#because i want to show the love and grace in the Church that i have been given

[gingerslemonade]

Sometimes you just have to stumble the block from the restaurant to your apartment kind of tipsy in absolute awe of all the grace that God has given you throughout your life and wondering what He wants you to do with all of it, y'know

[atlabeth]

I desperately need you to give me some jealous nikolai lanstov I'm not even jokinh

my love mine all mine

lowkey continuation of bad luck and im with you; can be read standalone though!

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem reader

summary: after your return to ravka, nikolai's resolve is tested at a ball.

a/n: i have saved this ask since september because i knew one day i would get around to it. i love nikolai lantsov and i dont write jealous fics often so here we go!! this is technically a continuation of bad luck and im with you but you can read it separately. i keep going back to these two for some reason lmao?? idk. theyre childhood friends to lovers with so much strife in between and that's so special to me lmao. but yah enjoy i MISSED WRITING FOR HIM<3

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): nikolai is a lil jealous obviously! small bit of angst, mostly fluff, lil steamy at the end.

Nikolai feels his lip curling, feels his hand tighten on his glass. 

This is a party. A ball, more specifically, but a celebration nonetheless. He should be smiling, mingling, talking up some baron or duke in the name of Ravka’s economy. He is a prince, after all—a bastard, second son of a prince that plans to take the throne at that—and he’s just returned from years at sea. It is in his best interest to do what he does best and talk as much as possible. If anything, he should be arm in arm with the Sun Summoner to boost both their positions. 

But all he can do is stare at you. 

You’re the embodiment of grace. Your practiced smile looks wholly genuine no matter how long you have to keep it up. Your laugh seems to make others smile without even realizing, ringing out clear like church bells. It’s a sound Nikolai knows he would worship to the end of his days, at least. 

You stand in the midst of noblemen and Nikolai only recognizes one—Artem Aslanov, a son of nobles that the two of you spent much of your youth with. He wonders if you remember each other as well. He certainly seems to, the way he stands just a bit too close to you, the way he’s absolutely eager for your attention. Nikolai holds back a scoff. 

The others are likely from various other Ravkan settlements, though one has to be Kaelish, with his almost offensively ginger hair. 

Not that any of it matters, though. Not one of them can tear their eyes away from you as you talk, magnetic with both your words and inherent charm, and they drink up every bit of your presence. 

Something stirs inside Nikolai at the sight. Logically, he knows he has little to worry about—he knows this is your duty as much as it is his, and you care little for any man’s affections but his. 

But Saints, his heart does not want to listen to silly things such as logic. In this moment, Nikolai is reminded of the truth at its barest—you’re a noblewoman of good breeding, quite extravagant wealth, and considerable beauty. Your years at sea have caused you to develop a quick wit and sharp tongue, and it only serves to make you more appealing.

Your flashy return to Ravka has made you perhaps the most desirable lady at court, and Nikolai is forced to realize he no longer has you all to himself anymore. 

Nikolai has planned to come back and take the Lantsov throne for years now, but he can’t help but long for those days again. Teaching you all the ins and outs of the Volkvolny, how to do every sailor’s knot he knows, showing you the misty mountains of the Wandering Isle and the rolling fields of Novyi Zem and the wonderful world outside of Ravka’s courtly constraints. 

Taking over the ships of slavers and clashing blades with drüskelle and watching a thousand sunrises and sunsets together, unbound by anything but tangled up in every part of each other. 

It was almost laughable. You were worried of Nikolai charming others upon your return, and yet here he was, unable to look away from you for even the slightest second because he was jealous of some noble son.

“Your Highness, are you alright?” 

Nikolai turns back to the conversation he is meant to be paying attention to, already offering a smile that he hopes will make up for his utter lack of focus. Of course, he doesn’t really care what this Kerch merchant thinks of him, and Nikolai’s word will probably mean little to his parents at the moment. They’re still quite angry at him for all his Sturmhondish escapades. This man, whose name he has already forgotten, doesn’t seem to know he’s wasting his time. 

“Of course I am,” he says, and he pats him on the shoulder. He means to say more, but then he catches a glance of Artem pulling you to the side, his hand lingering on your waist much too close for comfort. He’s surprised he doesn’t break his glass with how his fingers clench around it even tighter.  

“Then I would be honored for you to consider my—” 

“I apologize, Jansen.” Nikolai ignores the look on his face at both his interruption and being called the wrong name as he drops his hand. “It’s been wonderful chatting with you, but I’m afraid I must take my leave.” 

Nikolai departs before he can get another word out. He’s sure he’ll get an earful later for his ‘disrespect’ but again, he really could not care less. 

He expects to have to weave his way through the crowd, but a path parts for him wherever he moves. Benefits to being a Lantsov prince rather than another privateer on the sea, he supposes. He feels a number of eyes on him as he walks, but he’s focused on one thing and one thing only. 

Artem seems to be as well, seeing as he doesn’t even look up while he continues talking to you. Nikolai doesn’t blame him for being enraptured, but he does wonder what he thinks that boorish smile will do to you. 

Nikolai exclaims your name as he comes up next to you, sliding his arm around your waist like he’s done a thousand times before and claiming his place at your side. “I’ve been looking for you, milaya. You’ve been awfully popular tonight.”

Your gleaming gaze turns to him and Nikolai feels like he can melt. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him—not even Alina can muster up something to rival your brightness. 

“Nikolai!” 

Again, the way you say his name makes him weak at the knees. The poshness of your Ravkan faded while you were at sea around common sailors and vagrants, and though he can tell you’re trying your best to hide it in the name of courtly etiquette, it still bleeds through. He adores your accent, how it shows the woman you’ve become rather than the girl you ran away from. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” you counter as you lean into him. You’ve applied some fanciful perfume, and it’s intoxicating. He has to stop himself from inhaling deeply—he has little shame when it comes to you, but he’s got to have some poise. “You’re the belle of the ball, Mister Prince.” 

“And you’re the apple of everyone’s eye, lapushka,” he says. “Especially mine.” 

Your heartbeat has been steadily increasing ever since he slotted himself at your side, and he can feel it speed even more with his words. It makes Nikolai smile without even fully realizing it. 

He feels Artem’s gaze on him all the while, and Nikolai chooses to ignore it until now. He looks up, making sure his eyes widen cartoonishly and his smile deepens with the same caliber. “Aslanov! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice you!” 

“Your Highness,” he says, polite but terse as he bows his head. “It’s good to see you—it has truly been too long.” 

“Oh, no need for titles,” Nikolai admonishes. “We’re all friends here, are we not?”

He puts particular emphasis on that word, and Artem shifts ever so slightly under Nikolai’s gaze. So he makes him nervous—good. 

“We are,” he agrees, and he looks back at you. “We were merely catching up—it has been years since I last had the good fortune to be in your presence.” Artem smiles at you once again, far more genuine than anything he’s given Nikolai. “Of course, I look forward to hearing about everything you learned at university.” 

“I’ve certainly learned a lot,” you say. Very tongue-in-cheek—you don’t even try to hide it. 

Of course. The cover story for Nikolai’s being away from court was his apprenticeships, culminating in his studies at the University of Ketterdam—it would be a shame of the highest order for your parents to admit you ran away to avoid the marriage they’d planned for you, and even more so to admit it had gotten their daughter kidnapped by slavers, so they simply said you joined him there. 

Advancing your studies for a better view, they’d spouted. We want our heir to be well-educated on all matters of the world. Nikolai knows you learned more on the seas by his side than you would have in a classroom staring at endless amounts of books. He only regrets he can’t shout how amazing you’ve been for the past few years from the rooftops. 

“Perhaps we could discuss it privately some time.” Nikolai will give it to him; his smile is a bit more charming this time. He still wants to punch it off him. “You know, my family has only refined our winemaking over the years—we’d have a wonderful time with a bottle of our finest red—”

“Unfortunately, it will have to wait,” Nikolai cuts in before you can respond. He can’t help it—he’s raring to have you to himself, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take of Artem’s flirting. “My parents are eager to speak to you, darling. We’ll see you around, Aslanov.” 

He pulls you away, once again feeling Artem’s eyes on the two of you. He purposefully pulls you closer against him—your warmth against him does wonders to quell the spike of jealousy in his chest.

“You really are impossible,” you say wryly, but you make no move to part from his side as he leads you through the crowd. 

“I’m just making sure he understands the situation,” Nikolai says innocently. 

“We were just talking,” you say. “You know, it has been years.”

“You were,” he agrees. “But our friend here was very interested in trying to be more. Couldn’t you tell?”

You laugh and you place your hand on his chest. “Nikolai Lantsov, are you jealous?”

“He was talking about his family’s vineyard.” He smiles back at you in turn. He can’t help the bit of bravado that trickles in. “For me to be jealous, I’d have to think he had a chance.”

“Saints, you are!” you exclaim. You stop, halting him in turn, and you grin at him with a twinkle in your eye. Again, he smiles subconsciously just at the sight of it. “Nikolai, I cannot believe you!” 

“How?” he asks, cocking his head boyishly. “Have you caught a glimpse of yourself tonight?”

“I’ve looked at myself in the reflection of every glass,” you say dryly. “After all the time spent in sea-faring clothes, it’s very strange to be back in gowns.”

“Then you should know how absolutely stunning you are,” he says. “Breathtaking, showstopping, the very image of perfection…” Nikolai runs his finger over the embroidery on one of your off-the-shoulder sleeves. The rest of his hand lingers on your bare skin, and he longs to remove the barrier his gloves have created. 

“And yet it still doesn’t beat how you look in a privateer’s garb,” Nikolai says. 

He places his hand over yours and brings it up from his chest. He entangles your fingers and uses the grasp to pull you even closer to him, your chests nearly touching. The warmth of your body tempts him to go even further, but he holds back. 

“Really?” you ask. “This gown cost more vlachkas than anyone deserves, took the labor of a small army to create, and weighs as much as you do, and you like me more in that dingy jacket with pants that smell like gunpowder?” 

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai nods. “They don’t just smell like gunpowder—they make your rear look very appealing.” 

You laugh louder than you should and it draws eyes in your direction. You don’t pay them any mind, gaze still locked on Nikolai, as you hit him on the chest. 

“You still have the mind of a sailor, I see,” you drawl. “But I must admit I also miss it. The simplicity, if anything.” 

“Just because I didn’t keep a king’s mantle on deck doesn’t mean I wasn’t outfitted in the same gaudy way,” Nikolai says. “A Lantsov must always be prepared, you know.” 

“Well, I used to hate that blue frock of yours, especially when we first reunited,” you muse. You extract your hand and trail your fingers down his current coat—he shivers at your touch even through the material. “Now I think I prefer it over anything else in your wardrobe.”

He frowns. “You hated my coat?” 

“I hated a lot of things at the time,” you say wryly. Your hand finds its way back to his and you intertwine them together again. “Besides, it’s grown on me.” 

Nikolai chuckles, and the two of you fall silent when you shift and rest your head on his shoulder. You’ve managed to find your way to the edge of the ballroom, and it gives you a little more privacy. You stand together, watching as everyone mingles, half bearing a fake smile and the other half lying through their teeth. He didn’t think the Ravkan court would like to think they had more in common with his lying, cheating, stealing crew than they thought.  

“So,” Nikolai says, finally breaking the silence, “is being back everything you’ve imagined?”

You huff. “Hardly. Everything is so… restrained.” 

He hums in acknowledgement. “Speaking of restrained, have your parents gotten over their fit yet?” 

Your laugh is sharper this time. “Once again, hardly. You’d think I murdered the queen the way they’re treating me.” 

Nikolai expected that, to be honest. He insisted on being by your side in the initial reunion and they didn’t dare act out of turn in front of royalty, but you said the moment you returned to your palace apartment with them, they yelled at you loud enough to be heard in Novyi Zem. 

“They should be thankful,” Nikolai scoffs. “It’s like they don’t even care what nearly happened to you because of their haste to marry you off.” 

“I don’t even like to think about it,” you murmur. He feels you shiver and he pulls you even closer to him. “But I was right—they want me to be who I was before I left. They’re even convinced that they can get me to agree to the marriage they’ve got planned.” 

His frown deepens. “Saints, must I sweep you off your feet in front of all of Ravka to get everyone to realize you’re a taken woman? I am a very good shot, but I’ve only got so many bullets—”

“Nikolai,” you interrupt with a laugh, raising your head to look him in the eye. He’s glad to see the lightness has returned. Your near fate isn’t a subject either of you like to talk about. “You don’t need to worry, and you certainly don’t need to worry about that.” You cup his cheek with your hand and he leans into your touch. “If one thing has stayed the same through all of this, it’s that you’re the only one out there for me. After all the pomp and circumstance you have to perform with Alina is over, you can tell them yourself.” 

