#fair warning even if I do end up painting one of these I'm not kidding about the UFO folder

[pentrologram]

What Normal People Do - 7

You reach a discovery.

warning for one use of the f-slur and implied homophobia (from a minor, unnamed, unfaced character)

it's been three whole weeks... i'm sorry, y'all. at first i was gonna publish this on my birthday, then the sunday after and now it's been two weeks. anyways, hope you enjoy :)

ao3!

ghost/soap/gn!reader (established ghoap)

Something's Happening To Me

Maybe you’ve been sidelined a little.

Johnny has really started to boom with his online endeavours- he started a TikTok account, which he had told you excitedly about a month ago. Mostly, he posts videos about his Etsy shop and how his art process works, but… Well, he’s also Johnny. He’s bright and bubbly and that lures some odd hundred thousand followers to his account- perhaps they didn’t come for his personality, but they sure stayed for it. His following nearly triples when Riley becomes a fixture in his content.

It's good to see Johnny thriving on something he hadn't even considered a possibility not even three months ago. He's enjoying his new community, you can see it, in the way he's always excitedly talking your ears off about new friends and new experiences he's being invited to or planning or participating in or setting up. It's awesome seeing how he gets some recognition at a nearby art museum he sometimes goes to film content at, how the museum has started to carve away time for Johnny to sit in utter silence and just... be. They also let Riley in, which earns them more brownie points.

After a month or so of you tagging along with Johnny’s endeavours, the same museum hosts a sponsorship for Johnny, letting him come in any time he wants in a secluded part of the museum, away from prying eyes. In exchange, the museum gets some of his framed artwork for his own exhibit in the museum. It's a win-win, really, for Johnny and the museum- Johnny and Riley get a good time and his TikTok page grows, and the museum gets basically free publicity and a fresh, cool new artist to bring into their fold.

It works wonderfully for both parties involved and before you know it, other small museums are doing the same- inviting Johnny over to sit down and make content while talking about the exhibits the museum has. Johnny being Johnny makes it hard for the promotional videos to be uninteresting, though, and they only serve to further Johnny’s following.

Summer is rapidly coming to a close and you can tell by the almost violent influx of fairs being held. There are apple fairs, tech fairs, scissors fairs, knitting fairs, sewing fairs, flower fairs- you name it and there's probably a fair for it. The people of Durham are enjoying the good weather before the blunt end of fall drops and makes the trees turn grey and the grass lifeless. 

Johnny gets invited to his fair share of the ‘good-weather-craze’ fairs, and you do too by extension.

He’s invited to make a showing of some of his art or to open a stall to teach random people how to use charcoal properly or even doing face painting for toddlers, once. It's quite enjoyable for you, being able to see Johnny in his natural element and see other people get infected by the magic that is so uniquely Johnny. It feels like you’re passing his pure goodness on.

Seeing Johnny squint his eyes as he leans forward in his plastic folding chair, carefully keeping a squirmy six-year-old still with callused hands as he paints flowers around the kid’s cheekbones inspires a steady thump-thump in your chest, but the feeling is promptly shoved down. Now, nor ever, was a good time.

Simon and you are along for the ride as you watch Johnny bloom before your eyes. He’s talking to a group of admirers animatedly at an outdoor art bazaar while you and Simon enjoy milkshakes from a purple-haired man and his cat.

Simon’s already halfway through his while you’ve just started to lick the whipped cream, and you’re about to tease him when someone walking by bumps into you with a rushed apology. The whipped cream smudges on your chin, making Simon’s brow furrow. He bends down a little to wipe it off of your chin with his finger, before licking it off, startling a barked laugh from you. If you had turned a little, you would’ve seen Johnny staring intently from where he was.

“That’s- oh, my god. That’s disgusting.” You giggle. Simon smiles from underneath his mask- you’ve gotten better at reading his emotions, such as now, when his cheekbones raise and his eyes crinkle. He grunts.

“Couldn’t let it go to waste, could I?”

The comment makes something flutter in the cavity behind your heart. You know exactly what it is, of course, but. Well. Now doesn’t feel like an appropriate time for those feelings to ruck their way up. Simon and Johnny are happily together- honestly, you’re convinced they’re married and never told you. It simply wouldn’t be fair of you to push these feelings onto them when you know they don’t reciprocate.

“C’mon, love. ‘S go back to Johnny.”

The next time that pesky lighthearted feeling comes back is when Johnny gets invited to a restaurant for a small, intimate talk with himself and 200 other influential people in the area. The restaurant itself is more art-focused than most, boasting authentic pieces from the greats- such as Picasso, a Rothko, and even a Monet. As a gift, Johnny gives the restaurant three pieces- first, a sculpture he made ages ago but was still proud of, and then a matching set of two canvases. One was of a shapeless, nameless figure (Johnny) and a big, hulking figure (Simon). They met halfway, in the space between the canvases, in a kiss. You were invited, of course, and you had pulled out one of your nicest outfits for the occasion.

The three of you had been led to your table, surrounded by other people. Most of them weren't artists and were likely just very faithful regulars, but the effort was appreciated all the same. You listened to quite a few speeches from persons you had never heard of while you were served very fancy and very good food. Simon didn't eat, too uncomfortable to slip his fancy cloth mask from his face in the presence of so many people.

When all the plates are cleared, the visitors either leave or explore the art installations. Simon was hungry and apparently fancy restaurants didn't offer takeout boxes, so Simon and Johnny left early, leaving you alone.

You wandered around before finding Johnny's exhibit near the other smaller, less-known artists. You stand and stare for a second until someone else comes to admire with you. You give them a small smile, noticing their appearance as.. odd. All black while wearing a ski mask. They put a gloved finger up to where their lips might be before uncapping a thick, industrial-grade Sharpie. Suddenly, they lunge forward and scrape onto the canvas:

F AGG OT

In the heat of the moment, you gasp before lunging forward with them, making the person press the sharpie harder into the canvas. They're more agile than you, though, slipping away. In a fit, you throw Johnny's sculpture after them, and with perfect aim, you hit the back of their head.

They grunt and you, still enraged, shout something along the lines of 'help'. By the time the manager finds you, the person has long since escaped and you're crying from the lack of adrenaline and also the guilt of knowing you broke Johnny's sculpture. The manager is kind, though, helping you calm down and gently instructing you to call Johnny so you can tell him what happened.

Johnny and Simon are there again within the hour.

Johnny sort of... sadly stares at his defaced artwork with you and Simon on either of his sides. The cleaning team sweeps up the remains of the sculpture, and they ask Johnny if he wants to keep them. He just shakes his head and doesn't watch as they dump the clay shards.

The manager comes back and Simon leaves to ask her about security cameras, leaving you to hold Johnny's hand as you both stare at the wall. The guilt gnaws painfully at your gut.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I saw them. And I didn't- I didn't do anything." You say, hanging your head. While you had thrown the sculpture at the assailant, it hadn't done anything at all. They had gotten away. And when you think about it logically, they probably would've left the sculpture alone, seeing as their motives were purely and singularly homophobic. You weren't keen to tell anyone of your accident.

"Nothin' we can do, bon," Johnny says quietly. He squeezes your hand. "Nothin' we can do."

Simon comes back shortly, frustrated, and that's when the fluttering feeling comes back. He's not trying to upset Johnny but he's also mad- mad that there are no security cameras in this part of the art wing, nobody to protect the smaller artists' work. You know you shouldn't but you're secretly relieved- nobody will know that it wasn't the vandalizer who broke Johnny's sculpture.

It takes a while for Johnny to get back to his usual bubbly self. It's a moment of mourning, being brought down to earth, remembering that terrible people exist in the same world that Johnny does. The police get involved at some point, and you think that helps him. Just a little.

It takes a little while for things to go back to normal. You and Simon are there every step of the way, making him smile when it seems the hardest. Maybe your reassurance isn't needed all too much, but the guilt of everything compels you to be as useful as humanly possible. That means bringing baked goods around, helping with Riley when Simon is preoccupied, and helping ship out old orders from Johnny's Etsy. It also means helping Simon moderate the comments on Johnny's Tiktok page- ever since the vandalism incident, there's been a significant flux in hate comments.

Simon thanks you for it over tea when Johnny's out with some friends.

"'S been hard for him." Simon laments, surgical mask foregone as he cradles his little plastic cup of tea, dwarfing it with his two massive paws. "He's doin' a lot better now, thou'." You nod. Simon sighs and downs half the cup. "A real fancy exhibit's goin' up a week from now. And.... Well, Johnny got invited to display som' stuff. But... I don't know if it's gon' be the right thing for him."

"Yeah, but... Well, doesn't it sound like a good opportunity? Have you asked him?"

"No," Simon says sheepishly. "But-"

"You should." You cut him off with. "It could... I don't know, be like exposure therapy or something. Ask him." You press.

"Yeah." He grunts.

That's how you find yourself in a modern, sleek building, inside, watching Johnny give a speech in front of a whole wing dedicated to his artwork. There are Men In Black-like security guards there, to prevent any future vandalism. The light in Johnny's eyes is back and it warms your heart to see.

"Bonnie!" Johnny says, giving you a toothy grin as he bounds off the stage to strongarm you into a hug.

"You did great." You tell him the second he releases you. His grin is almost blinding.

He's about to continue the conversation before another bright-eyed well-wisher comes about. You smile at him before leaving him to his admirers. You sniffed out Simon nearby Johnny, watching like a protective guard dog. Eventually, you decide to slip out by yourself. You feel so fancy, in your finery, looking at Johnny’s lovely pieces, wandering around while cradling a glass of bubbly champagne.

Johnny’s display for the night is influenced by the fall season that’s on your heels. There’s photorealism of Riley in a white cloth like a ghost (you never thought that he could do photorealism, but then again it’s Johnny) and there’s a few of an environment- his flat, you know, specifically that of a messy bed and a singular potted plant. A single green tree surrounded by bunches of yellow ones.

You have one or two too many glasses as you wander aimlessly. Just as you’re about to throw in the towel, tired from the alcohol and fancy shoes, you come across a little crowd- which is odd, as it was a free-form exhibit, meant to be processed at your own pace.

Curiously you squeeze yourself through, peering up at the piece hung up along with a few other viewers.

It’s a white canvas with two black charcoal figures; one you can easily recognise as Simon, what with the familiar broad shoulders and the hulking frame Johnny loves to draw, but there’s an underlying softness to it, a gentleness as he hunches over the second figure, his brows tight as he cradles the other figure’s hand.  It takes your mind, impaired by the alcohol, some time before you’re able to see the other figure for what it is- you. Yourself. It makes you gasp and nearly topple over from shock- Johnny had rarely ever included anyone else other than Simon in his work, and that had only been one time, and it had been his mom. Seeing yourself, dwarfed by Simon, warmed your heart and yeah, maybe you cried a little.

It probably wasn’t the most normal thing to do, but, well. You had reached an epiphany- that persistent throb in your chest wasn’t just attraction.

You loved the two of them.

<- back

[opalimagines]

End of the Summer

The American Dream sponsors a fair to close out the summer. Takes place in the summer between seasons two and three.

Rick Tyler/gn!reader

Warnings: None

Notes: This was inspired by a fair that happens in the town my grandparents live in, which is a lot like Blue Valley. So it's not as unrealistic as it probably sounds lol.

Summer in Blue Valley was finally coming to a close.

To celebrate—and to help make up for the dreary weather earlier in the summer—the American Dream and other local businesses organized a full-blown carnival. On Saturday and Sunday, the whole of downtown would be taken over by rides and games and food stalls.

You decided you wanted to go the moment you heard about it, and luckily Rick and Jakeem agreed to go as well. Even Yolanda had managed to find an excuse to leave the house at the very last minute. Beth was volunteering all weekend at one of the booths, but she assured you all that she'd have an opportunity to get away and enjoy the fair while you were there.

This wasn't something that happened every year, but after such an odd summer, the town made it happen. Since it was the first day, the streets were crowded. It seemed that nearly everyone in town, and maybe even some from surrounding towns, had turned out to have fun.

The four of you had started out sticking together, but Yolanda went off to get something to eat, and Jakeem decided he wanted to go on the Gravitron after some convincing from his genie pal, so you and Rick ended up on your own.

After several minutes, you saw a face painting booth, ran by a few kids that Rick recognized as art students at Blue Valley High. There wasn't a line at the moment, but he was still surprised when you stopped. "I've never done this before. I'm going to give it a try."

"I'm gonna go find a game to play," he said, gesturing over towards the prize booths.

"I'll meet you after. Good luck!"

And, with that, Rick was on his own for a while.

He kept a casual pace, walking down the street and through the mass of people, looking for a game to pass the time. He chose to ignore the funny looks some of the student volunteers were giving him, just like he always did.

A prize at one of the booths caught his eye. A familiar speedy blue hedgehog, about a foot tall, hanging up along the top of the booth. Not only did you have a poster of him in your room, but you'd also convinced Rick to play one of the games with you during his second evening at the Garrick-Swift home. While he wasn't very good at playing as Tails—or as anyone, really—he thought he'd do much better at this water gun game and maybe win something for his friend.

Rick handed the operator a bit of cash, and after a few rounds, walked away with his very own Sonic.

"Hey, Rick!"

He turned around at the sound of your voice and found you making your way towards him in the crowd. The first thing he noticed was your face, which had been entirely painted like a tiger. It was a wonder you'd been able to sit still the whole time. He smiled a bit as you stopped in front of him. "Nice face paint."

"Thanks," you said with a grin. "It was my first time, so I wanted to go all out. How did your games go?"

Suddenly, Rick became very aware of the prize he held in his hand, and his cheeks began to warm. This was stupid. He should probably just give it away to a little kid or something—

"Oh, you won a Sonic? He's so cute!"

After a beat, Rick held it out to you. "You can have it if you want."

"Really?" You asked with wide eyes. He spent who knows how much money and put in effort into winning it, and he was just giving it to you?

"I had to pick a prize, and I'm not a stuffed animal guy," he said, as if he hadn't instantly thought of you the moment he laid eyes on it.

You reached out and took it, pushing back tears. No one besides your father and your other family (of sorts) from Opal City had ever given you anything like that. "Um, thanks. I love it."

Rick smiled, and you smiled back, but the moment was interrupted by Beth's voice.

"I see them over here!" You spotted her several yards away, Yolanda and Jakeem following behind. Once all five of you were together, she continued. "We're going on the ferris wheel. Do you guys want to come?"

"I do!"

You looked over at Rick hopefully, and he answered, "Yeah, sure."

The group began making their way in that direction as Beth noticed the toy that rested in the crook of your elbow. "You won a prize? That's great!"

"Actually, Rick won it and gave it to me. I was busy getting my face painted."

You didn't notice the look that she and Yolanda shared as you turned toward Jakeem. "Hey, how did you like the Gravitron?"

"It was awesome. I definitely didn't throw up," he answered very unconvincingly, so Thunderbolt's whisper-yell of "He's lying" surprised no one.

Once at the ferris wheel, you and Rick were put in one car, and Yolanda and Beth in another. Jakeem had managed to get one to himself, because the disembodied voice of the Thunderbolt was sure to freak someone out.

As people continued to be loaded up, your car was lifted up higher and higher. Rick looked out over the town, not caring too much for the view. He knew he'd lived other places before, but he could only remember Blue Valley. The place he desperately wanted to escape, where he was probably never going to be seen as anything but a troubled kid, except by a handful of people. He enjoyed the quiet of the woods outside of town, but that was about it.

"Wow, what a view!"

He turned towards you and saw you leaning out of the side of the car a bit, clutching onto your Sonic. For a split second, he almost grabbed onto you to keep you safely inside, but he quickly realized you were still pretty secure. Not that falling out would be a problem for you anyway, considering you could apparently run up and down buildings with ease.

"You mean the endless cornfields?"

"Yeah, you probably don't find it too exciting. But I've lived in big cities my whole life. There's not much of this, mostly just skyscrapers as far as the eye can see." You sat back fully in your seat and looked over at him. "You should visit Opal someday. I could take you to the views no one else can get to, like the top of the electric company building. It's got a little of the ocean, a little of the skyline, and Opal Gardens, too. You can even see a bit of Turk County."

Being on top of a skyscraper didn't sound like a good time, but he didn't hate the idea of visiting your home city and getting a tour of the best sights. "That sounds cool."

"Maybe we can go during spring break? We've got our home there, so you could stay a few days if you wanted to. Papa would probably like going back home for a while." You realized that you were getting way too ahead of things, and you quickly stopped yourself. "No pressure, of course, but it could be fun."

Rick gave you a little smile, fidgeting a bit with his hands. "You always make Opal City sound pretty great. You obviously love it a lot. I wouldn't mind seeing it."

I wouldn't mind showing it to you, you almost said, but your stomach was doing backflips, and not because of the ride.

You turned to once again look out of the side of the car, and Rick cleared his throat as he did the same.

Meanwhile, Beth and Yolanda could hear everything from the car above you, and they were already planning to text Courtney all about it.

[thestupidhelmet]

In what ways do you think the OG gang was written as 70s teenagers (boomers) but the 90s gang seemed like modern teenagers dressed in 90s clothes? I mean I agree with the latter point but in the later seasons of T70S I also felt like the kids (other than being obsessed with teen marriage for some reason) seemed more late 90s/early 00s and not really like boomers. For one they were super accepting of Fez and Kelso's allegedly gay relationship when in season 1 there was a lot of gay panic and jokes about Eric and Buddy, which sadly is more believable for a small town in the 70s.

Hi! 😀

I wasn't a teenager in the '70s (or an adult or a child during that decade 😂), but I know people who were teens and kids back then. I've also read a lot about that time and watched documentaries. So I have knowledge of the era.

People tend to paint all Boomers, Gen Xers, Millennials, etc. with the same brush. But the baby boom era refers to people born between 1946 to 1964. Boomers born in the 1960s share a lot in common with Gen Xers born in the same decade. Boomers born in the '40s are quite different than those born in the '60s.

Before I do deep dive into the main question of your ask, I'd like to address the following statement from your ask:

[The characters] were super acceptable of Fez and Kelso's allegedly gay relationship when in season 1 there was a lot of gay panic and jokes about Eric and Buddy ...

In "That '70s Pilot" (1x01), the teen characters meet a gay male couple on the road to the Rundgren concert. The price for Eric et al. getting the Vista Cruiser a new car battery is giving these two men two tickets to the concert. During the concert, Eric realizes the men are in a romantic relationship and tells his friends. Donna casually says, "I'm cool with it," and Eric excitedly says afterward, "We are so cool to be okay with it!"

