#and it's highly unlikely I'll ever have the chance to so it's highly unlikely I'll ever have the chance to get married

[martianbugsbunny]

man when I think of marriage I just like...I want to find somebody who I can show my silly little drawings to, somebody who will listen to me jabber about the rocks I stole from the parking lot, somebody who won't make fun of me for crying about books or movies, somebody I can sit around in my underwear with on a hot summer night and who still thinks I look cute in one of those marshmallowy-big winter coats because that's how I know I'm going to love them

[suzukiblu]

Excerpt from an in-progress DP x DC soulmate AU starring Jazz Fenton, a very unfortunate mugger, and a smoothie. Oh, and I guess Jason is there too.

Jazz meets her soulmate in, of all places, Park Row. Or as the locals call it, Crime Alley.

Seems about right for her life, she decides as she kicks the shit out of the guy who was trying to stab him for his wallet fifteen seconds ago. Her soulmate watches her curiously, seeming unconcerned by the fuss, and takes a sip of his smoothie.

Also seems about right, for her soulmate. A guy who got too nervous when necessary violence happened was not going to survive Thanksgiving in Amity Park, much less Christmas.

Well, it is Gotham.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi, sorry, one sec," Jazz says, then leans over the groaning mugger and offers him a card to the best local crisis center she's managed to track down via research and word of mouth in the four months she's been in Gotham. Not her card, obviously, since she just roundhouse-kicked the guy in the head to protect her soulmate from him and that's arguably a conflict of interest. Or close enough, anyway. "So you should check these guys out, they've got a very high success rate in their job program and there's an associated food bank and rent assistance, if you qualify."

"What?" the mugger says dazedly.

"Also if you ever touch my soulmate again I'll make you wish for the cold mercy of the Infinite Realms," Jazz adds pleasantly. The guy goes very, very pale. Then he snatches the card from her and runs for his life and eternal soul.

"This is the nicest thing the universe has ever done to me," her soulmate muses, taking another sip of his smoothie.

"Getting you mugged?" Jazz asks wryly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Are you religious? Do you want kids?" her soulmate asks. "Also, who's your favorite Bat?"

"Robin, obviously," Jazz says. "The overdramatic and feral little stabby one, I mean. He reminds me of my little brother. Makes me feel a little bit maternal, to be honest. So that answers two out of three, and as far as religion goes, I only believe in Psychology Today, highly customized guns, and my mom's ninth-degree black belt."

"This better not awaken anything in me," her soulmate mutters under his breath.

"That seems unlikely, or we wouldn't be soulmates," Jazz says.

"Point," he says, sipping his smoothie again. Jazz didn't even know anywhere in Crime Alley sold smoothies, but she is new around here. "Wanna go break my bed? Or maybe go get coffee?"

"You've already got a smoothie," Jazz says.

"So I do," he says.

Jazz looks him over. He's her soulmate, so she's not surprised to find him gorgeous. She wasn't ever expecting a familial soulmate–Danny is a very intense sibling to have, and her parents are very intense parents to have, not to mention everything about Dani, and "soulcousins" aren't typically a thing–and she's never been especially interested in keeping around too many close friends, so considering all that, she was already expecting her soulmate to be a romantic one. If they are platonic, it's definitely only going to be because her soulmate is an aromantic asexual. Which he probably isn't, since he already asked about kids and religion and if she wanted to go break his bed.

Then again, she's met people who'll posture worse than that. Especially guys, and especially ace ones with a clear investment in their masculinity, and given this particular guy is built like a brick house could only dream to be, chances are he has some feelings about his masculinity. Though he's also drinking a visibly pink smoothie, not a neutral-colored protein shake or generic black coffee, so . . . fifty-fifty there, maybe?

Further inquiry will probably be required.

"I'm Jazz," she tells him. "What's your name?"

"Robin," he says. Then he–pauses. Blinks. "I mean–Robin."

He looks very confused for a second, and Jazz blinks too, and refocuses her eyes a bit. Oh, is he–

"Are you overshadowing that guy?" she assumes. For the love of–of course her soulmate would be a ghost, she thinks dryly. Who'd want a soulmate their mom and dad wouldn't want to grill for information and ask a thousand invasive questions, after all? "I mean, he's really hot, don't get me wrong, he looks good on you, but I'd rather meet you for real."

"'Overshadowing'?" Robin looks bemused.

"I'm Danny's sister," Jazz clarifies. Robin does not look less bemused. "You know, the new king?"

"What?" Robin says. Jazz frowns a little, feeling a bit bemused herself.

"Do you not get out much?" she asks.

"Never, actually, but also yes and constantly and way too often," Robin says. "My job is kind of demanding that way."

"What's your job?" Jazz asks curiously. Ghosts' jobs are always interesting, even if only for how they interact and manifest with their Obsessions. She wonders what his Obsession is, actually, because smoothies seem like an unlikely option but she doesn't have much else to go on here.

Can't be weirder than Box Ghost, either way.

"I'm a Bat," Robin says, then looks absolutely alarmed and also absolutely horrified.

"Huh," Jazz says, tilting her head. He seems really big to be one of the Robins, and a little too old besides. A year or two younger than her, maybe, and even the older Robin she's pretty sure is at best Danny's age. Though that's assuming this body is the one he fights crime in, admittedly. Although it's kinda funny if one of the Bats is just named Robin. Must get annoying on patrol, though. "I didn't know any of you were dead, but I guess that's not actually a surprise either, given the profession."

"Why did I say that to you?" Robin asks tightly.

"I told you, I'm the new king's sister," Jazz says. "You know, it's the royal family thing. Technically I'm his regent, legally speaking, but only because I'm better at paperwork and he doesn't count as a legal adult in the Infinite Realms yet. Hasn't been dead long enough, you know how it is. But I've been alive long enough to, apparently? But his 'being alive' technically stopped tracking at fourteen. It's complicated, basically."

"What the fuck does that mean?!" Robin demands.

"It means you can't lie to me because you're one of my brother's subjects," Jazz says, really not understanding his reaction. Every ghost knows this, after all. The only ones who wouldn't know it are too young to be away from their guardians' haunts or even leave the Infinite Realms at all. Definitely a ghost who knows how to overshadow someone this thoroughly and fully is old enough and experienced enough to know it, though. "Whose body is that, anyway?"

"It's my father's," Robin says. Jazz's eyes widen a little and she has several very concerned internal reactions before he chokes and sputters–"I mean–it's not–he's not–!"

"You realize there is no healthy way to mean that, right?" Jazz says. Robin looks frustrated and freaked out and she feels bad about it, because she didn't mean or want to upset him, but she clearly has. "Sorry. I mean, I still secretly feel like I'm the one parenting my parents half the time, you're not the only one with weird feelings about yours."

"I'm his," Robin says, then grits his teeth in visible pain. He's this close to crushing the smoothie cup he's holding but hasn't actually done it. Jazz wonders if that's an example of deliberate self-control or subconscious restraint.

She's pretty sure Robin didn't mean to say that, though.

"Are you okay?" she asks, a little concerned. Normally ghosts just stop talking about things they want to lie about, when they realize who she is.

"No," Robin says. "I'm just his. I've always been his, I always will be, his good soldier, his worst mistake, not his actual fucking son, why am I telling you this?!"

"I don't know," Jazz says, frowning in increased concern. "Usually people can work around the inability to lie a little bit, but you sound like you're being compelled to speak. Increasingly like, actually. Hm. What's your Obsession? And what kind of core do you have?"

"What?" he says.

"They might be making you unstable, is all," Jazz says. "I don't think it'd be a soulmate thing but to be fair I don't really know how that works. Are you dead, or are you a manifestation of something?"

"I'm dead," Robin says, staring at her. "That bastard clown beat my head in with a crowbar and blew up what was left of me. I woke up in my grave and–I–how did you know that?"

"Well, I didn't, that's why I asked," Jazz says reasonably, idly wondering why the Joker isn't dead yet, since this is Gotham and obviously it wouldn't be another "bastard clown" Robin was referencing, even if he wasn't a Bat. But like, at least dead via the court system, if nothing else. The Joker is insane, yes, but no one can argue he doesn't know right from wrong at this point. Does New Jersey just not have the death penalty, maybe? She hasn't thought to check. "Maybe it's the guy you're in? He's not drunk or high or anything, is he?"

"I hate drugs," Robin says, gritting his teeth again; tightening his grip on the smoothie again. He's trembling, just barely. "I hate them. I'd never touch them. I don't know what you are. You're scaring me. Please stop."

He definitely didn't mean to say that, Jazz can tell.

But . . . he doesn't know what she is.

He doesn't know.

Well, that's a problem.

"Robin," she says gently, and for some reason his face twists painfully at the sound of his own name. "Can I see your core? Please?"

[bones4thecats]

➸ Their S/O Is A Singer; Twisted Wonder.

Character: Azul Ashengrotto and Jamil Viper (separate) A/N: <3<3<3<3 Disclaimer(s): Nothing bad, just fluffy singing

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Azul Ashengrotto ═════════════════════════╝

🐙 As Azul wrote a new document, he heard something coming from the Lounge. It couldn't be Jade of Floyd, they were perfectly silent whenever they cleaned up. That and they were feeling ill earlier, probably those damn mushrooms that Jade got and they ate...

🐙 The Housewarden of Octavinelle stood, putting his quill back inside the ink as he walked out to find the location of the melody

🐙 He walked around, looking in every nook-and-cranny he came upon, only to come up empty-handed. This was quite odd, if it was a ghost by chance, what ghost sings? Unless they were a siren, which would be highly unlikely, as their kind was practically a myth for the peaceful mer-people of their time

🐙 Azul finally came upon the main room. He noticed the surroundings, all tables and chairs in place, all other decorations of utensils placed in their respective spots for later that morning when Mostro Lounge opened, but what he noticed first wasn't an object

🐙 He noticed you first

🐙 You stood there, cleaning a nearby table off with a happy tune falling from your lips. It was mesmerizing, he's heard some very talented singers in his years, but nobody matched your vocals, not by a long-shot

🐙 As you swayed around, eyes closed and unknowing to him standing there, he recounted each word you sang and put it into his mind for memories he could look back on happily

🐙 Azul smiled gently and cross his arms, watching him with a happy figure, singing away and with your voice just flowing out like a mermaid's would when singing to their newborn child. Like how his mother used to sing to him whenever he was upset

"I can't promise picket fences. Or sunny afternoons. But, at night when I close my eyes."

🐙 He has heard this song playing on a playlist you had made him. It was full of many romantic, slow, and sweet songs to keep him calm while he worked. And as you had your back to him, he silently walked up behind you and began singing his own verse in the song

"I see us in black and white. Crystal clear on a starlit night. There'll never be another. I promise that I'll love ya."

"I see us in black and white. Crystal clear on a starlit night. In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standin' in your dress. Swear in front of all our friends. There'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life." You sang together.

🐙 As you looked at one another, you wrapped your arms around his neck, making him smile as you finished your duet together...

"And there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life..."

🐙 ...before sealing the song with a loving kiss

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 You hummed as you finished dressing yourself after your shower. Helping out Jamil today was harder than you expected, but you did prevent Kalim from celebrating getting an A on his test, so there's something

🐍 Jamil had finally made sure Kalim was laying down and sleeping when he came to his room. You were staying the night in his, since your dorm, Pomefiore, was currently having some issues with flooding (thanks to Epel running away and crashing into a pipe)

🐍 He had just made it to his door when he heard your voice coming through like a flute. It was gorgeous. He's heard some amazing singers, but nobody could compare to your voice

🐍 It sounded better than he could ever imagine. Of course, you hummed while you worked, but you never have gone full-singer on him before. But, he had to admit, he loved it so much right now

"Broken with bruises, I don't wanna screw this up. And lord knows I'm jealous. Of how she looks at me like that. If only I could see it too."

🐍 He frowned sadly, this song was about somebody feeling like they were nothing compared to how they could be. It reminded him of how he felt about you on the daily. He's caused so many issues, yet you always stayed with him, despite the obvious better choices around you both

🐍 Jamil took a deep breath and walked inside, taking his Scarabia vest off and laying it down as he begun to hum alongside you before lying down. You weren't shocked, you heard his footsteps earlier and kept singing as you put on one of your boyfriend's many hoodies and laid beside him in bed, slowly taking out his braids and massaging his scalp

"Is it a sin? To love someone who loves another man. If it is then I repent. 'Cause I don't know the man that she claims I am. I could never be as good as him. But I love her more than anything. Don't know why she'd ever fall for me. She says that I'm the only one she'll ever love. But when I'm looking into her eyes. I swear that there's a better guy..."