“Good,” Nikolai says with a slight smile. “Because I don’t think I can stand to hear Aslanov talk about the grapes his family’s been growing for another second.” 

You laugh again, and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. Nikolai beats you to it as he covers your hand with his own, using his other to draw you even closer. Practically every part of you is touching as he kisses you like a starving man, with your lips against his and your perfume invading his senses and your soft moan that’s muffled against his mouth. After a night spent away from your side and having to watch other men compete fruitlessly for your affections, he might as well be. 

When you finally pull away, lipstick a mess and pupils dilated and expression nothing less than adoration, it takes everything Nikolai has in him not to take your face in his hands and do it all over again. He wants to mess up your hair, your makeup, kiss your lips until they’re swollen and ravish, worship your body until you can think of nothing but him, say nothing but his name. 

“Nikolai,” you gasp, interrupting his sinful thoughts, “do you want to get out of here for a bit?” 

Whatever restraint he previously had dissolves with your words as he kisses you again, harder this time. You’re water when he’s dying, a lifeboat when he’s drowning, the very air he needs to breathe. Everything has come to a head after such a boring, strength-testing night, and all Nikolai wants is you. 

He brings you even closer with the arm he has around your waist, already starting to pull you along as he heads towards the doorways. He’s sure to stick to the walls, not wanting to draw more attention than necessary when even the flushed warmth of your heated skin through his jacket is enough to drive him crazy. 

Nikolai doesn’t know how he ever spent seven years away from you. He could barely handle half a ball. 

“More than anything,” he breathes. 

[808airsoftbros]

Christmas Wish (Female Idols)

Author: Merry Christmas everyone, here is my special holidays oneshot. I may or may not write a New Year's special sequel as I did plan to write a smut into this but I didn't have the time and energy spent on the Holiday mayhem. Anyway, hope you enjoy and if you want to check out more stories go to Masterlist.

Silent night, holy night All is calm, all is bright Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child Holy Infant so tender and mild Sleep in heavenly peace Sleep in heavenly peace

Silent night, holy night Shepherds quake at the sight Glories stream from heaven afar Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia Christ the Savior is born Christ the Savior is born

Silent night, holy night Son of God, love's pure light Radiant beams from Thy holy face With the dawn of redeeming grace Jesus Lord, at Thy birth Jesus Lord, at Thy birth

Y/N's POV

It was another night of singing Christmas carols in my local church theatre, just like every year on the holidays. Despite the years that had passed, everyone showed up in droves, and family and friends came together.

Some are apart for most of the year for study or work, and seeing them come together again as a union once more makes me envy them.

My whole life I grew up as an orphan, I don't even know what my family looks like or what it's even like to have one. I was unwanted, cast aside, and not even worth a penny in this society.

Then why do I sing these stupid Christmas carols? I don't even know myself... Maybe because it's all I know because there's nowhere to go? Perhaps.

But the real reason doesn't matter much now, does it? No, not really. I don't even know the meaning of life, and I have no idea of my purpose.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for taking the time to come to this wonderful Christmas chorale this evening! It was such a pleasure to always host this yearly tradition in this glamorous town! And it's such a wonderful feeling seeing all of you reunited with family and friends you may not have seen in years, now, please give a warm applause to our singers!" The host spoke to the crowd and they all cheered as they clapped the sounds echoing in the church.

As we all dispersed from our group, I didn't even bother staying for the after-party as nobody cared about me and wouldn't notice I was gone. I knew I was simply a meaningless character in the background of everyone's story.

Once I walked inside the comfort of my apartment I sighed as I closed the door, I sat down on the couch cracking open a bottle of apple soju from the fridge just dazing in my thoughts.

"Silent night~. Holy night~. Yeah, shut the fuck up..." I said to myself as that stupid chorale was stuck playing in my head as if the Universe was mocking me.

Why does my life fucking suck? I don't know and I don't even care at this point... Because what's the point in life anymore?

Everyone has a purpose in life, whether to be working, being a celebrity for everyone to admire and fan over, or whatever that may be. But here I am slouching in my apartment like a waste of space in this world.

What is my damn purpose here? To be a pathetic joke and stain on society? Wow, what a way to start my life and this will likely stay that way forever.

Looking at the clock, I sighed deeply as it was nearly time for me to go to work, I slipped on my shopkeeper's uniform before heading into the store to relieve my co-worker who was wrapping up his shift for the day.

"Ah, Merry Christmas, Y/N, right on time as usual," He greeted and I nodded.

"Busy today?" I asked and he nodded.

"Yup, the store's been packed with tourists all day, but tonight should be slow since nobody is out at night so it should be a pretty slow and chill shift for you," He sighed as he grabbed his things.

I watched as my co-worker walked out of the store and into the winter snow as the sun was slowly starting to set down and darkness slowly began taking over the city.

Settling down on the stand, I placed in headphones listening to chill music to pass the time as I stared at the empty store, even though this was going to be boring as hell it was free money for me and I pretty much had the run of the store.

I did ring out a few late-night customers that I see every night buying beer and smokes along with snacks but other than that the streets are empty.

"That would be all tonight for you miss?" I asked politely and the customer nodded.

"Yes please," She replied as I rang up her items.

Just as I was about to finish up the transaction I heard the doorbell ringing, glancing to see who was entering, it was a woman wearing a black mask and a black winter coat wearing high heels with black stockings.

This made me raise an eyebrow as I had never seen the woman around here before, I thanked the lady for shopping there as I handed her the bag of her stuff, and I silently watched the strange woman as the lady walked out of the store.

I sighed leaning back on the chair as I quietly watched the woman browse the snack and beer section with a hint of curiosity but I kept it subtle so as not to create an awkward situation.

About maybe five minutes later, she grabbed some snacks along with the most expensive wine available which is a bit surprising as nobody has ever purchased it as long as I worked here.

"Hello, miss, will this be all tonight?" I asked in that same professional and polite tone.

The lady didn't reply but just nodded and I shrugged as I assumed she wasn't a talker, I ringed up her snacks but when I rang up the wine the POS locked me out requiring me to enter a date of birth.

"Can I see your ID real quick?" I asked politely and she seemed hesitant.

"Sorry miss, but if you don't show me your ID, I cannot sell you this," I informed her and she sighed as she pulled out her wallet before showing me her ID card.

Reading the date of birth the expiration date along with the authenticity, everything seemed to check out as she was above the age of 18 but the issue was her face as she was wearing the mask.

"Again, I'm sorry, but could pull down your mask? I need to see if the picture on your ID matches yours," I instructed and she seemed a bit irritated.

"Come on, I'm over 18, and I got places to be," She complained and I sighed as it seemed she was another difficult customer.

"I deeply apologize ma'am, but this is the law we're talking about here and I unfortunately don't make the rules here. Either show your face or you'll have to leave the wine behind," I explained to her and she huffed still refusing.

Just as I was about to take the wine off, I heard the doorbell ringing and another lavish woman walked in looking confused.

"Yah, Chewie, what's taking so long?" She asked her.

"Well, this idiot here thinks my ID isn't mine," The woman nicknamed Chewie answered and she sighed.

"Probably because we're wearing masks. Just do it, Chewie, before we're late, and besides, nobody else is here at this hour," the strange lady pointed out, and Chewie rolled her eyes.

Reluctantly, the woman pulled down her mask and picture on the ID, and her face checked out, allowing the transaction to finish up and me to not have to put up with her rich, snotty attitude.

"I'm sorry about that, sir. She doesn't get along with strangers well," the lady apologized on her behalf.

"No worries, it's part of the job," I assured and the lady sighed in relief seeing I wasn't too angry about the petty issue.

As they grabbed the bag of items, I watched them leave making me sigh in relief as I could get back to my other duties. I have dealt with many stupid customers in the past but this was a first, having some rich snot thinking they're above everyone else and the law.

I shrugged it off as I went to cook up some fresh hot dogs for the hot food stock along with pretzels stuffing the pre-made dough in the oven.

After I finished restocking the store, I wiped down the counter when I heard the doorbell ringing again and I looked up to see a couple of women wearing the same masks as the previous two did but their clothing was more casual this time instead of the lavish designer clothes.

Naturally, I kept my guard up and ready for their nonsensical rich crap as I wiped down the counter until the two women walked up to me holding a couple of cases of soju.

"Good evening, ladies, will this be all today?" I asked politely.

"Yup, that will be all, do you need to see our IDs?" One of them asked and I was a bit surprised.

"Uhm, yes, please," I answered they showed their IDs without a fuss and pulled down masks proving the pictures matched.

"Aight, your ladies check out," I informed them.

"By any chance, did our little friend Chewie give you any trouble tonight?" Haseul asked kindly and I raised an eyebrow.

"Who again?" I asked a bit confused.

"You know, the tall Taiwanese woman that just walked in here," Heejin chimed in and I chuckled.

"Eh, somewhat, nagging about pulling down her mask," I answered but also kept it professional and they giggled.

"Yeah, she's like that, that's why we don't often take her out much because she always causes trouble and we can't have news reporting scandals about her, can we?" Haseul mentioned as she inserted her credit card into the pin pad.

"What do you mean?" I asked and they seemed surprised by my question.

Haseul and Heejin looked at each other for a moment, somehow assuming that I might've heard about them like they were some sort of celebrities. Or perhaps they are and I live under a rock.

"N-Nevermind, how much do I owe?" Haseul asked giving a nervous smile and I told her the amount due.

Once the transaction was complete I handed over the receipt and they left without saying another word. I grabbed the cleaning cloth when I noticed Haseul had left her phone on my counter.

I grabbed the phone and rushed out of the store but by the time I got out, I watched them start their car and drive away and I sighed as I went back into the store seeing no point in chasing after them.

Getting back behind the counter trying to figure out what to do next, after thinking for some time I got an idea, I grabbed a paperclip in the drawer and bent it out to make a needle.

I take the phone out of its case carefully making sure I don't damage or scratch anything, I find the hole on the side and insert the needle popping out the SIM card slot.

"Bingo," I muttered holding the SIM card.

Seeing there were no customers around and the store was neat and tightly for now, I had plenty of spare time to kill as I took out my laptop plugged the SIM card into the slot, and used software to decode the information and find her phone number.

When I finished getting the necessary information, I managed to write down her number before sending her a text informing her that she had left her phone at my store.

I placed my phone down feeling rather odd at how she easily trusted me despite being a stranger to her, I guess she must be that busy and desperate to trust me that much.

Welp, there's nothing much more I can do about it unfortunately and I can only wait until my shift is over so I can turn her phone over.

Looking up the address on Google, it luckily wasn't too far away and within walking distance, but it's also impressive that they are located in the most expensive hotel in the city which shouldn't be all that surprising.

When I finally finished my shift, I made my way to the hotel but as I was walking I just wondered why Haseul didn't ask how I got her number in the first place. Strange now I think about it...

Whatever, the least I can do now is return her phone and get out of their hair for good, and it's not like they'll drag me into their hotel room and make me their pet, right? Some sort of delusional Christmas wish.

Anyway, I finally made my way through the hotel lobby after getting the number of their room, I hopped onto the elevator to the top floor, making my way through the corridor filled with pots of plants and statues.

Walking past the various rooms, I managed to find the right one, I took a breath before hitting the doorbell button.

"Who could that be?!" I heard a female voice ask loudly.

"I hope it's not a saesang! Let me check!"

Hearing footsteps coming upon the door, assuming the person was looking through the peephole, the door opened soon after.

"Can I help you?" A squirrel-looking Japanese woman asked and I held up Haseul's phone.

"I came to return Haseul's phone, I believe this belongs to her," I informed her handing over the phone to her.

"Oh, why thank you but how did you find it?" The woman asked cautiously.

"Haseul texted me to come here, I used the SIM card to track her number... I hope that doesn't sound too creepy, I didn't know what else to do," I explained nervously hoping that they don't call the cops on me.

The woman looked at me checking me out and making sure I wasn't some creepy stalker or hacker coming to steal her information or something.

Soon after, she called Haseul over and she came over soon after sighing in relief that I arrived before handing back her phone.

"Oh, thank you so much! You're a real lifesaver!" Haseul thanked me profusely.

"Yeah, it's no problem, Noona, Merry Christmas," I replied and was about to walk away.

"Hold it!"

I froze in place, slowly turning around to see what they wanted, my stomach hung in balance as I could only imagine the worst about to come.

"You really thought we'd let you leave without thanking you properly~?" Haseul asked with a warm smile and I raised an eyebrow.

"Uhh... What?" I asked.

"What she's saying is that we want you to stay for the party, if you're free of course," Nayeon chimed in and my eyes widened.

Well, I'll fucking be...

"Uh... yeah, I am," I confessed nervously and Nayeon came forward taking my arm and dragging me into their room almost seeming the ridiculous Christmas wish was coming true after all... At least most of it.

