#giving a shit about things beyond himself and what he immediately needs to live his life

[cameatslemons]

mouthwashing post. jimmy is a raging narcissist and im tired of people trying to give him benefit of the doubt. his inability to see two feet beyond what immediately concerns him dooms everyone on the tulpar, and even in the end, he only really cares about himself.

big list of all his narcisstic bullshit below bc im here to motherfucking prove it (mouthwashing spoilers of course)

most obviously: everything is a personal attack on him. EVERYTHING. you can see it most clearly at the birthday party; while everyone else is understandably freaking out about being laid off, jimmy starts telling curly off and insulting both him and everyone else at the table, as if being laid off is a personal attack on jimmy specifically. it doesn’t matter that anya has nothing to go back to, that swansea’s life is thrown away- jimmy is the ONLY victim here, apparently. curly is personally responsible for getting laid off, in his eyes.

i don’t actually know the words for this but the way he’s constantly going “i have to do EVERYTHING around here”- again, feeling like its a personal attack to be asked anything at all. anya asks him to take care of curly because her entire fucking life is falling apart, its her end of days, but somehow shes the villain for struggling.

also the general antagonization of anya. she’s extremely competent for the hand she was dealt! shes too poor to attend med school yet shes very knoqledgable in medication and wound care! and yeah no shit shes struggling now, someone she cared deeply about is suffering immensely and now the ship is being “run” by a man who assaulted her. no fucking shit shes breaking down. but jimmy makes it clear time and time again that this is somehow her fault, all this shit of “shouldn’t nurses EARN their titles?” while she’s having a mental breakdown.

similarly, swansea being villainized for holding the cryopod for daisuke and killing him. like, i get it, but jimmy’s whole thing of saying he can fix daisuke is… c’mon man. he’s a hero to himself, he “always” fixes things the same way he “fixed” the ship, and he will fix daisuke and claim heroism even though it’s very clear nothing else can be done for him.

“someday you’ll thank me” while forcing curly to eat his own leg. the incredible confidence that he is in the right even when literally torturing someone.

MOST IMPORTANTLY: the final scene with curly burning. jimmy doesn’t earnestly believe he has anything to be sorry for. even when apologizing to curly he says “we can BOTH be heroes!” despite everything, he still thinks he’s in the right. he STILL thinks he’s a hero, because he’s right, he’s ALWAYS right, surely. he can apologize and grovel all he wants but in the end he still thinks he’s the hero of this story; he doesn’t genuinely think he has anything to right, he’s only doing this to be freed of consequence. and/or believes a simple “sorry” is enough, that it can fix completely ruining the lives of four people with his own inferiority complex.

i do think the choice to put curly in the pod instead of himself is the only time he recognizes his own guilt, if any. maybe it’s realizing that he DOES need something more than a simple “sorry” to even begin to try to fix things, maybe it’s that he thinks this will cement him even further as a hero. even then, does this fix anything? all it’s doing is making curly suffer more. is this actually a good thing?

to him, he’s the hero here. he always is. crashing the ship is a heroic thing, putting all his crewmates through hell is a heroic thing. all because something nobody can control is somehow a personal attack on jimmy.

not to mention all the “hallucinations” he has- it’s what he thinks should happen, it’s what he wants to hear. curly still calling him a friend, the dead corpses of his crewmates praising him, even in the final cutscene with curly burning where he says “no, YOU take the pod”. none of it’s real. it’s just what jimmy thinks is “right”. despite everything, he thinks everyone should thank and praise him, because he can do no wrong.

conclusion: jimmy is a narcisstic piece of shit.

[waywardsalt]

(^prev tags)

@morimess you’ve got a very good point, and i didn’t consider that as much when i hashed this post out, linebeck is more on the fence between action and inaction (he's probably the most interesting part of the theme since he's a major character and his arc is kinda tied to it), i think i just got caught up in him taking action in a very literal sense, he's in a spot of inaction when it comes to fixing himself. he goes after the ghost ship, which is his bit of action over other characters, and i consider him notable since he is actively... doing things, and he's very comfortable and capable in what he's doing, he's just got personal issues he either doesn't seem to be aware of or feel the desire to fix. (tbh i feel like when/if i get around to realllly looking at the theme the whole thing between him and jolene might get its own section because it feels like a fucking trainwreck of action driving things into what really just amounts to inaction and some kind of messy stasis, with my read of that subplot). i still think he stays in that group of characters who are more willing to take action due to that more literal action and the fact that he does seem more willing to solve his problems, even if in the biggest case he's just running away (but again yadda yadda nuance and my own read on that subplot), and a lot of his major character moments are generally around him taking some kind of action (i count the letter, his lapse between action and inaction with the ghost ship having no treasure, that bit before the last ocean king temple run, defending link from bellum). he's probably going to be the most interesting character to look at with this theme since both parts can apply to him and he's the character who goes from inaction to action the most, i think.

with my phantom hourglass replay, there are two things i noticed;

a possible theme you could glean from the game is action vs inaction, and i think it's especially prevalent before you even leave mercay the first time, with oshus frequently urging link to not go after the ghost ship, then to just wait until the broken bridge is fixed, and seems reluctant at every turn while link and ciela are more than eager to go and do something about this problem, and the people of mercay in general talking about things and their problems but never seeming to act on their fears or desires, as well as the mention that due to the ghost ship, very very few people are still sailing around, while linebeck is one of the only people we see in the game actively going after the ghost ship and still sailing around. i might make a longer post just talking more about the action vs inaction in phantom hourglass but i just noticed it a bit and thought it was a bit of an interesting sort of theme you could find in the game.

linebeck moves so fucking much. i think he moves more than any npc in the rest of the game. not just in his intro cutscene where he is very animated, just in how much he moves when just standing in his little idle post, it's damn near distracting when the camera is focused on him, he moves a lot. i don't think i've really acknowledged how much he moves, and it really gives the impression that he's antsy or eager to get going, both of which fit him pretty well with how he acts.

[voonroo]

Could I please request some platonic HCs for Sir Pentious and Angel Dust with a more reserved/naïve teen!reader sinner that’s relatively new to hell, somewhat overwhelmed by just all that chaos beyond the hotel, and ends up forming a paternal/sibling-like bond with them? Like they got the impression early on that Pentious/Angel either were fun to be around or maybe even helped them feel safe, and so they’ve kind of been hanging around them and coming to them for advice ever since? Thanks!

Cover Your Ears I'm About To Say Something You Don't Need To Hear!

⌐‣Angel & Pentious + Teen Reader REQ

Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS SO MUCH. He will get his moment. Trust. BTW ANGEL AS AN OLDER BROTHER WOULD BE SO FUNNY–

Angel & Teen Reader

When he first saw you in the hotel not looking your hottest, he immediately felt a pang of pity.

News spread quickly in the hotel that you were new to hell. So he gave you some time before striking up a conversation.

You two hit it off without a hitch!

Angel often just calls you “kid” but it's in the most loving way possible.

He doesn't mind your reserved nature, easily talking enough for the both of you. So often, he’ll lead the conversation (a rant) and ask for your input every so often.

He tries his hardest not to spit dirty jokes in your presence, he doesn't really give two shits if you're naive, he's gonna try to keep you that way.

He wouldn't tell you what he does for a living and would probably try to avoid you after a rough shift to make absolutely sure that he doesn't pop off at you.

When you begin to come to (him!) for advice— oh that's when he takes the title of big brother.

He’d try his hardest to give you the best advice for anything you ask. If he can't think of something on the spot then expect a message with step-by-step advice at like 1 am.

Pentious & Teen Reader

When he met you in the hotel and saw how young you were and how stressed you looked, tears could be seen in his eyes. (he's an empath I swear.)

He’d try to distract you from your own negative feelings frequently.

He calls you “my child” at first- even though you're a teenager… But soon it changes to him calling you your name like a normal person.

Another one who talks (rants) enough for the two of you. However, he’d be talking inventor and even if you don't know what he's talking about (you will soon) he will ask you your recommendations, thoughts, ideas, etcetera etcetera.

He loves trying to teach you how to build things. Whenever you're successful he claps his hands excitedly with the proudest smile on his face– and he's crying…

He grows attached very easily and will gladly take on the title of “father” The egg bois call you “the boss’s child”

Pentious won't allow any disrespect on your name even if it means he gets all the disrespect himself.

“You're naive? Oh don't worry I can be that too sssometimes—”

He knows he's so happy when you come to him for advice. He may not give the best advice but god damn it, with how he presents his answer to you with so much confidence- it might as well be.

“We ssshould nuke them!”

Word Count: 443

Inbox is open!!

[espinosaurusrexex]

pls do the “who did this to you” i just imagine and college!bucky x reader and they cant stand each other but share an apartment. reader comes back hurt, bucky sees it and becomes protective.

I think I wrote this before any other request, I loved it so much! Hopefully you do too 💕

"Who did this to you?" (Bingo Game)

!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!

College!Roommate!BuckyBarnes x Reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of abuse, grumpy Bucky, angsty, sassy reader, fluff

You tried to blink the tears away as you roamed through your purse. There was really no need to cry at this moment, but you couldn’t help it. You were fucking shaken from what had just happened. 

A curse rolled over your lips when your shaky hands missed the lock on your apartment door a second time. Stupid hands. And the dumb tears in your eyes didn't help you see what you were doing either. You just wanted to get inside, hide away in your room and avoid all of humanity for a solid week. And you wanted it to happen fast. Because you knew the conversation pending about two doors from this one and you dreaded it. 

It was shameful enough you came home crying from a date at this hour, you didn’t need a lecture on top of it. But Bucky had told you. He had told you that all men were dicks and that nothing good could come out of a drunken number jot down at a sports bar at 2 am. But you didn’t listen. You never listened to Bucky. Hell, you tolerated him on a good day, so you most certainly wouldn’t take advice from him. 

And that’s why you went out with that idiot poser boy John, really just to prove Bucky wrong. But, shit, it bruised your ego to admit he had been right this time. Not that you planned on telling him that. 

Fuck, no. 

Because all your roommate would do is give you an ‘I told you so’ when you really needed a good hug and a tequila girls' night. But that wouldn’t happen. He would never let you live down the worst date in history. 

First, that dickhead had tried to order you a salad and then he pretended to have forgotten his wallet and then, after you had brought him home, he had really thought the date had gone good enough to expect more than a fucking smack in the face. And after you had politely tried to tell him to fuck off, that asshole really tried to force himself on you. Luckily, his roommate had put an end to it before anything more could have happened, but it was enough to shake you to your core. 

An annoyed groan echoed through the door before it unlocked and revealed a shirtless Bucky beyond the threshold. He was staring at you broodily as you scrambled to get your key back into your purse and push past him but his disheveled hair and gray sweats made you halt for a second. 

“What happened?” If you weren’t so scattered, you would have never thought to see his eyes slightly soften at the sight of you. Bucky would never, though. It was just your shocked mind playing tricks on you. 

“Sorry for waking you,” you grumbled as you pushed past him, but Bucky blocked your way immediately. 

“What’s your problem?” You snapped as you stared up at him. But he didn’t say a thing. “That’s what I thought,” you whispered to yourself when you pushed at his chest to clear the way.

But Bucky was fast to snatch your wrist. A painful scream escaped your lips as you yanked your arm back, holding it securely to your chest while trying to fight the tears brimming again.

Fucking tears. You didn’t want to cry. 

His eyes quintet smaller before he closed the front door with a thud, while simultaneously reaching out to pull your hand back towards him - gentler this time. He pushed up your sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist beneath the cotton. Fuck, that looked worse than it felt. You hissed when his gaze caught yours again. 

“What happened?” His voice was less angry suddenly - insistent and calm, somehow.

You pulled your hand back a second time. “Just forget it, okay?” Not the lecture. Not now. 

But Bucky was fucking persistent. God, he was annoying. “Y/N. Who did this to you?”

You wanted to just leave but the tone of his voice let a shiver run down your spine. He was staring at you with those damn eyes again and now you really couldn’t stop the tears from falling anymore. It was too much. Too frustrating, too embarrassing.

“You were right okay?!” It broke out of you, your arm flailing in the air. “Are you happy? John Walker is a fucking asshole just like you said. Now leave me alone.”

