#idk after all the shit i deal with being a system

[varietyshiw]

a silly little comic i made about plurality & unmasking

[phagodyke]

why are glasses so expensiveeeee

[satoruan]

CONJUGAL VISIT w/jujutsu Kiasen

Description: in which an inmate of a prison or jail is permitted to spend several hours or days in private with a visitors

More: Fem!Reader, explicit content, unprotected sex, some d/s dynamics with Toji, American prison system? (idk if other countries allow this lol?) 

☾ Ryomen Sukuna 

He's been in solitary for so long that you start to think you'll never see him again. He finally fixes his attitude enough to come in contact with others and eventually gets some visitation rights. Get used to having sex with him here because the guards inform you he isn't leaving for a long time.

 “s’too much Kuna!” You whine into the flat pillow but your boyfriend Sukuna could care less and keeps pounding into you from behind.

“Think I care slut? Been away from this pussy for months now, shut up and take what I give you.” He grits out, pushing deeper into your back with one hand, fisting your hair with the other. He’d be damned if you tell him what to do after all this time away. Do you know how spineless he had to act in order to get this visit, on his ‘best behavior’, desperate to finally be able to sink in some cunt after being surrounded by irrelevant men and guards with their heads up their asses?

“Feels s’good,” you moan when Sukuna hits your special spot. “I’m gonna cum!”

“That fast slut, it hasn't even been ten minutes” He chuckles, leaning down to bite your shoulder.

“Missed you, ‘Kuna, c-cant cum ‘out you.”

“Can’t do shit without me, bet you can’t even function out there without me,” He groans in your hair, you don't understand half of what he’s saying you just nod mindlessly and slam your hips back on his cock.

“Then cum on my cock, whore.”

☾ Gojo Satoru 

He's on a mission that requires him to go to jail. The prison warden is in on it, but that doesn't mean your boyfriend doesn't want to experience the "real deal." He convinces the warden to allow him weekly fuck sessions because he says he can't complete the mission without them.

“i-Im gonna cum ‘Toru!” you whine aloud, to far gone to be embarrassed that your boyfriend is fucking you on scratchy sheets in a bed that probably hasn’t been thoroughly cleaned in years or the fact that multiple other girls have probably been in the same position you’re in with other inmates, on the same bed.

“So tight love, haven't you been using your dildos in my absence?’ he questions as he thrusts into your glistening cunt. Watching as you throw your head back, tears running down your cheeks.

“They’re too small ‘Toru!” You wrap your legs around his hard ass trying to get him as deep as he can.

“Aww, they can't make you cum as hard as I can, can they love?” he pouts against your swollen lips. You shake your head furiously, listening to the sounds your squelching cunt makes when he thrust back in, his balls slapping hard against your ass.

“Think i'll ask if I can get out early on good behavior. I can't leave my girl unsatisfied now.” He chuckles before diving his tongue into your mouth.  

☾ Toji Fushiguro 

Your mans got locked up again! This isn't the first time, nor will it be the last. You don’t know how he convinces the guards to allow you to visit time and time again, but you won't complain. You always miss him when he's gone every few months. The guard just sighs when he sees you’re here for visitation again

“You miss me, little girl?” he grins, sticking thick fingers in your already sopping cunt. “You know I always miss you when you’re gone, daddy.” You gasp, your back hitting the cold concrete wall behind you when Toji curls into your g-spot. 

“So so bad.” you whine, grinding your aching clit on his hard stomach, legs tightening around his slim waist when you find the perfect spot.

“You wanna cum little girl?” he asks while marking up your neck. He needs others to know you’re taken and if he can't be around you at the moment he’ll make it known another way.

“Yes Toji!” You scream.

“Yes what?” He stops his fingers.

“Yes daddy,” you whisper, moving your hips desperate to not lose the orgasm you were chasing. “Please make me come daddy, please!” 

“That's what I thought little girl” He says before continuing his movements and biting down on your heavy bottom lip.

☾ Choso Kamo

Too ashamed that he ended up in prison to allow you to visit him for a while. After much reassurance from you that you don’t look at him differently he finally comes out of his shell and makes friends. Get’s out early on good behavior.

“You think someones watching?” You mumble, looking back at the camera in the corner of the dark lit room.

