#THIS IS MOSTLY SILLY BUT I PROMISE I DID HAVE ACTUAL LOGIC (and the logic is Gross Physics)

[ebbpettier]

i've been waiting for this day. my final battle with the logistics. gentlemen, it's been an honor. thank you for asking this, i was waiting for someone to ask.

THE SHORT, EASY ANSWER: magic

THE LONG, UNNECESSARY ANSWER:

i briefly considered giving penny goggles instead of glasses, but there were a few problems with that.

the shape was awkward. it didn't really read easily in the same way that glasses do. since they're tight against the head, the cat-eye shape doesn't have nearly as clear of a silhouette, and i scrapped it pretty quickly

i wasn't sure where penny would have acquired them. i didn't really go into it on tumblr, but one of the things i wanted to do in order to separate simon from the other mermaids was by giving him human junk, and by giving the others a lot of natural materials for clothes and jewelry. (in theory penny could have picked up a pair of human swimming-goggles for herself, but i wanted to draw a parallel between her disdain for american mages mixing too much with normals, and mermaids mixing with humans.) they could have been mermaid-constructed, but that raised some more issues. glasses can be made with ... well. glass. glass and metal wire, both of which could hypothetically be smelted in a volcanic vent. mermaid-goggles could have had a leather or woven strap, but in order to be real goggles they would need some kind of rubber-y seal around the edges, or they wouldn't be watertight. (i couldn't figure out where a mermaid would get/make rubber. also: see #1.)

the goggles would have had to break physics a little to be viable. hear me out. (i am going into this assuming that humans and mermaids have similar eye-anatomy, in terms of socket/lid/stalk placement. ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A PHYSICIST, I JUST SWIM A LOT. OCEAN GO BRRRR.) when you dive underwater with any small pocket of air, there is ALWAYS a certain depth at which that pocket of air will implode. full stop. water is something like 800 times denser than air, which means it's also heavier. the deeper you go, the more that external pressure increases. when the external pressure increases, the internal pressure also increases to try to create an equilibrium. since the air inside of the container is less dense (less matter, fewer molecules to distribute) they wig the hell out, and the material will usually deform in order to try to fill the excess empty space. if you've ever watched a video of someone putting marshmallows in a chamber and then removing all the air or used one of those as-seen-on-tv vacuum-sealed bags, it's the same principle. you can also probably guess where this is going. if you don't want it spelled out, skip past the red.

!GROSS PART INCOMING!

when you're diving with goggles on, there is no way to vent pressure in or out without filling them with water. with a diving-mask, there are ways to pressurize them down to a certain depth, but you can't do this with goggles. you dive deeper; the pressure increases; the material of the container begins to deform in order to fill that empty space.

unfortunately, in this instance, the container is goggles and the contents are your face and eyes. diving too deep with goggles on--which isn't that deep to begin with--can actually pull your eyes right out of the socket. even if it doesn't damage your eyes, it can still cause bruising and sometimes permanent scarring around the places where the cup was suctioned to your skin.

!GROSS PART OVER!

they are a tool specialized for surface-swimming, and surface-swimming ONLY. when used properly, they're pretty safe as far as underwater eye-protection goes! there's just no way for mermaids to use them safely. (and before you ask 'why not fill them with water', i did consider that too. unfortunately i think the same applies to water-pressure, and the goggles would have to be completely open with no water-tight seal which is just a pair of glasses with extra steps) "SO," I BRAZENLY ASSUME YOU ASK, "WHY IS PENNY STILL WEARING GLASSES IF THEY DON'T WORK UNDERWATER?" i have prepared three answers for you, and i bid you choose the one that you like best:

they're enchanted. they just work. don't think about it too hard. it's a little like spongebob lighting a campfire underwater. she has a pair of magic glasses that work underwater, this is commonplace and not at all a weird thing for a mermaid to have.

they don't work at all, and penny is just wearing them because she likes them. they do nothing for her. she can't see a damn thing. she might have even poked the lenses out of them, how would she know? she's wearing earrings too, it's not like they serve some greater purpose.

they're for when she isn't in the water. penny might think that mouth-breathers (humans) are easy to write off due to their lack of magic*, but that's NOT going to stop her from reading land-books. if you tell her she's not allowed to read the land-books, that'll just make her want to read them harder. *and gills, and beaks, and flukes. honestly, they're lacking all manner of necessary body parts. four is SUCH an arbitrary number of chambers for a heart to have! penny has three, which is a much more reasonable number.

TL;DR: penny doesn't have goggles because i think the glasses look better. and also because realistically, the goggles would have injured her in a way i found upsetting.

mermaid hair don't care ✨

[traewilson]

Currently thinking about Disney's Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs. Watching modern Disney films always makes me think about it; about the things we've lost in the pursuit of one arbitrary definition of "progress". We are, today, all of us, be we audience or executive, slave to the here and now. The trends, the hot new things. It's a major problem in the culture, with how we view art as "dated" or "old-fashioned" as being objectively ontologically inferior, lesser than, destined to be consigned to the dustbin of history.

But it's all arbitrary. Why don't we do traditional animation in America anymore? Because it isn't financially viable? How do you know when you haven't done it for serious in almost thirty years? How do you know when the last time you DID try, you intentionally then refused to market the films properly and released them in competition with surefire smash hits?

The heads at Disney and many other executive types at other film companies (obligatory David Zaslav reference, there you go, there's your obligatory boogeyman reference) aren't film fans. The days of people like Dino De Laurentiis who loved cinema being in charge are over. These people are venture capital vultures; they're Silicon Valley types obsessed with Now, Now, Now. Legacy and tradition, to these men, is just another thing to market and sell to folks. It means nothing to them except as another commodity (hence the live action remakes, but I don't want to get caught up in them every time I try to write something about the art form I love.)

Modern critiques of the film miss the forest for - not even the trees - the leaves and the branches. It's light on story. Okay? Lots of movies are, because cinema is a medium where narrative can often not be as important as what's literally happening on-screen, and what's happening beneath the surface, the subtext of the story. Most importantly, some critics engage with this film on a purely logical level, and refuse to engage with the emotional level. For many films, you can do this; many films work on both levels, though less than you'd think, especially as time marches on and cinema is overtaken by

T H E F I L M I N D U S T R Y [Bach's Toccata and Fugue's opening notes blare out]

But many films, especially in animation, work almost exclusively on the emotional dream logic, and no film more depends on this kind of lens and has such mastery within that framework than Snow White, to this day. The entire point of the film, the modus operandi, was to make clear to moviegoing audiences that a cartoon was capable of the same high drama as live-action. Nobody bought it, and were blown away when it changed the world. I would argue, to this day, however, the audience didn't actually get the point. Animation is treated as kids stuff, and it wasn't for lack of trying by Walt to change that. That was part of the point of Snow White - it's why the film is not just intensely happy but intensely scary, heavy, sad. It had to encompass the full spectrum of emotion, and that seems silly now, mostly because cinema has been so thoroughly influenced by Snow White, its influence is growing harder and harder to truly appreciate with each passing generation.

I would argue that, in many ways, animation failed to meet the promise of Snow White. In glimmers and bursts, films by Disney would match the emotional power of Snow White. Pinocchio was mostly up to the challenge - though the animation, even then, was noticeably worse. Fantasia is, I think, the only film that truly rose up to and beyond Snow White. The sheer emotional powerhouse of A Night on Bald Mountain and Ave Maria is one of the greatest sequences in, bluntly, cinema. And it flopped. Audiences didn't gel with it, and the film's timing in release couldn't have been worse, with certain events in world history resulting in parts of Europe that would've adored the film unable to see it. Because of the Nazis. (We'll get to the Nazi thing with Snow White, be patient.) Fantasia's failure rocked Walt and the onset of WWII forced him to shift into doing wartime propaganda in order to keep the lights on. He wanted Fantasia to be an active ongoing cultural project, where every year, it'd be re-released with new material. It still could've been, perhaps, after the war. But the free market spoke, so Walt just gave up on that dream, as he did many other dreams.

From there, it's no use comparing many of his later films to Snow White. They never did, and Walt knew it, and he hated it, and it killed his artistic spirit. Even when he tried, with his last true passion project, Sleeping Beauty, it flopped. Critics were lukewarm on it. Audiences didn't go see it. Now we see it as its own kind of animated triumph. It gave us Maleficent, one of the best characters ever made in animation. But that's now. At the time, the consensus was a bemused shrug. It was good - but it's not Snow White.

That refrain - it was good, but it's no Snow White - haunted Walt Disney across his career; no other film was ever quite good enough for the audience in comparison, and it drove him nuts. He saw people demanded Snow White, but whenever he made a film of a similar spirit, it wasn't ever good enough. Meanwhile, the films they made to keep the lights on while working on Sleeping Beauty were doing solid business and not getting needlessly nitpicked by bad faith criticism.

You can see his surrender reflected in the films post-Sleeping Beauty. He wasn't even really involved in the films anymore beyond a certain point. He got obsessed with the billionaire pipe dream of the Experimental Prototype City of Tomorrow, EPCOT, and it consumed him up until the lung cancer ended him. The narratives stopped demanding anything from the audience. They got all the dumb kiddy jokes they wanted, with none of the pathos and point. The darkness found in Snow White had become mere shadows by the time of Jungle Book.

(Revisiting this a day later)

You know, I talk like this? Less coherently and with more cussing, but these kind of tangents. You know? Not a good essayist; nor would I call myself one. I'm a rambler, and I rambled so hard just now I completely lost track of the point I was trying to make. I was going to gush about the film's deft mastery of tone. I mentioned it, but I didn't really get into it. How filmmakers that tried to make a film like Snow White focused so much on the darkness - a vital part of the experience, granted - that they forgot the joy and levity necessary to balance things. Or even the reverse; a preoccupation with joy and levity without the necessary darkness.

Don Bluth made a couple films which mastered this balance of tone, especially in his brief but potent collaboration with Steven Spielberg. The Secret of NIMH's levity is less saccharine than Snow White's, but he and his team displayed true mastery over the emotional pallet they chose to work within. It only gets really cheerful at the end, as Don so loved to do, in his belief that children can handle any kind of story as long as all ends happily. This mastery, thanks in large part (but not exclusively I must stress) to powers outside his control, was all but gone by the time of A Troll in Central Park. This is a film with all the saccharine tooth-rotting sweetness of Snow White with nary a dark tone in sight. And it tanks the narrative. Perfect for single-digit aged children, and nothing more than a strange curio, a case study to examine for adults. You can't have such an extreme sweet tone without its counterpart extremity.

A little phrase I'm coining, inspired by a line from Kingdom Hearts: the brighter the light in the narrative shines, the deeper and more profound the shadows must be, in reaction.

You can't have the Seven Dwarfs without the Queen, nor the Queen without the Seven Dwarfs.

Compare Troll in Central Park to a film that has the opposite problem - an intensity of darkness that doesn't allow light to gleam appropriately, especially in light of its surprisingly intense subject matter. A film explicitly stated to be following in the lineage of Grimm fairy tales and Walt Disney's early filmography, but perhaps learned the wrong lessons from. I actually still like this film quite a lot for what it tried to do, and maybe another time I'll write something more balanced about it. But this is a rant about tone, so, no punches pulled here:

Andrei Konchalovsky's Nutcracker in 3D is a film seemingly universally despised by what few people actually bothered to go see the damn thing. It's gained a notoriety almost entirely built off its concept - it's that Nutcracker film with the Nazi rats and a VERY unsubtle Holocaust allegory. Having actually seen the film, my views on it are more nuanced, but that's a rant for another time. I do not dislike the film's intended message, and the dark places the story goes are directions that, bluntly, family films haven't felt comfortable exploring in decades. Konchalovsky's mastery over the darkness his narrative calls for is exceptional. The Nazi rats are portrayed as bumbling, neurotic, but heartless. And New Yorkers for some reason. But the narrative does a poor job communicating the joy, the hope, the love, that enabled people to oppose the darkness of fascism, and keep hope in the face of evil. There is a single beautiful sequence where the main character Mary dances with snowflake spirits. It serves no plot purpose; it's just there to be beautiful (and to lay some lip service to the Tchaikovsky ballet). I say that affectionately, not as criticism. The film needed more scenes like this where the characters are reminded of the beauty of the world, of the magic in living that fascists would extinguish. There's a lovely melancholy little scene where Mary's Uncle Albert (played by Nathan Lane basically as a cartoon Albert Einstein) is confronted by her parents (played by Richard E. Grant and Andrei Konchalovsky's opera singer wife) who want him to stop filling Mary's mind with fantasy stories and to stop visiting her, so she can be prepared for "the real world". The song he sings here (another thing this film is notorious for, for some reason, the musical numbers) is Albert reminding Mary's father that he used to be a child too, that he had his own childlike wonder that he embodied in a pebble he kept on his person that was the most valuable thing to him in the world - until he lost it, and gradually, slowly but surely, he grew up, and the pebble was abandoned. Mary's father is in tears by the end, and it moves me too. Albert found his pebble, it turns out, and returns it to him. It's a lovely little scene - melancholy, but ultimately hopeful. The movie needed more scenes like this. But there are very few.

I neglected to mention up 'till now the pacing required for emotional stories like this. Emotional pacing. Snow White does this masterfully, and yet simply: for every dark scene with the Queen, there is a noticeably happy little scene immediately following it. At the end of the film, the tone hits its darkest depths. The Queen triumphs even in death; Snow White is seemingly dead. The Dwarfs mourn, even Grumpy who once loathed her (the real gut punch of the mourning sequence). And yet, in the end, her Prince has come, and a kiss that was likely intended as a parting kiss of affection miraculously saves her life. The Queen never considered that anyone could love Snow White, and indeed, love seemed to be the furthest thing from her mind at all times. Everyone cheers, everyone delights, the music is pure euphoria and relief. Snow White bids farewell to her dear friends, and rides off into the sunset with her Prince, away to his castle, seemingly nestled into the very clouds and lit in heavenly light. Her proverbial salvation heightened into the literal.

The darkness and the light in the narrative should respond in kind to each other. The more the heroes love and make merry, the more intimidating the darkness seems when it returns. And yet, the shadows inevitably give way to the light, even if just for a time, and when the light comes back, it shines even brighter than before. By the end, the terror and evil merely implied by the darkness has manifested itself and become all too real. Snow White is dead. And yet, even in her death, there is light yet to be found. The Christian allegory in Snow White seems obvious. She is resurrected by the Prince's love and taken to his heavenly palace nestled in the clouds. It's not very subtle once you notice it. But subtlety has no place in an emotional narrative. To hit the emotions, you gotta go big, grand, operatic even.

All that to say: The Nutcracker in 3D fails at properly balancing the emotional pallet, at the emotional pacing. The tone is reserved for the first half-hour, occasionally cheerful, but restrained by the reality of 1930s Vienna. Once the Rats enter the picture, the mood is overwhelmed by darkness - as it should be, when Nazis are involved. But the light of the narrative doesn't shine bright enough in response. There's some dumb comedy to lighten the mood, but it doesn't land. It only succeeds at pulling off a triumphant tone when the Rats are finally chased away. The celebratory sing there is quite good. Sir Tim Rice isn't a slouch. But there's too few scenes in-between the Rats' entrance into the picture and their exit where hope and light are allowed to show themselves. Konchalovsky was so caught up in accurately conveying the pervasive fear and terror of living under a totalitarian regime, he forgot to give proper time to the persistence of joy and hope that leads to said regime's downfall. He was so caught up in communicating the horror of the Holocaust in a way children could grasp, he neglected to show the hope and persistence in the belief in justice that allowed people to live through such awful times.

I of course must bring up, however, that Snow White was, ironically enough, adored by the Nazis, especially Hitler who considered it one of his favorite films, at least publicly. We'll never know if he actually loved the film or if he recognized the Germanic romanticization of the film itself lent itself unfortunately well to their ambitions of Germanic Aryan supremacy. I wonder if Walt knew his masterpiece was beloved by a monster such as Hitler. I am suddenly struck by the realization that emotional storytelling can be used BY evil, just as much as it can be used in opposition to it.

But that's a matter for me to privately contemplate on. I can plainly see I'm not able to tackle that subject yet. Truth be told, I feel like I barely managed the topic here and now.

My point being: Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs is a masterpiece for a reason. It may be hard for younger generations to grasp that, but I'm part of them too, and I got it. The old ways of storytelling aren't inherently worse or lesser than. They have their value even now; these stories just aren't allowed to be told and to succeed. They're consigned to a damned niche market, an inherently lesser than affair. I dunno, I think that stinks. Storytelling today is afraid to be emotionally open, largely in response to a traumatized miserable populace who has grown comfortably numb, and reject things that make them feel, even if it makes you unambiguously happy, because once you feel one thing, you tend to feel lots of other emotions too - darker emotions. I should know, I've been there many times. What a tragic state of affairs we're in today. We should build a society where emotions are as open in our art as they are in the audience. We shouldn't be numb. Numbness is next to death.

[violyane]

Hey! I hope this blog didn't die but are you still gonna update Master Plan? It's only one chapter but it got me really fixiated about the story

Hello anon I'm still here! I'm currently enjoying my holiday break while doing absolutely nothing.

As for Master Plan, I really want to write and continue this story. Really. Like I've been thinking about the story and plot for about six???? years now I believe (damn I've been in this fandom for quite a while), but honestly, I think a few factors overwhelm me in writing it.

I started writing it way too early. Which is funny considering I have had it in my mind since 2016. But tbh I only planned the major events of the story. And they include such different aspects of the characters' personalities and development that they look flat without some in-between events. Even looking at the first chapter makes me realize how flat Kaga and Megami are. They are behaving more like their future selves than who they should be now. This is not the first impression of them I wanted to leave at all. I think I really should just open my fanfic planner, take a deep breath and write the whole story, with all the events that I wanna include, before actually writing the thing.

The place of events and timeline confuses me. Since Akademi was changed from a high school to an academy I really have no idea how the organization of the institution even works. Do all students attend for one year, or do they have to be there longer? Are they finishing with a certificate? Do students just choose what class they want to be in or does the school management test them? What does recruitment look like? And more similar questions like that. As for the timeline, some things just don't make sense. For example, when does the student council election take place? If Megami and the student council girls took the position on the first day of school, was the election taking place while Megami was still in class 1? If yes, then how did Shiromi become part of it, considering she just started attending school in April? (That's actually why I put her in Aoi's class since the fanfic takes place before the canon events and she has to somehow be here).

I need to research more into the canon. I really don't want to make my fanfic a big AU with my own silly headcanons in it. But is it even possible to access all canon information? I was looking through YanDev's Reddit posts in the past, but unfortunately, it's not easy to see all of it. Dev also shares some information privately with friends and on Discord (where I don't really hang out much). Sure I can just use info from the game, but is there really that much of it to write a nice story? Especially since I'm writing about the last rival, the most mysterious one, while we only got the first one in-game. I can make it more into an AU, but will it still be Yandere Simulator? I mean, I could always rewrite it after we get the full game, but I don't know... what if half my story loses a logical narrative because of it...

I'm not confident with my writing. English is not my first language. When it comes to reading literature, I only base my knowledge on other fanworks I've read over the years. My writing is not the most ambitious, I know that. But the problem with writing a long-chapter fanfiction is that you have to interfere with your written work. When I write my one shots I mostly just write them, publish them, and never return to them again, so I don't overthink every word and sentence that I came up with. I'm actually scared to open the first chapter of Master Plan because I'm afraid that when I'll re-read it, I'll just start cringing at my writing and delete it altogether.

There are probably more concerns that I have, but these are the main ones that are stopping me from writing Master Plan. Sometimes I really just wish I could stop overthink it and just pour my heart into it.

But I'll say this. I promise to work it all out. Because I don't want to disappoint the teenage me, who spent numerous nights daydreaming about this story. I will do anything to write it.