You turned to the hallway, your sleeve wiping at your eyes while you heard Bucky follow you through the darkened room. “Not happening.”

“What?” You turned back angrily. You were so ready to just punch him right about now. Why couldn’t he just leave you be? It was bad enough as it was. 

“I’ll get you some ice.”

“Bucky-”

“No. Just shut up for once and let me at least try to apologize for my species.” He grumbled and you snorted in disbelief. What was wrong with him? 

Bucky just stared at you again, and you couldn’t shake the feeling he was waiting for your permission. As if he had ever wanted permission for doing anything. But when he didn’t move for another second you got serious again. “Sorry.”

With a silent nod, he disappears into the kitchen and you went about your bedtime routine. When you entered your room, freshly showered and in your pajamas, Bucky looked up at you. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel, and he was wearing a shirt now too.

Shame, you thought, and immediately scolded yourself for it.

The shower had helped calm you down a little, but now that he was gently pushing the ice back to your wrist, your heart began to race again. The night had been fucking traumatic so far. And having your annoying wouldn’t-touch-you-with-a-six-foot-pole roommate be nice to you for once was terrifying. But at the same time, you felt as though you got to see a side of Bucky today he rarely showed to anyone. And, as much as you hated to admit it, it was nice to not fight with or ignore him for once. 

Another then minutes passed of you just sitting in silence, your mind racing with memories of the night and Bucky staring against the wall for the majority of it. You didn’t want to think about what would have happened had Lemar not intervened his dickhead roommate’s plan. But you couldn’t stop. It was all that occupied your mind and it made a whole new wave of anxiety wash over you. 

You were so deep in your nightmares, you hadn’t even noticed Bucky get up.

“Are you going to be okay?” He asked with his hand on the doorframe. 

You just spared him a quick glance and mumbled a hasty ‘I’ll be fine’ before you moved to lay down and roll on your side, facing your back to the door and Bucky. 

“Are you sure?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to tell him the truth. That you were terrified of being alone right now. That you would sleep way better if John Walker had gotten a knee in his balls and a restraining order. But you somehow couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him either. So you just stayed silent, your arms hugging your body as a slow tear ran down to your pillow. 

For a while, it was quiet, and you really needed to control your breathing, your muscles tense as you lay there. Hoping - wishing - for this to be over soon. But then you heard Bucky shuffle a few feet away from you and soon, your mattress dipped. 

A small but relieved smile snuck on your lips when you felt him carefully inch closer to you. You just lifted your blanket in response until Bucky was snugly pressed against you. His arm wrapped around you and you could feel him relax when your hand covered his. 

It was unusual but it felt so nice to be held.

Your breathing evened out with every second and after some time, a steady rhythm had settled within you. You actually relaxed against Bucky’s chest, his face resting in the crook of your neck - you were drifting off to sleep slowly, calmly.

But before you entirely tapped out, Bucky whispered into the darkness, a gruff annoyance in his tone. “If he ever tries something again, you tell me. I’ll make sure he’ll stay the fuck away from you.”

But it warmed you all the more. You wouldn’t take his kindness for granted, though. It meant a lot to you. “Thank you,” you sleepily mumbled as your head buried deeper in your pillow.

You saw Bucky’s frown before your eyes when his face pressed back into your skin. Funny how relationships shifted sometimes.

as always, reblogs and comments are so so so appreciated 🥰 check here for a morning after drabble

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[captainofthedauntless]

Wants

Rise Leonardo x Reader imagine

Info + Warnings: Reader needs help wrapping gifts at the last second before a party. Leo's their hero. And a huge distraction. No gendered language, pronouns, or Y.N used for Reader. An attempt at Spanish by a very not Spanish speaking writer. Established relationship. Arguably steamy. Set a few years post movie.

Commentary: IDK what the fuck happened here.

See, here's the thing.

You are extremely, incredibly kissable.

He knows this. He knows this like he knows his swords are sharp. He knows it in his bones.

He also knows you have somewhere to be.

(Really, his motives were good. He came over just to help you finish wrapping your friend's birthday gifts (okay, and give you shit for only now getting around to it). He just wanted to be a supportive boyfriend and make sure you had time to get ready in peace.)

And yet, because he's either an idiot or an asshole, here he is, boxing you in at your table and kissing you.

See, the thing... you look really, really good. And you smiled at him when you walked out of your room, all dressed up and looking forward to the party you're going to and grateful for his help.

And he's only human- turtle- hm.

He's not immune, is his point.

So here you are, getting kissed, and his hands are on your waist and yours are grabbing handfuls of his shirt and he's very, very happy.

It's only when you gasp against him- his hand slipped, okay, he hadn't meant to squeeze your hip like that- and the sound makes his heart skip one beat and crash into another that he realizes- with all of the force of getting hit by a train- that he has to stop.

It's like cutting off his own arm.

But he does it, he pulls back- pushes back against every fiber of his being that wants to keep you close enough that he can almost hear your heartbeat- because you have places to be.

And you deserve much, much better than him being a desperate disaster against your dining table.

Now he's staring.

He's staring and his hands are still on your waist and your hip and he has to stop. Has to. Needs to. Like, muy rápido, right now, yesterday has to stop.

"...Hi," He says, voice all shaky and gooey through his grin.

"Hi," You repeat, a little dazed as you're still clinging to his shirt.

You're smiling at him again. He's not sure you ever stopped.

Shit. Fuck. He has to walk away.

He wants to keep you there for the rest of your natural lives.

"You gotta go," He mutters grimly, and he realizes how fucked it sounds immediately, and he throws himself into an uncharacteristically jumbled explanation because his brain is still offline. "It's late- you gotta- the thing- I'm- fuck I don't want to stop kissing you."

You cock your head as you process his messy babble, blinking twice, and then you're laughing.

And then he's laughing, because really it's that or take one of your butter knives and portal himself into the ocean, and if he does that he can't do this again.

"I gotta go," You confirm with a wry, bittersweet smile, not letting go of his shirt.

It's going to be so wrinkled.

He literally could not give less of a fuck.

"You gotta go," He repeats, more to himself than you, and you must know that because you're laughing again and you must really not care about... whatever urgent thing you have to go to... whatever that was, because you're not helping him stop like. At all.

You're gonna be the death of him one day.

"Maybe... you could come back by tonight? We could watch that stupid racing movie you've been talking about-"

"It's a heist movie, thank you-"

"-And, uh..."

"Don't say chill. I'll explode. I'll expire."

"I was trying to say cuddle," You say, bashful and exasperated at the same time, somehow. As though he'd ever say no. As if he knows how to say no to you. As though he ever, ever stood a chance.

It's beyond cute. It's enough to make him want to squish you and literally never let you go.

"You gotta go," He groans, his hands darting up to cup your cheeks and squeeze your face softly. "You're gonna drive me insane. What even is this again?"

"Birthday party."

"They'll have another-"

"Leo!" You laugh over his playful persuasion.

"You can send a card-"

"Leo."

"I'll pay for postage. I'll lick the stamp."

"Leonardo," You breathe, all fond exasperation, as though you'd ever let go of his shirt. As though you're any better than he is.

He almost wants to push just a little farther, see what else he can get you to call him.

He really wants to.

He wants a lot of things around you.

And even more when he's not around you.

And now, he's facing min-ee-mum four hours being not around you.

He hates it.

He takes the feeling and balls it up and three-point-shoots it into his mind's trashcan, because you deserve to go and have fun and be merry and all that jazz. He gets you to himself enough- never enough, literally never enough- that he can share.

Plus, he did a fantastic job wrapping those gifts.

And, as easily as he twists and leads and convinces other people, he's played himself right into a corner, because now it's both you deserve him being normal here AND his ego.

He'd be impressed by himself if it weren't for the fact that it means he loses.

He shakes his head a little, because he lost the plot minutes ago and you really gotta go and he's still got you against the table.

"Movie night?" He asks, just to hear you talk. He knows the answer.

"Movie night," You confirm happily, releasing his shirt.

He whines a little. He's barely even embarrassed at this point.

You laugh again and smooth the fabric out, hands warm on his plastron and making him a little insane again, before you press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for your help, honey."

"Thank me by making sure those are put front and center on the table, yeah?"

You glance at the boxes- done up in blue ribbon, you notice- and nod. "Art deserves to be displayed," You say seriously, and he's dangerously close to kissing you again because you're perfect.

"Yoooou-"

"Gotta go?" You finish with a knowing grin, eyes smug, head tilted playfully, perfect.

"Extremely, extremely yes. If you don't go I'm never gonna let you go. You gotta go."

"Hm..."

"Nope!" He says quickly, cutting off whatever tease is about to come out of your mouth, clinging to his sanity by half a thread. "Nope, nope, you are taking those boxes and you are going and you're going to have a great time and be safe and that is final."

"Are you telling me or yourself?"

Perfect. The death of him. Smug and clever and kissable and the worst and the best.

"Both, apparently."

"...I can be a few minutes late-"

"Baby, gorgeous, mi vida, if you don't get out of this apartment-"

You laugh bright and mischievous and delightful, and you press a quick kiss to his lips, and you scoop up the gifts and your keys ("You can port out, right?" "I think I'll manage.") and your phone and wallet and he grabs the door for you, because he's a gentleman (unwilling to be an inch farther from you than he has to).

"See you tonight," You promise, turning back to look him in the eye with more open affection than he was ready to see outside his own reflection.

"See you tonight," He agrees, knowing he sounds lovesick.

You leave, he closes the door, he slumps forwards to rest his forehead against it as he turns the lock and laughs breathlessly because his chest feels like it's going to explode from how much of it is just you.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: the announcement

authors: inspired by several asks and convos with ya'll about these dream children of roman and solana. 😭

warnings: none

words: 2.3k

*photos found on twitter*

tags: @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @lov3rla03 @annfg8 @jayjayem1999

@that-one-anxious-mango @fearlesschimera @wwecrazed2010

“Our house used to be quiet, ya know.”

Solana rolls her eyes as she sets the timer on the oven for the homemade chocolate chip cookies she’s had a craving for all morning. Just one of the three trays she’ll have baked when all is said and done.

Her family has a big appetite. Especially the boys.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she pokes a little fun, “that was before the children, my love.”

“And the dogs,” he scoffs, mind briefly wandering to Dulce. Two years later, he still finds himself waiting for her to walk her lazy self into his office and plop down in her bed for a nap or to roll onto her back for a stomach rub. Her passing is still something that gets to him from time to time.

Solana's giggles pull him from his brief recollection as she removes said apron and walks over to him. Hands on her chest, she looks up, asking, “you ready?”

Roman sighs. Not necessarily. He knows this is about to be a shitshow, but it's also something they can’t put off any longer. “Let’s get this shit over with.” He takes her hand in his, walking them towards the living room, stopping near the staircase. “Kids! Family meeting!” As expected, a chorus of protests sound from up the stairs. Another heavy sigh, followed by a much firmer, “now!” 

An almost immediate wind of silence as husband and wife journey into the living room, standing near the 80inch flat screen TV. Roman isn’t surprised to find that Aroha is the first to arrive, skipping into the living room wearing that ballerina costume she seems borderline obsessed with. Tutu and all. Also, not surprising, is the fact that Coco has tagged along with her, settling into the bed in the living room. 

“Look, mommy! I’m a princess!” Aroha spins around, making Roman crack a smile. While her infatuation with wanting to wear costumes all the time can be a challenge, especially when it’s time for school and she has to wear her uniform, her softness reminds him a lot of Leya and Solana. She’s taken after their personalities.

“You’re a beautiful princess, mija.” Solana compliments, accepting the hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek. They share a short conversation in Spanish before she’s over by him, reaching to be picked up. He easily obliges, smile widening when she kisses his cheek and lays her head on his shoulder.

Lina and Leya are next to arrive. Lina is clearly gym bound, given her matching workout set that Roman is about to comment on when she asks, “daddy, can I use the big gym tonight? I need to lift.”

The big gym would be the separate mother-in-law suite that Roman had turned into a gym when Lina and Tama started expressing increasing interest in fitness and working out. So much so that Roman found his initial gym that was built in the main building no longer serving its purpose.

Thus, the renovation. And again, having seen what Lina wears to train from time to time, he’d rather her only see their property and nothing beyond it. 