The Stonewall Riots in 1969 and the subsequent pride marches -- including Wisconsin's first in 1971 -- would have shaped Eric and his friends' view of homosexuality. As depicted from the show's first episode, they're clearly more tolerant than their parents (particularly Red) and even accepting.

In "Eric's Buddy" (1x11), Eric's gay panic is played for laughs. But to be fair to Eric, and the writing, Buddy kisses Eric with no warning. That might be a shock to people in this era if a friend were to kiss them in such a way -- especially and regardless if one's romantic/sexual attraction doesn't include the friend's gender.

Eric's panic in that moment is understandable outside of the fact Buddy is gay and Eric is not. If Hyde kissed Eric on the mouth, Eric would be as freaked out, if not more.

Toward the end of the episode, Fez states that Buddy is "so obviously gay." Fez says this as a matter of fact, not judgment. Jackie's reaction is denial and implied negative judgement. Kelso has an egocentric, ignorant, but not necessarily homophobic denial, believing Buddy can't be gay because Buddy didn't put moves on him.

Once Eric is alone with Donna and Hyde, his friends -- out of curiosity -- want to know if Buddy's gay. Eric says it's not his place to ... [say], and that answer tells Donna and Hyde that Buddy is gay. Their following conversation reaffirms Donna's respect for gay people.

When Eric presents what actually happened between himself and Buddy as a hypothetical situation, Donna recognizes his gay panic. She says, "[Buddy's] not gonna make a move in you if he knows you're straight." Donna is keenly invested in 1970s feminist causes, and her being clear-eyed about homosexuality fits her character.

Hyde teases Eric, saying he's "pretty irresistible," but demonstrates no homophobia. Just a specific-to-him sense of humor. He's also romantically interested in Donna at the time, so his follow-up comment to her about Eric potentially "decid[ing] to dabble in the love that dare not speak its name]" is about no longer having a rival for her affections.

So there's not "a lot of gay panic and jokes about Eric and Buddy" in season 1. There's one scene where Eric is shocked that his new good friend Buddy kissed him romantically, Eric realizing that Buddy is gay, and continuing to be friends with Buddy after the event. Eric both accepts Buddy's sexuality and wonders why Buddy is attracted to him, the latter being subtextually about why Donna might be attracted to him -- as foreshadowed by Eric sharing with Buddy earlier his concerns about how he feels about Donna.

Onto the first part of your statement that "[the characters] were super acceptable of Fez and Kelso's allegedly gay relationship (...)". In season 5, Fez and Kelso develop a close friendship they didn't have previously in the show. Fez is very open about complimenting his male friends' physical attributes (e.g., Hyde's legs, Eric's eyes, etc.) and is particularly vocal about Kelso's attractiveness to women.

In "Your Time Is Gonna Come" (5x13), Hyde's insecurity about Jackie's feelings for him is exacerbated by her reaction to Kelso being romantic with his final summer fling, Annette, in Point Place. Hyde feels reassured for a moment because Jackie seems to have become friends with Annette, but Fez says, "Never count Kelso out. He's got a way about him. When he talks to you, it's like you're the only person in the room."

Fez's words retrigger Hyde's insecurity, and he reacts by saying, "You're, like, half in love with him, aren't you?" Hyde is clearly annoyed that Fez believes Kelso could woo Jackie back. Kelso's been trying since he learned of Hyde's relationship with her. This exchange with Fez is less about Fez's high regard for and awe of Kelso's prowess with women, and his own feelings of platonic attraction to Kelso, than Hyde's fear of losing Jackie.

After Fez has an erotic dream about Kelso in "You Shook Me" (5x22), Fez is scared what the dream means. He doesn't consider himself bisexual or homosexual. This is his canon characterization. He experiences gay panic about himself. Once Kelso learns of the dream, Kelso -- in his illogical way -- panics that Fez's dream means that Kelso himself is gay. Donna and Eric find the situation hilarious, not because of homophobia but because they consider their friends' situation and fears ridiculous.

Later in the episode, Kelso confides in Jackie that he loves Fez but can't return what he believes are Fez's romantic feelings and doesn't want to hurt him. This admission demonstrates Kelso's acceptance of Fez's sexuality (if he is gay) and that it wouldn't change Kelso's platonic feelings for him.

All the misunderstandings between Fez and Kelso are reminiscent of those from Three's Company, a 1970s sitcom where the main character (Jack) has to pretend to be gay to live with his two female roommates; otherwise, the landlord would evict him. In that sitcom, the first landlord (Mr. Roper) makes lightly derogatory gay jokes toward Jack, but Jack can be seen as a defender of gay men's right to be treated with respect through his responses to Mr. Roper's burns.

The second landlord (Mr. Furley) also makes gay jokes at Jack's expense, but his are less biting and more silly. But Mr. Furley grows to view Jack as a son, and in a touching scene between them, Mr. Furley tells Jack if he (Furley) ever did have a son, he'd want him to be exactly like Jack -- gay or not.

To give the full picture, being gay is generally written on that show as being an aberration. Jack admits to Mr. Furley after the moment discussed above that he's not gay and uses the word normal to describe himself. In the series finale, Jack has finally fallen in love with a woman and is going to live with her, and Mr. Furley declares that Jack has been cured [of his homosexuality].

I use Three's Company as an example to illustrate several ways how male homosexuality was portrayed and regarded by certain people in the 1970s. An important fact to note, however, is that Jack is in his early-mid twenties at the start of the show while his landlords are in their fifties. Jack isn't a teenager, but he's able to pose as gay for almost a decade without feeling ashamed or emasculated by it. He's frustrated that he can't be out as his true self -- in a reversal and as a reflection of gay people's experiences of that time.

Today, we have cis-straight allies and cis-straight queerphobes. The same was true in the 1970s, and the T7S teens are generally portrayed as allies who have their points of view shaped by their individual personalities. Small towns can contain a wide variety of and conflicting perspectives on many subjects. I'm close with someone who lives in a small town. They are LGBTQ+ and very involved in that community, yet they have a very conservative, anti-LGBTQ+ Republican neighbor on one side of their house and a progressive ally neighbor in the house across the street.

Although a lot of dogmatic groupthink is happening across the political spectrum, plenty of people haven't fallen prey to it. They maintain their individuality and ability to question any kind of dogmatic belief about any group of people and recognize the humanity in the folks that these dogmatic movements across the political spectrum try to dehumanize with their rhetoric, their exclusionary (or gatekeeping) behavior, their protests, their physical attacks, and their laws.

I speak on the above subject as a reminder that people's perspectives in the 1970s were not monolithic despite that heteronormativity was accepted as "normal" by wider U.S. society. And Point Place isn't that small a town. Canonically, it has a population of 28,111 people (thirty thousand, to round up). That's huge compared to towns with only a few hundred residents.

Below the cut is my answer to your general question.

Your focus is on the teen characters of T7S, but their relationship with the adult characters is vital to understanding them and their connection to 1970s U.S. society. Red and Kitty are born in the late 1920s and early 1930s respectively. They had their children in the late 1950s and in 1960.

Eric in season 1 rebels against his parents' '50s mentality of raising children and gender roles, but he's also a product of it. He straddles the conservatism of the '50s and the counterculture of the mid-to-late '60s. This fact is baked into his character and remains an inextricable part of it throughout the series. Dissecting that aspect from him destroys his character. It's not mere window dressing.

Eric is both someone who is totally fine with people being gay and even thinks it's cool that he is totally fine with it as well as having a regressive idea of his role as the man in a relationship with a woman. Yet he falls in love with Donna, a feminist who fights to have the same freedoms and opportunities as men.

When they're just friends, Eric treats Donna as "one of the guys" -- in other words, as an equal. Once their romantic relationship begins, he feels emasculated by her athletic prowess, her intelligence, and her independence. His idea of their future is her being a stay-at-home housewife who parents their twin infants, but he already knows she's career-minded. He clearly believes that once they start a family, she'd give into the gender role that she would've been assigned in the 1950s. She disabuses him of this idea, but his need to fit the 1950s idea of manhood persists throughout the series -- "because the man is the man" and if she pays for her own engagement ring that's like her "cutting off his [balls]".

Yet Eric doesn't recognize that his dad never has an issue with his mom's nursing career or acknowledge that his mom carries the family financially when his dad is out of a job. This is a failure in the writing. Donna would have pointed out that his mom is a career woman, and this would've helped Eric reckon with his regressive gender essentialism.

Donna's parents reflect the dichotomy and conflict that make up Eric's character. Her dad is the business-owning money maker who actively dissuades and denies her mom of having the same opportunity. Midge takes feminism classes, and they help her recognize how unhappy she is with the limitations Bob's gender essentialism has put on her. Donna grows up in this environment and doesn't want to end up limited like her mom.

Donna's feminism and fight for equal gender rights is a direct result of the micro and macro her upbringing. The micro is her parents. The macro is the 1960s and 1970s view of women's roles in society and how they're evolving. Stripping Donna of this era-specific aspect would destroy her character. It's not mere window dressing. It informs so many of her choices and relationships with her friends, male and female.

Hyde's character is quintessential late '60s and early '70s counterculture. He's a hippie, a punk, a conspiracy theorist, a feminist, a stoner, an agnostic humanist, and a teenager with a lot of trauma whose actions don't always align with his deeper beliefs. His character unravels without the two eras in which he's grown up, the '60s and '70s, and their various social movements.

Jackie is a product of her classist upbringing. In season 1, both her parents have major careers (attorney and multiple business owner father and real-estate agent mother). Her father, despite often being absent because of work, is the only parent we see her interacting with before her mom is retconned in seasons 5 and 6 into a career-less socialite gold digger.

In season 1, Jackie is academically ambitious. She clearly plans on following in her parents' footsteps and wants Kelso to step up in this area. She's also the one who has control in her relationship with Kelso (until he breaks free of it behind her back). She's not a self-declared feminist, but her view that her gender doesn't limit her possibilities reflects 1970s feminism.

Also in season 1, she has unprotected sex with Kelso, resulting in a pregnancy scare. Donna gets herself on the Pill, which became more widely available in the 1970s after feminists questioned/debated whether or not it was a tool of of the patriarchy. Donna supports Jackie through her pregnancy scare and suggests she go on the Pill, and Donna also talks about the Equal Right Amendment.

Later in the show when Jackie's dating Hyde, she believes that she must depend on a man to keep her beyond financially secure but privileged. This character change begins in season 2, but she remains ambitious about her career prospects, and they don't involve Kelso. When she's forced to get a job in season 4, she learns a rudimentary lesson about being financially independent and responsible.

Her stark change in belief from having her own career to needing a man to survive monetarily stems from her dad going to prison, her family going bankrupt, and her mom abandoning her -- resulting in a sixteeen/seventeen-year-old Jackie without an adult guardian and being the one to take responsibility for the very adult aftermath of the family's bankruptcy.

The latter-most part isn't realistic for the '70s or today. But Hyde encourages Jackie to make her own money (and, inferred, to have a successful career). He reminds her of who she is before her family tragedies struck, and the ultimate payoff happens in "On With the Show" (season 7), when she takes a risk and succeeds. She gains confidence in herself, and Hyde leaves his own desires aside so she can enjoy her victory.

Of all the characters, Jackie's personality is the most timeless and could form with the same parents in any era from the 1970s to today. That being said, many specific details of Jackie's personality stem from the '60s and '70s: the nature and content of her fantasies and of her classism, her idiolect (personal dialect) -- for instance, she calls Kelso lover. Teens in the '90s did not do this. The struggles she experiences are also connected to the era she lives in, not separate. Despite her personality generally being universal, her life experience is specific to the times in which she grows up.

Kelso has a striking resemblance in appearance to and, albeit a lesser extent, personality of Vinnie Barbarino from Welcome Back Kotter, a show produced in the 1970s that takes place in the 1970s (I believe the T7S creators purposely sought that out in casting Kelso). Both Vinnie and Kelso lack common sense and aren't academically bright.

Kelso is a self-obsessed 1970s teenage boy, ignorant of the social movements of the time. His character stands in sharp contrast to Eric, Donna, Hyde, and Jackie in many ways -- purposely. Not every teenager today is tuned into what's going on in wider society; they're myopically involved in their social groups and their love/sex lives. In fact, this is quite common for teenagers since the 1950s, when teen culture came into existence. The word myopic isn't meant as an insult but descriptive.

Characters like Kelso have existed and continue to exist in sitcoms, but Kelso's personality is specific to the era he grows up in. His sexism has the flavor of 1960s-1970s sexism (e.g., "Girls don't even enjoy sex," etc.) His similarities to his friends are based on liking the same aspects of 1970s teen culture as they do. Without the math and tech prodigy aspect of his character in season 1, he wouldn't survive today's world (but a discussion of that thesis is beyond the scope of this meta).

Kelso's choices are based both on his upbringing and the era he lives in. If the latter were removed, he would be a different character. Familiar but not T7S's Michael Kelso.

Fez is a foreign exchange student, a typical fish out of water. Unfortunately, T7S portrays six or seven different versions of Fez, so his connection to the 1970s is more difficult to pin down. But he does have one. So much of his character in seasons 1-3 is learning how to assimilate into U.S. 1970s teen culture, with Hyde as his main mentor. A lot of his scenes involve him discovering what 1970s American teens like to do, to watch on TV, how they joke.

Take him out of the '70s and transport him to today, and his experience would be very different. Possibly worse than the relatively mild xenophobia he experiences from Red, Jackie, and Kelso, and the moderate xenophobia from many students at Point Place High.

[elvenbeard]

I chose "Numb".

Thanks so much for asking!! :D

This is the story of the night of Vince running away from home, June 9th 2067! Ooof I'm having a hard time picking a favourite section from this, cause this was one of my favourite chapters to write, but also one of the hardest and darkest of that fic so far ;_; Little bit of a content warning, but Vince is really depressed and suicidal at that point, even if he wouldn't openly admit it. For context, it's utterly pouring, he just spent the last hour or so walking around, trying to figure out where to go because he packed his things and left in a hurry before his mother would come back home. He's worried she will somehow track him down and so takes a moment to sit down and blocks all his contacts as a first step to prevent anyone from his old life from reaching out to or finding him.

Every couple of flicks and blocks he had to wipe off the rain that accumulated on the screen, and even though his fingers were getting stiff from the cold he continued on through the list until he was sure he’d severed all ties for the moment. To properly reset the phone without losing any important data he’d need a dry place though, and some equipment, a computer ideally really, so this had to do for now. Finally, he reached the very bottom of what was now basically a long blocklist. His finger hovered over the final name, and he’d almost reflexively blocked him as well. He sniffled and reconsidered. “Welles, Jackie” said the last gleaming entry. He’d never called or texted him after that night. The fear that Jackie was just trying to make use of him somehow, like everyone else he knew, had just weighed too heavily on the pro- and contra-list. And even if he’d called him, what would he have said? “Thanks again for taking me back home to my abusive mother! She’s even more of a control freak meanwhile! How have you been?” No, even just thinking that… wasn’t fair. But then again, what was fair and unfair? Was it unfair that he was sitting on the curb now, in a puddle of his own misery, or was this exactly where he had been headed to the entire time? Was it fair to drag the Valentino kid into an even bigger mess than what he’d gotten himself into back in March, when he spoke up for a stranger he pitied?  Vincent’s finger continued to hover over the block button. Fair and unfair didn’t exist in Night City, neither did pity. There was no right, no wrong, only choices, decisions to make… and living with the consequences, as best as you managed.

He ends up calling Jackie, and after a little back and forth, Jackie comes by to pick him up and drives him to a relatively safe and discreet hotel he knows.

The exterior was a murky green color, the paint on the balcony railings peeling off, most windows on the lower levels boarded up. The sign above the entrance was flashing “vacancy”, to no-one’s surprise, and Jackie turned off his bike’s engine. “I know it doesn’t look like much,” he said, following Vincent’s unimpressed gaze, “But it’s better on the inside than it looks. Also discreet, and in walking distance to Kabuki Roundabout, where you’ll find literally everything you’re ever gonna need, for cheap.” Vincent hesitated to get off the bike, still clinging to Jackie’s rain-soaked bomber jacket. “The offer still stands to come back home with me, too, if you’ve changed your mind,” Jackie said softly after a couple of moments, “And if not today, tomorrow. Or next week. You’re always welcome.” Vincent tried to swallow down another onset of tears, then he got up from the motorbike, his backpack making the whole procedure look a lot less smooth than what he was going for. “Thank you, Jackie,” he said, “I know, and I hope you know, too, you don’t need to do any of this.” “Oh, I know, don’t worry,” Jackie said, smiling softly, “But you know, maybe next time I’ll be the one calling you from a bad place, and you’re able to help a friend out, right?” Vincent’s heart sank. “Right,” he nodded. Of course. That’s how things worked in Night City. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. He was naïve to assume Jackie did this out of the good of his heart. “Okay then,” Jackie sighed, “Anything else you need? Cash, advice? Been told I have a good shoulder to cry on, too.” Vincent chuckled weakly but kept his distance. “I’ll be fine,” he said, and Jackie also nodded. “Gimme a call in the morning, V,” he said as he turned the engine back on, “Or I’m gonna come by and make you.” He flashed another brief smile at him before taking off again, the taillight of his bike a red haze still visible from afar through the veil of rain. Vincent remained standing where he was for another five or so minutes, so numb from everything that had happened, he didn’t even care anymore. Then he slowly turned around to the hotel and walked into the small, dimly lit lobby. There was no human receptionist, only a type of vending machine that spat out room keycards. Very old-fashioned, but also cash only, and at least that would work out in his favor. He looked over his shoulder, making sure he was alone, before setting his backpack down and opening it. He had buried the black plastic box once holding his now completely ruined boots under a couple of layers of clothes, everything quickly picked at random. Now it contained all the money he had left in the world, carefully set aside over the course of the last few months. He still couldn’t believe he'd gotten away with it, that his mother had not figured it out sooner. He’d had no chance yet to count it, only knew a rough estimate. But even then, that only gave him a vague idea of how long it might last him on his own. He pulled out a few notes, enough to rent a room for a week for now. By then he’d hopefully have figured out how to move forward.

And in the end a little paragraph on what Vince in that moment would probably title "be careful what you wish for" - but even if his situation is dire in that moment, in the long run it was for the best, he just can't see it yet.

