#he's such a mess even when he's being honest

[bambisnc]

[ 01:03 ] his breathing is heavy when he pulls away from the kiss barely enough to speak, tilting your chin to look you in the eye, “jus' lose yourself f’me, love.” ♡

### . STARRING ⌢ n.rk ⋆ suggestive. angst. + 0.5k // unedited + kissing + implied on-off situationship ˖ ✧

🗨️ .. ⌞ XOXO ⌝ niki brainrot. blind eyes red by minnie inspo! + [m.list]

ex childhood best friend nishimura riki who stumbles into your apartment one late night with no calls, no texts informing you of his arrival. as per usual.

you wouldn't have even heard the knocking on the door, to be honest, due to the sheer volume of the pouring rain outside. but you do, inevitably, end up letting him in despite a small logical part of you screaming at you to not do it. as if you could’ve turned him away anyway.

when you finally end up face to face with him,.. his tousled hair plastered to his forehead, expression unidentifiably alluring; looking like an absolute mess due to being completely drenched from head to toe – you almost forget why you even broke off contact in the first place. almost.

as he staggers towards you, riki’s movements are tired, sluggish even – the stresses of idol life quite visibly taking a toll on him. his arms wrap around your waist like it’s second nature, all but leaning his entire weight on you. you’re used to this routine, of course, but that doesn’t mean it ever gets easier.

water drips off his entire being and seeps into your own dry clothing, making it stick to your skin. it feels uncomfortable, heavy. 

you want to push him away. really, you do.  

but the absolute desperation with which he clutches onto your figure, not very much unlike a man drowning being thrown a board too, makes you fall weak to his embrace.

then, before you know it, he’s angling your face towards his own and kissing you, mumbles of  "i missed you"'s being whispered against your lips. it’s laughable how easily you melt at the taste of him.

pretending like you haven’t been thinking about this for weeks on end now, would be to no avail, and the way you can feel riki smile knowingly.., god that infuriating smile of his., it just about drives you crazy.

you do have to give him credit for the impeccable timing. it’s like he can somehow sense the exact moment when you feel even the slightest hint of confidence that you’ll be fine without him. that you’re getting over him. he won’t ever let you stray away from him, no matter how hard it is on both of you. riki's too selfish for that. 

but you knew that.

or should have, in any case. definitely would’ve saved your heart a lot of trouble.

his breathing is heavy when he pulls away from the kiss barely enough to speak, tilting your chin to look you in the eye, “just lose yourself f’me, love.”

so, you do. for the moment, at least. 

… however, just as soon as he’d stumbled back into your life, he leaves. gone in a whirlwind of mumbles promises. ones you and him both know he’ll never keep no matter how much he might want to. 

the silence he leaves behind feels deafening. it’s colder now. you can’t help but wonder if riki didn’t just take the warmth with him. he took pieces of you too.

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[@bambisnc] 2k25

[holylulusworld]

Not my Logan (1)

Summary: Problems with the Multiverse suck. Even more when it brings someone back who has been long gone.

Pairing: Worst Wolverine x Immortal!Reader, Deadpool x Reader (platonic or not. You know him.)

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of loss of loved ones, grief, cocky reader, Deadpool being a pain in the ass, violence, mentions of killings, multiverse chaos, world building

A/N: For my story, all X-Men died, except for the reader. She lives in the same universe as Deadpool from DP & Wolverine. I don’t follow canon. Live with it.

Square filled for the Wolverine bingo @buck-star created for me: Square 1: Claws

“WADE! Wade Wilson! Stop right there!” You growl, ready to shoot the bastard breaking into your property. Well, technically it’s not your property. Or it is. Charles left it to you in his will. Not because you were his favorite X-Men, but because you are the last one standing.

You huff before jumping out of the window. Wade would’ve loved to stop and admire your superhero landing, but he’s busy chasing after a very pissed Wolverine.

“Wolvie, stop! She won’t understand! Fuck. Shit. I said, Stop!” Wade takes off his mask. He wheezes because all he did all day was chase after the worst Wolverine. Logan’s words, not his. “HEY! I didn’t tell you about her for you to run off. We still have a job to do!”

“WADE WILSON!” You start to run, seeing Wade kneel on the ground. He still tries to catch his breath as you storm toward him. “I’d kill you but watching you grow legs and arms is disgusting!”

Instead of decapitating his head or stabbing Wade, you slap the back of his head.

“Ouch, Y/N.” He complains loudly. Wade got stabbed and shot; he lost body parts but whines like a baby when you slap him.

“What are you doing here? No one is allowed to come here any longer. You know that.” You sniff when he slowly gets up. “Not since…”

“I get it, I get it!” Wade raises his hands in surrender before turning around to face you. His face is a mess as always, but you can’t help but smile, seeing a familiar face. If you’re honest, he’s the only friend (if you want to call the cocky motherfucker a friend) you’ve got left. “Extinction is hard.”

“What did you say?” You slap him across the face, earning another whine. “You are an insensitive asshole.”

“Sweetheart, we both know you would have outlived all of them, no matter what. It just happened a little earlier this way.” Wade shrugs before putting his mask back on.

You run one hand down your face and huff. “What do you want, Wade? Is the world on fire, or did you lose a ball again?”

“No jokes about a man’s balls,” he points a gloved finger at you. “But yes, the world is ending once again. Or not. I mean… It depends.” Wade babbles as you put your hands on your hips.

“What did you do? I bet you messed with the timeline again, huh?” you snap at Wade. “Because that worked out so well last time. I told you to not fuck with timelines and shit. The dead shouldn’t come back.”

“Oh, about that,” Wade nervously chuckles. “I swear I didn’t resurrect anyone, but…uh…you see. Maybe, and I’m not saying it happened. But maybe I was hopping through different universes to find an anchor to save our universe from destruction.”

“Wade.” You close your eyes and inhale sharply. “Whom did you bring here, and do I have to kill them?”

“No, no! You cannot kill him,” Wade hastily says. “I came here for a short break. You see, bad guys are after our cute asses, and this is the safest place I know.”

“Christ on a cracker, WADE!” You kick his shin. “I’ve been out of this business for years.” You dip your head, hearing someone sneak closer. “Why would you bring anyone here? This is a lost place. Dead and forgotten. Just like me and the rest of the X-Men. Just like—”

Twirling around, you ready yourself to attack the person sneaking toward you and Wade.

Your body goes stiff, and you whimper, facing the man you lost so many years ago.

“No…” You step back and shake your head. “No…no. Wade. Out of all the people you could bring here…you do this to me?!”

“I swear, if I had a choice, I’d never do this to you. But—” Wade sighs and points at the worst Logan, he brought to your universe. “He wouldn’t believe me. Logan said you must be dead here too.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I cannot die. I am…immortal. My Wolverine would know that.”

The man, looking so much like your one true love, dips his head. He has the same body, the same eyes, and the same claws. Hell, he even wears the same fucking suit. But he’s not your Logan. He’ll never be your Logan.

“Go away. Both of you. Whatever will happen to this universe is not my problem. Maybe I can finally rest then too.”

You turn around to walk away, leaving Wade and Logan’s clone behind.

“Wait, Y/N!” Wade jogs after you. “I know you’re angry, but I couldn’t stop him. If there’s only a tiny piece of the undefeatable Y/N still inside of you, help us. Help me save my friends and this world.”

“Your friends,” you say, your heart heavy with sadness and grief. You glance at the photo Wade shows you, swallowing thickly.

“If there was a way to save your friends, you’d do anything, right?” Wade presses on. Even though he knows it’s a low blow, he cannot shelter you or your feelings. You’re his only chance to convince Logan to help him and get his clones off his back. “Please help me…”

“What the fuck is that?” You dip your head to look at the ugliest dog you have ever seen. “Uh—is that thing even alive?” Crouching down, you poke the dog’s nose with your index finger. “Who did this to you, little pug?”

“I think he was born this way?” Wade chuckles while picking the dog up. “And he’s not ugly. Dogpool is the sweetest.”

“Y/N. How?” Logan finally found his voice. He steps closer to you and Wade, not looking you in the eyes. “Why did you do it?!” He yells before jumping at you.

Logan tackles you to the ground to ram his claws into your sides. He growls like an animal, stabbing you again and again.

“What’s his problem?” You laugh as Logan tries to kill you. His claws dig deep into your flesh, but it doesn’t do much damage.

