#i HATE him i hope he DIES and GOES TO HELL (affectionate)

[5kiyo]

hello to everyone who cares about the 2011 tsp (im everyone)

[concert-bflat]

I need to rant about Ivan guys guys I neeed to rant about Ivan (<--- keeps trying to write fics of him but Never finishes him) like God this man is so gay and so in love it genuinely hurts it Hurts and I am Injured by it and the imagrey is Sooo Good (and Yes this is probably me just parroting stuff Everyone has already said before but shut up it's my turn now!! (aka please I've been holding in these thoughts for Months now I must let them out of their cage before one of them Dies)) [Edit I am Not fucking proofreading this I spent 2 hours on it if there is a mistake you Imagined it </3]

Just like,

You can see it in the way he sees the stars in Till. His own hopes for freedom and the only real light in this world that he lost sight of in Till. He is the hope and wish for freedom that he has shut away and repressed and it makes him fall So Hard

Or how you only really see that red in his eyes (after. Almost Dying) when he's with or singing/thinking about how Till has Inspired him, like a fire has been lit inside him. A fire lit in the darkness. . hmm...

even at the end of the song, where he knows full well that he absolutely Crushed his opponent and also knows full well that Till is his next one. I'm sick. I'm so sick.

Or like. When he frees Till and everything is just Engulfed in that red now. How Till has that same fire in his eyes, he and Ivan are on the same page now. They see that same hope for freedom and they both share it. They're running towards the light (like the sky's lighter there, more on that in a sec), hell, the corners of the right side of the screen are literally tinted in LIGHT GREEN. Till's color. God dammit the whole scene is tinted in red and green. They are literally Complementary Colors. I'mmm soooooooo (God these scenes are soo pretty too I was genuinely Stunned when I first saw this)

DID YOU EVEN NOTICE I ONLY NOTICED NOW the Stars are fucking green. You can see it better in some of the Later Images but they are Literally Green because Ivan sees the stars in Till and uuuughsdfbshb

OR LIKE WHEN TILL TURNS BACK?? AND. And that red is no longer in his eyes and before The Realization hits Ivan his eyes are just Glowing with red. Because he was just Filled with that hope. Freedom was, potentially, Right There

Did you guys even notice in that like. 5 frames in the half-second animation of Till turning away he's totally engulfed in his shade of green. Like of Course. That's such a Till thing to do because of Course he's running back he never actually liked Ivan that way in the first place.

And also the lighting of the sky Flips. Because the light has always been with Till. And Ivan's left in the darkness. In the. Haha. Ha. Black Sorrow. Aha *sits down cries*

And Again with this mf's stupid eyes how they revert to just black because that hope's been stripped away again, how it's even reflected in his present self singing as he reminisces on it. Fucking. Ivan's Expression when Till runs away.T here's so fucking much like the irony. Like did he even see Till hesitate or did he just see him turn and run away.

Like the irony that the guy who's always breaking the rules and fighting and defying and clearly hating living in a world like this won't run away with him, who has always been passive and obeying the rules and just accepting captivity and has been repressing his desire for freedom is so Bitter and Awful but also he always Knew this would happen what the Hell was he thinking this was such a stupid idea like

this man gets No Breaks No Breaks Ever oh yeah btw they're facing off against each other in a literal Death Match. That they might've had a Chance of avoiding if they ran away. Ahah. Hh *sob*

Also this art brings me so much Joy as much as it hurts me on a visceral level like. Ivan Always has his eyes on Till but it goes from a fond smile. Like So Fond flat out lovestruck affectionate gaze because he loves this man and loves spending time with him to a grimace once they're on stage. How Till never really changes or really Has Changed, and that's why Ivan loves him as much as he is resentful towards him. How that's what brought them here, to the stage. How Ivan changed for Till and Because of Till but still Till is like a god damn immovable object with how he stubbornly sticks to his ways. There's such resentment but isn't he himself also stubborn for always sticking to Till anyways? Hell, he's singing all about him in Round 3 and loses control over his own emotions and expressions during it I'mmm Guhhh

Also the first image is titled Observation while the second one is titled Decision(? I think). Like mf What are you deciding. What happened Last Time you decided to do something I'm going to punt you into the next planet

Speaking of observing,

Just. How Ivan's Always Observing. I saw one person point out he's like a background character and it's like he sees himself as one too. He is a passive observer in his Own Life. How he watches all the other children in Anakt garden play. How his childhood leading him to Anakt Garden just kind of. Happens around him while he watches indifferently.

How he's always trailing behind Till. Or how he tends to just. Observe quietly and is portrayed as such.

Not to mention how he doesn't appear in the memories of Anyone else's rounds, not even Till's, even when he literally (temporarily) freed him from the city. He doesn't even appear At All in Luka's round even though we get a clear shot of Till getting his hopes and dreams shattered (though it Does parallel another shot of him from Round 2)

And then the One Times he tries to take action. Or start something. It gets rejected and he's resigned to just. Trailing behind again. Because of Course he'll always follow after Till. And of Course he's fucking bitter about it and bitter about himself because he Knew this would happen and Till is Always looking at someone else and that Never Changes but. He just thought for a moment that he could change something. Man.

Oh I forgot to talk about the competitions themselves huh? Wellll, (and I'll Attempt to keep it brief because I've been writing this post for Much too long but)

Till spends his first round singing completely devotedly to Mizi. Hell, his song wasn't even in the program, it's likely- no, almost definitely something he wrote entirely for her, and Ivan has no part in it, just watches bitterly as he passes out after his, er, stunt at the end

And continues to be passed out for almost the entirety of Ivan's song

Oh but he woke up for the emotional/musical climax at least, going over Ivan's most important memory of them together, that's cool at least right?! Surely Till felt something from that

Maybe they can talk something out, or at least acknowledge their relationship in Some way. Maybe Ivan could at least be seen by Till-

Aaand Till's Actual love interest Supposedly gets shot and now he probably thinks she's dead. His attention is turned to her once again, like it's always been from the start. He never really changes huh?

Better luck next time Ivan--

Just. This mf Never Wins and it makes me Laugh as much as it makes me So Sad

Gets hopes and dreams and future crushed by aliens (standard stuff). Sold off in an auction. Put in prestigious singing school and up to that point he hasn't really cared about Anything and has simply been going through the motions.

Meets boy that basically embodies the freedom and hope he used to have. Falls badly in love. Boy loves someone else. Tries to free him and give him the thing he'd surely want most. Rejected. Back to school you go loser.

Oh btw this school is to train you for a competition to the death. Btw you're facing off against that boy you love in the semi-finals of said death competition. And you might kill him or he'll kill you. Because you didn't run away when you had the chance.

Also he didn't sing or think about you at all during his round. In fact I'm pretty sure he wrote a whole ass song that wasn't even registered in the Alien Queue or whatever for someone else. Also he probably has hardly looked at you. Also he was unconscious for almost the entirety of your song. Except for the part where you lost control of your emotions.

Oh but that doesn't matter now because now he thinks the person He likes was just killed. So he's kiiinda gonna be distracted by that. And that might fuck up your round with him. Sorry man

This was Originally a rant about how much I love Black Sorrow's imagery and the portrayal of Ivan's love because this man clearly has Complex Emotions and then Kinda derailed into me just ranting about how many L's he's being handed before getting the executioner's blade. Uhhhhh oops. Congrats on sticking to the end though?

I just love Ivan very much. He is So Bitter and so Horribly In Love and looks up to and is inspired by Till So Much and I wish people explored him on a deeper level/more personally.

I wish I saw more deep looks at Ivan/Till, there's clearly Complicated Things going on there. Hell, we don't even know what Till's pov on the whole thing is aside from that One scene of him hesitating before running away from Ivan. As much as I love fluffy interpretations of them, I (did I mention that I'm an angst addict btw. Could You Tell) wish all their Complexities could be acknowledged. Like how Ivan Clearly puts Till on such a spotlight and it is Such a downfall for him through and through and he Kinda knows it but also What Else does he Have and he really looks up to him Sooo Much (just. Look at them in that official art of them in Anakt Garden !!!) and deep down just wants to run away from this horrible place and wants to run with Till, the Light of his life the fire in the darkness the fucking stars the universe his black sorrow just. Oh My God I need to end this post already I was supposed to be studying but spent those 2 hours Writing instead

But anyways yeah uuhhh long story short? This guy is a gay loser. He tries to look sooo cool and smooth but he is suuuch a gay lovestruck loser and his rose tinted glasses are so thick he can't see shit (I'm pretty sure I quoted that from something (but also no genuinely when I first got into alnst after just watching the first 3 rounds videos and saw Ivan in official art I was So Surprised like "Oh he's actually That kind of mf that tries to look Cool and Hot but is actually just Pathetic and Sad and Gay I thought he was Just Sad and Gay")) he's probably also touchstarved as hell idk and his love is doomed by the narrative (unless Hyuna saves his and Till's asses. Buuut we'll see </333)

Love ya Ivan keep taking L's <3333 mwah

[monarch-sparrowhawk]

Jesse hated his father. 

The man had been arrogant, cold, and distant. There was only one thing on that man's mind, and you can bet family never even crossed it. Jesse's pretty sure that he shared a total of three sentences with the man before he... well.

You know how it goes.

His mother had been out of the picture since he was too young to even have a memory of her. Nova mission gone wrong for both of them. In fact, it was mostly his older sister that raised him. But of course Jesse had gone on and screwed that up too-

He stopped, shaking his head. Now was not the time for this. Right now he needed to focus and-

"Jesse Alexander I am going to murder you and-"

Riiiight. Eva was giving birth to their son.

Their son!

Jesse swore that if he ever had a family of his own, he would be nothing like his father. His sister had remarked that their father had made it to neither of their births, so that's where he would start. He had cut it extremely close though, finishing up one last mission with his old squadron that spun out of control.

Not that that was unexpected by any means. 

If he had- (what was that Terran phrase?) a minute for every nickel or something- point was, it happened a lot. But thankfully, Titus managed to save his ass and sent him home. 

Jesse just hoped that his old friend made sure to take care of himself and the rest of the crew as well, there were still an awful lot of Chitauri fighter jets chasing them.

Eva squeezing his hand pulled him out of his wildly derailing thought process. Jesse turned his attention to her, silently admiring the way she managed to look so beautiful despite the ordeal she had gone through earlier. Her brown eyes were his favorite. Until he had arrived on Terra, he had never seen them on a humanoid creature before. 

He hoped their son would have her eyes. A warm inviting brown, unlike the cold unwelcoming blue he had grown up with. 

"Jesse, mi cielo, look at him. Isn't he beautiful?" Eva spoke softly. 

Jesse followed her gaze to the baby sleeping soundly in her arms. He had been crying and screaming when he first came out, but the new father had only gotten a glimpse of him before the hospital staff whisked the infant away to be properly cleaned and such. 

By the time he had come back and was placed into Eva's arms, he calmed down immediately. He figured Eva would be a natural at this whole parenting thing, she didn't have the same kind of family he did. A mother who was still alive and very much involved, and many siblings who he knew would be hanging around for days if not weeks the minute they got home. 

"He sure is, mi reina."

It was the truth. Together, the two of them made one really flarking cute baby. 

"You know, we still haven't picked out a name."

"Hm, I guess we haven't. What did you want to name him?"

Per Xandarian tradition, the mothers were the ones who were blessed with the honor of naming the children. 

"I was thinking of naming him after my father."

Ah. Eva's father died back when she was teenager, and the man's death had a profound effect on the whole family. He was affectionate, kind, and loving. 

Jesse wishes he could have met the man, if only to ask him how in the hell does one be a good dad? Because he honestly doesn't have a clue, and he's so scared of flarking it up.

"You should."

Better than naming him after his own father. Jesse's lucky that his native name seemed to translate pretty seamlessly into Terran culture. He didn't see his father's name adapting well. And he didn't need the daily reminder.

"Then that settles it. Samuel Jesse Alexander."

"Wait, why is my name in there?"

"Well, he's our son. I want him to not only have a piece of my family with him, but of yours as well."

D'ast, he loved this woman so much. He could travel to a million other galaxies and not find another woman like her.

"My family is pretty screwed up, I don't want to pass along the bad luck."

"You won't. You said your father wasn't there for your birth, right? You're here for Sam's, you're already changing things for the better."

He was, wasn't he?

"Do you want to hold him?"

Eva raised her arms a bit, offering their son to him to hold. Jesse suddenly felt himself growing nervous all over again. What if he dropped him? Or squished him too tight? What does he do if he cries?

"I can hear you overthinking from here mi cielo. Don't worry, I'm right here to help you."

And with that, she forcefully pushed Sam into his arms. Jesse let her rearrange his hands into the ways that would be the most comfortable and supportive for the baby. The jostling around had caused the sleeping infant to wake up. He opened his eyes and Jesse froze.

They were blue. Like his own.

Like his father, mother, sister-

"He's got the same beautiful eyes as his papi. I can't wait to look at him everyday and be reminded of how much he takes after the man I love."

Huh. 

And just like that, the blue eyes didn't seem so scary anymore. How does Eva do that?

"I can't wait for the next one to have yours then."

While he was now finding himself pleased with Sam taking after him, that didn't mean he was going to say no to another child with Eva's eyes. One for each of them, it was only fair that way.

"We have only had him for a few hours, and you're already wanting another one?"

"Well, eventually, sure! But you're right, we should probably take it one kid at a time for now."

If he was being honest, he didn't care how many kids they had. Just as long as they were happy, healthy, and grew up in a loving home. 

Jesse slowly paced around the room, letting Eva take a much needed nap while he entertained their son. Sam. He had his papi's eyes, his mother's nose, and Jesse was proud to note that the kid had a pretty tight grip on one of his fingers. 

Sam was going to be a handful, he could tell.

"Hey there Sammy. It's me, your papi. I'm going to be honest, I don't really know how to do this whole dad thing, so cut me some slack. I am going to try my best for you though. I promise."

Jesse wasn't going to be like his father. He wanted to hug and kiss and cuddle his child. He wanted to tell him about his adventures in space as bedtime stories, teach him how to ride a hoverboard(wait Terra doesn't have those, he’d have to find an alternative), comfort him after his first heartbreak... he had a never-ending list of the things he wanted to experience with his son.

Sam snuffled adorably before closing his eyes and going back to sleep in his father's arms. 

Well, he didn't cry. So Jesse was going to count that as a win.

He knew Eva was going to be a good mom. He could only hope he’ll be a good dad.

Kissing the top of his son’s head he sent a prayer that the boy would grow up to be a better person than he ever was.

[theygotlost]

um so heres my general impression of each character at this point. i started writing this last night and then got tired

kendall: watching him say or do literally anything is so embarrassing. i originally didnt care about him much at all but like when he becomes a sopping wet beast crawling darkly in the mud and the trenches. for my amusement. also like i said it feels so weird that he has an ex wife who took the kids in the divorce it feels like an afterthought. that being said i do kind of like when he gets to see his kids and i wish he tried to be a better father. you know cause the show is about family. maybe they will focus more on that later idk.

roman: when i watched the first episode i thought that he might be my favorite but ig not. i am entertained by how much of a jackass he is but idk if i would say i like him. though that might change. for some reason before starting the show i was kind of under the impression that roman was like gay or something? i think i would enjoy his character more if he had some gay sex.

shiv: i say this affectionately cause i like her but girl what is your problem lol!!!! shes so awesome and real though and also ummmm hiiiiiii. forget political strategy SHE should be president. its weird that shes working for a socialist candidate and is super confident that he could be elected president like idk how much of she actually believes but shes mostly just doing it to spite her family.

ok stupidly pedantic sidenote but ive complained about this before where are sibling characters the brother(s) is a brunette and the sister is (in this case strawberry) blond and even though its possible in real life it feels unrealistic. this message brought to you by a brunette who wears jeans and has a brother who is also a brunette.

tom: i dont think i like tom that much but idrk how i feel about him. i do like that hes a wife guy though. i originally couldnt understand why hes so obsessed with fucking with greg. but i think its because the rest of the roy family either ignores him or hates him or treats him like a parasite leeching off of shiv and greg is the only member of the family that tom has any kind of power and influence over and he likes taking advantage of that. i also like to laugh at his pain and misfortune.

greg: awwww the silly! ok watching greg do anything is also really embarassing but in a funny endearing way and he has big scared puppy dog eyes. and HES REAL AS FUCK. he gets it. hes just like me. even the way he talks and everything. he would do numbers on tumblr

connor: i originally forgot to put him on here. so that should tell you how i feel. i understand why nobody ever posts about connor. he sucks so much but in a way that is neither entertaining nor relatable. he sucks in the way that guys you know in real life suck. i hope he dies and goes to hell forever for dating a woman young enough to be his daughter.

ok well. i finished season 1 of of suck session.

[quindolyn]

General Relationship Headcanons || James Potter

Request: “Please can you do a general relationship for james potter? xx” -anon

Word Count: 5,835

Notes: This is kinda slow burn, I’m a little sorry. The ones I did for Remus and Sirius were not canon so this won’t be either which is a little easier because no Jily. These keep on getting longer and longer, but part of that is because Jamie is definitely my favorite marauder.

Warnings: Smut, angst, lots of fluff, dom and sub James, momma’s boy Jamie

Masterlist

You were something special

James had known that since he was 4 years old

It just took him a long time to realize exactly how special you really were

James Potter was an idiot

That would become increasingly apparent to him as he grew up

Your family and the Potters were great friends for as long as any of you could remember, meaning that you and James were practically attached at the hip

And who could blame you? He has such nice hips 

The both of you are heart broken when he leaves for Hogwarts leaving you behind because you wouldn’t start until the following year.

All throughout his first year you guys write back and forth sharing every single detail of your respective days, down to the color of the plate you ate your lunch on

You can’t help but feel envious

There’s your best friend in the entire world, in fucking Scotland

Making new best friends

When the next year rolls around and you get to finally join James on the Hogwarts Express you want to hate Sirius and Remus

You really do

But how can you? They’re Remus and Sirius 

You guys spend the entirety of the train ride laughing and talking and the other two boys tell you embarrassing stories from the year prior about James

When they hear your nicknames for him (Jamsie, Jamie, J), they make fun of him relentlessly

He calls you an assortment of cheesy nicknames too but his favorites, before you guys get together, are “Sweetheart”, “Sunshine”, and “love”

If you get sorted into Gryffindor James screams his head off for you, making room for you to sit next to him at the table in the Great Hall, opposite Sirius and Remus.

