#I'M SO MAD. tailor made for me.

[aromanticasterisms]

i would like to apologize for being predictable

[phyrexian-mama]

People are real fast to blast Amazon and Shein and Walmart, to talk about Fast Fashion and abused workers

But something you have GOT to realize is that things are expensive to make. The whole reason Mom & Pop stores were able to be bullied out of cities and towns when stores like Walmart started to crop up in the first place is because they sell cheaper than is realistic. They do it by underpaying the people making their stuff, and by using and shitty quality in materials.

You want a handknit sweater that isn't going to fall apart after one year? You're going to have to get okay with the fact that you're going to be spending $100 for it, or learn to do it yourself.

And this applies to everything, it isn't just crafting. Do you like playing board games? Card games? TTRPGS? If you live in a city, chances are there's at least one gaming store that sells that stuff around the general MSRP. 'Well, Amazon sells it for half as much' Amazon isn't giving jobs directly to people in your community. Amazon isn't providing a space where you can meet up with others who game to play together. Amazon isn't a hub for community.

Do you like books and reading? Journaling? Yeah, you can get things cheap on Amazon or from Walmart, but a local bookstore has people who know what they're talking about who give you recommendations. Local Bookstores host events and authors and more. It's Community.

The unfortunate reality is that to support your community, and to support each other, you have got to get comfortable with spending more. Yes, that means you can't get things as often, but those things will be better, and will build a community with others. And it's worth it.

True facts.

[covenofagatha]

Mistakes have been made this afternoon. I have had sake and no food, so fuck it, I'm going to be brave. Agatha/reader, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex, degradation, praise, and breeding kink if you are still taking requests.

Of course! And to everyone else who requested a fic, they should hopefully be up soon!

A gala to remember

You're feeling a little neglected by your girlfriend so you take advantage of her unfounded jealousy while at a work event for her

Word count: 2400

Warnings: literally pure filth, semi-public sex, girl penis Agatha, cum, creampie, blowjob, vaginal sex, degradation, praise, breeding kink, I think that's it

There’s not enough appetizers at the fancy annual gala for the company your girlfriend works at to make you stop being mad at said girlfriend.��

That doesn’t mean you’re not going to try though. 

You’re on your second shrimp cocktail when Agatha comes over to where you’re standing and tightly grabs your arm. 

“Come over here. And put that down,” she hisses in your ear and drags you across the room. You yank your elbow out of her grasp and deliberately pretend that you don’t see her scowl at you. 

It has been a week since the two of you have had sex. You can’t blame Agatha, work for her is really busy this time of the year, but she has come home late every single night since Monday and you’ve barely seen her. 

She had been promising all week that on Friday night – tonight – she would be home early and the two of you would make up for lost time. You had even gone out and bought some new lingerie. You missed the feeling of Agatha’s cock inside you and you couldn’t wait for the end of the week. 

Until Thursday morning, before she had rushed out of the house, she had told you that she was expected at the company’s gala the next night and she wanted you to come with her. 

Normally, you wouldn’t mind attending a work event with your girlfriend, but a lot of feelings had become pent up over the week and there was also the fact that she had given you a day’s notice on cancelling the plans she had made. 

So yeah, you were being a bit of a brat. 

And Agatha was fully aware of that, and wasn’t having any of it. 

“You need to behave,” she whispers before the two of you approach a group of co-workers. 

“Or what?” You scoff sardonically. “Not going to fuck me for another week?” 

“Watch me,” she shoots back. And then she plasters on a fake smile. “Hey, guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n.” She introduces you to everyone, three men and two women. You politely shake their hands, barely even looking at them, until you get to the last woman, Rio. 

She’s a little younger than Agatha, her pale skin contrasts beautifully with her golden-brown eyes. She’s wearing a perfectly tailored suit, like Agatha, and there’s something about her intense energy that seems to draw you in. 

Speaking of Agatha, she must notice how you’re staring at Rio because she clears her throat and wraps an arm around your waist. 

“Oh, that reminds us, Agatha,” one of the men booms. They’ve been talking about something for the past few minutes but you’ve been zoning out, bored almost to tears. “We need to borrow you for a few seconds upstairs. There’s a contract we need you to look over.” 

Agatha squeezes your waist and you shoot her a pleading look but she’s already leaving with two of the guys. The group disbands and you awkwardly go find an empty table to stand at and eat more shrimp.

Great. Now you’re mad, miserable, and alone. 

Except, maybe not all alone. 

Rio saunters up to the table, holding two glasses of champagne. She hands one to you and silently toasts. You take a sip. 

“Big fan of these parties?” You ask, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has settled over your table. She shrugs noncommittally.

 “They’re good for the company,” she says. “I don’t particularly enjoy parties.” 

You raise your glass to that. “Join the club. I’m only here because Agatha made me.” Maybe you shouldn’t be speaking ill of your girlfriend to her co-worker but you kind of want to vent to someone. 

Rio rests her head on her elbows and her eyes widen. “Agatha Harkness’s girlfriend. What is that like? Is she as much of a boss in the bedroom as she is in the office? Or is she one of those powerful people who submits completely?”

Images and memories of Agatha in the bedroom flit through your mind (she is definitely not the latter) and you choke on your drink, sending you into a coughing fit. Rio chuckles knowingly.

“That’s an interesting question to ask someone you just meant,” you say once you’re finally able to breathe again, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, well, I’m an interesting person,” she retorts with a smirk. You nod in agreement and laugh. 

And that’s when you feel a hand on your lower back and a presence right behind you. You whirl around, afraid it’s some old man, but it’s your girlfriend. 

“Agatha!” Rio exclaims with delight. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

“Excuse us,” Agatha says rudely and grabs your hand to drag you up the stairs of the event center. 

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. “What, Agatha?”  

She doesn’t say anything until you’re past the top of the stairs and she spins you around and shoves you against one of the pillars. You wince at the cold marble on your cheek but you’re quickly distracted by the feeling of Agatha’s body against your back. 

Particularly, her semi-hardened cock. 

“Were you seriously flirting with Rio Vidal?” She taunts right into your ear. “Was that some pathetic play to get me to notice you?”

You want to tell her that no, of course not, you weren’t even flirting and the only reason Rio had come over was because Agatha had left you all alone, but you don’t do any of that. Instead you wiggle your ass against her, enjoying her sharp intake of breath, and ask, “Did it work?” 

She growls and flips you around, forearm coming up to your throat. “Listen to me, little girl,” she says threateningly. “You are mine.” 

“Oh, am I?” You simper innocently. “I must’ve forgotten in the past week while you’ve been too tired to show me.” 

Her eyes flash with something dangerous. “Get on your knees.” 

It makes you falter. “What?” You look around the two of you. There’s no one up on the second floor right now, but Agatha and her co-workers had just been up here a second ago so who’s to say that won’t happen again? You aren’t exactly hidden from view from the people on the ground floor either. 

“Did I stutter?” 

Despite your reservations, you can feel how wet you’re getting and how much you’ve missed having Agatha like this. So you hike up your floor-length gown and slowly drop down to the floor. The tile hurts but you don’t care. 

You reach up to unzip Agatha’s pants and pull her cock out. The tip is already red and leaking with precum and you gasp at the sight, feeling an ache start to grow inside you. 

“Better go fast before someone catches you,” she says, weaving her hand through your hair. You’d like to remind her that if you get caught, she’ll be the one who gets in the most trouble, but she’s right. There isn’t time for that. 

You drag your tongue up the bottom of her cock and swirl it around the tip, getting immense pleasure when she lets out a small groan. You’ve almost forgotten how good she tastes. 

“God, you’re such a good slut for me,” she says. She collects your hair in a pony-tail as you start to bob your head up and down her dick. You can feel it twitch in your mouth and you tease the vein along the side which makes her hips jump. 

You swallow around her and try to push yourself further down. When you get close to gagging, you come back to lick at her tip while your hand strokes your saliva up and down the rest of her cock. 

“You look so fucking pretty with your mouth stretched around me,” Agatha groans. “Fuck, baby, can I use your mouth?”

You nod eagerly, peering up at her through your eyelids. Something about her using you like a toy really gets to you. 

And then you open your mouth wide and let her fuck her cock into you. You really hope the wet sounds you’re hearing are not as loud for everyone else. 

The need to breathe is burning in your lungs and your eyes are tearing up, but you can tell Agatha is close to cumming based on the tightening grip in your hair, the blissed expression on her face, and the way her cock is stuttering on your tongue. You want her to cum all over your face when she suddenly stops and pulls out of you. Air rushes into you and you cough weakly. 

“What?” You ask, a little disappointed. Without answering, she pulls you off your knees and pushes you back against another wall. She parts your dress at the slit and slides a hand through it to cup you over your underwear, smirking triumphantly when she finds you soaked. 

“God, sucking me off where anyone could see like a whore really does it for you, doesn’t it?” She taunts. “So pathetic, baby. So needy. You want me to fuck you so badly, don’t you? That’s why you’ve been such a brat this whole night, right? You want my attention, my cock in you so bad that this is how you’re acting?” 

Embarrassment colors your cheeks but you hold your head high. Nothing she said was false. “What are you going to do about it?” 

She scoffs and smirks. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m going to remind you who you belong to, because apparently a little slut like you needs a constant reminder.” She directs you to hike your dress up and she slides your underwear to the side. She positions one of your legs over her hip and without preamble, she thrusts her cock all the way into you. Your head falls back against the wall with a loud moan. 

Agatha clamps her hand over your mouth and stays still. She is filling you up so perfectly, even if it’s been a week since you’ve taken her. The delicious stretch is exactly what you’ve been missing. 

“Please, Aggie,” you whimper and she starts to move, hitting your special spot every time. “Feels so good.” 

“God, you’re taking my cock so well,” she grunts, picking up her pace. Your mouth falls open but no noise comes out. “It’s like you were made for me. So perfect, angel. Such a good girl.” You nod your head and roll your hips with every one of her thrusts. 

“Agatha, oh my god,” you moan, feeling her nails dig into your hips through her dress. You know that she’s close, can feel her throbbing inside you, and you’re not too far behind. 

“Such a desperate slut,” she croons. If there’s one thing about Agatha you love, it’s how quickly and effortlessly she can go from praise to degradation and back. “Needing me so bad, making me fuck you at my work event because a whore like you wants to be filled. Where anyone could walk up here and see how desperate you are for me. I want them to see what a whore I make you into. Especially Rio. Want her to know who you belong to. Fuck, sweetheart. Want me to fill you up, baby?” 

The thought of her spilling her cum inside you makes you clench even more around her cock. You absolutely love the feeling: the warmth, the way it feels leaking out of you, the times Agatha would eat you out after and taste the mix of your wetness with her cum and then kiss you so you could taste it too. 

“Yes, please, Aggie, fill me up, breed me,” you whine, whispering the two words that the both of you only use on special occasions. 

It has the intended effect because a feral look settles in Agatha’s eyes and she fucks into you with renewed vigor, hands gripping you so hard you think you’ll have bruises tomorrow. 

Or at least you hope. 

“Gonna breed you, baby, gonna fill you up with my cum,” she pants, the effort getting to her a little. “Cum all over my cock like the perfect slut that you are.” 

You take a hand off her shoulder to reach down and rub your clit and that little extra spark of pleasure sends you orgasming all over Agatha’s cock. Her hips splutter and she lets out a long sigh before you feel her twitch inside you and then a spurt of warmth fills you. You moan at the feeling, almost cumming again.

She stays in you until she softens and the second she pulls out, she wipes her cock all over your pussy to clean herself off, smearing the mess all over you, and tugs your lacy underwear back into place. You bite your lip at the feeling of her cum dripping out of you and when you take a shaky step towards her, you can feel how drenched your panties are, coated with a mixture of the two of you. 

And now you have to spend the rest of the night like that. 

“I promise I’ll clean you off when we get home,” Agatha says, teasing smirk telling you that her tongue will definitely be involved. You clench around nothing at her words and the images they bring, and you can feel more of her cum ooze out. You’re able to tell that some of it is on your inner thighs and you really hope it’s not visible through the dress. Or on the dress. 

But you don’t have time to worry about that. Agatha kisses you softly and pulls you in for a hug. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t made time for you this week,” she murmurs. “I’m all yours this weekend, I swear on my life. I told the guys earlier that if they had a problem, they’d have to figure it out themselves or wait until Monday.” 

You tighten your arms around her, feeling suddenly giddy. “Thank you, baby.”

Agatha reluctantly steps away after a few more moments of holding you close and you miss her body against yours. “Shall we rejoin society?” 

You pretend to think about it for a second until she smiles and then you take her hand. She leads you back down the stairs, her cum still seeping out of you. 

[cat-mermaid]

i do a ton of sashiko sewing. Thing is that my aesthetic is very colorful and chaotic so instead of those lovely clean patterns you see online, what I do looks like what a clown would make in the mad max apocalypse: LOTS of different colored threads and fabrics all fused together. My stiches are not even, they are random and upsetting. I know this because I have taken a few sashiko classes and have seen the light go out of the teacher's eyes everytime I showed them my shit

I also have a bad habit of grabbing stuff I want to alter that looks cool but is actually too small, so I hack it apart and Frankenstein it back together in a very deliberately fucked up way to fit me

This stuff feels great and the sashiko stitching makes its feel 1000 times more durable than anything you'd find at stores. Tissue paper jeans I bought 10 years ago at forever 21 now feel like somthing made for sailors to wear while looking like clown desert punk

I'm still not confident about certain things, such as fixing crotch blow out. I took my favorite pair of altered jeans to this tailor recently and told her I just wanted these two rips on the crotch patched. She barely glanced at the neon green jeans and said oh that won't look good and I was like ma'm have you seen the rest of the jeans?