[mclwcc]

i don't even mean this in a bad way, but i find it odd how many people think red bull brought daniel back to put him in their car again when they've basically said they have several other reserve/"third" drivers to do tests and sim work, and that daniel is there mostly for PR work and won't even be at half the races. there's people CERTAIN he's going to get a fp1 session and i'm like ... why would he? not trying to be rude at all, but they basically already have to give up two fp1 sessions for those young driver tests, and daniel wouldn't even qualify for that. especially if they happen to find themselves in a tight constructor's/driver's championship battle, they aren't going to give up valuable practice time just so fans can see their fav do a couple glory runs around a track.

also like. i'm just going to say it. i'm not a zak brown fan for a multitude of reasons, but staniels are WILD if they think christian horner and helmut marko would put up with 2 years of underperformance before getting rid of a driver. they have a history of getting rid of underperforming drivers mid-season, even. i know christian is suddenly the good guy and the hero because "he brought the prodigal son home" and such, but it's a business. they're fooling themselves if they think he could perform the way he did at mclaren at red bull and father christian horner would be like "oh, my poor child, the world is just against you, it isn't your fault, you take as long as you need to produce results baby, we can wait."

it may just be the mclaren not gelling with him, but it also seems like quite a few drivers have discussed having to work towards adapting their driving styles to these new regulations at the beginning of last year. they always talk about carlos (and the ones not delusional enough to believe the car is designed specifically for lando, lando as well) have mentioned how "weird" the mclaren is to drive, but weird doesn't equal undrivable. hell, if anything, daniel's performance got even worse versus lando with the new regulations. call me delusional, but i wouldn't be at all surprised to see oscar jump into the car and be immediately closer to lando than daniel was for much of last year, and that isn't going to reflect on his stock or demand as a driver any better than being consistently outperformed by a younger, less experienced teammate did. unless he humbles himself enough to accept a seat at a lower midfield or backmarker team, i think he's basically retiring without actually retiring. he WAS super good at one point, i'm not saying this to shit all over his career, but there are younger drivers (and even some of the more experienced drivers still on the grid) who have shown more potential lately in the midfield and backfield; there are promising young drivers who could end up impressing. why do people think he's any more deserving of a top team than those drivers are, especially since he had his chance already and basically voluntarily walked away? idk idk sorry for the 🤪 silly staniels 🤪 rants, i just really fail to understand the logic in. any of this. (and i even understand the whole like being upset or defensive about your fav drivers. like i get that. but some of the things these people actually believe and shout with their whole chests are illogical and likely just going to end in massive disappointment).

[get-notes-on-life]

Let’s face it…if you wanted to become what people often ridicule these days as a 'Holy Roller,' then it would look completely embarrassing and stupid to your friends, family and peers to worship a 'make believe friend' like god. So if for some weird reason you were to change your mind and actually become a Christian, you would not want to do that because you would be embarrassed and ashamed, YES?

OK! I get that and that makes perfect sense. Christians appear to be a bit wacky in that they believe weird stuff like Noah’s ark, stories about a talking donkey, and Jesus raising himself from the dead. It’s perfectly logical to not want to associate with any of that, and if you did, you’d be ashamed to be associated with Jesus…but what does the Bible say about people like that?

In today’s scripture quote, Jesus very clearly says that if you are ashamed of Him, He will be ashamed of you as He stands before the throne of God and the whole host of holy angels in heaven. So even if you maybe/kinda casually agree that this Jesus/God/Bible stuff is probably true or mostly so, but you don’t have the time to get into it — or even more important — would be embarrassed and ashamed to admit it to everyone that knows you, judging by this quote you might be in a position someday that you may not want to be in.

Again as today’s quote from the Gospel of Mark says, it is His WORD that people are ashamed of, and His Word says to turn to Him as the only way to save your soul out of this world and transport you into the next. Yes, this is a big step and from the standpoint of those around you will appear un-scientific, illogical and EMBARRASSING to associate yourself with what appears to many as a bunch of silly fables.

Friend, life is all about choices. Do you choose to follow Christ, regardless of the ridicule, or are you more comfortable going with the crowd? Either He IS who He says He is and promises what He says He promises or he isn’t. No one can make that decision for you. So the question is:

“Have you decided to follow Jesus, or follow the crowd?”

NotesOnLife.org

[goldenraeofsun]

4:01 PM

Dean sips his whiskey and glowers across the bar at his own reflection. His wrist is burning like a brand, but it’s probably all in his head. The stupid timers don’t cause physical pain when they reach T-minus zero, Houston we have a problem. The numbers freeze, and that’s that.

Dean’s had counted down to nothing at exactly 4:01 PM, fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of running into his soulmate, getting his number, continuing on his way to this bar, and telling the bartender to keep ‘em coming.

He refuses to look at the far corner of the room, the booth he had reserved like an idiot. Four PM, party of two, under the name Winchester.

On the bar by his glass, his phone is still lit up with Cas’s texts from the past hour.

Cas 3:11 I’m so sorry I have to move our appointment. My client just unexpectedly switched our time to 4pm.

Cas 3:21 I think I’ll be able to escape by 4:30. Can I meet you then?

Dean had responded with a thumbs-up emoji. He didn’t have it in him to say any more.

Cas 3:50 This city is impossible to navigate. How does anyone live here?

Cas 3:58 You were right, I should have rented a car.

Three minutes after Cas’s last text, Dean ran into his soulmate. Right on schedule.

As far as first meetings go, it hadn’t been as much of a shitshow as Dean had expected.

The dude was attractive, at least, and the first thing he did after bumping into Dean was apologize. But he was wearing a tailored suit and glued to his phone, so it definitely could have been better.

His soulmate would’ve run off none the wiser, except Dean had to blurt, “Wait!” because, despite his disappointment, Dean couldn’t let his soulmate disappear into the throngs of Michigan Avenue. Dean wasn't about to fall to one knee, but he also couldn't let his best shot just go.

The man stopped, irritated. His gaze refused to linger on Dean, instead fixating on a building at the end of the block.

Head swimming with too many thoughts to name, Dean couldn’t get the right words out. He gestured mutely to his wrist, pulling up the flannel to show him.

Eyes widening with understanding, his soulmate quickly tugged up the cuff of his sleeve, only sparing a second to verify his own timer stopped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.” he said, distracted. “My name is James. Here,” he fished out a pen and something to write on from various pockets of his trench coat, “my number. We… should talk. Later.” He scowled, raising his other wrist to check at his watch. “I need to go.”

“Sure, man,” Dean said, mostly grateful he didn’t have to stick around and have some heart-to-heart with a stranger that was apparently meant for him. Whatever the fuck that actually meant.

“Thank you,” James said swiftly. Without another word, he took off back down the street.

Dean didn’t bother to watch him go. He had a barstool waiting with his name on it.

Sam will laugh himself silly once Dean tells him his perfect match wound up being some corporate suit. Dean once told him he’d rather microwave his own head than set foot in an office cubicle.

Sammy was the big soulmate skeptic in the family. He found his non-timer approved other half while he was protesting an illegal dismissal of a disabled employee. Three years later, when Sam bumped into Gabriel Crawford in a strip club at midnight on Dean’s birthday, he discovered Gabe was perfectly happy to let Sam live his apple pie life while Gabe continued to party like it was 1999.

Gabe made Sam promise to look him up if Eileen was ever down for a threesome.

Turned out, Eileen was.

Sam most certainly was not.

He still sends Gabe a card for the holidays, and usually Gabe sends him back candy samples from wherever he’s vacationing for the winter.

But everyone else Dean knew bought into the soulmates game, hook, line, and sinker. His parents were soulmates. Benny and Garth both settled down with theirs. Charlie and Aaron were holding out for theirs. Hell, even Jo had her weird thing with Bela Talbot.

Dean would’ve counted himself among their number - until he met Cas.

Well, until Cas messaged him on Bobby’s new ask-a-mechanic feature on the garage’s website. Cas had inherited a banged up 1967 Mustang and had no idea where to start with restoration. Apparently Gabe of all people was staying with Cas at his place in southern California, and he recommended Dean.

Why Cas couldn’t just look up a local place still baffles Dean to this day, but he has never been more grateful for Cas’s weird-ass logic.

Their relationship had stayed strictly professional until Cas’s actual car broke down on some random highway in California. Dean had tried to talk Cas through the repair himself, but it was no use. Cas either didn’t have the equipment for the fix, or Dean didn’t diagnose the right problem. Dean was about to hang up, when Cas had asked, clearly embarrassed, “Would you please stay on the line? I have this irrational fear of being murdered in the middle of nowhere where nobody can find my body for proper rites.”

Dean, almost surprising himself, didn’t laugh. Instead, he said, “Sure thing. Wanna put me on hold while you get in touch with Triple A?”

He spent an hour and a half on the phone with Cas, telling him stupid stories about the worst things people have done with their cars.

In return, Cas told him all about the stars that were just coming out in the darkening desert sky.

The week after, Bobby’s garage received a gift certificate in the mail. It was for a weeklong stay at the Chicago location of the five-star hotel chain Cas works for, in Dean’s name.

Those little chocolates on the pillows ruined Dean for motels everywhere.

At the bar, Dean signals the bartender for a refill. He glares down at his phone. The little rectangle contains his entire history with Cas, call logs, text receipts, everything.

He can’t look at it any longer. He shoves it in his pocket, and the receipt with his soulmate’s phone number crinkles in protest. With a sigh, Dean takes out the flimsy piece of paper.

James’s handwriting is neat, so Dean doesn’t even have the excuse of not being able to read a digit or two.

Maybe Dean will give him a call after his drink with Cas. Hopefully, once James finds out that Dean’s just a mechanic, lives in a shoebox apartment in Bucktown, and has never been to Aspen or the Alps, he’ll tell Dean to take a hike.

Dean flips the receipt over, and his stomach gives a sickening lurch. In pretentious curlicue lettering, the first words Dean reads are, The Nine Spheres.

James is staying at Cas’s hotel.

Fucking great. Dean crumples the receipt and shoves it back in his pocket. With his luck, James will probably want to meet in the restaurant on the first floor, the fancy-ass place with the steakhouse burger and truffle fries Dean would actually sell his soul for.

Dean actually dreamed about that burger, a few months after his Cas-sponsored stay. When he told Cas about it, Cas let out a bark of laughter.

In the next breath, though, he told Dean he does the same when he’s scoping out a new location and can’t stay at a nearby Nine Spheres.

Dean tips back his glass of whiskey. It’s stopped burning on the way down his throat, a good sign.

He was so stupid, thinking he could fuck with destiny, fate, or whatever shitty power up there decides soulmates.

Once Cas told him about his business trip to his neck of the woods, Dean had taken one look at the numbers on his arm counting down and did the math. He would meet his soulmate smack dab in the middle of Cas’s window in Chicago.

He could make Cas be his soulmate. Cas never brought up his timer, if it was still ticking, if he’d already met his other half. And Dean, coward that he was, never asked. If he didn’t know for sure, then there was that slim, slim chance that theirs matched up after all.

But no, Cas had to go and switch up their meeting time at the last second, and Dean had run into James instead.

His pocket buzzes with a new text. Mood lower than Cas’s voice register, Dean slides his phone out.

Cas 4:38 My meeting is over. Should I still meet you at the same place?

Dean 4:39 Yeah Hope its okay I got started without you

Cas 4:40 More than okay, considering my scheduling difficulties.

Dean 4:40 See you soon

Dean sighs and drains his glass.

Foot jiggling on the barstool and eyes trained on his hands clasped in front of him, Dean deliberately does not look around as the door opens.

And opens again.

And again.

Confused and irritated, Dean takes another look around. Above the bar, a chalkboard clearly proclaims Happy Hour from 4:30-6:30 PM. Dean ducks his head, scowling into the remains of his drink. He probably overlooked the sign before because of his single-minded quest to get shitfaced like a freshly-dumped senior at prom stuck next to the spiked punch bowl.

His phone obnoxiously tells him it’s 4:43.

That’s just great. Dean hops off the stool, meaning to ask the hostess if anyone’s asked for Winchester, when James pushes open the door.

Dean stops dead in his tracks.

James freezes, his eyes going wide. His trench coat swishes ominously to a stop.

Should Dean turn around? Pretend he didn’t see? Cas is going to be here any second.

Before he can make up his mind, James is walking towards him. “Hello,” he says. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you here.”

Dean swallows. “Me neither,” he says honestly.

James scans the small crowd now gathered around the bar, brow furrowing in concentration. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”

Dean lets out a silent exhale of relief. He musters up a weak smile. “No problem, man. I’ll leave you to it.” As he turns back around, James steps up to the hostess stand.

James says, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the din, “I’m a bit late, but is there a reservation for Winchester? For 4:30?”

Dean could not possibly have heard what he thinks he did. But the timing is right - for once. He spins around, practically losing his balance thanks to the booze he already drank.

The hostess scans her sheet of names, shaking her head. “There was a reservation for Winchester at four PM, but that’s it.”

James’s face falls. Shoulders slumping, he pulls out his phone, squinting as the screen lights up. “He said he was here,” he mutters.

He can’t be Cas. That would be crazy - like, dingo ate my baby, crazy.

“Could be at the bar,” the hostess says flippantly, tilting her head to the crowded area. “Most of ‘em don’t check in.”

James’s lips press together. “Thank you,” he says to the hostess, his tone clipped. “I’ll wait there.”

Dean steps in front of him before James can get lost in the throng of people. “I heard you’re lookin’ for me,” he says with a confidence that’s only 99% bullshit.

James blinks. “You?”

“Dean Winchester, at your service,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Dean,” he echoes, his gaze raking up and down Dean’s body, drinking him in with his new eyes.

“Gotta say,” Dean drawls as his heart pounds with nerves. Doubt niggles at the back of his mind like an itch he can’t scratch, but he’s already made his memory foam bed. Might as well lie in it. “Cas is the weirdest nickname for James that I’ve ever heard.”

“My full name is James Castiel Novak,” Cas says, flushing. “James - that’s what I go by professionally. My family calls me Castiel.”

Dean can’t hold back his broad grin. “Family, eh?”

Cas’s expression takes a swift dive from embarrassed to mortified. “And friends,” he tacks on. He takes a step closer, staring at Dean’s face in wonder. “But you’re also my soulmate.”

Dean laughs giddily. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t beat around the bush. Not your style.” He jerks his head towards the bar. “I think I see an open seat. You wanna have that talk now?”

Cas hesitates. “Would you like to go to Nine Spheres instead? I’ve had business dinners every evening I’ve been in Chicago so far, and, while the food has been good-”

“It’s not the steakhouse burger?” Dean finishes for him.

The corners of Cas’s mouth turn down into a slight grimace. “Last night, a client treated us to tapas. I woke up starving.”

Dean smiles. “You know I’m always down for that burger.”

“Excellent,” Cas says with relish as he pushes open the door.

They walk onto the street, and it’s almost offensively quiet after the noise of the bar. It’s a balmy Spring evening, the sun still relatively high in the sky.

“You don’t seem disappointed anymore,” Cas says out of nowhere as they reach the end of the block.

So Cas caught on to that, back when they first ran into each other. Dean shrugs. “I just got stood up by the guy I’d specially set up to meet me at 4:01. Wouldn’t you be?”

Cas clears his throat, asking hoarsely, “You wanted it to be me?”

Dean throws him a look. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Cas just shrugs. The light changes, and they step off the curb.

“Were you… disappointed?” Dean asks hesitantly.

Cas lets out a surprised laugh. “Of course not. I didn’t even think - well,” he falters, casting a sidelong look at Dean, “I’m not disappointed. Believe me.”

The automatic doors to Nine Spheres open, hitting them with a burst of perfectly conditioned air. Dean hasn’t stepped foot in the hotel since Cas paid for his stay, but it hasn’t changed one bit. The same tiered giant chandelier glitters overhead. Giant pillars bracket the concierge desk to the left and the enormous staircase to the right that leads up to the second floor rooms. The tiled floor, so polished Dean can practically see his reflection, stretches the length of the lobby.

Dean sticks out like a flannel-wearing sore thumb. “Cas,” he hisses, “hold on. I don’t think I’m dressed right for this place.”

Cas sucks in a breath. “No,” he says as Dean’s heart sinks, “I suppose not.” He jerks his head towards the elevator bay. “Room service?”

Dean blinks.

“I’ve called for the burgers on several occasions at other locations,” Cas assures him. “It tastes as good.”

Was Cas actually trying to convince him to go up to his room? What a dumbass. Dean laughs.

Cas colors, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Forget it,” he mutters. “We don’t-”

“You know, if you invite me up to your room,” Dean cuts him off, “you’re going to have a bitch of a time getting me to leave, right?”

Cas stares at him.

“Dude,” Dean says, “I’ve never stayed anywhere this nice in my life. Between the food, the water pressure, and the robe that felt like I was fucking a cloud, I had enough of a hard time leaving last time.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says stiltedly. “We strive to provide the optimal experience to all our guests.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “’M saying, add you to the mix, and they’re gonna have to drag me out of here, kicking and screaming.”

“And if I don’t want you to leave?” Cas asks in an undertone as he pushes the up button for the elevator.

“Then I guess we don’t have a problem,” Dean says, winking.

Cas’s responding grin falls as the doors close behind them and the elevator starts moving. He shakes his head. “It’s a shame there are cameras in here.”

Dean leans in closer, whispering in his ear, “Doesn’t bother me much. Whaddya say to giving the peeping toms a show, then?”

Cas bites his lip, and this close, Dean can see how his eyes have blown black with want. “I - I can’t.”

It’s like he’s been doused with a bucket of ice water. Dean steps back, shame filling him. That’s fine. He can regroup. Hopefully Cas will be more receptive behind closed doors. It’s not the first time this has happened, anyway.

“Dean, I have to work with these people every day,” Cas hisses, wringing his hands. “The last time an executive got… busy with a coworker in the pool, the mocking didn’t end for weeks. Not to mention her rebuke from upper management.” He throws Dean a desperate look. “I would like for you to be fully clothed by the time you meet my coworkers for the first time.”

Cas is already planning for Dean to meet his people?

The elevator dings, and Cas steps out. “Are you coming?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean says quickly. As he follows Cas down the maze of rooms, he has to ask, “You were planning on introducing me to your coworkers?”

Cas’s cheeks pink. “Unless you were opposed to it,” he mutters as he stops in front of Room 1518. He sighs, making no move to insert his keycard. Instead, he lifts his head to meet Dean’s gaze squarely. “I’ve put in a transfer request to Chicago.”

“What?”

“It was before I knew you were my soulmate,” Cas says quickly. “I’ve never felt like I fit in in California, and my parents live in Pontiac. The Chicago office is decently large, and, well, I knew you were here,” he says, his voice going quiet near the end. He straightens. “So there were many reasons.”

“You’re staying?” Dean says, his mouth dry.

Cas bobs a nervous nod. “I hope that’s okay.”

Dean grins. “Sure is.”

Cas touches the inside of his wrist, his expression turning almost shy. “Of course, when I first pictured introductions, it was strictly as a friend. I don’t really know anyone else in this city well, and I’ve told you about my difficulty in social situations, so it would’ve been more for moral support than anything else. But after this evening -”

Dean interrupts his rambling. “Are there cameras in the hallway?”

“What- oh,” Cas says, his eyes flicking down to Dean’s lips before back up again. “Yes?” He points. “They’re all the way down there, though, so they can’t -”

Dean cuts him off with a heated kiss.

[yanderenightmare]

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

PUNISHMENTS

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, abuse, anxiety, blood, guilt, mind control, NONCON/DUBCON, self-harm, slavery, starvation, isolation, torture, violence

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

Her fear is much too satisfying to ever feel the need to actually hurt her. He’s still a sadist, don’t get me wrong, however laying off the physical pain and preying on the emotional side of things. 

I can take and do whatever I fucking want with you, whenever I want, and you can do nothing to stop me, Pumpkin.

However, his temper will always get the best of him despite him constantly fighting against it. The sad truth is, he doesn’t want to hurt her, he really doesn’t, but a lack of self-control is something that will always burden Katsuki. Where ignoring his building frustrations only get the best of him in the end. 

Do you think I want to hurt you?! Well, I don’t! I fucking hate it!

He will stick to threatening for the most part, discouraging bad behavior as it arises. Seemingly unaffected by most of it, given his paramount strength in contrast to his darling, he manages to ignore most of her transgressions and settle for simply ridiculing her pathetic efforts, and doing so with perverted delight. His cock growing heavy and warm at the feel of her meek struggles. In short words: refusal will be met with salacious mockery. 

Watcha gonna do about it, princess? 

You’re such a crybaby! 

I’d think again, if I were you, sweetheart. 

So cute, so hopelessly adorable, good thing you’re all mine.

Words will set him off faster than actions. Tell him she hates him, she’ll soon be preaching otherwise, his cock pounding her into a silly hot wet cross-eyed mess, feeling foolish for ever even humoring the idea of retaliating. 

What the fuck did you just say, slut? Say that again, I beg you. You’ll regret it, bitch.

Katsuki’s tolerance for unwanted behavior all depends on his mood. Sometimes he’s in a nasty mood, where he might just steer his darling into making a bad decision only to give him an excuse to punish her. These will be light punishments, sexual more times than most. He’ll have her bent over his lap, slapping the bare soft plump flesh of her ass again and again until she’s convincing enough in her apology. 

Who owns this ass? Say my name! That’s right, you freak. Mine.

However, other times the smallest thing can set him off, and certainly not in any good way. He’ll be fuming, flames licking up and about his arms, crackles of hellbent fire mingling with his maniacal cackles. She’ll be lucky to come out with minor burns. 

Time to learn your fucking lesson. Time for you to understand who here’s in charge.

However, the times where he’s silent, those times where he’s tired and fed up, those are the times she should really fear. Where he’ll be taunting like some haunting ghost, playing with her, perhaps opening the locked outer-door only to find satisfaction in hunting her down and dragging her back to do it all over again. 