If you’re in a different house then James gets sad, really sad, like that night he cries into his pillow and Sirius has to climb into bed with him to give him hugs and tell him that its okay even if the two of you are in different houses. That doesn’t have to affect your friendship if you don’t let it.

The next day James would find you before you got to the Great Hall and engulf you in a hug in the middle of the corridor, not caring that there were people streaming past the two of you in either direction. 

“We’re gonna be friends forever right (Y/N/N)?”

“I hope so Jamie.”

Even though you’re in different classes and potentially different houses you guys are around each other all of the time

You sit with him and the other boys at their place at the Gryffindor table

They sit with you in the library

And by the end of your first year you’re having sleepovers in their dorm

You sleep in James’ bed of course and Remus and Sirius do. Not. hesitate. To mock you relentlessly

“You and your girlfriend getting comfy over there Jamie?”

“Go to hell Siri, let me cuddle James in peace!” 

These jokes continue through your years at Hogwarts and you and James take them in jest

As you guys get older the physical affection you share never dwindles

After someone made a crude comment in the hallway about the two of you he talked to you making sure that you were okay with the arms he would throw over your shoulders, the arms wrapped around you waist, the kisses to your forehead before he left the Great Hall for class, holding you in his arms in the Gryffindor common room as the two of you drifted to sleep.

You assure him that its okay, that its not weird because you guys have been best friends since forever and that you love how affectionate you are with each other

You don’t start to realize you feelings for James until he starts pining after Lily, you don’t know what you have until its gone, right?

Watching him stare at her in the Great Hall

Writing her little notes that even though he’ll go up and ask her out in front of everyone, which you’re not too fond of either, he’s too shy to actually give her

Listening to him go on and on about her, her hair, the cadence of her voice, the beautiful color of her eyes, how intelligent she is, and on and on

Sirius picks up on this instantly

And he does not hesitate to make fun of you for it all the time, obviously not enough for James to pick up on it because he’s a prick not a complete asshole, but still enough to make you blush uncontrollably

You can’t say anything to him though because he’s your James and there’s absolutely no way that he returns your feelings, you’re like a little sister to him

So, much to Sirius’ chagrin, you swallow your feelings and sit there by James, trying to listen to Remus as he tries to explain to you your Charms homework while James watches Lily on the other side of the Common Room laughing with Dorcas and Marlene

And a little piece of your soul dies

The summer between your third and fourth year, his fourth and fifth, you were excited to finally have your Jamsie back to yourself again.

It went without saying that the two of you would alternate between each other’s houses over the summer

There would be no Lily Evans to distract him

No exams to stress over 

Just you and James at the Potter estate, exploring the woods that, in all honesty, didn’t change all that much from summer to summer, and swimming in the bioluminescent pond on the edge of the Potter property, simply floating next to each other on your backs, one of his hands grasping your forearm, making sure you didn’t float too far away from him

But apparently this year it didn’t go without saying.

Instead, a mere month before the end of the term, James regretfully tells you that he and his family are going to Spain for the summer to be with his aunt who lives there and he really wants to take you but its the entire summer and his parents nixed it

“I’m so sorry sunshine, I really want to take you but-”

“It’s okay Jamie, I get it if you could you’d take me, but you can’t so its fine. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

And you can tell that he’s genuinely upset about it but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt any less when you hug him goodbye at King’s Cross knowing that unlike years prior you weren’t going to see him in a few days.

You spend a good chunk of the summer wallowing, not necessarily because your crush isn’t there with you but because your best friend isn’t

James writes you every day just like he did during his first year at Hogwarts but its not the same because you can’t see him

You can’t hold onto his arm when you’re tired and set your head on his shoulder

So when September 1st rolls around and you finally get to see him again you’re down right giddy

But on Platform 9 ¾ you’re looking for a wiry, lanky boy, with a nose a little too big for his face, and a squeaky little voice

Not the 6 foot man who approaches you, with broad shoulders and budding facial hair along his jawline.

“Sunshine!”

Oh holy shit

His voice

He no longer sounds like a dog toy, a very cute dog toy but still

You must admit that you’re a fan of the change, as the word leaves his lips you imagine resting your head on his chest and feeling the vibrations as he spoke with whomever

Its not a single day that you’re back at Hogwarts before James is fawning all over Lily again and you’ve had enough of it

You’re not going to let yourself to keep on pining after a boy who doesn’t love you

Not even doesn’t love you

But loves someone else

Sirius finds you a couple weeks into the school year, sitting with your back against a wall in an empty corridor trying to hold in your tears.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“I-I can’t believe I let myself fall for him. I’m an idiot Si!”

Sirius holds you in that hallway, rocking you back and forth while he murmurs to you that James is the idiot, not you, and that you deserve so much more than him

He helps you concoct a plan to get over James, he pitches to you going out on a date with someone else

Doesn’t have to be anything all that serious, just something to get your mind off James and remind you how hot you are, and how many people are lining up for you to give them so much as a moment of your time.

It doesn’t take too much on Sirius’ part to get you to agree to let him set you up

His name was Sullivan, he was in your year, a year younger than Sirius, with sandy blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes 

Sully, as he insisted you call him, took you for a butter beer at the Three Broomsticks

You had a good time, Sully was smart, and attractive, and you and he shared similar interests 

And all though he was lovely, and he insisted you were too, the both of you agreed that you would be better off as friends

You spent more time with him in the following weeks and less with James, Sirius, and Remus

The latter two were very happy that you were trying to move on because watching you stare at James was a little sad

James is confused, and hurt, and jealous

Though he adamantly refuses to admit that last one

Instead he just watches you. All. Of. The. Time.

To the point where if it wasn’t James it would be disturbing

And even though it is him it gets touch concerning

Sometimes before you go and sit with the Marauders at their spot in the Great Hall you’ll stop by where Sullivan sits with his friends and give him a smile, talk for a few minutes before hugging each other and walking away

It made James’ blood boil

Who did this kid think he was, you were his best friend he didn’t get to just waltz in and take you, or Godric forbid date you

One day you’re sitting outside with the boys when you see Sullivan on the other side of the court yard, excusing yourself you walk up to him and chat for a couple minutes before Sullivan’s face goes pale and there’s a shadow looming over you.

James throws an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side while extending his hand to Sully

“Hi, I’m James, (Y/N/N)’s best friend.”

James is standing there with you guys maybe 2 minutes, being the most passive aggressive petty person he could possibly be, dropping not so subtle hints about his distaste for Sully before he’s tugging you back to the tree where Siri and Remmy still are, their hands resting dangerously close to each other’s 

“What the fuck James!”

He plays dumb because if there’s one thing James Potter is good at its being an idiot, but eventually he relents

“I just don’t like the way he looks at you, it's like he’s trying to get into your pants!”

You start cackling

Borderline manically

“You’ve got to be kidding me James we’re just friends!”

Sirius being the eternally helpful human being he was added in his two cents, “Maybe you’re projecting Potter!”

And the laughing stops

James goes beet red, you feel all the blood drain from your face before collecting yourself and murmuring a quick apology before racing off for the castle 

You and James don’t talk for 2 days

It's the longest either of you have gone without some form of communication

You’re both so embarrased and you don’t want to hear James tell you that he doesn’t actually like you and that it was just Sirius being an asshole

Of course he would say this to make you comfortable but that’s not what it would do

It would crush you

You don’t have classes together so it's easy to ignore him there, and if you’re in separate houses it's even easier

Meals

Now that’s a different story

You can’t just eat somewhere else and the prospect of facing James after what Sirius said has you running for the nearest toilet

So you scrounge up what you can in the kitchen after meals

It kills James that he’s only seen you on the other side of the courtyard or disappearing behind corridors 

You’re supposed to be his Sunshine, he can’t stand that you’re hiding from him, he misses you so much

And at first he’s a little angry when you don’t sit with them at meals, but after scanning the Great Hall, he realizes you’re not there

His stomach drops, have you not been eating?

So dinner the second night he collects a plate for you with all of your favorite things and determinedly sets off for your dorm, balancing a plate in one hand and a glass of pumpkin juice in the other

He has to knock on your door with his foot

“Jamie, what’re you doing here.”

He gently pushes past you letting himself into your room to set the plate and glass on your desk

“You haven’t been eating.”

And despite yourself your heart flutters, because he’s right you haven’t been eating as much as you should’ve not wanting to get caught in the kitchens you only swiped what you could easily get your hands on

But then you have to remember, it's because you’re basically his little sister, not because he reciprocates your feelings

“I’ve missed you Sunshine.”

And you lose it

“Stop! Stop it Jamie I can’t take it anymore, you can’t keep calling me Sunshine and Sweetheart and Love and cuddle with me on the couch and then turn around and declare your undying love for Lily fucking Evans. I can’t do it anymore! I like you, differently than you like me and I can’t do this anymore!”

Poor Jamsie has never felt like more of an absolute asshole

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t revel just a little bit in the look on his face, didn’t feel a little triumph that maybe he felt even a fraction as bad as you did.

He’s an idiot and he realizes it

You’re both very quiet for a minute before he walks up to you so that you’re a mere inch from him before he gulps and leans down to press his lips to yours

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yes you are.”

“But I’m your idiot, right?”

“Always Jamsie.”

It's not as though much changes between the two of you on the surface once you’re together

You’re a bit more touchy feely with each other, kisses usually pressed to foreheads or temples often find themselves brushing at the other’s lips

He holds your hand a lot more freely now and more often than not it will end up clasping your thigh under the table in the Great Hall, or after having pushed your chairs together in the library so they touched

When you curl up together in the Gryffindor common room his hands find their way under your shirt, lightly tracing the skin of your stomach, pressing kisses to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder

His arsenal of nicknames expands impressively

Angel, darling, beautiful, gorgeous, poppet, pretty girl, mine

And he’ll add the occasional my before the word “love”

You already slept over in their dorm room every other night before you and James got together but now it's more of a nightly occurrence

Especially the day before a Quidditch match, James insists that he sleeps with his lucky charm, says you keep him calm

You cheer the hardest for James at his matches, bar maybe Sirius

Even if you’re in a different house you sit with Siri and Remus in the Gryffindor stands and get all decked out in red and gold

Now that you’re his he has no problem with Sullivan, he trusts you and by extension he trusts the people you trust

You’re touched one day, early on into your relationship, when Lily comes up to you in the Great Hall and tells you that you didn’t have to tell James to tell her that he was sorry for being a prick and not taking no for an answer.

You don’t tell her this but you didn’t ask him to do anything

James is just a good person

He also has an abundance of money and little impulse control

He’ll buy you literally anything he sees that reminds him of you, or if he remembers you bringing up that you wanted or needed it

He likes buying you jewelry because you can wear it more often than you could say the same dress or blouse

That’s not to say that he doesn’t buy you clothes too, he has all of your sizes memorized and knows whether you wear normal/petite/tall

James Potter will buy you pads/tampons/whatever product you use

He’s a man not a little boy and he doesn’t give a flying fuck if someone makes fun of him for it

One day Lucius calls him out for it and Jamie is just not having it 

“You have no clue where the clit is or what to do with it do you Malfoy?”

He’s always helped you through your periods so now that you’re together he’s just more liberal with his touch because he knows how much you love it

He knows how to do basic hairstyles and such because he watched his mom when he was a little boy and watch your mom do your hair too

If your hair requires special treatments and hairstyles he will write to your mom, asking for her to teach you because he loves your hair and wants to be able to help you, like imagine sitting in his bed while he puts braids in your hair following the instructions your mom sent him

Speaking of families when he tells Euphemia you two are together (which he does as soon as he leaves your dorm that night) she literally screams

Fleamont was worried that she was being attacked

But the next day at breakfast you get a letter from Euphemia stained with dried tear drops as she poured her heart out to you, telling you how much she loved you and that if her son ever broke your heart you were to go to her immediately and she would deal with him for you 

The year you finally become boyfriend and girlfriend is the year you all become animaguses 

James tries to argue with you, insisting that you shouldn’t do it because it's dangerous and he doesn’t want you getting hurt

Your rebuttal is that isn’t it just as dangerous for him? And if you’re not doing it neither is he and that leaves Sirius which just wouldn’t end well 

He’s so proud of you when you transform for the first time, he gets so distracted watching you that he forgets where he is for a moment

That summer, unlike the one previous, you and James spend all of your time together 

You spend the entirety of the holiday at the Potter estate doing all the things that you and Jamie used to do when you were younger, only this time its better

Instead of being childhood friends you’re each other’s 

You can kiss him, and hold his hand, and he can lift up your hair to kiss the back of your neck

Euphemia lets you guys sleep in the same bed but before that she sits the two of you down and gives you the talk

“Now (Y/N), I don’t know if your parents have ever discussed this with you but if you two are going to be sharing a bed I think it's important we go over it.”

There’s so much blushing and whining from James

“Muuuummmm.”

One night you guys are lying on the floor of his bedroom wearing the absolute bare minimum because it was so hot and humid out when you pitched the idea of going skinny dipping

James is hesitant at first because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

But you insist that you’re fine and point out to him that it was you idea not his

Being the gentleman he is when you strip by the lake he looks away making you laugh

When you turn him to look at you his jaw drops

You’re even more gorgeous than he could’ve ever imagined

It's dark out but the light from the lake allows you to drink in your figure

He blushes so much you’d think that he was the one naked

 When he does strip too he grabs you and jumps into the water, you guys are all over each other, running your hands up and down his chest, his hands are supporting your bum while your legs wrap around his waist

You have sex that night, for the first time, he was very gentle with you and holds your hand when he breaks you hymen and if you cry he kisses away your tears

“Do you wanna stop baby? Does it hurt too much? We can stop.”

James is one of two things depending on your preference

We have soft dom!James and sub!James

I personally appreciate a healthy mix of both 

Starting with soft dom!James, he would be so gentle with you 

Also very firm though, if you broke any of his rules he would not hesitate to punish you

He’s a thigh man through and through

Doesn’t matter if we’re talking dom or sub, the man lives for your thighs

Which makes his favorite form of punishment laying you across his lap to spank you, but most of the time his blows land on more of your thighs than they do your bum

He makes you count as he spanks you too and after every blow you have to thank him

“One! Thank you Daddy!”

And if you ever call him James instead of Daddy during sex he’ll stick his fingers in your mouth and make you choke on them, kissing away the tears that fall from your eyes, “S’okay baby, you’re okay. Can you do this for me? Can you take my fingers like the good girl I know you are?”

He loves taking you up against a wall, especially in the locker rooms after a Quidditch match

Shower sex is one of his favorites, thinks you look absolutely gorgeous, soaking wet and moaning for him, not to mention he get’s to fuck you up against the wall

This is the point in the headcanon where I urge you all to go read the blurbs by @randomoutsiders​ where Remus and Sirius teach James how to brat tame you, she captures his essence perfectly

He loves to blindfold you, he likes the little jump he gets out of you when he touches you

He gives you the most condescending mocking smiles

What comes to mind is the first time he makes you squirt, he’s so proud of both himself and you

“Good girl, look at that, look at how much of a mess you made for me angel. So pretty, good job.”

He then proceeds to lick the mess you just made off of you 

He loves buying you lingerie

He likes it in a deep red and black

Loves ripping it off of you, absolutely adores it 

After care with him would be so soft and sweet, he loves taking baths with you so he can clean you up and kiss all the places he left bruises while he murmurs to you about what a good girl you were and how proud he is of you

One night he tells you that if Godric forbid the two of you ever split up and you’re with someone else that after care is necessary and that you’re precious and deserved to be treated as such 

He treats you like a goddess 

Sub!James is just as precious

He’s also my current obsession so stick with me here

He’s just so eager to please, always wanting to make you feel good and not even caring all that much if he gets off himself

Just so centered around making you feel good

He calls you “Mommy” and I will not be accepting criticism

I feel like “Mistress” is too impersonal if that makes much sense

The former is just so intimate and James wears his heart out on his sleeve 

James is rarely if ever a brat, usually when he’s disappointed in himself and he takes it out on you and you have to remind him how to be a good boy

And the rest of the time when he breaks a rule it's completely on accident and he’ll come to you and tell you about it to apologize

He feels so guilty, like he’s failed you

Especially if he touches himself without your permission, it's almost enough to keep him from doing it but he’s still a horny teenaged boy and can’t help himself sometimes

Most of the time though you’ll end up with a horny James knocking on your dorm door begging you to help him 

He prefers giving you head than you giving him head

That’s not to say that the visual of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth isn’t appealing, it most certainly is 

He just loves that he can make you feel that good with just his tongue

James also loves how you taste, tells you it’s better than candy

Which makes you smile like an idiot

Will finger you under the table in the library if you ask him to, it's not like he was paying that much attention to his homework in the first place, and even if he had been you are without a doubt more important

Loves it when you ride him

Absolutely adores it, he loves the way your tits bounce which is why he prefers cowgirl to reverse cowgirl because he can keep his hands on your tits and on your thighs

He asks you for a cock ring, loves that you get to decide when he gets to cum 

Extra points if its a vibrating one

With his consent of course, you tie him up and make him watch while Sirius and Remus fuck the living day lights out of you, barely paying him any mind while you scream for the cocks of his two best friends 

He likes being tied up in general allowed to look and only look

The first time you peg him he almost cries it feels so good

And you take his sniffling as a sign he doesn’t like it and that he’s hurt, he has to explain to you that that is not it and “You make me feel so good Mommy.”

His whimpers and moans are the most precious things and he’s very vocal

Screaming your name and begging you to cum

He is not shy to beg you 

To cum

To make you cum

To get to so much as look at you

Baby boy has absolutely no shame 

I especially like sub!James because he’s such a cocky asshole 90% of the time but he’s also the kindest, most considerate soul and he spends so much of his life helping others that sometimes he just wants you to be in control

Regardless of sub or dom James you were making out on his couch that summer, your hands in his hair, his fumbling with the clasp on your bra when there was a pounding at his front door

He makes you stay where you are because he doesn’t want you to get hurt but its just Sirius

Well not just Sirius

He was bloodied and broken and looked like he’d been to hell and back

When he told the two of you what happened, how he’d been disowned and had nowhere else to go, while Euphemia tended to his wounds James engulfed him into the biggest hug and they just sit there, Sirius crying into James’ chest while James ran his hands up and down Sirius’ back whispering to him about how it was going to be alright that he was safe, that no one was ever going to hurt him again.

About 2 or so hours after you’d all retired for the night, you and James snuggled together in his bed you awoke when the door to his room creaked open

There was Sirius, with tears streaming down his face, his bottom lip wobbling

After untangling yourself from James you walked over to him, taking his hand in yours and leading him over to the bed

“James, scooch over.”