She then actually laid them out and saw my lisa-Frank-enstein jeans and i saw the light go out of her eyes as we stood there in silence

i know i'm doing somthing right ;)

[charaznablescanontoyota]

"marn i missed sgdq 2024 what should i watch"

hi i decided i'm doing another one of these. it's been a minute. this past week was summer games done quick, an annual speedrunning marathon raising money for doctors without borders and also a great way to get into watching speedrunning. a lot of their content is tailored towards being both clearly explained and fun to watch for an audience outside the speedrun community, so you can jump in with basically no knowledge besides “this person is gonna play a game really fast”.

gdq has the full week's worth of vods up as a playlist on their channel, but here are some runs that i personally think you should check out:

ken griffy jr presents mlb by peanut butter the dog: look it's a dog playing baseball. i don't know what else to tell you.

the entire silly block: speedrunners get up way too early in the morning/late at night to play games that feel like a fever dream. some of the commentators are going on 24 hours of no sleep. it's brilliant. my personal highlights of what i've seen so far are stuart little 2, mad panic coaster, city bus simulator race, and the golf it wrong hole only race that the players dressed up as golfers for

alan wake 2 alan%: alan wake clips through walls and generally has a bad time while a bunch of gamers call him a sopping wet catboy. the runner for this one is really charismatic and it's very funny to see staff rushing to open up the pit as soon as we sing starts (yes they do the dance of course they do the dance). i just love joyful runs of horror games man

super mario 64 blindfolded randomizer: what if you played mario 64 blindfolded and also the stars were in completely random locations. and also you had to do it very very fast.

kingdom hearts 2 critical any%: every kh2 speedrun i've ever seen is a work of art and this one is no different. some of the boss fights go down so fast you will literally miss them if you look away for a minute. and also two of my favorite runners are on couch commentary!

balatro showcase: genuinely made me rethink how i'm playing some of the balatro decks. also great commentary and just fun all around despite (or perhaps partially because of) the absolute struggle session going on with plasma deck in the beginning

super mario world kaizo relay: kaizo is a shorthand term for a game hacked to its absolute limits of difficulty that often requires strict precision of movement and can punish the player for thinking they're smarter than it. in this segment, two teams of 4 very very good mario runners race to complete 8 kaizo levels they've never seen before in their lives

mario maker 2 troll level race: i always like the mario maker races for the same reason i like the kaizo relays. i love watching two speedrunners thrown blindly into the shit have to make up strategies on the fly via trial and error (and error, and error, and error, and...)

kirby air ride race: two high level kirby air ride speedrunners race for an actual physical title belt. the trash talk game happening here is of the insane variety that only two very skilled people who truly respect each others' talents at their game of choice can provide

kaizo mario galaxy: what if mario galaxy hated you even more than usual and would stop at nothing to kill you. also most of the commentators are only familiar with the vanilla game and their reactions to the added-in bullshit are hysterical

tony hawk pro skater 1, 2, 3, and 4: i fell asleep watching this and woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of a bunch of people singing superman by goldfinger. good run

super mario rpg remake: this was the finale block and it's just great to see a bunch of people who really really love the original mario rpg get to hang out and talk about how good it is and also watch a world record level player absolutely stunt on the game

halo 3 four-player co-op legendary: dudes rock

[plumbogs]

Making Sims 2 University Fun: my personal guide

I've noticed that while it's probably one of the most utilized of the expansions, TS2's university is generally seen as a slog. Which makes sense. It has a completely different gameplay loop than the rest of the game. But it's very handy to send your sims to college, especially if you use any of the various mods that limit careers based on education. So here's my big guide to making university an actual fun experience to play through (to me, at least).

The university expansion is, uh, very tailored to the 2000s college party time animal-house tropes. the pack becomes more fun when you treat it that way and let your sims be stupid young adults who streak and fool around on campus and throw parties. which, by default, is tricky because of the gameplay that requires so much skill building and assignments. which the rest of this guide will also deal with.

Note: I make some pretty big changes to normal university gameplay, to the point that it does require a bit of modding and at least one instance of fooling with simpe. there's probably also easier ways to do it, and of course everything is optional. maybe you do like keeping sims in dorms for the entire time and just three-speeding trough it all.

*mods: there are a few absolute must-have mods to me.:

TwoJeff's College Adjuster. It's basically an all-in-one controller to adjust semester timing, change semesters, plus a bunch of other features. The semester timing is the most important to me.

Active Classes is still in testing, but it almost completely changes how I play college sims. Once again, I'll detail gameplay later, but actually sending your sims to class makes for a much more fun campus experience.

No College Time Progression On Community Lots: this goes hand-in-hand with the previous mod.

Community Time: IIRC you have to do a little editing in SimPE to make it work right with University - this post explains what to edit. I don't know if I'm allowed to share the exact edit I made as a download. This might seem redundant after the last mod, but there's a reason for the madness: while one group of sims are in their active classes, the other students can do things on the home lot.

Instant Pledge for Greek Houses: This one is important for greek house gameplay, which is later.

SimBlender: There's like, 500 different edits of the SimBlender, and I think all of them have the main function needed for my college gameplay, which is teleportation. You can use a comparable teleporter if you fancy.

Simlogical's University Break is another important one for me, but it's not really necessary if you don't want it. I usually give the sims one break day per season - more on that later.

Autonomous Casual Romance is not required, but it sure adds a lot of fun to your college experience. You can also do any number of professor-limiting, custom degrees, etc mods and fixes you want.

*mods i do not use: there are mods to change the number of/length of semesters, but I seem to run into issues with them so I use the college adjuster to do the same things. I also don't really use any major overhauls, or mods that make term papers faster. I did have the tuition mod for a bit but grew tired of using it.

*general timing changes: I do seven-day seasons with longer lifespans for all sims and play rotations each day. These are the things I do specifically for university:

Four semesters: I only do semesters 2, 4, 6, and 8. Every time a new semester starts, I just use the College Adjuster to set the correct semester for each sim. I use the default length of 72 hours.

Synchronized finals: I use the College adjuster to reset the timer so the finals are all around 6-8am, and synchronized for each sim on a lot. This makes it easier to keep track of timing and skills. Also, all sims in university run on the same 3-day semester. Finals are the same day for the entire college each round. Once again, that just makes it easier for me to keep track of college-wide events for gameplay reasons.

Because this means there's 3 days per school year, and two school years per season week, it syncs better if they get a day off every Sunday using the University break mod.

Teens are sent to college on the same schedule. I send teens to school when they have 14 days or so left, with maybe an extra day or two if the college is currently in the middle of the semester.

*Gameplay: living situations: Here's where the meat begins. Now all your sims are on the same college schedule, they're all being sent to school, and now they need to actually move into college. I follow a real rule a number of colleges use: Every student spends a year in the dorms. Just their freshman year, then they have to move somewhere else. I find that this gives them a chance to meet dormies, adapt to being on college, and sorta figure out what kind of young adults they are. Plus, this gives them time for joining greek houses, which will be talked about later.

I do this because I like seeing sims as their own little characters with arcs and whatever and it forces me to think about what exactly they would be doing in college. Some sims get so frustrated with the constant mess of a dorm, some sims thrive by making friends with every dormie. Sometimes they start new drama with the others they came from high school with. Nothing quite like losing your high school sweetheart to some stinky dormie, after all.

After freshmen year, the students are kicked out of the dorms. They can get an apartment, they can rent a house, they can move into a greek house if they join one. Either way, they need to live somewhere. You can let them stay in the dorms, but I prefer somewhat smaller college households and divide them accordingly. Which gets into that whole greek house situation:

*Gameplay: greek houses. I gamify the Greek houses. I play SSU in my megahood, which comes with a fraternity and sorority, and you can do whatever setup you like there if you dislike gendered houses. Or abandon them all together and ignore this section. There are a few important elements:

Freshmen cannot live in Greek houses. They can, however, pledge while living in the dorms and move in right after their finals end. This includes dormies. There are benefits to the dorm, such as free housing, more social opportunities, usually more money per household since I cheat to make the greek houses actually nice to live in with things like pools and comfortable furniture, etc.

The Greeks have to be recruiting consistently. To keep the house going, they need to constantly be bringing in new members, either playable OR dormies.

Any recruited dormies are required to move in. You can townify them after graduation if you don't really get attached to them, but every member of the house is moved in. I use the instant pledge mod to get rid of that annoying requirement where they have to hang out on the lot so long before moving in. That, and they also move in after finals. You can teleport or invite them on and just ask them to move in. Whatever you want. Then, you must set them to be sophomores. Beyond that you can do whatever. They're playable now. Have fun.

You gotta let the Greeks party. Throw toga parties all the time and use a teleporter to maximize guests. Generally, ALL members of ALL greek houses are teleported to a party by default. Add more dormies, any friends, anybody in the dorms - the kids need to recruit and the easiest way is by forcing everyone on one lot. If you have autonomy mods or realistic alcohol, sit back and watch the madness unfold.

I don't really play wants-based, so playables that join greek houses is more based on vibes or friendship with existing greek members than wants.

*Gameplay: what do you mean we have to study??? Yeah. I made it this far before even bringing up the whole point of college. This is also where it gets a little more complicated and changed up, so bear with me.

I don't do wants-based, again, so I generally just try to make sure sims are at least passing by default. Whether they go beyond a C is up to whatever. I usually try to get knowledge sims to their 4.0s or sims that just seem like they'd take it seriously to max GPA.

ACTIVE CLASSES ARE SUCH A LIFESAVER. You can use the pre-made lecture hall or make your own. Put some skill-building objects in there, and if you like flavor theme the lecture halls around majors. I have a business/gen ed building, a science lot, and an arts lot, each with two classrooms (plus the library contains a classroom). I do believe I made an edit to the mod to make the class performance go higher with active classes, as well, so attending class every day is the bare minimum to get a passing grade.

The active class lots also contain career reward skill-building objects. These are nice because your sims can request to be taught by other sims on the lot. If you have a mod that allows non-students to visit uni lots, this helps even more with faster skill-building.

Every day, I send groups of sims with similar majors to their class. If there's a mixed-major group, each sim group gets one day in active class per semester. (So if there's an economics major, a bio major, and an art major, each one attends class on a separate rotation and the others do the normal autonomous go-to-class where they leave the lot and disappear). They attend one or both of the lectures and otherwise exist on the college lot to skill-build, socialize, eat, etc.

Outside of class, sims will usually research if they're not doing great. I honestly barely bother with assignments or term papers unless the sim actually wants to do them or are aiming for a high GPA. Maybe they go hang out at the lounge or downtown to fool around. Maybe they just fester at home. Whatever they want.

*other gameplay/storytelling things: I usually will take advantage of the aspiration change after their sophomore year if I realize that their aspiration just doesn't really jive with how they act. It's realistic to me. They had many years since being like, 13 when they first had their aspiration selected. I'd like to implement more in the way of holidays/events, personally, but that's not really relevant either. I usually give them an outfit change as well, and I like to go hard with the idea that they're going through a bunch of weird fashion phases. You know you want to give them a mohawk, just for a few days, don't you? Dye their hair red? Shave it all off? Have fun with it.

All of these things combine for me, at least, to make the college years a lot more engaging/interesting and less of a slow "move to a dorm -> study -> read books -> meet needs -> graduate" loop. There's a lot more storyline development that comes from sims being able to enjoy their time as young adults, too, such as the regular polycule jealousy explosions and party fights. It serves to break up anything they had going on as teens and give them a little direction to enter adulthood with. This concludes my little mini-guide, feel free to steal all my gameplay style or just take inspiration if you please. Or ignore it all and shake your head and call me an idiot. do whatever you want forever.

[dickarchivist]

Lullaby of the Wolffe

Wolffe × GN!Reader

Word Count: 1087

Playlist: Lullaby of the Wolffe

Rating: PG Fluff, but as always Minors DNI 🔞

Contents and Warnings: Insomnia, growing panic due to Insomnia, service animal (charhound), intrusive thoughts, swear words, soft Wolffe, potentially OOC Wolffe, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft sleepy singing

Summary: plagued by anxiety, you can't sleep. Despite your best efforts, Wolffe wakes up beside you. Instead of being angry, he offers you a Lullaby to try and help calm you down.

Author's Notes: The other night I had really bad panic Insomnia and I wanted a comfort fic tailored to my bullshit. I decided it would be a good idea to make a playlist of songs I felt like Wolffe would sing to me in a soft baritone while rubbing my back and trying to soothe me out of my panic. Now that I've made it through the night, I'm writing the fic to go with the playlist. Please enjoy both! I hope you get some rest.

Taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @wolffegirlsunite @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni @sev-on-kamino @mythical-illustrator @523rdrebel @littlemissmanga @atomickidsoul @moonwreckd

You can't sleep.

You went for a run. You hit the gym. You walked your charhound. You read a whole book, from start to finish. Cooked meals for the whole week, cleaned the house top to bottom, The laundry was even folded.

You can't sleep.

It wasn't for lack of trying. You'd lay in your bed, but as soon as you'd turned off the distractions, you were alone, and everything else came rushing in to attack you.

"You left the stove on. No. Not the stove, the oven. What's that smell? Are you burning the house down!?" You jump out of bed, run to the kitchen, and there's nothing wrong. The place is just how you left it. That burning smell was the crisp charcoal smell of your service charhound, Soot. You mentally kick yourself, how could you be so stupid? You know that smell, you've known it since she was a pup...

Back in bed. Okay, you think, okay this time will be it. This time you'll sleep.

"You forgot to feed Soot. Useless stupid owner how could you do that to your own baby?" But Soot is asleep at your bedside, her belly warm with her meal. You lay back down. You try to sleep.

You. Can't. Sleep.

Tears well in your eyes and you scream. You're so tired. You can't believe how exhausted you are and yet not a single moment of rest finds you. Soot gets up and puts herself in your arms to keep you from getting distructive. Her higher temperature keeps you warm, but all you feel is cold. You don't sleep a moment all night.

You feel sick, you're sluggish all the next day, because of course. You couldn't sleep. It's been 52 hours. The first day you could hide it, the second it started to show, but today... today you're with the wolfpack. If Plo Koon doesn't bring it to anyone's attention first, you know that Wolffe won't let it slide when he sees you. You've never wanted to stay away from the steely eyed commander more than today.

"You look like hell." Wolffe actually takes his helmet off to get a look at you, and it makes your stomach hurt when you see the concern on his face.

You sigh, roll your eyes, "Thanks. Go away." and turn away from Wolffe, trying to focus on your own work.

"No." His voice is hard, and you want to lash out, but when he grabs your wrist and turns you around, all your anger dissolves at his orders, "Tell me what's going on. Now."

Tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you try to blink them away, try to act tough, but you break under his gaze. "I can't sleep!"

You sob, hard. Wolffe jumps when you rush forward to close the gap, pressing your face against his chestplate, arms clinging around him, and openly sobbing. He hesitates, but eventually puts his arms around you, rubbing your back. It's so comforting, but it only serves to make you cry harder. It makes you realize just how touch starved you've been...

"Alright Cyar'ika, why can't you sleep?" You didn't know his voice could be so soft...

"I d-dont- dont know!" When you pull back, he holds your cheek, rubbing away tears. You close your eyes, and try to breath a little more evenly, "I h-have Insomnia, a-and it's been a few days since-"

"Days?!" Wolffe barks, now holding your face in both hands, "Kriff- you're coming with me."

He grabs your wrist, hauling you through the hallways of the ship. He opens a door to reveal a vacant sleeping quarters, and your stomach drops. "N-no, Wolffe, you don't get it... nothing is going to help, and especially not without Soot here, I won't be able to fall asleep. It's hard enough with Soot, but alone, I can't-"

"Shut up." You do, looking away bashfully, until the door closes behind the two of you, at which point Wolffe starts to take off his armor, "Get in the bed."

You blush wildly, covering your eyes, "Wolffe I'm sleep deprived, not- not sex deprived, I'm really sorry if I misled you but- s-stop laughing!"

"Cyar'ika, we are not having sex. Just getting my armor off so I'm comfortable too. Get in the damn bed, you'll see." Wolffe takes your hands from your eyes and leads you over to a bunk.

He helps you down, takes off your boots, and guides you to lay down. Your face is still hot when he gets into the bed with you, and he earns a squeak from you when he handles you into a cradled position. Your head rests on a pillow between yourself and his arm, comfortable for both of you. His other arms curls around you and you feel his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"I could use a rest, and you definitely need one. Get some sleep... that's an order." He chuckles at the last part, and for a moment, you think this might actually work.