“F-fuck baby, don’t fuckin’ stop,” Choso whines, gripping your waist, trying to make you bounce on his stiff cock. ‘Who cares if they are, baby? They won’t touch.”

You turn back around and grin down at your boyfriend “mmm, isn't that how you got in here in the first place Choso, beating up a man for touching me?” You start grinding on his cock again.

“Do anything for you, baby.” He moans gripping your waist when your tight walls start squeezing down on him, trying hard not to bust a nut so quickly.

“Yeah,” you moan out, feeling his cock twitch in you. “Now you’re stuck in here for months away from me.” You pout and claw at his chest when Choso starts to bounce you on his cock. God, if only he didn’t beat that man up you’d have this every night.

“Worth it.” He looks up at the camera, imagining the security guard looking down at your ass recoil when he slams you down on his cock

[baejax-the-great]

One of the things missing in Veilguard is any sort of meaningful power struggle. By keeping to the poorer parts of the city-settings, we don't really deal with corrupt or powerful nobles. By defanging the Crows, an organization who famously has lethal squabbles between factions, they turned them into some weird, benevolent family organization. Even the assassin trying to make "evil" power plays doesn't actually manage to kill any of his targets, and his ruthless relatives? Also don't kill him in revenge. In the end, the status quo is maintained. Nothing has changed.

In Tevinter, we have the Threads, an organized crime unit who we know runs "protection" rackets on the locals and is involved in some kind of smuggling (it's Tevinter--so presumably this would involve slavery and dangerous artifacts, but it's Veilguard, so I guess not). Instead of them beefing with the Shadow Dragons, who presumably ruin some of their deals with their pesky "freeing the slaves" thing, and instead of their main issue being with any sort of law enforcement, something which doesn't exist in Veilguard beyond one singular templar who does all of jack shit the entire game, their main power struggle is with the Venatori, who are evil just to be evil.

And instead of the Veilguard siding with law enforcement or the threads and enlisting their help to, idk, unseat the corrupt head of the templars or otherwise deal with the venatori shit, the threads are highly favored by the storyline, and in the end the only real choice is to make Neve a thread or to make her... idk, the same Neve? The game calls her an "inspiration", but it's not like she's part of any organization, so we can't call her a figurehead. It's just like, see that random citizen right there? She rules. And I don't really see how that increases the power of the rule of law, because even if one good person is working within rule of law to get things done, she's not part of the system, and everyone already know the system is corrupt in Minrathous. Random citizens in fucking Ferelden know the system is corrupt in Minrathous, or they would if they weren't all dead. Neve is now just playing on hard mode to appear righteous, which, good for her, but I'm sorry, won't inspire all that many people who are still paying "protection" money to the local mafia.

(Putting Neve in charge of the Threads is an absolutely whackadoodle decision by the devs that I don't even know how to respond to. She has a single Thread contact. Presumably the Threads have a hierarchy. She has never demonstrated interest in being a smuggler. Being a detective really has no overlap with being a crime boss. Telling a group of criminals that they are all detective's helpers now is sure to go over like a lead balloon. What the fuck was that. Why did that happen.)

Maevaris and Dorian arguing came out of nowhere and lasted a fairly long time, which was interesting, but after the most recent election in the states, Maevaris's position sounds unbearably naive and trite, and this hardly counts as a power struggle as they both say they will support the other depending on what some random outsider thinks should happen. (That is soooo not a basis for a system of government. Why would Maevaris OR Dorian cede their power to Rook, someone they don't know and who doesn't matter)

The power struggle within the Wardens is also very stupid and easily solved. The First Warden is a moron. He dies (kind of). For some reason the extremely hot and competent couple who we first encounter in the middle of nowhere are next in command, so, phew. Problem solved there. A question of what the Wardens will do now that the Blights are over would have been interesting. Do they keep recruiting lest the Blight somehow reoccur and nobody remembers the Warden secrets? Or do they disband? Do they set themselves to seeking a cure and nothing else?

The closest you get to that is deciding what the griffons will do, which, again, why the fuck is Rook deciding that, but also there are 13 of them, in two or three more generations they will be dead unless a lot of mages bone up on genetics real fast.