I’ll give you a reason to cry. 

Continue to scream, and I’ll do it again.

DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA

Dabi doesn’t ever need to punish his darling too severely because his presence is an intimidating enough detergent on its own, encouraging her to stay away from doing anything too reckless. He looks like the onset of death, it’s only logical for her to think he might be as well. 

Waddya look so scared for, Doll? I haven’t even done anything yet.

However, he won’t shy away from making it clear who’s in charge, something of which he’ll do from the get-go. But again, the fact is in-mistakeable whence he’s large and lanky form towers over her, smiling that crooked grin that have his skin stretching in stiches and staples. Leathery fingers brushing over sensitive areas, cyan eyes intently watching her every move. 

That’s right, Babygirl, you know your place. Don’t make me remind you.

Besides he’ll sprinkle a couple path-keeping scares here and there, as in: he’ll correct behavior while she’s committing the crime and prove how idiotic her reluctance really is. Seeing how he’s much larger and much stronger than her, fighting truly is futile. He’ll make it clear she’s being foolish, lacing his words with condescension as he scolds her as though she were a child, while making her bounce up and down the length of his cock. 

Silly little doll, thinks she has an actual fighting chance. You’re adorable, Pumpkin.

For the most part he’ll just ignore when she refuses him or fights him, it’s not like her pathetic struggles can do anything to stop him. In fact, he quite enjoys it in some malicious sadistic sense. How her delicious little wiggles have trembles running pleasantly up his spine, nestling somewhere in the bulging tip of his cock. 

You’re so cute, begging like anything could get you out of this.

In some ways he’ll actually encourage misbehavior. Leaving her just enough freewill, just enough room to fight back, constantly egging her on and provoking her to retaliate either physically or verbally. 

Babydoll, so feisty today. Try that again, why dontcha?

As far as punishments actually go, they’ll never leave out the element of pleasure. Spanking is always fun, hearing her scream his name over and over until it leaves her wet lips like a broken cry. Whilst gifting as well as reprimanding her with thumbprint scorch-mark hearts never gets old either. 

Such a crybaby. Come one, cry some more for me, Angel.

Dabi is not the one to snap. He’s very calm, collected, reserved, calculating. Therefore, when his darling crosses the line, as in escapes, he’ll have punishments instore for her, punishments containing of her on her knees sucking his dick like her life is on the line, however… he’ll never go any farther. His darling is precious, he can’t have her getting damaged beyond repair. 

Let’s get you home, where you belong, Buttercup.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

Tomura will try to avoid threats and punishments altogether, knowing how his guilt will ultimately defeat the purpose of correcting his darling’s behavior. He wants to be happy when with his darling, and nothing but happy, but that won’t be possible if he serves as a constant reminder of dread to his darling with the display of fear ever so prominent and gut-wrenching in her eyes. 

Don’t look so scared when I’m around. I won’t hurt you.

However, that doesn’t mean he’ll resist his carnal desires. He will resist in hurting her when she tries to fend him off, but he’ll still bury his dick deep inside her and hold her down as he starts rocking his hips sharply into the underside of her thighs, the slap of skin on skin echoing in his barren room. 

You feel so good… just relax, I’ll make you feel good too.

He’ll lie more often than not as opposed to spouting threats. Promises upon promises, all bound to break. All in an effort to calm his darling down or to build some unstable trust in their relationship. 

I’m not gonna hurt you. 

You’re safe here.

He gets more annoyed than actually mad, her efforts mediocre against his lanky slender fingers wrapped tightly around her wrists. Giving mere half-hearted vocal corrections as he keeps her still for his cock to abuse. 

Give up already. 

Stop fighting. 

You’re only wasting your energy.

But… he walks on constant eggshells. He will try to ignore her unwanted retaliation to the best of his capability and reel in the reigns of his temper, but he’s prone to snap at some point, knowing there lies a dormant yearning to touch her in more vile ways than one. 

Careful now, don’t tempt me.

He’ll try to the very best of his efforts to be soft and understanding, not realizing before it’s too late that his actions only aided in watering the seeds of his darker desires, soon to be blooming with all hell breaking loose. 

I’m a monster? Who’s fucking fault is that?

He’s easily vexed. He doesn’t enjoy her crying and will try to make it stop immediately. Screaming is even worse, piercing his ears making him scratch at his neck frantically. 

Stop, stop, stop, stop, STOP! Stop, or I’ll give you a reason to cry.

But, the worst is when she runs. He’ll keep her locked in his room for the most part, but sometimes she’ll manage to sneak away and get lost in her attempt to find her way out of the compound he’s situated her in. He doesn’t enjoy any part of it. Running after her in empty rundown hallways like some monster in a horror-game. Catching her and hugging her close, dragging her back into his cold dark dreary room. 

Don’t even look at the door. I don’t want to feel like you’re trying to run away from me again. 

Wherever you go, I will find you, and bring you back… even if I have to drag you by your hair.

He’s a sore loser as well. He’s basically a child and will throw a temper tantrum when she beats him in a videogame. This will call for punishment, however he won’t call it that, he’ll call it another game, a game he knows she’s got no chance of winning. 

You think you can beat me? 

I’ll show you who’s boss.

SHINSO HITOSHI

Here’s one that rarely feels a need to punish his darling, mostly because he finds her struggles absolutely adorable when she’s trying to fend off either his mind-control or his scarf. 

How precious, Kitty thinks she has a choice. 

You’re so cute when you’re struggling.

But, she can choose to look at it as a punishment when he ties every inch of her body up in tight rope and spreads her thighs so far apart she doesn’t even have room to tremble when he slides his cockhead up and down the slick of the velvety folds on her exposed pussy. 

You’re such a pretty little thing, tied up like that, Kitten.

He will threaten her though, if only to see her squirm in discomfort beneath him. See her lips quiver as her mind reels upon his words, her eyes spiraling in complete chaos, not knowing what to expect. 

Pussy on a platter, where should I start? I love playing with my food.

Not much can actually anger him, but silence, cold-dreaded pin-drop deafening silence that racks at his mind, that can really bring out the eerie viciousness dwelling inside him. 

Kitty, I asked you a question. If you know what’s good for you, you better answer. 

Remember the last time you didn’t listen to me?

His lessons leaving her psyche crumbling in their wake. Fucked completely silly, his words rummaging through her mind, ordering her to cum again and again and again and one more time for master. 

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re begging for me to take control. 

Let me show you what happens to little kittens who don’t follow the rules.

True punishments will lack all forms of fun, coming in the form of utter solitude. He knows how ferally and how painfully deep loneliness bites. He’ll leave her alone for days if not weeks in complete abandonment, starving her at times, simply waiting for as long as it takes before she comes crawling back to him. 

You must be truly desperate to come to me for comfort, Kitten. I was beginning to think you were incapable of learning.

Saying the wrong thing will also set him off, even more so than silence. He loves noise. She can call him anything, yell and scream and cry until her lungs feel like they’re bleeding, and he won’t mind, but… call him a villain… don’t be surprised when he acts like one. 

People warned you about me, didn’t they? Calling me a villain. Should’ve listened… look where you are now.

She never even saw it coming, him and his large hands, how easily they could bruise and choke and scar when truly motivated. 

What? You thought you were gonna get away with that? Think again.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

Keigo deals out punishment as he sees fit. He’ll punish the crime when it’s being committed. Crimes ranging from ignoring him to saying the wrong thing to saying the right thing with the wrong attitude. But when the punishment is dealt, he’ll forget the whole ordeal ever happened, never dwelling on the past, never holding a grudge and always, constantly talking about the future. 

I really can’t take it when you cry like that… smile for me, alright? You’re so pretty when you smile. 

I love you, Dove. Just let me love you and perhaps you’ll learn how to love me too someday.

He will grow frustrated and impatient though, and that aggression will bubble up and escape his grip on it at times. But, he’ll yell more than anything, yell and cry and kiss and lick and slobber all over her, pinning her wrists to her sides and hugging her with his massive wings, suffocating her in crimson. 

Say you love me. Would that be so hard? I just need you to say you love me. Just pretend, only for a little while. Please, Dove.

He’ll humor other forms of making her more lenient. He’ll wash her hair, message her, carry or fly her places, even though she recoils back and flinches with every touch his calloused fingertips adorn her silky-smooth body with. 

Maybe branding you will help.

He has this theory that sex will bring them closer and excuses his advances with this belief each time she starts sobbing when he pries her legs open to plant his sloppy warm worming tongue between them. 

I can make you feel so good, Dove, you just gotta let me. 

Don't be so difficult, I'm doing this for you!

His real violent nature lies dormant however. It’ll only come out when she crosses the line of trying to leave him. His wings will turn razor-sharp and she’ll catch herself in the heat of her regret, missing the time he would wrap them around her ever so softly and cry into her chest. Now, he’s baring his teeth, feathers coming to slice through her skin as a punishment of a million cuts. 

What’s wrong with you!? 

Don’t you dare fucking try it, you know you can’t outrun me.

He’ll feel really bad afterwards, cleaning every wound, embalming them with cooling salves, kiss and apologize for each and every one, but on the inside, he can feel the crawling feeling of contentment linger. Seeing her so catatonically compliant is refreshing and such a well-needed break form the exhaustion of fighting all the time. 

I’m so sorry, Angel. I love you so much. You know that, right?

She barely flinches when he decides to get in the bath with her, and when he comes to message the anxiety from out of her back he can feel the slight shift of her leaning into the touch. His protective mode fades as he holds her close, and the pure earth-shattering woeful relief comes wafting over the residue of his fear of losing her, leaving him in a fit of rather ugly sobbing. 

Nothing. Without you, Angel, I’m nothing.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Izuku acts oblivious to undesired behavior and retaliation. He will very much be aware of it all, yet he believes making her feel safe is paramount. So, he’ll forgive all her nasty words, and respect her wish to keep the intimacy to a minimum. In fact, the only time he sees her completely naked is in the bath, where he actually lets her do most of her own washing. 

You’re safe here, Darling.

Other than that, he’ll coo and explain as much as he sees fit when she asks her bitter questions, however… there will always be the slight irking presence of self-righteous condescension. 

Cruel, terrible people live out there, Sweetie, people who want to hurt you. 

You’re lucky I’m so nice. Anyone else would’ve taken advantage of you and done something horrible, by now.

Although Izuku is a patient guy, he can easily see when something isn’t progressing. Good thing he has plenty of methods to make things go his way. While making her feel safe was plan A, Plan B is not as forgiving. If a soft touch isn’t to her liking, then perhaps a firm touch is what she needs. 

I know it hurts, Honey, but that’s what happens when you don’t do as I say.

She’ll wake up with her wrists and ankles tied snuggly together, face in the pillow and her exposed tender tight little pussy raised to the high skies, all for Izuku to touch and feel and suck on. 

Be good for me, Baby. We wouldn’t want to see those tears again, now would we?

He’ll be cooing her all the while when she cries out for him to stop, as well as landing a sharp painful blood-curdling smack against the plump dome of ass nudged up and pressing against his throbbing cock. 

I think this is what we needed, Baby, for both of us to be reminded of who’s in charge.

He’s far from ever causing her any real pain though, settling for claiming her tight little hole again and again until she eventually understands where she belongs and who she belongs with, or to. 

That’s right, Honey. I love you, you don't need anything or anyone but me.

He will eerily threaten her when finding her doing something not to his liking. For example: picking at the locks on her handcuffs when he leaves the room. 

What do you think you’re doing, Sweetie? 

Give up, Honey. 

I’m gonna count to three, Sweetheart.

However, with the sheer strength and adept abilities Izuku is in possession of, he can never truly feel threatened by his darling, and a fear of her leaving fades more and more when he proves time and time again how very impossible it is for her to ever manage such a thing. He’s good at assuring himself she’ll never leave, and therefor he should only spend time making those good memories instead of those foul ones. 

No need to be scared, Sweetie. I’m gonna take good care of you, like I always do.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

Kai is larger than life when it comes to threats. He puts all his assets into making them clear. Godly golden orbs and hellishly black pupils staring menacingly down into her swirling glossy puppy-dog eyes. Fingers digging manicured talons into her soft and tender cheeks, the feeling of buzzing on his fingertips, threatening to dissolve what found beneath them. Words spoken like the eerie calm found in the massive dark of fog-strewn forests. 

I shouldn’t have to repeat myself, Darling. Say you’re sorry, and perhaps I’ll forgive you.

Kai will threaten and promise his darling a life of pain is she ever to disobey him, however… he’s all bark and no bite, never having the heart to follow through on his promises. Not after seeing how sorry she is. Seeing the look of utter tearful fear in her eyes, he cannot help but think that there can be no harm in forgiving her. 

You’re the only person I’d make an exception for. 

Count yourself lucky. I won’t be as forgiving next time you decide to misbehave.

He soon comes to the conclusion, or comforts himself with the thought, that due to his darlings chaotic and clumsy nature, she’s in fact incapable of following his restrictions. 

Such a clumsy mess you are, Darling. Unable to follow the simplest of commands.

Besides, he’s come to find her forgetfulness quite endearing, understanding or choosing to believe that she doesn’t disobey to spite him. If anything, it’s a constant reminder of how in need she is of his protection. 

Such a hopeless fragile little thing. How grateful you must be to have me to protect you from your own mishaps.

Chisaki will threaten first of all, biting his own tongue when the time comes to follow through on said threats after never seeing a proper lasting change in obedience in his darling’s behavior. He always tells himself that her actions should be reprimanded sooner rather than later, but those large eyes and that frail body he uses to warm himself each night has a way of strumming his heartstrings. 

Please don’t do anything to upset me, Darling. The mess wouldn’t be good for either of us.

He does have his limits though. She crosses the line when she ends up hurting herself with her clumsiness. Tripping when running away from him, falling out the window when trying to escape, cutting herself when throwing broken shards of glass his way, getting dirt and all sorts of bacteria to infect her wounds. 

Look what you’ve done now, Darling.

He figures his quirk is the only safe measure there is to correct his darling’s behavior. Safe to pull her apart and safe to put her back together again, and again and again and again with little sympathy battling his fascination. 

Run, cry, scream; you’re simply dancing in the palm of my hand. You only have yourself to blame.

TODOROKO SHOTO

Shoto doesn’t view his darling as something to control, at least not on a regular basis. And because of this, he doesn’t see punishment, in its term, as something he has a right to exert on his darling when she fights back. He doesn’t view himself as a master correcting his pet. Admiring her efforts over feeling vexation because of them. 

So much life in you, little one.

Freewill and passion he’ll put no chains on, but pain, however, is no unfamiliar pastime for his darling nonetheless. Shoto views pain as a pleasure, as a luxury, as a lifeline. 

Don’t think of it as a punishment, Snowflake, it’s more a lesson of appreciation. You’ll thank me later, I’m sure.

When his darling is being particularly impossible, he’ll blame himself over her, knowing how it’s his fault that he can’t properly please her. Figuring more of his attention and care is in order of need, something of which he will happily oblige her with. 

Is my little blizzard feeling lonely?

He’ll have her over his lap in no time, exchanging what fingers on what hand he uses when tickling the soft sensitive spot found between her thighs, going from hot to cold and steamy and feverish. 

Is this what you wanted, Snowball? All you needed is ask. I’ll give you what you need.

But, during their more unorthodox sessions, Shoto is strict. He has to be, in order to give them both what they supposedly need. Shoto believes his darling needs his firm hand as much as his soft touch, she needs balance, whereas he needs someone to apply his balance to. 

Be a good little firecracker for me and hold still.

However, he still doesn’t view it as punishment per se. He believes his darling is asking for the applied pain when disobeying his commands, therefore the pain is something she wants more of, something she’s begging for. 

Don’t move, Crystal. 

My little snowstorm, I told you. Don’t move…

He can get angry however. Not by words, knowing how many times he screamed at his father in the fit of his rage, never genuinely meaning any of the spiteful words he’d say, he knows his darling doesn’t mean anything by them either. 

It’s okay, Wildfire. You’re just frustrated. Let me help you.

But escape… escape is a fragile topic and any attempts on achieving it will be met with stone-cold nonchalant wrath. Safe to say she won’t ever try leaving him again, not if she wants more of those irredeemable frostbite burns across her soft skin. 

You think you know pain? I’ll make you long for something as sweet as pain.

Shoto doesn’t easily forgive. He doesn’t easily forget. He doesn’t easily cope at all in any healthy way. And he definitely doesn’t easily trust after being betrayed. He might just do something brash in his strive to feel comfortable again, or else the prickling feeling of uncertainty will linger about beneath his skin. Paranoia is a better word for it. 

You think you can just up and leave? Think again, Snowball. 

You’re not going anywhere. Nowhere without me. I’ll have you crippled before that happens. Mark my words, Icicle.

His flexibility regarding the amount of freewill his darling possessed will change drastically after his trust is broken. Chains are a great reassurance he’s come to find, and if she ever finds a way out of those as well… bones will break. 

I didn’t want this, Snowfall, but… I must say… you do look your best when you’re at my mercy.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

[imasimpforshanks]

Hello, I just saw the alphabet requests. Could I please get the fluff alphabet with Luffy? Thank you sm!

Fluff Alphabet - Monkey D. Luffy

a/n: hi hi hi! thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy 💗

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

Luffy is a complete child at heart. He enjoys doing anything and everything! So long as you are there with him, he doesn’t particularly care what it is you are doing – if it’s with you he knows he’ll have the time of his life.

However, if Luffy were to pick something as his favourite activity to do with you, he would choose a water fight (weird considering his vulnerability to water but that doesn’t cross his mind in the moment). Chasing one another around, stomachs aching from laughter, cheeks sore from grinning too much. He’s never had so much fun, and he can’t tell if it’s because of the activity itself, or because it’s with you (ultimately, he decides that it’s both).

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

One of the things Luffy admires most about you is your unquenchable thirst for adventure; it’s own that rivals his own. You want to explore, live life freely and on your own terms. In Luffys eyes there is nothing more wonderful than that.

Honestly, Luffy thinks everything about you is beautiful. Every. Single. Thing. Right from the top of your head to the very tips of your toes. But, there is something about your laugh that he just finds so unbelievably intoxicating. When he hears you laugh - so carefree and so happy - his grin grows even wider. He wants nothing more than to hear that laugh for the rest of his life.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?)

This captain is a lot more emotionally intelligent that people think. He’s very in tune to what people like and dislike and he uses this knowledge to help comfort people. For example, on thriller bark after they find Zoro injured luffy attempts to give him a whole ass barrel of sake because “Zoro likes sake so it’ll make him feel better.” This same logic would apply when he’s trying to comfort you. He’ll find or do something you like because well it’ll make you happy. If food makes you happy, he’ll get you some food. If cuddles make you happy, well then you best be ready to be suffocated.

Another way I can see Luffy comforting you is by trying to make you laugh and smile. When people are laughing and smiling, they’re happy, right? So, by that logic all he’s gotta do is be goofy and then you’ll laugh like you usually do!

D-Dreams (how do they picture they future with their s/o?)

When he becomes the pirate king, you are right there with him. He can’t see himself settling down (by this I mean living in one place permanently). Luffy wants to travel the seas with you forever, going on adventure after adventure after adventure. He hasn’t really thought much about kids or anything like that, but all he has thought about is you and him growing old together.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or rather passive?)

Luffy is definitely not the passive one in the relationship, but I also wouldn’t say he’s the dominant one. He’s dependent on you and you’re dependent on him. It’s a relatively equally balanced relationship but it could even be argued that it’s only that way because of how Luffy is. He often just does what he wants when he wants regardless of your opinion. However, he also allows you to do the same. That’s not to say he doesn’t sit back and listen to your concerns if you voice them.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

Fights are a very rare occurrence in your relationship. Luffy isn’t one to maintain an argument for very long often cracking a joke or doing something silly causing you to laugh and break the tension.

On the very rare occasion that you are having a serious fight, Luffy can be extremely stubborn. Once he’s got something in his mind, its hard to make him think otherwise, so more often than not you will have to be the one to apologize if you want to move on from this.

G-Gratitude (how grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

Luffy is very aware of everything that you do for him, and he absolutely gushes about it to everyone he comes into contact with. He can’t stop talking about you. People who have never met you before suddenly seem to know about every single time you gave up a portion of your dinner to Luffy because he was still hungry but Sanji wouldn’t let him have anymore because dinner was over.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

Luffy is an open book. He cannot keep a secret to save himself. Not even a good secret like a surprise party for you or something, in fact, the crew have to be the ones to plan surprise parties for you on luffys behalf cos he gets too excited and just blurts it out straight away. Basically, if there is something he isn’t telling you the only explanation is that he genuinely forgot. But as soon as you ask him, he’ll tell you - without hesitation.

