#both of the twins are honestly. what the fuck was their childhoods like that made them like that

[nerdrooikat]

drabbles about the deer imagery in The Secret History (specifically in relation 2 Camilla) because her becoming a deer/believing that she did stuck in my mind (although this post will mostly take Camilla and the other's recollection of events to be as they recount it – if i examine it in it's effect as an incorrect account, that would be in a separate post)

Obviously there's, on a meta level, an irony to it – Camilla and Charles are named to make fun of the Princess Diana scandal that was happening at the time, and so ironically Camilla transforms into an animal sacred to Diana.

There's also a parallel that I think could be interesting to make between Camilla and Taygete, who for anyone unfamiliar, was turned into a deer by Artemis to protect her from Zeus' sexual advances. Although I think that what happened in the Bacchae was concensual sexually, I think it could possible be indicative in Camilla's narrative role as the "wanted"/"desired" one within the greek class – by Charles, Henry, Richard (although he wasnt there) and even Francis, although he wants to be her more so than actually wanting her.

Additionally, outside of how it actually functions within the story, her transformation into a creature associated so closely with innocence, especially in relation to Diana/Artemis' virginity, might perhaps be tied to Richards view of her as this "pure" and "virginal" person – obviously we know this is far from the truth, and he himself learns this later, but I think it definitely ties into this flawed angelic idea of her he so covets.

I think this interpretation ties into the myth of Actaeon (in terms of "deer transformation myths") although its very interesting to me that they different at key points – Camilla, the "virginual" character, is the one transformed, rather than the sexual transgressor (Charles) or the one who introduces miasma (Henry). But, like Actaeon, she is pursued and hunted – which, another key point – Actaeon is pursued and killed by his own hunting dogs, and Charles returns from the ritual with a bite mark, perhaps tying him into the myth thurther?

[unpopularwriter25]

Heyoo~ I'm not sure if you're going to accept making Yoriichi Tsugikuni x reincarnated! Reader or nah, but I'mma gunna send u my idea anyways!!

Same concept as my first Tanjiro x reincarnated! Reader. Except this time, Reader is Gen-Z, take no bullshit, vines, memes, and running on energy drink 24/7 (or night owl in this case). Imagine her knowing about the Tsugikuni Twins problems and tries to make those two bond together. Also please note: Yoriichi & Reader is childhood friends/fiance (arranged marriage stuff)

Gen-Z! Reincarnated! Reader is the best support girl and 10/10 WILL throw down anyone who insults Yoriichi. And honestly I just wanna know what's Yoriichi's expression will be like with a girl like Reader 😂. That, and I wanna a lot of whole some of Yoriichi and Reader.

Also if you can't make Yoriichi, that's fine, you can change the character to Giyuu if you find it hard to write Yoriichi. Thank youuuu <33

Also I'm now 100000% ur fan. 💌

Sorry for the delay!! You're feeding me the best demon slayer request and I'm completely here for it!! lol. I hope this is what you wanted and I hope you enjoy!! Thanks again for the requests!!

Memes, Energy Drinks, and Samurai: The Tale of a Gen-Z Girl Reincarnated

Summary: When a modern-day Gen-Z girl, Y/N, is suddenly reincarnated into the era of the Tsugikuni twins, she brings her take-no-bullshit attitude, love for memes, and boundless energy along with her. As she navigates this ancient world with the memories of her past life intact, she becomes childhood friends and fiancée to the stoic Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Determined to mend the fractured bond between Yoriichi and his estranged brother Michikatsu, Y/N uses her modern wit and fierce loyalty to bridge the gap between them.

Warnings: Language??

Word Count: 1,504

Y/N was an ordinary Gen-Z girl from the modern world. She was known for her vibrant personality, her love for memes, vines, and a perpetually optimistic outlook on life. She was a night owl, often staying up late, fueled by energy drinks, and scrolling through social media or binging on the latest trends.

Y/N was fiercely protective of her friends and family, always ready to stand up for what she believed in. Her "take-no-bullshit" attitude made her a reliable and formidable friend. Despite her seemingly carefree demeanor, she had a deep sense of responsibility and loyalty.

She's not exactly sure how she died, it's all a blur to her. She didn't even realize she had been reincarnated into a world vastly different from her own until she hit 20 years old. Before that point, she was completely at a lost.

From a young age in this new world, Y/N exhibited the same fierce personality and boundless energy she had in her past life. She quickly became known for her eccentric behavior and her strange, yet endearing, mannerisms. It wasn't long before she caught the eye of the Tsugikuni family, especially young Yoriichi.

It wasn't long before the two became very close. Y/N was constantly standing up for Yoriichi, she didn't stand for people being mean to him. Both of their families aknowldege their closeness and decided that once they were both of age they were to be married.

A few years have passed since this time, Y/N was now 20 years old and she was engaged to Yoriichi. She continued to feel out of place but that didn't stop her, she was still known around the village for her strange behavior, but the majority of them adored her. She constantly referenced things that made no sense to those around her, she didn't even realize where they came from.

Y/N would call him dude or bro. Yoriichi would look at her and be like "I'm your fiancée. Please do not call me bro?? Whatever that means." Y/N would nod "Sorry bro, shit, sorry dude, FUCK."

One day while she was training with Yoriichi, she developed a throbbing headache followed by her eyes getting all blurry, she felt like everything was spinning. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get it to stop. She collapsed, overwhelmed by everything. Yoriichi rushed to her side, and when she came to, she remembered everything, everything about her past life. The realization was both shocking and comforting. She understood now why she felt so out of place, yet so familiar with certain things and people.

From that point on Y/N's behavior became more like her past life's behavior. She also just started dabbing at the most random times. Yoriichi would witness this and be like "What was that? " Y/N would shrug "It's called a dab and it felt needed in this situation." She even figured out how to make a DIY energy drink. Did it taste good? No. It was effective though. Yoriichi got a whiff of it one time and said it smelled like death. "Yeah it tastes like it too, but it makes me feel fuckin fantastic." she'd respond while chugging another one, slamming it down. "Woooh! Let's go kill some demons!" Yoriichi has to suppress his smile, he has to be the mature one in this relationship.

Since Y/N didn't have her phone anymore, she would just draw the most random memes on paper by memory. Yoriichi would find these random drawings throughout the house. "Why is this cat playing a piano? That's not possible." Y/N would facepalm "It's a meme." "Y/N cats don't have fingers, they can't play the piano."

Since Y/N was a no-bullshit kind of person she wasn't afraid to call someone out for being a dick, especially if it was directed to Yoriichi. For real, she'll throat punch someone for him...and she 100% has. Yoriichi asked her how she did that and to teach him that maneuver. Most people know not to fuck with her, but sometimes she'll come across someone that wants to test her...Yoriichi will stand back and watch her break them down with her words...or with her first, you know... in case the words don't work. He absolutely adores his crazy fiancée.

Y/N can also be a very caring person, specifically to the people she cares about the most. One night while Yoriichi and Y/N were outside their house. Sitting down, watching the stars, and enjoying the cool breeze. Y/N decided to speak up about something that has been on her mind. She glanced over at her husband. "Can I talk to you about something?" He looks at her, with a small smile. "Of course my love. What's on your mind?"

"I mean this in the best way possible and I say it out of love, but you need to stop being a bitch and talk to Michikatsu." Yoriichi pauses.."Did you...did you just call me a bitch?" he asked in disbelief. Y/N covers her face "Bruh, you're missing my point. Michikatsu is your brother and you two need to talk about your little feelings or some shit with each other."

Yoriichi is trying to process her language, and he shakes his head. "How do you suppose I do that? I'm assuming you have something in mind?" Y/N glances up at him smiling. "Uh-huh. C'mon, I know where he's training." She stands up, pulling him with her.

Y/N dragged Yoriichi to a secluded spot where she knew Michikatsu often trained. Sure enough, there he was, practicing his swordsmanship under the moonlight.

"Oi, Michikatsu!" Y/N called out, hands cupped around her mouth. "Get your broody ass over here!"

Michikatsu stopped mid-swing, turning to glare at Y/N. "What do you want, Y/N?"

"I want you two to talk. Like, actually talk, about your feelings and shit" she said, pushing Yoriichi forward. "You both are driving me fuckin nuts with this silent treatment crap. Y'all need to bond, and I'm here to make sure it happens.

Michikatsu gives Y/N a look and then looks at Yoriichi. "Your fiancée is as charming as ever."

Yoriichi glares at him, "Do not disrespect her brother."

Michikatsu sighed, sheathing his sword. "There's nothing to talk about."

Y/N marched up to him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Bullshit. There's always something to talk about. Now sit your ass down and start talking."

To Yoriichi's surprise, Michikatsu actually complied, albeit grudgingly. The three of them sat in a circle, and for a moment, there was silence.

Y/N broke it with a vine reference. "So, I hear you’re the ‘Sad Boi’ of the family, Michikatsu. Care to elaborate?"

Both brothers looked at her, confusion evident on their faces. She sighed dramatically. "Okay, fine. In simpler terms, why the long face?"

Michikatsu looked at Yoriichi, then back at Y/N. "It's complicated."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Everything's complicated. But you don't see me sulking about it. Just... talk to each other. You guys are twins for crying out loud. You're supposed to have that twin telepathy thing."

Yoriichi finally spoke up, his voice soft. "Michikatsu... I miss the bond we used to have."

Y/N nodded "That's real good" She turned to Michikatsu "Now how does that make you feel?"

Michikatsu rolled his eyes "Is she going to be doing this the entire time?" Before Yoriichi could answer. Y/N started "Yeah I am. So stop your bitching and answered the fucking question."

Michikatsu's expression softened, and he looked down. "I... I miss it too. But things have changed."

Y/N smirked, cracking open another one of her homemade energy drinks. "Then change them back. It's not rocket science." She chugs the energy drink. "Wooh! Brotherly love! I'm gonna go get another one. You two keep sharing your feelings and all that good shit." She gets up and heads back to their house.

Michikatsu stared after her "You're marrying an absolute maniac." Yoriichi eyes lingered on her as she walked away. "Yeah, I'm well aware of that."

Throughout this entire ordeal, Yoriichi's expression was one of quiet amusement and deep appreciation. He was used to Y/N's antics and her fierce loyalty. Her presence was a constant reminder that he wasn’t alone, even in the most challenging times. Her determination to see him happy and her readiness to throw down anyone who insulted him made his heart swell with gratitude.

Seeing Y/N standing up to Michikatsu, unafraid and full of vigor, brought a rare, genuine smile to Yoriichi’s face. Her modern quirks and relentless energy were a stark contrast to his calm demeanor, but it was exactly what he needed.

After hours of talking, laughter, and even some tears, the twins began to mend their broken bond. Y/N watched them with a satisfied grin, knowing she had done her job. As they stood to leave, Yoriichi gently took her hand, his eyes reflecting the moonlight.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything."

She squeezed his hand, her smile bright. "Anytime, Yoriichi. After all, what am I here for if not to kick some sense into stubborn brothers?"

[reallyromealone]

🦉°°°

May I request toman with takemichis little twin brothers? Who both have water guns and sneak in on a toman meeting and start shooting all of toman members with the water gun and just end up ruining everything for everyone.

Event

Masterlist

I hope you like this!

Water guns

Teen Toman x toddler reader w/twin

(Name) and (twins name) looked at takemichi excitedly as they held water guns almost their entire height, the tiny tots excited to play a prank with their brother "you two remember what to do?" Takemichi said to his twin brothers and the two nodded "we go pssssshhh!" (Twins name) said and (name) bounced happily "excellent now, go!"

Toman was exhausted, it was hot and gross out but they had a meeting to do "where's mitchy?" Mikey grumbled annoyed and the others shrugged, many ditching their uniform tops and wearing their under shirts "he better hurry so we can get thi--fuck!" Cold water hit Baji as he covered himself and the rest of Toman looked to see little (name) in a cartoon shirt and shorts with sailboats on them and a water gun that he could barely hold "feeze!" He yelled squirting more people with water and everyone honestly took it as (twins name) came from behind and got Draken in the back and the blond giant was shocked but accepted it "ohoo, we need more guns" Smiley said excited and the others nodded.

That's how they ended up in Mikey's backyard with water balloons and water guns, everyone having a great time as little (name) threw a water balloon, only getting maybe five feet without it breaking and Mikey ended up lifting him and having (name) direct him where to aim, Draken doing the same with (twins name) and Toman pretending to fall if one of them shot them with a water gun, eventually the teens pitched in and ordered a few pizzas and the twins are happily, (twins name) putting the pepperonis on (name)s slice only for the little boy to start crying because that was "to many ronis".

Draken took the small slices of meat and (name) calmed down, the tots and Mikey excited for ice cream.

Takemichi smiled as he tucked the tots in bed, the two in matching pajamas Mitsuya made.

He was glad he could give them the childhood he couldn't have.

[morsmortish]

how do you think evan feels about spiders (i feel like i already know the answer to this but yk)

hello eva 😈

after consulting the gc (which you are on so you may have received spoilers) i can reveal that evan rosier adores spiders. irene made a great post here about the rosiers and their relationship to spiders and i honestly don’t have that much to add to it so go and read for some really good insight!!!

what i will say is that evan’s love for spiders stems from his childhood. the rosier mansions was always filled with infestations of various bugs, and when it wasn’t, all one had to do was step outside into the grounds, which were teaming with different creatures. evan and pandora would abduct different insects and tear them apart limb by limb under a microscope (casual rosier twins childhood activity). evan always found spiders to be the most interesting- the legs, the eyes, the spinnerets. he began to seek them out, until he became entirely accustomed with their ways, and even the spiders that frequented his laboratory started to warm to him as well, out of some sort of instinct. in another life, he even could have been one of those snake whisperers on the side of the street, except with fucking ginormous tarantulas. they started to follow him around, he started to feed them or pet them or shove them inside pandora’s dollhouse.

he also has a pet spider. it’s some sort of deadly tarantula or baby acromantula (rip evan rosier you would have loved aragog) and it sits on his shoulder and terrifies the living daylights out of everyone but him and pandora, who both coo and pet it as if it’s a baby chick. barty even occasionally gets jealous of the outward affection evan shows to this creature. but before barty and evan dated, though, evan adopted another spider and secretly named it barty, tended to it, fed it, stroked it, even occasionally slept in the same bed as it…yeah. that’s what years of emotional repression does to a man.

[tiniedemon]

WEASLEY TWINS . . . kenny mccormick / reader

movie nights as a friend group were usually a hit or miss. there was always popcorn, snacks, sodas, juices, all taking up table space on kyle’s dining room table. he had the largest house out of the four of you, so it only made sense to hold them there.

tonight’s movie of choice was weeks in the making, the final harry potter movie having finished a few moments beforehand. you and kyle had already seen them, the both of you having been raised on the books and the movies coming out. one of your core childhood memories was going to see the sorcerer’s stone in the cinema when it had just come out.

“what did you guys think?” you asked, practically vibrating with excitement. kenny, your boyfriend of six years, slid his hand into yours, his palm flattened and fingers curled to brush your knuckles.

“in my very, very humble opinion, harry potter reigns superior to all other books and movies,” kyle drawled. it was quite obvious he was an avid lover of the series, seeing as he spent every harry potter movie night clad in his ravenclaw quidditch jersey, the horcrux locket hung from his neck and a lightning bolt scar drawn on his forehead in liquid eyeliner.

you were no better, sporting your house’s tie and matching scarf around your neck, sirius black’s wand replica held tightly in your free hand through the entire series. it was clear which characters were your favorite, sirius’s wand and the locket associated with regulus black being key indicators of both yours and kyle’s favorite pureblood brothers.

“honestly,” stan started, a pair of empty framed round glasses perched on his nose and a hufflepuff sweater wrapped around his top half. “i didn’t entirely hate it. maybe you guys aren’t all that delusional for obsessing over it.”

you roll your eyes, leaning forward to grasp the handle of your mug of butterbeer settled on the coffee table. you and kyle had spent years perfecting your real-life rendition of butterbeer, down to the consistency of the fluid and the fluffiness of the foam. in your very humble opinion, it was perfect. it left the perfect foam mustache, slid down your throat easily, and when spiked with a neutral rum, it was the perfect party beverage.

“of course we aren’t delusional, stan. there’s a reason harry potter has such a big fanbase.” you pause, your mug hiding your smile as you prepared to sip from it. “you should see the amount of ridiculous fanfictions about it. i only wish there were more sirius fanfictions out there.”

“there are fanfictions?” stan practically squeaked, looking rapidly between you and kyle. kyle gave a roll of his eyes, fingering the soft fabric of his handmade ravenclaw quilt.

“of course there are fanfictions, stan, but that’s not important right now. did you just say there isn’t enough sirius fanfiction? he’s got loads. the real travesty is the lack of regulus fics that don’t involve fucking james potter,” kyle spoke, eyebrows furrowed. you rolled your eyes, settled your mug back on the table, and fully leaned into your silent boyfriend.

“kyle, darling, as a moony kin i am absolutely devastated that my moody pureblood doesn’t have as much content as, say, draco malfoy.”

“draco‘s got fanfiction?” kenny asked, finally joining in your conversation. you shot him a disgusted look, curling up your top lip and scrunching your face.

“you like draco?” you asked, highly judgemental in tone. kenny rolled his eyes, pressed a kiss to your cheekbone.

“we all have a type, love. mine just so happens to be beautiful, judgemental people,” he mumbled into your temple, a frown on your lips from the backhanded compliment.

“if it’s any consolation, my favorite pureblood is bill weasley,” stan speaks up, drawing your attention to him.

“that honestly makes sense,” kyle drawled, fidgeting with the tv remote.

“wait,” you interject, a smile on your face. “which harry potter characters would we all be?”

there was a round of silence as you all mulled it over, your question for once taken deadly seriously.

“honestly, you and kenny are very remus and sirius. maybe the weasley twins, in a totally not-creepy-or-incest way,” kyle spoke. you gave a victorious smile, kenny reaching around for a fist bump that you indulged him in.

“kyle, i feel like you’re a mix of hermione and ginny. you’ve got, like, the intelligence of hermione and the snarkiness of ginny,” stan hummed, tossing a grin towards the ginger huddled on the couch. kyle seemed pleased, his eyebrows lifting as he acknowledged the statement.

“stan is so snape. he’s got the brooding ass attitude and the hidden romance for his best friend,” kenny mused, laughing boisterously at stan’s pink cheeks and scowl.

“i am always so nice to you,” stan whined. “and you’re always such a fucking asshole to me.”

“i’m just telling it like it is,” kenny defended, raising both his hands to protest his innocence.

“i changed my mind,” kyle hummed. “kenny, you’re draco. you’re an asshole and you don’t feel bad for it.”

kenny guffawed, looking to you for support. you shrugged your shoulders, giggling at the betrayal unfolding before your very eyes.

“i can’t defend you if they’re right,” you said through giggles. kenny huffed, blowing a few hairs away from his face. you pressed a kiss to the pout on his lips and leaned into him, knowing that by the time you got home, he’d have completely forgotten the events that transpired that night.

movie night was a disaster, as it usually was, but at least you could walk away knowing you were a weasley twin. in your books, that was an absolute fucking success.

[colormepurplex2]

The Stars In His Eyes...The Hate In Your Heart | A Ray of Fucking Sunshine

↳Hoseok x f.Reader ⤜ Non-Idol, Brother's Best Friend, Enemies to Lovers ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 7,209 ⚠️ Crass language, hurt feelings, BIG misunderstandings, mild childhood misogyny, childhood abuse-descriptions of welts made by a belt, alluded to parental homophobia and fears of coming out, shared trauma

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to series masterlist

Mad doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling right now.

“You can’t do this to me.”

Your brother—your twin—the one person you’ve always been able to count on, seems to be out to ruin your life.

“Kitty,” Namjoon sighs your childhood nickname with a mild hint of annoyance. “Stop being dramatic. You know this isn’t about you at all.”

Your nose scrunches up. “Dramatic? Joonie, you’re literally asking me to spend the next month proverbially attached to the one person you know I hate.”

“Hate is a strong word,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

It is. But it’s the only one that comes to mind when you think of Jung Hoseok and how you feel about him. It’s not that there’s anything genuinely wrong with him—not really. There are just things—certain events and certain feelings—that you associate with him that you’d rather not think about right now.

You’ve known him for a long time, as he’s your brother’s best friend. A sentiment that makes you sneer and grumble to think about. It still leaves you baffled how Namjoon—the sensible and calm giant he is—befriended such a quirky and persistent person; how Namjoon could continue to choose him even now. They say opposites attract, sure. But, come on, how much more polarizing can two people get before it becomes something from the Twilight Zone?

When Hoseok moved away a few years ago, you thought you’d finally get a break from his constant presence and that niggling in the back of your mind as your emotions and feelings warred with one another. But you’ve never been more wrong. If anything, the distance between Namjoon and his best friend caused them to become clingy and desperate for each other's company.

Every other weekend, Namjoon leaves your shared apartment to drive the four hours south to see Hoseok. Which means, on the weekends he doesn’t drive down…Hoseok drives up. It’s infuriating to share your space with him because, obviously, Namjoon isn’t going to force him to stay somewhere else, even though you’re sure that Hoseok’s parents would be more than accommodating for their son to stay with them.

Now, as if the weekends weren’t torture enough, Namjoon is asking you to spend the next month in near-constant communication with his best friend. Sure, it’s to help plan Namjoon’s wedding, but still. There has to be another way. 

Your stomach churns sourly with the thought of spending so much time with Hoseok. “I can’t do this, Namjoon. Why does there need to be two of us?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re acting like a petulant child right now.”

You want to defend yourself, but you know he’s right. You are acting like a petulant child right now. But what else did he expect, honestly? It’s not like you can tell him the truth about why you would rather not spend time with his best friend.

“He’s going to drive me insane. Don’t you care about my sanity?” You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him across the living room.

The apartment you share with Namjoon is nice, with plenty of space for the two of you to not get under each other's skin too much–as long as a particular jerk isn’t also infiltrating the space. But, right now, it feels like the walls are closing in on you.

“Look, I know you guys don’t get along, but this is for me. You’re my best friend, but so is he. I want you both to be there, standing beside me when I join together with Jin. Don’t let your bizarre dislike for Hoseok ruin this for Jin.”

The fact he’s bringing Jin into this takes the wind out of your sails. “Fuck. Why did you have to bring Jin up? You know I can’t resist when you do.”

If Jung Hoseok is the dark cloud hanging over you and Namjoon, Kim Seokjin is the sun breaking through the haze. You liked him instantly, knowing he was the perfect match for your brother. Five years later, they’re finally getting married, and that’s how you find yourself in your current predicament.

“It’s true, Kitty. Can’t you set aside your differences with Hoseok for a few weeks while we navigate these plans?” Namjoon gives you a pleading look, eyes large and lips dipping down on either side.

You throw your hands up in the air. “Fine! But, I swear if he cops an attitude with me, I won’t hesitate to use brute force.”

Namjoon beams at you, laughing like what you said was a joke. You couldn’t be more serious. If Hoseok so much as looks at you wrong, you’re going to unleash hell on him.

☀️☀️☀️

Hoseok

Taking a month off of work is easy when you’re your own boss and make your own schedule. But, if it’s so easy, why is it that Hoseok finds himself feeling uneasy about it? Oh, right. It probably has something to do with the dozen angry text messages he received from you in the last twenty-four hours. You’ve sent everything from the middle finger emoji to paragraphs of scathing thoughts, mostly revolving around how he’s not needed, and you’re fine to do it all on your own.

In a way, it’s working…he’s tempted just to say fuck it. But, the disappointment that would come from Namjoon outweighs the angst bleeding from you. In all the years he’s known you, he’s never quite been able to pinpoint what exactly your problem is with him. He’s confident he’s always been nice to you. Sure, he was a bit of a shit when he was a kid, but what boy isn’t? After he realized girls, in fact, didn’t have cooties, he was as welcoming to you as he was to Namjoon—or so he believes, at least. He’s chalked it up to just annoyance over his place in Namjoon’s life. Case in point, the latest cascade of texts you sent berating him for infringing on your place as Namjoon’s person of honor.

Pushing away from his desk, Hoseok brings a hand up and rubs it over his eyes, willing the migraine he feels coming on to go away.

“You okay in here, Boss?” Jimin’s bright voice calls from the open doorway to Hoseok’s office.

Dropping his hand down, he plasters on one of his winning smiles. “I’m fine. Just trying to figure out if taking a month off is actually realistic.”

Jimin adjusts the small black duffle bag on his shoulder, leaning his hip against the door jamb. “Are you not confident in my abilities to lead the classes?” There is a hint of amusement in Jimin’s words. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation.

“It’s not that. You know it’s not.”

“Kitty?” Jimin ventures to ask.

Hoseok sighs. “Is it that obvious?”

“What’s her deal, anyway? Did you break her Barbies when you were kids or something?”

That makes Hoseok laugh. “I wish it was that simple. I honestly don’t really know. She’s just always had it out for me. I used to think she was just jealous of mine and Namjoon’s friendship, but the older we got, the less it made sense. They’re siblings. They’ve barely spent a handful of days apart at a time. He’s even made her his ‘best man’ for the wedding.”

“I thought you were the best man?” Jimin asks, confusion etching his face.

Hoseok leans back in his desk chair, perching his elbows on the armrests. “I am. Well, we both are. Namjoon wants us to share the position, which is definitely not helping in the Kitty department. She’s livid and takes it out on me as if it’s my fault.”

“Huh,” Jimin says. “Interesting.”

“I tried telling Namjoon that I’d rather just attend the wedding and that I don’t need some place of honor to let Kitty have it, but he insists. So, here I am, trying to navigate the maelstrom of hate texts I’m getting from her and debating whether or not I should fake sick for the next month. Or I could make up some excuse about not being able to get away from the studio. We do have the annual showcase in two months. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done—“

“Stop right there. You won’t use this studio as an excuse, especially when it’s not even a valid one. The showcase is fine. Taehyung and I are more than capable of keeping things afloat around here while you’re away. And if anything happens, Jungkook is just a phone call away.” Jimin flicks his hand in the air as if dismissing the conversation.

Hoseok’s brows dip down. “Having an EMT on call isn’t exactly an all-encompassing problem solver…but okay,” he mutters.

“No, but he’s pretty to look at, and that’s fine for me,” Jimin snarks, laughing. “Okay, I’m out. Stop worrying so much. For real, everything will be fine here. Enjoy your trip tomorrow, and I’ll see you when you return.”

Throwing up a hand, Hoseok waves goodbye before Jimin disappears down the hall. He knows Jimin is right. Everything will be fine at the studio in his absence. He’s spent the last several years curating the perfect team; he knows they’re competent. Spending an entire month with the tempest you’ve grown to be makes him hesitate to leave his safe harbor. He’s worried about crashing against a rocky shore and being marooned in the dark with just a look from you.

Not for the first time does Hoseok wish he could hate you as much as you hate him. That’s an impossible feat, though. He’s tried so hard over the years, but there’s just something about your fiery attitude and sneering glares that does something to him—something he’s never admitted out loud and probably never will. The fact you’re Namjoon’s twin sister doesn’t help that matter either. He’s unsure how his best friend would react to such knowledge. All the more reason Hoseok needs to keep a level head over the next few weeks.

Taking one final look around his office, Hoseok shuts down his computer, locks his desk drawer, and grabs his gym bag from the corner. “Let the fun begin,” he mumbles to himself as he heads out of the dance studio he’s spent years building from the ground up. It’s his pride and joy, the one thing he wanted most out of life. Well, one of the things.

☀️☀️☀️

“Can you chew quieter?” you seethe, fingers tightening around your chopsticks.

Hoseok’s cool gaze slides your way. He works his jaw for a moment and then swallows. “Excuse me?”

You vaguely gesture with your chopsticks in his direction. “You’re chewing really loud. Can you not?”

“It’s dumpling soup. There isn’t much chewing involved.”

“Well, it seems you’re doing it wrong because I can hear you very much. Too many mouth noises. It’s annoying. So, just stop.”

You knew this was a bad idea when you agreed to meet him for dinner to start working on the wedding plans for Namjoon. Hoseok just grunts in response, dropping his attention back to his bowl. You watch as he ladles a spoonful of the rich broth and brings it to his mouth. His lips have a slight sheen on them from the chili oil he added. It’s hard to look away, your eyes locked on his lips as they part. You catch the tiniest glimpse of the tip of his tongue as he tilts the spoon, and his lips mold to the curve of it.

Tearing your eyes away, you clear your throat and try to focus on the bowl of rice and meat on the table in front of you. Your appetite for the meal is gone, despite the low grumble you can feel churning in your belly, replaced by another sensation you won’t give a moment of thought to. Shaking your head, you dispel that odd line of thinking and force yourself to take another bite of food. It’s tasteless, like ash on your tongue as you chew methodically. This was definitely a bad idea.

The remainder of the meal passes with an awkward tension in the air. You’re on edge, just waiting for Hoseok to do something else to piss you off. But he’s begrudgingly not being annoying right now. You can tell he’s even taking more caution to chew his dumplings slowly to ensure he doesn’t make a sound, not even a soft slurp of the broth. It’s weird to feel guilt. It’s not an emotion you’re familiar with regarding your brother’s best friend. Right now, though, it’s eating away at you with every moment that goes by. Maybe you should put forth more effort to get along with Hoseok—for Namjoon’s sake. 

Your thoughts are still swirling, flopping back and forth between whether your guilt is justified or not, when Hoseok pushes aside his empty bowl and sighs. The soft sound and movement draw your attention. “Namjoon said he was going to give you a list of the things he and Jin would like for us to take care of. Do you have it?”

“Of course I do.” As if you’d be so careless and forget. You abandon your half-eaten meal, shoving it to join Hoseok’s empty bowl. “It’s an entire notebook.”

You reach under the table and grab the messenger bag you brought with you to the quaint restaurant Hoseok suggested meeting at. Your table is set in a far back corner, away from the majority of the noise of the establishment. Flipping back the top flap, you slide out the thin green notebook and set it on the table. The cover is faded, the once bright green now a pale mossy color. The edges are worn, the paper soft under your fingers as you gently open it to the first page.

“How old is this thing?” Hoseok asks, fingering one of the tattered corners.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to snap at him and pull the notebook away from his probing finger, but you remember your earlier thought about playing nice. “Namjoon has had this notebook since we were sixteen. He started writing down everything he wanted in a wedding. He’s changed a few things, added stuff, and even ripped pages out over the years, but everything he wants is here. When Jin proposed last year, Namjoon gave this notebook to him so he could go through it and make his own changes or additions. I haven’t looked through it since then, but from what Namjoon told me, there are only a few changes.” The fond memories help soften your demeanor at the moment.

“Wow, he never told me about it.” It almost sounds like there is disappointment or even mild jealousy in Hoseok’s tone. Usually, you’d feel invigorated by the fact Namjoon shared something with you and not Hoseok, but it’s a lackluster feeling now.

“It’s not exactly something he wanted to wave around and show to the world.” You’re not sure why you’re telling Hoseok this, but the story just emerges. “I remember when our father found it under Namjoon’s bed. He was so…confused and mad.” You idly flip through the first few pages, pausing briefly on the magazine clippings and drawings Namjoon included. “A notebook that more than alludes to two men getting married,” you say softly. “The day Namjoon showed me this book is the day he told me how he really felt, how he liked guys more than girls. Dad found it just a few months after that. His reaction scared Namjoon to the point that he didn’t want anyone else to know. Not for a long time, at least.”

Hoseok makes a quiet, pained sound. “Yeah…” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hate that he felt like he couldn’t be himself, but I know how he felt…my own parents haven’t exactly been supportive of my personal, romantic choices. I’ve lost count of how often they’ve asked me when I will marry a woman.”

Your eyebrows rise. “I didn’t know you…um, well, I guess I just always assumed you—that is to say, I didn’t know you liked guys or…” you trail off, shrugging your shoulders and shaking your head. “Nevermind. I’m sorry.” It’s weird, the sliver of disappointment that worms its way through your belly.

His laughter breaks the suddenly thick atmosphere. “I’m just me. I like who I like, regardless of what’s in their pants.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your lips curling into a smile before you can stop them.

“You have a beautiful smile.” The breath of his words caresses over your lips and chin.

“What?” You jerk back in your seat, not realizing you are leaning in so close over the notebook. “Ew, don’t say stuff like that.”

Hoseok laughs again. “Sorry, I just don’t get to see your smile all that often, I guess. It’s nice.” He shrugs, his own smile tugging at his lips. Tapping a finger on the open notebook, he draws your attention to it. “Tell me more about this notebook. What should we look into first?”

Shoving down the fluttery feeling in your belly, you train your gaze on the notebook and try to get lost in the dialogue of flowers, silk, and tulle.

☀️☀️☀️

Hoseok

Hoseok decides to split his time between staying with you and Namjoon and with his parents. He stays with his parents for the first two weeks, meeting with you almost every evening to discuss plans and make appointments. He’s only managed to catch Namjoon and Jin for drinks a handful of times. They’re both busy preparing their new house, which’ll hopefully be ready once they return from their honeymoon. It’s partly why Namjoon asked Hoseok and you to take care of most of the planning. Something Hoseok doesn’t mind. He just wishes you held the same sentiment.

Each additional hour he spends with you has his outer shell hardening. Last night it seemed you were so hell-bent on pushing his buttons that he actually yelled at you. The words ‘go fuck yourself’ still linger like an echo in his mind. He stormed out of your apartment and immediately called Yoongi, a friend he shares with Namjoon…who also happens to be your ex. Namjoon was busy with Jin, and Hoseok didn’t know who else to turn to.

The rest of last night is a whiskey-laced blur. Now, he’s sitting on Yoongi’s couch with his head in his hands, wincing at every little sound Yoongi makes in the kitchen. Hoseok knows he should probably text you to apologize, but he’s sure the light from his phone screen would make him hurl right now.

“Why did you let me drink so much last night?” he calls to Yoongi, cringing at the loudness of his own voice.

A derisive snort sounds from the kitchen. “You’re a grown-ass adult. Besides, I’m pretty sure you got into my liquor cabinet again after I went to bed. Drinking over a girl is never good anyway.”

“I wasn’t drinking over a girl,” Hoseok snarks, letting his irritation bleed in and replace the ache in his head.

Yoongi swings around the corner with a tray covered in steaming plates and bowls. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. I know exactly how Kitty can be, and I also know you’ve had a crush on her since we were kids.”

Hoseok balks at Yoongi. “I have not!” he shouts.

“Oh, please. I saw the look you gave me after I asked her out. I could tell you were gnashing at the bit to rip me a new one for making a move before you gathered the balls to do it yourself.” Yoongi deposits the tray onto the coffee table, the smell of fried bacon and buttered toast hitting Hoseok’s nose.

“You’re delusional.” Hoseok huffs, snatching up a piece of bacon and shoving it in his mouth. “Why would I like someone who is such a pain in the ass?”

Yoongi settles in the recliner adjacent to the table, a piece of toast pinched in his fingers. “Same reason I did. She’s a piece of forbidden fruit with a great ass. Plus, she’s smart and funny. What’s not to like?”

Hoseok ignores Yoongi’s question, choosing to direct the conversation back to Yoongi. “I still don’t see how you thought it would be okay to date Namjoon’s sister. I would have beat you up if you had gone after my sister.”

“Namjoon just wants Kitty to be happy. If that means dating one of his friends, then so be it. His only rule was that I don’t hurt her. Kitty and I separated on good terms, and I would even venture to say we’re better friends now than we were before. She’s now just a friend I’ve had the pleasure of sleeping with.”

“Okay! Can we stop talking about her, please?” Hoseok puffs out his cheeks, refusing to take the bait Yoongi just offered up. His first instinct is to glare and bare his teeth like a rabid dog at the mention of Yoongi having slept with you. But he knows that’s precisely what Yoongi was going for.

Covering his chuckle with a bite of toast, Yoongi nods and makes a noncommittal sound of agreement. “How much more wedding planning do you have to do?”

Of course Yoongi would continue to talk about you without directly talking about you. “I’m not sure,” Hoseok says around a bite of bacon. “It’s probably seventy-five percent done now.”

“Maybe you’ll luck out and be able to finish it all before the week is out, and then you have a whole week to go back home or just hang out with your parents…or anyone who isn’t that someone we’re not talking about.” Yoongi gives Hoseok a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck off.” Hoseok rolls his eyes and goes on eating more, ignoring the occasional jab Yoongi throws his way.

After breakfast, he helps Yoongi clean the dishes. He swears he’s not stalling, but once the dishes are clean and put away, he’s instantly searching for another excuse to stick around or avoid reaching out to you.

“You’re welcome to stay and clean the rest of my apartment if you want something to do.” Mischief twinkles in Yoongi’s eyes as he begins to gather his work things. “I have a session scheduled at the studio. Otherwise, I’d offer to hang out and be your distraction…” he trails off, raising an eyebrow.

Hoseok sighs. “Nah, it’s best I get this over with so we can move forward with the planning. The last thing I need is to let Namjoon down because I can’t get over a petty squabble with his sister.”

