#and the fact that she never got around to reading it
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floraisunwell · 2 days ago
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Promise | s.r
who? post-prison!reid x ex gf reader (she's a nurse)
category: angst (bold move ig)
summary: Spencer left you 5 months ago without a word for undisclosed reasons but he comes teary eyed to your door after seeing a girl that looks a little too much like you.
based on (very loosely lol): promise by laufey. the fic does not follow the events of the song at all but i love the "if it weren't for the sight of a boy who looked just like you standing out on Melrose avenue" part right at the end so it's all on that line.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: my first fic ahhhhhhh, i'm so nervous and happy rn, this is my baby and ik there's a lot of space for improvement but i'm proud of my writing, this comunnity is full of amazing people and if it wasn't such a lovely space i would have never posted this. shoutout to @lilacsandlavenderhaze for being the first to hear my idea and telling me i should go ahead and write it; @spencersbabymama for telling me to cut the bullshit and self deprecation and post this; and to @esote-rika for being my first readerrrr. love y'all <3
dividers by @aquazero
English is not my first language pls tell me about any spelling and grammatical mistakes. enjoyy!
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The air was cold and crisp, a light drizzle could be felt dampening the streets – a scene typical for this time of the year in Washington. Spencer had gone out with the team to get some drinks after a hard but successful case, he was happy, of course, the fact that they had caught the killer pleased him but everything inside the building felt overwhelming: the voices, and the drunk conversations, all the limbs touching a little too much, the overly loud music. He was out of it and to be honest he had been out of it for quite some time now, actually some months, everyone noticed how the breakup made him feel.
Funny, because he was the one to leave.
After you came back from a long shift at the hospital excited to cuddle with the love of your life (or so you thought) but the only remnant of him you found was a sticky note placed on the cover of a book you were reading at the time:
"I'm sorry, I can't do this anymore"
That was all he said before destroying everything you two had built over 3 years, 3 years of love, pain, and learning, 3 years of giving everything for each other, destroyed in less than 24 hours like nothing.
He hadn't been the same for a long time, though—not since prison. You didn't blame him; you tried to understand him, give him space, time, and everything one could need to heal. He was not the same, of course. You weren't expecting the same Spencer to come back, sure, but you also were not expecting whoever he had become: some cold and distant version of the person you used to know.
Your relationship with Spencer is divided into two eras: Before Millburn and After Millburn.
Before Millburn, you guys were somewhat happy. Both of you were overworked and stressed but happy. You would tell him about your work, and he would tell you about his. In the rare times, he got a day off work, he would hug you whenever he could, like he was making sure you wouldn't slip away.
After Millburn, you didn't talk much, not unless it was necessary, he didn't hug you a lot anymore, in fact, the last time he hugged you was when you went to pick him up at the correctional facility, all the emotions running high, you remember thinking he looked and smelled different, you didn't know he would be so different when you wrapped him in your arms, placed a kiss on his shoulder and whispered that everything would be fine. But everything was not fine. It was all so not fine and everyone around you two could tell. Yet you could have never imagined that Spencer, the man who made the hopeless romantic in you thrive would leave in such a disheartening way.
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Back at O’Keeffe’s, the team was still at it. The count of how many rounds of drinks Rossi had paid long lost, Emily and JJ leaning suspiciously close to each other, Rossi nursing some unnecessarily extravagant drink, Garcia and Morgan somewhere on the dance floor and Hotch nowhere to be seen. Spencer had gone outside, hoping the sensory overload would ease with the fresh air, it did slightly but the agglomerate of people was no better than the one inside, so many people, reeking of alcohol, walking like zombies, and saying nonsensical things. As he was standing near the entrance, hands stuffed into his pockets, the soft rain dampening his hair, Spencer let his mind wander and it ended up where it always does: him contemplating if leaving was the right decision.
He was so deep in this thought that didn't even notice the man approaching until it happened- a hard shoulder bump that took him away from his thoughts.
"Sorry dude" the man muttered not even caring to glance back as he moved past. Spencer blinked, shocked as he watched the man move swiftly toward a small group of people nearby. A group that included you.
His heart jumped to his mouth. No - not you. But she looked like you, uncannily so. She even acted like you, the way she threw her back when she laughed or how she scrunched her nose in an attempt to put her sliding glasses in place - he could've sworn it was you.
For a fraction of a minute, he actually thought it was you. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step forward before reality sank in and he retreated. It wasn't you; it was never you.
But as he watched her wrapping her arms around the man's neck, as his hands almost automatically moved to her waist, and they both smiled like idiots in love. He couldn't help but feel like he had been stabbed and the knife was being twisted inside him. Was this some type of fucked up joke by the universe? "This could be you, bad thing you lost her" The thing is, he didn't lose you- he gave up on you which was worse because maybe if he had stayed, and tried a little harder, you would still be together.
He staggered back a few steps, and if he hadn't reached the wall, he would've fallen considering he already felt his knees buckle as all the bottled-up emotions from the past five months came crashing onto him; he was overwhelmed by his own feelings, eyes blurry with tears as a lump formed in his throat and the weight on his chest got heavier.
Blindly, almost unconsciously, he reached for his phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. His thumb hovered above your name in the contacts list. The message he typed was brief:
"Are you home?"
He didn't get a reply, he wasn't waiting for one. The moment he hit send his legs were already moving, practically running towards the street to hail a cab. He gave the driver your address, and it came out of his mouth easily, as if he had never stopped saying it.
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You were in the shower when his message came through, you didn't pay the loud notification much attention, not even caring to glance at the device when you heard the familiar ding. You prioritized the small occasions you got to take care of yourself when your job is to take care of others.
Now freshly showered and in the kitchen making tea- the next step on your little routine- you hear a knock on the door, a distinct knock, a knock you could never forget, not even a billion years from now. Your heart stopped for a moment, heartbeat pounding in your ears, you didn't quite register you were moving towards the door until it was open and he was standing there, his brown eyes open wide once he registered your presence, reacting as though you opening the door was the last thing he expected. You just stood there for a few seconds, staring at each other until Spencer wrapped you in his arms like he used to, his nostrils flooding with the smell of your shampoo and body wash, smells he recognized all too well, smells that felt like home.
You pushed him away, shattering the brief feeling of happiness he had started to feel.
"What are you doing here?" You asked almost a little too loud in an attempt to hide the hurt in your voice
"I miss you" he replied eyes searching for yours.
You stood there, arms folded, trying to hide how weak those words made you feel. He had no right to miss you, not after leaving the way he did.
Why should I care? You thought to yourself. He made it clear that he didn’t care about you, but you cared, you cared so deeply that it made your heart ache.
You were not going to let him in.
"You can't just stop talking to me and then come here like nothing happened, Spence." You couldn't help using the nickname, your voice falsely steady, trying to hide the pain.
"I know, I just-can I come in?" No reply "Please"
You hesitated, gripping the door handle tighter as a tornado of emotions swirled on your chest. Anger. Hurt. Loneliness. You wanted to slam the door in his face, make him feel a small fraction of what you felt over the past 5 months. But buried beneath all these harsh feelings, there was something softer, something you felt ashamed to acknowledge: the echo of all the nights you stayed up worrying about him and what could happen in his work, all the mornings you woke up without the smell of coffee lingering through the apartment.
You let him in.
You tried to convince yourself that letting him in was about answers- you deserved an explanation, some sort of closure at least. But as you stepped aside and watched him walk past you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.
Because no matter how much he’d hurt you, part of you still longed for the man he used to be.
“This doesn’t change anything.” You muttered, as much to yourself as to him. He gave a slight nod in reply, eyes watering. Damn him and his big brown eyes.
 As you were turning around after closing the door behind you, he captured you in a hug again and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him too.
Somehow, he ended up asleep in your bed and as you gaze at his peaceful resting face, your mind tells you to wake him up, tell him to go home and never come back, tell him that he doesn't get to leave and reappear whenever it suits him, tell him that he can fuck off for breaking your heart like that. Yet, you don't do any of that, because your heart tells you not to.
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tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always deeply appreciated
@angellic4l it's finally here bestieee!
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luv-beam · 11 hours ago
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HI TARA!!! my thoughts while reading are under the cut :'))) but i gotta say that i fall in love w ur writing every time i read something from u:
• i would like to start off w the fact that u set the scene so incredibly well, like im in awe and envy at this beautiful scene ur painting for us 😭 not to mention that it all flows really well too; just a strong opening paragraph
• awwwh PLS THE BIG BROTHER LITTLE SISTER DYNAMIC!!! when the little sis thinks the absolute world of her big bro :'))) and when she's even more mad than he is LMAO the TOAD LINE??? damn seokmin i was not aware of ur game
• lowkey i would have folded that fast too if duke lee seokmin of lancaster played along and kissed my hand
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• this starting line ^ crazy good... like i'd like to sear this into my mind so i never forget it?? the social szn unfolds like a delicate fan??? adding another layer to the tapestry of ur life??? lee seokmin????
• HE HAS AN UNCANNY ABILITY TO ELEVATE THE ORDINARY UGHHHHH WHAAAAT A LINE i love that so, so much and it's so true as well
• awwwh yn and seokhao's goodbyes are so sweet :'')))) im so glad they all hold so much affection for one another
• "your penchant for wool is far more than my eyes could bear" im cryingksnfkdnjf seokmin sulking over the wool while he's away,, sometimes i like to imagine him as a damsel draping himself out of the window sill of a tower
• i love how yn describes herself feeling empty while hes away like heh... i know something u dont... heh :))))) and crocheting? me too!!! so cute that she made him smth
• TARA U R A MASTER AT IMAGERY!! the opening lines of age 15 are mwah chefs kiss like if i could draw/paint, i would literally turn this fic into a graphic novel for u
• tulip... brb while i burst into tears
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• started grinning like an idiot while reading this ^ i can see his playful melodrama and the smile on his face,,, im so down bad like i would fold like a lawn chair if we played around like this irl (i say as a grown ass woman)
• oh how i do love the classic brushing of the limbs that gets the mcs blushing like hell... also love what u did there w the planting seeds in ur mind to decode later while they're literally planting flowers... i see u tara u genius
• oh wow the total 180 w the reveal of the duke's death (also seokmin addressing her as my dearest tulip TT) — thinking of seokmin entering the social szn as a recently-made duke and all the girls hounding after him in his fresh grief......
• this section (seok and hao just got back after the death reveal) is short but so bittersweet. like when u give seok the swords from the flower bed and he just kind of chuckles like yes... days gone by huh... UGH
• it breaks my heart to know that seokhao now have their dead fathers as something in common 😭😭😭 its sweet tho to know they're all looking out for each other. im w yn tho, i hope hers and haos relationship isnt negatively affected by this :'))
• THE RETURN OF THE TAPESTRY METAPHOR
• okay i have to confess something... this is my second time reading thru... and so im reading the part where minghao and yn talk in the garden and he's warning her of the whispers springing up abt her and seok and im like... freaking out bc i KNOW WHAT HAPPENS 😭 IM GNAWING MY FIST LIKE IK THAT HAO'D CONCERN IS SINCERE AND IM JUST SJFNKENFKFJF THIS SCENE HOLDS SO MUCH MORE WEIGHT DURING A REREAD (why i love comparing my thoughts btwn a first and second read tho, like u see things /differently/)
• i love the teasing and sweet assurances in the letters 😭 like they're so genuine and cute (rip minghao)
• AHHHHH THE SMOKING SCENE FROM SZN ONEEEE i like this change of dynamic tho instead of being btwn siblings, it's now btwn two love interests friends
• WE CANT ALWAYS HAVE WHAT OUR HEARTS DESIRE???? WHILE LOOKING AT US LIKE THAT LEE SEOKMIN????????? HHEHDJDJFJFJKFKFK
• sure sure fencing BUT YEARNING TO FIND LOVE?? BUT MY DEAR SIR?? YOUR GRACE, YOUR LOVE IS RIGHT NEXT TO U
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• THE LONGING AND ASPECT OF THE FORBIDDEN MAKES THE SMALL DISTANCE BTWN U YAWN LIKE A CHASM AHHHH THIS PASSAGE!!!! like oof... i love angst and yearning like this, where im screaming at my phone screen to just kiss her already (knowing the... perilous journey ahead... heh...)
• friend.... FRIEND???? brb gonna go waltz into oncoming traffic
• oh the way this ends 😭😭😭 like my heart is being squeezed,,, the way he whispers tulip and the roots of ur love for him take hold UGGGHH!!! I CANT DO THIS
i will have to endure for another day tho and i will return for chapter two tmrw! i loved this even more than the first time i read it (and i loved it a lot then too)!! i was really able to sit w ur words this time, and i do have to say tara that u have such a talent for imagery, like omg this was so beautiful TT but thank u for writing this!! hope ur having a lovely day/night and i'll be back o7 💖
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The Somerset Affair | Chapter 1: Whispers in the Garden
pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.2k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, eventual smut, more to be added a/n: CHAPTER 1 IS FINALLY HEREEEE // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys this could not have happened without you // 2nd chapter will be up soon!!!
summary: lee seokmin is a scoundrel for having beaten your brother at fencing. or... is he?
comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here!
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Age 8
Mayfair is alive today. The Somerset estate hums with energy, a ripple of excitement passing through the gathered crowd, their eyes all fixed on the fencing match taking place in the wide, manicured garden. The afternoon sun casts a golden haze over the scene, warming the air and wrapping everything in a soft, honeyed glow. Laughter and chatter float like music across the grounds, underscored by the occasional ring of steel clashing against steel. The sweet fragrance of roses drifts on the light breeze, mingling with the fresh scent of cut grass. You sit near the front, your small hands gripping the edge of your chair, bouncing with excitement as you watch your older brother, Minghao, spar against a boy you've never seen before.
This new boy stands tall, his dark hair tousled in the breeze, and a sharp determination shines in his eyes. The way he moves—it’s confident, with an energy that seems far beyond his years. Your brother, usually so self-assured, falters as the boy steps onto the mat. A flicker of unease passes through you, twisting in your stomach. You can feel the tension, see it in the way Minghao adjusts his grip on his sword. The match begins, and every time the swords collide, the sound reverberates through your chest. Your heart sinks a little more with each point your brother loses, and soon, the inevitable happens—the newcomer disarms Minghao with a flourish so smooth it draws gasps and murmurs from the audience.
"Such skill!" someone whispers, while others erupt in applause, their cheers filling the air. But you remain still, arms crossed tightly over your chest, brows drawn into a deep frown. How dare this boy defeat your brother? And so effortlessly! You want to scowl, to hold on to your anger, but the sound of the crowd’s cheers washes over you, making your resentment grow.
Seokmin—that’s his name, you overhear—steps forward, offering Minghao a hand, his smile wide and bright like the afternoon sun. "A splendid match, my lord," he says, his voice rich and full of youthful pride. "I must confess, I didn’t expect to come away unscathed!"
You narrow your eyes, watching as your brother, ever gracious, accepts the handshake. There's a mixture of admiration and annoyance in his expression, a good-natured acknowledgment of defeat. They exchange lighthearted jests, their laughter mixing with the lingering applause. But you? You're fuming. This boy, with his easy smile and seemingly endless charm, had just bested your brother, and you feel a burning need to dislike him for it.
Then, as if sensing your discontent, Seokmin turns to you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Ah, you must be Lord Minghao’s sister?” he says, his grin widening into something playful, teasing. “Goodness, you make him look like a toad by comparison!”
Your mouth drops open in shock, a wave of indignation rushing through you. How dare he say such a thing? And worse—how could your brother laugh?  "I beg your pardon?" you snap, standing as tall as your small frame will allow, arms crossing even tighter across your chest.
"Oh, I mean no offense, miss," Seokmin chuckles, clapping Minghao on the shoulder. "I jest, of course! Merely saying that you’re far lovelier than your brother—though, admittedly, it’s not a particularly high bar."
Despite yourself, your scowl begins to soften. There’s something about the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, the lightness in his voice. It’s hard to stay angry when he looks at you like that, as if daring you to join in on the joke.
“Mama says men who try to charm without revealing their titles aren’t to be trusted,” you counter, lifting your chin with defiant pride. The quip comes out sharper than intended, but you’re determined not to let him get the better of you.
Minghao gasps, hands raised in mock horror. “Sister, truly, must you always speak so boldly?” He turns to Seokmin with an exaggerated sigh. “Please Seokmin, do forgive her. I assure you, turning eight has done little to improve her temperament.”
“You’re only two years older than me, brother!” you huff, your voice a touch more indignant. Before you can continue, though, Seokmin drops into a low, dramatic bow, the movement exaggerated and theatrical.
“The fault is entirely mine, my lady,” he says in mock seriousness, rising and extending his hand toward you. “Lord Lee Seokmin, future Duke of Lancaster. At your service.”
Two years of etiquette lessons flood your mind, and with a sudden burst of excitement, you place your small hand in his. Seokmin bows once more, this time dropping a playful kiss on your knuckles as you curtsy. You can hear Minghao’s exasperated sigh as he rolls his eyes, but you ignore him, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
Maybe Seokmin isn't such a scoundrel after all.
As the day wears on, you find yourself watching Seokmin from the corner of your eye. Despite your earlier indignation, there’s something undeniably captivating about him. You notice the way he treats everyone with kindness, far beyond what’s expected from someone his age. When a younger child stumbles near the fencing ring, it’s Seokmin who rushes to their side, kneeling in the dirt, his voice gentle as he asks, "Are you alright?" He helps the child up, brushing off their clothes with such care, you can’t help but be touched. "Fear not," he says, a smile returning to his face, "you’re not a toad—you’re a knight in training!"
The sight makes your heart soften further. How could someone so infuriating also be so kind? The lines of irritation you had drawn between you and Seokmin begin to blur, shifting into something more like curiosity.
As the sun sinks low, casting a warm amber glow over the estate, you find yourself gravitating closer to where Seokmin and Minghao stand, their voices rising and falling in animated conversation about fencing techniques. Seokmin’s laughter, bright and carefree, fills the air like music, and before you know it, you’re smiling too; there’s something undeniably magnetic about him.
Despite your best efforts, you can no longer deny the strange fluttering in your chest—a curiosity, perhaps even fascination, that you hadn’t expected. Maybe, just maybe, Seokmin isn’t such a scoundrel after all.
The days of the social season unfold like a delicate fan, each gathering adding another layer to the tapestry of your life, and with every event, Seokmin becomes a constant presence. He is no longer just an occasional guest—he’s a breath of fresh air, his laughter ringing through the halls of your family’s estate, turning even the dullest moments into something lively and bright.
The lively soirées your parents host become a stage for his effortless charm. Ladies in the latest fashions exchange flirtatious glances in his direction, while gentlemen engage in animated debates about politics and sport, the buzz of conversation always punctuated by Seokmin’s easy laughter. His presence transforms these gatherings, turning what once felt like routine social maneuvering into vibrant affairs filled with warmth and genuine joy.
Whether he’s lending a hand to your mother in the garden, his sleeves rolled up and face relaxed in concentration, or sparring with your brother in a friendly match, Seokmin has this uncanny ability to elevate the ordinary. What might be a simple afternoon stroll or an idle conversation becomes a moment of significance when he’s around. Sun-drenched afternoons spent wandering the estate take on a new glow, each moment painted with the sound of his voice, the infectious energy he brings.
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Age 14
The day Minghao and Seokmin leave for Eton is etched in your mind with vivid clarity, every detail sharp and impossible to forget. The morning is cool, yet the sun spills across the courtyard in golden rays, casting long shadows from the trees that sway gently in the breeze. The scent of dew-laden grass mixes with the faint perfume of your mother’s rose garden, but even the beauty of the estate feels muted by the melancholy lingering in the air.
Minghao, ever composed, stands with the straight posture expected of him, his hands clasped behind his back, looking every inch the young man ready to step into his responsibilities. His face, though calm, carries the weight of leaving home, but he hides it well, his eyes betraying only a flicker of the emotions swirling beneath the surface.
Seokmin, on the other hand, struggles more visibly with the impending farewell. His usual cheerful grin falters, the lightness of his presence dimmed as he glances between you and Minghao. He tries to keep up his usual charm, cracking jokes that feel just a little too forced, his laughter not ringing as true as it normally does. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a softness you haven’t seen before, as if he’s trying to hide his own sadness behind that well-worn mask of joviality.
As they load their trunks into the carriage, a heavy knot forms in your chest. You know you’ll miss your brother, but it’s Seokmin’s departure that stings deeper. He’s been more than a friend these past years—he’s been a constant, a steady warmth you’ve come to rely on. His laughter, his easy charm, the way he could turn even the most mundane day into something special. The thought of him being gone, of not seeing him wander the estate with his boundless energy, makes your heart ache in a way you didn’t anticipate.
You step forward, your fingers trembling as you reach for Seokmin’s hand, your grip tighter than intended. “Promise me you’ll write?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper, each word trembling with the effort to hold back tears.
