#i was like no!! no!! but he's so funny!!!!!! and the second he showed up in game again i started taking screenshots of me n the bestieee

[hhughes]

Doing the “I’m gonna sleep at my place tonight” with jack

ᡴꪫ ࣪ ݂ stopppp , you just know he’d be so pouty about this 😭

you’d just be chilling on the couch, like any other regular friday. some show softly in the background that neither of you are really paying attention to.

you’re scrolling on tiktok, your legs resting in jack’s lap as he gently caresses your calves. every now and then you’ll show him a funny video, and he’ll show you some bizarre thing one of the guys sent him.

“I think I’m gonna sleep at my place tonight” you announce casually and jack’s fingers immediately halt their caress as he glances up at you

“what?” he asks softly, locking his phone and throwing it down next to him as he turns his full attention towards you.

“i’m gonna sleep at my place tonight” you say again, already struggling to keep a straight face

“why?” he pouts slightly, looking down for a second as he fiddles with a little thread on your pants

“i’m gonna do some laundry. take an everything shower. I just wanna sleep in my own bed” you shrug and jack’s frown deepens

“I have all your products here tho don’t I? I swear I stocked up on everything just the other day. even those little cherry scented bath bombs you like” he mumbles, glancing at you, trying to keep his tone casual

“you did?” you ask, tone affectionate at how thoughtful he was

“yeah. so you can take your everything shower here. and you can do your laundry here too if you want. i’ll even help you fold afterwards” he says with a smirk that you know all too well

“you just want an excuse to get your hands on my panties” you tease and jack laughs

“I don’t need an excuse baby” he grins, hands sneaking to the waistband of your pants and you squeal as he pulls you onto his lap, hands tracing the edge of your panties as he presses kisses to your neck

“c’mon please. I don’t wanna sleep without you tonight. we can still go to yours if you want, as long as I can come with” he says softly, resting his chin on your chest as he looks up at you

“I was just kidding jacky. we can stay here” you assure him, pressing gentle kisses all over his face

[eunandonly]

HOW BOYNEXTDOOR LOVES YOU

how boynextdoor shows their love for you, even if it isn't always by words

( 対 ) boynextdoor + fem. reader 1230WC · tooth rotting fluff contains! skinship, kissing so cheesy holy sharts / archive

은 : sorry for posting so late >< i've been so busy lately because of exams and couldn't post, but i'm back now ^^ i hope you enjoy ~

myung jaehyun

with myung jaehyun, love isn’t just quiet care. it’s a bit like him; bubbly and playful. he’ll throw his jacket over you with a little joke and a smile that warms you up more than the jacket itself, winking as he pulls the lapels up dramatically to keep you protected from the cold wind. 

he notices things, even if he pretends not to. “you’re holding your bag funny. give it to me.” he’ll say, taking it from you before you can even protest. it doesn’t matter if it weighs a ton. jaehyun will carry it for you.

on rainy days when you two are sharing an umbrella, he’ll tilt it to your side so you’re protected from the raindrops even as his side gets drenched in rainwater. when you try to tilt the umbrella back to him, or tell him to get under it properly, he’ll just smile and say, “i like the rain.” before giving you a peck on the cheek.

and with all this, jaehyun never expects anything in return. jaehyun gives his love without expectation or demand because, well, he loves you.

park sungho

sungho could listen to you talk forever. whatever nonsense you say, whatever irrelevant thing you’re rambling about, if it’s you, it becomes poetry to park sungho. 

sungho remembers the smallest details about you. he remembers the way you take your coffee, the name of the book you once mentioned during a conversation, the exact shade of the sky on the day you first said “i love you.”

sometimes, he even remembers the things you forget; the date of your childhood hamster’s birthday, the lyrics to a song you used to hum under your beeath as you busied yourself in the kitchen- which he took the time to figure out what song it exactly was so he could play it for you on the guitar one day- the way you scrunch your nose when you’re deep in thought. some people say these random bits and pieces of you are useless, but sungho keeps them close, storing the, in the quiet corners of his mind to pull out when the time is just right.

“you like this one, right?” sungho will say, handing you a drink exactly the way you like it. “you wanted to watch this movie,” he’ll murmur as he turns on a film you mentioned briefly weeks ago. “you always sleep better when it rains,” he’ll say, opening a window when the first drops hit the pavement.

park sungho says your name like it’s the most beautiful word in the world. it’s not just a name to him, it’s much more than that. 

lee sanghyuk

riwoo often reaches for you without realising. his fingers brush yours when you’re walking side by side, barely a whisper of his warm skin against yours, but enough to make your breath hitch. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind our ear absentmindedly during conversations, his touch light as if he’s handling delicate glass.

riwoo doesn’t even notice how often he does it. how his body naturally gravitates towards yours like second nature. when you’re laughing, he leans in just a little closer. you have a pretty laugh. when you’re focused on something, his hand settles on your wrist.

riwoo’s actions aren’t calculated. they’re not meant to fluster you. it’s simply how he is. his the type of person whose love is felt in the warmth of his palm against you break as he guides you through the door, in the way his knee knocks against yours under the table, in the way his drapes his arm around you.

sometimes when riwoo realises, it's different. the moment he realises that his fingers linger too long, that his touch isn’t just habit but something more, he hesitates. his eyes flicking to yours to make sure you’re not uncomfortable in any way. when he gets your reassurance, he shakes off any doubt with a small smile, his hand staying where it is.

han dongmin

taesan’s love is found in ink stained fingers and the way his lyrics always seem to sound like you. he doesn’t always say it outright, it’s not always blatantly there. but if you listen carefully, you’re woven into every song, every notes, every unfinished berse scribbled in the margins of his notebook.

maybe taesan doesn’t say “i love you” in the way others. but he’ll give you pieces of himself in a song, in a melody, in the esy his voice and eyes soften when he sings the lines that remind him of you.

when you can’t sleep in late hours of the night, taesan will sing you to sleep with a new song he worked on earlier that day, smiling down at you fondly as you doze off to his soft voice.

it’s taesan’s way of showing you love. he might not be the best and telling you exactly how much he loves you with words, but his music says enough for you to know. the lyrics that are always referencing you in one way or another, the melody that sounds a bit too much like your pretty laugh. he writes about late night talks and your pretty eyes, the way the silence between you two are comforting instead of lonely.

kim donghyun

leehan’s love for you is found in the way he looks at you- like you hold the stars in your hands, like you’re the only person existing in the vast universe. his gaze lingers a second too long, that moment always filled with unspoken words that can’t quite be translated into words.

it’s the way leehan’s pretty eyes soften when you talk, the way he watches you even when you’re not looking, memorising each and every detail of your face. he thinks you’re the best thing that ever happened to him, and he can’t help but admire you.

you’ll sometimes feel a gaze locked on you when you’re busy with something- cooking, studying, you name it. and when you turn, it’ll be leehan, staring at you with soft eyes and a gentle smile that only holds fondness. seeing you flustered from his gaze only makes him watch you more, smile widening when your cheeks turn pimk as you pretend you didn’t see him staring at you like that.

when you finally meet leehan’s gaze, when you finally catch the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters, you’ll understand just how much leehan loves you, even if it’s done quietly.

kim woonhak

woonhak’s love for you is found in laughter, the kind that leaves you breathless with a pain on your side, the kind that turns even the worst days into something bearable.

woonhak’s the person who notices when you’re quiet with tired eyes and a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. instead of asking what’s wrong and focing out words you don’t have, he nudges you with his shoulder, makes a ridiculous face and cracks the woest joke you’ve ever heard since you existed.

and somehow, somehow, it works.

perhaps the joke is so terrible, it made you laugh, or maybe it’s just that face woonhak made, but it gets a smile out of you. and that’s all he needs. 

woonhak always seems to know what you need. and when you laugh, the weight lifting just a little, he smiles like he’s gotten the whole world. 

well, to woonhak, he has.

[writeriguess]

Can you write a katsuki x female reader where he's jealous because he realises Kiri has a crush on you. Reader doesn't know about katsuki's feelings.

Burning Red

Katsuki wasn’t the type to get jealous. At least, that’s what he told himself. He was confident, strong, the best in everything he did—so why the hell would he care about something as stupid as feelings?

But then there was you.

You, with that infuriatingly bright smile, your dumb jokes that weren’t even that funny but still made his lips twitch, the way you always stood next to him during training even though he pretended not to care. You’d been in his life long enough that he got used to having you around, used to the way his heart stuttered in his chest whenever you ruffled his hair and called him "Bakugou" in that casual, teasing way.

What he wasn’t used to was Kirishima looking at you like that.

At first, he ignored it. Convinced himself he was imagining things. Kirishima was just friendly, that’s all. He treated everyone with that same kind of warmth. But then Katsuki noticed the way Kirishima’s eyes softened around you. How he always made sure you had a seat next to him during lunch, how he conveniently showed up whenever you needed help with your hero studies, and how his hand hovered near yours like he was just waiting for the right moment to grab it.

That’s when it hit him. Like a sucker punch straight to the gut.

Kirishima had a crush on you.

And that realization sent Katsuki spiraling into something he refused to name.

—

The breaking point came on a normal Friday after training. You and Kirishima were sitting on the common room couch, laughing over something on your phone. Katsuki was in the kitchen, pretending to get water but really just watching the two of you from the corner of his eye.

Kirishima was way too close.

His arm was slung over the back of the couch, his knee barely an inch from yours. Katsuki watched the way Kirishima grinned at you, how you nudged him with your elbow, playfully rolling your eyes. And then—you laughed. That real, unguarded laugh, the one that made your whole face light up.

Something ugly twisted in Katsuki’s chest.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he was moving. Striding across the room with sharp, purposeful steps.

“Oi, shitty hair,” he snapped.

Kirishima blinked up at him. “Huh?”

Katsuki crossed his arms, standing right in front of the couch like an immovable wall. “Aren’t you late for training?”

Kirishima tilted his head. “No? We just finished—”

“You sure?” Katsuki cut him off, his voice low, almost a growl.

There was a pause. Kirishima glanced at him, then at you, and then back at Katsuki. A flicker of understanding passed over his expression.

“Oh. Uh—yeah, I should go. Forgot about something,” Kirishima said, scratching the back of his head as he stood up. He shot you a small smile before heading toward the dorms.

You watched him go, then turned to Katsuki with narrowed eyes. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

“What was what?” He refused to meet your gaze, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You just chased Kirishima away like some territorial guard dog,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You jealous or something?”

The words were meant as a joke, lighthearted and teasing, but Katsuki froze.

For a split second, he was completely still. No sharp retort, no scoff or insult. Just… silent.

Your breath caught.

Then, before you could process it, he scoffed—too harsh, too forced. “Tch. As if.”

But you saw it. The way his jaw clenched. The way his fingers twitched at his sides. The way the tips of his ears were turning red.

You had no idea what to do with that.

[w2soneshots]

Valentine -W2S

words: 1.0k+

warnings: none, just fluff!

summary: you and Harry spend a wholesome valentines day together.

notes: hello my loves! I’m single af so here’s a cute little fic I wrote with my fav British boy to make me feel better😌🫶🏼. Enjoy!!✨

Liked by wroetoshaw, taliamar and others

y/username: happy Valentine's Day💌

-comments-

wroetoshaw: sneaky

-> y/username: took my chance while you were distracted by the sweets🤗

faithloisak: gorgeous as always

-> y/username: I 💗 U

y/nfanpage21: balloons AND flowers! my girls living the dream🥹🤍

user: ugh, they're disgustingly cute

I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was red heart shaped balloons. I looked around for Harry but he was nowhere to be found. I was extremely confused for a second before I remembered that it was valentine's day.

Just a few minutes later Harry walked into our bedroom holding a tray. "Good morning love," he greeted with a bright smile before placing it in my lap. The tray had pancakes covered in fresh fruit, a coffee and a card tucked into the side.

I looked up at him. "Thank you. Happy valentines day baby." Harry smiled then leaned down and we shared a quick kiss.

After eating the food, which was delicious, I opened the card. On the front it read, "you're a bit of a twat, but you're my twat." with read hearts surrounding the letters. "Very funny," I mumbled through laughter.

Inside the card was a different story. He wrote, "to y/n. I love you so much I don't think I could live without you (so you better not leave me!)," I giggled as he sat patiently waiting for me to read. I continued, "we have a special dinner at 7 so be ready to get your hands dirty. Love Harry."

