#and by jove i’m gonna do it again

[dahlia-pi]

gods if dahlia integrates it’s gonna be so bad it’s gonna be so so bad gods i just want things to go back to how they were i love my cece i really really really do he’s amazing and i love him but gods it was so much easier before i fucked everything up n i know i deserve to have my life be awful but still i want things to be how they were i don’t want things to keep changing and i know i’m just gonna hurt my cece because that’s what i do i hurt people and i just- i don’t wanna go back to jove’s cecil because that was a whole goddamn disaster and he doesn’t love me anymore but i’m literally fucking programmed to still love him “no matter what” and it won’t fucking go away even though it fucking should’ve by now but no the system fucking hates me and won’t let me move the fuck on i’ve tried so fucking hard and i love my cece i love him so much but there’s always a stupid fucking part of me that won’t move on and that part of me’s what’s gonna make me ruin my own goddamn life again i know it i know it

[blue-dream-rhapsody]

Update (once again with SoJ spoilers)

I am LOVING Turnabout Revolution. We’re on the very first trial day at this point and let’s see:

Apollo being so adamantly dismissive of Dhurke meanwhile Dhurke doing his best Zak Gramarye impression if Zak had actually gone to see his child. But so clearly. So clearly still seeing Apollo as his son.

The fact Apollo and Trucy now have being adopted kids to bond over and Trucy very clearly wants to but Apollo is just too Nope about it right now, poor Trucy

Her calling Dhurke “Dad” in about the time it took her to call Phoenix “Daddy” is really funny but Phoenix. Phoenix you need to tell them.

The whole Thalassa timeline is becoming very confusing now but I think I’m getting it, both of Apollo’s parents being musicians (at some point) though. Also wondering if traces of Jove were why Thalassa began singing when she lost her memory, if some part of his music was still in her mind and that led her to singing

The fact we have the option to say “No” to helping Dhurke and it feels like the right choice based on how Apollo seems to be feeling, I kind of love that

Me seeing the statue and urn and especially the scroll in the guy’s office: Imagine Phoenix walks in here, sees the fucking gravy scroll on the wall and has an immediate trauma response, turns around and walks right back out

Also me finding out Edgeworth is poking around Kurain: LET ME SEE MY BOY

Athena never made it to picking up Phoenix and we were making callbacks to “Pearl is 9 she can take care of herself”

Shitty painting of a scene relevant to a crime scene: please don’t be Larry please don’t be Larry OH MY GOD PEARL!!! HOW ARE YOU!!!

Okay the fucking. The fucking cave. Fucking. Ace Attorney made me cry in the fucking cave. Dhurke said he’d come back for me and he never did and all these years I’ve felt that betrayal like a knife in my neck and now I’m drowning and oh? Dad? You came back for me?

Less dramatic the sass on Apollo regarding the box was killing me though “not that I’d need to zoom in with this AMAZING lighting”

But god am I gonna like Nahyuta at the end of this god damn it

Apollo has had the two worst witnesses/I assume culprits in the series’ history and both in the same game (Reus and Atishon-Wimperson) give my boy a BREAK (and I mean worst in the sense of like. Insufferable assholes. Not that they’re bad at being witnesses/I assume culprits)

I know it’s not really personal but Phoenix triggering my rejection sensitivity by proxy also Dhurke has said more nice things about Apollo in the three hours he’s been here than Phoenix has said to him over all three AJ games and it’s about TIME

I don’t remember exactly what was said but it was something about all Defense Attorneys being troubled and I was like Um??? I think every Prosecutor we’ve dealt with has been severely troubled and we are DIRECTLY responsible for triggering Klavier’s, hitherto the most normal one

Turning Phoenix’s themes into “this is bad for me actually” music stings because he’s your opponent is crazy. It was kind of a matter of time before we faced off with Phoenix in some capacity but I still kind of love that they’re doing it like this. Still wanna strangle him

Although loving the petty from the outside. “Yes Mr A-W we’re all very familiar with how great you are please continue your fucking testimony”

Also the fact he keeps being like “BUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR THE DEAD HE WAS VERY CAREFUL IN RESTORING THE PRECIOUS STOLEN ARTIFACT”

Phoenix: “When have I ever come unprepared to a trial?” (insert that image of SpongeBob gesturing at the overwhelming pile of diapers outside his house)

“While you were on your little cave adventure—” I NEARLY DROWNED MR WRIGHT.

Finest Italian plastic

That’s about as far as we got. This might approach Bridge for favorite if it keeps going like this. Which given the ways it’s calling back to it even if just to me I guess makes sense

My mom realizing who the client was for the first day of the DD special episode was priceless

(Assorted thoughts with whole game Dual Destinies and Spirit of Justice spoilers under the cut)

Of course, we finished the main story DD cases before playing it so I had to kind of check myself with Fulbright and Blackquill not being fully explored chronologically. But it being Phoenix’s first trial after getting his badge back was just so good because of course an orca would be his client

In all I really enjoyed the case, I think she did too. I kinda liked that it ended with it all having been an accident (apart from the cover-up). She also definitely lost her shit again when it came down to “you loved ‘we’re gonna defend the orca in court’ now get ready for ‘time to cross-examine the orca in court’”

In all DD was fine, but not my favorite of the games

ONTO SPIRIT OF JUSTICE SPOILERS

Ahlbi feels like he could be a weirdgirl sidekick if only given the chance, we spend comparatively little time with him but I’ve found him endearing the same way I have found all the weirdgirls endearing

My mom was horrified Gaspen was the first prosecutor and meanwhile I was cackling that this man fled to a different country and spent months garnering a glowing reputation only for the man who humiliated him to show up and do so AGAIN on his new turf

“What are you going to cross-examine the dog now??” “Maybe I will, don’t threaten me with a good time”

Also we love Klavier so we kept shittalking Peeslubn as an inferior musician

Across multiple cases again and again we’ll either verbatim say the next line Phoenix says or get into thinking about the mystery and end up getting right to the next thing that comes up and I think we’re becoming the Ace Attorney

Speaking of predicting the next thing that will happen in these games—

My mom (after asking about Gumshoe and being told he’s probably not there): Will Ema be in this game?

Me: I dunno (vaguely remembering seeing her rendered in 3D so assuming so but not wanting to say anything)

Ema: (literally shows up three seconds later)

For magical turnabout though um

Nobody told me about in the recording Trucy’s smile slipping for just a moment as she realizes what she’s looking at then “entertainers should always have a smile on their face” kicks in and you see it happen in real time

Also Apollo Perceiving on her for the first time and her starting to cry in front of her brother who she doesn’t know is her brother but Phoenix ended AJAA saying he’s the only one who knows how she really feels on the inside (terrible) and something about more of her family knowing her real pain and god dammit

Rite of Turnabout was frustrating but Maya was there so I forgive it for its sins

Turnabout Storyteller though?? How fun was that shit??? Simon shot up to my second favorite prosecutor and seeing Nahyuta flustered was very cathartic, I really do appreciate one-day trials sometimes for just getting it done

We’re just starting the last main case and I can’t wait for whatever’s gonna happen

[teawaffles]

The Adventures of John: Chapter 4, Part 2

TW // Mention of abuse

Also, a note for language.

Without even an opportunity for Laura to resist, Sherlock pulled his hand out — and revealed a gorgeous necklace. It wasn’t as if John could remember that necklace itself, but from its elegant sparkle, he judged that it’d been one of the items from their flat.

The despair on Laura’s face only deepened. Beside her, the detective spoke.

“This was stolen from my flat. Since the jewellery was in such a mess, you probably thought it wouldn’t look amiss if just one piece went missing — but that was naive of you,” he said. “Because I have a full grasp of everything that was put there.”

When Laura arrived at their flat, Sherlock had made a show of being indifferent to her request, while making sure that she had taken one of the stolen goods.

To have fully comprehended that chaos — John marvelled at the strength of Sherlock’s memory. During the conversation in the flat, he had persisted in looking out the window, away from Laura: that must’ve been to create a deliberate opening, and test if the girl would help herself to the pile.

Laura had stolen a piece of jewellery from their apartment. Moreover, she’d made up the request to find Dolly. Inevitably, from the two points above, it followed that her goal from the start had been to steal the jewellery. Hence, it formed definite proof that she was one of the thieves’ accomplices.

Confronted by that irreversible reality, Laura was stunned. As for the man, his eyes went bloodshot from anger.

“Y-You’ve gotta be kidding me, you good-for-nothing……. I told you to do it without exposing us—”

Hearing that, Sherlock piped up in a cool voice.

“Shall I take that as a confession? Though, there is still the argument that this kid Laura here is just another one of you vagrants, and you guys have nothing to do with the ring of thieves.”

The man spat on the ground.

“Hmph, I’ve no interest flogging that argument anymore. ——Let’s settle this the fast way.”

Saying that, he drew a small revolver from his pocket, and levelled it at Sherlock. Following suit, a few men among the group also whipped out knives and guns. The remaining crowd cried out softly in fear.

“If we dispatch the both of you right here, the truth’ll remain buried, eh?”

At that unsettling line, his armed accomplices also broke into twisted smiles.

But despite being held at gunpoint, Sherlock seemed particularly unmoved. He observed their actions, and narrated his own view.

“From the looks of it, you lot are the ringleaders, while the rest seem to have been threatened into compliance.”

“Yeah: with just a little bit of a beating, they’ll do anything we ask,” the man smirked.

But Sherlock was calm as he replied.

“From that, I gather not all of you are friends. And seeing how you resort to violence to settle things right away: you’re probably a hoodlum accustomed to crime, aren’t ya?”

“Hoodlum? You’re not wrong, but call us a group of clever thieves if you can. After all, I’ve skilfully manipulated these scum and carried out some brilliant thefts.”

Drunk on his own accomplishments, the man threw a glance at Laura. She hadn’t budged from where she stood; protecting her head, she cowered on the ground in sheer terror. From that, one could easily imagine what maltreatment she and the others had suffered at the hands of these thugs.

His heart filled with rage, John glared at the man.

“That means you forced them to commit crimes, didn’t you?”

“Call it making effective use of them, Doctor Watson,” he drawled. “These people all live on a pittance of a daily income. No one would care if they’re gone. I’ve given them a rather fine job until now, but this time, she just had to screw up. ——As I thought, brats are useless after all!”

“……I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

He shouted at Laura, and she repeated that apology over and over as she sobbed.

“You……”

“John, you’re right to be angry, but please calm down.”

At the unforgivable sight before him, the detective’s assistant had balled his hands into fists, but Sherlock persuaded him to keep his cool.

“Ah…… Sorry to get back to the topic, but let me give you some clarity on this case.”

“Huh?”

As before, Sherlock’s demeanour lacked any sort of tension, and his opponent frowned. But the detective paid no heed to that as he continued.

“To sum up the story thus far: the bunch of louts brandishing their weapons here are the ringleaders behind the thefts, and the other vagrants and street merchants were forcibly…… ‘used’, if I were to borrow your words?”

“Yeah, that’s right. You could say that they’re all expendables to be exploited as I please. To have so skilfully manipulated them — I bet my abilities rival those of that rumoured ‘Lord of Crime’ or something.”

“……Well.”

At that name, Sherlock’s eye twitched. But he showed no further reaction than that as he replied.

“In other words, to you guys, their names and faces aren’t even worth remembering?”

“That’s an odd way to put it, but exactly. They’re all disposable — do you really think I can remember all of them? ……That said, how long are you gonna keep prattling on like that? I don’t know if you’re just trying to buy time, but it’s time for you to die.”

Running out of patience, the man broke off their conversation, and moved to pull the trigger: fully intending to shoot the detective and his assistant.

However, Sherlock’s smile remained bold as ever.

“——That’s it then. I’ve gotten your word.”

That instant, John couldn’t believe his eyes.

Among the crowd of vagrants, the ones who were shrouded in hoods — separate from the ringleaders — were now aiming guns at the criminals.

“……Huh?”

“——Don’t move.”

One of the mysterious figures commanded sternly, keeping his gun trained on the lead criminal. Stunned by this sudden development, the man complied; and with his other hand, the figure slowly drew back his hood.

“……Inspector Lestrade?”

Out of sheer astonishment, John murmured the person's name.

The man in the hood, was Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard. Facing the lead criminal, he spoke in a determined voice.

“From the conversation earlier, it’s clear that you have threatened the poor and coerced them into crime. I’ll hear the details at the station. Don’t even think about resisting.”

Then, the other figures removed their hoods and revealed their faces. One after the other, they confiscated the weapons from the stunned hoodlums. Though they weren’t wearing uniforms, from their practised actions, it was clear that they were police officers.

“W-What the devil is going on……?”

Tonight had been a night of many surprises for this detective. John was yet unable to wrap his head around the situation, and once again, he asked himself a question he’d thought about countless times today.

“Everything’s exactly as you’ve witnessed, John. When I identified this place, I contacted Lestrade at the same time, then got the officers to disguise themselves as tramps and hide among the crowd.”

“But why?”

“If I’d just called in the Yard as usual, we wouldn’t have been able to identify the ringleaders among this large a crowd.”

Sherlock stated that conclusion in brief, then began to explain.

“As I thought about the thieves’ actions, I judged that there was probably a mastermind separate from the ones committing the actual crimes, who was controlling them from behind the scenes. Hence, there was a need to identify this mastermind; but even if the Yard were to round up the entire group of vagrants, like what that ruffian told me earlier, they could just say that they had no relation to the ring of thieves — and that would be the end of it. Moreover, it still wasn’t clear who the ringleaders were, and the ring members who were being threatened would’ve likely been warned not to blab. So, in order to smoke out the ringleaders and elicit a confession, I added a bit of an act.”

Then, the detective looked at Lestrade, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“——Well, about the disguises: I’d thought about where the police squad could hide themselves, and decided it would be better for them to mingle with the crowd, so they wouldn’t have to sneak about all weirdly.”

“W-Wha— What a stupid……”

Upon hearing the truth, the man’s earlier triumphant attitude had devolved into a disgraceful, incredulous one. This time, Sherlock laughed out loud.

“Sure, you can make people follow you, but you’ll also have to keep tabs on them properly. In the first place, when this location was discovered, didn’t it occur to you that I would call in the Yard? You can pretend to be a mastermind, but with your lack of foresight, even the Lord of Crime would laugh.”

“S……Shite.”

“Oi, watch what you say from here on. It’ll be used as evidence against you in court.”

Lestrade warned the man as he clapped him in irons; accepting his defeat, he hung his head bitterly. For a villain who’d exploited people in poverty, and boasted of rivalling the Lord of Crime: it was a downright dreadful ending.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“I’ll always be in your debt, Holmes. And the same goes for you, Dr Watson.”

As he watched the arrested criminals being taken away, Lestrade thanked the detective duo.

However, in contrast to the inspector’s earnest attitude, Sherlock put a hand over his mouth as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Lestrade. Sorry for saying this when you’re being so serious, but…… you looked surprisingly good as a tramp.”

“H-Hey! That’s rude, Sherlock!”

“By Jove, Sherlock……”

John chided the detective, and Lestrade let out an astonished sigh.

“……Anyway, I’m grateful for your help in resolving this case.”

“Yeah, let me know when you have another interesting mystery next time.”

After that simple exchange, the inspector left to join the other police officers.

Then, Laura — the central figure from today — and an old woman from among the vagrants walked over to them.

“——U-Um, Dr Watson.”

The girl stood right before John. She bit her lip, and sank into a deep bow.

“I’m so sorry for tricking you!”

Laura blurted that out in a loud voice. Then, the old woman also bowed solemnly.

Met with their sincere apologies, John spoke up in a kind voice.

“It’s alright. You had no choice — all of you were being threatened.”

“B-But…… I……”

“Don’t worry about it. In any case, won’t it be tough for you all from here on?”

With a start, Laura realised what he meant, and dropped her gaze. Though they had been coerced into thievery, it was still a fact that they had broken the law. Hence, in order to furnish the details to the Yard, all of them would be taken in for questioning.

The atmosphere turned slightly gloomy, and Sherlock piped up.

“You don’t have to be so serious about it, y’know. Seeing as all of you had been forced into those crimes, the Yard’ll treat you more leniently.”

“Y-You’re right.”

John knew that Sherlock was deliberately being optimistic, in an effort not to worry them both. Hence, though it was a little awkward, John agreed with him.

Perhaps the matter wasn’t as simple as Sherlock had described, but the events from now on would be out of their hands entirely. Hoping that Lestrade would speak well in their defence, John changed the topic somewhat forcibly.

“……By the way, is this lady a relative of yours?”

Hearing that, Laura brightened up, and introduced the old woman.

“Yes, she’s my grandmother; we’ve been making a living together selling food.”

“Truly, please accept my sincere apologies for what happened.”

Hearing the old woman’s husky voice, John finally understood the awkward exchange he had witnessed between them at the park. Seeing as they were family, it was only natural for Laura to be more relaxed around her; moreover, the old woman’s faltering tone had surely been due to her guilt at deceiving him.

John nodded in understanding. Then, Laura took out a small pouch.

“That and this…… Here’s the full amount we’ve taken from you, Dr Watson. Please accept it.”

“Ah, I see. I’d forgotten all about the money. Thank you.”

John was about to reach for the pouch, when all of a sudden, a thought struck him — and he stopped.

“……Um, is something the matter?”

Seeing him freeze up, Laura tilted her head. Then, John withdrew his hand, and instead held up the bag full of items he’d bought from the street merchants.

“‘Taken’? What’re you saying? I bought these of my own accord. I can’t see any issues with them, so I’ve no intention of getting a refund.”

“……Eh?”

“Isn’t that right? I negotiated properly with the merchants in the parks, and bought these items as a customer. There was no trickery at all.”

John asserted that proudly, and beside him, he heard Sherlock chuckle.

Of course, what John said was by no means a show of bravado that he hadn’t been tricked. Laura had been moved by his kindness throughout the day; in an instant, she sensed the emotions imbued in his words. But even so, she knitted her brows, looking troubled.

“Still, I really should return this to you.”

She then offered him the pouch again, but John gently pushed it away.

“Laura, in all honesty, the walnuts your grandmother sold me were delicious. For products that good, it’s only right that I pay a fair price for them.”

His smile was full of warmth as he continued.

“If I happen to see your stall again, I’ll be sure to buy from you.”

“Dr Watson……”

This time, Laura did not press the matter.

She held the pouch as if it were a treasure, and her face brimmed with smiles.

“——Alright. When we see each other again, I’ll be sure to prepare lots of walnuts for you.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.”

Then, John bade goodbye to Laura and her grandmother; and with his “loot” in hand, he left the scene with Sherlock.

[existslikepristin]

Dramatic Crime Drama

No image for this one because I am ashamed so fucking proud of this accomplishment of a smut. And however stupid this seems, it is the prequel to Get To Blow You. Also I meant to schedule this to be posted later. Oops. Please feel free to not reblog this bullshit stained glass masterwork.

