example: she had her hands deep into the guts of a pumpkin, the stench of the vegetable almost made her gag and it happens every year where she’s reminded that she prefers dealing with squash much more. Yet here she was, scooping out the insides and allowing the stringiness to get caught underneath her tortoise nails; zoning out after browsing dreadful Facebook.

Raquel’s tunnel daze is dragged away after harsh kicks are sent right to her door. She’s blinking rapidly as she comes to terms that the sound is coming from outside and not from her head. The 5’10 woman pulls her hands from the pumpkin, ready to move over to the sink to rinse her hands quickly but settles for wiping them on her half apron, then jogs over to the door.

“Who is it?” Raquel questions, disliking that she doesn’t have a peephole but is aware that she could lean over her couch to peer out the window.

The reply is instant but muffled, “your best dream come true! C’mon it’s me, open up!”

Raquel smiles at this, “sorry. I don’t know anyone by, ‘c’mon it’s me!’ Maybe you have the wrong house?”

“The same house that I’ve been over a jillion times before?! I don’t think so sweetheart.”

“If you been here before, how come you don’t have a key?” Raquel continues to play along.

Richie huffs, “I can barely keep up with my own keys so we both know giving me another would probably be a lost cause.”

Raquel unlocks the door soon after and welcomes the fresh 62 degree weather of the early afternoon in before her friend. “Richard, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

In richie fashion, he barges into the condo, kicks squeaking against wood laminate floors as he enters, holding a plastic bag up in the air for the dark haired woman to see. Closing the door behind him, Raquel spins on her fuzzy socks to follow richie right to the eighty-eight square feet modern kitchen.

“Those stools still haven’t come in?” Richie states the obvious as he eyes the outside of the bare counter.

Raquel sighs, “they’re now apparently on back order but it took me to contact them in order to get that information.”

“Shit,” Richie comments, “told you just to cancel the order, get your money back, and we can go down to TJMAXX to get a way better steal than what you probably paid for two of those chairs.”

It’s funny how richie used to give Raquel crap for her weekend errands and now he didn’t mind attending when he could.

Raquel leans her elbows against the counter with a smirk, “that maybe true but I wanted quality over bargaining.”

Don’t take this the wrong way, she had plenty of decor pieces that she just purchased from that exact store but she wanted something a little more upscale since she didn’t exactly have the space in this condo to make a formal dining area. A friend suggested getting a round table to place towards the path of the walkway from the entrance but Raquel decided against that since she didn’t want the second bedroom to be blocked whenever company exited.

Although it was only Raquel and her gray hairless Sphynx, Archibald. Majority of the time Raquel was traveling to other events and her friends’ home and rarely had gatherings at her place. Perhaps it had to do with her own trust issues after facing a break-in last year at her old apartment prior but Raquel was fine with forming a shell around herself.

It was necessary yet that shell came down a bit whenever Richie was around.

“Ah, Suit yourself!” Richie pulls out the items he’s brought with him, “anyway! I brought over some goods for your Sunday dinner.”

Raquel quirks up a brow, “you did?”

“Oh please, don’t look so shocked.” Richie peers over at the woman who grins at him, “it’s nothing big just some shit I got on my evening with Chef Terry, Garrett, and Jessica.”

Raquel sat up some, reaching to move the empty bag to the side now to eye the objects near by. She picks up a jar first and nods, “mint-jelly? Let me guess, some if not all of these things are things you tried but ended up hating.”

Richie rolls his eyes, knowing he’s been caught. “Whatever! I asked Syd what the purpose of that shit was after Chef Terry recommended it and Syd said it pairs well with certain meats and I know lamb is actually one of your favorites so I thought of you.”

Raquel bares her teeth into her bottom lip as she cracks the jar open, sniffing at the sweet but tart aroma and shrugs, “well thanks for thinking of me, rich. I’ll definitely try this out next time I make lamb.”

She steps towards him to peck him on the cheek and Richie fans her away as she goes back to look at the other objects.

“What’re we having tonight then if it’s not your best dish?!” Richie starts swinging his hands back and forth, then scrunched his nose up after noticing the pumpkin, “please don’t tell me it’s that bullshit over there?”

Raquel glances at the pumpkin and laughs to herself, “no. That’s solely for decor purposes only.”

“Oh thank fuck, I thought you were gonna tell me you’re obsessed with all things pumpkin now and then I was gonna have to cancel your ass.” Richie wiped the faux sweat from his brow as he turns, arms hunched behind him as if he’s ready to launch himself up onto the counter.