"That was so sweet." I set the card on my nightstand and moved over to hug him. "Okay, wait there. Lemme go get your card from me!" I called as I cheerfully made my way into our wardrobe where I'd hidden everything.

I returned just a minute later with a gift bag. "Ooo, what's this...?" Harry inquired as I plonked myself down next to him and passed him the bag. "Open it and see!"

Harry was quick to fling the tissue paper across the room and look inside. "Ah! This is sick!" He looked at me with the cutest and brightest smile. He pulled out the special addition supreme jumper that he's had his eye on.

It wasn't super cute or wholesome like most valentines gifts but he's impossible to buy for so I didn't have many options.

"How the fuck did you manage to get this?" He asked, "it's been sold out everywhere!" I chuckled as he admired it. "I have my ways..."

A few hours later we decided it'd be fun to go and see the movie we've been wanting to watch in the cinema. We both got dressed into some comfy clothes and headed out.

On our way we stopped off at a shop to get some snacks since they're always extremely overpriced in the cinema and Harry loves a bargain. "Which one do you want? Actually... I'll just get all of 'em," he said as he looked at the selection of sweets. I giggled when he stood up with an excessive amount of them in the basket.

After watching the movie we stopped off for some lunch and then spontaneously decided to go bowling since we walked past the place on our way home.

wroetoshaw posted a new story!

"Beat ya!" I smiled when the final scores registered on the board. "By like... two points," Harry huffed. "Don't be a sore loser baby," I teased with a smirk then leaned into him to press a kiss to his lips. "Alright alright," he chuckled, "let's go home."

We walked back to our apartment building, hand in hand. The sun was setting and the air was surprisingly warm for February, in London. I breathed out a content sigh and leaned my head on his shoulder when we finally got into the lift.

"Hungry?" Harry asked me a little while later, while we sat on our couch with a random show playing on the tv, that we definitely weren't paying attention to.

"Mhm," I hummed. He jumped up. "Well, we're makin' pizza!" he said excitedly, "you coming petal?" I cocked my head to the side in surprise. "Oh, Haz. How romantic," I replied with a smile and followed him into the kitchen.

He took his time making the dough while I prepared the sauce and grated the cheese. Just as I was pouring the sauce into a pot I felt a puff of flour cover my shirt.

"Ah! Absolutely not!" I giggled before quickly gathering some in the palm of my hand and blowing it straight into his face. He coughed out a laugh. "Jesus Christ woman!"

He rolled out his pizza into a misshapen circle while I made mine into a cute little heart. We then covered it in tomato sauce, sprinkled on the cheese and added any last toppings.

y/username posted a new story!

After popping our masterpieces into the oven we sat back on the sofa with our drinks of choice and waited patiently for them to finish cooking.

"Mmm... this was one of the best ideas you've ever had," I murmured happily with a mouth full of pizza. "I know. I'm a genius, what can I say." I shook my head as I giggled at his sarcastic cockiness.

"You ready for bed love?" He asked as I yawned. I nodded slowly. I closed my eyes for just a second and before I could even process what was happening I was being lifted into the air, fireman style.

I leaned into my boyfriend's chest and exhaled deeply. He set me down on our bed gently. "I'm just gonna go take a shower. I'll be back in a minute to get into bed with you. Good night, I love you and happy Valentine's Day," he whispered with a kiss to my forehead before I drifted off with a soft smile on my lips.

[rottenpumpkin13]

I find it so hilarious that due to the shenanigans that happens in the tower, since mayor Domino has a security cameras everywhere, I can't imagine the things he sees and they're all funny as hell.

Out Of Context Things Mayor Domino Has Witnessed Through Security Cameras:

• Sephiroth, poised and disciplined, strolling through the SOLDIER floor calmly. Until he abruptly pivots into a broom closet, where the security feed catches a single, deafening "FUCK!" He then emerges, perfectly composed, like nothing happened.

• Reeve Tuesti, at 3 AM, roaming the halls in a full-body cat onesie, shaking two pill bottles like maracas.

• Zack sprinting full-speed down the hallway, screaming bloody murder. Moments later, Angeal appears in hot pursuit, wielding a buzzing electric toothbrush like a weapon, dental floss clutched in his other hand like he's about to lasso a runaway horse.

• Reno, walking at his usual lazy pace, cigarette in mouth, completely unbothered—until he spots a Sephiroth cardboard cutout in the hallway. He immediately looks left, looks right, then leans in and kisses it way too passionately before walking off like nothing happened.

• Genesis dramatically recounting gossip on the phone, gesturing wildly. Mayor Domino didn't catch the full story, but the part he did hear went "And then she slathered the honey on her breasts, which INFURIATED him, which is why he quit veganism. But that's unrelated to why he beat up his cousin with a block of salami."

• Rude, entering an elevator alone. No words, no hesitation. He reaches into his blazer pocket, pulls out a perfectly styled wig, and wears it for the entire elevator ride, staring straight ahead. The second the doors open, he removes it and pockets it again.

• Hours upon hours of footage of Lazard flipping off President Shinra every time he thinks no one's watching. Mayor Domino has seen so much of this footage that he printed out screenshots and made a mosaic collage of Lazard's middle fingers. It's framed in his office.

• Tseng caught on camera standing completely still in the break room, drinking coffee, when Reno enters and opens the fridge. Without breaking eye contact, Tseng casually says "That pudding is mine." Reno, unfazed, takes the pudding out. Tseng calmly draws a gun.

• Zack jumping from the ceiling vents, dusting himself off. Then he looks back up, spreads his arms wide, and coos "Come on, buddy, I got you! It's okay!" Mayor Domino expected a human. Maybe Cloud Strife. Instead, a giant rat leaped from the vents, lovingly into Zack's arms.

• Genesis, striding down the hallway, suddenly stopping. His gaze lands on a fire alarm. He stares at it. Long. Hard. The security feed shows him sighing deeply, pulling a religious book from his coat, and reading a verse about temptation aloud. Then, with a satisfied nod, he smooths his coat, flips his hair, and walks away. Exactly one minute later, he comes sprinting back, yanks the fire alarm, and flees the scene.

• Angeal, in the break room, just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet. The door swings open. Cait Sith waddles in cheerfully. "A good day tae be alive ain't it, lad? Ye know, in th' grand scheme o' things, assassinating President Shinra would be a real power move!" Angeal bursts into laughter—unhinged, exhausted laughter—like a man finally breaking under the weight of his reality. Still chuckling, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out a bottle of sleep meds, pops two like they're breath mints, and leans back against the chair.

• Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis standing before the training room doors. This was after Lazard banned them after their last "incident." The security feed shows them hijacking the access panel, bypassing the lock, and triumphantly striding inside. Exactly ten seconds later, the doors reopen. All three exit with their hands in the air. Escorting them out is Lazard, shotgun in hand.

• Zack and Cloud enter an elevator together, alone. The doors close. The security feed catches Zack saying: "Now that we're alone… you know what we can do, right?" Domino thinks he might need to avert his eyes. But then, without hesitation, Zack clambers into Cloud's arms like a toddler.

• Sephiroth and Hojo, approaching each other from opposite hallways. They're destined to meet at the corner. Until they don't. The footage clearly shows Sephiroth stopping mid-stride, eyes narrowing. He has sensed something. A disturbance. Evil. The next second, he yeets himself out a nearby window.

[fizzing-imagines]

You're the Only | Eddie Munson x Reader

Notes:

Words: 985

Warnings: Drunk Eddie

As much as you loves your husband, you never minded some hours to yourself in the apartment. You could watch any movie you wanted, do a face mask and paint your toenails in complete silence. No metal music from the kitchen, or horror movies. You really loved your husband Eddie, but everyone needs time to themselves occasionally.

Eddie was at Gareth's bachelor party. Since he was the last one to get married from the band, it was a given that they were gonna drink a lot and come home late. You didn't mind, you knew he'd always come home to you. Eddie's love for you could be compared to that of a puppy, although he'd never admit to that.

You two had your ups and downs. The relationship started wobbly, but you two managed as a team and he came to not imagine a life without you.

It really showed today. Just as you were putting away the wineglass you had used for your self-care night, the door opened. Or at least you heard several tries and frustrated groans until a big Flopp sound made you look out the kitchen door.

Eddie was face-down on the floor, with his feet still in the door. He'd never been this drunk, not that you can remember, but it looked a bit funny. Especially when he started crawling foward to close the door with his foot. Once it shut with a loud Thump sound, he kept laying flat on the ground and groaned to himself.

"Hey baby, you need help getting up?", you asked while putting your hand on his arm.

"Please don't touch me Ma'am, I'm married.", he mumbled with his eyes closed while holding his hand up. With a small wiggle of his fingers, he showed off his wedding ring. Eddie may have been drunk enough to still think he was out with his friends.

"I think you still need help getting up.", you continued and tried to get your arms hooked under his armpit for support. "I have a wife!", he grumbled, a bit louder this time. "Right, sorry sir.", you told him while letting go carefully. "Just yell for help if you need any." He waved you off with his hand, weakly so, and kept laying on your carpet floor. At this stage, it was a miracle that he hasn't thrown up yet.

So you went on with what you were doing. Cleaning in the living room, putting the dishes away, rearranging the pillow you laid on for hours while watching The Nanny. Occasionally, you'd check on your husband in the hallway, but he kept laying there without moving. As long as he was still breathing, he'd be fine.

You changed into your pyjamas in the bathroom and walked towards Eddie for one last attempt to get him to bed. "Let me help you up, come on Eds."

"I'm a married man, lady.", he grumbled. "Stop harassing me, my beautiful wife can help me." Eddie put his hand up and wiggled with his fingers again, showing you his ring that way. It was just as adorable as it was stupid. "You're married?", you asked him. How could you not ask him that while he was in this state?

"Yes Ma'am, I love my wife very much and she's beautiful.", he mumbled.

"Do you have kids?", you continued. This time, he was a bit quieter than before. "Not yet. I'll give her a whole litter if she wants." It was too bad that he wouldn't let you touch him right now. More than anything, you wanted to kiss him at this very second.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?", you asked one last time.

"No.", he bluntly said.

"Okay sir, call if you need anything."

"I need my wife, leave me alone." That made you chuckle, although you tried your best to stiffle it with your hand.

"Okay, good night."

The only thing you didn't like was not falling asleep next to Eddie. After a lifelong friendship, 7 year relationship and 4 years of marriage, you just got used to that. But since he's sleeping in the hallway, it's bearable while hugging the teddy bear Eddie gave you for your first Valentines Day together.

You were already drowsy and slowly falling asleep when the bedroom door opened. Once you turned, you saw your husband stumbling in. "Darlin'.", he slurred before plopping on the bed like he did earlier on your carpet floor. "I'm back home, I missed you." Now he recognised you again? You sat up in bed and saw him still wearing his clothes from going out.

"Eddie, take your shoes off.", you mumbled. Two small thud sounds could be heard from the other side of the bed. It took him a while, but eventually he was next to you and had you in his arms. It wasn't until then that you smelled the booze coming off of him. "Some weird lady touched me.", he mumbled. It made you giggle a bit. "Did she now?" He nodded almost theatrically. "I told her I have a wife, don't worry, baby." You giggled and leaned against his chest, where you heard Eddies beating heart thumping like he just finished a marathon.

"You're my only one.", he continued. "Can I have a kiss?"

"You smell like beer, maybe tomorrow.", you replied. He huffed at that and pouted a bit. "Please?" How could you resist that face? "A quick one.", you agreed. A quick peck turned into a more heated kiss, but you broke it off before anything more could happen. From drunken nights out together, you knew he didn't perform well in this state. Plus, you didn't wanna do that while one of you was sober.

While he still grumbled, Eddie cuddled a bit closer before drifting to sleep and snorring like a bear.

It really was a miracle that you fell asleep like that.

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! young!serial killer grandpa & time traveler reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Mentions of violence, murder, serial killings, Everett's superiority/god complex, misanthropy (hatred of the human race), manipulation, possessive behavior, mental instability, and there might be more that i forgot :( if i missed a major one, please let me know and i'll add it !!!

additional notes; i read "garden of the dead flowers" a while back (in which i totally did the daily pass thing. yeah. totally!), and i thought it had a lot of potential for a platonic yan,, i didn't like the ending much for other reasons, but i'm fixing it here. with my oc. as god intended, of course. of course, if you're familiar with the webcomic at all, this isn't really that similar; except for the very core basis ^^ this is the option that won the second poll :D

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Everett has met a lot of people before, that's just how it is, being the son of a wealthy businessman and a socialite. He's met a lot of strange people as well, eccentric people that makes Everett need a double-take.