Seokmin’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, his usual grin giving way to something gentler. "Of course," he says, his voice steady but quieter than usual. He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture meant to comfort. “I’ll make sure you get the best letters—no boring stories, only adventures, I swear.” His grin returns, albeit a little weaker. "Besides, my lady, your brother and I will be back to torment you again come springtime!"
Minghao coughs politely. “No tearful goodbye for me, sister?”  he asks, his voice teasing, but there’s an undercurrent of affection in his words. His eyes flicker between you and Seokmin, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, though his posture remains upright and composed as ever.
You tear your gaze from Seokmin and offer your brother a watery smile. “Do not fret, dear brother,” you say, a bit of your usual wit returning. “I’ll save the tears for later, when the house is quiet without the two of you causing chaos.”
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My Dearest Y/N,
I trust this letter finds you in fine spirits, though I daresay it is far more likely that you are wrapped in the cozy embrace of your favorite blanket, lost in a book, while the world outside continues on its merry way. I cannot help but smile at the thought, for you have always possessed the rare gift of finding joy in the mundane. 
Eton is quite a spectacle, I must confess. The architecture is enough to make one feel as though they have stepped into a storybook. However, I must admit my fellow classmates lack the charm and wit of my beloved friend.
Oh, how I miss our little chats! It is a curious sensation to feel so far from home, yet I am bolstered by the knowledge that you are there, keeping our little world intact. Do tell me that you have not yet taken up knitting—your penchant for wool is far more than my eyes can bear. 
Yours most fondly,Seokmin
My Dearest Seokmin,
Eton sounds positively enchanting.I must admit, the thought of you amidst all that grandeur brings me no small measure of joy—though I do hope you have not yet been swept away by the grandeur of it all! I find it impossible to imagine anyone there being quite as dashing as you.
Life here, as you suspected, is a touch quieter without your vivacious presence. I feel compelled to admit that I found myself rather melancholic the day you left. It was a curious sadness, one that clung to me like a shadow. The house feels a touch emptier, and while I do find solace in my books, nothing compares to the ease of our conversations. The warmth of your laughter is a melody I find myself longing for, especially on the coldest evenings.
Do keep writing, dear friend. Your tales from Eton are the very lifeblood of my days, and I shall regale you with the ongoing drama of our little realm. Until then, consider me your most devoted fan, ever eager for your next missive.
With all my affection,Y/N
P.S. You will take great pleasure in knowing that I have, in fact, taken up crocheting. A lovely cap, perfect for early springtime chill, awaits you at the estate. 
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Age 15:
Seokmin’s return each spring is as reliable as the first crocus peeking through the thawing earth, marking the true end of winter. His arrival is never just an event—it’s a burst of life that sweeps away the dullness left by the cold months. Every year, your excitement bubbles over as you anticipate that familiar moment when the world feels a little brighter with his return. The sunlight bathes the garden in warmth, a golden hue spreading like liquid over the well-trodden path he walks down, Minghao beside him. Their laughter floats through the air, a melody that harmonizes with the soft rustle of blooming flowers and the hum of spring.
When they finally come into view, your heart quickens, as if drawn into the rhythm of their steps. With Minghao’s ever-amiable grin and Seokmin’s radiant energy, they are a pair that seems to make the world tilt just a little toward joy. Every spring, it's the same—they stride toward you as if no time has passed, as if the long months apart were nothing but a brief blink in the grander scheme of your lives. And each time, the three of you fall into the same routines as though nothing has changed.
It usually begins with some mischief. They never fail to poke fun at you until you’re red-faced with exasperation. Seokmin, with that teasing glint in his eyes, will say something absurd or playfully condescending, and Minghao, ever the instigator, will back him up with a sly smirk. It’s only a matter of time before you lose your patience, yell, and stomp your foot, your protests ringing louder than you’d intended.
Your raised voice inevitably draws the attention of your mother, who reprimands you from the kitchen window with her usual fond disapproval. "Now, now," she’ll chide, a soft laugh hidden in her voice. "There’s no need to shout, dear. They’re only playing."
Of course, that’s the cue for Seokmin and Minghao to burst into laughter, doubling over in amusement at how easily they’ve ruffled your feathers. You scowl at them, but it’s hard to keep a frown on your face when they’re both so gleeful, their joy infectious, lighting up the entire garden.
One afternoon, not long after their return, Seokmin and Minghao find their old practice fencing swords—long forgotten and buried deep in the flowerbeds, peeking out from beneath the tulips. You watch as they unearth the swords with a mixture of surprise and amusement, both of them laughing as if uncovering a treasure trove of memories. Their faces are bright with nostalgia as they pull the dirt-encrusted weapons free, brushing off the petals clinging to the blades.
It's then that Seokmin starts to call you "Tulip," a private little nickname he utters only when it's just the two of you. The first time he says it, there’s a lightness to his tone, his lips curling into that mischievous smile of his. “You know,” he says, leaning in closer as you both watch Minghao attempt a ridiculous fencing stance in the distance, “it only makes sense. After all, you’ve been hiding our swords with the tulips. I think ‘Tulip’ suits you.”
At first, you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance, but there’s a warmth in your chest at how easily he’s assigned you such a tender nickname. 
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One particularly warm afternoon, your mother summons you to help her with the flowerbeds, a chore you reluctantly take on. The sun beats down, the heat pressing into your skin and the earth beneath your fingers, while the scent of soil and fresh blossoms hangs thick in the air. You sigh, resigning yourself to the tedious task when, suddenly, a familiar voice cuts through the stillness.
“Ah, the fair lady in her noble endeavor!” Seokmin’s voice rings out, full of his usual playful grandeur. He strides through the garden gate, sweeping an imaginary cape behind him with exaggerated flair. His smile is as bright as the sun itself, lighting up the whole space. “Fear not, for I shall be your loyal squire in this quest for botanical beauty!”
Despite your earlier annoyance, a reluctant smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. Seokmin has a way of making even the most mundane tasks feel like an adventure. You watch as he bounds toward you, his movements light and full of energy. With an exaggerated show of determination, he rolls up his sleeves, pretending to prepare for battle. The weight of the day feels lighter already.
Together, the two of you dig your hands into the soil, your fingers dirty and the air filled with the soft rustling of the leaves around you. Laughter bubbles up between the two of you, mingling with the breeze as Seokmin’s animated voice brings life to the still afternoon. As you plant flower after flower, he regales you with tales of his fencing matches at Eton, his voice lively, arms waving dramatically to mimic the grand duels he’s fought.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he says with mock gravity, “this boy was at least twice my size, and I won the match with nothing but clever footwork and a flick of the wrist!” He pantomimes the move, his arm cutting through the air like a sword.
You laugh, shaking your head at his theatrical retelling, the tension of the task dissolving with every story. It’s impossible not to get caught up in his enthusiasm. “Is that so?” you tease, barely holding back a grin.
“I daresay, footwork in fencing is quite the advantageous skill,” Seokmin says, dropping to his knees beside you with faux-seriousness, inspecting the flowerbed as though it holds the secrets to the universe. “If one can move with the grace of a dancer, one can—”
Just as he gestures again, his elbow brushes against your arm, and suddenly, time seems to slow. The lighthearted atmosphere is pierced by a spark, a ripple of warmth that travels through you. Both of you freeze, his eyes widening in surprise. His cheeks flush a light pink as he quickly pulls back, his confidence faltering for a brief second.
“My sincerest apologies,” he stammers, the usual brightness in his voice now tinged with uncharacteristic bashfulness. He resumes his work, his fingers trembling slightly as they sift through the soil. The warmth of the sun suddenly pales in comparison to the heat between you.
“It’s quite all right,” you reply, your voice shaky, your heartbeat far more rapid than you’d like. “Just... gardening, after all.” You try for casualness, but the words sound ridiculous even to your own ears, given the charged air lingering between you.
Moments later, you stand to stretch, hoping to shake off the strange energy that has settled over the both of you. Seokmin leans in to grab a nearby tool, and his shoulder brushes against yours again—this time, the contact lingers for just a second too long. The heat of it sends another jolt through you, making your heart stutter.
You gasp, startled by the unfamiliar sensation, your breath hitching. The warmth spreads from your chest down to your fingertips, a strange, foreign feeling you can’t quite name.
“Goodness! I beg your pardon again,” Seokmin says quickly, his sheepish smile returning, though this time it’s softer, more hesitant. His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place. “It seems I have a propensity for unintentional collisions today.”
That smile—it makes your chest tighten. His presence, usually a source of comfort, now awakens something new within you, something unsettling yet undeniable. Gardening, once nothing but a mundane chore, has transformed into something far more intimate with Seokmin by your side. The flowerbeds seem to flourish under his laughter, vibrant blooms swaying as if they, too, revel in the joy of the moment.
But that foreign sensation? You tuck it deep into your mind, burying it along with the seeds you’ve planted, afraid to decode what it could mean. After all, this is Seokmin—your friend, your constant. And yet, the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin longer than it should, as if it’s quietly asking you to look closer.
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My Dearest Seokmin,
I hope this letter finds you in moments of solace amidst the tumult of your recent loss. It is with a heavy heart that I pen these words, having heard of your father’s passing. The news struck me with such a weight, as though the very air around me had grown thick with sorrow. I cannot begin to fathom the grief you must be experiencing, yet please know that my thoughts and prayers are ever with you during this difficult time.
Your father was a remarkable man, a beacon of kindness and integrity, and his absence will undoubtedly leave a profound void in the hearts of all who had the privilege of knowing him. I remember fondly the stories you shared, of his wisdom and warmth, which have clearly shaped the exceptional person you have become. His legacy, I have no doubt, will endure through you.
With his passing, I know you now bear the title of Duke. While this new responsibility may feel daunting, I have every confidence you will honor his legacy with the same grace and strength he embodied. I want you to remember that you are not alone. I am here, dear friend, steadfast and unwavering, ready to support you as you navigate this uncharted territory.
I eagerly await the day when I can see your smile again, and we can talk about the flowers in the garden, just as we always have.
With all my love and deepest sympathies,Y/N
My Dearest Tulip,
Your letter brought me a flicker of light amidst the shadows that have enveloped me since my father’s passing. It is a solace to know that you, too, share in my grief, and your words resonate deeply within me, reminding me that I am not alone in this turbulent sea of sorrow.
Thank you for your kind remembrance of my father. He often spoke of you with such fondness, and knowing how he impacted your life brings me a measure of comfort. His lessons of kindness and integrity remain etched in my heart, and I strive to honor his legacy in every decision I make as Duke. It is a weight I carry with both pride and trepidation, yet the knowledge of your unwavering support gives me strength.
Though this season feels uncharted and daunting, your friendship is a cherished constant. I, too, long for the day when we can stroll through the gardens, exchanging thoughts about the flowers and sharing laughter, just as we once did. Until then, I will hold onto the warmth of your words and the memories we’ve created.
With heartfelt gratitude and affection,Seokmin
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Age 16: 
When Seokmin and Minghao return home the next spring, it’s clear that Seokmin carries more than just the usual joy and liveliness he always brings with him. A new weight settles over him, one you haven’t seen before. The responsibility of the Dukedom starts to bear down on him, heavy as the cloak he will one day wear. His laugh remains bright, his smile still warm, but there’s something different now—an unspoken awareness that the carefree boy of the past is slowly giving way to the man he is becoming.
He has grown taller, his limbs long and strong, and the way he carries himself now commands attention. The once-boyish face is now defined, the angle of his jaw sharper, while his arms, corded with muscles, show the signs of hard work and training. It’s as if each inch he’s gained has come with a newfound strength, and when he meets your gaze, his eyes hold a certain seriousness, as if he is seeing everything with a fresh perspective.
The easy rhythm of your old routines stays intact—Minghao teasing you until you yell, Seokmin’s booming laughter echoing across the fields, and the reprimands from your mother when your playful shouts interrupt her afternoon peace. It all feels the same, yet beneath it all, you know things are changing.
On one such afternoon, you discover their practice swords—once lost and forgotten—buried haphazardly in the flowerbed among your mother’s beloved tulips. You pull them free with a gasp, the soil still clinging to the metal, and when you bring them to Seokmin, he chuckles, the sound a little sadder than you remember.
“Well,” he says, wiping the dirt from the hilt, “seems like even the tulips want to keep us from growing up too fast, eh, Tulip?”
Despite the weight of responsibility that now shadows him, he still calls you “Tulip.” The name slips easily from his lips, playful and tender, a thread that ties your past to the present. The quiet nickname carries the bittersweet truth: your days of carefree adventures and playful banter are slowly fading, giving way to the responsibilities of adulthood. And while the world around you shifts, that name—whispered in secret—feels like a promise that some part of him, some part of both of you, will always stay the same.
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My dearest Tulip, 
It is with a heart full of sorrow that I write to you, upon receiving the most distressing news regarding your father’s passing. The world seems dimmer without him, and my thoughts are consumed with the weight of your grief. I wish I could be there, to hold your hand and share in the memories of a man who undoubtedly brought so much light into your life.
When the silence envelops you, when the days stretch long and heavy with unshed tears, know that I am here for you. You need not wear a mask of strength; I shall not expect it. Life has a way of changing in an instant, and though we are thrust into roles we may not be prepared for, there remains solace in companionship.
Please remember, my dear friend, you are not alone in this journey. I stand with you, ready to lend my support and share in whatever you need.
With the utmost affection,Seokmin
My dearest Seokmin, 
Your letter reached me at a time when silence has settled heavily over the estate, wrapping around us like a shroud. It feels as though the laughter that once danced through these halls has been swallowed by a void, leaving behind a hushed emptiness. My mother, once so vibrant, now moves about with an air of resignation, her spirit dimmed as if she carries the weight of the world upon her shoulders. The joy that once bloomed within her seems to have withered, and even the flowers in the garden appear to droop, their colors muted in sympathy for our grief.
I often find myself worrying for Minghao. The new title of duke weighs upon him like a heavy cloak, and I fear that the responsibilities thrust upon him will change him in ways I cannot yet understand. I can only imagine the burden he feels, trying to uphold our father's legacy while grappling with the uncertainties of leadership. It frightens me to think of how this shift may alter our relationship, how he might feel compelled to step into a role that distances him from the brother I’ve always known. I fear I may lose him just as I have lost my father.
Yet, amid this uncertainty, your words bring me a flicker of comfort. The knowledge that you stand with me during this turbulent time is a balm for my spirit. I long for your return, for the laughter and warmth that you bring.
Until then, I hold your friendship close to my heart, a gentle reminder that even in the darkest of times, I am not alone.
With all my affection,Y/N
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Age 17: 
At the onset of spring, when Minghao and Seokmin return to the estate, the world feels subtly transformed. The air is perfumed with the scent of blooming flowers, yet there’s an unmistakable weight in the atmosphere, a quiet acknowledgment of the changes that accompany their new titles. As dukes, both acquire an aura of responsibility that overshadows the playful ease they once share.
The lighthearted teasing that characterizes your interactions is now less frequent, often replaced by a more thoughtful camaraderie. It’s as though their titles impose a certain decorum upon them, one that even the most mischievous of spirits cannot easily shake off. Their laughter, while still present, bears the faintest echo of seriousness that wasn’t there before.
Yet, despite this change, you find immense joy in their company, particularly when they engage in spirited sparring sessions in the training yard. As wooden swords clash and echo, it’s impossible not to feel a thrill at the sight of them—two young gentlemen, once boys, now embodying a gravity that demands respect even in their play.
The matches become a spectacle, each clash of wooden swords accompanied by shouts and laughter that echo through the estate. You perch on the sidelines, an amused spectator, as Seokmin and Minghao banter playfully between bouts. “You call that a strike?” Seokmin teases, deftly dodging your brother’s advance with a lightness that seems almost effortless. “I’ve seen more ferocity from a kitten!”
Minghao rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth betraying a grin despite his best efforts to maintain an air of dignity. “One day, Seokmin, you shall learn that mocking your opponent is a perilous game.”
You perch on the sidelines, unable to stifle the laughter bubbling forth at their antics. Each exchange between them is a delightful dance, weaving a tapestry of shared history and unspoken affection. Yet, as you watch, you cannot help but feel a twinge of wistfulness; the exuberance of their banter now seems to emerge from a place tinged with nostalgia.
The sun dips low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the training yard; both young gentlemen wield their wooden swords with a fervor that sends a thrill through the onlookers. You remain at a distance, your heart pounding in rhythm with each clash of wood, an exhilaration mingled with unease coursing through you.
Seokmin, with his characteristic bravado, flashes a teasing grin as he engages your brother. “Come now, my lord! Surely you can do better than that!” The laughter in his voice rings like a bell, though you can’t help but feel a knot of apprehension tighten in your chest.
As the match continues, you find yourself transfixed by Seokmin’s agile movements, the way he dances about the training yard with a carefree spirit. However, just as you begin to relax, a delicate butterfly flits past, capturing Seokmin’s attention momentarily. It is in this fleeting distraction that your brother seizes his opportunity, lunging forward with surprising speed.
“Seokmin!” you cry out, the word escaping your lips before you can restrain it. Time seems to elongate as you watch, breathless, as Seokmin turns just in time to evade the wooden sword’s path. He stumbles slightly, regaining his balance as he casts a quick glance your way, surprise etched upon his handsome features.
With your heart racing, you dash to his side, adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Are you quite well?” The urgency in your voice is unmistakable, for the thought of his injury sends a chill through you.
“Indeed, I am unharmed,” he replies, though the forced joviality of his laugh belies the tension of the moment. “Merely caught off guard, I assure you.”
Yet your heart refuses to calm. “You cannot be so reckless! What if you had been injured?” The fervor of your concern envelops you, and you see a flicker of something unspoken in his eyes as he steps closer, the air between you thick with a burgeoning intimacy. That same foreign sensation – the one from years ago when he had brushed against you in the gardens – ignites within you, one you had tucked away and kept hidden, rearing its head in this moment of vulnerability.
“Thank you, Tulip, for your ever-present concern for my well-being,” he murmurs, his voice lowered as he meets your gaze, the world around you fading into an indistinct haze. Just then, Minghao loudly clears his throat, and Seokmin drops his eyes, a bashful blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.
You step away, embarrassed, your heart pounding against your ribcage.
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Minghao corners you in the gardens that night, the cool summer breeze brushing against your skin as you take a walk, seeking solace from the tempest of thoughts swirling in your mind. The encounter with Seokmin lingers like a gentle whisper, an unsettling mixture of warmth and confusion that dances at the edges of your consciousness, teasing you with emotions you struggle to understand.
“Sister,” he begins, his voice so soft that you nearly startle. In an instant, he presses a hand against your mouth, his finger raised in a quiet plea for silence. “It’s only me, Y/N. I fear you’ll wake the entire estate.”
“It’s your fault for skulking about the gardens like a common thief!” you whisper back, fiercely. “What on earth could possibly require such urgent discussion that you couldn’t grant me one night of peace?”
His expression grows serious, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. “You must be careful, sister,” he admonishes, and in that moment, he seems less like your brother and more like the Duke of Somerset—tall, proud, and formidable. “There are whispers… about you and Seokmin.”
“Whispers? Whatever do you mean?” You search his face for clarification, anxiety bubbling within you.
Minghao shakes his head as if dismissing the very idea of this conversation. A wave of indignation washes over you, eager to burst forth. He may be only two years your elder, yet he still insists on treating you like a child. “Your debut into society draws near,” he continues, his voice measured and resolute. “You mustn’t jeopardize it.”
“But Minghao—” you begin, but he raises a hand, silencing you with a mere gesture.
“Listen. You know how these things unfold. A mere hint of impropriety could tarnish your reputation. I don’t want you to suffer from the kind of gossip that twists the truth.” His tone softens, revealing a hint of genuine concern that pierces through your indignation. “I only want what’s best for you.”
You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “I am not a child anymore,” you protest, the tremor in your voice betraying a mixture of frustration and uncertainty. “I am capable of making my own choices.”
“Perhaps,” he replies, his eyes steady and unwavering. “But I have a responsibility to protect you, Y/N. I don’t wish to stifle your spirit, but you must grasp the implications of your actions.”
The night air grows thick with unspoken sentiments, and as the stars twinkle overhead like mischievous spectators, you grapple with the tumult in your heart. There’s something about Seokmin that sends ripples of confusion coursing through you, a fluttering sensation that stirs your chest whenever his name crosses your mind. You do not fully comprehend what it is, but it’s undeniably present—a flicker of something more, leaving you teetering on the precipice of feelings you are not yet ready to confront.
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My dearest Seokmin, 
As I sit here with this pen in hand, I find myself quite at a loss. The arrival of my debut looms on the horizon, and while I am certainly filled with anticipation, I must confess that trepidation dances in my chest, quite uninvited. The notion of standing before an audience of peers—well-bred and well-mannered—fills me with an unease I cannot quite articulate. Will my words tumble forth in a jumbled mess? Or worse, will they fall on deaf ears?
I cannot shake the dreadful thought that I may never find a match. What if I enter that grand ballroom, adorned in my finest gown, and am met with indifference? Will the charming suitors twirl past me, whisking away others while I stand, forgotten, on the periphery? The idea sends a shiver down my spine, as I fear I may spend the evening watching the festivities unfold without me.