“Huh?”

“Scooch!”

When he opens his eyes and sees his Sirius standing there, bashfully ducking his head he quickly moves over and you and Sirius settle into the bed with him in the middle

You and James pet his hair hold his hands while you tell him how much the both of you love him and how you’re never going to let anything bad happen to him again

You fall asleep that night with James spooning Sirius from the back and you with your body curled into Sirius’s front, his head resting on your chest

When you go back to Hogwarts you often end up in this position in their dorm room only add Remus into the mix

You’re a year behind all of them at school meaning that when they graduate you’re still stuck their for a whole nother year without any of them

And it nearly kills all of you

You and James most, though you write to each other every day it's still not the same as him actually being there with you

When you get particularly desperate to see him he apparates to Hogsmeade where he becomes Prongs and meets you in the Forbidden Forest where you basically just spend the entire time holding each other and telling the other how much you love them

He cries at your graduation, full on blubbers 

“That’s my girl!”

Insists that you look better in your graduation cap than anyone else

Doesn’t relent when you tell him how ridiculous that is

You guys move in together as soon as you graduate, it’s barely even a discussion because you guys can always tell what the other is thinking

“Hey babe, do you wanna-”

“Yeah Jamie, when you wanna go look at apartments?”

He loves going shopping for your apartment, he has so much fun looking at color swatches and different fabrics

He insists that you guys decorate at least part of the apartment in Gryffindor colors

Wolfstar lives down the street from you guys and you have biweekly coffee dates together at a little coffee shop in between your two houses.

After a year or so you realise that you and James still aren’t married, and you get very self conscious

Does he not want to spend the rest of his life with you?

Does he not love you as much as you love him?

It completely eats you up

And James can tell that something’s up

When he asks you you confess your worries to him and his heart breaks

He never wanted to make you feel like he didn’t love you

Because of course he loved you

You were his everything, you were his Sunshine

After telling you all of this he goes rummaging through his drawers looking for something

That’s how you find him when you wake up to him accidentally dropping something results in a loud bang

“Jamie? Are you okay?”

When you find him he’s standing bashfully, blushing with his head down, his hands holding something behind his back

“James?”

And that’s when he gets down on one knee and pulls the small velvet box from behind his back

“This isn’t how I wanted to do it darling, but I spend every single day  thinking about you, you’re the first thing I think of in the morning and I fall asleep with you in my arms thinking about how much I love you and how I don’t know if I could live my life without you. I’m so sorry if I’ve ever made you feel differently, I can’t believe I was enough of an idiot to ever hurt you, in any way. Even though I most certainly don’t deserve you, would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man alive and marrying me?”

Euphemia plans your wedding with the help of Sirius

They go all out

There may or may not be a life size ice sculpture of you and James per Sirius' request

Married life is absolute bliss for the two of you

You wake up every morning with that ring on your bedside table (do people sleep in their engagement rings and wedding bands? I’m a child of divorce whose parents are both children of divorce, true love is a foreign concept) to remind you of the beautiful man beside you

Both sub and dom James go absolutely wild on your wedding night, he can’t believe your Mrs. Potter, that your his

Its that night that you pregnant

Though you don’t know it for almost 2 months 

James is the best husband 

He carries you everywhere, even when you’re not showing 

And he can because fuck that man is strong

He’ll carry you upstairs at night and down them in the morning and to the sofa 

You can only move by yourself when he’s not looking 

James is really good at puzzles and putting things together so it takes him less than 2 hours to put all the furniture together for the nursery 

Which he insists you paint yellow, the color of sunshine

One of the first things he buys is a little Gryffindor onesie for your baby

When he comes James has him in it all of the time

When you go into labor he’s very calm and collected

Euphemia is there to help the both of you because that’s the person he first called when you had your first contraction 

He holds your hand the entire time, kissing you, and coaching you along, telling you how good you’re doing, how proud he is of you

He cries when he first sees his son, he’s so beautiful 

Even though he’s basically the spitting image of James, Jamie swears that he looks so much like you

Once the doctors and nurses leave the room he climbs into bed beside you, throwing and arm over your shoulder as you cradle your little boy in your arms

“He’s beautiful Jamie.”

“Just like his mother.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts​ @kittykylax

[beepboop358]

wait- did that "leaker" really say Finn and the set hated Noah? cause if she did bro that's good enough reason not to trust this person's "leaks" at all (excluiding the Lenora Hills thing and whatever, that ain't even a leak) cause that is quite the lie, like we can't know how they all really feel about each other cause that's personal but no way Finn (or anyone on set) ever said that, beside the fact that I really don't think he hates Noah - from the way he treats him he looks genuinely affectionate - but still he would not say that publicly are you kidding, so goes with the rest of the set, not to mention that I feel like Noah's genuinely nice, like Daniel Radcliffe kind of genuine, hell he once got cancelled for trying to be respectful, and his energy's so good and free it looks like it affects everyone else, so I really don't think "the set hates Noah" with the amount of appreciation I've seen them give him and him give them. In fact didn't Noah once say one of the closest people he was to on set was Finn? Anyway if this person said that Finn and Noah joked around and got along really well before saying Finn hated him I think that pretty much speaks for itself. Not just about this but about all of this person's super specific "leaks"

I hate how people need to rub off their hate on Will (which is bad enough on its own) on Noah, who's literally an actor (a really good one) that is actually a human living in real life and has actual feelings and is a teenager?? I hate how some people can't tell the difference between an actor and the character they're playing. Say whatever you want about fictional characters but god leave the actors alone (unless they like, turn out to be a really bad person in real life, which I'm sorry Noah did not, and the things he got cancelled for are things every single teenager has done at least once because we make mistakes, specially when we're that young, i've made much stupider mistakes than the ones i've seen him get cancelled for)

I'm sorry I just ranted about people projecting their hate for a character (for whatever reason) onto the actor that plays it, looking for the first tiny detail they can use to cancel them.

Anyway I hope you're having a good day, I love your blog <3

Hi anon!

Yep, this alex person said a bunch of other really mean stuff about Will like that they hoped he died and how annoying Will was, etc and I just learned they said some awful stuff about real people in the fandom too. They are just a flat out bully and a liar.

I totally 100% agree with everything you said here about them projecting their hate onto a character and the actor. And honestly i appreciate this rant, i feel the same way! It was nice to have a reminder there are sane people in the fandom LOL because sometimes it just feels so crazy what people say. It’s ridiculous to see them hate on Will solely because they prefer Mike & El to byler, but to see them hate on Noah just because he plays Will, when none of those accusations about him being hated by Finn or the cast have any merit is just ridiculous and so freaking mean. And like you said, he is a teenager! he doesn’t deserve to be hated on for the character he plays,and Will has never done anything bad to anyone ever!!

also thank you for the sweet comment! ♥️ Hope you’re doing good and thanks for the ask!

[anntoldst0ries]

None shall sleep (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 5 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: ~1.8k, T Summary: In the privacy of the diagnostic's office, Ethan & Noelle reflect on recent changes around them. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None Trope: And there was a bit of Hurt/Comfort

A/N: This chapter reminded me of things that have never been addressed... so this is a story of how things left unsaid all collided in my head. Hope you enjoy.

Also - yes, Ethan Ramsey can sing arias. Is anyone still truly surprised by the fact that this guy can do anything?

There is something mesmerizing about watching the lights of day go out, overpowered by darkness, ablaze with colours - from the depths of blue, through indigo, navy and all the way to pitch-black.

About how, in a sense, it washes away all the bothers and allows you to start anew with the next rise of the almighty sun.

Ethan Ramsey was hoping for this exactly, maybe more than ever, but all the signs showed it wasn’t in the cards for him.

Or at least not today.

He stared into the void, interwoven by occasional human figures passing by through the front lobby. No voices of the day were able to reach him on the 7th floor of his kingdom. Behind the glass wall, he was almost in a different world.

It had been yet another day that brought him more gritted teeth, holding himself back and resigned sighs, than actual satisfaction from helping those who counted on him. All these ‘activities’ were not only annoying but also highly energy-consuming.

Bringing the index and middle fingertips to his pulsating temples, he started to compress and massage them in small circles, trying to soothe the pounding inside his skull. He could hear the blood rushing through the highways of his veins, the sound almost drowning out all external stimuli.

But there were certain sounds his expert ear was trained on, the ones he would’ve recognized even in his sleep.

Like the one reaching his ears right now, the sound of the door handle being pressed.

With his back facing the door, he couldn’t see who was trying to impose on his much-needed solitude. But since the unexpected guest did not precede their ministrations by knocking, the possibilities narrowed down significantly. There were only two people on the premises of Edenbrook who could invade his personal space without a modicum of manners.

“Can I help you?” He modulated his voice to ensure the tone was expressing two things: annoyance and irony in the otherwise polite question.

“I’m sorry.” From all the voices, this one he did not expect to hear now. A melodic tone was joined by a scuffle of retreating steps. “Do you want me to go?”

Ethan curled his lips in a tiny smile. They both knew she wasn’t apologetic and that he wanted anything but her to leave.

“No, it’s just that there are only two people in this hospital that wouldn’t bother knocking and I thought it was one of them paying me a visit.”

“Let me guess… Zaid and Baz?”

“No, but in terms of concept, you were actually close…just another type of evil ‘twins’."

“Oh, you mean his majesty King Bloom & his annoyance Dr Carrick?”

“Even as a joke, it sounds creepy and horrible.”

“Well, count me as a third now. Heads up though, I will only stop knocking after twilight.”

It was clear as crystal Ethan’s already specific sense of humor had less than ever space for amusement.

“I brought you this.” She put a brown paper bag on his desk, which immediately revealed the aroma of something delicious. “I figured you’re probably gonna stay here all night, so I thought I’ll pop over and check on you.”

He didn’t say anything, staring into the darkness. Not because he didn’t want to - he simply didn’t know what. This simple gesture was very touching and filled him with gratitude. But he was lacking the right words.

Then, for the first time since she’s interrupted his train of thought, he turned around to look at her. Tired and with puffy eyes, she’d still put everyone else to shame. Even on the worst of days, the light radiating from her turned heads and made the room brighter.

She extended a hand and when their fingers touched, he felt this weird, tingly feeling that has traveled from his palm, through his arm and neck, and then straight to his core.

Pressing him gently against the edge of the desk, she took his glasses off. Then loosened his tie and nonchalantly disheveled his hair. Ethan wouldn’t let anyone else in the world touch them, let alone put them in a state of such disarray.

With her, all the rules existed only to be broken.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on in this big brain of yours?”

“Smart move, Valentine. You’ve pacified me so that now I will have no choice but to tell you whatever you want to know.”

“You always have a choice, let’s just hope you’re gonna make the right one.”

Ethan nodded, no sound escaping his lips. She knew she’d have to take it upon herself to get any information out of her stubborn converser.

“So, how are you holding up? I want an honest answer."

“I’ve been better.”

“I thought so.”

“It’s just that… Tobias is driving me crazy. His presence really tests my patience… I don’t know if I would’ve stopped myself from punching him had it not been for you.”

“Why thank you, I didn’t know my therapeutic services were that good.”

“They are.” Ethan cleared his throat. “But it’s… not just that.”

Dead silence lingered between them and he knew he had no other choice but to continue.

“The only reason why I haven’t wiped this ridiculous smirk off his face yet is that whenever I look at him, I… I see you in that room with Travis. I’m trying to remind myself that, as much as I hate to admit it, he was crucial to finding the cure on such short notice.”

“Ethan…”

“I already told you” - he interrupted her as if not to stop the words from flowing, afraid they may be trapped forever otherwise - “that there was so much more at stake last time Tobias set foot in Edenbrook.”

She took a deep breath, her eyes going slightly wider.

“The truth is, for me… everything was at stake. I would’ve done anything he’d asked me to, I’d have forgiven him if it meant saving you.”

Elle turned still, all her body movements, her breathing and even her blinking ceased.

It was one of those moments that mean so much but leave you with so little to say.

Using the power of non-verbal communication and their deep affinity, she bestowed on him the most gentle, loving and grateful expression her face could muster after yet another exhausting shift.

Ethan extended his arm and before she realized it, her back was gently pressed to the older doctor’s chest. Having wrapped her slender frame with his broad shoulders, Elle inhaled his familiar aroma. He smelled of comfort and felt like a safe harbor. He nudged her hair with his nose and placed a featherlight kiss on the crook of her neck. She smelled of calmness and felt like coming back home from a long journey.

“So,” - he murmured directly into her ear - “whether you like it or not, I am using you to soften the blow every time I look at Tobias’ face.”

“I think I can live with that.”

“But I can’t guarantee it will always be enough, he is a cocky son of a bitch.”

“Let's make a deal then. I see how much it costs you and I’m not telling you to trust Leland or forgive Tobias, I still believe you should be cautious. Let’s just wait and see where this goes, I think we’ll know sooner rather than later. In the meantime, we should focus on what matters the most, our patients.”

“Where is the deal part?”

“If it turns out you were right, I will hold Tobias and you will punch him. Deal?”

“I believe it should be the other way round. Declan Nash’s face told me your right hook is exquisite, Rookie.”

They both laughed at the memory which seemed so distant now, almost as if it's happened in another lifetime.

But Ethan went quiet again and she felt his body tense up, his arms tightening gently around her. It wasn’t very obvious, but she knew. It still came as a shock how well she actually knew him.

“Ethan? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“Ethan.”

“I’m sorry, I am not the most cheery companion today. You’re probably better off not spending too much time with me before you turn into a cynic.”

“Dr Ramsey, what a pathetic attempt of trying to get rid of me. You’ve never been the most cheerful type and I’ve survived your gloomy companionship, hell, I think it grew on me over time. So I should be ok today, too.”

It looked like silence was very much their third companion today.

“I’m thinking about Francis.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I’m thinking about how hard it would be not to see. So many beautiful things, colors, all turning into nothingness.”

“I take it you mean the opera?”

“That too, but let’s just say I’ve learned to appreciate things that are right in front of my nose… literally and figuratively.”

The butterflies started somersaulting in her stomach.

“I didn’t want to add more to your plate at the time, but I’ve already felt this way… when we diagnosed Caroline and Leland.”

It was funny that, despite his obvious animosity towards Bloom, whenever his wife was in the picture, he spoke about both in an almost affectionate way. His doctor’s instincts were kicking in, because first and foremost he was a doctor who had his patients’ best interest at heart.

“The thought of not being able to touch you…it reminded me of touching you through the layer of hazmat suit. And now with everything Francis has been through, I just can’t be bothered to think about anything else but you. This is my true personal connection to this case.”

It was her turn to be speechless.

Ethan tightened his grip over her once again, this time protectively rather than out of stress. Slow hum started filling the air, the melody soon joined by lyrics, which he sang in fluent Italian; a private concert, performed for her and her only.

Tu pure, oh Principessa

Nella tua fredda stanza

Guardi le stelle

Che tremano d'amore

E di speranza**

She remembered their patient’s face, which seemed calmer once Ethan started singing the aria before the depths of illness contorted it with pain.

Francis' husband's words echoed throughout her head.

Even though the man holding her in his arms didn’t say it, there was no need.

She knew.

He will always be here.

And she will always be here, too.

-----

** Lyrics - aria "Nessun Dorma" (‘None shall sleep’) from the opera "Turandot".

Translation:

Even you, oh Princess,

In your cold room,

Watch the stars,

That tremble with love

And with hope.

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[thecowardwrites]

Touch Starved [Suga, Oikawa, Bokuto x Reader]

Originally requested by @0hakaashi:

Sorry to tag you in this again, just transferring stuff over from my old account! Hope you still like it

| Haikyuu Masterlist | Ao3 | Discord Server | Support Me | 

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Suga:

Suga was your first boyfriend – at least your first real boyfriend.

You were very new to this whole being-affectionate-to-one-another thing that couples do.

On top of that, you said physical affection made you uncomfortable so Suga respected that and tried to show you he cared in different ways.

Like carrying your schoolbag in the hallway, making sure he brought sweets to school for you to have during lunch, he let you borrow his jacket whenever you looked cold, he made sure you got the best seat in the house if you went to the movies, he would buy you tacky (but cute) gifts whenever he went somewhere cool for volleyball – he did everything he could think of to show you he cared without the risk of making you uncomfortable.

One night, the two of you had decided on staying in to watch a horror movie and eat junk food.

Suga and you were leaning on each other (shoulder to shoulder) when he stretched and put his arm on the back of the couch behind you.

It wasn’t a big deal. Until a scene made you both jump, and he instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to him.

At first, you both didn’t realize what happened until he started stroking your arm in an attempt to soothe you both from the absolute terror you had just endured.

That’s when your heart rate quickened once again, and you glanced up at him. Only to see that he was already gazing down at you, eyes wide.

When you didn’t react, he started to pull away mumbling apologies.

You basically yelled, “HUG ME!” as his arm was removed from around you.

He has never reacted to something so fast ~ Suga pulled you close to him once more (movie completely forgotten) and you laid a head on his chest.

You could hear your heartbeat, and although it would’ve been cute to say it was soft and soothing, his heart was beating just as hard as yours.

He began to stroke your hair as you snuggled yourself deeper into his embrace. He would occasionally lean down and press a kiss to your crown and you relished in the touch.

You faded into the comfort and didn’t notice that Suga was whispering to you, asking if you were okay. That’s when you realized you had started laughing.

“Are you okay?”

“Yea it’s just – It’s just that I… I really like being held apparently.”

Oikawa:

You had been dating Oikawa for a month now.

A month of you telling him that you hated being touched, cuddled, snuggled with – any of that.

A month of you still snuggling into him at night whenever you slept over. He never said anything though.

In your sleep, you would scooch over to him, wrap your arms around him in a death grip, and cling to him like a koala bear. That first time you did it, it scared the absolute shit out of him.

You told him you didn’t cuddle, so he didn’t expect to be grabbed onto in the middle of the night. When he finally realized what was happening, he had to stifle his laughter so that he wouldn’t wake you up.

He tried to tell you after that night, but you refused to believe him.

“You’re just making stuff up now, Oikawa.” You said, ignoring him and going back to getting ready.

So, he never said anything about it again.

He just tried to appreciate those moments when he did get to hold you – he was a snuggler after all.

One night, he had devised this plan to wake you up while you had wrapped yourself around him so that you could see what he was talking about that first night.

He waited until you had moved to the same position you had taken every night prior and gently stroked your cheek.

He softly called your name as he did this, and (it took a little while) but you were finally drawn from your sleeping state.