“Sure.” It’s an easy, agreeable thing.

Lina fist pumps the air. Roman then notices that Leya has come with her sketchbook tucked under her arm. He watches how she sits on the sofa, legs crossed before she pulls it out to continue whatever her latest creation is.

So much like Solana. 

Tamasā, Tama, is the next to come down the steps, a huge jump allowing him to bypass the last three. He directs his attention to Roman, “dad, can Lina and I use—”

“Already asked him,” she cuts him off, texting away on her phone that her eyes are glued to. Roman scoffs a bit. She better not be talking to that grown man looking lil boy. “You’re late. As always.”

Tama sucks his teeth, muttering, “man, whatever.” He walks over to Solana, giving her a hug that he has to lean over for. At freshly turned 15, he’s almost the same height as his dad. “Hey, mama.”

“Hi, baby.” She kisses his cheek as their oldest son falls down on the other sofa, also pulling out his phone.

“Boys!” Solana calls, giving Roman that ‘of course, they’re the last to come’ look. It’s not surprising. Roman is certain them boys have ADHD or something. They’re always on the move. “Come on!”

“Mom!” Koa calls down with an almost whine. “I’m about to beat the wizard!”

Roman walks over, still holding his baby girl and easily calls up the steps, “Imma beat you, that wizard, and your brother if ya’ll don’t get down here now.”

The Tribal Chief already knows his second set of twins are gaming together, from their separate rooms, using that online play feature shit. There’s grumbled protests and stomping as the 10 year olds finally make their appearance, pouting and scowling. 

“Fix your faces,” Roman warns as they begrudgingly walk into the living room and opt to sit on the floor. He’s about to say something when they pull out those handheld gaming systems, but Solana beats him to it.

She speaks in Spanish, the boys responding back in Spanish before putting the devices on the floor next to them. 

With everyone settled, Roman carries Aroha over to the sofa so she can sit next to Leya. Leya offers a warm smile to her little sister, sharing the art with her. Even with the age difference, they’re close. Roman gets it. The two of them are so much like Solana, having taken so much after her. In all of the good ways.

“Wait.” Tama suddenly sits up, excitement painting his face. “Is this about my car?” He smiles, and Roman almost feels like he’s looking at himself many years ago. Like the girls have taken after Solana, Tama has definitely taken after him in looks. The spitting image of himself when he was a teenager. “Am I getting—”

“I’m not getting you an Aston Martin,” Roman shuts that down real fast, unsurprised when his son scowls. Again, his twin.

“But Lina and Leya—”

“Didn’t crash a car before they even got their damn license,” he shoots back, easily. Tama can be….distracted at times, hence him crashing Roman’s Bugatti when learning how to drive. One of Roman’s favorite cars. 

Aroha then decides to ask in the sweetest voice. “Daddy, can I get a pony?”

“No, baby, you cannot get a pony.” Animals. His youngest is also on this animal fixation as of recent. She almost threw a fit just the other day when he refused to stop for the ‘little baby’ she saw on the side of the road when he was bringing her to gymnastics practice.

Possum. 

The little baby was a fucking possum.

Of course, his younger sons seem to see an opportunity to get their request in since Aroha’s was denied. With perfect synchronization, they start off with their application.  “Can we get a—”

But, Roman is already three steps ahead. “I’m not getting ya’ll no damn lizards.”

Koa and Kai have wanted reptiles for a while. And they’re gonna keep wanting them, at least until they’re grown and out of the house. Dogs, Roman can get with. Anything else is a hell no. Especially some damn lizards. 

Kai, the more crafty of the two, is the one to object. “But, dad, they’re bearded dragons!”

“Dragons?!” Aroha’s gaze shifts into horror as she buries herself into Leya’s side. “I don’t like dragons.”

“Baby, dragons aren’t real,” Solana comforts, offering a warm smile. 

“Would ya’ll stop scaring your sister?” Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. This is going exactly as he expected, except they haven’t even dropped the news onto them yet. “Now look, this meeting isn’t about any of ya’ll getting anything. You get things all the time anyway. That’s why the house looks the way it does.”

Roman has a low tolerance for most things. Granted, there’s always an exception for his kids, even on days like this where they are clearly on one. So while he has denied the requests thus far, it’s more often than not he has packages arriving daily. Either things the kids have suckered out of him, things Lina and Leya have ordered, Solana even. Not to mention Koa and Kai who somehow have a damn Amazon account of their own.

He’s still trying to figure that out, though something tells him Tama had something to do with it. 

But as a result of the constant arrivals and items being purchased, the house being filled with stuff, it’s always clean. Solana likes keeping a tidy home, and the kids are good with their chores. Usually. But still, Kai and Koa practically have a gaming and tech set-up in their rooms that could make even the Geek Squad jealous.

Tama has every pair of Jordan’s to ever exist. Lina too. Each having their own rooms just for their shoes.

Leya’s room is a damn art gallery with her often painting and designing her walls every couple weeks. 

And Aroha’s bedroom is more or less a playroom. The girl has dolls everywhere. 

The kids are all spoiled rotten, but they’re still respectful. And that’s all Roman cares about.

“Your dad and I—Well, we have something to share with you all.”

At that, the younger kids have returned back to their previous headspace of receiving. “Are we going to Disney?!”

Yes, they are going to Disney. Roman willing to sacrifice his mental wellbeing for a few days to make the kids happy. It’s been a couple years since they last went, and they’ve been wanting to go, so Solana and him have been working on that behind the scenes. But, it’s a surprise, so he’s not about to confirm as such. 

“No. We’re not going to Disney.”

Lina chuckles, still texting on her phone as she jokes. “What then? Are you guys pregnant again or something?” At that, she looks up, sharing a small laugh with Leya and Tama. However, that laughter is quickly cut short when neither Solana nor Roman offer any sort of disagreement. 

Or deny it.

Lina’s jaw drops. “Wait…..” She looks over at her mom. “Mami? Is it true?” She speaks in Spanish, Roman not needing to speak the language to understand what’s being asked. She snaps her head to Leya who’s looking over at Roman. 

“Dad?”

A deep breath followed by a shared look with Solana who gives him the non-verbal go ahead. Time to rip the bandaid off.

Roman doesn’t hesitate or stutter as he announces, “your mom and I are having another baby.”

And thus it begins. In less than seconds after it leaves his mouth, the group erupts with various expressions of shock and borderline panic.

“How does this keep happening?”

“Why does this keep happening?”

“Where is it gonna sleep?”

“Can I go live with Aunt Naomi and Uncle Jimmy?”

“Is that all you and mama do?”

“Alexa, how do I get adopted?”

Roman lets them get it all out before his loud voice silences the room. “Alright, that’s enough.” Temporary silence. That’s all.

Koa crosses his arms over his body, scowling. “Where do these babies keep coming from?”

“The baby fairy!” Aroha answers with the happiest expression, like she’s just shared this great big secret with everyone that will make everything all better and solve world hunger. “The baby fairy puts lots and lots of babies in mommy’s tummy, and then they come out her vagina.”

That last portion makes all of the boys turn up their nose in disgust. Kai being the one to shout, ���that’s nasty!”

“You’re nasty!” 

“Naw, mom and dad are the nasty ones to keep making all these kids.” Tama sucks his teeth, adding on almost desperately. “Aren’t ya’ll kind of old to keep doing this?”

Aroha jumps off the sofa, pouting and defending. “Daddy’s old, but he’s not that old! He’s baby santa old.”

Roman looks over at his wife with all of the confusion only to her covering her mouth and looking away, clearly trying to hide her smile.

“I’m not old,” he defends. 

Lina rolls her eyes. “Dad, come on. You get more gray in your beard every day.”

“Yeah, well, if ya’ll kids would stop stressing me out—”

“So then why’d you make more?” Tama mutters it to himself, but it’s still loud enough for his father to overhear. One sharp look from Roman making him cough awkwardly as he focuses on his latest kicks.

Solana clears her throat, redirecting all the attention onto herself. “I know—I know this is a lot to take in, and it’ll be an adjustment for everyone, but it’ll be fine.”

“I really think we should talk again about me, Leya, and Tama getting our own pl—”

“That’s not happening.” Roman shuts that shit down so fast, once again reiterating his main point every time this is brought up. “I’m not getting ya’ll a penthouse. This is your house. You’ll stay here.”

“With all these kids?” Lina pouts and gestures to the younger kids who are somehow now arguing over the existence of dragons and princesses. “This is torture in some countries.”

Leya smiles, asking gently, “how far along are you, mama?” 

Solana’s smile is soft as she answers, hand resting on her stomach. “6 weeks.”

Tama gives a smile as well, rubbing his hands together. “Bet it’s another boy.”

At that, the twins roll their eyes, Leya poking fun, “no way. Another girl.”

“Wanna bet?”

As the teens start placing wagers on the sex of the baby and the younger kids continue their passionate debate, Solana hugs her husband, eyes closing when he kisses the top of her head. His hand on her belly, content and pleased.

However, the timer on the oven going off seems to be the thing that breaks all conversation, Tama asking, "mama, you baking?"

Solana smiles, leaning into Roman's chest. "Chocolate chip--"

She can barely finish her statement as all of the kids, Coco too, are suddenly rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen, now arguing about who gets dibs on the first set.

"Oldest first!"

"No way! Guys first!"

"You guys always get first!"

"Cause you two always eat them all!"

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Solana giggles into Roman who's only sighing again, index and middle finger pressed against his temple.

"Maybe we should hear them out on the penthouse idea."

"Roman!"

[macabr3-barbi3]

Bluetooth Bogie

week three! give it up for week three!!!

I hope everyone is eating well with everything we have on our Menu so far, lovingly crafted and beautifully executed by our lovely @synamartia! Thank you as always to my love @fraugwinska for the pretty pretty banners she made for me, and to the other wives as well! @minkdelovely @hazelfoureyes @sugoi-writes 🩷❤️🩵

Summary: reader uses a production headpiece to drop filthy one-liners in Vox’s ear, live on air!

Vox is minding his business reading off the evening news report when he hears the telltale beep of one of the production headsets connecting with his Bluetooth. He continues with his sentence, figuring it will just be someone updating him with something new that was happening that he needed to touch on, just more of the usual shit that people pinged him about while he was live.

“I’ve been thinking about sucking you off during broadcasts.”

He stutters- the sentence he had been in the middle of dies on his lips as his screen glitches in the monitor he uses to watch himself. He powers through, regaining his train of thought and scanning the crowd of people beyond the set for the culprit; it could only be you that was stupid or brave enough to say such a thing to him in front of so many people. No one else seems to have any reaction to the words, so he knows you’ve used the tech skills -that had caught his eye enough to hire you in the first place- to isolate the signal so it only came through to him. He doesn’t see you in the immediate vicinity or recognize your shape in the group before him, and his eyes narrow when he hears shuffling from your end of the connection.

He keeps going. “And hey, wouldn’t you know it- Lucifer himself has been spotted out and about Hell again! Maybe with that shitshow Hotel up and running he felt it necessary to remind Hell how royalty is supposed to behave-”

A moan warbles through his processors. “Do you think you could concentrate with me under the desk while you did your show? Choking on your cock while you try to get through the news?” He thinks he can hear something in the background, faint and slick, and he’s hard behind the shelter of the desk before he’s finished his sentence at the implication of what you’re doing on the other end.

Vox holds it together this time, managing to get through his thought about Lucifer with your soft sounds of pleasure in his ear while you touch yourself on the other end of the connection. He can’t risk checking any of his camera feeds to find where you are on the off chance of his equipment malfunctioning and showing you off for all of Hell to see; that would be a fuck of a cover-up for Velvette to handle when he offed anyone stupid enough to snap a screenshot from the broadcast and post it online. 

“I know how loud you like me to be- we could watch the footage back later and see if the production mics picked up the sound of me moaning around you… ohhh…” The sound trails off, wet and muffled like you’ve shoved something into your mouth to replicate the feeling of gagging on his cock.

Could he end his broadcast? He’s paused live on air, the set manager exchanging curious glances with the rest of the crew- he could say his battery was dying, or one of his mechanical pieces needed to be replaced; anything to get out from behind this desk and go find you, fuck you into the nearest flat surface and then maybe reprimand you for interrupting his work even if it was sexy as fuck. 