As I consider the expectations that accompany my debut, I can’t help but reflect on how you and Minghao have gracefully embraced your new roles as dukes. You carry the weight of your responsibilities with such elegance, while I find myself yearning to flourish in a world that feels daunting. Will I, too, be able to navigate this landscape of expectation and propriety, or will I falter under its weight?
Forgive my ramblings, dear friend. I suppose I am merely hoping for reassurance, a kind word from you. Perhaps if I know you will be there—your presence a familiar balm—I might muster the courage to dance and revel in the splendor of the evening.
With warmest regards and hopeful heart,Your Tulip
My Dearest Tulip,
Your recent letter has landed in my hands like a most delightful spring breeze, though I must confess it carries with it a hint of unease that quite unnerves me. How is it that my steadfast friend, who has faced the world with such spirited determination, now frets over the prospects of the ballroom?
First and foremost, allow me to put your mind at ease. The mere thought of you standing in that grand ballroom, adorned in the finest gown, is enough to illuminate the dimmest of corners. Your charm will be as radiant as the most exquisite of chandeliers, drawing the gaze of all who are fortunate enough to cross your path. I assure you, the gentlemen will hardly be able to focus on anything—or anyone—else.
Now, I cannot let this opportunity pass without a bit of teasing – regarding your step upon my toes during our lessons –  I daresay I must bring up a rather amusing memory. I cannot help but recall how you sent both Minghao and me reeling across the room, much like a pair of wayward marionettes! One can only hope that with age comes grace—or at the very least, a better sense of foot placement! If not, I shall be prepared to don the most resilient shoes in all of England.
Worry not, dear Tulip. I shall be by your side the entire season, if you shall have me (although, I am not entirely certain your dear brother will be entirely pleased by this idea). 
Your most loyal servant,Seokmin
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Dearest Sister, 
As I sit at my desk, I cannot help but feel a mixture of pride and exasperation as I pen this letter. Our infrequent exchanges have become quite the tradition, have they not? I find it amusing that as your brother, I am often left to await your words while Seokmin is constantly regaled by your stories. 
With your debut looming closer, I feel it is my solemn duty as both your brother and your Duke to remind you of the delicate nature of polite society. Your debut is not merely an occasion to don a gown and curtsy to the queen; it is a rite filled with expectations and decorum. I implore you to be mindful of the company you keep and the propriety that is expected of you as a young lady and the sister of the Duke. I have taken it upon myself to speak to Seokmin, warning him of the same – he has a habit of forgetting his own station in moments of levity. 
While I know you must find these constraints stifling, know that the eyes of the ton will soon be upon you, not only assessing your beauty but also your character. You are the jewel of our family, and I trust you will shine brightly, even amidst these expectations. 
Write to me when you can, dear sister, even if it is infrequent. Your musings are treasures to your dear elder brother, and I await them constantly. 
With all my love, Minghao
Dearest Brother, 
I say this with the utmost love and devotion:
Damn you. 
(Please forgive my language, and please, do not show this letter to Mama. I fear her admonishments may never end if she hears of my vernacular)
I am acutely aware of the expectations that accompany my debut – how could I forget when both you and Mama loom over me like a pair of hawks? While I recognize your intentions, your words do little to alleviate my anxiety. 
Your warning regarding Seokmin only serves to make me laugh. It is amusing, truly, to envision the Duke of Lancaster being chided by my brother on the virtues of propriety. I promise to keep my wits about me and to present myself with all the elegance expected of a young lady of my station (the sister of a Duke, no less!). 
I will do my utmost to avoid a scandal – or at the very least, I shall ensure that you do not hear of it. I shall write again soon, if only to unleash more of my exasperation upon you. 
Yours, in (implied) rebellion, Y/N (Sister of the Duke of Somerset)
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Age 18: 
On the eve of your debut, you find yourself seated on the swing in the garden of the Somerset townhome, the night cloaked in an almost palpable tension. The sounds of Mayfair filter through the stillness—a symphony of distant laughter, the soft clatter of carriages, and the occasional rustle of silk skirts—as the ton settles into slumber. The air feels electric, crackling with anticipation, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for the events of the morrow to unfold.
You take a deep drag from the cigarette you swiped from Minghao’s rooms, the smoke spiraling into the night like a fleeting thought. With each inhale, you hope to drown out the anxious fluttering of your heart, a dissonant rhythm that accelerates at the mere thought of tomorrow’s debut.
“Why, Lady Xu Y/N, are you smoking?” The voice breaks through your reverie, causing you to sputter and cough, hastily attempting to conceal the cigarette behind your back. You turn to see Seokmin, leaning casually against the sturdy oak tree that secures the swing, his figure silhouetted against the moonlight.
His presence is both familiar and disarming, the boyish charm of his smile juxtaposed against the weight of his title. “No, Seokmin, I—” you stammer, flustered.
“Shove over,” he commands lightly, and before you can protest, he plucks the cigarette from your frozen grip, taking a deep, leisurely drag. The sight of him—so confident, so carefree—sets your heart racing in a way that both delights and terrifies you.
“What on earth are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, half-exasperated, half-amused.
“I was with your brother at White’s,” he replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “It was my mistake to forget how little he can imbibe before devolving into an utter fool. I was merely making sure he returned home safely.” His tone shifts, curiosity sparkling in his gaze. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”
“Excited? Hardly,” you grumble, kicking at the scattered rocks beneath your feet. “What my heart truly desires is to run away—pack my things, flee to Paris, and open a quaint little bookstore. Perhaps live out my days as a spinster, surrounded by novels and solitude.”
Seokmin’s expression shifts, a shadow of understanding passing across his features. “We cannot always have what our hearts desire,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow as he exhales a plume of smoke. “Sometimes, we must accept that we can find happiness in what we have, not in what could have been.”
You watch the smoke dance and dissipate into the night sky, thoughts swirling as restlessly as the tendrils of fog around you.
“And you?” you ask quietly, the question escaping before you can catch it. “What does your heart desire?”
“Desired,” he corrects, taking another deep drag. “I once dreamed of being a fencer, of dueling beneath the sun. But above all, I yearned to find love.”
Your heart stutters at his admission. His thigh brushes against yours, an electric touch that feels so scandalously intimate you can hardly breathe. You suddenly become acutely aware of the nightgown you wear, the thin fabric doing little to shield you from the heat radiating from his body. If Minghao were to catch you in this moment, you are certain he would demand that Seokmin either marry you on the spot or duel him for your honor.
The very thought sends a shiver down your spine—an improper thought that both terrifies and thrills you. You are a young lady, poised to make your debut, and here you are, perched so closely to an eligible duke, the expectations of the ton looming like a dark cloud. What would society say if they were to discover you in this clandestine moment? The whispers would be deafening, your reputation in tatters, and yet… the thrill of it, the danger, pulls at you like a siren's song.
“And you believe you shall never find it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I am a Duke, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it barely pierces the night air. “Duty must come first. If there is any part of me left, which there rarely is, only then can I pursue love.”
The distance between you feels both impossibly vast and achingly close, the weight of his words pressing against you like an invisible force. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the unspoken longing that mirrors your own.
You hum, encouraging him to continue, yet the weight of his words presses down on your chest.
“But how fortunate am I,” he continues, his gaze piercing through the night like a beacon, “to have found such a remarkable friend who stands by me even as duty threatens to drown me where I stand.”
A friend. The word lingers between you, heavy and loaded. Is that truly all he sees you as? The realization sends your mind reeling, your heart racing in an entirely different way.
No, the trees whisper, urging you to reconsider.
Could it be…love?
That foreign sensation, long buried beneath layers of propriety and friendship, now unfurls within you, roots taking hold. You realize with a start that you have loved Seokmin, perhaps from that very first kiss on your hand all those years ago, long before you could articulate the feelings swirling in your heart.
Panic courses through you, and you leap up from the swing as if it has burned you. “It is late, Lord Lee. I must take my leave now,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “I hope you find your way home safely.”
He reaches out, his hand brushing against your wrist, and your breath hitches at the contact. “Wait,” he says, his voice low, almost laced with concern. “Are you alright? You seem... distant.”
His eyes search yours, and you feel the weight of his gaze, an anchor that both comforts and terrifies you. Your pulse quickens, a frantic rhythm echoing in your ears. What would it mean to linger here a moment longer, to let the night wrap around you like a cocoon?
But all the books you’ve read offer no preparation for the heartache that comes with knowing he regards you as merely a friend. A friend, just like your brother. You are his friend, and the shattering realization settles in: he will never love you back.
“Tulip?” he adds softly, the word a whisper that brushes against your skin like the wind.
You swallow hard, every part of you aching to give in, to lean into the connection pulsing between you. But the truth looms like a storm cloud overhead, dark and inevitable.
You love Lord Lee Seokmin, Duke of Lancaster, but he will never love you.
And with that heavy knowledge weighing on your heart, you turn to leave, every step toward your room feeling like a betrayal to the emotions simmering just beneath the surface. 
You don’t sleep at all, thoughts consumed by a boy you had once known and the man you now love. 
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Tagging: @kibs-and-bits @moondustmemories @shinwonderful @ivehypnosis @gwend0lyne @thestoryofana13
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thehelltingvilleclub · 2 days ago
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Bill Dickey - Comic & Ego Extraordinaire
Welcome to the club, why not meet the president?
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William “Bill” Alan Dickey [04/13/80] | [5'11.5 (that .5 is real Important*)] Secretary of Comics | President of the Eltingville Club AOL / Online Users: [greedo318] | [DarkxKnightx] Theme Songs: What’s My Age Again? - blink-182 | My Own Worst Enemy - Lit | Brutal - Negative 25 Favorite Shit: Stan Lee, The X-Men, Complete Runs, Signed Editions, The Joker, Emma Frost, The Batman, Alternate Earths, Variant Covers, Crossovers, Torrent Sites, Action Figures, Statues/Busts, Alex Ross, Bondage Covers, First Printings, Continuity, Cosplay Chicks, “Headlights”.
In the ripe year of 1999, Bill Dickey couldn't be any more... Tired? Annoyed? A lonely piece o' sh-- But that's fine, everything is fine, right guys? .... Guys? The fact he's managed to keep the club together is baffling at best (and all thanks to Jerry, and May.. er.. Mr. Osewai, actually), and completely unbelievable at worst, but he's still got his friends (kind of) and they still like him (eh..) He's a nice guy, honest, just.. don't turn on your brain.
Variants Under the Cut--
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Oh Captain, My Captain
His @ greedo318 account got banned essentially in the first two weeks of him getting it on Messenger about a year back, as May and Pete helped Josh essentially spam report it when he started to harass Josh there too. Hence the new name that he actually uses.
Mrs. Dickey is still trying to force him to get a job, and while he has applied, he flops any and every interview he lands with his stupid need to be the loudest asshole in the room.
This man's ego is absolutely the size of the sun, it's almost immeasurable I assure you, HOWEVER--
Show him some ⋆。°✩spunk~✮⋆˙ show him you bark back just as harsh as him and he *might* just keep you around.
Someone please just get him a better acne face wash and a steady form of income that isn't his mother's paychecks bro please for the love of god--
He was actually one of the first in the group to get a car, but he never has money for gas so he like never drives it. It was a "gift from dad" according to his mom, but he doesn't believe her for a minute. (He's convinced she bought it for him to get him to move out.)
His mom watches Titanic every year on his birthday after 1997 and he HATES it to the point he has threatened to disconnect the breaker if she kept playing it at full volume.
He is still convinced that he has a shot with May (Despite her telling him repeatedly no) and is INSISTENT about it like a possessive little weirdo (news flash, he doesn't but he's delusional so it's fine)
^^ This absolutely pisses Pete off but he can't say shit cause he's a baby that won't ask her out so--
The night of the Destruction of Joe's Fantasy World, Mr. Osewai had tried to stop in and pick something up for May when he walked in on.. well, Dickey on fire. His paternal instincts kicked in and managed to help the kids and smooth some things over with the families (and.. may or may not have threatened to rip out Joe's tongue but like it's fine).
Dickey has a strong sense of gratitude for the guy, even if he expresses it in the WEIRDEST ways, 'cause at the end of the day the guy kind of saved his only group of friends from his own bullshit.
When he does eventually land a job, it's essentially a generic gas station attendant, but they let him read his comics on the job when he has to work nights so that's a plus?
Guh guys I hate this man so much can someone please explain why I have so much fun drawing him please please please--
also... this somethin' y'all want?
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cosyvelvetorchid · 2 days ago
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For One Night Only.. Maybe
My new Bucktommy fake dating/clipboard Buck au!
Read on AO3 or below.
Enjoy!
🩶
**********
Chapter 1
Rating: G (for this chapter. Will be M or E later on)
w/c: 4320
Summary:
Tommy Kinard asks Evan Buckley to be his fake boyfriend for one night to keep his aunt Clara off his back about dating.
The problem begins when it goes well.
Too well.
Tommy tries to ignore the fact that he’s falling for a straight guy.
While Buck is trying to figure out what these new strange feelings he’s having mean.
**********
“Thanks again for dinner.”
“No problem, Tommy.” Chimney said clearing the dinner table. “I’m just glad we actually found the time to properly hang out”
“Yeah and not in the back of a helo in a hurricane.” Hen added.
“Anybody ready for dessert?” Chimney called from the kitchen.
“Oh, no.” Tommy patted his stomach. “Anymore food and my shirt will burst.”
“Yeah, like it’s not already pulling at the seams from your ridiculous muscles.” Hen joked. Tommy lifted up his arm into a bicep curl with a grin and Hen rolled her eyes as they laughed.
“You should definitely join me and Eddie at our pick up basketball games.” Chim said sitting back down at the table.
“I’d love to. You play as well, Evan?”
“Oh he hates basketball.” Chim answered for him.
“What?!” Tommy responded looking at Buck. “How can you hate basketball ball? It’s the sport of kings!”
Buck shrugged. “Just never interested me.” He replied honestly.
“Travesty.” Tommy teased.
“I’m gonna make coffee.” Chimney stood up.
“I’ll help.” Hen followed him into the kitchen.
“So what hobbies do you have?” Tommy asked.
“Uh, I-I love to cook.” Buck said. “Bobby’s been teaching me pretty much since I arrived at the 118.”
“Man, I miss his cooking. Those family dinners were the shit.”
Buck chuckled. “They still are. Actually he’s having a dinner this weekend. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you came too.”
“Ah, I’d love that but I got family coming to visit this weekend.”
“The queen is finally asleep.” Maddie said walking out into the living room.
“How many stories did you have to read?” Hen asked.
“Four.” She said. “In the end I had to make one up about Tommy.”
“Me?” Tommy questioned.
“Oh you’re the star of the evening—Daddy’s friend who can fly. Right now you’re the coolest person she knows.”
“She’s not wrong.” Tommy joked, popping his collar.
“Maybe I should tell her the story of Maurice.” Hen said.
“Oh, come on!” He replied.
“Who’s Maurice?” Buck asked. Hen and Chimney looked at each other and laughed.
“Well..” Chimney began the story as Tommy shook his head in embarrassment.
*****
Buck sat at his island eating his breakfast checking his texts. He’d received one from Maddie thanking him for coming over for dinner. It never failed to make him laugh the she always did that, even though there was no need—he was her brother.
It had been a nice evening all around. He loved getting to spend time with Jee, who didn’t miss the opportunity to make Uncle Buck promise that next time he came over they’d bake cookies, and he’d enjoyed getting to know Tommy more.
He’d heard the stories from Hen and Chim about Tommy’s time at the 118, and he knew that he’d helped them out with that fire at Doheny park years ago. They had talked about him with fondness how it would be nice to catch up with him- though neither of them thought it would take a capsized cruise ship and a category 5 hurricane to do it.
Tommy was just so cool. But in an understated way—he didn’t talk or walk like he thought his shit didn’t stink, but instead seemed quite humble and on more than one occasion seemed a little uncomfortable when Hen or Chim were praising him. Which just made him even cooler.
What Buck noticed the most was just how masculine he was. He was tall, broad and muscular. His hair was similar to a regulation military cut, perhaps a little longer and his lower face was caressed with dark stubble. The cleft was something Buck couldn’t stop himself from looking at the most. He’d always admire the feature on a man. And Tommy was indeed a man.
But his masculinity what balanced, however, by his deeply blue eyes surrounded by long dark lashes. He was somehow incredibly handsome and equally pretty. Strangely, Buck couldn’t stop looking at him.
As he threw his breakfast plate into the sink a knock on his door echoed in the apartment and he opened his door to the last person he expected.
“T-Tommy.”
The man smiled. “Hey, Evan. Can I come in?”
“Uh, sure.” He stepped aside to let him through.
“Wow! Maybe I’m working at the wrong station.” Tommy said as he looked around Bucks living space.
“Is-is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He said waving away Buck’s concerns. “I actually have a, uh, favour to ask.” He scratched the back of his head. For as confident he’d seemed so far, this morning he seemed.. nervous? Perhaps not nervous but certainly less confident that he had been the evening before.
From the moment Tommy had met them at Harbour station weeks ago, he’d done nothing but ooze confidence. His body language, the way he spoke, the way he did his job—Buck had watched in awe at the way his hands delicately glided over the controls as he flew the helicopter back after the cruise ship rescue. In the handful of times they’d met since then, Tommy always seemed to come across quite squared away and sure of himself.
“Uh, sure.” Buck walked over to the counter. “You want a coffee?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“So what’s the favour? Nothing illegal is it?” Buck teased pouring them both a mug.
“I- What if it was?” Tommy enquired with a curious look to his eyes.
“That would depend on what it was.”
“Wait, so there’s some illegal activity you would be willing to engage in if I asked?” Tommy raised an eyebrow. Actually if he looked at Buck with those eyes Buck probably be willing to do a lot.
“Well, like murder? No. Breaking into a lab to rescue animals—I’d be down.” He answered placing Tommy’s coffee mug in front of him on the island.
“Thanks, and duly noted.” He chuckled. “No, it’s nothing like that. You remember last night I mentioned I had family coming to town?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s my aunt Clara who’s coming.” Tommy said.
“Is she not very nice?”
“No, she’s great. Practically raised me after my parents-“ He abruptly stopped himself from finishing the sentence. “She’s a great lady. The problem is that from the moment I came out to her a couple of years ago she has constantly been trying to set me up with men she knows. And, God love the woman, but her taste in men is awful.” Buck couldn’t help but laugh.
“Are you wanting me to set you up with someone? ‘Cause, I’m sorry but I don’t think I know any single gay men.”
“Oh, no, that’s not- That wasn’t the favour.”
“Oh?”
“I’m actually not looking to date anybody, which she cannot seem to accept. But, when she wouldn’t let it go on the phone last week, I kinda, sorta lied and told her I already had a boyfriend.” He admitted.
“And now she’s coming to visit..” Buck said picking up what he was getting at.
“She’s expecting me to introduce her to him.”
“Oh.” Buck responded.
“So-“ He elongated the word. “I was wondering if you would consider.. pretending to be my boyfriend for an evening?
“Oh.” Buck said again. He had zero idea of what the favour was going to be but he never would have guess that.
“She’s only on town for 1 night and it would just be a couple of hours for dinner, which I’ll pay for so you’ll get a free meal out of it.”
“Why me?” Buck asked, truly confused as to why Tommy would pick him of all people. Tommy was effortlessly cool and accomplished—Buck was a dork, who never shut up.
“Two reasons, really. Firstly, I don’t have anybody else to ask. She met Chimney a couple of times back when I was at the 118 and knows he’s straight. That leaves Bobby, which, absolutely not, or Eddie and no offence to him but he screams straight guy—no way he could pull off queer.”
Buck laughed at the true statement. “But you think I could?”
“God, I hope so.” Tommy said. “Plus, you’re closer to my type anyway so it’s more likely that Clara would believe it.”
Tommy’s face was kind of adorable, really. Buck wasn’t sure if he was deliberately putting on those puppy dog eyes, but they were working, regardless.
“What would I need to do?”
“Just have dinner with us.”
“That’s it?” Buck asked.
“You’re expecting more? I’m not sure that would be appropriate at the dinner table, Evan.” Tommy winked and Buck’s cheeks immediately pinked up.
“That’s not what I meant!” He protested to Tommy’s amusement. “I just meant like, would I have to hold your hand, have my arm around you etc?”
“You wouldn’t have to. Not if that would make you feel uncomfortable, I mean.” He explained.
“I-I don’t mind. When is the dinner?”
“Friday night.”
“Okay. That gives us 3 days to plan.” Buck said unlocking his phone and opening the notes app.
“I’m sorry.. plan?” Tommy said confused.
“Well yeah.. If we’re going to make this believable we need to make sure we get our stories straight.”
“She’s my aunt, not the Spanish Inquisition, Evan.”
“And what happens if-if.. Say I order you a drink and it’s one you hate and she knows that you hate it.. wouldn’t that be weird? Or-or if she asks how we met and we give different answers.”