🐍 Looking down at your boyfriend, you smiled, his eyes closed as you leaned down and kissed his forehead before resting your eyes yourself

"I love you so much, Jamil..."

[hollowed-theory-hall]

What are your thoughts on drarry?

spireasalix asked:

Hi! I just found your blog and find your theories really interesting. I don't know if anyone has asked you before, but what do you think of Draco Malfoy? Do you think he would have a chance with Harry? Could they fall in love or there is too much history between them? Let's make Harry/Draco canon! Hahahaha

Hi, thank you so much! 😊

Since it's a ship/character ask I want to preface that everyone can ship what they want and like whatever characters they want and this is my personal highly subjective opinion.

I'll start with my thoughts on Drarry, as I had an arc there, like, back when I just got into the fandom I really liked the concept of Drarry, so I read some Drarry and didn't like most of what I found back then. That dislike kinda colored Drarry and Draco's character as a whole for me, so it was kinda like: "I can see the appeal on paper, but I don't like it". More recently though I read a lot about canon Drarry from @iamnmbr3 and she honestly got me rethinking my opinion on Draco and Drarry.

As I stand on it now, I'm not invested in Drarry, but I see them occasionally on my dash and sometimes I like what I see. It's the: yeah, I can see it happen, but it's not a pairing I'm passionate about.

Now, to @spireasalix more specific questions.

Draco Malfoy is an interesting character in theory but I don't think it comes across in the books as much as it could. Like, in books 1-5, I find him an annoying spoilt little brat. It can be entertaining when he comes on the page, and I know he'd be whining and dramatic and make a scene. And it makes sense Draco is this way, he's an only child of very rich parents who love him, he looks up to his father like Lucius could do no wrong, but he is lonely and attention-seeking. This need for attention is interesting and is part of why he is so obsessed with Harry. It shows he wants approval and is actually quite insecure under all his pride and mean attitude. He was raised to be a blood-supremacist spoilt jerk, and he does a decent job at being a schoolyard bully without crossing any super major lines.

Younger Draco can be a fun character, he's a problem Harry feels comfortable with because he knows how to deal with him, unlike his other problems (of which he has a lot). I think part of why Harry focuses on Draco as much as he does is because Draco is a predictable problem, one Harry feels he has control over how he wants to deal with him. Which is comforting considering how little control he has over literally every other area of his life.

Then in books 6 and 7, that's when Draco starts actually having his character development, and there are interesting things there, or the potential for them. I love what he goes through, becoming a Death eater only to realize, that: no, he can't really do violence. The constant fear for himself and his family, the torture he most likely goes through, being a prisoner in his own home, like, there is so much potential good angst there but I don't feel like the books really take it as far as it can go.

I recently finished my reread of HBP, and Draco in it was having a crap time, truly. He partially brought it on himself, but he really was thrown into the deep end and he is flailing around to keep his head above water regretting ever asking to leave the kiddie pool (because make no mistake, he asked to be in the grown-ups' pool). And you see how he matures there, going from a spoilt brat to a terrified teen. In one summer he went from the top of his own little world to seeing how powerless he actually is. And, like, out of everyone, the person he apparently confides in is Moaning Myrtle, like, idk, I love that, I think this friendship should be mentioned more. Like, Draco is having a crisis over his family, his worldview, his own worth, being a Death Eater and what it means, and his confidant is the ghost of a muggleborn girl who Tom Riddle, his new master, killed. Like, there are some implications.

I find it fascinating Myrtle says this about Draco:

“No,” said Myrtle defiantly, her voice echoing loudly around the old tiled bathroom. “I mean he’s sensitive, people bully him too, and he feels lonely and hasn’t got anybody to talk to, and he’s not afraid to show his feelings and cry!”

(HBP, 462)

That combined with the fact that Draco doesn't ever really try to harm Harry too badly (@iamnmbr3 wrote many great posts about this). Like, at the beginning of HBP, he has Harry petrified and he just breaks his nose. And this is already after he becomes a Death Eater. He also helps Harry multiple times throughout Deathly Hollows, something that places him and his family at risk.

And, yes, he makes some attempts to kill Dumbledore that harm others (the cursed necklace that hurt Katie Bell and the poison Ron drank) but I think the methods he uses are telling. Draco attempts to kill Dumbledore with methods where he himself is far away from the action. You can say it's due to a Slytherin sense of self-preservation, and that's part of it, I'm sure, but I think the main part of it is that Draco is averse to violence. At the end when he was face to face with Dumbledore he couldn't bring himself to cast the curse. Dumbledore was disarmed and surrounded, there was nothing he could've (or would've) done to hurt Draco, but Draco still hesitated. He couldn't kill him even when his own life and his family's were on the line. Harry also talks about how much Draco is likely hurt from having to torture others on Voldemort's orders in Deathly Hollows, and I think Harry is spot on about it.

If we look at the bullying of younger Draco, he doesn't act out violently. He is the cruel words and insults type, and I remember being honestly surprised he physically hit Harry in HBP because it's not the sort of thing Draco does. So, while Draco as schoolyard bully is mean, he practically is never shown to be physically violent, at least not that I remember. He only starts being more of a physical threat in HBP, and in the cases of Ron and Katie, he does so from a distance in a way he isn't directly involved in the violence.

That being said, while what he goes through is interesting and has plenty of potential and I do like his character, I find him kinda annoying. Like, in my very subjective opinion, I find his whining in the early books incredibly annoying and I find him, even in the later books, kinda underwhelming. Like, I want more out of his character, idk. Like, really, all power to you for liking Draco, he just, unfortunately, doesn't make it into my top Harry Potter characters purely because of personal subjective bias.

Like, for all of Draco being a Slytherin from a long line of Slytherins, he doesn't showcase many Slytherin characteristics (yes, that's something I dislike about his character, go figure 🤷‍♀️). Like, Draco isn't cunning, like, at all. He's smart, I'm not saying he isn't, he gets good and even outstanding grades in various school subjects, and he fixes the vanishing cabinet he knows nothing about on his own. He is skilled and talented magically and he can figure out complex magic on his own, but when it comes to long-term planning or general cunning... yeah, I don't think that's part of Draco's arsenal.

He acts out on useful information on the first opportunity he has, with very little thought about timing or how to best use it and very little forethought in general. In 1st year he gets Harry and Co caught outside after curfew but doesn't think his plan through so he too, is caught out after curfew. And sure, he's 11, but 11-year-old Harry wouldn't have made that mistake, I think (neither would Ron or Hermione). In 3rd year, his plan against Buckbeak and Hagrid was laughable and only worked because Lucius could pull it off. I mean, Draco wasn't even doing a good job at faking an injury compared to Harry who could believably pretend to be the Bloody Baron to scare off Peeves at 11, not to mention lying reliably to McGonagall at 12. In GoF he makes these Potter stinks badges, which are magically impressive (considering they still work 3 years later) but are again, an example of Draco acting on something immediately because that's how he tends to operate. Like how he goes straight to Harry every time he finds something in the Daily Prophet to make fun of.

Even if we look at Draco's later plans, like in HBP, he was mostly trying to buy plans rather than think about how to solve his problem. Because Draco knows how to buy his way out of problems, not think his way out. And while all this does make for an interesting trait for him to have in his rule in the story and he has an invisible arc to break away from this thinking pattern and that does lead him to the vanishing cabinet eventually, it does make me like him less. I'm biased, I can't help it.

His ambition is another thing, I don't know if this is an unpopular opinion, but I don't think Draco is particularly ambitious. Like, he wants to make his parents (especially Lucius) proud, he wants people to like him, and he wants to be popular, sure, but he doesn't have any long-term plans or specific goals in mind. He grew up already having everything, so he doesn't really have any ambitions bigger than that. I'm not saying there needs to be, Harry isn't particularly ambitious either, it's just interesting to me that our poster Slytherin in Harry's year isn't that much of a Slytherin at all.

As I mentioned earlier, Draco also seems to be averse to violence and doesn't have as much of a ruthless streak as his house is usually associated with. Draco, at the end of the day, seems to me like a very sheltered kid who idolized war when he heard about it in stories up until he had to actually take part in it. He is one of the softer characters in the books actually, in my opinion.

While I think he definitely values the traits of house Slytherin as he grew up learning to appreciate them, he doesn't actually possess them, at least, not in abundance. Maybe this is an unpopular opinion, but honestly, I think Draco is more of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin considering he is brave (in the last book especially. I want to note he isn't the same brave as Harry. Draco fears a lot more than Harry does, but when push comes to shove, he keeps going despite his fear. He's more similar to Neville in that regard), bold, and definitely has his personal code of honor and chivalry he acts according to, but I digress.

My personal issue with Draco is the main issue I have with Drarry as a ship, because, like, I can't be actively invested in a ship when I find one of the characters annoying. I have a similar stance on Romione as I have on Drarry. I like Romione well enough, I enjoy the fanart of them I see, but I wouldn't actively search for fics of them. Neither would I write fics where they are the main pairing. In Romione's case, I love Ron but find Hermione kinda annoying, I don't hate her, I don't even dislike her, I actually like her, but she annoys me. Draco is the same way, I like him, but he just gets on my nerves sometimes.

To summarise, I see the appeal of Drarry, and I can see how it could work on paper. I don't think Harry and Draco ever truly hated each other in the books, so, yeah, I think they could get together. They could definitely forgive each other everything, hell, the books practically outright say they forgive each other everything in canon. I think you can build a very compelling love story for them, it's just not a story I'm invested in reading/writing mostly because Draco isn't a character that I'm overly invested in.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

if i knew it all then, would i do it again? (b.r.b.)

a/n: this is simply an AU that i've been toying around with for a few months. s/o to @struggling-with-delia for letting me write a whole literary analysis for so that i could get my thoughts straight about this. i don't know if i'll write more to this AU but i would love to hear everyone's thoughts :)

summary: What would have happened if Rebel had left the Navy after her accident?

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: angst, swearing, alcohol, surprisingly no MavDad? Ice lives because this is an AU and what i say goes

word count: 3.9k

“they called me weak, like i’m not just somebody’s daughter” 

He hovers, listening in to a conversation he has no right to. It feels like an invasion of your privacy, listening in like this, in all the worst ways. How the hell is he ever supposed to build a friendship with you if he can’t even get himself to walk away?

“I can’t do this anymore Ice.” You say quietly, his ears straining to even hear the words. 

“Kid-” The admiral is confused, but hidden under his confusion is concern. You don’t give him a chance to give life to that concern, cutting him off. 

“I’m done, Ice. I’m out.”

-

The noise and laughter in the bar must be heard from miles away. The bar is buzzing with customers, all celebrating the miraculous survival of the pilots. Maverick’s planted at the bar, chatting with Penny, Ice keeping a firm hand on his friend’s back. 

The pilots in question have stationed themselves at the pool table, chatting and playing and enjoying the hell out of themselves. 

The drinks have been flowing, the conversation steady, and none of the Daggers can say they’ve felt this at ease in weeks. 

With a month of leave awaiting them, how could they feel any less?

“C’mon, man. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard the rumors about her.” Payback says with a nudge of Omaha’s shoulder. “She was legendary.” 

Omaha shakes his head, taking a sip from his beer bottle. “No, tell me.” 

“The story goes, that there was this incredible pilot, who accomplished the likes of Maverick, by the callsign of Rebel.” 

Coyote perks his head at Payback’s words. 

“But then one day, her and her wingman went down in a highly classified accident over some ocean the Navy wasn’t even supposed to be in. By some miracle, her and her wingman walked away safe and sound. But no one ever saw her again, after that day. No one knows where she is or if she’s dead or alive.”

“She just… disappeared.” Fanboy finished with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“I’ve never bought that story.” Phoenix says with a shake of her head as she passes the pool cue to Bob. “It’s gotta be bullshit.” 

“I’m with Phoenix. It’s not possible.” Halo pipes up from her seat.

Payback nods, mulling over their words. “That’s always the part that gets me. How does a pilot of that caliber and legend just disappear?” 

“Well, when your godfather is the Commander of the Pacific Fleet, pretty easily actually.”

All heads at the pool table turn to see a girl standing just over Fanboy and Payback’s shoulders. She’s adorned in jeans and a tight black top, a leather jacket covering her shoulders. The jacket has patches sewn into the material, not unlike something the group suspects Maverick wears around town on his bike. Her hands are shoved in her jacket, surveying the group. 

“Ain’t no fucking way.” Hangman mutters.

-

The table is silent for a minute before the mustached-man clears his throat. “Rebel.”

Your eyes flicker over to him, looking him up and down. 

“Rooster.” 

Your tone is cool, gaze already moving away from him. 

“There’s no way in hell.” The blond says, eyes swinging between you and your old friend. “No way.” 