Raquel sends him a warning glance and Richie scoffs, choosing to pick the charcoal gray sectional in the adjacent living room instead.

“You could never cancel me, Richard.” Raquel informs as she places the new items into their designated spots before turning back to wash her hands, “you love me too much.”

Richard tilts his head before reaching for the remote, “yeah I do, so don’t you forget it.”

Raquel sends him a soft smile which Richard holds dear to his heart with his wide blues, before flicking the tv on, making himself right at home.

And it’s just like any other typical Sunday, with Richie coming over to watch some game Raquel didn’t care about but would still be near, either doing her “grandma activity,” which was cross-stitching or commenting here and there (while cooking) after finding out which team they should be rooting for. When commercial breaks start, Raquel is just finishing up the last pumpkin she’s been working on to place on the outside of her front door.

She waves at a neighbor, Antanios who lives on the top floor and lived here the longest with his teenage grandson (after his mother passed), who’s sitting on the shared patio set reading the newspaper.

“Looks nice, Azizi. Can’t wait to see what you do for Christmas.” The elderly man comments with a wink, playfully glancing upwards towards the second floor, where your other neighbor, Clarise—who was in her mid-fifties; who Raquel playfully called her auntie—liked to battle her with the outdoor decor whenever Christmas came around.

Thankfully Raquel found peace in this neighborhood and with solid neighbors. Although she was youngest here—not counting Antanios’ grandson Elias, she found a sense of belonging here like she never did before.

Raquel smiles at the man, “and I can’t wait for your review.”

Antanios dips his head, turning his attention back to the newspaper. He was always the one to settle the score and was always fair, which was humorous in a way considering he was a retired district attorney. It was only right in Raquel and Clarise’s eyes to have Antanios tell it to them straight.

“Tell Richard I said hello.” Antanios said, keeping his eyes on his paper.

He was a quiet but observant man who noticed it all. However it was no secret that Richie was one of the main ones that always kept coming around to visit the tenant on the last floor.

“Hey Antanios!” Richie yelled from the couch before Raquel closed the door, but not without seeing the man smirking to himself.

“Uh hello! I was just about to have a conversation with my favorite person at this place.” Richie frowned as Raquel laughed at him.

“I’ll save him the trouble,” Raquel stated as she went back into the kitchen, “and Archibald and I definitely take offense to that.”

Richie doesn’t flinch as the mentioned cat jumps onto the arm of the chair by his head, arms making room for the gray cat to make themself comfortable right on his chest.

Richie scratches the animal, “Why? Antanios is my guy! I have real conversations with that man when I crash here and you fall asleep on me! It’s like you always think he’s not listening but he’s got wisdom like he’s fucking buddha or something.”

Raquel nods at that but can’t help but to snort, “is this your way of telling me I should get you a Buddha necklace for Christmas this year since you found your calling and all that?”

Richie thinks about this, “I mean shit, I’d wear it but don’t think I’m gonna be out here bald like this uncooked cat here.”

“Don’t talk about my baby like that.” Raquel warns.

Archibald meows and Richie laughs, “he knows it’s all love but he’s definitely given me a few heart attacks sneaking up on me during the night.”

Richie’s never had a pet before in his life so he really didn’t know what he was missing. Now he has Raquel in his life and Eva’s been over a few times before which sparked her interest in getting a hamster or bunny. Tiffany was against it because she felt that would be more work for her but richie just wanted to make his little girl happy and believed if you taught Eva how to tend to it, she would do a good job. She just had to find her footing is all and Richie felt there wasn’t anything wrong with that. Which is exactly why he was setting some money aside to get whichever one Eva chose.

“Bacon and spinach stuffed chicken or honey glazed salmon,” Raquel clapped to get Richie’s attention after he dived back into the game.

Richie took his time answering, “huh? Uh, the chicken.”

It’s Raquel’s turn to hum at him but soon another commercial comes on, making Richie annoyed as he jumps to his feet. When he faces Raquel he notices that she’s got her attention on her phone while still holding the packages of meat.

“Fucking commercials are killing me!” Richie hisses as he makes his way into the kitchen to raid the fridge for a beverage.

He cracks open the soda and sips from it, then plucks the salmon from Raquel’s hand to place back into the fridge. Which was always fully stocked despite the fact that she was constantly traveling every other weekend being a web designer. It wasn’t unusual for Raquel to get quiet on Richie but the zoning out was what become concerning, especially when he snapped his fingers in front of her face to not receive any answers.