But none quite so strange as you, who simply... showed up in the back garden one day. You were disoriented, wearing odd clothes as you patted around your pockets for... something. A handkerchief, maybe?

Either way, you'd be an easy kill. He'd never seen you around before, perhaps a runaway then. Nobody would miss you, in that case. And If they did, then they'd have a difficult time tracing you all the way to Everett's backyard.

But something made that train of thought stop before it even fully departed. Something about you made him hesitate, and subsequently approach and offer you help. To pull you up, dazed as you were, and help you into the sitting room.

You continued to be quite out of it, and when he returned, tea in hand-- you took it without question. You hadn't said a word, not to him or otherwise. All you did was look around, face pinched like you trying to figure something out.

By the end of it, Everett isn't quite sure what made him take such a liking to you. When you opened up, you tripped over your words-- you sounded funny, regardless of that. Saying words and phrases he's never heard, but he didn't pay much mind to that.

Regardless of your little verbal stumbles, you ended up telling him that you 'don't know how you got here', which he assumed you meant the town in general, or maybe just his backyard specifically.

The first conversation he genuinely held with you, you would always give these nonsensical answers that provided no more knowledge than before. When he asked "Where are you from?" You'd respond with "Not here.", or how you got here-- you'd always pause, and try to think it over before finally settling on "...I don't know."

Amnestic, maybe? That's what he could make of it, anyways. Other than your dazed behavior, you showed no real signs of a concussion. He set you up in a guest room-- and he doesn't know what makes him do it. Even as you wake up the next morning, no longer so confused--

Usually, he wouldn't really like people like you. Those who treat him so casually, those who treat everybody like that; like they were everybody's pal. It irked Everett to no end before,

So why is it different when you do it? With your strange words, strange habits, and even stranger way of dress-- what's got him so interested in you?

What sets you apart of his usual fare--? He could go and argue that he helped you recover so he could add you to his roster of victims, because he's not one for kicking someone when their down...

But he couldn't even fool himself with that lie. Really, he doesn't know why or how you managed to worm your way into his good graces so quickly-- enough where he let you stay in his home for the time being.

He could be harboring a runaway, either from a family or maybe even if the law. That could put him in risk, if cops come looking for you-- find his home, found evidence of what he does in and around it.

Again, it's just something about you... It makes it impossible to even think of driving a knife straight through your heart. What would be easy for him with everyone else, was like fighting an uphill battle when it came to you.

Either way, he's not letting you go now. Not after week of getting to know you-- after getting you new clothes to help fit in, getting his parents to make the school take you as a student. Just so you didn't have to sit and rot in that big house all day, of course.

He won't let you outside the grounds. Maybe because he doesn't want his new friend taken, the only person that's been entirely immune to his constant need to hurt others-- either by yourself, or anyone who's looking for you.

But he doesn't tell you that. He says he just wants to make sure you're healthy and not about to keel over from an untreated brain injury and whatnot.

Everett has grown quite fond of you, even if you're a little strange.

Maybe it's because you're so strange, that you're exempt from his usually unforgiving drive to prey on others, and rip them limb from limb like they were bugs under a microscope.

[syndrossi]

It started funny, then went a bit contemplative, as I often do...

x~x~x

The second time Aegon spilled his wine cup, this time in his haste to pass Aemma the butter she had asked for, she shot Rhaella a look from across the table. Aemond hadn’t spilled yet, but he seemed to have made supper a competition with his brother yet again, offering her sister portions of every nearby dish—including those that were well within her reach.

Rhaella’s patience was impressive. Aemma didn’t think she could have repeated variations on “no, thank you” more than twice without her irritation beginning to show.

“I trust the ride back from Runestone was pleasant?” Aegon asked.

The wine had been sopped up by the servant who had swooped in before it could spill over the edge of the table, and he seemed to have recovered his dignity—not that he had much to begin with.

“Runestone was pleasant,” Aemma said, already missing it. Being welcomed by the chaos and stink of King’s Landing had made her want to turn Shadow around and fly right back, but her father still had a love of it and she did not want to deny him his home.

“I could fly there,” Aegon said eagerly. “You and Rhaella must meet Sunfyre.”

The last part was spoken particularly loudly, and Aemond’s head turned in his brother’s direction, mouth drawing into a scowl. With Aegon having claimed his dragon while they were in Runestone, and Helaena two years before, Aemond and Daeron were the two siblings left without.

Aemma made the appropriate noises of interest, gazing morosely down at her plate. It would be a long supper, she knew, and with Rhaella entertaining Aemond and their father embroiled in conversation with the king—though he glanced at them occasionally—her fate was most assuredly sealed.

x~x~x

There was no escaping their cousins, Aemma soon found to her dismay. Gone were the pleasant, quiet suppers with their father in their apartments within the holdfast. When they were not supping with Princess Rhaenyra and her sons, they were forced to attend the king’s table. Only when they arrived early could she and Rhaella seat themselves as best they could to avoid being trapped. Often that meant suffering the queen’s presence, but at least they had Helaena to talk with.

At the yard, their archery was constantly interrupted—and not merely by their cousins. Squires crowded the range, seeking to distract or on occasion embarrass themselves trying to match their skill. On those days, their cousins were like jealous terriers, yapping at the other boys.

“How could they possibly know that we’ve flowered?” Aemma complained afterward, in the refuge that their apartments had become.

“It is more that we have breasts now,” Rhaella said, glancing down at the small swell of her bosom. “And we are not yet formally betrothed, yet we are nearing the age where such arrangements are made.”

Aemma had done her best thus far to avoid thinking about the messy business of matches. In her life before, it had only just become relevant once the Others had been defeated, when Dany had begun hinting that as her heir, Jon would be expected to make an appropriate match, but there had still been battles to win.

Now, she had Runestone, and the boys tripping over one another for her favor were second and third sons with ambitions of ruling Runestone themselves. In some ways, their mother had been extraordinarily lucky that their father could not stand Runestone. She had been left alone to rule in peace.

It was not that Aemma didn’t want a family someday. But there were a great many problems to solve first, and having to nurse the ego of a slighted husband while doing so did not appeal.

“Who would you want to marry, if you had your pick?”

Her sister’s eyes held that calm intensity that often served as a balm when Aemma was working herself into a frenzy. She halted her pacing and tried to give the question the consideration it deserved.

“Certainly not our cousins,” she said.

Aegon was unbearably self-centered and even worse, lazy. Back when she had been his age and boy, she had made the mistake of drinking too much sweet wine, but it was a daily occurrence with Aegon. He is constantly indulged by his flock of admirers, and he has embraced such indulgences.

Aemond was no better a prospect, prone to jealousy and rage, though at least he applied himself. Aemma was the match that Otto Hightower desired for him—she knew that much from overhearing their father’s furious argument with the king a few years ago. To his credit, Aemond seemed to admire their martial pursuits, rather than view them as a flaw, but that was as much as she was willing to concede.

Rhaenyra’s sons were less abhorrent, but they still seemed so young. She knew that three or four years was not a huge gap, especially not when they were older, but ten-year-old Jace was very much a child still. And she knew that Rhaenyra dearly wanted Rhaella for him.

“I do not know,” Aemma said, flopping back onto their bed, muddy boots and all. “Perhaps I can follow our mother’s example and not wed until I am an old maid.”

At least at twenty-two her rule would be well-established and she would have those years to focus on the looming succession crisis—and the distant threat in Volantis.

“What of you?” she asked, craning her neck to look at Rhaella.

Her sister frowned, the expression absurdly beautiful. Rather than make her look sullen, it lent her an air of melancholy. Aemma did not know why the suitors were so evenly split between them when they had Rhaella to sigh over.

“Jace would be a kind husband,” her sister said.

“But?” Aemma prompted, bringing in her knees so that she could unlace her boots.

Rhaella shook her head, her stare at the bed far-away. “When you are queen—your life is not your own. Your body is not your own.”

Aemma’s namesake had been butchered for the potential heir in her belly. And Rhaella’s had been beaten and locked away, forced to carry half a dozen children who would never see their first year, only to die birthing her final child at Dragonstone.

Rhaella’s shrug was almost despondent. “I would like to marry someone like Daemon, I suppose.”

Aemma understood what she meant—someone who would love her. Who would go to war for her. As Rhaegar warred for Lyanna? Aemma blinked the thought away, the reverse parallels too dizzying to entertain for more than a second.

“You do not have to marry,” Aemma said. “You can stay with me at Runestone.”

Rhaella leaned in to kiss her on the temple, pulling back with a wry smile. “I believe that is Aemond’s fantasy. Except that we are both his wives.”

They both pulled a face, and Aemma swung back into a sitting position. “I simply wish to be able to use the training yard without being besieged by admirers.”

Rhaella’s smile turned devious. “There is a way.”

Aemma raised a brow.

“We invite our father to train with us.”

“I don’t wish them dead,” Aemma protested, but she had to admit that the notion had its appeals.

“A mere maiming should serve as ample deterrence,” Rhaella said serenely.

[multiheadcanons]

THE GOOFIEST SONGS I ASSOCIATE WITH THE MERCS

scout: frankly all of the offense classes get the same song, but it’s the muppet cypher hosted by the stupendium and it’s seven minutes long with multiple artists so guess what it’s all different songs to me today. and they all get this cypher because all three of these dumbasses are muppets in human form. scout definitely gets rizzo’s verse because if nathan didn’t exist skull from jt music is my canon voice for scout. also, “you can leave it to me to put the rat in the race”? “any kind of fourth wall i will happily break”?? dude that’s scout! that IS scout!

soldier: the second dumbass human muppet. y’all know he’s actually sam eagle in human form, right? so sam eagle’s entire verse is indeed soldier. down to the blatant misinformation in the verse because he’s just fucking stupid. i can just hear soldier saying the entire verse word for word as a monologue. “a bunch of weirdos and nerdies”. i bet he does call his teammates nerds. i know he does. the second they show anything more than like, a moderate amount of excitement he’s like wow… what a major nerd. i live and work with major weirdos and nerds.

pyro: the third dumbass human muppet. definitely gonzo the great’s verse, and literally what made me think of this entire post. if only because of the killer lyric combo of “am i he? am i she? am i omnigender? check none of the above, love, i’m whatever” (which is literally just a smooth ass, dope ass lyric and so very real and relatable) and “nobody’s gonna be telling me what is and isn’t canon” because actually yes pyro is my little doodle doll that i doodle on and go “hehe. nice.” and some days pyro is a dragon and other days pyro is a capybara and on the holidays they’re a faerie but really what pyro is is whatever i want them to be on any given day at any given moment. and nobody’s gonna be telling me what is and isn’t canon. honestly the whole cypher eats definitely go give it a listen.

demoman: i just have a question— are your lips dry? i think about demo, and i think about a song, about drinks…. and nothing else. get your mind out of the gutter. can y’all tell i love the stupendium yet? the vending machine of love is definitely one of many masterpieces in stupe’s discography. and the whole vibe of the song is demo the man. eloquent, and elegant, and so effervescent; bubbly, fast paced, with killer lyrics and a smooth, satisfying delivery. and very queer. just like our favorite demolitions expert. slot your pennies in his vending machine of love. and i think demo, like onlycans, the app for soda lovers, is a true chameleon in the sense that there’s really no such thing as not getting along with demo. you will find something about him just irresistible to be around! he’s a chatty, fun loving guy, he’s funny, he’s flirty but not creepy with it (as long as he’s not absolutely plastered), you cannot help but love something about the guy.