“Uh—from what I heard, you killed his people because he didn’t love you or shit?” Wade shrugs before letting the dog lick his face.

“YOU!” Logan growls. He slides his claws back in to slam his fists into the ground. Again, and again, and again. You can hear bones crack and flesh tear. “Why don’t you die?”

Logan looks at you, shaking his head. “You’re not her…”

“I assume in your world, I was mortal,” you sit up and push Logan away. While you slowly get up, he watches you with tears in his eyes. “In this world, my Logan would’ve cut your head off for touching me.”

“After we introduced ourselves, we should talk about the guys wanting to end this world. Come on, sweetheart. You know you want to help your Deadpool.”

“You’re annoying as fuck,” you huff while rubbing dirt off your ass. “If you keep that thing in line.” You jerk your head toward Logan kneeling on the ground. “We can talk.”

“She’s not her…” Logan repeats. “Not her…”

“You sound like a broken record,” you say and slap the back of Logan’s head. “And for the record, you’re not my Logan either…”

Tags in reblog.

[pukefactory]

Hello! Haha it's my first time in this blog and I love it so far! I love your hcs! I'm sorry if this is too specific of a request but Would you do one of Sprout X GN reader.

How would he react to a reader that used to be fun loving and silly become more Short tempered, and depressed when Garden view shut down? They've been isolating themselves out of fear they'll blow up at him.

If not any general hcs for him is also fine!

Hey, thank you so much for your kind words, Anon! I’m truly grateful that you and others enjoy my blog. Don’t worry—your request isn’t too specific at all, and I appreciate you providing such a clear prompt. I hope this meets your expectations!

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊ DEAD MALL ₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

✶ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Sprout helping a melancholic reader

✶ Character(s): Sprout Seedly (Dandy’s World)

✶ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Angst, SFW

✶ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✸ Sprout noticed the shift in your demeanor almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to stress—after all, everyone was struggling with Gardenview’s shutdown in their own way. But as time passed, your usual playful energy remained absent, replaced by a lingering frustration that made you feel like a completely different person. It wasn’t just that you were quieter; you were angrier. It worried him more than he was willing to admit.

✸ He’s never been one for dancing around a problem, so when your mood didn’t improve, he confronted you about it directly. He didn’t mean to be pushy, but his concern overpowered any hesitation. “Something’s wrong,” he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood in front of the opening to your room. “Talk to me.” Even when you tried to brush him off, he stood his ground, refusing to let you isolate yourself any longer.

✸ The first time you snapped at him, it caught him off guard. You hadn’t meant to, but the frustration had been building for so long that it slipped out before you could stop it. His expression faltered for just a second—just long enough for guilt to settle deep in your chest. But instead of arguing back, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer. “That’s not gonna scare me away,” he muttered, softer than usual.

✸ Sprout isn’t the best with words, but he is persistent. When you started isolating yourself, he made it his personal mission to check in every day—whether you liked it or not. If you wouldn’t come out of your room, he’d sit outside the door, chatting about whatever came to mind. “I tried a new pie recipe with Cosmo today. I think I messed up the crust, but he said it was still good. You would’ve liked it.” His voice was casual, but his meaning was clear: I miss you.

✸ He knew you were afraid of snapping at him again, but that wasn’t something he cared about. “I can handle you being mad,” he told you one night, his gaze unwavering. “What I can’t handle is you acting like I don’t exist.” It was the closest thing to vulnerability he’d been in a while, but if being honest was the only way to get through to you, then he’d rip his heart open as many times as it took.

✸ Despite his pushiness, Sprout never forced you to talk before you were ready. Instead, he found small ways to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere. A freshly baked pastry left outside your room. A soft knock, followed by a quiet, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you want company.” No expectations, no pressure—just the promise that he was always within reach.

✸ When you finally started opening up again, it wasn’t a grand confession—it was a quiet, exhausted whisper as you sat beside him on one of the dining tables. “I just don’t want to say something I’ll regret.” He didn’t respond right away, just studied you for a long moment before finally murmuring, “Then I’ll just have to be patient, won’t I?” His usual bluntness was still there, but there was something softer beneath it, something only you got to see.

✸ As your mood slowly improved, he adjusted in kind. When you hesitated to reach out, he’d grab your hand first, squeezing it reassuringly. If you got frustrated and started spiraling, he’d guide you to the kitchen with a casual, “Help me bake something. You’re way better at kneading dough than I am.” Distractions, support, presence—he wasn’t always good with words, but he was good at being there.

✸ One of the few times you truly broke down, he didn’t hesitate. He let you cling to him, gripping the fabric of his scarf as sobs wracked your body. He didn’t try to shush you or tell you to calm down—he just held you, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You don’t have to act fine around me,” he murmured, voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. “You don’t have to pretend.”

✸ Over time, things got better. You weren’t the same toon you had been before Gardenview shut down, but you weren’t alone in that. Sprout had changed too—he had grown alongside you, adapting to your struggles without ever once making you feel like a burden. And through all of it, through every high and low, one thing had remained constant: he had never left your side.

[oh-phoenixx]

"Cauldron" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 706 words

-

“You need help with what?” Regulus sighed.

“The Draught of Living Death,” James repeated, an almost hopeful look in his eye which Regulus didn’t understand.

“Why do you need to make the Draught of Living Death? We do those in sixth year,” Regulus questioned, narrowing his eyes. “You’re a Seventh-Year.”

“Oh, er, yeah…It’s for, um…” James trailed off. Regulus gave him until the count of three to think of something, and when he didn’t, Regulus sighed once more.

“Yeah, I’ll help.” James’s face lit up at this, and Regulus rolled his eyes.

This is how, about a week later, Regulus ended up spending an evening with James in the Potions classroom. James was even more clueless than Regulus had anticipated, and he spent most of the few hours they were there simply covering the cauldron with his hand to stop James from putting the wrong ingredients in. 

The sixth-years, Regulus’s class, had made this potion only a few weeks prior, and so Regulus had it quite fresh in his memory. He only had to skim through the instructions a couple of times, and the rest was like muscle memory.

Regulus was just about to give James his next instruction when he noticed that it was already done. He looked suspiciously between the cauldron and James. “James?”

“Yeah, Reggie?” James grinned.

“Did you just add the Powdered Root of Asphodel?”

“Yeah, why?” James’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You have continuously failed to follow the instructions I give you, and yet you knew to add that without me having to tell you?” Regulus asked, tilting his head. 

James stammered out an answer that was something like ‘I made this last year and I remembered that part’, though this made no sense, as he had nearly messed up the entire potion so many times that Regulus was concerned for both their safeties.

Regulus knew James was lying about something, but he had been meaning to remake this potion anyway. His last version, while the second best in the class (the first best being Barty’s, as always), he did not feel entirely happy with. He knew he had made some mistakes here and there that Slughorn didn’t point out. So, even though James was clearly not being honest with Regulus, he didn’t stop ‘helping’ him with the potion.

Once the potion was finished, James smiled at Regulus, putting a hand on Regulus’s shoulder which Regulus glared at. James was undeterred, and moved his hand to ruffle Regulus’s hair instead. Regulus slapped his hand away and started to clean up. 

“Why did you ask me to help you make the potion when you already know how to make it?” Regulus asked, barely looking up from what he was doing. While he was glad to have another chance to make the Draught of Living Death, he did not enjoy being messed with. 

“Whaaaat?” James asked, pretending very poorly to be confused. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Reggie…”

“Twice you followed steps that I didn’t read you, while the rest of the time you messed up the simplest of instructions that I did give you.” Regulus was becoming increasingly frustrated, just wanting a simple explanation from James as to why he was intentionally wasting both their time.

“I just…thought it would be an easy way to get you to hang out with me,” James mumbled, scratching his neck unsurely.

Regulus gaped at this, both confused and flustered. Regulus was not one to get flustered or to feel ‘butterflies in his stomach’. So what the fuck was this? He turned away so that James wouldn’t see the blush creeping up onto his face. “Why?”

Very quickly, James muttered, “IsortoffancyyoubutIdidn’tknowhowtosayit.”

If Regulus wasn’t blushing before, he most definitely was now. He turned back to James, too shocked to be embarrassed. “You- You like me?”

James nodded, looking around the room nervously. Regulus shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. He refused to say it back. He was too good for this type of thing, foolish crushes and blushing and dancing around feelings. And if, when James finally did ask him out on an actual date, he couldn’t stop himself from saying yes. Well…that would be no one’s business but his own.