It wasn’t until he yanked up her phone to bring it to his attention. Richie looks at the photo of some lady named: Brooke Weisel-Heeni who has her hand resting on a very large baby bump in a wedding dress followed by a large sized wedding ring and another set of hands covering her’s. Richie didn’t have time to read the caption before Raquel snatched the phone back to place face down.

“You never told me how dinner went with the michelin crew? Any progress with Jess?” Raquel says, suddenly back down to earth as she moves to search the kitchen to cut open the package of chicken.

Richie blinks, “we can get into that later. Who’s this Brooke lady that you were cyber stalking?”

“If I wanted to stalk somebody, she would be my last choice.” Raquel retorts making Richie quirk up his brows.

Richie silently thinks to himself on how to approach this. Clearly there was something touchy about this Brooke person and he didn’t like how Raquel was moving about it either.

“Okay…then…how do you know her?”

Raquel shrugs her shoulders, “we went to middle and high school together and remained friends—Facebook friends.”

Richie sips from the can, “just Facebook official, I get it. So…was there beef I need to know about? Do I gotta hate the lady too?”

That earns a crooked smile from Raquel.

“I’m thirty-three years old! What am I doing being still hung up about how she treated me back then?! Especially since I considered her a friend in middle school. Yes, kids can be some motherfuckers but I mean people can change and you grow right? But I don’t like that I’m feeling a way seeing this hard launch of a wedding and pregnancy.” Raquel starts to vent but Richie feels he’s still missing out on the context.

One thing about Raquel is that she only lets, “motherfucker,” slip out is when she’s highly frustrated about something. So richie knew this was serious business.

“Hey, I’m not judgin’,” Richie raises his hands, “I’ve got, I think two assholes that neither Mikey and I were cool with back in the day on my page but that other assclown? Griffin Georgiou?! Yeah! He tried to add me, ripped him a new one and blocked him immediately after he kept trying to go back and forth wit me.”

Raquel sighed with her head thrown back, making Richie nudge her with the back of his hand, “if you wanna talk about it, lay it on me. If you don’t, then we move on but I’ll lock in that this Brooke lady is on my shit list.”

It’s the fact that she’s getting choked up talking about this, that doesn’t sit right with Richie. However he knows boundaries and realizes not to push them when they came to Raquel. So he eyes her as she’s on autopilot, getting ready to prepare the Sunday dish. It’s silent besides the football game on the tv and he moves beside her, watching her and picking up on what he can do to help prepare dinner.

“…what’s on the agenda for Halloween?” Richie changes the subject, “I hope you got the good shit for the little rascals and also for me because I’m definitely coming over later to eat your stash!” Richie tells the friend beside him as he works on cleaning the spinach.

Raquel lifts her shoulders, “I uh—haven’t thought much about it? Probably get off work just to head over to the bar or go to the bar after work and come home to have a chill night in or give to the kids.”

“Sounds good to me,” Richie replies, “let me know if you decide to give candy because Eva and I will definitely roll through.”

Raquel let’s a small smile greet her lips. She was glad that richie was making the effort to be a better parent to his child and attempting not to create the same disruptive pattern his parents had him in. Eva’s a bright girl, a little on the shy side but as soon as Raquel brought out a mini water color kit that she had stored away for traveling purposes, Eva seemed to lighten up.

“Aw! Let me guess? She’s going as Taylor Swift?”

“BOOM! You got it!”

“Which era?”

“The fact that you know that’s a thing when you’re not a swiftie is impressive.” Richie comments, making Raquel roll her eyes.

Richie laughs a little, “Eva’s doing the lover era. Lots of colors, which I’m not surprised considering I have a little artist on my hands. Tiff’s going for—I think she said evermore.”

Raquel nods, a smile twitching on her lips as if she knows much about either, “and what’re you going for?”

“Do I go with fearless or 1989? But make it manly since I got to keep my street cred high,” Richie puffs out his chest which makes Raquel pull a mocking face, “and risk the chance of scaring my child with adding horror elements to that theme while potentially pissing her mother off? Or do I not dress up for trick or treating?” Richie rambles, which means he’s given this some thought.

Raquel speaks, “I don’t know…isn’t one of the points of trick or treating supposed to be getting dressed up? I’ve never been.”

Richie almost drops the bowl of cream cheese, spinach, mozzarella, and spices mixture that the chicken is supposed to be stuffed with, “What do you mean you’ve never gone trick-or-treating?!”

Raquel glances over her shoulder hearing the oven beep, signaling that the oven was set at the right temperature. “It wasn’t something that was encouraged for me. I didn’t really get to celebrate Halloween like the other kids or even my older brother, who was the popular kid.”