heavy: double homicide by cupcakke is heavy weapons guy. sorry not sorry. shut the FUCK up and show me how y’all hold the spot. actual lyric in this actual song. it literally opens with “treat every [REDACTED] just like a sloppy joe; in cold words, bitch we only finna meet for bread” like first of all that’s misha. that IS misha. and the entire first half of the song being so forceful /pos, while not being nearly as fast as it will get in the second half of the song. “head shoulders knees and toes, i bet this bitch won’t leave with those” “itty itty bitty when you’re standing against me” like good god cupcakke wrote this and then said “wow you know who would like this, heavy weapons guy from critically acclaimed game team fortress two”, also it literally ENDS on “motherfucker need a doctor” which makes me scream because i think about the fact that if heavy is dominating an enemy medic, he doesn’t have domination lines against the medic; he’s only insulting the rest of the team for not protecting him. it reminds me of that lazypurple clip where he’s like “don’t rush heavy without a plan, that’s what he wants.”

engineer: he does what he does cause he’s a total fuckin cunt-ry boy. bo burnham has this song. i literally don’t know what it’s actual title is, but it’s that fucking country song? frankly i think engie would like bo burnham in general as a comedian, when i think of engie’s sense of humor i definitely think of bo burnham. dry, dark, poignant, fast enough that you’ll lose him if you don’t keep up. i also heavily associate entropy by awkwardmarina with him too. i think engie is, at his core and at his best, morally grey. self-sufficient, self-serving, and willing to do anything to get him where he needs to go. i think him shifting too far into “good” or “bad” does little justice for who dell conagher is in my mind and removes so much of any facet of his personality that he’s not dell: an insanely intelligent man, who comes from insanely intelligent family, with a lot of secrets he is the sole guard of at this time. and i think engie does feel like he is out of place most places from the sheer amount of information running through his mind at any given point. he’s simply not generic in a way that would make him a real, true functioning member of average society. but for the place he carved out for himself, he absolutely is a pillar and cornerstone of his community. the team would simply not be the same if he wasn’t there.

medic: YOU’RE EITHER WITH ME OR DOOMED! pharrell williams has actually released nothing but banger after banger for the despicable me soundtrack, and the good doctor does indeed get hug me from the third movie that i never watched. what i can tell you though, is that in no case of any one on one interaction with medic, is he ever the straight man. this man is an instigator, a shit starter, and a shit ender with the grin to match. because who else will stay in trouble with you? the doctor will run into open fire with you if he has a 75% confidence one of you will make it to the other side. and if it’s below, he’s willing to try to figure out what you both can do to better those odds. the best part about medic is that he is not a runner. god tier partner in crime. he will get arrested with you and call the team to post bail for both of you. he can be stuck to your hip if you want him to be. the world is his oyster, and for the low price of your soul it can be yours too.

sniper: i don’t know why, but tom cardy’s perception check is sniper to me. other than the fact that i do believe snipes is literally the most perceptive mercenary, like i don’t think anything has ever not been registered in snipes’ subconscious that he was witnessed even out of his peripherals, but i also think that there is an odd algorithm between snipes doing well on the field, and the rest of the team doing well on the field. and there’s a spot where one can argue both parties do “well”; but if the team is absolutely massacring on the field, sniper has missed nine of his ten shots. but! when the team is eating shit on the field; those happen to be the days sniper has gotten nine hours of sleep. also, snipes is probably lethal with some of the insults he’ll hurl on the field. if he doesn’t just straight up point at engie sometimes and yell “SHORT!”

spy: yet another banger from the despicable me soundtrack. i could go on at length about how double life has also cemented itself as one of pharrell william’s absolute masterpieces not just in the despicable me soundtrack, not just in animated movie soundtrack, but perhaps his entire discography. and i see the edit in my mind, seriously. i see the mid teens edit style spycentric MEP except it’s not romantic it’s the fact that his team doesn’t trust him as far as they can throw him. i can see the edit so clearly in my mind… i really think about the line “it doesn’t matter to you if you get heads or tails, you just don’t like to flip all the time.” because to me, that’s a very canonically spy sentiment! and it’s why i personally justify to myself why spy would even bother to sign onto a team of mercenaries, instead of continuing to be a lone wolf. he wants to have a group he can align himself with. he’s looking for a reciprocation of the support he knows he offers. but his team greatly distrusts him for it.

[storkmuffin]

Matz Lego Live 2025.2.13 Liveblog

@fallenstarhwa and @iriswashername this is for you!!

First off, you know they picked the 13th of February to do this lego live thing, very deliberately right? They're avoiding Valentine's day.

We open on Hongjoong muttering to himself while looking at his phone. It's always so funny to me that content makers are just as much serfs to the data farm as the ordinary people who watch their content. Hongjoong is wearing what looks like a hooded raincoat indoors, and a knit cap under that. I guess it's cold in this hotel. I've found that to be generally true of the West- Koreans keep things warm indoors, but westerners don't as much. Also there is a giant mirror in front of Seonghwa's bed. I can already hear the fanfic pens sharpening. Seonghwa comes to sit (plop, actually) next to Hongjoong. He is also wearing layers and a knit hat indoors. Definitely cold. The glasses he has on are very cool but they also are very grandpa, and given their height difference and Hong Joong slouching they look like dad and son.

Hwa is checking angles, making sure the lego boxes are lined up properly, that the link to internet is working, the camera is on, busy busy busy, and HJ is just ... diddling his phone on his lap making mouth sounds.

Immediately, Hongjoong causes banging. He pretends the banging didn't happen but Hwa doesn't cooperate. He looks for the thing that fell, and sees nothing on the floor, so then he silently wonders if someone knocked by staring at the door. He looks almost ready to stand up. Apparently when someone knocks it's Hwa's job to go open the door, because he doesn't say anything to HJ about the 'knock.' This is finally when HJ sheepishly says, No, it's not anything, it's my phone. Hwa looks at the phone in HJ's hand, clearly wondering how did that thing in your hand make a noise so far away from it, but he's just too busy doing the set up. HJ leans back from his seat to pick up the second phone that's fallen to the floor from the arm rest. HJ keeps talking but Hwa doesn't say a word until the set up is working.

Hwa is a sweetie. He really for some reason REALLY REALLY wanted to make legos with HJ and it's finally happening so he messes up his opening comment. He says, It's been a million years... and then realizes, Oh this is the first time! HJ is just a kid - he actually just echoes what Hwa says, no brain, just amplifying, until he confirms that this is the first time they're doing legos.

Then Hwa notices their outfits match. "This is so exciting!" he says, about their matching, and HJ pouts, You're copying me again. They are not looking at each other. Hwa says that he has to keep the glasses on because he looks ugly without, to which HJ says that he knew Hwa would wear the glasses, so he left his own behind. .... HJ. Dude. TELL HWA HE'S PRETTY. what are you DOING.

Hwa explains the legos they are about to make to the audience, adding in a little bit that says, I tried to reflect HJ's tastes even though he told me that he likes whatever I like - and HJ is like I did not say that!! Then Hwa explains in painstaking detail about Anakin and Asoka and how having an apprentice is not the same as having a brother (it's not 형 it's 스승 and 제자!). HJ has no idea wtf he's talking about or anything about Star Wars. At all. Okayyy. (I'm judging him in Nerd.)

They're unboxing the Legos with Hwa narrating like he's trying to sell them on the home shopping network. There are thumb grooves to make the boxes fun to open! and so on. HJ is trying really hard to not be mean about all this dorkiness, and mostly succeeding. The first crisis point is when Hwa shows off about how environmentally friendly the packaging is now, no plastic!!, until he opens his own smaller lego and realizes... it's still fully plastic. HJ covers his face to laugh.

Hwa will assist HJ on putting HJ's lego together. HJ side eyes Hwa to ask how much of a time commitment this is going to be, to which Hwa says it'll be about an hour.

Then HJ tells us, the audience, that this is not his lifetime first encounter with Legos. Hwa is surprised enough to turn to look at HJ, and acts betrayed. (뭐야...). He gets over it pretty quickly and goes right back to selling the legos on the home shopping network. The dialect tonality is coming out so strong right now. Is it because he's excited? LOL

As HJ begins unboxing the pieces, he just hates them. His mouth sours. He hates the legos as they come out, whereas Hwa looks fondly at the plastic pieces like they are his offspring hatching from the foam covering their egg cluster. Then HJ says that by nature, he hates the kind of thing where he has to follow a pre-set recipe and order. Hwa, holding the pre-set recipe and order book in his hand, stares off into the distance.

This is going to be a very long evening.

Hwa hazards, "So you just wanna make something new??"and HJ says no, with this sort of thing you have no choice but to follow. Hwa smiles just the tiniest bit, because he had been plunged into an icy bath just a moment ago and now he's back out of it.

HJ says he wants to experience the 'time killing' culture of Legos, then says that since beginning his Lego habit, Hwa has gotten angrier as a person (joke). If Hwa had done something similar, HJ would immediately go NO I DIDN'T but Hwa smiles in an exasperated way and then asks, rhetorically, Shouldn't it be the opposite? and lets HJ explain that he was joking. They are so different.

Then HJ spills everything and they disppear for a while, to pick up all the pieces, muttering. Hwa lectures - belatedly - about how you have to open stuff carefully.

HJ keeps signalling how much he hates Legos already and he hasn't even fit two pieces together. He says "This is a valuable experience" - singular, the one time, never again, etc. is implied. "You're doing great!" Hwa says, "You've already made half of Asoka!"

HJ doesn't like being Hwa's student. "It's been a long time since I've learned something from Hwa. It feels... complicated."* Hwa doesn't want him to drop out, so he says, "All you need for lego making is to be fastidious and alert." HJ says he's neither of those things. HJ says this is like getting behavioral therapy to learn calmness.

*What HJ says is it feels 오묘하다 to be taught by Hwa, which literally means Mysterious, but I'm choosing a different word.

But HJ gets the hang of it by the 10 minute mark - he says, "I just have to follow the instructions!" like this is a discovery (Why is he 4 years old?). And then they are side by side, looking down, chatting in a leisurely way about their visit to Como. They look just like me and my knitting circle when we work on individual projects side by side, talking.

HJ kinda talks about himself a lot. See. This is one of those things that makes me think he's ND. Hwa says things to him about him, and HJ answers with more information about himself, but doesn't ask Hwa anything. When Hwa makes an encouraging comment - Oh you're on page 2 already? -HJ is like I am good at this sort of thing because I studied hard in school. But Hwa just indulges him like HJ is his grandson - Oh what a smart boy, Kim Hong Joong, he says, absolutely soullessly but not with any sort of sarcasm, while making his own lego. And HJ just keeps talking about his strengths - he can stay put and work on something for a long time! And Hwa keeps agreeing. "Yes! That's why you're so good at composing."

Basically, Hwa is gentle parenting HJ into staying put and making this lego thing, doing something he doesn't like (Following a strict recipe) about an IP property he knows nothing about (Star Wars) because Hwa's fans (and probably Hwa himself) wants him to make legos with someone while on this tour. LOLOL.

HJ says he has set up a composition station on the bed in his hotel rooms (Hwa: And not because you just want to work in bed?) then he tells a story about packing harmonicas and a whole second bag of composition equipment. Hwa spills things, and blames HJ (Now that I'm with you I'm spilling things!) to which HJ as per usual shoots back (No, spilling things is just your nature).

I saw an anti-Ateez post on the Korean internet, and the person said HJ was the reason she couldn't get into Ateez. HongJoong stans, cover your eyes: She said that she's noticed when a leader of an Idol group with a lot of members is short, their egos tend to be bloated, and felt HJ was a prime example. 4 minutes into actually making legos, HJ is congratulating himself - I am talented at this! - and Hwa says, Oh you're definitely talented at this! Half a second later, literally, HJ makes an alarmed mouth sound and Hwa says, "Why, did you mess up?"

Hwa keeps HJ talking about the harmonica. HJ says he can play a song on the harmonica, and starts singing it. Together, they start singing Donna e Mobile from Rigoletto and not remembering what it's called, and I'm having that experience of being a ghost, where I'm screaming IT'S RIGOLETTO!! RIGOLETTO!! DONNA E MOBILE!!! but the people I'm screaming at can't hear me.

HJ keeps soliciting praise from Hwa ("I'm doing great!") and Hwa just automatically affirms.

The chat is trying to tell HJ what the song is but those bitches are all getting it wrong. I am biting down on my teeth so hard because I can't keep shouting La Donna e Mobile!!

Hwa spills more pieces and HJ attacks him. He gets overexcited so he stutters- What-what-what were you saying about like psh! like about the spilling?? to me??? Hwa is a lot like San in that he suddenly says Zen master things: Everyone makes mistakes, but the key is to not be defeated by them. I feel like this shows a perfectionist streak, to have to defend dropping a lego piece with this sort of weighty principle.

