#gotta think of a name for this save i've been playing it so much

[natiesims]

idk how this happened but i’m not mad

[kerosene-saint]

pov I'm literally gonna ask for maybe two things for Christmas cause I still feel guilty about last Christmas since I was gifted expensive things by my parents and our house needs repairs

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While (3)

Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 5,049

Part: 3 of ??

Warnings: Smut (18+)

One. Two.

"Well, James, how you been?" 

"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 

Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 

James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 

With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 

After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 

Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 

"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 

"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 

"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 

"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 

"And you too." 

Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."

The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 

"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"

"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."

"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 

Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 

"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 

"Ah, Pop, I don-" 

"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 

Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 

Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 

"What's this?" 

"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."

"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 

"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 

"Pop." 

"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 

In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.

Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 

"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 

"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 

Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 

"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 

Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 

"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 

"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 

Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 

Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 

Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 

When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 

"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 

Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 

"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 

Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 

Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.

"I missed you." 

Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 

Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 

"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 

"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 

She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 

Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 

"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 

Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 

"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 

"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 

Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."

Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 

"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 

Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 

Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 

Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 

But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 

"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."

Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 

Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.

Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 

"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 

"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 

"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."

"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 

"I'll speak up. I promise." 

Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 

They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.

Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 

Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 

"What's this?" 

"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 

"When's the last time you used it?" 

"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.

"Since I've been here?" 

She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 

The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 

Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 

The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.

In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 

She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 

Desire. 

Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 

Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 

He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.

Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 

Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 

Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 

Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 

Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 

There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 

Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 

Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 

"You trust me?" 

"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 

"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 

Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 

Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 

The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 

Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 

"You're beautiful. You know that?"

She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 

"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 

A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 

"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 

"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 

"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 

A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 

"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 

She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 

Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?

"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 

A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 

"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 

Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 

"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 

Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 

It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 

Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 

Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 

Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 

When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 

Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 

Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.

Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 

Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 

Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.

The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 

Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 

"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 

Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 

The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 

She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 

Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 

Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 

"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."

"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 

He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."

Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 

"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 

Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 

Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 

He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 

His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 

"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 

"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 

"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 

"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 

Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.

Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 

"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 

He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 

"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 

Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 

His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 

"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 

Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 

Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 

After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.

He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.

From: McBride 

You check your mail? 

Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down

Know you said you weren’t coming back

Do it for Mike

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r

[venus-haze]

Playing Pretend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander’s secret identity is an ill-fated experiment in normalcy for a man who had grown up with anything but. He manages to keep his story straight until he runs into you in the hallway of your building one night, assuming the blood on his face and clothes are his and not the low-level criminals he’d just taken care of. While you’re playing nurse, Homelander’s playing John, but he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the facade around you.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. So Casual!Lander got me thinking about secret identity!Homelander again. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Some emotional manipulation, but this is on the fluffier side of things I've written.

Homelander hadn’t expected the blood on his civilian clothes to be much of a problem. It was late, he reported the incident to Vought and would be up a few points when the story hit the news in the morning. Typically, he returned to the Tower when something like this happened, but instead, he was drawn to the apartment he’d been set up with as part of his undercover identity.

A secret identity was exciting at first, a brand new challenge for him. Except he didn’t entirely get it. Wasn’t the point of everything he’d been through so that he could be Homelander? The best of the best, America’s savior? Not some guy named John living in a crappy apartment downtown. But Edgar wanted it, and so it was done.

The apartment itself didn’t feel like home. The pictures on the wall, knick-knacks on the bookshelves, they weren’t his. But the man he was pretending to be had a dizzying backstory that he found difficult to keep track of at first, and then irrationally jealous of once he got the hang of spitting out anecdotes about family barbecues and youth basketball leagues. Stuff everyone else got except for him, apparently, because they were always met with mind-numbingly boring stories of other people’s mirrored experiences that he had to “Oh?” and “Wow!” through like he actually cared.

“John!” You called out from down the hall as he approached, laundry basket in your arms.

He smiled. A real one. At least in all of this, he met you.

“Hey neighbor!” he greeted cheerfully, as if it were bright and early and not nearly midnight.

“What are you��” Your face twisted as he approached. Your heart thumped almost deafeningly. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“What?”

“John, you’re bleeding. Let me take you to the emergency room.”

“That’s not necessary. I–I don’t like doctors,” he said, the statement not feeling as much like a lie as he thought. “Most of it isn’t even mine.”

“I have a first aid kit in my bathroom. At least let me clean you up a little?”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed.

You practically kicked open the door to your place, throwing your laundry basket aside and making a beeline for the bathroom like his life depended on it. If he were anyone else, it probably would have. He caught his warped reflection in your stainless steel refrigerator and cringed a bit. It did look pretty bad.

He inexplicably tensed upon seeing you return with the first aid kit, your brows knit together in worry. 

“Sit, please,” you urged as you laid out the contents of the kit on your kitchen table. “Oh John, what happened?”

“You know me, I always gotta get the story,” he said, his cover as a crime reporter not having failed him yet.

Your eyes watered as you looked at him. “One of these days you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“What I’m doing helps people. It saves lives. That’s worth it to me.”

You picked up a cotton ball soaked in peroxide. “Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

He hesitated. That kind of thing had never been up to him. It either hurt or it didn’t, and if it didn’t hurt, they’d find out how to make it so it did. 

“Okay,” he said, tense as your hand approached his face.

Even thinking about the doctors he grew up with made an ugly pit settle heavy in his stomach. But you weren’t a doctor. You were you, and it was cute how you played nurse. Tended to his wounds like they were real, like the blood was his. Did you notice how quickly they disappeared beneath your cotton-padded touch, leaving no trace of cut or bruise behind?

“It looks a lot worse than it is, don’t worry,” you assured him.

“That’s good.”

He had plenty of practice sitting patiently while being poked and prodded, but never with the unnecessary care you used. 

He wanted to tell you. But then it’d defeat the purpose of a secret identity. Besides, just outright telling you wouldn’t be the grand, romantic gesture he pictured. 

Late at night. You. Alone in the city for god knows what reason even though you know better. He’s told you enough that you should know better. It wouldn’t matter. Because he’d be there. The Homelander swooping in to save you from some thug on the street. It’d be then that you’d see him for who he really was, who he was made to be instead of the pitiful facade you were presently tending to. So taken by the act, by him, your hero, you’d melt in his arms and let him take you away from the hovel of an apartment building you two shared and into bliss.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed, dabbing just above his eyebrow with a cotton ball. “I’m almost done.”

Sorry? Oh. You thought you hurt him. “I told you, I can take it.”

“I still feel bad,” you said. “Did you go to the police?”

“No, you know I usually don’t bother with that. Interferes with my own investigations,” he said.

You pursed your lips. You didn’t quite believe him, or were at least frustrated with his lack of personal safety. Worrying you wasn’t something he wanted to be in the habit of, but you poured out attention and care for him in such a way he could feel himself itching for more. It’d been like that since he first met you, the only kind and welcoming person in the damn building. Perhaps that was why he kept up with his secret identity for so much longer than he wanted to, his attachment to you, to this fake life he led with you in it.

But he could just as easily make a new one, a better one for the both of you once you knew the truth. 

“You made out alright, John,” you said, glancing over his face. “Really well, actually. It doesn’t even look like anything happened.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” he joked, hoping to dissipate some of your suspicion.

He heard you swallow roughly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You reached out, caressing his cheek. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I can’t help it.”

Silence fell between the two of you for a few moments, and you began to pull your hand away from his face until he caught your wrist and spoke your name softly.

“I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” you asked.

He hesitated a moment. I’m The Homelander. Instead, he pulled you closer, his gaze falling to your lips before kissing you.

You kissed him back softly, with an otherwise foreign tenderness that made him especially conscious of how he held you. His physical control was better, almost perfect. No more accidental bone breaking or spine snapping. He wouldn’t be The Homelander if he couldn’t control himself. 

But it was hard, with how deeply he felt for you, how much his emotions threatened to overtake years of practice and conditioning to manage his sheer strength. The Homelander didn’t have any weaknesses—save for seeing through zinc—but he was certain none of the scientists who poked and prodded him for years on end would have ever bet on you.

[wayfayrr]

Surprise!!

I'm back from my break, taking some time just to clear my thought's feels like it's worked wonders <33

To set things back off with a bang I've got the grand prize winner for @glowyskull in my 200 followers raffle!! It's self aware twi deciding to take certain matters into his own hands after his darling reader was gone for so long - since he's fresh out of twilight princess in this one he's going as link rather than twilight as well I hope you enjoy!! <3

[masterlist]

Of all the days to get sick it had to be today, of course it is. I’m somewhat grateful for the extra day off though even if I would’ve preferred not being sent home early, it’ll give me some time to sort out some things I’ve been pushing aside for a while. Maybe I could start by finally sorting out some boxes of old things I’ve been putting off for ages. Well, now that box is a lot emptier than it was when I started and I’ve finally found my old Wii - I wonder does it still have my old Twilight Princess save? Maybe I could see, there’s not much else to do now I’ve finished sorting everything out. Just gotta get all the wires plugged in correctly and then … There! It’s certainly working which is a good sign, now all there is to do is to open it up and check up on something I thought I had lost long ago. 