“Why?”

“A combination of things: Brooke, my Bulimic mother, my weight.”

Richie deeply exhaled.

“Sixth grade. I was always heavier than everyone else, always at the doctor to make sure I didn’t have any medical conditions that contributed to it but my pediatrician always reassured that it’s just baby fat and that it would fluctuate once I grew, story of my life!” Raquel humorlessly laughed, “as if my father didn’t come from that same body type. I was never overweight but the minute you’re not petite or shaped like a pencil in anyone else’s eyes, you’re fat and disgusting. Anyways the short story? Brooke and I were friends in middle school, she was having a Halloween party after going trick or treating. She said she forgot to give me an invitation and was about to give it to me in class but the other girls that she already invited said they wouldn’t want a piggy to eat all of their candy if I came. Know what Brooke did? Laughed right with them and kept my invitation in her backpack. I cried about it for the rest of the day and when I got home to tell my mom about it she said to me, ‘well if you wore clothes that actually fit then maybe they wouldn’t say those things to you.’”

Richie clenched his eyes shut, “that’s so fucked up and I’m sorry those turds made you feel that way! You know none of that negative bullshit is true then or now? They’re the ones who missed out on having a good person in their lives. Screw ‘em!”

Raquel rolls the tension from her shoulders, “Thanks for saying that. It’s something I’m always working on and loving this body that’s been given to me. And this isn’t some pity thing I’m trying to throw out there because I love who I am. It’s just seeing her face after all this time—I’m hardly on Facebook—pop back up on my feed caught me completely off guard.”

“Trust me, I get it.” Richie reassures, “…did she ever apologize?”

“Yup when we were both in our second year of college. Two Ohioan girls in New York, me in NYU and her at Brown University. She felt the need to update me about her college experience in the DM by the way, I never asked. I feel like she only apologized because of my friend Tommy though. He’s…unhinged. But I left her on read too which didn’t make me feel any better…but enough of my childhood trauma! Tell me about Michelin.” Raquel used the back of her hand to wipe at her damp eyes.

Richie ignores this and questions, “you wanna go trick or treating with me and Eva?”

“Huh?”

“You’re going!” Richie decides for Raquel who frowns.

“I can’t do that,” Raquel quickly shakes her head, “don’t know if you noticed but I’m grown now.”

Richie scoffs after eyeing Raquel’s profile, “oh I’ve noticed sweetheart…but Isn’t that what they say about adulthood, that you’re supposed to heal your inner child or whatever?”

“Where’s Richie and what have you done with him?” Raquel scanned the room with a hand above her brow.

Richie elbows her as they both share a laugh.

After awhile Raquel claims, “I don’t even have a costume or idea.”

“I mean…you could always join the era’s tour.” Richie kept a straight face as he peered over at Raquel who scrunched up her nose, “C’mon Rocky! Be one of us! There’s even friendship bracelets.”

“No, thank you.”

Richie began to move in a body roll as he screams, “'Cause we nеver go out of style, we nеver go out of style!”

Raquel widens her eyes in horror, “Oh god, what are you doing? Stop that and please sing anything else!”

“Okay.” Richie thinks to himself before belting, “Cause when you're, fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them!”

Raquel flinches as Richie’s voice booms off the walls of her condo, “I think we found which era you should really be. You felt that in your soul didn’t you?”

Richie clears his throat, “yeah, I think so but I don’t want anymore of your haterade when we come scoop you up. I’ve been growing out my hair too so maybe fearless is the best era to go with after all.”

“Did Jessica convince you to dye it blond too?” Raquel teased, peeking at Richie’s hair that did look a bit fuller compared it’s usual buzzed cut—now that he pointed it out.

Richie frowns over at Raquel, “damn you’re being nosy about Jessica!”

“Hey no need to get defensive,” Raquel smirked, “I’m just trying to see if you picked up on any vibes.”

Richie sucked his teeth, “I’m picking up on you scrambling around from choosing a damn costume!”

“I really don’t want to impose on you and Eva’s quality time.”

“What?! That kid loves you. Not as much as her old man but she likes you because she knows you and I are great together—the best of friends!”

“Don’t tell Fak that, he might get jealous.”

Richie scoffs, ready to toss a spinach stem her way, “as long as you don’t tell this Tommy person that.”

Raquel snorts, “believe me, Tommy does not give a damn who I keep around as long as they don’t mess with me or his business.”