Lieutenant Seresin. Callsign Hangman. He brought your Dad home.

Your brain catalogs the pilots as you look around, picking up on clues and pieces on who is who from the stories and profiles Mav and Ice have told you about. 

“She’s real?” One of them says, mouth gaping open. He turns to the taller pilot standing next to him. “Man, I thought that story was made up!” 

Lieutenant Garcia. Callsign Fanboy. 

“Guess not.” The other pilot mutters. 

Lieutenant Fitch. Callsign Payback. 

“I thought that was just a rumor.” Another pilot says, glancing at the female next to him. 

Lieutenant Floyd. Callsign Bob.

“Well, the rumor seems to know Bradshaw.” The girl says with a sharp tone, cutting Bradley with a look that would make even the strongest man whimper. 

Lieutenant Trace. Callsign Phoenix. 

Bradley doesn’t even spare her a glance, unable to tear his gaze away from you. 

“What’s your name?” Bob calls, standing up from his seat. He leans over the pool table, offering you his hand. You take it with a sigh, offering him a small smile as you introduce yourself. 

“Callsign Rebel.” Coyote mutters, finally meeting your gaze. 

“Now don’t tell me the two of you know each other.” Hangman says incredulously, placing his hands on his hips. You let out a little laugh, shaking your head as you let go of Bob’s hand. You step back, putting your hands back in your pockets. 

“Please, don’t call me that. That part of me is dead and long gone.” 

Hangman smacks Coyote’s shoulder, clearly looking for an answer. Coyote sighs. 

“I’m the other part of the legend, her wingman who went down with her that day. The story’s true, what happened. Even more true, that no one ever saw or heard from her again. Even me.” 

You swallow, shoulders heavy with the weight of it all. This is the closest you’d come to Navy personnel outside of your Dad and uncles in almost two years. 

Everything suddenly felt terrifying and too much all at once. 

“How you doing, Coyote?” 

He eyes you. “Been better.” 

You clear your throat, suddenly wishing you were back at the bar with Ice and your Dad. You desperately wished Slider’s plane had landed in time for him to have come over to the pool table with you. You wished you were at home, in bed and under the covers, away from the flashbacks and the reek of burning metal-

“I just wanted to-” You squeeze your eyes shut, shaking your head. “I just wanted to come meet the pilots that have captured my Dad’s attention so wholly.” 

“You knew Cyclone’s daughter?” Hangman demands, eyes swinging back to Coyote. 

You raise an eyebrow. “‘M wearing a leather jacket and you think I’m related to Cyclone? Try again.” 

“Pops doesn’t have a kid.” The blond says with disbelief. 

You nod. “He does. Just me though. You’re Lieutenant Seresin, right? You’re the reason my Dad is home. Thank you for that.” 

“You know who I am?” He asks, disbelief still coloring his tone. 

Of course, of course, you knew Jake. How could you not?

Lieutenant Seresin, who had an ego bigger than the Navy’s yearly budget. 

Hangman, who’d egged Rooster into nearly giving him a black eye. 

Jake, who’d brought them home. 

“Of course I do. I know who all are. My godfather didn’t take picking you all for this mission lightly, you know.” 

“Can’t believe you never said anything.” Coyote mutters. 

“Why?” You challenge, reaching your arms out to lean on the pool table. “You and I were never that particularly close. In fact, I distinctly remember you telling me to shut the fuck up on my first day.” 

Coyote lets out a breath through gritted teeth. “That’s not-”

“Fair? Yeah, neither was the way your old squadron treated me. Don’t talk to me about fair Machado.” You let out a breath, trying to calm your quickly rising anger. “I should get back to my Dad, make sure he’s not hiding any secret injuries. I just wanted to come meet you all, but maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t.” 

You turn, slipping into the crowd before one of the pilots can say another word to you.

-

“Are we gonna ever see your daughter again, Pops?” Hangman asks, toying with one of the model planes.

He lets out a little laugh, shaking his head. “She came and said hi the other night?” 

“Something like that.” Phoenix responds. 

“Did you know?” Bradley asks. “That she was Coyote’s wingman?” 

He sighs, sitting down on the couch in the hanger. “I did.” He says slowly. Coyote glances up at him. “But she wasn’t the one to tell me.” He rubs his hands together as he thinks over his words. “And she’s made it explicitly clear that her life and my career are to remain separate. And that includes any and all things to do with you kids. So to be honest with you Hangman, probably not.” 

“What happened?” Jake says, still fiddling with the toy. “Why did she just leave? Why’d she make the comment about your old squadron?” He asks, turning to Coyote as the last question leaves his mouth. 

Coyote scrunches his nose before tilting his head and looking at Hangman. “They weren’t very nice to her.” 

“Sounded like you weren’t very nice to her.” Payback says, rejoining the group with another round of beers from the kitchen. 

Coyote shrugs, remaining silent. 

“Coyote?” Bradley asks, curiosity coloring his tone. 

Coyote shakes his head, standing up from the arm of the chair he’d been sitting on next to Hangman. “I’ve regretted the way I treated her every day of my life. Can’t say the same about my old team.” 

“Javy-” Hangman calls as Coyote disappears out the door Payback had just come through.

-

“I would really like to talk to you at some point.” 

You jump up, spinning on your feet. “Jesus Christ.” You rush out, sinking on to your bed when you realize it’s just Coyote. “God, I thought you’d all still be in the hangar and I could sneak in here and get my house key. Uncle Slider has our spare.” 

“Ron ‘Slider’ Kerner? Jesus, how many Navy legends do you know?” 

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you slip the key into your purse. “Not as many as you’re probably thinking.” 

It’s quiet for a moment. 

“You know, in another life we were probably really good friends.” 

“In another life, you probably got called back here for this mission with me.” He says quietly. 

“But I didn’t and we’re not.” You say, standing up from your bed. “I gotta go.” 

“Rebel-” 

“Don’t call me that.” You say firmly. “If you’ve got something you want to say, talk that shit out with a therapist. I’m not interested in listening to what you have to say.” 

Coyote stands there for a minute, stunned. 

The old you probably wouldn't have been so harsh. The old you probably would’ve begged for his apology. The old you would’ve given up everything to be his friend.

But you weren’t the old you anymore and you never would be again. 

You walk past him before pausing in your doorway, turning. “I heard what you said out there. How you regretted the way you treated me everyday of your life. And if that’s how you feel, you did a really shit job of showing it.” 

He huffs, eyebrows furrowed together. “Fuck, you want me to get down on my knees and grovel?” 

“Yeah, actually that’d be nice.” 

“Oh my God.” He groans, throwing his hands up in the air. “You’re fucking impossible. You sit here and say that I did a shit job of showing that I was sorry, but what the hell did you want me to do? You left.”

“You could’ve picked up the damn phone for starters. It’s not like you didn’t have my fucking phone number for Christ’s sake. You could have actually picked up the phone and said Hey, I’m sorry, how are you doing?”

He lets out a long breath, shaking his head. “You know what, you weren’t ready.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” 

“You weren’t ready. You weren’t cut out for it. You weren’t ever going to be cut out for this life if that’s all it takes to push you out of the Navy. Good riddance.” 

It’s silent for a moment as you stare him down, your chest suddenly falling rapidly as your anger wraps up into your chest, squeezing around your heart.

“How dare you.”

Your tone is deadly quiet, a tone you’d learned from Ice decades ago, gaze piercing as you watch Coyote flinch back. 

“How dare you.” You say a bit louder this time. “How dare you stand here and say I wasn’t cut out for it. You have no idea what hell the Navy put me through, what I have suffered at the hands of men like you, pilots whose egos are so big that they refuse to let a girl get in their way.” 

It seems like you can’t get enough breath in your lungs as you look at him, the anger overshadowing everything else. 

“I always, always thought better of you Coyote, even up until the very bitter end. But as it turns out, you’re just like them. That’s all you’ll ever be.” 

-

“Whoa, what did that waffle ever do to you?” Ice jokes at your angry stab of the bread, setting his plate down on the counter. “What’s going on, kid? Stop taking it out on your breakfast.” 

“Nothing.” You snap, stabbing at the food again. 

There’s a pause, before the anger that has been swirling in your chest since that day at the hangar pushes the words right out of you. 

“I just don’t get what he sees in those fucking pilots.” 

Despite the fact that you’d had rescheduled (rescheduled because last time Omaha’s car broke down and the time before that Fanboy had the flu and needed chicken noodle soup and the time before that Hangman wanted to go for a ride in the P-51) breakfast plans with your Dad before he had to go into work (because this was the only time he could fit you in), he’d canceled because Bob’s truck wasn’t starting and needed a ride to base. 

Ice sighs, leaning back in his chair. 

“How in the hell have they been here for five fucking minutes and I’m suddenly playing second fiddle? Oh, I know. It’s because Dad’s always loved to get his eyes and hands on a shiny new toy. He’s got his fancy new kids with their fancy new squadron and fancy new promotions. Who the hell needs a failure for a kid when you have twelve golden children?” 

The words taste bitter on your tongue, spitting them out faster than you can stop yourself. 

“Kid, they’ve been here for almost six months. The Dagger squadron isn’t going anywhere. Don’t you think it’s time to, you know, put all of this aside and at least try?” 

“No!” 

Ice sighs again, picking his fork back up. “I miss my goddaughter.” Ice mumbles and based on the subtle wince immediately following them, you suspect Ice hadn’t even meant to speak the words out loud. 

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” You demand, cocking your head. 

“It means that you haven’t been the same since you came home from the Green Vipers.” Ice snaps. “And sometimes I think it would’ve been better for everyone if I had just left you there.” 

You gape at your godfather, tears stinging at your eyes. “You would’ve left me there?” 

“Maybe it would’ve given you a chance to push yourself instead of taking the easy way out.” 

It’s quiet for a minute until you scoff, shaking your head. “I can not believe you’d leave me in a place where they actively tried to have me killed.” You say as Ice’s head flies up from his breakfast. You stand up from your seat, chair scraping across the floor, Ice rising with you. 

“You know, I’m sorry trying to deal with the aftermath of surviving such a traumatic event has been such a burden.” 

-

“Sir?

He groans, reaching up to rub his temple. His goddaughter’s words had left a bad taste in his mouth and the last thing he wanted to deal with was Maverick causing an incident. 

“What is it Jamie?” 

“This file was just dropped off by Captain Peters. You’re going to want to read it, sir.” 

He holds out his hand as his secretary walks into the room, holding the file stamped CLASSIFIED on the front. 

“It’s a harassment report and preliminary investigation from pilot Julie Connors, callsign Ruby.” 

He quirks an eyebrow, taking the file from Jamie. “This feels a little bit below my jurisdiction, Jamie. A harassment report should all be handled by the responding committee.” 

She nods, letting out a breath. “Yeah, Admiral Davis specifically requested that you read this.” 

“Why?” He asks, flipping through the file.

“Your goddaughter is named several times.” 

He freezes, looking back up at his secretary. 

“Sir, they’re investigating Thompson and the Green Vipers for harassment.” 

-

“-sir? Admiral Kazansky?” 

His ears are ringing as he storms into the classroom, everyone turning to face him. His hand lands on the back of Machado’s chair, dangerously close to his neck. 

“Admiral Simpson, I am very sorry to interrupt but there’s an urgent and pressing  matter regarding Lieutenant Commander Machado’s previous assignment that I must speak with him about. Might I borrow him?” 

It’s clear to everyone in the room that Ice isn’t really asking for permission.

“Uh…” Cyclone says, with a blink. “Sure.” 

His hand falls to the back of Coyote’s service khakis. His grip is tight as the kids tumbles with him, desperately trying to keep pace as they walk down the hallway towards his office. 

Once inside, Ice can only look at the kid, the anger rising in him faster than his ability to tamp it down and be professional. 

“You have one chance, Machado, to set the story straight. If you care at all about your career, you will tell me the truth about what they did to my goddaughter.” 

His voice is quiet, but no less deadly, allowing him to see the exact minute Coyote’s mask slips into place. 

The boy’s posture is stiff, unable to meet his eye. 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to, sir.” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“So you have no idea what this harassment report from Lieutenant Connors is about?” 

“Not a clue, sir.” 

He lets out a fake laugh, picking the file up from his desk. “Well let’s see then.” He says, flipping through the file he’d spent all morning poring over, horror filling his gut at every word. 

And he had told her he would’ve left her in this place?

“Ah, yes, here it is. This is a direct quote from Lieutenant Connors: The Andrews twins always spoke proudly of their greatest accomplishment: successfully breaking the pilot known by the callsign Rebel by almost having her and her wingman killed. They forced her out by putting someone else’s life on the line. They got no greater joy out of life than reminiscing on what they had done. That doesn’t ring a bell at all, Lieutenant Commander?” 