“I think you’re overthinking this a little.” Tommy said gently.
“I think you’re under thinking this a lot.” Buck countered.
Tommy looked at Buck for a few seconds and sighed resolutely. “I’m not going to win this am I?”
“Nope.” Buck replied with a grin.
Little did Tommy know that he’d just met Clipboard Buck.
***
“So, what sort of plan do you have in mind?” Tommy asked as they walked through a local park. It was a beautiful sunny and warm day—the first in almost a week of cloudy, drizzly weather. If nothing else, Tommy could at least get some vitamin D out of this ridiculous plan.
The thing is he admired Evan’s commitment to the cause, but it really was just going to be for one night of dinner. And it’s not like Clara was going to torture them for information to test their “relationship.”
But, though he wouldn’t admit it even on threat of death, Tommy actually found Evan’s excitement of it all quite adorable.
“We need to learn basic things about each other like favourite foods, where we grew up etc. You know—stuff your partner would know after.. how long have we been together?”
“2 months.”
“Right, after 2 months together. But we don’t have a long time to do it.”
“So, we need the cliff notes of each other is what you’re saying.”
“Exactly.” Buck said.
“Is there a form I could fill in for this?”
“See, I just learned something about you.” Buck said almost triumphantly.
“What?”
“You’re quite bitchy.” Buck informed him. There was no malice or judgement in Buck’s voice—it was actually one his favourite qualities in Tommy so far.
“I am not!” He protested. Buck just gave him a look. “Yeah well, you.. yap. You’re a yapper.” His face was smug as though he’d figured out something nobody else knew.
“I know.” Buck said without a hint of shame. And he truly wasn’t ashamed. A few years ago, he’d have thought differently. On more than one occasion Taylor Kelly, his ex girlfriend, had called him a yapper and never meant it affectionately.
After that ended, he started working on a newer and improved version of himself. (Although he couldn’t remember if he was supposed to be Buck 4.0 or Buck 5.0. So what? At least he was trying to improve, right?)
“We could play 20 questions or something like that?” Buck asked.
“I’m sorry are we 14?” Tommy replied.
“Sorry.” Buck said looking down. But Tommy could tell that he thought he’d done something wrong. Maybe Evan was right about his bitchiness. Guilt pricked at his chest.
“I’m sorry. You’re right—it’s actually a good idea.” Tommy conceded and Buck threw him a skeptical look. “I promise.” He smiled softly. “I guess I was just being bitchy.” He added with a deliberate smirk. Buck playfully rolled his eyes before continuing to walk alongside Tommy.
“I guess I’ll start—What’s your favourite movie?” Buck asked.
“Love Actually.”
“I’ve never seen it.”
“What?! How have you not seen it?” Tommy asked.
Buck shrugged. “Just not a big movie watcher. My sister and are were kinda sheltered from a lot of movies and shows as a kid so never really got into them. I love documentaries though.”
“Noted. Worst injury you’ve had on the job?”
“That would be the engine that crushed my leg.” Buck answered. Tommy stopped still.
“Wait that was you?!” Buck nodded. “I remember watching that on tv.”
Buck scoffed. “So did my girlfriend at the time. She didn’t handle it well. Broke up with me as soon as I got out of hospital.”
“Charming.” Tommy responded sarcastically. “How long did it take to heal?”
“Uh, about 5 months for my leg to heal to pass my physical, but then I threw a blood clot in my lung and set me back another 2 months thanks to the blood thinners.” Buck explained.
Tommy couldn’t not notice the sadness on Bucks face as he remembered that time in his life. He recognised the look from his own reflection when he caught himself thinking about his own past. He tried not to allow himself to do that much as it was too painful. But every so often those memories would slide their way into to his consciousness.
“What about you?” Buck asked.
“Chopper went down in Afghanistan. Got a punctured lung and broke my arm in two places.”
“You were in the military?” Buck asked, surprised.
“Army.” Tommy replied. “Enlisted at 18. It’s why I transferred to Harbor—I missed flying.”
“I bet it feels like having a super power.” Buck said back.
“On occasion.” He said.
“Man, I would love to be a be able to fly.”
“I can give you lessons if you want?” He offered. 
“Really?” Buck questioned excitedly.
Tommy nodded. “It’s the least I could do for helping me out.”
“I don’t think that’s equal.” Buck argued. “At least let me buy you a beer. Actually, speaking of—what do you like to drink?”
“Like every other boring cis male I mostly drink beer. Occasionally a nice red wine. You?”
“I like an IPA. Just keep me away from the Margaritas.”
“Do I want to know?” Tommy eyed him up.
“I kissed Lucy.” He admitted, embarrassed.
“Donato?!”
“Yeah. Actually, she kissed me first for the record. But I-I, uh.. had a girlfriend at the time.” 
“Oh.” He said elongating the word.
“Yeah, not my finest moment.” Buck said.
“Are you still together?” He enquired.
“Oh, no—we broke up a few months after that. Different reason though.”
Tommy didn’t push the subject. They continued leisurely walking around the park trading basic personal information: Where they were from—Tommy was born and bred in L.A, Buck from Pennsylvania; music tastes—Buck liked pop music and whatever was on the radio on his drive in to work, Tommy liked what Buck teased as dad rock; Favourite place to eat—Tommy loved a local pizza joint, Micellis, Buck liked Sushi Palace.
It was, admittedly, not as hellish an afternoon as Tommy had been expecting. In fact it had actually been quite pleasant. There was an ease talking to Evan. He wasn’t arrogant or judgmental like a lot of men Tommy had met that were Evan’s age. Instead, though he was confident, he was also open; wasn’t ashamed of the things he liked and certainly didn’t seem to be putting on any airs and graces to impress Tommy.
**********
“Hi, Evan.” Tommy answered the phone just as he sat down in Habors rec room. “What’s up?”
“What are you wearing?” 
“Wow, and so early in our relationship. I dig it.” 
“Hilarious, Tommy.” Buck said as Tommy chuckled. “I’m talking about tomorrow night.” 
“Uh, I don’t know. Haven’t really thought about. I’ll probably just grab a shirt from my closet. I might even wear clean jeans. Why?”
“I was thinking we should coordinate.”
“It’s just a casual dinner, Evan. It doesn’t really matter all that much.” 
“But I-I want to make a good impression on your aunt.” 
Tommy couldn’t help but smile at his ridiculous new friend. Chimney had told him that he was the type to go all in with whatever he did and he wasn’t kidding. 
“Evan, you really don’t have to worry. I’m sure you’ll look great whatever you wear, and honestly Clara isn’t going to care.”
“I can’t help it—I’ve never been on a date with a guy before.” He said earnestly. “You asked me to help and I want to do a good job for you.”
And didn’t that make Tommy feel a certain way he definitely shouldn’t be. 
“I appreciate that, Evan. And you for helping me. But really, you don’t have to worry. I promise.”
“Okay.” Buck said back but Tommy heard the concern in his voice.
He was probably going to regret his next suggestion. “If it will make you feel better, why don’t you come to my place before dinner and you can pick my outfit.”
“Really?” Tommy could practically hear the grin on Bucks face.
“Really.”
“Cool.” 
**********
Tommy walked into his house desperate for a shower. He’d been working ground support on a landfill fire and smelled like what could only be described as burnt plastic wrapped in fish. 
He took three steps up his stairs when his doorbell rang. He’d hoped it would be Larry across the street whom he hated for being the neighbourhood busybody who would complain about anything and everything. He’d love Larry to get a big old whiff of him right now. 
He was surprised however to see his aunt on the other side of the door. 
“Aunt Clara? I thought we were going to be meeting at the restaurant.”
“I wanted to surprise my favourite nephew.” Her small 5 foot frame stepped forward and she reached up to grab Tommys face, planting a kiss onto his cheek; her long black flowing kaftan, despite her small stature, almost enveloping him. 
“I’m your only nephew.” He reminded her which she ignored. 
“Grab my bag, darling.” She gestured behind herself. “Did something die in here?” She remarked.
“Oh, sorry that’s me. I was just about to have a shower.” She waved her hand in front of her face trying to waft away the ripe stench coming from him.
“Is there a problem with your hotel?” Tommy brought her bag inside as she turned and made her way into the kitchen. 
“Some issue with their power. They’ve cancelled all reservations for tonight. I hope you have better coffee this time, and not that cheap crap that tastes like it’s already been through somebody.” She opened and closed his cabinets until she found his coffee, which as it happened was better than what he used to buy.
“So, you’re staying here?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Uh, no. No, of course not. It’s- I just wasn’t expecting it. I haven’t set up the guest room.” He said.
She waved her hand; the sound of her beaded jewellery clacking as she moved. “You don’t have to go to the trouble, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Tommy looked at her incredulously. “I wouldnt be caught dead sleeping on a couch—I have standards” - that’s a direct quote from you.” 
“People change, Thomas.” She argued as she squinted at Tommys coffee machine trying to figure out what buttons to press. “What happened to just using a simple coffee pot? Your generation are obsessed with these damn robot machines.” 
Tommy chuckled. “Aunt Clara, you go sit down and I’ll make the coffee.” 
“Thank you, darling.” She affectionately tapped the side of his face. She stopped after taking a step past him. “On second thought you better take that shower first—you smell like my first husband. After he died.” 
***
Tommy emerged from his shower feeling like a brand new man. He threw on some sweats and a T-shirt and headed downstairs to make his aunt coffee.
He found her standing in front of his fireplace admiring the photograph of his mother that sat on top of the hearth. His mom was standing by his grandmothers Christmas tree with a 1 year old Tommy in her arms. Her smile was big and happy—the picture taken back at a time when her smiled outnumbered her cry’s.
“She was so beautiful.” Clara remarked hearing Tommy enter the room.
“Yeah.” He agreed.
“Shame she met your piece of shit father. Actually, that’s not entirely fair—she got you of it,” she patted his upper arm. “The only good thing to ever come from him.”
She walked back over to the sofa and sat down, tucking her crossed legs underneath herself.
“Speaking of pictures—I want to see one of this Evan boy.”
Shit. Evan. He was going to be coming over soon and judging by the nerves he’d already had at the prospect of tonights dinner, he was probably going to shit himself entirely when he turns up and gets an early and unexpected introduction.
Also, how was he going to explain not having any photos of Evan? Perhaps his reassurances to Evan that tonight would be fine was preemptive. 
“I- it’s a new phone so I don’t have any pictures.” He said on the fly and hoped she’d believe it.
“What about his social media? You kids post everything in there these days.”
“I don’t really use it.” That was the truth. Lucy had made him set up an instagram account once but he’d posted one picture of a sunset taken from the helm of his helo and that was it.
“Oh you should, darling—I’ve met some wonderful men from instagram. I haven’t paid for a dinner in months!” She said happily.
“Aunt Clara!” Tommy chastised “You can’t just meet random men from the internet! Do you know how dangerous that is?”
“Sweetheart, when you get to my age, danger is just a little extra excitement.” She told him “Besides, a woman has needs that must be-“
“Woah!” Tommy threw his hands up. “I so do not need to know the rest of that sentence.”
Clara rolled her eyes. “It’s 2024, Thomas—women like sex too. It’s not something to be ashamed about.”
“Yes, I get that, and agree. However I don’t need to know about your sex life, thank you.” He told her and she laughed. “Besides, since when did you use social media?”
“I told you—to meet men.”
“You joined social media to get laid?” He said; incredulity all over his face.
“For company, Thomas. At our age people are dropping like flies.”
“You’re 62, not 90.” He reminded her.
“Yes but the men my age that haven’t eaten or drank themselves into a heart attack, all want housewives; women to wipe their asses for them like it’s 1950.” She shook her head. “I want to spend my final years on this earth eating good food, drinking fantastic wine and having mind blowing orgasms,” Tommy grimaced. “And only the younger ones know how to give those.”
“How.. how young are we talking?” Tommy asked mildly terrified of the answer.
“The last one was..” she looked up at the ceiling as she recalled the answer. “41.”
“Christ, Clara he’s my age!”
“And all the better for it.” She winked.
“Okay!” He abruptly stood up. “We’re done with this conversation—I’m going to make that coffee.” He quickly made for the kitchen to the sound of Clara’s laughs behind him.
He closed the kitchen door and pulled out his phone to call Buck, swearing to himself when there was no answer because presumably it meant that he was already driving to Tommy’s.
He made himself and Clara coffee then hovered near front door to hopefully catch Evan as he arrived. Luck was on his side when he spotted the jeep pulling up against the curb. He quickly ran to meet him.
Buck lifted out a bunch of hangers, each holding a different shirt. “Hey, so I brought a couple of options for-“
“She’s here.” Tommy interrupted.
“Huh?”
“My aunt. She’s here. Turned up like an hour ago.”
“I thought we were meeting her at the restaurant?” Buck asked.
“So did I. But there’s an issue with her hotel so she’s staying here tonight.”
“Wow. Okay.” Buck looked toward the house to see a woman with dark curly hair wiggling her fingers at him with a smile. He took in a deep breath. “We haven’t discussed our relationship, yet. Like-like who asked who out, what we like to do on dates, and-“
Tommy placed his hands into Bucks shoulders to, let’s be honest, shut him up. “It’ll be fine. But.. I should probably have warned you that she’s.. well, she’s not like most women her age. She’s remarkably progressive and very open about a lot of things. She also sometimes forgets her boundaries, so prepare for some invasive personal questions.”
“You couldn’t have told me all this before?” Buck argued.
“I was going to when you got here but I wasn’t expecting her first. If you don’t want to do this I completely understand. I can tell her your sick or-“
It was Bucks turn to interrupt. “No, I want to. I promised I would help. It’s fine.” He gave a somewhat nervous smile.
“Okay.” Tommy nodded. He turned and held out his hand for Buck to take. “You ready?”
Buck slid his fingers into Tommy’s and was immediately surprised at how soft his hands were. Tommy led them up the path and into the house.
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redplanetlobster · 2 days ago
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As I have finished reading CoO, I have spent even more time thinking about teeth. Here's the hcs that I currently have for the Batfamily.
Dick: To put it lightly his teeth are fucked. Not only are his teeth fucked, but his entire jaw is messed up. Getting teeth implants at like age 5 really messed with the structure of his jaw. After the events of The CoO Dick went to a new dentist (because the last one must have been a plant from the Court) and learned that his options were basically reconstructive surgery that may not actually fix the problem and getting a properly sized implant or just living with it. Dick decided to just live with it. Now though, he literally cannot eat food above or below a certain temperature. Any food that isn't basically room temperature will put him out of commission with a jaw ache for at least 2 hours. At least once a week he pops two ibuprofen and downs a bowl of ice cream. The ibuprofen does nothing.
Jason and Cass: Both are genetically missing teeth. Cass is missing 2 molars on the right side of her mouth and Jason is missing his wisdom teeth. Cass will constantly grumble about how unfair it is that he got that lucky. While Jason was gallivanting around the world learning how to be the Red Hood without a care in the world, Cass had to be ambushed and knocked out in order to get her into the surgeon's chair. While the rest of her teeth are grateful that the sideways growing wisdom teeth are gone, Cass has vowed to never go back. The implants for her missing teeth that Bruce has scheduled for her when she's 25 may put a damper in that plan.
Kate and Tim: They have perfect teeth. Like they have 32 teeth in their mouths, perfect teeth. Kate likes to hold this fact over Bruce's head and Tim likes to hold it over Damian's. Tim nearly got strangled by Steph once for truthfully stating that he's never had a cavity.
Bruce and Damian: They have very small mouths. This leads them both to almost constantly needing to have a tooth pulled for one reason or another. When Jason informs Damian that that means he'll probably have to have braces and then a retainer for the rest of his life, Damian immediately renounced Bruce's heritage like that would save the rest of his teeth. This leads to a good week-long endeavor where everyone (except for Jason and Dick) had to convince Damian that it wasn't the end of the world that he'll have braces. Jason's not allowed to help because he stated the whole thing and Damian currently tries to kill him on sight. Dick's not allowed to help because when informed that Damian was trying to find a dentist who would implant his pulled teeth back into his mouth, Dick sat him down as explained in detail why getting implants before your 21st birthday would be an extremely bad idea. It ends up being a tag team effort between Bruce and Steph that finally explains to him that 'no braces aren't the worst thing in the world' and 'yes, your mother knew I wore a retainer to bed. No, it did not affect how she saw me (I hope)'.
Duke: As a kid, Duke would refuse to touch any of his loose teeth and had to get nearly every one of them pulled. When he moved into the Manor he walked in on Jason, Steph, and Dick (with Tim looking on in horror) talking about all of the weird ways that they've lost their baby teeth. Duke makes a comment about having never lost a baby tooth under his own power that somehow convinces all of them that he has the wildest stories for losing teeth. Both Steph and Jason accept it silently and don't ask any follow up questions. Tim and Dick, however, are determined to get every story from Duke. Duke ends up asking Babs to hide his dental records from the both of them.
Steph: She doesn't know exactly what is up with her top second incisors and her top canines but her dentist's current theory is that they've just switched places. She also had braces to bring her widely spaced teeth together in order to make space for her wisdom teeth.
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ritualofcirice · 3 days ago
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Could we get a letter of sup-port for our dear FrauGwinska? She's a wonderful person who needs to hear just how amazing she really is. She's been nothing but a positive example in the HH Fandom, and I know I'm not the only one who can attest to that fact.
Thank you so much for doing these, by the way. It's so lovely to see people lifting others up when hate has been all to prevalent lately.
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🐑 ♡ Here's one letter fresh from Sup-port, addressed one delightful author ♡ 🐑
Dear @fraugwinska,
What an honour it is to be able to write a letter to you! From electrifying Vox smut, to the carefully constructed world of Gem, you're stories intrigue and capture the hearts of those that read them.
Not only that, but you've provided a space for other writers to feel seen. You have made a space where people can go to share with others and talk amongst friends.
That's why you've been nominated for a letter! We want to give back all the support you have given us. Inside and outside of the server, we all want you to know that it is just as much a place for you to be seen, appreciated, and loved. This goes for both you and all your heartful stories. Thank you for sharing them with us, and thank you for all that you have done for the fandom!
Wishing all the best, and sending all of our love,
The Sup-port Team xo
Let's see what other letters arrived for you!
From @hazelfoureyes ♡
Mein Frauchen, very often I read things that make me feel inadequate as a writer. Several times it was things you’ve written, you talented bitch (I love you). I know good art doesn’t always get the recognition it deserves, but I hope you truly believe me when I say you’re skilled in many areas and your efforts are always appreciated. The first time I read your work I almost got too intimidated to talk to you anymore haha but I did! Somehow! ♡ I’m unsure how to lift your spirits, but please know no matter how you choose to exist in our fandoms we all share together that we are better for your presence.
From @macabr3-barbi3 ♡
"Frau is one of the most genuine and heartfelt people I have ever met- she was one of the first people in the Hazbin fandom to welcome me, which was honestly wild because I was already a fan of Method to Madness and was just baffled that she was not only such an amazing writer, but an amazing person all around. When we started chatting after a frankly mortifying initial interaction on my part, I was so happy to find that we were so similar and that she was so fun to talk to and conspire with. So many of my ideas have come from the inspiration she brings me, as a fellow writer and as a friend. She is endlessly patient, empathetic to a degree I've never seen, and so so so supportive and encouraging of everyone that she interacts with in the servers we share. She is funny and charismatic and sweet, and I've grown closer to her faster than I've ever bonded with another person before. It hurts to know sometimes that she doesn't see herself the way that myself and so many others in the Hazbin community see her- an integral and important part of the fanfiction community and in all of our lives. It is one of my greatest privileges in life to not only be here to support her writing and her work but to call her one of my absolute best friends, and I can't wait to see how much further she grows."
From @kewpikayo ♡
Kindness. Warmth. Inspiration, A powerhouse of talent and a genuine soul. Those words, among countless more positive things, are but a taste of who Mama Frau is. I may have only known Frau since the latter part of 2024 but I can just tell she is the type of person who would travel oceans for people just to let them know she cares. She is so sweet, a motherly soul, and so very creatively inclined. To say I appreciate her is a complete understatement. She is a treasure, a precious “Gem”, and to know her is such a gift. The way she weaves her stories with intricate detail and just enough suspense to keep her audience’s intrigue is commendable and a remarkable skill. I am thankful beyond compare for you, Mama Frau. And I am so excited to get to know you even more as we walk further into 2025 and many years to come hugs
From @startissuu ♡
"Stop being so darn pretty before Chef is forced to travel to Germany and get down on one knee"
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fallbhind · 3 days ago
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oh boy sam how could u do this to me. no happy ending, your just oh so mean to me. i just fully woke up after shoving two hot chocolates in my system and some morning reading time, how could you hurt me so.
“‘i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner — i was afraid that you wouldn’t stick around. considering that..’ you paused. it developed into silence with tension that i could slice with a knife. ‘that..?’ i furrowed my eyebrows. ‘you can tell me anything — c’mon i wouldn’t leave you over something small y’know that rig —’ ‘i have morning sickness.. and i’m late on my period.’ ‘i think i’m pregnant, alec’” oh chawowwow bang what the freaky deaky, what an great way to start such an angsty dangsty fic. it’s just starting, felt it in my bones.