They gossip like old biddies about San. San kept saying the steaks in room service of every hotel is delicious, but when Hwa double checks with HJ the answer is sometimes a meh. HJ says San just likes beef.

HJ completes a portion of a piece then wants praise (again) (He's kind of a handful, isn't he?). Hwa says, You mustn't give up, there are so many cheering you on. HJ says, You said this would be over in half an hour. Hwa retorts, I said an hour. HJ really doesn't like Lego. LOLOL

Hwa keeps checking in on him- you're having a fun right? I'm so pleased to hear you're having fun - and HJ affirms, but his comments say otherwise. He keeps declaring himself DONE and FINISHED when he evidently isn't.

At the 27 minute mark, Hwa is done with his. HJ drops something else, and Hwa automatically consoles him to no response. HJ, when he's not praising himself or soliciting praise, sings snippets of song. This makes him just like San, who just starts singing when there's nothing else to do. I think Hwa is worried HJ will drop out of this project, so he's lathering him in praise. "Oh such great observation skills!" But HJ still doesn't like it. He wants to know if there's competitions for finishing legos as fast as possible. LOLOL. Hwa doesn't know.

Hwa starts to actively, aggressively help HJ put the thing together. "My mouth is drying out," HJ says, because he's having a rough time. Hwa's soft power is unparalleled. He's totally forcing HJ to do this and I'm CRACKING UP.

Oooh! HJ finished! He flips open the lid of his spaceship back and forth, now soliciting praise from the audience. Once the toy is complete, HJ makes mouth sound effects like he's 4. Zzzyoooong ~ etc. He's literally 4.

Hwa says, You finished the first one.

HJ gets up immediately.

Hwa: YOU'RE NOT LEAVING RIGHT? COME BACK.

HJ goes to get the second bag and slumps in his chair. He hates this so much. YOU DO IT NOW TOO, he commands Hwa as the second baggie full of legos comes out. "I am," Hwa says, very calm.

What is Hwa getting out of forcing HJ to do this? This is a weird kink.

They're talking nonsense about flying cars, about how technology can come out that you think is impossible, and then HJ signals how much he's not actually enjoying this: What about machines that make legos for you?? Hwa, very calmly ignoring this, the 700th hint, says, That already exists. But he's not missing out on the hints. He starts to act as a surgical nurse to HJ, finding the next piece he's going to need and handing it to him one right after the other like it's in the surgical theater and they're saving a life.

HJ hates this so much. He reads his favorite line of the manual so far. "Hey they're letting me know that I'm halfway through!!" Hwa is honest and brings down the reality hammer: "This is not the halfway point." (There's a lot more to go.) HJ is CRUSHED but Hwa is amused. HJ can't stop now, even if he hates it. Hwa is pleased.

It's only a quarter of the way done.

HJ starts to rebel. "I'm going to just go by feeling!" Hwa says no - "You can't go by feeling. I told you." He starts pre-making pieces to hand over to HJ to fit into the in progress piece. HJ is playing drums, rapping, drinking, sighing, making mouth sounds. "It would have been a disaster to pick a bigger one," Hwa admits.

HJ wants Hwa to let him stop. "You're feeling frustrated, aren't you??"

Hwa, very calm, very pleased, says No, not at all.

What...

What is this kink?

This kink of forcing a person who hates Legos to make a Lego with you even as they actively hate it??

HJ tries to trick himself into going on. "I like it! This is good! It's great!"

That was the last of his energy though, because HJ just puts his head down on the table. He wants to leave, but the force of Hwa's power is such that he can't, so he wants to exit the room by going inside his subconscious. Hwa is busy, making HJ's lego for him. "You're not sleeping, right?" he asks. HJ's head pops right back up. "No! No! I'm thinking [about making the Lego]!" he says.

HJ gives up. Hwa is making the Legos, so HJ reads the comments by those in the chat. Meanwhile, there's a piece missing, and Hwa looks for it. HJ finds it for him on the table. Hwa says, "Lego never makes an error. All the errors are my own."

Why is Hwa making Buddhist koans out of lego? LOLOL

He hands the lego making back to HJ, because making HJ make the legos is his kink. HJ is trying so hard - talking himself up, rapping, singing, writhing around - to keep his mind on these lego things that he hates.

I'm scary when I concentrate! he threatens Hwa, as he accepts his fate. You're not intimidating in any way, Hwa says, helping him. He's back to lathering HJ in praise - You're talented at this! I believe in you! HJ is putting the lego together with all the joyless but concentrated detachment of a factory worker putting semiconductors together.

"Are you so very bored?" Hwa asks, laughing.

This is so his kink and I don't understand but it's very perverse.

HJ protests that he is having a wonderful time. Then he says, as Hwa continues to be his surgical nurse, "You make a good assistant. You were born to assist me!" Then he segues into a military role play, where he's the tough commander and Hwa is his solicitous subordinate. Hwa plays right along, smoothly transitioning into the tone and affect of 'military' as seen in media. Hwa's dialect is coming out strong. HJ is talking 'down' to Hwa, using 반말, because he's the "general" in this little play whereas Hwa is speaking 존댓말 in response. All while in the larger context Hwa is forcing HJ to do this thing he doesn't like. This is fucking kinky. This is giving, also, Captain Hook and Mr. Smee, where Smee was the top. You know what I mean right? HJ is being played so hard. I can't believe KQ staff are letting this happen to him. Is it OK that I'm watching this?

Hwa, what are you doing, you weird pervert!?!?

SO they have finished one of the wings. Hwa says, to be encouraging, You just have to make one more! but HJ is like, Why does the fucking spaceship have two wings?

HJ doesn't want to snap the pieces together anymore. He says, I'll find the pieces and you assemble it.

AND NOW HWA IS THE GENERAL AND HJ IS USING 존댓말. Hwa's voice gets louder and lower and HJ turns into a little high pitched bird.

THIS IS THE KINKIEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN

WHAT IS HAPPENING

HWA IS SO HARD RIGHT NOW.

FUCKING LEGO IS MAKING ME WRITE RPF FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE

I AM LOSING IT.

I'm suited to this! HJ says, happily. Being what? Being Hwa's submissive assistant? Do you even know what you're saying, HJ? Was this Hwa's big picture all along???

They entirely stop talking for long moments as Hwa is fully in the zone, having HJ play the attentive assistant to him, while he makes Legos. This is Hwa's sexuality, apparently. I mean I said he was queer but like, he went ahead and invented Lego Queer. I have been listening too much Ateez music because I'm fully hearing in my head Seonghwa singing I'm the one in my zone, 다른 애들은 삐약 as I'm watching HJ hover at Hwa's elbow as Hwa makes the rest of HJ's lego.

HJ starts cheering like an American cheerleader at Hwa making the lego.

LEGO QUEER KINKY SHIT.

이건 무슨 일이야 indeed.

What is it with these Ateez guys and their need to make speeches about life lessons? HJ, completely unaware of the Lego Queer Kink Dungeon in which he has found himself, jabbers on about how he is learning important Life Lessons from building this lego.

Hwa is putting stickers on the lego, and HJ is just stroking him by praising him every step of the way. HJ needed Hwa's praise to stay engaged in the lego making, but Hwa was actually just dosing him with the behavior he wanted HJ to do. That is, Hwa wanted HJ to praise him as he made legos. What's happening looks the same but what's actually going on is entirely different.

Hwa has completed the lego. HJ claps. Not because he liked it, but because he's so happy it's over. Hwa - I SWEAR TO GOD I'M LIVE BLOGGING THIS - Hwa POINTS THE PHALLUS SHAPED SPACE SHIP WITH THE TWO THINGS SPREAD OUT TO THE SIDE, HOLE FACING FORWARD, AND SHOOTS HIS LOAD AT THE CAMERA.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i'm

I'M CRYING

I'M....

박성화 너 뭐하는거야????????????????????????

AND THEN HE GIVES IT TO HJ WHO ALSO SHOOTS HIS LOAD.

야 박성화! 성화야! 야!!!!!! 너! 너너!! 너어어어어어어!!!!!

You shouldn't shoot this at people, Hwa says, after collecting the bullet.

THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID.

Hwa has a cruel streak if this is anything to go by. Look at poor little HJ who clearly had no idea what sort of video he was making. He's crushed, drained, overwhelmed. Hwa on the other hand is shooting load after load at the camera.

His aftercare is cold as shit too. He asks if HJ would ever make Legos again. When HJ responds with the loudest silence of all time Hwa just tells him what's next on the agenda - they are gonna make a small lego in HJ's composition room. HJ immediately says no. There is no shelving and no space. Hwa doesn't argue. He is just going to bide his time to get what he wants. Like he did this time. Then he summarily orders HJ to go.

가 he says. Just Go. Not go and rest or go and wash up or go and sleep. Just. Go.

HJ mumbles something about including San but Hwa had no answer to that because he got what he wanted. He's done.

Park Seonghwa is a Lego Queer Dom and he's A BRUTE

[vintageshanny]

Zippers and Kisses

This is just a flirty fantasy I’ve created in my mind after reading the story behind these pictures in Shirley Connell’s book.

Content: Elvis being the marvelously complex person that he was - confident, insecure, sweet, funny, etc. PG13 I think?

October 1976

“See? I told you that it was him!” Trudy exclaimed triumphantly as she whipped her car into the gas station parking lot. “I’d recognize that sexy bod anywhere,” she added with a giggle.

“Me too,” Effie whispered, almost to herself, her heart pounding out of her chest as she watched Elvis climb off his motorcycle and saunter into the building. “Don’t let Jim hear you say that, though,” she warned her friend.

Trudy rolled her eyes at the mention of her husband’s jealousy of Elvis. “Yeah, I guess you’ll have to do all the flirting tonight.”

“I’ll be lucky if I can remember my name,” Effie murmured as she got out of the car, somehow propelling herself forward as if she wasn’t about to have the most surreal experience of her life.

As they approached the building, Elvis came walking back out with two of his guys following close behind.

“Hey Trudy honey, how’ve ya been?” Elvis asked, nodding at her and Effie.

Trudy could never fully grasp that Elvis knew her name, even after years of hanging out by the gate and talking to him whenever she got the chance.

“Good, Elvis, it’s so nice to see you. This is my friend Effie, she’s visiting Memphis for a few weeks and really wanted to meet you.”

Elvis looked over intrigued as Trudy discreetly backed away and started a conversation with the guys. She knew Effie really wanted to talk to Elvis alone, but that was never easy these days.

“Ya really wanted ta meet me?” he asked, sounding oddly flattered, as if there were not millions of women dying to meet him.

“Of course. I mean, I’m such a big fan of yours. I have all of your records,” Effie rambled nervously, sounding like a starstruck teenager instead of the 29-year-old woman she was. Elvis looked amused as she continued on. “I’m sorry, I’m so nervous. I, um, I just think you’re so special.”

Elvis’ smile widened noticeably at that. “Aw honey, ain’t no need ta be nervous around little old me. I’m just a regular guy.”

“A regular guy out for a midnight motorcycle ride with an entourage and a pack of groupies following.” Effie laughed, finally letting herself relax.

“Exactly. Oh, did ya wanna see my badge?” Elvis suddenly asked excitedly, unzipping his jacket to show off the badge on his belt.

“Oh wow, it’s sparkly!” Effie exclaimed as she leaned down to get a closer look.

“I had some diamonds added to it,” Elvis explained proudly, looking down with a smile as she studied the badge. He tilted it a little bit so she could see the diamonds better. He saw her eyes trail to the rings on his fingers and then to something else below his belt.

Effie’s eyes widened as she noticed a little glinting piece of metal that was not in its proper position. She blushed as she thought how easy it would be to reach her hand into that opening in the fabric and touch the bulge that was nestled there. She blushed even harder when she looked up and saw Elvis staring down with a little crooked smirk on his face.

“Honey, somehow I don’t think you’re lookin’ at the badge anymore. Somethin’ else caught your eye?” he teased, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips.

“Yes, I mean it’s just that...” Effie leaned in close to him and lowered her voice. “It’s just that your zipper is down,” she whispered.

“It is?” Now it was Elvis’ turn to blush as he reached down and yanked the zipper up hurriedly. He tried to pull the zipper up on his jacket as well, feeling suddenly much too exposed. He should’ve just stayed home tonight.