Unfortunately, as soothing as it is, Wolffe's presence did nothing to stop the panic Insomnia. As soon as it's quiet, your mind starts racing. Thoughts of guilt, of shame, thoughts that this is all pity, that he didn't want you because you're undesirable, that-

"Cyare, quit squirming. What's going through that head of yours?"

"E-everything..." damn it. You didn't even notice your movements, but they'd been enough to wake Wolffe, "Once it's quiet, I can't sleep... can't stop the thoughts..."

There's a long, painfully quiet moment where you think you've said something wrong, until you hear Wolffe take a very deep breath. He kisses your forehead, whisping on your skin, "If you tell anyone about this I swear..."

It starts as a hum, a familiar tune rumbling in his chest. Eventually it builds, and he's whispering the song to you. You pull away a little, looking at Wolffe in awe, "Are you... singing me to sleep?"

"If it works." He kisses your forehead, encourages you to get comfortable again, and then picks up his song again once you're secured to his chest.

You don't even notice when you fall asleep. And you don't know how long you slept, but it was peaceful. Restful. You don't even remember the dreams you had, if you had then at all.

"Hey there Cyar'ika, sleep well?" Waking up in his arms, that's what really felt like a dream.

"Thanks to you, I did."

[wanderingsoul6261]

Credit for gif goes to saw-×

I'm not really sure I like this. I'm in a writing funk right now, it seems. Edited it to the best of my ability at 1:30 am. I have more ideas coming out for this man, like another part of the x Tailor!Reader series.

This is a two in one. Got two requests that I felt I could put into one piece of writing. Like I said, I'm not sure I like it, so I might end up rewriting it or something. Time is just difficult between work and college.

Warnings: none that I can think of other than implied sex.

She sat outside, her feet dangling in the pool, moving back and forth gently, watching the ripples moved through the water. The sun beat down on her, but it wasn't hot, a soft breeze moving through the air making the day bearable, and maybe the only bearable thing all week. 

Her hands were settled in her lap, the ends of her summer dress fluttering slightly in the breeze, her hair following the same motion. 

James watched her for several moments, stepping out of the back patio doors of her home. The light chatter of her parents could be heard inside, providing an added sense of domesticity to the moment. 

I love you. 

The words almost came tumbling out of his mouth. Know one had been good enough for her, treating her as if she was a waste, the second best that wasn't even that. His heart thundered against his chest, threatening to blow through his chest as he finally took a step towards her. 

She startled, twisting around to look at him as his feet scraped against the cement around the pool.

“Sorry.” He spoke softly, as if speaking too loud would ruin the moment, as if it ever could. She visibly relaxed and he watched as she slouched slightly, watching him as he moved to take a seat next to her. 

It was silent. Crickets starting coming out as the sun set and the moon started it's adventure across the sky, the light from the manor behind them the only light source. The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder, the only sound being their breathing as they took in the presence of each other. 

He waited for her, not wanting to push, wanting her to talk about the guy that broke her heart once more, leaving others to pick up the pieces. James was mad at the way he treated her, always forgetting that she was there, leaving her on the sidelines when she should have been with him in the game. James had always known he would never treat her like that.

“Am I the problem?” His heart shattered. He snapped his gaze towards her, eyes wide as she looked at him with doe eyes. Oh how he loved her eyes, grateful that he had them in his life. 

“What- no. Of course you aren’t the problem.” He exclaimed. “You could never be the problem.” Her name fell from his lips as a sigh. “We never know why people do the things They do. But I know you didn't deserve it. No one deserves what has happened to you. Someone will Come around eventually and want to devote their entire being just to make you happy.” 

Like me. 

He thought to himself, and as she leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder, he knew would want to do just that. But there was a risk, and he couldn't lose her entirely if the relationship were to ever fail. So he would sit and watch from the sidelines, loving her from a distance. 

—---

“James!” 

His turned around to see her, excitement in her eyes as she rushed over to him. Several others in the hallways gave her looks, but the two of them were two focused on each other to really care. 

A small smile slowly made its way to his face, her name falling from his lips as she neared him, coming into earshot. 

“Heard that your parents are out of town. You and Lydia can come over. We can hang out! Mom and dad will be home, but they already said it’s okay.” James took in her excitement, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he watched her ramble. 

“We’ll be there.” He said, stepping in, before she spoke too much and forgot what she was asking. She paused, taking in her words, and his eyes moved over her face, taking in her excitement and the way her eyes twinkled as she spoke to him. It was hard to believe that a few months ago she had her heart broken. 

The two started to walk shoulder to shoulder down the hallway to their next class, which just happened to be with each other. Her voice was music to his ears as she spoke to him, going on about what the three of them could do. Movies were brought up, with popcorn of course, although she didn’t fail to mention that she might read a book at some point, or have her sketchbook and paints littering the room as the movies played. 

He didn’t care though and neither did Lydia. Hanging out with her was a breath of fresh air, because while her parents definitely had money, they didn’t let it speak for them like many others at Maxton Hall. The family was true to themselves, and it was a nice change amongst the others. 

“Do you want me to talk to Lydia, or should I?” She asked. James tilted his head in her direction, thinking for several moments before he answered. 

“I’ll talk to her. Don’t worry that pretty head of yours.” James said, and he could have sworn that her face blushed slightly before she looked away from him, her lips curling into a smile. “Is there anything that you want us to bring?” He asked, his eyes remaining on her. 

The two of them continued to take steps closer to their next class, but moved slightly slower than the rest of the students rushing past them. They reveled in the company of the other, enjoying each other’s presence better than others around them. 

“Nope.” She said, looking up at him. “I got it all handled. You guys just bring yourselves. Not too hard is it?” She asked. James shook his head, his gaze stuck with hers as they finally walked into their next class. She flashed him another smile, his heart soaring into his throat, threatening to choke him as his steps faltered. 

He needed to remain on the sidelines though, but as the night came to exist and he watched her instead of watching the movie, reading her book or sketching, her legs draped over his legs while Lydia lounged on a bean bag, it was becoming more and more difficult. 

———-

He couldn’t remain on the sidelines any longer. It was becoming harder for James to keep himself in check as she continued to talk to other guys. It had been a year since her last break up, and she felt comfortable enough to talk to another again. 

Which led them to where they are now. 

James stood against a wall, watching her from a distance as she smiled and laughed at something that another student from Maxton Hall told her. It looked genuine, and her eyes held that twinkle that they had been void of for so long. 

James clenched his jaw as he watched the two converse with each other, his knuckles growing white as he clenched the glass in his hands. 

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, James.” Alistair came to stand next to James, looking over at his friend briefly before his gaze moved to where she stood with the other guy. The two watched as her gaze slipped past the guy, catching sight of the two friends. Her smile had grown impossibly wider before she turned her attention back to the one before, but her smile wasn’t as big this time. 

“I don’t want to get in the way of her happiness.” James said, knowing well enough that Alistair knew about his feelings for her. “And that’s exactly what I’d be doing if I confessed. There is too much at risk Alistair.” 

“She feels the same way. You should see the way she looks at you when you aren’t looking.” James turned back to his friend, caught slightly off guard. There was no way she felt the same way. 

“There is no way.” 

“You are just too blind and oblivious. 

“I know what’s in front of my face when I see it.” Alistair only scoffed. 

“Keep lying to yourself. But I firmly believe that you need to talk to her, and soon, because you might not have that chance for long.” His friend patted his back, leaving him to sulk behind himself, a half empty glass of champagne in his hand. James turned his attention back to her, finding her already staring at him and the umpteenth time since he had known her, his heart threatened to pound out of his chest, his throat going dry as he watched her. The palm of his hands grew sweaty, wiping his one hand on his slacks, before switching his glass into his other hand and repeating the motion. 

He was always so calm and collected, so organized, but she had the power to unravel him and do it with little to no effort. 

James watched as she politely excused herself from her current conversation, and had taken the look on his face as an invite to walk over to him. He licked his lips, watching as she neared him, his heart starting to thud against his chest, and as she finally reached him, chest pressed almost together, James knew that he wasn’t going to hold back anymore. He was done with the sidelines. He was done watching.  All he wanted to do now was run the game by her side. 

So he set his glass of champagne down on the nearest flat surface. He turned his attention back to her and set one hand gingerly on her cheek, the other on her waist, before he dipped his head down and swallowed her lips into a kiss, knowing without a doubt that she could probably feel his heart threaten to beat out of his chest. 

———

“Will you marry me?”

He couldn’t help it when the words slipped out of his mouth. James laid with her in bed, their bodies bare and covered with marks made in coital bliss. His hand skimmed down her waist, stopping on her thigh and drawing small shapes into the small skin. 

She seemed better relaxed than at the start of the encounter, and knowing that it was her first time, James did everything he could to make her comfortable. He couldn’t ever think about doing anything in any other way, not when he loved her so much. 

She froze, but the smile remained on her face. 

“What?” She asked. James swallowed, his body growing hot with anxiety, sweating, even if the blankets only covered a small portion of his body. 

“Marry me.” He said, furrowed his brows, and then corrected himself. “Will you marry me? Please?” Her smile turned into a grin. 

“No fancy plan?” She asked, and he was relieved when she didn’t say no, but he had yet to receive a yes. 

“I did, but I- the moment.” He paused, struggling to find a better way. “I don’t need some fancy plan to propose to you. Plus I don’t have a ring. It just came out and I might have made a joke out of it, but then I didn’t want to. I want to marry you.” She gazed up at him with an easy smile, eyes crinkled and dimples showing. 

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” She responded. James surged forward at her answer, his lips pressing kiss after kiss over her face, her name and ‘I love yous’ falling from his lips as a mantra, the promise of their future filling the room as he tightened his grasp on her, pulling her closer to him to show her once again, how much he loved her. 

-----

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @uniquexusposts @sillyfreakfanparty

[skiitter]

Ellana looked for Solas everywhere, in every shadow and alleyway of Thedas, at every ephemeral border of her dreams. She hunted him through time, through the annals of her own ancestral history, down through the last long decade of her too short life. She searched for even the echo of his presence in places too old and too broken to be named. And in every corner, through every door, across every dusty room, she found nothing. He was a ghost of a memory, something she stole and kept pressed to the edge of her ribs, just painful enough to remind her it happened.

As the years and the emptiness of her life shuffled on, Ellana's loneliness blossomed outward, consuming the gentler parts of her, until all that was left was bitter and ugly, the refuse of all her wasted hope. And so, for the sake of what life she had life, she set aside that aching desire, and refocused her grim determination on solving problems that he created. If Solas would not have her now, just as he did not keep her then, then so be it. He broke her heart, but she would not let him break the world.

She never expected to see him again, not in this life anyway, and most certainly not in the face of a stranger, in a tavern far, far away.

"This," Morrigan said, "is Rook."

Afterwards, her hand shook for want of something to cling too. The wolf statue she'd given to Thedas's newest champion was all she'd brought on her journey, and so it was to her own miserable shock she was forced to clutch.

"So, what did you think of her?" Morrigan asked upon their return to the south.

'I hate her' was the very first thought in her head, but Ellana pushed it aside for something appropriate, something fair. "She's so young."

Morrigan nodded. "Tis true, she is. But so was the Warden Amell, so was Varric's beloved Hawke," she paused. "So were you."

Ellana felt every second of her 36 years hit her all at once and she failed to keep the grimace from her face. "She's not Dalish, despite her name. I was expecting her to be more..." She could hear the word 'elfy' in Sera's voice as clear as day. "It must drive him mad."

"Oh, I'm sure many things about her do. She's quite obstinate, I'm told." Dorian stepped through the Eluvian after them, brushing imaginary fade-dust from his tailored robes. "Harding says she reminds her of you, all spitfire and stubborness."

It wounded like nothing had in a decade. It was a feeling so far removed from her repertoire of emotions, she didn't dare name it until safely alone in a room, far from prying eyes and clever sight.

Jealousy.

It's so base, so sincere in its immaturity, Ellana smiled despite the revelation. Jealousy, now, at the end of the world. How small it felt before the onslaught of things sure to come, how useless. But it was felt all the same. What a ruin the last decade had made of her pride, the irony of which she was unable to ignore. It would be better, she knew, if she did not love him. It would be easier, she knew, if she hated him. And yet.

And yet.

"El, darling, I've brought you some very expensive and fancy wine that you will pretend to enjoy and I--" Dorian trailed off at the sight of her hunched over in bed, sobbing quietly into her hands. "Oh, Ellana." He did not ask, no one ever did anymore. Instead, he sat down and drew her to him.

"It's not fair," she said into the crook of his neck. "It's not bloody fair."

"Love never is."

"It should be me, sifting through his fractured thoughts, demanding answers and receiving none. A decade of my life, Dorian. A decade. And it's just some--some girl instead." Ellana scoffed in disgust at her own fallible heart. "Her people, they live in his--his home--they--they are sat among his things. They--" She scrubbed at her face, pulling away. "I am so sick of missing him, of wanting answers to a question I asked years ago."

"I know."

"Does this make me foolish? All these years, and I'm still so heartbroken. I'm responsible for the safety of a thousand people and one man, one stupid and prideful man, has weakened me so utterly I cannot help but hate what I've become." Ellana looked at him. "I hate that I hate her. I hate that she was able to succeed where I failed."

"She's only where she's at because of Varric--"

"I spent years thinking of ways to make him stop, for just moment, to just listen to me. And now, she's got him trapped. Trapped and unable to run and I cannot even demand an audience after all this--this searching. He's just as unreachable to me now as he's ever been."

Dorian was at a loss for words, as nearly everyone was when presented with the ugly wound of her heartache. She did not begrudge him such things, nor did she push away his attempts to comfort. Instead, she cried for a while more, just for the posterity of feeling.

"Sorry," she scrubbed at her face after some time. "It's been a long day."

"It's been a long decade," he said gently. "Would you like some company or is this a 'wallow in your own loneliness' sort of evening?"

In response, she grabbed the bottle from him and took a heavy swig. It was impressively dry, like all Tevinter wine. With a grimace, she handed it back. "Company, definitely."

Several cups and not enough food later, the two of them sat before the small fireplace, having lapsed into companionable silence. He had just finished telling her of his recent run in with Vivienne and at the mention of their old friend, her thoughts were inevitably cast back in time to the Dread Wolf.

"I can see him in her," she said softly. "I see Solas in her expression, in the way she carries herself. It's...it's agonizing."

Dorian reached out and took her hand.

"She's so young and the weight of the entire world is on her shoulders. I know that feeling, I know how hard it is going to get," Ellana sighed. "I cannot begrudge her for things wholly out of her control."

"It is okay to hate her, even if it is only a little bit," he replied. "I won't tell."

"I know." She gave him a sad smile. "Maybe at the end of this, on the other side of all this carnage, I can ask her to tell him that I..." There was no word to properly encapsulate the sumtotal of everything she felt for Solas. "That I miss him, even now. And that if he ever wanted to talk, I will always be here to listen."

"He doesn't deserve your heart, Ellana, he never has."

"I know, but it's his anyway."