“it’s been five whole months. the news were shocking, that was for sure and i took a bit to grow used to that fact. especially since i had to come to terms that i was becoming a father. i didn’t necessairily have any experience, growing up in a laboratory could do that to someone. i mean, i was taught to be an X5, a soldier, a cold-blooded killer. i wasn’t dealt with the best cards since day one. and now i had to raise a child. the worst part was, i didn’t even know how. i never had a childhood, how should i give another tiny human one? one that’d have my genetics. the same genetics i was given from dear old manticore scientists.” alec being built as a cold blooded killer, my boy better suit up, my buddies gonna be a father, at least he knows that he gots to raise baby darcy. he’s got so much doubt in himself about being a father, he’ll be the best daddy out there, giving his kid a childhood.
“you didn’t even know i was a transgenic.” how could he keep such a big old secret from you.
“another one of them was hanging out with our friends. ‘we aren’t naming the baby darcy.” max butted in, shaking her head. “name him max.” she suggested, smirking and looked at you. “why should we name the baby max? are you the baby daddy?” i raised a brow as i asked the question. ‘no, but i’m gonna be his auntie and teach him all sorts of cool stuff.’ ‘cool stuff being.. riding a motorcycle and almost degloving your whole arm more than once.” i commented, a laugh escaping me. ‘we already have one badass we don’t need our little baby here to be another one who possibly gets killed in a motorcycle crash.’ you looked at me, then at max. ‘What makes you think it’ll be a boy?’ the questioned escaped your lips which made me focus on you for a moment, my eyes lingered over your visible bump and then your face.” darcy is a great name, but i defo leaned on max because she would teach darcy all the best motorcycle tricks, the special edition bag with the concussion on the side.
“i was a father. i had my own little mini me — mini us in my arms. her little wailing broke my heart until she calmed down in your arms — and then she was in my own. she was so petite and had the cutest eyes. they were filled with curiosity. i watched as she looked around, no clue in the world. it just made me want to break down into more tears. but i had to stay strong. for our baby. for you. and for our new little family.” oh how cute—i’m so happy, this is happy fiction(convincing myself everything is good, this is a happy fic)
“and i worry that i’ll be a bad influence on my little princess. make her keep others at arm length. because i want her to be like you. i want her to be independent and isn’t afraid to get what she wants. but what if i’ll be in the way of that —? and that causes her to hate me because she grew up to be just like me. a cold hearted soldier. what if she had enhanced abilities like him? and she would be an outcast all her life.” freak u sammy. the wording was literally was so perfect., ,,, BUT HOW COULD U CALL BABY DARCY AN OUTCAST. i’d love her to the best of my ability. 🤺🤺🤺 throw hands with anyone who decides to be an ass.
“she couldn’t cry because she’s been at it for more than an hour, and her little tear — engine ran out.” awh my poor baby’s tear engine ran out, my oh my give the child attention alec.
“i rocked her as gentle as i possibly could back and forth, my eyes focused on her. ‘oh my angel,’ i started, being careful to do it quiet enough so you wouldn’t stir awake. ‘come back — to me.’ ‘and i will love you.’ ‘'til eternity.’” gosh he’s atotalsweetatothepeaawithbabydarcy
“with time, i just felt like an awful father. especially now that you were out and about more often and i was basically a stay—at—home dad and i had a tear-soaked shirt from our baby in my arms.” he feels like a terrible father, though all babies cry a lot. oh and being a stay at home dad is such a cuteies poostie thingy i’ve seen yet.
“i shut the eye she was grasping the eyelashes from and squinted with the other, scrunching my face together. “attacking and pulling at my innocent eyelashes, are we? that’s very un-lady like, angel.” i scolded lightly — trying to focus on walking and not dropping her or the bottle before settling on taking a seat.” oh don’t scold her those eyelashes aren’t so innocent (I’m mad he didn’t tell reader about being transgenic crazy soldier).
“‘dah’ darcy babbled once more, squeezing at my cheek. ‘yeah, exactly, dah.’ i nodded and softly pinched her cheek between my index and thumb. ‘three months old and she’s babbling and cooing like crazy.’ you mentioned, my eyes flew to yours. ‘just like you.” i teased, laughing. ‘not true!’ you gasped. ‘in fact, very untrue!’” that made me laugh, actually. it did.
“darcy was five months old now. i was working my ass off to keep her sheltered and safe. i had a whole list of things i had to be very careful with before handling her. she was so miniscule and helpless, relying on both of us to take care of her. hence why i wanted to keep her as satisfied as possible — well.. as satisfied as you can keep a baby.. which isn’t as easy as other people might make it seem. although, today, i had a bottle of milk. so i was going in to feed her some more. and as i tried to put the bottle in her mouth, she looked confused before she started flinging her arms around and spat it out, her eyes filling with tears.” what did u do sam… what did u do sam I am with ur green eggs and ham???
““Dada..” She so desperately wanted my attention. She softened her expression into just a pout. “Dada!” She repeated, pointing at the sink. “Aba.” Back to her little babbles. She then formed her fingers into a C shape to make it seem like she was holding a cup to then signal that she wanted a glass of water.” understand the whirlwind i’m going through, she finally said dada and she’s drinking water not formula of shadooks i’m gonna bawl my little freaky to the deaky eyes put.
“Her hand was still so tiny in comparison to mine. But enough to be able to hold it in my own. And then I slowly moved to the sink in the kitchen in the same speed as DARCY moved, to not overwhelm her.” remember, deep breaths. deep breaths it’s not real you can’t actually have a child yet (immence baby fever)
“Careful, angel. Don’t fall!” I yelled, intensely watching her as she began to run around as fast as she could. I lifted my eyes off her for a moment and glanced at you. “I never expected to have a little family with you.. this soon. And.. see DARCY so happy with the.. pulse, trashy town and all.” I finally admit to you, watching as you glared at me. “Me either.” “She reminds me of you.” I mentioned, my emerald green eyes focused on yours. “And she reminds me of you, too.” i’m actually so happy she started running. she’s so gonna be flash 2.0
“I couldn’t say that one single word. It was too much. Saying that one word made it official. Too official. I just can’t — right? I should be protecting her. Not whatever i’m doing. I can’t. I should be fighting for her. No child should hear the word ‘Goodbye’. I am the worst father in the world. A disgrace. I got a gift, a blessing. My DARCY. And i’d be throwing it in the trash. They told me they‘re going to get her and. The ink was blotchy from there forward, making the words unreadable. Fingertips went beneath the next page, a moment of hesitation. You turned the page.” fuck if I’ve ever not punched air i’m punching it super hard rn. i need happy endings (pushing a psychotic break to bring me in a State Of Zen.
“SHES gone. I failed her.” who tf is cutting onions stwap it. it’s nwat funny. freak j sam making em go through this shit. freak u freaku
“The journal ended there. Confusion and fear filled you reading those pages. Why did he keep track of her since birth? Was Alec insane? Did he do something to DARCY? Those questions lingered in your head far longer than anticipated. You knew your little girl had been gone for a month or so. But Alec seemed too busy at the Crash, drowning himself in alcohol. Even though he never got drunk. You didn’t know why. It was fucking strange. You spent hours looking for her. And then you stumbled upon a box. Hidden in the ceiling in a little box in the corner. And you found thirteen journals. Each year — except seven had two journals he could write all 365 days in. But he highlighted some. Were those his favorites? Did he lose his shit and imagine someone came after your daughter when in reality, he was the danger all this time? You shook your head. You shouldn’t try to get conspiracy theorist on a guy who spent day and night showering her with love. He must’ve had a logical explanation. Right?” yeah he never got drunk ‘til his child disappeared tf. crying because i’m going through it rn and finishing this up is just a fucking roller coaset cos he didn’t write all three sixty five hundred days a year cos darcy baby is(not was cos i’m in denial) so important. he definitely lost his shit for not getting his shit together for nit writing all year long. i want alec w severe arthritis in both wrists.
“I didn’t fucking do anything to her! Why are you accusing me of such utter bullshit!?” Alec shouted, he was fuming. “I loved her to fucking pieces! That was the only wrong I did. I made those journals to read back incase I forgot anything!? Is that such a fucking crime?!” You stared at him. “Your last entry?” “If you wanna kep on with your conspiracy theories, what’s the fucking point?!” WHIPLASH. GET’ER GIRL !!!!! grchie chow, grrr chie chie. make him stop w “kep”ing those conspiracies
““I assumed you’d say that. Well, X5-494. You give me the child with legal rules or we will kill your family.” Alec stared at her in disbelief. “You wouldn’t kill a pregnant person —” She laughed, “Oh, no, I wouldn’t. They would, though.” She gestured to the men behind her. “The offer I give you is better than what others wanted. You see.. you can keep the child until the age of seven. After the seventh birthday, my men will get the child. And if you are lucky enough and the child is human.. you’ll get them back. However, if not, we’ll keep them.”” wtf i’m in such an emothing whisplash this hurts what the seven whiplashes???????
“He was on his knees, hallucinating his fucking daughter. He has lost it.” dw alec i’m currentlh loathing my fucking shit 2
“He paused. The thick maroon colored liquid was blending with the gray floor. He forgot how to breathe, his eyes welled up with tears. And then the guards brought him closer to the room. A bigger puddle of that thick, deep red colour. It was so vibrant — and it most likely came from his little girl. He had failed her. He was doomed to be a terrible father from the start.” i literally started balling. sam u need to do a part two &&. be like “SYCH BITCHES I GOT U” pretty please
In fucking concluded this shit is great but i balled the shit out of my eue balls.
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Oh My Angel ? — alec mcdowell
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— CONTAINS : girldad!alec | mom!reader | heavy angst | possibly implied child murder ( i do not condone murder nor is this fic in any way shape or form supporting it, it is fanfiction ) | grieving | description of blood | dont read the ending | afab!reader | i refer to reader as you
> PS. @a1ecmcdowell made me do it with her hey june fic ( which ghis fic is heavily ib by ). sorry in advance. + i didn’t proofread
— SUMMARY : an unexpected pregnancy falls onto you & alecs lap, causing you both to have a bumpy ride into parenthood due to the circumstances with The Pulse and your medical care — or well, lack there of. although, it doesn’t get any better when you two get to hold your baby.. it actually just gets worse — but you don’t know it.
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THE BEGINNING
I hadn’t expected to find out through Logan, of all people, that somethings been going on with you. He told me, in an unexpected way.. which was whilst I paid him a quick visit, that you’ve been feeling quite unwell, you told him but not me, already strange enough.. And he went on, said that you’ve been having ups and downs regarding your physical health. And, as any normal person would do, I worried.
But, it didn’t take me long before I went to your workplace. Jam Pony — where I worked, aswell. Except it was my day off.
Considering Normal was so very fond of me that I could take any amount of time off without him batting an eye. Being the Golden Boy came with its perks and flaws. Today it was most definitely a perk considering I could just waltz in and ask for you.
“Oh, right over there.” directed me to you with a point of his finger.
I immediately made my way to you, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached you at your locker, shoving some random things in there. “Hey.” I greeted you, my green eyes probably proving to you that I had something on my mind. “Oh.” You didn’t seem quite pleased to see me. You looked surprised — given the fact that it was etched into your expression.
“Don’t look too happy to see me.” I replied, the tone in which I spoke in had an edge of concern to it.
“No — no, it’s not you. I just thought you had your day off.” A moment of silence was exchanged between the both of us. “I do.” I sighed, pressing my lips together. “You don’t look too hot.” I pointed out, with furrowed eyebrows. “I just caught a cold, is all.” You answered. “You sure that’s it? Logan seemed to have other concerns.” I finally remarked, a scoff escaping my lips.
“He told you?!” I heard the pissed off tone in your voice. “Just ‘cause he knew you wouldn’t tell me.” I raised an eyebrow, “Care to tell me what all that is about?”
“Look.. I was meaning to tell you but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I just.. well, I thought..” You paused. “Can we continue this conversation somewhere where Max, Cindy and Sketchy can’t hear us?” I pretended to think for a moment. “Maybe.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You came here to talk to me and when I want too you tell me ‘maybe’ what is your logi —”
“Seems to me you still don’t know when i’m sarcastic, baby.” I stifled a laugh that threatend to escape my mouth. “Oh.. oh you annoying little —”
“I gotta stop you right there. You wanna go somewhere more private or do you wanna keep letting me provoking you?” And with that, you grabbed my forearm and dragged me into the backroom of Jam Pony. I waved to Max and Cindy on the way there. They — especially Max seemed uninterested which got a chuckle out of me.
And then the silence engulfed the both of us. “So..” I started, clearing my throat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner — I was afraid that you wouldn’t stick around. Considering that..” You paused. It developed into silence with tension that I could slice with a knife. “That..?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “You can tell me anything — c’mon I wouldn’t leave you over something small y’know that rig —”
“I have morning sickness.. and i’m late on my period.”
“I think i’m pregnant, Alec”
BUMPY RIDE INTO PARENTHOOD
IT’S been five whole months. The news were shocking, that was for sure and I took a bit to grow used to that fact. Especially since I had to come to terms that I was becoming a father. I didn’t necessairily have any experience, growing up in a laboratory could do that to someone. I mean, I was taught to be an X5, a soldier, a cold-blooded killer. I wasn’t dealt with the best cards since day one.
And now I had to raise a child. The worst part was, I didn’t even know how. I never had a childhood, how should I give another tiny human one? One that’d have my genetics. The same genetics I was given from dear old Manticore scientists.
You didn’t even know I was a transgenic. I wasn’t sure if you’d still love me or want to keep the child after that ( though, you couldn’t exactly abort it if you didn’t, because medical care was impossible to get after The Pulse ).. Because everyone would react completely normal if they’d get told that ‘our baby could possibly have enhanced abilities because of me, sorry!’.
On the positive side, you began to grow a baby bump. You were glowing. And I honestly tried my best to make this ride as stress-free as possible for you.
With my worst attempts, obviously. To name a couple, I sang Oh My Angel to your growing stomach, a couple lyrics i’ve heard from that song back at Manticore. I would also give you massages and joke around with you randomly and not to mention, tease you so you’d be more focused on being annoyed than the unhinged cravings you so badly wanted to give into.
Another one of them was hanging out with our friends. “We aren’t naming the baby DARCY.” Max butted in, shaking her head. “Name him Max.” She suggested, smirking and looked at you. “Why should we name the baby Max? Are you the baby daddy?” I raised a brow as I asked the question. “No, but i’m gonna be his auntie and teach him all sorts of cool stuff.”
“Cool stuff being.. riding a motorcycle and almost degloving your whole arm more than once.” I commented, a laugh escaping me. “We already have one badass we don’t need our little baby here to be another one who possibly gets killed in a motorcycle crash.” You looked at me, then at Max. “What makes you think it’ll be a boy?” The questioned escaped your lips which made me focus on you for a moment, my eyes lingered over your visible bump and then your face.
“Just a feeling, a girls gotta do when a girls gotta do.” She responded, crossing her legs. “She bet on it with Cindy.” Logan corrected, furrowing his brows. “I gotta get my money.” Max added, confident.
The same day, just a little later when Max left with Logan, I was making some pasta you told me you started craving. I wasn’t a chef, God knows I haven’t touched a pan in the entirety of my time on earth. But considering I had enhanced intelligence and I was a transgenic, it shouldn’t be too hard.
“DARCY ain’t a bad name, is it?” I eventually prompted, stirring the pot of raw pasta, picking it up carefully and making sure I strained the water. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” You answered me pretty simply.
I turned my head over my shoulder, my eyes meeting yours as you sat neatly by the counter. I then placed the empty pot to the side. “Meaning?” I prompted, eyes concentrating on you. “Well, I mean if we hold the baby in our arms, we’ll figure it out.” I processed your words, rolling my shoulders in a shrug. “I suppose.” I then continued on with the pasta.
“How come you’re craving pasta today? I barely see you eating any.” I eventually questioned, currently mixing the pasta with the sauce. “The baby asks, the baby gets.” You stated. “Well, I suppose this’ll be practice for our pasta-loving baby in your stomache.” I noted, my voice playful transferring the pasta to a plate. “I guess so.”
“A plate of pasta for the lady and the little one.” I finally said, picking up a fork and sliding the plate of pasta in front of you on the counter. I observed you picking up the fork. “You seem to be doing a lot of work.. research, too.” You mentioned, which was true. I had been reading up on random parental guide books and asking women with babies at libraries for advice, as awkward as it is.
“I guess I just don’t want to fail our little DARCY.”
DAY 1 / 2556
NEWBORN ADDED TO THE FAMILY
TODAY, our little DARCY was born. I held her little tiny body covered in an equally sized blanket. As anyone can find out pretty easily, we found out our princess’ gender. A little baby girl. She was so little I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. It was the biggest moment of both your life and my own.
I was a father.
I had my own little mini me — mini us in my arms. Her little wailing broke my heart until she calmed down in your arms — and then she was in my own. She was so petite and had the cutest eyes. They were filled with curiosity. I watched as she looked around, no clue in the world. It just made me want to break down into more tears. But I had to stay strong. For our baby. For you.
And for our new little family.
I was afraid. That was something I had to admit. I was afraid — what if I couldn’t be a good father? What if she needed something and I couldn’t give it to her — and you were exhausted so I take care of her and then she starts wailing and screaming — so I stand there cradling her and rocking her back and forth to no avail?
What if she grew up like me?
Became someone like me, a little arrogant and cocky version of me. And no traces of you in her. Apart from physical appearances — because she had your hair color.
And I worry that i’ll be a bad influence on my little princess. Make her keep others at arm length. Because I want her to be like you. I want her to be independent and isn’t afraid to get what she wants. But what if i’ll be in the way of that —? And that causes her to hate me because she grew up to be just like me. A cold hearted soldier.
What if she had enhanced abilities like him? And she would be an outcast all her life.
But then I look down at her in my arms. Her little tear-filled eyes looking up at me. She couldn’t cry because she’s been at it for more than an hour, and her little tear — engine ran out. You’ve been knocked out for a bit. So I spent time with our little baby.
“Hi.” I whispered, feeling my posture soften with her little head tilt to get a better look at me. “Who am I? Who is this big giant holding you in his arms and saying hi to you, little one?” DARCY looked confused which got a chuckle out of me. I never thought I would feel comfortable having a daughter and slipping into the role of a dad especially with my environment when I grew up. But she made it all worth it. All the pain led me down the path to have her.
“C’mon, don’t look at me like that.” I held her close and made sure to support her head as I stepped to the crib in the room, my shoes clanking against the hospital ground. “You got a judgmental glare, little lady, you’re gonna get grounded a bunch when you’re older with that look.” I playfully scolded DARCY with an unintentional parentese I hadn’t noticed I added.
She reached up with her hand barely the size of my fingertip and wrap her miniature fingers around my fingertip.
I felt my heart clench with just how adorable she was being. “I’m sorry, your highness. You win with that cute little move. I surrender. No ones gonna ground you, angel.” and then her eyes fluttered shut. “But I suppose we gotta get you all ready for bed, dont we?”
I rocked her as gentle as I possibly could back and forth, my eyes focused on her.
“Oh my angel,” I started, being careful to do it quiet enough so you wouldn’t stir awake.
“Come back — to me.”
“And I will love you,”
“ 'til eternity.”
“Oh my angel.” I bent over the crib, as cautious as I could to not drop DARCY too fast and make sure to place her down carefully, making sure to remove the blanket she was tucked in to then place ontop of her, so she could still move around. I noticed her little onesie from the hospital. My gaze softened and I watched her chest rise and fall before a quiet voice dragged me out of thought.
“And you were worried that you wouldn’t be a good dad.” You pointed out, I rolled my eyes whilst I turned around to face you. “I don’t know what you’re on about.” I spoke softly and acted clueless.
“Oh, sure you don’t. You totally fell inlove with her the moment you held her.” You murmured. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” I rolled my eyes and approached the side of the hospital bed, leaning over and placing a kiss on your lips. “You just pushed out a whole human from your body.” I mumbled, concern evident in my voice.
“Oh? Is Mr. Cocky concerned about my well-being?” You acted surprised. “Shut up.” I groaned. “You’re so annoying.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Funny considering I used to say that about you.”
“Is it too late to say I hate you?” I grumbled, pressing a kiss on your forehead.
“Pretty sure it is, yeah.”
DAY 84 / 2556
FIRST SMILE
IT’S been three months since DARCY entered our life. You’ve been working at Jam Pony on and off just helping Normal get packages to deliver considering you just wanted a breather so I decided to take care of DARCY. She’s growing so fast, it’s absurd. I honestly can’t keep up with her.
There are moments where I freeze due to not knowing what I could do to stop her from screaming and crying. It wasn’t often, but it also wasn’t rare. And it made me feel useless.