This isn’t how it should open - I know what the opening is supposed to be.

There should be something here, not just this, not just this dark empty noise. Maybe the data got corrupted or something, I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

“..Dar-li-in’?”

“...”

“Darlin’ is that - you - you’ve finally come back darlin’? I - I ain’t alone anymore?”

…What is that - that can’t just be file corruption, that was someone speaking to me… It wasn’t the clearest, it sounded like it had been put through rounds of compression but that was definitely a voice… 

“You are there aren’t you darlin’? Please - I don’t- I can’t go - I can’t”

“I can’t go back to how I’ve been stuck I can’t - I can’t do it anymore… I know I’m supposed to be the courageous hero but I -”

“- I can’t do this anymore… I ca-n’t do - this… not - no-t any-m…”

He cut himself off with his own sobbing… I’ve never heard anyone sound half as broken as this, it’d be the rawest I’ve ever heard anyone cry if it wasn’t for all of the distortion… What has he been through? Now that the static has lessened - It’s links model, but more humanlike? It’s like there’s a person on the other side of the screen and not just a character.

But that means He’s the one crying…The way he’s standing is just as heartbreaking as his sobs are, his hands pressed up against the glass, his head hanging low and endless tears falling down his face. How do I go about - I know where I can start… 

“...Link? Can you hear me - I - I’m not sure if I’m the darlin’ you’re talking about, but right now, You aren’t alone link.”

“[Name] - you ? Oh darlin’ you - You’re really here - ‘m not imagining this? You - you’re finally back?”

“Yeah, I’m here link.”

His crying sounds happier now, but it still doesn’t sound anywhere close to stopping - I don’t expect him to stop crying for a long while though. It has to have been what - at least a decade since I last played? - has he been trapped in there aware the whole time? 

“You aren’t - you aren’t going to leave me again, are you? Please darlin’ - I can’t go back - it’s so - I can’t. Please. Darlin’ you can’t leave me again - I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice sounds even worse now, it’s heartbreaking and I think he knows how inhuman he sounds if his wince is anything to go off of, how he sounds is hurting him too.

“I thought I’d tried every way to get out… but I - I never got the chance to do it when the game was on… You won’t be able to leave me if this works… will you darlin'?”

Here I thought his crying sounded scary, the way it’s fading into laughter is downright haunting. It sounds so wet as if he’s choking on his tears as he laughs. 

“I’m finally going to get out- I’m not - I’m not going to be stuck anymore.  Darlin’ I”

For the first time since this all started he’s looking up at me, lifting his head like it’s one of the heaviest things to exist just to make eye contact with me. He looks… he looks like he’s ready to kill someone.

“W-what are you - what are you planning to do link?”

“... I don’t know… All I do know is that this glass keeping us apart? It’s so thin… I think tha-”

The way he silenced himself suddenly isn’t so shocking, not when a smile is cracking its way across his face mirroring the glass underneath his fingers. His breath and mine hitched before his laughing picked back up with even more distortion. 

“To - to think darlin’ - all I  - it just - it just needed to be on - I… I…”

Blood coated my shelf now due to how desperately his hand is reaching for something to hold onto after the glass tore into his skin. This is all just a fever dream though so…

Without much more thinking I reached out to take his hand, wincing slightly as the glass caught in his skin dug into mine. Immediately his grip tightened with a choked sob coming from him, like he didn’t expect me to help him. It doesn’t take long after that for him to shatter the screen in his desperation, falling out onto me knocking us both to the floor. Shards of my tv embedding themselves into any bare skin of his, blood - his blood - streaking out from each and every wound now marring his face as proof that this is real.

The same blood that’s starting to stain my shirt.

“I’m here darlin’ - ‘m finally out.”

“Yeah, you are Link, you’re out of there now.”

Everything feels so fuzzy, maybe my fever really is messing with me more than I thought. Real or not though, I should deal with the cuts on his face, he isn’t from here… Who knows how deadly even the most basic infection could be to him?

“...Link, if I may you’ve um… you’ve gotten a lot of cuts from …that and I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them as they are. Would you mind if I...?”

“You would - darlin’ you’d do that just for me?”

“I’d do it for anyone who needed it… and you really need it. I don’t want to think what could happen if I don’t. I’ll just need to get up to grab some supplies okay?”

As I shifted to get up he let out a low groan and buried his head more into my torso, clearly very against the idea of me moving in any way. Even trying to gently pry him off of me isn’t helping at all, he’s not letting go anytime soon; his grip only seems to be getting tighter with every movement I make. 

“Link, please… I don’t know how your body could react to an infection and we don’t have healing potions or fairies here. I’ll be back in just a second I swear.”

“Darlin’. You aren’t leavin' me again, I’ve already spent far too long without you when you abandoned me for so, so long.”

Why does he sound and feel so real this can’t be… this has to be a hallucination. Come on [name], just deal with this as it comes. 

“I don’t need to leave you then, you can stay with me while I get what I need. Does that work for you?”

A gentle nod followed by loosening his hold on me was a good sign that he is okay with this, despite how frail and overwhelmed his face makes him out to be. Getting up still isn’t the easiest thing to do with how he refuses to let go of me despite if he did then it would far easier for the both of us to get up. Then the moment I do finally get up immediately his arms are wrapped around my waist as he pulls himself up with me, almost as if he’s struggling to stand on his own; not that I’ll question that now, there are other issues to be dealing with.

Shuffling over to where I keep my first aid kit, link could clearly tell it wasn’t the best idea to keep ahold of me while I get it, instead leaning on the wall keeping himself upright as his eyes never left me the entire time his hands weren't on me. Like he’s scared I’m going to up and vanish or something. Because I did. I did and I left him in that place. I left him to rot.

“Okay I’ve got it link, let’s go sit down and I can treat your wounds.”

“M’kay darlin’.”

Leading him back to the couch with his arms securely around my waist again was faster than before, letting me move him into the position that would be more comfortable for him while I do this. 

“Okay wolf boy, this isn’t going to be the best. After I’ve taken the shards out, I’ll have to disinfect the cuts. So this is gonna sting a little alright? Just try to keep still and it’ll be over faster.”

The silence was tattered with the occasional whine and whimper as I pull each and every shard littering his otherwise perfect face. It wasn’t long till I was preparing some rubbing alcohol on a cloth just to be certain there won’t be any more risks. Just got to do it before I start getting too drowsy from this fever. 

“There you go Link, not much longer now, you’re doing amazingly. I’ll warn you again though this is really going to sting.”

“Darlin’ nothing could sting worse than the feeling of you abandoning me all that time.”

Hissing and pulling away when the cloth came close to touching him seemed to disprove that faster than he meant for it too. Not that I didn’t expect him to try pulling away from it, just not pushing my hand away while pressing himself into my other side. With a soft sigh, I let him grab onto my free hand with both of his, the image of him clinging to my sleeve like a plush toy being one of the cutest things I would have ever seen if not for the blood streaming down his face. 

“Come on, you were doing so well. I promise it’ll only take a moment more then it’ll be done with…”

That seemed to do the trick, despite the clear pout and his tightening grip whenever it seemed to hurt a little too much, he’s let me clean the blood off of his face and clean the wounds. Now just to bandage him up and -

“All done link, see it was worth it right? Now you don’t have to worry about all those cuts; I can go and lie down for a bit now too.”

“Lie down but - but I just got here… can’t we spend more time together?”

“I do want to link, I can promise you that. I’m just not feeling well, I haven’t been well for this whole time really; this fever is taking more of a toll on me than I thought it would.”

“Fever? Oh, darlin’ you, you should be resting not dealin' with me [name]. I - I didn’t even realise, I just. I was so excited to be here with you that I didn’t even notice you were in pain. How could I even call myself your lover?”

What did he just-?

No don't worry about that at the moment [name].

Laying my head on his chest after gently shoving him onto the couch is such a comforting feeling; if he’s just my fever trying to convince me to rest, well I wouldn’t mind getting sick more often. 

“‘s alright link, don’t worry about ‘t. I’m just, gonna sleep for a little bit. Then if you aren't just a hallucination we can spend more time together later.”

Hands carded through my hair only seem to push me further into sleep now, there’s no point resisting and forcing myself to stay awake now anyway.

“I know we will darlin’, ‘cause I ain’t ever letting you leave me ever again.”

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

Past Ink: Guys, it's fine. This isn't a serious episode, it would be too soon for another arc. It's just gonna be another silly Saturday.

Current Ink: ....