Effie watched as Elvis fumbled with the zipper on his jacket, his cheeks turning pinker by the second. He’s embarrassed and self-conscious, she thought to herself, her heart melting at the realization.

She put her hands on his and gently instructed, “Let me help you.” She carefully lined up the zipper and pulled it halfway up, noticing with delight how the jacket pulled tautly across his soft middle.

“Thank ya, honey,” Elvis mumbled, feeling like a fool.

How to get back to that flirty banter? Effie wondered. Time to be bold. “Y’know, I would’ve helped you with your other zipper too.”

There was that beautiful lopsided grin again. “Is that right, honey?”

“Yes, look how good I am at making sure the teeth are all lined up right.” She trailed her finger down the zipper of his jacket, letting her hand rest on his stomach.

“Oh baby, I don’t think I want ya usin’ any teeth down there at all,” Elvis laughed.

Effie’s face turned red, but Elvis’ loud uninhibited laugh was contagious, and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

“You didn’t have to come out here with your zipper down to get my attention, I would’ve been looking anyway,” she teased.

Elvis grinned and looked away, shaking his head a little as he blushed again. “You’re really somethin’, honey, y’know that?”

“I mean it, Elvis. You look so good. So good,” she repeated

“Tryin ta butter me up, huh? That must mean ya want somethin’. What can I do for ya baby?”

Effie felt her body go into some sort of sensory overload as Elvis grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in close to him, still smiling as his fingertips caressed her lower back.

“Well,” she squeaked out. “As long as you’re offering, I would love a kiss.”

“A kiss?” Elvis repeated, leaning in closer, relishing the feeling of a woman’s soft body reacting to his touch.

Effie nodded, unable to form words any longer as Elvis’ lips moved closer, slightly parted. His breath was warm and sweet against her own as his plush mouth finally landed on hers. She felt a soft flick of his tongue against her lips before he pulled back, the expression on his face as blissful as she felt.

“How was that honey?” he asked, his eyes searching her face for reassurance that he still had something special to offer.

“My whole body is tingling,” Effie whispered, her judgment clouded from her state of euphoria.

“Mine too,” Elvis chuckled. “I might have some more zipper problems soon.”

“Well you know who to call for help.” Effie smiled up at him as he gave her another tight squeeze before turning to get his helmet from one of his guys.

“I hope I see ya around again, honey. Don’t forget about me.”

“Well?” Trudy demanded as they got back to the car. “I gave you some time alone with him. Was it everything you’ve dreamed of?”

“He was so sweet and vulnerable and human.” Effie leaned back in her seat, still in a daze. “I think I can die happy,” she whispered.

[panelshowsource]

Slightly random question, but I wonder this myself a lot. If you were on WILTY, what would your unlikely truth be?

LOL I'VE NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THIS

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

well

one that i couldn't tell but is my go-to dinner party story is the time that jason bateman cursed me out on the street lmao i noticed him and his wife walking past my friends and me, and i pointed (i thought subtly???) so my friends would see him like ~ooo a celeb is walking by~ but actually HE noticed ME and was like "why are you pointing me out!!!! i'm trying to go about my fucking day and have lunch with my wife!!!! take out a billboard on my location why don't you!!!!! fuck!!!! what the fuck is your problem!!!!!!!!" it was so intense LMAO obv even if i tried to keep it light and funny for wilty, he would just come off like an asshole, plus that's such an american namedrop for a bbc show

while we're on subject of flop celeb encounters that wouldn't work for wilty here's another one — back in 2011/2012 i lived across the street from paul dano, and at the time i was interning for the pr agency that was working on swiss army man (SO underrated pls watch it my fellow comedy fans). one day, i saw him in the subway and mustered up the courage that i typically never have to go up to him and say "mr dano! just wanted to say i saw swiss army man and you were fantastic. congrats on the production. really :)" and he just looked at me blankly like ........... and after about 5 of the longest seconds ever said "it hasn't even come out yet. how would you have seen it? 😐🤨" i was so shocked i was like 🧍‍♀️ LMAO but i eventually coughed up "oh i'm working with the pr team :) we're very excited about the film!" and he was just like "ah" and i said "okay i'll let you get back to your morning" and that was it. later when i saw him (and dan radcliffe, who was an angel <3) at the press stops, he didn't recognise me hahahaha GOOD. that would have been embarrassing. 😃 but i lowkey love that he practically accused me of lying or, like, having seen a leak or something. he said i don't trust no bitch!!!

OKAY ANYWAYS hmmmmmmmmmmmmm

something for wilty hmmmmmmmmmm

maybe that when i was in middle school i shit myself on the local news 😃

because i was a track n field champion for our state and there were junior olympic scouts visiting our school, the local news came to the first meet of the new season. i was hella nervous but ran my lil race, jumping hurdles, and got to the finish line — and i got first place!! yay celebration!! but right away i noticed no one was cheering or even smiling. my coach was there, my mom was there, the news people were there with their big ol camera, all looking like 😧😧😧 then i felt it...going down my legs. i looked down. POOP LEGS ☹️ i guess while i was jumping the hurdles i kinda...released ☹️ pooped myself ☹️ some of my teammates laughed at me ☹️ everyone pitied me ☹️ me, the winner ☹️ with poop legs ☹️ AND my parents have the recording of me finishing my race and beginning to walk towards the news people with my poop legs ☹️ thankfully wilty wouldn't ask for the clip bc no respectable network would show an old video of a child with poop on their legs ☹️

(don't worry, the local news didn't show my poop legs on tv, they just gave the recording to my parents)

IS THIS AN ACCEPTABLE UNLIKELY TRUTH 😃

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

some type of skin.

PAIRING — billy russo x reporter f!reader

CONTENTS — ficlet; fluff; tiny bit of angst if you squint really, really hard; a dash of pining; references to some canon-typical violence; some very mild innuendo.

SUMMARY — after a harrowing experience, billy surprisingly takes the matter of your personal safety into his very own hands.

W/C — ~1.6k

NOTES — so I decided to write something short and fun for @elixirfromthestars’s cinema writing challenge and honestly, i’m not 100% satisfied with this (when am i ever tho?) but also trying not to overthink this too much. please excuse me while I continue to scream into the void about this stupidly beautiful man. I apologize in advance for the person I have been and am going to be for the next few weeks; ben barnes has such a firm grip on my fucking throat lmao 🤭

✩ masterlist ✩ library blog

When he asked you to meet him here at Anvil headquarters so you could finally interview him for that story in the Bulletin, this isn’t exactly what you were expecting. 

Instead of being seated in his second floor office overlooking the main part of the warehouse, you’re standing in the basement dressed in your crisp white blouse, hastily pressed pencil skirt, and low heels. You toy with the press pass hanging around your neck, unsure what to do with your hands. 

Your interview subject, however, seems quite relaxed save for the slight wrinkle between his dark brows as he very deliberately lays out several objects on a table in the middle of the room. He’s switched out his usual sharp business attire for a green pullover that looks soft to the touch, dark cargo pants, and a pair of combat boots. 

It takes you a few seconds to find your voice, because does he have to recline against the damn thing like that? He looks tall and lean, but damn it when he’s like this, showing off the corded muscles in his arms and shoulders, you cannot doubt that he’s an ex-Marine. 

“Russo?” 

“Hm?” He hums distractedly. 

“Are those knives?” 

Well, that gets his attention. He lifts his head and finally makes direct eye contact, and a shiver shoots down your spine. 

“Yeah, they are,” he confirms casually, as if you’ve just asked him if the sky is blue. He leans his hands on the table, shamelessly giving you a slow and careful once over before he frowns a little. “You’re gonna have to change.” 

“I feel compelled to tell you Karen knows I’m here,” you say quickly, raising an inquisitive eyebrow when he just chuckles like you’ve said something adorably funny. “Also, I thought we were doing an interview?” 

Billy Russo stares expectantly at you for a few seconds, lips slowly turning upward into a mysterious smile that you know has captured hearts all over the city. 

But you won’t fall for that, will you? 

Nope. Not in the slightest. 

“Nah, not yet anyway. Sorry, darlin’.” 

Ignore that! You scream mentally, but your brain does not cooperate. “Then what am I doing here, Lieutenant?” 

Whoops. His head snaps up again, his already sunless eyes getting darker by the second. Without breaking the intense eye contact, he just gestures around the room as though it’s oh so obvious. 

“Self-defence training.” 

“And why would I need—ugh, I don’t have time for this, Billy.” You heave a sigh, dropping all pretenses now, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

You’ve always known that Billy marches to the beat of his own drum, ever since the two of you met when Karen introduced you a few months ago while you were researching for a story about army veterans—a friend of a friend’s, she’d said, but never elaborated—but this seems excessive. 

“You wouldn’t have come if I were honest,” he says, his smile falling away in an instant, the glint of amusement in his eyes disappearing like smoke in the wind. “I don’t need to remind you of the… unpleasantness that happened last week.” 

“And yet here we are,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m fine.” 

“You were attacked,” Billy corrects, walking around the table to perch himself on the edge closest to you. You roll your eyes; as if you’ve forgotten. Getting ambushed in front of your apartment by two masked assailants isn’t exactly an easy thing to forget. 

“Everything worked out, didn’t it?” You uncross your arms and saunter over to the table, ignoring the heavy weight of his gaze on you. And it really had! 

Just as one of your would-be kidnappers, whatever it was they wanted, hit you in the face in retaliation for you kicking him in the shins and biting the other on the arm, your neighbour had come out of the apartment building just in time and began screaming bloody murder. They had no choice but to drop you and run, leaving you dishevelled and bruised, but otherwise fine, on the sidewalk. 

“They could come back,” Billy points out, since they obviously didn’t get what they’d come for, the same thing the police had said when they arrived just minutes later. You didn’t think much of it, though. Karen had had her fair share of run-ins with such undesirables, and she assured that this just meant you were pushing precisely the right buttons as a reporter. 

Even so, she still urged you to call Billy for protection.

You wonder if he gets all of his clients to undergo this self-defence training, or if he always personally offers to instruct them.

“Can’t guarantee it won’t happen again,” Billy doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer. The two of you stare for a moment, engaging in a silent battle of wits that you, of course, end up losing when you’re the first to look away. He nods at the various knives and daggers strewn across the table. “C’mon, pick one and we’ll start small.” 

“Small?” You squeak as you eye the particularly ornate handle on one of the knives that honestly looks more like a short sword. 

“Aw, don’t be scared,” Billy chuckles and pats you on the shoulder, watching with those hawkish eyes of his as you consider your options. “This is a safe space.” 

Is it though? You wonder as you pick up a small dagger closest to you. “Wouldn’t guns make more sense since I’m not exactly trained in hand to hand combat?” 

“I am training you. And you’re not ready for guns yet,” Billy grins when you unsheathe the dagger, eyes widening just a fraction at the way the blade glints in the light. “‘Sides, picturin’ you with a knife is way hotter. You gonna wear a thigh holster?” 

You flick the tip of the blade in his direction, “Watch it, Russo. I’m armed.” 

But he just laughs, a sound that comes with a dangerous surge of pride in your chest, “That’s not how you hold a dagger.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you bristle, cheeks warming and trying not to watch, enraptured, as he stands up to his full height, his boots thumping heavily on the concrete. 

“Careful,” he warns, but he sounds more amused than offended as he closes the distance between you in just a few small strides. “You’d better play nice if you still want that interview.” 

But there’s nothing professional about the way he steps behind you, the way his arms pull you back against his chest, or the way his hand lands on yours to adjust your grip on the dagger’s handle. 

“Not all of us can be badass ex-Marines, can we?” It takes everything you have not to stammer, not to gulp nervously when you feel the calloused ridge of his trigger finger caressing the same spot on your own hand. 

“Yeah, well, I believe in you,” you can hear the smirk in his voice as his free hand comes down to rest on your hip, warm and heavy as it guides you slowly into a proper stance. “Bend your knees a little.” 

“Pretty sure I hired you so I wouldn’t have to take matters into my own hands like this,” you huff in annoyance, grumbling but following his instructions anyway, feeling a bit silly doing this in your work clothes. He never did give you a chance to change. 