Because nine times out of ten, whenever I gave her to you, she’d be able to calm down in an instant. It was clear, you were her mother. I wasn’t, and she was spending nine whole months in your womb. But I just wanted to able to care for her without needing you to stop whatever you were doing just to help me out.
With time, I just felt like an awful father. Especially now that you were out and about more often and I was basically a stay—at—home dad and I had a tear-soaked shirt from our baby in my arms.
Though, I feel like I finally did something right. Today she’s been quite observant. Eyes locked onto my face as her hand lifted and she grasped at the fat of my cheek. “Oh — oh, sure I guess.. that’s better than having you crying.” I head to the couch with her bottle in my hand, shaking the baby bottle so the formula can mix well together. With me walking forward, placing one foot in front of the other and having the wooden floorboards creak or groan here and there, with her in my arms, she started to grab at my eyelashes.
I shut the eye she was grasping the eyelashes from and squinted with the other, scrunching my face together. “Attacking and pulling at my innocent eyelashes, are we? That’s very un-lady like, angel.” I scolded lightly — trying to focus on walking and not dropping her or the bottle before settling on taking a seat.
I sat on a beanbag in her nursery and slowly tried to pull her away from my face. I then leaned back on the back — rest part of the sofa and placed her little formula bottle on a nearby table.
My emerald green eyes focused on her. Now I had both arms supporting her tiny chest. She was wearing a soft red onesie with little yellow seed patterns around, like a little strawberry. I lifted her up and down. “Oh.. oh! And she’s taking off!” I gasped and had a very bad attempt at a sound effect of what was supposed to be a rocket taking off as I raised her up, her feet not touching my chest. “She’s up in the sky! And.. whoosh!” I turned her left and right.
“Now she’s coming back down..” I slowly settled her so her weight was supported by my hands and her feet on my chest, before I brought her face to mine. “And she’s getting kisses from her daddy.” I let my lips connect with the soft skin of her cheek, her forehead, head and basically everywhere on her face. “Gotcha!” I said, enthusiastically.
I pulled back DARCY a little to get a good look at her face and then I saw the corners of her tiny mouth curled up into a tiny smile as she swung her hands around from joy.
Her first ever smile. She was precious.
She babbled and giggled, her hands coming up to rest on my face. My emerald green eyes focusing on her emerald green eyes. She looked just like you smiling. She had everything in common with you, physically, apart from the eyes.
“Oh my god, that’s a little smile, isn’t it?” I felt my heart melt at the sight.
“And Mr. Cocky is no longer cocky but a big ol’ softie. Do I call you Mr. Softie now?” I heard you tease as my eyes shot toward you. “Oh — hey, you’re home. Also.. no idea what you’re talking about. Anywho.. well, I thought you had to work the night shift..”
“Normal freaked out when Max threatened to punch him, especially since he supposedly had a date and told us we got to go home earlier.” You explained, putting your things down. “How’s our little girl doing?” You asked whilst she pinched my cheeks and leaned forward, trying to mimic the way I gave her kisses earlier. “Happier than usual.” DARCY then babbled. “See, her highness agreed herself.”
“Dah” DARCY babbled once more, squeezing at my cheek. “Yeah, exactly, Dah.” I nodded and softly pinched her cheek between my index and thumb. “Three months old and she’s babbling and cooing like crazy.” You mentioned, my eyes flew to yours. “Just like you.” I teased, laughing.
“Not true!” You gasped. “In fact, very untrue!”
DAY 152 / 2556
DADDYS WORST NIGHTMARE ; TEETHING
DARCY was five months old now. I was working my ass off to keep her sheltered and safe. I had a whole list of things I had to be very careful with before handling her. She was so miniscule and helpless, relying on both of us to take care of her. Hence why I wanted to keep her as satisfied as possible — well.. as satisfied as you can keep a baby.. which isn’t as easy as other people might make it seem.
Although, today, I had a bottle of milk. So I was going in to feed her some more. And as I tried to put the bottle in her mouth, she looked confused before she started flinging her arms around and spat it out, her eyes filling with tears.
“DARCY? Angel, are you not hungry?” I asked, concern evident in my face. I got up and put the bottle to the side, going to her and I wrapped my arms around her, taking her out of the high chair and cradled her, supporting her head and neck. “Oh, honey.” I frowned as she wailed in my arms, her eyes squeezed shut and mouth open as shouts and cries escaped her. And I reached to take her bib off.
I stood up from the chair and started rocking her, “Princess, what’s wrong?” I whispered, her little arms still flung around as she kept her ear-piercing cry going. “Shh, shh.” I tried to figure out what she could possibly need. She was definitely not hungry. “Are you sleepy? Do you need to burp?”
Safe to say, the rest of the day was me panicking and running around the house, trying to figure out what on Gods green earth she could possibly need. Her cries didn’t stop, at all. Which just made me feel so helpless. My little princess just cried in my arms and I didn’t know how to stop it. God, what type of a father was I? Letting my baby girl cry on for hours.
And then I realized when I was exhausted and holding her in my arms in her little nursery, that teething could be it. I pressed my lips together and before I do something I researched about — because yes, I care enough to do research.. I washed my hands thoroughly, and made my way back to her nursery.
I bent over her crib and gently picked her up once again, she was still sobbing and clung to me. She was relying on me, so I had to do something about it. I sat on a chair, settled on it before making sure she was settled and comfortable on my lap.
Then I put my thumb in her mouth to gently rub her gums. They seemed swollen and that just made my heart ache. DARCY seemed to calm down just a little after I kept up the massaging for a little longer. It seemed to ease my worries, too because I finally felt like I could help her. Be her protecter like I had intended to be. Be there for her unlike me — who had nobody to turn too.
I watched as she opened up her teary green eyes and focused them on me. She seemed curious and still a little in pain, but she just looked at me with her little green orbs.
With a tilt of her head, I relaxed in the chair after what felt like ages. I was exhausted, that was for damn sure. I ran left and right and tried to figure out why she was screaming her tiny little lungs out just for it to be due to teething.
But it was worth it seeing her calm down because I helped her.
DAY 365 / 2556
FIRST WORDS AS A TODDLER
SHE was so little just yesterday — I could’ve sworn she was as big as my bicep just a couple days ago. She used to be a little baby crying over everything with those big tear-filled emerald green eyes. Always spitting out the food I tried to feed her. Refusing to cooperate whenever I tried to change her diapers or even confusing me when she cried for no absolute reason.. And now it was her first ever birthday. She was already moving her mouth as if she were about to speak.
I probably would’ve broken down into tears had I not wanted her to look up to me and wanted to think her daddy was brave. Even if she’d forget everything sooner or later.
Little DARCY already a toddler, running around and picking up random objects. Running back to me because she found something and then shows me how to use it ( visually, we aren’t exactly at the point of verbal yet, she’s still too young for that ). Then she’ll give it to me and wait for me to redo every step she did and then wait for her approval, meaning if I had to do it over again or if she was pleased and let me off the hook.
She was precious. Her little emerald green eyes looked like one of a does. They were so big and innocent. Especially with the fact that she was just barely reached a little more than my knees. She had your face — and hair color.. her skin was a mix of both yours and mine.
Today, she seemed impatient, tugging on the fabric of my pants. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had the cutest expression — where she tried so hard to look mad but ended up looking just so sweet. Her lips pressed together into a pout and her head tilted up to look at my face. “Mah..” She babbled, and I didn’t think much of it before she whined. “Dada!” And that made me pause.
“Dada..” She so desperately wanted my attention. She softened her expression into just a pout. “Dada!” She repeated, pointing at the sink. “Aba.” Back to her little babbles. She then formed her fingers into a C shape to make it seem like she was holding a cup to then signal that she wanted a glass of water.
I was able to compose myself enough to get what she wanted so she didn’t think I was neglecting her. But she said her first word. “Water?” She nodded and I crouched down just a little to grasp at her little hand. Then I felt her tiny hand in mine.
Her hand was still so tiny in comparison to mine. But enough to be able to hold it in my own. And then I slowly moved to the sink in the kitchen in the same speed as DARCY moved, to not overwhelm her. “C’mon, up goes the elevator.” I told her, crouching down fully and stretching my arms out as she let go of my hand to jump into my arms. Her tiny arms barely wrapping around my neck.
And then I wrapped my arm around her, supporting her body as I slowly rose to my feet, she gasped and giggled as I felt her wiggle her legs once they were off the ground.
I reached up and opened a cupboard, grasping for a cup and turning the tap on. “Cold?” She looked at me confused. “Coo — ld?” I said once again, but slowly speaking out every word before she hesitantly nodded. “Whatever you want, princess.” The water hitting the bottom of the sink repeatedly echoed in the silent room.
I reached forward with the cup and filled it with water. “Who am I?” She let one arm go to close and open her hand repeatedly, mimicing a ‘gimme, gimme’ motion.
“Dadaaa!” She huffed, very obviously annoyed with the angry expression. Which reminded him of you. “You two could be the same person.” He grumbled under his breath. “I am dada, yes, good job, angel.” I snickered and brought the cup to her lips. “Drink up.” I watched as her free hand grasped the cup that was bigger than her hand and try to hold it alongside my own hand. “Good girl.” I said, removing the cup from her mouth.
“Drank all of it so quick. You were really thirsty.” I commented, heading to a towel with her in my arm and wiping her mouth with it, all so carefully.
I then tried to place her back on the ground but she refused. “Bah.” She shook her head and I brought her back up into my arms, adjusting my hold on her. “But you’re a big girl, you can walk, princess.” She looked insulted, clearly. And then I laughed, which caused her to break her little act and cause a giggle to escape her lips.
She doesn’t even know the lengths i’d go to be able to keep that smile on her face.
DAY 730 / 2556
UNUSUAL BEHAVIOUR
SHE looked at me with her arms crossed over her chest. “No!” the word that she’s learnt from no other than you. You were being sassy to me and DARCY overheard, which then made her believe that she could be just like you even more and decide to go against my every word. Today being no different. She was throwing yet another tantrum. “You have to sleep, princess.” I was crouching and cupping her face.
“I not sleepy.” She pouted with furrowed eyebrows. “What if we snuggle, hm?” I suggested, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to think about it. “I can join.” You butted in, crouching beside me. “Whad’ya say, little miss?” I questioned, a grin on my face. “But.. blankie evil!”
We both exchanged a look between eachother. “Blankie evil? How? Tell us, we’ll protect you.” I said, slowly ripping my gaze off you and onto the tiny two-year old rascal.
“Blankie trapped me!” She whined. Which elicited an over-exaggerated gasp from me. “No! Really?” You added, jaw dropped. She nodded her head up and down in a quick motion. “Do you have a boo—boo?” I asked, my voice in a low whisper. “Boo—boo?” You bit back a laugh as you looked at me. “Shut up.” I said through gritted teeth.
“No..” DARCY answered my question pretty much quickly after. “And we’ll both be there for you and save you if blankie tried to trap you.” I told her, pressing a light kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes darted between both you and me. Her eyes brighter than ever. “Promise?”
I blinked, “I promise, princess.” I looked over to you. “I promise, too.”
I wasn’t expecting parenting to be easier than what I imagined it to be ( obviously, considering I was the one who thought that ). But in all honesty, I thought raising DARCY would be catastrophic. Explosions and world war breaks out. But I seemed to be doing well — so far. At least I hoped so. She seemed at ease around me. Or maybe that was because of you.
Because you’ve been doing a great job, honestly. It was shocking how well you kept up mentally and were able to stay strong — especially given the fact that you didn’t exactly have DARCY with your own choice. You didn’t have a choice because abortions were hard to get your hands on now — a — days.
I couldn’t help but think. Of course, you tell me I was a good father. But I simply just dropped the asshole act around her. She seemed to have loads of your characteristics.. which I was glad about.
And then I got brought back to now. I was holding her hand alongside yours as I head up the stairs — yes, stairs. I know my apartment doesn’t have stairs within the apartment but.. well, I may or may not have stolen some cash from a rich dude and bought a better house for DARCY to be able to live in. But hey.. no judging — i want
only the best for my little girl.
I watched as she struggled on a couple stairs before bending over slightly and picking her up, holding her close to my chest with my arm supporting her weight. I did almost slip.. and fall, but you holding my hand managed to balance me. “I will not be thanking you.” I replied, in a way more sassy tone than I intended. “Oh, okay, I hope you know I hear all that sass.” I rolled my eyes and kept going up.
“Good for you.” I heard you let out a laugh. “Your cocky and arrogant behaviour used to make me so mad — now it’s just funny because you’re so gentle. Who knew being a girl dad could change a man this much?”
“Uppie!” DARCY randomly blurted out whilst clapping her hands together and her eyes flew between me and you. “Yes, baby, uppie.” You replied, your motherese slipping out. “Says the one who became so freakin’ cute after having a baby.” I pointed out, a stupid grin on my face. Then I felt DARCY shift around in my arms once we reached her room.
“Look, daddys got you, princess, blankie won’t hurt you.” I reassured her, rubbing her back with my free hand and urged you to follow us into the room.
She looked around the room frantically, as if her blanket would come out and attack her. But, I read up and already knew kids could have irrational fears at her age. Hence why patience was all she needed including a bit of safety so she knew that she had nothing to be afraid of. “Can you grab her stuffed animals?” I whispered to you, slightly rocking my body back and forth.
“Mhm.” I watched you go around her bed and bend over, picking up her rabbit stuffie and dinosaur stuffie. “Look who’ll be joining us!” DARCY gasped. “Mr. Din-din!” I slowly lowered her on the ground as she rushed over ro your side.
“Mr. Car-car!” I crossed my arms over my chest and laughed. She was so happy about them it was absolutely heart-warming. She then raised her arms up at you, opening and closing her hands. “Me want up!” She pouted before you picked her up and handed her the two stuffed animals. “You gotta sleep, honey.” We both said simultaneously. “Otay..” ( that’s literally how she pronounced it, don’t make fun of me )
DARCY then got brought to her bed, you placed her down ever so gently. She seemed freaked about the blanket but nonetheless, I settled on the bed beside her alongside you on the other side of her. “Snuggles!” She exclaimed, grinning. And then I wrapped an arm around her, meanwhile you threw her blanket over all of us, yes, including the stuffed animals.
“Daddy..” She whined, grasping at the white fabric of my tee. You turned behind you to turn on her night light and then I focused on her. “Yes, princess?”
“Song sing..” I paused, “You want the song?” She nodded eagerly in response. My eyes shot to yours and you shuffled around on the tiny bed to fit yourself onto the tight space and cuddle up to her other side.
“Anything you want, princess.”
DAY 1095 / 2556
NEW THINGS GOOD & BAD
DARCY was playing around, as usual. A three year old should start to get around more and do things. I read that in a book — yes, I read when I want too. I am a transgenic and intelligent.. doesn’t mean I knew how to raise children. So, I sat down and I read a book about how children act throughout the years. I wanted to be the best daddy for my princess — or prince if DARCY were a boy, of course.
Speaking of her, she took me out of my train of thoughts. “Daddy! Look, that.. that is one tree!” She shouted, pointing at it, she was extremely proud of herself as she ran around on the playground. I was sat on a picnic blanket next to you. “Good job, sweetheart.” You shouted and clapped, cheering her on.
“Careful, angel. Don’t fall!” I yelled, intensely watching her as she began to run around as fast as she could. I lifted my eyes off her for a moment and glanced at you. “I never expected to have a little family with you.. this soon. And.. see DARCY so happy with the.. pulse, trashy town and all.” I finally admit to you, watching as you glared at me. “Me either.”
“She reminds me of you.” I mentioned, my emerald green eyes focused on yours.
“And she reminds me of you, too.”
I leaned forward, cupping your face, connecting my lips with yours, feeling you kiss back.
A shriek made me jump back, eyes wide. “What? —” You looked surprised, too. And my eyes searched around the park. My eyes landed on DARCY laying on the concrete, holding her leg in pain. I immediately sprang toward her, hearing you close behind me. “Angel, angel! Baby, i’m here, i’m here.” I reassured her immediately whilst dropping down onto my knees.
“Are you okay?” You asked, holding the back of her head and helping her sit up slowly. She had tear—filled eyes. “It hurts.” She whined, shaking her hands around and wailing in pain.
“Angel..” My eyes inspected her head, trying to see if theres any injuries there. I didn’t catch any so I inspected her legs, and then I noticed her pants torn open at the knee, she scraped her knee on the concrete. I hissed at the blood that stained the dark fabric. “It’s okay, we’re here. Y’know what, scratch me.” She shook her head. “I dooon’t— wanna hurt you.” She dragged out a couple letters due to her crying.
“Can you bring the medkit?” I asked you, raising an eyebrow. “You brought a medkit? ” “Just incase something like this happened. It’s in my bag.” I pressed a kiss on your cheek before holding up DARCYs head.
“It’s okay, daddy’s here and i’ll make sure it’ll all go away.” I whispered, easing her fears as I picked her up gently and placed her on my lap.
I watched as her emerald green eyes followed you as you ran back. You crouched down, opening up the medkit and beginning to scramble for items. “Sterile wipes for the wound.” I said, eyes focusing on DARCY. “Antiseptic for around the room.”
You gathered everything, “How do you even know all this? I didn’t know you studied medicine —” “Not medicine, just got a lotta wounds to patch up.” It was a half—lie.
DARCY winced when you began the cleaning but I tilted her head up, pointing at a bird in the sky. “Look! That’s a birdd.” I added some more toning to the word bird, and she looked curious. “Can birds fly?” “Yes, angel.” “Can we?” “With a plane.” “What is.. a plane?” “A metal box that can bring us places in the sky.” “Can we go on one?” “Soon.” I laughed at her suddenly forgetting about her wound and jumping to ask questions almost immediately.
“Has daddy had ouchies before?”
“Mhm.”
“Are ouchies bad?”
“I think of ouchies like.. you went through an adventure, the scar of an ouchie reminds you of it. Ouchies can be good and bad.” I tried to make her look at the positive.
“So.. is my ouchie cool?”
“It’ll heal and be the coolest thing ever.” I paused, thinking what to say next. Before I parted my lips, sucking in a breath, “New things can be good and bad. It just matters how you handle it, angel.”
DARCY looked at me with big, curious eyes. “New things.. can.. can be gooood and bad.” She slowly repeated, making sure each word was the same way I pronounced it, tilting her head. “New things.. can be good and bad!” She repeated, this time much more confident with how she said it.
“Exactly.”
DAY 1461 / 2556
PUDDLES AND RAIN
DARCY was just growing up — way too fast. I mean, I could just.. remember her being tiny and — her tiny fingers barely overlapping when they curled around my finger. And now here she was, going backwards and telling me too — “Look! Daddy. I can walk!” I laughed, nodding. “Backwards.” I corrected, crossing my arms over my chest.
We were quite a bit away from home since I picked her up from Logans place — since both he and Max offered to babysit so me and you had time for ourselves. And, lucky for us, it started raining when I had no rain jacket with me and brought one for her just incase.
So now I was soaking wet and having to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, like run onto the street and get hit by a car.
But the only stupid thing she was doing was genuinely just.. stupid toddler things. And I didn’t complain. That over — deadly stupid things. And she seemed to be having fun. Until — “Daddyy, can we dance?” I was baffled. “In the rain?” My voice was filled with surprise. “Pleasee.” Her tiny, high-pitched voice caused me to break.
“Fine.” And so I reluctantly agreed, reaching out and spinning her around in a puddle. As she stomped whilst dancing and proceeded to splash me with it. “Oh my god —” I bursted out laughing. “Oopsie..” She exclaimed, covering her mouth in surprise that she did that.
I rolled my eyes playfully.
“You’re such a little rascal.”
And she reminded me of you.
DAY 2191 / 2556
HEART OF GOLD
OUR little girl all grown up. Six years old was — an accomplishment. For me.. at least. Especially in this environment and.. the wages we had to live off of. You were still working at Jam Pony, full time whilst I went back to work on and off. Taking care of our girl was most important.
I always wondered how she grew up. Given the circumstances. I wondered if we — I fucked her up in some way.
Having a transgenic as your father could fuck you up in ways — you just wouldn’t notice. At least, until now, I found no trace of her being a transgenic-human mutant thing. Like me. Again, only thing we had in common, our eye colour nothing more, thankfully.
But God, she had a heart of gold. For example, we walked past a garden and she noticed an little boy upset. And she head toward her. “Hi!” She greeted, all cheerful and happy. That big grin displayed upon her lips. “Hi.”
“My name’s DARCY.” A moment of silence exchanged between them “Mine is.. Peter.” “Daddy told me being alone when sad isn’t always...what people want.” DARCY waited a moment before adding, “Do you.. want to be alone?” “No..” Peter replied. And with that, she stood there. And she began making conversation. She was smiling and giggling the whole time. Peter slowly joined along. Her laugh mingling with his in the air.
I was sure she made his day by being so warm and friendly.
Wonder how she got so wise.
DAY 2555 / 2556
GOODBYES
TODAY was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
I couldn’t say that one single word. It was too much. Saying that one word made it official. Too official. I just can’t — right? I should be protecting her. Not whatever i’m doing. I can’t. I should be fighting for her. No child should hear the word ‘Goodbye’. I am the worst father in the world. A disgrace. I got a gift, a blessing. My DARCY. And i’d be throwing it in the trash.