Tags: TheLounge, Aespa, Monsta X, Winter, Shownu, Jooheon, Hyungwon, so drama, much cops, absolute masterpiece, deepthroat, prime time TV worthy, intense interrogation, the best smut ever written, this took years of hard work and definitely not half an hour, you dare enter my realm, you are not prepared, my potions aren't fit for a beast let alone a man

~~~~~

"Tell us where the bomb is!"

"I already told you Officer Shownu. There is no bomb," Winter said with her head held high.

"Don't bullshit me!"

"Yeah, don't bullshit him!" Officer Jooheon shouted from the other side of the table.

Shownu continued, "You know damn well there's a bomb that will level Seoul Block G, because you and your team planted it."

Winter looked in every direction except at Shownu, twirling her blonde-blue hombre hair around a finger. "Wow, officer. We've been over this offscreen already. Why did you need to exposit like that?"

Shownu roared and threw his pen on the floor.

The interrogation room speaker cracked on, ~"SON! LEE! GET IN HERE!"~

The officers stormed out of the room and around the corner.

"She's getting to me, Captain Hyungwon!" Shownu threw his sunglasses on the floor.

"You think I can't see that, officer?! I've got half a mind to take your badge right now!"

"Captain!" Jooheon shouted, "We joined this precinct to save lives and by jove that's exactly what we're gonna do! If you take his badge, you'll have mine too!"

"Dammit Lee, you're right!"

The three of them glared through the one-way mirror. Winter was standing up against it, caressing it sensually. But most unsettlingly of all, she was doing it while staring directly at all three police!

"Men, get back in there and make her talk."

"Aye aye, Captain," both officers said simultaneously and walked around the corner to back into the interrogation room.

Winter was already back in her seat. "Well boys? Did you find the bomb?"

Jooheon pointed accusingly at her, "You said earlier that there was no bomb!"

She laughed a light, cold laugh, "I must have... lied."

Officer Shownu threw his badge on the floor. He turned his back to her and shouted at Jooheon, "Dammit, she got us!"

"Don't lose your cool, Shownu! This is for the good of the city!"

"You're right, Jooheon! We joined this precinct to save lives!" Shownu stomped over to Winter, looming over her.

She looked up at him through the corner of her eye and sighed out with a single word, "Well?"

Shownu took a deep breath and shouted down, "Tell us where the bomb is!"

"I'm afraid," Winter said cooly, "You'll have to facefuck the answer out of me."

~"SHE CAN'T BE SERIOUS!"~

"Oh, I'm deadly serious, Mr. Police Captain Hyungwon."

"Egad, Shownu! Do you really think you can do it?!" Jooheon gripped Shownu's shoulder tightly.

The two officers turned to each other, putting their foreheads together.

"I have to Jooheon. If I don't make it... Tell Jennifer I love her."

Jooheon shed a tear and lightly smacked Shownu's cheek. "I don't know who that is."

Shownu turned on Winter once again, fire in his eyes and dick out of his pants.

"Seems your Black Mamba is happy to see me," Winter chuckled chilly.

~"DAMMIT SON, MATURE SPECIMENS COMMONLY GROW TO THREE METERS!"~

With determination, Shownu stepped forward so his dick rested on Winter's shoulder. With equal determination, she grabbed it and hefted it to her lips. She didn't hesitate for a moment to open her mouth and immediately swallow half of it. Shownu threw his head back.

"No! Shownu!" Jooheon shouted, his arm outstretched.

Officer Shownu put a hand back. "It's okay Jooheon! I can do this!"

Winter looked up at Shownu, a mischevious, icy glint in her eye. She inched herself down, agonizingly slowly. Like a glacier or something I'm running out of winter puns.

Shownu glared back down, grabbed the back of her head, and pulled hard. The moment her nose touched his pelvis, Shownu climaxed, releasing Winter's head. His groan and a loud slurping noise practically echoed through the room as she came all the way off, getting hit in the cheek with the last spurt of his cum.

Shownu stood there, dazed, but doing his damnedest to shake out of it. He managed to get in a deep breath. "Tell us where the bom-- Where did she go?!" He threw his shirt on the floor.

Jooheon pointed at the interrogation room door that was slowly swinging itself shut.

~"DAMMIT! SHE'S GOT A GUN!"~

~"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? NO I DON'T. LORD, YOU ARE SO WEIRD. I'M OUTTA HERE."~

"Should we go after her, Shownu?" Jooheon asked, looking quite concerned.

Shownu smirked, "No. I got all I needed."

THE END, BITCHES.

[hermannsthumb]

26 + 70 please! I'm loving these!

Anonymous asked: 89 + 70 to ease ur boredom?

26. Massage Fic + 70. Locked in a Room + 89. First Time

from fanfiction trope mash-up prompts here

some VERY OLD prompt fills I never got around to finishing! im talking like 3 years old. better late than never? this fic has a similar conceit to this one I posted last year, but it’s not like newt and hermann aren’t probably quarantining themselves constantly after lab accidents LMAO. sexy/not SFW stuff under cut

—————————————————————————————

“Mandatory isolation,” Newton says. “This blows.”

Hermann says nothing, choosing instead to aggressively turn a page in his book. He’s already said plenty to Newton on the subject, and he doesn’t imagine anything he has to say now will provide any new insights, or indeed even be moderately politer. Newton has—really, really—royally screwed things up this time. More than anything he has before. Hermann finds his anger over it all to be quite righteous, really. “Hm,” he hums instead. He turns another page.

“One whole week,” Newton says. “Locked in, nothing to do…”

Hermann grits his teeth. Truthfully, the book is for show, and for the excuse to ignore Newton, but it’s very hard to pretend to concentrate on it when Newton won’t stop talking to him. It’s especially irritating considering Newton is saying absolutely nothing of value. Then again, when is he ever? “Is there something you’re trying to say to me?” Hermann says.

Newton shakes his head. He’s playing with one of the little stress toys he keeps in his desk (a large foam strawberry), squeezing it over and over. “Oh, nothing. Just trying to make small talk.”

One whole week, locked inside the laboratory after one stupid little mistake meant Newton’s scalpel slipped where it shouldn’t have on his kaiju sample. One whole week of bloody self-isolation to make sure they don’t…infect the Shatterdome with anything they might’ve picked up in the resulting explosion. Not even a day in and Newton is already acting up. Kaiju withdrawal, perhaps, having been explicitly forbidden from working on any new samples until their containment passes. Squeeze. Squeeze. Hermann flips another page in his book. Newton clears his throat. “I know you’re not actually reading that,” he says.

“Aren’t I?” Hermann says.

Newton tosses the foam strawberry in the air with one hand and catches it with the other. “Tell me one thing that’s happened so far in it. Actually—tell me the title.”

“The title,” Hermann says, “is—”

“And no peeking,” Newton says.

This stumps Hermann. He slams the cover shut and makes to chuck the whole thing at Newton’s head, but decides better of it. He could get written up for workplace violence or some rubbish of that sort. Plus, without access to medical until the end of the week, Hermann would be the one who had to tend to any resulting wounds. Not worth it. “Fine,” he says. “I’m not reading it. Are you pleased, now that you have my undivided attention?”

Squeeze. “I guess,” Newton says. He smiles at Hermann. “Want me to suck your dick?”

This the last thing Hermann expects to hear. He startles; he blushes; he stammers; he nearly falls off his chair. Surely he must’ve misheard Newton—or, if he didn’t, surely Newton is teasing him. Newton has never done anything of that sort to Hermann before. Nor has he ever offered. It’s simply not how their relationship works. “I,” he says. “What?”

“Do you want a blowjob?” Newton says. So Hermann didn’t imagine it. “I just thought, since we’re both stuck here and bored as shit, may as well have some fun. People tell me I’m pretty good at it.”

“Good at—what?” Hermann says.

“At sucking dick,” Newton says. “Obviously.”

Hermann wonders what the appropriate response here is. Certainly he would like nothing more than to take Newton up on the offer and forget all his annoyances for a few wonderful minutes, or rather, to take his annoyances out on Newton’s never-ceasing mouth. If Newton’s offer is serious, Hermann is sure such an acceptance would be welcome. If Newton is not serious—if he means it as a joke—it could only lead to humiliation for Hermann. Something for Newton to hold over his head for the rest of the week. Hermann really thought Newton would suck him off? But the temptation of getting Newton’s mouth on him is too much for Hermann to resist, and he really is quite bored: he nods, shyly, and legs his legs part open an inch.

Newton grins.

He tosses his stress toy to his desk and gets down on his knees in front of Hermann with an admirable speed. Not saying a word, he settles his hand on Hermann’s thigh, then creeps his fingers along Hermann’s right inseam. “I bet it’ll make you feel better,” he says. “It’s gonna make me feel better. When’s the last time someone blew you, Hermann?” He fixes his eyes on the vee of Hermann’s parted legs, where the fabric of his trousers is tightening none-too-subtly at the mere notion of what Newton is offering. Hermann makes a weak show of closing them. He swallows a few times.

“I don’t, ah—I don’t remember.” Newton’s wandering fingers stop just before where Hermann wants them most, then skip over to the left side. “A few months. Years. Newton, I must—must ask—why are you…?”

Newton shrugs, and begins rubbing circles across Hermann’s inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking about how to get you to stop being pissed at me all day, and honestly, this seemed like it would work. Pretend it’s an apology or something. Man, Hermann, you’re tense.”

“You have no one to thank for that but yourself,” Hermann says. He shuts his eyes with a groan when Newton squeezes his left thigh like it’s his bloody stress toy. “By Jove, Newton, that feels marvelous.”

“Tense,” Newton says. “I told you. You don’t need a blowjob, dude, you need a goddamn massage.” He braces a hand on each of Hermann’s thighs and begins to work them over—clumsily, since (for all his skills in human biology) Newton is hardly a masseuse, but far better than anything Hermann could do all the same. Hermann sinks lower in his seat and muffles another embarrassing noise behind his hand. “Luckily, though,” Newton says, “I’m gonna give you both, because I’m an awesome lab partner. Let me know if something starts to hurt.”

Newton begins to focus his efforts on Hermann’s left leg, avoiding his knee at first, and then tentatively working his fingers over it as well. Hermann wonders if Newton can feel the scar tissue beneath his fingertips, or if Hermann’s trousers are acting as buffer enough for it. Hermann begins to sag in his chair. He feels positively boneless. He also feels that if Newton does not move those fingers (or, better yet, and as promised, his mouth) to his rapidly-stiffening prick soon, he’ll positively burst. “You enjoying yourself?” Newton says.

“Mm,” Hermann says. “Though, Newton—I don’t mean to be impolite, as I’m awfully grateful for this, but…”

Newton laughs, and with a final parting squeeze to Hermann’s leg, moves those lovely fingers to Hermann’s belt buckle and fly instead. “I got you, man.”

Hermann opens his eyes (not fancying missing this) and watches with bated breath as Newton draws down his trousers to settle comfortably at Hermann’s knees. He nearly blushes at the sight of his white boxer briefs, not just for their plainness, but for how badly they hide how wet his prickhead is already. Newton must feel Hermann’s eyes on him; he shoots Hermann a wink, and, not breaking eye contact, leans forward to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Hermann through his briefs.

Immediately Hermann clamps a hand down over his mouth to keep from shouting. He feels Newton laugh again, a vibration that thrums in the pit of Hermann’s stomach, and he pushes his hips eagerly up towards Newton’s mouth. Newton darts his tongue out this time, dampening the fabric of Hermann’s briefs further. Then he tucks their elastic waistband down below Hermann’s prick. “I didn’t expect it to look like this,” he says, and grazes his thumb idly across the head. He pulls it away sticky, and Hermann whimpers.

He moves his hand from his mouth long enough to say, “Have—have you thought about it often, then?” He means it teasingly—to regain some ground from Newton, some sliver of self-respect—but his voice trembles, and Newton’s grin returns with a certain lasciviousness to it that it’d not held before, and Hermann knows he’s merely given Newton more ammunition. He licks Hermann’s precum off his thumb. Hermann shivers.

“Oh, sure,” Newton says. “I jerk off thinking about your dick all the time.” He flicks his tongue over Hermann and makes a satisfied little noise, his eyelashes fluttering. He leaves another sucking kiss further down Hermann’s prick. Then another back up at the top. His fingers (Hermann notices vaguely, as if through a heavy fog) have begun rubbing soothingly at Hermann’s left hip. Hermann can only take so much: when Newton finally gets his whole mouth on him, two pink lips circling just under his head, Hermann grips blindly at Newton’s hair and comes down Newton’s throat with a muffled grunt. He feels Newton choke, but swallow it all down.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, when he finally finds himself able to speak. “I ought—ought to have warned you.”

But Newton merely wipes his smug little mouth on the cuff of his sleeve and waves Hermann off. “I’m just that awesome, huh?” he says. He gently tucks Hermann back into his briefs, then does up his trousers. “It’s cool. It was pretty hot, actually.” Once he finishes looping Hermann’s belt, he stands and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. “Hey, you want some coffee?”

“Coffee?” Hermann says, dizzily.

“Yeah, I was gonna brew a pot,” Newton says. “Get the taste out of my mouth and everything.”

Hermann blinks at him. Newton’s rather thrown him for a loop. Aren’t these sorts of things meant to be reciprocated? Hermann didn’t mean to assume—but he really was looking forward to the chance to, er, give Newton a similar favor. Very much looking forward to it. “That’s it, then?” he says.

“We have six days to go, dude,” Newton says. “No need to rush anything, right? We can work on your,” he smirks, “endurance after lunch.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. He considers it. “Coffee would be nice, then.”

[kareofbears]

persona 5 strikers thoughts and feelings

This is going to be a long post. Like, the type of post you’d only really have time to read when you’re trying to sleep but you’re not ready to be unconscious yet so you’re just looking for something to do to spend your time with minimal effort. 

So in 2018, a masterpiece was born into the world: Into the Spider-verse was released and it was amazing—it’s honestly the best spiderman movie we have without a doubt, and it’ll be very far into the future before Spider-verse is beaten as the best spiderman movie. Them’s the facts. Then in 2019, Spider-man: Far From Home was dropped. It’s a great movie! Great characters, great continuation of who these characters are and works fantastic as a continuation of a story. It’s really hard trying to take the torch of a previous movie (or in Marvel’s case, juggling twenty something movies) and come up with a new movie that both works on its own, as well as being the next step in this series of films. Thus, with that idea in mind, I think it’s kind of unfair to judge into the spiderverse and far from home, because these are two movies with two completely different objectives in mind. 

Okay, so this is still a persona 5 strikers post, I promise, but the idea is the same: Persona 5 could basically do whatever it wanted—new story, new characters, new everything, and it’s just plain old awesome. However, Persona 5 strikers did not have that sort of freedom. It was bound to the original game, and it had its own rules and stuff it had to keep intact, characters they had to work with, and on top of that, it had to justify its existence as a sequel (lets pretend money doesnt exist lmfao). 

SO, the big question is: did it do that? Did it justify its existence? 

And my answer: holy fuck did it ever do that

I came into this game knowing the extreme bare minimum. I knew there was someone named Sophia, and i knew there was roadtrip, and i knew there were Personas. That’s my knowledge of it before i played it on the Switch.  I should also clarify like, early on, that i was not expecting anything from this game. At all. I was the world’s biggest cynic of this game—if you scroll down my p5s tag far enough, youll just see me complaining about a game that hasn’t even come out yet. I was fully expecting to have this be a Waifu show, and any male character that isn’t Akira to just be shoved aside like some kind of nerd in a high school hallway, and i have never been more pleased to be wrong. In fact, i actually owe it an apology, because of how fucking rude i was for no reason!!! Because this game deserves everything to be honest. 

Persona 5 strikers is, frankly, insane. Insane in the sense that it got to pull shit off that just would never have existed in the original game, because the original game is scared. It had to be as impressive as possible and garner as much attention as possible. Strikers does not have that problem—every single person who bought that game does not need to be convinced that persona 5 is a good game. They already played it. That means Atlus can just fuck around and have a good time, and man did they have a good time. There’s still scenes that still shock me if i think about it too hard, because i’m used to atlus having to follow this sort of rule set when it comes to persona 5 (or any of the main games im assuming, but i havent played them.) And on top of that, there’s still shit that’s Atlus Trademarked Branded in a good way. The style of story of story telling, and revealing the mystery that is so integral to what p5 is, is still there. 

So, to make this even a little bit comprehensible, i will make a list! 

First of all, What is this game?

In short, this game is an OVA of an anime. It’s bonus side content that has one thing in mind: to showcase these lovable characters more by putting them in fun situations. That’s it, and it is just phenomenal. That was the main point of, i’d say, like forty hours of the game. It’s just fun times with fun characters. 

But to get deeper of what i think is happening, or what they were thinking during the development, is that this is a second opportunity. Persona 5 (as we all know) had a lot of problems, and we were not quiet about those problems. We yelled it all out, made posts, made complaints on every social media platform ever. And Atlus heard all of them, and Strikers is a way to mitigate those mistakes. Aside from being a fun OVA, Strikers also works to be a deeper exploration of these characters—more specifically, the characters that did not receive much in the original game. Creating this sequel is having the ability to redo what they felt (or to be more specific, we felt) in the original game while adding new ones. I will get to that in a second.  

The format of the game 

Absolutely brilliant to throw them on a road trip. P5V already forced us to experience Shibuya for 200+ hours, and im so glad that they didn’t do that again. Going from town to town, making us experience these new places alongside our favorite characters is so good, and it just makes sense. It’s fun, it’s lighthearted, and it’s actually shockingly good. But one thing i do want to talk about early on is the way the story unfolds and the villains that they use, and what they do with it because it’s very interesting. 

So as we explore japan and stuff, we encounter jails, and with those jails comes an antagonist. This antagonist works to be a parallel to one of our characters. That character will find it in their hearts to feel bad for the antagonist, because the antagonist could have been them had the original game not happen. At first I thought all of the thieves were gonna get an antagonist, and i was really hyped for the ryuji one. And then came to hour forty of the game where i realized “yeah that’s not gonna happen. There’s just not enough time.” And i was right, and the game ended. But i am not salty at all, honestly, because the people who got a direct antagonist were: Ann, Yusuke, and Haru. (we wont count zen and sophie). 

Is there a trend??? Yes. these are all characters in the original game that have received the worst treatment by atlus. The three of them are basically cast aside the minute they finished their original arc, and its horrible! BUT that’s why this is the path that atlus chose for them—to give them more depth, and screentime, and a way to show their inner self. That isn’t to say that the ones who aren’t those three (makoto, futaba, mona, akira, ryuji) didn’t get anything. Futaba still has her thing at the end with ichinose, and she was very prevalent and animated during the rest of the game. Mona and Akira have to be a focal points, that’s just the nature of the game. The other two though, I will talk about in depth in a second.  

Makoto

Y’all i poke fun at shumako fans sometimes cause its kind of easy and fun, but i honestly love makoto. In my very first playthrough of p5 (my first ever jrpg game, first persona game, i had no idea what i was doing), i had only maxed out two characters: ryuji and makoto. And i know she had a lot of screentime and love in the original game which is great, but i truly felt like she was dissed in this game. Her only roles were

A driver

Someone to tell them “we don’t have a choice. Let’s keep going and see where this takes us.” (seriously, if you replay this game, you will see how much she does this)

Idk, i just wish she had more to do, especially compared to how much love they gave the other characters. 

But let’s talk about some of the new characters! 

Zenkichi

Damn you atlus. Damn you and your insistence at bringing in cop characters. I was fully on board with hating zenkichi, i was fucking ready for it. I was convinced that there was nothing they could do convince to like zenkichi. I was immune to their copaganda. 

And then i ended up loving him, which makes me sad a little bit. I didn’t realize how desperate i was to have an adult who has a persona. Someone who wants the world to change just as much as they do, while still having that aspect of them that makes them adult. Like??? As someone who is technically an adult, its a breath of fresh air. An adult. Who fights. For justice. Using a persona. And god i love akane so much, and her obsession with the thieves (that scene is probably in my top ten fave scenes of the game). Also what i loved about zenkichi is that he fucking hates the cops!! He hates the system of the cops!! And thats why i actually really started to love him!! Because i thought it was atlus saying that the systematic problem of the police cannot be solved by one person, and zenkichi threw away his badge. I actually cried at that part!! 

But then he became a cop again, and i was just :/ but as a character, i really love him to bits and would love to do a study on him, or at least use him as an outside pov. But! i absolutely love his persona, since im a les miserables fan hehe

Sophia 

she’s probably my favorite new aspect of the game. I was ready to not like her—again, i just suck like that, lmfao—and when i saw her, i was scared that she was just another waifu. I mean, she was very cute after all. But then as the game went on, i thought she was a little too cute. And even further into the game, i finally slapped myself in the face and realized oh my god shes not a waifu. Shes a sister. 

That blew my mind, im ngl to you. A female character that isn’t supposed to be romanced? By jove, what a miracle! 

And she…is an amazing character. Im sorry, i just love her so much. I love her so much that she  probably ranks as my fifth or sixth favorite character which is surprising even to me. Everything about her is delightful and invigorating. She’s funny??? Her comedic timing is amazing, and she has such chemistry with the rest of the team. She’s actually useful to the plot, and while her character design is a little too on the nose for me in terms of cuteness (i mean, good god she’s wearing oversized sweater to show how cute and tiny she is, and her hair has literal hearts in it), she is absolutely lovable. 

But what i actually really wanna gush about for a second is sophia at the last stage of the game. You get the idea, i dont really like to get excited over things, so at this point i figured that there was nothing this game could do to shock me. 

And then sophia had a persona awakening. 