“What the hell do you want, Oikawa?” You mumbled into his shirt.

“Just look around, love.”

You adjusted your position, propping yourself up on an elbow, and ended up elbowing him in the abdomen.

He grunted, wanting to curl up in a ball, but he couldn’t because you were pretty much directly on top of him.

That’s when your sleep-ridden brain started to realize what was happening.

You started apologizing profusely, but he just laughed it off.

“This is why I tell you I don’t like being touched it just ends badly!”

“You basically crawl all over me in your sleep, though!” He retorted watching as you sat up by him. “You can’t blame me for you being a natural snugglebug in denial.”

You rolled your eyes at him, getting ready to scoot back to your side of the bed, when you shivered from the lack of heat from being held.

“Can I-“ Your voice was quiet and meek; Oikawa just nodded, opening his arms up to you.

You laid down, resting your head in the crook of his neck. His hair tickled your nose and the smell of the body wash he used flooded your senses.

Y/n.exe has stopped working

You didn’t really know how to react at first, your body was stiff as you hugged him. Your body shook with his as he laughed and let you figure out whether you wanted to stay like that or go back to your side of the bed.

It was kind of uncomfortable at first, but the longer you laid there, the more it felt right.

You face flushed when Oikawa’s arms rested on your back (since he figured you wanted to stay) and his cheek rested on the top of your head. Your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute, and you had a hard time calming down.

It felt so nice, it was so warm, so weirdly intimate. You couldn’t believe you had refused to accept this feeling for months.

Bokuto: Written by @hurtbycanonthoughts 

So right off the bat, Bokuto is fairly affectionate when it comes to people he cares about

You’re aware of that but he never really seemed to do much besides just giving you a quick kiss on the cheek which not only confused you, but it seemed to confuse Akaashi as well

It’s not that Bokuto didn’t want to do anything, he was just worried about making you uncomfortable since he can be a tad much at times

You have to reassure him that it’s ok and that you’d actually like the affection but he’s still nervous

Eventually he doesn’t necessarily care and just wants to hug you

It was right before practice, you both were talking, waiting for the rest of Fukurodani’s team to show up when he decided that he wanted to give you affection

Right before Akaashi got there he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck

You almost died on the spot because not only was he being cute, but you were touch starved and the affection he had given you felt so nice

He went to pull away and you made a noise, not wanting him to let go of you yet which if I’m being honest, kind of shocked him

You two stood in the middle of the gym, holding onto each other whenever the team got there and they definitely weren't about to pass on the opportunity to tease their captain

Though most of the things they said about you two he agreed with and the team really didn’t know how to react to you both still hugging when practice was going to start at any moment

Akaashi ended up having to pull you two apart because you didn’t want to let go since it was the first (of many to come) time he’s ever hugged you and been affectionate and you were way too comfortable in his arms

After practice Bokuto ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your cheek. That was just enough touch that made you melt into his arms. Not that either of you were complaining though

You eventually told Bokuto you were actually pretty touch starved because he never really noticed. He just thought you really enjoyed his hugs and affection. He does get more touchy as time goes on and eventually almost always has a hand on you or at least holding your hand

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 4: Anxceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 4: There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been.

Content warning: parental death from heart attack (none of the sides), homophobia, religious themes regarding said homophobia, concert, minor sensory overload (Virgil is technically autistic but it’s not explicit).

Word count: 3.3k

The last thing Janus Natter had ever wanted to do was return to his hometown. 

It only held bad memories that stemmed from living in a small town, of homophobia and school bullies and dirty looks from neighbours. Granted, he’d never actually been kicked out of his home after coming out, but word spread like a wildfire and the people in his neighborhood weren’t the most open minded. His mom didn’t talk to him; she blamed herself, and there were all too many nights he walked past her room and heard her praying and crying for the repentance of her baby boy.

So the moment he turned eighteen, he was out of there. Waved goodbye to the woman who stiffened every time he tried to hug her and moved halfway across the country, starting a new life for himself in a rundown apartment and a minimum wage intern job and not regretting it for a second. Everything seemed better for a while. A promotion followed a couple years after, and his apartment was upgraded to one that actually had a separate kitchen and dining room so he wasn’t eating on the counter anymore. Until he got a call from one of his aunts at three am, four days after Christmas.

Obviously, he cried when his mom died. He broke down as soon as he hung up the phone, sitting on the edge of his bed and letting the news slowly integrate into his system. Sure, they hadn’t had the best relationship, but she’d been a great mom up until he admitted the truth that drove a wedge between them. And he’d never really blamed her, knowing his own internal homophobia would only be heightened in her. But it still hurt that she hadn’t reached out whatsoever when she was put into the hospital after the first heart attack. Maybe he would have been there when the second one hit and been able to save her. Or at least say goodbye.

The funeral was rough. None of his family bothered to talk to him, and the one little cousin that ran up to give him a hug was swiftly pulled away. Not like he was expecting much else, but c’mon. It’s not infectious. At least no one commented on him crying again. 

He was on the first flight back out, and after a couple days off work to recenter himself, things seemed to back to normal. It wasn’t as if any part of his daily routine was disturbed. He wasn’t missing any motherly catch up calls, no little packages, no life advice, that he’d never gotten before, so it was almost easy to pretend that nothing had changed. Until he got another call. 

This time it was his uncle, calling in the middle of his work day, to tell him that he needed to come back home and clear out his mom’s house. He was reluctant at first. Why couldn’t someone else do it? What was so important that he had to do it? But the family seemed determined to distance themselves from the house as much as possible, and when his uncle insisted that “we’re all still in mourning, Janus,” as if to imply he wasn’t upset at the death of his own mother, he hung up the phone with a curt agreement to come back as soon as possible. He later got a text that stated the house was going to be put on the market in the coming week, so he needed to get there soon. 

That’s what led to him exiting a cab three days later in front of his childhood home, suitcase in hand, with a disgruntled expression. The house was much less threatening than it had always seemed when he lived there, unassuming and indistinguishable from the other houses on the block, but the memories of lonely nights of crying himself to sleep and craving a hug from his mother were at the forefront of his mind. You’re never going to get another hug from her. He quickly snapped out of it before the tears could rise, thanking the cab driver and walking up to the front door. 

His mother had taken his key when he left, claiming it was to give to a neighbour to water her flowers when she went on a cruise or something equally far fetched, but Janus figured she just wouldn’t want to be surprised by him visiting. This was, afterall, the first time she’d been free from his disappointing presence in years. Luckily, they’d always kept a spare under the plant by the door, now wilted and crusty and dropping leaves when he leaned it over, hand slapping the concrete underneath.

Nothing.

He picked it up off the ground entirely, sweeping the ground directly under it and then scanning the surrounding area with growing irritation. Had someone taken it after the funeral? How the hell did they expect him to get into the house? Oh yeah, come clean the house but we’re gonna take the key! Fuckers. 

A loud crash from behind the door startled him enough to drop the plant, the ceramic pot smashing on the stairs. Whoops. Another sound from inside, something that sounded like a chair scraping on the tiled kitchen floor, and Janus realized with mounting horror that the front door was open a crack. His family had all claimed to not be able to even come near the place, so… Fantastic. Someone had broken into a death house and he was going to have to deal with it. 

The wise choice would have been to call the police. 

So Janus pushed the door open and walked in, ignoring the sudden flurry of memories in favor of following the source of the noise. 

“Hello?” Yeah, smart, Janus, that always works in the horror movies!

Another scrape in the steadily approaching kitchen, accompanied by muffled swearing. As an almost last thought, Janus picked up the first small object he could feel on the entry table, acknowledging its heft and hoping it would be a suitable weapon without taking his eyes from the hall. Here goes nothing.

Then, in a move to top all stupidity, he turned into the room in a whirl, hoisting the weapon above his head, ready to beat down on whoever was rifling through his dead mother’s drawers. Only to freeze.

“Remus?”

“Janus, what the fuck!” The statement was said with a surprising amount of glee. Remus was the only person he knew who could turn swears into something joyful. 

Janus turned his gaze to the floor and the chair Remus was standing on, surrounded by a pile of glass shards. It looked to be the remnants of the entire glass collection, if the amount was anything to go by. Remus gave another shuffle of his chair, the loud shriek sounding again, as he tried to scooch closer without stepping on the shards in his bare feet.

“Why are you holding a banana?” 

It took him a solid second to process Remus’ question before he looked down at his own hand, his fingers curled around the metal banana from the decorative fruit bowl in the entry. 

“No reason. Why are you in my house, destroying my dinnerware?”

“Help me not step in glass and I’ll tell you.”

Finding a broom was easy; it was still in the same place it always had been before he left. Cleaning the glass took longer, what with Remus’ flurry of questions and Janus’ focus between answering him, sweeping, and not whacking Remus on the head with the broom handle. Apparently it didn’t take long for him to become annoying again.

Still, the grinning man had been the one and only reason he’d had trouble saying goodbye to the town, the only person who still gladly befriended him after coming out. He hated to admit how much he’d missed him.   

When the floor was clear, Remus hesitantly stepped down off the chair, wiggling his toes on the ground.

“Why did you take your shoes off when you came in? It’s not like anyone’s gonna be pissed if you track mud in anymore.”

“I didn’t wear any.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

Remus shared a softer look with him, the manic smile drooping, “Hey, I’m sorry about your mom. That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” Was Janus’ incredibly eloquent response. He shook his head, and Remus accepted the subject change with no questions, “So why are you here?”

“Well, I heard you were coming to clear the place out eventually, so I thought I’d get here early and start. Help you out.”

“And…”

“... And snoop around a little bit.”

“There it is.”

“Not like, bad stuff! Just… I don’t know. Deep, dark, family secrets.”

Janus sighed, taking in the kitchen for the first time since entering. “The biggest secret this family tries to hide is me.”

“Dark.”

“Mmhm.” He gasped as two arms suddenly wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him into the most physical contact he’d had in… years.

“Welcome back, Natter.”

“Yeah, well,” He cleared his throat of voice cracks before continuing, “I only got two days off work. So I’m not staying long. I somehow need to completely clear this place out in 48 hours,” He ran a hand down his face, pulling away from the hug reluctantly, “You wouldn’t actually be interested in helping, would you?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Remus ignored it completely. “You’re only here two days? Inconceivable!”

“You’ve been watching Princess Bride again.”

“We gotta hang out!” The pleading expression on Remus’ face was almost enough to sell him on the idea.

“Weren’t you listening? I literally don’t have the time.”

“I’m going to a concert tonight in Brookton. Come with me!” Remus continued as if he hadn’t spoken, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Just one night, Jan. Pleeeease? I’ll even come here and help you the rest of the time.”

With an affectionate snort, he shook his head, “As fun as that sounds, I’m broke.”

“I can get you in.”

“You’re not paying for me.”

“Who said anything about paying?”

Janus raised an eyebrow, though it was more like how a parent would scold a child than surprise. They’d always gotten into trouble together as kids, and this was just… a level up, in a way. Not that he condoned it.

“I know one of the security guards. He’s one of my hookups, and he happens to owe me a favor or two.”

  Wait. “You’re gay?”

“Shit, I didn’t tell you?!” Remus shrieked, grabbing Janus’ hand and dragging him to the front door, key waving in his face, “I’ll tell you all about it on the way. C’mon, it’s an hour drive.”

Well, looks like he didn’t have a say in it. And he’d be lying if he claimed he hadn’t missed hanging out with his old best friend… or just a friend at all, really.

“Fine, but you’re stopping by your place to grab shoes!”

-----------------------------------------------------

It wasn’t a small venue by any means. It wasn’t Beyonce big, but enough to know that if he lost track of Remus, he’d be fucked. In his rush out the door so soon after a morning of traveling, he’d forgotten his charger and his phone was conveniently dead. Janus kept a careful eye on Remus, following the bob of his neon green and black jacket through the crowd and only distantly wondering what band they were actually about to see. The gremlin kept pushing through, ignoring the annoyed shouts of people he shoved, leaving Janus to hastily apologize each time as he followed in his wake.

When Remus slowed just for a moment, stretching on his tiptoes to find a good spot over the sea of heads, Janus lunged forward and grabbed his sleeve. The taller man raised an eyebrow.

“As fun as it would be to get lost, I’m not in the mood.”

“Ah,” Remus’ eyes settled on a spot near the stage, one that Janus couldn’t see being a head shorter than him, “Good timing. Hang on tight.”

And hang on he did, because Remus fully embodied the physicality of a snow plow and plunged back into the crowd with new ferocity. Janus just closed his eyes and blindly let himself be led, letting the bubbling breathiness of a laugh escape his mouth. It had been too long since he’d just been able to have fun like this, without the threat of work and bills in his peripheral. The chatter was deafening in the best way possible, drowning out his worried thoughts, and the flashing lights that were still visible through his closed eyelids was invigorating. The promise for more elated him. 

When Remus finally stopped, Janus didn’t get the memo on time and ran into his back full force. He grunted and opened his eyes, focused on his throbbing nose, before realizing how close to the stage they really were. The taller man was staring down at him, grinning maniacally, seemingly impressed with their placement as well. 

Then a flash to the side caught his attention, and his throat went dry.

“Remus, look me in the eye and tell me you see that.”

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion before he followed Janus’ line of sight, seeing nothing but the dense crowd. “See what?”

“The light, the light trail…” Janus inhaled sharply through his nose, grip on the other’s sleeve tightening, “It’s my soulmate. He’s here somewhere.”

“Your soulmate? Seriously?”

“Yeah, I…”

“Well, fuck! You’re welcome, eh, Natter? I told you you should have come!” He gave Janus’ arm a light punch, smile widening. “Go find him!”

Janus seemed hesitant, eyes flickering between Remus and the deep purple light trail, weaving between the people and heading towards the back of the venue. “How will I find you again after?”

“That’s a problem for future you. Go, you idiot!”

“Okay, okay! I’m going! Just don’t leave without me!”

He was off before he could hear Remus’ answer, ducking under raised arms and trying his hardest to follow the quickly dissolving trail. Now that he had his eye on it, it had decided that it was time to disappear, and he was quickly losing sight of it. 

No, scratch that, it was definitely getting brighter now. And more concrete around the edges, instead of fading out. Was he close? He weaved past another small group of people, eyes following the purple line until-

There.

Holy shit.

He was stunning, that was the first thing Janus noticed. The purple trail stopped at him, covering him with a faint lilac aura before fading completely, content with it’s work. At first he thought the slight tint to the other’s hair was left over from the soulmark, before the lights switched and he realized, no, his hair was dyed purple. The most eye catching thing, though, besides his makeup, was the bulky pair of… were those headphones on his ears? At a concert? Granted, it hadn’t started yet, but still.

Apparently he was standing in one place for too long amongst the constantly moving hoard of people, and his stillness got the attention of the boy in front of him. He gasped sharply when they made eye contact, shocked from what Janus assumed to be the soulmark that probably surrounded him. And then he started hyperventilating. Bad.

“Shit! Okay, hey, calm down, okay? It’s fine-”

He was cut off by a loud riff of an electric guitar, almost immediately drowned out by the screaming fans that surged forward like a tidal wave. The boy in front of him curled in on himself, hands pressing into the headphones around his ears in an attempt to drown out the noise. Despite his more cautionary side, Janus reached forward and took his arm, guiding him gently towards the door.

“Let’s go outside and talk, alright?”

Maybe following a stranger outside alone wasn’t the smartest idea but… Virgil had seen the soul mark, a gentle yellow glow around this man that quickly dissipated, leaving behind a man sharing an equally shocked look on his face. So that had to mean he wasn’t totally bad, right? Either he was his soulmate or some kind of guardian angel, and neither of those were necessarily bad options. 

As soon as they stepped outside the main arena, it was as if the tight band around Virgil’s chest loosened. Not gone completely, but enough that he could catch his breath. He reached up and pulled his ear defenders off his head, relieved that the quiet was enough that he didn’t need them anymore. They were definitely a life saver, but sometimes the way they muffled noise was indescribably uncomfortable as well.

The man noticed his immediate relief, letting go of his guiding arm and slowing his pace so Virgil could walk beside him. 

“I’m Janus.” 

“Virgil.”

In a blur, they ended up outside the venue, sitting on the curb directly outside the main doors. Virgil was fiddling with his ear muffs, eyes trained on the inky darkness surrounding them. Besides the dull resounding of the bass echoing from inside and steady stream of traffic just out of their view, it was reasonably quiet.

“So, you live in Brookton?” Janus finally broke the comfortable silence, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah. Not for long, though.”

“Oh?”

“Planning to get out soon. Don’t know where, don’t know how. But I’m not much of a ‘small town’ guy.”

“Brookton counts as a small town?”

Virgil hummed, finally placing the head gear down beside him and closing his eyes, breathing in the smell of fast food from the variety of food trucks around the area. It was a strange cacophony of oil and salt, oddly enticing even if just the scent was enough for his skin to break out. 

“What about you? From around here?”

“Sort of?” He explained his story in as few words as possible, flying over his mom’s general unacceptance and her death, and the fact that he had to clean out her house in two days. “Less than that now, I guess. One and a half. It’s gonna be hell.” His head fell into his hands, fingers rubbing at the temples as if to soothe the headache he was expecting.

Virgil was a good listener, nodding along to the right parts and avoiding those stupid sympathetic looks he was so tired of. It was a nice relief to actually feel listened to, not pitied. 

“My parents are kind of similar. It doesn’t feel like I have much to complain about, though, because… I mean, they didn’t kick me out. Don’t openly hate on me. But it still sucks. They don’t even acknowledge me half the time.”

“Exactly! And then you see people who have it worse, and it makes you feel like a piece of shit for feeling upset!”

“Good match, universe.” Virgil flopped onto his back, purple hair splayed out on the concrete. “It’s the subtle homophobia for me.”

“Ah, you’re a ‘meme person’.”

“Sucks for you, you’re stuck with me now.”

“I’ll manage,” Janus joined him on the ground, suddenly disgusted that he was still in the same outfit that he’d flown in today. He hated the smell of plane, and he must reek of it. But Virgil didn’t seem to mind his general disheveled appearance as he made an abstract comment about the moon being full today, and how that generally meant bad things. Janus made the mistake of asking him what he meant, which turned into a full blown lecture on mythology and cryptids, one that Virgil didn’t have the capability to control. It made him smile though, seeing the emo so utterly delighted to explain it, and he realized with a start that he was going to get to enjoy this man for the rest of his life. Two people who could talk, matched with a person who loved to listen equally as much. Virgil had been right. Good match, universe.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Hey so I really loved the super affectionate s/o if it’s not too much to ask could I possibly request the super affectionate and badass s/o for Pt4 Josuke, Pt3 Jotaro and ...Pt3 DIO !

