#and how shes physically apart from the two and while shes able to process change better and she knows nothing could tear their bond

[anachronisims]

How to EFFECTIVELY Use Empty Standby List to Reduce Flashing and Crashing

This tutorial is for TS2. Obviously. This is virtually the last "chapter" of advice for the Pink Flashing Survey Report (still forthcoming as a single readable thing but posted in bits and pieces over the last six months). PS it's a lonnnnnnng post. Ctrl+F "tldr" for the very short version once you open the cut.

"Part 1" of the Empty Standby List ("ESL") tutorial was already written comprehensively with screenshots by Digi at her wordpress. Following Digi's tutorial will get you set up with ESL as a routine automated background task your computer runs, typically every five minutes.

@gayars set up two instances of the routine, each running every five minutes, staggered two/three minutes apart. In other words, task 1 runs at 12:00, task 2 runs at 12:03, task 1 runs at 12:05, task 2 runs at 12:08, etc. However, I found that this negatively impacted the graphical performance of my game, notably by having the ESL task window flash over the game window, which I had never seen before, nor since reverting back to a single 5-minute task routine.

Anyway. Go do Digi's tutorial if you haven't already; I'll wait.

Background on Why this Matters

So, now your computer will be wiping the standby memory every five minutes. The thing is, this won't be able to have much impact on your game unless you wait to let it wipe before you do a major loading action.

Major loading actions are, in general order of strain (most to least strenuous):

Loading a full neighborhood.

Loading a large (3x4 or bigger) populated lot.

Loading a large unpopulated lot.

Loading actual CAS, if you have a lot of non-defaulted CC.

Loading a medium (3x3) populated lot.

Loading a medium unpopulated lot.

Loading a small (2x3 or smaller) populated lot.

Loading a small unpopulated lot.

Loading CAS catalogs from within a lot (e.g. using FFS clothing tool, "Change Appearance" on the mirror, shopping for clothes/trying on clothes on a community lot).

Turning up your lot view settings (generating other lots' lot imposters within your current lot)/panning the camera around.

You should already be doing at least all medium- and large-lot loading with the Lot View Settings Juggling Method, and “uint LotSkirtIncrease” removed from your userstartup.cheat - otherwise whenever you load a lot you are compounding the strain by also having the neighborhood load at the same time.

Using Resource Monitor Effectively

If you watched the Jessa Channel tutorial on flashing, she recommended downloading a third-party RAM usage monitoring software. This is unnecessary. For purposes of reducing your crashing, all you need is the native Windows program "Resource Monitor" that she also recommends.

To open it:

Click the Windows symbol/start menu.

Begin typing "Resource Monitor."

Click Resource Monitor when it shows up.

Once it is open, get to the useful information:

Click the "Memory" tab.

Make sure the "Processes" and "Physical Memory" subs are fully open, as above.

Sort by "Commit (KB)."

Each time you reopen Resource Monitor, it should restore your last view settings, so you won't have to repeat these steps.

While Resource Monitor is still open, "Pin" it to the taskbar so it will always be readily accessible.

Right-click the icon on the taskbar.

Click "Pin to taskbar."

If it says "Unpin from taskbar" you have already done this step :)

Now comes the monitoring part. You will focus on the dark-blue "Standby" block of the bar graph on Physical Memory.

Every fifth minute, when the ESL task runs, this will flash down to 0 and then pop up to about 30-75, depending on what you are doing. It will go higher faster if you are doing stuff, obviously, and hover pretty low if your computer is just sitting still. TLDR the remainder of this tutorial: only take stress actions when Standby is below 100.

As we all know too well, TS2 has a 4gb RAM limit. The problem is, TS2 seems to count the memory that is in standby, too, not just the committed/working set. Thus, before you take a major loading action (that is going to push up to 1.5gb into Standby), you need to wait for Standby to wipe so the game doesn't accidentally think it's using more memory than it is. Got it?

This is how much RAM my game is using when my neighborhood opens, pretty closely zoomed in on any particular lot. If it is zoomed out further - like a whole city block - both committed and working set are easily over 2.2gb. When I pan around the neighborhood, it continues going up. Portions of the hood that go back out of view seem to get relegated to standby, but yes, my game has crashed just from looking too much at my neighborhood from too wide an angle. Unless I slow down and let ESL run before moving on to the next section.

Six months of diligent Resource Manager monitoring has resulted in substantial reductions of crashing and flashing on my first hood view load and first lot view load. It is not 100% guaranteed, but it cuts it back to Very Playable Levels. And when I have tested the theory by purposefully not letting ESL run before a stress point, it always flashes and/or crashes within the next couple minutes.

SO! Here's what I do when I'm launching my game.

Because of overheating concerns, I always fully shut down my computer when I'm not using it for more than an hour. If I have been playing and experience a flash or crash, I will restart before trying again. @infinitesimblr, a survey Respondent who reported virtually no flashing or crashing despite a vast CC catalog, also recommends restarting between using Bodyshop or SimPE and the full game. I have found it may make a difference with Bodyshop (which I use too rarely to make a pseudoscientific claim) but that I have found basically no impact going from SimPE to the game. YMMV.

Immediately after Windows is done loading, I open Resource Monitor and wait a few minutes. Often background updates begin running and the Standby bar goes crazy - sometimes filling up the entire available RAM - and I just let it sit and do its thing. (Usually I start the computer right before my kid's bedtime so I am not actively waiting on it or anything. Go take a shower or make a sandwich or drink some water, like you did in the old days when the game itself took 20 minutes to load.)

Once the standby bar levels out and is consistently peaking no higher than about 250mb between ESL wipes, after the next ESL wipe, I will launch the game. (Usually between logging into Windowsat the beginning of storytime and checking Resource Monitor before we go do tuck-in, it is reliably hanging out below 100 unless a big TS4 or Windows update was downloading.)

Reminder: do not delete thumbnails anymore prior to launching the game. I also have turned off RPC's clear caches option and have observed faster loading times with minimal increases in crashing.

After the neighborhood selection screen comes up, wait for ESL to run again before opening your neighborhood.

If you have continue to have more than VERY sporadic hood load flashing after taking these steps, you should try launching into a subhood if you have one, then pivoting to the main hood if that's where you're playing that session after yet another ESL wipe. If that doesn't help you simply need to thin out your hood or accept the flashing. (I ended up deleting about 25% of my deco trees and 10-15 outer-lying lots that will be re-placed in a subhood.)

After the hood is loaded, navigate to the lot you want, but DO NOT actually load that lot until ESL runs yet again. Ditto for CAS - Do not select "Create New Family" until ESL has run again.

Play should be proceed as normal at this point. You probably don't need to alt-tab back to Resource Monitor again unless your sims are going traveling or you are changing play lots.

BONUS TIP #1: You can put a shortcut to the ESL routine on your desktop and push it manually (just double click the icon) if you don't feel like waiting once the game is loaded. I have had imperfect results with this vs. just waiting the five minutes, though, because the game wants to run through some stuff and flush it. But it's an option for you to experiment with.

BONUS TIP #2: If you have a really deep clothing/hair CC catalog, try to avoid using the FFS clothing tool option where you select every outfit for the sim, and their hair and makeup, at the same time. Instead, choose individual outfits by type and use the regular mirror option to change appearance (or SimBlender has it, I think, so they can do it where they already are).

[calyxtri]

BisPearl - Fusion oneshot

It didn’t happen often. In fact, as of lately, this was the first time in a long while. Though, no matter how long it had been, they always fell into this as if it were a routine. Hands knew where to go, like chess pieces on the board, their moves planned out ahead of time. Feet planted themselves rhythmically along the ground. And yet, this still all felt so new to them. They were still learning each time their skin touched or the syncopation of their minds moulded together. It felt right. It felt like love.

Strength. That was a word she came back to time and time again. A word she never saw to describe herself as. No, that was a word for other people in her life. Her leader, the one who inspired and began this uprising. Her good friend, the one who had love to spare, even when she was still figuring her own self out. Her lover, the one who seemed to disembody enemies with a mere touch and a grin. She saw herself as graceful, precise, calculated, almost fragile. But not strong, no. She needed the help of others to make herself feel strong. She needed Bismuth. 

And now, the larger woman’s hands along her waist and her wooly locks falling along her shoulders, she had what she wanted. What she needed. All her precision and skill was put to use as Bismuth spun her around, twirling her with ease and dancing along with her. Little things changed about their dance each time it was performed; a side step instead of a sashae, a spin in place of a hop, sometimes the dance lasting much longer than before, or even much shorter. As long as they stayed in contact with each other, that was what mattered. Bismuth picked her up carefully by her waist, giving her a spin before holding her close and kissing her. It was magical. Almost as magical as their physical forms, seeming liquescence as they blended with one another. 

Light flashed, gemstones intertwined, and like that it was all over. She stood in the dark cave, opening her eyes before stretching all four of her arms individually. This still felt so alien to the both of them, still felt so unnatural to be two beings in a part of one being. It was like they were gone. Like their original forms had just vanished while this one had appeared. Their entirety on this planet vanished to make this, Rainbow Topaz. 

Their bodies coalescing like this made a new gem, her hair long and fuzzy, tied back into a loose bun. Her skin was a light pale blue, her arms toned and long like the rest of her body. She liked being herself, as now she was bigger than the other strong gems. She was so tall in fact that she had to crouch in Bismuth’s normally perfectly sized workspace.  

RT grinned, hugging herself and letting her eyes close in glee. She had to give this time before showing the others. They could never know. This was their secret. 

She had to unfuse soon, before their team returned and questioned their absence. RT sighed in realization, looking down at her four hands and closing them gently into giant fists. It was time to go. Time to be rid of this form for who knows how long and fight along the battlefield separately. To only spare passing, longing glances or a hug that lasted a second too long. They never liked leaving.

Unfusing was probably the only bad thing about this experience. The cold vulnerability while they broke apart from their larger form, the light flashing once more and their gems asunder. She felt almost nude, exposed in a way that she couldn’t really explain but the feeling felt so familiar that she was able to remember it so vividly as they gently broke apart. She wondered if someone as strong and brilliant as Bismuth felt the same way. Certainly not. A woman as unyielding and strategic, someone as seemingly perfect as Bismuth couldn’t feel so petty as she felt at that moment… right?

They ended the unfusing process with her in Bismuth’s arms, caressing the larger gem’s face lovingly. Everything they did together was gentle and lovely, and so graceful, as if they were performing. And that’s exactly what made this so good. The knowing love that they shared and the unbreakable force that drew them together back to moments like this time and time again. At times, it was frightening. Finishing sentences for each other, the dread of having to be away from one another for longer than a day, and even the sheer anxiety that went along with them out onto the battlefield side by side. It was torture.

And yet, they still found themselves sitting in moments like this one, holding each other and saying nothing, as just their presence was enough to quell the mounting worry that came along with their relationship. That’s what made them so attuned with one another. Their imperfections. Nobody was perfect, but even if she was just a Pearl, she had her Bismuth to bring out the things she was good at all by herself.

[homestuckreplay]

dskjhsdk

(page 520-532)

8/22/2009 Wheel Spin: being silly :3c Verdict: TWO GREAT PUNS

8/23/2009 Wheel Spin: Character Switch Verdict: <3 Forever John <3

We continue to progress through Sburb in leaps and bounds, with only a brief interruption from Dave to discuss puppet anatomy in lurid detail. I’m so delighted to finally see the punch designix in action. My headcanon is that its keyboard has really great keys to press, the kind that make a satisfying click clack when tapped. And the noise when the card itself get punched by the machine? Man I wish that page had sound.

It’s helpful that this machine gives instructions. Would have been nice if the alchemiter did that too, you know, when John was four minutes and thirteen seconds away from a violent death. The comic spends longer (by number of pages) figuring out the designix than any other machine, which makes me think this one is really important, presumably for punch card alchemy. The process, in short, is to captchalogue an item, read the item’s unique alphanumeric captcha code from the card, type that code into the keyboard, and punch physical holes into the card the item is stored on. This traps the item, but presumably allows it to be produced by the alchemiter, following the same cruxite dowel → totem lathe → alchemiter process as the pre-punched card.

We saw with the ‘perfectly generic objects’ made by an uncarved dowel that the totems can be used multiple times, so this is a great way to duplicate objects – I would recommend more captchalogue cards, based on John’s current woes – although this will likely cost build grist, which is already at a premium. But for this to be a true alchemical process – transmuting a substance into another, more valuable substance – there needs to be a way to modify objects with predictable results. The hammer’s code is ‘nZ7Un6BI’ but what if John typed in ‘mZ7Un6BI’ or ‘Zn7Un6BI’ ‘Nz7uN6bi’ or ‘IB6nU7Zn’ or ‘nZ7UnGAY’? Could these slight modifications produce variations on a hammer, or items similar to a hammer? Are there rules that govern how an item would change based on how its code is altered? Would this look something like computer programming, forcing John to actually stick to his hobby instead of abandoning his code files on his desktop when they get too hard?

Captcha codes are designed to let humans browse the internet while stopping computer programs from attacking websites – so what’s the equivalent here? My guess is that although we’ve seen the imps in John’s house make use of strife cards, they and other NPCs won’t be able to decipher the captchas on the back of cards. They can use basic inventory mechanics, but wouldn’t be able to perform alchemy, which is what sets the player apart. I’m not sure about Nannasprite though. As someone who is both human and computer program, could she decipher a captcha?

Every time John mentions his dad, wanting to find him or wishing he was around to get some additional shaving cream, my heart breaks a little bit. He reminds me of a kid who’s gone away to camp for the first time and is really excited for some independence but ends up getting homesick. John keeps putting that bunny back in the box and every time, he’s referencing a scene where a dad risks his life just to get a gift to his daughter on her birthday, and… I can’t help but think that John’s thinking of reuniting with his dad every time he makes this reference, too.

Rose and Dave’s dynamic is fascinating to me. They should be studied by a team of world leading cognitive scientists. Rose is not at all taking Dave seriously while he’s lamenting entering the puppet singularity, and I wonder if he prefers it that way. As someone who’s not comfortable with emotional honesty, Dave might not want someone to respond with genuine sympathy, and by knowing that Rose will keep to a suitable number of layers of irony, Dave trusts Rose and can be more open with her. From this conversation (p.522) I feel like Dave has a campaign of one-upmanship with Rose like he does with his bro, except with Rose they’re on equal footing. Also I don’t think Rose’s poem works as a rap but she’d kill it at slam poetry.

The puns are SO good. ‘Captchalogue’ referring to internet captcha codes as well as the cards ‘capturing’ items is a great payoff for a word we learned 500 pages ago, and ‘proboscalypse’ is. I don’t have words

[tinyinvadr]

Next chapter’s here!

Psychoborrower 2

Chapter 5

We were finally allowed back into the High Roller’s Lounge. Hollis barely acknowledged us as Raz tried to apologize. She was too preoccupied with gambling.

Then, suddenly, the tentacles I saw before burst into the room, ripping the walls apart until it was unrecognizable. The Mental Connection that Raz made floated before us as a pair of huge eyes, belonging to the Lady Luctopus herself.