I-Inspiration (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

Being with Luffy has helped you to be a little more carefree. He has taught you to embrace your youth. What’s the rush in growing up? Why does everything need to be so serious all the time? It’s okay to loosen up, and goof around as long as you are still dependable.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

Luffy does get jealous. But, not in the usual sense. He doesn’t get jealous of other people interacting with you, or with you interacting with other people. He trusts you fully, so there’s no reason for him to be jealous in that front. However, what he does get jealous about is you spending time with others, without him. Luffy gets serious FOMO, so if you’re doing anything and he’s not invited, that is when he gets jealous. This sweetie just wants likes to be included! On the off chance that you are doing something without him and Luffy starts to feel jealous, he will simply insert himself into the conversation or the activity. He does NOT care (LMAO).

K-Kisses (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

Luffy is a very energetic kisser. There’s no real rhyme or reason to his movements he just smashes his lips against yours. He’s eager and enthusiastic, which can make him a bit sloppy at times, but he doesn’t care.

Your first kiss took you completely by surprise. The two of you were just hanging out then before you knew it, he had kissed you. It happened so quickly they you barely had time to process what happened, but he was just sitting there looking at you while giggling his little heart out.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

When it comes to telling you how he feels, he approaches it as he does everything else; directly. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, rather always speaking his mind and being up front. With you it’s no different. The second he realizes how he feels about you, he’s on his way to tell you. No hesitation, no doubt, just 100% honesty. It doesn’t matter where you are or who might be around, Luffy will tell you in that very moment.

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

Marriage isn’t something Luffy has really thought about. The two of you are together constantly, you know you love each other, so why would you need to get married? It’s not that he’s against getting married, it just isn’t something he’s particularly concerned about. Well… that is until he hears the words ‘wedding’ and ‘party’. Once he’s heard that Luffy is set on getting married right then and there (that’s basically his proposal too). Any excuse for a party.

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

To be honest, Luffy mostly just uses your name. He likes it because it belongs to you which makes it special. He does like to find out what nicknames you had as a child, he thinks those a pretty fun and makes him feel as though he’s known you for your whole life, so he does also use your childhood nickname/s.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

Luffy gets even more clingy. Clingy may not be the right word, but it’s the best way to describe it. When he’s in love he feels an overwhelming urge to be near you all the time. He craves your presence and your attention so is constantly asking you to play or chat or anything! He really just wants to spend time with you, more so than usual. The whole crew actually picked up on it quite instantly because they noticed the lack of Luffy in their day-to-day schedule. They knew it was more than platonic relationships Luffy had for you when he was five minutes late for lunch because he was too overjoyed by your attention.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

He’s all about showing affection both platonically and romantically. He catches you (and others) so off guard because one moment its silent and the next thing you know you’re hearing “gomu-gomu no…” and being tackled to the ground by a pair of rubbery arms. If Luffy wants to kiss you, he’s going to kiss you. He doesn’t have a care in the world about who may see.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that is beneficial in a relationship?)

Can promise you a life full of excitement. You never need to worry about your relationship getting ‘boring’ or ‘being stuck in a rut’ because that will never happen with Luffy. Each day is filled with adventure and something new to experience. There’s a whole world out there that you can experience together.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)

Many people wouldn’t expect it, but he is indeed romantic. It’s far from cliché and strays from the typical notions of ‘romance’ but it’s romantic, nonetheless. Luffy is just unapologetically himself. Because of this anything he does for you (even the littlest of actions), you know it’s sincere and comes from the heart. That is what makes Luffy romantic.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? do they believe in them?)

Not supporting you in your goals and dreams goes entirely against Luffys character. He truly believes you, and anyone else for that matter, can do whatever they put their minds to. He is your number 1 supporter, actively helping you every step of the way. No one believes in you more than Luffy.

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship or do they prefer certain routine?)

When you’re with Luffy you don’t need to worry about spicing up your relationship. You will never once experience a boring day. The relationship is constantly filled with new places to go, and new things to see, and you’re fortunate enough to be able to do all of it together.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

Contrary to popular belief, Luffy is very emotionally intelligent (I said this earlier actually). He can read people freakishly well, and his s/o is no different. In fact when it comes to you his emotional intelligence only multiplies.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

As with most of the other relationships (platonic and familial) in his life your relationship is very important to him. For Nico Robin, he declared war on the world government. For Sanji, he went up against a Yonko and her crew. You would be no different. He would go to the ends of the earth (maybe further) for you. It’s just how he is. His relationships and his dream to be pirate king are not mutually exclusive, meaning, he can’t have one without the other.

W-Wild card (a random fluff headcanon?)

Brings you random little knick-knacks, or like a little memento from EVERY SINGLE island you go to. The items range from a pretty shell he saw on the beach to a funky looking figurine he spotted in a market.

X-XOXO (Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

Luffy loves to kiss and cuddle. He’s an extremely affectionate person. He practically clings to you like a koala bear. That physical contact is something he enjoys a lot; it’s really reassuring for him.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they are missing their partner?)

As long as Luffy is distracted and kept busy, he’ll be able to cope. He entertains himself and slowly counts down the days until he can see you. He builds up the excitement and he becomes like a child the night before a school unable to sleep or keep still; he just wants to see you.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind?)

This has been established already. All relationships (platonic, romantic, familial) hold a special place in Luffys life. He declared war on the world government, fought countless fearsome opponents all for the sake his friends (sometimes even people he just met). Your relationship with Luffy would be no different at all. In fact, for you, he would do all of that and much much more.

[in-tua-deep]

Oooooo the red bock au sounds so interesting! Does Five caught himself thinking of his brothers just as numbers and weapons like Reginald talks in his book? Does he read Vanya book to remind himself that they are still human even though he reads it through lens of someone hurt by them all? And I feel like the handler would know either way about the books but o it's so much fun to see five being paranoid

I think having both books and both perspectives reminds Five that... he’s getting some very biased accounts of his own siblings. I think that when he’s still young, he writes down as many memories as he can remember because... he starts to forget, at some point. 

Vanya’s book talks about how volatile Diego and Luther’s relationship is, and so Five writes down the time Luther and Diego teamed up to toss Five off a balcony when Five kept switching the pens in their hands with pipe cleaners during a lesson (and he will maintain until his dying day that he was just practicing his control, c’mon guys!)

when Reginald’s notes call Allison an “insufferable, narcissistic creature,” Five remembers Allison bribing him to cause trouble and distract Reginald so that she could use the microwave unobserved to heat up some water bottles as makeshift heat packs for Luther’s sore muscles

when Vanya calls Ben “easily manipulated,” Five recalls Ben arguing theories with him at 2am after one of Ben’s training sessions where Ben almost flipped his bed when Five jokingly suggested that he could use the horror’s tentacles to bounce up and down like a pogo stick before Ben tackled him and tried to beat Five to death with an encyclopedia of sea creatures (affectionately)

I think having Reginald’s journal actually helps in a lot of ways, because Five automatically autocorrects literally all of Reginald’s thoughts to be like, mostly inaccurate and much harsher than they need to be. So when he reads Vanya’s journal he also autocorrects and is able to recognize that it is a very biased and somewhat harsh view of his siblings

(he doesn’t distrust them as much as he does in canon, with only Vanya’s harsh words to cling to with no reminder that they were all raised by a man capable of unfathomable cruelty, no reminder that authors can be oh so biased)

outside of his equations, there’s notes to himself written in the margins of Vanya’s book. Sometimes they’re just small, pointing out that Klaus had fought to include Vanya in trap week (Klaus then proceeded to team up with her and managed to catch Five in a snare - he actually still has a scar around his ankle from his upsidedown thrashing before he managed to steal one of Diego’s knives to cut himself down) or pointing out that Luther’s chilly attitude when they were ten was probably the result of Vanya outperforming him in every standardized test they took because of Luther’s ridiculous inferiority-superiority complex

at the very least he has comparison, because Reginald’s book calls Klaus an absolute failure while Vanya’s book called him “sweet, as a child at least”

As for the Handler... she’s aware that he has Vanya’s book and a red notebook, but I don’t think she actually knows what’s in the red notebook! Reginald was notoriously secretive, after all

So the Handler assumes that the red notebook is where Five keeps his time travel equations because aw, he hasn’t given up! how cute!

She makes an assumption that, logically, makes sense. Of course Five is still trying to figure out time travel, no matter how much he denies it! Of course he’s writing the equations down! What a silly boy, thinking that he could hide this from her, of course she knows about his little plans to save his siblings ;3c

And because she’s so powerful and knowledgeable and one step ahead all the time, she makes an assumption and assumes that it is fact. Because she’s so smart, of course she isn’t wrong! She’s had Five clocked from day one!

(The Handler thinks she has Five all figured out, a creature so based in sentiment. Why would he carry a book around that details the torture his siblings went through? He hates his father, why would he ever carry around his father’s notebook! The Handler has a fatal flaw, and it is that she doesn’t understand loyalty and sneers at sentiment and those are two of Five’s most powerful driving factors. Five lives for his siblings and would die for his siblings, almost his entire life has been dedicated to saving them. Not the world, just his family.) 

(She understands that Five considers his family to be exceptionally valuable, but doesn’t comprehend that Five is 100% willing to die for them should it come down to it. Why on earth would anyone value something like siblings over their own life? Absurd. I genuinely believe that the Handler thinks she could get Five to betray his siblings with the right leverage, and so she fundamentally does not understand Five as a person)

To be fair to the Handler, the whole academy’s morals and just. completely and utterly fucked. Luther condemns the murder of innocent civilians even if it would save the planet but doesn’t blink an eye at killing the ‘bad guy’ Commission agents. Diego stabs criminals as a pastime while still holding himself at a moral high ground for saving people, despite the fact that too many criminals are forced into crime by unfair circumstances. Allison used her powers to bolster her career without even blinking but now refuses to use her powers at all because of the manipulation of one (1) child, not even against ‘bad guys.’ 

I mean. Vanya wrote an entire salt book without consulting her siblings that had lasting impacts on at least one of her sibling’s career in the public eye and potentially impacting her siblings relationships with everyone who had every read the spark notes on her book, without the opportunity for reprisal. Publishing your entire family’s dirty laundry as personal emotional catharsis is... kind of a dick mood, lets be real. Especially when you were all abused children raised in an environment of excessive violence and rigid structure. 

Like yeah, of course Allison is good at manipulation and lying - she grew up with an abusive and over-controlling father. She probably lied as easily as breathing about where she’d been, who she was with, what she was doing, etc. The only privacy they got in that household was what they seized with their own hands and carved out for themselves! Is it fair to say that Allison’s superpower is dishonestly?

Is it fair to say that Klaus got crueler as he grew? He was tortured and turned to drugs as an unhealthy coping mechanism, and then he sat down at a table and looked at all the other little kiddies who did not get locked into a crypt overnight. In fact, there was one child who never got any extra training at all! Can you imagine the jealousy? The bitterness? Klaus might have been exceptionally cruel to Vanya as a teenager, she had everything he wanted and dared to complain about it. Can you imagine listening to someone wistfully wish they could join in on missions when you know that the cost for doing so has been carved out of your soul?

My point is, none of these little bitches have anything that resembles a sane moral compass. They’re unpredictable as fuck! It’s like herding cats! You never know what they’re going to do next! Oh? Are they going to investigate in any logical pattern? No, because Diego just remembered Patch exists and helping her print flyers for the annual police ball is more important than saving the world or whatever lol

Luther is over there investigating the moon! The moon! Meanwhile Allison is breaking and entering her sister’s student’s house because she got shady vibes off of him one time and she has never heard of a proportionate action in her life. 

Meanwhile Vanya is going through the phone book trying to call up psychiatrists who have any familiarity with whatever fucked up meds Dad put her on because like, she would like to Not Be On Them (fuck you dad) but also understands that danger of quitting cold turkey something you have been taking for years and would like a professional opinion on how to safely decrease and eventually eliminate her usage, thanks (Klaus is hanging over her shoulder pointing out the ones who will sell you non-prescription drugs for a price and Vanya mentally crosses those ones off of her list to call)

Five is probably joining on the breaking and entering because Allison promised she would sweet talk to eye dude if he did her this solid 

(Five complains at length about how investigating the apocalypse should not be a solid because she would 100% die as well if the apocalypse came to pass)

[lovee-infected]

♦ Anon asked ~ Okay how would guys and their darling react to being slapped by Eliza? Feel free to write for any of those who got slapped ^^ Gender is neutral

Aaa this one was really sweet so I did it for all guys (who got slapped-)

I reached my 10 pic limit and had to sacrifice twins ixkskxksos

[note : re-posted his because my tags weren't working]

♦♥♠♣

Poor boy remained silent for a few minutes after that mess with ghost princess , still unable to talk

His cheeks are flushed that proved him being embarrassed , making him look greatly...cute

Just as much as you loved seeing softer sides of him you can't see him this sad , so now it is your responsibility to lift him up

He is upset with both failing to help and being an idiot in front of Eliza

The whole thing proved how soft he can actually be , which fascinated you . You hadn't ever thought of him being like this ; shy and... helplessly childish with girls

Deuce is a bit worried with the way you see him now , he doesn't want his picture ruined . But as a matter of fact you like him even more now , he could be serious and strict at times but still , he's a soft boy inside

You ask if he feels any shy around you and it makes him turn his head away to add a nervous : " M...me? Absolutely not- why would I .??"

You now know that he actually does but it isn't something he needs to hide , that actually makes him look awfully cute

He still seems sad though so you give him a small kiss on forehead , making him blush even harder

Well even if he's shy with you you aren't ; after all he is your boy

Trey himself couldn't help laughing at what had happened. He tried his best to be a gentleman , and he really was . But seems like Eliza had more different standards than he was expecting

Trey's mind just wasn't ready to go from his normal self to a high-level prince , but he doesn't find singing a part of a prince's duties either

"My my , it really messed up," he says as he joins you and the others in the losers' bench

You knew that the proposal was all fake , but Trey just wasn't one who could act it all ; he didn't have Vil's pure talent of an actor or Leona's charm of a prince , yet he did his very best

You tell that you really liked the way he presented himself , pretty much of a mature young man he really is and he gets blessed . He isn't much of a romantic guy and he appreciates that you like him as he is

You give him a "Ghost bride surely lost a great option , " to lift him up and it did , making him wink adding : " Well, perhaps she knew that I have a better one myself ,"

Finally after posting 34 pics of his slapped face along with other supplies such as his fake tears , dead flowers and some broken-hearted captions with tons of #Ghostbride #Puishmentoflove #illfate #brokenheart and and and you managed to have him looking off his phone for a second

You tell how he's making an issue out of nothing but he'll just laugh : " Who cares that it's all fake ? Teens are gonna love it ! ,"

He must be thankful that Eliza didn't see this part pf him or he should've spammed pics of his broken legs and hands instead

He takes the best advantage of being slapped and you wonder how he's just being all excited about it , what if the same thing happens while he's seriously proposing to someone ?

You ask if it bothers him , the feeling of being rejected and he goes silent for a moment not looking at his phone but the ground now , perhaps thinking of an logical answer

You drop your head regretting what you asked and then , he cuts you off with a small kiss on your cheek : " That's simple , my dear (y/n). Not a single soul likes being rejected no matter what the reason is , so that's why I always make sure that I won't get rejected before asking ; today was just an exception ,"

You get a bit confused at the answer , wanting him to give you an example

He slightly smirks before adding :" Well , ‌you didn't reject me , did you ?"

For the heaven's sake ; you couldn't be any more thankful that he got rejected . From the very moment they announced that princess was looking for a prince you feared of her picking Leona , a real prince

Leona is already prince charming of his home town ; Not a single soul could say no to him

The second he got slapped , his eyes - You were trying to feel sorry about it but the way he glared at Eliza as if he was a chubby cat pushed into water ; it was beyond hilarious

Leona has his own ways when it comes to attracting ladies , making him almost irresistible to many including you , but not the ghost bride

He seems really pissed off at the whole thing ; not that he liked the ghost bride that much , he just hates being rejected

With him being a growling cat for the rest of day , you decide to spoil him a little ; letting him take naps on your lap and rubbing back of his ears make him a whole lot better , but he won't say a word of satisfaction

You are used to his cringy behaviors and can't help loving them , you are really thankful that your cat would still be all yours - even if it was supposed to be a fake marriage

He just - Froze

Sword skills ? Were they a thing he lacked ? Was it just one of those royal fancy rules or could it be a serious problem ? He now was concerned

You found him getting slapped pretty unfair since not many these days are familiar with sword skills ; but there were no argues on that point since Eliza once lived as a girl from more than 500 years ago , so she surely ends up having more complicated standards comparing to you

You tell Jack about it and that it's fine , but he refuses to believe

He had heard of Sebek together with Silver being well-trained sword men which meant that this tradition still remained necessary , so he now is seriously thinking about picking it up

You couldn't blame him though , once he feels like he needs to be stronger that's it ; but you don't want him overwork himself

You insist that sword skills are pretty silly to him while he's got his powerful fists and the secret unleash the beast , but he still seems to have a doubt about it

Since he looks pretty certain with his choice , you don't try to stop him but you make promise that he wouldn't overwork himself , which he does

He intends to get stronger to protect his beloved ones , including you so there was nothing that could hold him back if it was because of you

♦♥♠♣ Jade Leech

Jade still doesn't get why Eliza didn't like the flowers , yes he didn't like them either but aren't flowers ladies' most appreciated gift ? How confusing , he thought

You slap the ice-pack against his face , just who on earth would give away unwanted flowers from his terrarium as a bouquet ?

Jade doesn't get why he shouldn't have , he was benefitting both himself and Eliza , right ? Or could that be that surface girls followed different romance traditions from underwater ? He needed more information then

He asks for ways to make a girl fall in love , which made you laugh , you told that if he's going to retry the thing with Eliza , he would end up needing way more than one ice-pack

He agrees with you on that point , so he wonders if he can practice tactics with you since you are a pretty gentle and calm partner , and it makes you blush

You tell him to focus on not being slapped again as long as this ghost marriage lasts and in return , you then can teach him some tricks with ladies

♦♥♠♣ Floyd Leech

He didn't really like Eliza from the very beginning so there was no way the two of them would end up together even if he wasn't slapped

Floyd isn't into this type of girls which are too strict and loud ; he prefers softer and cuter types , something he can dominant

You expect him to get moody and pissed off , but he just doesn't seem to care

thanks to him Jade as well got slapped -very hard- and that successfully lifted his mood up

You ask him if he wants to take a walk and he agrees in deal of you paying for his candy , and you gladly agree

The two of you have candies together and make fun of others getting slapped back there

Both of you agree on Jade's expression being way more hilarious than Azul's

When you finally get back to others trying to find a way , he whispers into your ears : " If I ever were to propose to someone , I'd prefer it to be to someone like you"~

Man , he's really pissed off. Talking too much will usually be beneficial while dealing on a contract , mostly because of the way it confuses dealers and gives them an unconscious vibe causing them to believe you ; strange yet helpful

Azul hadn't thought of proposing being this different from making contracts , and it was odd to him

He now is supposed to be looking for a way to save his boardgames club friend , but another thought keeps haunting him :

What are the correct ways of... making someone fall for you ? To attract a lady ? Isn't having a good face and using sweet words like enough ? He needed more lessons if he wanted to be an ideal dealer

You sigh as his serious replies , disappointed to see how he really had no idea about emotional terms

You tell him how life isn't always about business and benefitting , but sometimes about feelings and well , loving

He mumbles saying how useless emotions are , a waste of time and brain cells to him

You suggest teaching him more about emotional situations which may be helpful , and charming to others , which sounds like a great deal to him , but he doesn't accept you giving it to him for free, saying that you as well must set a price

You aren't really sure what to ask , so you just want him to invite you to a fancy dinner after having this case with the ghost bride solved

Just as you hear the sound of him getting slapped , you know that it was bad news

Vil is trying his best to be calm but...it doesn't really seem to be working . His fist's shaking in anger as if he's gonna slam it against the wall or maybe someone . He got rejected and he couldn't take it ; he

wasn't one to accept such a thing

Although he isn't a real prince , he had anything needed to be a real one : Elegance , Charm , Nobility and maturity ; he was perfect

He is really furious now , specially thinking at how Lilia intended to avoid Malleus from showing up in fear of his high chance of being accepted . He wasn't one to say that he would surpass Malleus , but he wasn't any lower than him either: if a dog was the only reason he got rejected then Malleus as well would've been...but wait- doesn't it mean that Idia too shouldn't have been chosen since he loves cats ?