As Nayeon got me inside the room, the squirrel woman closed the door behind us, I was taken into the living room where I was astonished to see it was all girls.

"Oh, Haseul, is that Y/N? The one you kept talking about?" A Thomas-looking woman asked and Haseul nodded.

"Well, he is cute,"

"Is he staying for the party?"

"Ugh, why is he here?"

"Yah! Chewie, be nice to our guest for once!"

"Hmph!"

As the Japanese woman introduced herself, Sana seated me on the couch next to her, keeping her arm locked around mine. The girls just chuckled amusingly, seeing how clingy she was around me.

"Yah, miss flirt, you might give the guy a nosebleed if you keep holding him like that?" Jeongyeon pointed out at Sana pressing her boobs on my arm and she giggled only putting more pressure.

"So what if I do? I do enjoy pampering... Especially young men," She replied with a sultry tone as she caressed my chest making me gulp.

"Oh, God, Unnie, you always are a creep. You know that?" Tzuyu rolled her eyes, but Sana took no notice.

"Don't worry about them sweetheart, I have a surprise Christmas present waiting in the bedroom... If you know what I mean~," She giggled in a flirty way and I swore I felt my nose was about to bleed any second.

Soon after, the sassy idol Chaewon approached me, wrapping an arm around mine and forcing me away from her, but Sana brought me back.

"Yah! I saw him first!" Sana bickered.

"No! I won't let you corrupt him! Especially on the Holidays!" Chaewon replied as she continued tugging at me.

"Yah! Girls enough already!" JiU butted in breaking them and sighing in relief as I felt I was gonna get split into two.

"Look, girls, like Chaewon said, it's the Holiday season, and Christmas is around the corner. How about we all just enjoy each other's company while it lasts? We've all had a busy year, and we certainly don't need to add more problems right now, so how about we move on and enjoy ourselves?" Jihyo proposed, and the girls agreed.

"Does that mean I go home?" I asked raising my hand and the girls all shook their heads.

"No!" They all said in unison and I sighed.

When the party was done being set up for tonight, the girls went out shopping, of course, I was dragged along against my will with Gaeul, Handong, Sana, and Chaewon.

We all split into multiple groups, and I stayed with the four girls, who kept me in place and took me around the massive mall full of toy shops, gaming surplus, and much more as the girls shopped for clothes.

"First off, my dear, let's upgrade that Dinosaur of a phone," Handong pointed out.

"But it's the iPhone 4..." I mentioned and Gaeul facepalmed making me confused as this is the latest phone... At least that's what I thought.

"Pabo! Were you living under a rock? Come, let us show you the magic of modern technology," Chaewon said, taking my hand and leading me into the Apple store.

Looking around, I marveled at the accessories for Airpods, Beats, and iPads, and I was surprised to see the new iPhone lineup. I was living under a rock, being so busy with work and staying at my apartment most of the time.

One of the staff members approached, asking if they needed assistance. The girls asked the guy for the most expensive iPhone they had, and he took us over to the iPhone 16 Pro Max, which made my jaw drop as it was a whopping $1,599, the initial price for 1 TB.

Of course, being idols this was nothing to them as they paid for the new phone and soon set me up with the new model.

"Jeez, I know I returned your phone but this is quite a bit much," I commented checking out my new phone.

"No worries, dear, this will not even be close to denting our bank accounts compared to the rest of the shopping trip," Sana giggled.

"So best prepare yourself to be spoiled all day," Chaewon said, and I sighed as I was dragged along with them.

The entire day was spent just the girls buying shit for me like luxury brands like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, and even Lego sets that I've wanted. All of this would've made me broke but I guarantee none of these expenses wasn't even close to making dents to their accounts.

"Come on, Y/N, we still got more shops to look at! I gotta get Christmas gifts for my family!" Chaewon said in a demanding tone as she held my hand.

"Oh, yeah, that reminds me I need to find something for my siblings," Sana remembered as she looked around the stores.

"Same, I gotta find gifts for my parents," Handong mentioned.

"I also have to find a gift for my Oppa and parents," Gaeul chimed as she looked around the stores to see if there were gifts they might like.

Following the girls around various stores, it felt like forever as the girls searched the clothing stores and jewelry shops until they finally settled on the perfect presents.

"Ah, this is perfect! My Eomma is gonna love this!" Sana said in a satisfied manner as she inspected the custom butterfly necklace that was laced with diamonds.

"Wow, that is so pretty, Unnie!" Gaeul agreed.

Wrapping up the Christmas mall shopping, we all reunited holding multiple shopping bags but I saw Jihyo holding the most compared to me.

"You gonna lend a girl a hand~?" Jihyo playfully asked and I looked down seeing my hands were full as it is.

"Kidding, Y/N, I see you're hands look like they're about to fall off and I've handled more bags than this, especially when the girls go out shopping in many places around the world," Jihyo chuckled.

We walked to the two vans we took to drive here placing all the bags into the trunks before I joined Gaeul and the three girls in one of the vans.

"You look tired, my dear, you can lay your head on my shoulder or lap if you want~," Sana offered wrapping an arm around my waist.

"Yah! No, listen to that old hag! My body is more comfy!" Gaeul rebutted and they bickered making me groan as I leaned against the headrest enduring the noisy girls the entire ride.

Once we finally made it back to the hotel, we carried the shopping bags inside the room making sigh in relief as the bags were heavy as hell.

The girls were starving, of course, JiU, Haseul, and Jihyo agreed to order room service making lots of orders as the girls wrote down what they wanted.

"So what do you want, my dear, Y/N~?" Heejin asked handing over the paper and pen.

"Uhm, not sure if I want... Hehe," I politely declined and she pouted.

"Oh, come on, Y/N, it's on us and we did promise to spoil you~," Heejin insisted and I sighed as I couldn't resist that adorable pout.

Writing down what I wanted the girls chimed in money to pay for the food before making the order on the phone, Choerry and Liz sat next to me hugging me from both sides.

"So how do you think of the party so far~?" Choerry playfully asked.

"It's something... Though I never expected to be here for simply returning a phone," I nervously answered and they giggled.

"I know, kinda reminds you of one of those Wattpad fanfictions, huh?" Liz asked and I found it funny now I think about it.

"And would you know that, Liz?" Leeseo asked raising an eyebrow and Liz blushed almost sheepishly admitting she had been reading fan fiction.

"Oh, no worries, Liz! I think we all have read some of them at one point, I do find them interesting and some are quite ho-" SuA was about to say but Yves quickly covered her mouth.

"Hey! We have babies here!" Yves shushed her as she pointed at Leeseo and Eunchae.

"But I'm an adult now, right~?" Eunchae teasingly mentioned.

"Doesn't matter! You are still a baby!" Yves refuted and Eunchae pouted.

Just as I thought Liz and Choerry were enough, I found Yeojin sitting on my lap and curling up to me. She hugged me and nuzzled her face into my neck, which I found oddly cute.

"Yah! Yeojin! I want a turn!" Eunchae demanded but Yeojin stuck out her tongue in a mockery manner making the girls roll their eyes playfully watching the Maknaes fighting over my attention.

Well, my friends, I guess the lesson here is that you should expect the unexpected, especially during the Holiday season. Here I am, a background character being the main protagonist in this new world.

What do I expect next? I don't know, but I do know that I am not going anywhere with them all over me. Merry Christmas.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Make me your god, I can give you everything~

Wuwa boys + hierophilia!! Plot: they worship dom!gn!reader as their god

Warning: hierophilia, blowjob (implied), hair pulling, clothes sniffing (implied), dacryphilia

Nini!rant: I hope I included all of them? Also I’ll not write for yuanwu cuz I have absolutely no clue what his character is like, and lingyang bc he looks and acts childish. Anyway, I’m not up to date with the game, so the character’s personalities might be a bit off :(

Aalto

- He’d be the puppy kind, a very smart himbo (?)

- a loyal follower of yours, believes you are a being above since you are so graceful and divine

- you could do no wrong, and he’d believe your every word, he’s bound to your voice

- obeys everything like a good servant, even though he’d be a bit cheeky just for the sake of it

- he likes doing stuff that involves personal stuff of yours, like doing the laundry, cleaning your chambers

- should you trust him with your stuff? Well he definitely won’t steal it but maybe sometime else?

- “want me to do this? Oh, lord…! Well, anything for my deity~”

- could be a little demanding at times, begging and asking for a reward if he did something well (or thinks he did)

- “god, please give me some of your blessings?”

- overall a fun good boy

Chalcharo

- he is loyal, like really loyal, and faithful

- so loyal that it gets annoying at times, always wanting the best for you

- would have a hunch of overprotectiveness too, thinking he did well taking care of the dirty work for you

- in other words instead of waiting for a command, doing things by his own initiative

- he likes staying by your side and protecting you, if there’s not much to do he’d stare at you, thinking he’s sneaky when he isn’t

- wouldn’t voice it but wants you to praise him and show him your full attention afterwards

- tell him he’s a good boy and your most trusted follower and he’d be seeing the gates of paradise

- if he didn’t actually help he wouldn’t know and still expect that, so it’s up to you whether to punish him or not

- if you allowed him to, he’d love to lay his head on your lap or straddle you (he’d never admit)

- “I worship you, my lord, the dearest, please let me be useful to you.”

Jiyan

- pretty similar to chalcharo? BUT more shy, he blushes so sweetly whenever you compliment him, or touch him

- he’d flinch all surprised and embarrassed too

- a veeeery good boy, sometimes does things by himself but mostly waits for your order

- since he’s so cute, he’s very fun to tease, leading to him being red faced all the time

- but he doesn’t mind, he liked the feeling to being loved by you, a divine presence, to shower in your attention (who doesn’t?)

- headcanon that he’d enjoy taking care of the flowers around the house/ church/ wherever this is taking place

- you think he looks very cute a tad messy and sweaty after tending to the garden

- you once stroked his hair while whispering something about wanting a drink, so he suddenly got up to get you one

- but bc you were still holding his hair you accidentally yanked on it

- it felt so good he moaned, “ah-ahhnnggg~” now he has dirty fantasies about it almost every night

Mortefi

- take jiyans embarrassment and multiply it by three, that’s how he feels when he’s showing his devotion to you

- not because he thinks the act itself is humiliating, but that he’s not doing enough

- nevertheless doesn’t want to trouble you, since that’d be beyond him, so he always brushes it off

- he’s content with reading the holy books and scrolls in your presence, and knowing you gift him with the occasional glances

- sometimes he gets so engulfed in reading you really just want to tease fuck him from behind

- if you did do it… he’s so honoured..! And so, so lucky! But he wouldn’t be able to look you in the eyes for a while

- wants to do so much more but again, wouldn’t tell, you’ll need to reach out to him

- it’s your judgement whether or not he deserved your care, he will try to gain it, but not expect it

- would deny wanting anything physical at first, but melt the moment you touch him, even if it’s through gloves

- “f-forgive me lord, for being greedy.”

Rover

- sweetest and most diligent follower ever

- way more bold and direct than the others, would seek you out when he wants your attention

- and that’s like, always, so expect him to be clingy

- mostly quiet, just gently appreciating you caressing him in any way

- he liked putting his head on your lap the most, second only to more intimate stuff

- a little like a lap dog? His duty is to entertain you, if they are all members of some church for example he’d be a rookie

- anyone would be jealous that a newcomer gets to spend so much time with you…! And he’s so smug about it too

- smiles a lot! Really warms you up! Makes you want to make him cry as well-

- seeing that soft and tender face of his twisted into a writhing one as he cries out, “m-more!! Don’t s-stop.. my lord” must be pretty great

Scar

- so bold it’s unreal, he’d barge into your room whenever which would be seen as disrespectful but he’d also get on his knees immediately and pray to you

- beg you for your affection, he’s soooo needy with his god

- also definitely tries to seduce you, and if he was doing that with anyone else he would have been kicked out

- you seemed to find it fun so that’s why he kept his position

- many think you are too lenient with him, and too benevolent considering how cheeky he is

- demanding attention, skipping chores to wag his tail around you, touching you all comfortably as if you allowed him so

- it’s like he’s trying to get laid by his deity

- the only one who’d be daring enough to be sarcastic with you, and bratty

- just fuck him stupid maybe then he’d learn how to behave

- “ah, hnNghh~ l-lord, so rough..! GentleEEeeeKKK!!”

Geshu lin

- actually the only one who’s somewhat on equal standing with you? Or rather, he acts normal with you in comparison to the others

- converses with you, plays traditional games, many would agree that he seems a bit like your right hand man

- but to you? You see him as just as desperate as the others

- there’s no way to hide those eyes full of worship and yearning, and admiration

- gets so jealous when you spend too much time with the others, he’s the worst one, and it shows in his actions

- cuz then he’d be more demanding, louder too

- wouldn’t expect you to touch him or anything, and thinks it’s too disrespectful to touch you without asking, so he’d be shameless enough to straight up ask

- even if it’s some lewd places, places that are otherwise forbidden to these loyal pups of yours

- he still has his needs after all, whenever he first sees you he’d get on his knees and give you his greetings

- “good morning my lord, may I use my mouth to express my love and adoration?”