Coyote swallows, shoulders stiffening as he talks. 

“With all due respect sir, if your goddaughter couldn’t hang, that’s not really my problem.”

-

There’s a knock on the front door as you rifle through the box, sorting through the old books. 

“It’s open.” You call, pulling the set of Harry Potter books out of the box. The front door opens and then shuts again, the visitor clearly entering the home. 

When had your Dad come into possession of the Harry Potter series?

“Hey.” 

You glance up at the voice, seeing Bradley standing there with his hands shoved in his jean pockets. You sigh, setting the box set down. 

You hadn’t spoken much to Bradley over the last few months, even as much as he’d become part of your family once more. You tolerated him for your Dad but you’d made it explicitly clear where the two of you stood. He’d always respected and maintained that distance, seemingly reciprocating the need for it. 

The two of you had somehow found yourself in no man’s land without ever really meaning to. No way forward, but no way back either. 

“Dad’s not here at the moment, got caught up with something at work. Kinda sounds like your squadron is falling apart.” 

He sighs, rocking back on his feet. “It is… which is why I’m here to talk to you. How’d you know about that?” 

You side-step his question, going back to shuffling papers in the box. “What do you have to talk to me about?” 

“Is it true?” 

You don’t meet his eyes, gaze firmly planted on the copy of Catch-22 in the box. 

“Is what true Bradshaw?” 

“Is what she is alleging in that report true? What they did?” 

“You’d have to ask Machado for the answer on that one, I’m afraid.”

“Is what she alleging they did to you true?” 

You give a half shrug. “So what if it is? Doesn’t change the fact that they won.” 

You hear him squat behind you. “It matters if you left them just for them to do the same thing to somebody else.” 

You huff, standing up from where you’re seated on the floor. You can hear Bradley stand as well behind you. You turn, heading for the kitchen when Bradley speaks again. 

“Ruby deserves better than that.” 

“I deserved better than that!” You shout, turning on your heels. Bradley doesn't flinch, remaining firm. 

It’s silent for a minute as Bradley just watches you. 

“Are you going to tell them? Tell Davis and the committee what they did?” 

You huff out a frustrated laugh. “No. Hell no.” 

“Ruby-”

“Don’t sit here and lecture me about fucking Ruby, Bradshaw. I know all about her.” 

He blinks. “You know Ruby?” 

You sigh, glancing away from him. “I got in a fight with Ice this morning about them, you know? Because he said he would’ve left me there had he known this was going to be how I came back. An hour later, Ruby’s calling me to tell me she’s filed a report and she’s named me to the committee. Ruby’s calling me to compare stories, to see if the ones they told about me were true.” 

You sigh, crossing your arms as tears sting your eyes. You blink them back, unwilling to let yourself cry over them. 

“Ruby is who I would’ve become if I had stayed. And that terrifies me.” You whisper. 

It’s silent for another minute as you continuously blink back the stinging tears. 

“Are you going to talk to the committee?” 

You shake your head. “Given what happened the last time I spoke to one of the Navy’s stupid investigation committees, absolutely not.” 

Bradley quirks an eyebrow. “What happened last time?” 

You shake your head. “Doesn’t matter. I told Ruby she never should’ve filed that report. The Navy’s never gonna fire them and all they’ll do is punish her for speaking up. I know that story all too well.” 

“Coyote’s fate rests on what you tell that committee.” Bradley says, stepping closer. 

“Oh fuck Machado.” 

“Listen-” 

“No, you listen, Bradshaw. I don’t give a shit about what happens to Coyote because he certainly didn’t give a shit about what happened to me.”

“The girl I knew would have stepped up for what was right.” 

“Yeah, and in another life, you and I probably fell in love and got married. In another life, I’m probably fucking best friends with Coyote and have a happy family with Dad and he probably fucking marries Penny, I don’t know. But this is real life. This is our reality. Where I was almost killed by a squadron who believed I was better off dead, where I had a wingman who agreed with them. Where you disappeared for two decades and blamed me for everything that was never my fault. Where I can’t stand to be in the same room as the people who raised me anymore because they refuse to understand the reality we are living in, where the Navy broke me.” 

You let out a bitter laugh, looking at Bradley as you think back over the past decade of your life. “This, this, is the reality we are living in. This isn’t the reality where we all got to become some big ol’ happy family and I’m not the girl you knew anymore. This is it. This is who I am. Wake up.”

-

tagging people who were interested: @cherrycola27 @colourfulsuitwonderland @horseslovers2016

[rowyn-writes]

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Five

Warnings: Self hate, mentions of abusive ex, mentions of a minor character death, fluff

Characters: Reader, Dean, Michael, Jo

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

You had been living with Dean for five weeks now, and everything felt surprisingly normal. You both woke up early in the morning for work, so you got to have breakfast together. You liked having someone to talk to before going to work.

It was five in the morning as you and Dean shuffled around the kitchen in a comfortable silence. You had made some eggs and bacon for the both of you while Dean got ready for work. Since Dean passed the coffee shop to get to work, he would drop you off, and in return, you made him coffee to get him ready for the day. 

"Mornin' sweetheart." Dean grumbles as he comes out of his room, yawning. His hair was still tousled from sleep. You chuckle softly at the sight.

"Morning, Dean. Forget to brush your hair?" You snorted. Dean laughs as he smooths down his hair.

"Maybe I was trying out a new style, Y/n, ever think of that?" He sniffed, pretending to be mad.

"Aw, c'mon now, you never change up your routine, so I find that highly unlikely. And besides, you can't be mad at me forever, I made you breakfast." You set his plate down on the table, pouring a glass of orange juice for him.

"I got damn lucky to have you as a roommate." He sighed happily as he ruffles your hair before sitting down at the table, tucking into his breakfast.

"I could say the same." You smile as you eat with him. Storm was still asleep on the window seal. Despite Dean buying a cat bed for him to get into his good graces, the cat refused to actually sleep in the bed. He just sniffed at it before going back to what he was doing.

Once you and Dean were finished with breakfast, he took the plates and put them in the dishwasher, starting a load. You went and grabbed your apron for work before heading out the door with Dean, sliding into his beautiful Impala. "I hope you know that if I actually still drove, I'd totally wanna take Baby for a joyride." You joked.

Dean laughs softly, his eyes crinkling up at the edges. "You're more than welcome to drive her anytime you need, sweetheart. I won't stop you."

"Oh, um, nah." You shook your head gently. "I don't really drive anymore. I um, I got into a really bad car crash about a year ago and I don't really drive anymore because of it." It was the first time you had really talked about the car crash with anyone other than Jo or Jack.

"I'm sorry to hear about that sweetheart. Was everyone alright?" He frowns, looking over at you.

"Oh, um, yeah, I just had a broken arm. . . The other driver was okay too." 

Dean could tell that you wanted to drop the subject. "So, I was thinking, you don't work tomorrow, right? And you're done with exams?"

"Yeah, why?" You tilt your head curiously.

"Well," Dean said as he pulled into the parking lot of Chuck's. "I was thinking that tonight we go to my favorite bar and have some drinks, my treat. They're having karaoke tonight too, and I think it would be a lot of fun."

You mulled it over for a moment. You didn't drink much, but you thought this would be a good chance to get to know Dean a little better and let loose some. "I think that'd be a lot of fun, actually." You give him a gentle smile. 

"Perfect, I get off work tonight at 5. I'll pick you up and take you home on my lunch break, I don't want you walking home alone or anything." Dean gives you a boyish grin, the one that you had come to adore. 

"Thanks, Dean, you have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness." And it was true. Dean was kind to you when it felt like you hit rock bottom. Being evicted from you apartment was rough, and you never expected him to offer his home up to you. Even though you hadn't known Dean long, you trusted him, and it seems that he trusted you. You hated to think about where you'd be without him right now.

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. I'm just glad I could help you out. I've been where you've been before. My life has never been put together in the slightest, and there was a time when I had no place to go. I really could have used some help, and I want to be that person for you." He said softly, looking over at you.

"Well, I know I'm not much, but I'm here, and I can be the support you need. We can help each other." You offer him a gentle smile.

"I like the sound of that, Y/n, thank you." You lean over and give him a quick hug. 

"I'll see you on your lunch break, then. Let me go make your coffee really quick." You went in and unlocked the doors, making Dean a brown sugar latte and grabbed him a scone before bringing it out to him. "Have a good day at work." I reach through the window and ruffle his hair before heading back inside to tackle the day.

Jo was the next person scheduled to come in, and you hoped it was one of those rare days that she was actually on time. You had talked to her many times before about her punctuality, but it never seemed to stick with her. She was your best friend, and you didn't want to have to reprimand her, but it seemed that it was going to have to come to that. Thankfully, she was on time today, and you didn't have to say anything to her.

"Thank god my car started." She said as she walked in, clocking in on the computer. "I was scared she wasn't gonna crank. I really need a new car."

"Well, you're here, that's all that matters. Today's a Wednesday, so I'm expecting it to be a good day for us. This is usually our dead day, so I think it should be okay with just the two of us until eleven when Maddison comes in."

The day went off without a hitch, the customers were nice, it was a slow day, and everything seemed peaceful. That is, until the end of your shift. Dean was on his lunch break and he was waiting for you to clock out so he could take you home. He didn't mind hanging out in the coffee shop, as he found it rather peaceful. The front door dinged, signaling that there was a customer inside. "Hey, welcome to Chuck's! We'll be right w-" You broke off as you stared up at the man in front of you. Michael. You could feel your heart pounding out your chest as he glared down at you. You hadn't seen him in nearly two months, what made him want to come confront you now?

"We need to talk." He said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was 6'3 and he towered over you. It was something that had always intimidated you, especially when you were together.

"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave." You tried to make your voice sound strong and determined, but it came out as just a small squeak. You hated the affect he had on you. For years he made you feel small, and even after the break up, he could still make you feel that way.

"Oh we have plenty to talk about, Y/n. Like how one day you just changed the locks to the apartment and had all of my stuff sitting out in the hall?"

"And you're just now wanting to talk about this, huh? You had nearly two months to reach out to me and to talk about this, but you picked now as the prime opportunity? When I'm at work?"

"Oh please," He scoffed. "You can hardly call this a job. Besides, I've been busy with other things." Dean's head perked up at the sound of arguing. He looked over at you and Michael. He could clearly tell you were in distress.

"Michael, just fucking leave. You're not welcomed here. Our relationship is over and there's absolutely nothing for us to talk about. You cheated, you were abusive, you were a shitty ass boyfriend. What else do you want me to say? I've listed a billion reasons as to why we broke up and you still can't accept that."

"Don't speak to me like that." He grabbed your wrist. "I guess I better teach you some manners." You try to pull away from his grasp. Before you could even shout for help, a fist connected with Michael's jaw. 

Dean looked pissed as he grabbed Michael by the shirt, slamming him against the wall. "What kind of pathetic coward lays hands on a woman?" He growled as he punched him again. "Come near Y/n ever again, and I swear to God himself, there will not be anything stopping me from beating you within an inch of your sad life. Got it?!"

You had never seen Dean so angry before, let alone get physical with someone. "And what's it to you, huh?! Why the hell do you care for some whore so much? Oh, I get it, you're fucking her, huh?" Michael laughed, throwing his head back.

Dean said nothing in return as he punched him once more before throwing him out to door. "Don't ever come near her again." Dean snarled before going to check on you. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he? I swear to God-"

"Dean. . ." You hugged him tightly. "I'm okay, he didn't hurt me. . . Thank you for sticking up for me." You whisper, tears in your eyes. Maddison and Jo watched as Dean wrapped his arms around you protectively. 

"No one's going to hurt my best girl on my watch, I promise you that." He said lowly, gently rubbing your back. "I'm guessing he's your ex boyfriend?"

"Yeah, he is. . . I thought I was finally free of him, but he keeps popping back up like an infectious disease." You were holding back tears, not wanting to cry in front of Dean.

"C'mon sweetheart, let's get out of here." He wrapped his arm around you and led you out to his car. "Do you need me to stay with you? I can tell Bobby something came up." 

You shook your head gently. "No, that's okay. . . I don't want to impose. I'll be okay until you get off work tonight. . . Honestly, I don't even what to think about what just happened. And it doesn't even surprise me that he came here. I guess I was just hoping he'd forget about me." You ramble on, looking at your hands.

"You wouldn't be imposing, sugar." He said, his voice soft and gentle. "If you need me, I'm here, okay? There's not much goin' on at the shop today, so Bobby can afford to be on his own for the rest of the day."