She was a fusion between Raz’s Mental Connection and Bad Ideas, and took on the appearance of both the casino’s mascot and Hollis.

The room had become a blackjack table, complete with massive cards and chips. As for the interns, they had been transformed into joker cards, and Lucky was holding them hostage.

Raz and I tried PSI-Blasting her, but she was virtually indestructible. Nothing seemed to be working as she kept throwing cards and spitting explosive Bad Ideas at us. We were able to dodge her attacks, but we could only do that for so long.

From her place on my shoulder, Lori tapped on the side of my face.

“Psst, Flint! I have an idea!”

“Whatcha got?”

“You see how she has covers over her suction cups? I bet those are her weak spots! And, with a little explosives…”

She used her Telekinesis to grab a Bad Idea and throw it at her tentacle, forcing her to drop Adam and Lizzie.

The two of them were able to escape using their smelling salts, and Lucky was temporarily stunned from the explosion. Raz took that opportunity to blast his way up into her head and work on forcing her connection apart.

We continued on with this strategy to save the rest of the interns, and finally, the inciting connection was destroyed. Lucky let out one last dying scream as she vanished from Hollis’ mind. However, even after she was gone, there was still damage to be undone. It looked like it would take a while to turn the casino back into a normal hospital.

The blackjack table also disappeared, sending us free-falling until we landed outside the building. There we met Hollis, who had just come back to her senses.

“What is all this? This is all wrong! And what are you kids doing in here?”

She noticed Lori perched on my shoulder, and quickly picked her up, protectively holding her close.

“Oh, Lori, I told you not to come in here. You know it’s not safe. Are you alright? Did anything happen?”

“I’m okay. Raz and Flint took care of everything. I even helped defeat the Lady Luctopus!”

Lori paused for a second, then took on a more serious tone.

“Hey, Mom? I know how you always say that you don’t wanna force me to do Psychonaut stuff, but… I think I want to now. Getting to see these guys in action was amazing, and I feel like there’s so much more I could learn! Do you think there’s room for me in the intern program?”

Hollis sighed, giving a slight smile.

“I’ll see what I can do. We’ll talk more about this later.”

She pulled out her smelling salts and gave them to Lori so she could return to the physical world, leaving just the three of us.

As soon as Lori was gone, Hollis’ expression changed. She was furious.

“Would either of you care to explain what happened here?”

At that, Raz told her everything. He made sure to make it clear to her that I wasn’t involved in the process of altering her mind, and that I was only there to help fix it.

I stood by, feeling the dread build up. Of course, Raz needed to come clean about this. But at the same time, I didn’t want him to get kicked out of the Psychonauts. He was the whole reason I got as far as I did in the first place.

Clearly he felt horrible about what he did. He wanted a second chance, and he absolutely deserved one.

To my relief, Hollis felt the same.

She told us the story of how she made a similar mistake back when she worked at the hospital. The key difference was that she wasn’t able to reset the Mental Connection, and she had to call in the Psychonauts.

Even though she almost caused irreparable damage to her old boss, Truman saw potential in her, and gave her a second chance working for the Psychonauts instead. She learned to apply her powers the correct way, and came to understand what they’re truly meant for.

It’s a common misconception that the Psychonauts fix broken minds. But peoples’ problems can’t and shouldn’t be fixed by force. Our powers allow us to help and guide people on the path to healing. To show them how to face their inner demons, and fight alongside them.

With that in mind, we returned to the physical world. Hollis took control back over the mission, instructing Sasha and Milla so they could deactivate the PSI detectors and find the hotel room that the key we found on Nick Johnsmith belonged to.

Once we had our location, the North Tower penthouse, Raz and I were ready to investigate.

There wasn’t a direct path from our hotel room, so Gisu made a rail system to help us get there faster. Then, Morris gave us further assistance with some psychic trampolines.

We reached a locked hatch that led into the building, which Norma burned open with her Pyrokinesis. Unfortunately, by that point, the security system was back online. It didn’t take long for us to get cornered by drones. Luckily, Adam stepped in and took them out with his psychic yo-yo.

He knocked us out the window so we could avoid another drone, sending us sliding down the side of the building. Lizzie took over, making an icy ramp for us with her Cryokinesis. From there, Sam made her… contribution.

She summoned a whale at the end of the ramp, positioned directly so Raz and I would land in its blowhole. We were then shot out, landing directly on the penthouse balcony.

When we got to the hotel room, the first thing that hit us was a smell. A really, really bad smell. The source appeared to be several cans of caviar littered around the room. They looked like they’d been left out for a long time, and had since gone rotten.

The room was completely trashed. Stacks of dirty dishes were piled up all over the suite, trash cans were tipped over, and there were flies everywhere. Nick, or whoever was staying in this room, was not taking care of it.

One thing that stood out to me was a smashed, rusted birdcage in the corner of the room. The Lady Luctopus didn’t allow pets, so it was strange to see a cage in the room. Judging by its condition, the poor bird likely wasn’t treated well. I could only hope it was out flying free somewhere.

Hidden behind an octopus poster on the wall was a dark back room. All over the wall were newspaper clippings connected by red strings. The common theme? Maligula and the destruction of Grulovia.

One of them highlighted the alarming fact that Maligula’s body had been stolen from its grave. Hollis assured us that there wasn’t anything the culprit could do without her brain functioning, but the fact that someone was crazy enough to rob her grave was disturbing in and of itself.

On the desk beside the conspiracy board was a stack of books, all about necromancy. We took the whole stack, though there probably wasn’t anything useful in them. Sasha said it himself: necromancy is impossible.

Just as we were about to leave, Raz noticed a piece of paper taped to the wall. It was a picture of Lili, with a list of pros and cons about possibly recruiting her to turn against the Psychonauts. He took it off the wall and stuck it in his bag, and we headed back to regroup with the others.

“There’s nothing to worry about. Lili would never turn on her dad.”

Raz nodded. “I know, but I can’t let anyone else see this. She’s been through enough. I don’t want her to get interrogated over this. I’ll just ask her about it when we get back to HQ.”

Once everyone was back at the hotel room, we all boarded the jet and went straight back to the Motherlobe. During the flight, Sasha and Milla sifted through all of the books Raz and I found, but there was no indication of a suspect whatsoever.

The only lead we had to go off of was Nick, but that still didn’t add up. We found his brainless body stuffed in a cardboard box. There was no way he could’ve done it.

When we arrived at the Motherlobe, Hollis quickly escorted the other interns back to her classroom for debriefing. I didn’t join them, though, because Sasha asked to speak with me in his lab.

He placed me on his shoulder and was silent for the entire walk back to his lab. I could tell right away that this was about Hollis. He knew something happened to her during the mission, and she brushed him off when he tried to ask about it. I tried to keep my cool. He was reasonably upset, especially after being stuck in that vent all day.

We sat down at his desk, and after a moment, he finally spoke.

“What happened to Agent Forsythe today?”

I didn’t answer right away. I wasn’t about to lie to him, but I also felt guilty telling him about Raz when he wasn’t there to speak for himself. Sasha picked up on this immediately.

“The truth, Flint.”

I sighed. I didn’t like doing this, but Sasha deserved to know the truth.

“Raz made a Mental Connection to change her mind about letting us go on the casino mission. I tried to stop him, but Agent Forsythe forgave him, and he feels terrible about it. If the other interns hadn’t pressured him, he never would’ve-”

“Stop that.”

“Huh?”

“Flint… I know you care about your friend, but it’s not your responsibility to cover for him and clean up his messes. You should have told us what happened immediately. He almost caused irreparable damage to Hollis’ mind. Someone could have gotten hurt, or worse.”

He was right. I never should have kept this from him.

“I’m sorry…”

“I’m going to talk to Razputin about this in private. Ultimately, Hollis is the one with the authority to decide what his limitations are from now on. From the looks of it, it seems she’s going to let this slide as long as he doesn’t do it again. Personally, I think more restrictions are in order, at the very least.”

I nodded. It was only reasonable to have more restrictions in place after an incident like that. Raz was extremely lucky Hollis was willing to give him a second chance. Still, there was something I had to know.

“You don’t… hate Raz after this, do you?”

Sasha sighed. “No. I’m just very disappointed. But I recognize that this is a unique situation. He’s only ten years old. There’s still room for him to learn and grow from this, just as there is room for him to be led astray. The two of you are unlike anything the Psychonauts have ever encountered. The uncertainty of your futures is admittedly concerning. I just want you to know that the path you choose is ultimately up to you, and it doesn’t have to be the same as what Raz wants. This is your opportunity to figure out what being a Psychonaut means to you, Flint.”

What being a Psychonaut means to me… That was something I thought I already knew. I wanted to prove I could do it. That a borrower had a place in the PSI community. But it turned out that wasn’t something I needed to prove at all.

I was happy about that, I really was, but it was no longer my driving force. I got what I wanted, so what was next? Where was I supposed to go from there?

Sasha knew exactly what was on my mind. Makes sense, with him being psychic.

“Why don’t you take a break? Get yourself acclimated to the Motherlobe, talk to the other agents and interns, see if they need help with anything. It’s important to build a foundation with the community here. The more we understand each other, the better equipped we are to collaborate on future missions. I know this is still fairly new to you, but I believe you’ll benefit from this. The bond you have with Raz is something special, but there’s always room for more.”

With that in mind, I headed into the tunnels and returned to the lobby. By that point, Hollis had finished her debriefing, and I saw a few of the interns hanging around.

I wasn’t about to go talk to Norma, so I opted to go see Adam.

We talked for a bit about everything that happened. He expressed that he regretted standing by and allowing the prank on Raz to happen, as well as pushing him to make the Mental Connection. It wasn’t my place to forgive him, but I could tell he meant it, and I respected that.

Things have been hard for him ever since Truman was kidnapped. With his mentor out of commission the past few days, he’d been left without much to do. He explained that he was working on a report about all of the events that Truman missed so he could fill him in once he recovered from the Psilirium poisoning, though it was also in part to distract himself from how stressed he was deep down.

Being the oldest of the interns, Adam was viewed by the others as a leader of sorts. He was calm, collected, and the best person to go to for advice. But at the end of the day, he was still a teenager just like the rest of them.

“Hey, I get it. I used to put up a front all the time back at camp.”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask! What exactly happened back there with you and Raz? Did you really get to work with THE Ford Cruller?”

I was about to tell him when I heard an enraged scream followed by the smell of something burning. Lili.

“I’ll get back to you later. I should probably go talk to her before she breaks something else.”

I approached her, cautiously, waiting for her to calm down a little on her own before addressing her directly.

“Um… hey, Lili. Everything okay?”

“No. Raz just accused me of working with the mole!”

Oh God. I had a feeling that wouldn’t go well.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like-”

“Of course. Why should I expect you to do anything other than take his side?”

Ouch. She wasn’t wrong, but still. Ouch.

“Okay, how about this… Raz screwed up. Again. He does that a lot.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“But… it’s never coming from a bad place. He told me himself that he wanted you and only you to see that piece of evidence because he didn’t want the whole organization interrogating you. We know you would never turn against your dad, but there’s someone in the Psychonauts right now who did. I can’t speak for how Raz handled telling you, but at the end of the day, I know he just wants to keep you safe. After all, he loves yo…”

Mid-sentence I realized he might not be comfortable with me saying that to her, so I tried to cover it up.

“Yo-yos! Yep! That guy sure loves yo-yos!”

“I’m going through it right now so I’m just gonna pretend that last part made sense.”

“Thank you.”

Before things could get any more awkward, we were interrupted by the receptionist over the loudspeaker.

“Flint Loveseat… wait, is that right? Oh, that’s unfortunate. Uh, I mean… Flint Loveseat, please report to the reception area! You have visitors!”

“I have WHAT??”

Lili chuckled. “Need a lift? Or moral support?”

“Both please.”

She picked me up and brought me outside, where we were met with Mrs. Love. AKA, one of my family’s human hosts.

Even more surprising, though, was the person she held in her hand.

“Mom?!”

[just-emis-blog]

OC Interview Tag~

Thank you to @agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggieand @drchenquill for the triple threat tag! ✨🌻

I'll be using Cai Park (the youngest [but biggest] brother of Bernard) from Artificial Bonds

Were you named after anyone?

During the process of adopting us, mother encouraged us to choose names for ourselves, since we were going by serial numbers at the time. My siblings were enthused, but I thought the entire endeavor tedious and unnecessary, so in an effort to be done with it faster I spat out the first couple of letters from one of the objects in my line of vision. Mother was pleased, but Lysander and Bernard knew exactly what I had done and were disappointed and moronically amused respectively. Lysander, being the most sensible of the two as usual, convinced me to change the spelling and pronunciation as an exercise in expressing my opinion and creativity. To this day, however, Bernard still calls me "Cayenne Pepper" whenever he wants to get a rise out of me. It works.

When was the last time you cried?

I do not engage in such frivolous activities.

[It was when a mother duck was ushering one of her lagging babies across a busy highway]

Do you have any kids?

I do have one child. There are those who might mistakenly call her a pet, simply because of the unimportant fact that she is a Komodo Dragon named Jessica. But let me ask you this; would a mere pet have access to three floors of the apartment building that you own? Of course not. Now, I know some might have opinions about parents who provide housing or other monetary aid for their adult children. But to them I say the job market is not nearly as lucrative nor secure as it was for previous generations. Basic needs like gas and rusa deer are already set at astronomical prices! Are we expect our youth to be able to afford their own housing as well? There is no shame in supporting your kids until they can stand on their own feet.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I see no point in playing verbal games. So what you mean, or rot.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Their readiness for battle. Mind, your average person does not display the typical tells of being an experienced fighter or if their armed, but it is the first thing I check for during any interaction.

What is your eye color?

Dark brown. Nothing to write home about.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. They seem to be a prevalent theme in all of the Barbie and Magical Girl OVAs that I watch, and I enjoy those.

Any special talents?

I do...many of which I am not very proud of. The one talent I have cultivated outside of my...time...before I was adopted, is building miniature dollhouses and furniture. It is a both lucrative and enjoyable practice, and necessitates little to no violence.

Where were you born?

Born is the incorrect term. Regardless, I do not know the location. That time in my life is...blurry.

Do you have any pets?

No. But I do have a child. Please see the above question pertaining to children.

What sort of sports do you play?

Contact sports were too risky to indulge in, but I was on our school's competitive Hula Hooping team. We won two years in a row and during my last year of school we competed in the National Hula League. I am certain that it was due to all of our team's efforts, but my colleague's are convinced that we made it so far due to me being the first human being to ever look intimidating while hula hooping.

How tall are you?

6'4". A perfectly respectful, not comparable to any of the AoT Titans, height. Bernard.

What was your favorite subject in school?

Art class, specifically ceramics.

What is your dream job?

My dream job was anything as separated from fighting as physically possible. Not because I fear I will be overcome with a thirst for violence, or that I have no control over myself. If I or my loved ones are threatened I will act accordingly.

In the past I was told that fighting was all I would be capable of doing. So, I suppose I have always wanted my career to be the exact opposite of that out of spite.

And I cannot think of anything more opposite than selling a multitude of tiny wares specifically for hamsters on Etsy. Nor more satisfying.