“Would anyone notice if you fucked me under the desk?” 

He feels an error message flash across his screen and he tries to recover, laughing awkwardly and shuffling his papers on the desk. “Sorry about that, folks! Just a little buffering- on to our next bit of news…” He tries to split his focus so he can keep presenting while still listening to your whimpers and soft cries through the connection. It’s not working well- he keeps getting distracted by the noises you make, causing lulls in his speech while he tries to report, the production team looking more and more frazzled the longer it goes on.

His cock is straining against his pants with the way you’re teasing him, a wet patch against the front where the tip of his erection leaks. “You’d have to gag me somehow- or everyone in the Pride Ring would get to hear what I sound like cumming on your cock.”

Vox is ready to call it. Hell could live without another fucking update on the Radio Demon- he had more important things to tend to when he managed to locate you. The team is whispering amongst themselves- “Sir?” The production manager asks hesitantly through one of the properly connected headsets, the hand holding his clipboard shaking minutely across the way.

“I don’t think you could handle it,” you whisper into your end, and that stops him from giving the order to end transmission. “You’re so vocal when you’re inside of me- I don’t think you’d last a whole segment without breaking and telling me how well I’m taking you. I’m not even there with you now and I can tell you’re thinking about shutting down production.” A breathy whine of his name, and the faint, rhythmic noise he’s been hearing intensifies as you fuck yourself harder on whatever toy you had gotten your hands on. “You’d be the one to get us caught.”

Vox closes his eyes for a moment and processes the challenge you’ve issued. “How about that acid rain, everyone?” He asks, and he hears your stilted chuckle through the headset. “Temporary glitch, nothing to worry about- rest assured that those responsible will be held accountable. Our next piece here is gonna be a big hit with those over in the Industrial district…”

He locks his shit down, reporting the news without another hitch even with the distracting sound of you in his head as you bring yourself to orgasm over and over. His cock twitches and jerks in time with the noises but he refuses to even take his hands off the desk to palm himself for some relief- that would be your responsibility once he got his fucking hands on you. The production team looks relieved that he’s back to normal, and you know better now than to try and tease him any further beyond the soft gasps of his name as you pleasure yourself.

At the scheduled time- and not a moment sooner, thank you very much- the live broadcast ends, and the connection to your headset goes dead. He turns away from his desk and finally pulls up his camera feeds; there you are, spread across his sheets all sweaty and fucked out, one hand already back between your legs and the other blowing a little kiss to the blinking red light of the camera. His stage manager hardly gets out the first part of his question about what the fuck had happened before Vox is gone, zapping into the nearest cable line and on his way to teach you a lesson about interrupting his work.

[zmediaoutlet]

This world without apocalypse—or demons, or angels, or magic of any kind, as far as Dean can tell—is… fine. It's a craphole for all the normal reasons, what with climate change and war and gas over three bunks a gallon. But—as far as Dean can tell, if he went down to the ghost highway in Nevada it'd really just be a dumb story kids tell each other at summer camp and not something that'd get his lungs torn out through his throat. If he went down to a crossroads and buried his face and name in the midnight dirt, he'd just be down a decent fake ID.

It's not like the dream he had all those years ago, when the djinn tried to give him a fantasy that was rotten through its core. This world is sterile. All the problems it has, problems of its own making, with no fate or angels or anyone trying to load the dice. You die here and—you die, and that's all. Your body rots into the earth and grass grows from the dirt above and there's no heaven or hell and no deals to be made and no responsibility to things beyond the concrete meat in front of you. Freedom, more bare and wild than anything he'd ever imagined.

He's gotten through about half the bottle, eyes dry and sore from reading, when Sam reappears, looking harried. "Hey there, People's Sexiest Man 2010," Dean says. At least there's Sam's face, when he hears it. "You think they send you a plaque or something for that?"

"If they do, this guy's probably got it in a trophy room," Sam says, revolted. His eyes drift down from the terrible gigantic version of himself behind Dean's back and to Dean's face, which for some reason makes him frown even if Dean's just—what, he's sitting here. "What?"

"How was—" Dean gestures vaguely at the ceiling. He wandered through the house while Sam was doing his own search, saw the master bedroom with its california king mattress and the his-and-hers bedside tables and the gallon-sized bottle of Wet in the drawer. Sue him, he investigates shit for a living. "You were gone a while."

Sam's mouth gets thin. Prissy bitch. "Don't laugh," he says, and ignores Dean immediately saying no promises. "Said I had a headache. She applied, like. Essential oils. Said we needed to re-align my chakras."

Dean sits back in his chair, something tense that had been wrapping itself around his spine slowly uncoiling. "Tell me she used a crystal," he says.

"Amethyst," Sam says, grim, and Dean whoops. "Dude, this world sucks."

"Oh, I dunno," Dean says, kicking his boots up onto the desk. He lifts the glass of stupid-expensive scotch he's nearly drained. "Got some perks, at least."

Sam comes around the edge of the desk, takes the glass out of his hand, and drains it. Dean would sock him one but, hey, he had some not-Ruby weirdo alpaca owner trying to align his chakras with a purple rock. Instead he leans over and pours Sam another inch or two of liquid gold. He expects him to knock it straight back but Sam only sighs, leans his hip against the desk next to Dean's boots. His thigh against Dean's calf, warm. Real, in a way all this strange day has hardly felt. Like he's been walking around a dumb Hollywood set, like if he threw a punch it'd crack through cheap painted cardboard, but then here was Sam and—there was the world, as it should be. More or less.

"People's Sexiest Man?" Sam says, after a few seconds.

Dean snorts. "People's Choice, too, for… something or other. Looks like we don't win real awards but the fans are into it. Probably for all those abs." Sam rolls his eyes, sitting back on the desk. He sets a boot on the chair next to Dean's ass so their legs press against each other, hip to ankle. "I don't know, man. It's… look, you're rich, you're a movie star or something, you're married. Demons are a crappy special effect. It doesn't one hundred percent suck."

"Genevieve says we had an affair," Sam says. Dean chokes on air, coughs, and Sam hands the glass of scotch back over. Smiling slightly, the bitch. "She wanted to use positive language about—healing with honest communication, or something. We had a huge fight but I guess they managed to cover it up and now you basically live in your trailer. Well, not you—Jason Ackles, or whatever. She thinks I've been trying to make up with you."

"Can't resist this even in an alternate universe," Dean says, when he's recovered his air. An affair. Jesus.

Sam sighs at him. "I hate this house," he says. He slides his hand under Dean's calf, pressing their knees together. "I don't care about alpacas. I don't want to be People's Choice for anything. I'll take all the crap that comes with it if I have to but I want to be home, where I've got my own name and you've got yours, and we're—who we are. Sound good?"

Dean bites the inside of his cheek. Sam raises his eyebrows, waiting. "Yeah, okay," Dean says, voice miraculously clear, and gets Sam to squeeze his calf, to lean forward. His hand sliding up Dean's thigh, his eyes steady on Dean's. Dean swallows, catches Sam's fingers. This free thing spreading wings under his breastbone. "Just—Sammy," he says, and Sam hums, eyes dropping to his mouth. "Maybe we can steal that bottle of Wet before we go?"

[bluebellhairpin]

Erwin Smith X Fem!Reader

Summary; Erwin decides he wants more from life, but he needs you on his side to accomplish his new goals - and that comes with a large apology.

Warnings; Canon-typical blood/injuries. Descriptions of reader's injuries. Erwin groveling. PTSD-like themes. Female reader.

Listening to; 'Suspicious Minds (Vocal Intro)' by Elvis Presley - "... Let our love survive, I'll dry the tears from your eyes. Let's don't let a good thing die."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

The Golden Rule; The beginning move where the Pawn that’s directly in front of the King is moved two spaces. It immediately helps control the middle of the board, and puts into play two of the most powerful pieces - a Bishop, and the Queen.

Erwin knew it. After the basement, he knew he’d need something else to sedate his hunger. A new end goal. 

Getting to Grisha Jaeger’s basement was a feat deemed impossible by his few superiors, but Erwin lived and breathed to prove the impossible possible. He had a mind that worked faster, better than most. He had a drive so powerful that only one, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, could rival. When it came down to it, Erwin got shit done. When he set his mind to something, nothing stopped him - not even death. 

Which is why, even before the battle to reclaim Shiganshina, he had planned ahead. What happened if he did die was mostly out of his hands - but if he lived? He needed something after the basement. That was a cause based on curiosity. Before then he’d been driven by a need to serve, but after that - after that was done and he could walk away mostly unscathed? He would know more. Even if he couldn’t prove some theories, they were still only ever based on straight facts. Things he’d seen and heard with his own ears. 

Or thing’s she had seen or heard. As far as he was concerned, her word was fact. 

She had known him since their first days as cadets. She had always been there, lingering on the outskirts. Before him she already knew she wanted to be a Scout, but after that she seemed content following him. Trusting him. He had used her, ignored her, let her blend into the background - and she’d done so easily. Always around but never seen. He decided if they both lived that he would change that. He decided she deserved more, and that he wanted to give her more. 

Then there was Levi Ackerman. Humanity’s Strongest. Loyal to a fault. Erwin’s dog to command if nothing more. But he was more. Levi wasn’t just a soldier, he was a leader, but most important, he was a survivor. He was dangerous, deadly, and he knew exactly how violent he needed to be to be able to walk away if backed into a corner. Really, her and Levi were the same in that one regard - that brutality, ruthlessness, their way to find a way straight to a point was shared, and really Erwin had it too. It’s why they were so similar despite being so different. 

And the final remaining true veteran of the Survey Corps. Hange Zoe. The wildcard with a mind like no other. Hange was unlike anyone else Erwin had met before. But in many ways, Hange reminded Erwin of himself. The curiosity for things beyond their borders was something they shared, although Erwin found himself thinking about this in private far more than Hange’s public displays of glee. But Hange was fearless - reckless maybe - however they had yet to place their foot wrong. There was no reason not to trust Hange, especially when they were so willing to follow what Erwin said. 

With these close friends and comrades behind him, Erwin knew what he wanted to do next. He knew what he could do with them as his loyal generals. 

He could become a king.

Read the Full Chapter on AO3! <3

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[gonzo-rella]

Fluff Alphabet: Jamie Tartt

Inspired by this post by @snk-warriors​

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Jamie Tartt x gn!reader (romantic)

Warnings: None! (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: I figured I’d finally try out the alphabet format. Let me know if you’d be interested in me doing this for another character, and feel free to send me other alphabet layouts to try out! Plus, just feel free to send in Jamie requests. Also, apologies if some of this makes my love for Keeley beyond obvious.)

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

At first, Jamie loves to take you out to dinner, shopping, or wherever he can spend money on you. 

Over time, though, I feel like he’ll become more content with just having a night in with you, doing some mundane thing like watching a film.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

I feel like Jamie’s grown to become far less shallow, so his appreciation for you is well-rounded. As cheesy as it sounds, he really appreciates who you are as a person. It’s not something he’s used to in relationships (even though Keeley had plenty to appreciate outside of her appearance).

That said, I do imagine there are physical characteristics of yours that he could spend a lifetime gazing at. If he had to choose anything specific, it’d probably be your smile and your eyes. He’s not used to people being genuinely warm to him, so it makes his heart melt when you look at him and smile at him.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Jamie will give you his full attention when you’re not feeling great. It’ll break his heart to see you looking almost broken, but he’ll engulf you in a hug and tell you everything’s going to be alright.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Jamie’s previous relationships have been relatively shallow; you’re probably the first person he’s considered an actual future with. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

At the very least, he wants you to live with him. He loves the idea of waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep beside you every night.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

You and Jamie are on equal footing in your relationship. It’s quite unexpected, since he’s a well-off footballer and you’re... well, not.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Oh, God, Jamie hates fighting with you, especially with the history of his dad. If you end up yelling at him or express anger/frustration, he’ll immediately go into panic mode because I feel like he might associate fighting with anyone with his dad being a dick to him. He’ll worry that you don’t love him anymore and he’ll just generally feel like shit. He might need a bit of space for a given period of time, but he’ll forgive you if forgiveness is warranted.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He doesn’t really express it a whole lot (at least at the start of your relationship), but he is so grateful to have you as his s/o, since he’s not exactly used to being appreciated as a person (not to bring up his dad again, but-).