In that case..it must've had another reason : He wasn't good enough

You knew that Vil would never be satisfied no matter how many times you told him that he was already gorgeous , he wanted to be better

It was useless trying to take his mind away from being rejected through the same ways so you had to sacrifice yourself :

You go to Vil asking is he can join you for a second -until others get slapped try to propose because you are having some... beauty issues

You try to get him talking to you as much as possible ,from importance of having an organized sleep schedule to forbidding laughing too much since it will bring you wrinkles

You know that if there's one thing that Vil would always be proud of , that would be speaking of his high-key beauty skills which he couldn't ever get enough of

He could go on all day if Leona didn't cut him off : " Oi , aren't the two of you done yet ?"

Even with Leona pissing him off , he now seems to be a lot better and that was a success for you . Even if he doesn't notice how you were trying to secretly lift his mood up

Lilia is...crying ?

Your heart melts at the sight of his soft tears falling down his pale face , making you as well cry

You don't know why you are being overly emotional but who on earth would slap others because just because of being too cute ?!

You can't help but to be mad at Eliza , wanting to punch her in the face just as she did to Lilia , but Lilia stops you , wondering why you might want to do such a thing

You angrily express how unfair you think what she did was , telling that she shouldn't be treaten las if she has the right to do whatever she'd like

"Just HOW is cuteness considered to be a bad thing ?!" you argue , loud enough to gain attention to yourself . Lilia takes you out before Eliza could've heard

He then sits beside you , trying to see what could've been wrong with you ; were you sick or just in a bad mood maybe ? He couldn't tell

" I'm sorry I just , got really mad with what she did and after you cried..." you mumble slowly , making Lilia giggle

" My my darling , I wasn't the only one who got slapped and also , I just cried at how my whole presentation keeps getting ruined by my... appreance . You know , it's a bit frustrating to be called cute after living hundreds of years as a terrifying dark fae ," he says , shaking his head in a playful manner

You are relieved knowing that he wasn't crying of pain or being heartbroken , and now he as well seems to be better

He asks of you're ready to return inside and you quickly agree , admitting that you might have been a bit too emotional

Just before you two get to others , he brings himself closer to ask you something : " You as well agree that I'm cute , don't you ?"

"How dare she- I see now why master Lilia didn't let master Draconia approach - this disgraceful spirits don't deserve having the slightest sight of him..."and and and were the words you keeped up with untill you grew tired which was 20 minutes later . You really wish him to have a turn off button sometimes

Sebek feels really offended specially because he was just about to get to the best part of his speech about Malleus but got slapped in face

The sight of his mouth getting shut as Eliza slapped him was priceless , perhaps she and Malleus were the only ones who had ever got to shut his mouth

When he finally cools down , his puppy side is brought up : " (y/n) , maybe I didn't present myself good enough in front of her and caused her to take young master lightly . Is it my fault ? "

You keep telling him that Eliza just didn't like how he brought Malleus out of nowhere and started to ramble nonsense about him when he was supposed to be proposing

Sebek doesn't take your comment as a polite one at first , bit he had to agree , maybe it would have worked out for her if this ghost knew who the great Malleus Draconia is and that was why it all went wrong

You sigh at how he doesn't get your point at all but you don't say a word , he deeply appreciated Malleus after all ; Thought Malleus had to be removed surgically from him

Since he doesn't seem to be giving up , you say that you'd really like to hear that best part about Malleus , making him flatter and start talking like a parrot again

You don't really care what he says or how great Malleus can actually be , but if that's what makes him happy you are fine with it

[mc-critical]

I really don’t understand the amount of people who apparently dislike Mihrimah for not giving Rüstem a chance/not having Rüstem grow on her. I don’t know entirely how I feel about Mihrimah as a character but I feel like if you were to dislike her that’d be a silly reason. It was a opportunistic marriage, one she never wanted and to a man she never loved. Not to mention he was also borderline pedophilic (when he said to her on her wedding night that he had been “waiting for this moment for years” when she was 17..okay) and then coercing her into consumating the marriage through the threat of suicide. Sure, the circumstances of Rüstem’s life were sad, but I don’t understand how that entails him being *entitled* to Mihrimah’s love or affection. And if anything I found Rüstem to be misogynistic and possibly even abusive, which likely made marriage to him all the worse. Mihrimah’s definitely not perfect or above criticism, but that doesn’t mean she owed any man love, sex or affection, royal borne woman or not.

I don't understand them, either. Because this is the last thing Mihrimah should be disliked for.

Rüstem is a very odious character with minimal redeeming qualities. His supposed love for Mihrimah is established disturbingly early on and while that may have fled over the audience's heads (it sure did fly over my head when I first watched the show!) because their marriage is a historical fact and as such, is automatically considered the normal course of things - the questionable pedophilic implications are definitely there and send off the alarming signs of utterly problematic behavior. Sure, he's done his duty by saving her after she fell off a horse and (little!) Mihrimah thanked him for it, but it is clearly seen in his eyes by the second episode he's on-screen that there's something more and something baffling when the girl is so young. And it only escalated from there.

Obviously, most of his fanbase ignores or flat out misses this aspect of his character, but I also find people that think that his attitude to Mihrimah is the only bad thing about Rüstem when I find most of his negative traits to be present outside of Mihrimah, but with her witnessing them. I feel the connection to Iskender Çelebi and the way he bacame the stable-man of the castle are his most important character establishing moments: they shine a light into his sneakiness and ability to play dirty, but also reveal his immediate prejudice against Ibrahim. The ambition, similar to Hürrem's, but not for the same reasons, is set up from the get-go. He's seemingly following Iskender, just like he comes to seemigly follow Hürrem, but he always forges his own path for his own gain. His alleged "loyalty" is the thing that Rüstem usually gets the most credit for, but while he begins to look like Hürrem's loyal companion that shall fulfill her every order, this whole facade is deconstructed and ultimately, totally broken apart in S04. His character establishing moments recontextualize all the decisions he makes in that season and show the true nature of his ambition: he followed Hürrem when she prevailed over everyone, he followed her when she seemingly gave him the world and all the desired power and when she and the one she wanted for the throne were put into a disadvantaged position and Selim got the upper hand, he ran straight for the opportunity, despite of him making an oath in front of the Quran not to do that. He turns out to be simply an opportunist hyena who works only for his own gain. Nothing more. Just like he saw the opportunity to get rid of the stable-man before him in the past, now he sees the opportunity to be on the winning side again with Selim. He doesn't care who is he in front of and who he promised what, as long as they're of no use to him, he bails. His "loyalty" immediately disappears from his positive traits, because it turns out he never had it in the first place. People praise him for his loyalty for Mihrimah, but that "loyalty" also lasted so long - when he found out that she wouldn't ever come to love him, he began to bang with Gracia Mendez, in conjunction with the betrayal of what Hürrem stood up for. Now, tell me, how can Mihrimah love such a guy? That was one of the only reasons she tolerated him and when even that was lost, how can she still keep her ties with him?

[His backstory is sad indeed, but the only thing it does is put his actions into perspective, not justify them or make him likeable somehow. Especially when what that "character lore dump" specifically explains is his refusal to tell Nigar where her daughter is - the backstory makes that action logical for his character, but it's still framed as nothing short of spiteful. That said, he still does have some soft sides and the arc with his brother is where I found him the most sympathetic - this is the time Rüstem actually showed vulnerability without false alarms or disguise and his brother was probably the only thing that was precious to him and stayed precious after all these years, consistently throughout his screentime. What helps even more, is the brother's role as a moral compass and the last bridge between the past/his loyalties and the future/the victories he would achieve through opportunism. That was the last gasp of what was left of his possible humanity and after his brother was killed, he let it go almost instantly, because... well, after he willingly chose his own life in the saray, he might as well continue to live it, right? Him saving a boy in S03 without any hesitation whatsoever, was also respectable. But these demonstrations of a softer side of his being are also taking place outside of Mihrimah, but with her not witnessing them altogether. And they do little in changing the general impression of Rüstem's character and his relationship with Mihrimah.]

We have to keep in mind that Mihrimah's whole S03 arc was finding purpose in her life and finding true love. She had many love stories throughout the series with different people, different personalities and different motives to try to make it work with them. No matter what they've went through together and despite of them all having the same outcomes due to different outside (and inside) factors, there is a reason she fell for these people in the first place. Okay, while for Bali Bey it was a bizarre, puppy, immature, childish love, for Taşlicalı something truly genuine began to flourish with all the glances, poems, dedication (Mahidevran succeeded to break them up, but it's not to be denied that Taşlicalı was very hard to convince and he was still thinking of her afterwards) and sweet words. She got a call for a new adventure with him. Bali Bey, on the other hand, was adored by her mostly for his handsomeness, I feel, but even when he tore all her dreams apart, he showed tact and respect. What I mean to say is, if Rüstem has qualities that are "worthy of Mihrimah", wouldn't she see them? Wouldn't she see all these virtues? Because all she sees before the marriage are his words that she will marry him, that she will be his and that's it. The best she sees of him is his good manners when he asks her whether she wants something or stuff, but he could do that with everyone else, knowing his post, and the previous implications make even that alone head scratching. Why would she want a man like that? I agree with all your points. Are you, people, denying Mihrimah her feelings? She realized the potential advantages of this marriage and agreed to do it regardless, why does she have to come to love him when he truly gives her no real reasons to, even before she married him?

I believe Rüstem cares about Mihrimah, albeit in his own distorted, toxic way, but in reality, he didn't do her any good. His relationship with Mihrimah revels in manipulation and facades for her to keep, because she has to "protect" her brothers. Rüstem never actually took account of her own feelings or opinions on matters, especially when what she proposed wasn't an opportunistic enough option for him to afford. Their interactions are mostly focused on the survival of the game and the actions that have to be taken to achieve that. He often puts an unbelievable amount of pressure on her, which while given because of the system they live in, hurt more than it helped. Their relationship was never allowed to flourish in a healthy manner and Mihrimah could never be truly herself in it, not even for a moment. The castle she lived in, her home, was merely full of tension every day, not a source of comfort. His stoic, serious cunning contrasts with her own spirit. Not to mention that it always seemed he considered his marriage to Mihrimah as a price, a goal he had finally achieved and I doubt that she wasn't aware of it to some extent. The root of the marriage is only political opportunism and no matter how hard you try, you simply cannot force a person to love someone they're with only out of sheer necessity, only for a purpose for "the greater good". Rüstem never did anything to earn Mihrimah's love and she shouldn't be hated for not loving him. This is what MC Rüstem is as a character, whether we like it or not, and he isn't a healthy person for Mihrimah. If she couldn't warm up to him when she fully got to know him in their alone time, that means something is missing. That means he just isn't for her and. that's. OKAY.

But there may be reasons why some people could dislike Mihrimah because of it. I offer my experience with cases I've encountered in forums: these people are usually very invested in Hürrem's character to the point they view everything she does as excusable, at the least, so of course they would want to justify Hürrem marrying Mihrimah to Rüstem. But plainly selfish political gain is no justification and that may leave cracks in their view of Hürrem and it all may disturb them to a great amount. That's why they channel this ire on Mihrimah and perhaps demand for her to warm up to Rüstem, so they get the justification Hürrem supposedly deserves, especially paralleled with Valide and Mahidevran's previous attempt to marry Aybige and Mustafa, who.. surprise, surprise (but not really), didn't love each other. There's another facet to this, with people seeing or wanting to see Mihri only as "her mother's daughter" and not wanting to marry, not loving Rüstem destroys that picture, because there's a "crack in the system", she doesn't listen to her mother, who obviously knows better and that could be disappointing or demotivating, given the expectations she has set when she defended her in E84. Or maybe they dislike Mihrimah for not loving Rüstem, because they do find something in him. They love "bad boys" and genuinely don't know why Mihrimah doesn't, either and that could make them see her as an annoyance. Or maybe they just anticipate more juicy scenes between her and Rüstem because of the probable chemistry between the two actors and if they watch it only for the spectacle (believe me, such people really exist!), they may insist that Mihrimah is only spoiled and ruined everything for them. Or maybe, again, people may find this insulting to the historical facts or whatnot and if Mihrimah didn't not stand him, this "mess" of writing could be fixed a little. The writers have ruined her character along with the history, according to them. It's absurd, I know and I don't get it, either, but the reasons are there, as far as I'm concerned. That still doesn't take away from the fact that this is the weirdest accusation you could throw at Mihrimah, with how Rüstem himself is.

You're right that Mihrimah has many other, vastly more offputting traits that she could be disliked for. Little Mihrimah is very brash and spoiled and entitled, to the point she gave her own mother a run for her money. That was gone when she grew up, but it would be understandable if some didn't actually believe the change, especially when she shows this side of hers again every now and then. She could be perceptive, but could also be prone to influence at the same time, sometimes to an annoying degree. There have been times where she has let her own bias lead her and that clouded her judgement in several occasions. She came to idealize her mother too much sometimes, as well. She was terribly insistent on her infatuation with Bali Bey and letting go of it took her very long. She didn't want to listen much to the enemies of her own mother. Her huge love for Bayezid prevented her from viewing Selim as objectively. She could be vengeful. She could be bossy. She couldn't fully face someone calling her out on her mistakes. (the confrontation with Selim in E139) She became so engrained to her castle life that when she was offered a way out, she didn't follow it. All these are very interesting character flaws for me, but I get why they might be a dealbreaker. But disliking or hating her for not loving Rüstem? Heck, hating her for her contribution to Mustafa's death alone is more valid than that! Disliking her for all these flaws piling up together is perfectly reasonable. But for this? It's strange.

[iminye]

Chess

@tolkienocweek day one - shipping. Aracundo, Gil-Galad, a bet and chess, also cuddles and my very clumsy first attempt at romance. I should have gone with Headcanons instead probably.

It wasn't unusual for Aracundo to wait until way after midnight for him. Council meetings were a matter of long debates and advisors always found a way to make them even longer, mostly by discussing a topic that on other days would've taken mere minutes for such an extended period of time that it seemed downright exhausting for an outsider. But he knew that this was part of his husband's duties.

Husband.

The thought made him blush a little and he looked at the slim silver ring he wore on his right hand. Husband. They had only been married for four years and yet Aracundo was sure he would never tire of it. It made him happy in a way he hadn't been in a very long time.

Not since… not since ever actually. He couldn't recall a time in which he had been as happy or even happier than now.

His childhood had been a mess to put it lightly. He didn't like to recall it. His adolescence he had spent fighting in a war. His adulthood however he would spend married, loving and in peace.

He was sure of it. Now came a time of happiness. An eternity of love and security.

While he waited Aracundo used his time to run over some formulas that had been invented during the First Age and that had survived the sinking of Beleriand. Their purpose had been lost over the chaos of the war and the deaths of those who invented them but Aracundo had made the decision to rediscover their purpose even though they seemingly had none. Most of them he had quickly realised were indeed only brain exercises, theoretical concepts without any further usage.

But there were exceptions to this and whenever he found one he was overjoyed. His husband was very profound in putting them to use whenever or wherever they could be applied.

While he went through the sparse notes of a Gondolindrim scholar who had sadly not survived the Fall of Gondolin he glanced over to the table beside the large window where a chess game waited to be finished. A smile formed on his lips.

-

"Chess? What's so interesting about that?" Ereinion asked and picked up one of the pieces Tyelpë had carved for Aracundo out of soapstone. It wasn't his brother's best piece of work but Aracundo loved them regardless, it was the latest begetting day gift he had received, the first in their new home. He treasured them.

"It's a good exercise," Aracundo replied and smiled. He pointed to the seat across the chess board. "Why not try and learn? I can teach you."

Ereinion set down the piece again - not quite where it belonged but Aracundo was quick to fix that - and looked at him for a long time, without saying something.

"Why would you want to exercise in your free time? That doesn't make much sense. Free time is free time after all."

His logic didn't make much sense to Aracundo. Exercises were fun after all, especially when they had something to do with thinking and logic. What did Ereinion do when he had nothing to do? Did he just laze around in the midday sun and do nothing? Aracundo couldn't be able to do this. He would be overcome with the desire to do anything.

"It's also a lot of fun," Aracundo tried. "At least for me. But if His Highness isn't interested in learning I wouldn't blame him."

His attempt at getting out of a discussion before it began took an unexpected turn for him. Instead of nodding and turning away to go and laze around, Ereinion frowned, pulled back the chair on the other side of the table and took a seat.

"It isn't that I'm not interested," the prince stated, avoiding Aracundo's eyes. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "It's just that I've never played before…"

Aracundo beamed.

"Then I'll teach you!"

Ereinion blushed and nodded.

-

"You win every time…"

"I have more experience than you, Ereinion. When you have played some more and figured out a strategy I'm sure that you will be able to best me. You learn really quick after all."

Ereinion looked at him with skepticism but didn't say anything more. Aracundo wanted to laugh but didn't as he arranged the chess pieces once more in their starting position on the board. His new chess pieces - ones one of his distant uncles had brought with him from across the sea, originally meant for his mother who like him loved to play - too pretty and expensive for the old run down board they were using. Wood was rare these days. Aracundo didn't want to waste even a little bit on something trivial like this.

"Do you have time for another game?" he asked his friend with a smile. Ereinion nodded.

"As long as nothing comes up I should," he said. Both of them knew that something could come up at any moment, that these peaceful games were the most leisure Ereinion got these days. As High King and as General he had a stacked schedule and had to be ready for battle at all times. Aracundo on the other hand just like Tyelpë had been removed from all battle activities because of his Feanorian blood. No soldier from across the sea or native to Beleriand wanted to fight on the side of s Feanorian. It didn't bother Aracundo. He could work with the tacticians while Tyelpë repaired weapons and armour.

"Well then," Aracundo said as he finished rearranging the pieces. "Since you lost, you may begin."

Ereinion looked at the board thoughtfully. It was the sort of look he got when he was thinking about something that he was very serious about. Aunt Lalwen had said that he looked very much like his father when he did so but Aracundo couldn't testify this.

"How… about a bet," he said after a while, his gray eyes sparkling. Aracundo raised an eyebrow.

"A bet?"

"Yes a bet, not that I'm going to win it any time soon but if I win just one game you have to grant me a wish, no matter what."

The smile Ereinion gave him made Aracundo's poor heart skip a beat. A bet. Oh dear that could end one of two ways and Aracundo wasn't sure if he was ready for either.

"I won't humiliate you!" Ereinion added hastily. "It will be harmless I swear!"

"No swearing!" Aracundo said automatically, very serious and sincere. No swearing. That was a rule.

"But I mean it. I won't humiliate you, won't force you to do anything you don't want to. Promise."

Aracundo nodded.

"Alright…"

-

Throughout the war he didn't win a single time. For some reason though he didn't seem bothered by this at all anymore, instead any time he lost he seemed more and more eager for the next game. Aracundo could feel himself falling for this stubborn, stubborn man.

Oddly enough this made him anticipate the day the other one finally won even more.

-

The day he did win was some few years after the war. They were seated in one of the many gardens of the royal palace, on a blanket amidst the flowers Aracundo had planted himself. Their chess board was new, made and decorated by Ereinion himself, yet they weren't using the new pieces along with it. Ereinion had insisted that they use the old ones made by Tyelpë.

"Like when we were children."

Aracundo could not say no to him, not anymore. He had discovered quite a while ago that he couldn't deny the other man anything anymore, no matter how silly or trivial. Only a few days ago they had gone and collected seashells and lazed around on the beach the entire afternoon. Aracundo had forgotten what it was like to be without worry and as it seemed so had Ereinion.

Their chess games were a wonderful distraction. The only time either of them felt truly free from any duties. The only leisure time they allowed themselves, even though the bet was an ever present factor during their games.

The bet that was now over. Aracundo looked at his king, trapped and with no way of escape. He had lost. They had played this game consistently for nearly a century and a half and this was the first time Aracundo had lost. He couldn't be more proud.

He looked at his smiling friend.

"Congratulations!" he said and Ereinion nodded seriously but instead of demanding his price here and now he sat up and began to put the chess board and pieces out of the way, back into their chest, making room on the blanket in between them. He took his time but Aracundo could see how his hands were shaking with excitement.

Once finished he shifted a little, seemingly uncertain of what to say. That was new. Ereinion had never been someone who struggled with his words.

"You promised no humiliation," Aracundo reminded him. Ereinion nodded, his ears red.

"Not for you," he said, voice cracking.

"Why would you want to wish for something that would be humiliating for you?" Aracundo found himself asking.

"Because I know I would also like it very much. It's just that I don't know if you will like it the same way I would…"

Ereinion shifted a little closer, their noses touching.

"Because," he said. "I wish for this."

Aracundo's first kiss was not like how he had read about first kisses in those romance novels the Edian tended to write. There was too much nose, too little experience on both sides, the feeling of other lips on his was weird but it was the best possible outcome for this bet.

He felt like it was the perfect first kiss regardless.

-

He awoke when soft lips touched his earlobe. His mind had drifted away from the waking world too caught up in his thoughts. He slowly blinked away the fogginess that had settled in front of his eyes and was met with his husband's gentle smile.