Y E S 

P L E A S E

I LOVE THEM ALL

Also, tbf, I’m more of a Pt1 Dio fan, but I really hope I’m gonna do Pt3 Dio the justice he deserves

---

HIGASHIKATA JOSUKE

If you wanted affection, Josuke’s the perfect guy for you.

He’s the biggest cuddle bug there is.

You want a hug? He will give you 10. No, make that 20.

You want a kiss? Prepare for a thousand little kisses everywhere on your face, from your cheeks, to your forehead, your nose, and in the end, your lips.

You want to cuddle? He will leave even his video games just for the chance of hugging you close to his chest, snuggling to each other, giggling and just relaxing together.

He would be so proud to flaunt your relationship in front of everyone, which will make Okuyasu cry since he’s forever alone, and Yukako would glare in anger, since her and Koichi are the best (not).

He would love to carry you on his shoulders or give you piggy back rides, go to festivals, concerts and trips, hell, he’d even go shopping with you, carrying your bags and all that, just to spend time with you.

When it comes to fighting, he would be S H O O K when he sees how badass you are.

His kokoro goes doki doki.

Like, damn, you so cool, marry him.

Josuke will look at you with that crying anime expression and say “I’m so proud of my baby”

---

KUJO JOTARO

Jotaro, Jotaro, Jotaro.

He is on the exact opposite spectrum as Josuke.

He’s THE least affectionate person out there and won’t want any PDA.

It would take him quite a while to ease up to your touch and your affections, but he will ask you to keep everything in private.

That’s how you are, he fell for you, it’s his fault, not yours, so he’s not going to stop you, no matter how irked he can get sometimes when you randomly jump-hug him like a baby koala.

On another note, it’s not like he HATES all the love and attention you give him, on the contrary rather, he really enjoys it, but don’t expect him to be vocal about him.

But it would be the way he leans into your touch, the way he doesn’t flinch or stiffen up, the way he instinctively puts his arms around you, the way he makes sure you’re always okay, that you ate, slept, and nothing is bothering you.

It’s not very often, but he would kiss your forehead or the top of your head as a way to thank you, and that’s the ultimate way for him to show you that he appreciates and loves you.

On another hand, when it comes to fighting, Jotaro will always step forward, shielding you from any harm, violence and fight, since honestly, he’s hostile and aggressive enough as he is, you don’t have to witness more shit.

He then sees you completely pulverising the enemy and he just - 

Stares.

And tips his hat.

“Yare Yare Daze, what a bothersome woman...I will never understand you...” he would say to himself, all while actually smirking in pride at his beloved.

----DIO BRANDO

K O N O - D I O - D A !

Dio doesn’t necessarily like or dislike affection, but you are his, so he doesn’t really care what you do.

Since he spends most of his time alone, either scheming strategies or reading, he wouldn’t mind you sitting on his lap, hugging him, kissing his cheeks or clinging onto him, as long as it doesn’t bother him from the activity at hand.

Don’t ruin his reputation in front of his slaves though-

While yes, everyone knows you are his beloved, he wouldn’t want anyone to think that you can just do as you please, because HE is in control.

Dio isn’t usually in a soft mood, so he would be a bit rough with you, both from how he had to raise himself to become, and because of his passive vampiric power, that’s a bit too much for a frail human like you, so his kisses would be intense and lustful, his grabs would be tight, pulling you flushed into him, and could potentially lead to even more.

When he is in a soft mood, however, he would appreciate the pampering you get him and would allow himself to indulge in the warmth and love you radiate while you cuddle with him on the bed, hugging his head into your chest, soothingly stroking his hair, cooing at him to calm him down and helping him forget his worries, occasionally planting soft kisses on the top of his head or his hands.

When he is attacked, you getting killed in the crossfire would be one of his biggest fears and would immediately rush to your side - 

Only to find out you already beat them senselessly and you barely had any scratch on you.

He would only laugh condescendingly and would lift you up, kissing you with more love, passion, lust, fire - Emotion in general - Then he ever expressed emotions in his whole life, including his time as a human.

He’s incredibly proud of you and now, more than ever, he find you worthy of being his paramour.

[hermannsthumb]

Prompt: Newt has never seen the appeal of threesomes, frankly. They seem like more trouble than they're worth. But now there's two Hermanns standing in front of him, and his first thought (after "Did I take my meds?" , "Do I need new glasses?" , and "What the fuck is happening?") is that he needs both of them, immediately.

Anonymous said: Prompt (if you haven't written it already!) where due to time travel shenanigans, newt gets spit roasted by hermann(s)

i love how many requests i get for this kinda stuff HAHAHAH i technically have written this three times before, but in honor of newt’s birthday, let’s go for a fourth! MAJOR not sfw below cut!!!

----------

Newt is distracted as hell when he half-jogs into the lab one otherwise ordinary birthday afternoon, which might explain why he doesn’t see that there are two Hermanns at first. There’s too much on his mind—picking a club for tonight, what dissections he has to get done today before they can go out to a club, whether or not he remembered to wash his sexy club clothes, and if it even matters, because they’re just gonna get covered in glitter again. Whether or not the barista got Hermann’s coffee order right this time. Whether or not the special birthday breakfast pastries survived the journey. “It’s pouring out there,” he complains to Hermann, pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes and scraping his boots off on the pathetic rubber mat they keep in the doorway. “If it doesn’t let up, we might wanna reconsider going out tonight.”

“Newton,” Hermann says.

“Sweaty, wet bodies in a small room? Gross. No thanks.” Newt inspects the pastries: the brown wrappings of the one on top are slightly water-logged, but the pastry itself is fine. Perfect. “We could just rent a movie.”

“Newton,” Hermann says.

“And order some pizza.” Man, that’d make for a nice birthday. All cozied up in Newt’s bed with a monster movie and pizza. “Actually, let’s do that instead. I kinda wanted to go dancing, but—”

Hermann bangs his cane against the floor. It echoes strangely, almost as if he’s doing it twice at once, and Newt turns to him in confusion—or, as he discovers, them. He drops his pastry. He polishes his glasses free of water, and crams them back onto his face. He blinks a few times. “Oh, shit,” he says. “Dude, there are two of you.”

“I know,” both Hermanns say, and roll their eyes.

Newt approaches them cautiously. Two Hermanns. One of them is undoubtedly Newt’s Hermann, judging by his bad haircut, bad glasses, and bad clothing, which is the same boring slacks and sweater combo he was wearing when Newt left for coffee an hour ago. The other Hermann is a Hermann unlike one Newt’s ever seen before, clad in dark colors, with hair cropped somewhat more evenly and twice as many wrinkles around his eyes. Not two Hermanns—it can’t be two Hermanns. That’s a scientific impossibility. “Your brother,” Newt says. He knows Hermann has an older one, though the odds of Hermann having an older brother who uses a cane identical to his, on the same side as his, is a little slim.

“No,” Hermann says.

“You cousin?” Newt says.

“No,” the other Hermann says, but the corner of his mouth twitches up with an obvious fondness. “Your earlier assessment was correct, I’m afraid. There are two of me.”

Newt glances between them again. Same soft, brown eyes; same dark eyelashes; same weird, wide lips; same elegant cheekbones. Is Newt dreaming? No, he’s sure he’s not dreaming—it’s too, like, real to be a dream. (Besides, Newt’s brain is never this kind to him, and if it was, he would’ve just skipped the boring build-up and gone straight to the threeway.) Is he having some sort of a mental break, brought on by stress, or forgetting to take his meds somewhere along the line? Unlikely—Newt’s been way more stressed before, and he’s skipped his meds before, and he’s never had a reaction like this. It must be real. “Well, shit,” he finally says. “Hermann, this is the best birthday present ever.”

“Er,” Newt’s Hermann says. “It is?”

Newt cups the side of the new Hermann’s face, feeling it, inspecting it, reveling in the warmth of his skin. Yep—real, definitely real. Real and handsome. Newt pats his cheek. “You cloned yourself just so we could have an awesome birthday threesome,” Newt says. “That’s really touching, Hermann, seriously. I promise I won’t let you down.”

“No,” Hermann says. “That’s not—”

New Hermann gently places his hand over Newt’s, leaning into his touch, and smiles. There’s a hint of sadness to it Newt doesn’t quite understand. “I’m not a clone, darling,” he says.

“Oh, I like him,” Newt says. “He’s nicer. Definitely not a clone, then. Who are you, then, hot stuff?”

“He’s—oh.” Hermann sighs. “It all sounds so silly when I try to say it out loud. He’s from the future, Newton.”

Newt hums, considering New Hermann. Yeah, that makes more sense. Eye wrinkles. However far off in the future he’s from, apparently he’s picked up a bit more fashion sense by then, and maybe even a bit of style. “You came back in time just to have an awesome birthday threesome with me?” Newt guesses.

New Hermann laughs. Eye wrinkles, style, and apparently some sort of major head injury where he forgets how bad he and Newt hate each other. The future is now, or whatever. “Truthfully,” he says, “arriving on your birthday was unintentional. It’s difficult to get exact dates correctly with the sort of technology I was using, you see.”

“Apparently there’s some great big event that happens in 2035 that it’s absolutely imperative he warn us about,” Hermann says.

That’s a bit of a let down. Still cool by virtue of time travel, Newt guesses, but awesome birthday threesome would’ve been more exciting. “Oh,” he says. A let down, and a shame, really, because 11-years-into-the-future Hermann is pretty sexy, and Newt was hoping for the chance to get his hands on some of that. Or maybe get those hands on him. He’s not picky. “I mean,” he tries, one last desperate attempt, “what’s the rush, you know? You can always tell us afterwards.”

“Afterwards?” Future Hermann says.

“Afterwards,” Newt repeats. He grabs Future Hermann by the lapels of his dark labcoat and smiles cheekily. “You can spare a couple hours, can’t you, dude? For the birthday boy?”

A sudden warmth blooms behind the future Hermann’s eyes; his mouth stretches into a smile of his own, goofy and affectionate. Future Hermann sure seems to like him. Newt hasn’t got a problem with that in the slightest, actually. “Er, a couple,” he stammers, and Newt hears Hermann—his Hermann—inhale sharply, like he’s just been offended to the utmost degree. “I suppose that’s— Well, I suppose there’s no real problem there. It’s not as if I’m on a schedule. Time travel. After all.”

“After all,” Newt says. “What about you, Hermann?

Newt’s Hermann is silent for a little too long to be anything but considering. “Er,” he says.

“Good,” Newt says.

--------

“Alright, boys,” Newt says, “I’m not as young as I used to be, so I can’t promise I’m very good at this anymore.”

“Anymore?” Newt’s Hermann says.

Newt winks at him over his shoulder. He has a witty joke on the edge of his tongue, but it dies when the Hermann in front of him (older, nicer Hermann) begins to tenderly stroke his jaw without warning. “You’ve always been so handsome,” Hermann says. His hand trails up the side of Newt’s face and stops in his hair, where he begins to twirl a strand around his finger. Newt shivers. “I could stare at you all day.”

“That’s kinda creepy, Hermann,” Newt says. “And cute, I guess? Okay, here goes.”

He opens his mouth wide and takes in Hermann’s—the new Hermann’s—dick as deep as he can, which is somewhere around the three-fourths mark. He used to be a lot better at deep-throating in his twenties. Also, Hermann is somewhat very well-endowed. “Bugger,” the future Hermann moans. His eyes flicker shut, and his grip in Newt’s hair tightens, and Newt feels a surge of pride. He’s always loved being able to turn Hermann to jelly like this, and apparently some things never chance. He hopes future Newt is still giving it to Hermann like this. “Newton, that’s marvelous.”

“Oh, by Jove,” Newt’s Hermann murmurs. He’s standing behind them at the edge of the bed, his knees braced against it gently. He’s also undoubtedly enjoying the view. Newt smiles around Hermann’s dick (puffing out his cheeks for show, just a little), and wriggles his ass obnoxiously at his Hermann. He needed the guy inside of him five minutes ago, goddamn it. Hermann seems to get the hint: there’s a shaking hand placed on his hip, a lone finger prodding his lube-slick entrance to check he’s properly prepared, and then Hermann’s dick sliding into him inch-by-inch. Newt moans. 

“Newton,” the two Hermanns groan out in near-unison, the one as Newt begins to bob his head up and down his dick, the other as he bottoms out and his pelvis hits Newt’s ass.

Newt pulls his mouth off of Hermann’s dick for only a second. “Fuck me already,” he begs. His voice is raspy even to his own ears.

He’s not sure which Hermann he’d intended to direct the plea towards, but both take it to heart: the Hermann behind Newt begins to rock in and out of him, picking up speed with each little thrust, while the Hermann in front of Newt pushes his dick back between Newt’s lips and begins a series of shallow thrusts of his own. Newt feels speared open, and used; Newt feels fucking awesome. “Mm,” he moans. He ruts against the bedsheets lazily.

“Wait, wait,” the Hermann fucking his mouth suddenly says, voice breathless. “Your—ah—your timing is not quite right.”

“It most certainly is right,” the Hermann in his ass huffs. “You’re meant to be following my lead. Yours is off.”

“Hardly,” the first Hermann says. “Stop moving—we need a bloody rhythm. We needn’t overwhelm Newton.”

Both of them still. Newt hears them debating how to proceed in a series of hissed whispers (though he’s too busy happily sucking on Hermann’s dick to bother with proper eavesdropping), and then the Hermann behind him is pulling out, while the Hermann in front of him pushes further into his mouth and down his throat. Newt’s throat burns pleasurably; his eyes begin to water, and he gags very slightly. “There we are,” the first Hermann continues in a grunt. “Now—” He pulls out until the wet head of his dick is just grazing Newt’s lips, while the other Hermann pushes back into Newt’s ass. “Much neater.”

Newt swallows down a hysterical laugh, or maybe it’s more of a whimper, and just grins instead. “You guys work it out?”

“Shut it,” the Hermann behind him gasps. He grinds deep in Newt, hitting all the right spots, and Newt is grateful for the return of the other Hermann’s dick in his mouth to muffle him before he can really make an embarrassing sound.

They keep up the pattern for all of five minutes, which Newt is pretty impressed with. Slowly, though, they start to get impatient; lingering too long inside of Newt, or pulling out a bit too slowly, or jumping the gun just a bit too early to rock back in. The Hermann in behind is the first to snap and forgo it entirely, suddenly gripping onto Newt’s waist and pounding into him as hard as he can. Not that Newt is complaining. “Ah, Newton, that’s so—” he moans, and Newt rewards him with a little teasing squeeze, “I—”

“Mmhm,” Newt says. Part of him wants to start worrying about his own orgasm, but honestly, he’s enjoying this too much. 

Getting an idea, he pulls his mouth off of Hermann and replaces it with his hand. Hermann always gets really embarrassed when Newt lets him come on his face, and he’s curious about if that’s changed in eleven years. “This feels so awesome,” he says. He begins jerking Hermann off quickly, barely a centimeter from his lips. He’s sure he’s gonna say some dumb shit—he loses his mouth to brain filter (which already works at minimum capacity) completely when he’s this turned on. “So, so awesome. I wanna do it again with both of you guys in my ass or something, but I want you to come all over me first, fuck yeah, come on, Hermann, do it—”

“Newton!” the Hermann above him chokes out, throwing a hand over his eyes, which gives Newt all the warning he needs to stick his tongue out and catch a small portion of his jizz. The rest makes a mess of his glasses. Kinda gross. Pretty hot, too.

He’s not surprised when he feels the Hermann behind him stiffen and come in him only a second later, cursing and gasping—he really does like to see Newt messy.

While they both collapse to the bed and attempt to catch their breath, Newt rubs his fingers through the mess one Hermann made of his face and uses it as lube to stroke himself off. He doesn’t take very long, either, considering this is definitely one of the hottest things to ever happen to him. Top five birthdays for sure.

“So,” he says, ten minutes later. He’s positioned himself in bed as the middle of the Hermann sandwich. Both Hermanns (arms draped around Newt) look at him, but Newt only looks back at Future Hermann. “What did you come here to tell us?”

“Oh,” Future Hermann says. He blushes. “Er. Right.”

[littlespoonevan]

pick me up and take me home again

Ahh so I’ve been planning to write this for ages and I finally decided to start it - very ironically - about an hour before the 10x06 deleted scenes dropped lmao. So here’s some outsider pov on mickey and ian’s relationship as everyone reacts to mickey being released from prison and back in the gallagher house!

title comes from 400 lux by lorde

I hope you like it :)

*

Liam first remembers hearing Mickey’s name when Ian disappears right before Monica dies. He wasn’t supposed to hear, he doesn’t think, since Lip and Fiona had been whisper-yelling at each other. But Fiona had said “When does Ian ever think things through when Mickey’s involved?” and it’d made him curious.

“Who’s Mickey?”

He remembers how they’d both abruptly cut off, turning to stare at him like they were both at a loss for words until Fiona had finally said Mickey used to be Ian’s boyfriend when Liam was a toddler.

Liam had wracked his brain after that, trying to picture him but he could only remember vague snatches of a person. Ian had come home a couple of days later anyway, looking sad even though no one had told him about Monica yet. When they’d been in their room that night Liam had climbed up onto Ian’s bed and said he couldn’t remember who Mickey was and then immediately regretted it when Ian had looked like he was about to cry.

But he’d smiled a little after a moment and took out his phone, scrolling for a second before he’d handed it to Liam. The person in the picture with Ian had looked familiar in the same way you recognise an actor in a movie sometimes but have no idea why. He was pale with black hair and shorter than Ian and he was grinning in the picture with Ian’s arm around his neck, flipping the camera off.

“He looks familiar,” Liam had offered because Ian still looked sad and Ian’s smile had gotten a little brighter then.

He doesn’t hear Mickey’s name again until the day after Ian goes to prison when Lip gets off the phone with him and announces with a disbelieving laugh that Mickey is Ian’s cellmate.

“How the hell did that happen?” Fiona had asked, eyes wide with surprise, and Carl had been the one to answer.

“Mickey’s gone to jail for Ian before,” he’d said like it was obvious. “He loves him.”

Liam has never actually seen Mickey in person – at least, not that he can remember – so he doesn’t exactly expect it when he goes into the kitchen one evening and finds his brother at the stove with his arms wrapped around someone decidedly shorter than him with black hair. It has to be Mickey.