Somewhat absentmindedly his fingers brushed across the small bruise on his thigh, just below where his boxers ended. Unbelievable really how the tiny mark the injection had left, barely noticeable unless you knew exactly what to look out for, had escalated everything so badly, so quickly. He had wished for this to be the first real step in finally setting himself free, living more truly to who he was… and somehow his wish had simultaneously come true and backfired spectacularly. Yes, he was free now, free of his controlling mother, free of any expectations and rules his world had put on him… but also free of his health insurance, free of the funds to pay for the next shot, free of the ability to go wherever he liked without fearing to run into her, ready to drag him back by force. Free of a home. Free of everything that he had taken for granted and clung to with all his might, despite it slowly killing him from the inside…

kölajsdfhdasfsaf I kinda wanna just share the whole chapter, but I think these bits are some of my favourites, although there is a lot more and a lot more details that are dear to me too. I picked out the location of the hotel in game for example, driving around Kabuki for hours looking for a good and logical spot where it could be XD And the bridge where he sits in the beginning blocking all his contacts also holds so much symbolism to me as like... it's the connecting path between Westbrook and Heywood, corpo and streetkid, Vince and Jackie, his old and his new life, so it makes sense for them to reconnect there that night. Also, it is also visible from the Darkmatter rooftop, and when Vince sees it again from up there years later, remembers that for a splitsecond he thought about jumping off of it that night, he is so grateful again that he didn't and instead chose to continue against all odds.

So yes. A very important chapter xD Sorry, this got long!

[stylishanachronism]

Anyways speaking of Watcher Wednesday (and also I totally forgot yesterday was the first), I’m aiming to do something a little different this year for Inktober, namely rework some of my ridiculous sketches, one a day until I either find something worth working on, or hit 15 at which point I’m just going to roll a fucking die or something, and then turn whatever that ends up being into at least the beginnings of an actual painting. So uh, somebody might get fanart maybe?

Anyways we’ve got day one:

A weirdly proportioned Acantha (courtesy of @dreamerinsilico) sketch y’all have already seen. (I love her hair so much, I can’t even tell you, this would be a weird Baroque piece feat. a horror and probably too much background and then it would live in my UFO folder for months)

And day two:

An Adira (courtesy of @shimmer-like-agirl, behold I did find one!) sketch literally nobody has seen! (She has such an interesting face, holy shit, also the roundish blob is her lion but like.... I know fuck all about drawing lions, so it’d probably be like that horrifying taxidermy they removed from that one museum. Fun! But more horror, unintentionally this time.)

Anyways I’ll see y’all tomorrow with something... possibly not Pillars themed. It really depends on what I encounter first.

[aurumacadicus]

stuckony, twink tony and mob bosses stevebucky

love love Love your writing as always!

Thank you! Love you too!!

Anyway trigger warning for mention of date rape drugs (not between stuckony). Got kinda zesty at the end so it's tagged lemon but no actual sex. Tony's late-twenties btw he's just very bratty because he knows he can usually get away with it, he knows these boys are wrapped around his finger.

--

Steve and Bucky had taken Tony in after his parents had been murdered by Hydra. They hadn't wanted to, not really, but Peggy had been willing to pull every single favor she had with them--Hydra had people on the government's salary, and while she was trying to weed them out, it was slow going, so Tony would never be safe with them, even in witsec. Her only hope of keeping him safe was putting him in the hands of Hydra's enemies.

"I'll get down on my knees and beg, if that's what it takes. He's my godson, and I promised Howard and Maria I would protect him," Peggy had said, and Steve and Bucky had stopped fighting her, because she'd actually looked like she would do it, too.

Unfortunately, they hadn't bargained for a kid fresh out of college, too beautiful and smart and sassy for his own good and with a horrifyingly woeful lack of self-preservation. Tony blinked up at them with doe eyes when they tried to scold him, stuck his bottom lip out in a pout when they tried to tell him that he needed to be more proactive in staying safe, kept his body language lax and languid when they tried to intimidate him. He was probably the only person in the state completely unafraid of them, and he made sure they knew it.

"You're gonna make people think we're going soft," Bucky complained as Steve went over the report Natasha had given him on her deep dive into whether Tiberius Stone was Hydra or not. He looked Tony up and down like he usually did when he dragged him in from misbehaving and sighed the most put upon sigh he could. "Do you ever buy clothes that fit?"

"You are going soft," Tony scoffed, ripping his arm away from him. "And my clothes do fit. I was clubbing! Painted-on is the style!"

Bucky ignored him, reaching out to wrap his metal hand around the back of his neck instead and holding him still. Tony tried to shove him away again, but Bucky was immovable. "So? What's the verdict?"

"Not Hydra, but definitely an asshole," Steve muttered, scowling a little. "It's honestly impressive what a dick he is. You're lucky Bucky brought you home, sweetheart. Judging by his typical strategy, Stone probably would have drugged your drink and kidnapped you."

Tony scoffed. "You wouldn't have let him keep me long."

"No, but you know how much we hate having to teach civilians a lesson," Steve said, finally looking up from his desk. He narrowed his eyes as he took in Bucky's hand wrapped around the back of Tony's neck. "Is our boy being difficult again?"

"They were having an eighties night at the club and he shoved an entire bomb pop down his fucking throat," Bucky growled, and he shook Tony warningly when he started to look smug. "Should have taught him a lesson right then and there, but it wasn't one of our clubs."

"You like when I show off that I'm yours," Tony huffed, crossing his arms petulantly. "Everyone who looked at you afterward knew that I belonged to you. I should be allowed to have fun!"

Bucky slanted him a sharp look, then looked at Steve, rolling his eyes with a sort of defeated 'what can you do' shrug. "Kinda hard for them to not know you're ours when I basically dry humped you on the dance floor after. Shoulda just spanked you, if you were going to be bratty about it," he grumbled, mostly to himself. He dragged Tony closer to the desk. "Well, Stevie, what should we do with our boy?"

"That's not fair!" Tony exclaimed, offended. "All I did was deep throat a Popsicle!"

"We told you not to get mixed up with Tiberius Stone, and what did you do?" Steve asked, ignoring him. "Let him wine and dine you anyway." He began tidying his desk, putting the papers and pictures into a folder and setting it aside, moving his calendar from the middle. "Well, I suppose there's only one way to punish a brat. Bring him over, Buck."

Bucky towed Tony over obediently, ignoring the way he was squirming and shoving at him. "What's on your mind, babe?"

"Tony's going to bend over my desk and let me spank him until I decide he's had enough," Steve answered simply. "And if he's a good boy, I'll let you eat his ass right here. I'll even let you use my chair."

Bucky gave the back of Tony's neck a gentle but firm squeeze. "And if he's not a good boy?"

Steve's gaze went sharp as he turned it back onto Tony. He was unable to help a smug smirk as he watched Tony's cheeks start to flush with color. "If he's not, well... You were always the creative one when it came to punishments, honey."

"Hmm," Bucky hummed, thoughtful, and watched as Tony finally showed a smidgen of unease, because Bucky was even less likely to fold on a punishment than Steve was, and Steve rarely let Tony get away with it already. "I'm sure I'll think of something as revenge for the Popsicle," he finally decided.

[bridgertonbabe]

since we have pregnant!sophie hc's do you have any dad!ben hc's?? i'm under a strict belief that he is actually the disciplinarian of the two and sophie is the softie just due to her upbringing and not wanting to be hard on her kids, and benedict helped raise 6 younger siblings so he has it in him ahhahaha

I agree that Benedict is totally the disciplinarian out of him and Sophie but even then it's only when the boys (i.e. William) are particularly misbehaving or going against their mother's gentle requests to settle down. Alexander is the easiest to deal with as all Benedict has to do is say his name in a warning tone and his middle son immediately stops what he's doing. Charles is a little more difficult as he gets older purely as he wears his heart on his sleeve and is quicker to temper so they end up butting heads more. And as for William... well, it's William. Whenever there's noise in the house, it means William is up to no good, and whenever there isn't any noise, it still means William is up to no good. Benedict wipes the floor with him more than any of his kids; sending him to bed without dinner, having him stand in the corner with his back to the room, and one year even put a lump of coal in his stocking after his son had devoured the Christmas cookies the night before (William promptly burst into tears and Benedict immediately rushed to comfort him, telling him it was just a joke and giving him his presents).

But otherwise he's a fairly easygoing and gentle parent - like that small moment in S1 when he's at the breakfast table with Gregory and Hyacinth. He's typically very calm with his children and talks to them on their level, demonstrating his understanding for how they're feeling and being very diplomatic when he's mediating his children's differences.

I think it's also a general headcanon that Violet has her father wrapped around her little finger. She can do no wrong in his eyes, and to be fair she's genuinely as sweet and as innocent as her mother so she causes the least fuss anyway, but even on the odd occasion she's been a willing participant in William's mischief, she gets away with it scot-free while her brother gets the full brunt of Benedict's telling off.

When the kids have nightmares and run to their parents' bedroom in the middle of the night, it's Benedict's side of the bed they all run to to be protected by (except for Alex, being the mama's boy that he is). He always lets them hop into bed and snuggles them closely, stroking a hand through their hair and telling them he'll keep them safe, soothing them until they fall back to sleep.

The children like to join him as he's painting in his studio, enjoying the peace and familiarity of their father's workplace. Quite often they'll lounge nearby, daydreaming to themselves or watching their father quietly at work before nodding off. This occurs so regularly that Benedict has numerous paintings of his children through the years napping on the chaise-lounge and those works are some of his particular favourites of his children as they capture the peaceful innocence of their slumber.

[masterwords]

hold out the palm of your hand

Summary: Hotch & Max make a bet about kissing while working on a stage production of Romeo & Juliet.

Pairing: Hotch/Male OC - Max (first kiss)

Warnings: minor injuries, child abuse

Words: 4.3k

Notes: Written for @jaspxr - using the prompt from Bad Things Happen Bingo: First Aid Kit & teen Hotch + his tree house. I set it a few months after "how it feels to have a heartbeat" so if you haven't read that one...it's where you meet Max for the first time. In case you wanted to know that. If you see a prompt on the bingo card (at the end of the story) feel free to send it my way. I'm slow but I'm working on everything I've received!

Read on AO3: hold out the palm of your hand

**

Voices echoing through the auditorium reverberated through the stage beneath his feet. Teachers shouting instructions at rebellious teens who wanted nothing more than to go home. Be with their families. Eat some dinner, maybe even do their homework. Anything but sweat over the finishing touches of a stage production.

A tower was being erected in the middle, a balcony fit for a goddess and Aaron was painting twirling ivy the best he could with shaking hands. Not that he could do much better under different circumstances, but he was absolutely famished and his hands wouldn't stop trembling. It made for fun jittering leaves dancing their way up the sides of the tower walls. His teacher called it inspired, he called it dizzy.

“Hotchner!” It was Haley's chirpy voice and he squinted into the stage lights to see her golden hair and not much else. Too bright. Dust scattered like sparks in the sharp yellow rays and she was nothing but a shadow. “They want you to help load in the wood for the balcony!” He groaned, tossing his paintbrush into the bucket and narrowly missing kicking it over as he stepped over and around the canvas splattered in greens and reds and browns and grays. Years, decades maybe, of theater kids painting sets. He could feel the history when he stood atop those oiled canvas plains. Wondered which globs of dried paint went with which production.

“Out back, hurry.” She smiled at him fondly, tucking her hair behind her ear. Flirty, maybe because she knew he liked her, or maybe because she actually liked him back. That didn't matter much, though, because she had a boyfriend. Girls like her always had boyfriends, and they were never like him. He smiled back quickly, a little shy, and hurried past her without a word. Head down he walked down the corridor, dimly lit and stepping over cans of paint and tool boxes as nimbly as he could muster in his lightheaded hurry. It almost felt like being high, except he was stone cold sober. Just hungry. Dangerously so.

They handed him slats of wood, scraps of pallets given to them by Haley's father's store after deliveries, mostly. Jessica would drive his truck down to the school, open the truck gate, and make all the theater kids unload it while she watched with her arms folded from the top of the cab. Supervising, she called it, but he knew she was just waiting to shout at someone for scraping her dad's truck.

As if anyone could find a spot not already dented and scraped. The truck was a workhorse and it looked it. She just liked to bark at people and be in charge. He couldn't fault her for that.

“Hotchner!” Jess called down to him while he grabbed an arm full of the wood. “You look like shit!” She grinned and he squinted up at her, shrugging his shoulders in a way that said so what?

“What's new?” he asked her and she laughed.

“Fair enough.”

Three trips it took, hauling wood and joking now with Max who had joined the group of kids unloading the packed back of the truck. Most of the wood was junk, they'd never be able to build out of it. Shitty old pine spray painted with blue streaks, nails and splintered bits hanging out dangerously. The kids would loot the pile later to make a bonfire in the woods for one of their keggers, they always did. “She wants to kiss me,” Max said, nodding toward Jessica. “I can see it in her eyes. She definitely wants me.”

Aaron laughed hard and deep. “Yeah. I bet that's it.”

“You don't think I could get her to kiss me?”

“I think you'd have better luck trying just about anywhere else...”

“You got something specific in mind?”

Before Aaron could answer with something clever or cheeky, and he really had some good ones in mind, the toe of his boot caught on the step and down he flew face first. It was so fast, the way his vision had blurred, whited out completely just in time to miss the step. It blinked back in just before he hit the ground. The boards he was carrying flew out of his arms and he narrowly missed impaling himself on a rusty old nail. “Fuck,” he gritted his teeth, struggling to sit upright, to brush himself off. He didn't even want to know who had seen him face plant.

It was bad enough that Max had been right there.

“You alright?” Max asked, a look of real concern on his face. Aaron blinked stupidly for a moment and nodded.

“Yeah, sorry. I missed a step.”

“You missed more than one step, dude. You missed all the steps. You sure you're okay?”

It was humiliating, but it wasn't the end of the world. A few scrapes on his palms and the rest of the afternoon he could feel Max's eyes burning holes in his back. Like he suspected something was wrong. Aaron went back to painting once the wood was hauled in, back to the safety of his gray green ivy that flickered and jumped around in front of his bleary, exhausted eyes. He hadn't slept at all the night before, something was eating at him and he couldn't figure it out...whatever it was just held him wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Missing breakfast to avoid his father in the kitchen wasn't anything new, but working in the library through his lunch hour had been stupid and he was paying for it now. Clumsy steps, shaking hands, blurry vision.

There was an apple in his backpack, a huge juicy green apple. He was salivating just thinking about it but he had a job to finish and he was behind after the incident with the wood so he pushed through. Opening night was barreling down on them and this balcony was the most important part of the entire production. What was Romeo and Juliet without their balcony? It had to be perfect, his ivy would frame Haley's Juliet in majesty and Max would adore her from afar...it was too important to worry about taking a snack break.

He heard stomping sounds and glanced up beneath the thick curtain of his hair to see Max nearly nose to nose with him, standing on the balcony, nearly smearing his freshly painted ivy. “You were about to say something earlier...you know, before you face planted on the stairs? Very cool of you, by the way.”

Max's breath smelled like cinnamon gum and made Aaron feel faint. “Huh?” Feign ignorance. He was focused on the painting. Max wasn't buying it.

“You don't think I could get anyone at this school to kiss me? Anyone I want?”

Max had a certain amount of confidence that came with his don't give a fuck attitude. He was probably not interested in anyone at the whole school, and he definitely didn't play by their rules. No clique could lay claim to him, not even the burnouts who met for their secret meetings beneath the bleachers. He occasionally joined them, bummed some smokes or a joint, but he wouldn't commit to being part of their pack. The theater kids liked to think he was one of them, but he just needed the extra credits to graduate...the closest he got was simply being Aaron's friend.

“I don't think you could get a single person to kiss you.” Aaron said it, but he didn't mean it, because he knew just about anyone would say yes. Even him.

Especially him, if he was being honest, and he was barely able to be honest with himself most days. But this was real, this was true. He'd been thinking about kissing Max since he first met him and something lit on fire inside of him. Had been burning ever since. There was something dangerous about being so completely enamored of a boy like Max who could up and leave at any minute without ever looking back. A congregation in need was all it took, and those were just about everywhere you looked. Sure, they had one here and that was what kept them but Aaron knew they wouldn't put down any roots.

They'd be gone before Max graduated, even if he was trying to rack up credits with a plan. It didn't matter.

“Wanna bet?”

Aaron grinned and they shook on a small bet, and their hands were both sweaty but their eyes locked for a little too long. Aaron would have gladly handed over the five dollars he bet right there if Max would kiss him on the spot.

He ate his apple on the walk home, slowly ambling down the last of the dirt roads that would lead to his house. Stopping to dig a hole and bury his core, he peered down the hill at the creek and the little trailer park to see if he could spot Max up on his roof smoking. He could usually catch him, and it was a simple little wave from the road and a pop in, like he wasn't hoping for it, it was just casual. But not today, Max wasn't up there today so he pushed the dirt over the top of his apple with his still shaky hands and continued on his journey home. With any luck, his father's car would still be gone and he could at least grab something to eat, a piece of bread or something without having to spend more time inside of that house than necessary.

Looking at his father since discovering his secret was nearly impossible. It was like a ticking time bomb, he was just waiting to see the grim reaper standing behind his father, scythe at the ready. He hadn't said a word, not to anyone aside from Jessica and Max, but the way he stared hard at his father and kept his distance was impossible not to notice. His mother had been at his throat more than once, asking him what the hell he thought he was doing. “You don't even eat at our table anymore,” she'd scolded and he rolled his eyes and huffed about having too much homework. “All you do is steal food from my kitchen and spend all of your time in that damn treehouse. I'll have your father tear it down.” Well, now he had to eat at her table or stand to lose the most important thing he had. His escape. He had no faith in his father's ability to tear down a treehouse at this point, but he'd find a way to take it from him anyway.

Dinner was on the table when he walked in, and there was his father blistering mad at having to wait for his insolent son. It was only words, though. That was all he could manage, and words stung but they weren't as bad as fists, that was all Aaron could think when he sat down and apologized for being late. “We're behind schedule on the set, I had to stay later to make sure the balcony was done.”

“And now we're all eating cold chicken,” his father spat, slamming a pile of congealed mashed potatoes onto his plate. He sliced a slab of butter and plopped it right on top, staring hard at Aaron while the butter refused to melt.

“I'm sorry.”

Sean had no trouble tearing into the food the minute prayers had been said, but his father was still just staring hard at him. Cold blue eyes spitting flame. “Pass the corn,” he growled at Aaron. It wasn't the worst dinner he'd ever been through, but it was unpleasant and all he could think about was the tree house. He just had to get through his chores and he'd be free. Clear and wipe the table down, wash the dishes and then he could grab his sleeping bag and sleep under the stars.