[shadowthesim237]

ᯓ water fountain

warnings: angst, crying, cheating, commitment issues, a situationship, slightly suggestive if you squint.

( english isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes! )

⋆.˚ i should've built a home with a fountain for us, the moment that she told me that she was in love - alec benjamin .𖥔˚~

"I love chris, and he loves me back, he cares about me..right?" that's what you kept telling yourself for a year. a whole year of pain and heartbreak. you were so honest with him and quickly opened up about your feelings towards him. but he never made a move or a step further into your relationship..

you shared almost every class in high school, you'd accidentally make eye contact and feel like the rest of the classroom froze and there's only you both in it, so you took the first step and asked for his phone number with the lame excuse of helping each other with homework, but he knew it wasn't true, because he saw the way you'd get all clumsy when he walks past you in the hallway, and how you lose focus when your friend group is trying to have a conversation but he's looking at you.

chris couldn't help it, he caught himself thinking about you all the time that it drove him crazy. he didn't know what made you so special. you're just his classmate and that's all, but his brain kept fighting that information and would still drift back to your stupid smile and your horribly perfect eyes. so when you asked for his number, his mind was a complete mess. but eventually gave up and handed it to you because he was so curious about you, he wanted to get closer and to actually know you.

after only two months of being friends, you were standing by the little water fountain in the hall, you thought he looked so handsome today that you didn't even think twice before saying "i love you", those simple three words escaped your lips while his head was burried in the sink drinking, he almost choked from surprise but reacted casualy and made your feelings feel seen, but what bothered you is the fact that you never heard it being said back once. with every passing day you felt more and more humiliated. why did you ever accept to be in this situation? you let him treat you like you were his, you could hear the jealousy in his tone whenever that boy would try talking to you. but why would he be jealous when you weren't even together.

chris had serious commitment issues and refused to admit it, but it was so clear to everybody else how he kept people at a safe distance, he never passed the talking stage once in his life with a girl, so you thought you were special, he made you feel different than the other girls from the way he treated you, but again nothing changed. you remained unlabeled to him god he never even touched you once it never escalated to anything more than long make out sessions. until one day you decided that you should stop this. he keeps this going and you couldn't take it anymore.

so at that night you were invited to a party and went without telling chris, why should he know what you're doing afterall it was none of his business? you saw that boy who kept asking you out repeatedly making his way towards you through the crowd. you were half drunk and completely unfazed by the guy's tries to talk to you.

you couldn't remember what happened next that made you wake up in that stranger's bed no matter how hard you try to squeeze your brain. you can only form a blurry image of that boy grabbing your hips and pulling you in, you kissed.. you let someone else kiss your lips other than chris. he whispered sweet things in your ear, about how pretty and valuable you are, you know you shouldn't listen, but you yearned that affection, you needed someone to fix that emptiness that chris didn't bother to fill.

you couldn't face chris after what happened, there's no way you were gonna tell him. so you ignored him for a couple of weeks, leaving him on read and not answering his calls, he was dying to know what happened out of a sudden. did he do something wrong? until you couldn't keep hiding any longer, guilt was eating you alive so you just asked to meet somewhere to talk.

the air was thick around you as you tried to put together your thoughts and confront him with the ugly truth that left you feeling dirty.

"I messed up.." your eyes were glistening with tears that your were fighting back. chris just sat in front of you trying to take in what you were saying. you simply cheated on him..

"why.. how could you?" chris was completely shattered and realized how bad he made you feel that it led to this. you tried to apologize but was too choked up from crying. and now nothing could be done to fix this.

he knew you both messed up, he regretted his choices and hated himself for letting you drift away from him. he lost you way before you slept with that guy. now he would often think about how lucky that other dude was, he wished he was in his place, he wanted to hold you close and cherish your body like you were the rarest diamond, but it's too late now, all because he was scared of commitment. the idea of being someone's boyfriend terrified him and now all he do is cry at the memory of you.

he would imagine that you're back with him, his heart now was broken like that water fountain's handle. but he was willing to fix it for you. he thought that if you gave him a chance, he'll open his heart and give it to you. but it's all for no use now that he had lost you. the two of you were still young and naive to go through all that. but you can't go back in time and change it. you're not even friends anymore because you know you did each other wrong and no matter what you'll do it will only hurt you more. so you decided to walk away quietly from each other's lives for the sake of keeping your peace and your dignity. it was the right decision because you still cared about each other's happiness and comfort after all and regretting won't change a thing.

deviders by: @bernardsbendystraws <3

taglist: @anyaa2s @m0nsterhighluvr32 @ily-tothemoonandback @nateismybf @cupiidk1lls @sturniolos4life16 @breesturns @domtorettosfamily @mamamadssss @caroline12b @reader-lola @dealerchr1s @lemonhoney2460 @freakshow-420 @emely9274 @mattsturniolofuckingsexy @jessie-essie @marrykisskilled @meatballlover10 @chrissturnioloslvt @trevorsgodmother @sophand4n4 @stvrnioloslvt @sturnshood @chrisslut04 @courta13 @pair-of-pantaloons

[slaymitchabernathy]

Guilty as Charged

Soarynn Snow would never consider herself to be a rule-breaker.

Ever since she was a little girl, she’s always followed the rules, the directions, the instructions, the guidelines. She saw no point in deviating, not when it would only end in her having to fix her mistakes and work twice as hard.

It turns out that following the rules applies to the ones marriage as well. There are a lot of unspoken rules in marriage, what to do, what to say, how to act. Over the years she's gotten acquainted with them and has learned to live with them.

But the other day she broke one, and it wasn't an uspoken one. It was a very clear, very explicit rule, written in red, bold ink and underlined several times in case she tried to act like she didn't see it.

Even now she's walking on thin ice, waiting for the ball to drop, for her husband to call her out on it.

The days have gone by at a tortoruous pace and her neves have only grown bigger and bigger by each passing day. The worst part is, he hasn't mentioned it once, which is unusual for Coriolanus who loves to point out a fault the moment he notices it.

She quietly walks down the hallway towards the guest rooms, needing some more blankets when she hears his deep voice call out to her from his study as she passes by.

"Darling."

Maybe she didn't hear him.

"Soarynn, I know you heard me."

She bites her lip, she knew they'd talk about it eventually, but not now! Sheepishly, she turns on her heel, peering into his study with the deceny to look guilty, "Oh, were you calling me?"

He cocks his head, beckoning her into the room with the curl of his index and middle finger. Soarynn swallows, there's no turning back now. Being inside of her husband’s study is still strange even after all these years, it's so masculine, so dark, so him.

And he looks devilishly handsome right now sitting in his chair, legs spread, curls tussled, shirt slightly unbuttoned. "Mhm," he answers, not looking impressed by her little innocent act, "why don't you have a seat?" He points at the chair across from his desk which casues her to frown, she always sits on his lap, not a chair.

Why sit anywhere but Coriolanus Snow's lap if you don't have to?

It's pointless to argue so she nods, rounding the desk so she can take a seat. Soarynn smooths down her skirt, crossing her legs at the ankle like the proper lady she is and is known to be. Coriolanus clasps his hands in front of him, he doesn't look angry which is good, but he doesn't look thrilled which is bad.

He's right in the middle of uncharted territory.

Soarynn doesn't have a map.

"The bank statement came today," he announces, nodding at a single sheet of paper sitting on the desk. It’s creased from being folded into an envelope which makes her wish she was checking the mail everyday, she could have avoided this mess for a little longer if she intercepted the mail.

He would've found out eventually, Coriolanus always sniffs out the truth like a bloodhound. He despises liars which means she has to be honest with him, even if the truth hurts.

All she says is, "Oh."

A smirk grows across his lips, he's always loved making her nervous, getting her flustered and it's so easy with him. Coriolanus has always had this effect on her since their first date. He's just so charming, so suave, always knowing what to say to make her blush.

"Why don't you read it out loud for me?"

Soarynn sits up straighter in her chair, a good captain goes down with her ship, even if she's the reason it's sinking in the first place. "I'd rather not." His eyebrows shoot up, rarely does Soarynn ever push back on anything he says, there's no reason to. Coriolanus is far from unreasonable, and she knows he'd never do anything to intentionally hurt her.