Liam watches from the living room entryway for a minute. Ian’s grinning in a way he hasn’t since he’s come home, hands on Mickey’s hips, and Mickey’s leaning against the counter, rubbing his hands over Ian’s arms and looking up at him with a smirk.

“Still can’t fucking believe you’re standin’ in front of me,” Ian says quietly but still loud enough for Liam to hear. “Missed you,” he adds, kissing Mickey’s lips and then the side of his face.

Liam raises his eyebrows – he’s never seen Ian like this. He’d met Trevor and he’d been nice enough but Ian had never been…in love around him.

Mickey laughs, draping his arms over Ian’s shoulders and loosely linking his fingers together at the back of Ian’s neck. He looks like he’s about to reply when his eyes catch on Liam standing in the doorway and he pauses. His eyes flick to Ian again and it’s enough to make Ian turn around.

Ian smiles when he notices Liam but Liam doesn’t miss the fact that his cheeks are red. “Hey buddy! We were just gonna make some food. Have you eaten yet?”

Liam shakes his head, ambling into the kitchen and hauling himself up into one of the seats at the breakfast bar.

“Mac and cheese good with you?” Ian asks him and Liam nods absently, watching Mickey. There’s the vaguest sense of recognition in the back of his mind, flashes of memories he can’t really grasp.

“You’re Mickey,” he says without preamble and Mickey huffs out a laugh, looking from Ian to him.

“Yeah,” he replies. “You’ve gotten big, kid.”

It’s weird that Mickey can remember him so clearly but he can’t do the same.

Ian’s grinning as he listens to their little exchange, dumping the box of macaroni into the pot. “Liam doesn’t really remember much from before,” he explains and Mickey raises an eyebrow at Liam as if looking for confirmation.

“Probably for the best,” he snorts.

“Ian showed me a picture,” Liam supplies.

“Oh yeah?” Mickey asks, cutting an extremely amused look at Ian. “When was this?”

“When he went to visit you that time,” Liam says, blinking in confusion when both Ian and Mickey freeze. He doesn’t really understand why – especially why Ian looks like a deer caught in the headlights. When the silence gets awkward, Mickey clears his throat.

“He did, huh?” he says softly and Liam hopes Ian doesn’t think he’s being subtle when his hand wraps around Mickey to squeeze his hip as he pretends to still pay attention to the boiling pasta.

Liam nods uncertainly. “Yeah. He was all sad ‘cause he missed you.”

It’s the right thing to say because Mickey gets a quiet smile on his face and his hand settles over Ian’s on his hip.

“He’s missed you since he came home too,” Liam adds as a further attempt at damage control, making Ian groan and give him a look.

“Oh my god, Liam,” he says long-sufferingly but Mickey laughs.

“Y’know what, kid, you were always my favourite Gallagher,” Mickey tells him with a smirk, shoving Ian when he tries to elbow him in the ribs.

And Liam finds himself smiling, if not for the fact that his brother is so happy then for the sense of familiarity he feels right now. A lot of people come through this house but not many slot into their lives so comfortably. He can feel the fact that Mickey has a place here though, even if he can’t remember it.

He thinks he might like having him around.

*

Tami is just getting used to the madness that is the Gallagher house when Ian’s convict boyfriend suddenly shows up out of the blue one day, walking around like he’s always been there. And she doesn’t actually think she’s being unreasonable when she says she doesn’t want a criminal around her baby.

“You know Ian was in prison too, right?” Lip points out later that night when she voices her concerns.

“Jesus Christ, he set a van on fire he didn’t murder anyone,” she says dismissively, keeping her voice pitched low so she doesn’t disturb Freddie in her arms.

“Mickey didn’t either,” Lip says, expression thoughtful. “At least, I don’t think so.”

Tami widens her eyes at him in an attempt to convey the full effect of her incredulity without yelling at him. “Are you serious right now?” she hisses.

Lip holds his hands up in surrender, leaning back against the wall their bed is pushed against. “Hey, if anyone in this family’s hated Mickey it’s me but he’s not so bad now. Plus, he and Ian actually know how to take care of a baby so they’ll come in handy as babysitters. Way more reliable than Carl.”

She doesn’t even want to know why they know how to take care of a baby, ignoring Lip’s attempts to coax her onto the bed with gentle hands on her hips. She sits down on her side of the bed of her own accord, careful not to jostle Fred, and shoots Lip a glare she thinks makes very clear just what she’ll do to his balls if anything happens to her baby.

If the way Lip’s eyes widen marginally is anything to go by, she’s made her point.

*

It’s a couple of hours later when she’s up with Fred for his late-night feed that she hears voices. Opening their bedroom door as quietly as possible, she slips out onto the landing and recognises Ian’s and – who she guesses is Mickey’s – voices. When she hears them coming up the stairs she panics, quickly stepping into the bathroom and pushing the door shut until it’s just shy of closing. There’s still a sliver of light where she can make out Ian and Mickey coming to a stop outside Carl’s bedroom that she guesses is theirs now too.

“Can’t wait to share your fuckin’ single bed that barely fits one grown adult again,” Mickey is saying, one arm slung around Ian’s neck as he looks up at him, a cocky tilt to his mouth.

Ian lets out a quiet laugh and Tami sees his hands sliding over Mickey’s sides. “I mean it’s an upgrade from our last setup.”

“Uh huh,” Mickey retorts, gaze flicking between Ian’s eyes and his mouth. “Say that again when I punch you for hogging all the fuckin’ blankets.”

Tami can’t see Ian’s face really but she can hear the smirk in his voice. “You say that like you don’t use me as your own personal blanket, Milkovich.”

“Yeah, well I don’t got a choice, do I?” Mickey says. “Like I said, you fucking steal the blankets.” He finishes his sentence with a swift jab at Ian’s ribs but Ian only laughs, backing him up against the wall next to the bedroom door and drawing him into a kiss.

And it’s…unexpected, really. Just how weirdly playful and affectionate they are. They sound like a real couple and she knows they are but they sound fucking married or on their way there, at least.

“Come on, I’m beat,” Ian is saying then, stepping away from Mickey until only their hands are connected. “Let’s go to bed.”

Mickey smiles at him and it’s such a contrast to the grimace she’d seen him wearing earlier she wonders how she’s even looking at the same person.

She doesn’t realise they’re coming towards the bathroom until it’s too late and she curses under her breath, making for the door and opening it just before they reach it.

Ian stops short and Mickey bumps into his back. “Tami,” Ian says, sounding confused but still polite.

“I was just giving Fred his feed,” she says, forcing her voice to sound casual. “Didn’t wanna wake Lip.”

Ian nods vaguely and they stand there in awkward silence for a beat too long before Ian seems to remember Mickey at his back. He turns to look between him and Tami. “Hey, have you two met or-?”

“We’ve met,” Mickey replies and she expects some hostility there but Mickey doesn’t seem to be able to help the curve of his mouth when he meets Ian’s gaze.

“Cool,” Ian says and his smile brightens again as he looks at Tami. “Mick’s my boyfriend,” he explains unnecessarily.

Tami flashes them a smile at that and finds she’s not faking it. “I better put this little guy down again,” she says, nodding to Fred in her arms. “Night, guys.”

She returns to the quiet of her and Lip’s bedroom and carefully deposits Fred in his crib, silently thanking him for not blowing her cover earlier.

She’s certainly feeling enlightened after that little encounter.

*

Carl’s always had faith in Ian and Mickey.

He might be dumb about a lot of things but he knew what he was talking about when it came to those two. He remembers asking Ian years ago if he loved Mickey and Ian had said he liked how he smelled. Carl didn’t really get it at the time but he remembers cuddling with Bonnie not long after that and sort of just breathing her in and feeling this weird calm settle over him.

That’s when he knew Ian knew what the fuck he was talking about when it came to love.

And that the only reason he knew any of that was because of what he had with Mickey.

So he’s always known they’d end up together – even when everyone else didn’t.

He’d say he’s annoyed about having to share a room with them but they’re being surprisingly tame right now – he figures he’d made the right decision giving the bedroom a wide berth all day until he absolutely had to go to bed.

Besides, it’s not like he’s not used to it from the old days.

They’re only talking now, whispering back and forth, and Carl knows he shouldn’t be listening but he can’t really fucking help it when they’re in his room.

“Man, are we ever gonna fuckin’ sleep in a bed that actually fits both of us?” Mickey asks quietly and Carl can hear the soft laugh Ian lets out.

“We had it pretty sweet at your place for those few months,” Ian replies.

Mickey makes some kind of unintelligible noise and then, “You think if we report Terry to the cops on some bogus charges we could move back?”

Ian laughs again, louder this time but still attempting to keep his voice down, Carl thinks. “I’m gonna get us our own place one day and buy the biggest fucking bed, I swear to god.”

“Oh yeah?” Mickey asks, sounding amused, and then there’s the distinct noise of lips smacking together.

Weirdly, it makes Carl want to smile.

“Mhm,” Ian hums. “A king-size or a queen-size, whichever one’s bigger. I can’t remember.”

Mickey breathes out a noise that sounds like a laugh and Carl hears the covers shift. “You makin’ plans again?”

“You don’t want to come live with me in our own private space with a big bed?” Ian asks in that shit-eating voice Carl knows all too well from when Ian decides to be a pain in the ass. “Fine. I’ll go sleep in the big bed all by myself. Think I’ll get one of those memory foam mattresses.”

“Uh huh,” Mickey replies and Carl’s not sure but he sounds like he’s smiling. “How’re you plannin’ on paying for all of this, hotshot?”

“It’s a goal to work towards,” Ian says affably and Mickey hums before there’s more kissing noises.

And Carl is really fucking happy for them, if he’s being honest. He knows he doesn’t know all the ins and outs of their relationship but comparing this conversation to the tentative, quick conversations they used to have before with Mickey on the floor and Ian in his bed, it’s just really clear that they’ve finally got shit figured out.

He’s pretty sure no one else deserves it more.

*

Debbie’s always sort of been secretly rooting for Ian and Mickey.

Call it the hopeless romantic in her or that gene inside her that’s so desperate to cultivate anything approximating family but she’s always thought Ian found a home in Mickey. More importantly, she’s always thought Mickey found the same in him – which can’t really be said for any of the other Gallagher siblings’ relationships.

Still, she doesn’t really expect to see them like this.

She gets home from work the day after Mickey is released from prison and finds them on the couch. Ian’s wedged into the corner, back pressed into the spot where the armrest meets the back cushion, and Mickey’s leaning back against his chest, both of their legs propped up on the coffee table.

They offer her a, “Hey,” when she comes into the living room.

“Hey,” she replies amusedly. She’s pondered a lot of things about their relationship but she never thought Mickey would be the little spoon, regardless of their height difference.

But he looks ridiculously content in Ian’s arms, with Ian trailing his fingers up and down his arm while his other arm overlaps with Mickey’s across Mickey’s stomach.

“Whatcha watching?” she asks, perching on the edge of the armchair and trying not to stare too much at how comfortable they look.

“Some gameshow thing,” Ian replies, suggesting they probably hadn’t really been paying attention to it all that much.

She nods in acknowledgement, eyes on the screen for a minute until Mickey’s voice pulls her attention.

“What a fucking idiot,” he exclaims. “The answer is obviously C. Who let this fuckin’ clown on the show?”

She huffs a laugh and then has to bite back a squeal when she realises Ian’s stifling his own laugh by pressing his smile into Mickey’s hair.

And they’re just. So fucking cute.

And she doesn’t think they were ever really allowed to be that before. They’re probably long overdue a honeymoon phase that lasts at least a year. She decides to leave them be then, let them enjoy their own little bubble for a while.

But she thinks from now on, when she wants relationship advice, Ian and Mickey are gonna be her go-to.

*

The thing is, Lip knew about Ian and Mickey long before anyone else did.

Carl and Debbie – and even Fiona – only knew when it counted. When Mickey was there, sleeping on their floor and then Ian’s bed and convincing Ian to go to the hospital and then to take his meds. They only knew when Mickey was too worried about Ian to worry about what everyone else saw.

They never saw the bad shit. The way Ian withdrew into himself more and more when Mickey got engaged. The fucking bruises and Ian’s tears and Ian’s heartbreak and Lip knows, rationally, that most of that shit wasn’t Mickey’s fault. That he was as much a victim as Ian was. But when Lip’s little brother and best friend in the world is getting his heart ripped to shreds Lip doesn’t feel all that sympathetic.

Thing is though, he forgave Mickey for that a long time ago.

Like he said, when it counted, Mickey was there. And Lip would have to be fucking blind not to believe Mickey didn’t love Ian after all that, would have to be the stupidest person on the planet not to think every fibre of Mickey’s being was devoted to Ian.

So he knows they love each other. He knows that.

But he’s never really seen them actually be a couple before.

He’s in the kitchen, making up Fred’s bottle for him and Mickey and Ian are over by the washer and dryer, ostensibly washing the clothes Sandy dropped over from the Milkovich house. But really, Mickey’s sitting on the dryer with Ian standing between his legs and Lip is so fucking glad for once that he’s running on about three hours sleep because he doesn’t have the brain capacity to pay attention to how disgustingly soft they’re being.

They’re laughing about something, hands roaming all over each other’s torsos and Lip wonders idly if Mickey’s smile is really that bright or if he’s become so sleep-deprived that he’s started hallucinating.

“You still need to give me your list for Costco,” Ian is saying and what the actual fuck? Are they talking about groceries?

“Uh, well, soap and shampoo at least,” Mickey says sarcastically. “Even though you’ll probably conveniently forget it so I keep using yours.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Ian snorts and Lip’s too curious not to look over as he sees Mickey give Ian a sceptical look.

“You think I don’t know about your little scent fetish?” Mickey says and Lip wants to bleach his brain. He hastily returns his attention to the bottle.

Ian splutters for a second before he laughs. “It’s not a fucking fetish, oh my god.”

“Uh huh,” Mickey retorts. “You think I don’t notice you fuckin’ inhaling my neck when we’re spooning?”

Okay, Lip has officially stumbled into a parallel universe where Mickey Milkovich is in his kitchen talking about spooning with his brother.

“I think I can control myself enough to let you use your own shampoo,” Ian scoffs and then, as far as Lip can tell, fucking proves Mickey’s point by dipping in to kiss the crook of Mickey’s neck. Or smell it, probably. Jesus, Lip needs to go.

Mickey starts laughing but it very quickly turns into a sharp inhale and Lip doesn’t stick around for anything else, just grabs the bottle and hightails up the back staircase to get Freddie from upstairs, right as he hears the dryer knock against the wall.

And despite the probable desecration of their family kitchen happening right now, he thinks it’s about time those two caught a break.

*

[cottoncandyjester]

Hope youre having a better day!

I kinda wanna ask OC tier list of who descends into madness and desperation for the person they love fastest

What a good ask! Also yes I'm doing much better thank you

This is honestly just me ranting about my ocs at this point cause I love them to death

This story contains: yandere talk, talk of cannibalism, murder, drug use, self harm, kidnapping, toxic behavior

Salem

Salem is already insane so if he catches any hint of you trying to leave he absolutely loses it. Salem is my most dangerous oc and the one who is definitely the darkest in terms of method, salem is a cannibal after all so eating his victims and even feeding them to you would definitely be his method of keeping you his.

In his eyes if he eats your friends and family then you have absolutely no choice but to stay with him. He will do what is needed in order to keep you all his and if that means hurting you well then it needs to be done.

He is someone who has dealt with a very traumatic backstory where people leave him all the time, this has given him intense abandonment issues. He can't handle the thought of you going away. He won't allow that to happen even if he has to kill you cause after all if he can't have you then no one can

Axis

Axis is next on this list cause of how emotional he is, it does not take him long to go completely insane for his Darling, he is willing to do anything to make them stay. If he gets even the slightest whiff of distancing he will go to the extreme so you never have that thought ever again

I stated before in other posts that he is willing to use his disability to make himself seem more pathetic but that's the same thing with self harming himself, he will break a bone or two if it means you stay with him

He's extremely toxic and you make him go absolutely insane with everything you do, he has to keep you close at all times or he lashes out in a pathetic tantrum. Thinking about it makes me giddy cause I wanna write some insane axis stuff

Hikaru

Hikaru is definitely a close third to this list, he is a degrading king so the moment he feels as if you're brave enough to try and walk away he is crushing your ego and self confidence. He lashes out violently at the mere mention of you leaving or talking to someone else

He spirals at the idea that you can't be his, he simply can't handle something like that. He has to do whatever it takes to have you and if that means getting his hands dirty then so be it. He honestly doesn't want to ruin his public image but if he absolutely has to he will

He is willing to erase his existence if it means being able to have you to himself, he simply doesn't care and wants you to belong to only him, he is extremely jealous after all.

It makes you unclear if he actually loves or hates you, he claims to love you yet hitting you and degrading you is something he does on the daily. You are his idiot pig and though he always makes the claim that he doesn't know why he's in love with a commoner he is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you

Prince

Prince is someone who takes a while to lose his cool, his yandere side is hidden very well and is rarely shown cause he would rather use his own charms instead of scaring you into submission, that being said. When he does get to that point he is paranoid as hell, he will trap you in a room with one tiny window and about one hundred locks on the door.

Once he goes insane his worry is having someone steal you away so you will no longer be out in public until his paranoia is dealt with and settled. He is the type to burn down your house and say you died in a house fire so no one will be looking for you.

He wants to make sure you have no choice to be his, he really does want to make you fall for him though so even though he's scared of losing you he's always loving and affectionate with you in hopes stockholm syndrome kicks in or something.

Yuki

Yuki is calm and collected to make him go crazy you have to push him over and over and over until he snaps. You leaving will stir him up but he wants to be calm about this and not make any rash choices, that being said if you were to find another lover besides him that would really do it for him.

He would see that as cheating and go insane his next move would be a total bloodbath of bodies, he wants to be cool calm and collected but you stir something in him.

He is a lazy sluggish person who honestly rather play videogames and sleep instead of being active but for some reason when he's around you that sleepy feeling goes away. He's happier when you are there so there is no way he's letting you go.

Theodore

Theo never loses his cool even if he does something drastic he seems so calm about it. He makes sure to always calm down if he's upset so you don't see that side of him, he doesn't like it when you see him angry because he's worried about seeming like a bad husband.

When he does do something crazy like kill or kidnap someone you love he is always so level headed. He always leaves the choice of that person's fate to you, his goal is to make you insane or at least make is seem like you are so you have no choice but to rely on him.