“We won't wait next time,” his father snapped from behind him, dropping his dishes into the sink with a clatter. Aaron didn't look up from his washing, scrubbing the plates clean of debris and placing them gently into the drainer. “You understand me boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Aaron said quietly. There were plenty of words he would have liked to lob at his father, but this was the only way out. The only way to get through this without causing a scene in front of Sean who was seated at the table drinking a glass of milk and coloring something for his teacher. In a flash, so quick he didn't even see it coming, his father's hand was on his shoulder, huge bony fingers that could still grip shockingly tight pressed into his coiled muscles and tight ligaments. Aaron froze, dropped the sponge into the dish water and held in his breath. He never looked up. That would be confrontational and it was the last thing he wanted.

“I don't like your tone,” his father huffed, already slightly out of breath by the exertion but he didn't stop digging the tips of his fingers into Aaron's painful joint. Finally, when his strength was nearly finished, he had a decision to make and Aaron was sure he knew what it would be. He braced himself, squinted his eyes and waited for the open palm across his face. A classic move, tough but simple. Instead, he felt himself being hurled backward through space toward the dinner table. Toward Sean sitting there coloring, humming the Sesame Street theme song to himself. He scrambled, tried to get his footing while his father stalked out of the room but there was no use. For the second time that day, he was landing face first on the ground but this time there would be blood. He saw it first in Sean's now spilled milk, dripping crimson into white, swirling as he struggled to catch his breath through his mouth. His nose was bleeding and he was momentarily suffocating, choking on his own blood. It was only panic, sucking in breath after breath angrily, until he got hold of himself...if for no other reason than that Sean was watching. He pulled his sweater sleeve down over his hand, bunched it up in his fist, and pressed it to his face quickly before Sean could see. It barely hurt anyway. He was just angry.

“Oh, Aaron, what did you do?” his mother asked, dropping to her knees with a towel to sop up the mess. “You never know when to stop do you?”

He didn't do anything, he knew without a doubt that he didn't. He was doing everything by the book. Everything that would normally have meant a nice quiet evening. A quick warning, some kind of alpha male bullshit, maybe a puff of his tail feathers...not this. This was unexpected and new and Aaron was practically vibrating with rage. His father had to know he was in on the secret and that tension was building rapidly. It would come to a bigger blowout than this before long, he knew it now.

“I'm sleeping in the tree house,” he muttered through his busted lip and stalked out of the kitchen quickly, before Sean could see. Maybe someone would survive this house with some dignity. Let it be Sean, he prayed nightly. Please let it be Sean.

But keeping it all from Sean required so much extra work that he was exhausted day and night from the production. No wonder he'd gone into theater. It was too easy.

He wasn't in the tree house long before Max was popping his head up through the entrance, his features golden in the twilight. “Hey loser,” he said, announcing his presence. First came his backpack, tossed up through the hole in the platform, and then came the rest of him. Aaron turned away from him, his sweater covered hand still covering the blood in his lip. His nose had stopped, but the lip just kept breaking back open every time he breathed or moved. It was maddening.

“Woah,” Max said, eyeing the blood soaking his pea green sweater. “What'd you do, pick a fight with the ground again?”

“It's fine. Just an accident.”

Max puffed in disbelief while he rummaged through his backpack that smelled like pickle juice and cigarettes until he found what he was looking for...two ice cold cans of Coca-Cola. “You steal these from the vending machine at the 711?” Aaron's face may have been a mess, but he couldn't help himself.

Max laughed. “No. I bought them, thank you very much. I did steal the smokes though.” He offered one to Aaron, and under normal circumstances he might take it and light it up but he didn't think it sounded very good with his face all busted up. He didn't smoke, not really, but in company it felt like the thing you did...everyone pretended to smoke and secretly hated it. Except Max, he had this James Dean thing going for him and Aaron suspected he really did like it. Would probably keep doing it, maybe for his whole life. But he also had that doomed sort of feeling to him like James Dean too. Max was a spark, not an ember. He was not going to get old.

“Thanks.” It was all Aaron could think to say as he pressed the ice cold can to his throbbing lip. Not exactly what Max had intended it for, maybe, but it was doing wonders. Regarding him in that serene quiet way Max had, Aaron could tell he was putting things together. He wasn't stupid. He lived just down the hill, sounds traveled...everyone in town knew anyway. You couldn't hide a thing like this in a town this size.

“Your nose is broken, like you could afford for that beak to look any worse, but that gash on your chin is gnarly,” Max said finally, pulling a small black tin from his bag. There was a skull and cross bones etched on the front, messy and definitely a home job, not professional in the least. Inside there were band-aids, a little bottle of alcohol, some gauze and a dirty tube of antibiotic ointment. Aaron couldn't help smiling. “What? Standard issue missionary stuff...my dad makes all of us carry first aid.”

“The jolly roger standard issue too?”

“'Course. Didn't you know we were pirates?”

Smiling hurt, but Aaron couldn't help himself. It was only a moment longer before Max had his chin in his hands, wiping at the blood with gauze drenched in rubbing alcohol that stung worse than the original injuries. He held still, though, didn't move a muscle. Hadn't even realized his chin was bleeding too. Max swiped at his nose first, then his lip and finally the gash on his chin before pressing a glob of ointment against it and covering it with a big band-aid. “There. You look like such a dork.”

“Thanks.”

Max, with his dishwater blonde hair hanging in a sheet over his face, looked almost absurdly angelic in the falling sunlight. There were wisps of gold in his unwashed hair that caught the rays in a way that Aaron felt almost blinded by and he turned his eyes back to the cold can in his hand. Coca-cola Classic, not New Coke. His dad liked the new formulation, he said it was better with Jack Daniels. Aaron didn't trust anything his father said about food, the man liked sardines on crackers for breakfast. “Protein, son. You should try it some time. Put some meat on those bones.” The smell about made him gag while he heated up the milk for his oatmeal. “I'll pass. I don't wanna smell like a fisherman all day.”

And so it went with them. Some days were insults lobbed back and forth, some days were hell on Earth.

“Hey...” Max said, bumping Aaron's shoulder. “I got an idea. I know who would kiss me.”

Aaron scrunched his broken nose and he couldn't bring himself to meet Max's stare. Without thinking, Aaron swiped his hand out to the side until he managed to steal the cigarette right out of Max's hand. Drawing an agonizing drag on it, he felt it burn up into his broken nose and fought back tears. He hated it, but he made his choice.

“Don't you wanna know?” Max asked, taking the cigarette back almost indignantly, like he wished he'd never sparked it in the first place. Aaron shouldn't be smoking. This shit was corrosive and he was so...impressionable. Pure in ways Max could never be, not after the life he'd lived. Max stubbed it out on the toe of his boot and sighed.

“You wanna run some lines?” Aaron was the king of deflection. No he didn't want to know who Max thought he could get a kiss from because if it wasn't him...he simply didn't think he could take it. Not after the night he'd had. He would need a little more time to recover from that.

“No.” He paused there and gulped his cola to get rid of the starchy thick feeling in his mouth. “I'll kill your pops, you know. I ever see him lay a hand...”

“Don't say that.” Aaron's chest felt tight . “Don't ever say that.”

“Why? You don't want that bastard dead for what he does to you?”

Aaron swallowed thick and miserable. He wanted to tell Max the truth...he didn't want him to go to prison on his behalf. That was absurd. But Max seemed to understand anyway. They fell silent for a minute and Aaron settled back against the railing, fumbling with the sticky cuff of his sweater. The blood was drying slow in the humid evening air.

“So about that kiss. Cos I need five bucks...but before I say anything...” Max started, hugging his knees to his chest. The temperature was dropping quickly and he was really hoping to get this over with so maybe Aaron would unzip that sleeping bag he had rolled up and maybe they could share it. If this worked out, anyway. Otherwise he'd be hoofing it back home with his tail between his legs. “You and Jessica...you're not...”

Aaron frowned. It was a simple, visceral reaction. “No....ew, no. No.”

"Oh...” Max whispered, reaching out slowly to hold Aaron's hand. First grazing the knuckles with his fingertips, then curling his fingers around the entire thing gently. He wasn't surprised, it probably would have come up by now in the almost year that they'd all been friends. They'd been fast friends, but maybe not good friends...he ran lines with Aaron for whatever play they were mixed up in and he went skinny dipping and smoked weed with Jess. In the summer they'd been thick as thieves but now he was living two separate lives, one for each of them. Strangely enough, he hadn't ever bothered to suss out the nature of their friendship. It was obvious Aaron had a big crush on Haley, he got those cartoon heart eyes when she walked by...but she had a boyfriend, she was no threat to him. In any case, he'd almost been banking on Aaron and Jess having some sort of history, like it was a safety net. If he said yes, he and Jessica were a thing or even had been, he wouldn't have to be brave but now overlooking the thin little stream flowing along the frosty bank, new rocks tumbled down from the mountains and exposed for Sean to play with...he was dumbstruck. He stared at Aaron's hand in his and finally his features melted into an easy honey smile behind his wash of long hair. First he pressed his warm palm to Aaron's, the sizes so similar but starkly different. Max's hands were lean and elegant in shape while Aaron's were blocky, solid.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand...to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” Max's voice was tender, without any of his trademark sarcasm. Aaron's breath caught in his chest, and he'd always considered himself pretty clever, but he hadn't seen this coming. It took him a moment of complete and utter blank staring to parse the act, the line, before he was able to find his voice.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much...which mannerly devotion shows in this, for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.” Aaron knew every line in the play. He knew the whole thing inside and out, he could sub in for anyone at any time. He wasn't the best actor on the stage but he'd never suffered stage fright and he was as willing to put on a dress as he was to wield a sword in the name of theater.

Smiling, he felt Aaron's fingers twitch beneath his and he slowly brought that hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss there. Right against the quickening pulse beneath the thin skin on his wrist.

Aaron, flushing, started to laugh nervously but Max's hand was on his shoulder, then cradling his neck and pulling him in close. He started to quote something else but Aaron shook his head, he was done with Romeo. He had no interest in kissing Romeo, that was for Juliet.

He only wanted Max. Even if it was going to cost him five bucks.

[ratcandy]

Subcon Forest Analysis

Hi everyone I'm here to spill my aggressive overflowing thoughts on Subcon Forest and what it represents because it's been driving me insane since I finished the Sleepy Subcon time rift. Okay let's go. Obvious spoilers for AHIT ahead so proceed with caution.

This is also very, very long.

Disclaimer/warning: I will be discussing abusive/unhealthy relationships in this analysis. I mean. Vanessa. Come on. Also, there is a section on the nooses, and that delves, of course, into mentions of suicide. It will be sectioned off and easily skipped, but if you'd rather be safe and skip the entire post, that's completely understandable! Please stay safe. <3

Alright. Main point to be had here:

Subcon Forest is a giant extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character.

You all get to now listen to me spout nonsense about metaphors and symbolism because I'm a sucker for analysis and I'm given an opportunity to go ham. So perish.

The Ice

Let's start with the most obvious and most glaring thing in Subcon. The ice. It's everywhere. Not just outside Vanessa's manor, either; no, it's throughout the village, too. Shows up in the well and in random locations sprinkled about. When it comes to literal plot, we know that ice is just what lingers after Vanessa's wintery curse on Subcon. But going deeper and analyzing the meaning behind it?

Well, let's look at this from the perspective I've suggested. Subcon Forest being an extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character. A symbol for Vanessa then litters his mind, enough where it's certainly noticeable at first but blends in more easily once more of Subcon is unlocked to Hat Kid. This is clearly meant to be his lingering trauma, whether or not he wants to acknowledge it. Which he doesn't, as he never mentions it directly in his forest (that I can recall). Her influence plagues him, as to be expected with the traumatic experiences he went through with her. Breaking the ice is something Hat Kid must do in order to fulfill the wishes of the Fire Spirits (another subject I'll get into shortly), which, if self-indulgently playing with the found family idea, could mean that Hat Kid is helping him heal; if indirectly. Even if fulfilling the Fire Spirits' wish to die is... counterproductive, in that measure, which I'm now getting ahead of myself so hold on a sec!!

Vanessa. Ice. Everywhere. Traces of it all over his forest. That's the effects of an abusive relationship! Especially in a worst-case scenario where... yknow! One party in the relationship dies! So of course ice would be everywhere.

In and of itself, ice is a common symbol in literature and other forms of media. In this case, it's presented as an antagonistic force; emphasis is placed upon freezing and the harm that comes with it. The cold is unwelcoming, threatening, merciless. Snow can act as an insulating force, at least, but ice cannot. It can only make things colder.

A slight stretch: Seeing as this game deals a lot with time shenaniganry, I'm not sure if it'd be too out of left field to connect "freezing" with the theme of time. Yknow. Frozen in time. Both parties here, Snatcher and Vanessa, would be in this frozen state. One largely repressing it and never fully moving on, and the other doomed to her isolation ever since the event in question. They never moved past that moment after the Prince and florist's interaction.

The Fire Spirits (& the Portraits)

I'll put a slight warning here for suicidal ideation, if only because... it's the Fire Spirits we're talking about. It's not as grossly in-detail as the noose discussion will be, though, so make of that what you will.

To me, the Fire Spirits are a very interesting case. After all, they're fire. They're a direct contrast to the ice, thus being the only thing we're shown that could potentially melt it. The Fire Spirits, in my opinion, represent hope or a strength to continue. A strength to move on after troubles of the past.

...And that hope wants to die.

The Fire Spirits wish to burn out, to leave this mortal coil and abandon the forest to the cold. They make no effort to melt the ice, they simply dance, blissfully ignorant towards their surroundings. This being a metaphor for Snatcher's own hope for moving on is made all the more obvious by the fact he wants them gone. The first contract is to kill the Fire Spirits, to kill the hope. Perhaps he believes that sort of thing to be fruitless or naïve, so it only clutters his mind or has him foolishly optimistic at points. So, get rid of it. And the hope is happy to oblige.

(That, or their willingness to leave the forest to its own suffering and not aid in the ice's thaw angers him. Besides the whole "bark bark growl I can't get to parts of my forest because of them!!" which... also could represent a naïve hope clouding his judgement, not allowing him to see a bigger picture. But hope can't all be lost if one wants to move forward...)

A little side-tangent now on the portraits! And it's another slight stretch but the idea is in my head and I can't let it go. Portraits are another common symbol, usually being a physical representation of a memory or idea. For our purposes, let's say they're memories. I know in canon they appear to just hold souls captive or something but for now we're just Ignoring That(tm). The Fire Spirits have to burn the portraits to disappear. See where I'm going with this, maybe?

Instead of handling bad memories (or perhaps memories of the past in general) in any healthy manner, Snatcher chooses to forget/repress them, which just allows his hope to progressively die out.

I'm really hoping this is making sense because it makes a lot of sense to me but I might be insane rn

The Fact that this is a Forest

Forest symbolism breakdown! What's a forest usually mean in literature? "Traditionally, the forest has come to represent being lost, exploration and potential danger as well as mystery and 'other worldliness'." Okay. Yeah. Fair enough. That certainly works with the whole aesthetic we've got going on. Wood usually is life, growth and strength. But the trees of subcon are all dead. So what about that? It stands for death, big whoop, very spooky, we know Snatcher's dead and so are the children, yadda yadda wowie wowie. But. :) The trees in Subcon look a lot like trees that were scorched in a forest fire. Don't believe me?

(You could also argue they're just regular marsh/swamp trees bUT SSHHSUUHSH HANG ON HEAR ME OUT LOOK LOOK,)

What I believe to have happened was a controlled fire to rid the forest of the majority of its ice and snow. Likely done by Snatcher. It leaves behind a very desolate, depressing, barren scene... but. What else do dead/burnt trees symbolize? Rebirth. After all, controlled fires happen to make way for new trees to take the place of old ones. Some trees only drop seeds in fires/hot temperatures, so new ones take root and begin anew. Weird. It's almost like... I dunno. Snatcher was given some sorta second chance, given he's not just a corpse in Vanessa's cellar. So were the subconites. Another life given then by Snatcher. All connected I tell ya!!

Generally, aside from that, forests have many connotations. Mystery, isolation, claustrophobia; a place to dwell on regrets, or the past; to worry over one's future; to seek escape from or escape inside of... hmgmrnmm!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Nooses

The t/w is given at the top and another cut-off point will follow the bottom of this, for those that would like to skip. This will delve into talk of suicide and abusive tactics used by abusers. Please don't read if it will upset you or make you feel unsafe!!!

Personally, I cannot stand the nooses, but that's just due to my own triggers. Were there a way to hide those from the game or replace the damned talking ones with anything else. I would take it. In a heartbeat. But I can still appreciate the potential analysis to be had with them. So now i'm gonna talk about it despite how uncomfortable it will make me to do so. yEa

So, what about 'em? There are three types of nooses seen in Subcon. At least that I remember but I didn't really go looking for them. Empty ones, ones containing empty subconites, and the talking ones.

Nooses in general obviously can hint towards suicidal thoughts or behaviors of the characters that interact with them. If saying Subcon is Snatcher's mind, it could suggest that he suffered from some sort of suicidal thoughts in life (or currently, if second death is possible... or if he never truly died... or maybe he's trying to figure that out...which has given me... a separate idea...uh oh). But. And hear me out. Different perspective.

A talking noose. I hate them with a fiery passion that is unmatched. But think of the packed symbolism of a noose that talks. And think more about what it says. "I wouldn't mind being strapped around a cute neck like yours." "Be careful now, I don't want to see you meet a miserable end anywhere, but with me." Oddly, a lot of what the noose says seems almost... endearing? One could argue it's a way of luring someone to put it around their necks, which in and of itself is a whole lot to unpack when it comes to suicidal thoughts beckoning one forward; painting itself as something romantic, almost. But. Here's a wild idea, now. What if the nooses, at least the talking ones, are another symbol for Vanessa?

They're tinted blue, after all. While Vanessa's scheme is more red, one could argue two things: One, ice. Blue. Ice. yeah. Or two, the fact that Snatcher's scheme is more purple. Blue and red... make... purple. So, for all we know, Snatcher's current state was a compound effort between suicidal thoughts and Vanessa's treatment of him. Perhaps he even found a way to put himself out of his misery before freezing/starving to death. (I know he has dialogue that argues against that, but... are we certain Snatcher would be the kind to admit suicide over freezing to death?... I don't think so.)