Tagging for funsies: @dyrewrites @the-golden-comet @the-ellia-west @mr-orion

[memorisofstripper]

From Stripper to Survivor: How Prison Helped Me Reclaim My Life

Many people consider life behind bars to be the worst kind of punishment—a place where one's liberties are taken away, where hope wanes, and where one feels trapped and damaged. However, one woman's experience with the harsh realities of American incarceration turned out to be the unanticipated means of taking back her life. The author of From Stripper to Survivor: How Prison Helped Me Reclaim My Life discusses her life-changing experience, which involved moving from the shallow world of stripping to the introspective and occasionally agonizing process of self-discovery and healing while incarcerated. Her memoir tells a story of loss, redemption, and the strength to rebuild from the ground up. Stripping was a life she thought would bring her control, freedom, and validation. But it wasn’t until she found herself in a prison cell that she truly began to understand what it meant to be free.

The Illusion of Control: Life on the Stage The author was leading two separate lives prior to her imprisonment. At first glance, she seemed strong, self-assured, and in control. She commanded attention and had power as a stripper. Her body served as her money, her pass to both emotional and material security. She was surrounded by music, dazzling lights, and admiration from strangers who only glimpsed her true self. But underneath the glitter and glamour, she was running from something deeper. She sought validation from the eyes of men, from the applause of the crowd, and from the money she earned. These external rewards, though seemingly powerful, only reinforced her feelings of emptiness and self-doubt. Stripping became a way to mask the insecurities that had haunted her for years—insecurities tied to her past, to her sense of self-worth, and to the trauma she had never fully dealt with. The stage was a performance, but it wasn’t just for the audience. It was a performance she put on for herself—an act of survival in a world that made her feel invisible unless she could show something beautiful and alluring. And yet, no matter how many men threw dollar bills at her, no matter how many hours she spent on that stage, she was never truly seen. She remained disconnected from her true self.

The Fall: How Prison Changed Everything The author's familiar existence abruptly fell apart when she was imprisoned. The audience dispersed, the clapping subsided, and she found herself in a sterile, frigid cell—a far cry from the glamorous evenings of her previous existence. She had no idea what prison would be like. It seemed like the worst kind of punishment—a total loss of autonomy. However, in the silence and isolation of prison, the author was forced to face herself in ways she never had before. The very thing she had feared the most—the stripping away of her identity and all external validation—became the catalyst for her greatest transformation. Without the mask of a performer, the applause of others, or the approval she once craved, she was left with only one thing: herself. In that confinement, the author realized that true freedom wasn’t about the absence of physical barriers—it was about breaking free from the emotional and mental barriers she had built over her life. It was about peeling back the layers of guilt, shame, and insecurity that had kept her locked in a cycle of self-doubt.

Confronting the Past: The Healing Process The author was at last able to face her past after the outer world's distractions were removed. She started to delve further into the unresolved trauma from her early years, the poisonous relationships she had experienced, and the decisions she had made out of desperation or fear. It was a difficult and frequently painful journey. However, she discovered a new type of freedom behind the prison walls: the ability to confront the things that had imprisoned her for so long. Through therapy, journaling, and self-reflection, the author began the difficult process of healing. She learned to forgive herself for the mistakes she had made, to release the guilt that had burdened her for years, and to accept that she was worthy of love and peace—regardless of her past. The scars of her old life—her old identity—began to fade, not because they were forgotten, but because she had learned to live with them and embrace them as part of her story. Spirituality also played a key role in her healing. In prison, where she had no distractions, she began to seek solace in prayer, meditation, and quiet reflection. These practices became the foundation for her emotional and mental health, offering her a sense of peace amidst the chaos of her surroundings. It was here that she found a deeper connection to herself and the strength to move forward.

Survival and Reclamation: Building a New Life The author came to the conclusion that accepting responsibility for her own recovery and development was the most effective thing she could do while she processed her history. She had used stripping as a coping mechanism for her suffering and anxieties. But while inside, she found the strength to flourish—not by seeking approval from others, but by taking back her own authority. She recognized that survival wasn’t just about escaping physical confinement—it was about learning how to live authentically, to trust herself, and to make choices that honored her true worth. Stripping away the layers of shame, guilt, and insecurity allowed her to rediscover her voice and her purpose. When she finally left prison, the author was a different person. She was no longer the woman who sought validation from others or lived in the shadow of her past. She had learned that true freedom came from embracing her vulnerability, accepting her imperfections, and living a life true to herself. No longer needing to perform for anyone, she became her own source of power and strength.

Conclusion: From Stripper to Survivor The compelling memoir From Stripper to Survivor: How Prison Helped Me Reclaim My Life provides an unapologetic glimpse into the intricacies of personal change. It is a tale of surviving, of reclaiming a life that had previously seemed gone, and of finding strength in the most unexpected places. The author learned that prison, which was previously perceived as a place of punishment, was actually the place where she gained her genuine emancipation via the harsh process of self-reflection and healing. Her story is one of hope—reminding us that no matter how far we have strayed or how trapped we feel in our own lives, it is never too late to reclaim our power, rewrite our story, and step into a life of self-love, authenticity, and purpose.

[meltlilies]

🥀🧣🍄? :)

🥀 (wilted flower) - How does your character deal with stressful situations? Is their fear response fight, flight, freeze or fawn?

So a lot of Ves' character is that he has severe anxiety from the like, mid 2060's on because of everything he experienced with his family and by extension Arasaka. He comes off so nice (read: a fucking pushover) in terms of his reputation because he can't really muster the strength to be anything else while keeping himself together. So he can't cope well because he straight up has no foundation to do so in the first place because his life is one stress after another and he's in constant flight mode. But with respect to the events of the game, it's flight but to the nth bad degree because he goes from the constant stress and overthinking and worrying to borderline numb about it all. All too accepting of whatever horrible fate or death awaits him as a result of his and his friends' failures at the hands of the Relic. He has to be dragged out of it more often than not by a third party--Johnny, his partner Mistletoe, and later on Kerry--just so he can form a response.

Oh but specifically, midway into Phantom Liberty or so, anything corp related (Arasaka especially) his response immediately becomes fight because he's had enough of them ruining his life much less other peoples'.

Post-Mikoshi he is dealing with stress by just removing himself from the situations, honestly. He has a beautiful rich husband and he's gonna take advantage of being able to just leave when shit gets bad and enjoy his company!

🧣(scarf) - What comforts your oc? Is it an item? An action? A person? Whatever it is, how any why does it comfort them?

There's two things.

Firstly is physical contact. It takes him a long time to warm up to being touched at all in any capacity but he is, by nature, a very clingy person so he jumps at the opportunity to be close to someone, even if it's just sitting with your shoulders touching while you watch a movie. But even more than that, he loves being held? Unfortunately not many people can pick him up in the state his body is currently in (being 79% metal and cyberware means you're EXTREMELY heavy and Kerry can only do so much without some muscle boosters), but he loves to lay on top of someone, even if it's just partially so he doesn't crush them. He runs a little too hot so he's just 65 inches of warm weighted blanket.

The second is actually playing music! Growing up the only thing he enjoyed were the music lessons he had with a neighbor every night, and she taught him how to play the piano and the cello. His friendship turned romance with Kerry reminded him that he used to like things once upon a time, and Kerry bought him a bass for his apartment so he could play when he was alone. He doesn't actually write any music until years down the line, but playing old songs he likes and poorly singing along helps him get into a much better headspace and actually gets him to relax enough to be meaningful. He also plays with Johnny and Kerry, sometimes, letting himself get lost in it with some company in the process.

🍄 (mushroom) - Does your character like being in nature or do they prefer the indoors? Do they have any outdoor hobbies like camping or fishing? If they prefer the indoors, why?

Outside of a couple years of living with nomads I don't think he really ever got the chance to do stuff like that. He doesn't even know how to swim when Judy takes him diving, honestly! But i think he really enjoys being outside when he can, really liking the ocean when he can ever get to a beach. He happily takes up Kerry on the offer of visiting his beach house in Florida, just sitting in the wet sand by the shore and letting the waves crash over him.

He lives chilling inside with his partners and watching a movie but he needs the change of scenery here and there, lest he go stir crazy, especially when he's not necessarily in the best of headspaces. I think one day he really would like to go on a boat and sail for a bit where it doesn't end up in an explosion, but just once. They can happily cause property damage anytime.

[mishffy]

so i recently came into ownership of an early 2000s version of la luice's iconic 2 way rabbit rucksack, and i happen to also have a brand new one i recently bought and haven't taken out yet, so im in a position where i have both bags new with tags and around 20 years apart in age! i was inspired by josine maaike's blog post where she did a comparison of her two rabbit bags, and since my models are slightly different from hers i wanted to do the same so that there are more resources out there on these adorable guys

lets start off with the tags

the older one came with only one attached tag, while the 2024 version came with 3. the older tag is a light yellow whilst the new one is pink, but the art is the same

here are the backs. as you can see, they both have some info like item number and some contact info, but the new one is more detailed and you can see how their email and website url have changed. this is how i was able to date the older one as being from the early 2000's, since the website on the tag was out of use by la luice by late 2005. the older one also has a warning that its a hand dyed product and you need to take care when washing. which leads us onto the tags inside the bag!

the old one has no brand tag, but had a small wash tag, whereas the new one has a brand tag but no wash tag! we know la luice bags were often credited as being from the brands that stocked them (meta, putumayo, spica), and them having no actual tag sewed in from la luice would explain why this might have happened so often.

now lets look at physical differences...

you can see a colour difference from the old one (left) and new one (right). im not sure whether this is from the dyeing process being different or just age

their faces are also a notable difference. the newer one has a very shapely face (he is a chiselled chad) whereas the old one has a round baby face and a more bulbous nose thats sits on top of his snout.

the ears on the new one have some wire in them to give them the straight appearance, whilst the ears on the old one flop straight down.

and look at the collars! the old one has a droopy ribbon tie while the new one has a layered lace bow tie

the lace they used in the ruffles at the bottom was also different. the old one has little flower wreath patterns while the new one has a rose pattern, but the most notable difference is the layer of lace added to the bottom of the new one (right)

lastly, and a very minute detail, but the hardware on the old one was more of a screw shape whereas on the new one its a beaded design.

overall, in my opinion these two bags are both perfect and for being so far apart in age they look suprisingly identical. the quality and attention to detail is equally amazing in both so you really can't go wrong with la luice. thanks if you read this far!! id be interested to hear about any similarities and differences from your la luice bags.

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

It’s really funny when you think of season 4 basically being a tragicomedy where two fruity disasters are engaged in a dance of who can miscommunicate the most. They both are actually on the same page with a desire to go crazy together and be a team but they assume the other boy is reading an entirely different book. Mike goes to Cali frazzled with a million chaotic thoughts, his confusion and flustered heart barely concealed by his Big Bird core outfit.

I have a girlfriend and I’m supposed to love her. Of course I love her, she’s my girlfriend! She’s El! She has superpowers! She’s changed my life! Yes, stick to the script! I can’t wait to meet her friends she’s been telling me about and also to meet Will 😍. Wait, why did I just get flustered? It’s just Will. My friend. Will Byers. WHO HAS APPARENTLY BEEN MAKING A PAINTING FOR A MYSTERIOUS GIRL?!? I wonder what that’s about. Actually I don’t wanna know. It’s fine. Oh my God, he got hot. Why did he get hot? Wait, don’t think that. That’s weird. He’s a boy. He’s Will. Act calm. Be normal. Uhhh. hi 😍 😍😍 Wait, why isn’t he showing me that? Does he hate me? Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?

Meanwhile Will, with no idea about Mike’s internal monologue, is extremely eager and happy to see his best friend again and is utterly confused why he is being so weird and not hugging him and why his outfit is so questionable. I guess he doesn’t care about anything I have to say anymore. I’m so stupid. Why did I make this painting and bring it to this airport like a loser? He doesn’t want to see it. Which is literally the opposite of the truth. And then things start happening too fast to process anything, and everyone’s talking fast, and El is flagrantly lying to Mike and it’s quite disturbing. Why would she do that? Friends don’t lie. This can’t end well.

And then at the roller rink Will is in tragic yearning mode while also keenly aware that a fire is brewing and wanting to put out the fire before it hurts both his sister and his best friend, both of whom he loves dearly. But Mike is oblivious to all of this while in his feelings about Will, paying absurdly close attention to Will “moping and rolling his eyes,” interpreting things in the wrong way. And then he shoots up like a gopher on adderall when Will tells him they need to talk about El because something is terribly wrong- which would be crystal clear if Mike wasn’t hyperfocused on Will’s every mood swing- and he refuses to believe it until it becomes undeniable, choosing instead to address what is clearly on his mind significantly more than his actual girlfriend on a theoretical date. And they have a high school musical coded fight in the middle of the building, entirely misunderstanding where the other boy is coming from, and it just leaves them more flustered, frustrated, and confused. But because they are incapable of personal space, it doesn’t make them drift apart physically. They stand side by side as El absolutely decks Angela to Will’s shellshocked sinking feeling of “This is my fault. I should have prevented this from happening,” and Mike’s feeling of horror and shock and, “Where did any of this come from? I just got here.”

And then later on El and Mike have their fight about him not being able to say I love you, which is confusing and full of gaslighting and contradictions and is super messy no matter how the cake is sliced, but Will is not there for any of this, so he has no reason to believe El and Mike are on the rocks. Because why would they be? He heard Mike say I love you to a room full of their friends a year ago. And Mike is clearly dealing with so many internal thoughts and conflicted feelings that he won’t share with the class- with the class being both Will and the audience- so post el’s arrest and post her “superhero” journey we have to watch Byler have these incredibly coded conversations that get increasingly more chaotic. Mike’s basically like, “Yeah bestie I’m not sure about this whole macaroni and cheese thing and I don’t know if me and El are really right for each other, you know? It was prolly like dumb luck or something, but you’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, Will, and I think we should work together as a team, as best friends, as lovers- wait, who said that? Anyway, what do you think, my totally platonic bestie?”

All this as [tender, emotional music] plays. And Will, even though it destroys him inside, is extraordinarily selfless, and is basically like, “I’m sure you and El will work things out and talk through whatever’s happening. You love each other. You are perfect for each other. And I will always be here to reassure you.” And Mike’s like, “That’s not how I envisioned this convo going. Are you sure?” And while holding back tears, Will’s like, “Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I be sure? Look at this painting I made you.” And Mike’s like “Wow 😍😍😍 did you make that for me?” And Will’s like, “Sure did! Actually El basically did. She commissioned it.” And Mike is like, “Oh. Okay. It’s still really beautiful tho. Which of course it is. Because you made it. But I… I’m confused. But I don’t fully understand why I’m confused. I’m glad El needs me! I think?”

Meanwhile, Byler literally wants the same things, they both deeply desire and love each other, but they don’t know how the other feels. And if they both paused for one second, were fully honest with each other, and stopped speaking in code, things would fall into place. And they could walk hand in hand, crazy together, into the apocalypse.

[betweenthescarletmoon]

Something i adore about scenes from a marriage (2021), whether or not the theme was present in the original, is the presence and effects of childhood emotional neglect in the main characters.