"Alright then darling," he says with a sigh, reaching for the paper, "I'll read it for you."

Soarynn braces herself for the worst, for the lecture that's bound to come with this lesson. "Let's see, the water bill, the electric bill, bills from the veterinarian, bills from the doctor, bills from your hair salon, and oh, look at this one, an enormous bill from one of your favorite little department stores."

Soarynn gazes up at the ceiling, noting how their apartment is filled with intricate design choices including the carvings in the ceiling. Vines with roses look down on her, as if the entire Snow lineage is bearing witness to her ridicule.

"Soarynn."

She looks back across at him, "Yes?"

"Do you know how much you spent on the fourteenth?"

Soarynn bruhses her hair behind her ears, she really hadn't meant to go overboard, she never goes overboard! "I don't recall," she mumbles.

Coriolanus grunts, pulling open one of his desk drawers, pulling out that stupid little book where he writes down all their expenses. "Well, let me refresh your memory because I did some digging and made a few calls to you know, make sure someone hadn't stolen your banking card and gone on a shopping spree. And it looks like you spent six thousand over the budget. On clothes."

Oops.

"I thought it was five thousand," is all she has to say. He does not look impressed, "There's tax darling, there's always tax. And I know, I know that you probably never look at the price tags but I beg of you, start looking before you start swiping."

Soarynn truly hadn't meant to go this overboard, she's usually so good at staying within her shopping budget. Has she gotten very close to going over it? Yes, but no one's perfect!

"There was a sale!" She blurts out, leaning forward in her seat and he leans back in his, "There was a sale, and there were these shoes, so you know, I had to find an outfit to go with them," she contuines.

Coriolanus nods, "Of course you did darling."

"And then I saw this bag, oh the bag, I don't think I’ve showed it to you yet but you'll love it. Anyways, the bag was also on sale so I had to get it, then came the jewerly, and the sales woman was so helpful."

"The sales women robbed us," he states plainly, shaking his head, "the moment you walked into that store I'm sure her eyes lit up and she started picturing what she'd buy with the commission she was going to make off of you."

Soarynn twirls her hair around her finger, she can't help it if she shops at high-end stores that have exceptional service. He'd have a fit if he found out that his wife wasn't being properly taken care of.

"I didn't do it on purpose, you know I'd never spend your money so flippantly."

Coriolanus tosses that stupid book on his desk, Soarynn wishes it would catch on fire. "I know you wouldn't darling, and I also know that you'd never keep this from me or avoid telling me about it before I had to find out through the monthly bank statement."

These pesky bank statements will have to go.

"So, as a precautuion, I'm going to put a limit on your card, once you reach it, no more swiping."

Soarynn almost falls out of her chair.

"WHAT!?"

His face morphs from a calm look to a concerned look, "What, what do you mean a limit!? What if there's an emergency!? What if I get lost or need to buy something to keep me safe!?"

"New shoes don't count as an emergency," he points out, resting his forearms on the desk, "nor do handbags, or dresses, or even lingerie." She didn't think he'd go there but he did.

"But you love my lingerie," she mumbles, deciding that pouting might be the best route of action. Coriolanus softly chuckles, nodding his head, "I do love your lingerie darling," he agrees, "but the good thing about lingerie is that you can wear it more than once."

"Not when your husband rips it down the middle because he can't figure out the clasps," she fires back, earning her a sharp look. Soarynn slumps in her chair, she's lost this battle and her unlimited spending. All hope is lost.

"It's not like I'm cutting your spending budget in half," he points out, "it's still the same, the only difference is that once you reach it, you can't go over it. And if you need to buy something else, something that's actually important then all you have to do is ask."

Soarynn would rather die but she won’t say that.

A life with a limit, a budget is such a foreign concept to her. From the moment she met Coriolanus he's always given her everything she's wanted. If anything, this is his fault. He's spoiled her and now it's gone rotten.

"I thought we were rich."

Coriolanus rolls his eyes, it's pointless to bicker but he's always been good at humoring her. "We are rich, and I'd like to keep it that way, which means limits and budgets. Every family does this darling, every husband sits his wife down and tells her to slow down on the spending. Now I understand that this is partly my own doing, letting you spend to your hearts desire but you need to reel it back in."

Maybe she can go to the bank and talk to someone about lifting this limit. She is after all, Soarynn Snow and as Coriolanus Snow's wife, she's practically a celebrity.

From the moment he slipped that ring on her finger, doors literally opened for her. Everywhere she goes she's given the best service, champagne while shopping, someone to carry her bags to the car, complimentary caviar.

What did he expect?

Soarynn Snow doesn't do budgets.

"I could pawn my wedding ring," she tries getting her a snort. "Good luck with that," he tells her, "we both know that you'll spend what you make off of it before the sun sets."

Coriolanus is so fucking annoying when he's right.

Soarynn pushes herself to stand, now that the cats out of the bag so to speak, there's no reason for her to entertain him anymore. Unless he's willing to pay for the entertainment.

"You could always get a job," he offers which earns him a lethal glare from his wife. "I'd rather hang myself," she hisses, stomping out of his study with a worse mood than she came in here with.

"Thank you darling! I'm so glad we had this talk!"

Coriolanus Snow is going to be very sorry about this.

꧁ ꧂

The next three days are filled with nasty glares and short conversations.

Everything he says to her she answers with either: "Yes" or "No" which is saying a lot for a woman who normally likes to say a lot.

By the fourth day, Soarynn is summoned back to his study and this time, he looks pissed off. Good, she thinks, he deserves to feel bad about what he's done to her.

"You've been ingoring me, which is extremely childish and unattractive," he says matter-of-factly. Soarynn shrugs, two can play the game of pettiness, after all, it takes one to know one and it takes two to tango.

"Soarynn, you act like I cut your banking card into a million pieces."

She folds her arms across her chest, her feelings will not be diminished, and neither will her pink banking card. "You might as well have," she snaps, "no point in using it now."

"Ignoring me will not solve your problem."

Soarynn grins, she's well aware thay giving him the cold shoulder won't help her cause, but she's not even trying to get this limit lifted, no, she's in it for the fun of the game.

"I know," she says sweetly, "but it does make you angry, which is priceless."

The veins in his throat bulge and his nostrils flare. Coriolanus, although he would never admit it, has a very short temper and after almost ten years of being together, Soarynn knows exactly how to light it.

He needs physcial touch, craves it from her so whenever she witholds it from him, he damn near loses his mind.

"You do realize that you are the one in the wrong, correct? You went over our budget, our shared budget. Do you know how hard it is to go over that?"

Soarynn tilts her head because she hadn't even thought of it like that. He made it seem like it was all her fault, but once again, it takes two to tango.

"Let me see the bank statement again," she requests, ignoring how surprised he looks. Soarynn usually avoids that piece of paper at all costs since it tells him exactly how much she costs but now she's curious. He always brings up her spending but never mentions his.

And Coriolanus Snow has very expensive taste.

He rummages through his drawer and brandishes the sheet of paper, handing it over to her and Soarynn scans over all the numbers printed over the page. It's entirely overwhelming, so thank goodness Coriolanus handles their finances because she would never do this willingly.

But he's always been obsessed with money, always wanting more of it. He thrives on stuff like this.

At the top are the largest charges, the utility bills, the rent. Boring, boring, boring.

Then she sees where she went on her little shopping spree, money well spent in her opinion and right under that charge, is another one, for a men's department store.

Soarynn's eyes light up at the sight of it.

Looks like Coriolanus did a little shopping on his lunch break.

"Oh, oh I think you neglected to mention that you also went on a little shopping trip," she says, scanning over more charges, "in fact, you've gone on a lot of little trips. Trips to the bars, to resturaunts, goodness Coryo, you sure are expensive. Why don't you ever read your charges out loud when we go over the monthly expenses?"

When she looks up form the paper she's met with a most enticing sight. Coriolanus squirming in his seat, looking very uncomfortable at the moment. "Well, well I know where I've been, what I've spent, I keep tabs on myself," he gets out, scratching the back of his neck, "I don't want to bore you with the details."

"Well I find this information to be very intersting," she informs him, "it looks like we both have expensive taste!”

He pulls at the collar of his shirt, all these years he's droned on and on about the importance of spending money wisley and here he is, spending money unwisely.

"Why don't I lift that limit on your card?" He asks, offering her a smile, "I mean, I acted a bit rashly, don't you think?"