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 19

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

AO3

Word Count: 3.5k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs @blakelysco-pilot

A/N: I'm sooo sorry this chapter took so long!! things have been super busy lately and my motivation to write was so low it was literally in hell. But! we got there eventually - please enjoy!! <3

December 1945

Morning sunlight flooded the room, the hustle and bustle of New York sounding through open windows as Frankie pried open a new paint can with a grunt, leaving a smudge of blue in her wake as she raised a paint-stained hand to wipe across her forehead. With each brush stroke, the room grew more alive with colour as everything steadily seemed to come together.

She'd been up since before dawn. Sleep didn't come easily these days.

Hair pulled messily out of her face, Frankie dressed in a pair of Rosie's old pyjamas, the shirt only half-buttoned, left open where it became too small to reach across her swelling stomach. A bassinet remained unassembled in the hall, waiting for its spot to be ready, and the smell of coffee wafted up from downstairs, a surefire sign that Rosie had awoken too, undoubtedly readying for work.

Within a few minutes, he came to her, hovering in the doorway in his suit - the one that was tailored the best, the one that made her melt a little no matter how many times he wore it. "Morning," She called with a smile, adjusting a piece of masking tape along the window frame. The sun caught her at just the right angle, illuminating her silhouette as she straightened.

"You're beautiful," Rosie beamed, crossing the room towards her. Lifting a hand to cup her cheek, he brought his lips to hers, delivering a gentle kiss.

"Ah-ah," Frankie chided, ducking backwards as she lifted her hands in surrender. "Paint hands." He chuckled as she scampered from the room, scurrying to the bathroom to wash away the streaks of wet paint that stained her hands to preserve that excellent suit of his.

He was waiting when she returned, a pleased smile creasing his cheek as she returned the first kiss, one of his palms pressed against her stomach. As she finally pulled away, he raised a hand, stifling a chuckle as the pad of his thumb rubbed at the paint staining her face.

"Don't work yourself too hard, honey," He urged, entirely unable to meet her eye without a smile creeping across his expression.

"Oh, you know me," She teased, straightening his tie.

Scoffing, Rosie shook his head slightly. "That's the problem."

Frankie shrugged. "Eh. Bucky's coming over in a bit, might sit down for a whole ten minutes. I'll drop by the garage for a bit just to check in."

"Have him drive you," He nodded, turning to head for the door.

"I can drive!" She protested. Rosie let out a bark of laughter, swinging back on his heel.

"No, you cannot - for the safety of New York, I beg."

Frankie guffawed, batting a hand in his direction. "Get outta here!"

"Yes ma'am," Rosie grinned, tipping an imaginary cap before disappearing down the hall.

Once again alone in the nursery, she smiled to herself, chuckling as her fingers drummed against her stomach. "Your dad thinks I'm a terrible driver," She whispered as if confiding a secret to the child within her. "Although, your uncle Bucky says it too, so they might be onto something. Either way, it looks like I won't be doing the school run."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A little over an hour later, the doorbell sounded, startling Frankie enough to make her jump, a splatter of paint falling from her brush and staining her sock as she cursed beneath her breath. Waddling slightly as she made her way downstairs, she seized a sweater from the back of a nearby chair, tugging it up over her head to cover her stomach. As she wrenched the door open, gaze settling on the figure standing on the front step, she fought the urge to grin.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

"Shut up," Bucky chuckled, stepping inside as he wrapped her in a hug. "You look huge."

"You smell bad," Frankie grimaced.

"Late night."

"Oh yeah?" She raised a brow, a smirk curling her lip as he shrugged nonchalantly, a faint splash of colour tinting his cheeks. "Anything to share with the class?" Bucky frowned, side-stepping his way inside like he owned the place

"Oh come on," Frankie groaned, shutting the front door with a slam. "I haven't been out for a drink in months, I need someone to live vicariously through."

"There... may have been a girl."

"Knew it," She grinned, scurrying into the front room to take a seat in one of the armchairs. "Sit, sit, sit!"

"Jesus, you need to get out more," Bucky muttered, perching on the edge of the couch. "That baby's making you weird."

"Not the point. Start talking."

Throwing his hands up in frustration, he let out a sigh. "I don't know! I got drunk and we danced - she was pretty, I think her name was... Jo? Josephine. But other than that I got nothin', so I'll probably never see her again."

Frankie let out a long, agonised groan as she pushed herself back up out of her seat, waddling towards the kitchen. "God, what's the point of living through you if all you do is make stupid decisions?"

"Where are you going?" Bucky called after her, craning his neck to watch as she disappeared into the kitchen. It was quiet for a while until she reappeared in the doorway, a plate of shortbread in her hand, already chewing a mouthful.

"You want some?"

He snorted back a laugh, smiling sceptically. "You made those?"

"They're the only thing I'm good at. Three ingredients." She mused, licking some sugar from her fingertip as she returned, putting the plate down on the coffee table. Lowering herself back into her chair, Frankie let out a groan, the feeling of weight being taken from her practically euphoric. "So. What's the plan for tracking down this Jo?"

Bucky threw his hands up in despair. "I dunno. It's impossible."

Her eyes narrowed slowly. "I don't think I've ever heard you say those words," Frankie teased. "Do it again. Slowly."

"Shut up," He frowned, stuffing a piece of shortbread into his mouth to avoid having to speak for at least a little while.

"I just never knew you to be a coward," She shrugged. "You're setting a bad example for the baby."

Bucky scoffed, a few crumbs blowing loose from his moustache. "The baby doesn't know what's going on."

Frankie felt a stretch within her as the baby kicked out with her tiny foot. "Oh, she begs to differ."

"Oh my God."

"Hm?"

"I just realised there's actually gonna be two of you. I dunno if I can cope with that."

"Oh, don't tell me Uncle Bucky's gonna shirk his duties."

"...Uncle Bucky?"

"Mhm."

He began to grin, chuckling to himself, unable to suppress his smile as he leant back into his seat. "Well... alright. I think I can work with that."

Frankie mirrored his smile, the room falling into quiet for a long moment before she snapped her fingers.

"Ok. You're giving me a lift to work."

"Oh, am I?"

"Yep. Rosie says I'm not allowed to drive."

"Oh, yeah, no, good call actually. I'll get my coat," Bucky nodded firmly, fumbling for his keys as he rose to his feet.

"Well, I was thinking I'd go put proper clothes on first," She pointed out. He turned, taking in her appearance, the sleeves of Rosie's sweater dangling past her fingertips, paint-stained socks peeking out beneath the hem of her pyjama bottoms.

"Seems fair."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bucky's car vanished around the corner as Frankie headed inside through the open garage door, groaning slightly as she craned backwards, stretching her back against the weight it carried. The place was alive with work, her staff bustling away as they tweaked and mended the cars in their custody, a raucous whirr filling the air and bringing her back to the countless hours spent in her father's shop as a girl.

"Mrs Rosenthal," One of the mechanics nodded to her as she waddled past, tipping an imaginary cap in her direction.

"Mornin', Ted," She paused, stepping up beside him as he peered beneath the hood of one of the cars. "How's it lookin'?"

"Think we got a problem with one of the carburettor valves - I'll take it out and have a look, but we'll probably have to order a part."

"Alright," Frankie hummed. "I'm sending out an order later anyway, if you can get it checked today I should be able to get it in fast."

"Thanks, Frank," Ted smiled, the pair exchanging nods as she headed towards the office, which sat tucked away in the far rear of the place, its windowed walls giving her a perfect view of everything that went on.

"Excuse me?" A voice echoed through the garage, barely audible over the roar of machinery, giving Frankie pause as her hand reached for the office door. A woman lingered in the entryway, clutching her purse as she glanced around hoping to be noticed. Her blonde hair was pulled back in neat curls, a pleasant smile curling red lips as she met Frankie's eye.

"Hi!" She grinned, meeting the woman in the middle of the room as they headed towards each other. "What can I do for ya?"

"I'm just here to pick up my car, I brought it in a few days ago."

"Alright, no worries," Frankie nodded, back-tracking towards the office to grab her clipboard "What's the name?"

"Josephine Pitz."

She paused, slowly looking up from her notes, her earlier conversation with Bucky replaying in her head.

"Mhm. Ok. If you could just take a seat, I'll go deal with the paperwork and you'll be good to go," Frankie urged, waddling at full speed back to her office as Josephine found a chair.

Alone in the privacy of her office, she grabbed the papers, fumbling for the phone on her desk as she forcibly dialled the familiar number. Holding the handset between her shoulder and her chin, she scribbled away, deigning not to get too precious about her terrible spelling as she waited for her friend to pick up.

"Hello?" Bucky's voice came down the line.

"I think I've found the answer to your Josephine problem."

She heard him scoff. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"Shut up, she's just come in. Josephine Pitz - blonde hair, green eyes... great legs."

"Oh shit."

"That's what I'm saying! Get down here right now - knock on the back door."

"Alright, yeah - On it."

The line beeped as he hung up, and she couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Bucky scrambling to get out of the house, scurrying to his car in a frenzied hurry. Frankie pushed herself closer to the desk, the table's edge digging into her stomach as she signed off on the last paper, only half paying attention as she focused on keeping Josephine firmly in her peripheral vision.

After ten minutes of clumsy stalling, the knock of a fist against the back door came as a welcome intrustion, and Bucky was scarcely able to offer greetings before he found Frankie's lunch thrust into his hands.

"Wh-?"

"Go round the front - pretend I forgot this, and Rosie's asked you to bring it."

He looked down at the crumpled paper bag, nodding firmly. "Good plan. Great plan. Ok."

"Right, go."

Flashing her a grin of excitement, Bucky disappeared around the side of the building, appearing mere seconds later at the front entrace, her lunch held aloft as if in victory. Josephine did a double take, eyes widening slightly in recognition, whilst he seemed to be pretending he hadn't noticed her yet. It struck Frankie as an odd decision.

"Here you are," Bucky declared, holding the bag out to her with a smile as he approached. "Can't keep forgetting this. Feedin' two n' all."

"Oh! Yes, thank you," Frankie nodded. Even when unable to see her own face, she could tell her attempt at appearing surprised was not going terribly well.

"... John?" Josephine's voice intruded. He turned to face her. If Frankie's effort at feigning shock had been unsuccessful, his was worse.

"Jo? Huh! Fancy seeing you here!"

Jo's jaw hung slightly slack, gaze darting between them as the gears turned in her head. Bucky and Frankie stood frozen, waiting for her to speak.

"... Oh my god, you're married?!"

Some kind of terrible squawk escaped Frankie's throat, an awkward middle ground between a choke and a guffaw. "Oh, Jesus, no! No, no - see the Rosenthal & Co. sign outside? I'm the Rosenthal. He's Egan, completely unrelated."

Jo's frown faded slightly, brows still pinched as the shock of what she thought she'd realised slowly wore off. Briefly glancing at Bucky, he offered her an awkward thumbs-up.

"So... Who's the 'Co.'?"

"Right here," Frankie patted her stomach, which barely fit beneath the buttons of her coveralls.

"... Huh."

"We're just friends," Bucky assured. "We worked together during the war."

"This whole thing was just a set-up attempt, cuz he was at my house earlier talking about you," Frankie shrugged.

Suddenly the others were both staring at her with expressions of equal alarm. She paused, clicking her tongue awkwardly.

"I am... gonna go get your car. Just... carry on without me."

"Please go away now," Bucky uttered.

"Yep."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

5th January 1946

Christmas lights still bathed the living room in a flickering array of red and green, the tree long since wilted and thrown away, although neither of them had quite found the time to take down any of the other decorations. There always seemed to be another job that needed doing more urgently, and as the days passed, Frankie found herself more and more open to Rosie's pleas that she simply sit down, rest, and let him take care of it all.

He was lounging in one of the armchairs, newspaper unfolded in his lap, a few dry patched of paint still staining his shirt from where he'd helped her to finish painting the nursery. Padding across the room, Frankie's eyes screwed shut as she let out a yawn, only opening them as she felt his hand gently tugging at her wrist. She hadn't even had to look at him to know what he wanted, hearing the rustle of the newspaper being cast aside as she lowered herself to perch in his lap, wrapping an arm around the back of his neck as his hand rubbed circles against her spine.

"God, I'm bored of waiting for this baby," Frankie sighed. He hummed, breath warming her skin as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, a bubble of laughter escaping her throat.

"Not much longer now," He said, voice muffled against her as he held her as close as he could, the red and green lights reflecting against the polished metal of her ring.

"... You think it's time for the decorations to come down?" Rosie asked, chin resting against her shoulder as he glanced around the room.

"No," She tutted. "I like the idea of it still being Christmas when she gets here."

"You're so sure it's a girl?"

"Oh, yeah. And I'm always right."

"Of course."

A soft finger against his jaw tilted Rosie's face to look up, his eyes softening without delay the moment they landed upon her. Her hair had been messily scraped back into a ponytail, loose strands sticking out at every angle. But her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes were bright, and to him, she'd never been more beautiful. Frankie pressed a quick kiss to his lips, their foreheads resting against one another as they both let their gazes travel to her bulging stomach.

"You're gonna be such a good dad," She hummed, barely more than a whisper. He lifted his head, pressing another, longer kiss to her temple.

"She's gonna love you," He muttered against her skin. Frankie shrugged, fiddling with the cuff of her sleeve. After a beat of silence, Rosie pulled away, looking her in the face. "You okay, honey?"

"I dunno, I just," She sighed. "I don't remember my mum. I don't really remember how they're supposed to... be."

Sucking in a long, deep breath, he wrapped his arms tighter around her, a frown creasing his brow.

"You're not supposed to be anything. You're already the kindest, funniest, smartest person I know. And you've got your dad - if you're anything like him at all, our kid's gonna be just great."

Rosie chuckled as she wrapped her arms around his head, squeezing it in a vice grip. She kissed his scalp firmly before resting her cheek against his hair. "I love you."

"I love you so much," He said, muffled against her sweater. But she could hear the smile in his voice.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

10th January 1946

Frankie's face was still drenched with sweat, hair clinging to her temples as she cradled the tiny infant in her arms, unable to wipe the grin from her cheeks even for a second. Even as exhaustion willed her eyes to close, she couldn't bring herself to look away. "Oh, there you are," She whispered as a gurgle escaped the girl's throat, her hand so small it could do nothing but wrap around her mother's pinky finger.

Rosie wiped away the sweat from Frankie's brow, hand ceaselessly gentle. "You feeling okay?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," She nodded. He looked down at the baby in her arms, eyes welling with immediate tears. A tired laugh escaped Frankie's throat. "Oh, honey. You wanna hold her?"

Beaming at the prospect, he reached out to softly pry the child from her mother's grip, his hands so big against her tiny frame that it seemed almost impossible that something so small could even exist. "Hi there Maggie," He sang, sniffing loudly as he tried to blink away the tears before they could roll down his cheeks. Frankie reached out a hand, wiping them away with the pad of her thumb.

A soft knock sounded at the door, cautious and restrained as whoever stood outside waited patiently, hesitant to intrude.

"Come in!" Frankie called, voice mellow to avoid stirring the baby.

Creaking slowly open, George's head poked inside, a wide-eyed smile crumbling as she processed the scene in front of her. "God, I said I wasn't gonna cry," She tutted, wiping her eyes as she hovered in the doorway, as if hesitant to make her entrance before she'd fully composed herself.