Like. holy fuck did i yell. I didnt realize what was happening until the music had already kicked in. and its just so fucking smart!!! Sophia??? The ai?? With no heart?? gOT A PERSONA???? AWAKENING??? BECAUSE SHE LEARNED WHAT THE HEART IS AND THE PASSION THAT YOU NEED IN ORDER TO GET A PERSONA??? I started crying honestly, because it was just so smart. And looking back on it now, its obvious!! Of course it would lead to this, it only made sense that the culmination of her character arc leads to her getting a persona, nothing else would have been as good. Also, her voice actor is just amazing?? When she was talking to ichinose at the end, i actually got incredibly emotional because of the line reads. Its just so spot on and it really captures the essence of sophia.

Muah. five stars Atlus. You got me. 

Ryuji <3!!!!

Oh man. Oh boy. Okay. so where do i start. 

Yall know i love him. Hes probably my favorite fictional male character of all time, and he is the one i was the absolute most cynical about in this game. I was expecting literally nothing. Nothing. Like. nothing. I thought he was just gonna keep being used as a joke, or a gag, and he’s gonna be super horny all the time for the other girls and it was gonna make me mad and there was gonna be some insane homophobic/queerphobic jokes in every other scene and i know i was being unfair, but i cant help it. 

And then i played the first two hours of the game, and i cried the entire time. Because ryuji has never been better than he is in this game. Its crazy. 

The ryuji in persona 5 strikers is who ryuji should have been/how he should have been treated this entire time. From the actual funny jokes (for example, the gold bar joke + his reaction to it in the beginning of the game), defending his female friends instead of being the one people need to defend from (natsume arc), and the fact that he was the one to be there with morgana and akira in the very beginning of the game. Its such a small thing that they didnt even need to do, but it was such an integral part of the original game for me, that i just was convinced that nothing like this was going to happen. But then it happened. Its just small stuff like that that could have been overlooked but it wasn’t because this game? Persona 5 strikers? Fucking loves ryuji. 

The actual respect they gave this boy is insane and i wasn't ready for it. Like, they gave the shujin trio lunch, they gave the little charm of the katana when they were in natsume’s jail, and, in my opinion this is the second-best thing that they could have given ryuji is sophia. Ryuji and sophia are the pinnacle of a brother & sister bonding relationship in the game that isn’t akira & futaba. And its really prevalent too?? Small stuff from the beginning of the game (pulling her out of a jail, calling her shorty), but then you have the iconic “shut the fuck up” scene, and that scene was so well characterized and written and voice acted, that somehow him saying “fuck” was the least exciting part of that scene to me. Ryuji is an older brother to her, like its undoubtable, and its only further cemented at the end of the game where Ryuji helps out ichinose because he knows how much sophia cares about her. This game. Love ryuji. And i love. This game. 

You know what else i love? Akiryu. 

Guys. i was fully prepared to starve in terms of akiryu. But theres just. So much of it. I wont get too deep into it, because i think this aspect of the game for me still needs marinate a little bit. Like, what was that last shot when EMMA died and Ryuji walked to approach Akira so they could relish in their victory together?? And the smile from both of them??? What the fuck. That was amazing. Also Joker being saved by Ryuji when he was about to fall from the cliff to save sophia??? WHAT. The LEADER AND HIS RIGHT HAND MAN? WHAT. anyway. If theres anything i want to keep for myself in my own brain, its the akiryu aspect of this game, so i wont talk too much about that part of things (instead, itll probably manifest in fic lmfaooo). 

Sure, there’s tidbits of stuff i dont like that they gave ryuji: sexualizing ann in that one cut scene and making him touch the jails even though it hurts, and i recognize those and frown at them, but for the most part, i am blown away with how they treated him.

Basically, Ryuji has never been better. From the opening of the game with him being the first text message and the one to sling his arm around akira, to the very last cut scene where it was ryuji wordlessly leaving because he’s so confident that they would never be separated for long, this game adores Ryuji and i am so so happy to say that.

The Royal aspect of things

Yeah, i had to talk about this, but itll be a short thing i just wanted to point out. Because the last part of this game...is persona 5 royal. Which is curious. Like taking reality and giving that power to someone else so you dont have to experience suffering anymore? And even like, the final section just looked a lot like the top half of maruki’s palace?? And whats even crazier is that we had a boss fight with sophia, just like how we had a boss fight with sumire? Royal and Strikers have like, the same thesis statement. It’s kind of uncanny.It’s interesting, it’s like atlus came up with these two ideas, and then just decided they liked both of them so much that they just did it twice. I don’t mind though—actually, in terms of how the last Palace/Jails go, i probably like them both about equally. 

Though i did love the final battle in this one more than i did in royal. Splitting into teams?? Thats cool as fuck, and really innovative and i didnt see it coming. It also kicked my ass. A lot. 

Now for the last stretch: the small stuff!

The music — bomb as fuck. In my heart, Daredevil is ranked the same as Rivers. Axe to grind is also amazing, but Daredevil owns me

Akechi — i really debated whether or not to talk about him, but i figured a bullet point should be enough. Im really shocked that he wasnt in this at all. Like not even a name drop. If this is an OVA, and the point of the game is to please the fans, and akechi is arguably the fan favorite character, i was really ready for something. But there was nothing, except for the pancake hallway if that even counts as a reference. Thats it. Thats all i wanted to say about him.

The humour — FUCKING HILARIOUS im convinced that in my fifty hour playtime, five of that is dedicated to me laughing and unable to continue the game 

Akira — so much personality! His lines of dialogue are crazy sometimes (like. Whats up with him saying Ryuji has ‘nice abs’ when they were in bath? Im crazy and even i dont know what the fuck that could mean) 

Battle system — oh my god i almost forgot to talk about this. I love it! I kind of miss the turn based aspect just because i found it very comforting for some reason, but this hack and slash style of gameplay is so invigorating because i do feel like it justifies shit like the baton pass and huge attacks.  This battle system fully encompases how the Phantom Thieves are supposed to fight, you know what i mean?

Anyway, thats my thoughts on strikers. Loved it. Amazing. 9.3/10, wouldve been higher but Konoe’s Jail almost bored me to death. Also im a monster and i didnt do any requests that isn’t a fun one, teehee. As if i play persona 5 for the persona aspect of things.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

60. “have you always been this beautiful?” + 68. “You owe me a kiss.” for sean/reader plssss?

Glitter in The Air (Sean X Reader)

A/N: This is just pure Sean Falco bubble gum cotton candy fluff just for Joz ☺️☺️😍

You held your finger above the mouse and debated which road to take:

Add him. It's only been four years, but he's bound to remember you.

Forget it. It’s been four years, how would he ever remember you?!

Without a second thought you clicked add friend on the Facebook name “SeanFalco92.” You typed out a little note just in case.

Hey, Sean.

I'm sorry about what happened at the University. You're a bit infamous. Not every day the quiet Irishman gives it to the campus police. That fire hydrant was ugly anyways.

Y/N, The Dark Room Princess

Then you switched off the internet to prevent yourself from nervously checking every ten minutes to see a response. So you poured yourself a cup of coffee and put your headphones in. It was gonna be an all-nighter on your grad school thesis.

Your computer made a loud ping noise that startled you from sleep you didn't realize you had fallen into. You raised your head and looked at the time “11am.” Thank God, still a few hours until you had to turn in your thesis. Then you were free to never worry about university again, until the loans rolled in. You groaned.

Still you adjusted yourself and your glasses to read the message that had come up alongside the friend request acceptance.

Hey! Yeah it's totally been awhile. How have you been? I felt the wrath of my parents when they bailed me out. Due for a bit of community payback for a few months. Sorry “Service.” Next time I won't get nicked.

Not quite sure about the dark room reference, but was thinking you should meet me at the carnival on Friday. I know I shouldn't be on campus, but I had tickets before everything went down. Care to be my reason for still showing my face after all that humiliation?

Sean

You shook your head and laughed. He definitely didn't remember you, and you weren't exactly sure what he was up to. Who turns down an opportunity to spend the night with Sean Falco?

You took your time replying. Showering. Eating lunch. Printing your thesis and assembling it. Not wanting to appear eager in your reply. He pinged again.

You there? It looked like you were online. Sorry, didn't mean to appear so needy or forward. I just thought it’d be nice to be reacquainted.

You cocked an eyebrow, cheeks flushed a bit and finally returned a response.

Yeah. I would like that. I live in the Madison apartments. Get to Union station (I'm guessing you lost your license?) and we’ll take the Gold Line back to campus. See you at 7.

Sean's comeback was immediate.

It's a date!

Your face grew even hotter. Fuck, it's a date.

-----

You couldn't help but be nervous as you paced around the front steps of your apartment complex. You felt confident in the cute outfit you rushed out and bought impulsively. Or how you bit the bullet and got your hair done too after you delivered your thesis. You claimed it was in celebration of the rest of your life and nothing to do with the tall, lanky Irishman now headed your way.

“Sean!” a bit startled as you turned around in his direction.

Curly hair a bit wild, his jeans looking industrial but you knew they weren't bought that way. The purple tee-shirt he wore somehow made his leafy green eyes positively stunning. His hand was outstretched with a flower held towards you.

“T’ought I might go a bit old-fashioned t’night,” you took the --- from him. “Maybe a bit o’ congratulations for finishing your t’esis paper.”

Glad your hair covered your ears because you knew the tips were bright red. You never remembered his lilt being that strong or noticeable. Maybe for some strange reason it was his nerves too?

“A Peony? Sean, these are my favorites! How’d you know?” you smelled it briefly before you tucked it away behind your ear. Pleasantly surprised. “Thank you.”

“I may have creeped around your photos a bit, hope ye don't mind?” Sean raised his hands and crinkled one of his eyes shut.

“This is my first flower from anyone, so I'll take some light stalking in the meantime. We should hurry though, the train leaves in ten minutes.”

The two of you side by side. You sat turned to face him, back towards the window of the car. Sean faced forward and stole sideways glances while you talked.

“So what does a young lady with a Masters in Art History do fer livin?”

“I want to restore old paintings at the Met in New York, but I'll probably be stuck here in Portland till I'm thirty. What about you, think you can bypass a degree and still be a photojournalist? Maybe and Irish Ansel Adams?”

Sean laughed, “How did you know any of that?” He looked directly at you with a gleam in his eyes.

“You really don't remember me do you?”

You took a chance and slid your hand into his to prevent him from picking at a loose thread in his shirt. Sean easily enclosed it without hesitation.

“Mostly!” Cheek hidden in his smile. “I just thought something about ye clicked in my brain. Can't figure out why, but was hopin’ going out with ye would jog my mind. Is t’at ok?”

There was no time to answer. Soon enough you were back on campus. You talked Sean into some french fries and corn dogs before tugging at his hand excitedly.

“Ok, the Ferris Wheel! Let's do that first? We should be able to see downtown, and it'll be dusk by the time we get on.”

Sean hesitated as his eyes glanced up towards the top. A flash of nerves behind his eyes, but he gave up and shrugged. Obediently following you in line while he ate, a bit sullen.

Surely the guy who just fought a fire hydrant and a cop wouldn't be scared of heights, you thought. Then you flashed back to that day Freshman year and Sean's panicked voice in the dark. His ragged breath and palms that sweat through your tee shirt as he held onto your shoulders.

You shoved a cheese fry in your mouth as the line staggered forward slow and steady. The conversation had died quite suddenly, but you knew you had to take the chance. Cheesy romantic comedy as this all was, who doesn't want to be with a hot guy alone stuck on a ride?

“Uh y/n?” The giggle was back in Sean’s voice now as you broke from your reverie. “You've got some..” His thumb swiped at the corner of your mouth before he lifted it to his own. “Cheese.”

“Thank.. you?” The tension was silent and awkward.

Then, as the two of you simply stared at each other, Sean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled laugh and a snort. It was infectious, and you instantly joined in. That type of laughter you aren't sure how people achieve, but it leaves you breathless and annoying to everyone in your sight.

“I don't know.. why..I licked.. my thumb,” he wheezed around the most childlike giggle. “It was like a weird compulsion.” The way he said the word came out like “way-rd,” and instigated more laughter from deep inside you.

It seemed to ease Sean’s apprehension as the two of you began to board the ride, though. A calm coming over him as you both quieted down. He white-knuckled the bar as it clicked into place over your laps. Eyes wide as it lurched into motion.

You brushed your fingers tentatively over his clenched fist. Sean had a glazed look in his eyes as you slowed and stopped multiple times. You inches towards the top. He really was frightened.

“I've just gotta get over this. I'm confronting my fear is all.” He sounded so serious with a hint of pride, you stifle a chuckle with a bite of a lip.

Sean peered slightly over the edge of the car and looked downwards. Then it halted suddenly and he grabbed your hand and covered it with his massive one. You squirmed around to hold it properly as he squeezed his eyes shut. The car swung back and forth a bit on the precarious side, even for you. One last time, and it would start spinning in its giant lackadaisical circle.

Forward. Pitch to a stop even harder than the last few. This time Sean buried his face in your shoulder, and you relished this surprising role-reversal. But then he looked up at you in the most serious manner.

“Have you always been this beautiful?”

At the same exact time you said:

“First claustrophobia now heights”

You both sat up straight and gaped.

Again simultaneously.

“How d’ye know I'm claustrophobic?!”

“Did you just call me pretty?”

For the moment, Sean was no longer afraid. Your sentiment about his fear distracted him long enough that he loosened up immensely. Long fingers scratched at his mess of curls while deep in thought. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, heart beating wildly in your ears.

Sean tugged at his chin with a forefinger and thumb. Obviously deep in thought as he gazed off into the sky. It was like a lightbulb finally popped on over his head.

“Jesus (jaysus) Dr Bacher’s photography course. Freshman year!”

You smiled, “By Jove I think he's got it!”

“T’at’s how ye know me. We got right stuck in that darkroom door. It was like a pitch-black tube really. Man I bloody well panicked.”

“I thought you were screwing with me at first! Your hands were so sweaty my tee-shirt was wet from where you were groping me. I kept thinking how every single girl in our class would've killed our professor to be stuck with the hot Irish guy. All that heavy breathing, my teenage brain thought it was sexual tension.”

“I was 18 wedged in a small space with a cute girl. It was claustrophobia, but it was also sexy.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and smiled. The two of you ignoring the ride and it's slow rotations. Still holding hands.

“I don't think I imagined that..” you struggled with the next line.. “parts of you were totally poking into me.”

Sean's mouth dropped open but he repeated his prior sentiment. A bit higher pitched. “I WAS 18 IN A SMALL SPACE WITH A HOT GIRL!” His lilt was more pronounced.

“Who gets a fear.. boner,” you rolled back into the hysterics from earlier on the ground.

Sean's face a deep crimson as his mouth tightened into a straight line. He looked away, but you knew he was playing along. Those eyes betrayed him with a hint of a smile.

“You told me if I got us out you’d take me on a date.”

“I said I'd kiss ye if we got out alive. Never knew how long it’d be til someone found us.”

“You did!” you agreed excitedly. “The door just needed hoisted up and back on the track. Which I did! Then we stumbled out and I practically threw myself in your arms for that kiss.”

“Wait, did we?” Sean turned back to you as the Ferris wheel slowed to another stop. Neither of you remembered it moving.

“No. Stupid ass Derek Sandoval was in the classroom waiting for you.”

“Oi! Watch now, he's still my mate.” Sean's turn to tease now.

“I bet he is.”

The two of you sat back in the car. Your fingers still entwined but the fright had melted away. Sean let out a long steady breath as he really looked out on the carnival and the multicolored lights as they danced around you. The stars blanketed the sky.

“Sean?”

His face heavenwards. “Yeah y/n?

“I think you owe me a kiss,” your words soft, almost a whisper.

Sean’s gaza came back down from the clouds. The music and noise from the crowds seemed to fade away as your breath caught in your throat. Without a second thought, he let go of your hand and put his arm around you. That soft mouth leaned over and almost melted with yours. Your bodies enveloped in a hug as Sean slid the tip of his tongue between your lips. Your own darted forward to fight with it.

Then the car hulked into motion again and you broke apart. A smirk on Sean's face revealed a dimple, and you joined in with a grin of your own.

“Well, that was worth a four year wait.”

Tag list: @joz-stankovich @robertsheehanownsmyass @magic-multicolored-miracle @elliethesuperfruitlover

[mimssides]

Never Met You

Chapter 4: Moving Forward

Moving on is not always a choice. If it is, they shall not feel bad because it does not mean forgetting what was. If it is not, they shall not feel bad for regretting it later on. It is okay to mourn over lost choices and times.

Green was sitting outside the stables. He had helped cleaning them and was now observing the few soldiers, guards and servants walking through the inner courtyard.

The king hadn’t left the castle in the last four days. He went from one meeting into the other and he had told Green to take a break today. Green wasn’t complaining but he was getting worried. He had heard what they were planning for. He had seen what Logan was trying to prevent and it got more and more clear that Logan was the last one who really tried to stop a war from breaking out.

With a huff Green eventually got up and back into his little quarter and cleaned for a bit. Some of the other guards found it weird how much Green seemed to enjoy moping the floor or cleaning his cabinets or even the toilet. They were even more weirded out by the fact that he had Patton explain every little step to him when he got started in his quarters. Sure, the kid was cute but reacting surprised when he told Green that he couldn’t use the steel wool to clean certain pans had been a little too much in their opinion. Green didn’t care about their opinion though and he was happy that the little boy had come to visit him in the mornings and evenings more often than not. His life was less lonely like this.

Whistling he finished scrubbing his counter and dried the wet surface. When that was done, he began to prepare four sandwiches and cut them into quarters as he had noticed that Patton tended to eat more if the food was cut into smaller pieces.

“Green!”

Green turned his head towards the door and watched Patton storm inside the room with a big smile. He had told him last evening that he would be home the whole day and had been rather sure that Patton would show up as soon as Ms Anouilh would let him leave.

“Hello, big guy!” Green said gently and caught Patton with one arm as he smash hugged his side. “You’re getting stronger each day! Have you grown again? Soon I will have to look up to you!”

Patton giggled, as Green picked him up and sat him down on the table, and told him: “No! That’s silly! People don’t grow so fast that you can see a different over night!”

“They don’t?” Green parroted with a grin and put the sandwiches onto a little wooden tray. “But I am sure that I once grew seven whole inches over night! All the grownups were very impressed and very polite to me, because they thought I had already grown up.”

“No that’s a lie!” Patton said loudly and jumped from the table to follow Green outside.

Green chuckled a little, waited for Patton to catch up and sat down on his bench close to the stables and watched the kid climb up next to him. Patton puffed his cheeks and frowned adorably and Green had a hard time to not laugh at his anger.

“Well, maybe a little,” Green admitted and put the sandwiches between them and motioned Patton to grab one. “But I did have a pretty big growth spurt once and the grownups treated me like a grownup after that. That is the absolute truth.”

“Buf why? You wewe jus’ a kid!” Patton asked with a full mouth.

A shrug. Green looked over the courtyard and took a sandwich. He had never asked himself that question. Maybe he should have.

“I don’t know,” Green admitted and looked down to Patton. “Maybe because I felt like I needed to be a grownup and the grownups needed me to be one.”

For a moment there was just Patton’s chewing and the busy noises of the courtyard. Green didn’t hear either properly. Images were taking up all his senses and he could hear the colour red take up all of his mind. It was gruesome and cruel. The nightmares were worse. Especially when he was alone.

Gulp.

Green blinked and was back in reality. Patton wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up on the bench. Gently, oh so gently he pressed himself against Green’s side and patted his back with one hand.

“I don’t need you to be a grownup. You can be a kid with me!” Patton said warmly.

It wasn’t that easy. But for the morning Green would play with Patton and let the child distract him from his worries.

“Careful!” Green laughed as he caught the ball Patton threw into his direction.

He managed to catch it despite the rather bad throw from the boy and showed him again how he could throw a little safer, before he threw the ball back to Patton. This time Patton managed to catch it and immediately threw it back to Green just as badly as before.

A few weavers were laughing at the two playing together. Patton’s joy had been known all around but combined with the silly stranger the child was beyond recognition. He was running and shouting around, his arms always moving and his little legs bouncing with energy. It had nothing in common with the smiling but quiet boy who was sitting between them and holding their wool or rearranging their spools. This child was alive and happy and it was nice to see at least something good in times like these.

Green threw the ball once more, this time it flew a little too far and Patton turned around to go and get it.

***

“Careful with the street, kid! Look out for carriages!” Green shouted and watched Patton stop and look to both sides of the street before he crossed it.

Green sighed an walked a few steps back from the road. It was possibly smarter to change the game for now, he mused thinking about how Patton squinted his eyes together when he was looking for the ball. It was something – people did when they couldn’t see it properly and Green suspected that Patton was rather short-sighted.

“The boy seems to have found a liking to you.”

Green spun around and saw the Royal Advisor standing in front of him. Hastily, he bowed his head and straightened his posture. Janus raised an eyebrow at the gesture and motioned for him to stop.

“How may I be of service?” Green asked.

Janus shook his head and looked over the street to Patton.

“You are off duty. The king would not like for me to go against his orders.”

Visibly relaxing Green’s shoulders dropped and he followed Janus’s eyes and watched Patton picking up the ball. A little sloppily he brushed over it and then shouted to Green: “It’s dirty! I’m gonna wash it!”

“That’s good Patton! Just be careful!”

A “yes” followed and the boy was already running over the courtyard to the fountain. Green sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Gingerly, he looked back to Janus who motioned towards the bench, where he and Patton had eaten before.