From the first episode, you can feel it. There's so much love and care yet so much disconnect and misunderstanding between Jonathan and Mira. They suppress themselves, they discredit their needs to prioritize the other's, they promise they're fine when their eyes scream otherwise.

Episode two shows how Mira felt dead and numb with Jonathan, how she felt like she couldn't breathe with him. And the fact that they never, ever, ever talked about how the abortion destroyed them... Jonathan watches porn and eats alone at night, only for his face to light up like a lighthouse when Mira returned (because he felt so lonely, but he never told her that). How Mira felt so much bitterness and resentment for him, stuck in loneliness herself, but lost her self-assertion and security (or never had it) and chose to never tell him the truth. The way she was finally facing so many emotions (guilt, regret, rage, sorrow, fear) she probably never allowed herself to feel before (perhaps since childhood), so it was too overwhelming and painful for her to do so. The way he abraded his face before tears would spill, and shut down and forgave and comforted instead of feeling, until the repressed boiling stress and agony caused an asthma attack.

Episode three was all Mira trying to feel some familiarity and security now that she was finding none anywhere, using a Jonathan who holds no boundaries, who apologizes for trying to assert his need to heal, his right to consent or deny sex. Mira, who cannot handle true emotional intimacy, because it scares her, so when Jonathan is finally learning to open up emotionally for the first time in his life, exactly about the emotional neglect that traumatized him, she tries to make it physical and sensual to escape that terrifying new level of trust. The need in Mira to diminish the relationship they had, the need in Jonathan to begin detaching himself from all future relationships just like Mira does. This is the beginning of the rot that takes place in both of them, because if you don't tend to what's inside how can it stay alive? It is our job to take care, heal, and maintain what our parents failed to care, raise, and love unconditionally. Jonathan is trying with therapy, while Mira is not. Later we see the roles switch.

In episode four we witness them at their worst. Wildly violent and impulsive in sexual, physical, and verbal dimensions, no matter the repercussions and the wellbeing of the other. And yet, Jonathan is more self-aware than ever. He asserts himself, he stands up for himself, he fights her insults, he tries to communicate, and finally, he extricates himself from the situation (until a desperate, emotionally breaking down, hopeless Mira stops him). Mira, without space or will to face what is within, is instinctively running to Jonathan without thought or care towards him or even herself. It is deeply toxic because she can't be alone with her hurt, can't bring herself to process all this grief. This is what primarily tears them apart the way they did that night.

And in the finale, we see Mira finally able to do just what she couldn't last episode. And devastatingly, we see Jonathan become the empty shell we saw in Mira in episode three. When you choose to perceive the world as untrustworthy, as unable to see you for who you are, as unconditionally vicious and neglectful and cruel, no amount of therapy or self-awarenes will change that will to see the world like this. His choice in detaching and numbing himself, relying on cognitive dissonance about freedom and morality, is his choice to emotionally neglect his new wife and child (as well as Ava, as well as himself). And the beauty, the absolute beauty of episode five, despite how messed up and horrid it is for them to be having this affair, is that Mira was emotionally present for him. She listened to him for the first time in four episodes. She expressed her sorrow for him, her worry. She held him with care and gentleness, and not with an ulterior need. She empathized in his weakest moments, embraced him when that neglected inner child was unleashed in the attic, in the darkness, after that nightmare. And Jonathan knows. He is well aware she is loving him the way he wasn't as a child, and he states exactly how his mother failed to do what Mira is doing now.

In short, educate yourself about CEN. Learn about how your most well-meaning parents could've emotionally failed you. And see for yourself how, untreated and unprocessed, or simply not accepted, that invisible and underestimated trauma can rot people up on the inside. This series portrays wonderfully, painfully, the true poison that is emotional neglect, and the necessity to have emotional maturity and love to heal.

[rcksmith]

Nobody else — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Hello! May I request number nine from the fluff prompts and number seven from the smut prompts for Five? Maybe where the reader is a super skilled fighter, and the other Hargreeves siblings can’t get over how amazing she is, but that causes Five to become a little jealous?”

“Okayy if you're not tired of Five and smuts yet, can I request 18,70,74 and 84 from smut list with fem reader?”

Fluff prompts:

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

Smut prompts:

7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

18. “Are you sure? Once we start, i might not be able to stop.”

70. “Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that?”

74. “I think I like you better with a gag in your mouth.”

84. “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Thank you for requests💖 I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: explicit smut, dirty talk, bad words, fluff, fight, mention of death, jealousy.

— — — — —

People need each other to find support, comfort and understanding. Thomas Merton said: “Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone, but with the other. ”

And as cliché as it was, it was the truth. And that is exactly what happened to you.

It was difficult to explain how many years you had already been killing for the commission. Ever since, maybe? You did not remember a time when that work was not part of your life, your routine, your system. But you could feel, vaguely like a hazy dream, that one day the act of breathing was ... light.

Killing without conscience brought many regrets, and the weight of guilt filled your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

But you were good at that. God, you were very good. Maybe it was the endless years of training, your quick thinking, or the simple fact that you had a lot more physical stamina than the other agents. But, whatever it was, it helped you move up the board quickly.

Murdering with a gun was easy, quick, clean, and there were already many agents who did that job. For someone like you, so empowered, the commission has relocated you to more… arduous and dangerous missions.

Your job was to kill those whose gunshots could not show up at the necropsy. Someone who needed to die without the body revealing what had happened very well.

Shoot JFK? It wasn't with you.

End Hitler? It wasn't your job.

To kill Socrates with your bare hands and make everyone believe it was poison? This is where you came in.

The difference between the jobs was that you had to do the whole process. And a melee interaction instead of a weapon always brought people who wanted to fight for their lives. And that is why the commission chose you to do that, without any partner.

They elected you because you fought like a super soldier, focused on your goal like a robot, and never came back without success. It didn't matter how many fights you had to fight with your target, how many punches you had to throw and also take, or how many injuries you returned. You always won.

Over time, you learned things in practice, tricks that made it easy, scams that would save you effort. You learned to study each person in seconds, find their weaknesses, and use his own strength against them.

That's when you met Five Hargreeves. And Thomas Merton's quote made sense.

You two were so much similar. Both the best in their fields, wrecked in a sea of ​​personal traumas, buried by a job that got the best of you two. You two felt misunderstood, alone in the vastness of that world. And when you two met... well, were no longer alone.

You two got involved, in all possible ways and ways. Loved each other, adored each other, and completed each other. Life went out of automatic mode, and for the first time in a long time, you two managed to breathe lightly. The food now tasted good, the heat of the sun on the skin was now better, and the world... the world was ruled by the red color of love.

So it became the most obvious and coherent decision to you two get married. Five could no longer imagine a life in which you did not exist, and you did not know how the world could go without him.

“I can't believe we did that!” You laughed, astonished, as you entered the apartment that you and Five shared.

You two had just married, something just for you two and the ceremonialist. You two chose something very intimate, reserved. And now the ring on him left hand looked like the most beautiful thing in the world for you.

Five laughed softly, hands moving up your arms, bringing you closer.

“We did. Wife.”

After that, your two contract with the commission changed. Five would only continue to do that if no one dared to touch a hair of yours, and you swore to The Handler that if someone did something to Five, you would destroy that place brick by brick.

Five saw in you a strong and atrocious ocean, which could swallow whole cities only with the force of its fury. And he liked that. He liked having someone as competent and firm as he was. Five liked to know that if there was a disaster, he would not be the only one who would go after a solution.

You were the type who knew that if you wanted things to happen, you had to do it with your bare hands. And Five loved it, because he felt understood. He carried so many responsibilities on his back that it was relieving to find someone who also felt the same things.

Five knew that, when him found way home, you were going with him. And you went. You two exchanged vows that would be together in joy and sadness, in any situation. And if the situation now said to go to 2019, well, you would.

“It makes me so sick, God!” Five heard you say when you two fell out of that blue portal he created.

He would have laughed if his muscles didn't hurt so much. For someone so trained you got sick of his powers very quickly.

"Five?!” And then the voice of one of the brothers was heard.

And that's how you two ended up there. A week later, in the Hargreeves' living room, with Diego swearing that you wouldn't be able to beat him in a fight.

Five laughed against the margarita's straw, sitting comfortably at the bar, giving up on telling his stupid brother that you had already killed much more dangerous people with your bare hands.

“I do not want to hurt you.” You smiled understandingly, and Klaus laughed.

“I bet 50 bucks that she beats your ass, Diego.” It was only logical that he was going to encourage his brother to fall.

“There is no way you can hurt me.” Diego guaranteed, getting up and starting to push the sofa away, making room for a fight.

“Are you up for it or are you scared?” He played with you, and Five laughter it back there, having a lot of fun.

“This is ridiculous, Diego.” Allison stressed, but it was obvious that she wanted to watch too.

You smirked, getting up from the bar chair next to Five. You didn't want to defeat your husband's brother in that fight, you understood that the circumstances between the two of you were not fair.

You were created to kill, injure and decimate. Body wrestling was your job and it wouldn't be fair to Diego. You knew, from Five, that the Hargreeves were created to be heroes. Saviors of the motherland. Hurt and kill if necessary, but don't make it a goal.

But not with you. Killing was your goal, always. And your weapon was not super powers or pistols, but the body itself.

“Okay.” You laughed and went to the circle that Diego had made “But I don't want to hurt you. The first one to fall to the ground loses.” You were trying to be peaceful.

Diego agreed, giving him a friendly smile before saying:

“But I will use my knives to distract you.”

It was logical that he wouldn't make it cheap and easy, even if it was for himself, you knew that.

So you agreed, took off the suit you were wearing and rolled up the sleeves of your white dress shirt, while the Hargeeves sat in a safe area, away from that makeshift ring.

Diego delivered the first blow, and you just deflected the trunk, taking him by the same arm and twisting it against his back. At that moment, if it was something for real, you would put more strength to break the bone, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you just released Diego with a little push forward.

Diego turned to face you again, the naughty smile on the face of someone who knows his own potential. He was very good, you knew that, but the different upbringing made you a better opponent.

This time, the blow came from below. It was a trip that you jumped while pulling on the fist he used to land another blow in the same second, forcing him to come forward with force while you deflecting once more. Diego staggered forward, steadying himself on the floor once again.

It was all absurdly fast, as if you were a robot. A machine programs for that.

Diego hurled the knife in the wind while attacking with his other fist. You dodged again, but this time you struck back, slamming a blow down the side of your stomach, blocking his attack with your other arm and unleashing a kick in the chest, which made Diego stagger backward.

In a matter of seconds, the knife was at the end of its course. And while Diego was advancing again, the wind that the knife was making hit your hair. But the knife didn't finish course. You stopped the blade with your hand, holding to the object with your palm.

At that moment, you saw Diego's eyes falter. And a surprised gasp by the Hargreeves graces the ambience. Then it was your turn to attack. You threw the knife on the floor, driving the blade into the wooden floor as you went.

There were punches, deflected blows, creeps. The two of you were dancing to an agitated song, which was reaching its climax.

Diego had holding you in him arms, and you turned your body, locked him left arm in your hands while you used the momentum to propel your legs up, past his neck and turning, taking you both to the floor. He fell on his back while you used your own momentum to balance yourself, standing upright.

“YES! YOU OWM ME 50 DOLLARS!" Klaus's voice was heard.

You laughed, and you were about to walk away when Diego dug his left hand into your heel. He pulled you in a single stroke, and it made you fall, your back hitting the ground as he took the lead. Diego put his legs on your hips the first second you fell on the floor, and he used his own strength to keep you there.

You laughed out loud, and so did he.

“This is cheating!” You scolded him, punching him in the chest.

“Whatever, but you had to fall too!”

Diego was a good loser, you recognized that by the intonation of the voice. He was not possessed or reviled because you won, but he wanted it to be an eye for an eye, even if only as a joke.

But as soon as Diego got up off you, holding your hand for you got up too, your eyes went to Five. And you found the green irises burning in an atrocious fire. You frowned, not understanding, but you didn't have time to go over there and ask what happened. Klaus and Luther came to you and Diego.

Klaus charging his brother and Luther asking you how you did that final blow.

“It's for me to use when he pisses me off!” Luther looked directly at his brother in a silent threat “ But he will not get up alive!”

“Fuck you” Diego said before practically shoving 50 dollars in Klaus's face.

“Is easy.” You replied Luther “I'll show you."

But while the brothers were having fun, marveling at you, Five burned in a visseral cholera.

Wasn't it enough for Diego to have literally been on top of you, you had to want to teach that stupid gorilla too ?!

Oh fucking no!

When Diego went to Luther and started explaining with you, him your side, how the scam worked, Five was exploding. Now that stupid men butcher knife would be on your side?! Agreeing and explaining whit you as if it were your husband?!

Wasn't it enough just fucking being on top of you?!

Definitely fuck not!

“Take it easy, buddy.” Klaus appeared beside him “You are looking at them as if you want to kill someone.”

Five just snarled, not bothering to respond, his eyes never leaving you.

“Wait..." Klaus looked better at who Five was staring “Are you jealous of Y/n ?!” He was amazed.

“Shut up!” Five forced himself to swallow a handful of margarita.

“Oh my God!” And he wouldn’t stop “You like her! That must be why you live in a bad mood! You must be in the friend zone! ”

“Didn't I tell you to shut up already ?!” Five looked deathly at his brother “And I'm not in the friend zone with her.”

But Five realized that he gaved too much information to his brother, because now Klaus's face was opening in a shocked smile.

Goddam!

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Klaus was loving the situation.

But, out of the corner of his eye, Five can see Diego holding your arm, showing Luther the place to deliver any stupid blow.

You gotta be fucking kidding!

“No, that girl is my wife!” Five tapped the margarita glass on the counter, teleporting to you and pushing Diego's hand off your arm, replacing his own.

“The show over!” He growled as he left the room, pulling you with him, your feet stumbling a few times before picking up the pace.

“Five!” You said, but he didn't seem to hear.

The image of Diego's legs at your fucking waist, the body sitting on you, the hand on your arm, rewound Five's mind like a curse. He felt his anger inflate, jealousy whispering in the back of his neck like a little devil, making him see the situation bigger than it really was.

You called him again, but for Five, it was like you called his brother's name. And then he exploded in his own fury.

He couldn't wait to go up all those stupid stairs, all those corridors, Five just pulled you against him, disappearing in the blue flash and reappearing in the his room.

“You are crazy?” You pulled the wrist out of his grip.

“I should be asking you that!” He said “Did you see that scene ?!”

“What a scene?” You frowned.

Five focused his eyes on you, in angry energy.

“Diego on top of you, fuck!" He snarled “Luther drooling like a dog on you!”

“Five.” You thought all that was absurd “They are your brothers!”

“You have no idea how much i don’t give a fuck!”

The situation was ridiculous, and you ended up laughing in disbelief and bewilderment.

“We were fighting!” You defended yourself "Nobody was drooling on me!"

“I swear to god tha ...” Five walked over to you, his eyes flooded with rage, his body enveloped in that intense and explosive energy.