It was apparent to Richie that Raquel only casually mentioned this Tommy person from time to time and he’s met her other friend, co-workers, and even her arrogant older brother but Tommy seemed to be this sort of invisible force that Richie never had the chance to meet.

Richie could live with that as long as he didn’t bring any trouble to Raquel’s door.

She already had Richie right by her side for some good trouble whenever she needed him and it had to be vice versa on Raquel’s end too right?

Well…a decade of friendship regardless of their age gap solidified that as Richie tossed a wrist over Raquel’s shoulder to place a kiss to her temple which she leaned into.

Her own personal safety net, which was never too far from her reach.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚

Read my final 2023 fall prompt here.

[sunwarmed-ash]

Heyoooo Happy Monday!

Did yall read last nights Sinful Sunday update? its here if you didn't get a chance yet!

I also got tagged by @lizzy0305 for WIP Wednesday Monday!

WIP MONDAY

Detroit Become Human, Hurt/Comfort, Sad Gavin Reed, HankCon established, previous Hankvin, eventual Hankconvin

My love language is misery: (Ch 3 preview)

It's silent in the car since Connor and Hank left the station to go check on Gavin.  According to Detective Chen, the younger Detective had left work shortly after their ‘interaction’ outside the breakroom. Mentioning something about needing a change of clothes before walking out. Hank and Connor were quick to follow him out the doors and Connor’s earlier worry only compounded the longer they traveled.  “To answer your question from earlier, about me and Gavin having a relationship. sorta.”  “Sorta how?” Connor asks, needing to know everything to sort out a best course of action to help Gavin.  Hank exhales through his nose and keeps his eyes forward out the windshield.  “Before everything went to shit, and before me and Annie got together again. When we were both young and single, and fuckin’ everythin’ that moved… We hooked up, few times. But I thought- He never mentioned…” Hank huffs a little, struggling to find the right words, “I didn't think it was more than that… Always thought we were just playin’ but, what he said yesterday… haven't been able to get it out of my head since.” Connor analyzes Hank's increase in blood pressure and stress and places his hand on Hank’s knee in comfort.  “What did he say?”  Hank takes one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze it before returning his hand to its previous position on the wheel.  “That I only want him when I can’t have him. Specifically, when I’m already with someone else. I don't know, I guess, now that I look back and think about it, I can see why he said it. I’ve never been very good at maintaining personal ‘relationships.’” “I don't know, I'd say this relationship is going quite well,” Connor smiles. It eases enough of the tension hanging in the car and Hank chuckles.  “Yeah, I think that’s sorta the problem.” “He perceives me as a threat,” Connor interprets. “Big time.” “I see.” “We’ve always had a, complicated, relationship, Gav and I. But he's got some of his own additional demons on board. I think that might be what’s fucking him up now. Especially since uh, we aren't doing to much to hide our relationship at work.” “Yes, perhaps we have been playing a little ‘fast and loose’ with that line,” Connor agrees.  “Mmm,” Hank agrees. A few moments of silence pass in the car and then Connor has to ask,  “What happened to him?” Hank’s next exhale is obviously conflicted.  “Can’t tell ya that, I’m afraid. Sorry Con. It's his business, nothing personal. I just wouldn't feel right.” “I understand,” Connor says, because he does. No unintended subtext. PTSD is something Connor is intimately familiar with now, and he wants to come across as non threatening as possible tonight. “Are there any general things I should be aware of? I don't want to unintentionally set off an attack.”  “Just, follow my lead. And let him come to you. When he’s dissociating, he can’t always see what's going on in front of him.” More pieces slid into place for Connor with that confession.  “Like this morning, in the breakroom.” “Yeah, exactly.” It’s quiet another moment and then Connor says,  “He’s lucky to have someone like you Hank,” because he means it. Gavin doesn’t have a lot of friends at the DPD thanks to his almost 24/7 sour mood. And after today, he could probably use one.  Hank scoffs a little disbelievingly at Connor’s praise but meets him in the middle with,   “Yeah well, hopefully we can at least convince him to accept our help.”

@sweeteatercat @treeffles @disdaidal @tradedsymmetry @covenscribe @advictoriams @negative-citadel @writerwhowritesao3 and anyone else who wants to!! Have a great day everyone, I'm gonna try and get some sun today!

[nkirukaj]

Fawning for You (5)

Pairing: Alastor x Voe (Fem!OC)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Angst (& Humor!)

Word Count: 2.7K

5. Anti-Hero

Alastor plops down at the bar and rubs his forehead “Give me a glass of Cyanide Husker,”

Husk looks around in slight panic “Uh sorry Boss but there’s no more,”

Alastor turns menacingly toward the cat “What do you mean?”