"Oh, who cares, c'mere," Frankie laughed, holding out her arms as her best friend hurried forward. Passing the baby with barely more than a glance, she enveloped her in a fierce hug, perching on the edge of the bed beside her.

"I'm so proud of you," George choked back a sob, raising a hand to stroke Frankie's hair out of her face. "You smell terrible."

"Just like the old days, huh?" She laughed. "Although I did just have a bloody baby, do you actually want to see her?"

"Oh, shit, yeah," George sniffed, wiping her tears as she pulled out of the hug. Rosie was still standing in the corner with Maggie, a smitten smile creasing his cheeks, seemingly unaware of anything else around him.

"Rosie," Frankie prompted gently, snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," He looked up, edging towards George so that she could get a peek at the child beneath her bundle of blankets.

"Hiya," She whispered, grinning as she leaned closer, lifting her hand so that the baby could wrap a chubby hand around her finger. "What's her name?"

"Margaret. Well, Maggie," Rosie smiled.

"Margaret Georgina Rosenthal," Frankie pointed out, George's eyes widening as she turned to look back at her.

"Shut the fuck up," She blurted, hand raised almost immediately to cover her mouth, glancing nervously back at the baby as if she somehow understood. Rosie began to laugh, the vibration of his chest making Maggie gurgle happily. "You didn't."

He shrugged. "Well, we thought that you-"

"I don't even like that name!"

Frankie snorted. "I know!"

George groaned. "Fine, well, I think she suits it better anyway." She nodded to Rosie, wordlessly asking his permission, and he gently placed Maggie into her arms. "Yeah. She's a cool baby."

"Bucky's coming to see her later," Frankie said. "He'll be mad I didn't somehow find a way to name her after him."

"He's gonna cry," "He's gonna cry," George and Rosie stated simultaneously, lifting their gazes from the baby to look at each other, snorts of laughter escaping them both.

"Alright, that's enough, give me my baby," She grunted, shifting forward on the bed and holding out her arms. Maggie let out a series of gargling sounds as George lowered her into Frankie's arms, tiny eyes staring up at her mother as she held her close. She let out a faint chuckle, stroking her thumb across her cheek.

"Yeah... She is gonna be pretty great."

[hereforreadandwrite]

Madness Part 1

Masterlist

How did things get so bad?

How did you end up lying on the ground, blood coming out of your lips and throat? You saw a strange person loudly chewing on a piece of your flesh.

How did you get to this point?

Your life had gone wrong overnight. In just a few moments, your house had gone up in smoke, you had seen your parents and your sister burn alive, you had managed to save yourself by leaving through your bedroom window. At eight years old, you had been interned because of post-traumatic stress. For fifteen years, you were tortured by his doctors who had nothing to do with your well-being. They said they were healing you, but they weren't. You hated that hospital: the straitjacket, the sensory deprivation, the experimental drugs, the leeches, the electroshock therapy. You wanted out of here, but you were at the mercy of his doctors eager to learn about the human body. Everything had changed when they appeared in your room. A child accompanied by a butler. At first you thought they were a figment of your imagination, until the man named Sebastian took off your camisole.

"Are you…real?" you asked uncertain.

"As real as you are," the child replied, stepping closer to you. "My name is Ciel Phantomhive. I'm looking for personnel. People with certain characteristics."

"Particularity? Looking for staff? Did you take a good look at me? Are you looking for all your staff in a psychiatric hospital?" you asked as you pulled away from Sebastian.

"As the young master just said, he's only looking for people with certain quirks," Sebastian commented smiling at you. A smile that made you uncomfortable. "I did some research on you. You don't realize it, but you have an invaluable ability that you don't yet realize. We're sorely short of female staff. You'd be perfect as a maid."

"Priceless ability? Maid? I've been locked up here for twelve years! I may be crazy, but you seem even crazier," you say between your teeth.

"No previous experience is required here! We don't discriminate by age, race or history," Sebastian said ignoring what you had just said. "We guarantee payment and days off, and even provide luxury supplies like sugar and tea. The uniform is designed by a first-rate tailor. You could even get a raise depending on your performance. How about it? Not bad right?"

"You didn't listen to me," you growled annoyed.

"Fifteen years locked up and tortured in his hospital, that must be a long time," Ciel said looking down at you. "Doctors and nurses say you're crazy, but aren't we all? I can get you out of this place, you'll finally be free. And I could help you find out who kill your family . Or I can leave you here, in this sordid place. You will die alone, at the hands of his doctors."

You, being a maid? You felt like they were playing a joke on you. A joke in very bad taste. But it was your only chance to leave this Hell. You shook hands with the demon, accepting the walk. They took you out of the psychiatric hospital and you agreed to serve Ciel Phantomhive body and soul. The transition from a very poorly maintained hospital to a perfectly clean mansion had been a shock. Everyone here was perfectly clean. You looked like a disgusted rat. Head shaved, still wearing your straitjacket with your hospital gown dirty like your body. But the employees weren't judging you. Everyone seemed to have a past as checkered as yours. A crazy seamstress had arrived the day after you came to the mansion to make you an entire wardrobe. Ciel gave you a present, he had asked Nina Hopking to make you a top quality wig while your hair grew back. It was a second shock to see you so clean, with clothes as clean as you and hair. With this transformation, you swore to yourself to protect Ciel Phantomhive even if you had to die for it. He had saved your life. You had worked hard to become a good example, as much in your domestic tasks as in protecting the mansion from attackers. A year was gone. A year of hard work. During two years, you had believed that your loyalty to the earl would be unfailing until Jack the Ripper struck. Ciel had decided to take you with him and Sebastian to his townhouse and from that moment your life took another turn.

"So, what is this place?" Lau asked, glaring at Ciel with his everlasting friendly smile.

"Why are you familiar with this kind of place?!" Madame Red shouted at Lau.

Sebastian explained that the business they were standing in front of was an undertaker run by an acquaintance of Ciel. You had never heard of this person. Anyway, you had been there for a year and the count was within his rights not to tell you anything. Sebastian opened the door, letting Ciel enter the building. The place was plunged into darkness, there were coffins on the floor and leaning against the wall. You were looking around uncomfortably when a laugh sounded in the room. You moved closer to Ciel, lifting your skirt slightly to put your hand on your gun.

"I knew that you would come," a man's voice reasoned as he pushed open the lid of the coffin he was hidden in. "Do you want to see how it feels to sleep in my custom-made coffin?"

"I didn't come here to play today…," Ciel began before being cut off by Undertaker who put his finger to his lips.

"You don't need to tell me," Undertaker replied, stepping back when you stood in front of Ciel. "I know why you came. With just one look~ I can tell what's on your mind. Since the earl went out of his wa to visit me. I'll certainly do everything I can to help."

"Do you know something?" Ciel asked, waving you back.

"I didn't know you had a new maid, earl~" Undertaker commented as he approached you. "What's your name, poppet?"

"(Y-Y/N), sir."

"You can call me Undertaker, (Y/N)."

Undertaker was no ordinary man. He was goofy, his payment was laughable, which was kind of weird, but who were you to judge him? With himself working, he didn't have to see funny things every day. He had provided information on the serial killer: Jack the Ripper. After the case, you decided to visit him.

"My, my~ Wouldn't that be Earl Phantomhive's maid. It's nice to see you again, (Y/N)," Undertaker greeted, stepping closer to you. "What is this visit worth to me?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you in your work."

"You don't bother me, Poppet. I knew you would come," he said, running his hand through your hair, watching your eyes intently. "You have beautiful eyes~"

"Did you know? How can you know that kind of thing?" you asked, taking a step back, embarrassed by the compliment.

"It's a secret. I'll make us some tea. Take a seat wherever you want~"

Undertaker went to the back room, leaving you alone in the shop. You were looking around when your gaze fell on a particular coffin. You wanted to open it, but it would be an aberration if you did. You shook your head away from the coffin that aroused your curiosity. Undertaker came back into the room with his beakers full of tea. He gave you one of the beakers by opening a jar filled with bone-shaped biscuit.

"Take seat~ Take seat~ you have some time don't you?"

"It's my day off. The Count isn't expecting me," you say, sitting down uncomfortably on one of the coffins.

"So it's my lucky day~"

You just nodded as you took a sip of your tea, watching Undertaker fill out various forms while munching on his cookies. This man was really strange.

"You wanted to ask me something, (Y/N)?" Undertaker asked, leaving his papers to stare at you.

"Hm? Uh…that's right. You're doing research for the young master, aren't you?"

"Yes and?"

"Is it possible for you to do a search for me?"

"It depends, what do you want me to do for research?"

"My family died in a fire. My family's stupid lawyer says my cat, my Dinah, knocked over an oil lamp. But that's impossible."

"And why this?"

"Because…she had come to bed with me. She couldn't knock over an oil lamp. I was the last person to leave the library and I did extinguish the fireplace."

"So…you think it was arson?" Undertaker asked while eating a cookie.

"I don't know. After all this time, I don't remember if I put out the fire properly. But at night during the fire, I saw a centaur."

"A centaur? Are you sure?"

"Yes! I saw him come out of my sister's room. He ran away when he saw me and then… my house and my family were burnt down."

Your grip tightened on the beaker. Even if all this made no sense, you were sure and certain that it was because of this centaur that your family died. Undertaker closed his jar, left his office and approached you. He cupped your chin between his fingers, lifting your head.

"Alright, I'll do a little research, poppet. But there's a price to pay," Undertaker said.

"You… you want to laugh, right?"

"Not this time," he said, licking his lips. "This time I want something else."

You didn't have time to ask what he wanted until his lips landed on yours. In shock, you had no idea to react. Undertaker took advantage of your surprise to pass his tongue over your lips, which brought you out of your stupor. You tried to push the mortician away, parting your lips to catch your breath, but he took advantage of this moment to stick his tongue in your mouth, starting a wild dance with his twin. Your hands gripped Undertaker's robe as he grabbed your waist, pressing his body against yours. Undertaker broke the kiss, finally letting you breathe. Your cheeks were now flushed with embarrassment and excitement.

"This payment will be enough for now, love~" he said in a low, seductive voice. "Come back to me in three days, Poppet~ I'll have all the information you want to hear~ Give my regards to the Count~"

You nodded in response, your voice stuck in your throat. You felt like your legs were freezing her. You heard Undertaker laughing as you stumbled out of the store. You didn't understand why Undertaker did that.

You went to see him again three days later to get the information you wanted. When you arrived in front of the shop, you had had a lump in your stomach. What if he did it again? But you needed his information. You needed to know what had happened to your family. You walked into Undertaker's shop, your heart pounding. The undertaker was waiting for you, sitting on his desk, two beakers of tea in his hands. You felt your cheeks flush as you saw Undertaker smiling at you with the same enigmatic smile that graced his lips.

"Hi Poppet~ Come and get settled, I have a lot to tell you~"

You approached Undertaker who handed you a beaker. You thanked him with a nod as you took your place on one of the coffins.

"So…? Did you find anything?" you asked uncomfortably.

"Lots of things~ especially one thing that might hurt you," Undertaker said taking out a bone cookie.

"What is it?"

"You remember seeing a centaur that came out of your sister's room. What else do you remember?"

"I heard Lizzie talking in her sleep."

"Had she ever done that before?"

Now that he said it, Lizzie had never spoken in her sleep. She had never locked her bedroom door again, it made her feel like she was locked in a cage.

"The fire couldn't have killed her," Undertaker said before taking a sip of his tea. "His room was furthest from the fire. He didn't asphyxiate her. She could have got out otherwise, through the window for example. Like you did. Someone must have immobilized or killed your sister, locked her in, then started the fire downstairs to cover up his crime. This person wanted to kill you all. Neither you nor your cat set the fire, (Y/N). Centaurs n don't exist, unlike doctors."

"Doctor… im-im-impossible… it can't…"

Fear descends on you, like thousands of daggers that pierce you at the same time. Undertaker was right, centaurs never existed. His devil creatures never existed, unlike doctors, especially this particular doctor. Tears were streaming down your pale cheeks, your breathing became jerky, your fingers began to go numb. You were having a panic attack. Undertaker moved closer to you, he cupped your face in his hands, lifting your head to force you to look at him. You see them take a deep breath and exhale. You imitated him, gradually finding your normal breathing. The undertaker sat down next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders to pull you into a hug.

"You had nothing to do with it, Poppet. What happened last night wasn't your fault. You were just a child."

"I saw it…"

"Hmm?"

"I saw him, a half-hearted student. I remember him! That key! Lizzie's!" you say between your teeth taking deep breaths. "He used it against me to make me forget what he did to my sister. Lord, my poor Lizzie."

"Now that you have the answers you wanted, what are you going to do?"

You had made Bumby pay for what he had done to your sister, your family and her poor children whom he had broken up to sell as sex slaves. You got Lizzie's key. Finally, you had the answers you had been waiting for for so many years.

"So? What are you going to do now?"

Your gaze fell on Undertaker. After neutralizing Bumby, you went to the cemetery to announce the good news to your family. The undertaker had appeared out of nowhere, but you didn't care too much to pay attention to that detail.

"I don't know. I stayed alive to find out the truth. I promised myself to stay loyal to the Earl. But even though he didn't help me find my family's murderer, he did when even got him out of the hospital."

You were surprised when you felt Undertaker's hand pull your wig off. You clapped your hands on your head. After two years, your hair had grown back into a little boyish haircut, but you didn't like people seeing your real hair.

"Give them back to me!" you cried, trying to get your wig back.

Undertaker put his arm around your waist, hugging you. You were mortified, your body frozen with embarrassment. Was Undertaker having fun humiliating you? The mortician was watching you intently, his left eye visible. He ran his finger over your cheek, tucking a stray strand behind your ear.

"Why are you wearing that wig?" he asked running his fingers through your hair.

"It's…it's a gift from the Count. Give me back my wig, I need it…"

"Ah sorry Poppet~ I didn't mean to upset you," he said as he put your wig back on your head. "Let me fix it~"

Undertaker arranged your wig to make you look presentable. You glared at the man with long gray/silver hair who placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, love. I'm sorry if I made you angry," Undertaker apologized, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "But I have a request for you. What I found deserves more than just a kiss~don't you think~"

Your cheeks turned red. You pushed Undertaker away, telling him you weren't a prostitute. This simple sentence made the undertaker who was rolling in the grass roar with laughter. You looked at him surprised as he regained his composure. He stood up saying you were hilarious. Definitely, this man was the strangest.

"I don't want a carnal relationship, my dear. No~ No~ what I want is for you to visit me on your days off~"

"Is that all you want?" you asked uncomfortably.

"Yes~ I am a man of my word~"

You accepted Undertaker's request. You visited him on your days off. Strangely, you were counting the days until your holidays. You enjoyed visiting Undertaker, despite the kissing incident. You caught yourself telling him about what happened to you in the psychiatric hospital, your old life with your family, your life at the mansion and other things. A few days before you embarked on the Campania with the young count, you had gone to Undertaker to tell him that you would be away for a while. Ciel had asked you to accompany him with Snake and Sebastian, of course. He also ordered you to keep quiet about why you were boarding the Campania. Apparently Karnstein Hospital had found a way to bring the dead back to life. It was ridiculous, but with everything you've been through, it wouldn't really surprise you.