With Green’s nod they walked back and sat down. Green could feel Janus’s eyes on him and tried not to get too tense around him. He had felt the shift in attitude towards him after Roman and Virgil had arrived and he had yet to figure out if that was a good thing or not.

“Is Patton often with you?”

Green pressed his lips together before it turned into a treacherous smile. Fondly, he watched the dirt on his shoes and said to Janus: “He comes over as much as he can. He likes the food I give him and how I love his stories.”

“The boy is around five,” Janus countered rather unimpressed. “None of his stories can possibly make any sense.”

Green chuckled and smirked at Janus.

“True. But that doesn’t mean they are not important to him. And I like him being around. Gives me something to do. Sense of purpose and all.”

“You have already a purpose. You are the king’s guard.”

For a moment Green mused over Janus’s stern words.

“That’s a job. A good one. An important one. One I like to do. But how long are you planning to keep me here? How long will you accept a man you know nothing about and can’t learn anything about? The Prince and his chaperon don’t approve of me. It’s a question of time until I will be gone. I don’t blame you for it, I just wish I knew what game you are playing.”

If you move your hand, you can see the muscles just work beneath the skin of the back of your hand. It was quite beautiful Green thought and licked his lips.

“But the kid is our future,” Green continued and met Janus’s eyes again. “He will outlive us all if we are doing our jobs right. He should outlive us all. He’s a good kid. He’s kind and funny. In both ways of the word. I cannot help myself but care about him and that’s going to last no matter where I end up being. So, yeah.”

There was a long pause. Janus stared and Green held his look quite effortlessly.

“You sound just like the king,” Janus said blankly.

Green shrugged and looked over the street where Patton was coming from.

“Our king,” Green said and stood up, “has the right idea to try and do anything to stop a war from happening. The kids, the adolescents, the adults and the elders should not have to suffer through a war. And I think that the king’s court would do good to support him in that endeavour.”

And finally, he looked at the Royal Advisor one last time before he went back to Patton: “Nor the court should have to suffer through another tragedy. No child on earth should ever have to suffer through what you and the Prince must have seen.”

***

 Royal Advisor Jove Celer was up early on his round through the palace. He had taken Janus with him and they had just reached the east wing when he heard something move behind him.

 “You broke your oath.”

 Jove turned around and found █████ ██████ █████ stand in front of them. He was still wearing a sleep gown and his face was devoid of emotion. Jove frowned and Janus beside him began to shiver. Something was wrong, very wrong.

 “Follow me,” █████ said and began walking toward the south wing; the quarters of the royal couple.

 Jove and Janus followed the fast pace █████ set and entered the quarters of the king and queen. And as they came Jove noticed how the guards weren’t here anymore and he began to think of why that would be.

 “I sent them to search all the exits from the castle, the town and town walls. Maybe we can still find who did this,” █████ said without looking back to Jove.

 Did what? Jove wanted to ask but remained silent as the boy halted in front of his Roman’s parent’s bedchamber. █████ looked over his shoulder up to Jove and then down to Janus. Gently he motioned for Janus to come and stand to his right and Janus followed hesitantly.

 With his left hand █████ reached for the door knob and with his right hand he shielded Janus’s eyes.

 “You shall not have to see this.”

 Then █████ opened the door.

 The first thing Jove registered, was that the furniture visible from his point of view was wrecked. The second thing was the blood on the wall. The third thing was whimpering. Roman’s whimpering.

 He stormed inside. He instinctively looked towards the noise and found the young Crown Prince kneeling in front of his parent’s bed next to the – next to the mutilated corpses of King Aneas and Queen Rhea. It was a picture Jove would never forget. His oldest friend lifeless, bloodied on the floor his younger only son crying tears on his chest and grappling his wife’s hand like a lifeline.

 “What is it? What happened? Roman is crying, isn’t he? Why won’t you let me see?” Janus asked from behind while Jove tried to comprehend what he was looking at.

 It kept him too distracted from noticing how his son fought himself free of █████’s grip and went after him.

 And then Janus saw and screamed. Screamed and ran to Roman. Took him in his arms and wrestled him away from the corpses. He told him to breathe, to look at him, turned his face away from the scene whenever he wanted to look back. Ever so slowly Janus led him away to █████’s side and exchanged a look with █████. For the first time this morning █████’s expression changed and he gave Janus a weak smile.

 “Thank you, Royal Advisor Janus.”

 Roman’s sob grew louder and Janus and Jove stared at █████ with horror in their eyes.

 █████ took a deep breath and turned towards Jove. He folded his hands behind his back and held his chin high. Despite only being a child of twelve years old and wearing a white nightgown, Jove had never seen someone looking as regal and determined as him in that very moment.

 “Royal Advisor Jove of the late King Aneas,” █████ said firmly despite his voice jumping at the “late”, “you will aid me form a royal council to help me rule until I will be of legal age to rule and decide on my own. And you will aid me uncover who was responsible for the late King and Queen’s assassination. And Royal Advisor Janus, you will aid me by getting my ███████ some water and get him to our Court Physician. Am I understood?”

 “Yes, ████ ███████,” father and son said in unison.

***

Janus had not been thinking about Logan. He had been reminded of a man long gone who had had a fight just like this with Janus’s father a few days before his and the queen’s lives had been so abruptly taken.

___

Link for AO3, Taglist, Masterlist, and next Chapters are in my first reblog!

[stardustanddaffodils]

you asked for asks! random days-of-the-week asks: 1. what's your favorite day of the week based on how the name sounds/looks alone? 2. what's your fav day based on what you do during that day/where it is in the week/etc? 3. do you "start" the week on monday or sunday?? (there's only one right answer to no.3 /hj)

thank youuu :D

1) hmmmm, that's a cool one- tuesday has a nice sound to it ig? and monday is cool bc in latin it's dies lunae which means day of the moon- i could say so much abt the meanings of days of the week. i will ramble about that now

okay so in latin the days of the week are dies solis (day of the sun, sunday), dies lunae (day of the moon, monday), dies martis (day of Mars, tuesday), dies mercurii (day of Mercury, wednesday), dies iovis (day of Jove/Jupiter, thursday), dies veneris (day of Venus, friday) and dies saturnii (day of saturn, saturday). and at first these don't seem too connected to the english versions- spanish, definitely, but not english.

but!! then you look at the corresponding gods/week days in norse mythology!! and i don't remember these as well bc i take latin and we only talked about this once but basically - monday and sunday and saturday i don't remember, if there even is something to remember. but mars' equivalent would be tyr would be tyr's day becomes tuesday. mercury becomes oden/woden becomes woden's day becomes wednesday. jupiter = thor = thor's day = thursday. and i don't entirely remember friday, but i think it's venus = freya = freya's day = friday? so!! yeah :D

2) uhhh- yikes. hmm, maybe saturday or friday? saturdays kinda suck bc i always feel super drained at the end of the week, and fridays still have school, but on both i don't have school the next day which means it's just generally less stressful- i'm gonna say friday bc saturday means weekend means family time is expected

3) monday. sunday is just the day where i do all the work i put off all weekend and panic because in a few hours i'll have to sleep and when i wake up the world will exist again kmdjmdjmj

would love to hear your opinions on these? :D

[babysizedfics]

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Chapter 7: Sweet and Sour

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Patton feels bittersweet, Virgil likes rattles, Roman wants milk, and Logan bottle-feeds the baby.

Chapter word count: 6,000

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warning: One bit was so cute that I squealed loud enough to make myself dizzy. Be warned.

oOo

‘Love you, baby,’ Patton called back to the staircase. He remained completely still, waiting in nervous anticipation and praying that he would hear a response.

Then, thankfully, a tiny, ‘Wuvoo,’ returned and it soothed the ache in his chest slightly.

With a far more relieved sigh than he would have liked to admit, Patton continued his journey to Roman’s bedroom. He could hear Logan murmuring words of comfort to Virgil, and there was simply no excuse for the way it twisted Patton’s stomach. Wasn’t he the one who was so eager to get Virgil to overcome his separation anxiety? Wasn’t he the one who had encouraged various activities that would hopefully have resulted in Logan being more at ease with the act of caregiving?

And yet seeing Virgil have no negative response to Patton leaving him and cuddling up to Logan had kindled a bitter fire in Patton’s stomach that, try as he might, he could not snuff out. 

Seeing Virgil literally shy away from Patton had been heartwrenching. His own baby, hiding from him.

Patton swallowed past the aching lump in his throat as he approached Roman’s door. It would be no good to cry in front of his little prince.

‘Kiddo,’ Patton called with a gentle knock on the door. When there was no answer, he spoke through the wood louder, ‘Roman, are you okay?’

After a few seconds of silence, Patton threw the door open, scared that Roman was hurt.

The prince was merely hunched over his workbench, obviously deep in concentration.

‘Darling, I’m coming over,’ Patton said louder, approaching the workbench.

The lack of response didn’t surprise him. It wasn’t uncommon for Roman to be so engrossed in a project that he lost awareness of his surroundings. Worrying as he had first found the state, Logan had carefully explained to Patton that this was known as “hyperfocus” and as long as they checked on Roman to make sure he wasn’t foregoing his basic needs, it could be entirely healthy. Patton caught a quick glimpse of purple and black material in Roman’s hands before patting his shoulder to get his attention.

Roman instantly yelped and threw himself on top of the bench, hiding the pile of fabric under his torso. ‘Don’t look!’

Without a moment’s hesitation, Patton slapped his hands over his eyes. ‘Okay, I’m not looking, I’m not looking!’ He wouldn’t overstep his son’s boundaries.

‘Oh, it’s just you. It’s cool, Padre, you can look. I just finished!’

When Patton pulled his fingers down, the workbench was clear of the body that had laid across it so hastily before. He noticed that the fabric Roman had been working on was rather familiar.

‘Is that… Virgil’s hoodie?’

‘It’s a junior version!’ Roman proudly proclaimed, holding up an exact replica of Virgil’s hoodie - besides the fact that it was missing the drawstrings and the zipper. And it was only big enough for a newborn baby.

Patton smiled encouragingly and did his best to be gentle when he said, ‘That’s beautiful, Ro. But Virgil isn’t physically a baby, I’m not sure he can fit into that.’

‘It’s not for Vee,’ Roman chuckled, then reached to the other side of his workbench and held up a pile of grey fluff. Patton recognised it instantly.

‘You fixed Meeko!’

Roman nodded. ‘I made him a little hoodie so him and Virge can match. And…’ As Roman shook the toy slightly, a faint rattle sounded from it.

‘Oh my gosh,’ Patton gasped through a wide smile, ‘he’s a rattle!’ Virgil would love it!

The smile on Roman’s face was a little shyer than was normal for the usually confident creative side. He dressed Meeko in the hoodie with nimble fingers. ‘Just, you know,’ Roman stalled by fidgeting with the plaid hood on the toy, ‘to say sorry for yesterday, I guess.’

Patton fought to retain the genuity of his smile. Apparently everyone was maturing besides him. Virgil had seemingly overcome his separation anxiety, Logan had learned to be more affectionate with his boys, and now even Roman was learning to apologise for teasing his brother. And that only made the bitter concoction of jealousy and dejection in Patton’s belly bubble away all the more viciously. In spite of that:

‘That’s wonderful, sweetheart,’ Patton beamed. ‘He’s going to love it.’

‘Yeah!’ Roman agreed enthusiastically, jumping up from his seat. His shyness had apparently been chased away by Patton’s praise. ‘Where is he? I wanna give it to him!’

‘He’s in the living room with Logan. We’re about to have a family Winnie the Pooh party!’

‘Oh, okay,’ Roman muttered, turning away. ‘I’ll just give it to him after, then.’

It wasn’t the excited response Patton had expected from Roman. Both of the boys loved Winnie the Pooh. Patton thought Roman would have been bouncing off of the walls by now. ‘Don’t you want to come to the party?’

‘Am I invited?’ Roman spun around and looked at Patton with wide eyes, finally appearing excited about the idea.

Did Roman think they were leaving him out? With a frown, Patton said, ‘Sweetheart, it’s family time.’

What really broke Patton’s heart was the way Roman deflated at that.

‘Of course you’re invited.’ Patton held his arms open wide. ‘Come here.’

Honestly, the cuddle wasn’t optional. Whether or not Roman had moved over to him, Patton would have been wrapping his arms around his little prince as tight as he could bear. Though the haste with which Roman launched himself into Patton’s arms did make it a whole lot easier.

‘You’re just as much a part of this family as any of us, little prince.’ Patton pressed a firm kiss to Roman’s temple.

‘I’m part of the family,’ Roman whispered into Patton’s shoulder. It was spoken like he didn’t believe it and was willing the phrase into his mind.

Patton squeezed him tighter to match the squeezing of his heart. His own son had not believed he was part of the family. How could Patton have allowed such a thing? Why hadn’t he noticed? Had he failed Roman as a Dad?

It wasn’t until Roman winced and ducked away from his hand that Patton realised he had been running his fingers through Roman’s very precious and carefully-styled hair.

‘Hey, watch the locks, Pops!’ The hug was broken as Roman stepped back.

And normally that was fine. Normally, Patton didn’t bat a single eyelash to how protective Roman was over his hair. He would just giggle, pull his hand back, and move on. But right now that had stung far more than he was able to explain. Especially to Roman’s concerned look.

‘Patton, are you okay?’

Biting his lip, Patton made a timid request: ‘Do you… Could you be little right now, Ro?’

He didn’t blame Roman for being shocked by the question. He never pushed Roman’s littlespace. It was different with Virgil; it was part of Patton’s job as his caregiver to incite his regression if he noticed the younger side was particularly anxious or overwhelmed. But Roman’s littlespace was entirely on his terms; it was voluntary and not necessarily done to relieve him of emotional distress in any way. Roman was the only one to decide when he became a child.

So was it selfish of Patton to ask for it?

‘I’m sorry. Don’t worry about it.’ Patton shook his head and looked to the floor. ‘Your silly old dad is just -’

‘Hi, Dad!’ Roman quickly interjected. He always greeted everyone again when he became little, and Patton always found it adorable. ‘I’m little now!’

With a rush of comfort, Patton looked up to see that Roman’s face was indeed overtaken by the familiar childish excitement. This was what felt right to him, no matter what. He couldn’t always handle the feelings that swirled around in his belly, but, by Jove, Patton could handle taking care of his little ones.

‘Hey there, sweetie pie! How’s my favourite little prince doing?’

‘Good!’ Roman bounced in place with a bright grin. ‘I really wanna give Vee his present! And then I’m gonna get him to bounce with me like Tigger! Th-then - then - then we can go on an expotition!’

It was a struggle not to melt into an adoring puddle on the spot. The slight stuttering informed Patton that Roman was incredibly excited, and it was just adorable that it was because he wanted to be with his baby brother. But there was the issue of Virgil’s newly younger mental age.

‘That sounds super fun, Ro,’ Patton agreed. ‘But I’m not sure if Virgil will be able to do all of that with you.’

Witnessing Roman go still and slump in on himself was a true tragedy. ‘How come?’

‘Your Mom and I did something new with him and it made him regress a bit younger,’ Patton explained, praying that this would not rekindle in Roman any jealousy of his little brother. ‘I think he will need lots of quiet and lots of cuddles. Do you think you can be a good big brother and be extra gentle around him today?’ Then Patton added, ‘He’s going to need a really good role model to look up to,’ remembering that he read something about using this phrase to help older siblings feel better about a baby in the family.

‘Yeah!’ Roman yelled. If anything he appeared even more excited after this revelation. His hand smacked over his mouth as he realised his mistake. ‘Oops, sorry.’ A muffled giggle came through his fingers, followed by an exaggerated whisper of, ‘Yeah, I’m gonna be the bestest brother ever-est.’

Patton chuckled and reached out to huddle Roman into his arms again. ‘That’s already true, baby.’

He was thankful that Roman simply hugged him back, and didn’t comment on the new nickname that had slipped through Patton’s lips quite unconsciously.

The hug did not last for nearly as long as Patton would have liked, but Roman was clearly eager to see his brother and was all but vibrating on the spot. Even if he had tried, Patton was sure he wouldn’t have been able to hold him back.

‘Hang on, sweetie,’ Patton called as Roman dragged him to the door. ‘How long have you been working on Meeko?’

Roman paused and frowned thoughtfully as he looked down at the toy in his hand. It was clear after a few seconds that he had lost track of time while working. It was a fairly common occurrence.

‘Do you remember when you started?’

‘Before lunch,’ Roman said quite proudly.

So Roman had been working, likely nonstop, for about 5 hours, Patton realised. It was important that he kept his worry from showing on his face as that might have made Roman think he was disappointed with him. He wasn’t at all, he just needed to make sure Roman was healthy. ‘Okay, little prince, let’s stop by the bathroom before we go down and I’ll get you some juice in a bit. Did you eat?’

Roman pointed to a plate on his desk that had crumbs on it.

‘Good boy,’ Patton praised with a warm smile. He gave Roman one more tight hug before taking Roman’s free hand once more and leading them through the house.

After a short bathroom trip and with no small amount of rambling from Roman about how cool Tigger was, they continued on to the living room. As they approached the door, Patton could hear Logan speaking in a low, hushed tone - it was identical in tone to when he counted aloud to calm Virgil down, and Patton felt the strangest thrill that his baby might have missed him after all if he needed to be soothed.

‘Knock, knock,’ Patton announced as he led Roman into the living room.

He was not met with the sight of Virgil crying and reaching out to him as he was so used to seeing. Instead, he and Roman had walked in on what looked to be an incredibly intimate moment between the baby and his mama.

Logan was sitting in the corner seat of the couch, reading from a large board book (which Patton did not recognise). In his lap, Virgil was curled up against his chest with his eyes closed and his pacifier bobbing slowly in his mouth. His fingers were wrapped around the handle loosely.

‘Pooh and his friends were still planting seeds when Kanga happened by,’ Logan read in a voice so soft it could have been a whisper.

No one got to hear what Kanga did next, as Logan suddenly noticed the two new presences in the room.

‘Oh,’ Logan murmured, his cheeks dusting a faint pink. ‘Greetings, you two.’

‘Hi, Mom!’

Patton quickly squeezed Roman’s hand to get his attention and mimed that Roman should keep his voice down because of the sleeping baby. ‘Remember what we talked about, honey?’ he gently reminded him.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Roman whispered, then looked over to the two on the couch. ‘Sorry, Vee.’

Virgil’s eyes remained closed and he made no movement. It was a near-identical image to the way Patton had found them cuddling earlier. It was undeniably sweet, though this time it was quite tainted by the frustratingly persistent sinking feeling in Patton’s stomach. If nothing else, Patton could at least credit himself for focussing on the positive, and not letting his involuntary bitterness permeate into the atmosphere of the room.

‘Mama Logan has done it again,’ Patton whispered, dropping Roman’s hand and reaching into his pocket to bring out his phone. Jealousy or not, this had to be documented. ‘And you said I was the sleep siren.’

Logan looked down at the boy in his lap with a breathy chuckle. He closed the book in his hands. ‘I had no idea he was so sleepy.’

‘He wasn’t before,’ Patton hummed, snapping a couple of photos with a soft smile.

‘Perhaps the reading has tired him out,’ Logan suggested, though it sounded uncertain.

‘Nah, it’s ‘cause your voice is nice.’

Both Patton and Logan turned to Roman in surprise. Had Roman - who was typically nothing short of stubborn in admitting the merits of others - just complimented Logan?

Apparently oblivious to the reaction from his caregivers, Roman skipped over to the sofa - the poster boy of childish innocence. Sparing a moment to place the hoodie-clad Meeko on the armrest, Roman turned to the boy on Logan’s lap.

‘Hello, baby,’ he whispered. Then he slowly reached out to stroke his fingers over Virgil’s hair as gently as if he were handling the most fragile small animal.

Patton held his breath and pulled his lips into a tight line to avoid making any noises that betrayed his excitement. With a swift swipe on his phone screen, he began recording a video.

‘Are you being gentle with your little brother, Roman?’ At Logan’s sly side glance, Patton knew he had clocked the video recording.

On his screen, Patton saw Roman nod without looking away from his brother. ‘I’m being really soft, look.’ He raised his hand from Virgil’s hair and lowered it again to stroke it slowly.

It was indeed a gentle touch, as the younger side made no sign of waking or disturbance to his sleep. Roman looked up at Patton with joy sparkling in his eyes.

Patton resigned himself to the fate of having multiple adorableness-induced heart attacks a day.

‘Well done, little prince,’ Logan murmured. There was a blur of bright colour on the phone screen as Logan dropped the board book to the cushion, and the unfamiliar cover caught Patton’s attention as the logical side continued talking. ‘Virgil is a lot younger than usual today, so we need to be extra quiet and calm. In fact, I believe he’s only -’

‘Logan, where did you get that book?’ Patton interrupted.

Silence fell, only broken by Virgil sighing deeply in his sleep. The look of guilt on Logan’s face was displayed quite clearly on the phone screen. Patton looked over the device to see it even more prominent in real life.

‘I, um -’ Logan cleared his throat gently and shifted a little to duck his head into Virgil’s hair. The height difference being so uneven meant Logan only succeeded in hiding his chin. ‘I summoned it.’

Patton’s own shock was reflected in Roman’s dramatic gasp. He looked delighted at this news.

‘Mom summoned!’ Roman giggled, looking over to Patton with a mischievous smile. ‘Dad, Mom broke the rule!’

‘Quiet voices, sweetie,’ Patton whispered, though it was too late. The auto-focus of the camera blinked as Virgil’s body began shifting slightly on Logan’s lap.

‘Mama?’ 

Patton quickly buried his phone in his pocket, knowing that Virgil took after his Mama when it came to being shy on camera.

‘Mama’s here, sweetheart,’ Logan assured their littlest one.

Being a few feet away from the rest of his family, Patton had quite the vantage point to witness all of their reactions. And so the way Roman’s eyes snapped onto Logan when he had referred to Virgil as “sweetheart” was achingly obvious to Patton. As was the reason behind his sudden pout and his whinge of, ‘Dad, my legs are tired.’

It seemed Patton wasn’t the only one who had been bitten by the green-eyed monster that evening.

‘Poor little prince,’ Patton cooed and moved to sit on the couch beside Logan. He held his arms out to Roman. ‘Come here, cutie - oof!’

It was worth a few bruises on his thighs to have his 5’11” kiddo practically pounce onto his lap and send them both tumbling back against the couch cushion.

‘Baba,’ Virgil’s quiet voice babbled.

Patton pulled both him and Roman upright to look at his sweet baby. ‘Hello, tiny stormcloud.’

How exactly was Virgil tiredly rubbing at his eyes so adorable? Patton had long since given up trying to answer these sorts of questions. It just was.