You felt tears brim your eyes as you kept looking at your hands, refusing to look Dean in the eye. "I-I could use some company. . . If t-that's okay." You whispered quietly. Dean tilts your head up gently with his finger so you would look at him.

"I'll stay with you as long as you need, darlin'." He then surprised you by kissing your head. He was so caring and gentle with you, which was something you weren't used to. He drove back to the house, letting you pick the music for the drive. Once you got back, he called Bobby and explained the situation before following you inside. He grabbed some blankets and popped some popcorn. "So, what movie should we watch? Comedy, rom-com, action?" 

"You really don't have to do this for me, Dean. . ." You felt like a burden. You made Dean call out of work just so he could sit here and watch a movie with you. You were an awful friend and roommate.

"You're right, I don't have to, but I want to. . . You're my best friend, Y/n, I want to make sure that you're okay. You've had a stressful day, and you need to unwind a bit. Plus, work was slow, wasn't much for me to do. I'd much rather sit here with my favorite girl and cheer her up." He sits down beside you, draping his arm on the back of the couch. 

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you let the tears flow. "I-I just want to be rid of him. He never let's me have any peace."

"Shh," Dean whispered softly, running his fingers through your hair. "I'm here sweetheart. . . He won't hurt you as long as I'm around, okay?" He kissed your head again, making you feel comfort. Storm jumped up on the couch, settling himself in your lap, purring softly. "See, darlin'? Even Storm's here to help you." That made the tears stream down your face harder. It felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything that you had held in from the break up came bursting out all at once, despite your attempts at pushing it down. Dean held you in his arms as you cried. "Breathe, Y/n, I need you to breathe for me, okay?" He murmured gently. You tried to breathe, but it just came out as choked sobs. Your body was shaking as you cried. Dean let you know that he was here, and that you were safe. You knew he was right. Being in his arms was the safest place for you. You knew that Dean would never hurt you, and that he would do everything in his power to protect you. 

Once you had calmed down, you found your voice. "Thank you for being here." Your voice was raw and hoarse from crying. Dean didn't mention it, he just smiled softly, kissing your temple.

"Of course, sweetheart. What are friends for?" He continued to run his fingers through your hair, as he could tell that's what was keeping you grounded. "We don't have to go out tonight, we can go some other time, I'm sure that you're tired after the day you've had."

You thought it over for a moment. "Actually, I think I still want to go out tonight. . . I just need to feel normal, and show that what he did doesn't get to me." You state confidently.

Dean grins at your confidence. "That's my girl." He let you get ready for your night out with him. You picked a pair faded ripped jeans from your draw, a black blouse, and a black leather jacket. You combed through your hair, trying to find a style you liked, eventually settling on having it braided. You came out of your room with a smile. Dean let out a low whistle as he saw you.

"You clean up nicely, darlin'." He grins. He was wearing a green flannel over a black shirt that fit him nicely and a pair of faded blue jeans. You couldn't help but smile at the compliment. 

"Thanks, De. Shall we get going?" You grab you wallet as Dean grabs his keys.

"Let's go." He smiles, resting a hand on the small of your back as he leads you out the door. You were very aware of his hand against your back. But you shouldn't be thinking about that. Dean was your friend and roommate. You couldn't risk anything. You slid into the Impala as Dean going into the drivers seat. You grinned as the car roared to life. The car was absolutely gorgeous, and you'd love to have an old car like this. That is, if you still drove. Past pains rear its ugly head into your thoughts, making you think of things you wish you could forget. You push it aside. Tonight was about having fun with your best friend.

You showed the bouncer your ID and you were let into the bar with Dean. It was packed since it was karaoke night. You and Dean slid up to the bar, you ordered your favorite drink and Dean got a whiskey and coke. "So, ya thinking about gettin' up there and singing?" Dean smirked as he looked to you.

"Me? Nah, I can't really sing." You shrugged.

"One, that's bullshit. I hear you singing in the shower all the time and you sound amazing. And two, no one who sings karaoke can sing. I'll do it with you if you sing." He offered you up a smile. You could never resist that boyish smile he had.

"I hate you, I hope you know that." Despite your words, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

"Say what you want sweetheart. But hey, you get to pick the song and I can't complain."

"Oh really?" You smirked. "So if I picked a Taylor Swift song, you wouldn't say anything?"

"Hey, I can get down with TSwizzle, okay?" Dean held up his hands in defense. You couldn't help the laughter that racked through your body. 

"You did not just say TSwizzle-" You continued to laugh, Dean joining in.

"All I'm sayin' is that you can pick whatever song you like."

You went up to the karaoke machine, scrolling through until you found the perfect duet for you two. I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan and Kacey Musgraves. "We're up next." You grin as you pull Dean towards the stage. Dean followed you up on stage, grabbing the mic. "Ready?" Dean nods as the song starts. Despite having never heard the song, he did it justice. You never knew Dean could sing. When you sang your parts together, Dean smiled over at you, his eyes gleaming. Once the song was over, he helped you down from the stage.

"Y/n, you were amazing! I knew you had a good voice, but damn, that was beautiful." He praised you, gently patting your shoulder.

"Me? Dean, I had no idea you could sing like that. You were fantastic!" You gently punch his shoulder.

Dean chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck as the tip of his ears turn pink. "Thank you, sweetheart, I appreciate it." He grinned.

"Aaand I think that some of the girls over there found your singing attractive." You chuckled as you looked over to a group of girls that were eyeballing Dean. "You should go talk to them!" You encouraged.

"Nah," He shook his head. "This night is about you and me, and celebrating our friendship." He gave you a smile. You couldn't help the small butterflies you felt in your stomach. Instead of going off with a girl, he wanted to spend time with you. But at the same time, you felt bad, because you felt like you were keeping him from having a fun time.

You felt like screaming at yourself, because you always did this. Every time there was something good going in your life, you found a way to get in your head and overthink things. You wished you could turn those voices in your head off. Sometimes those voices got particularly loud, especially in times like these. You tried to push them away and have a good time with Dean, but you couldn't help it.

"You okay, Y/n? You got really quiet all of a sudden." Dean said softly. Damnit, he knew you too well.

"Oh, yeah, it's um, it's just been a long day, y'know?" You cleared your throat, looking up at him.

"We can head home if you'd like?" He suggested, tilting his head to the side.

"No no, I'd hate to be a bother. You look like you're having so much fun, and I don't want to ruin that." You spoke softly.

"Sweetheart, if you're tired or you just don't feel up to being here anymore, you can tell me. I won't be upset. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or feel like you have to stay for my sake. Besides, I don't care where we are, as long as we're together, I'm happy to spend time with you."

You gave him a soft smile. "I just don't think I'm in the right headspace right now." You sighed. "It's just been a long day with a lot going on. . . I promise to make it up to you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/n, we can just spend some time together and watch a movie if you'd like?"

"I'd really like that, De. . . Thank you." You whispered gently. Dean ruffled your hair and went to pay for the tab. You rode home in a comfortable silence as Dean hummed along to the radio. You were stuck in your own head again, per usual. You were leaned against the window, feeling the cool glass on your cheek.

"Are you sure everything's alright, sweetheart?" He asked, looking over to you. "You've been awfully quiet."

"I dunno, I'm just really struggling mentally today. After everything that happened this afternoon, I just feel so. . . empty?"

"I get it darlin'. What do you need? Do you need some time by yourself, or do you wanna curl up on the couch with me and watch some Dr. Sexy MD?" He questioned, his voice gentle.

"I think that spending some time with you could help. . ." You couldn't help but smile. You felt safe with Dean, and even though you were having a tough time, you knew that everything was going to be okay as long as you were with him.

[eldritch-spouse]

I hope you see the Pin, cause I'm invested.

If we were trapped in lust, how about we become an Oiran to survive? 

Quasi Oiran, so to speak, since I wouldn't be on Oiran traditionally but moreso in spirit. 

Now a few things to note about Oirans (the Apothecary Diaries did a very good job at explaining this, so I'll use that): Unlike regular Yujyos (prostitutes) who need to find a customer every night, the best of them rarely ever take clients. The less an Oiran (a high-ranking yujyo) works, the higher her perceived value will be. All Yujyo are taught a bit about poetry and dancing at a young age; those without potential are immediately put to night service work after their debut, while those with potential continue with their education, spending their time with customers merely drinking tea. As their conventional skills and wisdom increase, so does their price, and they will accept requests even more rarely. Eventually, it comes to a cost a year's worth of salary to just share nothing but a cup of tea with such an Orian. Among them are even a few who would never come to know a customer's touch up until the day they are bought. They're priced so highly because they're an untouchable flower; once plucked, they lose half their value.

Some stuff would probably need to be tweaked in order for this to work, but here is a route I think could be taken.

So you land in lust! (Preferably as a virgin cause that can be used later.) Like a rational person, you start hauling ass as soon as you can gather yourself cause you don't want to be snu-snu-ed to death. Hopefully you can stumble across a nice enough high-ranker who would be willing to help you out—for a price, of course. Now, this could depend on the high-ranker because if they don't immediately take our virginity, we could sell it for a high price because in the Pinnie universe, a human's virginity is like ambrosia, but I don't really see that happening since who would pass up the opportunity, you know? But anyway, in return for their protection, we could make a deal to bring in three times the amount they bring in a year. There are many human fuckers to pick and choose from, so it wouldn't be too hard to get the bag. Before we make our debut, we should train in the arts like Yujyo do. We could use dance or singing for normal customers, and for customers with a taste for finer things, we could use poetry, calligraphy (you see what I did there 😏) and aktpainting, which is the painting of nude people. But of course I'll have sex with my customers so they keep coming back, I'll just try to engage with them in thay way sparingly so that they can become addicted. After we make our debut, hopefully we can make enough money to hire some wrath demon bodyguards, and then we can truly make our way up the ranks to become an Oiran because we may have our pimp, but I don't think they can hold our hand and protect us all the time. If a customer is being too pushy, we can just call in our guards to have their ass booted 🤷🏽‍♀️. It's very likely that our guards and pimp will become obsessed with us but if we were smart enough to make it thus far it will be no trouble to play demon wrangler. And if by a slim pubic hair of a chance we can get an angel to keep all of them in check, we would be set for life.

So that's it!

The reason I think it would be a good idea to become an Oiran is because, let's be honest, in lust where it's all about fucking, we wouldn't be too popular to make someone believe we're trying to out-whore them but popular enough to get that sweet, sweet money. Another reason why I thought it could work is because Concubi place an importance on virginity. I'm not sure if it applies to how many times you slept with someone, but by being a 'flower' and a human at the same time it could attract a lot of customers, so why not use it?

(I hope all of this made sense since I'm not a native speaker)

[It sort of made sense. I don't know much about the nuance of these cultures, so I'm not going to dip into that side too much.]

Making it in Lust is hard, especially as a virgin. Even if someone with a modicum of power takes enough pity on you to offer you a leg up, there's always the risk of it going downhill. It depends on your luck, cleverness and, oftentimes, ruthlessness.

Someone similar to an oiran, in Lust, would have a difficult time.

Even if there are many concubi (and other types of fiends/non-demonic inhabitants) who get into the mysticism and attributed rarity of a female companion like that, getting off endlessly on that temptation to leap across the table while the two of you have a conversation over tea... There are also many crowds eager to debase and "corrupt" you, to turn you into a senseless whore like themselves.

You're never truly safe either way. Some of your regulars may become eerily attached and possessive of you, maybe even threatening to toss you out to the demons who give you leery stares as you walk because you refuse to see them more often or to touch them.

Keep in mind that blueballing a concubus isn't really a good idea, unless they make it clear they're into that. Because otherwise, you're holding a steak to a lion's mouth and constantly yanking it away before they can snag it. Eventually, they'll get tired and bite some of your fingers off along with it.

Your life in Lust will be one led with extreme caution.

[itsmymeaningoflife]

Crowley and Take Me To Church- not a full essay but just a dump of my thoughts

• Starting off by saying that this song is an explicit criticism of how the church / Christianity has treated gay people / the LGBT+ community and how easily LGBT+ people within the church can lose their religion / faith because of this

•I think it makes sense for people to associate this song with Aziraphel for the obvious reason of he is an Angel and part of the church / Christianity. And then with the added layer of him being gay (using the term “gay” loosely, but as a fandom you guys know what I mean) and questioning some of the teachings and interpretations of the religion he upholds. The lyrics allows the association of Aziraphel with the lyricism about heaven, worship, God and the Church

• But this is CROWLEY’S song

• (All Demons are disgraced Angels) It’s almost as if he was cast out of heaven for his ‘sin’ of being gay

• and that he still holds onto his faith in God and the religion as an institution

• But it’s the CHURCH and GOD that has turned their backs on HIM, not the other way round.