If you think that you're crazy then theo can be the voice of reason to you, manipulating you in the most beautiful of ways. Of course if you're too mentally strong for that he could just drug you until you're that perfectly submissive spouse he always dreamed of, though that's his last resort since overuse of drugs could make you braindead and he likes his lovers being able to speak.

[charspnp]

Headcanons of Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki with a s/o who looks tough but is a total softie loves kids, animals and is very goofy and affectionate but when facing a villain is super fierce bad ass and just super strong!

badass s/o who's secretly a softie

「 midoriya, bakugou, todoroki x gn!secret softie! reader 」

masterlist

midoriya

ngl he was scared of you at first

he just thought you were another bakugou but quieter

was even more scared of you when he saw you fight

he still took notes ab your quirk doe

because of your tough exterior, he wondered how someone like mina had befriended you

she was always seen hanging out with you and laughing

when everyone went to the mall, you, mina, ochako, and midoriya all went together to get clothes

midoriya was suuuper nervous about being close to you

but somehow, you two ended up alone while looking at clothes

midoriya was stiff the whole time he was near you, and not a word was spoken

that is, until a little girl with tears in her eyes tugged at your shirt

you crouched down to her level and in the sweetest voice midoriya's ever heard, you spoke, "what's wrong, sweetie?"

the girl explained how she got separated from her parents and didn't know where they were. you pat her head and told her it was going to be all right while setting her on top of you shoulders

you then turned to midoriya and asked, "midoriya, do you mind helping me find this girl's parents?"

with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and quickly nodded

and you two were off in search of the whereabouts of said parents

as you guys were searching, you cracked jokes with him and the child

during the trip, he had learned that you were actually super chill and funny

after finding the parents and getting multiple thank you's, you turned to midoriya (who had gone stiff again under your gaze) and said, "thank you for helping me out, midoriya."

you smiled at him and he almost died on the spot

how could someone so mean looking be so nice ?????

nonetheless, he waved off your kind gesture as his cheeks got redder by the second

literally it only took one day and this boy is whipped for you ✋😔

bakugou

at first, he wanted nothing to do with you

he just thought of you as another extra

that is, until he saw you fight

he saw your determination and strength and was hooked immediately

he wasn't surprised someone so mean looking was so powerful, but he also didn't expect you to be that strong

after fighting, he would focus on you a little more than the other "extras"

would never admit it, but he wouldn't mind losing to you 😳

he sees you in the gym training every now and then, and after learning your schedule, he now goes there every time you go there in hopes of you noticing him

he calls himself stupid for wanting to get noticed by you, but he wasn't gonna introduce himself, hell no

after you did notice him, he noticed you were more quiet and reserved than he initially thought

nonetheless, he still thought you were a baddie

small talk in the gym turned to conversations in school, to you sitting at his table, to the two of you walking together after school

bakugou found the conversations he had with you after school surprisingly enjoyable

not only are you super strong, but your also super smart and funny too???

not fair bruh

bakugou still thinks of you as the same badass he first met though

until you saw a little cat on your walk to the dorms

in the middle of a badass story of how you defeated a villain, you suddenly gasped and stopped walking

bakugou was confused and was about to tell at you for stopping when he saw you kneeling down, petting a cat

you were talking baby to as it was rubbing up against your hand

bakugou froze in surprise

he questioned how you looked so cute and soft when facing a cat but like a totally different person when facing a villain

as he was frozen, face red, you bid your goodbyes to the cat and walked back to bakugou

you saw that he wasn't moving and rolled you eyes while looking your arm around his and spinning him around so you could continue walking

when he came back to reality, he let out a "o-oi! what the hell?"

"what?" you asked sweetly.

"you went all soft on me!" he seemed to not notice how your arm was holding onto his.

you rolled your eyes again, "tell anyone about that and you're dead."

that's when he surprisingly shut up

somehow you had managed to pull his heartstrings and he hated it

todoroki

okay,,,,,

he was never interested in relationships

before he saw you

sure you looked tough but he could tell you're a softie

don't ask how

he just knows y'know

while he didn't make any efforts to befriend you, he really wanted to

so when midoriya had introduced you to the dekusquad, he was super happy

now he actually made an effort to talk to you and he was glad you made an effort as well

you're the person he would smile with normally

of course he would be scared of you sometimes- like when you were sparring with someone or if a friend of yours is getting bullied

there is one time, though, where he saw the really soft side of you

you, todoroki, deku, and iida went out to get some things for the dorm and your friends when you noticed some people were being terrorized by a small time criminal

unsurprisingly, you were the first to move over to them

while you were intimidating the criminal, the three boys also made their way over to you

upon seeing the high class students, the criminal started running with a little boy under his arm

you chased after him, todoroki and deku following closely while iida stayed to help however he could with the other people

you pounced on the villain and subdued him, taking the small boy into yours arms while deku called for the police with the criminal in his hands

you assured the crying child everything would be okay while hugging him

in that moment, todoroki only saw love in your eyes

he couldn't help but blush at the thought of you looking at him like that

then iida and two other people came rushing over to you guys

the two people took the child and thanked you multiple times

he saw blush on your cheeks and his thoughts got cloudy

he wanted to do thathe wanted to be the reason you're flustered

when they left, your demeanor changed back to the usual toughness

you looked at todoroki and asked in a harsh tone, "what?"

he simply answered, "you're a softie."

you blushed harder and denied multiple times while waving your arms in the air.

todoroki didn't care, though, he was only focusing on how he had made you blush

----------

requests: open, 5-5-20

these are kinda long lol. but thank you for requesting!! i kinda made todo ooc and i don't like his but eh

[yan-twst]

(since you didnt say any letters i just did the whole thing! which was a bit extensive so this is a LONG post, i'll try to put a read more thing but i'm in mobile so i'll see if it worked)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He's one of the most caring partners out there. In public, he might seem standoffish and cold- however, he's actually very fond of physical affection. He'll never ask for his darling to pet him or kiss him- however, his darling provably knows doing that is a surefire way to make him instantly happy... and a happy captor is better than an angry one

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

As much as needed, but nothing over the top. He's strong and he knows it: if he hears anyone was mean to his darling, or was flirting, he'll rough them up. He'd never intentionally kill, though: if that happens, well... He probably just got carried away.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

No. Absolutely not. He loves his darling more than anything in the world- he's already heartbroken because he knows what he's doing is wrong, he would never dare make them feel worse.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Also no. Keeping his darking abducted is something he sees as a necessity to keep them safe- however, he won't force his darling to love him. He might hug them or hold them close to sleep, but he will never do anything his darling doesn't want to, even if he truly really craves kissing them and holding them.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He won't bare all his emotions to them, but he will be more open and emotional with them. He'll definitely express his grief and internal conflict over his actions, but he'll try his best to look like a strong, reliable person so his darling may feel like they can rely on him.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He'd be both impressed and heartbroken. Impressed, because he knows his strength is no joke- unless his darling is seriously jacked, any sort of physical struggle is useless, but he'd be quite impressed at their will to do so. Heartbroken, because he tries so hard to keep his darling happy even while they're kidnapped by him: he'd feel like he failed, and that he's a failure of a lover.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This is absolutely not a game to Jack. He's truly hoping to form a real relationship with his darling, that one day they'll love him like he does. In his eyes, he's just keeping them safe- attempts to escape not only make him incredibly sad, but even more doting and "loving" to the point where it becomes overwhelming for his poor darling.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

If his darling ever got someone to help them escape, they'd witness the ugliest side of him. He'd be so blinded by rage he might rip his darling out of their saviour's grasp violently enough to bruise them, and his darling would have to watch as he unleashes hell onto their saviour. This would probably be one of the few times that he would ever physically hurt his darling- they'd get dragged back so roughly it wouldn't be shocking it they snapped a wrist.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He just wants a quiet, wholesome life where he marries his darling and he provides for them. If his darling is ok with it, he'd like children- adopted or biological, he doesn't care. He clings to the hope his darling will come to love him as desperately as he does, and stay under his control willingly.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

At first, he wasn't as jealous- however, the more time he spends with his darling, the worse he gets. If he's in public, he might just clench his fists and try to calm down, memorizing the offender's face to beat them up later. However, if he's in an isolated space where someone dares talk of his darling in a familiar manner, he'll probably beat them into next week without even giving them time to finish their sentence. It's not so much because he's scared they'll steal his darling away: he's more scared they are "bad people" who will bring harm to his darling... After all, he's just protecting them!

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

He's incredibly gentle and loving. In moments like these, it might even be easy to forget he's kidnapped his darling. He'll try to get their favorite food, get them books they like, and make sure they're as comfortable as he can make them. If his darling has given in a bit to him, he'll place them in his lap to simply be close to them- however, he'll always try to respect his darling as much as he can without letting them be too free.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He probably has no idea a first and has to ask Ruggie and Leona for help- there two are, of course, no real help. His darling better be prepared for odd food gifts, because that's about all the advice he got. However, as time goes on, he'll try to woo his darling by talking more about his feelings and intentions.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not particularly- the main change is that he is a much more sweet and affectionate person, and also a more protective person than he lets on.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He hates punishing his darling more than anything, but sometimes it has to be done. He might isolate them completely, ignoring them until they have to beg for his attention (since he's the only person they have), or take away all the little comforts he's given. Still, after he sees his darling sad or uncomfortable he'll break and stop the punishment.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

He'll keep his darling confined for a while- maybe after they've given up on escape he'll agree to take them out on dates to secluded places, or some minimal interactions with people he trusts. He'll allow communication with outsiders through stuff like messages or letters as long as he's allowed to monitor everything his darling says and receives back.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Almost infinitely so. He's well aware his darling probably wants to leave, that they're scared- he believes that it'll take a long time for them to understand he only had "good" intentions. Sure, he might get a bit snappy sometimes, but he'll do his best to not get too angry at his darling.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No. If it was death, he'd fall into a deep depression: he'd sworn to protect them, so how could they die? If it was a successful escape, he'd relentlessly search. In his mind, he's the best person to protect his darling- he wouldn't stop searching for them, even if it takes all of his life.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Yes, he feels that way every day when he sees other happy couples on the outside. He kidnapped his darling because he loves them and wants to keep them safe, but he knows that his darling resents him for it deeply. However, he'd never let them go: in his mind, his darling is in danger if they're out, and he would NEVER put his darling in danger.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

A deep desire to protect what's precious to him. He isn't too good at understanding his own emotions, or at understanding love: he's acting on whatever his instincts tell him, and they say to protect his darling.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He's in absolute pain when this happens. He'll clumsily try to comfort them, rubbing their back and holding them to his chest. If that doesn't help (which is likely), he'll try to give them space to air out their grief so he can make it up to them somehow later.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He's just so gentle and loving sometimes it's hard to be angry at him. His darling is probably always in conflict, knowing that he's fucked up for doing this to them, and at the same time, not being able to help the positive feelings associated to all the kindness he gives them.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

His love and desperation to be loved back. If his darling began to reciprocate his affections, demanding to be held and kissed, giving him as much attention as posible, he'd be so blissed out he might lower his vigilance a little- just a little.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Nothing more than some rough dragging when they try to escape and he's particularly mad, and some tight holds on their hand or wrist to keep them from running if he takes them outside.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He loves his darling a lot, but he doesn't "worship" them. After all, his end goal is a "normal" relationship in which his darling loves him back as much as he does: he doesn't want to put his darling on a pedestal, he wants to be at their level! However, he'll try very hard to win their affection.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

For a good amount of time. At first he probably doesn't even notice he's in love- not until someone teases him about how much he's staring at his darling. From then on, his feelings just snowball until he's so deeply in love it's overwhelming.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If he did, it would be accidental. He'd be misserable if his darling became a doll-like thing that barely speaks or moves: however, if their "breaking" made them into a submissive, quiet but affectionate person... Well, he'd be very sad to know he caused such a change: however, he'd quickly grow a bit too happy at his darling's willingness to accept his affection.

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Radio Host & Radio Ghost - Nov 14

Alastor meets a ghost possessing a vintage radio.

He’s absolutely delighted.

Valera

Valera hums, rubbing their hands together. What a lovely day to bring demons into their home. Not a single consequence could possibly result from this! With Alastor's okay, they could finally get around to opening a portal for him, whatever water he'd decided was sufficient rippling and turning into an inky void before his eyes. On her side, Valera plops back on the couch and awaits his arrival.

Alastor

And Alastor’s more than ready to jump through the inky void he’s been promised is a portal!

He has not, however, been informed that the portal he just jumped DOWN into is VERTICAL on the other side.

He lands on his back with a blurt of confused mixed frequency crosstalk. What.

Valera

A laugh track plays from across the room, and Valera leans forward to get a good eyeful of the poor, confused fellow. "My dear, if I'd known you were falling all over yourself to get here, I'd have invited you much sooner! Come now, pick up those sorry spirits and have some spirits with me." Funny way to talk about spiked tea, but alright Val.

Alastor

Disoriented by the 90° shift in the angle of gravity, he blinks up at the ceiling for a moment. “What, was the repeated pleading to come see it not obvious enough?”

As his head sorts itself out he abruptly registers the laugh track—SOMEBODY ELSE’S laugh track—and he immediately sits up and looks toward the source of the sound. “Well!!” He’s on his feet in a flash and crossing the room, heading like an arrow toward the authentic, vintage, genuine, incomparable 1931 Philco 90 Baby Grand Cathedral Radio. “Oh my goodness, what a beauty! Look at this! Oh, this is the only cathedral I’ll ever worship at.” He kneels down to get a better look at the front of it. “The wood needs a little love and care—walnut, isn’t it? I don’t know wood but I know my radios, I could swear Philco used walnut—but it’s in fantastic condition!” He presses the side of his head to the front, eyes closed like he’s trying to listen to it. “All nine tubes sound beautiful, just beautiful!” Apparently that’s something you can hear, at least if you’re Alastor.

He sits back and turns to the man sitting next to the radio, beaming. “Listen to me, gushing away without even—Hello! May I compliment you on your lovely home, sir!”

Valera

Whatever Valera was planning to say is forgotten immediately, Alastor's enthusiastic response to her latest acquisition more than entertaining enough to distract her from her train of thought.

The radio flicks on and off like its fluttering its lashes, dial twirling playfully in a reflection of the Ghost Of The Hour's own beaming grin. A waggle of his fingers, and he speaks, voice emanating from the radio and rather garbled as the dial flicks back and forth.

"Compliment taken and appreciated, you beautiful stranger! Aren't *you* all the candy and then some? Lovely to meet a man who knows his stuff, you're right on all counts! Walnut, hand rubbed finish, this is a genuine type two article straight from the production line of late 1931! Updated with AVC and the beautiful addition of type 47 power pentode tubes for the finest and most reasonably priced audio on the market!" A pause to "breathe" as the radio's light flickers, and he shrugs, still beaming. "I'd offer to shake your hand, my good man, but I find I left my tangibility back home. Though I'm happy to try!"

Alastor

His invisible studio audience oohs and aahs appreciatively at each new technical detail. “Reasonably priced, oh, boy—I’d barely paid off a ‘32 when I died! Eighty bucks, if I remember right! Well with the price but good golly if I wouldn’t have loved to enjoy it a little longer.”

He gets to his feet, leaving one hand lingering on top of the radio affectionately. “Oh, I’d give it a shot! Typically, the dead can touch the dead.” He offers his hand. “The name’s Alastor! I’m a radio man myself—on air from ‘24 to ‘33, you might have heard me if you were in range of New Orleans! And what do I call you, my friend?”

Valera

"Oh! A fellow dearly departed? And so close to my own time, give or take a few years! I'd offer my condolences on your departure from the mortal realm, but it seems to me that you're doing rather well for yourself! PLEASURE to meet you, Alastor!" He takes the offered hand in his own, grinning even wider when he realizes he can actually touch the red newcomer. He's got a handshake like he's going to sell you something, firm and eager. "New Orleans, you say? KTRD? Well I never! I do believe I played your station in my old shop! Your broadcast helped me sell quite a few radios back in the day."

A delighted chuckle, and he gives Alastor's hand a last squeeze before dropping it to mess with his suit lapels. "My friends called me Al, but my name is Alexander! I had some other names too I'm sure, but they haven't found their way back yet."

Alastor

He shakes back just as eagerly and his grin stretches wider. “Yessiree, that was me! *Your Pal Al, first voice you hear in the morning and last voice you hear at night!* Why, if I’d known that I was doing free advertising for Philco, I would have written them a letter and asked them to give me a Baby Grand on the house. Still, probably the best eighty bucks I ever spent.”

He takes a step back, giving Alexander a bit of his own space. “I’d catch you up on what you missed, but I’d probably only be able to offer you a couple of years—were you ‘31, or did that just happen to be the model you had nearby when you shuffled off the mortal coil?—and I’ve spent my time since then down in Hell—hope that’s not too off-putting, you know how it is, make a few little mistakes and forget to say your Hail Marys before you kick the bucket and suddenly you find you’re serving an afterlife sentence without possibility of parole! I expect you’ve had a better chance to keep up with the news than I have!”

Valera

"I'd have sent you one myself if I hadn't bought the farm! But your business was appreciated, I'm sure. A radio broadcaster with your chops has quite the eye for quality if I do say so myself, your radio was in the best hands possible!"

"This beauty was a gift from my parents, got it new and died within the month, if memory serves! Damn shame, but it all worked out. I'm sure my mothers would be charmed that I was so attached!"

He waves off the news of Alastor's new home with a scoff. "Oh, pah to that! I was never much for religion before I bit the dust, God always struck me as a terrible sort of man. If you wound up in Hell, it's probably for the better! I'd hate being in close quarters with the kind of parent who thinks tossing his children into fire and brimstone was the best teaching method!"

Alastor

A studio audience laugh at “attached”; attached in more senses than one, apparently. “They must have been women with exquisite taste! Quite a pity about the timing, but at least you’ve had plenty of time to enjoy it! Amazing how well it’s held up, can’t tell you the last time I saw quality like this. Of course,” he arches his eyebrows, “that might just be a side-effect of the neighborhood I’ve been living in, eh? Lucky you latched onto this beauty—otherwise you probably would have ended up living there too, considering your personal leanings. Fair enough if you don’t want to move into that big gated community in the sky, but I wouldn’t recommend the alternative, either.”

He glances over at Valera—wow, look at that, he actually does remember that they’re in the same room. “Speaking of which...” He nods at the spot of the portal he so gracelessly stepped out of earlier. “You probably don’t want to take this with you the next time you spend the night at your fiancé’s. I’ve never heard of a ghost voluntarily walking into Hell so I’m not sure if they’d immediately notice, but I do know that imps conducting business topside are charged with keeping an eye out for rogue spirits that ought to be down below. You take him in, they might not let him back out.”