‘Hey, Vee!’ Roman whispered loudly, waving at his brother. ‘You’re a smaller baby today.’

At his brother’s voice, Virgil pulled his hand back down to blink slowly at Roman. Without responding, he whined a little and dropped his head back to Logan’s chest. His Piglet toy hid his face.

‘It’s all right, Roman,’ Logan said soothingly, ‘Vee is just a little more shy than usual.’

‘Oh…’ After a moment of quiet, Roman leaned against Patton more heavily. ‘Okay.’

Patton tightened his arms around Roman to try to comfort him.

‘You summoned?’ he mouthed silently to Logan over Roman’s shoulder, unable to ignore it anymore. It was completely unheard of for Logan to break the house rule about summoning and bending reality only in emergencies. He was the one who had enforced the rule so strictly in the first place.

‘Uh, did you have something you wanted to give your brother, Roman?’ Logan blurted, entirely ignoring Patton despite clearly having seen the question.

Time froze for Patton as he saw Roman reach out to delicately hold Virgil’s shoulders, then lean forward and press a soft kiss to his head. Virgil hummed and lowered his toy to smile at Roman when he had pulled back.

‘Wo-Wo!’

‘Oh my gosh.’ It was a good thing Patton was already sitting down.

‘That was very lovely, little prince.’ Logan’s voice was far less squeaky than Patton’s. ‘But what about the friend that you put on the armrest?’

‘Oh yeah!’ Roman gasped, apparently unaware of his influence on Patton’s blood pressure.

Leaning over Logan’s lap (and causing Virgil to push further against Logan’s chest), Roman grabbed Meeko and hesitantly held the toy in front of Virgil. It seemed he had lost some confidence as he fidgeted with the stuffed raccoon. ‘Um, I fixed Meeko and gave him a cool hoodie like yours.’

It took a few seconds for Virgil to lift his head back off of Logan’s chest, but when he did his face lit up. Pale hands slowly dropped Piglet to the couch as Virgil timidly reached his hands out for the toy.

Once Roman had handed him the present, Virgil’s dimples popped up with a smile. ‘Burble.’

‘Clever baby,’ Patton cooed. ‘It’s purple just like your -’ he paused at Logan’s pointed look towards Roman, ‘- your favourite colour!’ He thought it was a pretty smooth save.

The truly endearing moment happened when Virgil hugged the toy tight and it rattled at the movement.

Virgil gasped through his pacifier and looked down at it in shock.

‘Oh my, what was that, Virgil?’ Logan asked, clearly feigning excitement for the baby’s benefit.

A more pronounced rattling sounded as Virgil shook the toy more energetically. Then he squealed in what Patton assumed was excitement. His body started bouncing lightly on Logan’s lap as he held the toy up to his mama’s ears and rattled it again.

‘That’s a nice sound,’ Logan agreed with an encouraging smile.

Then Virgil held the toy up to Roman’s ears and shook it again.

Roman giggled at his little brother’s antics. ‘It’s a rattle, Vee!’

At last, Virgil turned to Patton and held the toy up to him, whining, ‘Baba.’

Getting the hint, Patton leaned forward so that his ear was by the toy and Virgil rattled it loudly again. Patton was glad that his happy squeaks were loud enough that he could still hear them over the toy.

‘Do you like it, sweetie?’ Patton asked, sitting back to observe Virgil’s adorable wriggling. He still shook the toy with both hands and giggled.

‘Can you remember the word we say when someone gives us a present?’ Logan prompted.

Virgil just fell into Logan’s chest, suckling his pacifier as he kept rattling his toy.

‘Sweetheart,’ Logan whispered, his voice sounding a little scratchy, ‘can you say thank you to your brother?’

‘Wawaba,’ Virgil muttered as he played.

Looking back up at Roman with a smile, Logan translated, ‘Virgil says thank you.’

There was a slight crack in his voice and Patton reached out to rub his hand over Logan’s chest as he cleared it. ‘Are you getting a cold, Lo?’

‘No, I strained my voice while reading to him,’ Logan explained quietly, then sent a pleading glance to Patton. ‘Could you perhaps get me a drink?’

‘Of course, Loganberry. What would you like?’

‘Hot water with lemon and honey would be perfect.’ Logan’s hand settled over Patton’s, holding it to his chest for a moment longer. ‘Thank you.’

‘Me too! Me too!’ Roman cried, waving his arm up in the air as if Patton wouldn’t be able to see him otherwise (despite the fact that he was acting as the creative side’s chair at that moment).

‘Yes, little prince.’ With no small amount of reluctance, Patton pulled his hand away from Logan’s chest and nudged Roman to get him off of his lap. ‘I’ll get you a sippy cup with apple juice.’

‘Perhaps Virgil would like a bottle of milk,’ Logan suggested.

Feeling a twinge of guilt at not having thought of that himself, Patton nodded and stood from the couch. Then he was stopped by Roman tugging on his wrist.

He turned back to the little with a questioning look. ‘Are you all right, little prince?’

Roman, strangely, looked shy. His eyes spared a side glance to Virgil (who was still rattling away and appearing completely enthralled by the sound) before they looked back up at Patton. ‘Can I have milk too?’

Though Logan didn’t make any kind of comment on the question, Patton could tell he was thinking the same thing as him. Roman was obviously getting jealous of Virgil and apparently wanted to act younger to combat that.

‘You can have whatever you like, sweetie,’ Patton said, patting Roman’s cheeks lightly and pressing a kiss to his forehead. When he pulled away he was glad to see the previous timidity replaced by happiness.

‘Warm milk and honey?’ Roman asked with an excited smile.

Patton returned it. ‘That sounds lovely. Do you want to stir in the honey yourself?’

‘Yes, please!’

Before leaving, Patton’s instinct was to reassure Virgil that he would be back within a few minutes. Though the baby’s attention was entirely held by the rattle. It would be best to slip out unnoticed and avoid any upset. (And avoid finding out if there would not be any upset.)

Making Logan and himself hot lemon water and heating the oat milk for the boys (he had sworn they still had a carton of Roman’s almond milk but he couldn’t find it anywhere), Patton had an opportunity to properly collect himself.

As he cut into a lemon, the rind burst with a spray of juice and the fresh scent of it rushed into Patton’s nose. It was intense and pulled at his chest as if a weight was attached to it and forcing him back to earth.

It took a moment for him to realise he must have been lost in his head with all of his insecurity and guilt. So Patton decided he needed to practise the mindfulness he and Logan always pushed so adamantly onto Virgil.

Remembering a grounding technique he had seen someone do on youtube, he cut a wedge of the fruit and without a moment’s hesitation, he bit into it - skin and all.

The bitterness attacked his taste buds and he winced, sinking his teeth further into the zesty flesh against his distaste. The juice stung a mouth ulcer that had been bothering him, but his head was suddenly crystal clear and his awareness sharp. He blew out a strong breath and tossed the wedge in the compost disposal, licking the last of the sour taste from his lips.

As he went back to stirring the oat milk, everything that had transpired over the past hour suddenly seemed so much less critical. Why had he been worried that Virgil no longer loved him? Of course he did! And Patton really was proud that Virgil had seemingly moved past the separation anxiety. It had proven to be less than ideal whenever Patton needed to go to the bathroom or make food, and any indication that his little stormcloud would suffer less from anxiety was positive.

Plus, seeing Virgil take to Logan so readily, and seeing Logan so comfortable in displaying affection was uplifting after the two’s awkward, rocky start when Logan had first become a caregiver. And Roman spending hours on fixing Meeko and adding the rattle to make his baby brother happy? That truly made Patton’s heart burst with love and pride for his little prince.

Ready to be back with his favourite people in the world, Patton returned to the living room with everyone’s drinks and the honey on a tray. Logan had evidently been reading to Virgil again as the regressor was slumped against his chest and blinking sleepily. Both Meeko and Piglet were huddled close to him as Logan’s soft voice filled the room.

It was a soothing image. Though it was tainted by Roman’s figure curled up on the other side of the couch, leaning away from the other two. The creative side was hunched over, resting his chin on his knees with a pout. 

‘Are you okay, Roman?’ Patton asked, walking carefully across to the coffee table where he placed the tray.

‘He wanted to play with Vee,’ Logan spoke for him, closing the board book once more. He continued despite the look of betrayal Patton could see crossing Roman’s face. ‘And I explained that Virgil is too young to bounce with him.’

‘But it’s a Winnie the Pooh party!’ Roman argued. ‘Tigger does loads of bouncing with Roo and Roo is really small.’

Patton smiled a little. The intention behind Roman’s suggestion was worthy of praise at least. ‘That’s very true. You’re so sweet to think of Virgil, honey.’

‘See!’ Roman stuck his tongue out at Logan.

‘But -’ Patton added, hating how Roman’s smile fell at the word, ‘- Piglet is very small too. And does Piglet like bouncing?’

After a few seconds of stubborn silence, Roman mumbled, ‘No.’

‘People don’t always like the same things, little prince. I’m sure you can think of something else you and Vee can do together.’

‘Of course he can,’ Logan agreed quietly, smoothing out a lock of Virgil’s hair that had stuck up from rubbing his head on Logan’s shoulder. ‘Roman is very creative and considerate, aren’t you, sweetheart?’

Roman absolutely beamed at the praise and lowered his legs back to the ground, sitting more upright. ‘Yeah, um, we can play with stuffies instead, Vee!’

The younger little raised his head at the suggestion seeming interested, but then he looked over at the coffee table and whined. The stuffies in his arms were hugged tighter.

‘I think we should have our drinks first,’ Patton said, understanding that Virgil wanted his bottle. ‘Can you be a big boy and come stir in everyone’s honey?’

Roman rushed over and, with Patton’s guidance, squeezed a good helping of honey into both Patton and Logan’s mugs and his sippy cup. When he reached for Virgil’s bottle to do the same, Patton quickly tugged his hand back. ‘No, sweetie, no honey for Vee.’

It was met with another whine from Virgil and a confused, ‘Why not?’ from Roman.

‘Babies can’t have honey,’ Patton explained easily with a hint of pride. He had done his research! ‘I read it online. It can make them sick and since Vee is a bit younger today, I thought just in case -’

‘Patton, my love,’ Logan’s voice interrupted him, much more low and gravelly than usual. It was probably because of his sore throat, but Patton couldn’t help but wish it made an appearance more often.

Did Logan even realise he had called Patton his love? The cool calmness of his features suggested otherwise. Patton himself could barely breathe at the term of endearment. He couldn’t imagine Logan consciously doing that and remaining completely calm.

‘Yes?’ Patton prompted, wishing Logan would repeat those words again.

‘Virgil may be a baby,’ Logan whispered his next words, ‘but he is not biologically infantile.’

Realisation slowly ebbed into Patton and he blushed. Perhaps he had gotten a little carried away in his baby research.

‘Give the poor boy some honey,’ Logan finished with an amused smile.

‘Sorry, I kind of forget.’ Patton giggled a bit at himself, unscrewing the lid of Virgil’s bottle to allow Roman to squeeze some honey into it.

‘Now we all match!’ Roman cried with a face splitting grin.

Swiping the honey bottle from his hand and squeezing a dab onto his fingertip, Patton replied, ‘We all match, my sweet little honeycomb.’ He poked the honey onto Roman’s nose and chuckled at his dramatic gasp.

‘Yuck, yuck, yuck,’ Roman muttered and wiped his nose on his sleeve with a sniffle.

The lids of the sippy cups and bottle were replaced quickly and Patton got Roman to shake them up while he passed Logan his mug.

As Logan had shifted to take his drink, Virgil’s diaper crinkled from beneath his onesie. The regressor sat more upright and made grabby hands at Patton, ‘Baba. Baba.’

‘Yes, baby, I’m just getting your bottle.’

His shirt was tugged from behind him and Patton stepped back to stop it from pulling so tightly against his neck, ignoring Logan’s quiet tut. The logical side had been trying to get Roman to stop tugging and poking the caregivers when he wanted attention, but Patton didn’t see that much harm in it. Virgil was allowed to whine and point at things, so why shouldn’t Roman be allowed to nudge them? It was one of the only things they could not agree on when it came to rules for their littles.

‘It’s fine,’ Patton insisted to Logan, then looked back to Roman, ‘What’s up, kiddo?’

Roman, already sipping at his milk, forewent any words and held Virgil’s bottle out to Patton.

After sparing a moment to stroke Roman’s cheek in thanks, Patton turned back to the couch, ready to sit down and take his baby into his arms and feed him as he had done so many times before.

Bottle-feeding had become a quintessential caregiving task for Patton since he had first done it all those weeks ago. It was initially done to calm Virgil down after a nightmare, but Patton had soon craved the feeling of immense tranquillity and love that had overwhelmed him as he held his baby and nursed his bottle. And so it became routine. It was enjoyable and comforting. It was important to him.

But seeing the way Logan’s arms tightened a little around the boy in his lap made Patton reconsider his eagerness to split them apart. Then, quite generously in his opinion, Patton offered, ‘Do you want to do it, Lo?’

The way Logan’s face brightened with a muted excitement chased away most of Patton’s disappointment.

‘If you do not mind,’ Logan whispered, clearly unwilling to betray how eager he was. He was sitting much more upright, at attention.

Patton smiled, passing the bottle into Logan’s hand and kneeling down to be closer to Virgil.

‘Hello, tiny stormcloud.’ Patton stroked his knuckle over Virgil’s cheek. ‘Mama is gonna give you your bottle this time, okay?’

Virgil closed his eyes and leaned into the caress of Patton’s finger. It took an awful lot of willpower, but Patton managed to pull his hand back and stand up again, leaving his baby in Logan’s responsibility. No, not his baby, Patton thought as he watched Logan take Virgil’s pacifier out and quickly replace it with the bottle with ease (he had probably been paying close attention whenever he had watched Patton doing the exact same). Not his baby. Their baby.

‘Dad?’

With a twinge of guilt, Patton realised he had been stood watching the bottle-feeding for a while and had forgotten that he had another little one to look after. Turning around, he saw that same timidity that he had seen a few minutes previously sully Roman’s expression.

‘I’m bored,’ Roman mumbled, his lips pressed up against the mouthpiece of his sippy cup.

Of course, sitting quietly while a baby was bottle-fed was probably not the most engaging activity for an older kiddo. Taking note of the jealousy that was clearly affecting Roman, Patton remembered reading that parents should spend some time bonding with an older sibling when the baby was busy. The advice was obviously intended for actual children, though that didn’t mean it couldn’t be effective with his little prince.

‘How about we bake some Winnie the Pooh cookies?’ Patton suggested with a big smile.

His enthusiasm was not reflected by Roman, who simply shrugged and said, ‘Okay.’

So Patton added, ‘Only big kids are allowed to bake, so this will be our special thing! Just you and me, little prince.’

‘Okay!’ Roman’s smile could have lit up the whole house. He bounced on his toes. ‘We can - we, um, we can make honeypot shaped ones and we can make the - the - the - the “haycorn” shaped ones too!’

‘That sounds wonderful, sweetie,’ Patton said, sure that it was past the point of trying to get Roman to be quiet around Virgil. The younger side didn’t seem bothered by it, at least. When Patton looked back at the pair on the couch, he was quite happily suckling at the bottle that Logan held for him. ‘Will you two be all right, Lo?’

The named side was focussing entirely on the baby in his arms and did not even look up to Patton when he muttered, ‘Uh, yes, sounds wonderful, Roman.’

Patton giggled as he was tugged out of the room by a very eager little prince. He had nothing to be anxious about. Logan was more than capable of looking after their baby.

With a rekindled sense of purpose, Patton stepped (or rather was dragged) into the kitchen, ready to devote his entire supply of fatherly attention to Roman.

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

AO3 link | Next chapter

[swan--writes]

Dewey x fem!reader based on You Had Me At Hello by A Day To Remember. The sappier the better because I want this man to be happy. 😭

I’d never heard this song before, but I was somewhat familiar with ADTR and wow they sound like high school. I’m not crying, you’re crying. Shut up.

Warnings: none

Words: ~935

There was a man who lived in your apartment building, and you loved him. You were, in fact, waiting for him to call.

You and Dewey had met at the mailboxes. He told you that he was waiting for an important letter, and you told him that you were too. Technically, that was true. It was just that the letter you were waiting for was his. You had spent the entire time you were talking silently praying that the mail carrier actually had mail for you, hoping you wouldn’t be caught in a lie. Fortunately, you did receive mail that day. Dewey did not.

The blush that rose to his cheeks was the most brilliant scarlet you had ever seen. You tried not to giggle too much.

Four months later, here you sat on your hotel room floor, waiting. Your work had sent you off to a conference, and much as Dewey had wanted to come with you, company policy wouldn’t have it. So you texted him once you got up to your room on the first of three nights and waited.

About an hour went by before your screen lit up. You set down your book and answered it on the first ring.

I’m missing you so much, I’ll see you die tonight…

“Hey!” You briefly scrunched your nose at how excited you sounded, but let it go quickly.

“Hey baby!” You giggled at his tone. “How’s your conference? You’re not having fun without me, are ya?”

Just so I can get to you before the sun will rise.

You groaned. “I wish. It’s just a bunch of stuffy chowderheads droning on and on about best practices and all the other things we’re all already doing.”

Dewey laughed. “‘Chowderheads’, huh?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean!” It took you until then to notice the sound of rushing air on his end. “Hey, am I on speaker?”

“…maybe?” He dragged out the word.

“No, why?” you complained.

And I’m wasting away, away from you.

“It’s for a good cause, trust me.” You made a disapproving noise, but let it go. “So, what are you wearing.”

“Ah, it’s game night, isn’t it? I’ll bet it’s game night. Is Ned there?”

“What? No. What?” There was humor in Dewey’s tone. You shook your head and waited for the sudden clanging on his end to stop. When it did, the background noise was all but gone. “There, I took you off speaker. Are you happy now?”

And I’m wasting away, away from you.

You laughed. “Very, thank you. What are you up to, anyway?”

There was a knock at the door. You ignored it.

“Oh, you know, this and that.” Another knock. “Are you gonna get that?” You narrowed your eyes curiously and pulled your phone away from your ear, then stood and walked to your door.

Dewey stood on the other side. Of course he did, the ridiculous man.

Would it be okay?

Normally Dewey was smiling when he greeted you, sometimes mischievously, sometimes childishly. Even when he was in a very bad mood, he tried for a smile. But now he was almost solemn. It was a vast contrast from his tone just moments before. But there he stood, eyes bright and focused on your face, jaw slack, mouth not quite open.

You let out a breath. You forgot to inhale again.

Would it be okay if I took your breath away?

“Hey,” he said quietly, sliding his phone into the front pocket of his bomber jacket. As if his sudden mood were contagious, you felt your throat tighten ever so slightly. You had never been much of a crier – mostly out of a teenage fear of being ‘one of those girls,’ whatever that meant – and had become an expert at hiding the tears when you felt them coming. So you stepped aside from the door and opened your arms.

Dewey crashed into you. The leather of his jacket was cold from the February air, but his hands were warm against your back and his neck was warm against your face.

What have I gotten myself into this time around?

“What happened?” His skin muffled the question.

Dewey kissed your hair a couple of times before answering. “I just missed you. I’m sorry.” He gave a halfhearted chuckle, clearly trying to lighten the mood again and pulled back. His hands lingered at your waist and you held onto his arms. Somehow the door to your room had closed, though you had no memory of the sound.

I know that I had sworn I’d never trust anyone again, but I didn’t have to.

“What? You never have to apologize for missing me. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You leaned up and he took the cue, leaning down to kiss you. He was so, so warm.

“And you don’t have to apologize for driving two hours in the dark, in the middle of winter to see me,” you added. “How did you know what room I’d be in, anyway?”

Dewey pulled one of his hands away and dug around one of the pockets of his jeans. “Oh! You wrote down your booking information.” He held up a piece of paper triumphantly. “You shouldn’t do that, you know, anyone could find you.”

“By Jove, you’re right.” You snatched the paper from him. “I shall consume the paper at once. Fetch some water.” Dewey laughed and caught you when you tried to step away.

“Too late. I’ve got you now.”

“Good heavens–” he cut you off with another kiss. You let him.

You had me at hello.

“Y’know, I’m glad I lied about that letter,” he said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I’m glad I did too.”

Dewey pulled away in mock indignation. “Hold up, you lied too?”

You had me at hello.

“Well, I just wanted to meet you!” you said defensively. “I’d seen you around, and…” Now Dewey was laughing. You smacked his arm playfully. “Be nice.

“Yeah, yeah.” He kissed the hand you had just smacked him with. “So…”

“…so.”

“Any chance you could hide me in here for the next two days?”

You shook your head, but led him farther into the room. “Maybe.”

You had me at hello.

.

.

Please reblog, if you are so moved.

Tags List: @skiddyyo @a-okay-rj @geeky-marie @darkblueeyedperson @hannah-de-lioncourt @ironmansuucks @missihart23 @ballerinafairyprincess @thewolfisapartofmysoul

[coldflame96]

Turnabout Parent Trap, chapter 20 (the end!)

I finally finished this bad boy and the last chapters a bit shorter so I thought I’d do something a little different. Don’t read if you haven’t read the rest of it please. 

It’s been a long journey. Thank you for sharing it with me. :)

Read the full thing on AO3 here

February 11, 2029

Gatewater Hotel Imperial Hall- Los Angeles, Japanifornia

Phoenix was nervous. Well, not nervous exactly, but more just excited. He was getting married! Not for the first time, but hopefully the last.

“Nick, they’re almost ready for you,” Maya came in. And then she gave him an unimpressed look. “What have I told you about messing with your tie? And your hair. Look at you, you’re a wreck! Don’t make me get my sister in here!”

“No thanks,” he muttered, “You’re bad enough.” And got a light smack on the head for that. He saw how the deep purple she was wearing brought out the bronze tones in her skin as she readjusted his tie and smiled.

“You look beautiful, Maya.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. My wife’s a dress designer.” And then she smirked. “Besides, you’re the star here. Miles won’t know what hit him.”

“He’s seen me like this before.”

“Sure, but you look way better now than you did at 21. I saw the pictures.”

“Wow,” he scoffed, offended. “That’s-“ And then he paused. “Wait, really? I’m 36, how is that even possible?”

She shrugged. “Some people get better with age.” And then she gave him a smug look. “You were pretty dorky before.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Y’know,” she started, starting on his hair now, “I’m kinda surprised you’re even doing all this again. Kinda figured Miles wouldn’t wanna bother.”

Funny story about that. “It was his idea, actually.”

“Really? Wow. And here I thought he was the pragmatic one. Guess he is a romantic, after all.”

She finally took her fingers out of his hair, and he made to run a hand through when she smacked it away.

“I just fixed it, Nick!” she glared. “If you mess it up again, I’ll kill you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled.

He heard a piano start playing and Maya grinned. “Well, that’s your cue.” And then she offered up her elbow. “You ready?”

He took a deep breath, and then linked his arm with hers. He was born ready.