[loulouwrites]

HAUNTED . TOMMY SHELBY

summary: tommy's wife knows their stately home is haunted, he doesn't believe her. warnings: mdni, angst, depression, postnatal depression, psychosis, endangering a child, death, suicide, miscarriage, religion, infidelity, grace doesn't exist (yayy!) word count: 1.9k a/n: this deals with really heavy stuff so if you're sensitive to any of the warnings, please don't read this x

It had been a happy marriage.

They had met after Tommy had returned from France. She and her family had moved to Small Heath from a nearby town after her father had gotten a new job at the factory. They were not a well off family, and she had begun working at the Shelby bookmakers while the men were away fighting the Great War, and the women were in charge of the business.

Tommy had liked her the moment he met her, though there was little joy left since his return home, he found pockets of it whenever he was around the abrasive, loud-mouthed girl. It was easy to fall in love with her, and it was easy for her to fall in love with him - it was easy for any woman to fall in love with Thomas Shelby.

They hadn't married quickly, it was years of courtship - and breakups - before he proposed, though she would insist it was less of a proposal, and more a demand. He hadn't gotten down on one knee, nor had he expressed his undying love for her, because she already knew. He had simply informed her they would be married at Church the coming Sunday, and she had no need to worry about the details, he had sorted everything, because that's what he did - he planned, and she showed up, no questions asked.

The Shelby business grew quickly, quicker than it probably should have, and he was able to move her out of Small Heath for good, buying her the countryside estate he had always promised her, with land she could wander in barefoot, and a home she could get lost in.

"It's awfully big," is what she said when he removed his hands from her eyes, revealing the home he planned for them to grow old in. He let out a huff of laughter at the sight of her scrunched up face.

"I wanted a house big enough for all the children we're going to have," he placed a hand on her swollen stomach, their first child growing inside of her, ready to arrive any day now.

She had given birth one week after they had moved into their new home. Her screams echoed throughout the house, and Tommy had to stop himself from running up the stairs to their bedroom every time her pained cries reached his ears from his office.

Their daughter arrived in the early hours of the morning, her screams replacing her mother's, a joyous sound to those in the house. She had dark hair, smooth skin and eyes just like her father.

They named her Elsie.

Thomas loved his home. He saw it as a justification for every bad thing he had ever done. The dark wooden floors, and the walls adorned with gold frames, the French carpets and the china vases, they were all extensions of himself, every detail in the house was proof that he had succeeded.

His wife had loved the house too, at least at first. It had taken her all but one week to make it hers, to decorate the bedroom exactly how she wanted it, and to arrange the china in the dining room in a way that was sure to impress the guests they would have.

The change in her was small at first, as far as Tommy could recall. It had started in the eighth month of her second pregnancy - her second successful pregnancy, at least. He remembered waking in the middle of the night, the sheets beside him cold and crumpled, and he had shot out of bed before he had woken up properly.

The house was eerily still as he wandered, checking every room, but she was nowhere. He opened the door to his daughter's room, releasing a held breath when he saw her tucked away in her pink sheets, unaware of the world around her.

The panic didn't set in until he descended the stairs, and the cold breeze from the open front door hit his face, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

The nighttime air was bitter, the ground cold against his bare feet, but it didn't register to Tommy as he rushed around the grounds for his wife, with only the moonlight as his guide. He didn't know how long he had been searching when he finally saw her, her nightgown flowing in the wind as she stood beside the pond, her back to her husband.

He had called her name, but she didn't turn around, and he called it again, and again, approaching her the way he would a spooked horse.

"I don't know how you can sleep in that house, Thomas," she spoke when he was close enough to hear her whisper, and he stopped short of touching her, a frown on his face. "It's just so loud in there."

"What do you mean, love?" Tommy glanced back at the house, it's silence obvious even from outside.

"They're too loud, Tommy," her voice broke, and she turned around to face him, her hair tangled and her eyes teary.

He didn't question her, he didn't argue that the house was quiet and there was nobody there but them and their daughter, he just nodded, holding a hand out for her to take, pulling her to his chest when she finally gripped his hand in hers.

"I know, love."

She loved her children. Elsie was pretty like her, and stubborn like her father, and was able to make anybody smile. Her son, George, was quiet, and, though he was only a baby, she knew he'd be kind, a gentle soul in such a cruel world. She also loved the children she had lost, though she never named them. The ones that never made it out of her womb, sometimes she thought they knew what they would be born into, and maybe saved themselves from the cruelty, maybe God had saved them from it.

She was singing George a lullaby in his room when she heard them again.

The whispers.

She never knew where the noise was coming from, just that they were close. Close enough for her to hear them, but far away enough for it to sound like gibberish.

They always came when it was dark, when they knew she wouldn't be able to see them in the corners of the room, but she knew they were there, even if nobody else did.

She held her son close to her, leaving his room as quietly as possible, her bare feet pressing into the wooden floor caused it to creak as she moved, but she didn't stop.

Her husband sighed when she walked into the bedroom with their son held tightly against her chest. She had been doing this more frequently lately.

"George will be sleeping with us tonight."

She was telling him, not asking.

"I don't think there's any need for that," Tommy had sighed as he removed his cufflinks, throwing them on the dressing table harder then was necessary.

"It is," she stated, climbing into bed, her lips pressed to the head of the infant.

"He has a perfectly good room all for himself," Tommy tried to reason, but one look at his wife's face told him his arguing was in vain.

There was no reasoning with her anymore.

"It's not safe, Tommy." He rolled his eyes at her words, dragging his palms down his face in exasperation, and exhaustion. "You don't see it, but it's not,"

"You don't see it," Tommy hissed, pointing a finger at her. "You don't see it, you hear it, you hear things no one else does."

"I am not insane, if that's what you're implying," she regarded him cooly. "It's real, it's all real."

"I'm not implying anything," he sighed, moving to sit beside her on the bed. "I believe that you believe it's real-"

She was shaking her head and climbing out of the bed before he could finish the sentence, pacing the floor with a fussy George in her arms.

"It's real, Tommy," she walked to stand in front of him, looking down at him, her tears dripping onto his shirt.

There was no reasoning with her anymore.

"I know, love. I believe you."

It got worse as George grew.

She had been putting the six month old to bed when the whispers got closer, when she felt their breath against her ear, and heard their taunting laughter all around the room.

She had scooped up the baby and ran from the room, their laughter echoing through the halls.

Elsie had been sleeping when her mother burst into the room, with baby George held on her hip.

"We have to go, Elsie," her mother had whispered erratically. "We have to leave now."

She held a bruising grip on her sleepy daughter's arm as she dragged her down the stairs, tripping over the carpet as she rushed. She spared a glance at Tommy's closed office door, and considered running towards it, running to the man who wasn't afraid of anything, but she didn't.

He wouldn't understand.

Tommy shouldn't have indulged her as much as he did.

He should never have told her he believed the sick stories she had created in her mind. He should have thrown her in the car and sent her to the doctor the first time he found her standing by that pond.

He had heard the front door open, heard the protests of his daughter and the cries of his son, and he had thrown his cigarette to the floor and ran towards the noise, finding the front door open, and the cries of his children getting fainter as they left the house.

He knew where she was going, and he had ran faster than he thought he ever had before, finding her at the pond, her nightgown flapping in the breeze.

He called her name, and her head snapped towards him, and Elsie tried to wiggle out of her mother's grip at the sight of her father.

"Come back inside, love," he had said, his arms outstretched, but she shook her head erratically.

"No, no Tommy. That house is evil, why can't you see it?" He took a small step forward, his shoes sinking into the mud.

"I know, I know," he whispered. "We don't have to go back there, we can go somewhere else, anywhere you want."

"You're lying," she spat quietly.

"I'm not," he shook his head. "I'm not. You never have to go back there again, I'll burn it down if that's what you want. Just come here."

Her body relaxed slightly, as did her grip on Elsie, who managed to free her arm from her mother's hand and run to her father, tears soaking her cheeks.

"Come on, love," Tommy eyed George, who was leaning against his mother's chest. "Let's go now."

She took careful steps towards him, her bare feet digging into the soft ground. He had taken George from her arms as soon as she was close enough, and she looked at her family with an empty look in her eyes.

He handed George to Elsie, instructing the six year old to take him to the car, without breaking eye contact with the broken woman in front of him.

She was gone.

"Come on, love. We can fix it, I can fix it," his voice was pained as he reached for her, and for a second he saw the woman he married. He saw her in the way she wrapped her arms around his waist, her hands dragging down his sides.

"I'm sorry, Tommy."

He was helpless to stop it, really.

Too slow to realise her hand stopping at his holster.

Too slow to reach for when she stepped back from her with his gun in his hand.

Too weak to catch her before she fell back into the pond.

Too weak to stop his knees from giving in.

She was gone.

The house had won.

[multiharlot]

giving him the papers // matt murdock x age gap!reader

summary: out of everything you'd planned for your future with matt, divorce wasn't one of them.

warnings: none? i don't think? matthew is the warning? idk?

series masterlist || main masterlist || add yourself to my taglist!

when matt walked into the loft and you weren't there, he'd just about lost his mind. he thought you were gone forever, and he wouldn't blame you for that. he couldn't. he'd dug his own grave. he hadn't bothered unpacking his bags, he just sat on the couch, waiting. hoping and praying harder than he'd ever hoped and prayed that you'd walk through those doors and come home.

home, he'd thought.

what a home you'd created for him.

a home filled with love and comfort and warmth. and then he'd ruined it in a matter of moments, like the desecration of the holiest of churches. now he'd be forced to kneel to prayer on the roughest of hardwood floors. the god he'd begged to grant him the grace of your love would turn his back to the mortal man now begging and pleading for your grace and love and forgiveness once more, yet his eyes turned only to watch you. he watched as you sat there, deflated, on your knees and entirely unsure of wether you should be praying to the god that would ever let this happen to you. unsure of what you'd even be praying for if you were to pray at all.

for a husband who would always be half there? a husband who'd so easily forgotten the woman he'd married and loved the moment he took one step out of your grasp? for a marriage that would always have foundational cracks. you knew you couldn't build a home on cracked foundation, but dear god did you want to.

matthew was everything you'd ever wanted.

was. is.

you weren’t sure anymore. you had no idea what your relationship stood for now. you’d always had trust issues always had each other. always had honesty. and now you had nothing. you were scrambling to pick up any crumb of hope that might’ve sprinkled itself between the cracks in the broken tile on your best friends bathroom floor. and you’d come up empty handed.

a big part of you was angry. so angry at him. you couldn’t understand why he’d do this to you? why he’d let everything fall apart and destroy the beautiful life you two had created with each other? but no one ever asks the snake why it bit them. they tend to the wound.

so that’s what you decided to do. you decided to tend to the wound. it will always be the nature of the snake to bite. there’s no reason in asking redundant questions like “why?”

you picked yourself up off the floor. you took your shower. you did your hair. you put on your outfit. and you went to work.

and that's what you kept doing. day after day. week after week.

and while you carried on, matt waited. waited for divorce papers in the mail. waited for you to come home. waited for you to show up in his office, screaming and shouting at him and trashing his entire office. he waited for anything from you. but nothing came.

until the fourth week.

your heart was pounding and thumping in your chest and you started to feel woozy. you weren't really sure what to do in this moment. this wasn't how you wanted it all to happen, but this is how it was happening. and before anything, you knew you had to tell him before he found out otherwise. because despite what he'd done, it was only right that you told him yourself. he deserved that much.

your hands were shaking as they hovered above the door to the loft. matt could hear you, of course. you figured he could. but he just waited patiently behind the door. he'd never been so nervous in his entire life. he could hear the envelope shifting in your hand, and he had a feeling that he knew what they were. he was waiting for the moment they'd come, but he was happy that you'd brought them to him yourself. happy that he had the opportunity to salvage your love from the mess he'd made.

when you finally gathered the courage to knock, matt waited a moment. hoping that maybe you wouldn't notice that he'd been waiting behind the door this entire time.

"i appreciate the patience and letting me keep my dignity, but i can see your shadow under the door, matt."

matt swore he'd never heard something as beautiful as your voice in that very moment.

you sounded congested. and your voice was hoarse. like you had a cold.

or like you'd spent the morning crying.

"hi" he let out, as he opened the door.