“We’re all out,”

“How is that possible?”

“Someone else drank it, Boss,”

“Who exactly?”

Husk doesn’t want to give her up, but he knows what happens if he gets Alastor mad “Voe,”

Alastor squeezes and breaks the glass that he’s holding, letting the shards pierce his skin and his blood leak onto the counter. This doe would be the death of him. Well, the second death of him.

“Is there something you wanna talk about Boss?” Husk questioned as he cleaned up the blood pool

Alastor ignored the blood continuing to drip from his hand and stood up, fixing his coat. “Not at all Husker, not at all,” he simply walks away letting the blood drip all over the floor

Alastor wasn’t sure how to feel at this moment. The only emotion that he could recognize was anger, but there was something in there that he had never felt before, and it was something hard to describe. She had always been able to get him to feel new things, something like anger, but feeling like he may yearn for her presence sometime down the line. He dreaded the thought and the feeling while cursing her for making him feel things he wasn’t aware that he could. And damn it, she drank his drink!

Voe met the cannibals at the theater bright and early. In fact, she had gotten there before them because she was so excited to start working. With Charlie and Lucifer’s donations, she had been able to buy a suitable abandoned building that wasn’t in awful shape. Of course, it could still use some love, but that’s what she was here for!

“So what’s the job boss lady?” Rosie asked her once she let them in

Voe clutches her clipboard against her chest “Today we’re just going through the building and seeing what needs to be fixed. That way I can know all the issues beforehand and order supplies and such all at the same time. Okay? Okay!”

She had known that this would be a lot of work, but she wasn’t prepared for how much walking she had to do. In hindsight, she probably shouldn’t have worn Mary Jane heels, but she’d needed the confidence boost. Apparently, the original carpets were ripped and stained in about 10 different places, the seats were red and busted apart, backstage was dusty and the pulley system was jammed, the bathrooms were disgusting, with broken toilet seats and hair-jammed sinks. And saving the best for last there was no stage. Where the stage was supposed to be was a giant hole. 

Voe writes this all down on her clipboard, scrunching her brow in focus and concentration when Rosie approaches her. 

“Wow Miss Boss lady, I’ve never seen you like this before,”

She looks up slightly startled “Oh, well yeah I’ve never been this busy,”

“So when you’ve got something to do, you spend less time doing wrong?”

Voe blushes slightly “Yeah, I guess so. Something about knowing where this is going, what it will be, and what it will do, just fills me with a sense of purpose. It means so much to me,”

Rosie smiles “Enough purpose to stay out of trouble?”

Voe nods “Yeah, just enough,”

“Good! We don’t need you doing any more’Spy work’ for anybody else,”

Voe blushes again “I’m past that. I…think I’m becoming someone else,”

“Glad to hear it! I also hear that you’re interested in becoming an Overlord?”

“How did you hear that?”

Rosie shrugs “People talk. Now for some advice, in my particular situation, you have to be trustworthy. You have to get sinners to trust you and you have to take their trust and cradle it like it’s a baby. So that might be a bit of a long road for you unless you want to be a different type of Overlord,”

Voe shakes her head “No, I want to be trustworthy,”

Rosie nods in approval “Good. Then it’s going to take a lot of back-breaking work on your part, but,” She leans down “I think you can do it,”

“Me too,”

Rosie stands back up straight nodding once more “And that’s where it starts,”

___________________________________

“Stop guys I don’t do that stuff anymore. I’m on the up and up now,” Voe tells the live as she lines her almond-shaped eyes.

you don’t have to lie girlfriend

buuuulllll shit!

mmhmm 😂

They were once again referring to the shady deeds she had done on behalf of the Vees. Voe wished that people would stop bringing those up, she felt awful every time someone referenced it, especially Alastor. But she also understood that she made her choices and she can’t undo them. That’s all she would be known as, at least until this theater was complete. And you know what? She should feel awful, it was an awful thing to do and her feeling shitty about it was a sign of her growth as a person. But nobody likes to feel shitty.

“Can we please talk about something else? You guys asked me to show you how I do my makeup and now y’all aren’t even paying attention! If you keep this up you won’t get to see how I do my goddess highlight because I will turn the live right off!”

like you did a bit ago?? 😭

ran like a COWARD

“Yup one thing about me is, Imma leave. And that’s on period!” she swipes her hand across her throat

you should talk about the radio demon

yeA!!