“Please, you couldn’t afford me,” Billy murmurs so low against your ear that it sends a shiver down the side of your neck, all the way to a certain part of your anatomy you refuse to acknowledge at the moment, his beard slightly rough against your cheek. Is he doing this on purpose? “Also, did you technically hire me if I’m doing this pro bono?”

“Yeah, and on that note,” you grow bold when he squeezes your hip in encouragement, leaning back against him with your arm extended, your hands joined together, the tip of the dagger’s blade angled upward at an imaginary assailant. “Why are you? The Billy Russo I know never works for free.” 

You see, you know precisely the kind of man Billy is. He would never invest this kind of time and energy into something like this, not unless he had something to gain from it—

Even without looking back, you feel his dark obsidian gaze on the still healing bruise that’s formed on the side of your face. His fingers tighten around yours, there’s a slight hitch in his breath you can feel with his chest pressed to your back, and the hand on your hip slides forward and around to your other side in an almost embrace. Protective, possessive, and maybe even a little petrified.

—or unless he had some type of skin in the game. 

And suddenly, despite the way you’re dressed and your hilarious lack of experience, you start to feel pretty invincible. You allow yourself a proud grin, squaring your shoulders so you stand a little taller in his arms.

They fall instantly, however, when Billy steps away and moves to stand directly in front of you. You feel immensely colder at the loss of proximity. 

“Alright, let’s see what you got,” he’s smirking again, all that vulnerability and whatever warmth you sensed in his body language once again hidden away behind a layer of arrogance and swagger. He beckons you with a come here gesture of his hand. 

“What?” You blink. 

“I’ve just broken into your apartment,” he states matter-of factly, “what do you do?” He coaxes you again with another wave.

“But wait!” You almost shriek, your bout of confidence once again faltering. “You didn’t even teach me anything yet!” 

“I need to see where you’re at first before I can teach you, darlin’,” he’s still smirking, half condescending and half amused, and your hands twitch to fling the knife at his stupid head.

“I’m at nowhere! I’ve got nothing! And you don’t even have a weapon, I could slice your damn face off!” Or worse, scar it. 

Billy laughs again, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. “Oh, sweetheart, you can certainly try.” 

fin.

© 2025 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane. do not repost, translate, or copy to third party sites. no part of this work may be fed into any AI software or websites. minors are asked not to interact with my blog; you are responsible for your own media consumption. followers with zero engagement, serial likers and blank/ageless blogs will be blocked.

[gazsluckyhat]

Denial is a River in Egypt

Let's all say thank you @miss-vanta-likes-to-write for making me post this early. I was saving it for after Sarah's House but she's been begging. And I quite enjoy this one as well.

That being said this is a dark fic. Please check the trigger warnings before reading.

tw: kidnapping, dub-con, mentions of drugs

Everyone knows that what belongs to Simon belongs to John. Of course that includes you, too.

or

Denial is a river in Egypt. Everyone knows that.

The lights in the house were off, front door locked. Everything was as you left it when you left this morning, but you weren't alone. The hot coco you made every night to relax had a funny taste. You just assumed it was because it was a Christmas flavor and Christmas was two months ago. But now, seeing who was in front of you, you know it isn’t that. He blended into the darkness of the living room. He could have been there for hours. You'd been in the kitchen for at least two. A late dinner and a couple chapters read before bed. He'd stepped forward the second you finished the mug, which was now shattered at your feet.

"What-what are you doing here?" Something was wrong, you could feel it in your chest. He only cocked his head to the side.

"Taste funny love?" Confirmation on what you already knew. A step back was met with a step forward. He matched every move you made.

"You broke into my house." He only chuckled.

"I did tell you that you need a better system." The knife block was behind you, you just had to reach it. Another step back matched. The counter pressed into your back.

"What do you want?" Your hand reached behind you, fingers searching for the bigger knife. He knew what you were doing of course. He always did.

"Nothing. I've got what I want." Eye's wide with confusion you felt it. Your head started to sway, limbs growing heavy.

"Yo spikd drink." You tongue felt numb. He walked closer and when your knee's buckled he caught you. His touch always so gentle. All you could do was whimper.

"Shh. Don't worry love. We're going home now." Your eyes drifted closed as he lifted you up with ease. You should've went home that night. When the brute of a man slid in close, you should have feigned sick and left. Now you were stuck with a Ghost that didn't like 'no'.

Your head felt stuffed with cotton, your mouth so dry. Everything aches, including your head. Whatever you were laying on was scratchy and rough. You couldn't feel the rest of your body parts yet, a tingly numbness still running through your veins. It felt like you had to use all your strength to open your eyes, the minimal light still hurting them. You weren't in your house. This wasn't your bedroom. This wasn't even your basement. There weren't any signs of your seasonal décor anywhere.

"She's awake Simon." Blue eyes appeared in your sight. And the stupidest haircut you'd ever seen. That only meant-Price. He was spread across the couch in front of you, a cigar hanging out of his mouth. His lap dog Kyle was behind him, eyes watching your every move. Johnny was kneeling in front of you. You were assuming he was touching you, though ,again, you couldn't feel the rest of your body yet.

"Almost forgot how pretty she is, Lt." You tried to bare your teeth but only got a laugh from the men. Simon strolled in seconds later, mask gone. He was wearing a grey shirt and black tac pants. His usual get up. He happily knelt beside Johnny, hand running through your hair.

"Sleep good love?" Brown eyes showing concern. Tugging a knot out you groaned. Your head still ached. "Bet your head aches, huh? Roofie'll do that." He stood back up and slipped something from his pocket, grabbing the bottle Johnny offered him. "This'll help some." Shaking out two white pills he offered them to you.

"Why would I trust you?" Your voice was rough, sore even. Simon chuckled before a smack registered on your thigh. Feeling now back.

"Now now Soap. Her punishment comes later." John was smirking your way. Anger bubbled up. "I'm sure Simon can handle her." Simon bent down his other hand stroking your cheek.

"It's paracetamol. I've never lied to you, love." Which was a lie. Your head ached though. And all your muscles feel tight and wound up. Opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out he set the pills in your mouth. "Good girl." He took the lid off the bottle and slowly put it to your mouth where you gulped greedily. The water felt great on your throat. Johnny tugged your head back gently.

"Slow down Lassie. You'll choke." Wiggling your toes you realize they weren't bound and neither were your hands. Why would they be? You had four of the best soldiers in the room with you. You couldn't get away even if you tried. And they knew it.

"What do you want Simon? Where am I?" This wasn't his place. This had to be some old abandoned place by the looks of the walls. Though it looked like work was being done.

"I told you before. I have what I want. And this is our home." He was smiling at you.

"We were gonna wait until the renovation was done before bringing you, doll, but you had to go and ruin plans." John was glaring at you. "So sorry if it's not up to your standards."

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything to any of you." They were delusional. You'd broke things off with Simon for that reason. You'd loved him though.

"He's talking about this new job. Going back to America? Leaving me?" He looked hurt.  And your heart may have cracked just a tad.

"How do you know that? No one knew. I just found out?" This was bad. They probably had Kyle hacking your job. He was a wiz at that stuff.

"The same way I know your boss is secretly gay." Kyle smiled. Shaking his phone in front of him.

"This bullshit. You can't keep me here." Johnny chuckled.

"Oh bonnie. Why can't we?" Simon nodded.

"There's enough space here to add on if we need to. You can have that library you always talked about. The master is big enough for a California king. Room for all of us. And we can do your dream bathroom." You wanted to cry. "And there's no one around for miles, love. We can finally work on that garden we always talked about." He was rubbing your cheeks. You couldn’t hold back the tears.

"I want to go home Si." He shh'd you.

"I know love, I know. But this is home now. It's bigger than that townhouse anyway. Me and Johnny are gonna go pack up your stuff tomorrow, Kyle already sent your job your resignation. Everything is done." Your eyes flew to Johns.

"You can't keep encouraging this. This is not right and you know it." He only laughed while strolling to join you.

"You broke his heart sweetheart. He only wanted to love you."

"No, he wanted to share me like I was his property." A smile as his hand touched your cheek.

"To people he loved. It wasn't like he was letting strangers fuck you." You gasped.

"Fuck you, Price." A smirk and a dark glint in his eyes.

"Simon, are you punishing her?" Simon shook his head. Fear crawling up your throat.

"Have at it Captain." Then you were being yanked up and bent over John's legs.

"What the fuck-" Your jeans were being yanked down your legs, panties with them. "Stop. Fucking sto-" A loud smacked jolted you. Fire burned up your neck and across your backside.

"This is for your own good love. We only want the best for you." Simon was at your eye level, his hands soothing your red cheeks.

"Please, Simon." Tears gathered in your eyes, your throat burning. Another smack. John Price was spanking you. Like a disobedient child. The other two watched as their Captain smacked your ass, listening to the soft cries you gave. The embarrassment was otherworldly. You just wanted to hide and cry in peace.

 Twenty smacks. He gave you twenty hard smacks before letting his hand wander.

"Hmmm. Look at this, boys." His fingers pulled from your thighs wet and glistening. Somehow your cheeks grew even hotter. "Our little lamb liked it." Raising you up so you were now straddling him, he took those same fingers and waved them in front of your face. You tried to avoid his eyes but he took hold of your jaw.

"Did you like it sweetheart? Hmm?" He sucked each finger clean. "Is that why you've been so bad? Just wanted us to punish you. Bruise that pretty skin of yours?" You whimpered. "Poor thing." He waved two fingers in front of you and touched your lips with them. "Suck." He didn’t even give you time to open your mouth, just pushed them past your teeth and closed your lips. You could still taste yourself on them, somehow tangy and sweet. Simon used to spend hours between your legs, sucking and licking until you'd cry from the overstimulation. John pulled them out kissing your cheek before shoving them back between your legs and into you. You tried to pull away, but he had you in a tight grip.

"You took those spankings so well sweetheart. Let me reward you." He looked over your shoulder, eyes signaling someone. Simon's lips latched onto your neck seconds later. A whimper left you. He had your hands pressed to your chest.

"Miss you love. So fuckin' much." John was fingering you now, a loud squelching noise echoing in the room. "Such a good girl. Takin' the Captain's fingers. Such a pretty girl." You wanted to hate this. To hate every single part but you couldn't. Simon knew your sweet spots and was doing his best to hit every single one. John's fingers felt so fucking good after months of a dildo and vibrator. You were quickly climbing a hill, your body betraying you. Simon captured your lips in his, John leaning forward to suck a nipple through your t-shirt. Simon sucked the groan you gave up, smiling into your kiss. Your fingers dug into Simon's as you were reaching that ledge. You were so close and he knew it.

"She's gonna cum Sir. Just a little more." He said watching your face. His finger's joined Johns and began to rub your clit, that being the last thing you needed. With a cry you came all over the men's fingers, collapsing into John's chest. Aftershocks running through you. Your eyes felt heavy again, the last of your energy taken from you.

"That'a girl. Johnny, take her up to the room and let her rest. She's gonna be exhausted." The last thing you remember is the Scot picking you up and tucking your head under his chin.

tags: @miss-vanta-likes-to-write

[mybelovedsylus]

Play Stupid Games, Win Stupid Prizes

I have no excuse for this one. I don’t know why this is where my brain went- well I know why, because I have a dirty mind and Sylus always tells MC at the claw machine that he will buy her a machine of her own, and then pair that with the line about putting her hands on his waist if they’re free… and well. This was born. 18+ please, minors keep it moving even though it starts as fluff.

My warnings for this are that it’s just smut when you get right down to it, and that there may be misuse of a claw machine, okay he uses the claw machine to fuck her… I probably need help. Anyways enjoy as always. You know the drill it’s not proofread or edited. 2200+ words

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“You can be such a softie sometimes,” there’s a soft smile pulling on my lips causing the accusation to come out more playful than anything. I’m being led blind through the base, Sylus’ monster hands covering my eyes and most of my face as he maneuvers me through the halls. He hums in what I can only assume is agreement. Afterall, who would have thought the feared leader of Onychinus would be waiting for me to get back from my mission, waiting to cover my eyes, and waiting to present a surprise he had acquired while I was gone.

“Can I get a hint at least?”

“You don’t need a hint, the base isn’t that big, we’re here,” he leaned down at some point so I feel his warm breath caress my ear with the answer. I smuggle down the shudder that wants to run through my body at the sensation.