"hi matthew" you nodded, walking past him and into the apartment.

your heart was beating so hard in your chest that he was sure it was about to fall out.

when you'd walked in, you just stood at the end of the hallway for a moment. the memories of the place you once called home bringing a sinking feeling into your chest. and in that sunken pit began a burning fire of rage and disgust.

"so um...h-how are you?" he stutters out

matt wasn't sure he'd ever been this nervous for anything before in his life

"good" you nodded, taking a seat on the couch

matt sat down across from you on the arm chair and you'd both sat in silence for a moment. neither of you knowing how to approach the conversation.

"i'm sor-"

"please don't." you quickly interrupted, shaking your head.

you didn't want him to beg on his knees in front of you. you didn't want him to bow at your feet like he was attending sunday worship and you were the statue of his goddess that he was required to bow in submission to.

"i just...i can't just give in and roll over and give up on us without a fight. i can't do that. i messed up, i know. i really messed up. i took what we had and rubbed it into the ground like a finished cigarette under my foot. you deserved so much more than that. and i'll do whatever i have to do to fix this. to fix us." he pleaded, coming over to you and sitting on his knees in front of you, desperately clutching his hands in yours.

he could hear the envelope that you were still clutching in your hands crumpling beneath his grip. it encouraged him to tighten his hold in hopes that it would destroy the papers you were holding in your hands.

you weren't really sure what to say, and you weren't even sure you could remember how to speak in this moment. you barely knew how to approach this when the man you married wasn't on his knees groveling in front of you, let alone when he is. so you let the papers do the talking.

you pulled one of your hands from his and handed him the envelope, not saying anything.

"baby please-"

"just...please?" your voice quivered and matt could feel you shaking. but he had a sliver of hope that because you hadn't entirely let go of his hands, that maybe this was reparable.

he refused to let go of your other hand while he grabbed the envelope. the envelope wasn't sealed, so he'd just reached in and grabbed the papers. there was only two pages, which made him furrow his eyebrows. divorce papers were never this thin.

"what-"

"can you just...read it please"

he took his hand from yours and reached out to the paper, only to not feel any raised braille, and he chuckled for a moment.

"i know it's been a while but i'm still blind."

shit. you'd forgotten to translate the papers into braille. which means you were forced to tell him. to speak it out loud. to make it real. it was already real, but like...really real. very very real.

"it's okay....you don't have to tell me." matt attempted to console you after hearing how your heartbeat ticked up.

you shook your head, taking a deep breath in and looking down at the papers in his hand.

"no i...i need to. you...it um. i am..."you tried to sputter out, but then you just sighed, tears welling in your eyes.

this wasn't how you wanted this to happen, and it started to make you angry.

"this wasn't how i wanted this to happen." you cried, attempting to control your breathing but not doing a very good job.

matthew got up from the floor in front of you and sat down next to you on the couch as you let yourself sob. let yourself feel it.

"i know baby. i'm so sorry. i want to fix this, please let me fix it." he pleaded softly, reaching out to wipe the tears from your face.

"i want to be angry at you. and i want to hate you. but i don't and i don't think that i can. and when i thought about how our life was going to play out, this wasn't part of the plan. and now i don't know how to do this. i don't know how to tell you. this was never how i wanted this to happen."

"you can tell me baby. it's okay." he nods, wrapping his arm around your waist and wiping the tears from your face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

you reached down, grabbing the papers, staring at them as your tears dripped slowly onto the pages. you couldn't tell him.

so you didn't.

you stood up and grabbed his laptop that was connected to his printer and you printed out the pages from your email. you were determined to do this the way you planned. because you couldn't bring yourself to do it any other way.

matt sat there listening to the pages printing, and listened to you walk back over to the couch, taking a seat next to him.

"here..." you said softly, placing the papers in his lap.

he raised his shaky hands onto the page and began to read, and then his hands stopped.

"what...what is this?"

"please don't...make me say it. please."

his eyebrows furrowed as he kept reading, and then he stopped. his fingers hovering over the words.

"we....it- what?" he breathed out.

"i'm...pregnant."

___

BAHAHAHAHA I LOVE A GOOD CLICHE WOOOOO PREGNANCY TROPE (corny i know but i have a plan i promise)

taglist:

@luvr-bunnyy @glowstick-lesbian @anothersworld @Mrbillymontgomery @inas-thing @fuck-goes-on @eddiemvnsonss @nia_um @multibishh @takeyour-pants-off @afootnoteinyourhappiness @slut4murdock @multibishh @alexxavicry @drunkangels @desert-fern @caseket @dvredevil-s-initivls @thychuvaluswife @scoliobean @babyblue0t7

[quintessenceofdust88]

Moodboard game ❤️

(wow, lots of tags for this one, thank youuuu!)

I was tagged by @typicalopposite @30somethingautisticteacher @laundryandtaxesworld and @fairytalegonewronga03 for this one ❤️❤️

Rules: Either: choose one of your published fics (or a WIP if you'd prefer), create a moodboard for it and share it along with a snippet. Or: Create a moodboard for your fave episode of the show, fave character, or a fic someone else has written that you love, and share it with some sentences about why it's a fave! (and tag people!)

So I decided to create a moodboard for my priest!Tommy au (officially titled 'Scusa Se Ti Amo', but that's just for show because we all know it'll be called priest au hahaha). I really like how it turned out!!

And a tiny snippet:

Buck thought the church was cooler than the outside, but all of a sudden he's feeling hot all over again. When the priest looks at him, an inexplicable blush creeps up to his cheeks, and he thanks God that he can blame it on the heat and his heavy uniform (never mind that father Kinard's clothes also look heavy and he's still perfectly composed, but Buck definitely won't think about how he'd look all sweaty).

“Thank you, firefighter…” He says, trailing off and extending a hand, and it takes Buck a second to realize he's supposed to shake it and offer his name (not his phone number. Definitely not his phone number).

“Evan. Buckley. Buck!” He blurts out like a complete idiot, and wonders if it's wrong to wish for a five scale fire so they can rush out of there.

Father Kinard raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk on his curved lips. That's when Buck notices he's still shaking hands with the man, and he lets go clumsily. 

“My, that's a mouthful” Kinard says, and Buck almost blurts out that he has something else that's a mouthful before his eyes clock the white collar around the man's neck. 

As it is, he just snickers awkwardly and mutters a goodbye, his voice high-pitched and strained.

Buck's at the truck before anyone else, mentally preparing himself for being teased all through the shift they just started. 

His only saving grace is that, as much as he made a complete fool of himself in front of father Kinard, it's not a problem. Buck'll never have to see the man again, will he? So it's not like it matters.

Naturally, the priest shows up at the station the next day.

Np tagging (I'm not sure who has done it already so if you have I'm sorry, feel free to ignore it hehe ❤️)

@bidisasterevankinard @mmso-notlikethat @agentpeggycartering @unhingedangstaddict and whoever else wants to join ❤️❤️❤️

[pinazee]

I have some random hatchetfield character HC’s (forgive me if any of these are repeats or already mostly canon haha) sorted by musical for ease.

TGWDLM :

-emma kills every house plant she touches but she doesn’t know this because pauls like a savant with plants (plant daddy) and takes care of them without her knowing

-bill and alice used to go to an afternoon tea place every sunday after church. It was their special daddy/daughter activity until alice turned 10. Whenever Alice is feeling down she stops by the shop and grabs a scone. Sometimes she’ll leave one at her dads place before shes taken back to her moms.

-ted was rarely in petes life growing up. By the time pete was old enough to remember him, ted was already moved out. He knew pete looked up to him though, and loved it. He would visit home, tell tales of his conquests (lies), and give pete just the shittest advice on how to pick up chicks (pete was 7).

-charlotte was the badgirl cheerleader in high school. She looked like sandra dee but acted like Rizzo. Thats when she got involved with sam. At her lowest point when she was 26 (having to be saved by the coast guard after a night of partying had her stealing a boat and losing the paddles shortly after, leaving her adrift for several hours) she found the church and changed her ways. This initiated the divide with sam who didn’t like this new version of her.

Black friday:

-toms favorite time of year was the first week of school. The kids were still squirrelly as they adjusted to class periods again, everyone was dressed in their best ready to show off their brace-less teeth or their new haircuts, there was a hum of excitement even as the kids groaned when they got their first piece of homework, and he got to play his favorite “accidentally chopped his thumb off” prank with all the freshman.

-Lindas always had “friends” because of her extravagant birthday parties but there was only ever one that actually knew her. During her 11th birthday, after her father had mocked her pig nose in front of everyone during the cake photo, linda hid in her room, and no one noticed she was gone- except for one boy, who came to see if she was okay. They became close after that. It wasn’t until months later that Linda learned he only came to ask because his mother made him (she was trying to find a way to lindas dad). She was so hurt that she had her dad pay off his parents to transfer him to sycamore.

-the first thing Lex ever bought was a bag of those shitty glow in the dark stars when she was 9 using the money she’d saved by scrounging for cans. She’d wanted them for months after she saw them in a friends house but her mom refused. She kept them up for years, even though they didn’t really glow anymore, because it reminded her that she could get things done on her own.

NPMD:

-steph is a huge gamer. She is frequently the highest scorer in any game she plays but her specialty is shooty games. She’s been known to seek revenge, often killing players she feels has wronged her over and over, hunting them down until the mods have to get involved. (I dont play games like that is that how it works? Lol)

-no one wanted to be the mascot. In fact, the kid who used to be the mascot quit the moment he heard max joined the team. The coach told them they needed one though so max grabbed the first dweeb he saw (richie) and shoved him inside. Richie had no choice but to roll with it, so even though it meant he was a target of maxs more often, it became worth it when people actually started cheering when he showed up. For him, its like cosplaying being popular.

-Ruth writes “friend fiction.” Each chapter is a different scenario on how her and another classmate could become involved. Pete and steph both have multiple chapters. Richie has none (simply because its never crossed her mind.)

-grace was kicked out of debate club because she ended every argument by saying it was gods will

[feastingonchrist]

you guys it was maybe a month ago i was SOBBING to God, not once but twice that week because i was struggling terribly with my social skills and feeling so insecure and embarrassed. I felt like i lost all my progress i had made over the past few years. to now in the past weeks i have felt so much more confident while talking to people, even people at work i barely even know and multiple people have told me they can see my personality coming through/i'm like a new person. that has blown me away!!! He is literally bringing me to life. ALL I DID WAS BEGIN GOING TO CHURCH AND ALL OF THESE THINGS HAVE BEEN POURED OUT UPON ME! i decided to try and not overthink how i'm coming across and what i'm going to say and it's released the pressure off of me. i've surrendered that to God to handle because i didn't want to deal with it anymore and He has been taking care of it so fast. my confidence has grown so much in the shortest amount of time ever in my life. like He really meets me in the darkest places and soon after begins to move and renews my mind and Spirit and attitude and perspective on things. He has been in the process of helping me move through fear as i walk into it but continues to deliver me out of it into a better place. He is helping me with my endurance and it's made me to trust in Him in deeper ways. i've begun delighting in Him with tenderness and am soaking in His peace and it's been grounding. like i've entered a new layer of peace with Him and my gosh it's so gentle and tangible and i just want to stay there forever in that Presence sometimes. my spiritual discipline isn't the greatest at times and He's getting me there (Psalm 23:1-2 moment.) But my goodness it's wild to have gone from believing in Christ but not putting my faith to action to now doing exactly that and i have just been receiving blessing after blessing - whether it's spiritual (seeing grace everywhere) or relational (just people loving me like Jesus or enjoying my job and adoring going to church and talking to people every week as i practice my social skills.) I say this all the time "idk why all of a sudden He's decided to start blessing me in these ways and what did i do to deserve it?" i know i did nothing and that He has always loved me right where i'm at but it's interesting as i follow the patterns of these past few months and i can't help but wonder if it's all because i have been taking steps of faith into the unknown and it's tested my trust in Him and endurance in those "dim mirrors" as Paul would say which has brought me into closer communion with Christ and i've been able to "see more clearly" and understand things on a deeper spiritual level. idk but ugh HE IS SO GOOD I AM CONSTANTLY TOUCHED AND HE IS JUST DOING GREAT THINGS WITHIN ME AND THE OTHERS AROUND ME. I wish i could talk ab these things without sounding repetitive but i swear He is doing these things and having me learn them/lessons over and over again to show me that i can trust Him and work things out of me to bring the new in. i really do love Him so much my gosh i really do. This is the best season of my entire walk with Him since i got saved in 2021 nearly 4 whole yrs ago and i am trying to soak it all in and even process it!!!! so i share all of this on here bc it's a lil diary for me, i love to share what He's doing for me to show others He can do it for anyone and i want to give hope to others with my testimonies. i have had so many of these recently and it's made me so joyful 🥹

[atarathegreat]

The Only One to Wound the King. Kyle "Gaz" Gerrick.