"Hey~ the Earl is selfish to keep you all to himself for his three weeks," Undertaker commented as he hugged you and rested his chin on your head. "Wouldn't you like to stay with me for her three weeks?"

"And it is the young master who is selfish?" you replied with a sigh.

"Eheheh~ Sorry~Sorry~ It's okay if you leave. I'm going to be away for a while as well," he said letting go of you to go to his kitchen. "Make yourself at home, Poppet~"

You watched Undertaker disappear into the kitchen, presumably to make some tea. Your gaze rested on one coffin in particular. You didn't know why, but you had a morbid curiosity about this coffin. Why did no one come to claim this coffin? Why wasn't Undertaker going to put him in a mass grave? Who could possibly be in this coffin? You moved closer to the coffin, looking towards the kitchen, making sure the undertaker was still busy. You swallow, grabbing the edge of the lid, forcing it a little to lift it up a bit. You didn't have time to open the coffin enough to see who was inside when a pair of hands suddenly landed on the lid, closing the coffin with a crash. Your body tensed as you felt Undertaker lean against your back, his hair tickling your cheeks and his lips brushing your ear. Your heart was beating incredibly fast in your chest.

"I didn't know you were a curious little mouse, Poppet~"

"I'm… I'm sorry, Undertaker. That's…"

"There's something special about this coffin," he whispered in your ear, stroking the lid. "One thing I seek to fix."

"W-wait Undertaker!" you cried, managing to get out of his grip, placing your hands on his chest to push him back. "I'm sorry for going through your stuff. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

You looked at the ground ashamed of your behavior. Normally, you would never have done such a thing. Your behavior made the Undertaker chuckle. The mortician took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to raise your head.

"You really are an interesting mortal, (Y/N)," Undertaker commented, bringing his face dangerously close to yours. "With such a beautiful soul~"

Undertaker dropped your chin, running his fingers down your throat, then down your chest. You felt your cheeks warm when the mortician squeezed your left breast in his hand. To your surprise, Undertaker tipped you over the coffin. He clapped his hands on either side of your head and placed his leg between yours. You were trapped.

"Such a sweet soul~" he said placing his head on your chest. "So full of life~ Aaah~ I would so love to kidnap her. Keep her to myself for eternity. Maybe this is the only way to save you, you wouldn't mind me kidnapping you to keep you just for me?"

You didn't know what to answer. You'd be lying if you said that proposal wasn't tempting. To be with Undertaker for eternity? Your irrational side was screaming for you to accept this proposal, but your rational side was screaming at you to run away as far as possible. You were shaking. You didn't know if it was fear or excitement. All this was strange, terrifying and exciting. Undertaker sighed loudly as he tightened his grip before letting go of you to straighten up. For the first time since you had met the undertaker, you saw his eyes. Mesmerizing green/yellow eyes and a long scar lined his face.

"Excuse me, Poppet. I didn't mean to scare you," Underaker apologized, placing a quick kiss on your lips.

Undertaker stood up before helping you to your feet. He readjusted your dress and restyled your hair to make you look presentable. All of this was terribly embarrassing.

"Hm…you…you said you were going to be away too," you say, hoping to break through that unease.

"Right," Undertaker replied, brushing his hair back over his eyes. "I have some business to attend to outside of London."

"I… I see. I have to go. The young count must be waiting for me," you say, pointing your finger at the door. "So…"

Undertaker smiled seeing you so uncomfortable. The undertaker was leaning towards you, kissing your temple.

"We'll see you soon, Poppet~ Pass my regards to the Count."

After this strange visit, you left the shop in perplexity. Undertaker was a strange man, but what just happened was even more strange than usual. You returned to the cart to return to the Phantomhive mansion and prepare for the cruise. Even if it was for an investigation to reassure her majesty, it will be the first time that you will travel aboard a luxury freighter for three long weeks.

Seeing the liner on D-Day made you nervous. It was the first time that Sebastian and the Count allowed you to come on one of their missions, you weren't going to be able to enjoy this sumptuous trip. Elizabeth had wept with joy when she saw that Ciel had "surprised" her. At least you had an excuse. It took another three days to wait for the Aurora company meeting. You had disguised yourself to go unnoticed and avoid a scandal. You had traded your wig (Y/H/C) for long red hair, a fake pair of glasses was placed on your nose and you had traded skilled servants for a crimson red dress. Ciel had put on a blonde wig and traded in his eye patch for bandages. And Sebastian had just put on a wig. The butler quickly explained what you were going to have to do to make it look like you were part of Aurora society. Ciel was mortified and you uncomfortable at the thought of striking such a pose. The young count took a glass of water at an exorbitant price. The smoking room was filled with well-to-do people waiting impatiently for the meeting to begin.

"Are you firts timers?" asked a man who had just noticed your arrival.

"The… the complete flame in our chests…," Ciel began uncomfortably.

"Shall not be extinguished by anyone," the man continued.

"We are…The Phoenix!"

Striking the Phoenix pose was terribly embarrassing. You and Ciel were red as peonies, but at least the man was satisfied. He welcomed you to the company and gave you three Phoenix badges. Giggles came to your ears. You and the young Earl were surprised to see Undertake, laughing.

"Saying "The Phoenix!" with such a serious face hahaha!" Undertaker exclaimed.

"You bastard!" exclaimed Ciel mortifying.

"Now, now young master," Sebastian said.

"Undertaker? What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to forget your embarrassment.

"My job, Poppet. The hospital is a regular customer of mine," Undertaker explained, regaining his composure.

"We're investigating the illegal human experimentation going on here though. Do you know anything about the revival of the dead?" Ciel asked, glaring at his informant.

"Just a sec, if you want information then I want my compensation," Undertaker stopped chuckling. "Let's see~ How about you do that pose once more?"

"Who the hell will…?!!!

"The Phoenix!!!"

Ciel and Sebastian's attention was drawn to none other than the Viscount of Druitt. Undertaker took advantage of his moment of inattention to grab your hand and lead you with him, through the crowd, away from Ciel and Sebastian.

"U-Undertaker? What are you doing?"

"Hush, it's starting," Undertaker said, pointing to men carrying a coffin to the makeshift stage.

A young man, probably in his late twenties, came onto the stage. No doubt a doctor saw the white coat he was wearing.

"Who is that man?" you asked looking at the puzzled Undertaker.

"The Founder: Ryan Stoker. An idiot."

"Hey?"

"Nothing, Poppet," the undertaker replied, hugging you, resting his chin on your head.

"The complete flame in our chest shall not be extinguished by anyone," Ryan said before striking the Phoenix pose. "We are the Phoenix!!! Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for coming to today's research presentation of the Aurora society's "complete salvation of making through medicine". What is complete salvation you say? That is… COMPLETE HEALTH!!! A healthy body! Healthy teeth! A healthy spirit housed within a healthy body! And finally, a healthy mood! HEALTHINESS IS TRULY SPLENDID!!!"

"W-what?" you asked lost. "What he is talking about?"

"Shhh~ The best part is coming~"

"However, there's the worst kind of health issue that we can't overcome no matter how hard we try," Rya continued, placing her hand on the coffin. "What is that, you say? Death! And the great power that will save us from this disaster is THE AURORA SOCIETY'S MEDICINE!!!! We will now show you ladies and gentlemen. The fruits of our "complete salvation of manking through medicine "research."

Two men removed the lid of the coffin where a young girl was. A shiver ran up your spine as you leaned against Undertaker's chest. You felt bad.

"Are you all right, Poppet?" Undertaker asked running his fingernail through your hair.

"That girl reminds me of Lizzie," you say looking away from the scene. "I…I don't want to watch this. Besides, it's cruel to make someone believe that you can bring a dead person back to life."

"Ummm~ Do you mean?"

"Yes! How can they mourn properly?"

"Who knows~ But watch carefully what's next Poppet~"

Even though you didn't feel like it, you brought your attention back to the scene. Ryan's men placed electrodes on the deceased's chest and temples. Ryan sent powerful electric shocks into the body before stopping the machine and ordering the deceased to get up, like the Phoenix. To your surprise, and that of the crowd, the body began to move. The resurrected young girl stood up, under the tearful eyes of her parents and the admiration of the crowd. You remained speechless in front of this scene. How could that be possible? No one could defeat death, not even my medicine. You had a very bad feeling. The crowd began to applaud Ryan for this complete salute. But something was strange in the behavior of the young girl, she was perhaps "awakened", but she did not seem more alive than before. The mother hugged her daughter, crying with joy and thanking the doctor, but to everyone's surprise, the girl opened her mouth as wide as she could to bite her mother's shoulder. Blood spurted from the wound, the mother's cry of pain echoed in the quiet room. There was silence for a few seconds before people started screaming and fleeing the scene. You didn't have time to do anything that Undertaker dragged you behind the machine that had just "resuscitated" the young woman.

"What do you-"

"Hush!"

Undertaker had just clapped his hand over your mouth. You looked at the undertaker surprised by his behavior. His attention was focused on the undead advancing towards Sebastian and Ciel. You saw the butler throw knives at the monster's vital points, but it had no effect. How could that thing still move after Sebastian's knives had touched its heart?

"We've seen enough. Let's get out of here Poppet."

"W-wait! Undertaker!"

Undertaker took you with him out of the room, taking you away from Ciel and Sebastian. You were trying to pull your wrist out of the undertaker's grip, but he was determined to take you with him. You tried to talk to him, but Undertaker pretended not to hear you. You understood that you had no choice but to follow the undertaker through the corridors of the liner until you arrived in a room where you were pushed unceremoniously. You turned to the undertaker, but he quickly locked the door, trapping you in the room. You rushed to the door, trying in vain to open it.

"Undertaker! What's wrong with you?!" you asked, banging on the door. "Let me out!"

"Sorry Poppet. You better stay in there. I don't want you to get hurt. It's the last thing I want," Undertaker replied, his voice muffled by the door. "You don't fear anything here. Stay quietly there until I return. I won't be long."

You heard Undertaker's footsteps walking away from the room. He really just locked you in that room? What was happening? First this girl coming back to life and devouring people, then Undertaker decides to lock you up without giving you a plausible explanation. What were you supposed to do? You couldn't stay locked in this room, but what could you do? You had to calm down and think of a way out of this room. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard people screaming in terror and running through the hallways. What was happening? There was another strange noise reaching your ears. Rattles. What was happening? You had to get out of here. Your gaze swept the room when you saw an air vent. It was big enough for you to fit in. You pushed the desk to reach your only exit. You manage, with some difficulty, to open the gate and slip into the ducts. Screams of terror, pain and gasps echoed through the vents. You stopped in front of a gate to see what was making people hysterical. The living were chased by other undead. Was that why Undertaker locked you in his room? Did he know what was going to happen? A violent jolt shook the liner. The tremor lasted a good minute until everything became "calm" again. Did he hit something? You crawled back through the vents, looking for a hallway quiet enough to get out of there. You found a deserted corridor, there was not the slightest living and the slightest death. You opened the grille and pulled out the air ducts. This place was way too quiet. You took out your revolver before setting off. You had to find the Count and Sebastian. And quick. You were running through the long dark corridors. The corridors were all alike, this liner was a real labyrinth, it reminded you of the hospital.

"The hospital…," you muttered before shaking your head. "No, (Y/N)! Stay focused!"

You quickly set off through this maze. The liner was leaning dangerously, it was only a matter of a minute before it sank forever in the ocean. You'll run through the long corridors, passing several doors to arrive in a reception room. The huge room was empty, all the furniture had been knocked over and the majority of the doors were blocked, the corpses of half-eating people littered the floor in a pool of blood. How could things have gotten so bad? The huge room was empty, all the furniture had been knocked over and most of the doors were blocked, half-eaten corpses were strewn on the floor in a pool of blood. It reminded you of that night, it looked like it. Deaths, blood, screams, tears. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a door open. You got into a fighting stance when you saw a group of men alive, along with Undertaker, Sebastian, and Ciel. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you saw that they weren't injured, but your attention quickly fell on the strange machine that Undertaker and three other men were carrying. The undertaker put the machine down, under the watchful eyes of Viscount and Ciel, before approaching you.

"You should have stayed in the bedroom, Poppet," Undertaker commented as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You know what's going on on that liner, don't you?" you asked, sternly eyeing the undertaker.

"Ah~ that~ that's another story, Poppet~"

"Ah! Bastard!! Why did you take the device?!!!"

Ryan had just walked into the room with two other people you had never seen. You thought he was talking to the Viscount, but when he spoke, the doctor's eyes fell on him. It was not the Viscount he was addressing. You looked at Undertaker who chuckled as he tightened his grip on your waist. The Viscount fantasized about a new era, which he would name "The Aurora Empire". Either the man or woman was activating his chainsaw, saying he/she was going to paint it red, but Druitt was leaning his wine glass dangerously over the machine. The blonde laughed, saying he could beat everyone here with just a glass of wine.

"I'm going to kill him," you say, glaring Druitt sternly.

"Eheheh~ Not yet, Poppet~"

To your surprise, and that of the others, hundreds of undead broke the windows, clumped together and forming a traffic jam, a few managed to enter. There were far too many of his creatures to fight. Ciel asked the Viscount to activate the machine, but the Viscount announced that his title no longer suited him and that he would activate the machine only if the little Count called him Caesar. What was the problem with this guy who compared himself to Emperor Nero? The man/woman with long red hair ordered Druitt to activate the machine, losing what little patience he/she had. Druitt smiled ordering everyone in the room to do the phoenix dance to prove their loyalty. The three men and the man/woman looked at Druitt with the same idea in mind, to kill him.

"Oh no," Undertaker chuckled, rubbing your cheek against your hair. "Are you sure you don't want to know how that device works? You must too, Poppet."

Ciel glared at Undertaker who chuckled as he imagined this most hilarious scene.

"What are you doing? Come on!" Druitt exclaimed.

"The… the complete flame in our chests," Ciel and Sebastian began.

"Shall not be extinguished by anyone," Grell and Ronald continued.

"The nex embodiment of. We are…," Druitt continued.

"The Phoenix!!!"

The word Phoenix echoed around the room as the group struck a Phoenix pose. Druitt congratulated the group, announcing that he would show them how the army of the dead would bow down to him. Druitt turned on the machine, the light bulbs lit up, sparks appeared, then nothing, the machine went out on its own in front of everyone's eyes. Undertaker's laugh echoed around the room, you saw the undertaker roll on the floor and hold his ribs. Why the machine was not working? Wasn't the Viscount who built this thing?

"Bastard! So you fooled me?!" yelled Ryan annoyed.

You looked at Ryan surprised. It wasn't Druitt he was yelling at, it was…

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the sound of the chainsaw motor. You saw Grell leap from the balcony, slicing the undead in half, before rushing at Druitt. You didn't have time to react when Undertaker moved in front of the Viscount, blocking Grell's chainsaw with a sotobari.

"Un-Undertaker?" you asked surprised.

"Hehe… it's been a while since I've laughed so much to lose such an amusing man would be like losing the whole world to me…," Undertaker commented quietly as he removed his top hat. "Don't you agree? Shinigami?"

"The deathscythe's blade can't cut it?!" exclaimed Grell surprised.