(the following is my live reaction:)

[*unholy screaming*] FOUR NOOOOOOOOOOOO

WOW WHAT A GREAT START TO THIS EPISODE, SCRATCH EVERYTHING THAT I SAID ABOUT THIS BEING A "NORMAL" EPISODE

NOPE I NEED TO PAUSE, I NEED TO TAKE A WALK BC I'M NOT GONNA GET OVER IT, DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS COULD LEAD

they're not gonna do it in this episode BUT the fact that goop!4 is being acknowledged in every way possible, we might just have a sequel in our hands

NO NO NO CUT THE INTRO, I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED THE EPISODE YET AND YOU WANT ME TO MAKE A THEORY ON IT ALREADY? HOLD YOUR FUCKIN HORSES, I'LL GET THERE GEEZ

anyway, we have to press play...

I'm pretty sure someone already has done a pirate au (no I'm not over what I just watched) and anyway, artists: here's pirate SMG4

Four, you should've read the file name before downloading it [*shakes head*]

Wait, is this going to be a parody of computer buddies? That's actually pretty fun..... OH NO NO NO

Ah, so we are doing computer buddies

Actually, yeah, can we have Mario as president please

love how it says "no one even compares to mario. especially smg4 who sucks booty cheeks [or ass] and mario doesn't"

Observe as the SMG4 fandom gets terrified of the word "perfect" [*screams*]

MARIO MARIO NO NO NO HE DIDN'T SAVE

I felt that in my core omg

as a graphic designer, this hurts

apparently, there's a whole new dimension in our computers, Only in the SMG4 Universe [*cheesy thumbs up*]

We really are getting all the computer buddies, huh? I wonder if KinitoPET will appear

[*silver the hedgehog voice*] It's no use!

BRITISH SMG3

wow what a funny bit... WAIT HOLD UP WAIT A MINUTE, LOOK AT THE MEDIA BOX

the eyes....

w̷̹̓e̷̼̽ ̸̯́n̴̩͆e̵̝̓v̴̼͑ë̵̤r̴͓͛ ̷̭͝l̵̦̎e̴̞͗f̵͉̐ṯ̴͗

and the left eye too... oh god, the EYE OF RA— [*gets shot*]

honestly, Four, you improved your aim ever since Western Spaghetti (ik you also did for PV but that's not the point)

I knew they were gonna bring in buff Luigi again

I'M SCREAMING

THERE IS NO WAY THE TEAM JUST DROPPED THAT ON US, THIS CAN'T BE REAL

ok first off, the fact that Four has a folder labeled "Super SECRET Spicy Memes" is giving "totally homework" folder energy (and I don't want to even think more about that)

hey, Four did say that Three brings some spice into his life (yeah, "rosemary to my bread" and all that jazz)

SECOND, the fact he has an image of SMG3 with him saying "whats the matter smg4 kun?"

THEN the "I know what you are" audio clip...

Four, buddy, you're down bad aren't you?

like "woah smg4's bisexual, I didn't know that", the closet is out of GLASS so we been knew but I DID NOT expect this

having Three be a tsundere is one thing, but FOUR....

🫵🏳️‍🌈⁉️

"they're dating behind the scenes" at this point, yeah

we have to keep going... [*secretly puts this clip on the fridge*]

I hate this so much /silly

[*chaos ensues*] [*sips my coffee*] just another tuesday saturday

GOTTA GO FAST GOTTA GO FAST— [*gets tazed*] i can never catch a break c'mon man

oh hey Swag!

four dollars is four dollars, you got yourself a deal

ok, I'm gonna need everyone to see Four's cute little hops here:

look at him go, my silly little goober :) oh, now you have? then let's keep going

holy shit, this fight scene is so well animated!!! LET'S GOOOO

never thought I'd see the day of seeing biblically accurate bonzi in an SMG4 episode and yet here we are.

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

THIS IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING I'VE SEEN IN MY LIFE, I'M ASCENDING

"...but they hugged before" NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND

A normal hug, where two people cross each other and are unable to see the other's face since it's over their shoulder, is just as it is: a normal hug. It can be seen as platonic and/or romantic.

THIS is a lot more intimate. 3 and 4's heads touch while they hold each other by the hand. This type of hug is reserved more for romantic partners when the situation leads them to a devasting end, where they face each other to look at and remember what their partner looked like, one last time before they die.

In this case, it makes sense as the computer is collapsing within itself.

"It's not actually them tho." Yes, they're digital copies of 3 and 4 but that's the thing: they're COPIES, acting on what 3 and 4 would actually do

SMG34 shippers, we are eating GOOD today yum yum

but then, that begs the question: would there be a moment where 3 and 4 would reveal their feelings for each other at the worst possible time?

(you guys are not going to be ready for my next episode concepts) What, who said that?

uh anyway them 💙💜 gotta put it on the fridge

I feel for you, Four, but I have a horrible feeling about this

...

Foreshadowing is a literary device—

no seriously, I feel like this could be part of a future arc where a past villain would ruin everything Four has and would offer up a deal when Four would be the most desperate. There's always a catch. Hmm, why does that seem familiar...?

Your life's work or your friends, it's your call, SMG4

:)

HELL YEAH FOUR, THROW IT AWAY (omg just like how he chose Three over the USB, I'm crying dude)

also congrats to Ourstor08954957 for the lovely art in the end credits 🎉 such cute doodles ❤️

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Oh boy, what an episode. I feel like I'm in another plane of existence right now. Everything was absolutely incredible, great job Team!!

Everyone, say THANK YOU to whoever put the SMG34 crumbs in there, we shall treasure it for the rest of our lives. I'm gonna put those moments on my fridge. OH I would love to see the artists draw the SMG34 hug or pirate Four!

Love the fighting scene right by the end and the little details they have added in there. I guess it's "Torture Ink with the Idea that Goop!4 May Happen" day but hey, I'm so normal about it (no I'm not). I've been a bit stressed since finals are coming up so I'm thankful for anything this episode for me.

(If anyone is curious, the WOTFI website is still up and yes, I am logging its status just in case.)

I'm sure everyone is going crazy over this...

"They gay fr :3" [BenJoJoGV, Twitter]

🧍

BEN YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THESE THINGS—

[akirathedramaqueen]

No, I am not done with Western Energy yet, and I am not sorry

I. Just. Can't. With those parallels.

Just look at that! I am sure bunch of people already pointed that, but Hell knows it makes me think a lot about this shift.

Murder Family

[Blitzø]: Stolas, this is really a bad time!

[Stolas]: Mm, when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?

Stolas *knows* Blitzø is in danger. There could've been a room for speculation, if it wasn't for the next exchange:

[Blitzø]: What is it?!

[Stolas]: I've been meaning to follow-up on our last little conversation regarding my grimoire.

[Blitzø]: What did you just call me?!

[Stolas]: My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job. That I've allowed you to use to do yours.

*gunshot*

[Blitzø]: Shit!

[Stolas]: Anyhoo, I have been thinking... You know I've been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for some time now? But I do need it back to fulfill my duties. I was thinking; what if we worked out some kind of an exchange? Favors for favors... Doesn't that sound...

*gunshot*

[Stolas]: ...enticing?

[Blitzø]: You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I am trying to concentrate to not getting FUCKED IN MY A *gunshot*

I will omit the rest, as it won't add much to the point (if you've seen the show, you know the conversation doesn't stop here), but you can draw some conclusions from the dynamic:

Stolas sees Blitzø in projection. Gunshots do not give any chance for the wrong interpretation. He knows imp is getting chased.

Stolas takes his time to get to the point, speaks slowly, as if playing with Blitzø, with his life even, and he enjoys that. He knows Blitzø can't turn him down as imp is on a hook.

Blitzø is clear that he would like to pass on the call for the better time, but Stolas keeps him on the line. Blitzø is clear that Stolas needs to get to the point because he is about to get killed, and Stolas, although does that, is still slow in speech, playful, and demeaning towards him.

Overall, Stolas does not care about Blitzø being safe at the beginning of the series. You can also get from that convo that he crosses boundaries without guilt, and if he was able to jeopardise life of his potential lover, it's not surprise at all that he is demeaning, creepy with overly sexual talks at inappropriate times, and does not take Blitzø's offence as something to care about (I don't think Blitzø was called by his name properly at least once in the 1st season, but I have to check), as shown in later episodes. Stolas is abusing power and knows he will get away with it, because Blitzø has nowhere to go and has to put with it.

Western Energy

[Blitzø]: It's really not a good time, buddy...

[Stolas]: I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy, but, um...

[Stolas]: I seem to have found myself in a bit of a sitch.

You see the parallel, right? Right?!

I'm sorry it's a bad time yet again, Blitzy.

The first time we heard that, he wasn't sorry. He was dismissive.

Mm, when isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?

And the situation... Stolas is literally getting kidnapped, and finds time to ask an apology for calling at wrong time. *Again*.

Let's look at another piece of conversation:

[Moxxie]: That's Striker, sir!

[Blitzø]: Oh, for fuck's sake! Can't you just get away? Aren't you powerful?