“So, are you going to remove your hands, or do I get the pleasure?” I tease, reaching my hands up to softly trace from his fingertips to his wrist. Without further preamble he drops them away from my eyes and I’m rapidly blinking trying to adjust to the sudden change in light. When I can finally focus I let out a gasp whirling around to face him.

“Sylus!”

“What? I told you that I would buy you your own. I mean you look so defeated the other day when we left empty handed,” his reply is soft and his eyes are warm as he looks down at me. This big oaf of a man really spent his free time while I was gone precuring a claw machine of all things. In fact…

“Wait- is this the one we always play?” I ask as I turn back, walking over to get a closer look. I let out a small laugh though when I realize all the plushies inside are the little crows I became so fond of- after all I had grown rather fond of Mephisto and it was nice to have a little reminder of him even when I was back in Linkon. (Although to be fair, he was usually trailing me. Nonetheless.) My first statement to him this evening was in fact correct, this man was softer than these silly plushies.

“Let me tell you, it was highway robbery what he made me pay, but now you can play whenever you want,” he shrugged. Nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t gone to our regular arcade and paid probably at least double what the machine was actually worth – because we played it together, and because it was something I enjoyed. I think I finally had physical proof that it was a fond memory for him too. I look back over at my shoulder at him with a cheesy grin that only spreads wider when I see him holding out a quarter for me.

After a few turns I essentially had my face pressed up against the glass, breath fogging my view, because the stupid crow wouldn’t stay in the claw. It kept getting to the point where it looked like it was going to make it to the chute, and then at the last second it slipped right out. Sylus laughing broke me out of my pseudo trance. I spun on my heel, poking him in the chest with my finger.

“Alright, you think it’s so funny, you get it.”

“While I can say watching you is more fun, I’ll show you how it’s done,” is his cocky response as he steps up to the machine. I stand on my tip toes trying to see over his shoulder as he drops the quarter in. I can’t help myself as he starts to move the joystick, tapping his shoulder just like I would do when we were out at the arcade and I was trying to tell him which one I wanted.

“I don’t think your usual antics are entirely necessary, I filled the machine entirely with the same plushie because I know it’s your favorite. However, if you need somewhere to put your hands, my waist is free.”

I don’t know how or why the idea forms, but once it begins to take shape in my mind it’s all I can think of. So I start with complying. I thread my arms around his waist, resting my cheek on the side of his arm, enjoying the feel of his muscles flexing and bunching with the small movements. When his turn resets and he gears up to aim again, my hands sneak down to his belt, deftly undoing it before moving to the button.

“Kitten,” is the growl I get in warning and I have to bite my lip to hide my smile as I flick the button open and pull his zipper down before shoving my hands straight down his boxers. He jumps and accidently presses the button, getting no where close to any of the plushies. I shake my head dramatically, smiling as he looks at me with a heated gaze.

“I thought you were going to show me how it’s done, but it looks like you can't even get close,” I repeat his words back at him with an overly innocent smile, even going so far as to flutter my lashes at him.

“You don’t know what game you’re starting,” he warns with gritted teeth as he turns back to the game.

“I’m pretty sure we’re playing the claw machine,” I mutter as I push down his boxers just enough to free his dick. It’s already well on the way to fully erect, the tip already leaking a bit of precum. I pull one of my hands back so I could lift it to my mouth and lick the entire length of my palm getting it nice and wet for easier movements. With the new lubrication, I shift my hand back and tug once playfully.

“Well don’t stop, I still want a crow,” I say sweetly, twisting my hand at the end of the pull, twisting on the head and eliciting a grunt from him and another pulse of precum. I loosen my grip on his cock, tracing the vein instead lightly with a fingertip as a challenging tease for him to keep working at the game while I play my own. I continued on with my languid pumps, enjoying listening to the way his breathing picked up in succession but deepened in tone. Soon he looked like me at the start of the game with his head propped up on the glass, his breath fogging the glass to the point that I was pretty positive he couldn’t see anything he was doing. It didn’t deter me, rather it motivated me as I tightened my grip a bit and made a quick jerk upwards.

"Fu-uck kitten just like that," he groaned thrusting up into my hand. I picked up the pace amd tightened my grip to a point that might be punishing. Sylus hit his fist against the glass as he moaned and jerked in my grip. It was around the same time that the familiar winning bells went off while the machine lit up.

“Time to show you how it’s done,” was the only warning I was issued as he took control at the speed of lightning, spinning in my hold as he switched our position, pressing me hard against the machine. The joystick dug in my back and I couldn’t even be bothered to care as he crowded into my space, bending down to take my lips in a punishing kiss. His hands were quick to work, pushing my pants over my hips and I gasped as I felt his hands pulling the fabric of my underwear until they ripped with a harsh snap. I tore my mouth from his, looking up at him in shock.

“Those were my favorite.”

“I will buy you 5 more pairs, I thought that would be obvious,” he muttered, bending to bite down on the skin of my shoulder since I had pulled back from him. I tilted my head to give him more access, tangling my hand in his hair and using the purchase to hold him against me. His fingers also moved deftly up my leg until they hit my center. He grunted curse words, finding the wetness that had flooded my panties as I worked myself up teasing him. He pulls back to stare me down as his hands glide through the wetness. I whimper as his hand leaves as quickly as it came, leaving me worked up and frustrated.

He gives me a devilish smile as he moves me slightly, dragging the hand with my slick down the joystick of the machine.

“Sylus!”

I’m shocked by the action, but more shocked as he lifts me with ease. There’s a wild look in his eyes, and suddenly I feel him moving me, until the round red plastic of the joystick is pushing against my entrance. He hesitates, watching me, giving me a chance to protest but I just stare back, working my bottom lip over with my teeth. He groans then, bending down for another kiss as he pushes me down slightly, letting the ball work it’s way in. He watches intently, and once the red is gone, he drops me and lets gravity take control. I throw my head back, banging it on the glass at the intrusion and the assault on my insides. It’s the oddest sensation and I can’t help but shift my hips. Sylus’ wild eyes flicker behind me, and I can hear the crane moving.

“Think we can catch a plushie like this?” he asks me in a deep sultry tone, his hands drifting up my legs, one stopping at my clit while the other grabs the back of my neck, helping him to angle my head up so he can plunder my mouth. He pulls his fingers away from my center and my hips automatically push forward, trying to follow the sensation. I’m rewarded with his hands returning, tracing tight circles on my clit. I’m writhing in his hold, desperate for more, needing more. You grasp for purchase as you shift your hips, trying to get some friction from the ball buried inside you. Once I find a maneuver that has it hitting that perfect spot inside me, I work my hips over and over again chasing that peak. Sylus has his gaze transfixed on my cunt, from his fingers teasing my clit, to the lewd picture of the claw machine mechanism inside me, to the wanton way I grind against it needing release.

“Oh- fuck – right - shit, almost there,” I mutter mostly incoherently working to use the machine and his hand to get you there. I am struggling to keep your eyes open, Sylus now using his hand more forcefully to work my clit and also assist in my grinding movements.

“That’s it, what a welcome to my gift. I think if this is how we use it every time I could be really into this whole plushie thing,” he says breathlessly, looking at me with the gaze of a wild predator, pupils blown wide. I can feel my wetness dripping down from the part of the joystick not inside me, down onto the machine.

“Look at you making a mess, it’s going to be all sticky, we may even have to buy another one because your slick may stop the mechanisms from functioning,” Sylus halfheartedly reprimands while also pulling my legs farther apart so he can get a better view. His words, partnered with the ministrations, finally push me over the edge. I grasp the edge of the controls and clench my eyes shut, calling out Sylus’ name as I crest over the wave. My chest is heaving, and my vision blacks a little. As I come back to myself, I realize he is smoothing my hair and rubbing his thumb over my cheek, his gaze watching me closely.

“You okay there, kitten?” he asks with a gentle grin. All I can do is nod, leaning back against the glass, enjoying the cooling feeling of it through my top. I can’t believe I just defiled the machine like this with him still wearing half your clothes no less – we were no better than horny teenagers sometimes. How long has he been cooking this idea up? I had a good feeling that was one of the motivators to the machine actually coming home.

“Alright, we’re going to relocate this to the bedroom now,” he warns me gently and I smile up at him, putting my hands around his neck as he helps lift me off the joystick. I moan, clutching him to me tightly at the pull. A desperate groan rips from my throat as it pops free and I suddenly feel empty. Sylus lets out a guttural noise of his own as he looks at the way the plastic glistens.

“I almost don’t want to clean it.”

“Gross, Sy,” I hit his chest halfheartedly. It’s interesting I feel somewhat worn out, but also still worked up, and I've definitely noted that Sylus’ cock is an angry shade of red with precum steadily leaking. “Take me to bed.”

“Oh wait – can’t leave without our prizes,” he mutters, setting you down before he bends to collect the crow from the slot. However, I was only expecting the one he caught and instead he’s holding two proudly.

“This one is staying here forever as my trophy, the first of I hope many caught by your pussy,” he says with what feels like reverence, and despite the fact that I was just an active participant, I can feel my cheeks heating at the memory. This man. Although, I do find myself clenching down at the idea – I wouldn’t be that upset for a repeat performance, or for whatever scenario he’s probably already got cooking up.

[marzipanilla]

once more the lines between what convos we're having where are blurring in my brain lol

There was that .5 seconds at the beginning of S2 where Mark DID agree to be on Cecil's leash, and is he just like foaming at the mouth wishing for those days back? Like you HAD a chance to have some control of that kid and you totally lost it by trying to heavy hand him with the memory of his dad. I guess 'go to college w your gf and take some time off' was the extent of Cecil trying to reign Mark in politely, and now he's just going full throttle on the fuck you too.

Plus, is the show going to acknowledge how scared Cecil is about Mark constantly breaking in to see him and the fact he CONSTANTLY TELEPORTS DIRECTLY INTO DEBBIE'S HOUSE and is actively spying on her like. sir. you too are a fucking uncontrollable menace. Maybe let's parallel that? How dare Mark do the things you constantly do to his family! Maybe think about what you WERE teaching him.

Mark and Even pulling an 'I'm on vacation' a la Nolan during their date about the portal that opens up next to them is WILD. Like oh ? Helping people is such a fucking chore is it? And like yeah, be annoyed it disrupts your life! But- if it annoys you so fucking much, WHY ARE YOU DOING IT? Tell me why you two WANT to be heroes goddamn it!

In the comic it was stated that they were going to use 'hologram' tech from the GDA to make Oliver not appear purple, but since the Graysons have a much more contentious relationship w Cecil in the show (don't get me wrong the Mark - Cecil ear bug breakup DOES happen they just were never so buddy buddy) it seems like they just didn't want to bring up the idea that Cecil was helping them I guess ?? I mean, Cecil is the one who does all the paperwork so Debbie can adopt Oliver in the comics as well. They are so far removed from each other in the comics its funny, like she full on calls him Mr Stedman and he calls her Ms Grayson like those two have NEVER interacted for more than five seconds in the comic while the show implies all this insane shit that we never see lol

Is Amazon producing or just distributing? I haven't looked too much into the studio behind the actual animation, though I know it is small. If this show is a big draw for them (and idk if it actually is) you'd think they'd be willing to spend some fucking money on it. I will never not be bitter over the rings of power budget. refuse to watch that show, never will- but all that money that could have gone to other projects- like damn. Where's the billion dollar animation budget timeline, universe. WHERE

It does seem to really be some control thing for Cecil, bc he has finally met people he can't control. And this is a guy who is used to the 'most powerful' superhero team on the planet doing whatever he says! Like sir, you can talk all you want about saving the world vs being good people (a very easily debatable topic already imo), but at the end of the day it seems like you're more annoyed people aren't coming when you call. Is the real reason you keep bringing Donald back bc you didn't decide to retire him yet ?? like ??

Invincible lives in this weird space in my brain where I'm like, are you trying to say 'haha isn't this all fucked up actually look at how BAD these outcomes would be' and 'actually these ARE the ideas and morals I think heroes could represent' and BOTH ideas just fall a little flat bc it's like.. I can argue either way, but not well- so it's not like you're making a compelling or full argument. And there could be an intended ambiguity in asking certain questions but not providing the answers to questions in a text, but it VERY MUCH feels like Invincible wants me to have a clear stance on things except it can't tell me what those stances are, bc they don't know.

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.