At any rate, a common threat by those in "control" of an abusive relationship is that of killing themselves should the other person not do as they desire. It's a cruel form of emotional manipulation to get their way, worse off if the other party is an empathetic individual. As a person who has been the empathetic individual in relationships like this... I would know. I've been here, unfortunately So, it's not completely out of the question to say Vanessa could've used some tactic like that, even before the whole... cellar ordeal. Did she? I dunno. I'm tossing ideas around. But if she did, the threats of such would sit around in the Prince's mind easily. Even if she has a reputation of not going through with it. It doesn't matter. That shit sticks with you forever, that scare, the potential of it ever being true, is horrifying and it ruins you. I'm projecting, Squirtle.

Still. A noose cannot hang itself. It has to have a victim.

...yea.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W PASSED -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Misc. Ideas

- The spiders: Aside from the usual things spiders can be chalked up to symbolizing - toxicity, alluring danger, just... general pain - I like the potential wordplay that can happen here. Yknow. A black widow. Say the Prince and Vanessa were married when one died. What would that leave Vanessa? A widow. ...She's red and black, too. Yknow. Like a black widow. HA wordplay is fun isn't it?

- Snatcher's tree: Love this place, love sitting in here. But not the point! The inside of Snatcher's tree is such a harsh juxtaposition to the rest of Subcon that it kinda throws ya off guard. After all, the dark, purples and blues then contrasted with the bright warm colors of the inside. Even the music switches over. The thorns outside aren't present indoors. Ohh yeah this is gonna be on the nose as hell but the Tree(tm) is 100% representing Snatcher's appearance/put-on personality vs. his truer nature. Spooky outside with thorns, foreboding, unwelcoming. Then the more comfortable interior. VULnerable. Have I even mentioned that the tree is HOLLOW I mean COME ON. The sturdiness of that tree? Nonexistent. He's not a sturdy guy at all no matter how he fronts

- Intrusions are unwelcome: Snatcher does not like the fact that Hat Kid sticks around in his forest. His personal space. His mind. In fact he tries desperately to get rid of her after their fight, not wanting her presence in his forest at all. He has no problem providing more contracts later on with the Death Wish thing, and he finds great entertainment in messing around with Hat Kid, so it's not just a weird sudden hatred he has for her; it's the fact that. After she's finished being useful, he no longer wants her around, lest she find some things she shouldn't find. Now he's just uncomfortable with her in his personal boundaries. Could just be a denial that she's helped him heal (breaking ice, stealing from Vanessa, being something interesting for his kids to interact with) or just not really wanting a child to get wrapped up in. All that. Most likely the former. Considering the amount of joke-hints he drops regarding his background during his Death Wish dialogue. I see you funny man, making jokes out of your trauma as a coping mechanism. Punts him

Annnd I think that's all I got, for now! I'll make an update post if I get any more sporadic ideas. If you read this whole thing, thank you!! and also!! Wow that was a lot!! Hell world. Please feel free to elaborate on any of my points or debate with me on em!! I'm always open to other ideas, just be aware that if I disagree I am not shy when it comes to debate hehehe, tho I won't be aggressive to any extent I prommy!!

Alrighty. goes to sleep goodnight

[mettywiththenotes]

there's ppl who theorize deku might have shared OFA w bakugou prior to the battle and now bakugou's giving deku explosion so he can get there faster by sacrificing himself :( your bakugou shigaraki death parallels post is my life line because i want bakugou to do st independent from the OFA plot but i just saw someone post a nana panel from ch. 194 saying "though one may fall midway on the path, you can meet them again within one for all!" so im scared again :( i just want bakugou to get up.

Same anon

I mean idk what to think about the whole Vestige situation. I'd say that theory about Izuku sharing OFA with Bakugou before the battle is something, but I just don't think Izuku would allow Bakugou to sacrifice himself like that. Also, it would mean prior to the battle, they knew things wouldn't go exactly to plan and that Izuku was going to be kidnapped or smthg. That something would interfere so they'd have to split OFA between them. If they did know that, then... why didn't they say anything to the rest? Warn them, yknow?

But even if they didn't know Izuku was going to be kidnapped, were under the assumption that they stick to the plan as is and shared OFA anyway, would that mean they planned to go against TomurAFO as sort of dual-wielding OFA between themslves? Fighting him together?

Which... sounds very similar to Heroes Rising. And Hori has said before that the Heroes Rising scenario was going to be the ending of bnha, but he decided against that. So idk if Hori would try that concept again

... Unless this war is meant to be the dual-wielding ofa Bad End where one of them dies with Heroes Rising being the Good End where they both live lol. which, oh god if thats true... but no I don't think it's something Hori would try again, I think he has/had something else in mind for this war

That Nana quote could be foreshadowing with this, BUT I like to think that quote is more foreshadowing for All Might and Izuku than anything else - that even if All Might dies, he's still right there with Izuku. I think Bakugou being a part of the Vestiges, "meeting again within one for all", is a good angsty concept (for all the angst and tragedy lovers out there), but that would just feel a bit of a miss for me with his character

Idk it just. it wouldn't feel right. It'd be good for angst, sure, but it would sort of feel like the equivalent of firing an arrow at a target and missing the bullseye by a fraction. Almost there, but just not enough to hit right

The only reason I can see Bakugou dying at all would be because Hori felt that was the only way Bakugou could redeem himself for everything he's done. Which would be stupid, but it is the only reason I can see Hori allowing him to die. I've already seen people saying Bakugou died as consequences for his past, but I don't agree with that and I honestly don't think Hori would do something like that

Cuz the Villains have done worse than Bakugou and are STILL here, STILL being set up to be saved, and are still painted as "we've done really bad things but we still deserve to have some understanding, we still deserve to be seen and heard"

If BAKUGOU dies, and he dies solely for the things he did in the beginning of the story, then I just couldn't see that as fair. I really couldn't. Sure, the Villains get to be understood and live (that is the assumption I'm making anyway), but this one kid who was a bully and has since corrected mistakes, apologized, has helped the protagonist and has gone through all that self-hatred just, what, DIES?

Nope. It just doesn't add up to me

I think Vestige Bakugou is a concept more suited for fics and such, cuz it's good for angst, but I just don't think it would be something that actually happens

Not entirely sure what to think about Bakugou sacrificing himself just so Izuku could get there in time. Like you, anon, I want Bakugou to do something independent from the OFA plot, because he's not just here for Izuku, you know?

Idk what the Vestige AM thing is about, tho I know it still does tie with the connection between Izuku and Bakugou, because it's All Might. BUT I hope that's the only thing about it; like, Bakugou is somehow visited by Vestige AM and then he lives ONLY because he was reminded of All Might's presence in his life, as well as Izuku's, then gets right back up and smacks TomurAFO or smthg lol

Idk if that's too much to ask for, but I can dream. Either way, bottom line is I think Bakugou's gonna be okay. The details about how he'll be okay? I'm not so sure. But I still hope he gets through it, and I do have a bit of hope that it won't be connected - or ENTIRELY connected - to the OFA plot

I guess as long as he lives, it'll be okay. I just want him to get up again, regardless of the how lol

I'm glad you like the Bakugou Tomura death parallels post 😊 I hope I'm right with that one, so Bakugou can survive but also I think the Reborn parallels would be really cool. Even as I was comparing them, that one panel of the boys rubbing their necks took me aback and still amazes me lol, just cause it looks almost alike. There's so many panels that are almost exact, if not in situation then in poses, so. I hope it means something at least

Thank you for the ask!

[thebadboyfanclub]

Lady Of The House Pt. 2 (Henry x Reader)

Heyyyyyy, so I finally finished this part, please let me know if you want to see more of this. Enjoy!

Part one

-

After the delicious breakfast Henry and (y/n) had he told her that they must attend a charity event that his brother was throwing. She always enjoyed those types of outings with him, she liked the attention and how Henry would proudly show her off and twirl her around the dancefloor, Henry always made her feel wanted and appreciated. However with that type of short notice, she was left running around her wardrobe room with Jennette and Angelina on her side, trying to pick an outfit, it wasn't like she didn't have any, but she always wanted to be perfect, the Cavill family had accepted her but not without difficulties, at the end of the day they all saw her as this little shiny toy Henry would dispose at some point.

"What about this? It still has the tag on it"

Angelina spoke lightly holding up the extravagant green gown Henry had bought her one day, she had mentioned her favorite designer so the next day Henry sent her 8 different gowns that he liked.

Angelina was new to the roaster, Jennette (y/n) quickly came to the realization that a few of the maids and butlers were giving out information about (y/n) to Henry's mom, she was a wonderful lady when (y/n) was around because she saw her as just a girlfriend and not the wife, so they swiftly got replaced. (Y/n) approached Angelina and let her fingers trace the fabric as she turned to look at Jennette.

"Isn't the slit a bit too much for a family event?"

"I think it's finally time for you to make this statement... miss Cavill"

(Y/n) giggled at the name, Jennette liked calling her that as a small joke and a reminder that she is now the lady of this house. (Y/n) was always a big personality but this life made her feel small and uncertain. She bit her lip before she started nodding to herself, Angelina smiled in triumph due to feeling accomplished with finding the dress for (y/n).

"Angelina help miss (y/n) put the dress on, I'll be downstairs if you need me"

"Yes miss jennette"

As (y/n) started to take off her robe to slip on the right dress, jennette walked out of the master bedroom and towards the entrance of the house, that's where Mister Henry was waiting for his lady. Jennette was curious about the reason he had asked to see her privately to talk about (y/n).

she wasn't worried about it though, Jennette had a good feeling about this since everyone could clearly see how madly in love he was with her, he had brought other women home in the past yet they were never introduced to the staff, they had remained anonymous visitors. She slowly walked down the marble stairs while Mister Henry was standing in front of a mirror, fixing his tie.

"You asked to see me sir?"

"Yes Jennette"

His tone of voice was light as a feather, kind and melodic as he finally rearranged himself and took his eyes off his reflection and turned to Jennette who was patiently waiting close to him.

"How's (y/n) been doing?"

"She is finally getting comfortable, Angelina has been helping with making her feel in charge"

Henry slowly nodded as a ghost of a smile on his lips. He remembered how scared she was in the beginning, how she would stutter while talking to the staff or some days she wouldn't even leave the bed until he came home. He could recognize how much she has flourished and rose to the occasion. He was so thankful when (y/n) started to smile while talking to him about Jennette, she needed an ally and now Angelina was another soldier

"I'm going to ask her to marry me"

Jennette gasped in a happy demeanor and started to clap fastly with her fingers while her palms remained together. Henry was aware how close the two of them had grown to become, Lady Jennette has been around his family since he was a young adult, when he first started getting involved in the "family business".

however all his brothers had kids and a wife, (y/n) was the only woman he could see a future with, just the thought of her with a big round belly made him feel all warm and fuzzy, he felt alive next to her and her presence never left his mind, he had a reason to keep living and working. As soon as he had laid eyes on her that night he stayed at the hotel she was working at he just had to have her, it was almost compelling

"Of course you can't tell her"

"I would never dream of such a thing sir"

Before Henry could speak he heard the door of his bedroom open, along with giggles that probably came from Angelina and (y/n). Both of them waited for her to turn the corner and appear.

(Y/n) felt his eyes on her as soon as she stepped at the top of the stairs. Jennette was smiling at the sight of her while Henry remained silent. Angelina helped her lift up her dress ever so slightly so she can take the steps down without a problem. You could hear her heels click on the well polished floor. Ever since she met him the look he gave her every time he saw her was addictive, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world when he gave her this intense look that scanned her body.

"If the slit is too much I can go change"

"You look stunning my love"

He reassured her and walked to her. His hands immediately found hers and her raised one to his lips to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles while never breaking eye contact. She smiled back and instinctively she filled the space between them so she could hug him, his cologne made her feel safe knowing that he was there was the most comforting idea.

After a few moments she pulled away but their hands remained intertwined. Every single time they had to attend a family event he could sense her anxiety, at any other gala she was right at home but when it came to his family she looked like a kid going through school exams.

"Don't be nervous love"

"I'm not nervous"

She quickly shot back in defense. She could tell that he wasn't convinced, yet he chose to let it go, acknowledging the fact that pushing her more would only do more damage than good. Her hair was down and styled to perfection, her make up was done to bring out her beauty even more, she looked like a true goddess coming to bless the mortals.

"Don't wait for us jennette"

"Yes sir. Have a good night"

-

The car ride was spent by (y/n) looking out the window while her one hand traced her necklace and the other held Henry's, he chose to silently support her. He could comprehend how scary his family could be for an outsider, of course they were nice when she was around but (y/n) was no fool, she noticed the quick side eyes and the few whispers when she turned her back, she only bit her lip and smiled for Henry's sake, as well as the fact that if she wanted to be in this family she had to outsmart them, she was aware that they acted like that because she was the girlfriend, as soon as Henry would propose nobody would dare to say anything, she would officially be a Cavill. It was a shallow reason but she just wanted to be recognized for what she was, a woman that all she did was fall in love.

As the driver opened the door Henry got out first and then he helped (y/n) get out, before she got the chance he slightly kneeled in front of her to fix the end of her dress that touched the floor. His gentle grace of his fingers from her calf that went over her thigh brought goosebumps all over her body.

"I love this dress on you"

"I think you will have to wait until we get back home to show me how much you do"

Henry's reply was to lean down and press a kiss on her naked left shoulder before offering his arm for her to take as they walked in the Mansion as a couple.

(Y/n) felt the awfully familiar tightness in her chest as they entered, people were mingling, the smell of cigars lingered in the air as you could see the smoke in the air, even though the staff had done it's best to open windows and keep the air fresh.

"(Y/n)!"

She heard a woman call her name at a rather enthusiastic tone. As she turned she saw it was Henry's sister in law Chiara. She was dressed in a black dress that was a bit more modest than hers, yet it complimented her delicate figure in such a way that made her look like the glamorous Hollywood stars back in the day. The brunette woman opened her arms and offered (y/n) a warm hug. (Y/n) hugged back, feeling grateful that the host was one of the people in this family that she actually got along with. Chiara had married into the family years ago, she was rather tall and very intimidating, she vividly remembered the story of how Charlie traveled back and forth from the UK to Austria just to get a date with her.

"You look exquisite"

(Y/n) complimented her, Chiara smiled as she gave an up and down look with a smirk on her painted lips.

"Same goes for you dear, the hawk is going to have a heart attack… love it"

Chiara and (y/n) had bonded over how tightly Henry's mother held the strings, Chiara was the first to pull (y/n) aside and warn her that she is like that with anyone however she is all bark and no bite. Many nights have been spent over the phone with Chiara giving advice to (y/n). They were so different yet they found comfort in one another.

"How are you Chiara?"

Henry joined in, he didn't care that Chiara forgot to greet him, quite the opposite he was pleased (y/n) was getting the attention she deserved. Chiara looked at him and in the meantime Charlie started to approach her from behind, (y/n) had to admit that even though she met Chiara while she was married she still felt like Chiara was a single woman, Charlie traveled a lot which Chiara had stated multiple times that it was the reason she was still married to him, she needed her space and craved time alone. So as one can assume that she wasn't really eager to have a baby either.

"I'm well, I'm surprised you guys made it. I thought you had to be in Scotland"

"(Y/n) is not fond of Scotland"

He simply responded. To be fair she thought it was a beautiful country but it was springtime and she wanted to go somewhere with a bit more sun. A waitress approached the two couples and offered champagne, Henry reached for two glasses and offered (y/n) one, Chiara and Charlie were already holding a glass.

"Here you go love"

"Thank you"

"Cheers, to another successful season"

Henry raised his glass while the others followed. As they clinked their glasses and all the group took a sip, the taste of the bubbly drink soothed (y/n)'s nerves, her shoulders started to relax and the tightness on her chest was little to none.

"Where's mom and dad?"

"Oh last time I saw them they were talking to our brother"

"We should go say hello"

"Alright, it was nice seeing you"

(Y/n) said before Chiara leaned in a bit to whisper in her ear "you got this doll".

(Y/n) giggled at her and Chiara just stepped back and gave her a playful wink. Henry's hand found the small of her back before gently guiding her away from the couple, the last glimpse she got off the couple was Chiara turning to say something to her husband as she flipped her long wavy hair back.

(Y/n)'s heart stomped so loud she started feeling the pressure on her ears, out of instinct she clenched her jaw and tried to mask her nervousness. Henry spotted his parents and walked to them, knowing well that (y/n) is already done with the situation and depending on how this goes they might have to leave immediately.

"Henry and (y/n), is so good to see you"

Henry's father, Colin, was the first to greet them with a kind smile on his face. Colin had always been nothing but kind to (y/n), which was surprising to her since she had stereotypically thought that the father would be the hardest one to crack. Colin hugged his son and then proceeded to take (y/n)'s hand and give a kiss on her hand.

"It's good to see you young lady"

"Thank you"

"How are you dear?"

His mother Marianne said before going in for a very forced hug, yet she was grateful they still had a civil type of communication especially around others.

"I'm well, how are you?"

"You've lost weight, I was hoping you would have gained some, oh you would look so cute with a little baby bump"

(Y/n) let out a nervous giggle, not knowing how to answer. They weren't even married, let alone have a baby, she wanted to have kids but she was still young and wanted to enjoy having henry for herself a little longer.

Henry's hand went from the small of her waist to wrapping around her as a way to bring her closer to him. He had heard this over and over again, the only difference was that to him they questioned if she was worthy to bring an heir to the family.

"Not yet mother, I still enjoy seeing her in these tight clothes"

"Henry we are still your parents. He is right Marianne, let them have some fun"

"I'm sure (y/n) can have fun but Henry you are not getting any younger"

(Y/n) was at the edge of just disassociate as her gaze started to focus on a vase behind Marianne. In any other case if this woman was a random stranger she would have popped off and started to insult her. The squeeze she received from Henry's hand pulled her out of her trace. She bit her lip as she tried to find the right thing to say, she wanted kids but the subject of babies was something they hadn't even discussed other than the cheeky comments during sex. The squeeze she received from Henry's hand was enought to bring her out of her trance and now the tightness on her chest was replaced by a fire of anger.

"You know last time you questioned my credibility as a potential wife, so this new situation of wanting me to get pregnant is at least a step"

"Honey I don't know what you are talking about"

"You do, we all do"

She hit back before downing the rest of her drink. Henry smiled in triumph, he was taken back by her boldness on one hand, on the other she held her own and showed the spark he loved to see.

"I think it's time for us to leave. I love you both"

Henry hugged both of his parents and his dad gave (y/n) another kiss on the hand, when she turned to Marianne (y/n) smiled and took her in for a big hug, making Marianne let out a small "oh".

"Water under the bridge… dear"

(Y/n) said at a lower tone before she pulled away and took her spot again next to Henry.