Since he was a young boy, Kyle had been handed everything he ever wanted. As a child, his mother demanded that Kyle get nothing but the best toys, the finest paints and the brightest colors. Kyle was a spoiled child, the very image of a kings son. As he grew older, himself and his father attributed all his finer things to being his mother's prerogative. She could only birth Kyle, as her body was far too fragile to even think about carrying another heir. As a result, the queen poured all her love and care into her son, making sure that he had only the best the world could offer him.

When he was but a young man, twelve or thirteen summers old, the king hired the best archers and swordsmen to train Kyle. If the bloodline were to prevail the one child heir, said heir would need to be extremely good at wielding and shooting.

Once a day training, studies, and learning to fend for himself if the need arose became Kyle's new life. Toys were packed away and his childish garb was replaced with fine silken cloth and weaponry from the greatest smiths in the kingdom. And on the Gods' Day, Kyle would stand at the front of the church beside his mother with his head held high. He was the prince of the kingdom, and many of the towns' women and young ladies were eager to greet him in the hopes of being future suitors. Still, his mother wanted only the best for her only child and turned each of the women away.

It wasn't until Kyle's twenty-sixth summer of breath, that he met the sweet little maid. She had been kept in the lower kitchens, meant only to prepare food and wash linens. She was the daughter of the head maid, a strong old woman who kept the other staff in line. The maids' mother was the best at caring for the family, and perhaps that was why his mother didn't mind them walking around freely and doing their tasks as needed. Everything was neat and tidy, taken care of before the sun was at its highest.

Kyle wanted to see more of the little maid, requested her for everything, and even demanded she be his personal help. Even when he was training, the sweet little mistress was to be with him. Kyle did more during his training and studies, trying to show off as much as possible to the maid. He wanted her to think he was amazing, to look at him with the sparkle all the village women did. As if he were sent to her from the Gods' very hands.

"Did you enjoy watching today?" Kyle stood slightly hunched so her gentle hands could pat and wipe away the sweat on his brow, "I feel as if my form is improving, even more so from how it usually is." It didn't escape him that maybe she was talking to him because it was her job, but he didn't care, so long as he got to hear her sweet voice.

Her hair, typically in a tightly woven braid, was loosely waving about her shoulders, like leaves on the wind the season before his birth. "You should hold your elbows a tilt higher, as your teacher instructs you. Otherwise, you did beautifully, your majesty." Kyle would never tire of her praise, or the way her soft eyes were pinpoint trained on whatever her hands were doing. Everything about this maiden was... enthralling. Kyle didn't want her to be away for any reason.

Perhaps that's why he grew so angry when her father stood at the foot of the throne, asking permission to marry her off to a rich family more west of the kingdom. "Absolutely not!" Kyle protested before the king, "She is my help, and she shall stay where she belongs! Beside me!"

Kyle was, after all, a spoiled child from birth. He didn't care what he had to do to get his way, but there would be no mention of the little maid leaving the castle. She was Kyle's, not some rich pricks. What did this stranger have that Kyle couldn't get? He was the kings son, for the grace of the gods, he was the next ruler of the kingdom! She would be much happier with him than some acolyte.

The king, as ashamed as he was, couldn't bring himself to deny his son's outburst. "Apologies, but she is a much valued member of our castle, and would serve a greater purpose in these walls." Each word was like a stone in the father's gut. His daughter was stuck being a maid.

"I did." Kyle stared into her eyes, taking in the smallest flecks of color, the way her pupils seemed to shrink at his admission. Had she expected him to deny it? He wouldn't. Not ever. She was his.

Kyle was upset all day about the acquisition, short and irritable, even with his precious helper. It wasn't until she was helping him prepare for bed that she spoke. "I know it was you who denied my marriage..." her hands remained gentle, but Kyle didn't miss the subtle anger. Like a smooth stone under the river, slimy and waiting for you to take a wrong step and fall.

Kyle would prove it.

Rough, calloused hands wrapped around her small wrists, pulling her closer to him, "I denied it because you belong with me. At my side, at my heels, as mine. No one else will have you so long as I have a say."

Kyle wouldn't let her reply, didn't want to hear whatever possible protest she would give. He pressed her against the stone wall, his lips attacking hers to keep her silent. Kyle wasn't sure his heart could take a protest from the beautiful maiden. The need in his stomach burned like fire, and her words could douse it easily. There was no way he could just let it happen. "Let me show you that you belong next to me." Kyle whispered as his hands tugged on the simple buttons down the back of her dress. His very soul wanted to pepper her soft skin in the appreciation she deserves for being so loyal, so helpful, and so beautiful.

Before the young lady could try to deny the prince, she was bare to his eyes. Every inch of her silky skin gracing Kyle's eyes, the golden blood he knew ran through her precarious veins, and the very moonlight that was reflected in her eyes. It was as if Kyle were a wizard, and he cast a spell to know her very thoughts. "We cannot!" The young woman pushed on his chest, "I can never have a husband if you continue!"

"I will be your husband! You shall be my queen and we will rule this kingdom! Together! You will be mine!" Kyle yelled, his body crowding her against the stones, as if he wanted her to only survive on the air from his lungs. "You will be my queen, your soul and body and mind will be mine, all of you will be mine." Kyle trailed firm and warm kisses down the space of her neck and shoulder, down past her collarbone, "You will bear my children, raise them with a smile. And I will do everything in my power to provide, protect, and be there for you. I will make sure your smile is genuine, I will sacrifice myself for your very health."

Kyle sat on his knees before the short female, hands clinging to her plush thighs, "Tell me yes. Say you will be the kingdoms princess, say you will be my queen and the mother of my children. Say I can have you now and until my last breath." He was begging, pleading for her to agree. Of course, if she said no, Kyle would let her collect her dress and cover herself. He would let her leave. But he desperately needed her to agree, needed the maiden to be his.

She was silent. It was thick, worrying silence that had Kyle begging with his eyes for her to nod or grab his face or anything he could take as a yes.

"I do not want to be some breed mare." Her voice was small and whispered. Kyle knew that his offer was that of a lifetime. It was rare that a woman became queen in such a way. And to go from maid to queen was like the gods granting every wish at once. But Kyle understood her hesitancy, "You will be a woman first, then a mother, then a queen. I will not keep you pregnant your whole life, and you carry more importance than that in my heart."

"And if I say yes?"

"Then I will take you now, we will have our pleasures and by the end of Gods' day we will be wed. There will be a festival in your honor, your family paid for, and given the rest of their years in ease. I will make sure you wear only the finest dresses, jewelry, and hair accessories. No one will ever harm you." Kyle scooted closer, his mouth and nose dangerously close to her core, "Tell me yes, and I'll make sure that you never feel alone or unwanted. You will be my highest priority, my greatest release, my only love. Just tell me yes."

Her hands, like carefully placed threads in the finest embroidery, threaded under his chin, "And you will hold to these promises?" Gods above, how Kyle loved her touch and voice, the way she looked at him made him ache to feel her. "Every last letter. And if I falter, you will remind me, and I will fix my mistake."

"Then I shall agree to be yours."

Each word had hardly left her lips before Kyle pressed chaste kisses to her core. He needed to prove first and foremost that her pleasure was his priority. Each whispered gasp and plea for just a little more caused his trousers to tighten, but Kyle paid it no attention. "You taste heavenly, like the gods nectar." Kyle used his fingers to spread her delicious cunt open, watching as the nerves pulsed gently under his stare, "Like the greatest honey the earth has to offer me. And you're all mine."

There was a form of gentleness to his hungry movements. The tip of his nose pressed to her sensitive clit, rubbing her firmly as he used his tongue to devour everything he could. "I can't... I can't keep standing, your majesty." As if she couldn't sound any more perfect, her whimpered pants made Kyle melt. He picked her up, moving her to his bed of the finest furs and wool pillows, crawling down to sate his craving of her pussy. She was too delectable to leave alone, and from the new angle, Kyle could now taste more. He stuck his tongue into her depths, moaning as the taste washed over his taste buds. Her pitiful cry of pleasure made Kyle grind his hardened cock against the furs, needing some type of sensation.

"May I have you?" Kyle panted as he placed kisses all over her thigh and lower lips, "May I take you completely?"

"You may." Gods above her voice was so needy and pleading, Kyle couldn't take it anymore. He ripped his shirt, throwing the rags to the floor before kicking his trousers from his legs. "I want to make you feel like you have met the Gods." Kyle forced three of his fingers inside her tight cunt, wiggling them enough to make her squirm and whine, beautiful eyes rolled back as she moaned. His fingers were thoroughly coated with her juices when he pulled them free from her clutch. He had to fight the urge to lick his fingers clean, and stroked his cock to make it slick. "It won't be easy, my love, but I'll be gentle." Kyle flicked the tip of his dick against her clit, biting his lip at the way she jolted and gasped.

She was so tight, squeezing his shaft as he worked his way in. Shallow, slow thrusts, each one deeper than the last until he was finally buried with his balls against her ass cheeks. "You feel amazing, love. Like the greatest silk." Her body clenched around Kyle's cock at his words, a gentle and deep breath giving away her own arousal. Kyle started with firm thrusts, grunting as his tip hit the farthest spongy spot in her hole. "Oh, Gods." The little maid lifted her legs to wrap them around Kyle, her always busy hands gripping his shoulders.

Kyle moved harder, closing his eyes to focus on how amazing she felt around him. Squishy and tight, warm, practically begging for his seed to paint her soft walls. "Feels so soft..." Kyle grunted, letting his mind trail to his primal desires, "I want to mold you to me, love. Want to make it so you can only fit me."

The pleading cries of Kyle's new bride only egged him on, making him move harder and faster. He wanted to hear her cry out his name and wanted her to keep clawing up his back and shoulders. "I want to possess you." Kyle clung to her as he slammed his hips against hers, "I need you."

"T- too much!" His precious maiden dug her nails into his skin, drawing blood from the skin as her orgasm made her shake. Kyle was so close behind her, his cock throbbing as he slammed harder into her, "Gonna make you mine!" He yanked her into a hungry kiss, gnashing his teeth against hers as he treated himself to her tongue and teeth. The fire in his gut exploded, traveling down his shaft until he was spraying into her greedy hole, filling her with his cum.

"You will forever be known as the only being on the realm to ever make me bleed, make me beg." Kyle panted, his forehead against hers as he spoke, "You will be the only queen to have her king on his knees for her."

[squirrellypoo]

Ep8 "What Can The Damned Really Say To The Damned" rewatch thoughts (Part 2)

Here's my second set of things I noticed on my third rewatch! Part 1 is here if you missed it...

11. On Claudia's first visit to the forest, we can briefly see a red mark on one of the trees. When brightened up, it's clearly a handprint, in fresh blood. Edit: ah, it’s not blood but paint from the kids painting their hands and slapping trees to show how far they could go into the forest!

12. I totally missed that the BBC radio bulletin talks about looted art being loaded onto trucks to be taken back to Paris! So that’s how they knew to jump in a truck and be taken all the way there rather than just random hitch-hiking.

13. Morgan mentions that Louis's photo of Grace was printed onto albumen, by a glass-plate camera, and I was intrigued by this and wanted to learn more. If you're also interested, have a read of this Wikipedia article.

14. I thought I must've been missing some sort of reference in Daniel's “Maybe you’re just frosting the pie?” line (about Louis remembering Claudia dreaming), but Google has no evidence this is a saying? So it looks like this was just a Daniel-ism? How odd.

15. Ohhhhh it's a factory they're all camping in! That makes sense, with the thick walls and boiler room, but I couldn't quite work out whether it was a church or meeting hall or what.

16. Claudia is singing the Anna Anna nursery rhyme that the children just taught her in order to lure the pissing soldier into the woods. Nice touch!

17. Both soldiers from the woods are in Daciana's castle. First we see one in the room that Louis and Claudia pass through before the one on the table by the fire that she calls “a burnt tray of bread”. Guess this first guy just dies after a while? Or maybe Louis and Claudia finish him off?

18. In the Dubai bedroom, there’s nothing on Armand’s bedside table (nothing!) but on Louis’s side there are so many well-thumbed books, cascading from the nightstand onto the floor…

19. The TdV programme is for “Des Cris Dans Les Ténèbres!” (Shrieks in the Darkness). I love that the actual item is in French, but the posters up all around Paris are in English, because Louis would’ve translated them into English and that’s how he remembered them! The details! 🤌

20. In the truck scene, Louis is still healing from Daciana’s attack. It made me wonder how long it would take to drive (pre-motorways!) from Romania to Paris. So I looked it up, and using modern roads, but avoiding motorways, it'd take 31hrs straight. But they’d have to break to sleep somewhere safe in the day, and many of the roads and bridges would likely have been bombed and required detours, so I think we can assume it'd take several days to get there. So if Louis still isn't healed by the time we see them outside Paris, he is one seriously malnourished vampire. 😔 The blood really was bad there!