You lifted chin to get a better look, your chest stuck to him, Five's breath hitting the top of your nose. That week had been full of emotions and issues to deal with, 24 hours being insufficient to do everything, explain everything. And, well, you and Five didn't have much time alone...

All of this compiled with the fact that your husband possessed the beauty of an angry god,and that excited you so fuck absurdly.

Suddenly, the air in the room became caustic, seething with the expectation of something improper happening, injecting heat into your chest that descended to the middle of your legs.

You sighed softly, and Five immediately noticed the waters where your thoughts were sailing.

“Does it turn you on?” His voice was hoars “See me angry?”

The sigh you gave was your whistleblower, your chest started to rise and fall more breathlessly than usual, your core starting to pulse. You wouldn't be able to say anything even your life would depended it, you drowning in the malicious and hot climate of that room, compiled with the absurd beauty and intensity of the adult in front of you.

God, you needed him!

“Yes, you like.” Five had an arrogant, boastful tone, mocking how sensitive you were.

But his eyes took on a more conscious tone, and he whispered as he said: "Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop. ”

Five knew his own limits, his own anger, his own strength. If he touched you now, in most simple, he wouldn't be able to stop. You agreed, hands moving gently up his body, resting on him hips.

“I will not be gentle.” Five wanted to you know again.

He had already fucked you hard, drowned in insatiable desire, marking your skin with slaps, hickeys. Five had already mistreated your mouth, made you scream. But never fucked you in anger. He never took his anger out on you. And now, submerged in jealousy, he knew how much strength he would discharge on you.

“I don't want it to be.” But you gave Five the go-ahead on a needy sigh, your fingers running around his waist.

Five dropped his mouth to your ear, tracing a path across your skin with warm lips, now bringing hands up to your skin, feeling how hot, needy you were.

“You're wet and I haven't even touched you yet.” His words hung over you like a warm warning of what was going to happen, what to expect.

You moaned softly, your body shivering, screaming for you to get more, seeking some friction, some contact. Then, as if Five read you thoughts, his left hand clung fiercely to the back of your neck, curling him fingers in your hair.

He forced you to look at him, watching the rage and the extraordinary lust.

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

Five left you brutally, telling you to take off all your clothes, watching all your movements while he got rid of the shirt himself. He left him tie beside the bed, sitting on the mattress and pulling you onto him lap as soon as you finally got naked. He fit thigh in the middle of your legs, making you sit on his thigh.

You groaned, the friction in the place you most wanted, the core pulsing against the dark cloth of him pants. You rummaged your hips for more than you wanted, but Five dropped his hand on your ass, releasing a loud, stinging slap. The groan was unable to be controlled, and you buried your face in the curve of him neck, sobbing there.

“You will be grateful for every slap I give you, do you understand?” He snarled, fingers tightening on your flesh, marking your skin.

You agreed, and thanked him when Five slapped your ass harder. This time, he moved him thigh beneath you, brushing your pulsating core, leaving you in an extremely needy state.

“Fi-five!" A sob escaped, followed by another thanks when a slap hit your in ass again.

Five's hands roughly grabbed your waist, holding you firmly in place as he started to rummage in him thigh, making you moan louder every second. That was torture. You pulsed and wet him thigh, your body rigid from wanting more of that friction, the sobs escaping your lips, the muscles contracted.

“Such a needy slut." He snarled in your ear “So desperate for my thigh.”

You groaned at him words, your fingers around him shoulders, squeezing there while Five took you so badly in him thigh. He dropped his mouth to your hot neck, pouring a hickey there before sighing hoarsely:

“The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

It sent electric currents to your swollen core, and moans got even bigger when Five increased the speed of his movements, rubbing your clitoris in those mind-boggling movements. His strong grip, compiled wheezing on his neck, his hoarse voice and the movements of his thigh took you to the limit. And you were pushed into that abyss of the climax.

“So fucking quickly.” Five delighted, in a groan, and stuck his hands on your back, holding you there, turning you in one movement to the bed.

Your back hit the mattress, Five’s warm hands roamed your legs, squeezing thighs and parting them, exposing your wet, red core at the climax. Five groaned loudly, as if seeing you hurt physically, and he took his hands off you to grab the tie next to you.

“Be good and open your mouth for me.” You obeyed, and he wiped the cloth over there, fastening his tie.

You sighed brokenly, your heart beating fast, breasts stiff and sore, your ass burning with slaps, core sensitive to climax.

“I think I like you better with a gag in your mouth." Five reflected, him hands roaming your trembling body, squeezing every bit of skin, reveling in how your skin felt at him touch.

Five reveled in the breath you took, enjoying how you looked like a fucking goddess like that. So vulnerable, so needy, so needy.

He was controlling himself until now, pushing you to the limit, making you sensitive, teasing you, making you sensitive to what was coming. Him smile was purely lustful, and Five leaned toward you, roughly sucking the nipple from your breast, nibbling at the needy skin. Then he brought hands up to his pants, opening his belt and zipper, pulling the pieces down far enough for his dick to pop out.

The moan you gave when you felt the hot, luscious member on your thigh was enough to inflate him ego even more. Five turned your body down, pulling your waist up, leaning into your ear to whisper:

“I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll never forget that day.” Then he entered you, rough, strong, badly.

He forced your walls to get used to him size and sank to the bottom of the well, clutching his hands to your hips and pulling you against him dick. You screamed against the tie, pressing your fingers to the pillows, sobbing when Five set a fierce, wild and badly pace, mistreating every inch of you.

One of him hands went to your neck, closing his fingers there and pouring out all the fury and jealousy he felt in the thrusts, going in as deep as he could and pushing your limit. The pornographic sounds of the two of you moaning, the sound of his hip hitting your ass, invaded the room, mixing with the smell of sex, lust and hunger.

You shouted him name when Five left and brutally entered you, making you choke on your own sobs.

“What's it? Are you unaccustomed to my dick?” He tasted it, leaving your neck to slap your ass aggressively “Is it too much for you?”

You sobbed, stopped by the tie, and Five hit you again.

“Do you think someone can fuck you like me?!”

Now him voice was angry and his movements too. Five fucked you like he had spent his whole life in fury at you, waiting patiently for the day when he would discount everything on you. Him hand went to your mouth, pulling tie from there and releasing your toxic moans.

“Answer me, fuck!” One more slap, leaving your ass on fire.

“N-no!” You cried “Nobody ... no-nobody fucks me like you!”

You talks with a more thrust, and Five pushed your chest to the bed, keeping his hand on your back, him moans mixing with your.

Then he reached the peak of anger.

Five came out of you, turned you up and bent your legs, placing your knees on your shoulders. He entered in a brutal way inside you, the new position making him occupy all the minimum vacant spaces. You screamed, tears welling up in your eyes, your hands tightening on his arms, your heart already racing.

It was too much. Your body begged for more, for the climax, for the lust, for anything fierce that Five could give you. He dropped his mouth on yours, biting your bottom lip instead of kissing you, making you swallow his lines when he said:

“Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that? ”

You desperately denied it. Five could very well come out of you and not let you come, and just that thought made your body tremble and tears flow.

“Plea-Please!” You sobbed “I beg you!”

That did things with Five. He stuck his body to your, him arm going around your waist and fucking you as if that could chase away all his anger. This time he kissed you, sticking his lips to yours as he felt you pulse around him and break up in a hushed scream, trembling at the climax.

Five did not falter, his black hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, his heart pounding. He cum strongly inside your core, filling you with hot cum. You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as he came inside of you, slowly calming down.

The two of you sighed, the room flooding with the smell of sex and desire, your hearts thudding at the same pace. You whimpered in his mouth, and when Five want to leave inside you, you denied it, tightening your legs around him waist.

“N-No.” You moaned softly, "Stay inside, please."

Five drew air through his teeth, him hands gripping the sides of your body, stirring inside you, beginning to feel the lust rising.

He kissed you again, whispering:

“You want to have a child of mine, don't you?" It was an arrogant, provocative voice, and you sighed. “You are such a fucking sensitive little thing.”

Then Five started moving again, and you stayed in that room for much longer.

[tommyspeakycap]

Please write one about making fun of Jack for being jealous over the fact that your baby is getting more cuddles from you. Thank youuuuuuu

Mama’s Boys

“He’s just gorgeous,” Karen coos softly, her finger gently brushing over the sweet baby boys little face as he lays snugs swaddled in your arms. Jack re-enters the living room of his beautifully decorated home with his dad and brother in tow. Kiera stifles a laugh as she leans closer to your side and mutters; “How many Grealish men does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” To which your lips stretch wide across your face with her laughter-lit eyes. Karen leans in too, “Hopefully not as many as it takes to fit a car seat.”

Laughter bounces through you, Jack’s mother and his two younger sisters, only fuelled by the the confused looks from each of the Grealish men. The little boy in your arms barely even stirs.

“We’re ready to go whenever you are.” Kevin announces, clapping his hands together in that very true dad fashion that indicates he’s now wanting to get going. If the way he had been trying to hint at being hungry hadn’t already suggested that. Everyone starts to move around fairly soon after that, with Jack’s mother helping you out to the car. Your two week post baby body hadn’t quite healed up yet and she had been the most amazing help you could ever have imagined. Jack was fantastic, but his mother was experienced in looking after kids and she could come over while Jack was working. He had his last game before his Christmas break just three days ago.

You sat in the back of the car, eagle eyes still too soon after birth to want to be away from your brand new baby boy just yet.

“I can’t believe we got a Christmas baby.” You beam as he helps you out the car, one around around your waist while his other hand held tight around the baby carrier as you walk together through his parents front door. It always made Jack nervous to be carrying it in case he dropped his newborn son despite how man times you reassured him he wouldn’t. “I still can’t believe we have a baby.” He admits, his voice the very sound of disbelief. His heart had been so overwhelmed with joy but his work didn’t slow down to allow him to process it, so he was still pretty much in shock that there was another tiny little human who now relied on you both for everything. “And such a perfect baby,” Jack continues as he sets the carrier with your sleeping son down carefully on the floor, “Just like his mama.” He leans in, pressing his lips softly down onto yours, hands reaching around to pull you into his chest-

“Waaaaa!”

You break apart quickly. Jack sighs in discontent with his eyes falling closed as you crouch to scoop your baby boy up into your arms and walk off into the packed Grealish family living room. Jack groans once your out of earshot. He felt like he hasn’t hugged or kissed you in forever when he had been used to getting your affection and giving you his multiple times throughout the day.

Baby boy Grealish was being fed on demand via what Jack had referred to as the “nippular method” that had you physically wetting your pants a little bit. What he meant of course was breast feeding, but the word had failed to find him at that moment. So it would be safe to say there was very little time for he and you to even be holding much of a conversation between last minute Christmas shopping, wrapping and meeting family even though Jack had assured you a million times that his family wouldn’t mind if you just took a break to relax after literally pushing a child out of you. He just wanted a bloody kiss.

He didn’t blame his baby at all, he loved that little boy more than anything he’d ever known. That’s exactly what Jack had been like. More than the world, more than his life itself. and he wasn’t surprised the bald little thing was a mama’s boy. But that did not mean he wasn’t going to pout about the little man getting more of you than he could. Last Christmas had been a day of hot chocolate sitting by the fire, constantly in his arms. This one he’d barely even touched you. That was bad enough for any man, but for Jack who is so physically affectionate and very tactile, it’s borderline painful.

“Are you alright, love?” Karen asks. Jack turns his head to her slowly, seemingly taken carefully from his trance. He was looking straight at the mantle where a picture of you, Jack and your baby boy was sitting pride of place. It was brand new and he loved it. You had the same one in your living room at home. Jack nods, but his sigh gives him away and leads his mother to sit down next to him. “Just want a bloody hug.” He admits, shrugging his shoulders and trying to hide his face for the embarrassment that creeps up his cheeks. Her mother responds to that with a small coo and attempts to wrap her arms around her son immediately, much fo his protest,

“Oi not from you eh? From (y/n)!” He protests, his mothers snot if laughter immediately meeting his ears. “S’ not funny, mum. Babies stole my fiancé.”

That only serves to make her laugh harder, also eliciting a laugh from his brother who immediately tells his eldest sister who sprints off through the house, taunting in a sing at the top of her lungs. Siblings are never too old to taunt each other like that.

“Jack’s jealous of the baby! Jack’s jealous of the baby!”

“Oi. I’m not!” He calls after her in protest, jumping to his feet just as you appear in the doorway with a cheeky glint in your eyes and a smug grin. He knows he can’t lie to you anyway, so he backs down and you giggle. The little boy wide awake now in your arms coos too, immediately attracting his daddies attention. Jack looks at you, standing there in an England Grealish 7 shirt cradling a baby boy who wears the same outfit. His heart is suddenly so, so warm. He hadn’t really been able to see his son like this, so awake and so alert for having been working so hard before the winter break finally allowed him full home time. He was going to be missing every match of January too to stay home with you guys and he couldn’t be more excited.

“You know,” you hum softly, “It would be nice to have a family cuddle, you know?”

Jack’s cheeks tint an ever so slight red, but he barely waits a moment before he wraps his arms around you and the baby, careful not to squish him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead gently.

“If it makes you feel any better son,” his dad cuts in with a clap on his back, “Our Christmas gift to you is a spa weekend and a coupon for granny-day-care.” And it very much does make Jack feel a bit better. With time, he’s surer than anything that you’ll work the intimacy and time for each other out. It’s a work in progress, a learn on the job kind of experience and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And really, neither would you for later that evening when you’re back at your beautiful little home and Jack is the one to clamber out of bed in the middle of the night to change and put his baby boy back down to bed, you find yourself listening to him speak to that sweet little boy through the baby monitor he left on. He’s talking about how sweet he is, how much his mummy and daddy love him and how stinky he is right now but daddy wouldn’t change him for the world. And then he trails off his silly baby voice that already makes you want another.

“You’re a mama’s boy though, aren’t you stinky man?” He coos, careful with his hands fastening those tiny little buttons on the front of a blue baby grow. He picks up the two week old and holds him carefully as he always does. “But daddy can’t blame you, bubba. Daddy loves your mama so, so much. It’s something we’ll always have in common eh? We’re both your mama’s boys.”

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE NINE || SMALL FLY AND REVERSE RETRIBUTION

↳ featuring : gojo satoru + ieiri shoko (mentions of fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + nanami kento) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of corpse + mention of blood + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 09 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.4k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : boredom

↳ next episode : idle transfiguration 

↳ barista’s notes : hi there everyone! right now i know i haven’t been the most active i have been but i really thankful on how patient you all are ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ once again, thank you all for the birthday messages you have given me and the love that you all have for Y/N, i’m really glad that you love her character ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ i hope you enjoy today’s episode even though it isn’t that interesting at all to be honest...

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“At this point, I’m not going to get any sleep if I keep doing this,” you mumbled quietly to yourself, as you leisurely walked down the stone steps that lead to the familiar track field you had been going to for the past few weeks for training due to the up and coming Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event.

Currently, there was nothing more than a few mild wind breezes as well as the brightness from the moon keeping you company as you decided to come out of your room for the night - how many times have you done this? You wouldn’t even know the answer yourself, you just let yourself go outside to get some fresh air.