"You should not wait for me, Aryo," he said quietly and kissed his brow. Aracundo made a small noise in protest. Of course he would wait for his husband. It was only fair… yet he had drifted off again instead of staying present and awake. A shame.

"Rest is important for you. Your mother was very clear when she ordered me to take care of you on our wedding day, you know? And if we're both being very honest with one another, I fear both her and your brother more than most things…"

Aracundo huffed a little and lifted his head from his papers. One of them stuck to his cheek but was swiftly removed by his husband's gentle hand. One more kiss was placed on his face, this time on his forehead.

"Are you coming to rest with me?" Aracundo asked. "Or do you have more meetings to attend?"

"In the morning again but for this night I'm all yours my dear."

He held out his hand for Aracundo to take and let him past the side table with their unfinished chess game and past the balcony where the two wine flukes were still waiting and past the normally closed doors into their shared bedroom.

Aracundo could only stand still as his husband lifted the circlet from his head and removed any ornaments, earrings, rings (save for their wedding band), bracelets and necklaces that he was obligated to wear because it was Noldorin tradition.

Aracundo had never really cared about Noldorin traditions that much, his mother being Telerin and him growing up being surrounded by mainly Sindar and Edain. But when he wore the small trinkets Ereinion had gifted him over the years of their courtship made his husband's eyes sparkle with happiness.

So he continued wearing them.

The small smile that graced his husband's features was worth any annoying tradition.

When they were done undressing and changing into simple light nightgowns they huddled together under the covers seeking each other's warmth and comfort. Aracundo buried his face in the other man's neck, breathing in the smell of ink and pine trees, while soft fingers combed through the long white strands of his hair.

"I'm exhausted," Ereinion proclaimed quietly. "Here I was thinking that ruling would be easier once the war is over and we all can return to a peaceful life. And yet.. yet they come and ask about taxes and land and legal privileges."

"You are doing great I'm sure," Aracundo replied and looked up at him. His husband smiled fondly but there was still a frown in between his brows. Aracundo was determined to make it go away.

"You think so, Aryo? Or are you just saying that so that I don't feel bad?"

"No, Ereinion, you're wonderful at organising and planning. You will most definitely find a way to make the people happy. It will just take some more time and effort. Tirion wasn't built in one day either "

He earned a kiss on his bare shoulder and one on his cheekbone for this, as well as a smile half hidden in the comfortable darkness of their room.

[atlas-tries]

Shatter Me

A Patton angst fic by yours truly

Read on AO3

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Summary: All the sides have secrets, but none have one as lethal as the one Patton is keeping. Can he keep it under wraps long enough to resolve it or will the trauma of it all spell his undoing? 

Hey guys, so this has been a long time in the making (aka since January). But I finally got this finished and I’m very proud of how it turned out. This was all based on a simple headcanon I had about how Patton experiences emotional pain. I hope you enjoy it, and the next chapter will be out next Monday! Check the notes for definitive links to the next chapter.

Chapter 1: Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones but Words Hurt Far More Deeply

At some point or another, all the sides had kept secrets from each other.

Mostly, it had to do with where they had been in the past or something silly, like the time Roman “accidentally” ate all of Logan’s Crofters. The others still kept some, likely to make a well-placed or dramatic reveal of it, and Patton was no different. He himself occasionally had physical manifestations of emotional pain. However, there was one thing he knew that wasn’t a secret.

Patton knew how they all really felt about him.

Sentimental.

Overbearing.

Naive.

Worthless.

Even if they rarely said any of those descriptors out loud or in his presence, the unspoken words came through loud and clear every time they thought he would mess something up. Which was in almost every video he appeared in. They thought he didn’t notice the dismissive remarks or the eye rolls whenever he had any ideas to share when Thomas had an issue that needed working through. It’s just ol’ Patton spouting off whatever random thoughts and/or dad jokes pop up in his head like always.

For the most part, Patton could handle whatever emotional turmoil they threw at him. He knew that despite what they thought, they still cared about him and valued his opinions. The occasional pain was worth it if they were happy. And they were, especially after Thomas had introduced them to his online community of Fanders (the part that made him the happiest). Even Patton himself had been ecstatic to reach out to so many other kiddos out there. At least, he was until they had gotten in front of the camera.

Yeah, his jokes didn’t land with the others, it wasn’t a big deal. That was no different than telling them in the Mindscape on most days. However, he really wanted to do that four-part harmony when Roman suggested it, even after they immediately shot it down when he came in. But Patton could shake that off, too. He was strong. So, imagine his surprise when he discovered short, thin cracks radiating from over his heart when he was changing into his cat onesie that evening. “Oh,” he said, running his hand delicately over them, “That must’ve gotten to me a little more than I thought.” No matter, though, they always went away within a few days.

Everything went back to relative normal in short order and Patton was back to being a happy pappy. The next few videos came and went without much fanfare. He was even featured by himself to help Thomas with his adultery! There was nothing better than that. The cracks didn’t return until just before they started planning out The Mind vs. The Heart.

That morning, Patton had been making breakfast for everyone as he almost always did. This morning was especially pleasant for him because Thomas had actually listened to Patton yesterday when he suggested he go and pet all the puppies in the pet store on the way home. Having that thought at the forefront made it easy to softly sing to himself as the bacon sizzled. Roman was already eating his as fast as he could fancifully manage.

“Roman, I know my food is good, but please don’t choke up on your swallow through,” Patton said with a smile, taking the last batch of bacon out of the pan and putting it on a plate. Roman just nodded and kept doing exactly what he was doing. “Say, you didn’t happen to see Logan when you came down, did you?” Patton was getting a little worried about Logan. It was early, yes, but the logical side always made his appearance long before now.

“Haben’t sheen ‘im thish morning,” Roman said with a mouthful of pancake.

Patton hummed, set his and Logan’s plates on the table, and grabbed some forks. He sat down at the table, picking at the eggs a little. He would feel better about eating when Logan came. As if on cue, soft squeaks came from the staircase. “Huh, speak of the devil,” Roman mumbled. Patton immediately perked up.

“Good morning, Logan!” Patton shouted. Logan stopped at the bottom of the stairs and covered his ears.

“Too loud, Pat,” Logan grumbled, making his way slowly to the table.

Patton softly replied, “Sorry. I made breakfast.” He couldn’t help but notice the dark circles beneath Logan’s eyes as he approached; they were almost dark enough to rival Anxiety’s. Patton was very much hoping that Roman wouldn’t notice, if only to preserve the peace (and the rest of his good mood, but Patton didn’t want that to be the focus).

“Thank you.” Logan sat and went straight for the coffee, downing half of it in only a few seconds. So far, so good. “Ugh, aren’t I a little old for cat-shaped pancakes, Patton?”

Patton shook his head with a smile. “You’re never too old to have a Patton paw-ncake!” he said cheerily, batting a pawed hand in the air for emphasis.

“Wow, looks like someone’s been to the dark sides this morning. Can we get a bag check on Logan’s eyes?” said Roman, going for another mouthful of bacon.

Logan wasn’t amused. “I’m sorry some of us have to work overtime to make Thomas make the right decisions,” he spat. “Sometimes it’s like I’m the only adult here.” Patton felt that familiar pain ghost across his chest.

“Ex-cuse me, how dare you say such a thing, and when Padre was nice enough to make you breakfast! And anyways, you are NOT the only one who has to pull late nights, Snide and Prejudiced,” Roman countered.

Patton said, “It’s fine, Roman, ple—”

“Really?” Logan adjusted his glasses. “Because it seems to me like you only keep Thomas up at ungodly hours fantasizing about the things you want.”

“Oh, and you don’t?”

“As the most important side, no, I don’t.”

“Oh well ex-cuuuuuuse me, Mr. President—”

From there it devolved into them shouting over each other. Roman slung eggs and syrup everywhere while wildly gesticulating. Logan kept smacking the table trying to make his points. Chocolate milk was going everywhere. They had never been so tense with each other.

“Um, kiddos?” Patton said. Neither of them heard him in the midst of their shouting match. “Kiddos?” he said a little louder, reaching out toward them. “Maybe if we just—”

“THIS DOESN’T CONCERN YOU, PATTON!” both of them yelled. Patton recoiled. Another crack split painfully across his chest. Both of them went back to screaming at each other. He couldn’t stand to see them like this, even if they were hurting him in the process. What else could he do but meet them at their level?

Patton stood abruptly and slammed his hands down on the table. “That’s ENOUGH, both of you!” he scolded. They instantly hushed, flustered and in awe that Patton could even raise his voice. He took a breath and calmly continued, “Roman, I appreciate you defending me like the noble Prince you are, but it’s okay. We know that Logan isn’t the only one that works the graveyard shift, but we shouldn’t make fun of the sides that do when they’re not in their best shape. And Logan, I know you’re tired, but—”

“Yes, from trying to mitigate the effects you had on Thomas yesterday,” Logan interrupted. “We almost adopted one of those puppies when we have neither the resources nor the time to look after one. And who was the one who had to convince him that it was a bad idea? Me!”

Even though Patton wasn’t sorry about that in the slightest, he still apologized. “You did the right thing, Logan. Why don’t you go back to bed for a little while? You’ve earned it,” Patton said. “I’ll even keep your breakfast warm for you.”

Logan nodded and left wordlessly, taking the coffee mug with him back up the stairs. With him gone, Patton looked to Roman. “You owe him an apology, mister,” said Patton.

“What? Me? He was the one being snippier than an Edward Scissorhands wannabe!” Roman cried.

“Well, you didn’t help that, now did you? But he also owes you an apology, too.” That garnered a little “oh” from the Prince. Patton sighed and took Logan’s plate to the oven, turning it on to the lowest setting.

“You know we would’ve worked it out on our own eventually, right?” Roman said. “This is just what we do.”

“I know,” Patton responded. “I think … I should start cleaning up. There’s chocolate milk everywhere.”

Roman nodded. “Okay, Padre. Is there … something I can help with, at least?” He got up and handed his mostly empty plate to Patton.

“Thanks, but I can handle it,” Patton said softly, voice barely above a whisper. He felt Roman’s hand on his shoulder and looked up at the Prince.

“You shouldn’t worry about us so much. We’ll be fine. And, uh, I promise I’ll make it up to the Grinch up there,” said Roman with a small smile.

We don’t need you smothering us.

Great! Now Patton’s thoughts were going to take it upon themselves to put translations after the other’s words! Patton tried to return a smile despite the pain in his chest growing. It must’ve convinced him because Roman, with a final pat on his shoulder, turned and left. As soon as Roman was completely out of sight, Patton rubbed at the cracks to try and soothe their aching. It never worked, but it made him feel a little less like a sad dad. Oh well. At least they’d disappear soon enough.

Or not.

A few days after Losing Motivation came out, Patton had once again busied himself in the kitchen, this time baking chocolate chip cookies while humming along to the Disney showtunes that Roman had playing in the living room. No doubt Thomas would have them stuck in his head by the end of the day. Not that it was a problem in Patton’s mind; the music really helped him ignore the constant throbbing pain that those ugly fractures left on his chest. Better to have Disney showtunes on the brain than a recent ex-boyfriend, right?

The oven timer let out a short ding! at the start of the chorus to Prince Ali. “Oh cookie, where would I be if you weren’t hooooot,” Patton sang over the lyrics. He danced over to the oven while putting on heart-patterned oven mitts. “So full of sweets from eating way more than I ouuuuggghhht. To.” He took the finished cookies out of the oven and twirled around to the music, kicking the door closed and sliding the baking sheet onto the stove in one smooth motion.

Patton made quick work of getting them off the baking sheet and onto a plate. “Cookies are ready!” he shouted. Quick, thundering steps met his cry and in seconds, Roman was in the kitchen juggling three.

“Don’t mind if I do, Pat,” said Roman. Fear never deterred Roman, not even when in the face of third degree mouth burns from oven-fresh cookies. Patton would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of his son for being so brave (even if another part of him was terrified of Roman getting hurt). “Hanksh,” he said with a mouthful of molten cookie, pretending that it wasn’t actually too hot but still doing the hashafashafa thing to cool it down while he ate.

“You’re welcome, son,” Patton replied. He looked at the cookies and remembered why he was making them in the first place. Ever since Anxiety had made himself known, Patton had been trying to reach out to him. Sure, he was dark and broody and sometimes the others had a little trouble seeing how important his contributions were, but he wasn’t the villain that they made him out to be. Anxiety deserved to feel welcome, and that was something Patton would always advocate for.

He set a few of the cookies on another plate for the rest of the sides (and himself) and poured a glass of milk. “Anxiety’s gonna love this!” He picked the cookies and milk up and danced them out of the kitchen, making sure to pass by Logan on the way. Not that it was hard, he was almost always studying at the dining room table. “Hey Logan, do you wanna eat a cookie?” Patton sung to the tune of Do You Wanna Build a Snowman?

Logan glanced up from his book. “I would prefer not to as I am attempting to set a good example for Thomas by abstaining from sugar,” Logan responded.

“Ah. Well, more for me and Anxiety, then!” said Patton. “If you change your mind, there are some more in the kitchen.”

Logan put the book down and said, “Hold on, are you telling me you’re still intent on making friends with him?”

“Well, yeah, what’s so bad about that?” Patton asked.

“I can’t believe I have to explain this to you again. Anxiety has no place with us, Patton, and it’s time that you stop pandering to him. There’s a very good reason why he lives with … them, and not us.”

The little fissures began slowly spreading. Patton was getting good at keeping it under wraps. And under shirts. “Now Logan, just because he’s a little different from us doesn’t mean that he has bad intentions. Sure, he started out in a bad place, but who’s to say that he can’t grow out of that? Sometimes, people just need a push in the right direction to shine. Bright like a diamond~,” Patton sang the last part, which earned him a groan. “I promise, if I felt fishy about any of this, I wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Why would you feel like a fish? Do fish even feel?” Logan said, genuinely perplexed.

Patton sighed. “Gosh, words can be tough. What I mean is that I don’t feel bad about reaching out to Anxiety, not when he’s been reaching out to us in his own way. I don’t get the feeling that he means us harm.”

“But you have to admit that when it comes to character judgement, you can be too forgiving,” Logan said.

“… Is that a bad thing?” Patton quietly replied, wincing a little as the cracks splintered further.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Patton, are you feeling alright?” he asked.

Oh, no.

“Of … course I am!” Patton said. “I’m Morality, why wouldn’t I be feeling?”

Logan grunted and adjusted his glasses. “Let me rephrase that. Patton, moments ago, you clearly indicated you were in pain. Am I interpreting this cue correctly?”

“Um …” Patton stalled. Maybe it was time to tell someone about this; it wasn’t like he could keep hiding it forever. With a sigh, he replied, “Yeah.” Oh no no no no, he couldn’t do this.

Logan stood there silently for a few moments before realizing that no explanation was going to come out of him without prompting. “Would you care to explain what’s causing it? I can perform first aid if necessary,” he said, stepping toward Patton.

Patton backed away and put his hands up. “I’m alright, really. It’s just … a little heartburn is all. You know me, not waiting until the cookies are cool to start munchin’! It should go away soon,” he replied. He couldn’t describe how badly he wanted to get out from under Logan’s scrutiny.

“If that’s all, then, here,” Logan conjured some Tums, “please take two of these.” He offered the bottle to Patton, who took it with a smile.

“Thank you, Logan, where would we be without you?” said Patton. He took some out of the bottle and made a show of chewing them up. Even if he didn’t really need them, he wanted to be sure that Logan felt listened to.

“What is that on your neck?” Logan asked, gesturing on himself where he thought he saw something.

“Hmm?” Patton felt around in that general area, squeaking softly when he felt a small but deep fracture across his skin. How did he not notice that before? Quick, Patton, think of something! “It’s uh … it’s chocolate!”

Logan’s eyes narrowed again. “Chocolate?”

Patton smiled. “Yeeeaahhhh, I must’ve gotten chocolate on myself when I was making these cookies. Silly me,” he lied, waving a dismissive hand. Well, it wasn’t totally a lie; he did still have some chocolate on his hands.

That seemed to sate the logical side. “Very well then, be sure to wash that off. And I know that no matter what I say, you’re still going to take your cookies to Anxiety. Just, please be careful around him, no matter how he makes you feel. We do still need you to help keep Thomas functioning normally,” said Logan.

“Thank you, Logan, I appreciate that. I promise I’ll be careful,” Patton said with a smile. Logan gave him a curt nod and went back to his studies. Some of the pain subsided with that last comment, which Patton was very grateful for. If it had been anywhere near what it was before, he couldn’t have done what he had set out to do without cuing Anxiety on to his problems. With as much of a smile as he could muster, Patton picked up the cookies and milk and headed down to Anxiety’s room. Thankfully, Logan didn’t notice him adjusting his cardigan along the way.

Patton always thought it was odd that the doorway to the darker side of Thomas’s mind would be inside the broom closet at the end of the hall. In another way, it made a lot of sense when he thought about it a little harder. Anything he wanted hidden would be stowed in here for safe keeping until he was ready to confront it. Plus, it made an excellent visual pun that made Patton giggle every once in a while. He opened the door, carefully balancing the plate on his arm.

“Let’s see, last time I made two rights, a left at the weird eyeball painting that stares at you, another right, then a left, and it’s the last door on the left,” Patton mumbled to himself as he walked through the dark side’s labyrinthine corridors. “Please let there be no spiders this time.”

In between the first two rights, a yellow-gloved hand slithered its way around the edge of the corner in front of Patton, making him stop dead in his tracks. No no no, not now! “Well well well, if it isn’t Morality,” Deceit stepped out in front of Patton, “have you finally decided to join us AND bring us cookies? I know we would all be devastated if you did.” His ever-present smirk seemed even more delighted than normal.

“Um, no. I’m just bringing Anxiety some cookies like I’ve been doing for a while now. You know that,” Patton replied. This definitely wasn’t making him uneasy.

“Indeed I do, and I also know something else.” Deceit strode forward until he was uncomfortably close. “You’ve been hiding something I find to be … most exquisite. If you keep that up, you’re liable to put me out of a job. Tell me, how long do you think you can play my game but keep me away from the field? Or even better,” he slowly circled Patton, eyes ever trained on him, “how long do you think you can keep their prying eyes away from your little secret?” He gently touched the center of Patton’s chest, which made him hiss and nearly drop the cookies and milk.

Patton had to take a moment to catch his breath. “I refuse to … make this their problem,” he gasped. He could’ve sworn he saw a few glowing drops of his essence through his shirt where Deceit’s finger had been.

“Oh, of course you don’t. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that one. They’re obviously trying to hurt you by saying and doing all of these little things and telling them this would only make them want to do it more,” Deceit said, coming to stop in front of Patton.

“Look, I know you’re just trying to look out for me in your … own way and I appreciate it, but please, Dee … I can’t tell them this. It would break them even more than it’s breaking me— and I won’t have it.”

Deceit’s smile faded. “You don’t want to listen to reason? Fine. But I leave you with this,” he shook a finger and slowly began sinking out, “what would hurt them more: the others finding out about this now or the others finding out about this when you’re in itty. Bitty. Pieces?” His last words echoed through the empty halls, chilling Patton to his core.

He knew Deceit was right, in his own roundabout way. That was one of his greatest assets: he was a brilliant analyst despite his airs, one that could keenly rival Logan’s perceptive inclinations. It was also what Patton dreaded about him. He couldn’t hide anything from Deceit, not that there was much he could do to hide all the cracks given how many there were.

“No!” Patton said to himself. This wasn’t the time for getting absorbed in thoughts! This was supposed to be bonding-with-his-precious-anxious-baby time, gosh darn it, and he was not going to waste any more time thinking about all the things that were hurting him! Putting on his best determined dad face, Patton quickly marched toward Anxiety’s room.

Before he could get too far, though, he saw Anxiety’s familiar, brooding figure lurking through the halls. He perked up almost imperceptibly when he saw Patton coming. “Oh, there you are. Not like I was worried about you being late or anything,” he said, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

Patton just smiled, relieved that Anxiety hadn’t noticed the little, slightly glowing stains on the front of his shirt. “Of course not. Shall we?” he replied. Anxiety nodded.

The two shared a nice, albeit short, time in Anxiety’s room talking through everything they could. Anxiety’s particular favorite seemed to be picking through Disney movies (or really any movie) to find all of the dark origins or morbid underlying themes they held. While Patton liked being able to spend time with Anxiety, the combination of being in his room for longer than around half an hour and the negative talk were lying heavily on his chest. Still, he never let it show that those cracks were slowly spider-webbing across his skin.

By the end of the day, every step was a Herculean task for Patton. He barely made it back to his room without stumbling. Still, there was one last thing to be done: survey the damage he had accrued. He trudged into the bathroom and grasped the sink with shaking arms, head hanging heavily. “Alright, head up on three, Patton. One, two, three,” he said, letting go of the sink and looking up in the mirror. Despite his weathered appearance, not much could be seen with his shirt still on aside from two small fractures that forked up either side of his neck. The few that had made it past his sleeves were so thin that he didn’t even notice them at first. Patton sighed. He really didn’t want to look at the epicenter of the damage. “Right after this, you can go to bed,” he bartered with his reflection. He gently lifted the hem of his shirt up and nearly fainted from what he saw.