• It’s as if Crowley is not only thinking about Aziraphel while listening to this song, but also contemplating what his existence could have been if he was an Angel like Aziraphel and Heaven didn’t fully turn their backs on him

•It’s as if Crowley is clinging to his previous faith, begging for a second chance.

“My lover's got humor

She's the giggle at a funeral

Knows everybody's disapproval

I should've worshiped her sooner”

-Aziraphel has just enough mischief in him to not fully fit in and be a model Angel. And Aziraphels existence in the church, doing heavens biddings, in itself is a rebellion.

“If the Heavens ever did speak

She's the last true mouthpiece”

-the word and morals of Aziraphel is the only thing keeping Crowley from renouncing “goodness” altogether. If Aziraphel can still think so highly of Heaven while living his existence as a “gay” Angel and not be punished for it, then these are the teachings of heaven that Crowley can see himself living by

““We were born sick", you heard them say it”

- Sick = gay / queer in this context. Both Crowley and Aziraphel were born this way. There is nothing they can do about it, yet Crowley feels that he is the only one being punished for his “sins”

“She tells me "Worship in the bedroom"

- While both Crowley and Aziraphel are both eccentric, Crowley is loudly eccentric - with his loud cars and music- while Aziraphel is quieter and softer. Aziraphel “got away” with his queerness in heaven because he wasn’t loud about it and kept it to himself, unlike Crowley.

“The only Heaven I'll be sent to

Is when I'm alone with you”

-Crowley won’t make it back to heaven, he’s too far gone for that, but having Aziraphel by his side for eternity, is better than that

“Take me to church

I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

Offer me that deathless death

Good God, let me give you my life”

-Crowley knows the teachings of heaven are hollow and just as manipulative as the teachings of hell, but if it meant that he could be seen as good and free of sin, he would grovel at the chance to regain his faith. Maybe because if he was an Angel, Aziraphel would be more willing to be in a full committed partnership with him

“Something meaty for the main course

That's a fine looking high horse

What you got in the stable?

We've a lot of starving faithful

That looks tasty

That looks plenty

This is hungry work”

-Crowley is so so so angry at the hypocrisy of heaven

- The demons were cast aside and left to live in squalor while the angels live a life of righteousness. Crowley has to work twice as hard for his good deeds to even count, just because he is a demon

“There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin”

- actually foaming at the mouth over this lyric

- Crowley sees nothing wrong with his feelings and partnership with Aziraphel. Their love for each other is so pure and gentle that he can’t comprehend how ‘this’ is what Heaven renounced him for

[sissytrapjamie]

What I like about your blog is that you seem to understand something other blogs like this don't. I've seen so many of them write "I can't be a woman because I'm a big strong muscular man". But that's not true, is it? You at least seem to understand that you're far weaker than a man. Of course, since REAL women are as strong as men, you couldn't fit in with them either. You are still a man, but you're not a "real" man. And to your credit, I think you've started to realize that. You're not an alpha, hell, you're not even a beta. You're below all of them.

And that's okay! You don't have to be strong or manly. You can still be a guy and be cute and weak and pathetic. Like your cock, your symbol of manliness. It's not large or powerful, it it? It's been all shriveled up by those estrogen pills. And that's fine! It's cute, even! Believe me, there's nothing cuter than a mtf boy trying to thrust into someone, trying to take back the role they gave up, but realizing that it's no use. Your cock is too small and broken, those pills won't even let it get hard anymore, so you're stuck being on the bottom forever.

All I'm saying is, I think that "girl" phase was good for you. It showed you what you really are. Not a girl, but a pathetic submissive bitch of a man. Isn't it great to be free like this? Unlike real women, you actually ARE weaker than men, so you can just empty your head and do whatever they tell you. Take out your impotent flaccid little cock, jerk it as best you can, and let yourself fall deeper into submission while thinking about real men's cocks. Making them feel good is all you're good for.

(Sorry if this is too far, or like, not far enough. I'm MtF myself, but this is a new fetish for me so I'm not sure how far people generally push it)

I guess I had my chance before all this to bulk up and become any kind of man I wanted, but I wasted it chasing silly, impossible dreams and now I'm stuck with the physique of a teenager 10 years later. I can't help thinking of myself as a boy, but I can't help questioning if that's accurate or if I'm just trying to soften the blow for myself that I'm still a man. I love that I'm clearly starting to develop a reputation for having a tiny, pathetic manhood >_<. It could've grown long and thick, but I wasted it. I don't know how to top, I never learned, I wasted the chance. Cute is about the only conpliment I ever get now, and I've pretty much forgotten to feel belittled by it and I just accept it. I'm spineless enough to do anything anyone tells me, and just naturally place anyone else's pleasure above my own. I'm actually forbidden from masturbation until further notice and I don't know when I'll cum again, it could be months. I hope I never forget that I'm a mere servant, eye candy and a sex object <3.

(Nah, you're good, like really good. It's highly individual and I can take almost anything. Thank you for making it that much harder to resist playing with myself <3)

[sloanedestler]

Hey, Sloane!

For the fic ask game: 16, 22, 39! <3

Thank you so much for the ask!

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

I have three Phantom fic ideas that I've pretty much got all planned out, in addition to the WIPs I already have started. And I probably have about three more Guitarspear ideas, although those are far less planned out. So one Guitarspear idea I have is a sort of Hades and Persephone AU, although it's mostly vibes at this point!

22. Are there certain types of writing you won't do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

I'm not one to never say never on something, but I have to say I'm pretty firmly in the third person past tense camp as far as writing. As far as genre, I probably wouldn't ever do horror, because I highly doubt I could pull it off, and it's not a huge interest of mine normally

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

I only have one Guitarspear WIP, so I'll share a bit from that. This is still in the setup stage of the fic, but here is a bit of Adam's internal thoughts after he goes to the hotel after waking up in Hell as a sinner:

"Giving a curt nod in response to her words, Adam waited for the door to close behind her before allowing himself to collapse on the bed, staring blindly at the ceiling above him, unable to think about anything but how much pain Lute must be in right now, both physically and emotionally. The fact that there was no way for him to comfort her was unbearable — not that she would find much comfort in his presence now, only more pain and horror.

Draping an arm over his eyes, he tried to distract himself before he ended up vomiting again, forcing himself to think about the hotel instead, wondering if there was any chance it could actually work. Unfortunately, his gut told him it was impossible — he had seen no evidence in all his years in Heaven that might hint at any possible success, but it didn’t really matter at this point.

No matter how unlikely, it was the only avenue he could see to any possible path to a reunion with Lute, so he had to try it. He loved her more than he would have ever thought possible at one point in his life — there was nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant he might see her again."

[alj4890]

OK, so I decided to send some Tobias writers a Jesse GIF and ask them to write a little fic based on it. Feel free to play along if you like (or delete - no pressure!)

Okay 😂 Anyone who knows me on here knows I can NEVER resist a picture/gif prompt. This one you sent me @jerzwriter is not only perfect but also has made me think of so many different fic ideas. From the fluffy sweet to the angsty, I think I'll go with one somewhere in the middle 😉 So while I'm stalled on my OH series and all the others 😬, this at least got the inspiration going again.

@jerzwriter @hopelessromantic1352 @choicesficwriterscreations @trappedinfanfiction @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @kyra75 @coffeeheartaddict2

Masterlist

What Might Have Been

"Hey? Do you hear that?"

Tobias opened his eyes. He blinked at the darkness while a feminine form curled against his side. Though the previous night was foggy from overindulging in both top shelf whiskey and then the actions he'd gotten up to with the woman in his arms, he knew without looking that the hair that tickled his chin was a deep, rich red in color.

Her soft curves nestled up against his body brought back flashes of heated kisses and clothes being thrown about his townhouse.

His mind then slowly registered the sound of someone knocking at his front door.

One quick look at the nightstand clock revealed that it was a little after four in the morning. He couldn't think of anyone who would come to his home at this hour, especially one who would persistently keep knocking.

"Wait here." He whispered.

Getting up, he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and softly padded down the stairs. Stumbling over his discarded shoes and shirt at the foot of the stairs, he peeked out the window to see just who was determined to wake him up at such an ungodly hour.

His heart dropped at the sight of the woman at his door.

Swallowing, he turned the door handle. Seeing her standing at his threshold caused the previous night's events to come flooding over him.

*****************

Donahue's, mere hours ago...

"Come on!" Chris playfully shoved Tobias. "One more round."

Tobias chuckled as he refilled both their glasses with whiskey.

"Alright Chris," he smiled at her, "but this is the last round. Some of us don't want to fight a massive hangover in the morning."

She snorted in her laughter. Her gray green eyes sparkled as she looked at him with mock impatience. He couldn't think of anyone more adorable than her when slightly tipsy.

"Maybe you'll get lucky." She teased. "I might say something I haven't done that you haven't either."

"Uh huh." He rolled his eyes. "Given my age and my history, that seems highly unlikely."

Tobias unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. After agreeing to play this Never Have I Ever game with her, he'd drunk more than he had in a very, very long time. He thought the game was asinine at best but he could never refuse a chance to spend time with Chris.

She'd claimed this would be a more fun way for them to get to know one another. He'd been satisfied with their typical nights of sharing stories and yet, he loved seeing her playful/never willing to lose side show up at random times.

"Never have I ever..." Chris began.

She tapped her fingers on the bar. Her lips puckered with eyes narrowed in thought. He snorted softly to see her trying so hard to think of something that he probably had done at some point in his life.

She huffed with irritation when she came up blank with something to trap him in.

"Give up?" He taunted.

"No!" She exclaimed, unable to stop smiling at him. "I'm merely stalled."

"Thank God." He pushed his drink away. "Now can we hang out like normal people?"

"For now." She took a long sip of her drink. "But I will find something to win this game."

He winked at her. "I have no doubt that you will, Chris. I've learned to never underestimate that mind of yours."

Chris beamed at him for that compliment.

He made himself tear his eyes off her face. It was getting harder and harder for him to simply be her coworker turned friend. His flirtatious nature was dying to use everything within him to win her heart.

Chris was an attraction he didn't want to keep fighting against. It'd been about two years now since he'd joined Edenbrook's, famed diagnostics team and that was two years too long of holding back his ever growing feelings for the tall red head.

He knew why he kept holding back. One glance over to the opposite side of the bar revealed the man who had been in the very situation Tobias found himself in. From the bits and pieces both Ethan and Chris had revealed in his time at Edenbrook, Tobias knew the danger of falling for someone you worked closely with on a daily basis.

Unlike Ethan though, Tobias wasn't hesitant to actually be with Chris because of work. His was a worry more so in losing what they already had between them. Given his track record with women, he knew Chris could never be a simple notch on the old belt.

She was something infinitely more.

Eyeing the glasses, he picked his up, took a large gulp, and decided there was no time like the present to say what needed to be said.

"Don't look now," Chris whispered, "but someone has their eye on you."

Tobias looked around until he made eye contact with a woman with long, red hair. Her gaze was fixated upon him and a sultry smile played about her lips.

Chris's smile dimmed once he refocused on her. "Go on. I understand."

"Nah. I'm good." He set his glass down.

"Come on." Chris's laughter lacked its earlier joy. "Even I know that woman's a sure thing."

"I'm not interested in her." He folded his arms on the bar, angling his body towards Chris. "And I thought of a Never Have I Ever."

"Not interested?!" Chris narrowed her eyes in concern then felt his forehead. "Hmm. No fever."

"Hah, hah." He nudged her glass towards her. "Are we playing or what, Valentine?"

Chris hesitated, glancing back at the woman he was turning down.

"Okay. Hit me with what you got."

Tobias picked up his glass. His eyes lowered to the amber liquid swirling around and around while he drummed up the courage.

"Never have I ever," he took a deep breath, "admitted to the woman sitting next to me how much I want her."

Chris's glass landed on the table with an audible thud.

"That's not..." she blinked back a sudden rush of tears, "...Tobias, that's not funny."

"It wasn't meant to be." He reached for her hand. "I'm serious, Chris. I've wanted to tell you for a while now, but given your on and off again history with Ethan, I thought the timing might not be right."

Her stunned silence encouraged him to continue.

"I'm tired of waiting for the right moment, so this is it. I want to be with you."

Chris bit down on her bottom lip. Her eyes searched his for the truth.

"You sure it isn't the whiskey making you think like this?" She prodded. "Because if you're looking for a one night stand, that woman who's been checking you out all night should be the one you use this line on, not me."

A couple of tears spilled out. She quickly dabbed them away with her fingertips.

"I'm tired of not knowing what men want from the beginning. And," she took a deep breath, "I want to be someone's only significant other for a change."