If his breakup with Keeley taught him anything, it’s that he should be grateful for what he has when he has it. He’s definitely learned his lesson.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

At first, I imagine that he’s conscious about unloading too much of his emotional baggage onto you, so he’ll end up concealing his insecurities until you kind of pick up on them yourself. It’s not even like he views any of this as secrecy; he just thinks he’s shielding you from... well, himself. He’ll definitely become more and more comfortable opening up as your relationship develops, though.

When it comes to things that aren’t his emotional problems, though, he doesn’t have anything he really hides from you.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Being with you is part of what inspires Jamie on his road to self-improvement (of course along with multiple other things). You make him want to be a better person.

Since his relationship with his dad (wow, we’re sure mentioning his dad a lot) is less than ideal, I imagine that you’ll probably help him work through some of the issues he has been left with as a result of that. It’s nothing you can fix completely, but you definitely help him get through tough times.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

I feel like jealousy is something Jamie has to work on. He’s not crazy possessive nor does he get jealous easily, and it’s not like his jealousy is something you’d notice unless you were the most perceptive person on the planet.

When he experiences jealousy, it’s more linked to his insecurities. He’d probably just try to ignore it, or, failing that, seek your approval in some way. It might not be the healthiest way of dealing with it, and if you end up figuring out how he’s feeling he might open up.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Jamie absolutely prides himself on being a good kisser.

I feel like your first kiss with him would be surprisingly sweet. Like, you guys are both nervous (Jamie’s obviously trying to play it cool, and you tell him he doesn’t have to). He asks if he can kiss you, and you obviously agree. With that, he gently grabs your face and presses his lips to yours.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

He’s surprisingly awkward and nervous. Here’s how I imagined his confession in part one of my critically-acclaimed duology Inadequate.

“I really like you. It’s not because I think you’re fit. I mean, you’re still pretty fit, but, like, I dunno, I like who you are too, probably more than how you look. That doesn’t always happen for me.”

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

I feel like marriage isn’t something overly important to Jamie. He knows that he wants you in his life forever, but he doesn’t have strong feelings about marriage.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

The most common name he uses is probably ‘babe’. If you’d prefer, though, he’d probably call you some variation of your name (e.g. a shortened version of your name).

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When he’s head-over-heels in love with you, he’s (to quote Roy) a bit less of an insufferable little prick.

He tries not to be all lovey dovey and he tries his best to play it cool, but sometimes he just can’t hide how happy you make him. He smiles to himself and his teammates often notices that he looks like he’s waiting for someone when you’re not around.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Jamie will definitely check in on what you’re comfortable with before doing anything, or, at the very least, he’ll listen to you if you express any discomfort.

If he had it his way, though, he’d constantly have his arm around you or have your hand in his, and he’d give you so many kisses. Mostly because he loves you, but part of him really likes to show off that you’re his s/o.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that's beneficial in a relationship.

Maybe this isn’t all that random, but he’s got a smart mouth. He’s very good at saying things that’ll totally fluster you, much to his delight.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Jamie tries his best to do what he thinks is romantic. He’ll take you out to the nicest restaurant (he’s paying, of course) and he’ll buy you gift after gift.

But I feel like, gradually, how he shows his love will become more personal, since he’ll learn more and more about what you like, and he’ll realise that you see romance in the personal rather than the material.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Since you’re (probably) incredibly supportive of him and his career, he’ll definitely reciprocate this support.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He definitely leans more towards trying new things, though he does like having a balance between normalcy and stability and trying out new things.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

I feel like you’d probably underestimate how well Jamie knows you. When he gives a shit about someone, he picks up little things that might seem trivial to most others. He’ll definitely surprise you when he casually recalls something about you that you wouldn’t expect him to remember.

Jamie can be very empathetic. He’s been through some shit in his life despite the front he tries to put on, so odds are he understands how you feel. At the very least, he’ll try his best to understand.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

As I mentioned before, Keeley breaking up with him was a wakeup call he needed to start valuing his future S/Os.

So, he really does value you and your relationship. Of course, he’s come to value his friendships with the team, but he values your relationship just as much.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Jamie will definitely try to protect you from the press as best he can, and he’s sure to sort it out if any problems do arise.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

As you can probably guess, Jamie is incredibly affectionate. He’ll often greet you with a peck on the cheek or lips, and he’ll often find himself wrapped around you before and after you two go to sleep.

He's become desensitised to the bollockings from Roy about him being late because of these morning cuddles.

Y earning - How will they cope when they're missing their partner?

It’s apparent when you’re on Jamie’s mind. He’ll become distracted, and it’s difficult for him to get his head in the game.

The best he can do is think about how he’ll get to see you soon, and he’ll just occupy himself until then.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Jamie will definitely go to great lengths for your relationship, and he’ll do whatever it takes- within reason- to maintain it.

[riddlerosehearts]

can i be honest and just say that the snow white remake deciding to get rid of the romance is SO incredibly annoying to me because like... snow white's prince is what people like to claim the princesses are. he doesn't have a canon name, he doesn't show up anywhere except at the beginning and end of the story, literally all he does is sing to snow white and kiss her, he essentially has no personality and his one and only purpose is to be a love interest. rachel zegler claims that the original snow white has no function beyond "someday my prince will come", but really, she's an abuse victim who chooses to be kind, to have hope and to dream of love, and to take control of her own life by doing housework for the dwarves in exchange for being allowed to stay with them. the prince is the one who has no function beyond "one song", other than to rescue snow white and make her happy!!

but the thing is, he wasn't planned to be such a nothing character!! walt wanted to do more with him, if only they hadn't had so much trouble animating him at the time. and i was hoping so badly that the remake would flesh him out and give snow white a truly beautiful romance with her prince, like she deserves, because there is nothing wrong with an abused teenage girl, or any girl for that matter, wanting to find true love! but disney has decided that actually there is, i guess?! i was hoping maybe they could be childhood friends who met before snow white's parents died, because in the original movie it seems possible, to me at least, that they already knew each other and that's why he was so comfortable sneaking past the castle walls and joining in on her song, and why she was so immediately enchanted by him. that maybe the reason she was surprised at first and tried to run from him was because her abusive stepmother didn't want him around and might harm him. or if not that, maybe he wants to work out a trade deal between his kingdom and hers and he comes by and introduces himself like a normal person instead of sneaking in. but instead they're just getting rid of him entirely and at this point i'm surprised the cinderella remake gave kit and ella such a beautifully developed love story instead of just removing prince charming and making cinderella some kind of shallow girlboss.

and then also, they're not including the dwarves all because peter dinklage complained that it's stereotypical to have a story about dwarves living in a cave when, um, they literally fucking don't?!?! it's kind of a pretty significant plot point that the house snow white is staying in is their house and they just work as miners 😭 i'm so tired of celebrities who probably haven't watched a disney movie since they were in diapers thinking they need to say shit like this. AND this whole decision is not even working out for disney because now they're also getting slammed by actors with dwarfism who are understandably disappointed at losing the chance to audition for those roles. when they could've just idk, kept the dwarves and taken the opportunity to be inclusive and give work to a highly underrepresented demographic instead of removing them based on blatantly false information?? and if the dwarves working as miners is still considered stereotypical/harmful, then why not... give them a different job that isn't?

sorry it's just. ugh. disney would be nothing without snow white and every single time i see promotional stuff for the remake it's all just the cast and crew disrespecting snow white and trashing it and saying they're making it better by cutting out its most important elements. i have nothing to look forward to with this movie anymore (not that i was looking forward to it that much to begin with) because apparently the only thing it shares with the original is its title character, and i'm sure she'll also be nothing like her animated counterpart.

edit because i didn't really expect anyone to see this: idk if the whole "getting rid of the romance" thing is true because after writing this i remembered that i've also heard something about the prince getting replaced with a new "robin hood-esque" love interest named johnathan?? so if they're still keeping him then there will still be romance i guess, it just won't be the classic fairytale romance snow white is associated with, and my frustration toward them choosing not to develop the prince into an actual character still stands. ESPECIALLY SINCE i also read that snow is supposed to "ride into battle with him"?! snow white?! imagine if in cinderella (2015) they changed prince charming into a roguish robin hood type and had ella fight battles with him. it would've been so weird and so far removed from the animated cinderella in a very jarring way. i hate it. also, because of an annoying tag i got on this post i also feel the need to add that i do NOT have a problem with "political correctness" or rachel zegler being latina lmao. i do, however, have a problem with her insulting the original snow white while openly admitting that she has not watched the movie since she was a child.

[jacksprostate]

having finished rewatching the movie recently, me and @a-forsteri I think nailed down a little about what fundamentally is different about the dynamic between the narrator and Tyler in the book vs the movie. Beyond the book being more violent and dark and the narrator being much less reserved about participating in all of it, I mean.

Fundamentally, the strife between Tyler and the narrator in the book is the narrator's failure to commit to anything. Blowing up his old life — blew up his condo, still goes to work. Saying fuck you to his job — acts like shit, takes until Tyler intervenes to actually 'quit' (he doesn't but Tyler does kill his boss so basically). Hell, even hating his job — he does, plenty, but he stores all his feelings about his boss in Tyler and pretends Tyler's feelings have no source in him. Pursuing his ideal of changing things — joins and creates fight club, project mayhem, immediately backs out once Tyler is shown to not be real. He does project mayhem assignments, doesn't even quit his real job. Tyler does it. A gift to him. The thing he wanted to do before he died. Thinks about suicide constantly — doesn't actually kill himself, never fully lives, either. Killing Tyler — he tries repeatedly because he gets it in his head, but fails repeatedly until he shoots himself to evade the cops. And that in itself is arranged by Tyler. Tyler tries leaving the narrator and that does manage to make the narrator commit to being fucking annoying, but not much more. Still not actually making choices with impact. The narrator had to know the fight club men wouldn't kill him. He backed away from the edge. Tyler ultimately creates a circumstance to force the narrator to choose and commit to life or death. Tyler is trying to make the narrator better even if it means the narrator chooses to kill them and even if it means Tyler is the evil guy intending to martyr them — if that's what's needed for the narrator to choose, then fine.

In contrast, the movie focuses more on his inability to let go of his old life. Slide. Tyler will haul him kicking and screaming and one day the narrator will thank him. Tyler says relax, let me do what I'm doing. The narrator can't let go — gets cold feet about mayhem, can't imaine sex with Marla, quits his job but only on orders of his new boss. Refuses to grow beyond him. Dependent as always. He can't let go of it. Tyler gives him a near life experience, tells him about the future he is crafting for him, and leaves him to sleep as Tyler works to secure their future. All the narrator has to do is let it happen. Let himself become the person who is free to change his life. Let himself evolve and break things, stop clinging to his past. Again, Tyler is trying to make the narrator better. They are less separate— Tyler doesn't ever tell the narrator that he has essentially given up on him, they're going to live separate lives now, he says the narrator has to forget everything he knows about them. And when he tells the narrator the truth, he says we don't have time for this. He will hold the narrator down, he will put a gun to his head if that's what it takes to force the narrator to let go and let it all happen. It is all always steps in his plan. For the narrator.

Both Tylers, making little chrysalises.

Book Tyler? I don't know if he wants the narrator to become him. He's more independent. He still cares, the narrator is still his purpose, but it was the narrator's refusal of Tyler giving up on him that provoked Tyler to his artfully megalomaniac ending.

Movie Tyler, he does. He wants the narrator to grow, become what he wants to be. That's Tyler Durden. Maybe they merge. But The point is— if the narrator would let go of who he was, every step takes him closer to who he wants to be. Tyler. And Tyler has less actions that speak of his own desires and grown independence, even with how much he does and plans, because it's all for the narrator.