The cracks at the center of Patton’s chest had turned more into chasms where his skin had chipped away like broken porcelain. His essence shone through, now a raging blue storm that threatened to break through the invisible barrier where his skin should be. From there, the light bled through into the smaller fissures that spanned his entire torso, front and back. He knew it was bad, but it had never been to this extent. He gently touched the edge of the center break and accidentally dipped his finger into the blue fluid. The tears he had repressed welled up in his eyes, spurred on by a jolt of raw emotion. Patton quickly wiped the fluid off onto his pants. The tears no longer had any driving force behind them.

“Oh Patton, you’ve got to remember not to do that,” he once again told his reflection. He had forgotten how much emotional sway his essence had when he touched it. Patton knew he couldn’t keep the happy act up like this. So, what else could he do but make himself as scarce as possible until it healed at least a little bit?

And that’s exactly what he did.

[my-happy-little-bean]

Blossom

pairings: logan/patton (logicality) (because im trash) words: 2776 warnings: swearing, panic attack, implied toxic parental relationship, mention of an implied suicide attempt, fighting summary: 

blos·som /ˈbläsəm/

verb - to produce flowers or masses of flowers. - to develop in a promising way

Or: the five times Logan couldn’t see the flowers, and the one time he did.

a/n- hello! i hope you are all doing well during this strange quaran-time! i present to you, my first non-golden slumbers flower-related fic (still logicality tho,,, y'all can rip that pairing out of my dead, cold hands :pp). i had a really strange dream last night that had something to do with this concept and hey, you know what i do with dreams :p

i hope you enjoy it ^v^

read on ao3~

---------

dedicated to the one bit of starlight that always remembers to water my garden 

~*~

1. 

Logan was halfway up the porch stairs when Patton mentioned the flowers for the first time. 

“I’m telling you, Lo!” Patton followed Logan into their new house, carrying boxes behind him. “They were little yellow daffodils, just sprouting behind you as you walked! It was so pretty!” 

“Patton, it takes twelve to fifteen weeks for daffodils to bloom after chilling,” Logan said pointedly, setting his own boxes down by an old, tattered couch in the living room. “Besides, even if there were some growing, I would be more concerned that there is something prompting growth underneath our house.”

Patton giggled, putting his boxes down beside Logan’s. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist from the back, going on the tips of his toes to kiss the back of his neck. 

“Our home,” he murmured in Logan’s skin. Logan smiled. 

“Yes,” he said, looking around at their surroundings. “It is...a start.”

“It’ll be more than that soon enough!” Patton chirped, taking Logan’s hand and spinning himself underneath it with a squeal. Logan couldn’t help smile, moving his arm more purposefully to properly spin Patton around until he was standing right in front of him. 

“I’m so happy,” Patton said with a sigh and that lopsided smile; the smile that proved to Logan that he could at least feel love. 

“I am happy that you are happy, dear.” He pressed his forehead against Patton’s and kissed his nose lightly. “Now, we must continue on, or we will be late to the neighbourhood barbeque Janene invited us to.”

“Janene?”

“Our neighbour, remember?” 

Patton made a small ‘ah’ noise and nodded enthusiastically, already skipping past Logan to grab some more boxes outside. 

As he watched him go, Logan sighed; he could definitely love. He could love with all of the love the world had to offer him, for as long as they were offering. He could love the softest, most gentle creature he knew; one who moved with such grace and one whose mind and heart and soul was overwhelmingly admirable.

Yes, he could love him. 

And he loved him. 

- 

“Logan! There’s pink roses on our roof!”

---------

2.

According to Janene, the whole neighbourhood could see the flowers. 

It was a special kind of phenomenon that no one outside the small town of Khloris ever noticed. But if you had a house on its terrain, you apparently had flowers growing underneath your feet. Upon mentioning Patton’s observations at the neighbourhood barbeque, Janene had explained the rumours that it was the land’s way of “observing” or “understanding” its habitants. Whatever that meant.

Logan found it borderline infuriating that no one had pursued further research on the matter; that people just walked around their neighbourhoods, complimenting each others’ seemingly magical gardens.

What was even more infuriating was that everyone just...accepted it. Embraced it, even. As if it was normal to hallucinate flowers growing on vines across your windows.

He was still unable to see these flowers, if they even existed. And while he wasn’t keen on keeping a sense of distrust between himself and his partner (he would have stopped playing along if Patton shared his same view) he couldn’t help but remain skeptical. 

(He would never admit it to Patton, but the reason he had purchased that rather expensive machine off of Amazon was so he could test the contents of the air in certain areas of the town. It didn’t prove anything abnormal, but it was an interesting experiment. 

He read his findings out loud to Patton one night, and Patton listened to every word.

And when Logan left for work the next morning, Patton complimented the chrysanthemums trailing behind him.)

Still, he didn’t have much choice other than to embrace the absurdity floating in their town. Besides, it was mostly harmless. And, more often than not, it served as the backdrop to some of the most joyful moments they had. 

- 

“Why, yellow!” Patton exclaimed as he greeted Logan on the steps to their house. “Someone has an extra poppy in their step today, huh?”

“First of all, I believe you mean ‘hello’; the standard greeting which is first exchanged between individuals seeing each other,” Logan hummed. Then, he leaned over to kiss Patton’s cheek. “Second of all...hello, dearest.”

“Hiya!” Patton giggled. Logan watched as the spot he kissed flushed a soft shade of pink. “How was work?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “It was...very satisfactory.”

“Very satisfactory?” Patton rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet, immediately ecstatic. “Not just satisfactory?”

“Mhm.”

“Ooh that and the yellow poppies behind you! You must have good news!” Patton beamed. “Come, come sit with me! Tell me all about your very satisfactory day!”

Usually, Logan would politely decline, telling him that he had to first shower and prepare dinner as he always did after work. And it was almost second-nature to ignore the ever-growing amount of flower observations from Patton. 

But he couldn’t help but oblige upon seeing Patton rush over to their small, wooden porch swing, nearly knocking into his ball of yarn and newest knitting project. That and he did have good news. Very good news, in fact. 

“Tell me about your day first,” Logan insisted as he sat down beside him, setting his briefcase at his feet. “I would rather celebrate a mutual achievement than selfishly intrude with my singular one.”

“Intrude?” Patton nudged him lightly. “Well, you’re not being int-rude if you do! So don’t worry about that kind of intrusion-confusion you’re on about, mister!”

“...did you eat the cookies Janene sent us?”

“Several.”   

Logan shook his head. “She puts too much chocolate in those, you know. And those pastries surpass the recommended amount of sugar one should digest in a day.”

“I know! ”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at how starry-eyed his Patton looked. Patton gently rocked the swing back and forth, then lifted his legs to sit cross-legged on the cushions once it gained enough momentum. 

“Anyway, my day was alright!” Patton chirped. “Had a breakthrough with a client today! It’s been a slow couple of weeks, but I think things are looking up!” 

“That is fantastic news, Patton.” Logan leaned his head against Patton’s shoulder, placing a hand on his thigh and smiling. “You’re doing an exceptional job.”

“Aw, Lo!” Patton giggled again. “You’re gonna make me grow peonies everywhere.”

Second-nature. Logan just chuckled.

“Now! We must celebrate you!” Patton lifted Logan’s head off his shoulder and held his hands into his own. “Tell me everything!”

A pause. Logan felt as if he too was holding his breath.

“Well, do you recall that promotion I recently inquired about at my work?”

Patton’s eyes widened. 

“Shut up.”

Logan broke into a wide grin, finally exhaling as he nodded. Patton squealed, practically lunging at Logan to give him a tight hug.

“Shut up shut up shut uppp!!!”

“Do you...actually want me to–”

“No!” Patton gasped, pulling back to hold Logan in front of him by his shoulders. His grin almost hurt to look at. “Never ever ever shut up!”

“Then why did you–”

“I’m excited, you goofball!” Patton brushed the hair out of Logan’s eyes with a small giggle. “Besides, if I’m shushing anything, it’s the guilty feeling in your head that I can hear from a mile away.

(Fuck. He could love him forever.)

“Be proud of yourself, silly.” Patton wrapped Logan into another hug. Despite being shaken around so much, Logan couldn’t help but laugh. “Gosh, you deserve this so so much– I’m so proud of you.”

Logan’s breath hitched. 

“You…” 

Patton drew himself back ever-so-slightly, leaving a mere inch between him and Logan. He smiled. 

“I’m always proud of you, Logan.” He kissed Logan’s nose, sending a rush of warmth throughout his entire being. 

He then looked down at the spaces between each wooden plank of the porch and smiled. 

“Peonies,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Logan’s. “I’m happy too, Lo. So so so happy.”

---------

3.

“Patton, take a deep breath.”

“He–” Patton gasped, wrapping his arms around himself– “how– I can’t–”

“Patton.” Logan took the phone out of Patton’s hand and held them, squeezing gently. “Patton, let’s sit down, please–”

“Don’t touch me!“ Patton sobbed, pulling his hands back and covering his mouth. Tears rolled down his cheeks and over his hands. He began backing away from Logan. “It’s– I’m a– I’m–”

“Patton–”

“Fuck,” Patton choked out, stumbling past Logan and heading in the direction of their backyard. “I can’t– I need–”

Logan just nodded, carefully catching up to him and clearing out as much clutter as he could so Patton wouldn’t get hurt. He slid open their backyard door for Patton to rush through. 

The cool, evening air hit Logan almost sharply, and he hoped that Patton could feel the same thing. He watched from a hesitant distance as Patton fell to his knees on their grass, folding into himself like a ball and clutching at each strand. 

(He doesn’t need you to make this worse.  "You don’t know how to feel, after all.”)

 “Hey,” Logan finally said. He walked over to the grass and sat a comfortable distance away from Patton. “Is this enough space?”

Patton didn’t lift his head, but he nodded. Logan sighed. 

“...What happens outside your workplace is not your responsibility.”

Patton let out a huge sob; one that felt like it echoed through the whole neighbourhood. 

Fuck. Logan cleared his throat.

“Tell me about the flowers,” he blurted out. Patton lifted his head slightly. 

“The–”

“The flowers,” Logan said again, even less sure of himself. “Tell me what they...what they look like to you right now.”

Patton let out a scratchy laugh. “You don’t believe in the stupid flowers.”

Logan’s heart broke. 

(He didn’t, but he believed in him.)

“Tell me about them anyway,” he said insistently. “I assume they are in our presence, no?”

Patton sighed and, after seemingly deliberating his offer, sat up; his hands firmly gripping the grass they were sitting on. He looked around him, all spacey in that way that used to scare Logan. (It still does, but he at least knows enough about it that it’s not as worrisome.)

Finally, he spoke up. 

“I– I see marigolds,” he whispered. “And– and yellow carnations.”

Logan closed his eyes in thought for a second and then opened them with a sigh. 

“My dear,” he whispered, scooting a bit closer to him. “It is normal to feel grief and disappointment. Those are common reactions to a tragic occurrence such as this. I am so deeply sorry that you have to experience this because you do not deserve this, my starlight.”

Patton curled even more into himself.

“But what is important is that he is still here,” Logan continued. “And I am going to be here to assist you with whatever you need in order for you to cope during this difficult time.”

He watched as Patton took a deep breath; the first one in hours. When he exhaled, he felt as if the air around him grew still and less frigid. 

“I already know with absolute certainty that I will witness you lift yourself up when we make it through this; stronger than you were ever before.” He moved closer to him again. “You did not fail, no – we are simply just trying again.”

A beat of silence. Patton sniffled. “T-There’s purple hyacinths now.”

Logan sadly smiled. A common one with Patton.

“You do not have to apologize.” He patted the space next to him. “I’m here. And so are you.”

Patton sobbed a bit more, but eventually smiled through his tears and curled up in Logan’s lap. Logan held Patton and leaned over to press a kiss in his hair. 

“I got you,” he murmured in his curls. He felt Patton settle into his lap, the tenseness in his shoulders loosening. He ran his hands through his hair, kissing it again and again every few seconds. 

“Forever?” He heard Patton mumble. He smiled. 

“And a little bit after that,” he whispered back. 

And they sat there for a while, underneath the starry skies above them, in what Logan assumed was a sea of yellow and purple flowers. Though, he was never really sure.

- 

Later on, Patton asked him how he knew what each flower meant. And Logan, who would never admit to researching floriography (or to any accomplishment at all), just said it was a coincidence.

---------

4.

Patton rarely got mad; but when he did, Logan could only assume there were petunias everywhere.

“You–”

“Patton, please, not today–”

“NO!” His voice bounced off the walls and hit Logan in the chest. He shut up immediately. “Just...please– please tell me you’re joking.”

Logan averted his glance. “...I had to speak with them.”

“With your parents?! “ Patton screamed. “Who– who haven’t even bothered to call you in the last, what, five years?! “

“Patton, I–”

“You promised you’d never talk to them again,” Patton hissed. “I thought we agreed that– that it’d be wrong to. Because they were miserable people– people who– who made you miserable.”

He stung more than any thorn ever could. Logan tried to imagine some growing through the floors, as if trying to sympathize with what he could be experiencing. Of course he was angry. What Logan did was stupid. And he didn’t even mention the outcome…

“They’re my parents, Patton,” he said instead. He tried to plant his feet to the floor firmly, but Patton’s pacing made him shrivel up where he stood. 

“They are not your parents,” Patton snapped. His breathing was sharp and quick. “Parents–  parents don’t just tell their kid that they don’t have the capacity to feel– parents don’t kick their kid out of their fucking house and– and abandon them and leave them to be fixed by someone else.”

Logan’s breath hitched. 

“I…” He tried not to let it hurt him, but seeing Patton also wince at his own words made him feel somewhat validated in his pain. Still, he stood his ground. 

“I did not ask you to fix me,” Logan whispered, just as sharply; as if to get him back. 

Stupid.

“Logan.” Patton’s voice was even more troubling when it was quiet. “How could you...”

“It’s true.” (Why was he still talking?!) “I didn’t need you to–”

But he never finished. 

Because that’s all it took for Patton to leave.

-

5.

Patton found Logan outside in their backyard, surrounded by roses.

Roses of every colour; yellow, pink, blue, black, and white. The grass underneath his feet was bright green– in fact, everything around him was bright. 

“L-Logan, what–”

And that was when he saw the ring.

“Patton.” It came out as a loud, choked sob. 

Patton took a shaky step towards Logan, who shakily got on one knee.

“What are you…”

To his surprise, Logan laughed. 

“We– we were never really good at appropriate timing, were we?” 

Patton covered his mouth with wide eyes.

“I called my parents,” Logan began shakily, “because I wanted to tell them that I was going to marry you.”

Patton’s breath hitched. 

“You were right,” he continued, wiping his eyes. “Parents don’t do any of the things you had mentioned a-and I know I broke that promise we made out of good intent but…” He sighed. “But they are my parents. And I wanted them to be part of this moment.”

He closed his eyes, almost shamefully.

“Ultimately, it was out of spite, wasn’t it?” He laughed quietly. “In the end, I just wanted to prove to them that I could.”

“C-Could what?”

Logan stood up from his place and smiled. “That I could feel.”

A wide grin spread across Patton’s face.

“Oh, Logan…” He sobbed, rushing over to hold Logan’s hands. He giggled as Logan’s glasses fogged up from him crying, and he reached over to take them off, opting to rest them lopsided on his head. Logan laughed again through his tears. 

“Patton,” he whispered, looking up in his eyes. “I feel everything with you. I– I feel perfect, unadulterated happiness and love when I am with you. I feel joy, I feel peace, I feel...I feel things that I didn’t even know exist– ”

He held Patton’s hands and took a deep breath.

“I feel everything for– for you.” Logan rested his forehead against Patton’s and broke into laughter as their tears fell to the ground. “I want to feel everything with you– the ups, the downs, everything– for the rest of my life.”

---------

1.

And as Patton kissed him, Logan watched as a rainbow of colours blossomed around their home.

[vindicatedvirgil]

science partners / intrulogical

...yeah idk what it is about this ship but i’m in love. also, remus is still stuck to me, please someone help? he’s really growing on me.

it’s a high school human AU! please enjoy

includes: high school Logan, high school Remus, science experiments, friends to lovers, it’s kind of super fluffy at the end

(masterlist)

“Remus Creative–”

“I’m a present!” Remus cackled, a bow on his head.

“Yes, very nice. Roman Creative?”

“Preseeeent~!” Roman sang out.

“Logan Crofters–”

“Here.” His head was down, and he was jotting in his worn-down notebook. He tuned out the rest of roll call, and was only faintly listening to the assignment the teacher was talking about.

“Ahem. Mr. Crofters?” The teacher was standing right in front of Logan. “Did you hear what I said about your project partner?”

“Uh…” Logan glanced around. “No, sorry.” The teacher just rolled their eyes and pointed to the student sitting next to Logan, who glanced to his left. It was Remus Creative, probably the most inappropriate and wacky student in Logan’s grade. “Um, can’t I… do this project on my own?” Remus made a mocking offended noise.

“Ugh, like I want to work with Mr. ‘I’m better than you because I’m a super smarty pants’ but teach here has already said that we’re working together, so put on your big boy pants and look at the assignment sheet with me,” He muttered, resting his chin on his hand, his tongue sticking out a little bit. The teacher wandered off, and Logan closed his notebook, glancing at the assignment sheet that was set down between the two boys.

“...we have to come up with our own physics experiment?” Logan asked. Remus fluttered his eyelashes, staring at Logan. 

“I have a few ideas for a physics assignment, cutie pie~”

“No. Nothing dirty, you snake.” Logan groaned, running a hand through his hair. Remus made that mock offended noise again.

“Excuse you, I am not a snake! Janus is the snake. I’m more of a stinky rat man, you know?” Remus laughed, then took out a pen and began writing potential ideas for experiments on the paper. Logan watched him scrawl a list of potential experiments, some typical, but a few of them were pretty out there. He was appalled at the fact that the pen wrote in sparkly silver ink, but ignored this.

“Isn’t something with solar panels… overdone a bit?” Logan asked, adjusting his glasses frames, then pointed to one item on the list. “Why does this just say bouncy balls?”

“It’s an experiment on height and linearity of bouncing balls,” Remus answered simply. “But if you think it’s too silly, whatever.”

“No, that’s actually… intriguing.” Logan responded. “We have to record our experiment for the presentations and log our results. We should find a space to film.”

“Not my house,” Remus muttered. “Unless you want to be around Roman.” Logan glanced over his shoulder at Remus’ twin, who was boasting about something. Logan shook his head.

“My apartment is kind of a mess, but my mom is always working, so it should be fine.” Remus looked deep in thought, but he just nodded. “We should get a variety of sizes of balls, so we have more data to go off of. I have carpet, tile, and hardwood, so we can test on surfaces as well.” Remus cackled.

“My balls are bouncy, I promise… and if you want, I have some hard wood for ya,” He grinned toothily, and Logan just rolled his eyes, ignoring the jokes. Well, what he hoped were jokes.

“There’s a dollar store by my apartment. We can do this after school today, and get it out of the way,” He explained. “We can meet out front once the day is done.”

-

Logan sighed, crossing his arms. Thirty minutes had already passed since the final bell rang, and Remus was nowhere to be found. This was why he hated working with others on projects; they couldn’t be depended on, not for anything. He decided to wait another fifteen minutes for his classmate, and if he didn’t show, he’d do the project on his own and tell the teacher that Remus bailed.

Logan was not so lucky. He was nearly tackled to the ground when someone hugged him from behind, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Lolo!” Remus’ cackle was jarring and it made Logan’s head spin. He peeled the other’s arms off of him and glared harshly at the pouting teen.

“You’re late,” he said. Remus shrugged. “And don’t call me Lolo. My name is Logan, and you will refer to me as that and only that.” He began walking off campus, and Remus skipped alongside him, humming.

“So, how far away is your house?” Remus asked, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulders again. The logical teen didn’t bother to push him off, but glared at him through his glasses. 

“It’s a fifteen minute walk to the dollar store and then a five minute walk from there to the apartment complex,” Logan explained. Remus frowned when he realized the direction they were walking in, towards the more low-income part of town, but he decided to say nothing. They walked in silence, which surprised Logan, until they got to the store. Remus grabbed a cart and wheeled himself down the aisles, giggling. “Remus, please, we need to locate the bouncing balls.”