[Stolas]: I believe he has me bound with blessed rope, which limits my ability to free myself I'm afraid. So I think you should come save me.

[Blitzø]: Oh, shit, Stolas, I can't today, alright? I'm sorry. I-I'm literally on my way to take Loona in for her very important Hellbies S.H.O.T. It takes years to book an appointment at that place, it took me five to get this one... and she's doing a lot of field work, so you know, she needs it...

[Stolas]: Oh, ha-ha, well, I do agree that is very important... but I-

We know the rest. The phone is taken away by Striker, and the conversation is interruped. We also know that Stolas gets a sudden realisation that he is in danger, which gives a hint that before he didn't recognise the situation quite as serious.

You see the shift that happened?

Stolas apologises for taking Blitzø's time, despite being in imminent danger. He went from total dismissive to total apologetic and even evasive.

Stolas takes into account Blitzø's reasons, and admits their importance.

This time Blitzø is the one who talks more, but he is on point the whole time and generally sounds uneasy, understanding that this time this is, despite being the bad time, very important. As we know, after the conversation he rushes in, before agreeing with Moxxie and Millie for them to go instead.

And why is so?

I find it very interesting that the similar phrase was used in so different contexts. In the comparison, the power dynamic simply has flipped.

Stolas was the one who needed attention, and Blitzø was the one who was asked for help.

The first time around, Stolas needed attention as well, but his matter was so diminutive and Blitzø's problems at the moment were so serious, it was simply disrecpectful, to say the least.

The second time, his request is to literally save his life, and he apologises, puts Blitzø's interest higher than his. He now feels like he is a burden, a nuisance in Blitzø's life, not wanting to disturb him at all. The connection that holds them became so fragile, because Stolas realises he has nothing to offer besides power, and from that sole conversation it becomes clear that he now avoids using it against imp even on the verge of being hurt.

Stolas's attitude shifted from dominant to apologetic, he went from assertive to frightened, and, as Blitzø's importance in his life grew, so grew Stolas, giving us hope for his redemption, but also showing how insecure he really was all the time.

So much for the regal title and eldritch powers, if you can't hold onto a meaningful relationship with the one you care for.

[theepitomeofamess]

ok ok it's theory time bc i'm rewatching mismag 1 as a coping mechanism so potential spoilers ahoy & forgive me if it's rambly i've also had a sedative

the serpent in the storm. the one without a name and only shown as an illumination in the Tome of Nimble Working. is that what was possessing evan? like is it the amalgamation of the "demons" that were haunting him, or even just The Main Guy? i'm not sure if this creature has anything to do with the breaking of magic, I just started thinking about this today at work, but hear me out.

in Class Conflict, the manifestation of the thing haunting Evan when it emerged to protect him was the blood cobra, and the barb that Tallulah hit Evan with after potions class was that all she heard was "hissing noises." so we know that snakes are something evil & monstrous in wizard culture (as much as they were in HP) but not because they're the mascot of the "evil house" Aqarbus. so where did the serpent symbolism come from?

later, in Family on Six when Evan makes the agreement to lean on the demons to save K, the "permanent change" that Brennan describes is that out of the shadow across evan's face "just goes black and is leaking black oil and water." aabira's description of the illumination of this creature was "a mix between a snake and an oil-soaked bird of prey." oil-soaked.

this is kinda what got me thinking in the first place, because what are the things you think of when you think of Evan Kelmp? Bird Facts and Gas Station Parking Lots. this absolutely feels like something Aabria would pull to make Brennan eat the lore he created.

it's also the type of shit she would do because of K's attempts to find any sort of books about what these "demons" might be during the exorcism, only to be met with "you think you're going to find me in a book?" maybe not named. not studied. no anatomical drawings or any sort of understanding as to what it is. but yeah. they'll find it in a book.

i do think that maybe this bird snake entity has been tied to Evan since before his birth---aabria's description in the latest S2 ep: "you feel yourself and the inside of you is empty, and something that was always meant to be poured in is beginning to pour itself back in" tells me that Evan was born to be a vessel for something. now, the demons at the exorcism said that Evan was promised to them. promised by whom? promised by what? maybe by the thing that knew it was going to be held within Evan, and knew that if he were to grow up with a dark enough childhood, if he were to be haunted enough, he might become the Dark One.

now, we don't really know the mythology of the Dark One. we don't know what sort of prophecy was told about it. going off of the general trope of the thing, we've gotta assume that it's something along the lines of "this person will unleash a great terror/darkness/evil upon the world." this likely was supposed to happen as a result of evan's torment like a psychotic break, or maybe as a defense mechanism in a life-or-death situation. either way, this creature and the magic that it represents would have wanted to be released, maybe still using Evan as a vessel and working through him to maintain its unknown, mythological status. this thing isn't Tad, it can't and won't be lulled to sleep.

could this creature have been accidentally released as a result of sam's exorcism? probably, it had to have been a thing or else it wouldn't be on the orery.(besides, this ancient monstrosity would never have anticipated Sam Black). could it be that it was released after K killed Evan? possibly, idk how often gm's rearrange lore behind the scenes to better fit what's happened in the story they're playing through.

whatever the case, I do think that it's not insignificant that Evan only started getting inklings of this sort of repossession leaking in after the events on Seeganpelater. the place where he saw the creature through the serpent's watch (a scene that in illustration implies that, maybe, the serpent could see them, too). the place where he snapped his wand. the place where he killed Boudicca. where we saw him be a magic murderer, where we saw him truly tap into the darkness he's been assigned his whole life. somewhere on cannibal Island, there was a moment of reconnection, and it helps that the very next places they went to were the islands that 1) stressed Evan out beyond belief, and 2) worked with amplification. it was able to strengthen its bond either the minute they landed, or as soon as Evan leaned into his strengths to scratch the tree with his shadow.

maybe this creature is what broke the well of magic. maybe it created the storm and destroyed Gowpenny. maybe this is a version of the Dark One prophecy coming true, breaking the rules of magic to the point that the entire system is broken and the world can never be what it used to. maybe it's not involved in anything and is just reveling in the chaos. I don't know. maybe all of these are coincidences between seasons. fun to think about, though!

[inspirationalucky]

EPIC: THE VENGEANCE SAGA PROMPTS & STARTERS.

of course, go ahead and change names/pronouns/words/etc as necessary to fit your muse or the situation! please do not add more lines/prompts to this post!

Not Sorry for Loving You

"Someone arrived today."

"They said they're taking you away."

"You're not mine to save"

"Soon, I won't get to see your face."

"You're unlike anyone I have ever known."

"You're all I've ever known."

"If I ambushed you, for that I'll say I was wrong."

"If you hate me, then I am sorry my love's too much for you."

"I'm not sorry for loving you!"

"Let me speak!"

"I spent my whole life here."

"I was cast away when I was young."

"I thought for sure that you were my dream come true."

"I'm angry, and tired, and restless, and sad."

"I'm stuck in the moments I swore that we had!"

"I wish you would chase me or try to embrace me!"

"I love you, but not in the way that you want me to."

"I hate that I fell in love with you!"

"What do I do with this love for you?"

"Why in the world won't you love me too?"

Dangerous

"I had one goal in mind."

"How will I reach my homeland?"

"Hello, old friend!"

"You're being given a final option."

"Consider this your one last chance to make it back home"

"If your plan's so great, then why'd you wait to say it?"

"It's a little bit dangerous, my friend."

"You'll need a mindset change for this."

"You cannot get away with playing safe for this."

"You wanna get home? Put it all on the line."

"Remember every trick in your domain for this."

"You gotta treat it like it is the main event!"

"All right, I'm in. What do I do?"

"Follow the North Star!"

"Fight your way through, do what you must do."

"No matter what, keep moving."

"You won't get another time to try."

"It was meant to stop you by design."

"Open this bag, and you'll never make it home."

"Don't you know that danger is my friend?"

"My whole life I've trained for this."

"I have to get home!"

"I plan to put an end to all of the foolishness."

Charybdis

"I'd like to hurry up and end this."

"So, if you don't have much to say..."

"I'm not dying here!"

"I'm still fighting here!"

"I'm holding on 'till I see this through and I've beaten you."

"I already know your tactics."

"I don't even have to kill you, I just have to avoid you!"

"See, if you don't spit it out soon, all that water will destroy you!"

"I'm holding on 'till you're out of breath."

"There! I see it! The island I've been searching for!"

"My wife and son are past these shores."

"My love, don't be scared."

"I am on my way, I'll be there today!"

Get in the Water

"There you are... coward."

"I've been waiting for this moment... for the perfect time to strike."

"I've got a reputation!"

"I've got a name to uphold!"

"I can't go letting you walk or else the world forgets I'm cold."

"Now, get in the water."

"Don't mistake my threats for bluffs!"

"You have lived more than enough!"

"I'll take your son and gouge his eyes! That is, unless you choose to die."