Undertaker pushed Grell away, opening his jacket to reveal the sotobaris hiding beneath. Undertaker smiled as he sent sotobari at Grell, who shielded himself with his chainsaw, but one of the sotobari grazed the Shinigami's temple. Grave markers shattered the huge glass. Your legs had turned to jelly, you collapsed on the stairs, staring at Undertaker in shock. What was he doing? What was happening?

"Ahh…how sad…," Undertaker commented, brushing hair from his face, revealing his green/yellow eyes and the scar across his face. "How sad it would be should laughter disappear."

Ciel was as surprised as you to find Undertaker's true face. You shielded your face as the shards of glass crashed to the floor. You didn't want to watch this show. You didn't want to be there. You were praying this was all a nightmare and you were going to wake up. You felt like your head was underwater, it was way too much information to take in all at once. You vaguely heard Sebastian say that he had never noticed the undertaker's true nature and that he had concealed his eyes very well, while Ronald and Grell understood that Undertaker was a Shinigami. Undertaker sneered, saying it hadn't been called that for half a century.

shinigami? What was this thing? What was happening? Why did things get so bad? You lay curled up on the floor, digging your nails into your skull. Your heart was beating insanely fast in your chest, your fingers were numb, your breathing was erratic, you were having a panic attack. What were you supposed to do? To run away? Combat? Do nothing? You vaguely heard Ryan yell at Undertaker, but you felt like your head was under water. The young doctor didn't understand why the Shinigami had lied to him? The whole thing about going to America to spread complete salvation was a lie. All Undertaker replied was that he thought this would all be fun, since Ryan was trying, seriously, to bring the dead back to life and he was the perfect person to achieve his goal. The terrible truth fell on Ryan, he had been manipulated from the start. The young man fell to his knees, horrified by this truth.

"So in the other words, you're the mastermind behind the Aurora society's human ressurection experiments, Undertaker!" Ciel exclaimed, eyeing the undertaker.

"That's a secret," Undertaker replied before sighing with a shrug. "is what I'd like to say, but by doing that Phoenix pose, you've paid me for an awful amount of information. So I'll tell you. Hehe~ It's true that I was the one who made these moving corpses ."

"Why?!"

"Ah yes… at first, it was probably just my curiosity toward humans," Undertaker began, tapping the tip of his sotobari on the ground.

Humans were a body of flesh and a soul. If brought together, they could exist among the living and continue to record their memories in the cinematic lantern. And when the body of flesh withers and a Shinigami comes to collect the soul, the film stops and the living becomes dead. The Shinigami then takes the soul from the body from a list and thus ends the kaleidoscope. Day after day, quietly, indifferently, Undertaker lived this Shinigami life for a long time when one day he said to himself: what if the ending had a continuation? What would happen to the body if a sequel was added to its memories that ended when the soul is removed?

"Shinigami only hunt souls after all. The body and the brain that holds the memories are left in this world," Undertaker continued.

"Hehe~ Well then how about you take a look at their records with your own abilities?" Undertaker asked, pointing to one of the undead.

Grell activated her chainsaw to cut off the heads of two walking corpses, revealing their cinematic lantern. At first, everything was normal, then after the lantern ended, the two Shinigami and the demon were surprised to see that Undertaker had added a film of him doing anything. Which had the gift of making Grell hysterical. You ignored everything they were saying, covering your ears with your hands so as not to hear anything anymore. You had to calm down, to come to your senses. You could see Undertaker, the two other Shinigami and Sebastian fighting among themselves. But no sound reached your ears, you could just hear the beating of your heart which was deafening, your breathing was erratic, your heart was beating at a crazy speed and you had the impression that your legs were made of lead. You were having a panic attack. Your attention was quickly diverted from the fight to be brought back to Ciel. The teenager was talking to you, but his voice couldn't reach you. You were just watching his lips move when your attention was drawn to one of the walking corpses rushing at Ciel. You were brought out of your panic attack, grabbing the young Count by the collar of his jacket to throw him over the banister.

Ciel looked at you surprised when he saw you grab him by the collar of his shirt to lift him off the ground and throw him over the banister. During his fall, he saw the corpse throw itself at you, pinning you to the ground and sinking its teeth into your throat before its body hit the ground heavily, cutting off its breath.

The cry of pain that escaped from your mouth, feeling the corpse sink its teeth deep into your flesh and tear it out, resonated in the room. A metallic taste invaded your mouth, you had trouble breathing. You could only see the walking corpse chewing noisily on the piece of your own flesh.

You saw the man/woman with long red hair land next to you and pull out a notebook.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N), born in 1864, aged twenty-five, dies of a hemorrhage. Nothing special," Grell said with a chuckle.

Dead…?

You were dying?

So this is how you were going to die?

"Poor thing," Grell chuckled. "A life of misery with an equally miserable end. Be glad to be free of this miserable existence."

As you heard this person speak to you, you saw your vision begin to darken, the noise stopped reaching your ears and then it was black and complete silence.

[evesaintyves]

so in the allegedly non-homophobic spirit of this cursed genre of post (which, props to this one for at least saying the quiet part loud: that these criticisms are exclusively directed toward queer pairings), and inspired by a prompt of sorts from fandom gem @saintsenara -

i wrote some platonic jily and i completely agree, they're better as friends.

never mind the prosecco, here's the potter-malfoy-potter-blacks

Rated M | Jily, Narlily, Jegulus, Drarry | AU - everyone lives and it's like 2010 | tw choking, pussy juice, eggs

Three things occurred to Lily, leaning back on the island of cool italian marble in the fuck-off big kitchen of this ridiculous house: one, that she had no idea where all this was coming from, as James had never given a single fuck in his life about womens' Quidditch; two, that even three decades after they'd split up he was still obviously desperate for her to think he was cool; and three, that he was burning Regulus's eggs.

"So what the Harpies have done," he patiently explained as if she was listening, "is create a turn-based system for rotating positions—so every player has experience with beating, seeking, and so on—that way everyone's aware of the weak points—" he seemed to catch on that she wasn't making eye-contact, and tossed his mop of silvering hair. "The Weasley girl was on the Wireless about it this morning. Really inspiring."

He turned back to the crispy eggs and stirred them vigourously. They made a sort of crackling noise.

"I guess I'm just not sure why you're telling me," Lily said, taking the moment to finally do what she'd come to the kitchen for: grabbing a fresh bottle of prosecco from the fridge.

"Well, it's incredible what these girls are coming up with. 'The future is female,' I saw that on someone's shirt the other day."

He glanced eagerly at her over his shoulder.

"Cool," she said.

"Never mind the prosecco," Narcissa drawled, sweeping into the kitchen in her marabou-feather gown. "Draco's popped a button on his robes, so he'll be calling any moment."

"Do you mend buttons?" James asked with genuine interest.

Narcissa made an appalled face and gathered the lapels of her robe together.

"Have you not finished?" Regulus said sourly, coming down the stairs. Looking directly at Lily, he added, "This kitchen has smelled like a crematorium ever since you let Boopsy go."

Lily - still on the defensive after all these years! - crossed her arms and replied, "I didn't 'let her go,' she was legally emancipated and got a job at Pret a Manger."

Regulus waved a hand in the air, making the slight haze of egg-smoke swirl prettily in the light. "It's political correctness gone mad," he muttered.

Inexplicably, James got one of his big simpy grins, beckoned Regulus over, and smacked a kiss on his pale brow.

Draco apparated into their midst with a pop and instantly recoiled at the sight of them.

"Potters," he spat, by way of greeting. "Er—" he nodded to Regulus, whose name he could never seem to remember. Narcissa glided over and took his face in her hands.

"Oh, darling, come here, I've been waiting all morning to see you."

Lily, concerned she might not be effectively controlling her facial expression, turned to slot the prosecco bottle back into the fridge. Narcissa had actually spent most of the morning sprawled on her back with her thighs squishing the sides of Lily's face.

Draco squirmed slightly under his mother's hands. "It's all the buttons under the third one," he said gruffly, thrusting an armful of jacquard robes at Narcissa.

"Sweet boy," Narcissa cooed, "I'll send it out to the tailor immediately. How ever did you manage to break them?"

With another pop, Harry apparated into the room.

"Hi Mum," he said. "Dad. Hi Cissa and Reg."

James disentangled his arms from Regulus's and clapped Harry on the back. "Wha gwan, son?" he roared happily, and even with his back turned Lily could see Harry's shoulders cringe.

"I told you—" Draco began through his teeth.

"You were taking forever," Harry shrugged.

"I'm glad you're here," James said, very serious furrows appearing in his brow. "I was just listening to that bird you used to go out with on the wireless—"

"Oh!" Narcissa exclaimed, still petting Draco's face. "Darling, will you show everyone the trick you taught me last week?" To the room: "You'll all want to see this, it's marvellous. Draco's enchanted a mirror to do something incredible."

Draco sighed defeatedly. To Harry, he said, "Let me see your phone."

Harry pulled a slim black piece of glass out of his pocket, and, with a sideways glance at Lily, tapped and swiped at it with his fingers a few times before handing it to Draco.

"This mirror," Narcissa was saying, "quite remarkable, really—all you do is push a button on it, and a horrible little muggle comes to your door and brings you a prawn fettucine. Draco, please—" she scrabbled at the glass in his hand. "—will you push the fettucine button for mummy?"

"It's called Seamless, Mother," Draco mumbled, and just as he did Narcissa pulled a face and slid her finger round the collar of her son's shirt.

"Draco," she said, with a kind of horror rising in her voice, "What's happened to your neck? Is it dirt—?"

A flush instantly came to Draco's face and Harry twisted round from his one-sided conversation with James to give Draco a rather pointed look.

"Mother, stop, it's nothing," he said, pulling away. And on Harry's face was a look Lily had seen on James a thousand times, back in their day: like he was trying, but not particularly hard, not to look smug.

James's eyes shifted between Harry and Draco and he seemed, bless him, to finally clock what was going on. He pulled Harry by the shoulder to the other side of the kitchen and began to speak to him in hushed tones.

"You want to put all the pressure on the sides, not the front," he was saying.

Regulus went and scraped his ruined eggs into the bin, obviously eavesdropping, then put the pan back on the stove without shutting off the flame. The tang of hot metal began to compete with the crematorium smell and Lily wondered if anyone would notice if she got the prosecco back out and necked it.

"Regulus," she sighed. "Anything new with you?"

Regulus looked startled to be spoken to.

"Not really," he said, eyes shifting round the room. "I don't actually have all that much going on, canonically."

"Can—what?"

"Do you know how to make eggs?" he said hopefully.

"I think I've a salve for that," Narcissa was telling Draco, leading him by the hand into the suite she shared with Lily. "Well, it's more of an eye cream, but it's done absolute wonders for me—"

"You can do real damage to the trachea that way," James was explaining to Harry, demonstrating with a cupped hand to his neck.

"I work in Magical Law Enforcement," Harry deadpanned. "I think I know how to fucking choke someone."

Regulus emitted the strangely high-pitched giggle Lily was always hearing from inside the cup-strewn, bleach-smelling lair he shared with James.

"Why does it smell like—" Draco stopped in Lily and Narcissa's doorway. With narrowed eyes, he hissed to his mother, "I thought you were all in some sort of... like, queerplatonic... situation...?"

James's brow got those furrows again.

"What's queerplatonic?" he whispered to Lily.

"It means nobody fucks," she whispered back.

James squared his shoulders and took a step forward as if he might try to fight Draco.

---

"We raised a good kid," James would tell Lily later, after they'd put out the fire on the stove, slightly misty-eyed with nostalgia and the acrid smoke. "All of us," he'd add, with a nod toward Lily and Narcissa's side of the house, which was now perfumed rather pleasantly with a melange of prosecco, wet pussy and prawn fettucine.

"Yeah," Lily would say wistfully. "Shit taste in men, though."

"Well, it runs in the family." James would ruffle his hair, the way he tended to. After a pause, he'd venture: "And I daresay you and I had a pretty good run, didn't we?"

Lily would tip the bottle up and drain the last of the prosecco at that. James would hold out his hand, and she'd pass him the empty bottle. He'd try to take a drink, then bin it with a disgruntled look.

"It was all right," she'd say.

[corvuscorona]

You're my only hope, I'm having a very hard time hearing what Astos says in the entire fight that isn't subtitled, and I'm desperate. Is this easier to hear if I can turn off the game music when I get there, or is there somewhere with what he says compiled?

HI I don't know of any existing resource for that (@ other SoP fans, if I'm missing one lmk), but I can say that it is much easier to hear if you have the music AND THE EFFECT NOISES (!!!) turned off! Your party members will still be yelling but there's much less Noise.

As for making this information generally available to the people: I am Actively working on compiling a little footage of the TIAMAT fight for this exact reason (the Fiends say some interesting stuff, if you can actually hear em while you're fighting them), but I'll record the Astos fight too & can ping you later if you're interested! I'll probably, like. cut together examples of all the lines I can get him to say & transcribe them or something. That sounds right.

I gotta. Unlock the standalone (~kinda) version of his boss fight. Real quick. The side mission it's gated behind is like tailor-made to make ME SPECIFICALLY mad so I hadn't yet but literally I'm gonna go do that right now. sdfjhksdf

[tobiasdrake]

I think you're right in the Sonic movies not trusting the game characters to hold the weight of their own story; I think that's why the villain emotional core shifted from Shadow to the Eggmen.

I liked the movie! I think they did a good job with the story they were trying to tell!

But I would have liked more of that story to have focused on Shadow than Eggman. (Although finishing an Eggman arc to send him off I completely understand, too.)

*nodnod*

I have a lot of criticisms for the Sonic movies, but I also enjoy them a lot. There's a lot of creative choices that I don't like that they made, that I wish had been made differently. But the choices they do make are executed on very well.

Generally speaking, for me, watching the Sonic movies is like reading an amazingly well-crafted, easily digestible, and emotionally captivating fanfic... for a ship you don't like. I don't like how they characterized that guy. I don't agree with how they're presenting the cast. Their OCs are hit and miss. And I am 100% invested, when next chapter.

Many notes. So many notes. But I am having a good time nonetheless. I don't like what they did but I love the way they did it.

Getting into spoiler territory to talk about Eggman.

With Eggman, it was kind of a miracle that they even got him for this movie. Carrey announced his retirement in 2022 alongside the release of Sonic 2, so there was a long stretch of time when nobody even knew if he would be in Sonic 3.

There is a parallel universe where Carrey stuck to his guns, and Eggman's Maybe-Maybe-Not finale in Sonic 2 was the end of him. In that universe, I think we probably would have gotten a much deeper dive into Shadow, who would have to carry the weight of the film on his own shoulders. Possibly with Gerald, played by a new actor.

For the film we got, in a way, Sonic 3 feels like it was tailored to be the final word, not just on Eggman's character but also on the decades-long career of goofy antics and physical comedy that Carrey became famous for.

I think that's part of what makes Eggman's silly yet moving final sacrifice feel as powerful as it does. This isn't just Eggman taking the ARK for his last ride. It feels like Carrey saying farewell to the career and fandom he's built up, and that context makes it all the more emotionally gripping.

It's a strong sendoff.