"That's what I want." He gripped her hand. "I want you and me to be together, as a couple."

Chris glanced over her shoulder at the man who had entangled her heart from the moment she met him.

"I need to go talk to Ethan."

Tobias felt his heart drop. He couldn't believe that this was the outcome of his confessing his feelings for Chris.

His fingers clinched around hers before slowly slipping away.

"Wait here." Chris told him, sliding off her barstool.

"Sure." He mumbled.

Tobias downed the rest of his drink, then finished off Chris's.

He watched Chris whisper to Ethan. The two of them headed outside to the back patio to talk. He refused to sit and wait on her returning to tell him she preferred Ethan over him. Why should he make himself even more miserable?

He pushed away from the bar and encountered the red head who'd been eyeing him all night.

"Hi." She cooed, smiling up at him.

His eyes drifted along her striking features. Though she was pale and had red hair like Chris, her eyes were a warm brown and she was a good deal shorter than the one who'd just broken his heart.

But...she was interested in him.

"I hope you weren't leaving without saying hello." She teased.

"No." He forced himself to smile at her. "I was instead going to see if you wanted to get out of here."

Looping her arm through his, she tugged him out the door.

*******************

Tobias's home...

"Chris." Tobias rubbed his hands over his eyes, hoping this wasn't real.

He'd been so certain he'd brought her home when he first woke up.

"You, Dr. Carrick, do not wait well." Chris teased as she brushed past him. "I'm sorry it took so long with Ethan. We had more to discuss than I thought when I told him about us."

She took her coat off and hung it up on her way to sit down on his couch.

"You told him what exactly?" Tobias glanced up the stairs at his open bedroom door and silently prayed the woman in his bed didn't come down to investigate.

"I thought it only fair to tell him we are now a couple." Chris explained. "I never was really certain what he considered me as, so I wasn't sure if our discussion would be more of a breakup or a rehash that Ethan and I never really got the timing right."

"Oh." Tobias sat down beside her. "Are you okay?"

"I am now." She snuggled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Once I realized you'd left, it took me forever to find a taxi."

"I..." his heart stopped when he heard the familiar creak of his fourth stair.

"Hey." The woman he'd brought home said timidly. "I uh, I think I should get out of here."

Chris whipped around, eyes wide, at the sight of the person who'd been at the bar.

The other red head gave a quick, apologetic wave then darted out his front door.

Tobias tried to keep Chris in his arms.

She shoved him away, scrambling to her feet.

"Chris!" He chased her into his entry hall. "I thought you were choosing Ethan! I didn't know--"

"Why in the hell would I tell you to wait on me if I was choosing him?!" She jerked her coat on. "I can't believe that I was stupid enough to actually have thought someone like you would want what I wanted."

"I do!" He shut his door when she wrenched it open. "Please, just--"

She pushed him away and ran out his door.

"CHRIS!" He yelled out, chasing her down the block. "PLEASE, DON'T--"

**************

"Tobias!"

He jerked awake, gasping for air as if he'd been drowning.

He reached over and flipped the lamp on, heart pounding in fear of the woman he'd see in bed with him.

"Hey," Chris wrapped her arms around him, softly kissing him. "It's okay."

He hugged her close, burying his head against her neck.

"No more thirty-six hour shifts for you." She teased, easing back some.

He gently cupped her face. His attention drifted from Chris to the platinum wedding band glistening in the lamp light that resided on his ring finger.

"Bad dream?" She caressed his cheek.

"The worst." He settled back against the pillows, pulling her within his arms.

"Want to talk about it?" She asked.

"No." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Let's talk about something happy."

"Like what?" Chris laid down next to him.

"Tell me our story." He said softly.

"Our story?" Her lips curved as she snuggled closer. "Okay. How far back are we talking?"

"All the way." He slipped his arm around her to tuck her more against his side.

"Once upon a time," she began. "A young doctor--"

"Exceptionally beautiful doctor." He corrected.

"A young, exceptionally beautiful doctor decided to have breakfast at a cafe with a friend. She saw a man--"

"Devastatingly handsome man." Tobias corrected once more.

"I was talking about the man Aurora and I helped." She poked him in the ribs.

"The devastatingly handsome man approached you afterwards." He continued.

Chris propped herself up on his chest. "Am I telling this or not?"

Tobias began to smile over the memory. "I asked you out right then and there."

"You did." She conceded. "And since you were cute, I said, yes."

"I fell for you right then." He murmured, exhaustion begining to take its toll.

"I fell for you too." She pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "And so the couple dated. The devastatingly handsome man turned out to be a brilliant doctor who saved the exceptionally beautiful doctor's life."

"They married." He yawned, eyes closing as peace fell upon him once more.

"And lived happily ever after." Chris whispered.

Tobias's slow breaths allowed her a chance to relax once more beside him. Hugging him close, she fell into a deep sleep.

[mcflymemes]

THE HANGOVER PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the 2009 film

it says here we should work in teams.

why don't we remember a goddamn thing from last night?

you're in for a real treat today.

i see guys like you in here every fucking day.

you found the car?

i just wish your friends were as mature as you.

i'm thinking about getting my bartender's license.

you're such a bad person.

you're actually gonna wear that, or are you just fucking with me?

by the way, we're all gonna die.

at least our trip wasn't a total loss.

hey, what's that on your arm?

would you shut up and drive before any of these nerds asks me another question?

this does not seem fair.

do i have any volunteers?

watch it, pervert!

that's not a purse. that's a satchel!

we had a great fucking time.

you're not really wearing that, are you?

we all do dumb shit when we're all fucked up.

why are you peppering the steak?

no chance. cash only.

what the fuck happened last night?

am i missing a tooth?

who does shit like that?

we're not even going to be in the room.

you just have to get to know them better.

this is my favorite part coming up now.

we don't want to call attention to ourselves.

you guys ready to let the dogs out?

it's no big deal.

we call this place "loserville."

you cool with that?

it's where i keep all my things.

trust me, it's not worth the fight.

your language is offensive.

don't let the beard fool you. he's a child.

what're you talking about?

indiana jones wears one.

you are a fucking moron.

you're an idiot.

where the hell are you? i'm freaking out.

let's go, handsome.

i don't think you should be doing too much gambling tonight.

it hurts too much.

i'm not cool with that.

now, it's real simple.

whatever happens tonight, i will never, ever, ever speak a word of it.

listen... uh. we fucked up.

are you sure you're qualified to be taking care of the baby?

who said anything about gambling?

pull yourself together, bro.

suck my dick.

all you got to do is point, aim, and shoot.

why would you go to las vegas?

you don't know for sure?

things got out of control.

i should have been a fucking cop.

seriously. i don't care what happens. i don't care if we kill someone.

i feel weird having to ask you twice.

can i ask you another question?

it's at the corner of get a map and fuck off.

you can do this. just focus.

that's not what you do.

i'm pretty sure that's illegal.

we're getting married in five hours.

if it's what i think it is, it's a big fucking mistake.

i can't afford to lose somebody close to me again.

this isn't the real caesar's palace is it?

i keep forgetting about the goddamn tiger.

it's not gambling when you know you're gonna win.

it's not illegal.

whose fucking baby is that?

you heard me!

i'm on your side!

yeah... that's not gonna happen.

i'm sick of doing what you want me to do all the time.

i shouldn't be here.

where'd you get that cop car from?

boy, you've got a sweet ride there.

don't listen to this maniac.

we're shit out of luck.

how's my hair?

it was a real pleasure meeting you.

what if he got out?

you are literally too stupid to insult.

there's a phone in your room.

oh, how cute.

do me a favor. don't text me. it's gay.

whatever this is ain't working for me.

you might not know this, but i consider myself a bit of a loner.

wait a second. could it be?

i stand corrected.

are you nuts?

i don't know you. you do not exist.

would you please put some pants on?

i hate godzilla! i hate him too!

that was once, and i was out of line.

this isn't your fault.

i'll get you some pants.

remember, what happens in vegas stays in vegas.

right in the nuts!

don't touch it. don't even look at it.

i say we delete it right now.

did you have to park so close?

i met you like four times.

that was beautiful! well done!

i'll hit an old man in public.

i want to find out how i went to the hospital.

we're going to be okay.

that's highly unlikely.

[princesscolumbia]

Double Isekai - Chapter 9

So here we are at the end of my backlog. It was nice to be able to post once a day and not have to stress over jumping straight back into it, but I knew that wasn't gonna finish LLW ch. 14 anywhere near the time my backlog was gone. It did, however, firm up my desire to actually get a backlog going and eliminate that stress-point from my life.

Summary:

Ranma gets the chance to talk to someone who isn't directly impacted by the isekai and knew her both before and after. She gets some advice that she probably should have received in her previous life.

Notes:

And here we have the first canonical events that are directly impacted by the new timeline.

Preview below the cut:

The visit to Dr. Tofu's clinic went about as well as they could have expected, given the man's general open-mindedness about things involving magic and spiritual. It helped that the man could read qi auras; he'd described what he saw with Ranma like blending flavors of ice cream, which both isekai'd individuals smiled at.

"I must say, as much trauma as I'm seeing in your auras, you're remarkably well adjusted even after...well, all this." The doctor gestured up and down at the pair of them, sitting side by side on his exam table.

"Thank you, Doctor," "Thanks, Doc," they said at the same time. Ranma rolled her eyes and Nodoka giggled.

"Fascinating," he murmured under his breath, "If it's alright with you two, I'd like to set up ongoing monitoring appointments. Even in your other world the concept of the 'isekai' was fictional, so there wouldn't be any medical knowledge for managing cases like yours. While it's unlikely that I'll ever get a chance to publish anything on the issue, it would be good to at least make sure everything is working out okay for you two long-term."

Nodoka smiled warmly at the man, If I swung that way...ah well, he'll make someone a good husband soon enough, I'm sure. "That sounds lovely, and I'd be interested in reading your findings and discussing your conclusions."

"If you're sure you can keep up..." he returned her smile.

Ranma snorted, "Doc, c'mon. We taught ourselves data analytics and auto repair. Might need a reference or five, but we aint slouches."

Like many aspects of the conversation so far, Tofu showed all the signs of being pleasantly surprised by the new fold in the origami puzzle that was his most complex patient. "Fascinating...was the intelligence always there but expressed in purely martial ways or was your previous incarnation for this universe a savant and this more broad-spectrum intelligence a new addition from the merging?"

Ranma shrugged, "Think it was prolly the first one. Pops did his level best t'beat anything that wasn't The Art outa me. Kinda made me stupid in all sorts of ways. Aint sayin' I know for sure, but I did teach myself the 'roasting chestnuts' thing using adaptive methods thanks to an artificially imposed temporary disability, an' that was a LONG time before the isekai."

The conversation lasted a bit longer, Doctor Tofu completing the same physical that he did for the Tendo girls and providing a referral for a gynecologist he'd already 'felt out' about the Jusenkyo issue with a promise to have another ready if they should prove less receptive than he'd expected.

"I'll see what I can do about a counselor or therapist as well," he said after Nodoka brought up the concern, "That will be...harder, most likely. Not only is that a bit outside my specialty, without the ability to see qi and already having a history with either of you like I did, any therapist is going to be inherently skeptical."

Nodoka nodded, "As can be expected, this is a highly unusual case, to say the least." She paused visibly, as though bracing herself for a challenge, "I...don't want you to do anything that might violate your ethical obligations or result in a loss of your license, but about Ranma's male form..."

Tofu leaned back, a clearly intelligent mind piecing together the request before she could even make it but allowing his patient to ask the question anyway. Such manners...maybe some Jusenkyo water? No, don't be silly. You're a horny old woman but that's no reason to go looking for people to make dysphoric. Out loud, she said, "Might it be possible to see about transitioning her other body?" she gestured to her daughter, who was clearly doing her best to not get her hopes up too much.

Tofu appeared to ponder the question, "I'll admit I don't believe anyone has asked for such a thing in the annals of Jusenkyo." He stood and walked over to the counter he'd placed Ranma's file on earlier and flipped it open, jotting a few notes down, "I've started a correspondence with Cologne's tribe as they're the nearest group of people to the springs and so have the most experience with them." He finished his note and closed the file, facing them directly, "Most 'curse victims' opt to simply have the curse locked."

Nodoka grimaced and Ranma squirmed. The younger isekai'd woman piped in, "I aint sure that's a good idea, doc. It's...well, it's like noise-cancelling headphones if I'm thinkin' correctly."

"'Noise-cancelling...'?" parroted the doctor.