Ah, sweet, sweet victory.

Soarynn sets the paper back on his desk, it's served it's purpose.

"Yes, and I expect an apology, from the heart. Since you've wounded mine."

She's milking it at this point but it's not every day that Coriolanus Snow eats his own words and gets a taste of his own medicine. Coriolanus is a proud man, never backing down from a fight, unless it's with his wife. He's tried to argue with her in the past and it's never ended well for him.

"Come sit in my lap," he says first, reaching out to her. Soarynn smirks, he's desperate for physical affection after these three days of getting the silent treatment. He likes to act all big and bad until he needs cuddles at night before bedtime.

So she humors him, gracefully rising from her seat so she can sit in his lap. It's cute how quickly he grabs her by the waist, instantly pulling her down onto his lap, gronaing at the feeling of her on top of him again.

"Your heartfelt apology," she reminds him, resting a hand on his cheek. Coriolanus swallows, he looks good when he's on thin ice with her, wide-eyed and nervous. No wonder he likes the same look when it's on her.

"Right," his voice is scratchy, "darling, my darling girl, the love of my life. I am so, so sorry that I withheld this informaton from you and put a limit on your spending. You've always been so good about spending and the one time you weren't, I overreacted."

Soarynn nods, doing her best not to look entirely smug about this fantastic victory. She got him to apologize and lift her budget.

Stranger things have happened but still.

“I accept your apology,” she tells him with a haughty tone, “although I don’t appreciate you hiding your own spending habits from me. For now on, you’ll read aloud all of the charges, not just mine.”

Perhaps this will cause a shift in his excitement for going over their bank statement. It’s very inconvenient, no one wants to learn about how much money they’ve spent in a month but this will hopefully reel Coriolanus back in.

He replies without hesitation, eager to put this little mishap behind them and preferably, her under him to make up for lost time, “I agree entirely, it’s a two person job from now on.”

Soarynn smiles now that all is well and more importantly, her spending limit has been lifted. Truly, the past few days have been torturous for her, every swipe of her card has been chipping away at her soul.

Soarynn can’t help it if she likes nice, shiny, expensive things.

“I just can’t believe you didn’t think I’d catch on to your spending,” she teases with a giggle when his cheeks turn pink, “I mean honestly Coryo, it was bound to catch up to you eventually.”

Coriolanus shrugs, probably glad to be rid of his little secret. It’s a little embarrassing how long it took for her to notice his lapse of mentioning his purchases but never late than never she supposed.

“What you didn’t know didn’t hurt you darling,” he points out, kissing her cheek. Soarynn closes her eyes at the sensation of his lips on her, while her spending has been limited, so have their moment together and it’s nice to be back to normal again.

“You’re so sneaky, you really do need to always have full control don’t you?” She asks in an amused tone. Coriolanus has always craved control since the day she met him, always needing to dictate every situation which includes their budget.

Coriolanus doesn’t even look ashamed, in fact, he looks proud and picks up the folded bank statement so they can both read all the charges and he grins at her.

“Guilty as charged.”

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @lovelylove268 @strawberriicakes @kickmybark @wonderlandbound111 @matcha-muses @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @erensrealgf @cervvsq @snowgirl12 |

[mamawasatesttube]

Are you still accepting asks for the ship ask game? Bc if so what are your thoughts on TimSteph?

oh sure, i'll take it!!

Don’t Ship It (gently)

1. Why don’t you ship it?

so when i say i don't ship it i mean like... i like what they had in canon vis a vis "childhood sweethearts driven apart by The Horrors and they can never go back". i love divorce.

but also if i'm being honest, a lot of chuck dixon's writing of steph was really grating to me - the way he bashed ari and later zoanne to prop up steph as the Correct/Better tim love interest (she's Quirky and Fun and #NotLikeOtherGirls!!!) left a kinda bitter taste in my mouth, and made it a lot harder for me to actually like steph or tim/steph as a ship, tbh. and it's really not steph's fault she got juggled from misogynistic shithead writer to misogynistic shithead writer, but it did mean that plotlines like "steph becomes robin in order to spite tim because she saw darla kiss him against his will and didn't stop to ask any questions. this is how teen girls behave right?" made me so tired in robin '93. i honestly enjoyed the times she got to appear without tim more than their relationship, for the most part, but ... oof.

2. What would have made you like it?

lewis getting to write more than like 20 issues of the run before fucking willingham showed up lmao. lewis run was the first time in robin '93 that i actually liked seeing tim and steph together or felt like steph even had much of a character. which is wild because dixon is the one who created her! it's just that dixon only knows how to write two kinds of women: "the old ball and chain" and "quirky whitegirl who throws herself at robin do you like her do you like her do you like her you have to like her!!!!"

as opposed to lewis, who actually gave her depth, like... explained some of how her dad made her childhood shit, went into her complex feelings on him and her relationship with her mom, and made it actually read like she and tim enjoyed spending time with each other, not just "he was a boy. she was a girl. can i make it any more obvious." if he'd stuck on the book i probably would like tim/steph way more than i do.

3. Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

oh sure! i think tim and steph have a fascinating dynamic. when you pick through all the issues with dixon and with willingham and with war games and all the writers that could not stop hating steph for the crime of being a girl (which... is a pretty tall order because jesus christ so many of them wrote her so shittily), you can kinda piece together a narrative that is really juicy.

my possibly unpopular steph take is that while i know her post war games and resurrection writing was not very good, i do actually find it compelling that she set assassins on tim at bruce's orders. i think having such a demonstrable and visible example of bruce being the driving force behind every single nail in the coffin of their relationship is fun. like, to me, timsteph is a formative relationship, but never an endgame one. there's a lot of fun stuff to say about them! i just unfortunately struggle to really enjoy picking through the mess of how steph has been written, so they don't compel me all that much.

[rosiesdisneydrama]

I'll be honest, I don't know anything about borrowers or borrower aus, but your borrower Stan au is excellent. I especially love the version where Fiddleford is the one to find Stan. When does Fidds figure out Stan is Ford's twin? Is it instant, or does it slowly get revealed?

I'm personally a big fan of dramatic irony and (funny) miscommunication, so I'm just imagining Fidds not realizing they're related (and Stan avoiding mentioning any family, especially not his twin) so when Ford shows up, absolutely ecstatic at being able to study this new anomaly, everyone is caught completely off guard.

Thank you! I’m kinda glad so many people like the idea behind this little lark! (Even if I don’t plan on writing it out myself. I’m already juggling 2 other gf aus rn.) It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who thinks they would be fun to read/mess around with.

Fidds definitely suspects that something is connecting Stan and Ford at the start just because the resemblance is too strong to be just from chance. I mean, they’re twins and the odds of some random stranger on the streets looking just like your roommate from college are pretty low in the first place. So he’s pretty sure the two are related in some way.

I’m also of the opinion that Fidds does know that Ford has two brothers and not just one.

Like, Ford and Stan spent the entirety of their childhoods and almost all of their teenage years together. I feel like there’s no way he could have completely omitted Stan’s existence from his roommate while cramming as many credits as possible into his college schedule. He may not have told Fidds that they were twins, but I don’t think he can have fully pretended that Stan never existed in the first place.

He may have been vague about the things from their childhood/teenage years but he didn’t try to wipe Stan from his own history.

Fidds might suspect that Stan is Ford’s missing brother but he would also believe they could be cousins instead. Until he gets some form of confirmation about it.

The most he’d probably be able to pry out of Stan before Ford shows up is that he was homeless/a drifter and that he (probably) didn’t think his family would have cared much about him maybe being missing. (Which makes Fidd’s heart go out to the poor guy because ouch man. That’s gotta sting…) Except for his Ma. She might file the missing person's report if Pa didn’t try to stop her.

And Stan wouldn’t suspect that the “Stanford” that Fidds was talking about might be his brother because, after all, the name isn’t that unusual. There are probably plenty of guys named Stanford out there. Just like there are plenty of guys named Stanley!

It’s not until his dorky brother practically breaks down the door in his excitement that he realizes he should have asked more questions about the anomaly guy.

And Ford is just blindsided.

[daeniradraconis]

The Leafs Legacy - Auston Matthews

Okay, so @tonyspep you gave me the sweetest idea with your comment! I know you were hoping for a more gentle Auston teaching his daughter to skate, but I thought the first game could be way more exciting! Hope you still love this take though!