Who is left? We have Rivain, which is just pointless in this game. I played as a Lord of Fortune, but you could drop that faction and not a single thing changes in the game. Pirates who don't loot valuable artifacts because they are elvhen? Give me a fucking break.

Same for the Mourn Watch. There is pretty much nothing going on in that region. You could excise it from the game and nothing changes in the slightest. There is not a single excuse for them not using the Eluvians to help the Veilguard earlier in the game, given just how little they have going on.

The Veiljumpers are just missed opportunities all over the place. They could have had factions debating whether to join the god of vengeance in fucking up the human civilizations as payback for, you know, everything. They could have had people joining Cyrion in thinking that a Forgotten One might be the best way to face down the gods, given they'd done it before. There could have been a HUGE cultural impact on "what do we do now that we know our gods are evil fuckfaces--what do we keep and what do we throw away," but Veilguard ain't that deep. They could have had knowledge of a super-weapon or some elvhen bullshit that would help the Veilguard fight the gods... but nah.

In DAO, your decisions not only affected the political futures of the various regions, but they decided who would help you and how. Did the dwarves have golems? Did you have templars or mages? That whole wolf thing with the Dalish that I no longer remember that well? And the Dalish deciding to help changed how they were viewed in Ferelden. The mages helping you meant the monarch would treat them favorably. It fucking mattered.

In Veilguard, the only situation remotely close to that is the dragon decision at the beginning, which was one of the fucking dumbest plot points in a video game I have ever played. It was the first thing that made me set my controller down and go... what? What the fuck? The idea that Rook, a nobody, is the only person singularly capable of driving back a dragon in the entire north is laughable. What the fuck was Dorian up to that day? How is Rook more capable than every single Crow? How is it the two companions you sent to the other city were absolutely useless? If Lucanis/Neve + two companions were unable to drive a dragon away, what makes them think Rook would be the deciding factor? What makes them blame Rook when they themselves couldn't fucking do it? Neve in particular was a big part of fucking up that ritual and releasing the gods, so why is Rook taking all the fire for this?

AND WHY IS THEIR RESPONSE TO A BLIGHT TO FIND A SINGLE DRAGON HUNTER? HEY DIPSHITS, THE DRAGON IS HUNTING YOU. YOU DON'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THAT PART. YOU NEED AN ARMY.

But Treviso or Minrathous being spared doesn't change the global political situation at all. It would have been really interesting if it did. Tevinter hobbled? How many kingdoms would be salivating to take a bite out of their territory? With the trade princes of Antiva being absolutely fucked over by the Blight, who is taking over that trade? Who is getting rich?

Nobody, I guess, because why would Rook know or care about that, because, as previously mentioned, they are a nobody who doesn't matter and honestly shouldn't be listened to.

The stakes in this game are nothing because the bad guys are all so obviously bad that you know, as a video game player, that you are going to defeat them. Oh, the Antaam are just mindless, faceless brutes fucking up Treviso? Okay, let's kill them. Venatori again? I'm pretty sure they aren't the heroes of this game. There's no power struggle, and in the end all we've done is revert to the status quo, (except i guess Treviso is no longer occupied).

Except for the south. The south is dead. but we didn't have anything to do with that for some reason. Couldn't even be bothered to house some refugees in our safehouse that was built specifically to house refugees. The Inquisitor, who has access to the eluvians, couldn't figure out how to get other people through them or something so... sorry, every single Orlesian, Fereldan, and Marcher.

[awkwardandeccentric]

I think Octavia knows more than she’s letting on.

Let me preface this by saying I will not allow any Octavia slander or victim-blaming for Stolas. Octavia is a child and Stolas is surviving domestic violence. It’s an on-site block if I see that nonsense.

Having said that

Going off my own experiences watching my parents, I always knew something was…off. I couldn’t place it. I couldn’t name it. I was too young to understand the concept of abuse. My parents were married. They loved each other…right?

Unlike Stella and Stolas, my parents actually had loved each other at some point. But that didn’t change the fact that my earliest memories are of extreme stress, living in tension I didn’t cause but felt it was my job to fix. If I couldn’t fix it, I needed to avoid it.

Octavia seems to go the avoiding route. She plays music whenever she can, she tries to stay out of her parents’ way, and she doesn’t react at all to her mom throwing her dad’s plants around or screaming while tossing their butler at him.