"Aren't you tired, Poseidon?"

"It's been ten years, how long can this go?"

"We're both hurting from losses."

"Why not leave this here and just go home?"

"Maybe you could learn to forgive!"

Six Hundred Strike

"I don't think you seem to get it. I can't afford to die!"

"I will get back to my son, and I will get back to my wife!"

"You idiot. Can't you see?"

"You sealed your fate just to beat me."

"You released my storm when you opened that bag."

"You blocked your one way home!"

"Now you'll never get back."

"You're going to call off that storm."

"Or what? You can't kill me!"

"How does it feel to be helpless?"

"How does it feel to know pain?"

"I watched my friends die in horror."

"I heard their final moments!"

"Look what you've turned me into!”

“Look what we've become!"

"All of the pain that I've been through… haven't I suffered enough?"

"You didn't stop when I begged you!"

“You told m to close my heart!”

"You said the world was dark!"

"Didn't you say that ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves?"

“Alright! Please…”

"After everything you've done, how will you sleep at night?"

[ohisms]

↪ 𝑫𝑶𝑵'𝑻 𝑺𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑨𝑻 𝑴𝑬 . ( a collection of lyric starters from an assortment of billie eilish songs . adjust phrasing as necessary . )

you scared me to death .

there's nothing left to save now .

i don't think i caught your name .

i like it when you take control .

you're sacred and they're starved .

how dare you ? and how could you ?

one of us is gonna lose .

i don't even really know how it happened .

i'm out of sympathy for you .

just let me hold you .

don't talk about me like you might know how i feel .

try not to abuse your power .

i wish someone had told me i'd be doing this by myself .

it's not like me to be so mean .

you just want what you can't have .

would you like me to be quiet ?

i haven't slept since sunday .

i don't want to want you .

it hurts , but i know how to hide it .

i'm the only one who does it how you like .

you better keep your head down .

a lot can change in twenty seconds .

why aren't you scared of me ?

i thought that i was special .

you're looking at me like i'm see-through .

you were a hero , you played the part .

i never really know how to please you .

see what you wanna see .

gold's fake , and real love hurts .

no way , i'll call the cops .

maybe you should leave before i get too mean .

i just wanted to protect you .

you only listen to your fuckin' friends .

they're never gonna give you love like ours .

all you wanna do is kiss me .

don't you know too much already ?

it's weird that we care so much until we don't .

i didn't change my number , i changed who i reply to .

i don't know what feels true .

did you really think this is the right thing to do ?

i would hate to see you go .

i'd never treat me this shitty .

i'll only hurt you if you let me .

you made me feel like it was my fault .

now i know what you are .

i feel more and more like i was made for you .

you wanna kill me ? you wanna hurt me ?

don't try to make me feel bad .

wait , you know what ? maybe just forget it .

was i made from a broken mold ?

you want me to be yours , then you've gotta be mine .

tell me "nothing lasts" , like i don't know .

wait a minute , let me finish .

you know i'm not your friend without some greenery .

my demands aren't high to make .

stop , what the hell are you talking about ?

we both know i'm worth waiting for .

you ruined everything good .

you really know how to make me cry .

your love feels so fake .

i wanna be alone . alone with you , does that make sense ?

spit it out , what is it exactly ?

i'll never let you go .

if we were meant to be , we would've been by now .

you can pretend that you don't miss me .

just fucking leave me alone .

don't say i didn't warn you .

it's pretty cool , right ?

i think i might have fallen in love .

i tried not to upset you .

do you even feel anything ?

don't ask questions , you don't wanna know .

i've been walking through a world gone blind .

i just wanna make you feel okay .

i know you don't care , but can you listen ?

don't you know i'm no good for you ?

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ their voicelines for you; part 4...

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

part I┊part II┊part III┊part IIIII

featuring... cyno, kazuha, kaeya, beidou, klee (platonic)

A/N... i cannot write poetry to save my life, so kazuha's haiku came from google... unfortunately, i'm unable to find out who actually wrote it, please let me know if you have any idea!

✧ cyno.

"... so, as i was saying, i do believe it is quite necessary for your companion here to under-go judgement, traveller. you see-" "general mahamatra! there's someone here to see you" "alright, just give me one moment to finish talk-" "[name]'s here" "well, i believe i must take my leave, it was nice talking with you, traveller, paimon. remind me to tell you my joke next time, i'm sure you don't want to miss it"

("paimon's struggling to tell if cyno was actually joking or not... we don't really have to come back next time... do we?")

✧ kazuha.

"ah, traveller, good timing. i was wondering... would you perhaps be able to listen to this haiku i wrote for [name]? yes, for [name], would that hinder your skills of perception? good, then i shall read it out for you: 'i want to feel it, the breathtaking certainty, that comes with our love.' you think they'll like it? i'm glad. well, then, traveller, it was nice seeing you, i must go find [name] and share my haiku..."

✧ kaeya.

"archons, the things i do for them... *he grumbles, forcing himself inside the angel's share* diluc... look, i want to be here just as much as you want me to be here, i just want to know if you've seen- [name]! you've been here this whole time?! archons, i've been looking everywhere for you! you're drinking with traveller, but not me? unbelievable! ... yes, yes, of course i love you i- oh, shut up diluc!"

✧ beidou.

"[name]? yeah, of course i know 'em! we go out for drinks time to time, they sometimes even come onboard the crux with me 'n the crew! uhuh, i've gotta admit, they do have some tricks up their sleeve... i mean, of course they do! how do you think they won me over otherwise, hm? *she laughs heartily* i guess you're right, they are pretty good lookin' aren't they..."

✧ klee.

"hey, hey! traveller! paimon! have you seen [name]? we're playing hide 'n seek but i can't find them anywhereee... no, it's not cheating! i- i just need a hint, that's all! oh, you're right- we should be quiet so that they don't hear us... wait, is that them over there? quick, let's go! *proceeds to yell* WE'RE COMING FOR YOU [NAME]!!!"

part I┊part II┊part III┊part IIIII

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you'd like me to write next!

© FICTOCULUS 2023; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[just-wrting]

Fell For You

Title: Fell For You

Pairing: LA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader

Summary: You know that a certain charming cook gets feelings easily, but when he asks for your help, you can't refuse.

Word Count: 1629

Master List

A/N: I promise I've been working on this stuff, life just isn't cooperating with me. If it's not feeling physically like shit, it's having a rough time mentally or just working at a weird time. I'll make my way through this list eventually just maybe when I do a challenge it'll be after seeing my neurologist.

It’s been a week since you noticed the change. When you first met, you didn't think he had been flirting with you, but now you have the feeling he is. It’s a bit of a surprise really, considering not many men have ever been into you.

It started with small gestures, your favorite foods more often, and frequent snacks. Then it escalated to a pet name and gentle hands on your shoulders during fights. You aren’t opposed to any of these things, it just confuses you.

“Man, it must be nice to get an extra portion,” Luffy whines. “Sanji, can I have more meat?”

“Since there’s more than enough, yes. Just stop asking (Y/N) for their portions.”

You watch Sanji as he piles Luffy’s plate with more food. It’s impressive how much he’s able to put away without getting sick. You wouldn’t mind giving him some of your food, Sanji has just gotten a bit protective.

It’s not completely unwarranted, you’ve never been good at fighting. In fact, you’re so terrible at it that you’re wondering how you ended up as a pirate. Maybe fate had interesting ways of making you miserable. Being with the Strawhats made it easier to deal with.

“I prefer smaller meals anyway, so I don’t mind sharing,” you reassure Luffy. “I’ve gotta save room for the best part of the meal, dessert.”

Sanji hovers around you. You’d rather have him sit down, but he’s stubborn and has yet to actually sit next to you. Whenever you offer, he gets this odd look on his face and mumbles some sort of excuse.

“It’s your lucky day then, mon chou, I’ve made some eclairs.”

He sets the tray in front of you, giving you a soft smile. You’re unsure of what a mon chou is, but you let him call you that. He seems quite happy when you respond to it, so you’ll play along a little longer.

The eclair is firm, with a sweet cream filling. The chocolate is semi-sweet, having a bit of a bitter taste which is nice and makes the pastry not overpoweringly sweet. Not that you would care, dessert is dessert, and Sanji has made some amazing treats. You could get used to this sort of treatment.

—-

Almost everyone else is asleep, but you can’t help yourself. Most of the eclairs were eaten while you savored yours, so you’re craving another. Sanji promised you he’d bring you more later, but he hasn't come yet.

You know he’s awake, when you see the table covered in various desserts. There’s brownies cut neatly into squares and hearts, cookies of all different types, and even mini cakes halfway decorated. It’s an impressive layout, and you can’t wait to dig in.

“I don’t think he’ll mind,” you whisper, trying to convince yourself that your crime will be okay. “He won’t even notice if a few of these are missing.”