And that's my list of weird things I noticed in the first episode! Part 1 is here if you missed it, and do let me know in the notes if there's any of these you missed, too!

[artist-issues]

What drove me away from Christianity was my pastor saying my autism and ADHD was an excuse for not being able to sit still during church. What the pastor said deeply hurt me and it caused me not to trust any church, even making me angry at Christianity at large for years.

What is your response to this?

I don't think it really matters what my response to it is: it matters what God thinks, and it matters what your response is.

I understand feeling hurt because your pastor reprimanded you for something you actually medically have little to no control over. That is hurtful, because I'm sure it makes you feel like the pastor, the guy who's supposed to be caring for your soul and leading you toward Christ, 1) doesn't understand you and 2) doesn't care about how you feel/what your experience is/what is difficult for you 3) has expectations of you that are out of line with reality, but still wants you to meet them. It's no wonder you were hurt. He should not have said that to you.

But a pastor? A human man who's just doing his best but is actually a hugely sinful creature, just like the rest of us? One pastor is not Christianity.

"Christian" just means "little Christ." A person who's trying to be like Jesus Christ, and has dedicated their life to following Him and doing what He says to do and being in a growing, loving relationship with Him. That's a Christian. So if you "walked away" from that because of what one human man said? Maybe you misunderstood what Christianity is.

It's not a social club that is there to make everybody feel welcome and accepted for who they are. It's not a social club. It's not even really supposed to be what the world calls a "religion," which is another word for "social club with sometimes-cultic practices."

Again: Christianity is supposed to be a person trying to follow Christ and be more like Him, and having a personal relationship with Him while that's going on. One of His commandments is that we do it together, as an imperfect-but-graciously-trying group, so we follow that commandment.

But again, I guess my point is, are you telling me you walked away from any potential relationship with the almighty Deity, the God who made you and loves you and orchestrated the events of history to put Himself through unimaginable torture so that He could be in that relationship with you, an imperfect enemy of His...because some other imperfect creature He created said something hurtful to you?

Would you walk away from your dad because your dad's little brother said something hurtful to you?

I'm not minimizing your hurt. I'm saying, stop attributing what imperfect people do to the perfect God who shows them the same grace He shows you. When you're immature, ignorant, or inconsiderate and hurtful to others, He doesn't approve, but He doesn't smite you with a lightning bolt on the spot, either. Same thing with His response to that pastor who hurt you. He gives you the same grace He gave that pastor. Because it's really all about who God is, who Jesus is, not who the imperfect people who try to serve Him are.

Jesus was not like that pastor. God is not like that pastor. Jesus healed a deaf man. But before He healed that deaf man, He signed out what He was about to do. He took a guy who had been shunned by society for his disability, a guy who was rarely ever communicated with, and before He ever healed him, Jesus compassionately got on his level and took the time to communicate with him. Jesus did not have to do that. He was the supreme Being who spoke that human into existence; AND He was about to take the disability away. He didn't have to be kind and take a moment to treat the deaf man like a human, first. But He did.

Back in the Old Testament? Being left-handed was considered a huge disability. But God chose a left-handed guy to be his prophet, and to be the warrior that killed a monstrous abusive king.

Jesus treated people who had any kind of medical trouble doing what other people do with compassion and grace. God chose those people. That is the example Christians are supposed to follow: that is what the pastor who hurt you got wrong. But what he did was get it wrong. Don't walk away from a relationship with Christ because of what one of His imperfect kids got wrong about Him.

See who Jesus is for yourself and don't let imperfect humans stop you from doing that.

[radvimes]

A response to the LDS Church's new Anti-Trans Policies

I just sent the following email to lgbt@churchofjesuschrist.org, and thought it would be worth sharing here, as well:

To whom it may concern, assuming it concerns anyone in HQ-

This email may not be perfectly worded, but I felt it was more important to voice my concerns now than to wait to word them perfectly. I may send more emails in the future.

As far as I can tell, I am exactly the sort of person you want to remain in the church: lifelong member, returned missionary, temple recommend holder, temple worker, sealed in the temple, 3 kids, upper middle class educated Millennial straight white male Melchizidek priesthood holder with nonmember friends that I talk religion with on occasion. However, you're losing me and people like me. I listened to what the church has taught me all my life. I served a mission and went to a non-church college with an institute program and met all sorts of new people from all sorts of backgrounds. I learned that my mission president was secretly gay, and had been repressing it all his life due to harmful church teachings and cultural pressure. I sat with these experiences. When we started the Come, Follow Me program, I faithfully studied all 4 books of scripture in a way I never had before. As I did so, I recognized that the messages I saw taught over and over and over were ones of love and grace. I learned that Sodom and Gomorrah's sin wasn't homosexuality, like I'd heard all my life. It was pride and a refusal to care for the poor and needy. Jesus didn't call people to repentance for being lax in their temple worship or observance of church law; he called them to love one another, pray for one another, be humble, and actually feed and care for one another, especially those we deem unclean, unworthy, or the "least" of us. He showed over and over that his good news is often a kind word, a loving hug, and an invitation to share a meal and a table.

Today, as is poignantly demonstrated by remarks by leaders like Elder Holland and President Oaks, and by relevant church handbook policies over the last decade and the last month, it is easy to conclude that in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, our LGBTQIA2S+ siblings are considered the least of us, even unclean, unworthy, and unwelcome. I had a Jewish friend ask me to tell him about the recent policy changes re: how the church treats trans members, and I had gotten maybe halfway through the changes when he simply said, with a sober expression "so the church has made it clear they aren't welcome, then?" Whether that was the intention or not, that is the message we are sending, loud and clear. That simply cannot be the message our loving Heavenly Parents and loving Savior have for us and our queer siblings. If the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is meant to share the good news of Christ with all of God's children, then we need to actually figure out what good news we have to share with God's children who are queer, or who are like me and care about those that are, and we need to do it quickly, because right now, the only news we have is that they aren't welcome, that we don't particularly have a place for them, and that we don't especially care to. We can do better. We must do better. Right now, we are failing far too many, and it breaks my heart, and the hearts of so many who want to heed Jesus' good news and the 2 great commands to love. We went through a very similar struggle with regards to our black siblings, and did at least 1 right thing in 1978. We can do more right things again.

Regards,

[radvimes]

[hyesunnyshine]

Mutually Exclusive (Dawn and Dusk)

Pairing: Kristen and Bucky Applebees

Word Count: 2k words

Summary: Kristen has made some costly mistakes this year. But all of them pale in comparison to her biggest mistake of all: being a shitty older sister.

Content Warning: mild language

cooked this up because i love bucky. like that's literally little bro, get behind me pookie

There were three things that Kristen Applebees hated the most. People with no social awareness, flat sodas, and spending time with her parents. So it was no surprise that the Applebees residence was not graced with their eldest child’s presence very often.

It took a couple days after her friends had dealt with Porter and the votes for student body president were officially counted before Kristen had realized it had been nearly two months since she’d checked in on Bucky. She had stood up abruptly from the kitchen table, leaving her portion of Lydia Barkrock’s lasagna half-finished, to immediately give her younger brother a call. 

To add salt to her wound, he picked up on the second tone.

“Kristen! Congrats on being student body president. I prayed to Helio at church for a month straight asking if he could watch over you and help you win. I’m so glad it worked!” 

The twang in his voice was reminiscent of the way her old classmate Buddy would talk. But where the Dawn’s had a gritting accent that always put Kristen on edge, Bucky’s was sweet and playful like a rollercoaster. Her brother always had a way of making her smile and shake her head in amusement.

“Thanks Bucky, I really appreciate it. How were your exams? Everything go well?”

“Oh it went okay. I feel really good about the written exam for paladin classes. I used Professor Dawn as a source for my essay about Helio and Sol!”

“Oh,” Kristen’s speech trailed off in surprise. “Okay, I hope that’s not a conflict of interest…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Anyway, now that you have a lot of time, why don’t we hang out soon? You could come to Mordred? I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

“Um…” Bucky paused, hesitance in his voice. “I don’t know. Mom and Dad said that the haunted manor was full of the spirits of sinners.”

Kristen grimaced. Damn our parents and their Helioic bullshit. 

“But…” Her ears perked back up at the sound of her brother’s voice. “I did want to ask you a bit more about your god– er I mean your worship practices. Yeah. Maybe I could take your advice and, uh, apply it to Helio and our church.” Bucky’s words come out more robotic than Principle Grix. He never was the best liar.

“Of course! I’m always open to sharing some insight. And hey, I’ll show you my super cool bedroom. You know I sleep in a chapel?”

“Wait really? Woah, that's so cool!” A low voice barks from the other side of the line, and Bucky resumes speaking in a rushed tone.

“I- I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh okay–”

The line disconnects, and Kristen is left with an unspoken I love you lingering between her crystal and Bucky’s.

- - -

Kristen stands at the front door of her family’s house for ten minutes before she musters up enough courage to ring the doorbell. She expects to see Bucky being the one to open the door, but instead a displeased Mac and Donna Applebees greet her in the doorway.

“Oh,” the cleric instinctively shrinks into herself before a voice bat’s the anxiety away. Come on Kristen, you’re better than this. They don’t control you. She clears her throat.

“Hey, is Bucky ready to go?”

Her dad narrows her eyes. Yesterday, Kristen had sent them a message on her crystal to notify them of her arrival. No request or ask, just a simple I’m picking Bucky up tomorrow at noon. It was a harsh way to approach them, but she feared Bucky wouldn’t have been able to leave their parent’s watchful gaze any other way.

The Applebees say nothing, just continue to inspect her like she’s an inappropriate sculpture in a public park. Kristen shifts her eyes from her mother and father to inside the house, where Bucky comes barreling down the stairs in a yellow button-up and khakis, a baseball cap with a corn kernel patch in his hand.

“Hi Kristen! I’m ready to go.”

Her face immediately lights up. “Hey bud. Let’s get outta here.”

Bucky rushes out of the doorway excitedly, and before Kristen can do the same, Donna reaches for her forearm and taps her.

“Have him back by seven.”

Kristen looks at her mom’s eyes. The same critical and disappointed stare, but something is different this time. She can’t quite identify what it is, but it feels similar to hope. Of what? That she’ll re-embrace her family’s problematic worship? Or that Bucky will eventually learn how imperfect his older sister is and come to dislike her? Maybe she’s being a bit too cynical, or maybe it’s realistic. Kristen’s not sure.

But it gives her just enough determination she needs to nod and follow Bucky into the street.

- - - 

After a tense introduction to the company of Mordred Manor (unfortunately, Wretchrot has impeccable timing and nearly scared the life out of Bucky), the two make their way into Kristen’s room, a tray of sandwiches and potato chips from Lydia in their hands. She opens the door unceremoniously, setting the tray of food at her messy desk, before turning to her brother with arms spread out theatrically.

“Ta dah! This is my room.”

Bucky takes a moment to absorb his sister’s new life. The lesbian flag and star decals on the walls, the coat rack with her yellow track suit jacket and cowboy hat hanging from it, and her bookshelf filled to the brim with all kinds of books about deities, knick-knacks from her adventures with the Bad Kids, and a small glass case with the purple shards of her goddess Cassandra floating in it.

“Wow…” Bucky’s words dwindle as he sits at the edge of the bed, starry-eyed.

“I know, it’s a bit lame. And dirty.”

“Are you kidding me?” The boy breaks from his trance to look at his sister. “This is so cool! Your room is awesome.” 

For once, the full force of her brother’s awe for her hits Kristen without an ounce of her parent’s gloom to dampen it, and she can’t help but feel a bit teary-eyed.

“Thanks Bucky.”

After Bucky does a scan of her book collection and they finish eating their lunch, the Applebees siblings flop on the bed, a steady conversation passing between them.

“I didn’t really want to enroll as a paladin, ya know.” Kristen turns her head toward her brother at this. His arms are up in front of him playing with a stuffed corn plush from her desk. “But Mom and Dad insisted. Apparently one of the advisors for paladin classes told them it would suit me best.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Me neither. But they only told me once word got out that the teacher died. Must’ve been bad enough that they decided to tell me.”

Kristen’s stomach fills with dread. “Oh, what was the teacher’s name?”

“Mr. Cliffbreaker. He was kinda scary-looking at first, but he really cared about my oath and stuff, even gave me private lessons to help.”

At this, she shoots up into a seated position. The sudden movement scares Bucky into dropping the stuffed toy flat on his face.

“What did he teach you? Was it about anger?”

“Sorta, I told him that I was frustrated at my party for pushing me away because I kept talking about Helio, and he told me to turn that into a feeling I could channel through my paladin oath.” Bucky pauses, thinking for a moment. “I think he mentioned justice and vanquishing sin.”