~~~~~~~~~

Apollo sat next to his sibling, who practically had stars in their eyes as their parents exchanged vows at the altar. The old bearded guy gave them permission to kiss and they did eagerly which of course was something he’d seen many times at this point, but he clapped along with everyone else.

Trucy giggled from next to him and he looked at them curiously. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” they shook their head, “It’s all just kinda crazy, isn’t it? Two years ago, I didn’t even know you existed. Now we’re at our parents wedding.” She laughed again. “It’s all just so backwards!”

He rested an arm on their shoulder. “Yeah, I guess we were never very traditional, huh?”

“Nope!”

He vaguely heard Dad announce something, and then people around them started getting up. “Oh, I guess it’s time for the reception.” He offered his hand. “Coming?”

They took his hand.

~~~~~~~~~

When Iris had learned that Pearl, her younger half-sister, had moved to Germany last summer, she was disappointed. They had been getting to know each other rather well and she thought that she could finally tell her the truth about her.

But then Mr. Wright had told her she’d gone to Germany when she came to visit one day and she thought that was it. She’d waited too long and lost her opportunity. And then he had told her he was getting married. And even invited her. She wasn’t even sure if she deserved an invitation after what her sister did, but she appreciated it none the less.

She had been about to decline, but then Mr. Wright had told her Pearl would be here, and well…now here she was. It was only too bad she hadn’t been able to get Pearl alone so far. Maya had been quite welcoming and friendly and allowed her to mingle in with their group, but this was a delicate matter. She couldn’t just blurt it out in front of everyone.

She saw Mr. Wright pass through the hallway, from what she was assuming was the bathroom, and he nodded at her, pointing his eyes down the hall.

“You should catch her before she goes back in,” he advised.

“Thank you.” And then she already started walking.

“Iris?” he called out, and she turned her head in confusion. He gave her a small, shy smile. “Thanks for coming.”

He really was quite handsome…she felt her face heat up and she mumbled, “Of course.” And bolted down the direction he’d pointed her at, ignoring how her heart skipped a beat.

Mr. Wright was quite the charmer. She sometimes wished she’d been the one engaged to him once upon a time instead of her sister.

But it probably wouldn’t have worked out either way. His heart clearly belonged to someone else.

She was broken from that train of thought when she saw Pearl’s familiar figure just about to open the door back into the reception room.

“Oh, Ms. Iris!” she gasped. “You look so pretty!”

Pearl certainly looked quite beautiful herself, looking grown up in her dusty pink A line.

“Thank you, Pearl. You too. Did Ms. von Karma make that dress for you?”

The girl grinned. “Yes, she did!” And she did a little twirl. “Do you like it?”

She smiled gently. “I love it.” But she should get to the point. “Hey, Pearl, do you mind taking a walk with me? There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

She perked up curiously. “Oh, okay then.”

And Iris led the girl to the courtyard where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Like peeling off a bandaid. Hopefully it wouldn’t bleed.

~~~~~~~~~

Gatewater Hotel Banquet Hall- Los Angeles, Japanifornia

Miles watched as Phoenix opened the bottle of wine, Where Dreams Have No End, 2010 etched on it. He nodded, raising his glass in a toast and once he got the satisfied clink, they both took a sip at the same time.

Miles raised an eyebrow. “Oh, this is better than I remember.”

Phoenix shrugged. “Well, you know what they say about fine wine.”

Miles eyed his partner appreciatively, saying without much thought, “Yes, much like yourself, it ages quite handsomely.”

Phoenix gave him an incredulous look at that and Miles noted with pleasure how his ears turned red. “What, are you drunk already?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed, “I’m not such a lightweight to get drunk off one sip of wine.”

Phoenix didn’t say anything, instead choosing to focus on his cake, their live performers starting with a slow, melodic song. Which brought up a concern…“Are you sure inviting them to perform was a good idea?” he asked his husband softly, touching his arm, the performers in question being the singer Lamiroir and her partner Herod, formerly known as Thalassa Gramarye and Jove Sadhmadhi. Though the young blond pianist they had with them was unfamiliar to him.

Phoenix looked at him, distracted for a moment from his cake. “Lamiroir is Apollo’s favorite singer, right? Why would it be an issue?”

Miles really didn’t like it when he acted willfully obtuse. “You know why, Phoenix. Having them here with the kids is a risk. What if they say something?”

“They won’t. I already talked to them about it.”

“Apollo and Trucy aren’t stupid, as you well know. What if they find out?”

Phoenix grabbed his hands, pressing a light kiss to his fingers. “Miles, they’re 14. They’re old enough to know that they didn’t just sprout up from nowhere. It’s not like we have anything to hide.”

“Well, yes, but-“

Phoenix didn’t let him finish that sentence, kissing him firmly. Miles pulled away, glaring with no heat.

“That was quite rude.” He got a kiss on the jaw in response. “I was talking and-“ Another kiss. “Ugh, you’re trying to distract me, aren’t you?”

Phoenix looked smug as hell. “Is it working?”

Yes. “No.”

He chuckled, “Liar.” And then kissed him again, softer this time.

“Hey lovebirds!” Larry called out, causing them to break apart. “Come get your pictures taken!”

He rolled his eyes and watched as Phoenix did the same.

He supposed a few pictures wouldn’t hurt. But not before he kissed his husband another time.

~~~~~~~~

Trucy never really “got” Apollo’s type of music. She was always more into upbeat stuff like the Gavinners, but this Lamiroir lady…was not bad. Her voice was beautiful, and she could see why Apollo liked it, even though it was kinda slow in her opinion.

Something about her was weird though…Familiar somehow. But Trucy was sure she’d never met a celebrity before.

She watched as the man with Lamiroir started playing something faster paced on his guitar and she smiled. Now they were talking.

“Dance with me, Apollo!”

“Trucy, I don’t dance.”

She rolled her eyes, and then she spotted a familiar dark head and got an idea. “Fine, I’ll go dance with Clay then.”

Their eyes went wide and they grabbed her arm. “You can��t do that!”

“Why not?”

“Because!” their eyes darted. “Because I’m gonna dance with him!”

She asked faux innocently, “But I thought you said you don’t dance?”

“Well, I lied!” And then to her delight, they marched over to Clay, saying something to him that she couldn’t hear, and he looked both confused and pleased as they started dancing awkwardly.

She waved sweetly and laughed as Apollo glared at her and Clay waved back.

“Excuse me, Miss,” she whirled around to come face to face with her grandfather, his eyes twinkling. “May I have this dance?”

She curtsied dramatically. “Of course, sir.”

And she let him twirl her around. For an old guy, he was surprisingly graceful.

~~~~~~~~

Mia was feeling quite good after her couple glasses of champagne. Light on her feet and even lighter in spirit. She was giggling as Lana twirled her again, resting her head on her shoulder.

She heard a cleared throat and she turned to see Phoenix standing there, looking incredibly handsome in that suit. Mr. Edgeworth sure knew what he was doing that was for sure.

“Do you mind if I borrow your wife?” he asked Lana.

“So long as you give her back,” was Lana’s response and he laughed.

And then he grabbed her arm. “Come and dance with me, Mia.”

“Careful, Phoenix,” she grinned like a shark, “Your new husband might get jealous.”

He snorted. “Okay, how much champagne have you had?” he asked, as he started to sway her gently.

“Not enough.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

She saw how carefree he was and smiled. “I’m really happy for you, Phoenix.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It feels good to have a wedding I can actually go to.”

“Why? So you can drink all the champagne?”

“Exactly. Get lit, as the kids would say.”

He cringed, which delighted her. “Please stop.”

She laughed. “Stop what? I’m sticking with the times.”

“You’re not. I live with two teenagers. Neither of them ever say that.”

She pouted. “Well, they used to.”

He muttered, “Yeah, maybe in the Stone Age.”

She flicked him on the head. “Don’t be rude. I’m not even 40 yet.”

“What is with you Fey women and hitting me today?”

So Maya got him earlier? She wondered what wise crack he said to deserve it. “Don’t be a baby. Someone has to keep you in line.”

“I have a husband for that.”

“He’s too soft.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but then refrained and just pouted. “Whatever.”

She patted his cheek fondly, pouting. “Phoenix, will you get me another champagne?”

“No.”

Damn, that usually worked.

Maybe this wedding was a mistake.

~~~~~~~~~

Franziska watched as Maya danced with Pearl, Iris having to leave in a hurry for some other obligation, Kay was dancing with Frau Skye’s younger sister and well…she was quite bored.

She was feeling restless. She saw her stupid brother in the center table kissing his foolish husband like the shameless man he was and had a solution.

She stalked over to their table. “Miles Edgeworth,” she said sharply, and watched them break away, her brother looking a bit disgruntled. Ugh, obscene. 37 years old and acting like a lovesick teenager. “You will dance with me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that a request or an order?”

“Yes.”

He rolled his eyes. “Alright then.” And then he stood from his spot.

Phoenix Wright looked amused, and just said in a dry tone, “Good luck!”

She levelled her glare to him. “You’re next.”

He just got even more smug, which annoyed her. “Can’t wait.” Sometimes she lamented the loss of her riding crop. She missed the days when men cowered at her feet.

“Was your wife unavailable?” Miles asked flatly, doing an elegant twirl.

“Shut up,” she snapped, and then she mumbled in embarrassment, “Yes.”

“I see. So you were bored.”

She glared at him but he was unperturbed. She would have to attempt a different method. She switched over to her native tongue and said in a wistful tone, “Why must you assume the worst of my intentions, older brother? Is it not acceptable for your sister to dance with you at your own wedding?”

“Of course it is. My apologies for doubting you.” He didn’t sound completely sincere but she supposed that would be good enough.

“I am taking your husband for the next song.”

“Just don’t kill him, please.”

“No promises,” she said in English this time. The song ended and she made her way back over to where Phoenix Wright was. She nodded. “Your turn. As promised.”

He grinned. “Oh, good, I’ve been waiting!” Then he turned back to her brother. “If I don’t come back, take good care of the kids, yeah?”

“Of course,” Miles said solemnly and she rolled her eyes, dragging the man out by the arm.

She was expecting him to have two left feet as he was an absolute disaster in everything else, but he was surprisingly competent.

“I must admit, Phoenix Wright, I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Hmm?”

“I did not peg you for a dancer.”

“I took some classes.” And then he got that stupid smug look again that made her regret ever saying anything nice. “See, I guess I’m not totally hopeless at everything, huh?”

“Debatable.”

“I never got to thank you, by the way.”

She pursed her lip. “For what?”

“For making Maya happy. Taking in Pearls. You’ve grown up a lot.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I hope you’re not intending to imply I’ve gotten soft.”

He gave her a wry look. “I would never imply that.”

“Good. Because I will happily rip your head off your body if you hurt my brother, I hope you understand.”

She heard him gulp. Ahh, yes there was the fear she so desperately missed. “I understand completely. Thanks for clearing that up.”

She smirked. “My pleasure.”

~~~~~~

The party was finally over, her and Herod packing up their belongings. She’d been rather hesitant to come here when Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth invited her. She didn’t want to cause any trouble with their family, of course. But Mr. Wright had assured her it was fine and said he wouldn’t say anything so long as she didn’t.

And she hadn’t planned on saying anything. The twins she’d given birth to 14 years ago were flourishing under their care just like she knew they would. They didn’t need her. Sometimes she felt that twinge of regret when she would see parents with their children walking the street together, but it quickly passed. She’d made her decision, and she was no longer able to bear children. It just wasn’t meant to be, she supposed.

She wondered if her partner knew…

“Excuse me, Ms. Lamiroir?” She heard a child’s voice and turned around, coming face to face with both of the twins. Had they…figured it out? She wondered if they inherited her ability of observation.

One of them, the one with the shorter hair in a spiffy pantsuit, spoke up. “I’m a really big fan of your work. Can I have your autograph?”

Oh, that was it? “Oh! Of course!” She mimed writing. “Where should I…?”

“Right here.” They shoved a vinyl album in her face. Her vinyl album. She smiled ruefully. Life had a way of connecting things, didn’t it?

She got out her fine tip marker. “Who should I make this out to?”

“Apollo.”

She nodded and signed out To Apollo. With Love, Lamiroir. “There you are, dear.” She handed it back to them.

“Thank you so much!” They sounded breathless. But the other one didn’t say anything, only assessing her quietly which made her a bit nervous.

“Did you need an autograph too?” she asked.

The child blinked, as if caught out of a trance. “Nah, I’m just here for moral support.”

“I see.” She saw the one who’d gotten her autograph run over to one of their fathers to gush, but the other one was still staring. “Was there something else I could do for you?”

“You just look familiar. Have we met before?”

She frowned, thankful she had a cloth covering the bottom half of her face. She saw the child’s fathers off only a few feet away with their sibling, Mr. Edgeworth looking at her curiously.

“No, we haven’t. Unless you’ve been to France?”

They furrowed their brow. “No, I haven’t. Sorry, I must have been thinking of someone else.” And like that, the tension was gone as the child grinned. “Thanks for playing tonight! Your voice is really beautiful!” And then they waved to join their family.

“Sweetheart,” Herod put his arm around her shoulders. “Am I crazy? Or are those two…?”

“They’re just the grooms’ children,” she finished, but she could tell by his face that he wasn’t convinced. She tapped his wrist gently. “We should hurry. They’re going to close down soon.”

He paused for only a moment before nodding. “I’ll grab Machi.”

And like that, the party was over and they all went their separate ways once again.

~~~~~~~~

May 23, 2029

LAX Airport- Los Angeles, Japanifornia

Apollo got a sense of déjà vu, though the airport was different this time.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Papa asked as they walked in through the door. “You got yourself into quite a bit of trouble the last time.”

Apollo rolled his eyes. “Well, unless there’s a secret triplet that me and Trucy don’t know about, I don’t think that will happen again.”

Trucy snorted at that, but Papa just glowered. Apollo thought he was due for a scolding for getting smart, but Dad steered Papa gently away. “They’re fine, Miles. They’ll look after each other.” And then he gave them both a stern look. “Right?”

He nodded furiously, while Trucy, who was always much braver than he was, just rolled their eyes. “Yes, Daddy,” they sighed out.

Papa was satisfied with that. “Very well. But you call us if anything goes wrong.”

“We will.” He went to hug him. “Bye, Papa.”

He gave Dad a hug too while Trucy gave one to Papa and then, after Dad practically dragged Papa out of the airport, they were finally able to get through the baggage line.

He wondered if all his friends from last time would still be there.

~~~~~~~~

May 24, 2029

Maine, USA

“Alright, campers, we have made it to our destination! Welcome to Camp Gourdy!” Trucy was jolted awake from the loudspeaker and then nudged her twin. “Polly, we’re here.”

Apollo blearily opened their eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight, and then their eyes widened as they sat up. “Oh! Hey Trucy, we’re here!” She gave them a flat look. “Oh, right.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “Alright so, as soon as they open the doors we have to make a run for it. Otherwise, we’re not gonna be able to get our luggage.”

“Why wouldn’t we be able to get it?”

“Just trust me.”

“Okay.”

They quickly shoved their way to the front, ignoring the squawks of protest from other campers. Trucy saw her bright blue luggage and Apollo’s red bag about to get buried. “Quick, Polly, grab it!”

“Got it,” they grunted, hoisting their bag over their shoulder.

She grinned in triumph and gave her twin a fist bump. “C’mon, let’s go get our cabins.”

She looked around curiously. Everything seemed the same from when she was here last. Not that she expected much to change.

They approached the check in, and she was mildly amused to see it was the same grumpy old lady from last time. Windbag, right?

“Name and pronouns!” The woman barked.

She blinked. “Sorry, what?”

She huffed, still grumpy as ever. “I said your name and pronouns, whippersnapper, I don’t have all day.”

“Oh! Uhh, Trucy Wright. She.” And then she added on. “Or they.”

“Well, which is it? She or they?”

“Both?” Windbag gave her a flat look and she grimaced.  “Just she then is fine.”

The woman handed her a name tag that read Trucy. She/her. Yellow. Wow, so maybe things were a little different. She wondered if people complained about them not being inclusive enough.

“Name and pronouns!” Windbag barked to Apollo, who flinched under the intensity.

“Apollo Justice!” they yelled, making the old woman wince.

“Don’t shout, child, my ears still work!”

“Sorry.”

“Pronouns?”

“He.” Windbag glared and Apollo flinched again. “They?”

“Fine.” She threw the nametag at them and Apollo couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“Well, she’s as unpleasant as ever, I see,” they huffed. But then they furrowed their brow again as they looked at their name tag. “There weren’t pronoun options last time.”

Trucy shrugged. “Maybe they’re catching up with the times.”

“Well, they could do it a little nicer.”

“What cabin are you in?” she asked, nodding towards the tag.

“Green.”

So they were in different cabins again. Interesting.

~~~~~~~~

Apollo hadn’t expected to have the exact same cabin mates as last time, but he was still a bit disappointed that Athena wasn’t here. He’d quite liked her. But the other girl, Junie, was here so he supposed that counted for something.

“This is the first time me and ‘Thena are separated,” the girl sighed out.

“Oh, do you know what cabin she’s in?”

“Yellow, I think.”

“Oh, that’s the same cabin as Trucy.”

Junie frowned. “Trucy? Isn’t that the awful girl you got stuck with last time you were here?”

He grimaced. “A lot’s happened since then.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Junie just continued to stare at him expectantly. He supposed he should elaborate. “We found out we were twins separated as babies and that our parents were divorced, so we switched places and our parents are back together now and happily married.”

She looked like she had a lot of questions, but just said, “Okay. Well, um, congratulations!”

“Thanks!”

~~~~~~~~

Trucy was unpacking her things when a familiar face came bouncing up to her, that tall, ginger girl from last time. Agatha?

“Oh, hey, Apollo!” She grinned.

“Not Apollo,” she said wryly.

“Oh, you’re the other one!” she put her fist in her hand. “Um, Tracy?”

“Trucy.”

“Gotcha! Well hey, is Apollo here too?”

“Yep. They came with me.”

“Oh really? Wait, does that mean you guys actually are siblings?”

Was she serious?

“We look identical.”

“Well, yeah, but it could’ve just been one of those weird freak Twilight Zone things!”

Trucy cocked her head. “What’s a twilight zone?”

“Oh, it’s this show my mom really likes. It’s about like people who get stuck in like alternate worlds. Sometimes it’s kinda scary, but I find the vibe of it really soothing.”

Sounded interesting, actually. Maybe she could check that out when she got home.

“Sounds cool,” she admitted, “But it was nothing crazy like that. Our parents just separated us when we were babies because they broke up.”

The taller girl’s eyes bugged out. “What?! That’s awful!”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but then we traded places and forced them to talk again and now they’re back together, so it all worked out in the end.”

The girl grinned. “So my theory was right then!”

“What theory?”

“Oh! I guess you wouldn’t know,” she chuckled, “So you see, me and Apollo both have Greek names, right?”

“Yeah…” What was her name again?

“And my mom is single and his dad is single, or was at the time, so I theorized that we were siblings separated at birth.”

Trucy stared at her blankly. “You guys don’t look anything alike, though.”

“Well, no, obviously because we’re not related, but…” she held a finger up. “The theory was true. Just not for me.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that logic.

And then she got a hard pat to the back. “But hey! I’m glad it worked out for you!”

She was strong. Trucy always did like strong girls. “Thanks!” she grinned, leaning closer. “What was your name again?”

The look she got for that was priceless.

~~~~~~~~

The mess hall was the only time all the campers came together. Atleast the ones in his age group. So he was only partially prepared for a whirl of orange to practically tackle him to the ground.

“Apollo, oh my gosh! I missed you last year and I thought you got banned and were never coming back!”

“Athena,” he wheezed, “You’re choking me.”

“Oops.” She let go of him quickly. “Sorry.”

He set his tray down on a free table. “So you’re in the same cabin as Trucy this time?”

“Yep!” She slid in the chair next to Junie, grabbing her hand and squeezing. “She told me all about your crazy family!”

‘Crazy’ was an understatement. They were utterly mad.

With just the three of them, and Trucy chatting it up from a distance, it really felt like old times.

“So where do you live now?” Athena asked, “Are you still in Germany?”

He shook his head. “No, me and my father moved in with Trucy and my other father last summer.”

Athena gave him a sympathetic look and said in broken German, “it was adjustment?”

He nodded. “Only a little.”

He was curious why she couldn’t say that in English, but at the awestruck look Junie was giving both of them, he figured she was just showing off.

“Well, atleast Trucy won’t try to dump a bucket on your head this time,” Junie said quietly.

He certainly hoped not.

Maybe he could finally have the full camp experience he wanted from the beginning.

~~~~~~~

It had been a bit of a rough sleep for Trucy that night, as it usually was anytime she was in an unfamiliar place. Though atleast she didn’t have nightmares anymore. Those seemed to have stopped a while ago. She wondered if it was because Papa was there now.

In an echo of last time, she heeled her sneakers on and snuck down to the nearby lounge for some coffee. Daddy didn’t like her drinking coffee unless it was decaf, and Papa swore by tea, but they weren’t here and what they didn’t know didn’t kill them.

As expected, the place was a ghost town. Just how she liked it this early.