"Have a good night"

Henry said before taking (y/n) away from them. Henry's hand slowly slid from her waist to her bum, he didn't do anything he just let it rest on it. (Y/n) was smart enough to understand that this small change of movement meant that not only was he not mad she responded, he was turned on by her.

"You never seize to amaze me love. I'll call the chauffeur but we got 15 minutes before he arrives"

"Plenty of time to see what decor they have in the bathroom"

Taglist

@the-british-koala @little-smurf @twhstuckylover @angywritesstuff @angelcavill66

[jinhyun]

Omg I'm so behind on leaving you any comments about watercolor lately cus I have been so busy 😭 I think the last one I commented on was pre-make out?? Fair warning I cursed a lot while typing this one out 😅 it's a long one, so I hope you're ready lol. So here we go 😊😂

Dreamlike - are you fucking kidding me? 😭 Are you actually fucking kidding me right now? How dare you make me cry with how fucking adorably cute this was! Come here, lean in, you deserve a forehead smooch for this pure perfection! 😘 I loved sooo much about this that I had to go back and reread so I could make more specific comments and not be so vague 😅

the way he couldn't even focus and kept searching for y/n and like literally left Yerim to go get her a drink and instead ended up texting y/n because he had a mini freak out thinking she was making out with Binnie!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! The fact that he debated staying and hooking up after he already told her he was coming and then still left for her!!! Are you freaking serious?? And you still haven't figured it the fuck out by now Hwang??? How thick is this fucking kid 🙄 But the way he fucking smiled thinking about what his friends must have thought of him leaving the party... Stop it 😭 my heart is going to burst!!! The way smiled at her sleeping 😭🥰🥰🥰 the paint on her face and him finding it cute?! 🥲 Btw... What was the painting she fell asleep on, huh??? Hmmmmm 🕵️‍♀️🤔😏 was it maybe one of said Hwang Hyunjin?

Not you finally title dropping on us 😭 Title drops are one of my favorite ways authors do their little nod to the readers 🥰 That perfect moment of clarity for why it got named that way is like 🤌

The paint swapping deal, I see you foreshadowing (I hope lol) 😍 this is such a fucking intimate artist thing to do tho and I am dying right now! Just absolutely dying. I can't wait to see when this comes back up later 😏

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 The paint fight into the kiss!!!! 😭😭😭😭 What did you just jump into my dreams of how I want to fall in love again and just rip this right out of my brain?? Like this is movie material! Are you hearing me?!! Or drama worthy! I would watch this k-drama in a heartbeat! 🥰 But the neck painting... It was this ❣️ right? Or was it something else? Or is it a secret??! But the way you wrote the kiss 😭 my single ass was over here flailing around my bed like an idiot, kicking all my sheets to the floor. I want someone to kiss me like that 😅 lmao. But the phone buzzing breaking it up 😠😤 gdi!!! Y/n was having her moment!! I swear if it was Yerim interrupting again I'm gonna throw things. Probably just my pillow onto my bed, but I will throw it!!

I 100% expected them to go wash the paint off after they left the art studio, but please for the love of all things Shin Ryujin, tell me that they both walked back to their dorms covered in paint and at least 1 person saw them 😭 I need someone to know what they got up to and have seen the physical evidence 🥲 if you say no, I'm still gonna headcanon that someone did lol 😅💀💀💀

Overall, I loved it. I love you. I get so happy whenever I see you updated 😁 If you update during the day I just keep from reading it and save it as a nice little treat at the end of the day when I'm all comfy and cozy before I go to bed 🤭🥰 I hope you write more of these long written out sections for watercolor! but also no pressure to do so if that's not what you want to do with the story 🥰 I trust you! I don't trust your version of Hwang Hyunjin (yet 😏) but I trust you! 🥰

Snitch - coffee date!!!!!! But fr if someone got oil paint on my favorite sweater I might kill them. Even if it was because of a steamy makeout lol. Reasons why I only paint in clothes I don't care about ruining 😅

Omg not the group chat dragging him, lol he deserves it. Seungmin with the tea about the paint 🤭 puppies always get into the things you don't want them to find lmao. Felix freaking out over them making out is literally me. This was my reaction as well 💀 Changbin and Hyunjin in the made out with y/n club 😏 but Binnie still the only one that's... Well you know, you wrote it 😉 lmao

"stop gatekeeping my cutie" omfg Yongbok 😁😂 I love him so much 😭🥰🥰🥰😭

Tbf that is one fucking adorable picture of Ryujin, her smile is just 😍🥰

So in your head, who had the matcha and who had the chocolate?? Also omg those look sooo fucking delicious 😭 why are there no good cafes around me *sigh* I'm never gonna go on a cute coffee date like this 🥺

Ngl I love the way Changbin just slid in and confirmed the makeout in like no time, while also pointing out Hyunjin is treating her kind of special 🥰 it makes me nervous and excited for her all at the same time lol I love the like flirtatious fwb relationship y/n and binnie have. I know she's gonna end up with Hyunjin, but I still can't help wanting to see more interactions between those two, they're chemistry is so cute!!

Not Hyunjin getting jealous 😅 cute. "don't make me reach over the table and kiss you" 👀👀👀Do it, I dare you! lmao 😂💀 so did they kiss??? Hmmm????

Kicked Out - I left you comments for this one on the post, but I will just reiterate, my pillows are so fucking lumpy now 😭💀 I still don't trust him, but it was so cute how he got all worried about her getting kicked out 🥰 but also God I want some calbee honey butter chips now 🤤 I have never had that flavor but I love their plain chips so much, they are so yummy!! Also he indirectly tweeted about her 👀 so does that mean he doesn't care if the potential hookups see??? Hmmmm???? But also "it's different tho, there are no feelings involved" alright everyone together, ready? 🤦‍♀️

Faithful - 😭😭😭 How is Ryujin soooooo fucking cute 😭😭😭 it's not fair!! My poor bi heart can't take this. I need some warnings next time, I might lose my breath completely and just simply pass away 🥰 and the Pikachu is cute too, but now I just have Changbin's (actual real life Changbin) "pika pika Pikachu!!" stuck him my head in a loop lol, so thanks for that 😅

Hyunjin only day? Bitch if you don't calm the fuck down you might fucking realize you're a simp lmao 😅 it's okay tho, I'm a simp for Ryujin too 🥰 Not the whole gc inviting themselves over for dinner 😂 NOT HAN MAKING IT SOUND LIKE THE FUCKED 😭💀💀💀💀💀 also do I sense a merged group chat in the future??? 😏🤔🤔 "damn y/n, how many guys do you have" 😂😭💀💀💀💀 omfg because two is sooooo many 🥲 still more than me tho lmao

Ooooh Minho being the mom friend and representing all of us readers 😅 I'm so here for it. I hope for everyone's sake he is wrong. I really really do. I don't want to cry because of this story. I will if you take it that way, I know I will, but I won't be happy about it lol. Y/n, babes, it's not delusional, he has started to feel something. Unfortunately he's just a dumbass and he's probably gonna fuck it up before he realizes it 🙃 Minho I love you, but I hate that you have to be so realistic about the situation right now 😭 I am not ready for heartbreak. But also don't hate the implication that she could still hook up with Binnie. All the team Changbin readers just sitting here quietly chanting, "Binnie! Binnie! Binnie!" 🤭💀 lmao

So yay! I finally caught up on comments 🥰💙 I think that took me like an hour or so to type all that up 😅 but you definitely deserved it 👏👏👏 with how much time you must put into every update and how often you update, and how invested I am and how much I love this story, you definitely deserve an hours worth of comments 🥰🥰🥰 I'm looking forward to the next updates. I hope you don't decided to break us 😅 and if you do, I hope you plan on updating the next chapter right away lol. I don't think I could handle the angst and a long cliffhanger 😭🤧

Anyway, I hope you are feeling better 💙💙💙 I hope you aren't suffering from any long term effects from covid! I know you said you were sick on your birthday, but Happy Belated Birthday!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🥳🥳🥳🥳🎁🎁🎁🎈🎈🎂, hopefully you were still able to enjoy it! I hope you are finding ways to entertain yourself now that you've graduated 😊 and I hope you have a good day/night 🥰🥰🥰💙💙💙

AHHHHHHHH i'm sorry it took me so long to answer this ask, i was just... appreciating it 🥲

dreamlike~

please i'm so happy that you enjoyed dreamlike and took the time to go back to it just so you could point certain things out, it means the world to me 😭💕

for real tho, it couldn't be any more clear given how he could not focus and would only think of y/n the entire party, like come on hyunjin you're smarter than that 😭😭😭

y/n's painting and what hyunjin drew on her neck are both secrets 🤭 but who knows, maybe we'll find out at some point later in the story 👀

drama worthy please 😭 that is like the ultimate compliment 😭😭😭 and i'm glad that you enjoyed the title dump, ngl i love doing that in my fics lmao so thanks for appreciating it 🤧

"for the love of all things shin ryujin" don't mind me if you ever see me using that on a daily basis. idk i mean it was pretty late but maybe someone did see them 👀 campus is a big place after all

THANK YOU SO MUCHHH, i'm sososo happy that you enjoyed it :( and i do have more written parts planned out! some shorter and some just as long or maybe longer (i won't know until i write them lol) but there are more of them coming, so i'm glad you like them 🥰

snitch~

lmao for real y/n shouldn't have worn her fav sweater to paint to begin with, but in her defense she was knew there would be pretty much no one at the studio and she doesn't tend to get stained all over when she paints... and she was most definitely not expecting to have a make out session with hyunjin or anyone else that night so 💀

ksñajdñajs jinnie and binnie part of the kissing y/n club but jinnie not part of the s*x with y/n club, rip 😔

ryujin's smile i knowwww 😭 can't get tired of looking at that picture, i love her so much istg. in my mind it was y/n the one to get the matcha one... idk if hyunjin is a fan of it irl 👀 waiting for him to tell us one day lol

changbin's fwb relationship with y/n is so fun to write 😭 and you're valid lmao i remember there was a time even i started shipping them 💀 but i am loyal to hyunjin, we in a hyunjin au rn.

jealous hyunjin is just >>>>>>>> and it was kind of an open ending so 👀 whether they ended up kissing or not it's up to you on this one 👀

kicked out~

yesss, i remember your comment 🥰 he does worry about her and he's a cutie for that :(

omg i've never had those chips at all, i don't think we have them here ksñajs but they do look so good i wish i could try them

he did indirectly tweet about her 👀 ig we'll find out whether he is ready or not to let go of his potential hookups soon... hopefully he is

faithful~

DUDE FR IDK MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT EITHER 😭😭😭😭 i had not been this bi since kaya scodelario and hayley williams istg.

"bitch if you don't calm the fuck down you might fucking realize you're a simp" LMAOOOO the way i laughed omg jsñajdñs. he was bold af for that one tho, props to him 💀

merged group chat in the future... that does sound very interesting... we'll see if they all become that close at some point 👀

honestly at this point it would be better for everyone's sake and not just only y/n's for him to be wrong... let's hope he is so no one ends up hurt :/ and that hyunjin won't fuck up before he realises his fucking feelings. we'll see which turn i take with this story 😇 thanks for being open minded about it jsñaksña.

oof, hyunjin would not be happy if she still had the fwb thing going on with binnie... but yeah i can hear you all ynbin shippers cheering on it lmao

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR TAKING THE TIME TO COMMENT ON ALL PARTS OMG??? the dedication i'm just 😭😭😭😭 i lost count of how many times i've read this ask lmao, and i couldn't bring myself to answer it for some reason 🥲

like i said, we'll see what turn i decide to take with this story 👀 so i won't comment on that bc i'm afraid i could spoil you guys jdñajs

thanks for the belated birthday wish 🥺 it sucked to be quarantined during it but my friends and family have already made it up to me 🤧💖

once again thank you so muchhhh, i don't have enough words to thank you :( i hope you're havingg a great week, lovie 🥰

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Three

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Canon divergent during Chapter 13 of The Mandalorian, serious pining

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

The trip to Nevarro was hell. 

The Razor Crest now smelled like Baast, and after using his soap, their two scents had blended, and Din was going out of his kriffing mind. He'd taken to sleeping in the cockpit, having given up his cot, but it did little good. 

It was like the essence of her had invaded every part of his home.

He'd started having dreams. Dreams of a world with sand dunes and plains of long grass, where towering forests of old wood grew and swayed in gentle, fragrant breezes. He dreamed of walking the rock and sand trails of jagged mountains, of climbing steep cliffs to drink from sweet falls that appeared out of the clouds.

And when he reached his destination, a rocky outcropping high above the world, a cat leapt over the rocks to land before him. She was sleek lines and dense muscle, her coat tawny, darkening to black over her muzzle and legs. Long tufts of fur drifted in the wind from the tips of her ears, and green eyes watched him with a thousand years of ancient wisdom.

He knelt before the regal creature and pulled off his helmet. She padded closer, circled him once, sniffed him curiously, and began to purr. The rumble soothed his soul, and Din closed his eyes as her sleek, furry cheek rubbed against his.

"Mine," he whispered as he reached for her, waking himself from the dream every time.

By the time they landed on Nevarro, he was desperate for air that didn't smell like Baast. A few more parsecs, he may have done something stupid.

He met her at the gangway with a heavy cloak. "Put this on, draw the hood, and try to remain inconspicuous."

She arched a brow before handing over Grogu. The kid stuck to her like glue, eager to be at her side whenever he was awake. It was a relief to know someone else was watching him, but at the same time, he missed the kid's continual company.

Baast shrugged into the cloak and pulled the hood over her hair before laying her hand on his arm. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You have been distant."

"Just busy." He held out a silver bar roughly three inches long. "Extendable staff, at least until the Alor can get you those sabres."

She smiled at him, the light just catching her fangs. "Thank you, Mando."

He tilted his head but tugged the hood farther forward. "Let's go."

They'd landed well after dusk, assuring a quiet, uninterrupted trip through the streets. Those that lingered paid them no mind used to seeing the silver beskar of an unpainted Mandalorian.

The bar was fairing better after the fight with Moff Gideon. Walls had been repaired, and the damage painted over. 

He walked in and headed straight for the back booth, ignoring the eyes that followed. They knew better than to mess with him, and the music stayed lively.

Karga, however, wasn't alone.

"Karga. Dune," he stated, tossing three pucks on the table. 

"Only three, Mando? I sent you out with four," Karga teased. "Did a quarry finally escape the famed Mandalorian?"

"She's dead; body recovery was impossible."

He watched Cara's eyes flick to Baast and down to Grogu, a smile growing as she pushed from the table. "There's the little womp rat!"

Grogu squealed his happiness, but Baast growled.

The low sound set his hair on end, causing Din to step back, between the woman and his clan. "Cara, not now," he said, no explanation, not sure he had one to give. 

Baast placed her hand on the back of his neck, a place without beskar but covered by his cowl. Still, he felt it like a live wire jolt.

"Usenye!" Baast growled.

"Udesii," Din murmured, turning just enough to know he meant Baast.

"Whoa, someone's touchy," Cara muttered.

Mando didn't need this right now. The longer he stayed here, the more twitchy he felt, like something beneath his skin was itching to claw its way free. "Karga. If they ask, you tell them she's dead."

The man stared at him a long moment, assessing, processing before he gave a short nod. "I will log the information myself." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ingot of beskar. "For your trouble and the three on your ship."

"Where did you get that?" Din asked, picking up the ingot.

"Took it off some Imps after that last clean up." A second pile of credits, smaller than it should be, landed next. "Consider us even."

"Done," he agreed, hyper-aware of Baast's hand still light against his neck.

"And congratulations, Mando. It isn't every day a Mandalorian takes a riduur."

He felt Baast's fingers twitch but didn't correct Karga's assumption.

"You got married!" Cara gasped, loud enough to cause the bar to pause and look their way. 

One long stare over his shoulder had them minding their business again. 

"Baast'mal. Cara Dune, former shock trooper, now Marshal for the New Republic. Greef Karga, head of the Bounty Hunters Guild, and Magistrate of Nevarro."

"A pleasure," Karga grinned. "Is it true wives put off their armour when they decide to have little warriors?"

Baast snorted. "Di'kutla. Anade knows gar ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya."

Din couldn't help but chuckle. "She says, foolish. Everyone knows you train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger. My woman is all warrior."

The words slipped out, and he couldn't bite them back. Baast's hand dropped from his nape, but only to lower and slide in at his waist, sneak past layers of beskar and again find flesh barely covered. She pressed closer, a low rumble vibrating between them, and Din felt approval wash from her like a wave.

"Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil," she murmured, low enough only Din heard, informing him she didn't like it there.

He looked down at her, into the deep shadows of her hood as she clutched Grogu to her and found her eyes. This place had her on edge. With her Force sensitivity, he believed her, but he wanted to know why. "Tion'jor?"

"Too many bad feelings," she whispered. "There are hunters, many of them."

He gave a small tilt of his head. "Vaabir val olaror par gar?" he asked, wondering if they came for her.

A slight negative shake. "For news of the child."

Din was instantly enraged and leaned over the table toward Karga. "You're taking a bounty on the kid again?"

"What? No! Of course not!" the man cried in outrage.

"Mando." Cara laid her hand over his. "He hasn't, I swear."

Baast growled, causing Din to move his hand out from under Cara’s and block Baast in the same action. "There are hunters here for news of the kid. Get your cargo off my ship so we can leave." He swiped the credits off the table and turned to go, Karga already barking orders.

Din wasn't surprised when Baast's fingers snuck to the crook of his elbow. Or, he wasn't as surprised as he should be. A riduur walked where her mate could protect them and any children they might have. Her position kept her secure against him while hiding them behind a wall of beskar and weapons, handled by a highly dangerous predator.

"Mando, wait," Cara said, blocking their path. "Come to my place. You can rest, eat, and I can see the kid. I missed him."

Baast's fingers twitched. 

"Cara," he hesitated.

"Please. We're friends. Let a friend toast your good fortune."

Another low warning growl rippled from Baast when Cara touched his arm.

"She has nayc staabi!" Baast snarled.

Din looked down at her. "Technically, neither do you."

Her hand snapped off his arm like he'd burned her, shock and disappointment so profound it hurt, hit him like a rampaging mudhorn. 

She took a step in retreat, Grogu clinging to her, the kid looking just as devastated. 

What had he done? Kriff! Why would he say that?

"Baast!" he shouted but was too late as she spun on her heel and raced from the cantina. "Kriff!" he bellowed and gave chase, Cara hot on his heels.

"What the hell was that, Mando?" Dune demanded as they slammed through the doors only to find a deserted street. 

"Not your concern."