TELL US MORE ABOUT ALASTOR

“No, I’m not going to do that. He asked me not to talk about him anymore,”

SINCE WHEN HAS THAT STOPPED YOU BEFORE LMAOOOO

TBH tho 😭😭😭😭😭

“I know, but it’s stopping me now. I will be respecting his wishes,”

boring

booo

be the MESSY BITCH YOU WEERE MEANT TO BE

The viewer count on her live drops dramatically, hitting Voe like s semi-truck, however, she does not react facially, only saying “Welp, guess they don’t want to see the highlight then. Nobody wants to see the way I make myself look ethereal? You guys left know that I’m not a gossip influencer right?”

yeah we know

i’m here for the makeup

do you boo boo

you still wanna be an overlord ?

“Yes I do! Thank you! I question I can answer!”

then don’t let em see you sweat babes!

________________________________________

Morning breakfast was cooked by Alastor of course, and due to her live, she came down after everyone else had been served. When she approached the kitchen Alastor’s eye began twitching again.

“Hmm,”

“Good morning,” she told him

Alastor emits a low level of static. Good morning? What the fuck was that supposed to mean. She was playing with him, she had to be.

“I can serve myself if you like,” she says

“Of course! Help yourself, just like you did to my drink!”

She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow “Hmm?”

Alastor squints “My drink, dear. Cyanide? Ring any bells?”

Her eyes widen “Oh! Husk gave me that cuz I felt crappy. I didn’t know it was yours until after I finished it. I’m sorry,”

His eye twitches further as he moves out of the way to let her get food. He stares down at her as she does. Did she think they were just going to move past everything she had done? A few polite words and all was bliss. Absolutely not, not if Alastor had any say in it. And he did.

She was the first to raise her hand during Charlie’s activity this morning, which was just to tell everyone what their plans were for the day and how they felt about them

“I’m going to head over to the theater and check everything to make sure I make the proper alterations so it can be to my liking. I am so excited If I’m being honest, I can’t believe this is really happening!” she lets out an excited bleat and flaps her hands

“I’m excited for you. Thank you Voe! That was lovely!”

“Also I’ve already told your dad, but thank you for your donation as well!”

“No problem Voe! I love this new you!”

Voe blushes very cutely “Me too,” and sits down

Did she think this cutesy act would make everyone forget the kind of person she was? She was a ferocious and deadly woman! To bodies…and hearts. Alastor shook his head, slipping out 

“Hmm so ecstatic, you’d think you were headed to the Vees,”

Everyone stares at him and Voe’s blush grows darker and she slumps into her seat

“Alastor…” Charlie says 

Vaggie shakes her head “Unnecessary,”

“What? I just made an observation,”

“We all know about her past actions, but reminding her of them constantly is helpful to exactly no one,” Vaggie “She can’t grow if we don’t let her,”

Voe smiles softly “Thanks Vaggie,”

Vaggie gives her a thumbs-up and a smile. 

“Hey!”

Alastor turns around, seeming curious “Hmm?”

Voe approaches him, a storm in her eyes “Why would you embarrass me like that?” He looks down at her “I don’t know, why would you embarrass me on a much larger scale?”

She turns her head down and closes her eyes “I’m not like that anymore,” she looks back up “Everyone seems to believe in me but you!”

“Because none of them have felt the damage of your deeds firsthand, now have they?”

She puts her hand on her forehead “Ugh I know!”

“But do you know my dear? I’ve felt your damage twice now, all in the name of your own interests,”

“Look, I am sorry, I am so sorry for hurting you. I’ve told you so many times. I don’t know what you want me to do now! You won’t talk to me! What do you want? Alastor leans down and picks up his cane “I want everyone to simply know what you are. You have them fooled, but not me. Remember, I know you. You’re a fiery, uncontrollable, ball of destruction, uncaring of who you hit with your passion,” Voe was unsure if she was being complimented or insulted. “If anything, I’m helping them to not get burned,”

She flattens her brows “Oh how altruistic,”

He places his cane back on the ground, standing straight up “Indeed,”

“Look, Alastor, like I said, I can’t know what you want if you don’t talk to me. Does embarrassing me make you feel better?”

No.

“Indeed it does,”

She sighs “Okay, whatever makes you happy, Alastor,” she says as though she is not mad, but simply disappointed

Well, that hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to, what was wrong with her? Where was the fight he had grown so accustomed to? Did she not care about this at all anymore? When looking up, he noticed another sinner, a siren, staring after Voe. Alastor merely squints his eyes and dissipates in deep-seated fury.