They told me they‘re going to get her and
The ink was blotchy from there forward, making the words unreadable. Fingertips went beneath the next page, a moment of hesitation. You turned the page.
DAY DAY 2556 / 2556
?
SHES gone. I failed her.
JOURNAL ENTRIES ; FINISHED
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WHAT THE FUCK?
The journal ended there. Confusion and fear filled you reading those pages. Why did he keep track of her since birth? Was Alec insane? Did he do something to DARCY? Those questions lingered in your head far longer than anticipated. You knew your little girl had been gone for a month or so. But Alec seemed too busy at the Crash, drowning himself in alcohol.
Even though he never got drunk.
You didn’t know why. It was fucking strange. You spent hours looking for her. And then you stumbled upon a box. Hidden in the ceiling in a little box in the corner. And you found thirteen journals. Each year — except seven had two journals he could write all 365 days in. But he highlighted some.
Were those his favorites? Did he lose his shit and imagine someone came after your daughter when in reality, he was the danger all this time? You shook your head. You shouldn’t try to get conspiracy theorist on a guy who spent day and night showering her with love.
He must’ve had a logical explanation. Right?
Tears filled your eyes. You prayed you were wrong. That you didn’t stay with the man who ultimately turns your life upside down for some sick reason.
And for DARCYS sake.
“I didn’t fucking do anything to her! Why are you accusing me of such utter bullshit!?” Alec shouted, he was fuming. “I loved her to fucking pieces! That was the only wrong I did. I made those journals to read back incase I forgot anything!? Is that such a fucking crime?!”
You stared at him. “Your last entry?” “If you wanna kep on with your conspiracy theories, what’s the fucking point?!”
STRAIGHT TO THE POINT
Alec glared at the men beside Elizabeth Renfro. “As you may know.. manticore was.. well, burnt to the ground. And I.. well, I made another one just incase.. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She trailed off topic due to Alecs disgusted yet surprised stare. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Max told you that? Did she ever bother to check my pulse before leaving?” She questioned. Alec went silent. “As I was saying. You’ve got a pretty little partner. Young.. sweet, inlove with you.” Alec scoffed. “Get to the fucking point you old shit —” “They’re pregnant.” “Surprise..? I don’t know where the fuck this is going.” Alec rubbed his temple in frustration.
“We want the child.”
“Over my dead body.”
“I assumed you’d say that. Well, X5-494. You give me the child with legal rules or we will kill your family.” Alec stared at her in disbelief. “You wouldn’t kill a pregnant person —” She laughed, “Oh, no, I wouldn’t. They would, though.” She gestured to the men behind her. “The offer I give you is better than what others wanted. You see.. you can keep the child until the age of seven. After the seventh birthday, my men will get the child. And if you are lucky enough and the child is human.. you’ll get them back. However, if not, we’ll keep them.”
“Fuck you, you sick bitch.” He spat, utterly disgusted by her. “We’ll send you the contract soon.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.” She said with a smile.
MY BABY
Alec stopped pacing, now leaning over the kitchen counter with his hands on his face. “I am a fucking transgenic. A human-like scientist experiment designed to be a fucking soldier. I escaped but manticore seemed to fuck me in the ass.” Alec ran his hands through his hair. “They made a deal to get her at seven years old. If not, they would’ve killed you.” He explained, not really caring if you decided to believe him or not, anymore.
“You’re insane.” You told him, with a shaky voice. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.” Alec was staring at the counter. All he could think of was his baby.
You immediately scrambled to get out of there. You grabbed a few vital things you needed before making yoir way out. “You should’ve helped her, you monster.” Was all he heard from you before his ears echoed the front door slamming shut. Now he was alone with his thoughts. Fuck.
“Daddy?” DARCY called out, heading to the kitchen. Her beady emerald green eyes focusing on me. “I lost my bag at school toooday.” She explained. Alecs gaze softened when his eyes landed on her. He lowered himself onto his knees to be eye level with her. “That’s okay, angel, we can get you a new one.” He reassured, tears filling his eyes.
“Are you okay, daddy? Why are you crying?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with concern when she should’ve been happy.
“I failed you.” He whispered, hands reaching out to her. “No you didn’t.” She shook her head and wrapped her tiny arms around him. “I love you, daddy.” And then the tears kept flowing. As he went to wrap his arms around her figure — she vanished. And everything seemed empty once again.
He was on his knees, hallucinating his fucking daughter. He has lost it.
OH , MY ANGEL
There was an empty promise I gave DARCY when she was still tiny. ‘I will always protect you.’ And it was outright nonsense. Because he knew from the start he had limited time with her. The journals were to honour her memory — incase..
But that wouldn’t happen. Because he was now going into the manticore building to see his little angel. Have her in his arms again. As long as they haven’t finished their testing — they allowed him to see her now. He wasn’t ready to see her. Seeing her trapped in the very place he was stuck in and so desperately wanted to get out of.
Max was waiting for him outside just incase. And he entered the freshly made Manticore building through the big.. doors.
Two soldiers guided him down the hall. He wasn’t sure what to feel when his eyes flew around the place. The place looked like a mental institution. White, glossy walls paired with gray, marble floor. His eyebrows furrowed in hesitation when a guard put a keycard into some sort-of machinery next to some metal doors.
Uncertainty filled him but he proceeded. Stepping forward. One foot in front of the other. Ever so carefully. His eyes darting around for any bad sign.
And he got what he was looking for.
His heart dropped. And his ears started having a high-pitched ring. The hallway that led to the room the guards brought him too —
Blood.
A path of blood. It was smeared from the room down the hall. It slowly started disappearing at one point.
He paused. The thick maroon colored liquid was blending with the gray floor. He forgot how to breathe, his eyes welled up with tears. And then the guards brought him closer to the room. A bigger puddle of that thick, deep red colour. It was so vibrant — and it most likely came from his little girl.
He had failed her.
He was doomed to be a terrible father from the start.
The song he sang to her seemed hypocritical now. Because it could be interpreted as him singing about her.
“This fire in my — heart,”
“consumes my — happiness.”
“Since we.. are apart,”
“I have nothing.. to hope for,”
“I have nothing.. to cling to.”
“Life for me — has no meaning darling,”
“if I have — to live — it without you.”
“Oh my angel,”
“come back — to me.”
“And I will.. love you,”
“ ‘til eternity”
“Oh my angel.”
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skimmingmilk · 2 days ago
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Any Shadow and Tails hcs?
Sorry this took a minute, anon! I had written up several headcanons a few days ago and then my browser crashed and I lost everything I wrote ^^;; it took a minute to find the motivation to write them up again. 
I wasn't sure if you only wanted headcanons of Shadow and Tails in relation to each other, or if you wanted separate ones for them as well, so I tried to think of a little of both! 
Shadow:
Though black coffee is his drink of choice, Shadow also enjoys a cup of rooibos tea when he's looking for something a little more relaxing. Decaffeinated coffee doesn't quite do it for him. And he only drinks his coffee hot. He judges Rouge whenever she gets an iced latte.
He's very good at painting nails, but only Rouge knows this. She's the only one he'll offer to do it for - and it's always in exchange for something like intel or tech. He learned how for the bad days where Maria couldn't keep her hands steady and got frustrated. He'd paint her nails so she could feel pretty.
Shadow likes Barry Manilow (this is mostly a joke xD …mostly). But seriously, I do think he enjoys listening to a wide variety of music though. He was limited to what tapes they had on the ARK, a lot of it whatever the scientists and Maria liked listening to, so he enjoys experiencing different genres of music just to get a feel for them. He doesn’t necessarily like all music, but there’s something to be said for just experiencing it, even if he doesn’t like it. He’s also intrigued by live music, especially since Maria was just starting to learn to play guitar when her parents sent one up with the supply ship for her twelfth birthday. That was the only experience he'd had with live music until arriving on Mobius.
Tails:
Though he drinks coffee, he does it out of pure necessity. His taste buds are still a kid's, after all, so he loads up his caffeine with sugar, flavored syrups, whipped cream, and marshmallows. When he discovers cold brew, he finds that a bit more palatable since the beans aren't made as bitter by the heat when roasting them, but he still needs flavors and cream. He actually prefers energy drinks if he’s looking for a caffeine boost, but coffee makes him feel more grown-up. Yes, even with the marshmallows.
He doesn’t read as much fiction as Sonic, but he does have a pretty large collection of comic books and graphic novels. There are some series he’s followed since he was little, which offer a bit of stability/familiarity for him when not much was a constant in his life aside from Sonic and fighting Eggman.
When he was little, Tails begged Sonic to teach him guitar. He was quickly embarrassed though, because it wasn’t something he took to naturally. They made a little progress, but as he got older he stopped asking for lessons as much, so Sonic assumed he lost interest. But sometimes when he knows Sonic’s not going to be around for a while, Tails will take out the guitar and practice by himself, though he never tells Sonic about it.
Shadow and Tails:
Shadow doesn’t actually have beef with Tails. When Team Dark came across Team Sonic in Sonic Heroes for the first time since the events of SA2 and started fighting, Shadow identified Tails as their aerial support and would save his teammates from falling into the jungle river. He also picked up on the fact that Sonic’s battle tactics focused primarily on protecting his team, and that he was holding back from full-out attacking Shadow. Part of him wanted to see that blue hedgehog’s full potential, though he couldn't really pinpoint why at the time. So it was a strategic decision to take out Tails first by kicking him in the head, nothing personal.
Scratch that, Shadow does have beef with him whenever he catches Tails drinking cold brew (this is also a joke lol, if he didn't fight the kid over putting marshmallows in his coffee, he's not gonna fight him over cold brew).
Tails has better accuracy than Shadow with a firearm, but Shadow is a quicker draw and has a faster reaction time. They both prefer to use non-lethal ammunition as a method of stunning opponents, though the Tornado and Cyclone do have lethal weaponry systems, however, since Tails often needs as much firepower as possible when going against Eggman’s air fleet. But those are just robots, so it's okay!
Tails is one of the few people who knows Shadow’s “birthday,” or at least, his “creation day.” He learned it by going through G.U.N.’s files when Amy asked him to, because she really, really wanted to know when his birthday was. He only looked it up after she promised not to throw a party for Shadow (she wasn’t going to, Tails, she just wanted to get him a card and a little gift!). Rouge is the only other person who knows his birthday - also from G.U.N.’s files - but she knows Shadow doesn’t want to be fussed over too much, so keeps everything low-key as well.
I think that's enough for now! I feel like I'm not as good at writing up headcanons independently as I am incorporating them into fics, but I hope this was along the lines of what you were looking for, anon! If you have more specifics hcs you're curious about, let me know :)
Thank you for the ask!
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drcomttheo · 24 hours ago
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Draco Malfoy x YN
summary: You are the first person who's been in his room.
warnings: Fluff, soft smut
words: 642
a/n: Excerpt from my fic "Inordinate Love" or find it on my ML that's pinned.
Slytherin Boy oneshots—ML
Slytherin Boy oneshots—AO3
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ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ
"You have a very lovely room, Malfoy."
I can't help but smile as I am walking around his room.
He has many pictures from his childhood. "You were also a very cute kid." I observe as I am picking up a small picture with a young Malfoy in it.
It seems like it was one of those photos that rich people get taken for their yearly family portrait. "Thank you." He says back with a soft chuckle and head shake.
I place the picture back in its spot, slowly making my way around his room until I find something familiar to me. "Why do you have a Venomous Tentacula in your room?" I question as I make sure just to pick up the pot holding the small version of a really big plant.
A Tentacula was spiky and red in color, and aside from the fact that I am deathly allergic to it, it is a toothsome plant with mobile vines that try to grab its prey.
It has many different purposes, as it also has many different properties.
"I think it's pretty, and I believe people tend to see all the bad in things and never really see the beauty in it." He smiled at his own comment as he was slowly walking towards me.
Now that I looked around, I noticed he had many plants around his room; they were not big or overwhelming. Just the right amount to suggest maybe he should have been a Hufflepuff.
I giggle to myself, hoping he can't read my mind because if he did, he would kill me for that comment.
I set the plant back down gently where I got it. "I am allergic to those, you know. In fifth-year herbology, when we were doing a research project on deadly plants, I just barely nicked my finger on a stinging nettle.
Professor Sprout found out very fast that maybe she shouldn't be teaching with them, as I had to be rushed to the hospital wing. I was out for days. Lucky to be alive, actually." I smile slightly.
"I am lucky you are alive too." He smiled at me sweetly, making his way over to me, putting both of his hands on my waist, and I met his brooding gray eyes.
"Are you done snooping now?" He asks in a joking manner. "Maybe, maybe not." I say, breaking out of his grip, walking away while running my fingers along his dresser to his desk.
He looked at me with an impatient look. "Okay. Fine! I am done snooping." I fired back at him, crossing my arms and kicking one foot out.
"You better be lucky. I like you, any other girl/boy." He paused. "Well, first, any other girl/boy would not have made it to my bedroom, and if they did, they wouldn't be here long enough to explore."
What was he saying? Was he saying I was special? Was he saying I was the first girl/boy in here?
I decided I would mess with him a little bit because I can tell how much it actually makes him happy. "Are you saying I am special, Malfoy?" I ask, lightly spinning in a half circle.
"That is exactly what I'm saying, Y/N." I was taken aback, mostly because I was expecting a sarcastic response. He was walking towards me again but with more lust in his eyes, and before I knew it, he had picked me up and placed me on the desk, pushing me against the wall and kissing me.
He delicately took hold of my face, his hands tenderly resting against my cheeks. Our lips met in a passionate yet tender embrace.
I held him close, my arms wrapped securely around his neck. His hands gently caressed the small of my back.
The kiss was intensifying, and our desire for one another was becoming more powerful.
One hand of Dracos traveled down my body as the other clenched over my breasts tightly.
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potionsformaya · 1 day ago
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𓏵 ˖ ⋮ emily davis headcanons. . ֹ ₊
❝ often a lack of confidence manifests itself as over confidence. . ❞
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this is part 1 of my emily headcanons, because she’s my angel and yet I never gush about her on here (smallest piece of angst somewhere in the mix but it’s like a: “must’ve been the wind” sort of thing.)
Emily isn’t exactly the biggest animal lover. She doesn’t like being around dogs (Sam’s dog likes to chase her when she’s comes over. Now she demands it gets put outside when she visits.), and cats are more tame (Ashley’s cat falls asleep in her lap, and she awkwardly pets it) but she wouldn’t want one as a pet. She does, however, have a soft spot for rabbits.
HATES losing. The sorest loser you’ll ever meet. Falling second place is enough to make her go crazy. It doesn’t even have to be anything academic or sporty. Losing to someone in a game can also ruin her day.
Being a mathlete, she sticks out like a sore thumb when grouped together with the other mathletes because most of them are on the geekier side. But despite her sour attitude, she’s managed to befriend a handful of them.
Even when she and Jessica were friends, she always felt like she had to be better than her in some way. Jessica being more out there and popular because of her brash and extroverted attitude, Emily felt as if she couldn’t keep it. While everyone was drooling over Miss Homecoming Queen, it was always a hit or miss with how people felt about Emily. It was always “she’s too bitchy” or “she’s okay”, no in between.
When Emily started dating Matt, she put on this flirty, suggestive persona just in case there was a chance of him leaving her for the same reason Mike dumped her. Being “too frigid”. However, Emily is still insecure about her performance in the bedroom due to Mike making it pretty clear she wasn’t his best experience.
Emily can be a bit bitter, but she’s never been all that serious. The smallest things are enough to tickle her, including her own jokes.
When around adults or authority figures, Emily is a completely different person. Very respectful and and well mannered. The first time she visit Ashley’s house, she went from ranting to Ashley outside the door, to having a polite conversation with Ashley’s mother in the living room.
Emily did in fact feel guilty for the prank they pulled on Hannah, and had zero intentions on going back up to the lodge. After a talk with Matt and thinking about how much it probably meant to Josh, she caved in.
Emily realized her eyesight was getting a tiny bit bad when she was only two seats away from the board and still couldn’t exactly make out what it said. If then became concerning when she was beginning to have a hard time reading up close, Sam told her she was going to have to get glasses sooner or later, but Em kept putting it off because she felt glasses would make her look dorky. She secretly ordered some online, and the prescription glasses were a little chunky and thick. She only wears them in the comfort of her own home.
She actually loves giving gifts on special occasions. And she’s loaded so her gifts usually aren’t that casual. She likes spending money on her friends to see their faces when they open up whatever she got them.
She doesn’t exactly have a fear of roller coasters or rides, they just make her sick every single time. And if you’re not fast enough, or you’re unlucky enough (like Chris), you’ll end up in the spray zone. 
She topped Chris’s high score in DDR.
Emily got stuck in an art class as an elective. She hated every minute of it and she’s great at everything, but her art skills, not so much..
Ironically, Emily can be one of the most sensitive people you’ll ever meet.
She loves teasing and messing with her friends, but when it’s done back to her, she’s thrown off completely.
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homestuckreplay · 2 days ago
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Seeking Friends (MUST be named John)
(page 1129-1136)
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tiny jade tiny jade we got tiny jade!!!! look at them both <3
Unfortunately this is now a Grandpa Harley hate blog. That ridiculous amount of force used to kill a butterfly. (a transgender butterfly at that!!) The unnecessary show of power and dominance. And for what? To show a small child that destruction of life is his idea of fun? No wonder Jade has such a refusal to hurt animals – I feel like she’s associated with life and growth while Grandpa is associated with death and destruction. Like on the one hand, having to handle her grandpa’s death at a young age and being the only one around to clean up and stuff the body must have been incredibly traumatic for Jade, and being alone ever since can’t have helped. But I don’t think she’d be doing much better if he’d lived! This is not a tragic situation where Jade almost had a good guardian! In fact, Jade regularly acting like her grandpa is still alive could come from him being SO omnipresent and overbearing while she was alive that she never really spent any time without him, until he was entirely gone.
Although I’d say Bec is already acting like Jade’s actual guardian, as he’s clearly the one taking care of her while Grandpa is destroying the beautiful landscape with his inappropriately large firearms.
We still have all scenes occurring on a beta kid birthday, but there’s no year on this one. What does Grandpa Harley think is the right age to introduce Jade to the thrill of the hunt? Probably way too young, but Jade can already read well as she has no trouble with John’s note, so I’m gonna say this is her 6th birthday. December 1, 2001.
Unfortunately you cannot open it yet! This package has an important journey to make first. You are planning on delivering it momentarily. Good thing you already know what's inside. Otherwise you would surely be consumed by curiosity and suspense. You sincerely pity anyone who might be forced to endure such a fate. (p.998)
The reveal of Jade’s package is really cute. I think the above quote is intentionally hinting that Jade knows what’s in the package through the power of Prophecy and Visions, but it’s actually the more mundane (kind of?) reason – she already opened the gift years ago! And inside we get the fabled ‘dear jade,’ page, completing the set, plus a note that contains SO much beta kid lore that I’m so excited about.
Jade wears blue and takes up gardening because she receives this package, creating a stable time loop around these interests. This Blue Slime Ghost shirt could be the first shirt used to make the wardrobifier, as young Jade is wearing a plain shirt.
We don’t know when Jade started seeing dream visions, but from her reaction to John’s letter, there’s no indication that she thinks about things in the weird past/future, seeing herself as an agent of the timeline way that she thinks in 2009. I would bet that this is the beginning of her relationship with predestination. I also think this might have caused her to wake up on Prospit, as she’s been contacted directly by the future, and this makes her more open to temporal communication
John thought he was going to be so late with Jade’s present when he remembered how far away she lives, but he actually got it there incredibly early, so huge W for John. (and an even bigger W for the heroic mail carrier PM). Jade’s response was ‘john thats ok really! im sure will get to me exactly when it needs to and it will be a nice surprise when it does!’ and she was right. The gift was definitely a nice surprise, as tiny Jade had no clue it was coming, and if it prompted Jade’s interest in gardening and potentially her visions – a key source of guidance for her especially after she loses her grandpa – then it did happen at exactly the right time. I like the idea that all of Jade’s weirdness was prompted by the seemingly most normal character.
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John has NO supernatural awareness in this letter, and is totally stumped as to why Jade’s pumpkins are disappearing – but he’s listened to her when she’s talked about her gardening woes, and his ‘i'm sure you know the fun is in growing them and taking care of them until they're ready’ is a good read; it feels like something Jade herself would say. And John gives Jade a shirt that not only matches his, but is ‘way more awesome’, so he’s really putting her first. There is something about John’s gift to Jade that feels somehow lesser than his honestly inspired gifts to Rose or Dave – it ended up being really impactful, but wouldn’t have been if she had received it in 2008, where it would’ve just related to her existing interests. But I understand that, because sometimes when someone is THAT important to you, it’s impossible to represent that with a physical gift.