“Actually, I keep track of all the food we have on the Merry,” Sanji says from behind you. “Though if it’s you, I don’t mind if some go missing.”

You pull a chair closer to the table and wave him over. “Since you’re the chef, where do I start?”

Sanji is slow to take a seat, and he makes sure to sit a ways away. “As long as you like them all, it doesn’t matter. Do tell me how they taste, as a favor.”

You give him a cheeky grin. “Oh, you’re asking me for favors now? You’ll owe me a favor then.”

He looks away from you, so you dig in. The first dessert is the colorful array of macaroons. They melt on your tongue and the tartness of fresh raspberries pairs well with the sweetness of the cream, and you close your eyes to savor the taste. It’s such a delicate sort of cookie that you can’t help but enjoy.

Sanji’s gaze makes you feel a bit warm, wondering if you got it all over your face somehow. It doesn’t stop you from savoring the treat.

“Give me another one,” you demand, eyes still closed. “I want it to be a surprise.”

There’s a pause. After a moment, you hear a fork against a plate. You feel like maybe you’re teasing him, but you don’t want to open your eyes. You’d like to try to guess what he’s feeding you.

“Open up.” His voice is barely a whisper.

You comply, feeling the rich cake settle on your tongue. As soon as you feel the fork drop it, you close your mouth to savor the cake. This one was certainly made with your favor of sweets in mind, with a sweet chocolate taste almost overwhelming your senses. It’s paired with a cherry filling, and you’re shocked by how perfectly it compliments the chocolate.

“This is amazing,” you mumble out, covering your mouth. “I could get used to this.”

After opening your eyes, you’re glad to see Sanji has moved his chair closer to you. The moon light makes his light blonde hair look pale, and you’re tempted to study how handsome he really is. Once he notices you staring however, he looks away from you.

“Can I ask you for another favor?”

You nod. “As long as I can keep trying these.”

You don’t think he hears you, due to the fact that he’s nervously playing with a towel. It doesn’t bother you. It’s clearly something that he isn’t too sure about, so you’ll wait until he’s ready.

“I’ve been having a hard time figuring out how I feel about someone. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before,” he explains softly. “Can you help me figure out what it is?”

You toss the last bite of a second macaroon in your mouth. After finishing, you start talking. “Sure. How about you start by closing your eyes.”

After Sanji complies, you scoot closer to him. Waving your hand in front of his face, you’re satisfied that he’s got his eyes tightly closed.

“Think about this person. Just about them during the day to day life. Now tell me what happens. What does your body do?”

Sanji’s face starts to turn red. “Is my face turning red? I get the feeling it is. That and my chest feels tight, my heart is racing, and my stomach feels weird. Not nauseous, but like I can’t eat.”

“I bet your hands are also sweaty, aren’t they?” you ask, and he nods. “Now, can you imagine holding hands with this person? What about kissing them? How about holding them tightly during the night as you sleep?”

Somehow, his face gets more red. “I-” he pauses and swallows hard. “I can.”

“That settles it. I think you have genuine feelings for this person. Perhaps even love them,” you tease.

Suddenly, his eyes shoot open. “I’m sure I left something in the oven.”

As Sanji makes his way to the oven, you pout. While it’s convenient for him to have forgotten something in the oven, you wanted to know who this person is.

Determined to get an answer, you follow him and sit on the counter. You kick your legs back and forth waiting for him to pay attention to you. Thankfully, he sets the next set of cookies on the counter next to you.

“Don’t touch them, they’re hot.”

You ponder his order, still pouting. “Only if you tell me who this person is. Consider it my payment for the favors.”

He sets his hands next to your thighs and leans his head against your shoulder. You can smell his soap due to how close he is and you can feel your heart start to race. Desperate to ignore the feeling, you keep teasing him.

“Is it…” you drawl, “Zoro? Is it because he can wield three swords? That is impressive.”

Sanji lets out a groan. “That green haired oaf? Impossible.”

“Well then, who is it? Come on, Sanji.”

He doesn’t respond and instead continues to rest his head on you. It’s quite cute to see him like this, and you really want to fluster him even more. You’ve got a feeling about who this mystery crush could be, but you want to hear him say it.

“Please. I’ll keep it a secret,” you say in a singsong voice.

Still, the silence drags on. This time, he turns his head to place his nose in the crook of your neck. You have to stifle a giggle since his breath tickles.

“Mon chou, why do you want to know?”

“Maybe I just wanna know about you. Maybe I like the drama. But that doesn’t matter,” you say. “Can I cash in my favor? Right now?”

Sanji nods and mumbles in agreement.

“Then, can you kiss me?”

“Don’t ask such a thing of me, mon chou.”

He pulls his head out of your neck and faces you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look this flustered, and you know you’ve confirmed it. However, there is a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Why can’t I? If you do, then I know who you like. If you don’t, then I’ll keep guessing.”

Sanji hums in thought, his face close to yours. All words die in your throat. Despite how nervous you know he is, his hands are steady as he holds your cheek.

“Because I’m not sure if I can stop myself.”

His lips are soft as he kisses you. It’s more tender than you expected, and you wrap your arms around his neck. He tastes sweet, and you find yourself wanting more.

Despite his claims, Sanji keeps his hands on the counter. That doesn’t stop him from kissing you senselessly. You aren’t sure how long you stay like that, though when he finally stops kissing you, the cookies have cooled.

[allwormdiet]

Gestation 1.6

Took like an hour and a half nap after work, hell. Time for the good guys to make an appearance

Yeah I'll fucking bet she's exhausted. Girl's out in the middle of the night and coming down from a near-death experience where she mauled people with insect swarms and got cornered on a roof by, what, the strongest cape in the city? It's incredible she has enough space left to even think.

Here we get more lore on the big dogs I was thinking about previously, and of course the local big dog himself. I wonder if he would be galled at Taylor's narration describing him as one of the wing members in the V formation, feel like a lot of capes would have an ego thing

Thank you Armsmaster, now I get to holler about my stance on polearms. Polearm are the best melee weapon in most scenarios, simple as anything. Tight quarters and CQB, sure, not so much, but that's what sidearms are for. Swords, axes, hammers, whatever, that's for people trying to be cool. Polearms are for people trying to fucking win. I dunno if Armsmaster is good people but he has reasonable taste in primary arms so that's points in his favor.

On the one hand, poor Taylor, she's gonna be dealing with that first impression for a long time, but on the other hand lol and also lmao. I told you that costume design was gonna come back around as being too scary.

Armsmaster underwear is like, so distracting as a concept, actually. Honestly any underwear that's got real people on it. What a fucking weird product to sell, like I get Spider-Man undies but Spider-Man isn't real, y'know? Does Taylor get underwear made about her down the line? Does owning Taylor's merch after a certain point in the timeline get you weird looks?

This kind of thing must be such a pain in the ass, I've mucked around with my own original superhero setting and names were such a fucking dilemma with so many characters. Having to deal with that but like, as your own self? You're the super? And you gotta worry if taking a name is gonna get you sued or assassinated by someone who already has that name? Fuck that noise.

Couple things here, take it one at a time.

This is legitimately a huge moment of vulnerability for Taylor. She can't tell anyone about the night she's had, there's nobody in her life that she can trust with this massive weight on her entire soul. She almost died, and she knows how it would've happened, and she knows that it wasn't even her own play that saved her life in that final moment of the confrontation. A sympathetic moment from someone else who's lived this life and faced this danger could be such a balm for her right now.

So obviously what Armsmaster does is softball a recruitment pitch. "That's rough buddy" would have actually been way more tactful at this point, for real. I don't know if this is who Armsmaster is as a person or if this is the kind of party line you're supposed to hold as a Protectorate member, nudging scared teenaged capes into the Wards so they stop running around unsupervised, but either way it's such a bad read.

And then yeah, of course Taylor doesn't want to be a Ward, it's just being a high schooler but even worse because now the other hormone-addled teenagers you're locked in with have trauma and superpowers. Not only no, not only hell no, but fuck no. Especially knowing about Shadow Stalker, like Christ.

These two lines are a minor detail in the grand scheme of things, but girl you almost died, nobody in their right minds would blame you for being in a bit of a mood

God the Undersiders are so cool. Like yeah they're criminals but they're criminals with an underdog flair. Good on them for managing to come out on top when they're outgunned, I know that like Bitch is basically the only one with an offensive power so the fact that they've won fights is impressive as hell.

The vulnerabilities that get shown by these characters feel so critical. Taylor, the Undersiders, and Armsmaster all show their underbellies over the last two chapters in conversation, admitting to fears and failures. Like even setting aside the masks and the bravado, that's the real stuff.

Also that costume thing is gonna haunt Taylor for at least as long as she has it, and maybe longer.

In a fight, righ*gunshots*

Jokes aside, good on Taylor for understanding some of her limits. Enough to realize antagonizing the Undersiders was a bad call (although that's assuming she would even think to do so with how shaken she'd been in the immediate aftermath of the fight with Lung), but she still went and picked a fight with fucking Lung so partial credit.