Finally reaching to the bottom of the steps, you casually made your way to the tree you always sat under during training with your classmates and second-year upper-classmen before taking off your black longline coat to place it on the ground like a cover as you processed to sit before laying right on top of it leading your view to change from the field to the sky that was slightly shielding by the branch and leaves from the trees.

“What...am I even doing here?” you questioned yourself while raising your arm slightly above your face as you stared at your hand absently like the answer you were looking for was at the back of your hand.

From what you have learnt at being at Jujutsu Tech for some time, you learnt that everyone had a purpose of being at the institution that you were currently residing in now. 

Everyone you have met and knew here at this moment in time had a purpose or a goal of being a jujutsu sorcerer.

What about you?

Fushiguro thought the world was unfair and the reasoning behind his reasoning of becoming a sorcerer was to be a tool within a system that ensured kind people were given more chances in living. However, unlike you, you weren’t really fond of his reasoning at all. 

What happens if those ‘good’ people you saved become the criminal you refused to save? What happens if those ‘good’ people you deemed ‘good’ become the most immoral and sinful person you ever encountered? What happens if those ‘good’ people you save that smiled at your actions for them lead that smile to fade?

Like you mentioned, you weren’t fond of his reasoning at all. There were too many risks.

Kugisaki's reasoning was humorous as she wanted to move out of the countryside without any worries of financial issues but you knew somewhere in your heart that there was another reason she wasn’t telling you when you asked her during your usual weekend shopping trip with her. On the other hand, you admired her in some way, she was the personification of not needing to choose between strength and beauty.

However, that wasn’t the answer you weren’t looking for at all.

Zenin (Maki) wanted to escape the ties of the Zenin clan due to her situation of not being able to possess any kind of cursed energy compared to the averaged sorcerer, yet with the heavenly restriction that was traded with the lack of cursed energy, she processed superhuman physical prowess that was more powerful than most sorcerers you come to know. 

Her reasoning? To become the head of the Zenin clan to irritate the other members.

When she mentioned her ambition to you, you were quite sceptical in the beginning but that slowly diminished once you saw the cheeky grin on her face, you soon came to realise that she wasn’t like any of them from whom you could recall due to your mother’s knowledge of them when she was still alive. Zenin was extremely strong-headed and straightforward which led to her motivation causing your respect for her to slowly rise up as each day went by.

On the other hand, you had escaped the ties of the clans, you had that advantage ahead of her since the day you came into this world, yet that changed the second you came into school that night. That wasn’t the answer you were trying to discover.

Then there was Gojo Satoru. A man that is known to be the strongest in this generation as he processed both the Limitless technique as well as the Six Eyes after 400 years assumingly and was the lone standing member of the Gojo clan unless your adoption made a change to that to which you knew it wasn’t likely at all.

To be honest, Gojo never told you his reasoning on becoming a sorcerer and it must be said that he didn’t really have a choice, to begin with. He was immediately placed into this world as the fate of the jujutsu world was resting on his shoulders while your clan was the maintenance of that order and if anything happened to the man himself, you were the next sorcerer to restore the stability of the world.

‘Ugh, what a drag…’

Although, without his words, you could predict what he wanted. Gojo seemed like he wanted a revolution. A change and actively collecting sorcerers that had the same mindset as him was one way of beginning it. You couldn’t deny that Gojo was a smart man but one with a hint of narcissist meaning to it. 

Slowly, you come to realise that you were a tool within his plan.

Something you slowly wanted to take advantage of for the time being.

However, as much as his plan was one you were tensely going to follow, that still wasn’t the answer you desired at all.

“Because I’m not supposed to exist Fushiguro, you’re a Zenin by blood, you should know that my clan shouldn’t exist after the golden age, we disappeared,” 

“That’s right...I wasn’t supposed to exist…”

Slowly you finally placed your arm back down to your side before closing your eyes allowing the darkness to consume your sight but you didn’t allow it to consume the whole of you since you weren’t willing to fall asleep outside in the world where you felt most vulnerable.

It was quiet.

From what you could sense around you at this current moment in time, there was no one around you right now, no sound of footsteps that were out of place and no lingering sense of cursed energy around you.

You felt free.

Completely free.

Even if it was for a couple of seconds.

“You know, instead of being a drag, maybe inform that you are here,” you stated, as you opened your eyes slowly to discover a well-known face staring down at you as their body towered over yours. 

“You can sense me that quick?” Gojo asked, with a cheeky smile painted on his face as he tilted his glasses down to reveal his crystal indicolite eyes that somehow looked as if they were brighter than the moon that was above the both of you right now.

“You have an immense amount of cursed energy, it’s quite easy to sense you to be honest...too easy,” you mentioned, before turning on to your side as if to avoid eye contact with him due to the feeling of him studying you like you were s subject - it was creepy.

“If you are going to study me about my ability, just go to the library in the school to read about my clan, I’m sure that is enough,” you informed your teacher, causing him to giggle at your comment before inviting himself to sit next to you.

“Nah, I got the real thing of the lingering L/N clan here and I don’t like reading~” Gojo amusingly stated, before placing a hand on the top of your head before gently ruffling your hair. “Besides, you and I both know that something is going on right now,” Gojo seriously mentioned, causing you to become slightly tense as you began to recall the unexpected attack against him that he was hinting to you.

“Do you know any curse users that are willing to work with the two curses that you encountered?” you asked Gojo in the same serious tone he gave you only for silence to fill the atmosphere leading you to turn your head slightly to see what was wrong with your adoptive father, only to notice him staring off into the distance with a nonchalant look on his face only for it to change instant with the usual playful smile he always showcased to you.

“By the way, I told Shoko to expect you tomorrow to practice your reverse cursed energy technique,” the playful teacher stated before removing his hand from your head as he stood up on his feet. “It might be difficult for you to understand since she’s not the best at explaining, but I know you’ll get it! Get back inside and get back to sleep~” he said with a teasing tone, before making his way back into the Jujutsu Tech building, leaving you alone again with your own thoughts as you stared at the direction that he had headed off to.

“What a drag…”

                                               ꕥ

“Shoko-san?” you called out, once the metal door slid open only to discover her standing between two metal tables with what seemed to be curse corpses resting there with blood splattered messily on their resting surface.

“Oh Y/N! Satoru said you were going to come by,” Ieiri mentioned with a small smile, as she turned to look at you while tying her hair back leading you to notice the very visible purple under eye bags she had.

Ieiri Shoko was the doctor within the Jujutsu Tech institution and was one of the only people that was able to use reverse cursed technique like you but more at an advanced level leading you to mentally thank Gojo for allowing you to learn from her since you had been struggling to use it to the level that she was. Even your mother was struggling to help improve your technique since the only time you were able to use it to your full potential was when you were in critical danger.

“What’s going on?” you curiously asked as you observed the gruesome sight in front of you while trying to ignore the horrible smell that was coming from the corpses as you gently placed your hand over your nose to block the scent.

“There was been an incident in Kinema Cinema and I have been asked to check out these since one of the sorcerers that were assigned to the mission stated there was something odd about them,” Ieiri explained before handing you a black elastic band leading to a confused look to invade your face.

“And I want you to help since Saturo said you have a really good sense of seeing residue of cursed energy, as well as sense, cursed energy itself,” Ieiri informed you leading you to take the hairband from her grasp as well as the other surgical mask that was needed in case you both needed to dissect something.

“Are you sure I’m allowed to do this? I don’t have a license,” you questioned, as you placed the mask over your mouth causing Ieiri to look at you before saying to not worry since she was here - which caused you to look at her with a sceptical expression before going on to the task at hand as you stood next to her to peer over one of the deceased curses that were laying on the metal bench.

While observing the gruesome sight, you began to steadily see a trail of the lingering residue of cursed energy from the whole body, yet for some reason, there was a connection to the brain as you continued to stare that the sight much to your dismay.

“Human?” you stated in a perplexed tone while continuing to look at the head as the most amount of residue was there for the most part. “There’s a connection to the brain, so I assume the brain stems have been tampered with to alter the formation of the body, but the person wouldn’t know any of that due to probably their now impaired consciousness...it’s as if the human has been transfigured in a way like the other one behind us,” you informed Ieiri, who seemed to agree with you as she lightly nodded her head.

“Though the relationship between the brain and the cursed energy is still a black box right now, they died because of the modification and not because of the sorcerer,” the doctor added, causing you to give a side glance in her direction as you continued to listen to her explanation.

“Do you think it’s to do with the soul?” you asked, as you fully turned to look at her while she looked at you in confusion.

“Right now, we’re looking at it in a biological sense but if we are talking about a cursed spirit like Sukuna for example that is doing this, it has to do with the soul rather than the body itself,” you informed the doctor, causing her to look at you with widened eyes as she didn’t expect her old schoolmate’s daughter to have such a high capability to come to different ideas since it was Gojo that was your parent after all.

“Kento will have to ask the culprit about their cursed technique to see if your theory is correct,” Ieiri mentioned, leading you to look at her confused once again as you threw your surgical mask in the bin, only for her to swiftly inform you that a grade one sorcerer by the name of Nanami Kento was the one to inform her about the situation.

“I have to make a quick call to him to explain the discovery we made. Can you step outside and wait for me before I call you back so we can proceed to your lesson?” the doctor asked you with a smile leading you to nod at her before making your way towards the metal door that had come through before as you took one more peek at the Jujutsu Tech’s doctor’s direction with a perplexed and doubtful sense.

‘What’s the reason for me to be out of the room if I got involved with the investigation? What are you hiding from me?’

However, you didn’t want to make a whole fuss about your suspicion since you really didn’t have the effort to voice out your concern leading you to leave the room with more questions plaguing your mind as the ringing tone carried itself in the air.

“This is such a drag”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[staticscreenwriting]

Where the heart is // B. B.

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) are getting a divorce because they are silly and both love the other so damn much. (Happy Ending!)

TW: Talk of divorce. Talk of potential pregnancy and babies.

A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.] 

TAGLIST: Find the link to join my taglist in my bio. Will reblog this post with the taglist attached seperately. 

Waking up from this nightmare How's your life, what's it like there? Is it all what you want it to be? Does it hurt when you think about me? And how broken my heart is

The apartment is deadly quiet as Bucky steps inside, only the rattling of his keys echoing through the halls that once seemed so warm and inviting are now but a cold reminder of what used to be.

People never really talk about these moments. The after. The wreckage. The ruins of what used to be. Sure there are movies and books and countless songs but they take the feeling and they wrap it up in beautiful words and prose and make something beautiful of it.

There’s nothing beautiful in the way Bucky feels as his feet drag him towards what used to be his bedroom, which is now hers. There’s nothing beautiful in the way he feels as his eyes wander over to the closed door behind which lays an empty room. One that is empty not because of choice but because of the shitty cards life has dealt both him and her.

There is nothing beautiful about the way he feels. Only sadness. Only hurt.

When he turns the corner and steps into the bedroom, his heart drops for a second. He hadn’t expected her to be here, not with how quiet the place is. But sure enough, there she is. Sitting on the fluffy comforter they bought together, legs tucked underneath herself. She said that comforter was the exact same shade of blue as his eyes. Now she doesn’t even lift her head to look at him, focusing only on the box resting on the bed before her.

“Hey uh — I didn’t expect to run into you.”  

“ I live here. Sorry to disappoint.“

“ I know, that’s not what I meant. It’s just so quiet. “

She shrugs but still doesn’t look up. There’s so much resentment there, dripping from every word. He can’t fault her for it. Not even a little. If he was her, he’d hate himself too. Maybe this will make it easier for them. If she hates him, that’s a straight cut. Right? Hating is easy. It’s loving that’s hard.

“ It’s like that now. You here to get some of your stuff?” she asks, looking up at him for the first time. Her eyes are red and tired. Not like they were when he left, filled with tears and sorrow. Now they’re just infinitely sad and exhausted. Like all the life and all the warmth and all the passion that he fell so deeply in love with, has been sucked out of her. He hates knowing it’s partially his fault.

“ If that’s okay with you.”

“ sure. “

The movies and the poems and the books and the songs, they never talk about this. The after. The limbo. The “will you keep this or shall I take it?”

They don’t talk about the fact that you’re supposed to pack 5 years of relationship into a bunch of boxes and figure out what to do with it.

He quietly walks into the closet, as if making any noise would break whatever bubble is currently surrounding the two of them. Sometimes he wonders if things would be different had they been different people. Had they been able to express their feelings differently. Sometimes, in the most secret part of his heart, Bucky wishes there would’ve been screaming. Maybe screaming would’ve been helpful. Sure, it’s not the most eloquent way of communication but at least it is communication. But there was no screaming. Only silence. Only feelings swallowed up to never be spoken about. To suffocate them from the inside out.

Making as little noise as possible, Bucky grabs some of his clothes and stuffs them into the duffle bag Sam gave him. He had that look on his face, the pitiful one. The one that says “sorry, man”. There’s no reason to feel sorry for Bucky. This is his fault after all.

There’s a sound coming from behind him, and for a second he really believes it’s his mind playing tricks on him. But then he hears it again, louder this time, more clearly.

She’s laughing. Maybe not a full-on laugh but a chuckle. It’s been a while since he’s heard that sound.

“ What’s got you laughing like that ? “ Bucky asks as he turns back around only to be greeted by her smiling face. God how much he misses that smile.

She looks back down towards the box in front of her and the picture in her hand.

“ It’s uh — it’s a picture of the first time you stayed over. “

His legs carry him towards the bed as if they work on autopilot. As he sits down next to he can just about make out the scent of her shampoo. The one he bought for himself last week, not because he necessarily likes to use it. He bought it because he misses the scent. Because he misses her. And if he can keep her close like this, even for a small moment, he’ll buy an entire store's worth of shampoo.

Her fingers gently grip the picture so as to not rip or crumble it. He can’t hold back the smile that pulls at the corner of his lips as he recognizes the picture. It’s a slightly less gloomy version of him, in love and asleep. Curled up on her old tiny couch in her old tiny apartment with her dog Yoda sleeping soundly on his chest. He was so nervous to stay over at her place the first time he did. Nervous about so many different things but mostly about doing something to hurt her. Physically but also emotionally. To think that now his biggest fear came true, crushes his heart even further.

“ I miss Yoda. He was a good dog,” she says as she puts the photo back into the box. Truth be told, Bucky misses him too. He was grumpy and lazy and he didn’t ever really listen to them. But he was loyal and cuddly and all in all, he was the perfect dog for the two of them. And he had accepted Bucky into his and her life immediately. As if he knew that Bucky of all people needed nothing more than a chance to prove himself to be something other than a killer.

There are more pictures in the box, alongside other clutter that Bucky can’t quite make out. One of the other pictures he can see clearly, is one of the two of them on their first Halloween. The Halloween that Bucky didn’t want to dress up for. The one he promised himself he would spend curled up on his couch watching a scary movie and not open the door to anyone, Trick or Treaters or otherwise.

He ended up going out anyway. With her. FOR her. And it was one of the best nights of his life even if it meant he had to dress up like a skeleton.