She sipped her coffee gingerly, remaining blissfully uninterrupted this time, and then jolted a little when the trumpets went off. Well, that was her cue to disappear.

She quickly changed into her t-shirt and shorts, tying her hair back, which was getting long again. She wondered if she should cut it. She’d gotten spoiled from it being short for so long. But now it was almost halfway down her back and starting to be a nuisance.

The first day for her cabin didn’t officially have anything scheduled, so when she heard familiar sounds of a cheering crowd and the clink of metal, she wandered towards it.

She shouldered her way closer to the front, her height making it hard to see, and smiled when she saw the fencing match, the familiar dodge and jab. Oh, she’d missed that. Maybe she could incorporate more sword fights into her magic shows. Though she was sure Papa would have a heart attack.

She heard the cheers and then Counselor Lotta, still with the same full afro and the southern accent, “And the winner again is Apollo Justice. Our undefeated champ so far! Any of y’all brave enough to challenge them?”

She grinned. She raised her hand, shouting out, “I’ll take a whack at it!”

“Wha’?” Lotta looked around, “Who said that?”

Trucy kept her hand up and watched as the crowd let her go to the front, still grinning as Apollo’s face came into view.

Lotta squinted at her. “Now why does this seem familiar?” Then she shrugged. “Whatever. Put your gear on and git ready to face off.”

It was as she was putting her helmet on that Apollo asked smugly, “Are you ready to lose again, Wright?”

She smirked, even though they couldn’t see it and held up her sword. “I’m gonna win, Justice.  And I’ll do it without pushing you in a basin.”

Apollo got in position. “We’ll see about that.”

“On yer marks!” Lotta called, and then she put her arm down with a whistle.

And Trucy swung.

[saeryuart]

Ikevamp Hugger Tiers

... Welcome to the first and last piece of writing I’ll likely ever post on here lmao. I couldn’t get this outta my head and this happened XD If your guy happens to be one of the lower tiers, sorry! 

The entire list is just how I think it would go, soooo yeah. Though funnily enough, the guys listed in the tiers themselves aren’t necessarily in order lmao. 

Includes Vlad and Charles! Because it’s gonna be a long af post, writing is under the cut!

TOP TIER HUGGERS

Napoleon:

-Honorary member #1 of the #GotThisSquad

-Man radiates big bro energy, and if you don’t know it right now, you WILL know it when he takes you in his arms. They’re warm, strong and protective.

The kinds of hugs he tends to give vary between being playful or protective. If he’s feeling playful, he’d probably hug you from behind and murmur teasing, loving remarks in your ear. He’s particularly fond of nuzzling his cheek in your hair.

-Man’s also got big hands, great for holding your waist, along with other things mhmmm~ ;)) they’re great for making you feel even more secure than you normally would, and that’s saying a lot

-With his hugs, he wants to tell you he’s not only protecting your body, but your heart and soul if you’re willing. They’re all encompassing, and are always gonna have you feeling safe, no matter what

-Sleepy hugs are arguably the best kind of hugs to receive from him though, bc all filters are off. Any reservations the man might normally have are gone as he pulls you into bed to hug the life outta you 

-Hope you don’t have any important plans for the day bc you’ll be stuck there with his face buried in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you like a cat. 

-Please hug him, you won’t regret it. .... If you don’t have plans.

Overall rating: 9/10

Comte:

-Leader of the #GotThisSquad, man knows what he is doing

-He’s super observant of people by nature, so he’ll know immediately what it is you want. You someone that’s more energetic and wants tight hugs? That’s what you’re gonna get. You’re a shy, hesitant bean that isn’t quite used to contact? He’s gotchu girl~ He’ll hold you gently but loosely, so you have the chance to step away if you want to

-but if he had it his way, he would put the person in the gentlest but secure hold. Especially fond of having his hands stroke their hair and back.

-Speaking of which, his hands are like magic, able to melt your worries and tensions away. They just coax you into relaxing in his arms

-He personally prefers to be the one doing the holding, but if you want to spoil him, you don’t need to work that hard to convince him - running your fingers through his hair is a surefire way to make a contented sigh escape his lips.

-It’s a bone-deep kind of satisfaction that Comte wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, cherishing the person in his arms

-It doesn’t matter whether you’re happy or sad, he’s your go-to person if you’re in need of a hug

Overall rating: Sugar Daddy/10

Vincent:

-Final member of the #GotThisSquad.

-Like a warm summer day, his hugs are super soft and sweet. Somehow, despite being a painter and hardly stepping out of the mansion, he smells like freshly washed sheets.

-His hands are gentle and soft, but a little calloused from constantly washing and handling his art supplies and paintings.

-While holding you, expect sweet nothings to be whispered in your ear. Man loves you so much, he has to make sure you know everything that’s in his thoughts, EVERYTHING.

-His fingers tend to absently trace all the little things he loves about you; your hair, your cheeks, your lips, the way your eyes shine when they reflect his own loving gaze in yours... it all makes him want to hold you more and never let go.

-Particularly fond of holding your hand while hugging you, intertwining your fingers together as naturally as breathing. Also enjoys touching foreheads with your own, staring into your eyes.

-He hopes he makes you feel as beautiful as he sees you.

Overall rating: Sunshine Boi/10 **sobs** 

HIGH TIER HUGGERS

Leonardo:

-BLAST FURNACE.

-This man is a portable heater who can’t stand not being in your arms for 0.000001 seconds. Especially when he’s ready to take a nap.

-Great during Winters, but the Summer... welp. Run MC. Other than that though, he gives great bear hugs.

-He’s so huge, he literally dwarfs any and everything under that hugeass coat. TBH you’ll either hate it or love it, depending on how good your blood circulation is lmaooo

-Man likes giving back hugs when in a teasing mood, but when he’s feeling more romantic, he prefers you to be facing him. Odds are, he’ll be pulling you into his arms, hand tucking the back of your head into his chest.

-His bear hugs are reassuring, those broad arms and strong chest doing wonders in making you feel safe and secure. Depending on how tall you are, he’d pull you into his chest or the crook of his neck. ... And did I mention that chest? Damn Daddy.

-Odds are, he’s gonna smell like tobacco too. If you don’t like that sorta thing, that could be something of a turnoff. Man’s a giant too, so odds are you’re going to be an armrest half the time, rip.

Overall rating: 8/10

Arthur:

-Like his personality, his hugs are playful and endearing. He LOVES cuddles and by Jove, if Arthur Conan Doyle wants cuddles, he WILL get cuddles.

-Repeat after me. CLINGY. MAN.

-It’s practically canon that, like a puppy, he wants your attention on him ALL THE TIME. So eye contact is a must, lots of small kisses peppered across your face to make you laugh; your laughter never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

-Skinship is practically a requirement, it’s Arthur’s love language. Up there with gift giving.

-He loves holding your waist while breathing in your scent in the crook of your neck. He wants to be enveloped by you, your presence assures him more than anything. But that doesn’t mean the hugs are a one-sided thing, either.

-If in a particularly good mood, he’ll hum some random English tune while swaying you side to side. Sometimes, that swaying might evolve into a full-blown dance, with him twirling you around the mansion floor with laughter.

-With you, he always wants you to feel as good as you make him, for you bring out the best side of him.

Overall rating: 8.5/10

Vlad:

-0/10, momma didn’t raise you to fall for no shady man, wouldn’t recommend.

-KIDDING, I’M KIDDING. .... Mostly.

-Bc he’s such a shady man with little to no experience in physical contact, one would think a hug from him would be the worst idea one could have if they ignored his pretty face and bewitching eyes-

-Warning: Once he’s in love, his hugs are the singular most addicting thing besides his kisses. MAYDAY, MAYDAY, ABORT!! Man is dangerously attractive, and he knows it.

-Bc he’s always around flowers, he always smells great. Like nectar from the sweetest flower, his sweet, honeyed words would coax you over until, before you know it, you’re trapped within his arms.

-He’s not planning on letting go either, because only he deserves to see such beauty and tend to it. As far as he’s concerned, the other weeds he calls ‘men’ could be nipped in the bud ok that’s enough flower puns, I promise.

-His hugs are unbelievably gentle, but possessive. You’ll be handled so delicately, you’d wonder if he mistook you for glass - no, even glass was handled with less care than how he’s holding you right now.

-He has to have eye contact while holding you. No exceptions. He has to know, what are you thinking right now? If you feel like breaking away, surely he has other ways of convincing you...

Overall rating: Intervention/10

Charles:

-TACKLE HUUUUUUGSSSS

-Hope you have a strong back, because he won’t be able to resist glomping you over half the time.

-If he’s particularly excited, he’ll be playfully swinging you around after. You getting dizzy? Tooooo bad, maybe after a couple more minutes. As long as you don’t throw up, babe~

-Man may be a doctor but dammit, he has the right to cuddle his honey, too! Hmm, this sounds familiar. Must be a doctor thing.

=Nose boops and cheek rubs. All that disgustingly cheesy and playful shit that makes anyone watching gag from the diabetes. 

-If he’s feeling mischievous enough, he might bury his nose into the crook of your neck to blow hot air on your skin to make you squirm. It never fails to make him giggle.

-His main focus is making you laugh and have a good time, nothing else matter.s He likes the way laughter makes your eyes crinkle juuust right~

Overall rating: 7.5/10 bc his hugs will break someone’s back one day-

MID-TIER HUGGERS

Dazai:

-A surprisingly decent hugger.

-One wouldn’t think him capable of giving hugs with such genuity and emotion, unless you were the person he were doing it to. These special hugs are especially private, reserved for the irreplacable person in Dazai’s life.

-Despite his appearances, he is a compassionate person deep down, and wants to see you happy. Especially as the one who taught him to care for his own life.

-Like Arthur, he likes making you laugh. With his arms encircling your middle from behind, he likes giving surprise tickles to make you squeak and jump, promting his own quiet chuckles. Your reactions never fail to amuse him.

-His hugs are literally breathtaking, because you’ll be too busy squirming with breathless laughter to escape out of his arms. It makes his eyes light up in a way that’s startlingly different from the smile he shows the others; the closest thing to a true smile.

-For more somber moments, he holds you like he’s never going to hold you again. You can feel how much he cherishes you with how gently but securely he embraces you. He likes doing it from behind so you don’t have to see the pained expression on his face as he holds your hand for comfort.

-The only real downside is that again these hugs are especially private, so no one else gets to see. A shame too, or not, depending on how you look at it. uwu

Overall rating: Soft sad boi/10 whoops I kinda accidentally turned this into angst.

Isaac:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #1.

-Bc he’s so awkward and shy, his hugs are gonna be stiff af at first. He might not even respond at all, depending on how startled he is. Or how fast you let go of him

-If you do let go first, he’s gonna be lowkey highkey disappointed.

-Good thing is, because his hands are so used to delicate work, his touch is gentle and precise. So if you’re sensitive to physical sensations, he’ll pick up on that. If he does manage to brush against a sensitive area, expect a ton of stammered apologies and red cheeks.

-At first, his initial touches are shaky and unsure. But when he starts to gain confidence, his hands are curious and careful.

-Give him some time to let the hedgehog bristles come down a bit, and you’ve got yourself a teddy bear. Unfortunately, his hugs are going to remain awkward for some time bc-

-wHAT IF HE HOLDS YOU FOR TOO LONG, WOULD YOU GET ANNOYED??? DOES IT COME OFF AS TOO CLINGY, WHAT IF- ***incoherent anxious screaming into the void***

-Error: Isaac Newton has stopped working.exe

-Once he gets used to you though, his hugs become super comforting. Boy’s a string bean, so his arms aren’t the most buff. But the way he holds you is so awkwardly sweet, you can feel the sincerity behind his actions.

-Please give him a chance, he’s so worth it T_T

Overall rating: 7/10

Jeanne:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #2

-Similarly to Isaac, he’s super standoffish at first, especially with the whole ‘don’t touch me, you’ll get dirty blah blah blah’ spiel sHUT UP AND LET ME LOVE YOU.

-Don’t expect him to ever initiate hugs, not at first. It’s a long work in progress with this man. But pls stick with him, he is so, so worth it.

-Jeanne isn’t a person that gives away affection lightly, so whenever he hugs you, expect him to mean it. You will be weak-kneed at the sheer compassion and warmth behind his actions, even through his gloves.

-But if you do ever hug him, even though it’s hesitant, he’ll never fail to hug you back bc he’s a soft boi that doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

-Despite having the tendency to push people away,his hugs are gentle and protective. They let you know you’re safe and not alone. Giver #2 of great comfort hugs.

-Once he’s comfortable, he’ll like the feeling of your bare skin against his palms, so he’ll start hugging you with his gloves off.

-Develops a habit of gently rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand; he likes how small they feel in his own. It makes him feel protective, renewing his vow of keeping you safe.

-Unfortunately, he gets points deducted for never initiating contact at first, as well as his hugs being rather stiff for a long time.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10 pls love-

Sebastian:

-Hugging? When you could be WORKING?? It’s more likely than you think.

-Man is normally reserved, and not one for physical contact. But his touch is surprisingly gentle and reassuring. Particularly if you’re feeling upset or stressed.

-He’s fond of back rubs and closeness as he’s holding you. Tucking your head under his chin, his hold is gentle but firm, reminding you of your good qualities and what he loves about you. 

-Because he’s not as remarkable as the other men in the mansion, he might need some extra reassurance that he’s good enough for you. He’ll appreciate it if you rub his back, especially after a rough day. 

-Under those gloves, his hands are rough and calloused from his work as a butler, but the way he embraces you couldn’t be more deliberate or careful.

-Sebastian considers you his little miracle, the fact that you came from the same timeline as him gives him a new level of comfort as a piece of home away from home.

-Despite his strictness during work, he makes sure you know how much you really mean to him. While he disapproves of PDA in front of the residents, he doesn’t mind sneaking a cuddle now and then... in privacy of course.

-But despite these qualities, the problem with Sebastian’s hugs is that they hardly get a chance to happen.

-Man is too busy working himself to death helping the mansion residents, and has an 18-hour work schedule everyday to spend time with you. Someone save him bls. You’ll be doing both of yourselves a favor.

Overall rating: Workaholic/10

LOW-TIER HUGGERS (I’m so sorry)

Theo:

-Ah yes, Hondje fetish man.

-Like his brusque personality, his grip may be a tad rough, but the way he holds you is protective and gentle. Likes holding the back of your head close to him, arm secure around your waist; he likes the feeling of you belonging to him

-Theo doesn’t really do comfort hugs. Unless your life was in danger or something, he’s much more likely to just pull you in when he feels like having cuddles hugs. Processing emotional depth greater than familial love is a bit of a learning curve for the man. He’s trying.

-His hold is possessive, but affectionate. He likes pulling you in close by the hip when in public; man claims he’s not big into PDA, but he’s proud of his girlfriend and WILL show that off, dammit. 

-Also claims he’s not clingy, but he’ll hold onto you for as long as physically possible until he has to let go. So you’d better not be thinking of going anywhere Hondje, not when you have your Master to please. Yeah, sure ok sounds fake but ok.

-He doesn’t initiate hugs often, but he likes holding you in quiet moments when you’re alone. Not that he’ll admit that out loud. Like Vincent, he likes touching foreheads with yours to stare into your eyes. They’re like the perfect works of art to him, a masterpiece he can stare at for hours. He likes how expressive they are, the way they light up in so many different ways whether you’re happy, angry or excited.

-Honestly, despite the loving shit I give him, he’s only barely in this tier for a couple reasons. But one of them is that he’s not really an affectionate kind of hugger. Theo’s the kind of guy that expresses his love through uh... other physical means. If you catch my drift~ >3

-All in all, his hugs are protective and strong, but also a little rough. Perfect if you want to be assured of your relationship and loved, but not really recommended if you’re looking for something comforting and soothing. 

-TLDR: His hugs are warm, but not versatile. Honest Tsunderes die if they are killed

Overall rating: 6/10

Mozart:

-Awkward Blushy Boy #3. The holy trinity is complete.

-Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to rank Mo as the worst hugger of the mansion guys for a couple reasons. One being his lack of human contact.

-Like Isaac, his hands are very careful. He cherishes you, and wants you to feel the devotion he has for you, so he often handles you as gently as he does his violets.

-But the stage to get there is unbearably long. Like, Jeanne kinda long. In fact, Mo is someone that, (even after he gets together with you), thinks that people only approach him when they have an angle, something to gain from him. But that doesn’t mean he holds back with you.

-His initial hugs are awkward at best, the but number of ways he hugs you is as innumerable as his compositions. A loving, encasing hug for a declaration of affection, a passionate intense embrace when recovering from a close call, entwining of fingers in a quiet moment... you’ll have it all. 

-He sometimes hums some songs in your ear while holding you, particularly if you’re upset. His hand will also be rubbing soothing and gentle circles in your back. Mozart is a passionate, empathic man deep down, and will accept nothing less than your complete comfort.

-Unfortunately, while his hands are beautiful and practically close to perfection in appearance, they’re awfully cold from poor circulation. Doesn’t help that he’s a literal vampire.

-The temperature difference is bound to make you jump a little, but he makes up for it with his gentleness. It’s also why he likes stroking your hair, entwining his fingers together around your waist so you don’t feel the cold as much.

-But the big reason points get deducted off is-

...... I see you reaching for the Purell, asshole. >:(

Overall Rating: Ice Hands/10

Shakespeare:

-D.... do i really need to explain this? ;;

-Don’t get me wrong, the man is very romantic. He never fails to whisper sweet words to sweep you off your feet. Hushed poetics and compliments flow out of his lips with ease, making you feel like a princess in his arms.

-However, like Mozart, his hands are cold from poor circulation. Not to mention... do you smell a hint of blood, coming from him? No, it’s just your imagination, he swears.

-Like the man himself, his embraces are very passionate. He loves holding you close by the waist, making sure your bodies are touching as much as possible. He’s rather fond of bringing a lock of your hair to his lips, kissing it with the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

-He’s also rather... possessive. When he’s feeling particularly sly, he embraces you sensually from behind, resting his chin on top your shoulder. The way his arms slowly rise to curl around your waist feel like the sweetest trap you can’t bring yourself to escape.

-He’s also one that silently demands eye contact. As he keeps a hold of your waist, he likes to cradle your cheek tenderly, the mismatched wild yellow and blood red faze staring into your soul. The way he searches your eyes for your secrets steals your breath away, as the devotion he pours into the act belies any falsehoods he might’ve told.

-Again, this man is very devoted. Loves you to the point of obsession, really, But would I recommend hugging him personally? Aha ha ha haaa... gimme a while on that one. When the knife he has in his pocket isn’t poking my stomach. And NO, I don’t mean the one you want.

Overall rating: Romantic until someone dies/10 (I SEE those knives sticking out of your coat pocket Shakes, I want your arms, not the damn Iron Maiden).

Faust:

-Man wants you as a guinea pig. Why would you want to hug that. 

-...  Idk enough of him to actually add more than that. Sorry lmao.

Overall rating: Death wish???/10

--- Wow, I am never doing that again sdlkfjsd. I think my wrists have died along with my sinuses making this post lmao. Hopefully everyone was relatively in character! If you actually managed to sit through all of this, you deserve a big round of applause, seriously. I think I’ll stick to drawing tho, kek.

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 17 + 18.11.20 lbs

17.11.20

“aaj ki duniya mein, stupid usse kehte hain hain, jo dimaag se lene waale faisle ko dil se le. aur woh kaun hai? main teen options deta hoon, haan?”

“riddhima.”

“riddhima.”

“ aur, riddhima!”

lmaooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

we love a cute evil bean.

“aaj tak jab bhi koi problem mein padi hoon toh sabse aage tumhara haath aage badhaa hai, vansh” uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, you mean to push you INTO the goddamn problem right???? like i get not wanting to speak ill of the dead and all BUT THIS B IS BEING RIDICULOUS the way she’s whitewashing him.

ok fwding through the pointlessness of riddhima and kabir/AP. riddhima overheard the tail end of their evil mwahahahaha we shall succeeeeeed!!!!! convo and was like what you ppl talking about and kabir distracts her with his chikni chupdi baatein.

but her husband is dead, not her shakkiness. so riddhima is sus as helllllllllllll about ex bee-eff.

mummy is wary of her but kabir getting too complacent. vinaash kaale vipareeeeet buddhi. 

kabir made a ridiculously tinyass cake for this wholeass fam, lol.

aslkjdlsakjdlaksjdlksajd the reactions:

these two need to team up against kabir alreadyyyyyyyyy.

kabir trying reallllllllllll hard to jataofy haq and rishta and literally everyone here looks like they’d rather kiss a COVID positive person on the mouth.

ishani has hadddddddddddddddd it. yes sis, go offfffff.

that part where she said forget taking vansh bhai’s place, i won’t even ever regard you as a brother. that hit him hardest. itnaaaa bhi koi obsessed hota hai kya bhai manwaane ke liye????

dadi apologizing to kabir and riddhima is like uh actually i think ishani was right. LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO I AM LOVING IT.

she’s rubbing it in some more that you may be mummyji’s son and all, but you’ll never take vansh’s place. ever.

oh man he’s cryingggggggggg about it. i feel kinda bad.