Tl;dr

Book: narrator's lack of commitment, more independent Tyler, narrator pushes them into the climax

Movie: narrator's unwillingness to let go, less of Tyler as an individual more as the vehicle for the narrator's enlightenment into him, Tyler pushes them into the climax

Both: Tyler ultimately acts to benefit the narrator as he sees it

[sharonisthebettercarter]

Billy was in denial when he said "I don't hate kids" to Becca's face.

little bit kinda, but i actually think it's a little more complex than that.

billy's... well, let's just be honest, lmao, he's a fuckin' serial killer. and really heavily badly terribly absolutely addicted. to violence. and just being an all around terrible human being.

if i'm totally honest? i think 'hate' is a strong word. i think he just... honestly does not give a shit about kids *for the mostish part*? he straight up uses a baby as a murder weapon and then threatens to kill the baby 'if he needs to'. he also threatens teddy stillwell pretty callously and leik.

stillwell was murdered. homelander had murdered her. there was zero need to blow up the house--and teddy stillwell--but butcher, not giving a shit about that literal baby in the room with them, just... goes and does it anyway.

so kind of a mixed bag? i mean def a cunt. he's not out there murdering babies and children as a main target, but he's also not above murdering them.

when it comes to ryan, i think there's even more of a mixed bag. ryan is *becca's* kid. but if ryan didn't exist, butcher, at least in his mind, would have probably had his happy ending (i think he would have fucked it up with or without homewanker but that's a bit of a different bag)

thing is, butcher's *afraid* and ashamed of *one* very specific thing in particular that both enables and hinders him in living the life he'd want. the character has a ton of bravado, right?

but when you look at him as a character? butcher kind of... isn't his own person. beyond what his father wanted him to be, he has very little identity which kinda puts him in a very similar boat to homelander. the difference being his self awareness of this problem and the self loathing it brings (hence the constant self punishment)

i don't think butcher 'hates' kids per say? don't get me wrong, i do think a part of him does. but less so the kid itself and more so the idea of what that kid can make him become and what he fears being--his father.

children are innocent, so they're going to immediately reflect that *fear* back at butcher like they're holding up little mirrors.

he is consciously aware of what his father did to him and how he turned out because of it, so children, especially one close to him? considered family? becca's family?

it's a firm reminder of everything he hates about himself, because consciously, he'd never want to put that on a *child* (remember the dream with lenny?)

unconsiously? he defaults on pulling that bullshit *anyway* (hughie would be the perfect example here).

i do think there def was an element of denial there, and billy is at least somewhat self aware of it but it's also def more complex than simply hating kids for him imo

there i go again with another ramble, hope it makes at least some sense lmao~<3

[givemeanaccountalready]

Prev

So while that happens, the entirety of the Hidden Leaf are freaking tf out. Not only did they just lose the first (publicly known) Wood Release user since Lord First immediately after they got her, but they also lost the jinchuuriki too. Anyone who is not in Root has no clue who Sai is or where he came from (hint: inside the walls). It is a disaster.

Sai and Sakura had their little bout of fisticuffs in the Academy schoolyard. Sasuke saw the Wood Release and is like, that might be useful, I need to learn that. He leaves to try and find out where they could have gone. Unlike the adults who are rightfully going wtf, Sasuke is like, sick jutsu bro. He finds Sakura’s little hideout and her diary with all her notes inside. Any pretense of not caring beyond learning a rad new jutsu flies out the treehouse as he sees various mentions of this “Keigo” guy (Sakura named Sai Keigo because he called her Ugly in an attempt to give her a friendly nickname and she cried (no self-esteem), forcing him to explain what the hell he was thinking. Since he told her to give him a name since he didn’t have one and kept being rude, she named him “Polite Speech” as a middle finger) and Naruto is the son of the Nine Tails (that was her best theory, cut her some slack, she was 11 when she came up with it). Sasuke firmly believes that this Keigo guy is an enemy nin who is using his classmates, and decides, yeah I can rescue them because he’s 12 and never not been able to figure shit out. How hard could a rescue op be?

Very hard is the answer. He is able to leave a shadow clone behind to get his classmates (you know, all the clan heirs that you don’t want to lose) to leave the village with him to “find Naruto and Sakura” (really, it’s to throw the searchers off and cause a distraction so he can solve the issue and leverage them for answers about Naruto’s relationship to the Nine Tails). Sasuke is also stuck with this old guy who claims he’s Jiraiya of the Sannin, but really, he’s just a dirty, old man who keeps chasing skirts at every rest stop they’re at. It’s annoying, but the guy might die if Sasuke leaves him alone because if he keeps calling himself a Sannin, people are going to try and kill him. Sasuke still can’t quite believe that Jiraiya is Jiraiya of the Sannin, even after he meets Tsunade. He’s not entirely convinced Tsunade is Tsunade Senju either, and feels for Shizune. Shizune is trying her very best not to laugh at Jiraiya and Tsunade when Sasuke is like, yeah, sure you’re a Sannin, and I have a loving, living family, now chop, chop, put the vices down, we got idiots to hunt down.

These are the shitpost meme esque vibes I got going on:

Jiraiya: “Dear God, whoever took them must be a master of evasion.”

Cut to the three idiots arguing over whether moss only grows on the north side of trees. They personify the song “Lost” from the Percy Jackson musical

Sai: “This would be so much easier if we still had a map.”

Sakura: “It was an accident! You make dinner next time!”

Sai: 100% earnest “Sure, I like eating things with flavor.”

Sakura: “Why you little-” Homer Simpson chokes him

Naruto: holding up the charred remains of their map “Hold on guys, I think we might be near this little, not burnt bit.”

Sai: “No, we’re not. We passed that point two days ago.”

Naruto: “Maybe we went in a circle?”

Sakura: “FUCK!”

Sasuke: goes up to the sleeping Jiraiya “WAKEY WAKEY” immediately uses a water jutsu to drown him awake

Jiraiya: “AAAAAAH!!” Coughs up water “I taught you that jutsu so you could put out any fires started by your Fire Release practice on your own.”

Sasuke: “I’d say a dumpster fire counts.”

Danzo: looks up from his desk “Why do I hear boss music?”

A wild Itachi appears

Tsunade: “Let me get this straight. The Hidden Leaf lost two Academy students who not only were they the worst in their physical training scores, but they also have the potential to be some of the biggest powerhouses in this generation. And you two are their only hope at finding them because the Leaf doesn’t want to alert the other villages to what they lost by sending out an actual search party?”

Sasuke: “Yup.”

Jiraiya: “That pretty much covers it. So? Will you help us?”

Tsunade: starts cackling

[stormxpadme]

Whumptober 2023 No. 14 - Flare

Scogan Bingo challenge Soulmate: You feel the same sensations your soulmate is feeling (pain, touch, sexual)

Since it was Jean's death, to blame for triggering this whole thing in the first place, it wasn’t too extraordinary that at first, no one, including Scott and Logan, even noticed.

Hell, they'd just lost a woman they had both loved, each in their own way; of fucking course, they felt similarly shitty in the few days following the clusterfuck that had been Alkali Lake. None of their teammates, or of the children and teenagers at Mutant High, expected anything different from either of them than locking themselves up in their respective apartments right now.

Well, Logan for his part would at least not have put it beyond that obsessive asshole he was calling a team leader to dive back headfirst into his work immediately, admittedly. Or to train himself to death in the Danger Room.

Anything just to forget the same pain that Logan was drinking away in his living room in a not much healthier way, with one bottle of the hard stuff after the other on his lips. Silently, mostly unmoving, ignoring occasional headaches and rare bouts of nausea behind his forehead as his healing factor was, curiously, slightly busier than usual dealing with that auto-assault.

But … no. Judging by the few shy status updates that Marie was giving Logan whenever she came by uninvited with a tray of the most necessary carbs and coffee, Scott, at least until the morning of the funeral planned, was indeed barricading himself in that flat on the other side of the hallway. From time to time, he was giving the other residents a life sign by picking up, unseen at night, one of the water bottles from the otherwise untouched supplies that the other X-Men or the pupils kept leaving outside his door. No one had seen him since that quick trip to Washington after the Alkali Lake crisis but whenever an especially bad bout of memory and regret hit, Logan could hear the guy hurl some shit against the walls or sob particularly uncontrolled.

He was mildly confused every time how much that hurt from someone whom he suddenly found, he wasn’t loathing half as much as he'd used to anymore. Dwell on that, he didn’t for now, though; for that, he was far too busy screaming into his own pillows and questioning all his life choices. And make it to the bathroom as gracefully as possible every now and then, in spite of some weirdly intense dizziness in his head, as if drinking for a week nonstop was too much even for a feral. Getting rid of whatever body fluid even his robust system couldn’t just sweat out was all he could bring himself to for now, before going back to nursing the next drink. Not like he could have gotten up to much right now anyway, with that bitch of a headache. Which was just as well. Logan wasn’t the type to sit down in a black tie in a row together with other mourners and listen to speeches about a dead person from people who surely hadn’t even known Jean well enough to be qualified to hold one. He would have stayed the fuck away from that ceremony in the backyard either way. Accordingly, only a warning, dismissive growl came from his lips when Ororo entered his apartment without even knocking, signaling him with an unambiguous gesture to get off his ass, while Logan's enhanced senses could pick up in the distance that everyone was gathering in said garden. "'m not coming, so fuck off. I don’t do funerals."

"I don't give a shit what you usually do." Ororo only smiled bitterly when he winced at the expression feeling too crude for someone always looking and expressing themselves so ethereally. A gesture that dug deep lines around the downward-pulled corners of her mouth that Logan had never noticed before. Alkali Lake had let everyone – except for him, naturally – age 10 years or so. "Will you get up voluntarily or do I need to douse you with some rain? Honestly, the way you smell I'd do us all a favor."

"I said I'm not …"

Logan paused with a frown and tensed when the familiar bright voice of the mansion's leader from a certain apartment next door suddenly shouted Ororo's name, in an unusual breaking, upset tone. Charles had apparently tried the same job Ororo had come to Logan for … And whatever the guy had found in what had once been Scott's and Jean's apartment was obviously off.

With a curse, Logan jumped up when unexpected, bone-deep worry surged through him, cursing himself for not checking in person on that goddamn idiot over there at least once in the last few days. Maybe Scott was in a far worse condition than they'd all thought after all and had decided to try and end that miserable existence of his while everyone was busy in the garden … Logan didn’t get a chance to check because he suddenly had to hold on to the sofa backrest, his legs almost giving in under him as that weird dizziness and throb behind his forehead returned, too strongly to follow Ororo's hectic footsteps outside. Fuck, alright, no more vodka, at least for a few hours … How much his body was really betraying him for some reason, he only realized when an inhumane, gruesome pain like a blade to his guts suddenly hit his right upper belly, so strong that it got him to his knees at last, with strangled groans on his lips. What the …? Anyone not familiar with the characteristics of ferals would probably have told him now that it served him just right, after drinking basically his weight in booze for a week, that his liver threatened to give in on him out of the blue, only that didn’t make any fucking sense …

"Logan, we got an emergency. You need to take Scott …" Ororo, on her way back inside his apartment, froze on the spot when she saw him cowering there on the alcohol-stained carpet with a grimace of agony on his lips, clutching both his side and his head as he was trying in vain to breathe through whatever the fuck was happening. A look somewhere between utter bewilderment, a hint of amusement, and growing shock had the color drain even more from that beautiful face as Ororo covered it with one hand, slowly shaking her head. "You gotta be kidding me …"

Logan didn’t get around to asking what kind of fucking epiphany the woman thought she was having. Another stab into his brain as if he'd attacked himself with his own claws drew a scream from his lips while something in his belly felt like it was exploding, and suddenly the world went black.

*****

"If this is your idea of humor, Windrider …" Technically, Logan had been feeling significantly better upon waking up. The explanations as to why that was, both from Ororo and from some weird blue furry guy who was in the process of moving into Mutant High to take over Jean's medical duties, apparently, immediately made him nauseous again though. Not to mention the insignificant little detail that he couldn’t even have gone up from that damn medical stretcher to try and run and hide from what he'd just been told, even if he'd been willing to leave Scott alone in the sick bay with two apparently clinically insane people. Exhaustion was sitting in every cell of his body and his mind, making every movement hard work. He was slurring his words, his attempts to wrap his brain around why that was significantly slowed.

And all of that … allegedly thanks to the man in the bed standing next to Logan's. More specifically thanks to the huge IV bags of narcotics that Scott was being hooked to.