“ What is all this? “ he asks though, by the way his heart starts beating faster, Bucky isn’t sure he even wants to know the answer to that question. “ You getting rid of our pictures? “

He doesn’t want it to sound so accusatory. They’re broken up. Separated. In the early process of a divorce. She has every right to get rid of their pictures. Get rid of him. Bury the memories. Just because he can’t let go doesn’t mean that she’s grieving in the same way.

“ No, “ she scoffs and pulls out a small scrap of paper, “ this is a memory box I started when we first got together. It’s things I didn’t know where to put but that I wanted to hold on to. I had planned to give it to you for our 10 year anniversary but … well “

She doesn’t have to say it. He knows.

“ Then after the — seperation I put some other stuff in there. Memories.” 

“ Can I see what else is in there? “ he asks “ since I won’t get to see it on our 10 year anniversary.”

Bucks isn’t quite sure why he adds that to the end of his sentence. It makes him sound spiteful and mean and he can tell, by the look on her face, that it hurts her. And he’s done enough of that in the past. Isn’t that exactly the reason they are here in the first place?

She considers it for a moment and Buck can only guess the different kinds of emotions running through her then. He feels them too. All of them. They are confusing and most of them are negative. She has no reason to let him see this, relish in sweet nostalgia with him as if everything is okay and they’re not getting a fucking divorce.

“ Sure, I guess. I —  yeah.”

She scoots more to the middle of the bed, making more space for Bucky to sit down properly. He’s perched on the side that was his. The side he fell asleep on and woke up on so many times. And she was there next to him. Always there and warm and soft. And she’d smile at him through sleepy eyes and a hazy mind and she’d rival the sun. And then she’d gently comb her fingers through his hair and say good morning and he knew it would be — a good morning.

He hasn’t had a good morning since he left.

She moves the box to sit between them on the bed and motions for Bucky to start digging in.

There’s a pile of what he realizes are old movie tickets. It's something they used to do when they first started dating. Thursdays were movie days. But while everyone went to see the new blockbusters, the two of them would pick the movies that sounded the weirdest and they’d buy a big bucket of popcorn and blue raspberry slushies and just relish in the grandeur that is bad cinema. Most of the time they were the only ones at the cinema. Sometimes things got — R rated.

“ Why did we stop doing this? “ she asks as Bucky looks up from the tickets “ going to the movies I mean. It was always my favorite day of the week. “

He tries to remember. Tries to pinpoint the moment when life changed and their Thursdays weren’t their Thursdays anymore. He can’t. He comes up empty.

Sometimes life changes in little ways, ones you don’t realize at that moment and they don’t seem significant either. It’s a broken tradition. A missed movie night. It’s slow and creeping but at some point, you stop and look at your life now and it doesn’t resemble your life then anymore. Everything has changed and you didn’t even notice. Not for one single second.

“ I have —  I have no idea. “ he has to confess.

“ Remember that movie with the killer florist ? “ she asks and her voice is laced with laughter. Something sparks up in his heart. A tiny flicker of something he’s missed. Something he hasn’t felt in a while. He can’t help but laugh along.

“ I do! Or the one where the woman fell in love with the Koi in her neighbor's pond? ”

“ Oh god! That was terrible. “

“ It was.”

She looks wistful for a moment as if her thoughts wander off to some long-forgotten memory.

“ What are you thinking about? “

He never usually had to ask her. He’d either know or she’d tell him on her own accord. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between them. One he wants to break down or climb over so badly. But does she want him there? After everything?

“ The day we saw that movie was the first time you said I love you. “

It’s true. Now that she mentions it he remembers it so clearly. It’s like he’s suddenly faced with a scene from a movie he’s forgotten about a long time ago but once someone mentions it, he remembers it in great detail. Knows every word. Every line.

“ I still don’t quite know what it was about that moment that made you say it but — “ she trails off, a smile playing on her lips.

Bucky knows. It wasn’t a groundbreaking realization back then. He’d been feeling it for months. Fell deeper in love with her with every glance, every smile, every silly movie he got to watch with her. They went to some dingy diner after the movie to grab a burger and some fries. The leather seats were old and the filling was spilling out, the air smelled of grease and air freshener, and the laminated menu cards were sticky with undefinable stains. All things considered, it should’ve been a bad date. It wasn’t though. Nothing was ever bad with her. She smiled. All she did was smile and hum along to some song Bucky didn’t know as it spilled from the jukebox. And it occurred to him then, that there was no need for a big gesture or a special moment. Every moment with her was special. Life couldn’t get any better than this. Existing was enough if only she was there.

“ Nothing. “

“ Hm? “

“ There was nothing special about that moment. I just realized that I would be okay with anything if only you are there. You — that’s all I need in life. “

She looks at him then and for a second he thinks that maybe she’ll kiss him. Tell him that they are making a mistake and ask him to come back. Tell him that she doesn’t blame him. That she forgives him. That she wants him anyway. Despite — everything. She doesn’t though. Just sighs and pulls another picture from the box.

It’s a picture of the two of them cuddled up on the couch with a tiny white ball of fluff resting on her chest.

“ Our first picture with Alpine. “

“ That was taken on the day we found him. Look, you can clearly see the scratches on my face from crawling around the dumpsters to rescue him. “ Bucky points out.

He had never thought of himself as a cat person. Really he wasn’t so much an anything-person anymore, after Hydra. But somehow that little cat had wormed his way into his heart and refused to leave.

“ Was worth it though! “

Bucky nods his head in agreement “ it was. “

“ You should — you should take him. He’s really more your cat than mine.”

“ He’s our cat.” he points out.

“ Bucky there won’t be an ours anymore. Soon.”

It breaks his heart. Over and over again. He just got used to being himself. The version he was when he was with her. How is he gonna deal with doing it all over again? He doesn’t want to be a version of himself after her.

“ I don’t have a place yet and Sam’s allergic. “

“ He can stay here until then, of course. I love him. “

There’s a lot of love there that’s being given up on, Bucky realizes. And he hates every part of it.

“ Shit, remember this? “ she chimes up again as her hand holds onto a thin receipt, the black ink bleached away and thinned out from years of being stuck in a box. From years of memories fading.

“ Is that from the —”

“ The tattoo place, yeah. “

The patch of skin on the inside of his arm grows hot as if he is suddenly aware of what is there. Something long forgotten. A small letter forever etched into his skin in black ink like the way she’s forever etched into his heart. Always there. Forever. Just like the delicate lines that write his own name onto her collar bone. James. Not Bucky. Not Winter Soldier. James.

“ Oh god, I can’t believe you kept these,” Buck exclaims as he picks a pair of bright blue knitted socks from the box. They’re made from scratchy wool and there are a million and one holes in them. It’s so her. So quintessentially her. To keep them. With their holes and their scratchy wool and all. Even if they’re a mess. Even if they’re broken. She holds onto things no matter how bad. No matter how lost and sad and broken and useless. She holds on tight and doesn’t let go. Unless you make her. Unless you force her to. Unless you break her heart.

“ Umm … you made them for me. Like you literally learned how to knit to make me a pair of socks to keep my feet warm. That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, Buck. Of course, I kept them. “

Bucky bashfully shrugs his shoulders, a tint of red dusting his cheeks. “ I’m glad you liked them. Even if they’re scratchy. “

“ I like you and Alpine and you guys are the scratchiest,” she points out. She’s not wrong.

“ Was I a good boyfriend? “ Bucky asks and while in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter, he wants to know anyway. Wants to know he did something right.

“ You were the best boyfriend. “

“ I’m sorry I was a shit husband. “

She stays quiet for a moment and with every second that passes by he breaks more and more. He wonders how much of him is left at this point. How much there’s still to lose. Then again, what does it matter? He lost her and that’s all that really matters.

“ You weren’t a shit husband, Bucky. “

It’s like the world suddenly moves in slow motion as they both grab the 2 things left in the box.

Bucky holds onto the blue velvet box knowing exactly what’s inside. The last time he held it, got on his knees in front of her, put the ring on her finger, that was one of the best days of his life. A sign that the Winter Soldier was his past and that he could finally truly move on. They were younger, in love. Happy. Now he hardly remembers what happiness feels like.

“ I was so nervous to give this to you. Not because I thought you’d say no or anything. I just — I just wanted to be enough. The ring and the proposal and — me. “

“ You were always enough. “ she says and he can hear the tears in her voice. It’s thick and heavy and he knows that if he looks at her now, there will be tears in her eyes too.

But he doesn’t look at her then. His eyes fall onto the piece of fabric in her hands. It’s so small. Soft peached colored with a little bunny embroidered on the front. It’s tiny and cute and it belongs to no one. It’s tiny and it should’ve been theirs. But it isn’t.

“ No, I wasn’t. He says and shakes his head. You deserve more than I can give you. “

She throws the baby romper back into the box and gets off the bed as if someone has set it on fire.

“ What’s wrong? “ he asks as if he doesn’t know. Everything. Everything about this situation is wrong. They’re supposed to make love on this bed, not cry over memories long gone. Push away thoughts of their looming divorce.

“ I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe you can tell me. “ She calls out to him as she pulls the rest of his shirts from the closet and throws them into the bedroom. Colors of fabric flying through the air like wings of a bird flapping through the winds. Some of them she lops at him, passion and anger and wrath and sadness filling her eyes. “ Maybe you can tell me why the fuck we’re doing this. Why we’re putting ourselves through all this pain and suffering and this bullshit divorce. Maybe you can tell me why you left me to have a fucking breakdown every time I walk into my closet and see this goddamn dress, “ she cries while holding up the hanger over which her beautiful white wedding dress is draped. God, she looked so beautiful that day. Like a goddess. Like an angel. Like his redemption.

“ We were happy. We were trying to have a family. And then what — it doesn’t work and you leave? You just gave up. “

“ I didn’t give up. “

“ Yes, you fucking did! You gave up and you served me divorce papers and you didn’t even give me a fucking choice. “

“ You agreed! “

“ Because I love you and if you don’t want to be with me, then I am not keeping you. I love you enough to let you be happy even if it’s without me.”

Those words send a shock through his heart. Like an icicle. Cold and sharp and unforgiving.

“ You think I don’t love you? You think YOU are the reason?,” Bucky questions before grabbing the romper from the box and holding it up “ this is the reason. This is my fault and mine alone. It’s my fault that this belongs to no one. It’s my fault that there’s an empty room in this apartment that you can’t walk into because it hurts you too much to see it empty. You deserve to be a mother and clearly, I can’t give that to you. That’s the burden I carry but it’s not one that should be put on you. I can’t give you this but you deserve it and you should have it. So this is me letting you go so you can find someone that can give you a baby. Someone who isn’t broken. Someone who doesn't have a body that doesn’t work anymore. Not in the way it should. “

“ James, “ her words a but a whisper as his name tumbles from her lips and she lets her wedding dress fall to the floor to sit next to him and hold his face in between her hands. “ That wasn’t your fault and you are not broken. I want a family, yes. I want a child. But with you. I want a family with you and it doesn’t matter if it’s my blood or not. It’s our family whichever way we decide to do this. And if we — if we stay just us and Alpine that’s fine too. I just want you and whatever else we decide on. Together. I love you, James. I love you and I miss you and I don’t want a baby if it’s not with you. A family means nothing if it doesn’t include you. Whatever the consequences of the serum are, they are not your fault. You are not broken, James. You are you. You’re a hero. A husband. And maybe one day a father but above all, you are James Buchanan Barnes, a survivor and you are not broken.  “

He knows he should be saying so many things right then but all his thoughts get tangled up and won't find the way to his lips.

Instead, he says the only other thing he can think about right then.

“ You looked so beautiful in your wedding dress. “

She laughs through the flood of tears that leak from her eyes and trail down her face.

“ I mean you always look beautiful but that day. My god. I honestly couldn’t believe you said yes to me — of all people. 106 year old me. Wouldn’t believe it until the moment you walked down the aisle. Then I knew that this was really the start of my new life. Of my forever. “

“ I miss you Bucky. “

“ I miss you too. “

“ I don’t want to divorce you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband.”

“ Even without the babies? “

“ Yes, “ she nods and brushes her fingers through his short hair. “ You are my family James and you are enough for me. Always”

“ I love you. “ he says because really, it’s the only thing he can think of. The thing he wants most. The only thing that matters.

Without another word, he pulls the ring from the box and delicately slips it back onto her finger. Where it belongs. Where it always belonged.

“ I’m sorry I was ever this stupid. I should’ve just talked to you “

“ Yeah you should have but right now can you — can you just kiss me? “

She doesn’t need to ask him twice. He kisses her once, then twice, then once again. It’s been a long long time since the last time he’s kissed her. Too long. Way too long.

He’s not gonna stop anytime soon. Never again. Never ever again.

“ Hey, “ he says “ how about you slip into your wedding dress I think for all my stupid decisions I owe you a dance. “

“ I think you might be right. “

And she’s smiling, so bright and radiant. Like the sun. Like all the stars. Like his own personal light in the darkness.

“ Don’t expect too much though. I just cried, my hair is a mess — I won’t look the way you remember me looking in this dress. “

“ You’ll look gorgeous.”

And he’s right. She looks breathtaking. She looks like a wonderful, wonderful dream. Like love captured in a person. Like a second chance. Like his home.

There are a lot of thoughts racing through Bucky’s mind as he pulls her close and they sway to the melodic tunes of their wedding song as it sounds from the speakers of her cellphone. But above all there’s love. And the knowledge that he is enough. That they are enough. Their tiny little family. Perfect and not broken or missing anything. It’s good as it is.

They don’t have to think about who gets to keep the decorative throw pillows, the records they used to collect together, the plates that were a wedding gift, the cat. Because it’s theirs. Together. Shared.

And forever.

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Nanny Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: alcohol/drinking, food, corrupt cop, mentions of prostitution/smut, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, mentions of serial killers/murder, mutual pining, 

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: I got inspired re-watching one of my favorite shows and I want to know if anyone else gets the reference I’m using! If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know! This is also unedited!

Taglist Form is in my bio!

Series Masterlist

Your shoulders tensed listening to the radio in the morning. Sitting on your ottoman, you were painting your nails, using the coffee table as your nail station. It was a really bright morning, and you had the curtains pulled open to draw in light. Julie frantically rushed between her room and the bathroom getting ready for her shift at the diner. The newest single from The Beach Boys was playing through the little counter top radio, but at the top of the hour, the melodies playing through the speaker changed to the news. The top story of the morning was chilling.

“Jules,” you said, calling her over hesitantly, putting the cap back on the bottle of polish. “Come listen to this.”

She scurried out of her room while working to tie her apron in the back, and then she stood next to where you sat to listen to the story on the news. The color drained from her face as you both listened to the reporter describe the horrific scene that was under investigation early this morning.

Roy Laferty was an evangelical preacher whose body washed up by the lake very early that same morning. The news report talked about the police investigation, and also disclosed his wife Helen, is also reported missing. They are looking into the disappearance of Helen, as well as opening a full investigation on Laferty’s murder. They also urge individuals with any information regarding the two to call the Sheriff’s department and to provide a statement.

“That’s horrifying,” you mumble, shocked as you try to process the news. Julie nods in agreement but strangely doesn’t seem nearly as affected by the news as you.