Voe hauled herself back to the theater. She knew that she had just been there with the cannibals, but something called her there. Another thing that she wanted for this place was an office for herself, so she wouldn’t have to stay at the hotel all day. Normally she would have loved to stay at home and work there, but it had gotten difficult to be around Alastor when he insisted on punishing her for something she’d thought he’d already forgiven her for.

She sets up her camera and her laptop and hits record.

“Welcome to my newest project. Theater saves souls and if it doesn’t save yours, then you’re doing it wrong,” 

The comments were not kind. 

that shit DUSTY

dirty af

she finna get tentanus 

But some were actually good ideas.

throw another party in the theater!

yea but clean that shit up first

Parties were kind of her thing. She liked the comment and put her phone away. She sat in a not-broken chair simply going through the list on her clipboard and ordering all the things she had written down the day before. Despite all the dust and dirt everywhere, she felt like she was in the right place. Though she knew that in a few she would start to feel all the bacteria on the ground and in the air. Each order she made felt closer and closer to this dream. She sneezed and dust flew off the seat, yes she was gonna need a shower after this.

___________________________________

“How ya feeling?” Angel asked, slipping into her room

Voe pulls up her pajama pants “Clean after being in the dust-infested theater, why what’s up?”

Angel smiles “That’s not what I was talking about,”

“What were you talking about?”

‘The thing Smiles said?”

Voe seems confused for a moment before she remembers what Angel was talking about “Oh! That! Yeah well,” she shrugs

“How’d’ya feel about it?”

“I feel like if he needs to insult and embarrass me to make himself feel better then he’s pathetic,”

Angel gives her a high-five “That’s what I’m talking about. Forget Alastor, he’s old news,” 

Voe lays back on her bed “I feel like I’m just working, is that bad?”

“No, but maybe you take some time to do non-work stuff?”

She sits back up “Like?”

Angel gives her a big grin

“What?” she scrunches her brows

“Fucking,”

She rolls her eyes and pushes him away “Oh gosh Angel,”

“I’m serious, when’s the last time you’ve had a good fucking?”

She stops and thinks “With the Vees,”

Angel is perplexed “Really? Shit! Is it cobwebs down there?”

Voe blushes “What? No!”

“Well, it will be if you don’t use it. Damn Alastor was careless,”

“That’s not fair. He doesn’t have a strong libido,”

“But he knows that you do, he don’t gotta dick you down to get you off,”

Voe squints in thought, Angel did have a point.

“Don’t make excuses for him! You deserve better,”

She stands up “Yeah, I do!”

“So go get it!

Voe glances over her shoulder at Angel with seductive eyes “I will,”

“I did a 360, now I’m back on my bullshit!” She said to her live She modeled her pink low cut back out mini dress and her hot pink pumps. “I’m going on a date, and I’m going to get fucked”

you mean fucked up??

“Nope!” she grins at the camera cackling. 

And she did, day after day, she was at the theater, and night after night she was in a mini dress and heels that ended up on the floor of someone’s apartment. Every morning when she did her yoga, she made sure that her split was on point so she could be ready for anything. Keeping herself and her day full worked wonders, but she still preferred spending time at the theater. So after weeks of having a new date every night, she decides to just relax inside her new project, waiting for the materials to arrive. She flexed and pointed her foot inside of her baby pink wedges as she waited. She ate her lunch out in the lobby so she wouldn’t miss the delivery or the cannibals helping them set up. Honestly, just sitting there was enough to entertain her, she thoroughly enjoyed this entire process. There was a knock on the door, which she was expecting, but who was behind it was not.

“Hello,” it was a male siren with grayish-blue skin and frosty white hair. Yellow eyes, and a pointy tail. 

Voe tilts her head “Yes?”

“I’m Casper and I live at the Hotel with you. I’ve been watching you for a bit,”

She squints “What an odd thing to say,”

He scratches the back of his neck “Yeah sorry, but I just wanted to offer my services working on the theater. I could be like your assistant or something if you’d like,” 

“Why?” she raises a brow

“I really love theater, even when I was alive,” he gives a shy grin

“And what do you want in return?” She crosses her arms

He looks around “Honestly?” she nods “I just want to be around you. I’m kind of a super fan. I just want to breathe your air,” he chuckles nervously

She squints skeptically, saying nothing before he speaks again.

“I’ll even give you my soul,”

Voe’s eyes widen in disbelief “Really? Just like that?”

He nods “Yes,”

She stares up at him through her lashes “Okay then Casper, give me your soul,”