Valera

Alexander rolls back on his heels, happy to peek around Alastor and back at Valera. Ah, his unexpected rescuer who he's trying very hard not to be wildly rude to by screaming at over the existence of actual aliens! Thumbs up!

As for Valera, she looks at Alastor with raised eyebrows. "Good to know! I hadn't made any plans yet, but it would be a damn shame to get this fellow stuck in a new prison so soon after getting him out of the previous one." A sip at her cup, and she curls her tail politely around her legs. "Either way, I brought you here to help with repairs! Bring your friend over here and lets start getting the cobwebs out of his home, hm?"

Alastor

“Why, of course! Pardon me—“ And up it goes. As he carries the radio over to Valera he’s cradling it half like it’s a heavy sack of groceries and half like it’s a baby. “I didn’t have an opportunity to look around the back, what all needs doing?”

Valera

Valera opens her mouth, and is immediately cut off as Alexander practically flings himself forward to 'sit' on the floor next to the cleaning supplies. "There's almost no damage to the internals, lucky for us! My lovely little number's managed to hold up beautifully despite the.. Unideal conditions. This sweet faced dame here scraped off most of the wax from my previous landlord's attempt at what I assume was an exorcism, but a gentle wash wouldn't hurt! Aside from that, it's largely dusting and polishing! Mindless, really."

He chuckles, the dial on the radio tapping back and forth like a metronome. "Though the lady here took one look at the bottom of the chassis and said she'd rather call an expert, poor thing. From what I saw, it's just a bit of rust and dirty wires, nothing even a child couldn't handle! I'm sure a man like yourself wont even break a sweat!"

Alastor

“So I see.” He leans forward, arching an eyebrow as he inspects the remaining wax. “What kind of ‘unideal conditions’ are we talking about, here? And how *did* this end up here?” He directs that question to Valera. “Of all the places I’d expect to find a ‘31 Philco, you have to go pretty far down on the list before I start listing locations off of planet Earth. And even at that ‘the moon’ and ‘Mars’ would have been my next guesses.” SPEAKING OF WHICH, he leans toward Alexander and gives him an excited look. “Did you know we put ROBOTS on MARS?”

Okay, exciting news shared, back to business. He carefully inspects the bottom of the chassis himself—nothing too bad down there. “I’m as good an expert as you’ll need! I’ve lovingly cleaned off enough fine old radios in my time—although I’m hard-pressed to think of one as fine as THIS!” He looks over the selection of cleaning tools.

Valera

Valera's attempts to speak are once again completely drowned out by Alexander's crackly voice. "Oh she got me on Earth, rest assured! I was in one of my.. grand nephew's attics, I believe? And yes, I DID hear about the robots on Mars! I had nothing to do but listen to the radio while I was up there, and as much as they like to pretend they've murdered the art of broadcasting, there certainly are still plenty of stations out there sharing the news! Nothing compared to your own, of course, but still." A dip of his head towards Alastor, and he scoots closer to watch him work.

The standard tools are available. Wood cleaner, a few soft rags, a small steel wool brush, and rust removing solvents, along with a little pack of cloths for polishing brass. Val side eyes Alexander and deliberately doesn't speak as she picks up a rag to offer to Alastor.

Alastor

He's starting to detect a pattern here. "Say, my phantasmal friend!" He leans over and slings an arm around Alexander's shoulders. "I realize you haven't had much experience with conversation in a while—but let's let our friend Valera get a couple of words in edgewise from time to time, shall we?" He winks, then returns to studying the radio, this time inspecting the innards. He takes the rag and starts brushing out the worst of the dust, just a rough pass to get out the easy stuff. "Ah, of course you would have heard! Naturally. What kind of a state is radio broadcasting in these days, anyway? I've heard some dismal things."

Valera

There's a flash of confusion on Alexander's face as he looks between Alastor and Valera, but he nods without any protest, obligingly leaning in until Alastor releases him from the casual half embrace. "Of course! Terribly rude of me, I'll curb the enthusiasm. My manners could use as much dusting as my radio, it seems!" A light chuckle, and he props his chin on his hands, watching Alastor's movements intently.

"Miserable! It's atrocious the kind of programming they think passes standard these days. Once they broke the stations into specialties, the bar dropped straight past hell! Why, if you have a grave, Alastor, I'm sure you were rolling in it. Half the contents is advertisements, and the other half replays the same songs every few hours with no shame!" He heaves a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. Valera rolls her eyes.

Alastor

“Oh, Hell hasn’t fared much better, I’m afraid—although I’ve helped keep things interesting on the AM band, at least!” A weary sigh. “And to think in the twenties we were butting heads against the regulations that discouraged specialization. Who would have thought the alternative would make so many stations so bland?” His tone darkens. “Although I blame the networks more than anything else, truth be told.”

He’s got a bone to pick with networks.

Valera

Valera finally has a chance to speak? Good. "Well, I'm glad you two have so much to talk about! I'd say you should exchange numbers or find a way to talk in DMs, but I haven't had a chance to try and explain texting or tumblr blogs to Alexander yet." And she is NOT looking forward to it!

"Though, Alastor, if you'll indulge my hypotheticals while we tidy this fellow up. What do you think would be the best way to deal with his current state? I've thought about asking Pentious to make him some kind of automaton frame around his radio, or find a way to separate him from the radio entirely and... Force him to manifest some form of body."

Alexander shrugs, flipping a dismissive hand. "I've got no knowledge of the supernatural, and barely any on the normal natural either, so this is all Greek to me!"

Alastor

“I wonder if it would be possible to get a radio signal through to Hell! I’ve never picked up a radio broadcast from the living world before, but as far as I know none have been sent out by the dead. At any rate, if Internet can get between here and Hell, radio should be able to just as easily—it’s all the exact same stuff, just traveling through the air on different frequencies.”

Alastor considers the issue of Alexander’s body for a moment, glancing over at him. There’s a brief quiet humming noise like microphone feedback from the radio’s speakers as Alastor stretches out with his own energy field, prodding around Alexander’s, measuring it.

Then he snaps it back in and continues working. “Automatons are all well and good, but if you want to know how I’D do it—the easiest thing would be to get him trained up as a poltergeist! There’s three parts he’d have to learn: drawing more energy from his environment than he’s currently getting through passive processes; focusing it so he can telekinetically affect his environment; and finally, focusing it to visually and physically manifest a form for other people to see and touch. It’s essentially what I’m doing any time I step out of Hell, although I’m cheating: coming straight from Hell means I’m carrying enough Hellish energy with me that I don’t need to gather or focus any more, I’m fully solid from the outset. But it’s a skill that can be learned!”

He beams at Alexander. “You’re lucky you’ve got a focus for your energy, here! I’d hazard a guess that all this time you’ve been using what ambient energy you’ve picked up to help power it—but I bet it wouldn’t be too hard for you to use IT to help power YOU!”

This is all too exciting. The study of the interactions between spirits and electricity had only been going a few decades when Alastor died, and the topic is obviously irrelevant in Hell; what he’s proposing was supposedly possible even in his own time, but he can’t imagine what information might be available today.

Valera

Alexander twitches as Alastor's field brushes against his. It's an almost ticklish sensation, like almost but not quite touching something charged with static electricity. The moment passes, and he rubs at his arms. Could ghosts get goosebumps? It sure seemed so! Weird! Everyone he's met has been so strange and colorful, he'd hardly even thought about his own appearance. Immediately distracted, he starts looking for a mirror to check his hair in.

"Hm, I don't have any experience with poltergeists.." Valera's at a bit of a loss, narrowing her eyes as she squints at the two radios. Three radios? Does Alexander count as a separate entity from the radio? Gods, she should have taken the Mortals and Their Souls elective in school. She heaves a sigh. "Well! I hope you're willing to help teach him, Alastor, because otherwise I'm going to have to start doing _research_."

Alastor

“You and me both! Ha! Most of what I learned about poltergeists in life was how to get rid of them, imagine that. But! You know where ghosts end up once they’re got rid of! I’ll inquire around, see if there are any ex-poltergeists interested in sharing their tricks of the trade. If not, I’m sure the imps will know all about it.”

He beams at Alexander. “Oh, this is going to be fun. I haven’t had a reason to dip this deep into the occult since the sixties!”

Valera

"Oh that's marvelous. Thank the gods, the less I have to try and muddle through human focused occultism the better, it gets damnably frustrating trying to find books that aren't full of teenage angst and garbage." She sighs, taking her tea in hand and busying herself with draining the glass. That's ONE problem out of the way.

Alexander glances over, feeling eyes on him again, and offers Alastor his sunniest grin. He wasn't really following the conversation, but that doesn't matter when there's an obvious opening. "Don't leave us hanging, my good man! What happened in the sixties? Inquiring minds, and spirits, want to know!"

Alastor

“The first step is to get book recommendations from actual occultists.” Where is Valera picking up teenage angst?

Oh, Alastor is going to love this new guy, he follows up on the topics that Alastor leaves dangling. “A deep dive into angelology! Researching what sort of defenses Heaven has aside from being ridiculously high in the air—this was before rockets, you see, so we couldn’t just fly up and check—and trying to deduce any of the angels’ vulnerabilities.”

Valera

"Fair enough, I assume you knew a fair few back in your day?" Meet enough overly young heroes and some of them are going to write about their experiences while unfortunately being teens. Combination diary and field guides are the _worst._

Alexander BEAMS as Alastor speaks, the light on his radio dial glowing like a little beacon. "Fascinating stuff there, Alastor! I never even knew that was a field of research, shows what I know! Did you learn anything useful in your forays?" A pause. Wait. " You have rockets in Hell?"

Alastor

“A decent amount! I had a healthy circle of pen pals. None of them quite as successful as me, if I do say so myself—but that had less to do with their occult knowledge and more to do with their heads for business. All the symbols, herbs, and precious metals in the world won’t do you a lick of good if you don’t know how to make a deal with a demon.”

He’s gotten the inside about as clean as he feels safe to while the radio is still clearly *on*—there’s probably no way to fully turn it off as long as Alexander is connected to it, is there?—and starts on the outside. “In the living world, it probably isn’t one! Angelology in general, sure, but penetrating the gates of Heaven? Maybe in an ‘astral projection’ way, but certainly not a ‘breaking and entering’ way! I can’t say I picked up much of practical use, but...” He falters a moment before rallying. “The project I was researching it for fell through, so I abandoned it early with several research avenues unexplored.” Shrug.

For a moment he’s tempted to let Alexander think they DO have rockets. But then he bursts out laughing. “No, no, hah! I only meant that humanity in general has rockets, don’t we—and enough people with the know-how to make ‘em are in Hell by now. We *could* have rockets if we decided to. But we don’t have our act together enough for that—put together a list of everyone who could make it happen, and even the person at the very top of the list has priorities pointed very firmly elsewhere. Anyway, where would we go with them?”

Valera

"You can say that again. Though of course, my experience is decidedly _not_ from the mortal's side." A hum, and Valera leans in to take a peek at Alastor's work. "I knew you were the person for the job, that little darling is looking almost as good as new." A grin for his efforts, that's more than payment enough. That and getting to work on such a nice radio. Probably.

Alexander snickers, pressing a hand to his chest in mock dismay. "My goodness, you really had me going for a moment there, Alastor! I suppose there wouldn't really be anywhere to go, you're right! Though that does beg the question. How *does* Hell compare to all the biblical stories? I can't imagine it being all fire and brimstone if you're as well dressed and decidedly not prodded by pitchforks as you appear to be!"

Lowering her empty cup to the table, Valera flicks her eyes over to watch as Alexander quickly turns to try and pick up the teapot to offer a refill. Bless his dead little heart, he gave it a good shot even if all he managed was a slight rattling.

Alastor

Getting to work on such a nice radio is *absolutely* its own reward. “A professional could do something about the scuffs. And you definitely want somebody else to do something else about the last of the wax.” He rubs a thumb over the last little bumps stubbornly stuck on the wood. “I don’t think I can get the remains off without scuffing the wood.”

He tries to think back to what he was taught Hell was like before he saw the real thing. What had his first impressions been like? “Picture Dante’s Inferno. So you’ve got your rivers bile, your fields of icy mud, your endless hurricanes—but then dump a bunch of humans in it and assume they’re going to do what humans always do. We build cities and civilizations in scorching deserts, frozen tundras, and smothering jungles—and we do just the same in Hell. Sure enough, fire and brimstone is Hell’s natural, untrammeled state—but we’ve been trammeling all over the place for thousands of years by now! The native demons and fallen angels in charge are largely content to ease up on the pitchforks as long as our labors improve their standard of living, too.”

Alastor watches Alexander attempting to manipulate the teapot, then puts his hand on top of the radio and focuses on channeling as much of his own energy into the cathedral case as he can. “Try again now.”

Valera

"You can say that again. Though of course, my experience is decidedly _not_ from the mortal's side." A hum, and Valera leans in to take a peek at Alastor's work. "I knew you were the person for the job, that little darling is looking almost as good as new." A grin for his efforts, that's more than payment enough. That and getting to work on such a nice radio. Probably.

Alexander snickers, pressing a hand to his chest in mock dismay. "My goodness, you really had me going for a moment there, Alastor! I suppose there wouldn't really be anywhere to go, you're right! Though that does beg the question. How *does* Hell compare to all the biblical stories? I can't imagine it being all fire and brimstone if you're as well dressed and decidedly not prodded by pitchforks as you appear to be!"

Lowering her empty cup to the table, Valera flicks her eyes over to watch as Alexander quickly turns to try and pick up the teapot to offer a refill. Bless his dead little heart, he gave it a good shot even if all he managed was a slight rattling.

Alastor

Getting to work on such a nice radio is *absolutely* its own reward. “A professional could do something about the scuffs. And you definitely want somebody else to do something else about the last of the wax.” He rubs a thumb over the last little bumps stubbornly stuck on the wood. “I don’t think I can get the remains off without scuffing the wood.”

He tries to think back to what he was taught Hell was like before he saw the real thing. What had his first impressions been like? “Picture Dante’s Inferno. So you’ve got your rivers bile, your fields of icy mud, your endless hurricanes—but then dump a bunch of humans in it and assume they’re going to do what humans always do. We build cities and civilizations in scorching deserts, frozen tundras, and smothering jungles—and we do just the same in Hell. Sure enough, fire and brimstone is Hell’s natural, untrammeled state—but we’ve been trammeling all over the place for thousands of years by now! The native demons and fallen angels in charge are largely content to ease up on the pitchforks as long as our labors improve their standard of living, too.”

Alastor watches Alexander attempting to manipulate the teapot, then puts his hand on top of the radio and focuses on channeling as much of his own energy into the cathedral case as he can. “Try again now.”

Valera

"Fixing the wood? Not a problem. I just didn't trust anyone else with the internals!" She shrugs, seemingly content to lay back and idly listen as he explains the inevitable human nature of settling even the inhospitable lands of Hell. But the moment Alastor's powers are channeled, Valera stiffens, head swiveling to stare at where his hand at the radio meet as her fins flare out.

Alexander looks between Valera and Alastor, then down to his radio. You know what that reaction sounds like? None of his business! He nods, then carefully, carefully, picks up the teapot and pours a single cup of tea out with a look of utmost concentration. Once the teapot is safely back on the table and the cup is delivered into Valera's hands, and ONLY then, he shuffles back a few feet, looks around to make sure there's nothing breakable near him, and finally throws his arms in the air with a cheer. "Alastor! Whatever you did got me back on the trolley!"

Alastor

The motion catches Alastor's attention and he meets her gaze. Oh, hello? What's all *that* about?

But he doesn't get a chance to ask before Alexander is celebrating his triumph. Alastor switches his attention back to him, beaming. "Back on for the time being—although I'm afraid this trolley company makes you pay by the block and I essentially gave you one nickel. Still, it's proof of concept! You're powering your radio—and your radio can power you. This expands our options immensely!"

Valera

Scoffing while grinning ear to ear isn't something you see often, but Alexander is quick to wave off even minor pessimism with the cheeriest dismissal. "Bah, who cares about that! That's more interaction with my environment than I've managed since I died, I'll take this nickel as far as they'll let me." He pushes the teapot to the left, then the right, and then picks it up once more for good measure before moving to start carefully prodding at Valera, who tolerates it with the face of the family dog tolerating bratty kids yanking their fur.

Alastor

“I suppose five blocks is exciting if it’s the first time you’ve been allowed on the trolley,” he says dryly; then, while Alexander is distracted, he gives Valera an inquiring look. He’s not going to ask Valera about their reaction to his magic while Alexander is around, but he wants them to know he *noticed* and he’s *going* to as soon as he has a chance.

Valera

Valera looks at Alastor, giving him the most innocent stare they can manage with those big ole eyes... And then snorts, shakes their head, and gives a thumbs up. Yeah, yeah. Quiz them later, radio deerman.

Looking back to Alexander and his prodding hands, Valera finally hauls herself up to cheerfully clap her hands together. "Well! This has been lovely, but I think that's enough excitement for the day. We've both got new projects to get to, and the sooner we sort this fellow out the better!"

Alastor

“I think you’re right! Happy I could offer my assistance.” He offers a hand to Alexander. “And a pleasure to meet you, my good sir!”

Valera

Alexander pauses in his prodding to take Alastor's hand in both of his, giving it a firm shake. "I hope I'll see you again, Alastor! Even if we can't figure out how to help me, meeting a fellow radio enthusiast of your caliber is more than worth being stuck in an attic for so long!"

Alastor

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find a way!” And a firm shake back. “And even if not, I’ll be visiting from time to time anyway, never you fear.”

Valera

Val would ask if that was a threat or a promise, but she isn't really sure she wants to know. A portal is prepared in short order, one wall of the sitting room turning a familiar inky black as she rises from the couch. She does, however, make a point to look Alastor dead in the eyes as she speaks her goodbye. "I'll see you in Hell, Alastor."

Alastor

It’s only a threat if Valera finds his presence threatening.

“Imminently, or eventually?” He *does* still want to find out what that Look was about.

Valera

She grins, ignoring Alexander as he quietly oohs and aahs over the portal. "Eventually! I'll be there tonight or tomorrow, depending on wherever Penny decides to sleep, but who knows when you'll actually _see_ me there."

Alastor

“Well, track me down to talk when you can.” An unnecessarily dramatic half-bow and he steps through the portal.

Carefully. He doesn’t know what angle he’s going to emerge at.