“It’s happening again,” she mutters, obviously concerned but her lack of surprise worries you.

“What do you mean again?” you ask.

“There was a string of unexplained murders, all men, like this newest one,” Julie explained, “This was all over the news like two years ago- can’t believe you hadn’t heard about it.” All you could do was shrug; this was all new to you. “Obviously, there was nothing linking their deaths, but there were these five killings a couple of years ago that are still unsolved. There’s no evidence, but the town rumors it was like a serial killer or something. Nothing is confirmed, of course, just a story.”

“What makes people think it was all the same person?” you ask, hesitantly.

“All the people were always the same type,” she shrugs, “Men all in their 20s and 30s. Again, there’s nothing linking them all together. It’s just talk.”

You clicked off the radio, and didn’t know what to do with yourself. Julie patted your shoulder, comfortingly but she had to go on with her day. So did you, and you almost her ability to move about the apartment almost unfazed by the news. You suppose it makes sense, her growing up here she’s probably used to it. You didn’t have the experience or the thick skin she had.

You had decided to go to the library, still preoccupied by the news segment as well as the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff. You spent the better half of the morning looking at the library’s archives of old newspapers. You wanted to read more about the unsolved cases Julie had told you about, so there you sat for several hours looking through the microfilm reader. You even stumbled upon articles that featured the Sheriff.

There he was plain as day on the front page when it was announced he had won the election the first time he ran several years back. You couldn’t help but notice the changes in his appearance and demeanor compared to the man you keep running into. He was a little slimmer, and he looked a lot happier, a little fuller of life, you decided was a good way to explain it. His smile was wider, and you could see the difference in his eyes as well. It was seeing how he was before the stress of the job began to take its heavy toll. He had on the same leather jacket as well, you were fairly certain, even though the one in the photograph hung a little looser.

You continued to skim through articles, piecing your way through the history of Knockemstiff. Little articles in black and white that persevered the history of this dark little town. You were beginning to realize this backwater town was a lot more tangled and complex than you originally believed. It was a tangled history, riddled with crime and unclosed cases, that people seem to have either forgotten or choose to ignore for their own sake. Your mind wandered back to the things Julie had told you about the Sheriff and him being corrupt. You wonder how much of what you read about linked back to him. Though you imagine if he has any sort of political connection, which a man like him must have, the things he was involved in probably didn’t even make it into the paper. The thought made you physically shiver.

You put the large leather portfolios of archives you took and put them back into their proper place on the self chronologically. You grabbed your sweater from the back of your chair, and pushed the chair back into place. Looking up at the clock on the wall, it was only just one in the afternoon. You decided to head down to the diner and grab a bite, and also visit Julie during her second shift. It was a short walk from the library to the diner. Everywhere felt like a short walk here, probably because everything in downtown was not much bigger than a few blocks. The majority of people lived far from the center of town, on their own land and farms.

The little bell on the door rang when you stepped in and Julie waved at you from behind the counter and pointed for you to grab an empty table in her section. You put your bag on the table and took a seat. It was a fairly busy time, most people who worked at the surrounding businesses coming in for their lunch break. Julie brought you over a coffee and then said she’d be back to chat when she got to take her five.

Lee hadn’t been able to go home since the phone call. The symptoms of his hangover were worsening and he was growing more irritable. His five o’clock shadow was still evident on his tired face and his head was pounding. He tried his best to just power through it but the sound of anyone trying to talk to him just made his ears ring.

After leaving the scene, he had to stop by his office and then he was on the phone for the better part of an hour fielding calls from frantic citizens not only of Knockemstiff but also Meade, where Laferty was from. Despite how horribly he felt, he tried his best to keep his temper level and just reassure people he had things under control. He was losing his patience.

He opened up his desk drawer and grabbed his bottle of asprin. Empty. He threw it into the small waste bin and got up abruptly grabbing his jacket off the hook and storming out. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving and he didn’t care. It was a short walk to the drugstore from the station and he wouldn’t be five minutes. He just needed to do something to stop his head from hurting.

“Afternoon, Sheriff,” the pharmacist greeted when he walked in. He nodded his head upwards briefly to reply without having to talk. He just needed to get in and out. She went back to whatever she was working on when he came in, and he browsed the aisles for what he needed. After paying and walking out, he glanced in the direction of the diner when he was crossing the street. There you were, again. Sitting alone and chatting with the waitress that was refilling your coffee.

He let out a heavy sigh, and then continued walking. He didn’t want you to see him like this, hungover, unshaved, wrinkled uniform and heavy undereye bags from his lack of sleep. You looked- well, Lee thought you were the prettiest thing he’s seen in a while, maybe ever. There was something about you he couldn’t pinpoint. Maybe it was just because you weren’t from here. You were a fresh face, and not ruined by this town. There was a sweetness and an innocence in how you talked to him, because you didn’t know him like the rest of people here did. He liked that.

Even when he left the station for the day, he couldn’t even go home yet. He had a meeting at the bar with one of Brown’s lackeys. He was just supposed to collect his cut so he couldn’t imagine it would take long, but he was still annoyed. Stepping into the bar he looked around as he took off his hat. It was a little more crowded tonight then when he was here last. The red curtain was closed and his eyes lingered there for a moment before directing his attention to the man he recognized who was waving him over.

“Sheriff,” the man greets and Lee slides into the booth across from him.

“Hayward,” he replies. Without even needing to order, the bartender comes over bringing them a bottle of scotch and two glasses.

“You ever go back there?” Hayward asks, watching as a girl came out and brought a man behind the curtain who had been waiting at the bar.

“No,” Lee scoffs.

“They are amazing,” Hayward says, almost giddy. Lee feels sympathy towards the poor woman who had to take care of him. Lee doesn’t acknowledge the statement and just empties his glass and begins to pour himself a second.

“So, my cut?” Lee asks. Hayward frowns and goes into the breast pocket of his sports coat and pulls out an envelope of cash.

“You aren’t getting full,” the man says when Lee cocks a brow at the thinness of the envelope.

“Still?” Lee asks, pissed. Hayward nods. Lee’s jaw clenches.

“You didn’t keep things tidy on your end,” Hayward reminds him, “You got one job. Keep the cops out of our territory. We had two cruisers drive through last week. The only reason you’re getting anything at all is cause you managed to keep your people off us when we did the exchange with Deckard’s crew.”

The man finishes his drink, and then slaps the empty glass on the table. He pulls out his own envelope, which is much thicker than Lee’s and drops down more than enough for the drinks. He chuckles condescendingly and tells the Sheriff to get a dance. Fuck that. Lee takes the extra money and plans to just put it right in his pocket and go home. He finishes his third scotch and suddenly his headache was back. He felt worse than he did earlier today.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” a feminine voice asks, making him break his line of thought. He looks to his side and he recognizes her as one of the girls he sees bringing men to the back room, behind the velvet curtain. He shakes his head, and instead of leaving him alone, she slides into the booth next to him. Her hand grazes over his thigh. “You seem awful tense, Sheriff,” she says and then bites her lip.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He knows she doesn’t actually want him, and it’s just an attempt to get him to spend money in the backroom. If he doesn’t focus his already hazing vision, maybe she could vaguely remind him of you. He can’t do it, but he wants to. Her hand moves up his leg and he pulls away. He adjusts his pants and she shrugs.

“Maybe next time then,” she winks before walking away. He rests his head back on the vinyl seat and sighs. He grabs his hat and jacket, leaving before he changes his mind. “Ask for Cherry when you come in, yeah?” she calls when he walks out.

You are just everywhere. You’re in his head and he doesn’t even know you. He needs to sleep, desperately, and part of him in the back of his mind hopes you’ll be there. When he wakes up, he doesn’t remember.

“Have you heard about the Church fundraiser coming up?” Julie asks. You shake your head. “It’s a pretty big deal here. Everyone participates.”

“What is it?” you ask, kicking off your slippers so you can sit crisscross on the couch.

“Bid-On-A-Basket,” she says casually, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“Never heard of it,” you reply, “It sounds fun. What is it?”

“All us single gals put together a picnic basket with everything for a lunch,” she explains, “and then all the eligible bachelors bid on the basket and a date with the girl who made it. Last year, the dreamiest guy, Bill Whittier, bought mine- it’s so fun. Me and Bill didn’t work out but it was a good time.”

“I don’t know anyone here,” you say hesitantly.

“Perfect way to get a date then,” she teases. You bite your lip. You aren’t sure about this.

“And what if some creep is the highest bidder?” you counter.

“You get a bad date story for your next date?” she poses. “Please,” she begs, “It’s for a good cause, all the money this year is going to help the Sunday school.”

“What if no one bids on it?” You rebut.

“Look at yourself,” she scoffs, “you’ll get bids. Trust me.” You roll your eyes.

“I’ll think about it,” you say finally. She smirks, completely planning to wear you down.

“Remember it’s for the kids,” she reasons, “It wouldn’t hurt to go and participate.”

“I said I’ll think about it,” you laugh.

Time passes and soon enough you get another call from Sandy, and you are suddenly back to taking care of Valerie. You had missed her, a lot actually. You definitely have gotten attached to her, and you think you’ve grown on her too. Sandy was vague this time for how long they’d be gone, but since the previous time went so smoothly, you didn’t worry about it.

About a week after Sandy and Carl left this time, there was another disturbing news report. You were sitting on the floor, changing Valerie and you had the television playing softly in the background. The news told the story of another body, this time found in the woods off of the highway. You finish changing the baby and hold her close, her little chin resting on your shoulder as you watch the news story. It was just like Julie had talked about. Another man, thirty years old. He was shot and his body abandoned. You jump at the knock at the front door.

You peep through the curtains, and you see the Sheriff waiting on the front porch. You wonder if he knows you’re there. Part of you almost wishes he knows it you here and he wanted to see you. It’s incredibly stupid on your part and you know better, but nonetheless, part of you hoped he came here for you. Very stupid. With Valerie on your hip, you open the door.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he says walking into the house. He stops in front of you and presses a kiss to Valerie’s forehead and she squeals happily seeing Lee. You close the door with your foot. “May I?” he asks, and opens his arms. You agree, based on Valerie’s reactions to him whenever she sees him. He takes her in his arms, and she starts playing with his tie. He loosens it so she can play with it and not choke him.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” you ask. He reacts in a way in a way you can’t really read, but you don’t press.

His mind just goes back to the woman a couple weeks back in the brothel who asked him the same thing, and that his mind immediately had gone to you. He just clears his throat and snaps himself out of that thought process.

“Um, I just came by to see Sandy,” he says, “But I can fathom a guess that she’s not here?”

“Excellent deduction,” you joke, and he smirks. Valerie has his tie in her mouth and is covering it in drool. He doesn’t even seem to care.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and you nod. “You looked a little scared when you answered.”

“Just watching the news before you showed up is all,” you explain, “They were talking about how there was another man found dead.”

“Ain’t got nothing to worry about,” he says, “We’re on top of it. I’m on my way over there now.”

“Can I ask you something?” you ask hesitantly.

“Of course, darling.”

“My friend, you probably know her- Julie Grady.”

“Yeah, nice kid,” he says, listening but gently pulling his tie from Valerie’s grasp. She starts playing with the flap of the pocket of his jacket.

Kid. You almost grimace. That’s right. Of course, Lee would view someone your age that way. You weren’t. You chastise yourself for even caring, but you decide to continue. You shouldn’t care how he sees you.

“Yeah- well, she told me there have been others,” you continue, “I also read up about it, just the newspapers at the library- but she said people thought it was some kind of serial killer… I just, I want to know what you think.”

“I don’t think know,” he answers honestly, a little taken aback, not expecting you to approach him with something this serious. “I doubt it,” he explains, “Serial killers stay close to home. Now those cases you read about, and these two we are looking at- they sound close together but logistically, they aren’t really. Two of those unsolved were in completely different states- just like this new one.”

“So, no traveling serial killer?” you chuckle, trying to sound lighthearted. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Most people like that stay in one area,” Lee explains, “They work jobs, they have a home, you know? They tend to stay near where they live.”

“That makes me feel much better,” you answer honestly.

“You got nothing to worry about, and that’s a promise,” he grins, although he supposes coming from him that probably doesn’t mean much. Regardless, it makes you smile.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” you offer again. He bites his lip, taking a moment to think.

“Sandy keeps a bag of candy in her cabinet,” he says, walking into the kitchen with you following close behind. He passes Valerie off to you and he chuckles under his breath at the state of his tie. He reaches up in the cabinet and pulls down a brown paper bag, filled with taffies and chocolates.

Something about this man who has a whole time scared of him playing with his niece and then stealing sweets from the cupboard is something you find so strangely endearing. He unwraps one of the brightly colored taffies and then puts the bag in his pocket.

“I gotta go,” he announces, “let me know if you hear from Sandy, yeah?”

“Of course,” you reply.

“Gonna head out to that scene, and do my report,” he discloses, not really sure why he’s telling you. “Then I have a meeting at the rectory about that fundraiser thing. Figure out security.”

“They need security at Bid-On-A-Basket?” you ask, with an eyebrow raised. He smiles.

“You going?” he asks, flirtatiously.

“Just seems weird to have police at a Church thing.”

“There’s been stupid fights,” he shrugs, “some guy will get outbid and cause a fuss. Nothing serious. Probably just gonna be me and a deputy in case. You going?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you say sheepishly. “Why?”

He walks towards the front door, and you follow seeing him out.

“Cause I gotta know if I’ll be bidding on a basket,” he winks.

“You gonna start a fight if you don’t win it?” you joke.

“If it’s yours? Absolutely, darling.”

Taglist:

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro @pyronack @greeneyedblondie44  @acciosiriusblack  @weenersoldierr @teenagemutant @witchybarb @iraot @my-love-darling @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @swiftieandthewintersoldier @letsfly-andbe-free @rebekahdawkins @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @hersilencedscreams @unsaltedalmonds @dangerdolns @vintagepigeon @bluebouquetcupcake29 @goslytherin @captainofallfandoms @buckistan @aynanasstuff @everything-is-all-clear @rosalynshields @tinynshykitten​ 

[whoree321]

the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you

each of the bad batch x gn!reader

ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind

ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh

so anyway

Hunter: Pretty Woman

this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last

first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex

second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time

he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it

the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread

after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)

he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead

he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)

hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty

Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You

if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre

maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love

and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You

he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked

he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick

(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)

he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them

will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene

(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)

when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit

Tech: 50 Shades of Grey

ok hear me out on this one

tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time

this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with

he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two

and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever

you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds

and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him

with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)

but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast

literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”

even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie

also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))

Wrecker: 13 Going On 30

of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick

like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it

this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game

his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30

i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)

wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)

he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house

he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them

wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3

Echo: The Princess Bride

i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie

pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.

echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently

he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest

even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley

like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup

literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)

when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)

he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits

every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”

every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain

echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you

Omega: Clueless

i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)

so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible

clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill

it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman

it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd

if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better

the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie

at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life

the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz

she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang

(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)

it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it

she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight

(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)

honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses

she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness