#but he also leaves the stove on regularly

[grizzlee30]

Bruce finds out half way through not because Tim did a bad job at forging his fake twins sister’s documents, but because he forgot to make new documents for himself. He says nothing to anyone, and quietly forges the documents himself. Tim does not notice this until years later.

The only acceptable trans Tim headcanon would be Tim introducing himself to the batfam as a boy from the get-go with such confidence that no one questions him. Then, his first solo case as Robin is investigating the disappearance of Jack and Janet Drake's "daughter," so he pretends to have a twin sister by forging a bunch of documents and photoshopping family pictures. He then fabricates evidence of her death, committing multiple crimes in the process, and holds a fake funeral at the end. Because if his previous name is dead to him, he's gonna kill it the Tim Drake way

[manikas-whims]

will the Love and Deepspace men peel an orange for you?"

XAVIER

ABSOLUTELY!

⭐ He knows the disaster that he is when it comes to cooking. But this is infinitely easier cause it doesn't involve stoves or any kinds of electronics to make something for you. So, if you ask him to, he'll nod with a soft smile, peel the orange for you and even feed you.

⭐ It's just that after treating you like..two slices, he'll be handing the plate to you and say something along the lines of, “My turn.” And patiently wait for you to feed him as well. He'll let you have the princess treatment but he'll want the same in return.

⭐ If he's feeling more playful, he might put a slice between his teeth and inch his face close to yours, inviting you to take a bite (like a game of pocky).

ZAYNE

YOU DON'T EVEN NEED TO ASK.

❄️ You're randomly spending time with him on a weekend, and he just brings a peeled orange for you because apparently fruits are good for your health. He'll insist you to eat a full orange regularly.

❄️ And if you don't eat/act like brat and say no, then he'll definitely get down to feeding you himself, all because as your "doctor" and "friend", he cares a great deal about your well-being.

❄️ He'll bring out the playful side of you, making you want to snatch the plate and feed him instead because you also "care about his well-being a lot. The problem is, he'll willingly indulge and take a bite, leaving you a blushing mess.

RAFAYEL

“I’M THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE GETTING FED!”

🌊 You ask him, and he'll tell you how generous he is for always letting you hang around his place however you please. If anything, you're the one who should be peeling oranges for him!

🌊 He's yapping non-stop but he's already peeling an orange. He'll be grumbling about how the peel is getting under his fingernails and destroying his immaculate painter's hands but he'll still be doing it.

🌊 You'll be rolling your eyes at his antics, and shaking your head in exasperation but the moment you pick up a slice, he'll take hold of your wrist, guide it towards his own mouth and eat the slice, all the while winking at you.

» MASTERLIST «

[nanamin-nah-nanamine]

Nanami Kento NSFW alphabet

I hope you guys enjoy this long awaited headcanon! If you enjoy pls leave a like,rb and if you’re feeling extra girly pop maybe a little comment ^_^

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kento is very practical in his aftercare to the point of it being a bit boring and routine, but that's the way he liked it. He wasn’t too fond of surprises in general, but especially not during a time that was meant to be soothing and bring both of you back to a leveled headspace. In other words, he’s basic. Two glasses of water on the nightstand, balms for soothing and dinner laid out on the stove in case you two had jumped the gun and hadn’t gotten to it yet.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Kento is very proud of his chest and his thighs. In coming back to Jujutsu society and being back on a strict training regiment, he’s happy with the fruits of his labors and he’s even more pleased when you grope around his chest and hum in appreciation. He’s a simple guy and having his lover’s hands all over him is a simple pleasure that he wishes to overindulge in whenever given the chance. If you were to ask him your favorite part about you, he would say everything and kiss your temple. If you were to ask him again and ask him to be brash, he would say with a red blush on his cheeks your ass. He loves how plush it feels, how it molds perfectly against him when the two of you cuddle and the sounds you make when he strikes it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s not the biggest fan of mess so if you’re having protected sex he prefers to just cum inside of a condom for easy disposal. If you two are fucking raw then he’s cumming so deep inside you that if you weren’t on birth control there wouldn’t be a year you weren’t pregnant💀

But Kento is Kento and he’s nothing if not safe so it takes months before he’s fucking you raw and he’s very dilligent about making sure your pill is taken on time and regularly. He does want kids with you but he doesn’t want any surprises.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes when you play with his nipples. He’s got a sensitive chest and even though it’s slightly embarrassing and he likes to act unbothered, he’ll let out the cutest little sighs and buck his hips up if you twist the rosy buds between your fingers and stroke him nice and slow. He likes when you take control occasionally, but he would never outright admit it. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s only had one partner before when he was a lot younger, so most of his experience has been developed through you. He was basically a virgin when you two met, but he’s a diligent learner and we know when Kento is locked in he is LOCKED in.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He really like missionary 🥺 He wants to be able to see your pretty face when he’s making love to you. In general he prefers to have you on your back, and if he’s feeling rougher than usual he’ll put you in the mating press. It’s a win-win situation for both of you, you get your shit rocked and he gets to blow off steam. He likes the way your eyes roll back when he’s fucking you nice and deep 🥴

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’ll let a little chuckle slide now and then, but as mentioned prior when he is locked in he’s locked. When he’s in the moment, he wants to remain in the moment with you, like he’s painting every sound, every twitch of your lip and jerk of your hips to memory. He’s just about as aware as any sorcerer that life is fleeting so he wants to remember every moment he can with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yes y’all the carpets match the drapes 🙄 i’m just playing, his pubic hair is more of a dirty blonde brunette color than the hair on his head. He likes to keep things neat and tidy so he manscapes every week to make sure things are smelling good and its not too rough, because his pubes are actually quite coarse. He worries about your skin when you’re down there so you don’t get irritated. 🥺

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

We all know I am a big fan of tender lover Kento. He’s not a casual lover type of person, so when he finds the one he’s an all in kind of person. He wants to give his body to you, mind and soul, he wants to marry you one day, but due to life being so fleeting it's not something he can promise. So every time he makes love to you, it’s a silent promise he’s making to you, a vow of body and blood. Tied together by your pleasure. Sex isn’t just sex to Kento, it’s love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He is but a man. It's not as often as when he was single, but when he’s pulling over time and his mind wanders to you asleep in your shared bed he gets a little hot and bothered. He’d pull his cock out of his slacks with a hiss and have a napkin ready on standby.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

BDSM. Every aspect of it appeals to Kento. He lives a very high stress life so being able to come home and have a sense of control for once. He’s also not opposed to occasionally giving up control, if you’re into that. It wouldn’t be his first time doing so. He does his research and actually finds the practice to be really stimulating to his mind. He’s more involved in the community than anybody would assume given his looks. He goes to workshops in his own time and comes back looking absolutely pleased with himself as he relays the information he’s learned.

He thinks you look very beautiful tied up and wanting for him. He also can’t help himself but to press on the bruises he’s given you to tease you throughout the day.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Home. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Submission. Complete unabashed submission drives him crazy. He finds it cute when you’re bratty but it makes him melt when you’re good. He can’t help but dote on you and give you whatever you want if you behave and ask him nicely. He does think it’s cute when you think having an attitude is going to get you what you want.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn’t like pain being inflicted on himself or degradation. Those are the two things that would have him safewording. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Like most of the JJK men Kento is a munch. This is a show full of munches and he’s got his degree in munchology from the university of headington. He loves to come home from a long day at work and lay between your thighs, lapping at your clit giving you nice slow orgasms.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It honestly depends on the situation. He’ll give it to you however you want, unless you were being especially bratty. If so then he’s going to tie you up and give it to you so mind numbingly slow until you’re crying and giving him an acceptable apology.

“I-ah! Kento!”you cry out. His hands grip your hips tightly as he pushes in slowly.

“That’s not a full sentence, my dear”he coos, sliding his hand down to rub his thumb teasingly over your clit.

“Mmm fuck!”

“So close baby, but it's not nice to curse your dom”he chuckles, increasing the speed of his thumb, but stopping anytime he feels you get a little too tight.

“Try again.”

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

It’s not really his thing 🤷🏾‍♀️ he really enjoys taking his time when it comes to these matters, so quickies don’t necessarily appeal to him. If you push him enough to make him snap tho, let’s just say the bathroom of the fancy restaurant is starting to look acceptable.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kento kinda just follows the motto of RACK(risk aware consensual kink) he would argue that every type of sex has some level of risk involved(um actually 🤓☝🏻 headass 😒) but since so much of sex is new to him in this relationship he’s game to try new things.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Kento has a good 2 rounds in him I’m ngl🧍🏾‍♀️ but he lasts an almost abnormally long time during these two rounds. He has an immense amount of self control during sex and will hold back his own orgasm until you’ve cum. You can sit there and ride him to your heart's content and he’s not busting until you’re seeing stars.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has an extensive amount of toys in his collection and it’s still growing. He thinks that toys enhance play so he’s completely down to use toys in the bedroom. He likes nice, well made things so he’s got a few small businesses that he gives his business to. He’s on a first name basis with some of the shop owners and he tips handsomely so he’s given tons of freebies. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Nanami Kento is one fucking tease alright. He enjoys teasing you and he’s very eager to use it as punishment because he’s so fucking good at it. It’s mainly because he has unwavering patience and self restraint especially when it comes to making a point. He leans towards edging vs overstimulation when he’s teasing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a sigher and a groaner. He prefers to keep his noises to a minimum so he can hear you, but there’s a really cute thing he does when he gets close in missionary. His cheeks go pink and his ears go red, and he’ll bury his face in the crook of your neck to hide his stuttered moans and grunts. He gets really soft and keening when you rub his back or stroke his hair while he’s thrusting in you. Call him a good boy at the right time and he’s sobbing.

Kento praise kink supremacy.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

His scalp is really sensitive so he likes having his hair pulled. It drives him crazy.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Kento is a good 6-7 inches, he’s definitely packing. The girth of his cock is average and he’s got a slight curve to him.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s got a pretty routine sex drive if that makes any sense 💀 like he’s pretty predictable so it’s easy to fall into a pattern with him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t fall asleep until you’re asleep. It’s always been a thing with him to make sure you’re asleep before closing his eyes. He likes to debrief right after scenes during aftercare so he’s getting you two nice and cozy in the living room with cups of tea and pastries he’s stashed. He’ll hold you close to his chest and praise you tenderly while you guys discuss the scene.

[greensagephase]

🍁A November Morning🍁

So apparently I reached 1k followers sometime this week and I didn't even realize it as it's not something I check regularly but just wanted to say a huge THANK YOU! Here's a short drabble of soft Miguel as a thank you for the amazing support. It truly means a lot to me, THANK YOU!!! Miguel O'Hara x FemaleReader Summary: A slow cold, rainy, and gloomy November morning with Miguel. Word Count: 1,751 Warnings: Just fluff; mention of lovemaking the previous night; soft Miguel (why is he not real?) 🍂Masterlist🍂 

It's a cold, gloomy, and rainy November morning. Miguel lays on your shared bed with his arms wrapped around you as he listens to the pit pat of rain against the windows. He sighs in content, appreciating everything about this moment. It’s the weekend, which means that he finally gets to do this after looking forward to it all week. He can only have these mornings with you on the weekend, with you pressed against him and your body warmth engulfing him in the most wonderful way. If he could, he'd lay there with you all day, burning in your heavenly warmth, listening to your soft breathing. Your head is resting on his bare chest and you have this lovely look on your face that Miguel simply adores, making it impossible for him to leave the bed. He caresses your cheek softly, letting his thumb graze your bottom lip for a few seconds as he admires you in your sleep. 

Yes, he could really do this all day, every day with you without question and how he wishes he could, if only he wasn’t the founder and leader of the Spider Society. With his job, it means that he’s often rushing to HQ to save the multiverse during the week but on these mornings, everything is about you and him. He makes sure of it. Miguel sighs softly again, grazing your skin and feeling grateful for these moments. Miguel stays in bed for another hour, enjoying your warmth before slipping out of bed. He replaces his body with a pillow so you can't fully sense his departure. You mumble something in your sleep and Miguel knows it's about him leaving but you’re still so deeply asleep that you end up hugging the pillow instinctively without another word. Miguel smiles softly and kisses the top of your head before quietly using the bathroom and then leaving the bedroom.

An hour later or so, you stir awake. Your hand moves around the bed, trying to find that specific heat that only Miguel can offer. Your hand finds nothing, making you open your eyes only to find an empty bed. You stay still for a few seconds, hearing the soft drizzle of rain, and smile. 

You get up and make the bed, heading to the bathroom to do your morning routine. You leave the bedroom with the sole purpose of finding Miguel. You stop in your tracks at the sight of the living room. Miguel turned on a few lamps and your twinkling lights, casting soft hues, here and there throughout the space. The fireplace is on and the air is filled with lovely scents thanks to an autumnal lit candle and breakfast being cooked. Then, there's also music; soft, vintage songs that Miguel seems to really enjoy. The living room just looks and feels so cozy, making you wish you could cuddle on a couch with Miguel right now. 

You hear a drawer open and close in the kitchen, snatching your attention back to your mission. You quietly walk into the kitchen, eager to see the sight that waits for you, and you don’t have to wait for long because there he is. Miguel stands in front of the stove with his back to you. He's shirtless but wearing his sweatpants. His soft brown hair is messy from sleeping but also thanks to your fingers after last night’s lovemaking. You see his arm and back muscles flex as he flips food, and you quickly realize he’s making pancakes as the familiar scent fills your nostrils. 

You know he has to know by now that you're there with him. He always knows thanks to his sensitive senses as Spider-Man but he's waiting for you to approach him. You walk over to him, decreasing the distance between your bodies with each step you take until you're behind him. You tentatively wrap your arms around his waist so your movements don't interfere with his cooking and also to avoid any incidents in the kitchen. You lean closer, softly burying your face into his back and inhaling the delightful scent that belongs only to him. You can’t help but get lost in it as your fingers touch his soft, tan skin. You stay like that for what feels like a minute, just enjoying the moment until Miguel turns, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"My turn," he says as he buries his face in your neck. "Coffee, hermosa?" Miguel mumbles into your neck before he starts leaving small, sweet kisses on your skin, making you feel ticklish. 

You fight the urge to laugh and wrap your arms around Miguel, pulling him closer, if that's even possible. "Yes, please," you whisper. 

You let each other go a few seconds later and Miguel is quick to get you a cup of coffee. He leads you to a chair, silently asking you to take a seat and let him do this, something you've grown used to. He always wants to pamper you on days like these when he's off work, asking Lyla to not disturb him unless it's an emergency. You thank him and smile, earning yourself a smile back from him as he returns to the stove. 

"Breakfast will be ready soon, hermosa. Just enjoy your coffee for now." 

You nod and do just that, as the soft music fills the air. It doesn't take long before Miguel brings you a plate with pancakes and other sides on top of a plate with fruit before he joins you. 

The two of you have a slow and peaceful breakfast, talking about anything and everything on this cozy morning. There are no interruptions from outside or Miguel’s duty as a superhero. It’s just the two of you in your shared apartment, enjoying breakfast and each other’s company. 

Once you're done eating breakfast, Miguel cleans the kitchen with your help, even though he insists on doing it himself. You know he wants to make these days special for you but you still insist, wanting to spend time with him even if it’s just while cleaning. You finally convince him to let you help when you think of something you’re pretty sure he won’t turn down. 

"We'll finish cleaning faster together and you know… I was thinking the living room looks so cozy right now. All I want to do is lay on the couch and read a book. Perhaps you’d like to join me?" you ask, and that's all Miguel needs to hear before he accepts your help. 

You notice he even speeds up, which makes you chuckle to yourself. Shortly after, the kitchen is cleaned in half the time it usually takes and now you're on one of the couches in your living room. Miguel and you are under the same blanket, each reading a book with the sound of music and rain still filling the air. 

You love these mornings. Not only do you get to spend them with Miguel but you also get to see the man you love relax. He gets to read books, a hobby he’s only been able to pick up again since he started dating you. Instead of wearing his suit for hours on end, which sure, it’s holographic but still, Miguel wears comfy clothes like his sweatpants. After spending hours and hours traveling from universe to universe on missions and standing on his platform for who knows how long throughout the week, you get to see him rest from so much stress and physical activity. On these mornings, Miguel happily lies on the couch under a shared blanket with you nearby, if not pressed against him. 

The two of you read silently until Miguel puts his book away quietly. He can’t help but watch you as you read, all snuggled up against the couch, lost in your own little world. He smiles and without a word, pulls you onto his lap like nothing. 

“You could at least let me know,” you playfully say, holding on to your book to avoid losing your place. 

“I’m sorry, hermosa. Couldn’t help myself. You were too far away for my liking,” Miguel whispers, cupping your face with his large hands. 

You drop your book on your lap, forgetting it as soon as Miguel’s hands touch your face. You’ll find the spot you stopped at later, it’s no problem. You smile and move closer to him, something that pleases Miguel because he smiles and leans closer. He presses a kiss to your forehead, so soft you barely feel his lips. 

“Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you in my life?” he whispers against your skin. “I don’t know what would be of me if it wasn’t for you.”

You sigh softly and bring your hand to his face, caressing it gently. Miguel sighs now, closing his eyes and relishing the feeling of your soft hand on his face. 

“Hermosa… You don’t know how much I love you,” Miguel whispers. “Thank you for being here. For being part of my life. For accepting me - for loving me.” 

You nod and lift your face, making him open his eyes. You hold each other’s gaze and you smile sweetly at him before kissing his lips gently but lovingly. Miguel’s hands continue to cup your face while your own travel to his neck, pulling him closer as you kiss him. Neither of you are sure how long the kiss lasts as you get lost in the moment. For all you know it may have been half an hour of just kissing and embracing each other but neither of you care. You gently pull apart after some time only to catch your breath. You bury your face into Miguel’s neck, snuggling into his body even more just as his arms wrap tightly around you. 

“I love you, Miguel,” you whisper. “So much. Please never forget that.” 

Miguel smiles softly, inhaling your sweet scent. “How could I ever forget, hermosa? I feel your love every day, in so many ways… I love you. So much more,” he whispers back, which just makes you hug him even tighter. 

The two of you remain like that for some time, listening to the gentle rain on your apartment windows and the wonderful music Miguel chose for this lovely morning until he asks you to dance and of course, you accept. The two of you slow dance in your dimly lit living room, embracing each other lovingly on this cold and rainy November morning. 

🍂 🕯🍂 🕯🍂🕯 🍂🕯 🍂 🕯🍂

Translation for italicized word in Spanish: Hermosa - Gorgeous, beautiful _____________

I hope you enjoyed reading this! I can't believe it's already November and Miguel still lives rent free in my head and heart. Never thought it would be this bad tbh but I can't do anything about it anymore (I never tried to do anything about it to begin with really). Thank you for the amazing support on my writing!! It truly means a lot to me as it's something I love doing!! I hope you have a wonderful November! ❤️🍂 - Alondra

[atinyniki]

atelophobia.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!bangchan x f!reader x idol!lee felix

genre: angst, fluff

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, proposals, insecurities, crying, mentions of sex but no smut, suggestive jokes, lots of kissing, y/n is neglected

authors note: omggg my first fic for the 'making @miuracha happy' event !!! i really hope you love it <3 this fic really spoke to me because i guess... its just people being people. relationships have problems, but communication is so so important in order to keep it alive ! this has a happy ending, dw... this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1771

atelophobia - the fear of imperfection.

“baby? we’re home!”

you quickly check the time from the clock above the stove, cursing yourself for not finishing earlier and rushing to the door to greet them. “hey loves…”, you smile tiredly. they share a look before wrapping you in a hug, dirtying their clothes from the contact with your messy apron.

you relax in their warmth for a bit… its been a long day. “missed you, my baby…”, chan whispers. felix hums in agreement from your side, leaving tender kisses across your cheekbones. they finally pull away from you, and you assess the damage done to their clothes.

you don’t mean to make your frown so noticeable, but it’s inevitable. “what's wrong love?”

before you can answer, you crouch down and use your hands to dust off the rice flour from their clothes, apologizing profusely for ruining them. the truth is, recently, it’s felt like you’ve only made things worse for everyone. it’s thrown you into this bad mental state, thinking that your boyfriends deserve so much better.

“hey, it’s really not a big deal. we’re gonna wash up soon anyways, yeah?”, felix shoots you a tired smile.

you nod, standing back up and smiling sheepishly. “um… dinner will be ready soon. it should be done by the time you’re out.”

the both of them nod, making their way into the bedroom and then the bathroom. you rush back to the kitchen to check on the tteok, but you frown once you realize you must have boiled it for too long. the rice cakes look a little too mushy, but you hope that it’ll taste good in the tteokbokki.

about ten minutes later, you hear the two giggle as they walk into the living room. “gosh, i thought you’d have more stamina baby…”

he rolls his eyes playfully, placing another kiss onto chan’s lips. regularly, you’d be happy about it. it’s nice to have a loving relationship and be able to see their love progress alongside them, but the sight of them now makes your heart clench. 

it’s different now than it was a week ago. you feel undesirable, unwanted. why can’t you ever be intimate with them? why don’t they kiss you like that? the questions run through your mind at a sickening pace, and it takes everything in you not to cry.

chan turns his head to look at you, but you look away before he notices you staring. “gosh what are you making? i’m hungry as hell…”, he giggles.

“i’m sorry… it’s taking longer than i expected”, you mumble out. felix is the first to notice your uneasiness. “no y/n, i think he just meant… because it smells so good, you know? don’t apologize, there’s no need to rush, yeah?”

you nod, smiling at him and turning back to the pot of simmering tteok. only a couple minutes go by and you’ve plated all the food nicely, setting their meals down onto the kitchen table. “food’s ready!”

the boys rush to the table, smiling once they’ve seen the food. it pushes you further to your breaking point, seeing them smile so widely at the food, but never at you. you regularly don’t need constant reassurance, but right now it feels as if everything’s breaking apart in front of you.

to make things worse, they sit opposite to you around the small circular table. your body seems to be betraying you, your bottom lip slightly quivering, and you quickly bite it to hide your pain.

they each take a bite of their food, quickly eating due to their hunger. you smile at their eagerness, finding their puffy cheeks adorable, until you see their faces go red.

“oh my gosh… what did you put in this?”, chan asks incredulously. he obviously doesn’t mean it in a rude way, but it seems that way due to everything else that’s been going on.

“i- im sorry…”, you whisper.

you pour him some more water, and refill felix’s too. “it’s so fucking— augh —spicy!”, felix groans.

“i’m sorry.”, your voice gets even quieter with every apology, the tears brimming in your eyes. “i can’t even eat this…”

“i said i’m sorry!”, you yell.

and you break.

the tears brim over your lash line, now spilling over your cheeks, and the boys finally look up from their plates and at you. the way their cheeks are filled with water makes them look incredibly stupid, and yet it doesn’t make you laugh like it normally does.

instead, you cry even harder, knowing that you’ve put them in pain. you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to show how truly vulnerable you are.

“baby…”, chan gasps out. the two of them stand up, immediately rushing to your side. the burn of their tongue can’t even compare to the pain in their heart at this moment.

“my pretty girl… what’s wrong?”, felix coos at you. you shake your head, “i’m okay, i’m sorry…”

you feel chan’s breath ghost over your neck while he whispers in your ear. “can i touch you?”

you nod, and you’re immediately picked up by chan and set down onto the couch in felix’s lap. “what’s wrong, love? did we do something wrong?”

“i just… i don’t know. i guess the feelings have been there for a while now, but it’s never gotten this bad.”, you sigh out. the boys share concerned looks, only making you want to cry even more.

“i’m fine, really. i don’t need to be babie—“

“tell me what’s wrong, y/n.”

“chan i- it’s not that simple… there’s a lot.”

you hear felix sniffle from above you, and you pry your eyes open to look at him. you feel upset, yes, but nothing would prepare you for this guilt. “how long?”, he rasps out.

“what?”

“how long have you felt like this? you don’t have to keep it from us… you can tell us everything…”

“i just…”, you sigh, covering your face again. chan grabs your wrist loosely, running his lips over your knuckles. “don’t hide from us, baby, please… tell us what’s going on.”, chan begs.

“i just… i don’t feel like your girlfriend anymore… i just feel like a roommate that you occasionally kiss at this point. you and lix have been out so much more than usual and you… you never bring me anywhere. i just want to be loved… i want to cook with you guys… and i want to sit next to you while we eat. i want to be intimate with you like you are with eachother… and i know that sounds crazy… but i just feel so… out of the loop.”

��y/n… that’s not—“

“felix… please… i just- just a little love is all i ask for… hold me, hug me, spend time with me… just don’t make me feel invisible.”

“i… i’m so sorry…”, he whispers. you open your eyes to stare at chan, who’s basically bowing on the floor, looking away from you so that you can’t see the pain in his eyes. 

“there’s no reason to—“, before you can finish, he pulls you up from his lap to wrap you in a hug.

“there's a reason, y/n. you don’t deserve that from anyone… and definitely not from your boyfriends. you mean the world to us, you really do… we were just… dealing with some things.”

“then tell me felix! i don’t mind that you two love eachother of course, i want you to. i want you to be in love with eachother and care for eachother but i just want to be in the picture. so tell me… am i still in the picture?”

“you will always be in the picture, my love…”, you hear chan whisper from beside you.

you turn your head towards him, and you almost jump when you see the dark red velvet box. his head is hung low in shame, and all you can hear from felix and chan are harsh sobs.

he flicks open the box, the three gorgeous trio rings glimmering in the light. “chan i- i—“, felix interrupts you before you can even get another word out.

“we wanted to make it special for you… that’s why we were out so much… so excited and happy all the time. it’s because of you.”

your voice gets caught in your throat, your tears suddenly fading away. the weight on your heart seems to be lifted, and yet it’s like these two are acting like the entire world is falling apart.

but that’s because it is. you’re their entire world, and they’ve hurt you. “we don’t need a special proposal, y/n. we just need you… so what do you say?”

felix pushes you up closer to his back so that you can feel his heartbeat against it. “will you marry us?”

you clamp a hand around your mouth, trying your best to suppress your sobs, but you can’t. you nod frantically, unable to say any words. nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

chan slides the silver band onto your finger, leaning over to kiss away your tears. “oh baby… don’t cry…”

“i- i didn’t mean to ruin it… i’m sorry.”

“you don’t have to apologize, my love. i’m sorry for putting you through so much pain.”

chan finally makes space for himself on the couch, pulling your legs over his lap. he lightly strokes them up and down, felix threads his fingers through your hair. all of a sudden, your stomach starts rumbling, eliciting giggles from the boys.

“you hungry baby? we can go back and eat”, chan smiles.

“i’ll just make something else… it won’t be too long, i—“

“baby, listen. it doesn’t taste bad i swear… it’s just… so spicy.”

he kisses over your eyelids, trying his best to soothe you. “it’s okay…”

“hey… we love you, you know that right?”

“i love you both too…”

you hum in satisfaction at the feeling of their hands on you. even when it’s not in a sexual way, there’s something so grounding about their touch. “eat later… i missed you guys”

“awh baby… you’re so cute. i guess we can wait a bit, yeah?”, felix coos. you lean up to leave a peck in his cheek. a simple gesture, and yet it’s so innocently sweet. 

chan leans over to swipe another tear away from your cheek, and that’s when you know you’re okay. they care about you. you don’t have to be perfect for them to love you. they want you for the person you are and nothing else. 

and you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with them.

<3

[tozettastone]

Maddie & Kakuzu (& Hidan) ficlet that's not really an actual part of the series but which I wrote anyway

---

Buying an actual house changed Maddie's relationship with her father slightly.

"So... Do you want me to make one of those rooms a guest room?" she wondered, leaning heavily on the door frame as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "Like with a bed?"

Kakuzu's chakra signature hadn't woken her up when he'd arrived — whenever that had been — and neither did Hidan's much more obvious one. But once she got up, their presence did make her choose to put on pants before coming out here. But that was the sum total of her accommodations.

Her furniture included a massive claw-footed tub, a table that could seat four but for which she'd only got one chair, and a second-hand couch that absolutely did not fit all of Kakuzu's tall, broad body. Or Hidan's. Definitely not both.

"No. The couch is fine."

The couch was obviously not fine.

It wasn't so much that it was ugly and old (although it was), for Kakuzu prioritised utility over aesthetics and, because he was a shambling ragdoll monster in human skin, he had no need to baby his aging joints. Rather, the problem was that he obviously did not fit on the ugly old couch. Currently he was pinned in place upon it by Hidan's sprawled, dozing body, and both their feet were hanging far off the end.

Kakuzu also had one heavily muscled forearm thrown over his own eyes, because he was flat on his back and she hadn't bothered with curtains in the main room. When the sun came out, the light was inside.

"Uh-huh," said Maddie, heading into the kitchen area with the little pat-pat-pat of bare feet. "Can I ask a different question?"

She didn't have an electric or gas stove, but she did have a venerable black iron one. She couldn't, like, make candy or anything that required a really specific temperature, but she'd been cooking over a fire for years. It was easy to just shove some wood in and light it up with a little chakra trick — her lightning-affinity heart gave a deep thump as she coaxed a crackle of elemental chakra from her fingertips.

"Asking is free," Kakuzu said. There was an implied warning in that statement: asking was free, but answers might cost you.

The house had clean running water. She filled her kettle and put it on the stove to heat.

"Do you plan to visit often?"

There was a short silence. "No. Don't mistake anything," he added repressively, because he was a mean old bastard, "I'm here because it's convenient."

Uh-huh, she thought, turning to lean against the table and look at those dangling feet, but will it be 'convenient' often?

"Well, I plan to visit all the fucking time," said Hidan, voice thick and deep with sleep. He didn't move his face from where it was crushed into Kakuzu's chest. He could probably hear, like, a whole drum kit in there. "You went from a camp in a cursed swamp to a permanent beach house."

It really was pretty idyllic here on her little stretch of Wave, in its way: forest on one side, massive stretch of of beach on the other. She even had Barry's cutting, Barry the Second, taking root right in her back yard.

"Right. Okay." She looked around. At least the floors were stone and not wood. They'd clean well, which was a perennial consideration if Hidan visited often.

That morning, Maddie endured the spectacle of Kakuzu's tooth-grinding impatience to leave while his partner tested his temper. He loomed like a storm cloud while Hidan made his own breakfast, consumed it at an obnoxiously leisurely pace, and prayed for a solid half hour, apparently just to try everyone around him.

Then, at last, they were gone and Maddie was left in peace, sipping her tea and considering the cheapest place to get a futon for Hidan's — apparently inevitable — visits. She checked her traps and surrendered a crab to the clumsy grasping of Barry the Second, which was growing like a weed now that she was feeding it so regularly.

There was, of course, no work in town, so she didn't have any of that to do, and there was nobody (yet) to whom to rent her second property. The economy sucked and nobody wanted to move here. But the beach itself was lovely, the fresh air was nice and the local hunting was good, so Maddie was perfectly content to wait for Tazuna to get his bridge-building act together.

She did get Hidan a futon, though. It was second hand, which meant she didn't really want to contemplate what might have been soaked into it over its life. But given the kinds of fluids Hidan rolled around in, she didn't think he had any room to complain.

There wasn't any need to commit to dressing up an extensive guest room or anything, but she figured the futon just seemed prudent.

Then, of course, the following month opened with Kakuzu embarking on a mission in Mist, just across the water, and therefore fetching up on Hidan's futon — obviously, right? Maddie's house was cheaper than an inn and way more convenient than camping.

"Thought you didn't need a bed," she mused, peering into the guest room.

Kakuzu had appeared overnight without a sound, and she'd only known he was there at all because of his chakra signature. Kakuzu alone was a much quieter affair than Kakuzu and Hidan. But... she'd also left the windows unlocked.

"I don't need anything," he said flatly, without even opening his eyes. He said this less, she thought, because he didn't want to inconvenience her and more because he rejected the idea of permanence in another person's home. "But it's stupid not to use it."

"Right," said Maddie. "I'm making myself a pot of tea, and I guess if you so happen to show up near the pot, I'll pour you one."

Kakuzu cracked open one sinister green eye just to glower at her, but she closed the door to leave him to his rest.

[tokyo-terror]

GENERAL RELATIONSHIP HCS P.2 !

characters: los vaqueros + könig & horangi

alejandro vargas:

☆ very passionate about everything he does, which can make him come off as very aggressive. that being said he's a softie !!! 🙏 almost instantly when first talking to you he starts using the car scene voice when talking to you

☆ religiously tries to fold every piece of clothing in the military style, and gets upset when folding new things that won't fold properly. very strict about color mixing, so he just ends up taking any chore that has to do with laundry when he gets back from deployments

☆ takes any chance to talk about how proud he is of los vaqueros, and wants you to meet rudy when the relationship starts getting serious. has rudy drive you places when he cant, you end up paying for gas because you feel bad.

☆ big soccer fan (rudy caused this), piles soccer memorabilia onto shelves and cabinets. spends quite a bit of his time rearranging it with you, asking for opinions on if he should arrange it by years, rarity, etc. gets you jerseys :) (will not be pleased if you don't like the same soccer team as him)

rodolfo parra:

☆ definition of designated driver, nice clean car with constant familiar air fresheners that he routinely changes out. kicks alejandro out of shotgun every time he sees you, has pillows and blankets in the back for everytime you want to take a nap during a long drive

☆ certified wine drinker, has a soft spot for The White Mom (franzia sunset blush ‼️). occasionally allows himself more expensive wine if he's going out with you, will limit and pace himself throughout the night though so you can enjoy yourself

☆ not a spoon user, if he's able to grab it with a tortilla then he's doing it. accidentally burns many of them though because he leaves them on the stove too long while trying to watch you cook, he cannot cook all that well

☆ sprawler 100%, sleeps like a starfish and expects you to also sleep like a starfish or get off the bed (/hj </3). he accidentally kicked you off the bed once and wouldn't stop apologizing until a week later you elbowed him in the face while asleep, you guys keep count of the sleep fights you have (he lets you say you win)

könig:

☆ big boy, big heart 🫶 he's constantly worrying about if he's too much to handle with his anxiety. though he doesn't show it, he finds himself getting unnerved when at home without any distraction from it. ends up picking up many little hobbies with you to keep himself from spiraling

☆ uses his height to put things on the top shelves so you ask for help, denies it vehemently even though he despises certain things only you eat. only to find it on the very top cabinet, laughs when you attempt to get it before asking him

☆ long scalding showers, if his skin isn't bright red by the time he's done then he didn't shower properly (by his standards). runs naturally colder than most so he enjoys the warmth of the shower and the steam afterward. likes having you wash his hair even though it's impractical to bend himself in half for it, the hot water and fingers in his hair is bliss

☆ regularly gets prescribed muscle relaxers when he's on leave because he has muscle spasms, he usually waits till the very last second when the spasms turn from slightly painful to not being able to walk. self-medicates by you massaging the areas until they relax, complains that the medicine doesn't work as well as you do after.

kim "horangi" hong-jin:

☆ old habits die hard. he's the biggest spender out of all the boys, he's always coming home with new stuff outside of the grocery list when he convinces you to let him shop. only difference is that he can pay it now, and he finally has somebody to show the things he buys.

☆ finds anything tiger related very amusing, he ends up drawing little tigers on all loose papers. little comics of tigers with different patterns and masks are very common to find, and he will lightheartedly not be happy if you question who the tigers with little heart tails are supposed to be

☆ bad habit of leaving lights on when he leaves rooms, he always has to double check before you guys go out to see if he turned off all the lights. if he didn't then he always grabs a water bottle for you, if he remembered to turn them off then he walks back to the car patting himself on the back

☆ prefers handholding over kissing in the beginning, as he's scared that his scars will deter you away from him. as time goes on he becomes very affectionate with kissing your head or hands, though he tries to deny ever doing anything

[definitelyunhingedagentphoenix]

hey hye hey im back

(making this my second home)

grabs you by your neck

HAND OVER YOUR HANDLER HEAD CANONS OLEASE

Okay! Okay! I'll give you what you want!

Handler headcanons here we go.

So he is so soft. Like he only likes feel good movies. Romance, Disney movies, and ones with not a lot of conflict. He sees a lot of death on the job and just... Doesn't want to deal with that outside of work hours.

He does have a bit of a skewed sense of justice though. After years of working in the agency, the phrase "an eye for an eye" means something a little different. A little darker. He doesn't flinch at a gun shot, or his agents blowing things up. Enemies are more like a number on a spreadsheet rather than actual human beings.

But by God does this man care for his friends so deeply. When he found out about Roxana working for Zor, he wasn't just betrayed because it's his colleague working for his enemy. It was his family turning their back on him personally.

But he forgives just as easily.

He likes to pull pranks in the office on the good/slow days. He has been asked to stop. That's partly why REALLY cares for Agent Phoenix's antics. HE can't get away with things now that he's one of the big shots in the EOD but Phoenix can. And Phoenix DOES.

He has an immense love of animals and they love him back. They can sense his good vibes and flock to him like he's a Disney princess singing in the woods. He could literally go into the woods and see like 100 animals. He has pet a deer before. He has photo evidence. He loves to bird watch from his office.

Reginald has insanely good luck. There have been times that he disarmed a bomb completely by accident. Sometimes he swears that his good luck transfers to his agents when they're on missions. How else did Agent Phoenix manage to live all those times?

But that doesn't mean that every mission is a success. He's seen a lot over the years and goes to therapy regularly. At least as regularly as the job allows. He's in and out of the country just as often as his agents are so if he can, he'll do online therapy sessions.

He has to keep busy. He's not one to sit around and do nothing. He NEEDS to be doing something. So he has taken up just about every hobby that he can while in the office. Knitting, crochet, writing. He loves to write murder mysteries but everyone tells him it's so obvious who the killer is. He doesn't care. He writes them and leaves them in people's offices for them to read.

Anything he knits is also distributed through the EOD. He's surprisingly good at it, actually. People love getting a pair of mitts from him and scarves are fought over. They're really cute and have really cute designs on them. All of them have the EOD logo on them.

One time he knitted so many things that he decided to donate them and the shelter actually had no room for all of them.

Agent Phoenix does not admit to it ever but every time he makes them something, they keep it forever. If anything gets damaged while on a mission they lose their mind over it.

He wears Crocs unironically.

Can't cook to save his life. Has literally never turned the stove on in his house. It's there for show.

He always wanted kids but was told very young that he was unable to have kids. He thought about adopting but he was always so busy and his work was so dangerous that he never let that thought be anything more than that. A thought. Once he learns that Agent Phoenix has no family, he takes the role of father figure so seriously that he almost starts believing that he is Phoenix's biological father.

That's why it hurts him when he believes Agent Phoenix to actually be dead. He has never hurt more than the brief time after the Juniper incident when he thought Phoenix was actually gone. Nothing in his life had ever hurt that much.

[thedragonsmaug]

More of Smaug’s Batfam Headcanons

-On someone’s birthday in the Manor it is tradition to beat the stuffing out of them with pillows to wake them up. There is no escape. The only person exempt from this is Alfred.

-Driving home an unconscious Batman is one of the first lessons any Robin learns

-Bruce hates bananas with all his heart after an incident with Grodd so naturally his children delight in leaving bananas for him to find in increasingly strange places (he will never understand how his children got a banana INSIDE his tooth brush but by god they did)

-Because of keeping up with kids various interests (so he knows what they’re talking about when they go on a long winded rant about it at the breakfast table) Brucie is one of them most pop culturally aware celebs out there

-He also keeps up with memes, slang, and trends but pretends like he doesn’t cause he likes to watch his kids’ faces when he uses something outdated

-Unlike the rest of the Batfam Dick doesn’t drink coffee because it counteracts his adhd and makes him sleepy

-Bruce and Steph regularly take spa days and get mani-pedis together. Sometimes they take Cass with them too but she only likes the manicure part so she just vibes next to them for the rest

-When Alfred is sick everyone rallies around him. Bruce takes care of the kids and any medicine Alfred needs while Jason cooks and the other kids clean.

-Bruce is fantastic at cooking over an open fire but somehow every attempt to cook at a stove only ends in disaster

-Jason was taught to cook by Alfred and he might actually be better than Alfred by the smallest margin (no one will ever say this out loud)

-Glitter of any kind has been permanently banned from the Manor since Dick was a child. When questioned neither he nor Bruce will say what he did, Alfred only sighs and looks to ceiling.

-The list of things not permitted on the Manor grounds is hung on the fridge and only Alfred is allowed to write on it

-They have a huge whiteboard family calendar in the kitchen to help keep track of everyone’s schedule. Everyone has their own specific color of marker. Colors are chosen by each person upon entering the family. Colors cannot be changed as it would confuse Bruce, which is mostly who the board is for

-There is always some of his kids’ stuff in Bruce’s room because they all prance through it as easily as their own rooms. He’ll never tell them to stop because it warms his heart that they see him as safe enough to do so

[mischiefmanaged71]

In this moment (3/?)

Summary: A single moment can spark a magnificent change in a person’s life.

A/N: Peaky Blinders AU, Ewan Mitchell OC x fem!reader

To say Y/N felt tense at the prospect of someone staying in her flat would be an underestimation. She felt on edge at the prospect of Will, the handsome bodyguard that had her acting in an absurd manner moving into her flat.

Will would join her tonight and then her downfall would begin. She suddenly became aware of his presence behind every corner. His steps wandering around his bedroom. The scent of coffee and smoke, although he always minded to open the window when he did. He was neat, keeping most of his clothes in his room, save for a jacket thrown over the chair or his coat the doorway which reminded her of the man staying in her space. Will also enjoyed tinkering, always fiddling with something in his hand, whether it be his watch or the switch-blade he kept hidden beneath his waistband.

One afternoon she had wandered over to his room, a clean towel in hand when she noticed his door ajar. Her mouth fell agape, eyes widening at the sight of a shirtless back that she almost dropped everything in her grip. She thought her heart would burst from her chest, glossing over the state unbeknownst to Will until he turned around and caught her gaze through the door.

Y/N quickly closed her mouth, regaining her composure as she, "I-I wanted to ask if you needed anything?"

"I'm alright.” he assured her.

"Right." She nodded, averting her eyes from his chest.

Will caught the flush of her cheeks as she avoided his stare and made her exit. He wandered into the doorway, leaning against the wall with a smile tugging at his lips at her flustered state.

That moment was the first of many encounters that reminded her of why she attested Tommy and Arthur's authority.

***

The crackle of the radio sounded in the background, lulling the many thoughts of work from Y/N’s mind as she waited for the coffee to brew on the stove. The early hours of the morning were quiet as she moved around the flat. With the addition of Will, however, there had been a change of pace in the flat. 

The place was subtly different in a way with the addition of his presence in different rooms. The coat on the hanger in the doorway, the scent of his remaining cologne on the sofa cushions, along with the ash tray by the window where he regularly sat in his thoughts. 

She poured a cup of coffee for him. Black, of course, leaving it on the bench top. Every morning he would accept it with a grateful smile, ever subtle, each time. No matter, the gentle look always managed to stir something in her stomach as she distracted herself.

Y/N reached for the mug on the top shelf, leaning onto the tops of her toes when an arm brushed her’s, grasping the mug. She gasped lightly, glancing at Will’s body brushing against her own, his hand offering it up. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she worked, pouring the hot liquid into the mugs. When she turned, her mouth open and closed as their eyes met. The breath trapped in her throat at the proximity of their faces as she exhaled. The intensity of the stare gracing her face was what halted her movement as she froze.

He broke the silence first, sipping from the mug without breaking contact “Have you always lived here?”

She blinked, “No. I grew up in a flat near the Shelby’s original residence. Moved here when I could afford it. I suppose with your job, you’re always moving around?”

Will nodded, “I go where the work takes me.”

“How long do you stay in one place?”

“Depends on the contract. Some last a few weeks, months. Longest job was eight months.”

She sent him a sympathetic look, “That must be difficult. Never staying in one place too long.”

“Well, let’s hope this one sticks. I have a good feeling.” he surmised, the slight upturn of his lips.

She mustered a response, “No complaints, so far. I suppose that’s good for you.” somewhat unsure where the teasing remark came from.

“My last job wasn’t entirely as nice as this.” he said.

“In what way?”

“Well, for one thing...” he placed the mug down, leaning against the benchtop, “My previous clients weren’t nearly as...charming.”

She refused to let him see her flustered state, hiding the smile behind her mug, “Oh.”

A soft chuckle left his mouth, “Do you always get this flustered?”

Oh.

“What?” she softly asked, eyes widened. 

“Just asking.” he breathed. She traced his muscles as he folded his arms across his chest. "Your hands are shaking."

She placed them still at her side. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He didn’t need to step any closer to notice the tells. The wavering gaze, the dilated pupils. The pause each time his hand brushed her own, or he stood close enough to register the sharp intake of breath. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” his stepped closer, leaving a gap between them.

She huffed, shaking her head slightly in defiance, “I-what does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re standing...close.” she exhaled, meeting his gaze in a show of correcting his statement. Although, she wasn’t too sure if that worked in her favour as Y/N found herself absorbed in his blue eyes again. 

His eyes flickered to her lips and back. She felt her breath hitch at his hand ghosting over her’s. Will was reading her reaction tentatively, studying her. 

“What’re you doing?” she whispered.

He hummed, “Just seeing something.”

Her lips parted, breath becoming difficult to grasp with his close proximity as her eyelids fluttered. Will tilted his head, his fingers brushing her arm as he blinked, nodding ever so slightly.

“Right.” Will raised his eyebrows. He would play into her wishes, wavering the notion for now, “We best be going.”

She exhaled as he left the kitchen counter, leaving to grab his coat. Her eyes fell shut as she exhaled deeply. Her hands shook as she gripped her bag. It was only a matter of how far her limits could be tested before something actually happened.

***

“I fear I may drop from a heart attack tomorrow.” she spoke into the phone, gripping the receiver in hand as she laid on her bed. 

“You just need to breathe. These feelings, whatever they are, will simmer. It’ll pass.”

“You don’t understand, Ada. I’m stumbling through sentences. My hands shake. I fear my heart will...burst out of my chest. I didn’t think someone could actually be so beautiful...and when he looks at me. His eyes are so blue.” she sighed in a breath.

Ada hummed, “Seems to me things are moving fast.”

The woman groaned, dropping onto the pillow again “What am I gonna do? I can’t breathe around the man.”

“How bad is it, really? You’re spending an awful lot of time with an attractive man devoted to protect you. Where is the issue?” she asked, 

Y/N bit her lip, “He’s always got this knowing look and that smirk-” she paused, a sigh leaving her mouth “I’m terrible at hiding my emotions, Ada. I don’t know...”

“You could talk to Tommy or Arthur about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “No. That would make things exponentially worse. Besides-he’s good at his job. I wouldn’t want to get him fired.”

“Do go on.” Ada drawled.

“He’s...” she trailed off, eyes wandering the ceiling, “attentive...kind. He always seems to anticipate what I need. And he does make me feel safe.”

Silence rang on both sides as Y/N breathed, the words ringing through her mind.

“Sounds to me that you’ve got no problem there. What is the worst that could happen?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” she replied, pushing her hair back, “I’ll talk to you soon. Give my love to Karl.”

“Love you, Y/N.”

She hung up the receiver, sighing as she closed her eyes. Y/N moved off the bed, wandering to her door to the kitchen. To her surprise, Will wandered from his door at the same time. She scanned the fitted white shirt he wore, along with the casual trousers as it was the later hours of evening settled. She froze in the doorway, meeting his gaze and the smirk that laid there as he stepped toward her. 

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi.” he smiled, leaning against the doorway “Who was that?”

“Oh-it was Ada. Just catchin’ up.”

He nodded, “Right. How is she?”

“Good.” she averted her eyes, nodding, “Yeah. Busy with Karl and work.”

“Nothing else?” he asked.

“No. Not really.” she moved to step around when his arm leaned against the doorway, halting her movement.

Will's lips were pursed as he studied her face, "You sure about that?"

"Yes." She breathed.

His warm breath brushed her cheek. He hummed, “The walls are actually thinner than you think.”

TAGS

Y/N felt her face grow warm as her stomach dropped at the comment. She froze up, meeting his gaze and words escaped her entirely. He simply smirked at her before departing downstairs, leaving her with many thoughts of what could’ve been as she retreated to her room. Her head banged against the door tirelessly.

"Fuckin' hell."

@pearlstiare @dothrckis @aemonds-sapphire @xcharlottemikaelsonx @filipinamultifandom ​ @padfooteyes @batsyforyou @yentroucnagol @cl-0-vr @viviartsy @h3k3t @arcana-greenleaf  @yummycastiel @lauraneedstochill @sasikanleesworld @theliterarybeldam @actualhawkesworld @ohitsthemaster

[aggro-my-beloved]

HAI RACH<333 CONGRATS ON THE 50 EEEK YOU DESERVE IT!!

🪻 + 📔 guy? :3

HI HI :D thank you so much ajax you’re so kind! you’re profile pic and banner is quite the enigma but I think I’ve figured you out. also there’s no letter for guy for me to write about so I just chose the letter u :) hope you like it!

I think you still watch the same cartoons you grew up watching regularly for nostalgia or out of boredom, I predict you’ll be doing the same ten years from now. I think you may also be lactose intolerant, but will throw hands for a grilled cheese fresh off the stove :)

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

U → I think guy is the WORST when it comes to forgetting where he left off on doing something. He’ll set a pile of clothes down on a chair to fold, then get distracted from a phone call from Honey, then get hungry and dig around for something to eat, THEN go to find something to watch while he eats—

long story short, the laundry ain’t gettin folded for at least three to four business days. he’s no better with leaving dirty dishes in his room. It isn’t until he’s lounging on the couch watching tv and hears Honey’s cry from the kitchen:

“Guy, where are all the cups?”

and he’ll emerge from the bedroom minutes later balancing eight cups in his hand to be washed with a sheepish smile.

join the sleepover!

[justforbooks]

Unleashed by Boris Johnson

All the fancy verbiage in the world cannot disguise the emptiness at the heart of this self-serving, solipsistic book

Written once their authors have lost power, most prime ministerial memoirs try at some level to be reflective. David Cameron’s begins by confessing that he still has daily anxieties about having called the Brexit referendum. John Major’s starts even more disarmingly, by wondering why he went into politics at all.

But Boris Johnson does not do reflective. He never has and he never will. And nor does his new memoir, with its unnerving title, Unleashed. It covers his time as London mayor, Brexit campaigner, foreign secretary and prime minister. But if it is heart-searching and confessions you seek from the pen of Britain’s most iconoclastic prime minister, you can stop now.

This is not “the political memoir of the century” as the Daily Mail has been billing it for the past week. Or, if it is, an unrewarding 76 years lie ahead for the publishing industry. Take this passage from the section describing how Johnson felt in April 2020 when he had to be transferred from Downing Street to St Thomas’ hospital suffering from Covid:

It wasn’t just the physical distress; it was the guilt, the political embarrassment of it all. I needed to be bee-oing-oing back on my feet like an india rubber ball. I needed to be out there, leading the country from the front, sorting the PPE, fixing the care homes, driving the quest for a cure.

There’s a lot worth parsing there. And plenty that is characteristic of Johnson’s writing more generally. There’s the rubber ball image and the exuberant vocabulary. But then there’s also the sheer dishonesty and the lies. In reality, Johnson was a chronically indecisive prime minister, emphatically not one who led from the front. The PPE wasn’t being sorted at all, either, nor the care homes fixed. His solipsistic admission that he thought going into hospital was an embarrassing look for a leader shows where his instinctive priorities lay.

Then there are the political omissions. Johnson records Prof Chris Whitty, the chief medical officer for England, warning – rightly – at the outset of the pandemic that the public would expect the government to act, to make rules and to enforce them. Yet listen to the Covid inquiry, and the evidence of what things were really like at the heart of Johnson’s government in 2020 is jaw-dropping. “I’ve never seen a bunch of people less well equipped to run a country,” said the cabinet secretary, Simon Case, in a WhatsApp message.

Johnson’s book gives his version of the big episodes. But it dodges the larger issues they raise. The description of what he calls “the whole Partygate hoo-ha” is typical. It is full of angry self-righteousness. But his conclusion that he should not have apologised so much over Partygate is strikingly tin-eared. Though Johnson likes to parade the outward signs of his intellect, there is not a philosophical sentence in the entire book.

Yes, he often dresses up his memoir in amusingly image-rich and alliterative language. Donald Trump is “like an orange-hued dirigible exuberantly buoyed aloft by the inexhaustible Primus stove of his own ego”, for example. Kate Bingham did Covid vaccine deals “like a slightly tipsy billionaire at the Grand National”. Oliver Letwin is “the Professor Branestawm of British politics”.

And, yes, he regularly uses a cascade of words when a single one would do. “I wanted to create ladders, springboards, trampolines, catapults – anything to help kids with energy and talent,” he writes on his levelling up policy.

The freewheeling nature of the memoir is entertaining but becomes irritating for its lack of structure. You will search long and hard to find any other political memoirist who could reflect, after Cameron threatens to “fuck you up for ever” if Johnson opts to back leave in the Brexit campaign: “Did I want to be fucked up? For ever? By a prime minister equipped with all the fucking-up tools available to a modern government, and thousands of fucker-uppers just waiting to do his bidding?”

It is important to remember, though, that this has always been Johnson’s way. He uses his wit, appearance and persona to deflect from serious matters and to advance his own cause. His language is a form of collusion with his audience to stand apart from the tough business of governing. As Ed Docx observed in 2021 in these pages, Johnson has perfected the role of the clown king, whose speech is “not – in truth – eloquent, but rather the caricature of eloquence”. It is the same with this memoir.

That is not to deny that some of his anecdotes are striking. Johnson really does seem to have seriously contemplated a ludicrous armed raid on the Netherlands in order to bring millions of AstraZeneca vaccine doses to Britain. He did almost drown on holiday in Scotland in summer 2020 because he was determined to sit out at sea in an inflatable kayak to avoid the Highland midges. And he comes super-close to implying that Benjamin Netanyahu personally planted a listening device in his private departmental bathroom when Johnson was foreign secretary.

Just occasionally, there is an almost casually delivered shaft of self-knowledge. “I am afraid, looking back, that I allowed the wish to be the father to the thought,” he writes. He is talking about Northern Ireland policy at this point, but the insight applies to much else in Johnson’s career, including Brexit, levelling up and his ability to govern. It probably describes his chances of a return to power too.

Perhaps this overhyped book is the only memoir of which Johnson is capable. He is not going to change. Anyone wanting more about his time at the top will gain greater insight from a few pages of Anthony Seldon and Raymond Newell’s Johnson at 10 than they will from Unleashed’s more than 700 pages. Unleashed to do what? We never learn – and even he may not really know either.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[tinkabelle24]

To Build a Home

Chapter 3: Conflicted

TW! No trigger warnings.

Masterlist / Chapter 2

---

(One month later...)

"I wish you'd have let us take you out for your birthday," Molly whined as she poured each of her and Val another glass of rosé. "That way you can just sit there, eat food, get drunk, and not have to worry about clean-up afterward."

Val snatched her glass away to suck up the rogue bubbles before they spilt out. "But I like cooking," she countered. "And I promised to treat you guys once I got settled in, remember?"

"She did say that." Molly's boyfriend, Andrew, called from the bathroom. Val shot her friend a triumphant smirk as she took a proper sip.

"Not on her birthday, though," Molly argued. "And for God's sake, don't stink up her new apartment!"

Molly had the typical ‘goth girl’ look: dark clothes, dark hair, dark makeup, dark everything. Contrary to her ‘intimidating’ appearance, she was an incredibly bubbly and outspoken person, with a penchant for risqué jokes; a trait she and Val shared.

She's also an amazing artist – she'd have to be, considering she tattoos for a living. She proudly exhibits her intricately detailed watercolour art all over her body, head to toe.

She and Molly met when the former moved to Brooklyn from Philadelphia and started attending the latter’s high school.

Growing up the way she did, Val did – and unfortunately still does – agonise over what others genuinely think of her. She kept to herself the first few weeks of school, until Molly caught her leaving the counsellor's office in tears one day.

Molly's the most honest person Val's ever met. Molly tells it the way she sees it, while also being considerate of other’s feelings. Val's never needed to worry about what her best friend thought of her, which was a breath of fresh air for her.

Meanwhile, she'd been lying to her face.

"Mol," Val insisted, reaching over the counter to give her hand a gentle squeeze. "Chill, alright? It's all good. I wanted to show you what I've done to the place, anyway."

They had time; they were just waiting on the curry that was still simmering away on the stove. Val proceeded directing her friend's attention to the now crisp, white, tobacco- stain-free walls.

She'd dedicated almost an entire day scraping off the excess tobacco, then scrubbing away whatever was left with sugar soap and water, and a shit-tonne of elbow grease. Her body ached for days afterwards.

The apartment clearly hadn't been thoroughly cleaned in a long time. There was dust, mould and grime everywhere. She realised she could've compelled her landlord to fulfil their obligations, but she ultimately decided it'd be a good distraction for her. So, she did it all herself.

Molly gave her an earfull about being a pushover, but she simply didn't have the headspace at the time to deal with more drama.

"It looks awesome, Val," Molly complimented. "And it smells so much better, too!"

"Just so you know, Val, I noticed the difference as soon as I walked through the door." The women turned to find Andrew had finally finished up in the bathroom; he was courteous enough to have shut the door.

Molly scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. "Brown-noser."

Molly and Andrew met at the former's workplace; he wanted a sleeve done in memory of his late grandfather, so they had plenty of time to develop a good rapport. For months, she would not shut up about her cute client with the adorable accent. When the job was finally complete, she asked him out. They've been going strong for nearly four years now.

Andrew was a tall, scruffy-looking man with a kind face, dark eyes, and dark hair. He didn't have nearly as many tattoos as his girlfriend, but he boasted a few on his arms and chest. Andrew works as an electrician – sorry, a ‘sparky’ (he relocated here from Sydney, Australia) - and works long hours, but he always appeared to have something to smile about.

He may be a little oblivious at times, curses like a sailor, and regularly blurts out lingo that makes zero sense (like ‘grouse’, ‘hoon’, and ‘dole-bludger’), but he treats Molly well and she him, so Val was happy for them.

“We’ll bring over some WD-40 next time,” Andrew declared, jabbing a thumb behind him toward the bathroom door. “Your hinges are squeaky as fuck.”

Val shot him a mischievous grin, “like your bed?”

Molly spat her drink.

The trio spent the last few minutes chatting about the layout of the apartment. Andrew kept going on about how he could help ‘maximise the space’ with hooks and shelves; Val had to remind him that she was merely a tenant, unlike them. Lucky bastards...

“You can just use some of those Command Hooks,” Andrew countered. “Or one of those thingies that hang over the door.”

“She’ll figure it out, babe,” Molly assured him with a nudge.

Dinner was finally ready. Val served the curry with rice and the rest of the sad storebought cilantro she failed to regrow in her rooftop planter box. She'd devoted quite a bit of time up there recently, trying to replace the negative memories with positive ones...

...And to keep an eye out for any sign of the mysterious turtle men.

She had reservations about utilising the business card Mikey gave her; she didn't want to just insert herself into their lives without their consent.

Mikey was keen, but that didn't change the fact that the others seemed less than enthused by her involvement. She could be wrong, but she didn't want to assume otherwise and inadvertently make things worse.

When she could finally read said card, she found it was to a local antique dealership called Second Time Around, run by April O'neil – the woman Mikey mentioned. She did some sleuthing and discovered the shop was about a ten-minute detour from the café to her apartment. So, like a creepy stalker, she stopped by on her way home from her shift one day.

Val was warmly greeted by a ginger-haired, green-eyed woman she later identified as April (by her name tag). They didn't converse much, as she needed to process payment for another customer, but Val often found her glancing her way.

Could she have known who I was?

“Val?” Molly’s voice snapped Val out of her thoughts. She looked up from her plate. “I said – how’s your hand?”

“Oh, yeah, much better,” the brunette answered quickly, straightening up in her seat. She showed her best friend her now uninjured hand, finally free of the Godawful splint.

She kept the true cause of her broken fingers a secret, instead blaming it on a misadventure in the kitchen.

Her story was that while she was using a chair to reach the highest shelf, she lost her balance and erroneously used her hands to break her fall. Molly did not seem entirely convinced but didn't question it. Val could not blame her, considering every other sketchy thing she'd been up to.

As promised, Val also didn't disclose to anyone about her encounters with the turtles. If they indeed had enemies, she wanted to avoid drawing attention to them or herself.

She did think of them often, though, especially of Raph, and how he was doing. It had been a month. Hopefully, he'd recovered by now. Did he remember anything from that night? Did he remember her?

“And your mom?”

“She sent me a happy birthday, darling text earlier today, along with a quote about blood being thicker than water...” Val scoffed softy as she took another sip from her glass. “But other than that, nothing. Liv says she has a new boyfriend.”

Her best friend grimaced. “Really?” She groaned. Val simply shrugged; she was used to men floating in and out of her and her sibling’s lives.

Speaking of her siblings...

“Liv got suspended from school the other day.”

“What for??”

“Noah told me she punched a boy in the face.”

Molly's eyes darn near burst from their sockets. “What the fuck?!”

Val nodded. What the fuck, indeed.

“Did she tell you why?”

“She said he’d been giving her grief about her weight for weeks, calling her all sorts of names. The school knows, apparently, but won’t do anything.”

Val has always been more concerned about her sister over her brother. Olivia was old enough to remember her dad - Val’s ex(?) stepfather (she wasn't sure what title to give him; he and mom weren't together, but never divorced) - before he was no longer in her life, but Noah was only little – two, maybe? Val couldn't remember; he was absent for most of her brother’s short life.

Despite this guy's many, many (to put it politely) misgivings, Olivia still thought the sun shone out of his ass. She truly was a daddy’s girl, and she was heartbroken when mom abruptly packed them up and left town.

Olivia always had a difficult time with her temper, like her dad. No matter the severity, any and every inconvenience or slight would bring forth an eruption of emotions that would often take hours to fizzle out. Her paediatrician suspects she's neurodivergent, but nothing's been formalized as of yet.

It's exhausting for her little sister. She often resorts to emotional eating to cope with everything, which has only compounded the problem. Now, she's being bullied for both her short-fuse and her weight. She is only thirteen, for God’s sake...

“Shit’s fucked,” Andrew mused, shaking his head.

“I’m gonna call the school and see what I can do from my end,” Val sighed. “This needed to be nipped in the bud, like, yesterday.”

The trio finished their dinner and a few more drinks, then Molly and Andrew helped with the dishes while Val cleared the table. She lit the new candle the couple gifted her, chuckling at the quote plastered on the front of it:

'My Last Fuck: Oh, Look! It’s on Fire'.

She carefully placed it in the centre of the table.

“You like it, then?” Molly asked as she shut the refrigerator door.

“It’s awesome. I love it, thank you.”

Her friends left shortly after, leaving nothing left for Val to do than shower, drink the leftover wine, then go to bed. Sleep was recommended as she had to work early in the morning, but she didn't want to sleep - she wanted to drag her fold-out chair up onto the roof and wait. For him.

No, Valerie. Stop it.

It’s time for bed. Go.

As Val opened the refrigerator to refill her glass, she discovered an unopened block of her favourite dark chocolate on the top shelf. No way, this can’t be. She sent a quick text to Molly.

[I love you.]

[Enjoy! Xx]

The brunette emptied the bottle into her glass, snapped off a row (or two, or three...) of chocolate, then headed for the shower.

Dressed in her mismatched chequered pink pyjama pants and oversized black Metallica shirt, Val finally exited the bathroom to wash and put away her glass. However, something caught her eye, and she stopped dead in her tracks, almost dropping her glass.

A yellow post-it note had been stuck to her window, from the outside.

Setting her glass aside, she rushed toward the window. The scribbled note read: Look down. Her gaze snapped toward the floor of her fire escape and, sure enough, there was something there. A parcel. A red parcel. She pushed the window open, reached out and snatched it.

The parcel felt soft, like wool. As she unravelled it, she quickly realised she was holding a scarf. A brand-new, handmade scarf. She gently traced the braided detail with her fingertips. It was beautiful.

As she unravelled it, a hard thud caused her to yelp in surprise. She looked down – a pocketknife? Then she realised: all the items she'd lost that night had been returned to her.

Holy shit.

---

Raph and Mikey cased the building earlier that night, at the beginning of patrol, to ensure they had the correct window.

They finally located Val’s apartment on the top floor, high enough for them to sit and observe from the building across the street. She was not alone at that moment; she had friends over, and they were laughing over drinks.

It took Raph longer than anticipated to identify her, as she looked and behaved differently to when they last met.

Good different.

Her hair was longer, long enough now to be twisted into a loose updo. Every item of clothing, save for the slightly loose floral blouse, was form-hugging, accentuating the curves that were previously hidden beneath oversized clothing, or obscured by darkness. Moreover, she carried herself less like a scared child and more like a confident young woman. She seemed happier and healthier this time around. It was nice to see.

When they circled back, it appeared she was now alone. Her hair had been let down, and she'd changed into something a little more familiar. They watched as she carefully inspected the scarf, at which point Mikey attempted teasing his older brother for having such a ‘dainty' skill. But the red-banded terrapin was too anxious to respond.

His gaze was fixed on her reaction to his handiwork. He'd spent the better part of a month on it whilst bedridden. The project provided him a much-needed challenge for his insanely bored brain, and gentle exercise for his underutilized muscles. He hoped she liked it, because he couldn't bring himself to return her old one, which had been stained and stretched to buggery.

"Oof," Mikey winced when she dropped the pocketknife, that had been hidden inside the scarf. "I hope that wasn't her foot."

"She's alright, I think..." Raph replied distractedly, assuming she'd simply kneel and pick it up. But she didn't. She just stared down. Then, after what felt like forever, her head snapped toward the window, and he had to remind himself that she couldn't see them.

He felt sick.

"You should go say hi-"

"No."

"No??" Mikey spluttered. "Why not?"

"Cos I can't."

"I didn't realise that word was in your vocabulary."

The red-banded terrapin stared at him incredulously. "Don't act like we haven't literally just come outta lockdown."

It was all over the news:

'slain store owner discovered by employee; second man found dead in nearby alleyway. Local gang involvement considered.'

As Raph managed to let that other Purple Motherfucker get away, the pests were out for blood. To avoid drawing any more attention to themselves, the Turtles were forced to lay low for a while, until the excitement wore off.

Whenever any of them complained about feeling stir-crazy, or expressed concern for April, Casey, and their son, Leo was more than happy to remind them of who was responsible for their situation.

“Ask Raph,” he'd sneer. “I’m also curious to know what his thought process was.”

Aside from these snarky remarks, the eldest brothers barely acknowledged or spoke to one another.

"I'm not," Mikey argued. "I'm just saying that you guys obviously need to talk, and you're throwing away this golden opportunity."

Raph let out an exasperated sigh. He understood what his younger brother was saying but, unfortunately, this situation was more complicated than that.

Yes, he wanted to see her, but he also felt she'd been through enough already. He didn't know what led her to that rooftop that night but, whatever it was, she absolutely didn't need any more of his own drama mixed in with it.

"Wait!" Mikey exclaimed, with an elbow to the plastron so sharp it just about knocked the wind out of his brother. "She's leaving-"

"Will ya stop!" Raph shoved him away. "I ain't blind. I can see what you're seein'."

Val had indeed left her apartment, leaving her door wide open in the process. The brothers watched as she burst onto the roof, eyes darting in every direction to find them. Raph steeled himself.

"Dude, she clearly wants to see you," Mikey argued. Raph kept his eyes forward, silent. After a minute of being ignored, the youngest brother finally snapped. "What are you afraid of?"

That struck a nerve. Raph finally turned on his brother. "I ain't afraid," he protested, but the delivery was so pathetic even he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"Bullshit." The youngest brother drew closer, baby blues narrowed in suspicion. "You're hiding something," he accused. "What is it? ... Have you met her before?"

Silence.

"What happened?"

"I can't tell ya."

"Can't, or won't?"

"Both."

"Why?"

"Not my business."

"That makes no sense."

"Look, Mikey," Raph sighed. "All ya need to know is that she doesn't need us in her life. My only goal here is to return her stuff, then leave. I don't wanna see her. I don't wanna get to know her. Alright?"

Mikey scoffed softly, shaking his head. "Be like that, then." The orange-banded terrapin stole one last glance across the street before, to Raph's surprise, getting up and leaving.

"What the hell, Mikey?! ... Mikey!"

"I'm not about to sit here and watch that. Let me know when you're done." With that, Mikey disappeared over the ledge, leaving Raph alone.

---

C'mon...

Val had scoured the skyline what seemed like a hundred times now and... nothing. Not a single fucking soul.

She hoped she was wrong, but she couldn't help but wonder whether this was his way of saying he wanted nothing else to do with her. It hurt something fierce, but she was going to have to be okay with it. She had no other choice.

The brunette sighed, disheartened. She could't stay out here much longer. Stupidly, she left without any warm gear. No jacket, no socks, no shoes...

The icy wind had been whipping at her damp skin and hair for several minutes now, and she could no longer feel her face. She'd wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to retain what body heat she had left, but it was no use. She was freezing.

Forced to admit defeat, Val trudged back downstairs to her apartment.

Little did she know there was someone waiting for her...

---

Masterlist / Chapter 4

[huguswerescared]

Ages and Lil' facts about this blog's Au and it's characters.

Puppets:

Yellow

He's somewhere between 14 to 16 in this au (I know some people dislike having him be a child or in this case a teen but there's a reason for this.)

He may or may not have mild autism (?)

His eyes are a dark green but turn to a neon lime-ish color when his batteries are changed.

He can't exactly remember his death, all he remembers are smells, brief moments and someone yelling for him to get out of the way.

He likes drawing and sometimes paints with Paige (Sketchbook) although he avoids the color green.

He's not allowed to use the stove after he and Paige nearly set the kitchen on fire.

He's allowed to help out though.

He sees Red as a father figure while he sees Duck as more of a uncle, dad and grandpa mashup abomination.

He's well-liked by most of the teachers.

His room is painted dark green and he has those glow in the dark stars glued to his ceiling.

Red

Somewhere between 25-27 in this au.

He cut his hair once and it grew back within 24 hours.

Yellow gifted him a apron that says 'Don't make me poison you' in cursive letters, he was mildly concerned about it but he wears it every time he cooks.

The main dad of the group

Red likes puzzles.

Since I'm pretty sure he's naked all the time in Canon, in this au he wears red hoodies and sweatpants if he isn't in denim or something else.

See's Yellow as a son and a little brother combo and sees Duck as a housemate (but later on as his best friend)

All he remembers about his death is that he drowned and that he was on a family trip.

His room is painted a grayish blue.

Duck

27 - 31 in the au.

He used to be a Staff Sergeant in the air force before his death.

He collects magnets.

He prefers not to cook and leaves that up to Red and the teachers.

Sees Red as his best friend and his opinion on Yellow changes.

He unironically has some cannibalistic tendencies.

He has little to no memory of his death.

His room is forest green and he has a bunch of military themed things in his room.

Simon (Written and created by @neemsstuff aka my beloved best friend!)

Dude died via cult sacrifice (Not the love cult)

He's like a cat, he gives the people he likes dead stuff.

His favorite color is purple.

He’s sensitive to people bringing up his disabilities, often becoming irritated or just dismissive.

He is territorial towards his close friends and “family”, not allowing strangers to even come near them.

He is autistic and has a lot of cat related vocal stims, especially purring and meowing at people :3

He is the only puppet to know his name.

Teachers:

He also has a problem with trying to eat everything and some of the teachers.

He met Lesley once while he was going to make coffee and she was stealing coffee in the middle of the night, he's terrified of her.

Sketchbook/Notebook (Paige)

Her bedroom is splattered in different paint colors she regularly draws on her walls.

She has a humanoid form and a puppet form, why you ask? Because I can draw it.

She doesn't have much control over what she does in her song other then the lyrics and being creative.

Her favorite one of the trio is yellow she thinks he has artistic talent.

Gets along well with almost all of her fellow teachers.

Unlike most of the others her death was a slow and mostly painless death by carbon monoxide poisoning in her home along with her S/o.

She remembers bits and pieces of her death and life, the teachers remember a bit more then the puppets.

Tony the talking Clock

His room is filled with clocks and other steampunk themed things.

Like Paige he too has a human and a puppet form, he hates both of them.

He had more control in his song minus the whole rotting the trio thing.

He has a questionable amount of bowties.

He gets along with most of the other teachers.

He remembers the day of his death in full detail.

He died of carbon monoxide poisoning in his home with his S/O (not so subtlety hinting).

Colin the computer

He hates freelancers.

He enjoys helping in the kitchen.

He will murder you if you like NFTS.

He died via electrical shock.

He has zero memory of dying.

He has a humanoid form, he looks like a nerd.

He just chills out on the desk and his room is in his digital world, it's very glitchy.

Him and Electracy are have sibling vibes.

He likes to pull pranks on literally everyone no one is spared, he is scared of Tony though and Duck, Duck bites.

Electracy

She sleeps in the electoral box.

She died by getting electrocuted while on the job.

She also has zero memory of dying.

Her and Colin died on the same day in different places.

She likes playing Pokemon.

She likes roller skating.

She like the others have a humanoid form less nerdy then Colin.

She does NOT LIKE COOKINg.

Ti (My oc!)

Her full name is Ativan but she prefers being called Ti.

If you refuse to sleep she will go feral and hold a pillow over your face until you pass out.

Her hat is basically her hair, she can cut it and it grows.

She vaguely remembers her death.

She doesn't really understand that she's dead, she just remembers being taller.

She has a whole cabinet of whatever dead stuff Simon gives her, it smells terrible.

She used to be a sleep therapist before she died.

She died from exhaustion, like she dropped dead.

She uses Simon as transportation.

SHE HATES SHRIGNOLD.

She rarely sleeps so she makes sure her 'friends' get the sleep she can't.

Shrignold

He and his cult live right behind the house.

He tries to set everyone up in a romantic setting.

Is he dead? Did he die, is his cult dead? Mass cult suicide?

He avoids Simon like the plague after he nearly bit off his wing.

He still tries to get yellow to join his cult, Red smacks him with a broom every time he comes near him while duck starts yelling about disrespect and Simon just tries to CHOMP down on his wings.

He stole a key so now he can enter the house whenever he can.

He's homophobic but everyone likes him better then Warren.

He recruited Warren into his cult.

Everyone tolerates him and prefers the homophobic cult leader to Warren.

Unemployed Brendon

He published a novel.

He writes murder mystery, mystery, thriller and romance novels!

He died young.

He accidentally overdosed.

He's the older one!

He likes to draw with Yellow.

He has a bear shaped kids plate.

Briefcase

He's the unemployed one but he doesn't know that.

He died on his first day to work.

Also died tragically young but not as young as his brother.

Him and his brother know their dead but don't mention it.

I project my siblings issues into them

Him and his brother have sibling bonding days where they watch movies.

Roy and Lesley

They're married.

Sometimes happily sometimes not.

Roy does drugs like a lot of them.

The drugs don't work neither does the alcohol.

Are they both dead (?)

Sometimes they're affectionate to Yellow.

And the rest of the time they're not.

Lesley is more affectionate then Roy.

Roy knows that's not fully his son.

his son is dead

Lesley worked on children cartoons while Roy was a free lancer.

Red and Duck DO NOT LIKE ROY they don't know about Lesley.

Roy does not like Simon, Simon likes him though.

He has kicked Simon, Lesley thinks their 'friendship' is hilarious.

Lesley makes stuffed toys in her spare time.

Roy burned down the old house not because of the dead bird or yellow it was to get them into THAT house.

Lesley and Roy live in the upper rooms, they have a kitchen, bathroom and the like.

Roy likes roast beef.

Bonus facts:

Lesley likes tea and coffee.

Lesley likes to steal coffee at midnight when the teachers and puppets are asleep.

They all live in the same house.

Are they in purgatory?

Please send asks this blog thrives on em'

Mostly everyone is platonic, there are a few romantic pairings.

Found family.

Yellow's name is David I don't care if that's not technically confirmed it's his name here.

The group from the jobs episode is also dead, I wonder if they'll appear here?

Warren slander if on the rare occasion someone asks for him, he will be bullied by me making the other characters bully him, I do not like him.

Alrighty thank you for reading!

[your-interpol-agent]

Do you think you could find anything on how Rasputin‘s children died? He had seven, three of whom (Dmitry, Maria, Varvara) survived to adulthood. They have causes of death listed, but their siblings who presumably died in childhood (Mikhail, Georgiy, Anna, Praskovya) do not.

What we DO know:

Rasputin got married with a woman named Praskovya Fyodorovna and had seven children.

Mikhail Rasputin, born in 1889, who died the same year.

Anna Rasputina, commonly misconceived as Georgiy's twin sister, was born on January 29th, 1892, died May 3rd, 1896. The fact there's a persistent myth about Anna being Georgiy's twin sister could mean Georgiy did have a twin named Anna too (some families re-use for latter children the names they gave to still born babies) but it's a bit unlikely as Anna died after Georgiy and his elusive twin's births.

Georgiy Rasputin, born 25th of May 1894, according to some sources, on the 1st of May according to others. However, there's a discrepancy of around three weeks between the orthodox and roman calendars, and the roman calendar only started being used in Russia in 1918, which means both dates might be true. He died on september 13th of the same year at three-four months old.

Dmitry Rasputin, the boy who lived! He was born in 1895 and lived until the 1930's, when he died of dysentry in a labor camp up north, most probably in the Gulag. He had children but they died in the same camp, as well as his wife.

In 1896 was born an unnamed baby who didn't survive more than 24h.

On March 27th, 1898 was born Matrena Rasputina, who later chose the new name "Marija" (Maria) as it was more aristocratic. She died in 1977, on September 27 after making a career as a wild beasts tamer in a travelling circus then becoming a riveter on a defense shipyard during WW2. She had children herself but I won't get into details since it's not the point of this ask.

Finally, Varvara was born in 1900 and died of typhus in 1925 without children.

Now, we don't know how Mikhail, Anna, Georgiy or the unnamed baby died, but we do know the dates so let's extrapolate.

1889, 1894, 1896 (x2).

in 1891, there was a pretty bad famine in Russia, and 1892 even saw people using unsafe provisions for their stoves, which led to cataract in old and very young people.

In winter, because of poor health-related knowledge, it's not rare people died of pneumonia that had become too bad to cure, or from tape- and round-worms because of unsafe water drunk. There are ritual binge-drinking of kids as young as 9-yo. Babies regularly died of infections from not being changed after soiling themselves. A russian researcher (Semyonova) wrote that summer was the worst time for that as very young children were often left unnattended while their parents were working on the fields, most often from diarrhea after eating something bad.

Now though I doubt Mikhail died of the famine as he was born before it happened. Granted, famines don't always start at the exact point they are recorded to have started, but he died in the same year he was born. And the others were born after the famine stopped.

As for all the other poor health issues, Giorgiy might have died from diarrhea after eating dirt or weeds when left unnattended in the summer: he died in september, which is the end of the crops. Although I can't guarantee Mikhail's date of death, it's plausible it's the same.

This leaves us with the unnamed baby and Anna.

Now the same researcher claims infanticide, mainly of unwanted/illegitimate children, were common. But while Rasputin's wife might have killed that young child, it is noted that most infanticide, accidental or not (a parent rolls over in bed and smothers the child for example) happen in younger years, and she had already had multiple other children.

And also, as any post-natal nurse will tell you, if a child dies in the 24h following the birth, chances are they were just too weak to survive. Nowadays, there's post-natal care to help the runts survive but at the time, in rural Russia? None.

The four years old is the most interesting. Semyonova relates at lengths not only infanticides but also child beatings. However, Martena/Maria described her father in her Memoirs as a simple, loving man and father. Yes, she was born after her big sister's death, and yes, she was born and raised at a time where her father's fortunes had gotten better. But this still throws a doubt on whether or not Rasputin would have beaten his daughter to death. I'll choose to believe he didn't. Then, if she had died a particularly brutal death (trampled by a horse or killed in an alleyway for example) we would probably have records of it, if only because there was a wide campaign of defamation against her father at some point, but while they accused him of stealing horses and killing someone in a fight (which no records of were found in his hometown), they never accused him of infanticide, which probably means not only that she didn't get beaten up to death but also that her death wasn't suspicious at all.

The diarrhea thing is plausible: she died in may, which saw peaks in such deaths. However, she was already four years old: not to say she should have survived it, but that if she hadn't died of it earlier, there was no reason she would have died of it later. I would go with pneumonia, but it's mainly during winter that those epidemics happen. HOWEVER the late 1890's were part of the mini-ice-age which saw winters and all-year-round get considerably colder, which could mean extended winter until may. Also, it's Russia, which isn't exactly known as a tropical destination. So she probably died of some illness or food poisonning, either because of the cold or the hunger. Of course if it's for fictional purposes you could also make her drown, for symbolism, as Rasputin's older brother Andrei died drowning himself.

Now though do take into account that this is all hypothesis. Interpol was only created in 1923 and there are not secret records I can browse on the Rasputin children who died young (on the others though...)

[srhhrtmn21222]

Step Eight - Making Our List

List the people I've harmed and the specific ways I harmed each one.

(Names changed for confidentiality)

*Mom & Dad - I regularly lied about where I was and who I was with. I also borrowed money under false pretenses. When offered help, I denied that I needed any.

*My sister - I also lied about who I was with, where I was, and what the money I was borrowing was for.

*My husband - I brought dope into his house. Although he said he didn't mind, I shouldn't have brought it around. He also let me borrow money for it during the early stages of our relationship. He also was around while I was getting sober, dealing with the emotional backlash that shouldn't have been taken out on him.

*My daughter - Although she will (hopefully) never experience that part of me, there's other things she will endure as being a daughter of a former addict. Things such as an over-protective mother, questioning her friends' motives, irritability during my cravings, and so much more than I can currently think of.

*Cici - I broke her trust by using dope while taking care of her child. Although she knew about my using, she did not approve of my using while her daughter was in my care. I may not have used with B in the room, but I also wasn't sober when I was being her provider.

*Jagerbomb - While we were together I regularly lied about who I was with and what I was doing when I would be late for our plans. I also would spontaneously cancel plans with her to see a guy I was messing around with (that she knew about).

*Robert - When we were together, I cheated on him (with his best friend) after telling him I would wait for him to get out of jail. I also lied about what I was doing and who I was with during this time. During the short time that we were sober together, I constantly would bring up wanting to use and asking if we could.

*Daniel - I should have ended my relationship (earlier) with Robert. I was afraid of how Robert would react. Because of this, I inadvertently got Daniel hurt. I believed a lie and he got beaten up when we were going to give Robert a ride. He also asked me many times if we could get sober. He mentioned a few times that he would only use because he knew I wanted to.

*My granny - I would cause her to worry about me when I would stay out late at night (or even the few times I stayed out all night, and the one time I was gone for more than 24 hours). She would stay up late, waiting for me to come home. When she went to bed, she'd leave the light on and door unlocked for me (until I told her to start locking the doors and I'd use my key). She would even make sure I had leftovers to eat in the stove.

*Church & Extended family - I betrayed everyone's trust that was near to me. For the longest, I couldn't do anything without being high. So many of them raised me to make better choices. Some even begged me to. When confronted, I either denied the truth, or even played dumb about it.