“Petty squabble, right,” Yoongi teases. “Should we start planning your and Kitty’s wedding next? Pretty sure petty squabble is just a synonym for fighting like you’re married.”

“Goodbye, Yoongi,” Hoseok mutters as he pushes past him and out the front door. “Don’t choke in the studio…or do.”

The last comment is lost to the wind as Hoseok makes his way to where his car is parked. He’s glad he had the proper sense of mind to drive over to Yoongi’s before getting shitfaced. Sitting in his car, waiting for the AC to kick in, he thumbs through his phone. His finger hovers over the text thread with you for a moment, the notification indicator letting him know there are at least seven unread texts from you waiting for him. Clicking out of his messages, he ignores them and decides it’d be best to face you head-on instead of hiding behind his phone.

☀️☀️☀️

A soft knock at the door draws your attention away from your morning cup of tea. It’s grown cold, as you’ve been too lost in thought even to take the first sip. You contemplate ignoring the knock as it sounds a second time, but realizing it could be a delivery for Namjoon, you push up from the dining table and make your way to the door.

Glancing through the peephole in the door, you realize it’s not a delivery and revisit the idea of ignoring it. After last night, you’re filled with conflicting emotions about whether you want to face Hoseok. After having time to think, once he left, you realized that he was in the right for yelling at you. Over the two weeks, you’ve done nothing but push him and question everything he’s tried to do or suggested for Namjoon, despite telling yourself that you wouldn’t. Not because he doesn’t offer good ideas—quite the opposite, really—because you can’t help it. It’s like an ingrained part of your nature now to rail against him.

He knocks a third time, making you flinch back from where you’re pressed against the door. “Just a moment,” you call, finally deciding to open the door. You glance down at your thin t-shirt and cotton shorts. Crossing one arm over your chest, you use your other hand to open the door a crack.

“Hi,” Hoseok says, averting his eyes and mashing his lips together.

“Can I help you?” you ask, mildly irritated that that was all he said.

Espresso-colored eyes cut your way. He stares at you a moment before you can see him visibly deflate. “We have work to do.”

“Is that all?” It’s hard not to poke the beast when he’s standing less than a foot from you.

“I’m sorry about last night.” The words hang in the air between you, not bringing nearly as much triumph as you thought they might. If anything, they make you feel like even more of an asshole.

Without saying a word, you open the door wider, stepping to the side to allow him to enter. The tension in the air is suffocating, palpable in a bitter way. He’s still wearing the same clothes he was last night, wrinkled in a way that lets you know he probably slept in them. His chestnut-colored hair is disheveled but frames his forehead in a boyish way that reminds you of the Hoseok you first met when you were children.

It’s odd to think about your childhood and Hoseok. You didn’t hate him in the beginning. In fact, the idea of someone coming into your and Namjoon’s life that could add a little sunshine felt good. That was until you were marked as the annoying sister, and you apparently had cooties. Namjoon has been and will always be your brother, but something about your relationship with him changed because of that—because of Hoseok.

Shoving aside the dark memories of your past, you close the door behind him and shuffle back to the dining table. “There’s not much we can accomplish today since it’s Sunday and most places are closed, but we can at least get started on making the welcome favor bags.”

“Kitty,” Hoseok tries, his voice airy and soft. “Can we just talk for a minute?”

You turn to him, crossing both arms over your chest. Not in a disgruntled manner but more so in an act of self-preservation. Sometimes being close to Hoseok makes you feel like you’re falling apart at the seams. You haven’t always been completely honest with Namjoon about your feelings toward Hoseok. Yes, you hate him, and he drives you crazy. But, the thirteen-year-old girl who had a slight crush on her brother’s best friend never truly went away, and every time Namjoon has asked for more information, more insight into why you hate Hoseok so much…well, you’ve become increasingly good at deflecting that as well as the other.

“What’s there to talk about?” Your words come out clipped even though you don’t mean them to. A small part of you pleads for you to stop being such a bitch, because that’s not how you’re supposed to treat someone you lik—nope, you do hate him.

Hoseok gestures pointedly at you. “That! Let’s talk about that right there. Why are you so short with me all the time? Why do you hate me?” He throws his hands up, fisting his hair and pulling on the strands. “I don’t get it. What did I ever do to you?!”

You stand in the kitchen, staring at him, chewing your bottom lip as your breathing slowly begins to grow ragged. “What did you do to me?” you whisper. “Do you really want to know?”

His sudden laugh is humorless, more maddening than anything. “Yes, Kitty, I’d like to know what the hell I ever did to you that makes you hate me so much. It’s been like this since we were kids. I can’t for the life of me think of why you could possibly feel the way you do. Did I break one of your dolls, and I just don’t remember? Did I borrow your crayons and not give them back? Come on, Kitty, tell me! What did I—“

“You took him from me!” The words rip from your chest in a burst of pain and years of pent-up anger. The bewildered look on Hoseok’s face has you continuing. “You took Namjoon from me when I needed him the most. You took the one person I could count on. He chose you over me,” you whisper the last part, a bitter confession you’ve held onto since you were a child—since the summer you all were thirteen.

“What are you talking about?” It’s clear Hoseok doesn’t understand. His fingers slide out of his hair, and his arms hang loosely by his sides. You can see the whites of his eyes. They’re opened so wide in confusion.

Anger eats away at your sensibilities. You shake your head, not wanting to continue this conversation. “Forget it. I think it’s best if you leave. We can meet up tomorrow to work on the bags.” You turn away from him, grabbing your cold tea and taking it to the sink to pour it out. The amber-colored liquid disappears down the drain, taking your resolve with it. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your bottom lip trembling.

“Kitty.” You jerk against the counter, startled by how close Hoseok is to you. “Kitty,” he tries again. “Talk to me. Make me understand.” The urgency and genuine want in his voice are like a balm to the ache raging away in your chest.

“I don’t want to,” you say, setting the teacup in the sink before you drop it with how your hands are now trembling. “It’s not your problem. It’s mine. I’ll deal with it. I’m sorry…for everything.”

Hoseok places a hesitant hand on your shoulder, using gentle pressure to turn you to face him. Your ass presses into the lip of the counter around the sink as you lean as far away from him as you can. An inner part of you wants to look into his eyes, but the need to hide your tears is greater. Your eyes train on the scant few inches between your body and his.

“Kitty,” he coos your name, his voice full of barely restrained sorrow. Strong fingers slide along your chin, cupping your jaw, angling your face up. Your eyes flick up, locking onto his. They’re almost a reflection of your own, glossy and brimming. “Talk to me.” It’s a soft, urgent plea for understanding.

“Hoseok.” Your chin trembles, lips warbling around his name. “You took Namjoon from me,” you try to finish your line of thinking again, “I was left with no one to turn to, no one to lean on when I needed them. I was just his sister, a stupid girl who would never understand in the way that you could.”

“What do you mean?” he asks softly. His thumb brushes over the apple of your cheek, catching an errant tear.

“The day that everything changed…I overheard what you told him.” The confusion pinching his brow launches you into further explanation. “We were thirteen…”

_____________

The heat is oppressive, the sun beating down relentlessly. Perspiration sticks the thin cotton of your t-shirt to your back. The welts lashed across the backs of your thighs burn as the salty drops of your sweat bead and slide along your legs, leaving streaks in the grime coating you as you crouch in the toolshed behind the house.

Avoiding your father's wrath is easy as long as you’re quiet as a mouse and as obedient as a soldier. This morning, a slip of your tongue earned you a strap across your ass and thighs, your cries muffled behind your clamped lips. If it’s one thing that would earn additional punishment, it’s sniveling.

The air in the toolshed is musty, thick, and stifling. The heat and stink of rust are making your head pound. You listen quietly for the telltale sound of your father's truck engine cranking, knowing he needed to leave for an appointment in town once he finished whipping you. A few more moments pass before you hear it. The old engine growls in protest as he presses the gas, gunning down the driveway and onto the street toward town.

You bite back a curse as you stand from where you’re crouched in the corner, the stripes across your skin stretching and flaring with new heat. Now that your father is gone, it’s time to find why you earned the belt this morning—Namjoon. He missed breakfast, and when questioned on his whereabouts, your answer wasn’t sufficient for your father, earning you his wrath and a promise filled with venom for Namjoon.

Last you saw him, he was sneaking out the window of the bedroom you share. You tried to coax him back over the threshold, but he just swatted your hands and pressed a finger to his lips in a silent plea for you to be quiet. He slipped into the weak morning light, heading in a familiar direction you’re starting to hate.

It’s not lost on you that Namjoon has been spending an increasing amount of time with the new kid, Hoseok. He’s in your class, the same class you share with Namjoon. New to the small farming community, his parents moved into a place on the other side of the tiny sprawl of houses.

Hoseok is all legs and arms, lanky in an awkward yet endearingly boyish way. The last time you saw him, his mother cut his hair, which looked silly. The strands were too short, standing up around his ears, and even with it mashed down by a ratty old baseball cap, it still was unruly and made you giggle. You think you like Hoseok, even if he’s slowly turning your brother against you.

They won’t let you hang out with them much, Hoseok taunting that you have cooties. You’re certain Namjoon doesn’t believe that, but he still goes along with it because that’s apparently what teenage boys do. Maybe if you could show Hoseok you’re just as good as Namjoon, he’ll be your friend, too—maybe even your boyfriend. The thought has your cheeks heating and a small smile quirking your lips that you cover with a hand.

All thoughts of your feelings toward Namjoon’s new friend get pushed to the side as you walk further into the woods. You’re sure you know where Namjoon is. He and Hoseok like to hang out around the lake just outside the community before school. Now that it’s summer break, you imagine they’ll be there all day. And, if Namjoon’s not there, you’ll simply spend the rest of the day looking for him.

It takes you nearly an hour to pick your way through the woods surrounding the farms, trying to avoid being seen by anyone. The last thing you need is an adult to ask after the bloody welts on your thighs. From experience, you know it’ll be at least another few days before you can comfortably venture outside in shorts in front of people. With the sweltering heat, it would be odd for you to wear pants out. So, as it is, you’d only leave the house in your current state if absolutely necessary. It’s easy to get away with it when school is in session, the uniform having a long skirt requirement.

Things weren’t always so severe in your home, not for you and Namjoon, at least. Your father didn’t start taking a belt to you and Namjoon until you were ten, once your mother left and the buffer was removed. The scattering of bruises constantly covering your mother was like a second skin for her—until she had enough.

The details are still a bit fuzzy about why she didn’t take you and Namjoon with her. She occasionally comes by when she knows your father isn’t around to give you and Namjoon small handfuls of money. That’s all, just a meager sum of money, and then she’s off, a cloud of dust kicking up behind her old car as she gets as far away from the small farmhouse as possible.

As you approach, a haze of heat hangs in the air around the small lake. The faint muffled sounds of voices carry over the still water. You catch glimpses of white t-shirts and khaki pants tucked between two fallen trees. Moving slowly, you creep closer.

“…I can’t do that, man.” Namjoon’s voice hits your ears clearly first. “It would mean hell to pay.”

“Would it be as bad as how you feel right now? What’s temporary pain compared to life-long?” Hoseok’s voice is slightly higher pitched than Namjoon’s but no less recognizable.

There is some shifting, the sound of crunching leaves as someone moves. “I don’t know. The fallout might not just impact me.”

Hoseok scoffs. “Kitty?” —You still, breath held, at the mention of your nickname— “What’s she got to do with this? She doesn’t understand as I do. She’s just a stupid girl.”

Those words, spoken so callously by the cute boy you thought to befriend, feel like a fiery slap to the face. But, that’s second to how you ache as you wait for Namjoon to jump to your defense, to tell Hoseok that you’re not stupid or just a girl…that you’re his sister—there’s a difference.

But he doesn’t…

The pain from your whipping pales compared to the pain now cleaving through your heart with Namjoon’s words.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right…”

_____________

“…he chose you over me. Unlike me, you were the one he turned to for everything because you could understand him. I was second-best from that day on. I was no longer the person he could rely on most.”

Recalling that memory has a sheen of sweat coating your brow, your heart hammering away in your chest. You can almost feel the sun's heat on your back and taste the salt of your tears as you made your way home that day.

“Oh, Kitty,” Hoseok murmurs. “That’s not—that day, it’s not…” he trails off, adjusting his grip on your chin. A tear breaks free, trailing down his cheek. You watch it trace a path until it gets caught in the corner of his mouth. The tip of his tongue peeks out, swiping away the droplet. “That day…it’s not what you think. You should have confronted us,” his voice grows ragged, tinged with emotion. “I remember that day just as clearly as you seem to, except I know what we were really talking about!”

Hoseok drops his hand from your face, turning and burying both of his hands into his hair again. “It doesn’t matter what you were talking about. Everything changed that day because of what you said.” Your lip curls into a silent sneer, anger slipping between the cracks in your armor. He wanted the truth, and now he’s trying to make it seem like it’s not what it clearly was that day.

He turns back to you, his hands falling to his sides, leaving his hair a wild mess. “That was the day Namjoon told me he was gay, Kitty. We were talking about whether or not he should come out. He was worried about the fallout with your father and what that would mean for you. I was just telling him it wasn’t about you, that it was his decision, and you shouldn’t have a direct influence on it. He didn’t want you to get caught up in the crosshairs with your father. He wanted to talk to you about it first. I said you wouldn’t understand because you’re not a guy. Specifically, you’re not a gay guy. You wouldn’t have known what being out like that in the community would be like. That’s all I was saying to him. If you had stuck around for a little bit longer, you would have heard him tell me that although he agreed your perspective as a girl might not be much, I was wrong to assume you wouldn’t be able to help him because if anyone could, it would be you!”

You grind your teeth together. “Don’t try to spin this on me!”

“I’m not trying to do that, Kitty, but you need to understand that what you heard that day—what you think you heard that day—may just be your own interpretation of a conversation you shouldn’t have overheard anyway.”

“A conversation I shouldn’t have heard?” you parrot. The words are biting and sharp. “How about Namjoon shouldn’t have snuck out of the house that morning, and maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t have had to come to find him and happen upon a conversation I shouldn’t have heard!”

Hoseok deflates before you, shoulders slumping and face falling. His chest violently rises and falls with his labored breaths. “You need to have a serious conversation with your brother. This goes beyond just the two of us.” He steps away, angling himself toward the door. “I-I’ll call you tomorrow or something…I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Hoseok.” You try to cling to one coherent thought, but everything is crumbling. Is it possible you spent the last fifteen years projecting your insecurities and assumptions onto Hoseok without trying to confirm your beliefs? Licking your suddenly dry lips, you call after him again, “Hoseok, wait.”

He pauses with his hand resting on the doorknob. His eyes are already red-tinged, tears free falling down his cheeks. “Let’s not continue this, not right now, Kitty. I think we both need some time to process and think things through. Seriously, call Namjoon…talk to him. And when you’re ready, we can talk again.” The door swings open, and the bright light from outside wreaths him in a glow, making him look like a ray of fucking sunshine. “Oh, and Kitty? While we’re confessing things we’ve been suppressing for the last fifteen years, you should know I’ve always liked you. Despite the—or perhaps because of the way you treat me. I thought, in a twisted way, that if you cared about me enough to hate me, maybe one day I could change your mind, and you’d…well, you get the idea. I may have called you a stupid girl that day, but maybe I’m actually the stupid one.”

The door clicks shut behind him, sealing you in with his last words…his own confession. It settles like a weight on your chest, right beside the knowledge that maybe instead of an enemy, you could have found a friend—or something more—in Hoseok all these years. Is it too late…is there now too much hate in your heart?

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[callsignbaphomet]

Okay so watching a lot of lore videos made me think back on this post (don't get excited it's just OC stuff).

Eventually both of them will change their minds about having kids but not necessarily in a traditional way. Like, honestly with how they are it would probably be somewhat spontaneous but not really. They have talked about this subject before, numerous times actually. It's either started by one or the other and each time they lean a little more towards yes though they both always end it with "not yet". Both of them are mature and responsible, especially Jelani, economically both of them are stupid levels of incredibly comfortable. Angelus will eventually become the Trickster team leader for the 00 branch and Jelani will eventually be the actual leader of the entire PMC. Currently he's the acting leader. Real world equivalent to a LtGen that's been left in charge for the most part.

They do have some real concerns they've talked about with each other. Angelus is scared to death because his childhood was bad, like really freaking bad. He's not abusive in any way, on the contrary, he lived through a literal hell and he wouldn't ever want to put someone else through that. It's an irrational fear of his. On top of that he worries about his own mental illnesses and if he might pass them down. Just because he's got all of that under control, puts in the work and takes care of himself doesn't mean it all magically vanished and he's cured. Hell, sometimes there are setbacks and he needs to step back to take care of it and sometimes he needs help. Third thing that worries him is the fact that he's a Crossed Breed, that has stigmas of its own. I've mentioned before that there are werewolves out there that automatically want his head on a pike just because he's a Crossed Breed and he's had to deal with violence before because of that. He's deathly afraid of what the kid might turn out to be.

Angelus isn't the only one with concerns. Jelani has his fair share of issues that he'd rather not burden a child with. On top of that he is the literal Arch-Maker, that's an entire mess of its own. Even if he "exiled" himself it's only a ceremonial act, it really was just to give himself some peace of mind. If Angelus is worried about what the kid would turn out to be Jelani is ten times more worried. Werewolf genetics might be aggressive but that's nothing compared to the genetics of a divine being.

There's also the obstacle of actually getting pregnant itself. Angelus was born intersex so on top of having the Ovotesticular DSD (Ovotestes) variation he was born with only half a uterus which requires a little more help in that department because of having only half of a uterus.

Which lets me circle back nicely to what I said before 'cause honestly the way I wrote it made him sound like a jerk I think. That particular incident happened the second time he and Jelani fucked, they weren't together yet and both didn't tell each other how they felt for a million, albeit dumb af, reasons. So a few weeks later he had the miscarriage. He didn't tell anyone because he didn't want anyone to know. And no, he didn't go by periods because he is very irregular, like, he can go months or even years without seeing a period and suddenly it just drops like an RKO outta nowhere. Eventually he does tell Jelani but years later. He obviously got worried about him and he was glad he was okay. He did feel strange about finding that out but if Angelus had decided to keep it if he hadn't miscarried he would've had his back 100,000% no matter what he would've decided on. Sanaa and Ingvarr raised their babies right, thank you very much. So! If they decide to go through with it this time they'd have to be careful and get everything checked out.

Honestly, yeah, I do like the idea of them having twins but like I said before it would be much later in the timeline. And honestly, I like the idea of it just happening without them planning it out. Just one day Angelus notices something's off, both talk it out, get a test done, Jela tells him it's his decision and his alone and that no matter what he'll be right beside him through it all, Angelus sits on it for a bit, decides to keep it, both do everything they can to make sure Angelus and the kid are safe, keep the new development to themselves, find out it's not one but two, both have an "oh shit" moment, then when they can't hide it anymore they tell others, Ingvarr does what he does best: cries because his youngest baby will have babies and because he's a big softy and then twins arrive.

So what do you get when you cross a powerful werewolf with an Arch-Maker? Yeah, I'm still working out the kinks but they're DEFINITELY of divine origin, that shoulda been more than obvious. I actually have an idea for their non-human form designs, taking both of Jela's and Angelus' forms and kinda fusing some bits. Sounds weird but it makes sense in my head!

I don't think I'm bringing this concept into any of the AUs tbh but then again I'm fickle af and y'all know me. If I like an idea I grab it and run to the hills with it at top speed.

[multishipper-baby]

Anyway I'm bored and decided to make some SDRA2 fankids, but couldn't decide on what pairings to make, so I spun a wheel with all the characters for some inspo and possible combos:

Teruya x Nikei: #1 Mikado hater. Sorry both your parents died super unfairly, little one. Hopefully you don't end up consumed by revenge or some other thing that will also lead to your own unfair death.

Sora x Yuki: Oh wholesome canon ship, nice. Time to roll out the AU where everything is good and they can have their little happy family.

Emma x Shinji: I don't think these two even interacted but they'd be pretty good parents I think? So their kid can't end up too bad. Just keep them away from the snow and ice.

Hajime x Sora: I feel like this child would be genuinely very terrifying but also a huge loser. Not sure why but the Vibes are there.

Yuri x Hajime: AU where everyone truly does survive after the simulation ends and somehow Hajime killing Yuri ends up as a funny meet cute story they tell their kid many times during their childhood. Between this and Yuri's dream of dying for women, this kid definitely does consider murder to be romantic. Rip to them.

Hajime x Nikei: Hell fucking yeah I got my OTP. Not sure how they'd be with kids though... Hopefully it works out? They got practice taking care of Iroha so it can't be too bad- unless they inherit their parents' bad luck. Then it's really, really bad.

(Then I got Hajime for the fourth roll in a row, so I promptly kicked him out of the wheel so he'd stop having so many damn kids).

Setsuka x Yuri: Their kid is definitely fun at parties. And very annoying literally anywhere else. But hey, they have Setsuka as a mom- what more could you possibly want?

Sora x Hibiki: Honestly no ideas for this one. Head empty.

Setsuka x Yuri: What are the odds I got the same combo twice. Guess their first kid gets a sibling/twin? Good for them.

Kanade x Nikei: This kid is so fucked. Like literally straight up fucked. Not as much as my Kanade/Syobai fankid (that I made without the wheels interference, just for fun) since Nikei has like, morals, but still. There's no way they turn out even remotely alright. The therapy bills will be astronomical.

BONUS: I wanted at least one Mikado baby and the wheel didn't give me a single one, so I just spun for one character as the partner and got Shinji. A cross between the worst boy and the most wholesome boy... That's ought to be interesting.

So uh I might try to think about some of these later while doing homework (or procrastinating on doing my homework). If I get any good ideas I might even draw one of them...

Also only one WLW ship (which isn't even one of the ones I like) and no Yoruko representation. Big L.

[blue-eyed-bloodstains]

100 questions

How long have you been online today?

off and on the last few hours in between dozing

First name?

Morgan

Middle name?

not saying

Age?

turn 31 next month

Male or Female?

female

What part of the world are you from?

Pennsylvania

How tall are you?

6′0″

How’s your hair?

few inches past the shoulder and brown

What’s your favorite color?

black, cerulean blue

What color(s) are you wearing right now?

black, blue (jeans)

What’s your shoe size?

11.5 wide in women’s shoes, which means about 10/10.5 in men’s

Who owns the computer you are on?

me

What is the first thing you see when you look in the mirror?

everything I hate

What was the last dream you remember about?

all I remember was it was very vivid and fucked up nightmare

Do you have any birthmarks?

no

Do you have any tattoos?

yeah a Harry Potter one on the inside of my right wrist

Do you have any peircings?

yeah, the standard one in each ear and belly button ring

How many siblings do you have?

a stepsister by marriage and a biological half brother I’ve never met

What’s your favorite type of music?

just about most of it, I’m not real picky

What’s the worst song ever?

oh lord...Baby Shark and WAP are a good tie for me

What’s your favorite movie?

this is never possible to answer cause there’s way too many

How long ago did you watch it for the first time?

-----

What’s the worst movie ever?

can’t think of one right now but I know there’s many lol

When was the last time you went to the theatres?

last year to see Jurassic World: Dominion...way overdue for theater popcorn!

What’s your favorite show?

too many to list, same as songs and movies

What’s the worst show on television?

ugh all the reality shows like 90 Day Fiance, The Bachelor, that new one with multiple husbands or married to twins...like seriously??!

What’s in your pocket right now?

bobby pins, my carabiner (big clip with multiple keys/keychains on it altogether) 

What is your first childhood memory?

sneaking out of bed in the morning to go watch tv at Mimi’s (grandma who passed in 97) when she’d be babysitting me and getting caught lol

Are your parents still together?

nope, dad/stepmom and mom’s been single since

Are you adopted?

no

Are you strait, gay/lesbian, bi, or unsure?

straight

Are you in a relationship?

engaged

For how long?

been together since Feb 13/14 of 2016 so 7 years, engaged since Christmas day of 2020

Ever been in love?

yeah more than once

Are you in love now?

yes whole heartedly

Do you have kids?

not yet

Do you want kids?

eventually

Do you drink? How often?

recovering alcoholic so...

Do you smoke? How often?

yeah, half a pack to a pack of menthol cigs a day

Do you do drugs? What? How often?

no

Look left: What do you see?

coffee table, tv, fan

Look right: What do you see?

bathroom, kitchen

Are you right or left handed?

lefty and proud of it

Can you say the alphabet backwards?

hell no lol

How long are your fingernails?

short

Is your bedroom a mess?

ha mess is an understatement

What’s under your bed?

nothing it’s a day bed that pulls out and has drawers in the bottom so it’s on the floor no space in between

Do you keep a journal or diary?

no I used to, and used to blog on here a lot but it just turned into shares of interests and surveys lol

Do you have a house phone, cell phone, or both?

both but the landline is only for emergencies, we never use it. cell phones are our lifeline

Can you keep a secret?

yeah

What color are your curtains?

we have blinds and they’re beige

Do you remember faces or names more easily?

honestly I suck at both, it’s hard to really say if one’s slightly easier than the other

What did you eat for supper last night?

pizza and loaded potato

Who made it?

a restaurant here called Cousin’s

What is your favorite school subject?

was* and English Lit was always one of my top faves that I always aced, really loved Social Studies too

Are you in school? What grade?

nope I’m old lol I graduated 2010

How long have you been out?/When do you graduate?

13 years, graduated 2010

Can you do a handstand?

used to when I was a kid and in gymnastics but not anymore

What’s your favorite game to play?

I’m a gamer! some of my main faves are Pokemon, Zelda, Tony Hawk, Kingdom Hearts, Harry Potter, Spyro, Super Mario...also Candy Crush and Pokemon GO

I also love board games, and I’m a crosswords addict!

What’s your favorite sport?

to play, basketball and golf. to watch, football and baseball

Would you rather watch sports on TV or go to the game?

oh lord I’d love to go to a game again I’ve only ever been to one Yankee game! but yeah preferably watch at home

Ever broken a bone?

I made it 21 years without any, unfortunately late 2013 I finally did it...broke my right collarbone :|

Ever had surgery?

many for skin tumor removals and jaw cyst removals due to my rare form of cancer I was born with 

Ever embarrassed yourself in public?

psshh a lot yeah

What happened?

a variety of different things, nothing real crazy just usual small stuff most everybody’s had happen one or twice in their lives lol

Ever had a long distance relationship?

had to due to deployment with my ex, he was active Air Force at the time and it was hell...never again.

Ever had an online relationship?

not exclusively online, however I have dabbled in dating sites, the last of which is how I met my fiance so it finally after several horror stories worked out in the end :D

Would you ever do it/do it again?

hopefully not

What do you hear right now?

TV in the background

What are you afraid of?

the dark, complete silence, being abandoned, losing everyone I love especially due to death, spiders, heights above a certain point, failure...

Do you like scary movies?

fuckin LOVE THEM!

Ever gotten a prank phone call?

no

Are you thirsty?

not really

What was the last thing you had to drink?

drinking Pepsi right now

How well can you hoola hoop?

enough to pass lol

Who is the most annoying person you know?

mom

What is your dream job right now?

I’m currently in a place mentally where I’m interested in being a criminal investigator or reporter

What was your dream job in kindergarten?

to be a vet

Do you have a job now? What?

haven’t worked in 5 years due to medical condtions that lost me 3 jobs in just under a year the last I was working...once I have a car again which should be pretty soon, I’m gonna apply for DoorDash this way I’m working again but it’s as little physicality as possible to make it easier 

What would you do with $1,000,000?

pay off debt, save up for us to move, finally plan our wedding and have it

Do you have any pets?

yeah a cat named Danyell (inside joke on the spelling) 

Do you have any hidden talents?

I personally don’t think so but who knows?

Are you double jointed?

my thumbs are

Can you dance?

hell no I’m a white girl all the way with no rhythm lol

What color are your eyes?

blue

Do you need glasses/contacts?

glasses, I’m severely nearsighted I need em all the time

When is your birthday?

May 1992

What would be the best present?

given my current situation over this past year, a car

What is the worst present you ever received?

a screaming match of family drama and domestic violence.

What is your pet peeve?

got several lol being interrupted, competition with experiences like someone always has to one up you and make it like their life is way worse than yours for attention kind of thing, triggers, slow drivers, being ignored, judgmental assholes, entitled people...etc.

What did you do last Saturday?

waited for my fiance to finally get home from a job in New Zealand to be home for a little over a week before he has to go back next week

Did you shower today?

nope

If you were one of Snow White’s seven dwarfs, which one would you be?

Dopey or Sleepy, for sure

What will you do after you finish this survey?

probably another one lol I’m bored

How much sleep did you get last night?

an hour or so here and there...basically shit sleep

What kind of chair are you sitting in?

I’m stretched out on the couch

Ever been to jail? For what?

no thank god

When you go swimming do you like oceans, lakes, or pools?

ocean’s fine, long as I don’t go out too far but it’s usually pools

What is the temperature outside?

49 degrees F

What do you want the temperature to be?

around low 70s F

Congratulations and here’s the last question:

okay

What did you think of it, be honest:

it was alright

[ancha-aus]

Jumpscare!! >:D

And I am happy to keep talking :D

Nightmare who are this point just doens't care what others think anymore. He is secure and confident. People try to be rude about him being an heir? Nightmare hums and just smiling "No." what are they going to do? Go against their KING?! Yeah. that is what he thoguht to.

Nightmare saw what the kingdom was build upon. And decided it wasn't worth it. If the kingdom falls because he didn't continue the trend than the kingdom never deserved to exist. But now it is all going well!

Blue and Dream are in love and happy and you are so right! wiht them being put in charge of kids and their well beign? lets just say that dream VERY QUICKLY gets over the slight uncertainty with kids. Kids are honest and dream adores and lvoes them to bits! Blue does too!

It is honestly a matter of time before they are watching some kids run off and Dream just sighs "I want my own."

Blue nods "Same."

And they both jsut pause... and looka t each other... because they both know the other is VERY serious about this matter.

But the doubt! Dream is so excited but then rememebred all those old teachings nad habits and the fact that twins are a very big dela in his family. he is so afraid of losing Blue. Blue who means EVERYTHING to him. and lmao. Anxious parent Dream and Chill parent Blue. They will figure it out <3 And tigerlily (right?) will be a happy girl with loving parents. <3

Killer is terrified of accidentally ruining this kids childhood. his own was fucked up in many many many ways. But Killer makes do by just. reading SO MANY parent books. Ccino probably finds him in the library pretty often once they started to consider kids. Kiler just reading any childcare book he can get his hands on. Ccino helps him calm down that there is one thing he needs to keep in mind. That it is about the child being happy, healthy and feeling listened to. And Killer can do that. That is only like three things! He can Totally handle that! (he keeps stealing parent books to read. Probably wiht a cat or two nearby as he mutters nad asks them questions.) and poor Ccino is just so afraid. and Killer will have to hold him and hug him and make him feel safe about this situation. (becaus elets be real.Ccino hadn't felt truly safe for a long time. and even if he feels safe now there are still worries and fears plaguing him.) ((honestly how Ccino made it through everything as a well adjusted adult is a mystery.))

Very domestic Rottencorp <3 OR! hear me out! Crop moves closer to the castle! Instead of the large farm, which he left his brother and his borther's kids in charge off, he went to the castle to take care of the much smaller and easier to manage castle gardens. Horror, who is still a knight as you said as he is a knight for live, who isn't going on missions anymore stays with him in a small cute cottage on the castle grounds <3

This is when they both decide they are ready for their own child. and everyone is excited, including the many nephews and nieces!

Cross wouldn't have agreed to carry if he knew everyone was going to be so careful wiht him :/ He can totally handle stuff! Lust! This is unfair!!

Lust has no pitty for him. Lust wanted to carry that little soulling so Cross better be happy AND do as told to keep their little treasure safe and sound! and to make sure hehimself is fine and doesn't wear himself too thin!

hoenstly once Lust hears that cross was training Lust is going to drag him home and make him talk about what he was thinking. Lust learns a LOT about cross's old home and how unhealthy stuff was there. Lust gets more gentle and gently describes why you need to be careful and take it easy as any stress you put on yourself is also put on the little soulling.

Cross i sHORRIFIED. You mean he was hurting their baby?! Cross feels terrible. he is a terrible parent TT_TT (he is fine. he is just a bit misguided but lust is there to help and so are his knight brothers.) ((side side note. I hope that at least one day cross can have a reunion with Nine. Let him catch up wiht his biological brother.))

Omg yes. Reaper LOVES dad jokes! (dust loves hearing them. Geno only acts annoyed about them) and he has no shame. He is so proud to have this soulling wiht his two beautiful and talented husbands! omg and of course LIFE manages to get him to be a bit bashful. Becuase reaper suddenly rememebrs his edgy stage. and he made some VERY bold claims. In his defence. He was young nad a LOT of time has passed in the meantime.

and it is okay. you can have them on the brain 24/7 hihihi

Hey i am back with a thought.

I know we already mentioned like. The future future plans concerning kids in the New Age storyline.

I was thinking. Who would carry/get the kid in the couples? (Yes this implies mpreg. If this aint your thing no worries you can just ignore everything else :3 )

As you mentioned before. Nightmare and error would most likely adopt.

Between dream and blue i think blue would end up carrying the kid. Dream would feel too locked up and locked down if he had to take it easy. Also. Let this man pamper Blue. He deserves that.

Ccino and Killer. Ccino wouldnt want kids for a LONG time and even just the idea would be slow going. But killer has his soul situation (is that also a situation in this story?) And he is a knight being out and about. Ccino is safely at home and would be the safer option. But they would need a long time before ccino would feel comfortable with the idea.

Horror and Crop. Crop. Hands down. Horror with his work and Crop has help on the farm. But i doubt thwy would get a kid because they have along distance relationship.

Cross and Lust it depends on who wants it more. I can see both being the one who does it mostly because i can see pros and cons for both sides.

Reaper, Geno and Dust. Only one option. Reaper. Dust doesnt have a healthy enough soul and that with his spell around it? No way he can carry a kid. Geno meanwhile only has a soulshard so he isnt healthy enough to carry a kid either. Leaving only Reaper as an option.

Okay that was it. :D

Haha! Omg I keep forgetting this is smth I can think about! Usually it's not my scene so it might not cone up much in-stiry but it IS how I picture the cast having kids in this one, so!!! We're diving in!!

Like u said, those boys are adopting hehe-

With Dream and Blue it's a bit hard, because I think that Dream would be really really worried about Blue the entire time. Like, terrified his magic would accidentally trigger the whole Twin thing. But, ultimately, yeah, probably Blue! Dream *would* get too restless, and Blue rlly does deserve to be pampered hehe- (I just think Blue would have to really really talk Dream into it. Dream does NOT want to be like his mother anymore.)

Killer and Ccino... let's go with a yes on Killer's soul situation, so Ccino would be their only option. But, like you said, it would be ages before they even thought about discussing the idea, let alone actually having a kid.

Ohhh yeah. I see Horror and Crop as the ones least likely to have kids (as u said, long Distance relationship, but also they just have to much on their plates? They're practical guys and focus on their work and existing families first. Plus, someone has to be the cool uncles to their nieces and nephews!) But definitely Crop. Especially because Horror is pretty low on natural magic as-is and even though his soul is healthy, his body might not even be able to form a firm ecto, let alone anything safe to harbor a forming soul. (Unlike Ccino, Horror was born that way, and the injury didn't help lmao-)

Cross and Lust? I think they'd both regularly get baby fever, but neither of then would be ready to settle down for a *while* in that way, so I think they'd push off the question until years later. Then when it comes up, they 'fight' over it. Insisting that they should carry- I think they'd end up choosing Cross though! As much as Lust seems like the more convenient option, as he's not a knight, Cross is just built different and insists that if anything goes wrong he wants to be the one it happens to. Which, ofc, leads to him doing training whilst in the early stages until someone (probably Killer or Dust) notices he's a little off and then Cross admits he's got a soulling. He did not expect to immediately get horrified looks (because they were fighting someone with a lil guy inside them, not because he has a lil guy) or to immediately get ushered out of training and to his room because??? Idiot??? What were you thinking??? Cross is the worst at staying off his duties, but his brother's have him covered, thank god-

And yep, put perfectly! Reaper is so genuinely the only option! It leads to some odd interactions, since Reaper can't exactly stop being King, but he manages shockingly well and has Geno there to help him (and probably later on Dust, since Night isn't about to leave Dust out of that due to work-) And. I like to think these three in particular have multiple kids perhaps, Kane and then another, and it's kinda a running joke that Reaper's the one hauling them around lmao- (Also very convenient! Because Reaper is the one with death magic in his soul, the kids are effectively immune to it! They were made from that stuff basically, so ofc they're fine!)

[pedgito]

𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: growing up together was hard enough, it didn’t help that you were hopelessly trapped by both of them, wondering which one would win you over in the end—because honestly, why couldn’t you have both?

cw: 18+ (minors dni), munson twins, eddie’s brother is nameless (up to your own interpretation), virgin!eddie, his brother is a whore (and proud about it), unrequited crushes/pining, degradation toward reader (slight, just a couple insults), protected/unprotected sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, this smut is literally polar opposite and purely self indulgence, a little manhandling on his brother’s part, eddie’s a natural blonde don’t attack me it’s my own person headcanon. if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 8.3k

Eddie had been a large part of your life, through childhood and then on, your friendship only strengthening into high school and when Eddie got held back, it made things easier somehow, despite how much it affected things for Eddie in the long run, he still tried to make the most of it—even if his twin brother made his life a living hell on a daily basis.

His brother wasn’t too bright either, as much as he tried. Eddie has trouble focusing and understanding, processing things slower than normal students—he had the capability, but Eddie needed the extra love and attention that no one wanted to show him. His brother on the other hand, it had to be lack of caring—if it weren’t for Eddie being so adamant about graduating he would’ve dropped out and settled for a GED and put all the stupid high school shit to rest. But the truth is, they did everything together—if Eddie wanted to tough it out, so was he.

There was a brief interim in your childhood when Eddie and his brother had come to live with you when their mother died and their dad disappeared soon after, but eventually they settled into the trailer with Wayne, their uncle, who was one of the sweetest men you’d had the opportunity to know.

It was a mystery how he put up with the Munson twins, because even you couldn’t handle it some days.

“You could just kick him out,” You suggest to Eddie, chair shoved as close as possible beside his, knees touching as you rested your feet on the edge of table, “I don’t think any of us would miss him.”

“And listen to him bitch for the rest of the year?” Eddie asks redundantly, “No fucking thank you.”

“He doesn’t even like Dungeons and Dragons.” You point out, not that Eddie wasn’t already aware, “It’s painful having to watch him play—like, claw your eyes out painful.”

“He says it helps with the ladies,” Eddie complains with a full eye roll, tossing the pencil he’d been twirling between his fingers on the table, “—like we’re a fetish or some shit.”

You laugh to yourself. It wasn’t that far-fetched, but his counterpart was a lot more liked than him. Eddie had his small group of friends within Hellfire Club and you, it was all he really needed. You couldn’t say the same for the carbon copy sitting across from you, his face scrunching up in the same way Eddie’s does when he’s concentrating—if it weren’t for his short cropped hair they’d be impossible to tell apart look-wise. Their personalities however couldn’t be more different.

“I think it’s him that’s fetishizing us.” You tell Eddie, catching his brother’s heated gaze across the room, a disgusting smirk gracing his face. “Not who he’s hooking up with.”

“I’m not talking to him,” Eddie shakes his head adamantly, “I live with the dumbass, that’s already painful enough.”

“You’re such a baby,” You tease Eddie, punching gently at his thigh, “—What, do you want me to talk to him?”

Eddie shrugs, but his answer is clear in his face, unable to meet your stare.

“Eddie, he hates me.” You remind him, eyes squinting in annoyance as you look up toward his brother, gaze still as intense as ever and you’re not sure he’s looked away at all in the past few minutes, like he can hear the conversation you’re having, smug look on his face as he raises his hand to flip you off playfully. You force a tight smile, returning the gesture.

“Scratch that—I think it’s just me that really hates him.”

“Understandable.” Eddie chirps quietly, but it doesn’t change his unspoken plea.

“Fuck, fine.” You sigh when Eddie’s pout refuses to fade, shoving your bag at him. “Wait for me in the van, crybaby.”

Eddie grins slightly, hugging the bag tight. He knew which angles of you to work, read you like a book, and you fell for it every goddamn time.

Eddie’s brother senses your approach before you can even make yourself known, turning on you in his chair with the same annoying grin he had earlier.

“Whatever you’re gonna say, I don’t care.” You tell him firstly, holding your hand out to stop him, “Eddie wants you out.”

He ruffles a hand through his curls cooly, his hair fighting against the mountain of product he had in it—most of it was for show, shaping his hair away from his face to show off his features. He knew he was attractive, you knew it—it wasn’t lost on anyone. But, you’ve seen him outside of school on his worst days, just as less put together as Eddie was on most days. The difference was that Eddie wasn’t worried about everyone’s perception—his brother stressed over it everyday, even if he didn’t show it.

“Eddie,” He says slowly, like he’s testing the word out, “my own brother?”

“Well Eddie, and me, and every other person here.” You tell him admittedly, watching his grin grow wider. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He chuckles slightly, rolling the unsmoked joint in his fingers, your eyes widening at the sight of it. “I’m listening to you talk—isn’t that what you want?”

“You’re fucking insane,” You scold, snatching the joint from his hand, holding it up, “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

“It’s my weed, sweetheart.”

“In our club room, that we manage as a group—the last thing we need is you getting caught with drugs on campus.”

He snatches the joint back with ease, stuffing it into his jacks pocket. Your arms cross over your chest defiantly, frustration growing.

“Look—wear the fucking shirt or don’t, but stop showing up to meetings and campaigns, for the love of god—“

“What?” He asks teasingly, “Am I really that difficult to be around?”

“Yes.” You answer quickly, causing his face to fall slightly.

“Whatever.” He shrugs off, leaning forward to stand, towering above you slightly. “Figures my brother’s too much of a pussy to just tell me, he’s gotta send his little bitch to do his bidding—“

You make a loud ‘pfft’ in response, quickly reaching forward to snatch the joint from his pocket, holding it on display between your fingers.

“Good, because this little bitch is taking this as payment for thinking you can get away with calling me anything other than my name.”

He’s speechless for once, not even attempting to pull the joint away. You smile kindly, shoving the joint into your own pocket and turning on your heels.

“See you tonight,” You sing patronizingly over your shoulder, knowing he’d pop up at the trailer at some point, “maybe Eddie and I will save you some if there’s any left.”

You’re gone before he can respond, approaching Eddie in the parking lot a few short minutes later, passing the joint into his hands.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asks out of confusion, “Where did you get this?”

“Seems like he went digging into your stash,” You smile in amusement, “since Rick won’t sell to him.”

“Yeah, because he’d kill the product before he even had a chance to sell it, not that he has any capability for that.”

“Oh, burn.” You comment, holding Eddie’s hand up in front of his face, joint still tight between his thumb and forefinger. “As a celebration for successfully booting your brother out of Hellfire, we can smoke it in his honor.”

“Since when do you smoke?” Eddie asks with a soft laugh, pulling his hand away from your grip, eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at you.

“It’s a special occasion,” You shrug, “besides, your brother really stresses me out.”

Eddie snorts at your obvious qualms, hands extending fancifully toward his trusty van, the only constant in his life besides you and and his brother.

“Well, it’s not going to smoke itself, so…” Eddie adds, watching as you quickly skittered around the passenger side, hoping in with a grin that spread across your entire face.

“I do think I hurt his feelings though,” You tell Eddie, the image flashing in your head again, “you two have a really pitiful sad face—“

Eddie frowns at that, mostly as a joke, but you jab your finger in his direction to prove a point.

“You look like sad little puppies, it’s infuriating.” You complain, shoving his face away gently as he started the ignition.

“Add it to the list, sweetheart,”

“Where is he anyways?” You ask curiously, joint held between your lips as you inhaled, tip burning a bright, amber red before you’re passing it back to Eddie carefully.

“Well, it’s Friday so—probably a date.” Eddie shrugs, taking a couple slow drags himself, laid flat on his back as he stares up at the ceiling. You glance over at the other empty bed shoved in the corner of the room. “Or in some girl's bed.”

You weren’t sure how they made it work, both of them living in such a small space—but if they could share a womb together, they could make anything work. Plus, they weren’t exactly swimming in cash. Wayne was still working overtime at the plant and Eddie was stowing away what he could from his drug sales—as for his brother, it was a mystery.

“You know, I’d take it as a compliment.” You can see the hard line of worry on his face, lost in his own thoughts. “He tries to act so much like you.”

“Yeah, but he parades it around like it’s a character.” Eddie replies, passing the joint over. You slip it between your lips, falling to your stomach beside him until your faces are nearly parallel to each other. “And it doesn’t help that half the school thinks I’m a fuckin’ freak while everyone is eating that shit up when he does it.”

You pull the joint from your own lips and slip it between his wordlessly, his eyes falling shut as he grabs for it, fingers grazing your own. His touch was nothing but comfort anymore—it didn’t surprise Wayne the first time he caught you two cuddled on the couch with your hands wrapped around each other, having fallen asleep halfway through a movie.

Besides, Eddie knows nothing will ever come of it.

“I see right through it.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you know him. You know us. He can’t pull that shit here, that’s why he acts the way he does at school.”

“He’s an attention whore.” You say, only half-joking.

Eddie laughs to himself, finishing off the last of the joint before stubbing it out, “Since the day he was born.”

You tilt your head slightly in question, wondering where he was taking the conversation.

“Born first, walked first, it never fails. Do you remember when I first came to live with you back in elementary?”

You make a skeptical face, nose scrunching up in amusement.

“Yeah, of course.”

“You kept confusing us, back before I grew my hair out long. I stopped trying to correct you after a while, but for a week when you thought you were talking to me, it was actually just him.”

Your mouth drops open in shock, disgust crossing your face.

“And you kept that to yourself for this long?” You ask.

“It’s just proof of how easily he can portray himself as me and get away with it. I’m always last to everything—and girls run the other direction when they see me.”

You’ve seen it firsthand, the grimace and turn to sneak away somewhere else, the blatant way people ignore Eddie even when he’s just trying to be friendly—despite it all, he still keeps a smile on his face, no matter how much it bothers him.

“I don’t,” You say pointedly, grabbing at the hand resting against his stomach to twist the jewelry adorning each finger, pressing the palm against your cheek to offer a warm smile, “I’m always here.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Eddie says, pulling his hand away gently to stuff it behind his head. “You’re different.”

You pull away slightly, a little dejected.

“No—shit, I don’t mean it like that.” Eddie quickly clears up, “I just—we don’t look at each other that way, right?”

“Are you asking me that? Or yourself?” You counter, knowing full well where this conversation could take you, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Don’t say that.” Eddie brow furrows in frustration, mouth downturned slightly. It wasn’t quite a frown, but a face of fear, unknowingness.

“Eddie, seriously.” You tell him monotone—no jokes, no stupid attempts to make him feel better. “Ask yourself that.”

“You always talk about how much my brother disgusts you.” Eddie defends weakly. “Doesn’t that kinda translate over or something, since we’re twins?”

“His personality disgusts me, yes.” You clarify, “But I’d be blind to not find you two attractive—I don’t think I’ve ever tried to hide that. I call you cute all the time.”

“Yeah, but—cute as in like “oh, cute”, that’s different.” Eddie tells you like he’s got it all figured out. But, he’s so stubbornly stuck in his own ways that he doesn’t even realize what you’re trying to hint at.

“Eddie.” You say his name with a little more urgency, face protesting a vulnerability that only felt safe with him. “You’re hot, is that what you want me to say?”

Eddie’s face turns a beet red, traveling up to the tips of his ears. He can’t form a single word in the English language without making a complete fool of himself, so he stays quiet.

“Dude, I will deflower you—if that’s what you want.” You tell him, skipping past the nuisance of hoping he’d catch on.

“I’m not a flower.” Eddie pouts, reminding you exactly what you liked him so much.

“God, Eddie—I want to have sex with you.”

Eddie sits up slightly, eyeing you carefully—it’s like he’s taking you in under a new light, “Won’t that make things weird?”

“Not unless you want it to.” You shrug, mimicking his actions and raising to your knees. “Casual sex is fun, you know?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Eddie reminds you softly, eyes wandering toward his lap aimlessly.

“Do you want to?”

Eddie eyes you hesitantly, scared that this might ruin everything. There was never a doubt in your mind that it would, but Eddie’s a constant worrier and you can see it bothering him already. You smile comfortingly, holding up your pinky to him.

“Only if you want to, Eddie.” You explain, eyes soft as you look at him, his own features softening in response, “It changes nothing, I promise.”

Eddie smiles slightly, reaching his pinky up to wrap around your own, signifying just how fast everything was about to change.

The giggles set in soon after, fumbling through the slow drag of clothes as you pull Eddie’s shirt over his head, his worn mattress creaking as you moved around to stand, pulling him up by his jeans and fumbling with his belt before shoving him back down, following as you fell to your knees on the floor between his spread legs.

“Oh! No, that’s—“ Eddie interjects quickly, hands held out midair and unsure of where to land, “we can skip to the good part if that’s easier.”

“You’ve never had your dick sucked before have you?” You ask, unzipping his pants in the same action, his chest heaving sharply as he took a breath. “That is the fun part—sex is fun but so is everything else.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like—“

“Eddie,” You pause, waiting for him to make eye contact with you, “I’m saying this was all the love I have for you—shut up.”

Eddie laughs weakly, “Okay, okay. Sorry.”

“Here, hips up—“ Eddie obeys, lifting his hips high enough for you to yank them down to his knees and off his legs, leaving him naked aside from his underwear, dick already tenting his boxers despite having not touched or even kissed you.

It’s endearing actually, teeth digging into your bottom lip as your finger pulls at his boxers testingly, waiting for him to give you the go ahead. He nods, face pinched together in concentration as you pull the piece of clothing away, eyes turned toward the ceiling in an attempt to calm himself.

Well, that and if he looks at you with his dick in your mouth he knows it won’t last long.

And admittedly, you didn’t have any expections—knowing Eddie for so long took out the intial awkwardness you would usually feel with sexual partners.

“Last chance to back out.” You joke, Eddie’s laugh getting caught in his throat.

“No—no, I’m good.” Eddie nods.

The first touch is careful, taking his cock in your hands gently, watching the hard ridge of his neck as swallows, eyes carefully calculated toward the ceiling. You’ve never really cared much for size or looks, dicks weren’t really there for show, but Eddie’s easily takes the cake. He’s perfect, girthy, and just the right length to not immediately scare you at the idea of taking him inside you—which is a very real fear in your case, your tongue swiping against the flushed tip teasingly, and Eddie releases a shaky breath.

“You okay?” You ask curiously, his hands white knuckling his sheets. They lessen slightly at your words, nodding his head silently.

It’s enough confirmation for you, taking half the length of him in your mouth in one go, tongue flattening against the bottom as back up, gathering a small bit of saliva to spit out over the head. The noise is enough to have him choking on air, his breath coming out in soft pants.

“Eddie,” You say melodically, eyes peering up at him as your tongue stretched across the underside of his shaft. Eddie looks down shyly, landing on you immediately, “you can look, I don’t care.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Eddie admits, “I don’t think I can, not if I want this to last.”

You shrug coolly, “Just tell me to stop if it gets too much or too close.”

You blame the boldness in your calmed nerves, laughing softly as you took him in your mouth again, his eyebrows melting into one as he groaned, plush lips parting slightly.

“Fuck, that’s—“ Eddie sighs, “holy shit.”

You giggle to yourself, leaning down to roll your tongue around the tight sack of his balls, pulling just the sound you expect out of him—a strangled gasp at the unexpected action, murmuring a soft, “You can’t—you can’t do that.”

“Too much?”

Eddie nods weakly, his hand hovering on his knee, wanting to touch but not knowing if he should. You do the work for him, burying his fingers around the curve of your head, squeezing until he grips a small portion of your hair.

“You lead, okay?” You instruct. Eddie offers a quiet acknowledgement, watching as you close your lips around the head of his cock, the pressure of his hand featherlight as he motioned you down, stammering out words that you couldn’t make out until he finds a manageable rhythm—it’s slow, but it works. Eventually you find yourself growing bored, pushing a little further than he’s expecting as he tips the back of your throat. He tugs at your hair involuntarily, shoving you deeper until you’re gagging around him, pulling away with rugged gasp.

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie quickly apologizes, pulling away as you caught your breath, eyes watering from the sudden intrusion.

You shake your head, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. “It’s okay—I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Eddie laughs in disbelief, resting back on the palms of his hands, feeling more comfortable with himself than earlier.

“Can I—“ The words linger, his eyes traveling to the jeans still on your body, “I’ve never—I mean I’m probably really bad but I wanna try.”

“Sure.” You answer with a giddy nod, it was often that men offered and you weren’t about to turn down the opportunity, even if it took a little coaching.

Eddie switches positions, waiting until you’re laid out underneath him to pull at your pants, catching onto the hem of your underwear and yanking them off in one go, tugging at where they get caught around your ankles. Eddie laughs, the clothes flying out of his hands comically at how roughly he tugs.

When he’s finally settled his eyes wander up towards yours curiously, waiting for instructions—he knows that you know how clueless he is and he’s accepting how embarrassing it may be. But, he’s a pleaser and eager as ever.

“There’s not much to it,” You tell him, “—here, let me see your hand.”

He’s not completely inept, his fingers spreading through your folds without being told, his middle finger dragging down the seam toward your entrance, barely breaching.

You giggle slightly, chest shaking at the motion, “Up here,” You tell him, dragging his finger up toward the small bundle of nerves, “that’s where it feels the best.”

His finger rubs experimentally at the sensitive nub, the nod you give in response is enough to lead him down the right path, he licks at his fingers instinctively to wet them before pressing them back against your clit—it’s enough to make your body run hot, knowing that he doesn’t even realize what he just did.

“Huh—okay, so basically just do the same thing with your tongue and you can use your fingers too—,” Eddie slips a finger inside of you gradually, a vivacious grin on his face as he eases inside, “yeah, that.”

He urges your legs over his shoulders until he can get a decent grip with one hand, palm wrapping around the top of your thigh to spread your legs open wider, his mouth settling against your cunt, hot breath trapped between your legs as pressed the flat of his tongue against you, dragging it up toward your clit and down again, his finger moving slowly inside of you until he’s knuckle deep, failing to separate his brain into two places as he gets a little too enthusiastic, lips closing around your clit as he flicks his tongue teasingly until it’s nearly unbearable.

“Shit, shit—okay.” You tap at his shoulder gently, “That’s good—just, slower.”

And despite how hard it is for Eddie to focus, he’s still a great listener. He does slow down, attempting to focus on pairing the two together before forgoing his fingers completely, hands wrapped around both your thighs to give his mouth full focus, squeezing at the tender part of your skin with every noise you make, a soft whine leaving your mouth as he flicks the tip of his tongue over your clit, his eyes connected with you briefly—he looks ridiculous, given the circumstances.

Eyes strained red from the weed and half-lidded slightly, feeling triumphant in the way you moan openly at his actions, fingers dragging into his bangs and pulling them back, guiding his face in a subtle motion against your cunt, directing him at the speed you’re searching for and he rolls with it easily, his hips rutting against the sheets absentmindedly.

It isn’t unnoticed to you though, the soft curve of his ass on display as he planned to ruin his sheets further—truthfully, you can’t stand to see it happen.

You push him away gently, his mouth shining with slick wetness as he peers up at you through a haze of lust and being absolutely blazed out of his mind.

“Condoms?” You ask, “You have some, right?”

“Well, no. Obviously.” Eddie answers truthfully, causing you to sigh in response, falling against the bed in defeat, “Wait—actually…”

He leaves the bed briefly, traveling over to his brother’s side to yank open a door, rummaging through it messily. It takes a minute, but he eventually finds a small foil square stuffed in the back, holding it up between his fingers.

“Last one.” Eddie smiles, “Lucky us, I guess.”

“An even bigger fuck you now that he has to buy more.” You comment snidely, watching as Eddie fumbled with the package. “Do you need help?”

“I’m not that clueless, sweetheart.” Eddie says defensively, though his voice is just as endearing. He does get the package open eventually, slipping the condom on with ease—he’s practiced a few times, but it wasn’t something he needed to admit to.

“Do you want to—like this?” You ask him, watching as he positioned himself between your legs, feeling a little uncertain.

“Uh—“ Eddie blanks, searching your eyes briefly, “Maybe you could get on top?”

You grin, nodding eagerly. Eddie surprises you with a hand wrapping around your waist, an unnecessary shoe of strength as he heaves you onto his lap, hips hovering as you reposition yourself. He’s got a firm hand around his shaft, eyes narrowed in concentration as your fingers wrap around his own wrist, guiding him toward your entrance.

It’s slow, gradual, but an instant breath of relief as he sinks inside you, mouth parting with every inch that you took until he’s fully bottomed out and buried inside you to the hilt.

Eddie clears his throat, struggling to keep things normal and level and not completely lose his goddamn mind. He couldn’t even tell you how he ended up in this situation, even if it was staring him right in the face.

“—Eddie, are you with me?” Your voice fades in, Eddie’s attention snapping up to you. “Are you going to survive?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie assures you, his hand settling against your hips, exhaling a shaky breath. “I’m great.”

Your laugh is clipped, a little patronizing as you lift your hips slightly and shift down, “We’ll see about that.”

Eddie’s own laugh dies out on a forceful groan, your hips lifting again as quickly as they come down, just in an effort to tease him.

“That’s—that’s not funny.” Eddie pouts subtly. He could already tell this wasn’t going to last very long, but he wanted to make it worth it—knowing it would never happen again. “Your bra—can I take it off?”

You nod, leaning forward until Eddie can reach around, able to get it on the first try, much to your surprise.

“That’s pretty fucking impresive,” You tell him honestly, sliding the bra down your shoulders and tipping it off to the side, Eddie’s hand already roaming over the expanse of your tits, palming the flesh in his hands. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, biting enough to cause a tinge of pain as an effort to focus on something—anything other than how good you feel around him.

You guide his mouth toward your chest wordlessly, letting him along the dip between your breasts, across the soft mound of flesh, hips lifting synonymously with his movements—it feels easy, but with Eddie, everything always did.

He groans loudly against your skin, head tucked away into your chest as he squeezes at your thigh, blunt nails digging into the flesh. It’s a dull pain but it doesn’t bother you, letting him guide you over his cock in desperation as he opens himself up more and more, panting hotly against your skin.

“Gonna come,” He warns,”—fuck, want you to—to come with me.”

It’s not too much to ask—you would’ve been happy regardless, but the sentiment is noticed. You grab for his hand wordlessly, pressing his thumb over your clot until the pressure is just what you need, guiding him through the motions as his thrusts falter, becoming more and more erratic.

“Fuck, that’s it,” You sigh, the heat growing in your belly quickly, fingers threading into his hair, searching for something to keep you grounded, “—it’s good, keep going.”

Eddie pulls back abruptly, head bouncing harshly against the wall as he takes in the view, the visual of his dick disappearing inside you was the end all, eyes squeezing shut as he came with broken moan, load and punched out, his fingers teetering you over the edge just as quickly, letting out a soft sigh as you clamped around him, over-sensitivity kicking in as you swatted his hand away, hips rocking through the high of your orgasm as it fades quickly and leaves you aching for more.

“What the fuck?” Eddie asks out loud, not to anyone in particular as he sits in a state of disbelief, “That was—“

You chuckle, falling against his chest in a deep state of exhaustion. “It was good, Eddie.” You assure him.

“You’re lying.” He teases, pressing a finger into your side playfully.

“As far as first timers go, it was pretty fucking good.”

Eddie smiles slightly, bashful as his cheeks blush a deep red.

You pull at his ears adoringly, rubbing the red tips between your fingers. “You really are cute when you blush, you should know that.”

“It’s the only thing I have going for me, unfortunately.” Eddie jokes, but you know that’s not true.”

“I don’t know,” You tell him, “You’d be surprised.”

Eddie doesn’t question you when you fall asleep in his bed after, hair still wet from your shower. The eye contact he makes with his brother is tense, smug in the way he knows just by looking at Eddie.

“Not a fucking word.” He bites at him, moving slightly as you turn in his arms, oblivious to the conversation happening above you.

“You owe me a box.” He remarks, knowing Eddie had used up the last condom he had, “And a fucking joint.”

“Fuck off.” Eddie says humorously. As much as the two were constantly at odds, Eddie knew that there wasn’t any real hate toward each other—but it didn’t satiate the fact that his brother still wanted you just as badly, and seeing you cuddled up next to Eddie, it was the kind of heartbreak he’s never felt before—and he buries it deep, deep down.

“And Rick needs you now?” You ask Eddie, tossing your bag on his bed. “It can’t wait?”

“I have to pay him his part,” Eddie explains, “it won’t take long.”

“You say that,” You bicker, Eddie’s eyes softening with the words—it was true, he couldn’t remember a time that it was ever just a ‘quick trip’ to Rick’s, “we need to plan the campaign, Eddie.”

“We will.” He stresses, fetching for the keys stuffed in his pocket. “Just—chill for a bit, eat something—I swear I’ll try to be quick, okay?”

It was an empty promise, but you shrug in response, waving him off—it wasn’t like you had planned this out weeks before, an elaborate campaign that both of you had been excited about, all of it drained from you the moment he leaves, shoving the bag off of the bed as you fall down with a groan, letting out your frustrations into the pillow as it grows in volume.

“Who pissed you off, princess?” It’s the same voice with a different edge, cockiness seeping through.

“Go away,” You moan, turning your face toward the wall, “you’re the last voice I want to hear right now.”

“Damn—Eddie really wound you up, didn’t he?” He asks, taking a seat on Eddie’s bed despite your obvious disdain.

“I’m begging you,” You plead, “fuck off.”

He laughs above you, taking the loose pillow lying on the ground and tossing it at your head gently, “Lighten up, sweetheart—you’re so much prettier when you’re not being mean to me.”

You snap back, turning onto your ass to glare at him.

“Mean?” You draw the word out, face growing hot out of anger.

He held himself much differently than Eddie, but the same in so many ways. His eyes were still just as soft, but the crinkle around the edges when he grinned held a darkness that even you couldn’t miss. In most aspects, he’d always acted as the bigger brother despite him and Eddie only being born a few minutes apart. He was always the first to shield Eddie from their father’s fists, his vile words, comforting Eddie as he cried into his arms—he’s always been more stoic, more detached, and you can see it in the way he looks at people; but not with you.

You know it’s all a front, the anger and snide comments he makes toward you—but it doesn’t snuff the frustration you feel for him.

“You mean I’m pretty when I’m not being a bitch, right?” You argue, “If you’re gonna use your big boy words you should probably stick to them.”

He makes a noise, a little dismissive as he finally relents and leaves without a word, disappearing into the bathroom—and when the shower faucet turns on you feel a breath of relief, having finally shut him up for once.

The wait drags on—and you really shouldn’t have held out hope, taking a seat on the counter as you dug through the half-eaten back of chips, stomach growling in protest as it hoped for something more filling.

“We’re low,” His voice startles you, appearing out of nowhere as he leans against the counter, towel wrapped snugly around his waist, “Wayne gets paid tomorrow, but we don’t have anything to eat.”

“Why are you still talking to me?” You ask desperately, crumbling the bag in your hand and tossing it to the side.

“You used to like me, you know?”

Keywords being used to.

Your eyes bore into him, attempting to ignore the pale slate of skin he dawned, the lack of tattoos only slightly jarring. He was slightly tanner than Eddie, a little leaner, but still held the same structure for the most part. He seems to notice your lingering gaze, pressing up with his palms on the counter to stand at full height.

“What is it about him?” He asks curiously, “My brother.”

“What about him?” You ask flippantly, pushing off the counter until your feet land on the floor with a hard thunk.

“You like him, right?” He questions, beating around the bush.

“To a degree.”

“Enough to have sex with him?” He asks with a low laugh.

“That’s none of your business.” You answer quickly.

He smiles with an edge, evil and full of intent.

“You devirginize my brother out of pity—or what?”

He rounds the counter slowly, menacingly, invading your space—you’ve never felt threatened by him, so the urge to flee never comes, gaze peering up at him in annoyance.

“Do you like him?” He asks, tone digging into your nerves and driving you crazy. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?”

“No,” You respond with a sturdiness, “I’m not falling in love with your brother, not that it’s any of your business, Munson.”

“Ouch,” He laughs deeply, hand resting against the counter as he leans forward, just as hair's breadth away from your ear, “but—you did tell him about your first kiss, right?”

It was a deep repressed memory that you had forced yourself to forget about, face heating up at the thought.

“Only seems fair since you took so many of his.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You warn, eyes darkening.

He leans back slightly, head tilted into your view as his tongue drags along his top row of teeth, “Or what? Your empty threats don’t scare me, princess.”

Your hand raises to shove into his chest, but it never makes it, being shot back down by his own as he reaches for your face, pinching it firmly between his fingers. He can admit he might’ve gone too far, his gaze hot and heavy as he stares down at you—you can’t even be bothered to move, hating the way your body is betraying every moral you had left, proving how easy it was to fall back into old habits.

“Tell me to let go,” He says, almost like a plea, “tell me you want me to let go.”

It feels wrong, like you’re going behind Eddie’s back—but you’re well aware that these are your own choices, you don't need to justify them for anyone.

“If I don’t?” You question, menacing as the answer never comes.

“You try to act like you’re so much better,” He spits, head shaking in dismay, “but you’re just like me.”

He tilts your head up slightly, your hands wrapping around his forearms as he pulls. It stings, the stretch, reaching up on your toes to meet him halfway, his face so close you can taste the mint and aftershave wafting off him, his facial hair only slightly more cleaned up than usual. The loose, wet curls fell over his face—a dark, dirty brown before they dried into their usual dark blonde.

You’ve helped Eddie box dye his hair every few months for the past several years, it’s the only secret he’ll take to the grave. He’s tried so hard to differentiate himself from his brother and it’s the only part of him that felt real, no matter how fake it actually was.

“You’ll fuck my brother, but you won’t fuck me—“ He pauses, trying to decipher the look on your face, seeing if it falters, but you’re as stoned-faced as possible, teeth gritting in annoyance, “seems a little unfair, doesn’t it?”

“You tell me,” You snark at him, venom in your tone, “since you want to fuck me so bad, right?”

“That’s a little much.” He retorts, “Don’t pride yourself too hard.”

You pull a face of deep want, mocking his voice despite how much softer you sound, it gets the message across either way.

“Let’s be each other’s first, okay?” You tell him, with the same intensity as he spoke to you those few years ago, curled up on his bed while Eddie was away with Wayne for the day, “I want you so bad.”

“Shut up.” He warns, jaw clenched. You smile devilishly, laughing through your teeth.

“You don’t fool me.” You tell him, his face falling in response, “You really want to fuck me?”

He doesn’t answer, eyes squinting slightly at your question. It seems like a trick, it has to be.

You weren’t even sure why you were asking, but the silence he returns is dreadful.

“Say it.” You demand, attempting to shrink him down to the wallowing, shy man he used to be.

He grins darkly, releasing his hold on your face until both of his palms press against your cheek, holding you still in his hands as his fingers drag over the jut of your lips, the deep furrow in your brow—and for a moment, the hate dissipates and you see it. Him, underneath the act.

“Right here,” He instructs, stilling you where you stood, “I know that pretty little mind is so worried about my brother walking in on us—would ruin everything, wouldn’t it?”

He’s already got a hand against the button of your jeans, popping it open skillfully, “I do want to fuck you—but I’m not gonna be nice about, sweetheart.”

“I never asked you to.” You challenge, letting him shove you against the edge of the counter, the sharpness digging into your back as he forced your pants down, mouthing hot, wet open mouthed kisses against your thighs until the clothing disappeared behind him, towel sagging around his waist as it loosened. You kicked it away with your foot, earning a chuckle from below.

And he’s not shy, rubbing his fingers over your clothed pussy, forcing yourself to swallow the shaky breath in your throat as he peers up at you, mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Don’t think this is for my brother,” He rubs a finger over the soft patch of wetness, “is it?”

“Why do you care?” You ask harshly, letting him guide your thighs apart slightly, raising his mouth to meet his fingers, tongue flattening over the fabric. It makes you gasp, the boldness and lack of shame he had for wanting to taste you.

He moans lowly, but it’s amplified through the silence that grows around you, his teeth dragging up gently until the fabric snags and he pulls the waistband away, letting it snap back painfully.

“Just so we’re clear,” He clarifies, “so you can’t act like you don’t want this.”

“I’m great at faking it.” You insult him, but it doesn’t deter him in any sense, his hands yanking at the thin piece of fabric covering your cunt, throwing them to the side.

“Uh huh,” He nods, eyes locked on yours as he repeats his earlier actions, tongue flattened out over your folds and licking up soundly, groaning at the sweetness, “look at me.”

You do, anger be damned. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he hoists your knee over his shoulder, using the leverage to spread you wide, softness quickly fading as he squeezes harshly at your thigh, tongue circling over your clit with a forceful determination, the heat of his eyes still stuck to you, cemented into your mind. And you hate how easy it is to look back, mouth falling open wide as he makes it a mission to worship you in every way possible.

“Probably had to teach him how to eat pussy, right?” He laughs, pulling away for a brief moment to speak, mouth a shining mess as he licks at the remnants of slick on his lips, “You pity him, don’t you?”

“No—no,” His mouth latches back on with a ferocity you can’t handle, fingers digging into his hair for support, pulling until he’s groaning in pain, the moans leaving your mouth are loud and unashamed, cursing at him through clenched teeth, “I don’t pity him—don’t even pity you. I just—“

He rises then, much to your disappointment, “Just what?” He breathes against you, shirt rising as he lips dragged against your stomach until he was face to face with you, eyes wide and waiting for your response.

“Hate you.” You spit out.

“Likewise, princess.” He grins, “Doesn’t change the fact that I know you want to feel what my cock is like—acting like you haven’t been trying to sneak glances, like you haven’t pictured it.”

“Don’t pride yourself too much.” You say, lying through your teeth.

He laughs meanly, reaching for your hand and bringing it to the hard ridge of his dick, tip poking up toward his belly button.

He’s longer, a little thicker, and a lot more intimidating than Eddie—and he knows it. He smirks, dragging the softness of your open palm over his dick and wrapping your delicate fingers around him, “You’re fucking sick.” He insults and you squeeze harshly, forcing a strangled grunt from his chest.

You smile sweetly, the first break in your facade as you find some enjoyment out of watching him in pain, even if it’s brief.

“That’s too bad,” You chide, “I would’ve sucked your cock if you weren’t being so mean.”

“Save it, you might change your mind later,” He laughs harshly, hands squeezing at your hips, “turn around.”

His movements are quick, planned, adjusting you until your entrance is settled over the head of his dick, fistful of hand in his hair, arms held out in front of you to ease the uncomfortable dig of the counter.

“Condom, hello—are you fucking insane?”

He laughs softly, pulling your head back until his lips graze your ear, “I’ll pull out, don’t worry.”

And despite your better interest, you nod, gasping at how easily he slips inside of you.

“You know, he talks about you all the time.” He confesses—and you want to die, wishing he'd choose any other route of conversation, but it’s pointless. “He’s been obsessed with you since we were kids.”

You moan embarrassingly depraved, his hips snapping harshly as he guided your hips back against him just as forcefully.

“I always told him I’d fuck you first—I was wrong.” He adds, jealousy oozing from his tone. “Can’t have everything, I guess.”

“Do you ever—ever shut up?” You ask weakly, voice raw and struggling with every sound that’s punched out of you.

“Oh, don’t act so fucking innocent,” He retorts, “Like you haven’t fucked most of my friends—they talk, sweetheart.”

Eddie pulls harshly, neck bending back uncomfortably as he peers over your shoulder, barely in view as you force yourself to look at him.

“Pretty tits, perfect little pussy—the only reason I let you get away with insulting me so much is because we’re the same, babe.” He tells you, “I could tell you more but—where’s the fun in that?”

“At least—I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.” You bite back, whining as he hits a spot deep inside of you, thrust relentless as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing harshly at the bundle of nerves. It’s enough to make you double over, falling slack against the counter.

“This is for you, sweetheart.” He admits, “Thought you might like it if I—if I dressed like my brother more.”

You can hear it in his voice that he’s struggling to keep himself together.

“Imagine how heartbroken I was when you wanted me out of the club,” He confesses, “not that I give a shit about that stupid game.”

“So you’re desperate?” You ask with an ire of judgment.

“You were fucking my brother two days ago and now my dick is inside you, I wouldn’t talk shit.”

Your retort is pointless, the words failing you as he builds up the rhythm of his hips until you can’t do anything but let your body fall privy to it, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach as he circles your clit swiftly, touching you in all the ways you’ve always wanted, too afraid to ask.

“Fucking take it,” He mumbles to himself, “calling me a whore? Look at you.”

It’s met with your helpless whimpers, the position giving you little choice to snark back, his breaths quickening with each desperate snap of his hips.

“Probably thinking about both of us fucking you together, aren’t you?” He teases, groaning as you clamped around him. “That’s fucking dirty, sweetheart—but it’ll be our little secret, alright?”

You shake your head in annoyance, despite how close you were to falling over the edge, eyes squeezed shut.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell my brother about this,” He assures you, “or next time—or however many times it takes for you to realize you really don’t hate me as much as you think you do.”

“Fuck—shut up,” You growl, “just shut up and make me come.”

And he does, easily, like he’d been holding back until you said the words, moaning brokenly as he keeps his fingers in a constant motion even after you come back down, body shaking from the overstimulation until he’s pulling out abruptly.

“Fuck, turn around—“ He rushes out, “on your knees, open your mouth.”

You don’t even argue, dropping down without a fight. His face scrunches up similar to Eddie’s, looking just as endearingly soft when he comes, eyes never leaving you for a second as he spills over your tongue with a harsh gasp. His free hand reaches up to close your mouth, watching as you swallow him down obscenely—if it were anyone else, anyone, you would’ve spit it out in defiance. But with him, you couldn’t help it.

“Jesus, fuck—“ He groans, “You always this obedient?”

You shrug nonchalantly, poking your tongue out in a show that there was nothing left. “No.” You reply with a playful smirk, rising up to meet him.

“I don’t believe you.” He challenges, a careful step into your personal space. “Look at me.”

You do, feeling his scrutinizing gaze rack your entire body—he’s testing you, trying to find a way to break you down.

“Open your mouth,” He instructs softly, thumb pulling at your bottom lip until he’s got you where he likes, spitting into your mouth without warning—the moan you let slip is, well, embarrassing, “I fucking knew it—swallow it.”

Another simple request, following through on his demand.

“Good girl,” He comments hotly, leaning forward to press a messy kiss against your lips, lips parting immediately as his tongue sneaks inside, dragging against your own, “fuck—my brother would have no idea what to do with you.”

But the loud roar of an engine approaching is enough to make you both paralyzed with fear—because while he may be an asshole, he couldn’t openly break Eddie’s heart that easily.

“Not a fucking word,” You say, swearing him to secrecy, “Go.”

Your heart is in your throat for the entire thirty seconds it takes for you to reorganize your thoughts and redress yourself, quickly fleeing to the room to be met face to face with Eddie’s brother, already dressed and relaxed on his bed.

It was almost as if none of it ever happened.

You can hear Eddie calling your name from the front door, wondering if you had finally given up and gone home.

His brother smirks to himself, flipping through whatever ridiculous raunchy mag he had fetched out of his bedside table, acting as if he wasn’t buried inside you only a few minutes prior. But, that’s exactly what you wanted.

When Eddie finally bursts through the door, he’s already geared with a look of apology, hair a lot more messy than usual and windswept, checks flushed a bright red. He chances a glance at his twin brother, grimacing at the material in his hands.

“Seriously?” He asks, motioning toward you.

“What?” He asks, holding the mag up, “She doesn’t mind.”

They both glance over at you and it makes you want to melt into the earth and be literally anywhere but here, matching expectant expressions as they wait for your answer.

You shrug, “I don’t care.”

“Come on bro, stop being such a prude.” He teases, “You let her take your virginity and you turn into some puritan.”

You clear your throat loudly, eyes shifting pointedly toward Eddie’s brother, “Sorry, too soon?” He apologizes halfheartedly.

Considering the taste of his cum was still lingering heavy in your mouth, it was much too fucking soon.

“A little bit.” You respond crudely, eyes squinting narrowly at him before flicking up toward Eddie. “We still need to plan that campaign out, don’t think I forgot.”

“And there’s my cue.” His brother complains, bed springs squeaking in protest as he flees, but not before he catches your gaze on the way out.

If you only knew the trouble you were about to fall into.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

Special thanks to @jadequeen88 and @usedtobecooler for sending me down this horny ass rabbit hole of a concept.

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[majwrites]

Secrets

Ladybug x Reader

Lemon and Tangerine x platonic! Reader

Lemon and Tangerine wonder who their sibling (reader, referred to as Grapefruit) is going out with. They don't really like what they discover.

Warnings: mentions of former injury, mentions of death and gun violence, fighting between siblings, mentions of anxiety, ibuprofen, not proofread

"No, completely out of question", Tangerine was yelling, "you're not going on this job!". "But I'm ready, besides I can't let you guys go on more jobs alone, it's driving me insane!", Grapefruit stood up from their spot on the couch. "You need time to fuckin heal, you looked like a sieve when we found you after that job and your arm is still healing", things could get loud when Tangerine and Grapefruit were fighting. Lemon knew better than to try and calm them down yet. They would yell at each other for some time and then later on both come crying to Lemon before apologizing to each other and their brother. "If anything, it'll kill me to keep worrying about you guys like that. I'm doing this", Grapefruit had started pacing by now, "I don't want this to end like Bolivia or even worse, like that train incident where I had to pick you up out of a train wreck". "Just sit this one out, it's not that hard. And it'll leave you more time for that guy you're shagging", it dawned on Tangerine that he had fucked up. "You take this back instantly, young man!", Grapefruit didn't care that they were only a few years older than the twins. Tangerine needed a moment to recover and Lemon was already hoping that this would be the end of the fight, but his brother had other plans: "You're so fuckin obvious about it too, you're always texting some guy and never tell us about him, you willingly take phone calls!" "It's none of your business! Anyways, I can never tell you about any guys if I don't want them to end up beaten to the verge of death", Grapefruit had that look on their face and Lemon knew that this fight could quickly escalate now. It was only thanks to Lemon that Tangerine and Grapefruit haven't messed up the living room due to a brawl between siblings in nearly fifteen years. "Alright, this is enough", Lemon stepped in between his siblings, "we should all calm down and discuss this properly once you're both cooled off". He moved Grapefruit to the couch, not oblivious to them cradling their freshly healed arm in the other one. Then he maneuvered Tangerine, who was nervously playing around with his rings, into the kitchen and proceeded to make three cups of tea. From then on the evening went smoothly. Just like Lemon had predicted, in less than an hour both his siblings were crying, then apologized and soon all three of them were sitting in front of the TV, watching some ancient VHS tape from their childhood.

The next morning Lemon and Tangerine left for another job, Grapefruit had agreed to stay at home this time, but they demanded frequent updates on how the job was going. Grapefruit started to get bored when they got a text from a certain guy. Ladybug. Grapefruit could honestly say that they had completely fallen for Ladybug. They admired how caring and sweet he was. He seemed to have an anxiety issue he was working on, just like Grapefruit was working on their own mental health, but with Ladybug it always felt safe to discuss these things. Grapefruit texted back, they'd meet up for a coffee date in the afternoon.

After hanging around in their room and calling Lemon and Tangerine to hear if everything was going well, Grapefruit made their way to the coffee shop. Ladybug was waiting outside and greeted them with a hug. They spent a nice afternoon together and Ladybug had offered to walk Grapefruit home (not completely home, but into their living area). It had become night by then, so Grapefruit called their brothers to hear how the job was going, wished them a good night and went to bed.

Lemon and Tangerine returned home the next day, late in the afternoon. The job had been an easy one and Lemon and Tangerine didn't have any major injuries, just a few bruises and scratches. They found Grapefruit resting on the sofa on the verge of falling asleep, which didn't keep them from announcing their return. Grapefruit needed a moment before sitting up and greeting their brothers. Lemon was the first one to reach Grapefruit who still looked half asleep. "You alright?", asked Grapefruit. "The job went well, but it was exhausting", Lemon took a quick look at Grapefruit's injured arm. It still looked properly bandaged but Lemon noticed something else. He had to tell Tangerine about this so he started making his way to the bathroom. Tangerine followed after greeting Grapefruit and making sure they went back to sleep.

"Did you see it?", asked Lemon. "See what? You'll have to be more specific", Tangerine began scrubbing his hands. "Grapefruit's wrist", began Lemon, "they used to wear two identical bracelets". "Yeah, they've been wearing these for the past two decades. What about it?", he searched the cabinet for nothing specific. "One of the bracelets has been exchanged. They wore two stainless steel chain bracelets, now it's only one and another different bracelet. Silver. Beaded", Lemon was always the twin who paid more attention to details. "What are you hinting at?", asked Tangerine. "Do you know who wears a bracelet like this?" "Oh fuck this", Tangerine buried his face in his hands in frustration, "it's Ladybug".

The brothers couldn't ignore this new bit of information. It wasn't like Grapefruit knew anything specific about what happened on the bullet train. They had picked their siblings up in a hurry, their only words being: "This time I don't even want to know". Grapefruit had been angry back then, but the twins knew that it was only because they worried about their brothers and had been scared about losing them. Grapefruit had never asked about the train again and didn't know who had been involved in the whole ordeal, which put Lemon and Tangerine in a very tricky situation. Ladybug knew about Grapefruit's two brothers, but didn't place the pieces together yet to understand that they were Lemon and Tangerine.

A few days later Grapefruit was getting ready to go out. "Do you have places to be?", asked Tangerine. "I'm going out", they secured the two bracelets around their wrists and dumped their house keys, wallet and phone into a bag. "Alone?", Tangerine began to have an idea already. "I'm going on a date and I'd like both of you to behave while I'm gone", Grapefruit downed an ibuprofen with a glass of tap water. Healing was taking longer than they had expected. "Share your location", instructed Lemon, "and text us when you arrive". Grapefruit didn't disagree. They didn't want their brother to worry more than necessary.

The restaurant wasn't far away and Grapefruit had picked it for their date with Ladybug for a couple of reasons. They could reach it on foot, Grapefruit knew their way around the restaurant and the waiter was happy to let customers point to their meal of choice on the menu instead of making them say the order out loud. This would be helpful for both Ladybug and Grapefruit. Ladybug arrived a few minutes later, Grapefruit took his hand to lead him into the building. They had a reservation for a nice little table in the corner of the room and for once Ladybug and Grapefruit were feeling relatively safe. No problems occurred while ordering and the food didn't take long to arrive.

Ladybug and Grapefruit barely could take their eyes off each other, it was clearly visible to everyone that they were in love. Even Lemon and Tangerine saw it and they were lurking into the restaurant from a high up window that could only be reached by stepping onto the garbage container outside. "I can't believe they're going out, he fucking shot me", muttered Tangerine. "Grapefruit doesn't know about that though, they don't even know that he's been on the train", Lemon tried to remember if Grapefruit could know Ladybug from somewhere else. "They never met on any jobs that I've been on with Grapefruit so it was either a job they finished alone or when you were with them. I don't understand this anyway, Ladybug is ancient compared to them", Tangerine didn't know it yet, but that was the hint to make Lemon remember something. "That's because they're ancient history", exclaimed Lemon, "remember when Grapefruit and I finished that job in Johannesburg?". "The one where you shot Ladybug?", the gears began to turn in Tangerine's head. "Exactly, I shot him twice and Grapefruit had something going on with another assassin during that time, but they never wanted to tell us who it was", concluded Lemon. "So they had something going on with him for years and never fucking told us", Tangerine got angry. "You don't know about that, maybe they just reconnected, I mean they only started acting strange a few weeks ago". "Lemon, I have a plan", and Tangerine dragged Lemon into the restaurant through the back door.

Meanwhile Ladybug and Grapefruit finished up their dessert. "It's very nice here", said Ladybug, "I never knew about this place before". "It's my favourite", answered Grapefruit, "this place always feels so safe". Ladybug agreed. They sat for a while, holding hands. It felt nice to not be in a rush for once, they didn't really have much time for each other when there were jobs to do. Eventually, Grapefruit decided to pay for both of them. Ladybug excused himself to the bathroom, he would mail the money back later. "Are you sure you'll find the way on your own?", asked Grapefruit. "I'm sure", and Ladybug made his way through the restaurant.

When he reached his destination and opened the bathroom door he jumped back, because he was suddenly face to face with Lemon and Tangerine. "Shit, what are you guys doing here? Do you want to scare me to death?", he leaned against the wall behind him. "We're here to ask you about how long your business with our sibling has been going on", Tangerine looked very intimidating. "You are Grapefruit's siblings?", looking back it made sense to Ladybug. "Did you really meet a person called Grapefruit and never considered even once that you know two other people called Lemon and Tangerine who could very much be related to them?", Lemon was much calmer than Tangerine. "Not really", Ladybug still tried to comprehend what consequences this would have. "I'm gonna tell them that you were the one who drugged Lemon and fucking shot me on that train", Tangerine had to be held back by Lemon. "You won't", tried Ladybug. "That's right, I won't. But only because Grapefruit would be upset by it". "What we're trying to say is that if you mess up, we're coming after you", said Lemon, "and there'll be a few more bullets used than back in Johannesburg, do you understand?". Ladybug just nodded. "Alright, now that this is clear, go on and finish this date", Tangerine and Lemon left as fast as they had arrived.

Ladybug and Grapefruit left the restaurant together and once again he offered to walk them home. When they reached their destination this time they kissed under a streetlight, not paying attention to Lemon and Tangerine who were trying to pass by unnoticed.

[justreadertings]

Till Death Do Us Part Chapter 9

Author’s Note: Ok, never (ever!) expect this quick of a turn around, because honestly I’ve shocked myself, but you all were so eager and supportive of last chapter that I sat myself down in all four of my classes, didn’t listen to a damn word, and wrote this instead. The (?) for the swearing is because I literally cannot remember if there’s swearing in this one or not, and I REFUSE to worry any more about this chapter. Next one is going to be a BIG tone shift, so I hope you’re all ready. The big 1-0 means coronation time BB! But for now... them. I’ll stop rambling now. Enjoy!- Much love, your favorite never-stops-talking-bitch, Magee 

masterlist

TW: swearing (?), mentions of violence, angsty rowaelin, mentions of Lyria

2930 Words

Till Death Do Us Part: Chapter 9

The door slowly opened, and the four of them slid into fighting position before Lord Darrow, flagged with three- she rolled her eyes- royal guards, appeared on the other side. A rough exhale passed through the room.

Good Gods, she sent to Rowan’s eyes. He only shook his head in relief. 

The tallest one, arguably just as tall and built as Rowan, with dark features and an angry face barked, “I’ve been here four hours, Whitethorn, and this is what I’m greeted with?”

She watched Rowan’s crisp focus dissolve, and instead, a strange mix of both annoyance and fondness filled his face.

“And why’s Moonbeam your guard?” The other one, slimmer and with long, dark hair and hazel eyes gestured. Fenrys flipped him off. Aelin watched with great perplexity.

“Get here first, Vaughn,” the blond told him.

Rowan nodded to the still open door, his body still tense. “Either this break-in is over, or you’re the worst fucking soldiers I could hire as guards.”

“Which answer suits you, Whitethorn?” Aelin’s eyes widened when she recognized the yin to Fenrys’ yang. A twin, perhaps? 

“It better be the first one, Lorcan,” Rowan warned. 

“It’s your lucky day,” the dark version of Fenrys answered. 

Aelin remembered in childhood that Rowan had said he was lonely, that he wouldn’t mind a brother. Her heart warmed to think that perhaps he’d found them in these men. Though, based on Fenrys’ earlier statement, and her own context clues, it was likely these were the men who’d fought beside Rowan when he’d shipped himself off into the war she declared. In her name, to add to her guilt. Her stomach turned. 

“Where’s your wife?” Lorcan inquired with that gruff voice.

“Fuck off.” Rowan’s voice was gravel.

Lorcan’s eyes widened. He was studying Rowan when Fenrys cut in, “we’ve got quite the day to catch you boys up on.”

Aelin swallowed. Surely they were talking about Lyria. She refused to squirm. Lord Darrow- who she’d honestly forgotten was even in the room, spared her a glance.

“Glad to see you well, Highness.”

Her eyes cut into slants. “As opposed to?”

The man seemed older when he responded, “It is not so often that you have made it out of a raid unscathered, princess.”

Rowan stepped backwards again, as if to protect her from the reminder. His large hand was still bracing her torso. She lightly grabbed his arm, and he realized it, too. Rowan still didn’t move from his perch by her side, but he removed his hand.

“What happened to your face?” The darker Fenrys asked.

Lorcan smirked, and Aelin could feel a passing resentment between the men. “Get beat up by Adarlan skum?”

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Adarlan men broke in here?” She and Rowan shared a look.

“Two,” Vaughn corrected, fingers pressed together. “Very small break in.” Aelin still very much felt violated. 

“Your face, brother?” He asked again. 

“Brawl with another guard,” Rowan cut in, easily, before Fenrys spoke. Aelin squeezed his arm, and though he didn’t respond, she knew he understood the sentiment. Fenrys caught their eyes, and it seemed he understood just as well. 

Aelin watched Lorcan, though, and his sharp eyes were making quick work of their looks. She clasped her band behind her back, hiding her aching, bloody hand. 

“And you are?” The brute asked her own guard. 

Chaol had been watching them like a tennis match. He took notice of her hidden hands before clearing his throat. “Chaol Westfall, the Princess’ personal guard.”

Fenrys put his arm around her guard’s stiff frame. “He’s bushels of fun. You’ll love him, Lor.”

Lord Darrow huffed. “May we all have this glorious reunion elsewhere? I was meant to fetch you both for an emergency meeting.”

She and Rowan shared a look. “Now?” Aelin raised a brow. 

The lord exhaled. “Now.”

“Can I change first?”

Rowan lifted his own brow, seeming to remember that she really was just in her nightgown in this room full of men. Of course, she was their superior, but still, he moved to cover her even more. Fussy buzzard, she thought, unbidden. Her brain was reverting back too many times tonight.

“I suppose.”

She took a final glance at the array of men in the room, all eyes on her, before slipping out from behind Rowan to stalk up the stairs with a nonchalaunt wave. “Great. See you then.” Chaol fell in position behind her, but she felt all of their gazes branded to her back. 

They all seemed to suck in a breath at her horrible scars, but she only drifted up with her chin held high, never turning around once. Let them have a reminder of what could happen should they fail at their jobs.

-

Aelin felt a little bad, honestly, to bother her seamstress at this hour. It was hardly dawn, and here she was, knocking on the pretty double doors, covered by lace curtains. But she needed clothes. She couldn’t exactly wear her twelve year old outfits. 

Surprisingly, Yrene came to the door, a chipper smile on her face. “Your Highness,” she waved her in, and Chaol stood post on the opposite wall, glancing down the corridor for approachers. She thought that perhaps he was scared of the room, knowing that she changed in there. A man with morals, she supposed. But that wasn’t much fun. He didn’t even look at the room. Gods. 

“What brings you here at this hour-” She cut herself off by grabbing Aelin’s hand. “Silba, what did you do?” Aelin laughed, a bit surprised at the sudden inspection. “This is going to get infected if you don’t clean this properly.”

Aelin felt herself give a genuine smile. She liked Yrene. There was a sense of familiarity about her. She didn’t treat Aelin with kid gloves. 

“I’m sorry for my-” Yrene started, realizing her unprofessionalism. 

“No,” it was Aelin’s turn to cut her off. “I quite enjoy it.” 

Yrene smiled. “Good.” She pulled Aelin to sit on the soft, golden couch, and kneeled to inspect her hand further. As if they’d been friends for a great long while, Yrene gave her a conspiratorial look. “Do I even want to know how you achieved this?”

Aelin winked. “It would only shock you.”

The seamstress fell quiet for a moment, grabbing a metal box under her work desk, littered with tools. “That’s ok,” her tone was a bit serious. “You don’t have to tell me.”Aelin appreciated the sentiment. Not many people gave her that grace. Men were nosy. Yrene seemed to know that fact just as well as she did. 