So, here's daddy Auston being the proudest coach at his baby girl's first game. A few Leaf players make an appearance too. It's all about the fluff and cuteness! I just needed to write something like this today to make myself smile, and I hope it does the same for you! 💕 For more fun: masterlist❤️

—-

The arena buzzed with excitement—a lively mix of proud parents, devoted fans, and an entire section filled with Toronto Maple Leafs players, all gathered to witness history: the very first game of the newly established Leafs Girls' Program. And at the heart of it all, standing tall behind the bench in his team-issued jacket, was Auston Matthews—head coach of the future generation of hockey stars.

You still remember the promise Auston made when Clara was born. At the time, you thought he was joking about starting a Maple Leafs girls’ team, but that stubborn fool never let it go. For nearly a year, he hounded the directors and senior managers, relentless in his mission. You’re pretty sure they only gave in just to stop him from spamming their inboxes with proposals and cornering them with passionate speeches. But now, seeing the pride in his eyes as he watched his team, you knew—he had won.

From the stands, you held little Auston Jr. close, his tiny Maple Leafs onesie making him look impossibly adorable. At just three months old, he had no clue what was going on, but nestled in your arms, surrounded by the bright lights and the roar of the crowd, he was completely content. And in that moment, so were you.

You and Auston had talked about having more kids after Clara turned one, but life didn’t unfold as expected. Months turned into years, and despite your best efforts, nothing happened. Eventually, you both quietly let the topic go. But then, just as you were getting ready to settle into your life as a family of three, at nearly 36 years old, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—a miracle.

When you told Auston, he cried like a baby, overwhelmed by emotion. And to be honest, you were a hot mess too, crying and laughing at the same time.

You may not have ended up with enough kids to fill a hockey team, but you were surrounded by love—cherished by your little ones, who meant the world to you. The small moments of chaos and laughter, the sleepy snuggles, and the endless hugs were all you needed. And as for Auston, he never let you forget, that he was right about one thing: you were an absolute smoke show MILF.

But then, your attention naturally shifted. You glanced over at the ice, where Clara stood, her little figure tiny against the rink. She wore an oversized Leafs jersey, her pink and purple helmet snug on her head, and her tiny hands gripped her stick with surprising confidence. She looked so small out there, but the look in her eyes? That was all Auston. You could see the fire, the determination—just like her dad. In that moment, you knew she was going to make her own mark, and maybe even take after her father in more ways than one.

Auston paced behind the girls on the bench, hands on his hips, barking out encouragement like he was coaching a Stanley Cup Final.

Mitch, sitting right next to you, burst into laughter, nudging William. "Oh my god, look at him," he snorted. "He’s gonna lose his mind before the game’s even over."

William grinned, shaking his head. "I’ve never seen him this hyped, and we’ve played playoff games with him."

The rest of the guys joined in, chuckling at Auston’s visible excitement. Your heart swelled with warmth. You knew how deeply Auston loved his team, so seeing them here—supporting him, even if they were absolutely going to tease him about this later—meant the world to him.

You laughed along with them, bouncing little Auston Jr. in your arms. "He’s ridiculous," you said, shaking your head. "But you all know you’re going to be just as bad in about two seconds." You shot them a teasing grin, but Mitch and William both shook their heads in disbelief, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.

And sure enough, the game finally started.

"Alright, ladies! Keep your sticks down, eyes on the puck! Clara, get ready!" Auston called out.

Clara looked back at her dad, giving him a firm nod before turning her attention to the faceoff. You couldn’t help but smile—she was only five, yet she carried herself with the same intensity Auston did before a big game.

The puck dropped, and the game was on.

Clara skated forward, her tiny legs working overtime as she chased after the puck. The other girls scrambled in every direction, but somehow, she managed to gain control. She took a few unsteady strides before taking what could only be described as the most adorable shot attempt ever. It wasn’t the hardest shot, and it wobbled a bit, but it went straight into the tiny net.

The arena erupted into cheers.

Auston lost his mind.

"YES, CLARA! THAT’S MY GIRL!" he shouted, jumping up and down. He turned to the Leafs players in the stands, waving his arms wildly. "DID YOU SEE THAT?! GOAL SCORER GENES!"

And as you predicted, Mitch and Willy shot up from their seats, cheering like maniacs.

"Future first-liner!" Mitch called out, clapping his hands.

McMann grinned and joined in. "She’s got her dad’s shot. Go, Clara baby!"

You shook your head, laughing as Auston continued his excited antics on the bench. Clara, meanwhile, looked up at her dad, her little face beaming with pride beneath her helmet.

She skated back to the bench, nearly tripping in her excitement, and Auston scooped her up the second she reached him. He lifted her high in the air, twirling her around.

"You did it, baby girl! First goal of many!"

Clara giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. "Did you see, Daddy? I scored!"

"I saw!" he beamed, pressing a kiss to her helmet. "And I think that means ice cream after the game. What do you think?"

Clara gasped, her little eyes going wide. "With sprinkles?!"

"With all the sprinkles in the world," Auston promised, setting her back down on the ice. "Now go get another one, superstar."

She grinned and skated off, ready for her next shift.

Back in the stands, you turned to the guys beside you, only to find them still on their feet, cheering as if Clara had just won the Cup.

Mitch was cupping his hands around his mouth. "SIGN HER TO AN ELC RIGHT NOW!"

William was whistling, and Bobby nodded approvingly. "She’s a natural."

You smirked. "And here I thought Auston was the only one who’d lose his mind over this."

Mitch turned to you, completely serious. "Are you kidding? That was ELITE."

William grinned. "We should be scouting her already."

You just shook your head, laughing as they continued their proud-uncle act. Meanwhile, Auston stood at the bench, hands on his knees, grinning from ear to ear as he watched his daughter—eyes filled with pride—like she had just scored the game-winning goal in the Stanley Cup Final.

Little Auston Jr. stirred in your arms, and you glanced down at him, brushing a soft kiss against his tiny forehead. "Looks like you’ve got some big skates to fill, little guy."

The game continued, filled with more adorable chaos, but in that moment—watching your husband on the bench, your daughter on the ice, and your newborn son in your arms—you knew one thing for sure.

This was happiness. This was everything you had ever dreamed of—and more.

Note: ELC = Entry-Level Contract. An ELC is the standard contract given to rookie players entering the NHL, typically when they're signing their first contract after being drafted.

[crushedsweets]

Please feel free to use my ask to talk about your oc, she's neat!

Ahhh thank you!!!

I’ll be honest I don’t really know WHAT to say about her unless I’m given specific prompts … partially because I have a hard time writing for her cuz I can’t settle on a “main” universe and that messes everything up LOL

Anyhow. I think Mayhaps I’ll talk about her ghosts and how those mess with her

Being the only child on the orchard attracted a lot of ghosts to her. Most of them are slender-sick ghosts that died because of him(whether directly or indirectly by proxies or suicide).

It started off as little animal ghosts or other children playing with her or adults just watching her from a distance, standing in the tree lines and disappearing when she walked too close. She would tell her family and they’d be like “okay bonnibel head on inside” believing she was just making stuff up or had imaginary friends

It only took the next few summer before it started getting intrusive and creepy. The adult ghosts walking towards her playing outside, and she’d notice them covered in blood or having animal heads or various other Not Normal Things. It would scare the shit out of her, obviously, but because it was sort of a like… gradual increase in severity, and her family kept brushing it off as her wanting attention, she’d start keeping it to herself while still. You know . Panicking

I Imagine one summer she’d be climbing a tree, jsut having fun as a child would be, and a ghost suddenly appeared at the top of the tree trying to grab her. She falls and breaks her arm. LMAAAAOO. Comes screaming and crying on the way home . That’s one of the times her papa would go storming outside with a shotgun to find whoever tried grabbing Bonnie(setting an example for her.) but he obviously didn’t find anyone. Bonnie had a cast for the rest of summer

After she killed the woman in the forest around age 12, she got a new ghost. It’s the dark figure with the teeth and eyes I usually draw her with! That one followed her all the way to California, even when it wasn’t summer at the orchard. That’s part of the reason she didn’t go back for so long, the guilt/fear of being caught, and cuz she had a CONSTANT reminder of how awful the hauntings were. She could handle one ghost, but several ??!!