This had to be a joke, this couldn’t be happening …

"Do you see us laughing? No one in this house has any spoons left for stupid pranks right now." After checking on Scott's artificially slowed but fortunately steady vitals again that the monitor belonging to all the fancy alien tech equipping these halls displayed, fur guy came to stand next to Ororo. The way, he rested his hand on her shoulder for a moment, squeezing it softly spoke of those two going way back. Sharing many of Logan's feral characteristics, Hank must also be smelling the growing exhaustion in Ororo, a lack of proper nourishment, and especially the tears trying to come to the surface again and again. The woman wasn’t grieving any less than Scott and Logan did, and that their embarrassing little health stunt had made another delay of the funeral necessary surely didn’t help start processing the recent tragedy.

Logan was feeling sorry for her but with what was about to wreck his life harder than one of Ororo's hurricanes all of a sudden, he didn’t have emotional energy left for comfort right now. "You guys just told me I'm trapped in a forced marriage, so forgive me for calling bullshit on some pseudo-science fairy tale, King Kong."

"No one's forcing anything on you." Apparently sensing, Logan was feeling honestly more upset and lost by the second, Ororo changed from her chair to the bedside after giving Hank's paw a brief squeeze, and gently took Logan by both shoulders, effectively stilling his weak attempts to sit up even a little. When she bent over him, she scrunched her nose, blinking rapidly, for a second, causing Logan to make a mental note about maybe visiting a bathroom soon for something else than relieving himself after all. "Try to lie still, please. As long as we have to keep Scott under, your body won't let you go anywhere either. I'm sorry this is happening to you two, Logan, I mean it. No one saw that coming or could prevent it. It's fate, accident, a higher power, call it whatever you want. No one knows. The reason you haven’t heard about soul bonds before is that they're so rare, we didn’t even have an entry in our database of phenomena so far. If I didn’t happen to know two cases from my African homelands, we might not even have realized what's wrong with you two before it would have been too late. As this is a one-in-a-million thing, there's no records and hardly any science on it. We're basically flying blind here. You two are bonded in your minds now; that much we know. And as far as anyone knows, that condition is irreversible. But whatever you make of it, is only your choice."

"Some kind of choice." Logan snorted and turned his head away from the compassionate look in Ororo's dark eyes because he wasn’t sure he could deal with pity right now. Now his gaze was right back on that tall but worryingly thin shape on the neighboring bed, and that wasn’t much better. He wanted to be pissed at this guy just for existing more than ever. Yet he tried in vain to conjure up the same childish rage from the beginning at someone who was so damn different from him … And yet, not least when it came to their job and their protective instinct regarding those close to them, at the same time so very similar. Logan had never managed, not before Alkali Lake and especially not after Jean's death, to make any sense of how his feelings about this man had changed with time, into something that went far beyond respect for a strong leader. Into something that, at first glance, by the usual boring, standard social morals, hadn’t seemed to fit his affectionate yearning for Jean at all. And now he sure as fuck knew even less how to deal with Scott. "What choice do I got when you're telling me, he and I would probably be killing each other if we just ignore this? If I wanted to fuck off from here again for example? What do you think would happen then, if we feel everything in our body of what's going on with the other? I'm stuck here now, 'Ro, you know that as well as I do. Whatever plans I had for my own life, for finding my past, it's all fucked."

"Stop it with the doomsday funk. That's not like you." Ororo only grabbed his shoulders even harder to make him look at her again, and Logan could have sworn to see Scott slightly startle even in his induced sleep from the touch apparently indeed mirrored in the guy's mind. This was some fucked up shit, goddamnit. "I told you, we don't know anything for sure. But one of the theories is that telepaths are either knowingly or accidentally responsible for causing such phenomena with their powers. Which, by the way, you two might be contemplating once Scott is back to his feet. Maybe you can think of a certain someone who was trying to give you two a gift in her last moments alive, consciously or not." For a moment, Ororo's voice threatened to break but she put herself together when it was Logan this time, clumsily reaching for her hand on his arm. "I'm just saying, if this is a telepath thing, we happen to have one of the leading authorities on the subject in this house, you know. Charles already offered to engage in as many mental sessions with you two as is necessary until we get to the bottom of this. It's possible that with time, he can cut the bond. And until then? I'm pretty sure, with how fond that idiot over there is of you for some weird reason, he won't say no if you ask him for the occasional road trip to hunt down leads."

"Yeah, I'll pass on that until I educated the guy on bearable tunes," Logan gave back with a weak grin, an exaggerated shudder at the memory of a certain CD in Scott's car.

"Driver picks the music," Ororo reminded him with a weary chuckle, obviously glad, he could at least find something like a smile in him again in spite of the shitty situation. "For now, all you two need to do is take care of each other physically. What you make of that in the long run … If you can find it in you to explore what Jean might have thought could be between you there … That's only up to you guys. We'll help you with anything you need as much as we can, that at least I can promise you."

Logan ran a still very heavy hand through his hair with an absent groan, not even close to sort out the emotional chaos in his head yet. But since he had to anyway, he might be getting at least a little closer to trying now. Starting with that he'd be obviously obliged to be a lot more informed about the sick bay file of one Scott Summers than he'd ever cared for. "You can start by telling me why exactly I'm lying around here as if Rogue's just kissed me unconscious instead of spending another evening with my best friend Vladimir on the sofa."

"Yeah, about that." Hank cleared his throat with a scathing look distorting his animalistic features. "No more benders unless you two are both on holiday and you've cleared with Scott that he's okay with spending hours knocked out on the sofa. That your healing factor can deal with an amount of booze that would kill anyone else doesn’t mean he will be okay with being forced into a delirium without even touching a single glass."

"Yeah, well, tough shit, I'm not becoming abstinent because someone can't hold their liquor," Logan grumbled, fully knowing already that he wouldn’t be touching the same amount of alcohol anytime soon. Mostly because Scott was a lot more fun to spar with, both with words and in the gym, when he was of a sane mind. "Besides, you said, what we're feeling from each other is only sensation and not the actual cause, so it obviously wasn’t me who knocked Scooter out by accident. Wanna tell me why you really got him on a dozen needles?"

"Drug overdose," Ororo answered for Hank, surprisingly sober for a tidbit that punched into Logan's stomach like a steeled fist, trying to stir up that guilt again that he hadn’t checked on that stupid idiot across the hall in time. "Not what you think," she added immediately, to his relief, squeezing his hand again firmly. "I don't suppose you happened to wonder why you suddenly can’t hold your liquor anymore?" She demonstratively tapped her forehead with two fingertips, nodding jerkily when Logan's eyes went wide. "It's a flare of the particularly nasty kind. We think it's Jean's death that caused it. Intense emotional stress tends to cause mutation gifts to evolve. In Scott's case, that always means that his optic blasts are growing even more powerful, and that's always bad news. Since he can't control it and his shields need to hold back his powers all the time, there's basically nonstop pressure from the recoil on his brain. That's always been a problem. I don't know Scott other than on his weekly Advil ever since we met. But right now, the pain must be unbearable enough that he's almost shredded his liver to pieces with those damn pills. Nothing that Shi’ar medicine and tech can't fix, but unless we want to give him a complete physical overhaul to prevent organ failure every half a year or so from now on, we need to find a solution for this, somehow. Charles is already trying to contact the Shi’ar, to see if they have an idea. Unfortunately, with their ships millions of lightyears away, it can take months until such a conversation happens."

"And until then …?" The frown of honest concern and compassion on Logan's face deepening, he finally managed to sit up a little, relieved when Ororo got the silent, slightly embarrassed hint of his eyes darting to the unmoving figure on the other bed, and pulled the stretcher closer so that Logan could rest one trembling hand on Scott's arm. He shuddered instinctively when he felt how much weight Scott really had lost in those last few days alone. No wonder Logan had felt the need to fill his own stomach with as much fluid as possible. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t continuing, for reasons of self-protection alone. It was Logan's job now to look out for that guy … And with time, maybe, he'd be able to decide if that happened only because, while his body was equipped to deal with pain, Logan had never been a masochist. Maybe in truth, it was for a reason, he'd become an integral part of this team in the short time between Alkali Lake and Liberty Island, becoming a living shield, especially for this guy. Maybe it also wasn’t chance that it had been him and none of the others, to hold Scott in the moment of Jean's death when they'd both felt something crucial in their life break away, fall apart … Not realizing, something maybe just as important had been given to them in turn.

"Until then he'll have to try and get by with sensory reduction, as much rest as possible, and every amount of painkillers that his system can take," Hank explained gravely, sounding audibly unconvinced and unhappy with such a makeshift solution. "I can wake him up as soon as the Shi’ar tissue adhesive is done repairing his liver and stomach, and I guess he'll be out of here by the end of the week, but don't expect to see him return to work anytime soon. I hate to say this, but this might be a good time to consider taking over leading duties for either of you two."

"Yeah, not gonna happen, King Kong." Logan didn’t even need to look back at Ororo to know there was a similar look on her face. Neither of them was suited for the front row permanently; this was entirely out of the question. Not to mention that Logan was pretty sure that if Scott was now to lose the only other thing in his life he was so used to obsessing about? The next thing with regard to these shared sensations that Logan would have to witness was his own heart stopping to beat when the guy would throw himself on some sword or cut his wrists. The alternative wasn’t something that exactly thrilled him either … Then again, on second thought, maybe the idea vaguely forming in him right now would at least be a stale replacement for drinking his worries away which was notoriously off the table for the moment. "Those famous Shi’ar drugs you got there, McCoy ... Think there's some painkillers among them that'd do anything for me?"

"With your healing factor? Huh. We'd need to run a few tests, I suppose." Hank paused for a moment, rubbing through his beard with a thoughtful hum, not quite catching on yet what Logan was suggesting while Ororo already stared at him in both bewilderment and a good deal of respect and gratefulness. "You'd still be burning through the substances a lot faster than anyone else, but with an IV big enough … I guess we could get you through a couple of hours. I don't see why you'd need that though. Your body can repair pretty much anything within a couple of minutes, so there's no need to numb anything for you …" He paused, his glance falling on Scott's lifeless shape when he finally understood, and almost dropped the datapad he'd been swiping around on. "Careful there, Wolverine. You keep this up, they'll start calling you a nice guy."

Logan showed the guy an extended middle claw just for good measure and let out a silent curse when he saw Scott startle and stiffen again in his sleep, until the usual burning and stinging from the closing wounds on Logan's knuckles subsided. Well, that made it official: He was forbidden from anything fun from now on. So that was what being Scott Summers was like. Welcome to the experience or something. "Shut it, King Kong. Yes or no?"

"Charles will have to manipulate himself another trust fund just to finance the resupplies of all these extraterrestrial drugs that we're gonna need." Hank tiredly rubbed his eyes behind his narrow glasses for a moment but showed a lopsided grin then. "He's very fond of his current team constellation though so that's probably going to be a much smaller headache than our young captain here is dealing with right now. Come on, Ororo, I think we're needed for an urgent staff meeting in Charles' office. I trust you'll keep an eye on things here for us, Logan."

Logan had another vicious remark on his lips about hardly having a choice in the matter. But it was with quickly increasing resignation he found, amazingly, maybe he didn’t even want one.

*****

The first few days were hell. And that had nothing to do with the constant nausea and annoying fatigue from being hooked to aggressive chemicals for half an hour every morning.

Scott, to everyone's confusion, took the news far more composed than Logan had. Side effect of having been in a relationship with a telepath for years, Logan supposed. At least a mental bond wasn’t exactly anything new for Scott. Plus, the guy was still far too traumatized from Alkali Lake to get his panties in a knot even about making close acquaintance with someone he'd only used to fight with for the better part of their time together so far. Besides, with how blindly the dude trusted that shade bag Xavier still, after everything, he was probably having all his hopes on this annoying condition being reversed someday. Or he had decided that almost offing himself by accident over one life-shattering incident in his life was more than enough for the time being and that he had no emotional capacity right now, lamenting over a couple of inconveniences.

Logan couldn’t even loathe that compartmentalizing asshole enough for being so unfazed, to drown out the growing attachment he felt to him, with every hour they inevitably spent from that day on more. And there were lots of those. Finding a mutually useful working rhythm for their new life situation was about as exhausting as anyone would expect. When everything going on in someone else's body was inevitably mirrored on your own, you couldn’t help but deal with it, explore it, possibly reverse it if it was anything bad. Truth was, Scott and Logan hadn’t talked that much in all that time that they'd been knowing each other. And with each thing, Logan came to learn about that supposedly rich kid douche whom he'd wanted to punch in the face in his first days at Mutant High, he felt more like a fucking idiot.