“Oh, alright. You’re no fun,” Remus pouted, and the two located the area with them. They got several packets of various sizes, and Remus also grabbed a large bouncing ball, which he held by hugging it. Logan rolled his eyes, but a small smile formed on his lips when he realized that Remus looked like a small child when he held the giant ball. They checked out at the front, Remus insisting on paying for everything, which only amounted to about $10. Logan made a fuss, but secretly he was grateful, because he only had a few bucks left until his next payday, and would need to go to the grocery story soon.

Remus toddled along the sidewalk, still hugging the ball, while Logan walked beside him, the plastic bag in his hand holding the rest of the bouncing balls. When they got to the apartment complex, Remus followed Logan up a short flight of stairs and stood awkwardly as the smart kid dug his keys out of his pocket. He opened the door, allowing Remus to go in first, and went inside after. Remus set the ball down gently, glancing around.

The kitchen was small. There was no TV, just a futon with some blankets and pillows on it, a dining table covered in worn books and papers, and two closed doors, one leading to a bathroom and the other to the only bedroom. There were cardboard boxes littered everywhere, with clothes spilling out of them. Logan looked ashamed, but also remained quiet as he set his backpack down on the futon. He fumbled through his backpack to grab his worn notebook.

“...Logan, I–”

“Don’t. Let’s just get this over with,” was the only response he gave. He set up a chart to log height, trajectory, number of rebound bounces, size of ball, and floor type. “Should we start small or big?”

“Uh, big first.”

The two sat cross-legged on the floor in various areas of the room for the next few hours as Remus dropped the balls from a constant height and Logan logged the results. They had set up a perilous tower of books to keep Remus’ phone camera focused on the actions. It was mostly quiet except for the bouncing and the scratching of Logan’s pencil on paper, and he just hoped that Remus wasn’t uncomfortable. He knew that the Creative twins came from a rich family, and he wondered if the jokester had ever been in such a small and worn-down place.

As they were wrapping up their experimenting, Logan’s mother came home, eyes deep set in shadows and hair greasy and mangled. Remus said nothing as Logan explained that they were science partners, working on an assignment, and that he’d be starting their dinner very soon. She just nodded and excused herself to take a shower and a nap.

“What does your mother do for work?” Remus asked, breaking the awkward silence. Logan ran a hand through his hair.

“She’s a nurse during the day, and at night she works at a 24-hour café,” Logan explained. “Ever since my dad died, we’ve lived here. I’ve had to pick up a job as a tutor, and recently I started working at the café, too, to take a little bit of the pressure off of my mom.”

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Remus said gently, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Actually, I’m sorry about… everything. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have suggested someplace else, this is worse than Roman singing–”

“Shut up,” Logan’s voice was wavering. “This isn’t worse. This is my fucking life, Remus, and I’m not ashamed of it. Don’t pity me.” Remus looked down at his feet, ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I just…” he sighed. “You deserve better. Everyone in school always makes fun of you for being smart and wearing those dorky clothes. You deserve a better science partner than me, that’s for damn sure.” Logan started to say something but was interrupted by his mom coming out from her bedroom.

“Remus, are you staying for dinner? Logan always makes the most delicious dinners, even though we don’t have much,” She said, sitting on one of the chairs at the table.

“Um, thank you, but I should… probably head home,” Remus didn’t meet her eyes. She frowned and gave a look to Logan, who just nodded. She went back to her room while Logan stood up, heading towards the small kitchenette. Remus watched him carefully. “So… you cook?” Logan smiled, getting the ingredients for his simple soup out from the fridge and pantry.

“My dad was a chef. He taught me everything I know about food, so… yeah, I make all of the food,” He replied. Remus went to join him in the kitchen, and studied Logan’s movements as he cut the vegetables up and put them in the soup pot. “You should stay. So that after, we can accumulate our data and write the report.”

“I don’t want to take what little food you have, though…” Remus’ voice was serious, and it startled Logan, who just shook his head.

“Please don’t worry about that,” he took a deep breath. “I’d… like you to stay. You’re my science partner after all.” Remus sighed, and nodded.

“How can I help?”

-

“This was so tasty, baby. Thank you,” Logan’s mom kissed the top of his head. “I’ve gotta head out to the café now, don’t stay up too late alright? And make sure Remus here gets home safely.”

“I will, Mama,” Logan said. He closed her thermos that he had filled with coffee and handed it to her. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She waved and smiled at Remus and then left the two in the apartment. Remus cleared the dishes from the table and began cleaning them, without saying anything. Logan just helped to dry and put away the dishes, and when their hands met he almost dropped a glass, but he caught it, the red blush coating his face.

“You’re kind of like Wolverine,” Remus said, breaking the silence. “Other than the fact that your name is Logan. You’re strong, and you’ve been through a lot, you’re kinda sexy…” He turned off the water. “You’re like… nerdy wolverine.”

“I don’t know about that–”

Remus didn’t let him argue. He grabbed Logan’s hands which were still holding a bowl and a towel and kissed him, startling the nerdy boy. Logan stumbled back, almost dropping the bowl but he set it down gently, his face bright red and a startled look on his face.

“Don’t! Don’t pity me–”

“Logan–”

“Get out!” Logan threw the towel at Remus’ face. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing–”

“Logan, I’ve had a major crush on you for two years,” Remus said plainly. Logan blinked, a confused look replacing his angry face. “The way you get all excited about science and facts? At the astronomy lesson last month you had this ‘lost in the stars’ expression the whole time. So… I requested to have you be my science partner for this assignment. I wasn’t going to do or say anything but… I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve never liked anyone before, so I don’t know if I can just…”

“It’s okay,” Remus looked down. “I’ll go home. I’m really sorry, Logan. I’ll take the data and write it up, okay? You don’t need to worry.” He started to turn away, but Logan gripped his wrist.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want to, Remus,” he clarified, then sighed. “I just… I’ll need a little bit of time, okay?”

-

The bell above the door jingled as Remus stepped into the small café. He didn’t immediately see Logan, but he sat down at his usual booth, setting his backpack down next to him. Logan’s mom bounded over, a smile on her face.

“Morning, Remus,” she said, pouring some coffee into the mug in front of him. “Lo’s on dish washing duty today, but I’ll let him know you’re here, okay?”

“Thanks, Mrs. C,” Remus smiled up at her. He pulled a book out of his backpack and began reading, taking occasional sips of his coffee. After about five minutes, Logan’s mom brought over his usual sunny side up egg with some hash browns.

“Another book on reptiles, Remus?” She asked, settling into the booth across from him. “You two really are very similar.” Remus smiled, dog-tagging the page he was on and setting the book down.  He coated his entire plate with ketchup and took a bite.

“Did you know that snakes and lizards use their tongues to smell the things around them?” Remus asked, and she just giggled, sticking her tongue out. He did too, and laughed. She got up after that, doing her rounds, and he settled in deeper to the cushion.

It had been two months since the science experiment. Remus spent all of his Saturdays in the café while Logan was working. He did his homework, read books, and got to know Logan’s mom, who was quirky and silly despite her constant exhaustion. Logan was still hesitant around Remus, though, and he didn’t want to push anything. When they saw each other, Remus would just kiss the smart boy’s cheek. They hadn’t kissed again.

But they spent a lot of time together, and Remus hoped that some progress was being made. They’d study together in Logan’s apartment after school on Logan’s days off, and sometimes Logan would just rest his head on Remus’ shoulder because he was so tired. On Sundays, Logan would go over to Remus’ house, since Remus had a lot of fancy science equipment they could use together.

Every once in a while, Roman would ask what was going on between the two, but Remus would just shrug and say they were friends. He hoped that someday, he could say they were more.

“Hey,” Logan’s clear voice brought Remus out of his deep thoughts. He glanced up at Logan, who slid into the seat across from him, a plate of toast with jam on them in hand. Remus gave him a sweet smile, resting his chin on his hand.

“Hi, Lolo,” he said. “Are you on your break right now?”

“Yeah,” was Logan’s only response as he took a bite of one of the pieces of toast. Remus took a bite of his food as well, and they ate in comfortable silence until Remus felt a foot brush against his own. He raised an eyebrow at Logan, whose face was bright red.

“What’s up?” He asked, setting his fork down with a slight clang. Logan said nothing and kept eating his toast, but with his spare hand he took a folded note out of his pocket and slid it across the table. Remus gave him a confused glance but picked it up, unfolding the paper.

Remus,

There’s a documentary about eels playing at the dollar theater tomorrow. Wanna go?

-Logan

Remus giggled a little, holding back his desire to make an eel-in-his-pants joke. “Yeah, of course, Lolo. Why couldn’t you just ask?” Logan looked down, his face still bright red, and scarfed down the rest of his toast. He took a sip of Remus’ coffee, then cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of nerve wracking asking someone out on a date, okay?” Logan admitted. Remus must have looked startled, because a wave of panic crossed Logan’s face. “I-if you don’t want it to be a date–”

“No, I do, Lo, I just… I’m surprised, is all,” Remus said, giving Logan a bright smile. “I just don’t want you to rush into feeling ready for that…”

“...I’m… ready for that, Remus,” Logan said, looking down again. Remus nudged his foot again, and the two sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of Logan’s break.

-

“...you’re wearing a suit,” Logan muttered, eyeing Remus up and down. He had just opened the apartment door. “Why, exactly, are you doing that?” Remus shrugged, looking down at his own attire. It was a dark green suit.

“It’s our first date, so… yeah.” He blushed a little. “You look nice, Lo. As always.” Logan adjusted his tie, but felt like his polo shirt just wasn’t cutting it anymore. He always wore this, he figured Remus would show up in his usual torn jeans and tank top and leather jacket but no, he just had to show up looking all dapper and smelling like something he’d gotten a whiff of from a magazine once.

“Hang on,” Logan shut the door quickly, leaving a startled Remus on the other side of the door. He frowned a little, but didn’t move from his spot. Logan ran into his mom’s bedroom and flung open the closet, digging until he got to the box of his dad’s old clothes.

When he opened the door again, Remus’ jaw dropped. Logan was in a tweed jacket. LOGAN. WAS. IN. A. TWEED. JACKET. And he had changed out of his jeans into some nice dress pants and from his polo shirt to a button-down. He wore the same tie, but, god, Remus could have tackled him then.

“Lo, you look… fucking beautiful,” He smiled, pulling Logan in for a hug. His lips brushed Logan’s warm cheek, and Logan reached up to wrap his arms around the taller teen. Their lips met briefly, and Remus swore he could sprout wings and fly into the sky. “Okay, seriously though, we should go before I rip that jacket right off of you.” Logan blushed and stepped outside with Remus, then closed and locked the apartment door. Remus laced their fingers together as they walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

-

Logan insisted on buying the tickets for the film since he was the one who had initiated the date, but Remus wouldn’t let him pay for their popcorn and icee. They settled into their seats, the theater almost completely empty save for a few older folks near the middle of the theater. Logan’s leg bounced up and down, and Remus settled a hand on his thigh.

“Sorry, Remus. I’m just… nervous? I don’t know why, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen a movie, but–” He cut himself off, looking down.

“It’s okay, Lo. I’m nervous too. I don’t want to mess this up,” He kept his hand on Logan’s thigh as the lights dimmed and the film started. Logan put the drink holder between them up and leaned into Remus a little. In response, Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer.

They each made little comments throughout the film, but Logan was almost completely enthralled by the smell of Remus’ cologne, and Remus could barely breathe with the way that Logan was pressed up against him. Once the film was over, Remus insisted on walking Logan home, and once again their fingers were laced together as they walked as close together as possible under the flickering streetlights and moonlight.

As they got back to Logan’s apartment, his mother was leaving for her shift at the café. She gave them each a kiss on the cheek as she left, and then the two stood awkwardly in front of the door to the apartment. Logan rubbed the back of his neck.

“You… um… you wanna come inside for a few minutes?” He asked hesitantly. Remus glanced down, but nodded, so the two entered the apartment. They sat on the futon, barely touching, and Logan sighed. “I… I’m sorry. I just feel all tingly when I’m around you, Remus. It’s a good tingly, but… I don’t know how to cope with it.” Remus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and scooted closer to Logan, his hand once again finding a comfortable space on the nerd’s thigh and his arm wrapping around the padded shoulders of the tweed jacket.

“Tingly is good. I don’t want to push you too much, okay? If I’m doing something you don’t like, please tell me. You mean a lot to me, Lo,” Remus said before kissing Logan deeply. Logan kissed back, enthusiastically pressing himself against the larger man, a hand tangling in his hair. Logan’s other hand trailed under Remus’ jacket coat, making him shiver and pull back. “Lo, seriously, you don’t need to do anything you’re not ready for–”

“Remus, just shut up and kiss me more, okay?” Logan tried kissing him again but Remus stayed out of his reach.

“If we’re going to go any farther we need to discuss it first, please,” Remus’ eyes were pleading, and it took Logan by complete surprise. He figured that Remus would be ecstatic to take things to the next level physically, considering all of the jokes and hints he thought he had been given over the past few months.

“I… I think this is what I want, but how do you know when you’re ready?” Logan asked. Remus took his hands gently and brought them up to kiss each knuckle.

“I’m not so sure myself, Lo. I’ve never… had someone like you. I’ve never done anything,” He admitted, which honestly surprised Logan, and it was evident on his face. “I did say I’ve had a crush on you for years, didn’t I? I could never be with someone else, no matter how tempted I was.”

“...I haven’t either. But I feel like… I could with you. Maybe not today. But… someday?” Logan’s voice was small. Remus smiled and placed a hand on his cheek.

“I like the idea of someday, Lo,” He said, leaning in to kiss him gently. “It’ll be like a science experiment. As time goes by, we might get more and more comfortable but we will have to test the boundaries. We might get things wrong, but… eventually we will figure it out.” Logan smiled, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder. “Until then, we can take things at a snail’s pace.”

“Did you know that some aquatic snails have lungs?”

“No, but did you know that snail mucus could be good for your skin?”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 101

Apologies for the delays....I scheduled this 3 weeks ago to post today, but apparently technical difficulties have occurred.  So.  Shout out to @baelpenrose and @zommbiebro who blew up my PMs when the chapter did not go up at the regularly scheduled time.  Y’all saved me, I swear.

As always, after an arc, we get... FLUFF! Please enjoy!

“Are you sure you want to do vegetarian hot pot?” Zach wheedled.  It was a week after Jokul’s meeting with the Council, and while there was still some work to be done with some straggling members of the accidental cult, things had largely calmed down.  As such, I was taking Huynh’s suggestion and eating in one of the mess areas closer to my office.

 “I may do one veg and one non-veg.” I bit my lip as I thought about it. We were discussing an upcoming ‘family dinner’, where I had decided to branch out into unfamiliar territory. No date for it was set in stone, but I wanted to make sure to get all the details ironed out ahead of time. “Vegetarian just feels safer, if that makes sense? I feel a bit weird about including raw meat - I mean, what if the broth isn’t hot enough and someone gets food poisoning.”

Zach gaped at me, but Hannah cut him off by reaching gently for my hand. “Sophia. You know as well as I do that everything from the food consoles is synthetic, including the meat.  So, technically, it’s all vegetarian and there’s no risk of foodborne illness.” Her tone was pleasant and even, and I was in no way oblivious to the fact that she was using her professional nurturer skills on me.

That did not change the fact that she had a point. “Fine,” I heaved a sigh in concession. “I still want them kept strictly separate, to avoid violating any religious taboos. I can still do that,” I insisted.

Hannah patted my hand in reassurance just as Zach’s head snapped around toward the entrance. “What in the world?” he asked, no longer paying attention. 

As Hannah and I turned where he was focused, I noticed a few other people looking that direction with the same curious expression Zach had. I glanced at Hannah, who shook her head - she didn’t hear anything either, at first. After another minute, I could faintly hear shouting, and it got louder as it headed our direction.

By this point, more and more people in the cafeteria were staring toward the shouts, which were soon accompanied by the white noise of a crowd speaking.  Whatever was happening had been going on for quite some time, and was going to pass directly past us. I swear on all that is unholy, I thought to myself, If this is another crisis, I will walk out an airlock willingly.  No sooner had the thought finished than I saw a vaguely familiar face coming around the curve of the corridor.  Standing and abandoning my lunch, I moved closer to confirm my suspicions.

Sure enough, a familiar smile bracketed in a thick, coarse beard beamed at me.  Ivan Thorson was slightly shorter than I was, but at least as broad as he was tall and also cheerful carrying what appeared to be a stack of dark gray cloth.  Horror dawned as he approached.

That stack of cloth was squirming. And kicking. And shouting.  Even worse, I recognized that voice.  Part of me wished I had just ignored everything and finished my lunch.

“Hey, Ivan,” I ventured carefully. “I would love to know - “

“Put me down! This is entirely undignified. How DARE you!”

“ - why you are abducting Mr. Bjornson here?” I finished.

“Hey, Sophia!” Ivan replied, completely ignoring the squirm of the much taller man he was currently carrying over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “I was just - “

“Councillor Reid! Thank the gods…” The squirming intensified.

Ivan just calmly repositioned his - passenger? Victim? - before continuing. “Down at BioLab 2, talking to Nixe - “

“UNHAND ME!”

“ - when I saw the most interesting ball of tension I had ever met. So, being me, I decided I had to meet this man.”

“Sophia. Please. Help me!”

“Oh, hey Ivan,” Zach greeted, completely unperturbed by the insanity of the situation. Hannah smiled brightly and waved.

“Hey guys. So, as I was saying, I introduced myself, we started talking, one thing led to another - “

“How did ANY of that lead to - to THIS!?”

Finally, Ivan seemed to hear Jokul. Frowning, he turned toward the hip currently slung over his shoulder. “So, you didn’t mean it when you said I was aesthetically pleasing?”

“Well, I did, but - “

“Or was it the part about finding me charming?”

“No, I meant that, that’s not what I’m saying - “

“Then it was the part about wanting to get to know me better?”

I had to clench my jaw to keep from dropping it, mostly because I wasn’t sure if I would laugh or scream at Jokul’s response. He was downright soft. “Ivan, I did mean that. I do mean it. I just… I meant coffee. Or - or dinner. Not - “ A hand gestured blindly. “Whatever this is.”

“You said your feet were hurting,” Ivan pointed out before turning to me, Zach, and Hannah. “He decided to walk all the way from the Archives to BioLab 2.” Reaching around in a way that actually looked uncomfortable, he patted Jokul on the back, carefully avoiding anything further down. “Good thing he’s so pretty.”

“I…” Jokul started before trailing off, at a loss for words when confronted with the strange but undeniable logic of a man a full foot shorter than him but who was also carrying him like he weighed about the same as Mac.

I, however, was not equally speechless. “Why not take him to his own quarters, then?”

Ivan looked at me like I was being silly. “BioLab 2 is on Level Two. Jokul’s quarters are on Level Forty. Mine are on Level Twenty One. Much closer.”

“You could have gotten a transport, Ivan.”

Despite carrying well over two hundred pounds of former cult leader over his shoulder, he still managed to shrug. “It was a gym day, anyway. This does double duty.”

“Ivan - “ I started before being interrupted.

To my astonishment, Jokul stood up, brushed his hair out of his face, and faced me squarely with his hands on his hips. “If you don’t mind, blood is rushing to my head and making me dizzy. Can we please get on with this? I was promised French-pressed coffee, ginger cookies, and a foot rub.”

With quiet laughter, Ivan grabbed Jokul and tossed the taller man back over his shoulder.  All I could do was sputter with the knowledge that I had drastically misread the situation.

Realizing he won the argument, Ivan threw a wink at me before patting Jokul’s leg. “Just a bit further.  You all have a lovely lunch, I have someone to make coffee for.” With a cheeky wave, he marched on.

Just as he passed, I could see a very confused former warlord and accidental cult leader, arms crossed and indignant, but nonetheless quietly enduring his journey.  Leaning toward Zach, I murmured. “Is Jokul… safe?”

“Yeah, safe as he can be on the Ark,” he shrugged in reply.

“You’re sure?”

He snorted at that. “If you’re worried about Bjornson’s virtue, it’s as safe as he wants it to be, I promise. Ivan takes pride in the fact that he is very charming, and you would not believe the number of dates he gets because he takes anything less than a direct invitation as ‘no’.” He rolled his eyes.

Where I had originally been worried that the indomitably-pleasant Ivan was taking… something… out on Jokul, the other man’s scolding assured me that his squawks and shouts were only for show.

“Clearly, he could have stood up whenever he wanted.  Or even accidentally,” Hannah pointed out. 

“So why didn’t he?” I was so confused.  Admittedly, my mind kept going back to Jokul’s cries for help, even knowing they were for show.

Zach started coughing and turned bright red.  Hannah patted his back and smiled at me. “I think you should probably ask Charly that question.”

“Why - oh. Oh……” Now, I was turning bright red. With a cough, I turned and strode back toward the table where our lunches were cooling. “So, hot pot,” I most certainly did not squeak. “What meat goes in hot pot? We decided one veg and one non-veg, right?”

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