Nodoka chuckled, "I believe they're working on industrial applications for the technology now and it won't be on the consumer market for a decade or two yet, but they use the principal of a cancelled waveform to block sound." She traced a sine wave in the air in front of her, "Sound is just pressure waves in the air, so one simply sets up a microphone to capture the sound, a computer processes the opposite waveform, then broadcasts that back in the direction of the audio source," she traced an opposite sine wave going the other direction, "And the two waveforms cancel each other out."

"Problem is, doc, it's technically just more sound, only ya can't hear it," added Ranma. "And dependin' on how loud the original sound is, yer slamming a LOT of dee-bees into your ears."

Tofu gave her a confused smile, "'dee-bees'?"

Ranma smirked, "Decibels, or dBs." Tofu nodded with a quiet 'ah!' as Ranma continued, holding up a hand and punching it lightly, "It's like yer hammerin' yer eardrums twice as hard but ya can't hear it." She dropped her hands into her lap, "Aint interested in getting' magical tinnitus or whatever it'd be called."

He chuckled at her metaphor, "That's not a bad comparison, though I'll want to confer with some experts to see if that's actually a concern. If it is, then we'll definitely want to look into alternatives. As for hormone replacement therapy," he sounded hesitant, and his next words made it clear why, "We'll need to try some things, and I'll need to confer with some colleagues with discrete inquiries. I'm not an endocrinologist and I'm not equipped to do the hormonal testing here, so we'll need to bring in some others to see what can be done." He adjusted his glasses thoughtfully, "This could be an interesting, if extremely niche article in a journal somewhere." He chuckled as he put a hand on his hip and scratched the back of his head, "I'll probably need to find a way to introduce the Amazon's magic and traditional medicine doctors to some open minded colleagues," he focused on Ranma, "Would you be willing to demonstrate your curse to a select few people? If your descriptions of dysphoria are anything to go by, it might be uncomfortable and I wouldn't want you to subject yourself to that..."

Ranma smirked, "I aint sayin' no, but I can talk to Shampoo t'see if she'd demonstrate first. I'm betting a girl turning into a cat'd be enough of a metaphorical gut-punch to convince just about anyone of how real magic is."

Tofu could only chuckle at this proposal, "Now, if you'll excuse us, Nodoka. We're at the part of the appointment where I talk to Ranma about things teenagers don't want their parents to hear about."

(Read the whole thing on AO3)

[kzele]

Voice of Reason

In which Spider-Man arrives earlier than canon to the Gangland fight and subsequently changes EVERYTHING.

It wasn't hard for Peter to find the crime lords, as shooting everything in sight and leaving trails of destruction don't exactly lend themselves to subtlety. Then again, he thought as he swung closer to the source of the carnage, Ock really isn't one for being low-key when he's not planning from afar. Engaging the deranged doctor in person was risky, but manageable considering how easily he loses his cool when faced with quips and insults.

Tombstone would be harder to deal with, given his hand-to-hand skills, cool-headed demeanor, and problematic good public image. With any luck, Peter mused, Tombstone'll be knocked out or something before I have to deal with him. (But knowing the nature of his luck means that that chance is as slim as Rhino knowing Shakespeare by heart. Possible, but highly unlikely.)

And lastly, there was Silvermane. Other than being old, having Silver Sable as his right hand, and being the previous ruler of New York's underworld before Tombstone, Peter really had almost no info to go on here. He'd have to hope for the best and prep for the worst in dealing with-

"We were ALL betrayed! By Hammerhead."

What? What's going on? Peter's thoughts are interrupted by Tombstone's baritone voice as he swings his way to a stop behind a column.

An unknown man shouts out a response, "Hammerhead is a stooge! He doesn't blink without orders."

"Indeed. Your denial lacks sincerity," Ock's more familiar tone oozes in agreement and Peter was left feeling more confused than ever. It was just the three crime lords in the room and yet. . .

Something was off here. So, naturally, it was time for Spider-Man to do what Spider-Man does best: poke his nose in something that didn't really concern him.

"Pardon me for interrupting," all three heads turned in his direction, "but maybe you should hear him out before continuing your semi-public murderfest. I mean, I literally just got here and even I can tell something doesn't add up."

"Arachnid," Doctor Octopus's teeth were bared and his arms raised, "You will-"

"Be happy to punch your ticket at a later time. For now, though, I want to figure out why Tombstone would throw someone who's apparently very loyal to his organization under the bus to people who know of the guy's loyalty."

The dude in some sort of armor, who Peter can safely bet is Silvermane at this point, gives out a snort in response.

"This is the guy that's been giving you both so much trouble? Doesn't look like much to me, considering all he's done so far is talk."

Peter ignores the taunt. If he wants to underestimate him, then that'll make things a little easier in the long run when they actually do fight. Apparently, the other two thought the same as they also made no rebuttal.

Spider-Man turns his gaze towards the calculating gaze of the albino crime lord, "So. Hammy turned traitor. How do you know?"

(POV Change)

Tombstone glared suspiciously at his savior. The vigilante had the habit of being somewhat unpredictable, but this scenario was unexpected even by his standards.

Time to cut to the chase and ask a very important question.

"Why do you care? I would have thought you'd gladly let us tear each other apart. Or at least wait until we're weakened enough to pick us all off."

Spider-Man tilted his head and answered, "What, aside from blowing holes in classy buildings and harming the people here? Something's been bugging me about this whole fight for some reason and if clearing that up means a chance at avoiding a huge, drawn-out battle where there's a chance more people are gonna get hurt, I'll take it. Now, will you three stooges calm down and think for a minute about who's really arranging the set-up here? Why would Tombstone attend a conference with the ones that he's trying to off? Isn't Hammerhead his underling or something? Why not send him in his place?"

Tombstone couldn't believe it. First, Hammerhead betrays him after years of loyal service and now Spider-Man is speaking reason to the other crime lords in his defense? The world really has gone insane, he thought.

Silvermane was unconvinced, "Hammerhead knocked out my daughter and took out Octopus's lieutenant, too! If he wasn't loyal to Tombstone, why go to all that trouble to that and throw his boss a weapon, too?"

"I agree. Your conclusion is erroneous; Hammerhead's devotion is no secret here," Ock sneered.

Spider-Man hummed and asked them, "So then what? Who took him out afterwards?"

The two blinked in confusion and looked at each other.

The armor-clad crime boss spoke mockingly, "We never said that he was taken out. Were you even listening?"

The vigilante straightened up when hearing this and gave his own rhetorical question, "But if Hammerhead is so loyal and he wasn't taken out, why isn't he fighting alongside Tombstone right now? It's two against one against his boss, but he hasn't shown up yet. Shouldn't he have shown up by now?"

Dead silence.

Tombstone could see the realization hit both of their faces as they looked up at the hole and into the room where they last saw his (now former) employee. Doctor Octopus snarled, the man's ego clearly taking a hit over being tricked, and began making his way back up to the second floor.

Silvermane followed shortly and yelled after him, "Hey! You better not leave me outta this, Octopus! I want that flat-topped traitor to be eating his own plating after I rip it from HIS SKULL!"

Spider-Man cringed, "Annnd they're off. I should probably follow them to minimize any damage."

"Probably," the albino remarked dryly.

A sigh and, "Figures."

Just as soon as the younger man prepared to swing after the two murderous crime lords, Tombstone laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you. You may not have done it for my sake, but I need to ask one more favor of you tonight."

Now it was the webslinger's turn to be suspicious, "That being?"

"That you help me find the real orchestrator of these events. You see, I also have a hunch. I believe your assessment is half-right, Hammerhead could very well be a pawn still even after betraying me. Whether he knows it or not however, is something less clear."

"It'll be harder to figure that out if he's dead and I doubt those two'll wait to ask. They've got their revenge goggles on right now, so tag along and explain on the way. Assuming it isn't too late yet."

His unlikely ally proceeds to hold out a hand for him to secure a grip.

"Very well," Tombstone says as he takes the hand offered.

Perhaps down the line this could lead to the more. . .mutually beneficial partnership he had hoped would happen between them when they had originally met. At least allying with Spider-Man guaranteed that he'd survive even if betrayed. Either way, it didn't hurt to side with the only voice of reason Tombstone had found on this day.

[storiesbyjes2g]

@utamuse replied to your post “Wasted Time”:

@storiesbyjes2g interesting. What about the mom does she step in?

​Figured I'd answer this in public in case anyone else is wondering. I'll go back to your first question in more detail and then answer this one.

Since I kicked the Franklins out of the rotation (lol), we don't have the pleasure of seeing the family dynamics live. But the good part about that (for me, at least) is I get to weave my headcanon into the story whenever I get a chance, and that is what you're seeing. But this isn't the first time we've seen this behavior from Bryce. Whenever Noemi and Cy together, they have more than likely alluded to Bryce and Kenya being very soft parents. I know Noemi has said, "your parents aren't gonna do anything" a few times.

Bryce isn't a distant parent. He's just very hands-off and sees himself more as an advisor. He is trying something different from the way he grew up which was poor in a single parent household with a mother who more than likely believed in the laying on of hands. (see what I did there? lol) Unlike Kameron, Bryce knew his father but he was not involved in his life. So being absent in his own children's lives is definitely not something he is interested in perpetuating. He figures if he can provide a stable environment that allows them to flourish, keep them happy (mostly by spoiling them with material things), make sure they are highly educated, and make punishment the last resort instead of the go to, the children will grow up to be well-adjusted, well-equipped sims on their way to taking over the world...or whatever. He is there to guide when they go off course. If they aren't going off course, he does not feel the need to interfere. You can kinda see evidence in that with how he is with Rodney, his little cousin. If you recall, Bryce had taken him under his wing. He was a father figure to him his whole life since he and Francine remained close over the years. When Rodney graduated high school, Bryce invited him into his home, paid for his education, and did whatever he could to set him up nice in life. But we all know how Rodney is...was. You may also recall Bryce only really stepped in when Francine asked him too, then he would come in all hard like that was his plan all along lol. I guess you could say Bryce has "live and let live" philosophy.

Kenya does not share Bryce's logic and would prefer more structure and discipline. Bryce and Kenya agree on everything except how to raise the children, and that is the only time they fight. He fights dirty too. A while ago I had this scene in my head (this was before the girls were born) where she had spanked one of the boys and Bryce lost his mind. He threatened her, saying if she ever put her hands on them, he'll divorce her and she'll never see them again. Needless, she never did that again. She has tried to suggest various methods to keep the kids in line over the years but is always met with opposition. Eventually she stopped trying and feels like her hands are tied. She loves Bryce and the lifestyle he provides and loves her children even more. She won't risk losing them.

I hope that helps!

[raw-law]

Hey, umm.. Although this may not be the perfect place to ask this but

How does one deal with a toxic household?

L:

well, i'd say it highly depends on what's going on in the household specifically. not every issue is the same and solutions have to be tailored to the household specifically in order to get the best outcome. and even then, the best outcome doesn't necessarily mean it'd be a good outcome..

i am far from a licensed therapist, and i don't plan on becoming one anytime soon, but i'll try to list some general advice that i've observed from other households:

if conversations between family members are generally toxic, don't entertain them. the more they're engaged with, the more the conversation will escalate. you might have to push your own beliefs aside in order to do this, but it's a much easier route in the long run.

toxic households are a waiting game. the only way to win is by surviving for as long as possible until you can leave. that also means focusing on yourself so that you have a game plan for when you're able to be on your own. focus on your future. don't get sucked into the present that they're trying to push onto you.

if your physical health is at risk, consider finding an authority figure to confide in first. telling them the situation will give them a chance to help you without escalating the situation and putting you in greater danger.

this is definitely a hard question to answer. i can only give what i think would help generally. overall, just stay safe and don't pull anything that puts you in more risk. i wish you the best, autumn.

Light:

Well. Like Ryuzaki said, it's really dependent on the situation at hand; each case can differ greatly.

I have absolutely no experience with this, and I suggest you seek help from a licensed professional, but I'll offer some advice that I've observed to work in most general cases:

- Create boundaries between you and your family. This is somewhat on a case-by-case basis, but it can help in situations where your family members may not fully be aware of what they're doing. This can (possibly) limit their behaviour and make it more difficult for them to get a handle on you.

- If you still can't move out yet, limit contact with them as much as humanly possible. Still be civil and polite to them, though. Spend as little time in your house as possible. It would be good if you found some hobbies to while away the time with, I guess.

- If you're in any sort of physical danger, seek help from an authority figure as soon as possible.

- The moment you can get away, move out of the house. In my opinion, it's unlikely they'll ever change, and it's best to get away from these kinds of people as fast as you can.

Please keep in mind that this is just general advice that seems to be helpful for some of the families I've seen and heard about. Feel free to follow this as you deem fit; I must stress that this is definitely not a definitive or professional guide on how to deal with those kinds of people.

With that being said, I wish you the best, Autumn.