"Mando!" She grabbed him by the vambrace. She had no way of knowing how close he came to putting her through the wall. "What's really going on? Who is she?"

"You wouldn't understand. It's a Mandalorian thing." He shook her off and looked for Baast's tracks. 

It didn't surprise him at all when they went up a wall and over the roof.

Din took off after her, climbing as if his armour weighed nothing, leaving Cara behind to curse and swear. He followed long strides for some distance as she ran across roofs, finally leaving the residential district to head into a more industrial area. 

Again her tracks went up, and he followed, climbing the narrow ladder to the top of a tower that looked out over Nevarro. He found her there; knees pulled to her chest, the hood thrown back, clinging to Grogu as the kid did his best to stroke the tears from her face.

"Baast." 

She jerked but didn't move. "Go away, Mandalorian."

"I can't." He went to her and knelt, intent on taking her in his arms, only to have deadly claws close around his throat. 

"You have not the right," she snarled, her eyes piercing him through the beskar.

Grogu huffed and sighed, appearing at once both annoyed and exasperated.

"Nayc staabi. No right, that's what you said about Cara."

Baast snarled. "If you want the shock trooper so badly, have her!" she snapped, pushing him back with strength, causing him to rock on his heels.

"I don't, and she doesn't want me. She would be more inclined to go for you," he chuckled.

She blinked big green eyes. "Oh…" Her hand slowly relaxed until it lay on his chest.

This time when he gathered her close, she didn't resist. "Forgive me. I said something stupid."

"But true," she sighed. "You did not dispute the claim of riduur. I knew it meant nothing but got caught up in my role. You are free to do what you wish with whomever you wish," she sighed.

Din didn't think. He didn't plan his next move. It was like instinct demanded he act, and so he did.

"Baast. Close your eyes."

She did so without hesitation or question as Din stripped off his gloves. The helmet hissed when he released it, causing her brow to twitch. Before he took it off, he wrapped his arm around her and covered her eyes with his hand.

"Din?" she whispered, her uncertainty clear. 

"Trust me," he murmured, lifting his helmet free with his other hand. They were too high up for anyone to see, and the moons had yet to rise, leaving them bathed in shadows. 

Grogu cooed and sat down a few feet away, apparently content to let the adults sort this out on their own.

Din gave him a last look before setting his helmet down and raising that hand to lightly, tenderly, stroke her face. "I don't want just anyone," he whispered, unable to deny what was written in his heart. "Just you," he sighed and lightly brushed their mouths together. 

He'd never kissed anyone before, but he wanted to kiss Baast. 

***

Din woke with a jolt and a clang of beskar as he fell out of the pilot's chair and onto the floor. 

He lay there confused and disoriented until he realized the entire thing had been a dream. 

He groaned softly enough that it didn't leave the safety of his helmet and pushed to his hands and knees before sitting back on his thighs. This trip was going to kill him. The dream had been far too real.

He picked himself off the floor and looked up to find Grogu smirking at him. "Don't start."

The kid gurgled a noise that shouldn't in any way have been cute but somehow still was.

"Hungry?" Din asked.

Grogu waddled closer, arms up.

"Of course you are. When are you not hungry?" he chuckled, picking up the kid and heading for the ladder down into the belly of his ship. 

He was just getting Grogu situated when the door to the fresher opened, revealing Baast in nothing but a towel. 

She jolted in surprise. "I did not expect… you… I…" A bright blush bloomed darkly across her cheeks. Then, she straightened, lifting her chin like a royal, firming her composure. "You have not joined us for meals as of late. I did not expect you and have washed my clothing."

His mouth was desert dry when he attempted to speak, but no words emerged, and Din was grateful for the helmet that hid his gaping mouth. He stared for too long before stepping away from Grogu and his gruel toward Baast. She stiffened, hand flexing where she clutched the cloth closed, but the Zentari didn't back down.

Din moved with cautious steps to the crates piled against the wall and shoved two over before picking up the third and setting it down on top of the others. From within, he pulled out blue silks. "I have this if you want it."

A regal brow arched, her wet hair sleek and sticking to her now brushed the tops of her thighs. "Why does a Mandalorian have a courtesan's dress in his belongings?"

He flinched, having hoped she wouldn't recognize it. "Because an assassin dressed as a courtesan attempted to kill me, but not until after she'd taken her clothes off."

Baast eyed the cloth a moment longer before gliding forward to pluck it from his fingers. "Did she succeed in the seduction?"

"No. That's why she was naked. She made a poor courtesan."

"Hmm," purred from her as she walked back into the fresher, and the door closed behind her. "And you have simply kept it lying around?" she called through the door.

Did she sound jealous, or was he still dreaming? "It's not something a Mandalorian can walk into the market and sell without garnering a second look."

"You were not, perhaps, keeping it for your riduur?"

The door opened, and Din forgot how to speak. Blue silk fell in sleek lines from the golden band that bared the under curve of her breasts. She swept out and headed for Grogu, sailing past him, her damp hair leaving a dark stain on the skirt. 

"I haven't thought much about a riduur." Before now. 

He followed her like a Bantha would a Tuskin Raider, and when she sat to help Grogu with his food, Din came to a stop behind her. 

She looked up, but he knew the beskar made it hard for her to read him. "Is it that terrible? Do I not make a passable courtesan?"

"More than passable," escaped his mouth, his brain still malfunctioning. "But your hair is dripping."

"Wet hair does that," she teased him with a smile.

"May I?"

She blinked as he began to strip off his gloves. "Din?"

"Let me," he murmured, running his fingers like a comb through her thick locks. He sat on a crate and worked free what few tangles had formed before splitting the mass in half. He began the plait high, working it smooth against her scalp and down behind her ear. When his fingers brushed the pointed tip, a shudder raced through her, but a low, happy purr followed. He made it to the end and used a scrap piece of leather to bind the long braid. 

"How is it that a Mandalorian knows how to do a woman's hair with the skill of a maid?"

He froze, fingers full of sand-coloured silk. "My mother," he murmured. "I once did it for my mother."

Her hand closed gently on his knee, Baast reaching back, otherwise staying still for him. "A good memory, I hope."

"One of my only good memories," he murmured, finishing the section close to her skull and swiftly plaiting the rest. Once he tied the end, she turned to look up at him and left him breathless. 

He'd never seen a more mesh'la creature. Men would spend their entire fortune for one night with her. But Din looked at her and saw her dressed in the ornaments of a riduur. Beskar bands for her braids, the cuff that would circle her upper arm and proudly display the mark of the mudhorn, proclaiming her part of his clan. The beskar breastplate that would be hers the moment their first child was born.

"Then, I am pleased to help you remember it." She stroked one of the thick plaits. "I am happy to offer myself to your ministrations in the future, should you so desire to assist me again."

Vital portions of his anatomy tightened, causing him to rise swiftly and step away from her tempting allure. "We'll be in Nevarro soon. I'll see about more suitable clothing when we get there."

He climbed the ladder back to the cockpit, knowing damn well he was running away.

***

riduur -  spouse

Usenye! - Go away!

Udesii - Calm down.

Ibic taap, Ni cuy' bat Kyr'nakil - This place, I am on edge

Tion'jor - why

Vaabir val olaror par gar - do they come for you

 nayc staabi - no right

 ***

Next Chapter

[hgwellsmykabering]

@purlturtle tagged me in a little W13/Bering&Wells questionaire for her website - Thanks for thinking of me, and feel free to post my answers on there with my lilolilyrae ao3 URL, and/or this tumblr here!

How did you get into Warehouse 13/Bering and Wells? What do you love about the show/ship, what woke your interest, what kept it going?

I first watched Warehouse 13 with my family when I was about 13 - I think season 3 had just been released, and there were re-runs of the earlier seasons on TV, I liked it and got the DVDs for my birthday.

I shipped Helena and Myka from the start - and it might be the one and only popular ship that I got into without prior influence from fandom! While I already had a tumblr, I wasn't active in many fandom circles there, and I had never even heard of ao3 yet... But when I discussed the W13 characters and possible relationships with my parents, and my mom was like 'we may not like it, but Pete and Myka as the main characters will end up together, it's always like that' (curse you, season 5, for proving her right), while my dad suggested Pete/Helena and didn't believe me that Helena and Myka were the most shippable... well, I went online, found my first fanfiction, and felt Very vindicated at not being the only one to realize their potential! So really, Bering&Wells got me into fandom.

When did you start writing for them? Do you still write for them, or have you moved to other fandoms/ships? (no worries either way, it's absolutely fair to move on!)

I started writing for them back in 2016 with a College AU that I never quite finished (and don't have the heart to mark 'abandoned' but am honestly not sure whether I'll ever come back to), then only sporadically stayed in the fandom until I found some new Bering&Wells online friends some time last year, and I started writing for the ship again a few months ago.

What do you/did you like about writing for Bering and Wells? What motivates/motivated you to write for them?

Apparently, I have a ship-type of 'Women with a tragic backstory where one had to leave the other for a while', and, well... they just fit that perfectly.

Also, all the lost potential of canon! I do so enjoy fixing that.

What kinds of stories do you or did you write for Bering and Wells? Happy endings or sad endings? Hurt/comfort, plot fics, AUs, kid fics, fix-its, smut, …?

So far it's been short fics, mostly smut, but given that since I started writing for them again this year, I only wrote 3 new fics for the ship so far, I don't think that's much of a pattern yet xD we'll see! I definitely plan to write more.

Have you created or are you still creating other forms of fan art for Bering and Wells/Warehouse 13, like GIFs, videos, paintings? Do you wanna show it off (share a link)?

Photo posts on tumblr! I think I only made the one moodboard for Bering&Wells so far, but I am taking prompts for photo stories, moodboards and manips to all of my ships :)

Do you have a favorite story, or a story you’re proudest of, and would you tell us which it is?

...I'll link the one that isn't smut xD and I did get positive reviews on this!

The Grey of Memories, 1.5k, T, emotional hurt/comfort, no warnings. Tumblr | ao3

From the smut fics, my fav is And You Don't Need To Stay Silent on ao3, 5k, E, emotional loud sex in a newly established relationship

What do you/did you find easy to write for them; what is/was hard or challenging? Do you feel you have a good grip on the two main characters; is one of them more elusive than the other?

Well you see... It's honestly been so long since I last watched much actual W13 canon... So now when I think of the characters, it's all a mash-up of ideas from other people's fics, plus my own specific headcanons - and I honestly don't care to change that. (Insert that text post 'does fic really have to be in character? Is it not enough that I don't need to learn any new names?')

As for writing them to still be recognizable to people with different headcanons, I've found that Helena's old-timey British-ness and tendency to use the pet name 'darling' helps a lot, while I don't have any such tricks for Myka, so I suppose writing HG would be easier there.

What's your writing style? Planner, Pantser, Plantser? Do you work with a beta? Have you ever co-written a story with someone else, and how did that experience go?

I can write one-shots in one go, but for anything longer than about 5k, or if I just don't have the time to finish even a shorter story when I have an idea for it, I note down the outline and go through it later. I don't usually work with betas unless it is a fic written for a gift exchange.

What are your favorite kind of stories/story tropes for Bering and Wells, either to write or to read? What are stories or tropes that you don't like (or can't stand) to write or read for them?

While I'm not usually a fan of kid fics, with Bering&Wells I really enjoy stories that include Christina, especially in a fix-it way, but also in AUs.

For canon compliant fics, I like some good emotional hurt/comfort dealing with trauma - as they are going through a lot in the series, and canon isn't always perfect about dealing with the aftermath.

What are your favorite Bering and Wells stories from other authors/writers? What do you like about these stories?

One of the, if not the first fanfic I ever read is Time After Time by muppetmanda on livejournal, and it is still my favorite! A long timetravel fix-it for (almost) everything, NC-17, getting together.

Other great stories:

Transient by tantedrago on ao3

Warnings: Major Character Death

38k, M, a Ghost!Helena AU

Lots of lovely angst, how Helena and Myka start to interact and get close is beautifully written.

Trapped (aka oh my god, they were roommates) by paddingtonfan69 on ao3

11k, M, deals with the 2020 pandemic

The title says it all! This is a quarantine AU with Myka and Helena as college professors, getting together while stuck in the same appartment and competing for the same job. I love the premise and I adore where the author went with it.

Only for tonight by Numo on ao3

76k, E, bigender H.G.

HG and Myka get together despite many dificulties with each other and the Warehouse regents. I also really love the idea of bigender!HG and how they are written as both genders in different scenes.

(lady I will touch you with my mind) by corchen on ao3

18k, not rated (could be E)

This fic has a wonderful idea for an artefact, and Myka and Helena's feelings and reactions are very well written!

~

I haven't replied to all of the questions, but if someone else also wants to do the interview for purlturtle's blog, you can find all questions here!

[ji-yaaan]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲...

Yandere!Malleus x Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, self harm, toxic relationships.

Note: Yandere time kids! \(óvò)/ time to debut as a yandere writer... Lolololol jk! But seriously, I think I enjoyed writing this too much- hmmmmm I don't know what to say anymore..... Anyways have fun reading ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Rain dripping down the skies. Heavens weeped their sorrows. Raindrops pitter-pattered on the glass windows, loneliness fills the room accompanied by a cold wind that gushed from the open windows. Ice cold raindrops hit your frozen face. How you wished to wail out your misery and despair... 

Life is unfair...When was it fair? When you had the 5 seconds in which your escape from this endless nightmare was in the grasp of your hands? Freedom was in arm's reach, yet the so called freedom was a lie painted in sweet colorful rotten words.

"God... Is this a joke? Is this a test? Is this a Nightmare? Why have you forsaken me?" You questioned the heavens pouring down heavily. As if to mock you, a loud boom of thunder echoed up above, lightning lit up the dark grey skies for a brief moment...

Empty eyes filled with sorrows gazed up the heavens, unironically, the abyss stared back at their lifeless soul. You scoffed as the heavens ridicule you, a scornful laughter escaped your lips. Only to be interrupted by a loud creak of the wooden doors that rang across the room. "Hmmmmm? Y/N darling, what are you doing by the windows? See.... Look at you.... You're drenched and you might get sick..." A deep sigh escaped the fae's lips as his eyebrows furrowed from worry. "You really have a knack for getting people worried, my love..."

How disgusting "If you're really worried, you should've let me go by now..."

Is what you'd like to say, but why make it worse for yourself? Instead of a truthful answer, you simply stared at the man you loathed most... Malleus Draconia... The great man of The Valley of thorns... The infamous man who's part of the top 5 greatest mages... The powerful prince, who's heir to the throne... Just why must he stoop this low to abduct someone with the stupid excuse of true love?

A pair of peridot orbs that seemed to glow in the dark sent shivers down your spine. Those very orbs that stared straight down at you suffocating your chest. "I'm sorry..." You have to keep it together... You worked so hard to earn this man's trust and favor, you planned your way out of this mess... The show must go on The fae walked towards your direction, inching closer and closer. The air around you seemed suffocating as it became harder to breathe. The man you despised the most... the man you detested most... held your chin up to face him as he towered over your figure. Malleus brushed away a stray hair in your forehead. His peridot eyes that looked like gems allured you, they shone brightly despite the fact that both of you were surrounded by plain darkness. You felt small in his precence...

The fae held unto both of your cheeks as he placed a small gentle kiss atop your forehead. Almost af if it was done in a loving manner... He rested his forehead in yours, darting his gaze back unto yours. "I love you, my darling..." His eyes pierced your soul as a cold sweat ran through your spine. You were speechless, tongue was tied, no words escaped your lips. Growing paler by second, colors leaving your face. A shiver went down your spine as the dark fae held unto your neck, grasp tightening as moments pass. Your pulse and your heartbeat ringing in your ears, your brain was set in a frenzy as hands tightened around your neck. Caught up in a moment of hysteria, the lack of oxygen caused you to gasp for air, as you stared at the glowing pair of eyes inches above you. Your stomach churns, adrenaline rushed up your body. You forced yourself to say the words that left a disgusting taste in your mouth... "I love you too..." Your lips curved up forming a weak forced smile as a pair of lips devoured yours. A distinct taste of bitter sour berries spreads inside your mouth, like a deadly disease blooming in chaos...

Rays of warm sunlight lit the stagnant bedrooms. Buried in silken sheets and velvet pillows, cold fingers held you tightly in slumber. Like a nightmare that paralyzed your body, the fae embraced you closely, merley inches apart from one another. How you wished to wake up from this nightmare... Staring blankly at the ceiling, thousands of thoughts lingered on your mind. You wanted to disappear from this sick fate that bounded you to where you are. You closed your eyes, wishing when it opens, you're back in the safety and comfort of your real home.

Day after day, you struggled aimlessly under the grasp of the fae. You felt like life was taken away from your grasp, making you an empty shell of your former self. Smiles became meaningless. Laughter became dull. Your vision painted gre, colors began to burn out... The only thing that's bound to keep you breathing is the hatred you bore for the man you loathed. So you made yourself a show to put on. A mere act of rotten love, like a lovesick songbird chirping lies after lies. The fae believed the deceptive love you showed, drunk in his delusions. With each fables that escaped your lips, a nauseating taste lingers on you mouth.

Now you've come this far. You felt broken beyond repair. The once colorful life you've lived feels like a vivid dream you hopelessly graps on. No means of escape under clutch of the sickening man you despised. How ironic life can be.... Hope keeps us breathing, only to kill us at the end. But this time hope is not the only reason for you to be breathing. Seething hatred you bore against Malleus plagued your mind day and night. How you wished your hatred and insanity bore fruit...

Morning dew drops dripped from the lush leaves of the white rose petals. In the garden of the diasomnia halls, there you stood caught in a daze not knowing what to do. You sat down in the lonely table in the middle of the lonesome rose garden. White flowers adorned the scenery as you pick up your cup and took sip of your bitter tea. "How dull..." You flipped  the pages of the worn out book in the midst of your fingers. You savor your sweet time indulging in your pseudo freedom while the fae is away.

In between the crumbling book you held, lies a small note stuck in between the pages. The note you've been reading for the past few weeks, contemplating on it's contents. A wicked smile plastered across your face as you peered unto the dagger that sat across the table. But your vision shifted to something far more interesting... The flask that accompanied the lone dagger. The flask with intricate designs and patterns that's bound to intrigue anyone. The very flask you stole from Malleus' study... "It's time..."

You took a last sip of the tea in your cup. The unpleasant taste still lingered in your mouth. You took the silver dagger beside the glass bottle, charmed by the metal adorned with dainty rose carvings. You sighed as you ponder on whether you're doing something right. "The right thing to do? What a joke..." A broken smile plagued your face as you look up the heavy skies threatening to pour at any moment.