John also went to a store, and to the post office! I feel very vindicated because I find the idea that John does leave the house and interact with other people but still feels alone, alienated and ‘homestuck’ way more compelling than the idea that he’s literally never left the house and yard or spoken to anyone outside his family. Similarly, he signs all the notes to his friends with ‘(john)’, so he wasn’t literally named on his 13th birthday - ‘it is only today he will be given a name’ is more a statement about independence and coming into his own. I like this official confirmation that some of the video game aspects aren’t meant to be taken literally, and I think it opens up more angles for interpretation in future.
Finally, we learn that John met Rose and Dave through Jade! So either Jade was the common link that met all three of them individually, and then brought the group together, or John and Jade were friends and Rose and Dave were friends, and Jade united the pairs. I think the first is more likely, as having received this letter, Jade will be on the lookout for friends named John, Rose and Dave, and may get hints to her meeting them when she starts seeing visions on Prospit. As usual (but also for the first time), she will have a head start while everyone else is oblivious.
As if the Package storyline wrapping up wasn’t proof enough, the adventure map shows that we really are at the end of act 3. I cannot wait to see how the act ends and where the story will go in act 4.
> Jade: Tie giant shirt around yourself like a wizard’s cape.
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chameleon66 · 18 hours ago
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Ticklish tornado; An epic battle
Author’s note: About a week ago I got asked to write a tickle fanfic for Pomni and Jax and I have to say I had a blast writing this. I never really thought much about Pomni before but writing this helped me get to know her better (and of course I had fun writing Jax) So if any of you reading have a suggestion for a tickle fic for any characters from Sanders sides, Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, Murder Drones, or The Amazing Digital Circus then please send in your ideas and I may write them (Won’t promise anything though). Also this can be read as romantic or platonic. With that being said, enjoy your reading.
Word count: 2535
Warnings: Tickling, Teasing, Mild touch aversion, Anxiety, Negative spiraling, Jax being a mischievous little bunny, angst, (Let me mknow if I need to add anything)
How many adventures must one go on to get used to this wacky place? Pomni thought as she walked through the portal Caine had opened up for them to go back into the circus tent.
It had been another crazy adventure of surprises, traumatic events, and trombones, and Pomni was feeling the drain from it. Not only did she feel exhausted but she also felt her anxiety racing in each of her fast heartbeats and rapid breathing, each movement around her felt like an abrupt explosion with her brain feeding her thoughts that did the opposite of soothing her troubles.
Will I ever get to leave this place? Does my family know I’m gone? Does anyone in the world miss me? How long has it been since I put on this headset? The digital world became increasingly drowned out to Pomni as her anxious thoughts began to snowball.
She was acutely aware of everyone sitting down in the couch area with her muscle memory being the only thing to pull her to sit down on a couch alone, away from everyone else. Whatever they were talking about was a distant murmur.
Her chest felt tight, her vision felt hazy, and her stomach felt like it was trying to digest itself. Pomni was indeed spiraling and like with most cases she didn’t know how to bring herself back.
Time passed, or maybe it didn’t? Pomni couldn’t be sure anymore. When the snap of fingers in front of her face seemed to pull her out of her spiraling thoughts and suddenly she was back on the couch with a close up of Jax’s face jumpscaring her.
“Ahhh!” Pomni screamed quietly as she flinched back.
“Oh good, you’re still alive.” Jax stated assured, while moving out of Pomni’s face and behind the couch.
Pomni then watched him walk behind the couch then lean both of his arms down then rested his head on them all while looking at her.
“How long have I been sitting here?” Pomni asked.
“If I had to guess~.” Jax dragged out the last word as he looked skyward in consideration of his answer. “About four hours.” He shrugged.
Pomni only sighed, even if Jax had been there far longer than her, how could she trust his ability to keep track of time?
“Everyone else checked in for the night.” Jax clarified, tha mean’t it was only her and Jax here.
“So~ something on your mind or is staring out into space with your eyes going on all scribbly scrabbly just a new hobby of yours?” Jax titled his head at Pomni waiting for her answer.
Pomni hesitated, her and Jax had never been close, in fact no one was close with Jax. Mostly because he bullied everyone and just generally made everyone feel uncomfortable.
Though he had seemed pretty nice back at Spudsy’s when he got back from…wherever Gangle had sent him off to and they had a short exchange, where he didn’t even try to joke or make fun of Pomni, so maybe part of him wasn’t all that bad.
“It’s just been…a lot, lately.” Pomni’s voice dropped in volume while talking just out of habit but Jax seemed to have no problem understanding.
“How so?” Jax pushed further. Pomni supposed if Jax got mean she could just ditch him and hide away in her room.
“Just - the idea of being here forever and missing out on everything life has to offer, you know.” Pomni wrapped her arms around herself before continuing.
“My whole life was just taken from me, I’ll never see my family again, I won’t ever die because that’s impossible here! But at the same time I won’t ever get to live because I’m trapped here for eternity! OR AT LEAST UNTIL I COMPLETELY LOSE IT AND ABSTRACT, THEN I’LL BE THROWN INTO THE CELLAR TO BE FORGOTTEN ABOUT BY EVERYONE-.”
“Pomni!” Jax yelled, stopping Pomni’s ranting. “Ok short stuff, I want you to take a deep breath.”
Pomni didn’t realize until then how audibly she had been hyperventilating so she did as told and inhaled as much air into her as she could then holding it.
“Now let it out. Slowly.” Jax instructed and Pomni did so, they repeated the process five more times before Pomni felt remarkably better and Jax saw the change too as the next thing he asked was. “Feel better?”
Though Pomni still felt heavy with worry she hummed with a nod giving Jax the answer he wanted.
“Good. Now I know it’s easier said than done here but try to relax. You don’t have to worry about a problem that doesn’t exist yet.” Jax hopped over the back of the couch and laid back beside Pomni sighed as he sunk back into the cushions.
Pomni fiddled with her gloves and her body refused to comply with the idea of relaxing as her muscles were still tensed and brain kept trying to throw her back into her anxious spiral despite her best efforts to think about something else.
“You’re not relaxing.” Jax cracked open one eye to look at Pomni who was visibly not relaxed with her tensed posture, leg bouncing under her, and her eyes fixated on her gloves.
“Ugh! I can’t help it, how can I possibly relax in this f#%king place!” Pomni exclaimed to the empty circus tent.
Jax had to admit she had a point, relaxation was a skill one had to master after coming into the circus and there was really no such thing as being completely relaxed, but if anyone needed to learn how to it was the chronically anxious and traumatized jester girl.
“Do you need some help?” Jax asked only to get a suspicious side eye from the jester in return.
“What are you gonna do?” Pomni asked back clearly, not sure of any idea Jax had.
“Oh chill Jingle bells. I’m not gonna try anything, I just wanna help out a friend. It's so hard to believe.”
“Yes.” Pomni said flatly.
“Fair enough, but this time I swear I just wanna help.” Jax smiled at her. This had a bad idea written all over it but Pomni decided that if Jax really was just gonna prank her or something then at least it'd take her mind off everything.”
“Fine, but don’t even think about trying anything.” She warned the rabbit.
“Alrighty then.” Jax stood up from the couch and went back behind it, leaving Pomni’s line of sight. She felt a little uneasy about this but tried to keep her mind calm.
Pomni then felt the pressure of two hands on her shoulders, her initial reaction was to flinch at the contact then immediately feel her skin prickle under her jester outfit.
She was close to asking Jax to stop whatever he was doing but then he started rubbing his fingers into her muscles and immediately Pomni eased up. While physical contact was something she had a love hate relationship with she was enjoying the pressure and warmth of Jax’s hands on her shoulders rubbing slow gentle circles with each of his fingers.
She could feel Jax smirk behind her as he continued rubbing her shoulders but she didn’t find it in herself to care, right then she tried to focus on the good things because that’s what had worked for her so far, holding onto the good things she remembered and from in the circus.
Reassurance from Ragatha, games of chess with Kinger, the pretty stars at night in the sky, no longer having to deal with–
A sudden shock moved through her nervous system as she felt a squeak involuntarily come from her mouth.
Her hand flew to cover her mouth as her tension suddenly returned with a bite. She realized that Jax’s hands were no longer on her shoulders but near her mid back around her ribs, he had probably just brushed against them but it was enough to create a ticklish sensation.
“Pom pom?” Jax hummed. He knew it, the jig was up.
“Yes?” Pomni answered back in the most hesitant way known to this digital world.
“Did I just hear you squeal like a little chubby piglet?” Jax’s grin was a mile wide, he knew what he heard, but he’d never give up the chance to fluster someone.
“Umm…” Pomni stuttered but lying would do her no good in this situation. “Yeah…”
“Don't tell me you’re ticklish~.” Jax was now wiggling his fingers at Pomni only succeeding to make her even more unnerved.
Pomni was stuck and no words were coming out of her mouth to try and defend herself against the claim.
“I’m not hearing a ‘No’.” Jax’s hand went back into Pomni’s ribs though she did see how he left the window open for her to push him away if she didn’t want it.
But once the first notes of Laughter rang through Pomni’s body she let her body go limp. She hadn’t thought about it but it had been so long since she had truly laughed. She recalled how laughing supposedly released hormones that make you happier.
She wasn’t exactly too sure how biology applied to the digital circus as biology and technology were two very far apart subjects but she certainly felt a little lighter than before.
“Aww! Look at the cure face you’re making.” Jax cooed at her. She was trying to squirm away out of instinct but Jax took the chance to jump over the back of the couch and over her to keep up the tickles.
Pomni’s face was now significantly red even though she hadn’t been holding her breath. The tickling sensation over her body was at the same time too much and too little in some paradoxical way.
“Jahahahahahahaxx, you M@H@H@Th$$RF###%%%R!” Pomni’s laughter even though the profanity censor was still present which only encouraged Jax to rile her up.
“Pom pom, how come you’ve never told anyone you’re ticklish?” Jax’s eyes were completely trained on her and her reactions to each spot, boy he loved getting reactions out of the others.
“Quhuhuhuhit teheheheheheheheheasing meHHEHEHEHE.” Midway through her sentence Jax‘s hand got in her armpit which caused her laughter to intensify greatly and she found herself getting a little overwhelmed by the stimuli.
“But you’re so much fun to tease.” Jax made a pouty face at her but then his signature grin reappeared as he focused one hand to tickling her ribs while the other tickled her armpit.
It was quite odd how not much effort behind the tickles was needed on his part. Seemed Pomni was quite sensitive to light stuff.
If her memory didn’t lie her pits were always a bad spot for her and she didn’t know how much longer she could take it there. Then she got a devious idea.
Pomni realized nothing was stopping her from fighting back. In fact Jax hadn’t even pinned her arms and hands down anywhere, he had just let them try and deter his hands from their tickle assault. Huge oversight on his part, as he would soon learn.
Through her laughter Pomni found it in her to reach out fast as a bullet and latch onto Jax’s waist and gave it multiple squeezes.
Jax let out a squeal of his own as his body went limp like a noodle overtop of Pomni. She turned the tables on him as she pushed him back into the couch and scratched much more ruthlessly at the front of his overalls
She took the chance and went for his stomach which earned her a stream of non stop chuckles.
“F$$$$%%%%K Pohahahahahahm Poahahahahaham! Nohohohohohohoho!” Jax’s attack on Pomni had been put on halt as his hands now tried to grab hers. His smile now miles wider.
“Aww~ Is the big tough bunny too sensitive to take what he gives?” Pomni put on her baby talk which only succeeded in making Jax’s laugh even more squeaky. He sounded like he was an actual rabbit who was getting loved on. It was just as adorable as it was hilarious.
She was frankly amazed that he hadn’t thrown her off him yet since he was like twice her height and she weighed about as much as a baby kitten according to Caine
Feeling eager to experiment with her new found power over Jax, Pomni went up to his ears and stuck one finger into one of them and began to swirl it around. Jax lost it.
His laugh grew ever more sporadic and uncontrolled and he began kicking his feet too. Though it seemed his ears provoked the same reaction within him as Pomni because he went on to go right back into Pomni’s ribs while Pomni Hands clung onto his ears continuing her retaliation.
They continued going back and forth for a while after that with each of them taking turns pushing the other one back into the couch and gaining the upper hand from them. They couldn’t even tease each other through their shared laughter.
At one point they had both even fallen off the couch and were both just on a floor still laughing like they were high on helium. After a couple minutes both of them were now just laying on the floor together giggling and smiling.
After everything went quiet for a few seconds when Jax spoke up. “So, that make you feel any better?”
Pomni sighed “Yeah, it- it did. Thank you Jax.”
“Yeah, yeah don’t get all mushy on me Jester. Just do me a favor and don’t tell the others about this, I don’t need them thinking I’ve grown soft.” Jax shook his head.
“Aww~ Does that mean you’re going soft for me?” Pomni broke out her baby talk voice again seeing how much it embarrassed Jax before.
“Hah!” Jax huffed out a fake laugh as he flicked one of the bells in Pomni’s hat. “In your dreams Jingle bells.”
Oddly enough Pomni laughed too.
Both of them said their goodnights and went back to their respective rooms both oblivious to the four sets of eyes that were secretly watching them from around the corner.
Ragatha felt like her heart was about to burst at the two’s cuteness, Gangle was scribbling down notes for her next tickle fanfic for her OCs, Zooble was smirking on the inside they planned to use Jax’s weakness against him the next time he tried to steal their limbs. Meanwhile Kiner was facing away from the group staring off into the hallway wondering what they were all looking at.
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dubia-015 · 2 days ago
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GAH ITS SO GOOD ALREADY SAILPLANE MANTIS AAAAAAA
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also an invitation? to talk about MY bug ocs? with the cool art person that I follow? someone pinch me
Allow me to take this prime opportunity to yap about my oc's hehehe Technically the first two aren't transformers but they are mech pilots soooooooo close enough right?
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BEHOLD: Swift, my pink thing that I love
As you can see by the name and theme of this blog, Swift is quite near and dear to my heart. 💖
They are the pilot of a Dubia class mech, which means most of their job is excavating survivors out of buildings and getting them to safety after an incident (they live on a space colony that regularly gets attacked by giant space monsters called bone worms, its a whole thing).
Their design is inspired by two different species of cockroach: the Dubia Roach and the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach! The little horn nubs on Swift's helmet and mech come from the Madagascar hissing roach, and name and shape comes from the dubia roach.
I've always had a soft spot for these two roaches (fun fact! I've held the hissing cockroach before, they are very sticky lolol) and its great to have them integrated into a design like this.
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Alright up next we have: Megan, the butterfly mech pilot!
Butterfly mechs are the satellites of space colonies mech rosters. They float around and collect copious amounts of information about anything in their range, from valuable minerals, to hoards of bone worms. The tech that allows them to hover around weightlessly makes them pretty flimsy in a fight, so they definitely take a supporting role in battles.
Butterfly mech pilots are highly intelligent and meticulous, and Megan is no exception. She was Swift's best friend, that was until she went out on an observation shift and got attacked by a bone worm. The mech was never found, but its pretty clear what happened, at least to Swift (I miss my wife tails moment).
Obviously her design is inspired by butterflies, though not a specific one. Her initial design had swallow tail butterfly wings, but they just made the silhouette to hard to read so I just went with default butterfly design instead. She is actually an old design that i recycled for this little story of mine. All the mechs in this world are bug themed, and i'm very excited to share more designs in the future (wait till you see the scorpion mech hehehe)!
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Last but certainly not least, my Transformers Earthspark oc, Lemondrop!!
He is a food truck that serves humans, cybertronians, and terrans free beverages, and is exceptionally passionate about proper hydration. He wants to know everything and anything that can assist him in his quest to adequately hydrate the public, from cybertronian medical literature to human cookbooks.
Lemondrop is what happens whenever a strawberry lemonaid slushie and a rosy maple moth fuse into a robot! I love the pink and yellow of the rosy maple so so so so so much, and Lemondrop also gets the wedges on his helm from the moth's antennae.
To truly demonstrate the depths of my obsession with the lemonaid robot man, i have begun construction of a plushie! Still a WIP but i figured i should share anyway (i am running out of cream help).
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Alright that's all the bug robots I have for now, this was a long post so thank you for reading!
And remember:
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*skitters away*
everybody loves my Bug Swag
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mellow-plum · 1 year ago
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"Dear Eliza, this is something I should have said a long time ago. I love you."
Miss Scarlet and The Duke (2020-)
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memento-morri-writes · 3 months ago
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I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:
tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries
He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.
#morrigan.text#my writing#dnd writing#oc: Rook#oc: Zara#Poor Zara.#she's gonna feel so fucking guilty about everything that's happened to him in the last 3 years even though it's not her fault.#yes she pissed off Wolf but she had no way of knowing Wolf would go after Rook instead of her.#(I don't even know what she did to piss off Wolf. That's the Big Reveal that's going to happen when Rook sees her again.)#but yeah. Seeing him like this and knowing/thinking that it's because of her actions... it's going to destroy her and that kills me.#I don't know what she did but I *do* know that she never intended for Rook to get hurt. She loves him too much for that.#but Rook could never blame her for anything. He'd forgive her just about anything. And that will probably only make her feel worse.#Rook and his mentors will never ever fail to fuck me up big time.#his undying devotion and naive faith in them which is such a stark contrast to his usual distrust of people.#and it gets him hurt every time even though the don't *mean* to hurt him. But Sigmar's case was definitely much more malicious than Zara's.#this reunion is going to be such a huge turning point for Rook's character and his personal development as a character.#well really it's a combination of things all happening at once that are going to be the turning point.#1) the fact that the party rescued him from Wolf which has literally no other explanation than that they love him and care about him.#2) seeing Zara again and finally getting that closure that he never got three years ago plus being to reestablish the most important#relationship in his entire life. Plus she's just a good influence on him all-around a much-needed source of support after Sigmar's betrayal#3) getting gifted the Tide Breaker (Zara's old ship) and having to learn some responsibility for once in his life will be very good for him#and I guess you could also say that 4) my temporary character Val talking some sense into him has something to do with it lmao.#but we'll see how this all plays out bc while I know these things are going to happen they technically haven't happened yet.#I'm not gonna RP the conversation between Rook and Val bc it would just be me talking to myself for a long time but I am gonna write it up#when we get to that point so I can show it to the DM so he knows what they talked about. Plus it will be a very fun exercise bc Val was#literally designed to be Rook's opposite in just about every way. They're very wise and responsible and Rook is a reckless idiot.#(but I love him anyways.)#So it's gonna be fun to balance writing both of them in the same conversation.#anyways. these tags are SO FUCKING LONG already. If you read this far I'm giving you your favorite dessert and a hug if you want it.#and also pledging you my undying allegiance for life. <3
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c0rpsedemon · 11 months ago
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oh yeah. the reason why i decided to reread tbhk (and thus it was able to hit me like a truck this time around) was actually not bc of mitsukou going canon but actually bc i maybe accidentally started a tbhk book club w my kids at work and wanted to check the contents of it justttt in case before i put the books in their hands
#tl;dr i have this one 4th grade boy who's a total weeb and knows that i'm the only one in this town who's more into japanese media than him#so he pesters me abt it every time he sees me. and the thing abt this kid is that he gets bored easily and if he does he turns into a#complete menace. now a couple weeks ago. he shows up at the program w one piece volume one and spends the entire time he's there peacefully#reading and not causing any problems on purpose. my coworker owen (the one who climbed onto the roof) and i were shocked and in awe of how#peaceful he was being and came to the conclusion that he NEEDS to have a manga volume in his hands at all times. few minutes later.#he finishes reading and isn't bored yet so he decides to go talk to me abt manga. specifically he starts pestering me abt what shonen i've#read despite the fact that i am a shoujo reader and told him that. but he knows i've read kuroshitsuji bc he previously asked me abt what#the worst anime i've ever watched is and i will never not take an excuse to drag the adaptation. and he figures that if i've read kuro i've#probably read more. and so i mention tbhk and he asks more abt it bc of the name involving toilets and him being a 4th grade boy so i give#brief overview and he wants to read it. and i come up with a scheme to make him peaceful AND to give him something to talk to me abt which#isn't 'i know you've read more shonen manga' 'let me gacha on your phone' or 'i saw an ad for rent a gf. thought it was lame. and now want#you to tell me how it sucks bc i assume you know everything abt every animanga ever' (<does unfortunately know too much abt rent a gf bc i'#a bit of a nosy bastard and watched the mother's basement video). so i offered to bring it in bc i own physicals of the whole series and of#as previously mentioned. gave it a quick reread in advance just in case. and got hit by it. hard. i love you tbhk almost as much as i love#when ppl get into things through me. honestly i think getting to live vicariously through him might be one of the main reasons it got me#this time around and not as much the first time (still loved it the first time though). flash forward a little while. one of the 3rd grade#girls is like. really into reading. and also macabre things. like ghosts. and she has two books from the school library. and has had the#same two books from the school library for over a week. she reads quickly and finished them both in under a day and is now bored out of her#mind rereading them. she asks to read the books i've been letting the other kid read. now there are two of them#romeo.txt
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