Stella, by abusing Stolas, is also abusing Octavia. How do you think that affects her? Even if Stolas and Stella keep the worst of it away from her, she’s still hearing her mother use racist, degrading language towards her father and seeing Stella be violent with his things. She’s still learning that that’s an acceptable response to stress. Having a parent lose their shit at you for the simplest of things also dysregulates your nervous system. Chronic yelling is abusive because it puts you into fight/flight/freeze mode 24/7. That’s going to wreak havoc on your mind and body. Octavia has learned to keep her head down and stay invisible so she doesn’t have to deal with it (as is not her job. The abuser is always 100% at fault for the abuse. It’s also not a child’s job to protect a parent).

We also know she had nightmares as a kid of Stolas vanishing. I’ve seen speculation that this is her powers manifesting and I don’t disagree- this is a fantasy show- but I also think her subconscious knows there’s danger in her home. Her little five-year-old mind knows something is very wrong and the consequence of things not being made right is her father disappearing (and she was right. Stolas is only alive because Andrealphus convinced Stella to call off the hit).

We also never see her actually interact with Stella. Every time she talks about her parents, she’s either talking about Stolas as an individual or both of them as a unit. There’s no portraits of her playing with Stella. She never mentions good memories of Stella. She knows subconsciously that Stella is an unsafe, uninvolved parent and Stolas is her safe place.

Except, Stolas is fighting back.

There’s this thing that’s not talked about often called ‘reactive abuse.’ It’s when the victim is pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed until they yell back or hit back. And then the abuser gets to turn around and say “oh my god you’re so abusive how could you do this to me??”

When Octavia is complaining about Stolas and Stella “screaming at each other” I think what she’s actually seeing is Stolas pushed to his limit and biting back after 17 years of keeping himself as small and quiet as possible. But because she doesn’t have this language or knowledge, to her, it looks like he’s fighting with Stella, the known aggressor, for no reason.

Where am I going with this? Idk. Set this girl up with a case worker and a workbook on domestic abuse.

[miguel-ohara-lover]

Badboy!miguel x nerdygirl reader

Where like badboy!miguel has an interest into this one specific nerd (which is reader) always trying get her attention,doing anything to impress her,even when she clearly doesn't want to deal with him, and that just get miguel to play harder,until one day he saw reader laughing and smile hard while blushing mess with an boy,causing anger to boil inside of him,veins popping but he doesn't show it,he wait until the end of the day and beat the hell of the boy, and grabing reader an pinned her down to an wall dealing her with his large body, this makes her scared and feel small she never saw him so angry before.

You could put nfsw if you'll like

Oh boy the one everyone’s craving… that’s a lot of pressure haha

Head Over Heels

(Badboy!Miguel x Nerdy!F!Reader)

CW: NSFW, yandere type shit, beating, too big, college, dirty talk in Spanish (all characters are well over 18)

Random note: I know you didn’t say it specifically but “Badboy” and “nerdy” makes me think school so college? Yeah idk sorry-

Miguel O’Hara watched as you walked through the courtyard. He loved to watch your skirt bounce, the pleated fabric swaying as you so elegantly made your way across campus. There were practically hearts in his eyes as his gaze never left your gorgeous form. You never noticed him of course. Part of him wished you would. But the other part was happy with his little secret. Stalking was such an ugly word, but how else would one define his actions?

[I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention]

There were times he did try, tried to get you to even look at him. Those weeks he felt particularly desperate. His throat was dry, skin warm to the touch. It was as if he were sent into a heat. Those days he couldn’t stay away, couldn’t stay in the bushes watching silently. Miguel would get close to you, enough to brush against you and take in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

[You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time]

“Oh- sorry!” You looked up at him, apologizing for bumping into his arm. You hadn’t known at the time it was on purpose.

His face flushed as he looked down at you, your voice sent shocks through his body. “It… it’s alright.” He managed to mutter as you walked away, having seen your friends approaching.

That one encounter played in his mind on repeat over and over again. The one time you had spoken to him. You were so sweet, so kind to him, it made his dick twitch in his pants. Your voice was like music to his ears, he couldn’t get enough of it. Until then he had been content just watching you from affair. Now, he needs to hear you. He needs to hear that angelic voice.

[Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away]

It soon developed into Miguel not being so hidden. After months of stalking, he finally started making real moves. He liked bringing you gifts, offering you rides places, offering to help with your assignments. You accepted, of course, who wouldn’t accept such kind gestures. He seemed like a lovely friend. You thought that’s all it was, a new friendship blooming, and that he was just a generous man. You thanked him many times, and he’d always respond with something about it being no big deal, and that he just likes seeing you smile.

His response was bullshit. It was a big deal. It was a huge deal to him. Every tiny action was important to him. Hearing you call him a friend, a pal, a buddy… It drove him mad. He wanted you to want him. He needed you to need him. He needed you, needed your body, your voice, your touch… He would do anything. No matter how obvious he made it, you never caught on. Perhaps you did and were just playing hard to get. He wasn’t sure. But either way, he hated it.

Miguel brought you flowers, chocolates, made valentines day such a big deal. He even called your little get togethers “dates”. He got no response, which made him more desperate. This you caught onto and started to irritate you. You loved Miguel dearly, but only as a friend. He never seemed to get that. He just wasn’t your type. He’s the leather-jacket-motorcycle-riding-cigarette-smoking “bad boy” of the university. You’d much rather stay in your dorm reading a nice book or finishing up your assignments. Not galivanting around town on a bike that is super dangerous while smoking which is also super dangerous and scaring the weaker students.

You hoped one day he’d move on, and even tried to set him up with one of your friends. She seemed much more his style, “goth” as you called it. She was much more punk than “goth” but didn’t care enough to correct your misunderstanding. They seemed to get along well. They hung out a few times, and she started to look forward to seeing him. You thought maybe he finally would move on, and so could you. She would always call you to talk about how much fun they had, how he took her for late night drives on his bike and such.

Even with this new friend he had, Miguel still wanted you. His persistence never let up; he still wanted you. So, when he saw you in the courtyard with a handsome fellow, his arm draped around your shoulders, he was filled with rage. An intense fury filled him, fiery passion burned within as he watched you. Someone was touching his girl. He couldn’t stand that.

The longer he watched, the angrier he became. Who did this guy think he was? He didn’t deserve you, he didn’t deserve to see that smile, to hear your angelic laugh. You giggled at whatever this dickhead was telling you. Miguel scoffed to himself. What could he say that earned a laugh from you? No one knew you like he did. He certainly wouldn’t let this dick get away with this. Miguel wouldn’t- no, couldn’t let him get away with being so handsy, so touchy so… affectionate with his girl.

You blushed as this man talked to you, his voice so smooth and sultry. Miguel hated it. He hated seeing another man make your cheeks flush. He wanted that to be him. He would make sure it was him, no one else. No one else could even look at you, touch you, make you feel oh so good like he could. You didn’t know it yet, but no one would be as good to you as Miguel. Only Miguel. He needed to do something.

That night, he followed your new boytoy back to the men’s dorms. Miguel Stalked behind this man for a good ten minutes before pulling him down an unlit hallway, covering his mouth with a large hand to hide any screams. He struggled and strained against Miguel but was helpless in that tight grip. Miguel pushed him to the ground and started kicking him repeatedly, saying things about you being his and only his. He repeated phrases about not going near you again, never speaking to you again, not even looking at you or passing you in the hallway. You belonged to him.

After the attack he left the guy laying there on the ground, bloody and severely bruised… and maybe with a broken rib or two just to really get the message across. Now he had to find you. He needed to. He needed to see you, to hold you in his arms. He’s sure you’ll need comfort when you realize your boy toy is ghosting you, and he’s just the man to provide said comfort.

Miguel grinned when he saw you making your way to your dorm. You were alone. Perfect. He made his way over to you, coming up behind you and snaking his arms around your waist. The gesture made your heart jump. A million thoughts ran through your hand, wondering if you were being attacked or if your boy toy was trying to scare you. He leaned down and nuzzled his face against your neck. That’s when you saw his hair and caught the familiar smell of Miguel. He smelt of subtle cologne and smoke.