After she came back to the orchard in her late teens/early 20s, she started carrying a pistol around in her bag. Mostly because that’s when proxies start actually stalking her. She didn’t used to have proxies on her ass, but now that she’s an adult, slenderman isn’t exactly sure he still wants her roaming around. But he thinks there could be some use for that little. Um. Talent of hers. So it’s complicated

She doesn’t even keep the gun loaded though LOL she Carries bullets in case she needs to load it but she’s very freaked out that she’d accidentally shoot herself in the leg sitting down too quick. Whether it works that way or not

I honestly have no clue how I plan to end her story. Either she goes back to Cali and stays there, or she dies. Or I guess maybe she becomes like… not a proxy cuz slendy would NOT want her ass, but sort of a tool? An asset? Again, using the whole ghost ability to get information proxies might want. This would work in my AU especially cuz the proxies are always trying to ward off the paranormal in Tuscaloosa

[anneapocalypse]

#on my recent arr replay i was like wait... i can read a lot more foibles/wrinkles into moenbryda than people usually give her in the fridge #like she gets off that carriage and is like 'damn this shit sucks!' #she's extremely direct and blunt and opinionated #(and has a certain... sharlayan superiority that the others seem to have lost?) #(again this is me messing around in the text. bc i think it's fun when women have character traits) #anyway. big agree on the last paragraph #if they were together they read to me as 'best friends who dated in high school and the breakup wasnt as amicable as they think it is'

@plounce Listen I'm so here for all of this. I think the brief time we spend with her does show a Big Personality and yeah that includes some traits that could be off-putting to some. She's definitely blunt--on the one hand telling Minfilia right in front of the WoL that the best she can say of their odds is "better than even" and "if it fails, your people won't suffer" can come off as cavalier, but on the other, maybe on a level it's refreshing that she's just honest about it, as opposed to other Scions who are always like "We know you'll come back because it's you." Again I think her being a scientist might have something to do with this--she's used to quantifying things that way, it wouldn't occur to her to do otherwise.

And as for her and Urianger, I always think of "An axe ill becometh the hand of a scholar." URIANGER PLS 😂 I do not doubt that they love each other dearly, but truly their interactions in canon do have "messy breakup" written all over them. to me. 🥲(To be clear I think it's perfectly valid not to read it as romantic, that is just my preference!) The way Urianger begs her to come and then FREAKS OUT when she greets him with a hug... I've mentioned before that that reads like code-switching panic to me, despite the fact that many of his friends were also friends with her, like... suddenly she's here and he doesn't know how to act around her anymore, meanwhile Moenbryda doesn't second-guess herself at all and just goes for it and his brain short-circuits, and then she flirts with him in front of everyone and he gets so flustered... like, god, these two make me want to gnaw on the furniture.

Urianger and Moenbryda are clearly set up as polar opposites in so many ways--in personality and temperament, even in the simple fact of her being a tank and he being a caster/healer--but it's especially interesting to me that they're also opposites in their fields of study. Moenbryda is a scientist, Urianger a humanities guy--in modern real-world terms I'd say his specialization in prophecy with the way it's applied in-universe translates roughly to something in between Divinity and Classical Studies. While he no doubt has some general scientific education as I'd assume any Archon would, and he can read an aetherometer as all of them can, he is not a scientist. In fact I'd probably call him one of the least scientifically-minded of the surviving members of the Circle of Knowing. (And it's probably not a coincidence that he's also seemingly the most devout... but that's another post for another day. 😉)

Notably, while Louisoix mentored many of the Archons we know in various ways, Urianger is I think the only one who actually shared Louisoix's specific academic field. (Louisoix was considered Sharlayan's foremost expert on prophecy specifically, and it was his interpretations of prophetic texts that led him to take the Circle of Knowing to Eorzea.) While NPCs' combat classes tend to overshadow their academic fields somewhat in the game itself, it's plain from both Urianger and Moenbryda that this is not always a one-to-one correlation. With some, the two are plainly much more closely correlated, as with Thancred (though it's interesting to note that he was a gladiator and not a rogue in 1.0), and probably also Y'shtola. I am uncertain at this time what specifically Yda (the real Yda) studied, though it doesn't seem unreasonable to guess that her field might have been more tactically-oriented, not unlike Thancred. Papalymo, according to EE1, "indulges his passion by deciphering ancient spell tomes," which doesn't seem far removed from the study of thaumaturgy, though with a distinctly academic bent. His interest in ancient texts seems to me to place him closest to Louisoix and Urianger, and that's probably relevant when considering his moniker of "Louisoix's finest pupil."

Moenbryda's affinity for the axe is unrelated to her academic studies, and according to her dialogue, long preceded them. Urianger seems to have done some notable work in the field of arcanima, with his use of the unique amber carbuncle (though it seems this remains purely a personal accomplishment as no one else has ever been able to replicate his work, which is fascinating in its own right). This seems both secondary and largely unrelated to his work with prophecies, and indeed while he can hold his own when needed, until Shadowbringers it's a rare thing for him to actually take to the field with his companions--either for combat or direct observational research. When he does, it's noted as unusual, as in the 2.3 quest where Urianger actually ventures into the sylphlands to witness Ramuh firsthand, and is rather starry-eyed about it. "Never till this day had I looked upon his visage save in painted renderings, made faint by time..." Urianger's field of expertise is highly esoteric and highly theoretical, his beloved texts always several steps removed from the realities they attempt to describe.

And somehow, I don't think it's a coincidence that only one patch later, he's at last called upon Moenbryda to come join the Scions in Eorzea. Moenbryda the tank, Moenbryda the aetherologist. Moenbryda who is determined to join the Warrior of Light in confronting Shiva until Urianger begs her not to. Moenbryda who likes to be in the thick of things, to observe the world up close and personal. Moenbryda the scientist.

In that light, I can't help seeing something scientific even in the way Moenbryda went about befriending her, as she calls him, "excruciatingly stiff childhood friend": studying him, reading the books he read so as to better understand him. Direct observation.

And what does it say about Louisoix, I wonder, that it was the most scientifically-minded of his followers that he chose to leave behind? It's plain to see how Moenbryda's talents would have been invaluable to the Circle of Knowing in Eorzea. Urianger claims that Master Louisoix merely wanted Moenbryda to "discover her own path, free of the shadow of his influence." Long as I've contemplated that choice, I'm still not really sure what he meant. With so many students from varied backgrounds, why did she, of all of them, need to "discover her own path?" Urianger frames it in terms of Sharlayan politics: Louisoix made a pariah of himself in leaving Sharlayan for the salvation of Eorzea. Moenbryda was one of the few in his circle whom we know had living family in Sharlayan, so I think it is possible his concerns were at least in part for her personal ties. Yet I can't help wondering, also, if he felt some part of her temperament, her approach to learning, might be at odds with the way he meant to carry out his work in Eorzea.

Louisoix's decision, and Urianger's continued devotion to the man, certainly drove something of a wedge between two lifelong friends, but it seems plain to me that there was always a certain friction between them. Moenbryda herself says it was a wonder they got along, and I can only imagine the arguments, the misunderstandings, the dissonance in their ways of thinking over the years. Scientist and theologian, they had such fundamentally different approaches to the world, even as they still clearly cared for one another so deeply.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

ohhh i just know magneto is so pathetic in bed constantly asking charles if he’s making him feel good and charles just praising him like 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌

THIS IS WHAT I LOG ON TO THIS WEBSITE FOR 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[moeblob]

"Him? Oh, you know, he's kind of a loser." - probably everyone except for his younger brother.

Germaine is based on the layer of hell (Dante's Inferno) for material wealth before self, others, and god. So basically very materialistic and possessive of his belongings. Unfortunately, his younger brother qualifies as a belonging in his mind. So he does his absolute best to keep his brother safe and sound and scratch free - which is a bit tough in a post apocalyptic setting but he mostly manages.

Also a fact I just like to mention: he is incapable of lying.

[firebirdsdaughter]

I really…

… Love T&B s2 for exploring Yuri a bit more.

I was already fond of him from s1, but I just got more and more attached in s2 (and then they had to go and do that).

I think, in his own, slightly messed up way, he does actually like Kotetsu. While watching I joke about Tiger being his favourite hero, but I think, in a way, he is, because of how honest he is. Tiger has an idea of 'justice,' and he'll argue w/ Yuri, both as Lunatic and as a judge, about it. Yuri doesn't get a lot of people debating w/ him. In addition, I think he does genuinely consider Kotetsu a noble person, despite his own twisted up priorities and ideals. That's not to say he'll hesitate to fight him if they're on opposite sides, but I think he puts stock in Kotetsu's convictions and values even more than some of the other characters.