Kristen is silent, and he takes that as a sign to go on.

“I don’t really remember, honestly. Stopped tutoring me after winter break because of some teacher stuff he said. So I never got too far with it.”

When Fig decided to audit paladin classes. 

Bucky sits up so he’s eye level with his older sister. “It kinda didn’t feel right with me? I don’t know, I didn’t miss it when we stopped the lessons. Maybe I’ll try–” He cuts himself off again, “I mean, now I can dedicate my time to an oath for Helio. Yeah.”

Whatever he was going to say next is cut off from the hug Kristen tackles him with.

“Uh, Kristen?”

She doesn’t respond, scared that her voice will crack and give away her crumbling demeanor. Tears are beginning to pool in the bottom of her eyes, but she commands her body to not let them fall.

I almost lost my brother. A tear falls onto her cheek and she quickly wipes it away. I almost let Porter manipulate my fucking brother for his twisted plan. And I would have been powerless to stop him. 

The thought repeats in her head like a fire alarm. He would have taken Bucky from me. He would have turned Bucky against me. He–

The voice pauses. No. Porter didn’t try to steal her brother. Kristen let him.

She remembers the first day of junior year, how Bucky’s face had lit up with excitement, but Kristen was too busy trying to get a reaction out of their parents. How Bucky always tried to approach her during lunch breaks and after school, but Kristen always had somewhere to be or something to do. How, when Kristen met up with her family for brunch to gather intel on Bobby Dawn, she spent the entire time talking to their parents, and Bucky was silent the entire time at the table.

Why, the voice echoed, why after all the shit you caused this year have you not learned your lesson. Why do you insist on blaming others before anything else.

They stay in an embrace for a long moment, Kristen wordlessly rubbing Bucky’s back, him eventually bringing his arms up to wrap around his sister’s shoulders. It takes a bit of time for the cleric to recompose herself, but eventually she does and leans back. Her brother, a quizzical look to his eyes, waits for her to say something.

“Yeah, it doesn’t suit you.” She ruffles his hair and Bucky lets out a giggle.

“Tell you what, why don’t we head to Basrar’s? My treat.”

“But the cleric stuff–”

“That can wait, it’s your summer break!” She gets up from the bed and grabs her staff, teddy bear, and track jacket to tie around her waist. “No need to think about school during vacation. Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve split a banana sundae between us”

The sparkle in Bucky’s eyes returns at the mention of ice cream and he leaps off the bed, cap falling off his head, and out the cathedral doors. Kristen snorts, picking his hat off the floor and running after him.

- - -

The sun is starting to set as the Applebees siblings walk down the suburban street and back toward the house. Bucky, feeling rejuvenated after the sugary treat, is talking excitedly about ideas for his sophomore year project.

“I mean, I know we won’t be able to do something as amazing as you and your friends, but maybe a small mission to spread the word of Helio would be good. Like, maybe up in the mountains of chaos–” He stops as his feet reach a familiar driveway.

 “Oh, we’re already here.”

Kristen doesn’t need to be particularly insightful to see the disappointment in her brother’s face, but he quickly masks it with a smile.

“I had a lot of fun. Can we do this again?”

“Of course, Bucky. You’re my brother.” Bucky’s face shoots in a bigger, more genuine smile, and he throws his arms around his sister for a quick hug.

“Okay! I’ll see you later then.”

“Wait!” She interrupts him before he can turn to go inside. She takes her teddy bear and hands it to Bucky. “I want you to have this.”

He looks at the toy with confusion before she continues.

“It will, uh, help you with spell casting. I used it to help me not feel overwhelmed by everything that goes on during intense fights. Kinda like an emotional support animal?” Kristen feels her cheeks flush. God, she was always terrible with words. “Maybe it’ll help you with paladin stuff. Or- or if you wanted to try something else out, it would be helpful.”

A wet sniff cuts off her next thought as she sees Bucky begin to cry. Immediately, she begins to panic and fuss over him.

“Oh fuck– I mean, oh gods. Hey, I’m sorry bud. I didn’t mean to upset you!”

“No, no.” Bucky wipes his nose with the back of his hand. “Thanks, Kristen. I love it so much.” He smiles, eyes red and slightly swollen from tears, and takes the teddy bear into his arms and squeezes it tight. “I’m gonna take really good care of him. Swear it.”

Kristen smiles as relief washes over her. She ruffles her brother’s hair one last time.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“See ya!” 

With a final wave, Bucky runs through the front door, and Kristen watches as a small shadow goes up the stairs and disappears as the lights come on in her little brother’s bedroom.

[catladyoftheyr]

「 ✦ 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 & 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 ✦ 」

Warnings for: religious trauma, religious guilt, religious abuse, mentions of lent, smoking/drinking, catholic school, sex, violence/fighting, confession, prayer

Notes: this is based off an AU of a fic I’m hoping to get out this weekend where Miguel is an up and coming boxer with a checkered past. This is my! Miguel i make the rules 😘

Poor Miguel embodies catholic guilt to me. I feel like he went to catholic school and never recovered. He’s always had a temper and he’d get into fights with the other boys. He’d come with a bloody lip or a chipped tooth. I know Nuns stopped using corporal punishment in the 70s but this is my AU. Poor Miguel would get an earful and have to stay after to write lines and clean erasers. And if he was especially unlucky, a paddling. All of this only made him more angry.

He learned the Bible backward and forward. He learned his prayers, how to do the Rosary and say the Our Father. Raised to say Grace before every meal, to say your prayers on your knees before bed every night. To thank God for letting you live to see another day. He went to church every Sunday and he got his first communion and his confirmation. The photos are framed on the mantel in his parent’s home.

His anger never went away as he got older. He was known to pick fights, and to get kicked out bars. He was a rebellious teenager, mad at God, and at himself. He felt that it was going to hell anyways, he might as well make it worth his time. He’d sneak out at night, and drink with his friends. He was rowdy, loud, and reckless. He loved to drive too fast and almost got his license suspended before he’d even had it a year because he had so many speeding tickets. He’d jump the subway turnstiles and steal small things from bodegas and drug stores.

As a young adult, Miguel had a steady girlfriend. It was rocky but he was trying his best. He really cared about her and wanted to clean up his act for her. She was patient and tender, just like the Saints were supposed to be. She was a Good Catholic Girl, just what his parents wanted. But Catholic school doesn’t provide sex education. They got pregnant; Their parents pressured them into a hasty marriage before she could start showing. That’s what you’re supposed to do.

They had a beautiful baby girl, Gabriella. Miguel cried the day she was born. He knew he’d love her more than anything else for the rest of his life. He tried so hard to get his shit together for real this time. He got a real job, even. But the pressure to be the strong man of the house got to him. He started drinking heavily again, and he’d stay out late. His wife found out he was unfaithful and she left, taking Gabriella with her. Miguel’s bad behavior only gave him weekends and every other holiday.

He felt like the sky was falling, and he spiraled. He went back to church and talked to the priest. He was told to have faith in the Lord to guide him. The Lord was his shepherd and he must be patient and willing to listen. What a lousy shepherd

He eventually landed in prison for a couple years. Assault and Burglary lead to hard time. He got out on good behavior but didn’t have anywhere to go. He found a distant cousin to crash with until he got on his feet. His cousin frequented a local boxing gym, and Miguel fell in love the sport. He was a natural at it, and it was healthy outlet for his emotions.

He was working on a better custody deal with Gabriella’s mother when suddenly she passed away in a tragic accident. Miguel had found himself thrust into full custody. He enrolled the young girl in Catholic school, hoping for her to have a better relationship with God than he did. His life was just starting to be back on track when he met you at the bus stop. You’d dropped your token down a storm drain and he’d paid for your fare. He’d assumed that would be the last time he’d ever see you, but you’d slipped a post it with your cell number in his bag.

Will everything get derailed again? Or will Miguel find another saintly woman to love?

[strlitetheatre]

MARK CHASITY THOUGHTS !!

thank you @biscuits-spooky-diner [ sorry for the tag again lol ] for reminding me w ur reblog i went fucking bananas w this LMAO

a lot of these are heavily headcanon-centric and i wanna preface that before i get into it bc i know some people may not agree!! thats fine!! i just like thinking these silly lil things

thoughts below the cut because its a Lot and i may add to this but idk?? shrugs we'll see

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starting off strong, i really am a sucker for the 'two [ or more ] characters that one actor/actress plays are related on some level' concept and i believe mark and duke are cousins bc CAN U IMAGINEE

theyre cousins on their moms sides but their moms dont really get along due to differing views and ways of parenting, but mark and duke are pretty close. theyre each others favourite cousin

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

mark and karen are both gay in opposite directions but they were very close friends growing up due to overlapping social groups (their parents, church groups, most likely abstinence camp goers, etc), and because of their respective families and being unable to be true to themselves, they got married and had grace very early after they graduated highschool

mark loves karen very much, but purely platonically. he is the type to tease her, sometimes poke fun at her, and he respects her immensely! they both work insanely well as a duo, and they hold down the fort of their picket fence home extremely well, but they are not in love

he n karen live a very domestic life, they can even be pretty physically affectionate at times [ hugs, cuddling, kisses to the head, cheeks, hands even ] and share quick 'i love you's before separating for the day, but something about it was always just slightly askew from romantic love and affection

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circling back to highschool, mark and ted definitely had a secret on-again-off-again relationship for at least a few months to a year.

they inevitably fell out because ted was sick and tired of being kept as a secret [ i have so so many thoughts about the spankoffskis too dont get me started on that tho ] and ended up giving mark an ultimatum: either choose to stay with ted and become public, or choose his family and run away from himself

i think its clear which mark chose. they dont talk much anymore

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his middle name is anthony :33 no reason for this i just think it fits. mark anthony chasity :3333

he is a very sensitive man! growing up was extremely hard for him between an overbearing and coddling mother, and a hardassed and pushy father, and being heavily sheltered on top of it all

he wasnt shown a lot of genuine love and affection growing up (his mother would lovebomb him, his father didnt believe he needed it, and they were both pretty strict considering he was their only child) and he tries to do better with grace but still ends up unintentionally repeating cycles out of wanting to keep her 'safe'

he truly does love his daughter, he loves grace s o fucking much, but he n karen didnt have many positive role models to base themselves off of parenting-wise, therefore carrying a lot of fabricated truth into their relationships both separately and together with grace

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mark has an architecture degree and he would love to be an actual architect but alas. realty was what he could get into

hes the one in charge of most of the chasity homes interior decoration! he has an eye for colours n specifically he really enjoys pastels, but his favourite colour overall is actually green

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MARK CHASITY IS THE MARK FROM WORKIN BOYS [ getting forcefully pulled off stage, gripping the mic ] PLEASE P[LEASE JUSR HEAR ME OUT

before mark began working in realty, he worked at a bank. golden parachutes bank [ 'golden parachutes' is something mentioned in show stoppin number w like no context?? this concept is my gfs idea tho ] [ **I WAS INFORMED ITS A BUSINESS TERM but atp i feel like hatchetfield Would have a bank named after a business term lmfao ]

mark met greg through duke when he was about 20 or so [ I ALSO FIRMLYY BELIEVE THE GREG FROM WORKIN BOYS IS MAXS DAD BUT MY JÄGERMAN FAMILY TREE IS A WHOOOLEE OTHER CAN OF WORMS ], began seeing him, and greg was the one to bring mark into the polycule around 23-24

all of them worked at the bank! henry hidgens was one of the younger executives there

HIS N HENRYS DYNAMIC SPECIFICALLY was never sexual i believe, but it wasnt healthy overall because there was a power imbalance between them, and i also believe mark wouldve been one of the younger men in the polycule

henry and mark had a very 'wolf and lamb' dynamic, mark being perceived and treated as 'innocent' due to how he carries himself and how he was raised, and henry sometimes doing specific things to intimidate and even scare mark

all in all things do not go well. yeah. i am Not gonna get too deep into that bc it delves into pure indulgent au headcanon bullshit [ this entire post rlly lol ] but to shorten it: i believe mark to be a sole survivor of the workin boys incident in some aus and after the deaths of the boys he quits the banking job n goes into realty god bles

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coughs. anyway. he really likes historical art and i believe mark n grace are so similar in how theyre both So abnormal about historical things [ graces general interest and infatuation w the waylon place and its history that she basically infodumps about in npmd ]

he would infodump about historical pieces and their stories to anyone that would listen, which is usually his wife or daughter

SPEAKING of historical art n bringing back his architecture degree, when grace was around 10 mark built her an exactly-to-scale miniature replica of the waylon place as a dollhouse, down to the scaffolding, lighting, wall decor, etc

it took him years and was a complete surprise. it is his favourite and most pride-inducing project to date, even more bc it was for his baby