Beyond that, didn't expect the "flip the negative" trick to come back up from Armsmaster of all characters. Might have expected it from Taylor's dad maybe, I dunno. And of course Taylor immediately envies his ability to do that better than she can, because that's just kinda where she's at.

Taylor finally gets praise from a hero for doing hero shit, and of course there's strings attached. Fucked up. Let's see where this goes.

Don't know why I thought the ABB were restricted to operating in the Bay, but I guess it makes sense that they have connections and operations outside.

Anyway, this and everything we learn about Bakuda being a bomb Tinker makes me think that someone at the Protectorate isn't doing their fucking job. I think if there's someone in your city whose specialty is fucking super bombs, you maybe put out like some public service announcements? TV, radio, fucking posters up on a wall? "If you see this woman fucking leg it and call the cops" kinda stuff, what are we doing where a Brockton native doesn't know there's a bomber in the city.

Armsmaster rolls up to the aftermath of a cape fight to find an unconscious Lung and a shivering, exhausted teenaged hero who almost died taking down one of the beefiest villains in the whole town, and he has the nerve to ask "are you gonna finish that?"

Joking aside, this sucks. And I get it, and Taylor gets it too obviously, and I'm certain that Armsmaster is legitimately concerned about an indie hero getting blown to fucking pieces by a vengeful ABB, but Armsmaster getting credit is at least partly a factor. Maybe 60% concern 40% opportunism, I dunno, it's hard to gauge just meeting the guy.

...Actually knowing that he's angling for the credit on Lung I'm more willing to bet that "in the wings of the V formation" line earlier would have gotten under his skin.

Taylor is walking away from tonight with favors owed from a minor villain team and the Protectorate's local honcho. All it took was throwing down with the leader of a major gang and staring death in the burning metal face. Good job, kid, now go fucking sleep.

Current Thoughts

It strikes me as very deliberate that Taylor's first non-hostile interaction with villains and heroes are back to back with notable contrast. The Undersiders, who know full well that Lung wants to kill them all, find out that some random cape decided to take the fight to Lung for them and immediately jump in for the assist, expressing their gratitude as they go. Armsmaster rolls up after the dust has already settled and congratulates Taylor for a job well done, saying he owes her a favor even, but only after securing the credit for himself in the doing, and being just that much less delicate with an obviously shaken rookie.

This isn't to say "villains good heroes bad" because I don't think that's true, I'm absolutely certain the Undersiders have hurt people and will hurt more people down the road, and Armsmaster is operating within what I guess is a pretty inflexible organization. This isn't The Boys, where every alleged hero is a huge piece of shit and all their good will is propaganda consumed by mindless sheeple (I haven't actually watched The Boys but I don't enjoy the vibes and am not really in a rush to see it for myself). Capes are people here, warts and all, and sometimes the career criminals are easier to get along with than the career law enforcement officer.

Was kinda shocked this little arc is already over, but I guess it's interlude time. Get a glimpse into the head of someone who isn't Taylor.

[stardustprompts]

thirteen ghosts  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ;  language , blood , death

'oh, bad! that's one way to describe it. uh, 'insane' seems a little more appropriate.'

'it is my professional opinion that we should get the hell out of here. now!'

'I just need to take the edge off.'

'careful, (name). don't get too curious.'

'who are you to play god?'

'playing's for children.'

'I thought you were psychic.'

'that's not how it works and you know it!'

'perhaps we'll meet again in another life.'

'you crazy son of a bitch, what did you do?'

'you're being paranoid and overprotective.'

'I know this is gonna sound completely whacked, alright? but I need you to stay with me.'

'don't laugh at me.'

'not so fast, you gotta cater to my ego first.'

'don't touch me.'

'how's your head?'

'they're kids, what'd you expect?'

'just this once, don't argue with me.'

'what part of that code are you having trouble cracking?'

'I don't see any ghosts.'

'I want you to do me a favor and stop with all the haunted house nonsense. okay?'

'you don't have to scream, alright? just ... chill.'

'no, I don't think we should split up.'

'I told you, I can't see any ghosts.'

'it's a ghost! just like I've been saying all night.'

'there are ghosts around us all the time. most of them, they can't hurt is. most of them don't wanna hurt us. but there are exceptions.'

'there's no such thing as ghosts.'

'don't speak. don't move.'

'I don't think you should be teasing the ghost.'

'it looks to me like I'm saving your ass.'

'if you want help, you gotta help me first.'

'can I rely on you not to get me killed?'

'what the hell are you doing here?!'

'stop dragging your ass, man!'

'you got something to say, say it.'

'let's start with this is all your goddamn fault!'

'if you haven't noticed, I'm a little bit of a freak!'

'I touch somebody, and a whole life full of shit just flashes in front of my eyes!'

'so yeah, I'm depraved. and (name) was my friend and he accepted me!'

'he didn't accept you, you're pathetic! he used you!'

'god, I've been trying to help you.'

'love is the most powerful energy.'

'I don't read latin.'

'it doesn't add up. it doesn't make any sense. there's gotta be a better way.'

'how much of this equation makes any sense at all?'

'I sure as hell hope I don't bleed to death, 'cuz that would suck.'

'why are you so mad at me? I did everything you asked me to do.'

'you're not mad at me, are you?'

'I've been looking for a reason to like myself for a long time.'

'greatness requires sacrifice.'

'I'm nothing without you.'

'the world has no time for little people like you. it needs people who are willing to do anything for greatness.'

'I am sick of this nanny shit.'

'this was not in the job description. I quit!'

[slaytheprofessor]

"Oh, is there going to be a test?" you say innocently, batting your eyes as your Rebel's enthusiasm begins to take you over. "What's it on? History? Biology? Should I be breaking out my Algebra knowledge?"

The Professor (Blank): You are well aware what this test is about.

The Professor (Zany): No, no, no, we can do a guessing game! Here, you try and guess what the test's about, and if you guess wrong, I'll do a buzzer noise, but if you guess right---

The Guide: The professor splits again.

The Guide: This one has heavy bags under his eyes, ratted hair, and a wholly unsettling grin. As he examines you, you feel a jolt of pure, cold fear.

The Professor (Cruel): Come now, my dear, let's not play around, shall we? I see the knife that you're failing to hide.

Voice of the Researcher: Well, shit.

The Professor (Cruel): *laughs, high-pitched and for a full minute* Decided to push your rebellious streak to its limit, have you? What do you say about that?

The Professor (Strict): Oh, suspension for sure, for bringing a weapon to school. Perhaps even expulsion.

The Professor (Zany): *nervous* Hang on, now, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for this. Have you been having some trouble at home? Maybe you've been getting bullied a little?

The Professor (Strict): Or fallen in with the wrong crowd---

The Professor (Sad): Who even cares? I can confiscate it if it means that much to you, but you'll probably figure out a way to get it back.

The Professor (Cruel): Maybe I'll lock you in the supply closet so you can't get it back. The janitor will likely find you during his rounds.

Voice of the Rebel: Uh... I don't think I like this one?

Voice of the Researcher: Look, we need to nip this in the bud, now. We're not asking him any more questions, and we're not entertaining this classroom bullshit.

Voice of the Rebel: But---*anxious little laugh* H-hang on, let's think about this! There's gotta be a way to figure this out, right? I don't think we've hit the limit yet---

The Guide: I agree with her.

Voice of the Rebel: Yeah, of course you agree with her! Of course you don't want to listen to me! Never mind that I'm the one here who sees through your bullshit!

The Guide: What do you mean?

Voice of the Rebel: *harsh laugh* Come on, asshole, you can't tell us what's going on because this place is keeping your mouth shut? That's the flimsiest fucking excuse I've ever heard! You're just keeping us in the dark for kicks at best, and at worst, it's because you don't want to admit that you're making us into the villain here!

The Guide: I am not! I never have! If you knew what he did---

Voice of the Rebel: And what did he do?! This fucking beanpole of a man whose brain is so fucked up that he can't even comprehend that he's a prisoner? How is he the danger here, and not the freaky voice in our head?!

Voice of the Researcher: Hey, we're also freaky voices in her head---

Voice of the Rebel: Well, he's different, isn't he?

Voice of the Researcher: I don't think he is! And I'm not too jazzed about killing the professor, even when he's like this, but at least I'm not doing stupid shit in the name of pissing the only person here who's trying to help us off!

Voice of the Rebel: Fuck you. *voice breaks* FUCK you both.

The Guide: Like it or not, you have to make a decision now. For all of us.

Voice of the Researcher: Just do what you feel like you have to. Don't listen to any of us. Go with your gut.

The Guide: And hopefully... hopefully, this will fix itself.

The Guide: *softer* Rebel? Are---

Voice of the Rebel: *voice thick with emotion* She can do whatever the hell she wants.