And on the flip side, I think part of the reason Kotetsu also bothers him is that he's not just reminded of his father, but I think he sees who his father was once/should have been. Even though they argue some of the same concepts, and even though Yuri gets a bit riled up when his view is challenged (bc it brings his own conflicts and self loathing to the surface), Kotetsu never gives any indication of actually ending up like Legend. He tries to retire, then is fine sticking in Second League, and just continues adjusting and doing what he can w/ the one minute he has. He doesn't take the frustration out on other people. And I think that's part of what gets under Yuri's skin when that conversation comes to a head bc in a way, it proves it is possible. Maybe that his father's fall from grace could have been avoided. Maybe that his stance is wrong, and he's got so much untreated mental and emotional trauma balled up in there that he's just straight up not ready to deal w/ it (gods, that man needs therapy so badly).

And that's part of what makes the official ending (barring any continuations that produce any miracles [no, I have not already Fixed It in my headcanon, leave me alone!]) so tragic, is that maybe, honestly, Kotetsu and Barnaby could have helped him get to the help he definitely needed. I actually really liked their interactions—and while I'm mainly talking about Kotetsu in this post, I do think Yuri also… Kinda identifies w/ Barnaby (abused by a father [figure] who espoused noble ideals while doing terrible things), and genuinely meant to 'help' by going after Maverick… Except of course that answer didn't help Barnaby any more than it's helped him.

To try and get to what I think my point was, the two of them likely stood the best chance of getting through to him. One, in a way, knows a little bit of what he's going through (including 'traumatised at a young age') and the other is straight up a good fucking person who I think personifies (if a little more of a dumbass than intended) what Yuri initially considered heroes to be/thinks they should be, deep down. It was enough to make me wish those three had gotten more, in depth interactions on their own, makes me think that they really would have had the best chance to talk him off that ledge… If it hadn't been for Other Factors.

If any of that made sense? Listen, it's late, I'm on my second rewatch right before I go to bed, I have Thoughts.

[dcviated]

On her? Never. The thought instead strikes Wylan's mind that Sonia would be able to pick up any weapon she saw; any knife, gun, or even the leg of the stool she was sitting on and strike him. Once or twice or however many times it took. It wouldn't have been right for him to stop her, not after everything he'd done or played with. She's reminding him of that now, recounting the circumstances of those things that 'could have been dates'.

"You held back so much because you were scared of me, geez. I thought I was the one who was supposed to be ... I dunno. I'd say pathetic but more wary? Or something? It's not wrong to look back at some of that and consider it flirting or dating, is it? I dunno. I dunno. Shit. We're categorizing dates and what isn't a date of all things. If you put like.."

Wylan lifts his hands up, in time with the descent of the elevator as they made their way from the upscale hotel.

"Uhh... Venn diagram! That's what it's called. You could put like everything we did into a date circle, or not date circle, and ... the overlap is kinda? I think some of it could be dates! The grey part is how we felt and I honestly. I think it's pretty mature of me now to look back and say I had those feelings. Ahem. Otherwise..."

A gesture of dismissal.

"Would I have chased you across Europe? Would I have abducted you from America? Would I have camped on a ski resort with you? Snuck into abandoned hospitals? I mean. I've done a lot of shenanigans with people but the things with you... all of them were..." Wylan turns his gaze to Sonia, more fond than ever after all of the reminiscing. The smile is gentle.

"...pretty cool I guess." And with that he brings her in with that arm around her waist (when'd he sneak that there?) and plants his lips firmly to her cheek, and the two make their way with... hmm... Wylan wagers there were two cars following them and that the guy with the coffee and the earpiece was total coincidence that he turned his head to the right soon as they left the hotel?

Right. That's fine. This is fun. And maybe with Sonia the shopping in the Galeries Lafayette would be fun, too? Stepping into the building, it's interior somehow even more extravagant than it's front, he's confident of this. But not sure just how that fun would come about. "Hot damn. If there was ever a cathedral to capitalism... it's not Mall of America. It's this." Maybe he's a little too distracted to consider her question properly.

Maybe he just can't decide.

"They don't sell Sketchers here, do they? I could use some more comfy sneakers."

She'd had, she remembered as she dressed, given him a run for his money. It wasn't as if she'd even grown up at arcades, but having a best friend who was a professional gamer did help at times. Even more so that she was patient, eager to instruct, and mostly just wanted to have a friend to play games with whether it brought her any amount of competition or not. Sonia smiled at the thought: she'd have to tell Chiaki about this soon.

Though perhaps, in an effort not to worry her, she'd leave the part about how Wylan had brought several firearms illegally (she guessed) into France as some sort of backup measure.

"How did you plan to use them, if so? On me?" She asked, perhaps in a tone far too light for the question. If just for the fact she didn't think he would, but he'd brought them for a reason. A roundabout question to get to the real one: What are you afraid of?

Another question for another day, particularly after the previous night had been so exhausting in a multitude of ways. Besides, he'd steered the conversation into something else meaningful: the denial they shared about their feelings for one another. Nevertheless, it still didn't stop her pausing as she applied her lipstick: he too had loved her, enjoyed her company, when she'd been either too oblivious or too wrapped up in her own self-sabotage to tell him as such.

"Did you, now," She spoke after her hands had moved again and finished applying the deep rose shade to her lips. Finishing, she placed the cap on the tube and the tube in her purse before standing up to face him. "I thought I was the only one. If I'd said something, I figured you would've pushed me away. I suppose spontaneously kissing you to distract another European aristocrat from recognizing me was a feeble attempt at a diversion and to express myself: how much I enjoyed being around you, seeing all the sights Las Vegas had to offer." Restaurants filled with junk food, fake castles that housed casinos, frozen alcoholic drinks in sizes Sonia hadn't known drinks to be served in. So much of it was a blur for so long but with him there, now, she was recalling the highlights of their adventure away from their lives, or at least her security.

Paris, however, didn't quite offer the same level of frivolity and tackiness, unless one knew where to go. Maybe she'd lead him to something equivalent later but first, clothes. "Oh, I would say this is our first date, yes," She replied, grinning as she let him pull her close. Sonia had guessed that, in their absence, the rest of the party would scatter. Her security, to prepare to discreetly tail them the entire day (though knowing Wylan, she felt certain he'd know their presence and approximate distance everywhere they went). Her family, because they didn't want to risk hearing anything they really didn't wish to. "If we are going on an outing where we are honest with one another about what we are feeling. Though I suppose with that logic, last night counts? Or does a date count if we went out with feelings for one another that went unshared?" She thought briefly of the various instances where he'd be telling jokes and attempting to get under her skin and she highly considered responding in kind with kissing him and seeing what happened.

Actually, that wasn't the worst idea to try now. But maybe not on the streets of Paris, after taking the elevator to the lobby and quickly crossing through it, head down and pressed into Wylan's side. She would do her best not to be recognized, though it was far easier at night than it was late morning.

"What would you consider our first date, then?" She inquired as she led the way north, away from the Tuileries and towards the famed opera house, near to where the department store was located. She hadn't really thought about it until then, but Sonia was reluctant to call the previous evening their first date: they'd both been hungry, for food and other things and were so emotionally wrung out that it simply felt like relief when they'd both been fed. But today...today was different. Today felt lighter, warmer, even if it was simply being held against him as they walked through the busy streets, avoiding various tourists, shoppers, and locals simply wanting to get from point A to point B.

It wasn't a long walk, the most difficult part of it all passing every cafe beginning to ready its outdoor seating for the early lunch crowd. Food and clothes could both be taken care of at the department store and rather well, in fact: she wondered if he'd have any interest in the food halls that spanned the Galeries Lafayette's third building. "Here we are," She announced once they'd arrived: less busy than the main store across the street, she'd taken him to the smaller department store of the three: four floors devoted entirely to men's fashion, accessories, and skincare. She'd grabbed the door first, mostly out of habit: without security detail, she relished in getting her own doors, her own shopping trolleys, her own bills. "Admittedly I haven't shopped for clothes with someone in awhile. What sort of style would you like to get?"

[face-breaker]

fighting the urge to mix a lil' honey badger into sett —