The dagger in your hands pierced the smooth skin under your wrists. Scarlet hues dripped down your arms with each slash of the white metal. What a bore... None of this is painful... Has reality really became dull for you to be this numb to not even feel pain? How disappointing for yourself. Are you even human at this point? Oh right... You died once upon a time when you kissed the man you despised.

As the sunset melted in the dark grey skies, raindrops dripped from the heavens yet again. You felt like time was running out pointing the dagger in your chest. Metal prickling your collarbone, blood spilt unto your dress. A stab across the chest as sweet vermilion ichor gushed from your torso, staining your fingers bright scarlet red. The metal dug deeper under your flesh, followed by a wail escaping your lips. 

"What are you doing!" An ear piercing scream echoed in between the thunders and rain. Malleus raced towards your direction with raging fury evident in his eyes. burning peridot orbs devoured your vision as the fae loomed over your figure. Crouching unto the muddy ground, Malleus asked again "What do you think you're doing?" Possessive chartreuse eyes piercing you deeper than the metal in your chest. A scoff left your mouth as a loathsome grin surfaced your face, a sneer ridiculing the fae before you. A moment of silence passed, but the fae's fury began to grow more with each passing second. Green flames devoured the rose gardens. The very flames that suffocated you. "You're a monster" you said under your breath as a mocking grin graced your lips.

"Then make me the monster that will forever be your nightmare my love..." The fae pulled the dagger out your chest as more blood gushed and pooled under you. "How foolish humans can be... Didn't I tell you? no matter what you do, you cannot escape from me. Even if you ran away to another world.. I’d find you wherever you’ll go. Now let’s stop this twisted game we’re playing before I change my mind." Green flames engulfed your figure for a brief moment.  "ARGHHH!" A weep escaped your lips as you felt the pain from the flames burning the life out of you. The cuts in your wrists and your supposedly wounded chest is nowhere to be seen. Like a vivid dream that never happened. 

You looked at your pathetic state sitting down in the muddy grass as malleus hend unto your arms. Pools of red blood stained your white dress. The rain wailing as the thunders roared in the distance. Green flames engulfing the rose bushes despite the raindrops pouring. You stared at the dagger in your lap that stabbed your flesh, yet the supposedly wounded places are smooth and flawless. No sign of scar or wound to be seen. Nothing...

You stared at the man before you. Towering over your figure, Malleus put a hand on your cheeks as he dries off the droplets that hit your face. Peridot eyes stared down at you. The anger and disappointment still present in his eyes as green flames swallowed the gardens. Oddly enough, this moment you felt nothing, just an empty void inside you, no means of escaping this nightmare. Nothing... Absolutely nothing... No fear, No remorse, No hatred, No Love.

"You cannot escape me, my darling. No one in this twisted world will love you as much as I do. I am your one true love and  I hope you won’t forget that..."  Threats that are masked by sweet sugary words like cheap rotten candies... How disgusting... "Are you sure about that My Love??" Mocking the fae with your words, you inched closer to close the gap that seperated the both of you. Lips mingled with each other, but instead of a sweet reaction from an innocent kiss, The fae violently reacted as he pulled away grabbing unto both your wrists.

"What did you drink?"  Burning eyes that gleamed fury and anger... What a sight to see... The taste of bitter tea mixed with rotting flavors still lingered in your mouth. A wicked smile plastered across your face, you replied "I wonder what it was?" Sharp nails dug under your flesh. Scarlet liquids dripped across your arms. Eyes burning with rage stared down at you. Green flames that glowed surrounded the both of you. Booming thunders echoed up the sky. Loud raindrops hitting the grounds grew louder.

You reached for your pocket to hold out the note you were reading for weeks now. "Eternal slumber" 2 words made the great Malleus Draconia insane. 2 words that destroyed the pseudo world the both of you lived in. 2 words that set aflame to both of your twisted worlds.. 2 words that will set you free from this joke you call life.... Freedom tastes sweet.

"You’re not allowed to leave me... what have you done? Don't do this to me... stop joking around... Y/n you love me right" Eyes brewing with insanity darted their gaze unto you. The man drowning in delusion was drunken in madness. Pale hands made their way to your neck, ice cold fingers gripped your skin as black nails dug your flesh. "Even if I have to use every spell, every magic, I'll make sure to make you wake up and punish you. y/n you won’t escape from me." Tears fell from the fae's face as madness devoured both of your souls. Hands that gripped your neck tightly shook. As Malleus let's go of you. The fae embraced you rigidly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. A weep escapes his lips "Y/n dont leave me..." salty tears trickled down your neck. Alas, you cannot savor this victory for long.

A mocking grin graced your face for one last time. The sky seemed to settle down, but the flames burned brighter. Triumph....this was your sweet triumph... It's funny how you won but now you've lost so much. In fact, you've lost everything now, even yourself.....how sad.... Your eyes began to grown heavy, you simply felt tired. "Goodnight." Your eyes closed shut, never to open again. Unless with a kiss of true love, eternal slumber shall devour you.

The End....

HGNNNNN MALLEUS WAS THE EASIEST TO BULLY OK!? I wanted to do vil, but I'm sweating too much, I can't even think of a concept🤦🤦 oh wait I actually have one..... But that's for another day( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Hope y'all enjoyed this low quality yandere time!🥺🥺🥺🥺

Tagging: @ghostiebabey u said tag u if I make yandere content..... Shame on me for this😔✊

[sincerelyasomebody]

For This Moment || Jose "Sad Eyes" Guzman

(GIF Credit: @merakiaes)

A/N: Grammatical errors are expected, took a few days to write this. Kept getting distracted. Added background-ish info on Sad Eyes. Tried to mix in what has been mentioned on the show and what I came up with. Please let me know if changes need to be made with the Spanish translations. 

Pairing(s): Sad Eyes x Reader 

Summary: Everything happens for a reason. 

Warnings: fluff, friendzone(d), language, 

Word Count: 2716

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The sheer joy on the children's faces and the sound of their laughter, as they watched Principal Nichols be dunked in a water tank, was definitely going to be a highlight for this year's Freeridge Elementary Fun Fair. (Y/N) cheered with them as he was met with a pie to the face, exiting the tank, from his wife Lois. She laughed when a few of her colleagues ambushed the pair with silly string. 

A great way to officially declare the fair to be open. 

(Y/N) maneuvered her way through the crowd, saying quick 'hello's to the parents of her students, and walked up the pathway leading into the school hall. The space had been split into two areas – hers was the booth of prizes with Kira and Lyall, the music teachers. Instead of the multiple game booths having their own set prizes, winners of the games would be given a token. The amount of tokens won equated to what kind of prize you could get. On the other side of the hall was face painting which Rachel, David and Connor, all fifth grade teachers, were in charge of. This would be (Y/N)'s first time in charge of a booth and she was bubbling with excitement. As a past pupil of the elementary, she was happy to know that the fun fair was still going. Only this time more planning, effort and funding was put into it. The hall was beginning to fill up with those wanting to get their face painted, so she decided to look at the classroom photos from the past hung up on the walls. It didn't take long to spot the familiar second-grade classroom photo that hung up in her parents house. Her eyes scanned through the faces until they landed on the boy in the black button up shirt, khaki shorts and scuffed up shoes; Jose Guzman. 

A boy she hadn't really thought much of when the school year started. Until an incident involving both of them allowed an interaction to occur.

Mr Macks (a college student on placement) tried to entertain the students, while their teacher Mrs Robin left to do some photocopying, but it was proving to be difficult. Even more so when he stepped in to deal with a scuffle between three students. He sent them to the reading nook at the back of the class, with the message that Mrs Robin would talk to them when she got back. Then he focused his attention on the rest of the class.

(Y/N) held the drawing of her Poppa's garden, scribbled over with a marker, tightly to her chest as she sat beside the window. Bobby sat next to the library shelf, with his arms folded, and Jose sat in the space between them with legos in his hands.

All three of them knew they were trouble, they just didn't know how much trouble they were in.

"Bobby's a shithead," Jose whispered.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, "that's a bad word!" She looked over at Mr. Macks who continued to read to the class, "you're gonna get in more trouble!"

"Are you gonna tell on me?"

"No." He gave her a nod, "good."

"Okay if I don't tell on you, you can't tell on me."

"Why would I tell on you?"

She looked at Bobby, "because he's not a shithead, he's an asshole."

They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into giggles, their hands quickly covering their mouths. However, this caught the attention of Bobby, who glared at the pair, "you're not allowed to talk."

"You're not allowed to talk," mocked Jose, "shut up, asshole."

(Y/N) giggled and looked over at Bobby's face, "yeah, shut your face shithead."

"Your mama played you when she put that big ass bow on your head," (Y/N) turned around and was met with a smirk, "Lyla teased you the whole day."

Jose 'Sad Eyes' Guzman. 

No longer the boy in the picture, but a man.

"I had a sore head and she got a bleeding nose," responded (Y/N) with a shrug. 

Before he could reply, (Y/N) was called back over to her booth. A line had formed and those waiting were getting antsy. She gave her old friend a smile and then dashed back to where she was stationed. Quickly checking over the prizes and helping those in front of her choose what they wanted. When (Y/N) had been offered a job at her old elementary, she immediately packed up her life in San Diego and moved back to Freeridge. Despite San Diego being her home all throughout college and two years post graduation, Freeridge would always hold a special place in her heart. Upon returning she had moved into an apartment a few blocks away from the school and also her parents home. Moving back felt different, but a good kind of different. She was surprised that the interaction with Sad Eyes (she was unsure if she had a right to call him by his government name) wasn't awkward, considering the way their last interaction had ended. But, (Y/N) concluded that they had both grown since then. 

Exchanging tokens for prizes, chatting with some more parents (mostly discussing their child/ren's progress) and grabbing more prizes from behind the stage was beginning to take a toll on the woman. Thankfully, the fair was almost over - just another hour or so, before the staff and parent helpers would pack everything up. With the prize booth looking a bit empty, she decided to take a walk.

"I'll be back to help pack up," she told Lyall and smirked when his focus was on Kira, talking to a group of her students, "ask her out." 

He gave her an eye roll, "get outta here." With a laugh, she moved in front of the booth and walked out of the hall. A bouncy castle on the front field caught her attention, but she stayed away from it when she noticed the clown printed on the front. She followed the smell of (food) which brought her to the junior courtyard of the school. Buying herself two and a (drink), she sat herself down at an empty table. She ate and drank, enjoying the somewhat peaceful atmosphere. Her eyes scanned her surroundings and just happened to land on Sad Eyes. She stood up when she noticed he was cradling his hand in the other. Catalina, his sister, walking beside him. She threw her rubbish away and walked up to them.

"What happened?" 

He shook his head, "nothing, I'm fine." 

Catalina scoffed, "dumbass punched the button for Oso to be dunked and now it's most likely bruised," she then smiled at (Y/N), "lookin' good, chica." She then nudged her brother, "tell her she looks good, idiota." 

Laughing, (Y/N) shook her head, "thanks, Lina, I'll take it from here." She was met with a smile and nod, before the young woman walked off. (Y/N) gestured for him to follow her. They walked into the front office and made a right turn into the sick bay. (Y/N) had him sit on one of the bunks. Gently taking his hand into hers, she looked it over, "it's not swelling up, so it doesn't appear that anything's broken, probably bruised like Lina said." She turned around and grabbed an ice-pack from the refrigerator, wrapping it in a towel and placed it on the hand, "here you go." 

He smiled at her, "thanks bubs."

The sound of her old nickname mixed with the situation at hand, caused a reminiscent wave to wash over her. 

"I guess it's official," (Y/N) gently placed the cloth wrapped ice-pack on Jose's shoulder, "congrats, how do you feel?"

Gently laying back on the couch, he winced as another ice-pack was placed on his stomach, "siento que me voy a desmayer." "

"Jose."

He laughed, but quickly stopped, "mierda!" (Y/N) handed over the ibuprofen and a cup of water. Gulping it down quickly, he handed the empty cup back, "I was kidding."

She snatched the cup and put it on the coffee table, "better be… but you feel any different?"

"I guess the only difference is that I know my Ma and Lina will be taken care of if anything happens to me."

(Y/N) flicked his forehead, "don't say shit like that," smirking she looked at him, "Mama G's gonna kick your ass."

"She's gonna kick both our asses," he looked at her, "I got jumped in and you skipped a day," a smirk appeared on his face, "not a good look on your college application, Miss (L/N)." "

"Shut up."

He reached out and squeezed her hand, "kidding, bubs, you'll be accepted in whatever college you want."

"You think so?"

"With your grades, extra curricular activities and the recommendation letters you're gonna get? Kind of hard not too," he replied, "but, you've got time until the application process."

She nodded, "yeah," shifting on the couch, she smiled, "so, have you got a street name?"

"Yeah."

Looking at him expectantly, "well, what is it?"

"Sad Eyes."

(Y/N) gave him a smile, "no worries, Sad Eyes." 

He sighed, "Sad Eyes?"

"It's your name," she pointed out and gently removed her hand from his, "you can stay in here, but I've gotta help with the pack up." Just as she stepped back, he got to his feet, "Sad Eyes just –" 

"Jose, (Y/N)," he cut her off, "okay? Not Sad Eyes."

"Everyone else calls –" 

"You're not everyone else, bubs." His eyes locked with the (colour) orbs, he was familiar with, "when it comes to you, I'm Jose." 

"Alright, then, Jose," she laughed when he gave her a goofy grin, "you staying here or what?" 

He walked through the door, "let's pack some shit up." 

She followed after him. The junior courtyard was filled with parents and teachers alike packing up the tables and chairs. They made small talk along the way. Entering through the side doors, she hurried over to help Lyall take down the leftover prizes and place them into boxes. Anything that was in good condition would be kept for next year's fun fair. Kira carried the boxes onto the stage. (Y/N) took over sweeping the hall with Rachel because David and Connor were using the brooms as swords. Jose tried to help, but (Y/N) didn't want him to injure his hand even more. Her coworkers didn't seem bothered with having a Santos member in close proximity. Once everything was cleaned and packed away, Kira and Lyall made their way to the staffroom where a lunch was held to say thank you to the staff and parents for their help.

(Y/N) decided to opt out of the lunch, when Connor, David and Kira joined the pair and asked if she was coming along. Parent-Teacher conferences were coming up soon and she wanted to make sure her classroom was all set up for it. As it was her first official year teaching (after graduation she worked as a learning support member to gain a bit more experience 'cause she felt she needed to do more groundwork) she wanted to make sure it was presentable. 

"It doesn't look like anything's changed," commented Jose, as he followed (Y/N) into their old second-grade classroom, and put his ice-pack on her desk.

She laughed, "yeah, just a few things to keep up with the new generation," she walked over to the reading nook, "remember this?" 

This time he laughed, "how could I forget? Bobby was and still is an asshole and a shithead," he shook his head, "can't believe Mrs Robin made us write him apology letters, even when he was the one who started the whole fight." 

"He was her favourite," replied (Y/N), as she rearranged a few books, "but, I didn't mind 'cause I made a new friend that day." 

A silence fell between the duo, but she didn't think anything of it. She moved through the classroom straightening up things as she passed by. Jose watched her and couldn't help but smile. He couldn't deny that he missed her when she moved away for college. Being involved with the gang allowed him to be a part of a brotherhood and he was so caught up in it that he didn't recognise that he was pushing her away. 

Until it was too late.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)." 

She immediately stopped what she was doing and turned around, "what?" Realising what he was apologising for, she shook her head, "Jose it's fine. It was years ago." 

"That doesn't make it okay," he replied, "if I could go back and fix everything, I would." 

(Y/N) stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket, staring at the Santos party across the street. She watched as the party-goers laughed and danced to the music. Her heart sank at the sight of Jose with his arm wrapped around a girl. Spooky noticed her and shouted, "(Y/N)!" With the call of her name, Jose looked up. He quickly got up from where he was and walked to where she stood, a bright smile on his face.

"Are you gonna stand there or come and join the party?" he laughed.

She bit her bottom lip, "no… I just – uh, Lina told me where you would be," her eyes drifted over to the party and then back to him, "after we waited for an hour for you to show up."

His eyebrows furrowed, "show up for what?" 

"My birthday dinner," (Y/N) explained, "just finished actually, the celebratory mood kinda died when Lina let it slip that Spooky was also throwing a party," she kicked at the curb, "not a surprise that your priorities have changed, but it doesn't mean it hurts any less."

"(Y/N) I –"

"I get it. But, it wasn't just a birthday dinner you missed. It was the fact that I announced that I'm graduating," she blinked back the tears, "at the top of my class. And, I wanted to make sure everyone that helped me along the way knew how much they meant to me, you know? It fucking sucked 'cause the one who has always supported my venture outside of Freeridge promised they'd never switch up… and then switched up."

Jose moved to hug her, but she held up her hands. He watched as she wiped her eyes and looked at him with her (colour) eyes. The (colour) eyes that always allowed him to know what she was feeling, when the words didn't leave her mouth.

"(Y/N) –"

"Whatever, enjoy the rest of your night, Sad Eyes."

And with that, she walked off.

"Unfortunately, time travel hasn't been invented yet, so you can't go back. But, that's okay." She stepped towards him, "I wouldn't want you too. I'm sorry as well. For ignoring all of your calls. If I could go back, I would pick up every single one and answer." She wrapped her arms around him, "I missed you, Jose." 

He kissed her head, "I missed you too, (Y/N). 

They held each other close. Jose rubbed his hands up and down her back, loving the feeling of having her back in his arms. (Y/N) breathed in his scent and squeezed him tighter. She listened to the rhythmn of his heart, before stepping back to look at him. He smiled at her, hands still caressing her back. 

All of a sudden the atmosphere shifted. 

His hands wandered down to her waist giving it a gentle squeeze, while hers gently gripped his arms. Slowly, their faces inched towards each other until their lips touched. Jose trailed up a hand to the back of her head to deepen the kiss, (Y/N) happily accepted it, hands moving to wrap around his neck. 

"Been wanting to do that since you punched Bobby in the face," he commented once they broke apart.

"That's interesting, 'cause I've wanted to do that since you poured the bucket of legos over his head."

Jose kissed her nose, forehead touching hers, "gotta be some full circle kinda shit, querida." 

"Yeah, it's gotta be," (Y/N) replied and pulled him back in for a kiss. 

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Spanish Translation(s):

Chica - girl

Idiota - idiot

Siento que me voy a desmayer - I feel like I'm going to pass out

Mierda - shit

Querida - honey