NOOOOOOOOOOO THAT’S PERFECTLY GOOD CAKE YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATHHHHHHHHH. murdering ppl, i overlooked, BUT DESTROYING CAKE?!!?!?!?!? I CANNOT TOLERATE!!!!!!!!!!

he’s now fucking losing it over ishani “insulting” him and not calling him “bhai”. bro, baawla ho gaya hai kya???? you waited allllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll these years to play this long game and now are blowing it all coz you can’t hold your horses once you got into the damn house????????/  like............... it’s just soooooo fucking dumbbbbbbbb. this is literally hour 3 on the very first day!!!!! 

riddhima has started snooping around again. literally just stopped for 13 days when vansh died and now that the terhvi is over, it’s back to business for nancy drew.

got kabir’s wallet that he dropped.

lmao who this desi james franco lookalike???

while kabir is gonna do some sabotage-y shit to ishani........... seriously dude, why don’t you just chill , use their unlimited wifi, swim in the pool, just fuckin relax for one hot second?????????

even anupriya is like dude, get your head in the game, focus on the business and money instead of this bs.

but nope. kabir wants to replace vansh PRONTO. ok good luck with that bro.

 the day not far when this maa daa ladlaa does her kaam tamaam too. mark my words.

riddhima sees kabir entering ishani’s room and follows him and he disappeared.

ofc. hiding behind one of these oh so conveniently placed highback chairs. LITERALLY WHY DO YOU FUCKS HAVE THESE DUMBASS MUSIBAT-CREATING CHAIRS IN THIS DAMN HOUSE???

kabir crawling out and like mwahahahahahaha TUM SACH TAK KABHIIIIIIIIII NAHI POHUNCH PAOGIIIIIIIIIIIIII when we know she does by the end of this ep.......... seriously, brain fucking rot this boy has gotten.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh kabir’s wardrobe has been changed to suits. FUCKING WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??????????/ I LIKED HIS OLDDDDDDD STYLE. rrahul ko abhi hot kar diya toh vishal ko (currently tolerable, but soooooon to get atrangi i’m fucking sure) suits mein ghusa diya. WHY CAN’T I HAVE THEM BOTH LOOKING HOT AT THE SAME TIME???????????

dadi’s like looking snappppy my boy, come let me take nazar off.

lol kabir knows this is all a ploy by riddhima to keep them engaged here as she snoops around.

“riddhima phir koi khurafaat karne mein lagi hai kya?????” lmao neki aur pooch poochhhhhh???

yup. riddhima up to her usual shit. vansh must be smiling glaring down from the heavens so proud of his lil snoop.

why’s this stuff just lying here by the pool so randomly????

riddhima also asking the same thing, how mummy just left all these things here so carelessly. BY JOVE, GIRLS; THIS ONE JUST NEEDED NO MAN IN HER LIFE TO HAVE HER BRAIN START WORKING. THIS IS LITERALLY THE MOST CLEAR HEADED I HAVE EVER SEEN THIS CHICK BE. PROOOOOF. FUCKING PROOOOOOOOOOOF THAT WOMEN JUST THRIVE LIKE HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL ONCE YOU REMOVE MEN AND THEIR COMPLETE FUCKERY FROM THEIR LIVES.

yup. she found the reciept and got it verified from the shop it was brought from, that this stuff is brandddd new.

aaaaaaaand figured out that the letter is in kabir’s handwriting. never been prouder of my little dumbass!!!!!!!!

——————————————————————— 

18.11.19

alternating between menacing growling and mwahahahahaha we are successful and riddhima being like NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO and i’ll never let you hurt my familyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

that’s it. that’s literally it.

i mean yeah she runs into ishani’s room and kinda saves her too. but yeah, that’s it.

———————————————————————

precap:

yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!!!!!!!!!!!!! ABOUT FUCKING TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[bitsinakaleidoscope]

So I’ve been playing around with this idea for around half a day by now [because it literally came to me right as I was trying to fucking go to sleep]. Basically it’s me shifting the CotBG sects further towards Transhumanist Machine Cult than Doomsday Machine Cult. There’s also gonna be some stuff about the Foundation at the end, and I SWEAR it’s not because I’m completely used to O5verthinking’s O5-1 “Founder” [/lh you’re great, Rosencrantz].

Putting this under a read more because I have chronic Write An Entire Academic Paper syndrome.

To kick this off, I need to explain what’s going to change with the Mekhanites before I say why. Each sect basically gets their own brand of transhumanism from each other. The Broken Church is metaphorical and boring, at least in the sense of what they do with their bodies. I can imagine that exploring the thoughts of a follower of the Broken Church would be really interesting. The Cogwork Orthodoxy, of course, is going full on transhumanism. They’re trying to build themselves in the likeness of MEKHANE, to an incredibly literal extent. The Maxwellists overall seem to be a more “mind over matter” sect. I don’t think they’re trying to revoke every single organic material there is on themselves. They’re more focused on augmentations, improvements, making it easier for their minds to make a machine out of their bodies, without actually making it all metal. If Orthodoxy people would replace their entire limbs with new metal ones, Maxwellists would be more likely to wear an exoskeleton. Of course, this is ignoring prosthesis, in which case I’d assume every sect has something for that. Overall, instead of going we have to reassemble MEKHANE Themself, they’re more like we need to build our likenesses to resemble MEKHANE Themself.

Now, the reason why I made this change is the potential conflict there could be with the concept of substitutionary atonement. A quick explanation of what substitutionary atonement is, for those who might not know, is basically the whole “Jesus died for your sins” thing. MEKHANE broke Herself in order to cage Yaldabaoth, and now everyone needs to work to evoke Her image the best they can themself. Of course, there are going to be people who object to this ideology, but still believe/follow MEKHANE. These people are the classic “Let’s find all the parts of the Broken God and put Him back together!” followers that I’m assuming the CotBG was created for in the first place. Their work towards transhumanism is meant so that they can aid in combating and defeating Yaldabaoth once and for all, after reassembling MEKHANE. If MEKHANE wants us to be whole, then MEKHANE should be whole as well.

Adjacent to them, there are the Nalkans who are basically just like “Imagine following a god who hands you your transhumanism on a silver platter” [then again, I could easily shorten that to “Imagine following a god”]. This also falls in line with Nalkan beliefs [at least the newer interpretations of them], where they work to elevate themselves. Or only themself, if they’re one of the goddamn filthy capitalists [/lh]. They don’t believe in the sacrifice of one to benefit all. They either believe in the cooperation of all to benefit all, or capitalism [goddamn it, Neo Nalkans]. They would scoff at the idea of following any entity and making themselves in that entity’s likeness. They’re gonna take their flesh and make it however they want it to be like, fuck any entity who tries to tell them otherwise.

And now, for the part you’ve all been waiting for, how does the Foundation fit in here. Well, I’d say they’re practically high on substitutionary atonement. Look no further than the phrase “We die in the dark, so you can live in the light.” Though this is on the level of an entire group, they’re willing to put themselves through constant suffering in order to keep the world from ending. They stretch themselves thin in order to keep the Construct afloat. Hell, D-Class are promised atonement if they aid in the containment of different SCPs, and survive. But this will never come, as they aren’t the ones who will be atoned. The Foundation is trying their hardest to keep humanity from being damned. And, surprisingly enough, so is the GOC.

In the Operative’s Handbook, there are two main headers: “You are expendable” and “You are not disposable.” The section labeled “You are expendable” explains how, out of the billions of people alive, you must be willing to sacrifice yourself in order to protect them. For “You are not disposable,” they clarify that the person can’t just throw themself around, because they have limited resources. Overall, this is a similar attitude to what the Foundation feels, though for the Foundation, it’s less given through order in a handbook and more inherited from the culture surrounding the group. Both the Foundation and the GOC, though in opposition over what to do with dangerous anomalies, still follow the idea of substitutionary atonement. They’re both standing on the front lines of a threat that could destroy humanity, and they’re allowing themselves to bear that brunt.

And there really isn’t much opposition to those two doing that shit on site. Like, yeah, you’ll have the Foundation undermine the GOC, GOC undermine the Foundation, UIU might get something in against either one of them, but overall, nobody’s really complaining about the whole substitutionary atonement thing. I’m not counting the Serpent’s Hand or Chaos Insurgency in this, they’re both too disorganized to count. Though, having a cell of either one of those groups being opposed to the Foundation and/or GOC because of the reason that no group should have to condemn themselves to suffering would be an interesting thing to see.

Treading into the land of Personal Canon, the conflict within the Normalcy Org. gang arises when the Foundation expects other groups/people to throw themselves to the front lines “for the sake of the Veil/Construct.” The choice is simple to them, one or a few people’s lives or the Veil/Construct. And the answer is simple as well, a handful of people is nothing compared to reality as a whole, therefore they should be down to sacrifice themselves. The UNGOC, being the distant oversight group that they are, are totally down with this. Groups nearer to Normalcy, however, don’t agree with this. For them, a life, human or otherwise, is still just as precious as anything else. For them, even if it might risk the collapse of the Veil or destruction of the Construct, they want to find a way for everyone to get out alive.

Drawing from An Unconventional Tail, the UIU- and, in extent, JOVE- is better at minimizing injuries and casualties than the Foundation is, most likely because their first thought is “How can I solve this without harming anyone” instead of “How can I solve this with the least casualties.” They go in with the idea of no man left behind, the Foundation wouldn’t feel as bad if a handful died. In theory, the UNGOC would be closer towards the UIU but even site canon says they’re willing to discard “Protection” for the sake of “Survival.”

Now, I’m not saying any group is in the wrong here. Each group’s goals call for different mentalities and beliefs. However, that must be kept in mind when each of them are interacting with each other, and that’s when the problems arise. When there’s a failure to understand the, well, culture surrounding the other group, you’ll get conflict.

Moral of the story aside, that’s all I have for this so far. Expect to see this pop up in whatever stuff I write, if I ever end up posting that shit on here.

[hermannsthumb]

Prompt: Newt has never seen the appeal of threesomes, frankly. They seem like more trouble than they're worth. But now there's two Hermanns standing in front of him, and his first thought (after "Did I take my meds?" , "Do I need new glasses?" , and "What the fuck is happening?") is that he needs both of them, immediately.

Anonymous said: Prompt (if you haven't written it already!) where due to time travel shenanigans, newt gets spit roasted by hermann(s)

i love how many requests i get for this kinda stuff HAHAHAH i technically have written this three times before, but in honor of newt’s birthday, let’s go for a fourth! MAJOR not sfw below cut!!!

----------

Newt is distracted as hell when he half-jogs into the lab one otherwise ordinary birthday afternoon, which might explain why he doesn’t see that there are two Hermanns at first. There’s too much on his mind—picking a club for tonight, what dissections he has to get done today before they can go out to a club, whether or not he remembered to wash his sexy club clothes, and if it even matters, because they’re just gonna get covered in glitter again. Whether or not the barista got Hermann’s coffee order right this time. Whether or not the special birthday breakfast pastries survived the journey. “It’s pouring out there,” he complains to Hermann, pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes and scraping his boots off on the pathetic rubber mat they keep in the doorway. “If it doesn’t let up, we might wanna reconsider going out tonight.”

“Newton,” Hermann says.

“Sweaty, wet bodies in a small room? Gross. No thanks.” Newt inspects the pastries: the brown wrappings of the one on top are slightly water-logged, but the pastry itself is fine. Perfect. “We could just rent a movie.”

“Newton,” Hermann says.

“And order some pizza.” Man, that’d make for a nice birthday. All cozied up in Newt’s bed with a monster movie and pizza. “Actually, let’s do that instead. I kinda wanted to go dancing, but—”

Hermann bangs his cane against the floor. It echoes strangely, almost as if he’s doing it twice at once, and Newt turns to him in confusion—or, as he discovers, them. He drops his pastry. He polishes his glasses free of water, and crams them back onto his face. He blinks a few times. “Oh, shit,” he says. “Dude, there are two of you.”

“I know,” both Hermanns say, and roll their eyes.

Newt approaches them cautiously. Two Hermanns. One of them is undoubtedly Newt’s Hermann, judging by his bad haircut, bad glasses, and bad clothing, which is the same boring slacks and sweater combo he was wearing when Newt left for coffee an hour ago. The other Hermann is a Hermann unlike one Newt’s ever seen before, clad in dark colors, with hair cropped somewhat more evenly and twice as many wrinkles around his eyes. Not two Hermanns—it can’t be two Hermanns. That’s a scientific impossibility. “Your brother,” Newt says. He knows Hermann has an older one, though the odds of Hermann having an older brother who uses a cane identical to his, on the same side as his, is a little slim.

“No,” Hermann says.

“You cousin?” Newt says.

“No,” the other Hermann says, but the corner of his mouth twitches up with an obvious fondness. “Your earlier assessment was correct, I’m afraid. There are two of me.”

Newt glances between them again. Same soft, brown eyes; same dark eyelashes; same weird, wide lips; same elegant cheekbones. Is Newt dreaming? No, he’s sure he’s not dreaming—it’s too, like, real to be a dream. (Besides, Newt’s brain is never this kind to him, and if it was, he would’ve just skipped the boring build-up and gone straight to the threeway.) Is he having some sort of a mental break, brought on by stress, or forgetting to take his meds somewhere along the line? Unlikely—Newt’s been way more stressed before, and he’s skipped his meds before, and he’s never had a reaction like this. It must be real. “Well, shit,” he finally says. “Hermann, this is the best birthday present ever.”

“Er,” Newt’s Hermann says. “It is?”

Newt cups the side of the new Hermann’s face, feeling it, inspecting it, reveling in the warmth of his skin. Yep—real, definitely real. Real and handsome. Newt pats his cheek. “You cloned yourself just so we could have an awesome birthday threesome,” Newt says. “That’s really touching, Hermann, seriously. I promise I won’t let you down.”

“No,” Hermann says. “That’s not—”

New Hermann gently places his hand over Newt’s, leaning into his touch, and smiles. There’s a hint of sadness to it Newt doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not a clone, darling,” he says.

“Oh, I like him,” Newt says. “He’s nicer. Definitely not a clone, then. Who are you, then, hot stuff?”

“He’s—oh.” Hermann sighs. “It all sounds so silly when I try to say it out loud. He’s from the future, Newton.”

Newt hums, considering New Hermann. Yeah, that makes more sense. Eye wrinkles. However far off in the future he’s from, apparently he’s picked up a bit more fashion sense by then, and maybe even a bit of style. “You came back in time just to have an awesome birthday threesome with me?” Newt guesses.

New Hermann laughs. Eye wrinkles, style, and apparently some sort of major head injury where he forgets how bad he and Newt hate each other. The future is now, or whatever. “Truthfully,” he says, “arriving on your birthday was unintentional. It’s difficult to get exact dates correctly with the sort of technology I was using, you see.”

“Apparently there’s some great big event that happens in 2035 that it’s absolutely imperative he warn us about,” Hermann says.

That’s a bit of a let down. Still cool by virtue of time travel, Newt guesses, but awesome birthday threesome would’ve been more exciting. “Oh,” he says. A let down, and a shame, really, because 11-years-into-the-future Hermann is pretty sexy, and Newt was hoping for the chance to get his hands on some of that. Or maybe get those hands on him. He’s not picky. “I mean,” he tries, one last desperate attempt, “what’s the rush, you know? You can always tell us afterwards.”

“Afterwards?” Future Hermann says.

“Afterwards,” Newt repeats. He grabs Future Hermann by the lapels of his dark labcoat and smiles cheekily. “You can spare a couple hours, can’t you, dude? For the birthday boy?”

A sudden warmth blooms behind the future Hermann’s eyes; his mouth stretches into a smile of his own, goofy and affectionate. Future Hermann sure seems to like him. Newt hasn’t got a problem with that in the slightest, actually. “Er, a couple,” he stammers, and Newt hears Hermann—his Hermann—inhale sharply, like he’s just been offended to the utmost degree. “I suppose that’s— Well, I suppose there’s no real problem there. It’s not as if I’m on a schedule. Time travel. After all.”

“After all,” Newt says. “What about you, Hermann?

Newt’s Hermann is silent for a little too long to be anything but considering. “Er,” he says.

“Good,” Newt says.

--------

“Alright, boys,” Newt says, “I’m not as young as I used to be, so I can’t promise I’m very good at this anymore.”

“Anymore?” Newt’s Hermann says.

Newt winks at him over his shoulder. He has a witty joke on the edge of his tongue, but it dies when the Hermann in front of him (older, nicer Hermann) begins to tenderly stroke his jaw without warning. “You’ve always been so handsome,” Hermann says. His hand trails up the side of Newt’s face and stops in his hair, where he begins to twirl a strand around his finger. Newt shivers. “I could stare at you all day.”

“That’s kinda creepy, Hermann,” Newt says. “And cute, I guess? Okay, here goes.”

He opens his mouth wide and takes in Hermann’s—the new Hermann’s—dick as deep as he can, which is somewhere around the three-fourths mark. He used to be a lot better at deep-throating in his twenties. Also, Hermann is somewhat very well-endowed. “Bugger,” the future Hermann moans. His eyes flicker shut, and his grip in Newt’s hair tightens, and Newt feels a surge of pride. He’s always loved being able to turn Hermann to jelly like this, and apparently some things never chance. He hopes future Newt is still giving it to Hermann like this. “Newton, that’s marvelous.”

“Oh, by Jove,” Newt’s Hermann murmurs. He’s standing behind them at the edge of the bed, his knees braced against it gently. He’s also undoubtedly enjoying the view. Newt smiles around Hermann’s dick (puffing out his cheeks for show, just a little), and wriggles his ass obnoxiously at his Hermann. He needed the guy inside of him five minutes ago, goddamn it. Hermann seems to get the hint: there’s a shaking hand placed on his hip, a lone finger prodding his lube-slick entrance to check he’s properly prepared, and then Hermann’s dick sliding into him inch-by-inch. Newt moans. 

“Newton,” the two Hermanns groan out in near-unison, the one as Newt begins to bob his head up and down his dick, the other as he bottoms out and his pelvis hits Newt’s ass.

Newt pulls his mouth off of Hermann’s dick for only a second. “Fuck me already,” he begs. His voice is raspy even to his own ears.

He’s not sure which Hermann he’d intended to direct the plea towards, but both take it to heart: the Hermann behind Newt begins to rock in and out of him, picking up speed with each little thrust, while the Hermann in front of Newt pushes his dick back between Newt’s lips and begins a series of shallow thrusts of his own. Newt feels speared open, and used; Newt feels fucking awesome. “Mm,” he moans. He ruts against the bedsheets lazily.

“Wait, wait,” the Hermann fucking his mouth suddenly says, voice breathless. “Your—ah—your timing is not quite right.”

“It most certainly is right,” the Hermann in his ass huffs. “You’re meant to be following my lead. Yours is off.”

“Hardly,” the first Hermann says. “Stop moving—we need a bloody rhythm. We needn’t overwhelm Newton.”

Both of them still. Newt hears them debating how to proceed in a series of hissed whispers (though he’s too busy happily sucking on Hermann’s dick to bother with proper eavesdropping), and then the Hermann behind him is pulling out, while the Hermann in front of him pushes further into his mouth and down his throat. Newt’s throat burns pleasurably; his eyes begin to water, and he gags very slightly. “There we are,” the first Hermann continues in a grunt. “Now—” He pulls out until the wet head of his dick is just grazing Newt’s lips, while the other Hermann pushes back into Newt’s ass. “Much neater.”

Newt swallows down a hysterical laugh, or maybe it’s more of a whimper, and just grins instead. “You guys work it out?”

“Shut it,” the Hermann behind him gasps. He grinds deep in Newt, hitting all the right spots, and Newt is grateful for the return of the other Hermann’s dick in his mouth to muffle him before he can really make an embarrassing sound.

They keep up the pattern for all of five minutes, which Newt is pretty impressed with. Slowly, though, they start to get impatient; lingering too long inside of Newt, or pulling out a bit too slowly, or jumping the gun just a bit too early to rock back in. The Hermann in behind is the first to snap and forgo it entirely, suddenly gripping onto Newt’s waist and pounding into him as hard as he can. Not that Newt is complaining. “Ah, Newton, that’s so—” he moans, and Newt rewards him with a little teasing squeeze, “I—”

“Mmhm,” Newt says. Part of him wants to start worrying about his own orgasm, but honestly, he’s enjoying this too much. 

Getting an idea, he pulls his mouth off of Hermann and replaces it with his hand. Hermann always gets really embarrassed when Newt lets him come on his face, and he’s curious about if that’s changed in eleven years. “This feels so awesome,” he says. He begins jerking Hermann off quickly, barely a centimeter from his lips. He’s sure he’s gonna say some dumb shit—he loses his mouth to brain filter (which already works at minimum capacity) completely when he’s this turned on. “So, so awesome. I wanna do it again with both of you guys in my ass or something, but I want you to come all over me first, fuck yeah, come on, Hermann, do it—”

“Newton!” the Hermann above him chokes out, throwing a hand over his eyes, which gives Newt all the warning he needs to stick his tongue out and catch a small portion of his jizz. The rest makes a mess of his glasses. Kinda gross. Pretty hot, too.

He’s not surprised when he feels the Hermann behind him stiffen and come in him only a second later, cursing and gasping—he really does like to see Newt messy.

While they both collapse to the bed and attempt to catch their breath, Newt rubs his fingers through the mess one Hermann made of his face and uses it as lube to stroke himself off. He doesn’t take very long, either, considering this is definitely one of the hottest things to ever happen to him. Top five birthdays for sure.

“So,” he says, ten minutes later. He’s positioned himself in bed as the middle of the Hermann sandwich. Both Hermanns (arms draped around Newt) look at him, but Newt only looks back at Future Hermann. “What did you come here to tell us?”

“Oh,” Future Hermann says. He blushes. “Er. Right.”