And it also comes at the expense of a deeper focus on Shadow, whose climax ends up feeling rushed. Basically looking Sonic in the eyes and going, "You were mad like I was mad but you didn't take revenge. I see now that revenge is wrong. Let's go save the world from my revenge."

Two things can be true.

It's interesting to note that the film uses Gerald as, essentially, Shadow the Eggman. An embittered shadow archetype of Eggman turned to vengeance by grief over Maria's loss, who serves as the ultimate foe that Eggman must overcome.

This is most obvious with the parallel fights Sonic and Eggman have with Shadow and Gerald at the end. But I also don't think the film interrogates that idea very thoroughly, and I'm kind of okay that it doesn't? It's too busy having fun to be that serious.

Like. In place of that deeper analysis into Shadow, this movie is unapologetically meta. It's so meta, Eggman and Gerald literally look into the camera and point out that the same actor is playing them both at one point.

Which is sort of the point? There's kind of a purposeful tonal clash in this movie between Team Sonic, Eggman, and Stone versus Shadow and Gerald. Shadow and Gerald are grim and serious characters, except when Gerald is playing off of Eggman. Eggman brings out the goofiness of Gerald, while Shadow has the inverse effect on Sonic. Shadow makes Sonic darker, edgier, and less fun.

I described it before as "like making fart noises in a mortuary" and I stand by that. The film very intentionally feels like it's having an identity crisis over whether it wants to be a serious story of revenge, love, grief, and redemption or the kind of movie where a grown man in spandex has an elaborate performative dance number with his stunt double down a hall of death lasers. That is the tug-of-war that Sonic and Eggman are having with Shadow and Gerald.

It's that scene at the Chao Garden. Where the lights suddenly go out and it's like, oh shit, we're under attack. But then they come back up and it's just a funny stage show starting up. But also we are under attack, completely unrelated to the lights going out just now.

There are two conflicting payoffs to the suspense of that moment, playing out simultaneous to one another. It's like Sonic and Gerald had different ideas for how this scene should end.

Which is... really interesting to think about.

IDK

Coming out of the movie, my initial impression was that it was good, but not as good as Sonic 2. And, as a Sonic adaptation, I stand by that. Sonic 2 did the better job of adapting the Sonic material to film.

But as a creative exercise, as a piece of art, this movie's growing on me more. I think Sonic 3 is a fascinating performance piece.

[unlovedanchor]

I AM ALL THE THINGS THEY MIGHT HAVE SAID TO YOU.

a prompt based off of the crane wives 2015 album, " coyote stories, " dark themes present. adjust if needed!

KEEP YOU SAFE.

" when i was a child, my nerves went wild. "

" i watched my friends climb to the tops of the trees. "

" i never climbed at all. "

" i told myself, 'i'm not ready.' "

" my daddy always said nothing worth doing comes easy. "

" nothing worth doing comes easy. "

" time is not your friend, time is not your remedy. "

" time is not your friend. "

" no amount of waiting will make you brave. "

" no amount of waiting will keep you safe. "

" the more fears i collect, i gather them from all the people i meet. "

" their stories reveal regrets their smiles can't conceal. "

" i carry them with me. "

" what if the steps i take turn out to be mistakes ? "

" how can somebody like me learn to stay ? "

THE MOON WILL SING.

" tell me once again. "

" tell me once again i could have been anyone. "

" i could have been anyone, anyone else. "

" i could have been anyone before you made the choice for me. "

" my feet knew the path. "

" we walked in the dark, i never gave a single thought to where it might lead. "

" i never gave a single thought to where it might lead. "

" all those empty rooms, we could have been anywhere else. "

" instead, i made a bed with apathy. "

" my heart knew the weight. "

" my heart knew the weight of ten years worth of dust and neglect. "

" ten years of worth of dust and neglect. "

" we made our peace with weariness and let it be. "

" the moon will sing a song for me, i loved you like the sun. "

" the moon will sing a song for me. "

" i loved you like the sun. "

" bore the shadows that you made with no light of my own. "

" i shine only with the light you gave me. "

" we could have had anything else. "

" instead, you hoarded all that's left of me. "

" i want to feel the fire that you kept from me . "

" i could have been anyone. "

ALLIES OR ENEMIES.

" the words i speak are wildfires and weeds. "

" they spread like some awful damn disease. "

" i swear, i didn't mean what i said. "

" i swear, i didn't mean it. "

" you owe me ears for dripping eaves. "

" forget it all, you caught me in a moment weak. "

" forget it all. "

" you caught me in a moment weak. "

" sometimes i just can't help myself. "

" i can't help myself at all. "

" are we allies or enemies ? "

" this will be the death of me . "

" remember when i could tell you not to smile ? "

" remember when i could tell you not to smile when you were mad ? "

" you would always crack, and we'd both be laughing in the end. "

" we'd both be laughing in the end. "

" now you're not so quick to forget. "

" all is fair in love and war, but i can't fight with you anymore. "

" what happens now ? "

" do we have another go ? "

" do we bow out and take our separate roads ? "

" i'll admit i've had my doubts. "

" i want to be let in, not out. "

UNRAVELING.

" i once loved a tailor who took eager care of me. "

" sewed together my loose ends with stitches. "

" stitches neat and clean. "

" but now my love is gone. "

" and i am left unraveling. "

" i once loved a gardener with his dirt-smudged face and hands. "

" trimmed my weeds and gave me room to grow. "

" i am left here withering. "

" i once loved a carpenter who carved a smile for me. "

" sanded my rough edges, crafted new and lovely things. "

" i can't help fracturing. "

" i never knew that i needed you. "

" i once loved a man who kissed me once before he left. "

" tied me up in knots and said he'd soon return again. "

HARD SELL.

" i'm trying to make something of myself. "

" my better days, i go buy the hard sell. "

" but i feel like i'm working with barbed wire. "

" i really can't get a hold of many things. "

" i'm one deep breath away from a breakdown. "

" my nerves are wrecked and coming unwound. "

" the world is hostile. "

" i'm fragile and i need someone to kiss the cuts. "

" tell me to keep trying. "

" is it me ? is it really just me ? "

" does everybody have it together or are we all pretending ? "

" holding it together with one loose string. "

" i can't stop pulling. "

"i rip myself apart at the seams. "

" i find one weak spot and start unraveling. "

" hoping i can find a better me. "

" a fresh new start. "

" can we stop pretending now ? "

ROCKSLIDE.

" i can hear the rumblin', honey. "

" it's why the weather's got the mountain shakin' weak. "

" i know you want to plant your feet. "

" we best get a move on. "

" or the devil we will meet. "

" i feel the quakin' honey, i feel it deep."

" oh, i pray today my soul to keep. "

" drop dead sprint, my darling. "

" don't look back now. "

" honey, just try to breath. "

" that monster's coming. "

" that monster's coming and it don't care for you or me. "

" it don't care for you or me. "

" the angels we may someday see. "

METAPHOR.

" i've gotten good at leaning on metaphors."

" i've gotten good at living on someone else's page. "

" i cut my teeth on secondhand sentiments. "

" you can't trust a single thing i say. "

" i keep my closet free of skeletons. "

" i'm much better at digging graves. "

" i always dig up bones in your sympathy. "

" i can't trust a single thing you say. "

" don't look too hard, you won't like the scars he left. "

" i've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape. "

" all these words are sweet and meaningless. "

THE HAND THAT FEEDS.

" i've seen good men spoiled. "

" chained to their jobs like hounds. "

" they work and sleep and work again. "

" in the darkest nights they howl. "

" their cries are a warning to everyone following. "

" no man should stand to work all of his days. "

" and have nothing at the end of them. "

" i got no money but the change that jingles in my pockets. "

" reminding me of how little i have. "

" as for time, i am powerless to stop it. "

" it keeps rambling on like a mad, wandering man. "

" my papa was a howlin' man. "

" my dear papa gave me lessons and regrets. "

" all that he'd gone would be for nothing if [i] followed in his steps. "

" my papa taught me how to howl. "

" how to bear my teeth and growl. "

" he taught me that the hand that feeds, deserves to be bitten when it beats. "

" he taught he how to break my chains. "

" money ain't worth a thing. "

" no man should get more of my time than me. "

" i may never be a rich man. "

" i may never be a rich man but i can make sure that i am free. "

" i can make sure that i am free. "

" as for time, it's mine. "

LITTLE SOLDIERS.

" on the broken backs of all the words we spared. "

" like little soldiers in the trenches. "

" it was a march we made towards ruin and despair. "

" but we held hands all the while. "

" i swear that i loved you. "

" i dragged you through every room inside our home. "

" but you still held me at night. "

"i swear that you loved me. "

" we didn't give up. "

" we didn't dare surrender. "

" it was an honest loss. "

" now the aftermath will ring with songs you've sung. "

" all of our words sent home in boxes. "

" i fought with tooth and nail. "

" i fought with tooth and nail before the flag had flown. "

" but you were already gone. "

" i'll swear that i loved you. "

SLEEPING GIANTS.

" i feel the mountains shifting under me. "

" sleeping giants are finally waking. "

" my pulse is clear, rushing in my ears. "

" i hear something calling me. "

" the moon is humming lovely melodies. "

" the forest echoes, the trees are crowing. "

OF EVERLONG.

" out of the ocean, over the harbor. "

" lay no sons and lay no daughters. "

" among the mountains of everlong, 'twas there i wrote me a sad song. "

" 'twas there i wrote me a sad song. "

" and if my lover will not heed it ? "

" take my voice and take my spirit. "

" leave me weakened and dig my hole. "

" only my lover, not i, can keep my soul. "

NEVER LONG AN ANCHOR.

" on some level i think i always understood. "

" these hands of mine were clumsy, not clever. "

" i tried to do the best that i could. "

" but try as i might, i couldn't bring myself to hold you. "

" it's a secret i keep tucked inside my chest. "

" with this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful."

" there is love that doesn't have a place to rest. "

" it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulders. "

" a ship could never really love an anchor. "

" so i did the only thing that i could. "

" i severe the rope and set you sailing from my harbor. "

" there are times i still wonder about you. "

" you are someone i have loved. "

" but never known. "

" you are someone i have loved but never known. "

" you'll never see the reasons i had for keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you. "

" they were close enough to hurt you. "

" i am selfish, i am broken, i am cruel. "

" i am all the things that they might have said to you. "

" do you ever think of me ? "

" do you ever think fo me and my two hands ?"

" and wonder they never soothed your fevers? "

" and wonder why they never held you gently? "

" and wonder why they never had the chance to lose you ? "

NEW DISCOVERY.

" i want to stand on the edge of the water. "

" see horizons stretch on forever. "

" i want to know that there are lands not yet touched by human hands."

" not yet touched by human hands. "

" i want to be the one to find them. "

" sometimes i feel like i'm lost in a desert. "

" every dune is the same as the other. "

" i see my footprints in the sand. "

" i know where i've been and these steps i take won't go to waste. "

" i'm moving towards something. "

" i want to believe there's something left for me. "

" a new discovery waiting for me. "

" i want to kindle a love that doesn't age. "

" even when all the years carve lines into your face. "

" tell me will i be surprised? "

" tell me will i be surprised when i think i've memorized every touch and every thought ? "

" i want you to prove me wrong. "

[dinthoqaf]

For someone who is new to your blog and character, what do you feel is important to know about them? What are some pivotal plot points you would like to share? Preferred RP hooks?

{ Oh, I love this question cause I always feel like w/ Din's comprehensive (and incredibly long) RP History, folks are always left in the dark on some of these things. So, please indulge me in a bit of long-windedness. :D -- For someone who is new to your blog and character, what do you feel is important to know about them?

First and foremost, Dinthoqaf is insane. Not the sort of Insane where you find him giggling and chattering away in the corner, or trying to shank people in the street to call it 'playing' or anything like that. No, Dinthoqaf is insane in the fact that he believes he's on the path to Godhood and that to become one, the world (Azeroth since he's a WoW-based OC) should be remade. The factions of the Horde and Alliance should be effectively destroyed down to their foundations. He views those establishments as complicit in the strife currently going on.

To be fair though, Dinthoqaf's upbringing was one specifically tailored by a (just as insane) Father who purposely treated him terribly, created an atmosphere where Din felt hated and reviled by everyone who was supposed to care for him, and ultimately cursed him via corruption (Specifically Old God) him at birth. Din is sadly, very much a product of his upbringing and instead of healing from it, is leaning into it fully while becoming the 'Father' figure he so desperately needed by leading his Sanctum of the Forbidden (Our Guild) to destroy everything and start it all over again.

-- What are some pivotal plot points you would like to share? Preferred RP hooks?

Oh jeez, these two are a bit tougher cause Din's story has been going on for -12- years. Wish I was exaggerating but I'm not. (I got a 13 yr old kid IRL and that's how I keep track. lol) His story is an amazing one full of twists, turns, bumps, high-rise fires, and slow burns. That being said, I think some of the pivotal plot points might be best done as just a little list but keep in mind, not all of this is IC public info due to the cultish/apocalyptic nature that Din is aiming to bring about. - Childhood/adolescence as a whole was just a bag of shit. Those involved in Elven Nobility may have known his father, Krownos Bloodcrest as an eccentric man who 'died' to the Scourge. - Ended up being found by an Old God Worshipping Troll who only hastened Dinthoqaf's decent into madness and lit a fire of Leadership in him that eventually resulted in the creation of his Sanctum. - Dinthoqaf's Brother, Ammaelin, is now Patriarch of House Bloodcrest (who has officially disowned Dinthoqaf for various reasons), and they are now at War with one another. - Dinthoqaf is married to an equally crazy lady who supports him emphatically ( @zalilirah ). - He was once fighting a 2 front war against his brother and a goblin group (which was ran by another of my OC's, @frostahesmegabite ) which is now laid to rest and that aspect of the story is essentially done with.). - He's been killed before! Usually in very gruesome fashions but the Sanctum or his wife and troll friend find ways to bring him back after extended periods (only aiding in the delusion that he'll become a god). - He's led an attack on Orgrimmar back during the Seige to rescue his wife who'd been captured by Kor'kron when it was discovered she was a Cultist. RP Hooks?! A much shorter list, probably thankfully if you've made it this far. - Wanting to learn dark magics? Din's your guy! - Playing an awful character that's down and out? Din's your guy. - Need a totally fucked up/screwed up Mentor/Father Figure? Din's your guy. (But don't make it weird.) - Character wounded and usual medical/healing spells won't work due to the nature of your character? Ooh, Din has some nice blood healing for you! - Corruption, Decent-like Stories? Hooked! - Din's also the sort to enjoy academics and simple polite conversation while drinking tea. (He won't drink anything anyone else offers though, only what he brings/conjures. He doesn't trust others to not taint or poison it.) What won't hook? - No Romance, No ERP, and I'm not looking for former lovers, family members, Servants, or Slaves. Not interested in any of those aspects. That's cool for other folks, but that's not Din's jam or my own depending on the topic. If it wasn't for Zalilirah, Din wouldn't even have a romantic relationship either. THANK YOU FOR ASKING THESE REALLY GOOD QUESTIONS AND I'M SO SORRY THIS WAS SO LONG-WINDED! D: )