Aelin stayed quiet as Yrene dutifully worked on her hand. She ran a warm cloth over her fist, her touch motherly. She cleaned the wound, examined the cuts, and wrapped a clean bandage around her knuckles, a bit of padding under it. When she was done, she squeezed her hand and said properly to herself, “All better.”

Aelin watched with a fondness. “You’re exceptional at this, you know,” she said, her tone casual, even if she was extremely touched by the gesture. 

Yrene started, her golden eyes swimming with thought. “Oh. You think?” She stood, busying herself cleaning up. 

“I think,” Aelin told her. 

  A silence took up the room before Yrene waved her off. “Well, needle and thread work for fabric and people. It’s not too difficult.”

Aelin stood, and grabbed her hand. They stared at each other a moment. “Yrene.” The other woman looked at her, searching. “You don’t want to be a seamstress. Do you?”

Yrene’s face grew both soft and pained with emotion. She glanced down at Aelin’s newly bandaged hand. “No,” she replied simply, a thumb padding over her handy work. “I don’t.”

Aelin squeezed her hand, hoping that she could convey her understanding with just that gesture. And because Yrene did not demand answers out of Aelin, she would return the favor. No explanation was necessary.

They stayed that way for a moment before Yrene started again, something Aelin was growing used to from the woman. “I actually haven’t properly asked you why you’re here.” She changed the subject, her tone casual. 

“Yes,” Aelin sighed, remembering herself. “I need a dress.”

“For?” Yrene inquired, already searching through her boxes of dresses. Aelin ignored the gorgeous white gown still up on the platform. 

“A meeting. Actually, for the day.”

Yrene’s eyes peeked up from behind a ginormous bundle of fabric across the room. “Your closet isn’t full?”

Aelin paused. She liked Yrene, she did. But she had plenty of secrets that kept tight to her. So she relied on this system of “no-questions-asked” she and the seamstress had created. “I wouldn’t know. I do not venture into that room.”

Yrene hummed, hands on her hips. She glanced up with her pretty eyes, made more golden by the rising sun peeking through the windows. “I can have them moved in here, if you would like?”

Aelin’s heart clenched. For as much of a disaster as this morning was, she was finding herself with many positives here in this room. She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice when she replied, “I would very much like that.”

“I’ll have it done today then, Majesty.”

The second time someone had called her that this morning. Aelin told her, “You know, I’m not entirely queen yet.”

Yrene hummed again, padding around the room. “By name, perhaps.” Her gaze caught Aelin’s. “But you are queen. You participate in this court as such. You should be awarded that title.”

Aelin smiled at her. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Not just me, Aelin,” Yrene told her, whole-heartedly, handing her a long, cerulean dress to match her eyes. “Many people want you on that throne.”

-

“We should push the coronation back.”

“Absolutely not,” Aelin objected.

Rowan said, “If we must have a public appearance, we might as well get it over and done with now. It would lower the risk of an invasion between now and then.”

Lord Ren countered, “This is the first invasion we’ve had in four years. Once they confirmed that she wasn’t here,” his eyes cut to Aelin, “They stopped coming. Flat out showing where we’re hiding her doesn’t exactly keep us safe.”

Aelin massaged her temples. This was getting exhausting. 

Rowan had formally introduced her to the newest members of the Royal Guard, now some of their highest ranking men, as his Cadre. 

“It’s what we were called over there,” Connall- Fenrys’ twin brother, she’d learned- had informed her. “Band of brothers who fought really well.” The thought made her queasy. 

Now, Lorcan clasped his hands over the map of the realm lining the table. “Is hiding her the best option then?”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, his features hardening. “What are you implying?”

Once again, Aelin noticed Lorcan taking inventory of how quick to anger Rowan was. Brood, she said to him with her eyes. 

Brat, he shot back at her. 

She watched Lorcan look at them, too. Their new Captain of the Guard said, “Not implying anything, Whitethorn. Just that perhaps we should think about the consequences of presenting her like a prize to win.”

Before actual steam poured out of Rowan’s ears, Aelin told the group, “So let them in.”

Rowan’s green eyes met hers. “What?”

She shrugged, not thinking of the actual implications of what she was saying. “Let’s hold one enormous wedding-slash-coronation, have me there as if I’d never left, like everything’s normal. Let them think I’ll be in public often. Let them all get a real, nice, good look at me.” Her council thought about it with wide eyes. Her voice dropped into something sweet and deep. “You can’t exactly steal something when it’s out in the open.”

Silence overcame the room, and she could only hear her own heartbeat as they thought about it. Her mother had told her, a long while ago, that she was to remain smart, always. She took it to heart, and delivered her lines well. 

“That’s actually quite brilliant,” Chaol surprised her, from his spot behind her chair. She turned with a raised brow. He cleared his throat as the Unified Lands of Terrasen’s most important members all turned to stare at him. “It’s just- she has a point. My father was a war strategist up in Anielle, and I spent my childhood learning to plan such things. If we treat your- our-” he corrected, “people like a war to be won… we could learn to outsmart them. Make them believe they have the upper hand, when really, we’ll be watching them as they think they’ve gotten an in. They’ll think us the stupid ones.”

Aelin was taken aback- both by his admission of anything personal- and because of his support. She hadn’t been called brilliant in a long time.

Darrow lifted an impressed brow at both Aelin and Chaol. “My King?” he asked.

Aelin saw the gears turn in Rowan’s head, knew that with his Cadre watching him like that, it was the look of a calculated, smart warrior who was thinking this through. Finally, after a sigh, “As much as I want to decline in favor of my future queen’s safety… it is a wise move. And a clever display of war strategy from our princess.” His eyes cut her glance. “We should all keep her talents in mind next time we meet. Until then, we have a celebration to plan. Adjourned.”

With a nod and bow from their members, the court began to stand, all meandering and talking amongst themselves. Ren did not look happy, but Aelin didn’t know the last time that happened.

Before Rowan walked out, she caught him in the hallway. He turned, and before she spoke she shot a look to Chaol. He backed up a few steps into the hall, leaving them at least partially alone in the alcove. 

“Hey,” she said, the sun warm on her back. 

Rowan nodded at Fenrys to also take a hike, and he went to talk to the other members of the Cadre. “What’s wrong?”

Aelin’s brow furrowed. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

Rowan huffed a laugh. “The last few times we talked, that’s been the common theme.”

It was Aelin’s turn to snort. “Yeah, well, it hasn’t exactly been an easy transition home.” Rowan nodded, searching her face. Regret lined his harsh features. 

“So what is it then?’

Aelin closed her eyes for a moment, pushing past the awkwardness of what she was about to ask. “Are you a Lyria sharing rooms?”

Rowan’s green eyes turned wide, almost scared. “What?”

“I mean- well, I- I know you’re sharing… beds,” she cringed. “But I need to know if she’s moved into your rooms.”

“Why?” Tension lay tight on his neck. 

“Because if someone asks me about the situation, I don’t know what I’m going to tell them,” she told him, honestly. 

Rowan seemed to be at war with his thoughts, bringing a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. In another lifetime, she would have made fun of him, telling him he seemed like an old man.

“Tell them that I was engaged to Lyria before I knew about Article 240.”

“And what do I tell them about now?” She pried.

“Tell them…” he struggled. “Gods, tell them it’s complicated.”

Her heart squeezed. “Complicated.”

Rowan lowered his hand, his body tense under his white shirt. His very distracting white shirt. Where she could see the outlines of his muscles. He’d been strong when they were young but… not like this. She snapped to focus at his serious tone. “Aelin, you are going to be my queen. You are my partner. I will defend you, protect you. I do not take that lightly. That does not mean nothing. But Lyria…”

Aelin swallowed. “I get it.” She waved him off, ready to go back to her rooms and take a long, nice bath, to try and forget this conversation. But Rowan grabbed her arm, holding it in a soft grip, but close to him. She could feel his breath on her face as she turned to look up at him.

“I-” His gaze dropped to her face, then to her body. She knew the dress Yrene had given her hugged her curves more than the other dresses she had tried on, even as it was long sleeved. She tried not to shiver under his stare. “I don’t think you do.”

Aelin wanted to spend hours dissecting his tone, his gaze, the way he was looking at her and speaking to her and defending her. Wanted to spend days with him looking at her like that, days trying to figure out all the different things they meant to each other.

Aelin tilted her head up to him. They were sharing a breath, heat dancing between them. Her chest heaved a bit. “Rowan I-” 

“Majesty?” A man called down the hall. They broke apart, instantly, the moment ruined. Aelin put her hand around her collarbones, trying to calm her beating heart. Rowan’s face was flushed, but he turned to the man, professional.

Aelin swallowed, pushing her hair out of her face. “Later, then, my king?”

He nodded to her, then began to talk what sounded suspiciously like a Healer’s conversation about early pregnancies. Her stomach turned queasy, as if she were the one dealing with morning sickness. She watched Rowan tug on the very ends of his hair, something he only did when he was frustrated.

Later, she thought, warmth still filling her despite the cold reality check of Rowan’s impending fatherhood. Later. 

Ok so I’m a taddd obsessed with these characters and setting them up for long, slow-bun type development. Sue me. But yeah, I can’t lie, this is a TOTAL self-indulgence fic based on a book I’m going to write in the future with name changes and a few tropes I don’t think I can get away with in the actual book lol. anyway, the point is that I want to talk about them and geek about this fic even though it’s mine, even if that sounds totally unhumble lol. Yrene in this fic just has my heart, I don’t know, raise ur hand if u agree. Ok, work in the morning, and a gentle reminder this is not a Magee- Update blog, this is a Rowaelin blog. Enough writer-rambling. Goodnight lovelies, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Much in store for this fic, so stay tuned!

-Much love, Magee

Taglist: 

@leiawritesstories​

@tomtenadia​

@fireheart-violet​

@backtobl4ck​

@morganofthewildfire​

@rowaelinismyotp​

@aelinchocolatelover​

@thegreyj​

@foughtconquered​

@swankii-art-teacher​

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[papaerloy]

SBI ACTOR AU BRAINROT LETS GO.

This is just a list of stuff I´ve written down for an SBI/DSMP actor AU that´s been living in my mind rent free. I´m currently working on a oneshot for this AU so stay tuned!

list is under the cut because it´s LONG and I want to be polite to your feed.

SBI FAMILY WITH TECHBUR TWINS AND TOMMY ALL BEING PHIL AND KRISTIN’S BIOLOGICAL KIDS THANK YOU.

They’re all actors, or just big personalities in general-

Kristin is a little more lowkey, she’s had acting roles before, but she’s more like the backbone of the family that keeps everyone together, since life can be hectic when everyone’s eyes are on you.

Phil has his own TV show where he’s a winged adventurer who travels around a huge fantasy world, explores the massive structures and interacts with the deity’s and creatures inhabiting it! (Biggest moment in the series was totally The Battle For Endlantis)

Wilbur has been acting since he was a child, starring in a series called “Soot House” for most of his early to late teen years, before the series ended. (Disney child star Wilbur GSKFJSJHSHDEHSH)

Wilbur also absolutely still made his ARG.

Despite taking roles here and there, Wilbur quickly moved on to direct and act for his own series and movies, like a small series called “Earths Empires” that sadly didn’t last long, but he got to star his family and friends in it, so it was fun nonetheless!

Wilbur also loves music and later on goes to start Lovejoy with his friends, which he then focuses more on than acting, but still manages to juggle both careers. (I mean really? This man only doing only one thing? As if.)

Techno is a good actor, but he is even better at martial arts and has a nag for competition. Which is why he’s part of a competitive series called “Hypixel” which is a really random wacky series, that puts the actors in situations where they need to complete challenges and Techno is of course a beloved contestant because TECHNOBLADE NEVER DIES!

Technoblade is obviously not his real name, but the alias he uses in Hypixel. Yet everyone just calls him that now because he is very iconic with his long pink hair, golden crown and the pig mask he wears with his very royal looking dress style.

Since Hypixel lets the actors pick their own brand and looks, Techno honestly doesn’t change much from when he’s on screen compared to when he’s off screen.

Techno actually dislikes the attention outside of work and tends to wear different kinds of face masks with cool designs on them. (One specifically loved by the public is a light pink face mask with golden embroidered tusks on the sides, based off his Hypixel brand.)

Tommy was firmly kept out of the spotlight as much as Phil and Kirstin could manage. All of his childhood and also his early teen years, he never had any acting roles apart from like school plays and normal kid stuff...

It’s all due to Phil and Kristin realizing letting Wilbur be a child actor/star was a big mistake that they didn’t want to repeat. (The pressure was too great and it kinda fucked Wilbur over due to the harsh nature of the acting world.)

Tommy has always been interested in the acting world though, he wanted to be cool like his big brothers but had to wait... So instead he made his own little films together with his friend Toby! (Better know as Tubbo because that’s just what everyone calls him) Who just so happened to be in the same boat as him, regarding the whole “my family does acting but I’m too young and not allowed” thing.

The two of them just made silly little comedy skits, but they’d get a decent viewing on Youtube and were quite enjoyable.

( Tubbo is related to Schlatt, who is a well known actor as well. Just like Phil and Kristin, he didn’t want Tubbo to be exposed to the actor world too early. Mainly due to he himself going down a pretty harsh path, because of diving straight into it at an early age. He is better now and a really good dad! )

Tommy did eventually start appearing occasionally on Hypixel because Techno was on there.

Later on Tommy got his first role in an actual series, it was “Earths Empires” that was directed by Wilbur, mainly because Phil and Kristin thought it to be a good and safe place to start.

Tommy’s very first BIG role was when him and Tubbo were cast for a new series called “The Dreamer” (or something).

Tommy got to play a young and chaotic teen called “Tommy” (the writers liked his name, thought it fit the character well). While Toby’s character was named “Tubbo” (the writers found his nickname really endearing), who was gonna be Tommy’s best friend and partner in crime.

When being cast for “The Dreamer” Tommy once again got to meet the actor called Clay, who he had met in the past due to Clay having been starred alongside Techno a few times. This time, he was the person that was gonna play the character Dream in the series.

Clay was a man who seemed to be constantly increasing in fame due to starring in a series of films called “Manhunt”. Where he was a clever and agile man, who had to survive while being on the run from hunters who wanted to kill him. The number of hunters seemingly increasing every movie.

Funny enough the actors who played the hunters from the first “Manhunt” movies, George and Nick, also starred in the new series, but this time they would be Dream’s friends called George and Sapnap, Which was more close to their actual real life relationships as well.

The Disk Saga was a huge success and the series very quickly grew in popularity! Tommy was very happy to be one of the main characters alongside Tubbo.

Tommy’s own fame started to grow more rapidly after that, becoming a very beloved character and actor very quickly.

Of course the family was very proud of Tommy, but Phil and Kristin were still a little cautious, trying not to overbook his schedule and still let him be a kid outside of all this.

Wilbur was of course cast for the new L’manberg independence arc and OH MY GOD THE FANS WENT WILD.

Tommy and Wilbur’s brotherly bond shone through a LOT in their acting and the writers even changed the script slightly to make them more pseudo brothers, since their characters weren’t canonly blood related.

Wilbur was also a co-writer, along side playing the character that was dubbed after him “Wilbur”.

Wilbur´s character made Tommy super uncomfortable during the pogtopia arc and it made their life outside of work a little more complicated.

Techno gets cast into the series during the pogtopia arc as well and Tommy and Wilbur are both super excited to work with Techno on set.

Techno gets to keep his name as well because at this point the writers have let most of the cast keep their real names, so why not keep it going?

At the end of the L´manberg independence arc Phil joins (out of all the actors, only Wilbur knew he was joining the series.) and kills Wilbur as the second season ends with L´manburg in shambles and the fans projectile crying about it.

That is all I have for now! 

Also feel free to ask questions or like do anything you’d like with this stuff!

[utilitycaster]

001: TAZ (Specifically interested TAZ Balance takes but if you wanna mix in Amnesty or the mini arcs between the two go for it!)

002: Percy/Vex (I'm sure you've talked about about them a ton, but as a bit of a new follower I'd love to hear your opinions) 003: Fig Faeth (or if you haven't seen Fantasy High, your pick of Dimension 20 characters)

below a cut simply bc this shall be long as fuck

TAZ Balance

Favorite character: Lucretia

Least Favorite character: none really;

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): I feel there were not really five ships in this but like, naturally, Lup/Barry and Taako/Kravitz were both a delight

Character I find most attractive: I mean, probably Magnus.

Character I would be best friends with: I want to hang out with Carey and Killian

An unpopular opinion: I think TAZ Balance is very good and I love the graphic novels and all that but I do still think that Amnesty was stronger and deserves more accolades.

Most Badass Character: Lup, this is not a question

Most Epic Villain: I guess John? The main antagonist is like,

Favourite Friendship: the Taco Twins

Character I most identify with: Lucretia, for better or for worse. I do not think I am a well-intentioned extremist irl but I think in a D&D story I could absolutely fall into that.

Character I wish I could be: Davenport but after his memory is restored and he's just a sea captain

Percy/Vex

When I started shipping them: hard to say in that I went into C1 knowing how the general ships shook out. I do remember loving their interaction when Percy first tells VM about the Briarwoods and Vex immediately is like "oh this is 100% our problem now too",

What makes me happy about them: everything. My ideal for fictional romances is truly "we are flawed in the same way, but through each other we can see how we are worthy of love despite that" so like, this is my fucking jam.

What makes me sad about them: not much, honestly! lifespan angst was made up by mediocre fanfic writers to sell more mediocre fanfic.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: nothing specific to them; in general I am a very "he would not fucking say that" person when it comes to fanfic so getting the voices right is crucial, but that's always true for any ship.

Things I look for in fanfic: see above; get the voices right.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I mean, they are perfect for each other and no other ships for either of them compare, but I would not be mad at Percy/Tary or Vex/Zahra.

My happily ever after for them: they've got it! Percy just wants to do weird science in a workshop while a competent partner does all the political work; Vex wants the security that power grants her after a childhood and young adulthood of profound instability and emotional abuse, and both want someone who loves even their more vengeful and complicated side, and that's what they're doing!

Fig Faeth

How I feel about this character: She is great. Love how Emily leaned into Angry Teen in a way that felt real and understandable.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Ayda

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: I mean, all the bad kids, but Riz and Kristen are some of my favorites. Also her relationship with Gilear is wonderful.

My unpopular opinion about this character: None really?

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Nothing specific other than "please give us a third season one day, please d20 cast, please"

Favorite friendship for this character: Probably Riz; Emily and Murph as players are hilarious in that they NEVER explore romantic chemistry despite being irl married, but their characters almost always end up really good friends.