Thanks to his amnesia, there was obviously not a lot he could return the favor with, of learning about atrocities in Scott's life like teenage drug trades, Essex and a lot worse captivities than with Weapon X. But Logan at least tried not to be a total asshole when Scott unambiguously told him, for example, that one glass of booze at night was more than enough and that he could very well do without feeling like having a heart attack in the gym every day, just because Logan couldn’t control his caffeine intake.

Logan, on his part, quickly cured Scott of the habit of using the damn bathroom far too rarely because not everyone had the height of a damn tree and the bladder size to go with it. Logan's kink list did not include a constant pressure to piss, thank you very much. He also made very sure to drag Scott to Hank every other hour, in spite of all cursing and resistance, whenever Logan felt something else sting, burn, throb in his body that definitely did not belong there and that Scott had never bothered to get checked out in all these years. Those Shi’ar scanners and tools got a lot to do in that first adjustment period.

And no matter how much Scott pretended to hate him for this every time, he never failed to come by Logan's apartment afterward with a six-pack for another evening of watching some game on the couch until they both fell asleep in their respective corner. Their yelling matches in the first three months after Jean's death were legendary, they were told later, but at some point, miraculously? They had sorted it all out.

The fact that at this point, Logan had also basically moved into Scott's apartment because that had simply made things easier, was just a side note in their very personal little soap opera. It never failed to amaze Logan how comfortable he'd become in Scott's presence, so much that he didn’t even really think about it anymore when he fell asleep on that damn couch to the sound of some game or waded into the shower half-asleep in the morning. Which helped to get at least somewhat awake before their usual drug session at the sick bay that was keeping Scott's headaches at a manageable bay for the rest of the day. Maybe, some things, you didn’t need to question. It was a quickly familiar rhythm of recovering, teaching, waiting for good news from Charles' office in vain, and another evening of either a friendly chat on that couch or watching their favorite teams fuck up on TV in comfortable silence, over leftovers or takeout. Something, Logan thought he could get used to in the long run. Accordingly, he didn’t even think about it that much when one of these nights, after the light had gone out, a certain natural urge hit. It was honestly surprising that this hadn’t happened before, given his feral instincts were usually very basic in that regard, just like about every other natural body function. With all that had happened lately, Logan had mostly just ignored the thought whenever it had come up, too exhausted or busy or both to follow it anyway. But feeling something like peace again after all the excitement, maybe for the first time in years, even, he found on that night, lying alone in the dark as so often, he was too riled up to fall asleep. He wasn’t too shocked anymore at contemplating if that maybe had to do something with walking into the bathroom to a stark naked Scott in the shower by accident earlier. That wasn’t a bridge either of them was even remotely ready to cross yet, and Logan had never been in a hurry about such things anyway. But denying that it was a remarkably attractive piece of behind on his mind right now, that he'd spotted there before creeping back out the door silently, would have been a lie. Or a, thanks to some resumed training very well-defined, broad shoulder line. Those sinfully long, strong legs … Definitely a nice image to recall when Logan slipped one hand into his loose sweatpants without thinking much about it, not surprised at how hard he suddenly was. This wouldn’t take long. Moving his fist up and down his aching length with his eyes firmly closed, he allowed himself to indulge in a fantasy he was no longer shying away from, of what would have happened if he hadn’t sneaked back out earlier, if he'd joined Scott in the shower instead, maybe … Exploring that attractive body with his hands and tongue, licking off every drop of water while he went to his knees for the guy, ever until that cute piece of ass would be right in his sight. A twitching, untouched hole just waiting to be devoured with his tongue while his hand would be busy, playing with those heavy, large balls …

"How about you get into my bed and we continue things there before you make us both come early, Claws?"

That low, hoarse voice from the direction of the bedroom had Logan startling so much, he promptly almost fell off that stupid sofa. Tearing his hand away from his straining erection, his cheeks were suddenly a bright red as he realized how thoughtless he'd been for a moment, not even considering that yes, of course, Scott would feel that too. Not the touch itself, not that, thankfully – not from their own hands, at least. That part at least, their connection had spared them. Which was not a given, as they'd found out painfully in the very beginning, during a sparring session in the Danger Room with the others. Neither of them was a very tactile person on principle; therefore, that every touch from someone else on their soulmate, they would experience themselves, too, hadn’t occurred to them until then. Not before the first full body check from a fully metal-encased shape ramming Scott's, promptly sending Logan flying to the ground from the pain as well. After that, they'd known better than not keeping their distance from people even more than before. That surely most inconvenient part of their connection though did not affect what they did to their own bodies themselves. So Logan had been neglectful for a moment, not even considering what kind of sensations giving in to this primitive desire might be causing inside his mate anyway ...

Seeing in the weak shine of Scott's bedside lamp now how flushed the guy's cheeks were, hearing him breathe slightly faster and irregularly, and spotting a definitely very interesting-sized bulge at the front of his night pants, Logan decided, maybe that had been one of his more sensible decisions lately.

Never bothering with a verbal answer, he got up and swung over the back of the sofa, more stumbling in his sudden hurry to get to Scott than walking. Ignoring the slight stinging on his own scalp as he buried both hands in his mate's hair, he pulled Scott down to him for a desperate kiss, moaning in need when he felt against his stomach how hard his lover was already, the air heavy with a hint of sweet salt and both their labored breathing. His tongue deeply slipping into Scott's mouth, Logan found with exasperated amusement, he needed to dial down on the cigars because the guy definitely tasted a lot better than he did.

But Scott didn’t seem to mind a lot, willingly opening his lips for him to let him in. Already, large, impatient hands stroked under Logan's shirt, raking through the fuzz on his chest, massaging and groping everywhere they could reach. A whimper came from Scott's lips when his fingertips found Logan's nipples and tugged, harshly enough for Logan to make a note about how rough his lover apparently liked it in bed. Then he startled with a sigh of pure pleasure as Logan bit down on his lower lip in retaliation, almost hard enough to draw blood. "Fuck … Need you … Want you, Logan …"

That last part, that was the important thing. That was what Logan had maybe needed to hear to act on these long-simmering desires. Because that they needed each other was clear ever since the day they'd been bonded, and neither of them had asked for that. But how much, how quickly and intensely they'd fallen for each other after that, that had been only their own decision. And now that Logan knew it had indeed been a mutual one, he was more than ready to finally give in to that wish to take their connection to the next stage. Unable to wait any longer, he dropped to his knees, casually pulling down Scott's pants as he went, his mouth already on that fine dark layer of hair on the base of his destination as he inhaled his lover's grounded scent deeply, his fingers clenching down on that beautiful ass just as he'd fantasized about it a minute ago. Logan had to try hard not to come on the spot when he immediately experienced that dominant hold on his own body – that was definitely something he still had to get used to in spite of all experiences of a similar kind in the last few months. Finally getting his mouth on the head of his lover's thick cock made it torture to hold back as he felt his own straining length worshipped with long, greedy licks, the pressure of a curious tongue, of tightly working throat muscles as he easily swallowed that beautiful piece of cock down, holding Scott in place by his grip on his lover's hips. Just imagining what it would feel like once he'd actually get around to playing with this perfect ass, to bury himself in that tight channel to the hilt, had Logan's head spin. He was pretty sure, there would be a lot of rings of a certain kind involved in the immediate future for such encounters, to keep his peculiar feral stamina from ruining things half a minute in, thanks to that assault of sensations from two sides at once … But for now, none of that counted. For now, he enjoyed simply his partner's taste on his tongue. The way, Scott was shaking and writhing under him and the pleading sound of his name on his lover's lips as Logan's hand was firmly closing down on the root of his cock, his balls, keeping both himself and his mate from coming too soon at the same time. With his head quickly bobbing back and forth, his tongue darting forward to tease Scott's loins, the underside of his cock again and again, Logan found every lingering anxiety and grief for everything that he'd lost in his life subside at least for the moment, drowned out by that double sensation of basically sharing one body with someone else. Something that he'd dreaded so much in the beginning and that now gave him an unexpected kind of peace in a period of his life when war was once more around the corner every single minute. When he finally loosened his grip around his lover and thrust his head forward tightly once more, swallowing firmly around Scott's jerking cock until he could feel his lover come straight down his throat, while spilling his own load all over his hand and the floor, Logan decided that maybe, Scott and he didn’t even need to worry that much about if Charles would ever make it to separate them again.

*******************************************************************************

@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

@scoganbingo

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

okay hear me out tho i'm gonna tell u this is sad and why

your bond with someone goes deeper than family? family is, unless something is really wrong between family members, supposed to be one of the instinctually strongest bonds humans have (like why mama bears are a thing lol - even to their unborn children! by default, they love their child even if said child isn't even out of the womb yet! also why toxic family relationships are so complicated, because "it's still my [family member]"). like, by default, there's a bond (usually between immediate family members, i.e. extended family is not necessarily by default depending on interaction and frequency of interacting).

that can change, but things have to happen for it to change. there have to be actions involved to put a strain on that relationship. someone has to do something to lessen the bond or to sever it entirely (i.e. if someone has a bad relationship with their family, it's almost always due to issues that popped up throughout their lives).

from what we know about claude's family, uhhhh... you know, yeah, i'd say his relationship to his entire family is pretty shitty. aside from having siblings who were making active assassination attempts on him when he was a child, his parents sure as shit didn't care enough to make him feel loved or to even bother really trying to protect him. they basically left him to fend for himself when he was "old enough" because he needed to know how to watch his own back, yadda yadda... but for a child they don't need to be learning how to survive that shit alone.

if he was nearly killed, his parents should have hugged him and cried out of fear and worry, but he was left to patch himself up and get back up. children shouldn't have to go through that (unless it's a special circumstance like their parents are dead/captive/missing/etc). claude thinks his bond with someone he just met basically a year ago is more important than family he's known his entire life.

also, just saying "now that we know each other" isn't a very high standard. you can know someone and still not truly be connected, but he's been so starved for bonds his entire life that just generally knowing a person feels more meaningful to him. that's not to discount the bond he's feeling, but that the way he phrases it makes it comes across as this is the best he's ever had. mind you, at this point byleth has mainly just been a teacher to him. there wasn't all that much bonding - especially where claude was concerned, because he didn't really open up to byleth for most of that year.

generally speaking i do dislike the way byleth is propped up so damn hard in vw at claude's constant expense, and i think this may have been one example among many, but i do also think it's a case of byleth just generally treating him better than what he's known. even when he came to fodlan, he wasn't trusted among the nobility and was still kind of on his own. he used byleth, disregarded byleth's feelings, and wasn't open about himself in any way with byleth for the majority of the year.

like, that's all it takes for his heart to be connected to someone? knowing someone for a year or so who doesn't want to kill him and is generally kind to him?

i know claude's upbringing as per his relationship with his parents (affection wise) wasn't as god awful as shinon fire emblem "my mother never hugged me" my love, but they definitely went well beyond "tough love" and it shows. :'(

a bond with someone can certainly be more than family, but most times if someone is on good terms with family, they would treat those relationships equally, i.e. not putting the friendship ahead of the family. that kind of things means someone has reason to not see them equally and that the family has done something (or they have done something, but in claude's case it's the family who did something) to make them feel trust toward someone else more.

the fact that claude's parents not only didn't give him enough love but actively did things to him (or supported it by not stopping it - yeah looking at you Tiana) probably really did put cracks in his trust and feelings with his family. like, with the information we have about his parents, i don't even know if they'd be sad if he was killed.

would they feel insulted that someone took the life of royalty? probably, yeah... but i don't know that they'd feel all that sad about it, regardless of what uwu three hopes wants us to think about claude being the favorite child, because if he is then that means the king is absolute trash to all his children. if that's how he treats his favorite child? like forget it, no wonder shahid grew up to be a pile of stinky horse dung.

posting this in 2023. still angry claude hasn't been properly hugged. vicious and feral that little baby boy claude was suffering and not getting hugs and snuggies and crawling around in blankets.

ima be honest with you, i don't really even remember his grandfather doing much of anything for him/with him/showing particular care and/or love toward him and his grandfather was still better to him than anyone else in his entire blood family.