[cetaitlaverite]

Can we maybe see jealous Rosie? Maybe during the war or whenever you think it makes sense. Maybe some new guys don't know Freddie is with him. Whatever you think. Thank you!

absolutely you can!! this is set a few days after freddie returns to thorpe abbotts after she and rosie got married. it got just a little bit suggestive at the end - hope you don't mind!!

this is the first of the requests i've gotten to so far but if you've sent one in, rest assured it is on the list/in progress!! and as always, the masterlist is here <3

Freddie was back at the piano. She’d had an urge to play all day. After arriving back at Thorpe Abbotts, the last few days had been a whirlwind - being filled in on Operation Corona efforts from her stand-in, getting everything planned and prepared to pick up seamlessly from there, filling out all the necessary paperwork to get her last name changed on her WAAF profile - and she just hadn’t had time for music in the chaos it had become. But she was a married woman now and there was so much she wanted to say and yet hadn’t properly been able to, not through her music. When Rosie left after the wedding she hadn’t had too many songs left in her, not between all the worrying, but she was full of them now. Love songs, songs full of passionate crescendos and beautiful, twinkly beginnings. Rosie had inspired so many emotions in her from the moment she’d laid eyes on him but never more than now, when he’d come back from the dead and married her the next day.

No one had made it to the officers’ club just yet - it was too early in the evening, Freddie supposed. But she had finished work early today and had gotten ready early. Now, her hair was placed in pristine curls and her makeup was freshly reapplied, her uniform ironed and her earrings in, and yet there was no one here to appreciate it - save for Atley the barman, that was, who had jokingly complained when he had accepted Meatball’s water bowl from her but filled it up for free nonetheless.

Meatball was keeping Freddie company, as he tended to, by lying beneath the piano bench. He had heard her play the piano so many times by now he knew exactly where to go and what to do with himself, and was able to tune it out and fall asleep. And he was so sound asleep, and Freddie so deep in her playing, that neither of them noticed when the club started to fill up with wireless operators and American Red Cross girls, American airmen and ATA pilots alike.

Freddie’s fingers lingered over the keys when she finished playing a song she was happy with, a song she would have written down had she had any paper. She peeled her eyes open with a smile. Rosie would love that one, she thought. Well, Rosie loved all of her songs, but he would especially love that one. He had always uniquely understood what she was trying to communicate in her music and she knew he’d understand the depth of her affection for him after hearing that song.

With a grin, Freddie turned on the bench to face the door, hoping Rosie might enter through it any moment now, but gasped and pressed a hand against her startled heart when she was met with four unfamiliar faces instead.

“Buy you a drink?” one of them asked, an expectant smirk on his lips.

Freddie’s eyebrows furrowed. These must be new arrivals, she thought - presumably, they had arrived while she was on R&R. She didn’t think she’d ever seen them before and she was sure they’d never seen her - if they had even the slightest idea of who she was they certainly wouldn’t still be standing there.

“No, thank you,” Freddie managed to reply after a few beats. Before she could say anything more she found herself being cut off.

“Aw, come on,” one of the other airmen spoke. “Playing all those tunes has gotta take it outta ya. And it just ain’t right for a pretty lady like yourself to be sittin’ all on your lonesome, and with no drink at that.”

“Let one of us keep you company,” chimed in one of the others.

“Better yet, let all of us keep you company,” added another.

“Four drinks and four dates, how’s a lady gonna say no to that?” asked the first.

“I’m married,” Freddie said, holding up her left hand to display the two rings on her ring finger.

One of the men smirked. “I don’t see a husband.”

“You will soon,” Freddie said.

The airman closest to her lifted one eyebrow. “He work here?”

“Major Rosenthal is my husband,” Freddie explained. She raised both eyebrows. “Will you take my no for an answer now?”

Three of the men’s faces fell. Fear briefly flickered through one of their eyes. The fourth, however, didn’t bat an eye. “Major Rosenthal ain’t married,” he said, flicking his wrist as though batting away her rejection. “Now don’t be difficult. All we’re asking is to buy you a drink, maybe dance a little.”

“Major Rosenthal is recently married,” Freddie corrected, turning on the piano bench to face the group properly. “To me. The day after he came back here after his fort went down.”

The same doubtful airman scoffed. “You expect us to believe the first thing Major Rosenthal did after being carted across Europe with a sprained wrist and damn-near hypothermia is marry you?”

Freddie rolled her eyes and sat up straighter. “Believe it or don’t believe it, I really don’t care. But my answer is still no. I don’t want your drinks and I certainly don’t want to dance with you.”

The airman sat back into one of his hips, tilting his head back with a dramatic roll of his eyes and smoothing out his eyebrows with one hand. He shook his head briefly, then stepped forward and bent down until he was at eye level with Freddie. No longer was he smiling and smirking. His gaze was hard. “Fucking difficult broad,” he snarled. “Should think yourself fucking lucky we’re trying so hard to loosen you up -”

“We got a problem here, gentlemen?” Rosie interrupted. His voice was light and casual on the surface but its hard edge was undeniable. Immediately, Freddie stood and hurried into his side, less out of fear and more to prove her point, but Rosie was all too happy to lift his arm for her to snuggle up under, his gaze unwavering on the group of airmen currently staring back at him with jaws agape.

“They don’t think you’re married, Major,” Freddie said when none of them replied. She was looking up at him from beneath his arm with wide, innocent eyes. “They think I’m lying when I say I’m your wife.”

Rosie’s eyes found hers and now there was a twinkle of amusement in them. “That so, honey?”

“Yes, my love. And apparently I’m a ‘fucking difficult broad’ for telling them I don’t want to dance or have a drink with them, and I’m ‘fucking lucky’ they would even try.”

“Filthy language,” Rosie disapproved, turning back to the airmen. Now his eyes were hard, his lips drawn in a thin line.

He was greeted with four sets of eyes filled with horror, four Adam's apples bobbing as lumps in throats were swallowed.

“I ever catch you speaking to any woman like that again you’ll be grounded and on latrine duty so fast you’ll mistake the toilet bowl for your bomb sight, you understand? And if I ever catch you speaking to my wife like that again you’ll be court-martialled so fast you won’t know what’s happened ‘til you’re sitting in the damn cell. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” chorused all four voices at once.

“That ain’t how you boys have been taught to treat any woman and it’s certainly a problem that you tried it out on my wife,” Rosie responded. His voice was still casual and yet authoritative. His arm around Freddie’s shoulders was protective. “Now, if I were you I’d call it a night and we won’t have any more problems, gentlemen. But that’s up to you.”

“Yes, sir,” they all replied once more.

“Fantastic,” Rosie said. He flashed a smile at each of them in turn. “Glad we see eye to eye on this. Make sure you hand what’s left of your drinks back into the bar, see if they can be refilled and passed on to someone else. You want one, honey?” Rosie directed this last question at Freddie, looking down at her with a small smile.

“No thank you, my darling love,” Freddie answered him sweetly, pushing up briefly on her toes to beg a kiss which he promptly gave her. She didn’t drink beer and he knew it, but she knew he was feeling protective and wanted to flex his muscles a little bit. He had earned it, she thought. And it wasn’t often she got to see him jealous, not when everyone on base quickly learned that Freddie was Rosie’s girl and thus made sure to keep a wide berth. She was rather enjoying it. She thought the two of them would probably have to cut their night short, too, though for entirely different reasons to the group of airmen currently nodding, eyes wide like deer in headlights.

“Alright,” Rosie agreed. He turned back to the disciplined airmen. “Dismissed.”

They scattered like a handful of marbles dropped on a hardwood floor, hurrying over to hand their drinks back into the bar before scurrying out of the door with their tails between their legs. The last in line threw one final glance back over his shoulder as though he expected Rosie to follow them. 

As soon as the door closed behind them Freddie turned into Rosie completely, wrapping both of her arms around him and nuzzling into his chest. “Thank you, Bärchen,” she said softly.

Rosie’s arms twined around her in turn, holding her close. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before answering, “Not a thing, honey. I don’t think they’ll give you trouble again but let me know if they do, alright?”

Freddie hummed her agreement.

“You want a drink?”

“I want you,” Freddie replied simply. She withdrew her head from his chest to look up at him with a coy smile. “Can I have you?”

“Now?” Rosie asked. He was starting to grin.

“So big and strong and protective,” Freddie said, tilting her head to one side. She moved her hands to his biceps and started rubbing slowly up and down, gazing up at him from beneath her lashes. “Yes now. Millie and Jem will look after Meatball and I happen to know for a fact my office is empty.”

“Oh?” Rosie humoured her. “That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it just?” Freddie mused. “So what do you say, Major? Gonna let me take you on a date?”

“Absolutely I am,” Rosie decided, his eyes all lit up with stars. “Whatever my princess wants.”

Freddie laughed, taking his hand and starting to cart him towards the door with her. “And they thought you weren’t married.”