“Miguel? What are you doing?” You turned your head to look at him. He didn’t reply as his hands wandered over you. As much as you hated to admit it, this was kind of hot… His hands were so big, and glided so expertly over your frame, over every curve. They cupped your breasts perfectly, and you let out a quiet moan as he started to knead gently. “M-Mig… let’s take this somewhere more private-” Before you finished your sentence, he scooped you up in those strong arms and carried into a darker hallway.

“This’ll do, cariño.” He growled into your ear. His large body pressed you into the wall, making you unable to escape now. He towered over you, hands on either side of your head to keep you right where he wanted you. You blushed as you looked up at him, a playful smirk on his lips. Miguel leaned down and kissed you passionately, a hand moving to cup your cheek as the other made its way down to your skirt. He pushed the fabric up your thigh, his touch sending shivers through your body. You returned the kiss, your arms reaching around his neck to keep him close.

You gave into him, let him do what he wanted despite every moral instinct in you saying this is wrong. You had always thought you could never be with someone like Miguel, that you two were just too different for each other. But fuck… the way his hands moved… all those ideals of what the perfect guy for you was crumbled away, replaced by the thought that the only one for you was Miguel. He had succeeded in doing exactly what he wished, he wanted you to be only his, and he got that.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt a thick finger rub against your wet panties. Miguel smirked when he felt just how soaked you were, pulling your panties to the side and dragging a finger through your slick folds. You shuddered and let out a moan as his finger grazed your clit.

“Qué dulces sonidos, mami.” Miguel groaned in your ear as he traced circles around your clit, listening to the heavenly moans leaving your mouth. Your hand quickly moved to his waistline, fumbling with his belt haphazardly as you urgently tried to free what you so desperately wanted. He chuckled at your desperation, bringing his hand down to assist you. He slid his belt off, letting you drag his pants and boxers down. You watched as his erection sprang free, face flushed red as the wetness between your thighs increased.

He smirked and pressed against your body more, his cock sliding between your folds, He covered his length in your slick before pressing the tip to your hole. Fuck, he’s big… Almost too big… You thought to yourself. Miguel knew this would be a tight squeeze, but he didn’t care anymore. You cried out as he shoved his erection inside you, stretching your hole so much with barely any time to adjust. He groaned as your walls contracted around him more, and he captured your lips in another kiss to quiet you down a bit.

You moaned into his mouth as he pushed into you further and held one of your legs up, allowing him to slide even deeper. Miguel continued to push in until his hips met yours, giving you time to adjust. That pause only lasted a few seconds, however, before he started thrusting. His pace was slow to begin with, he loved listening to your whines and moans as his length moved in and out of your cunt. He trailed kisses down your jawline and neck, his hands holding onto your waist. He groaned as your walls tightened around him more, his nails digging into the soft skin of your waist as he tries to keep himself composed.

He picked up his speed, fucking you into the bricks. He didn’t want to finish before you, even though he felt practically edged since he first laid eyes on you. He was determined to make you finish first, to prove you needed him just as much as he needed you. You gasped and moaned as his pace quickened, the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot over and over. You felt a familiar heat forming in your gut and he rutted into you like a desperate animal, your hands gripping his jacket to keep him close.

“M-Miguel…” You moaned and your grip tightened a bit. You felt so close already, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. He felt it too and tried so hard to keep himself together. His hips stuttered, thrusts losing the pattern he set. Your voice didn’t help, hearing you say his name so cute and sweet just fueled the flames of his lust. Miguel dipped his head down, hiding his face against your neck.

Miguel groaned and grunted as he felt his release approaching. You gasped and moaned as your orgasm ripped through you. He groaned when he felt your walls contract once more, causing him to release inside you as his hips stuttered more. He fucked you slow and deep, pushing his cum in further as it spilled inside you. You rode out your orgasms together, his hands moving down to your ass and kneading gently as you both came down from your highs.

You whimpered a little as the overstimulation, his cock slowing to a stop before he pulled out. He fixed your panties, keeping all that cum inside you, and he let your skirt fall back down around your thighs. Your skin felt so hot, every brush of his fingers sent a wave of heat through your body. You’re in a daze as Miguel fixes his pants.

“My dorm or yours?” His voice brought you out of your daze and you looked up at him.

“Hm? You know we can’t have each other in our dorms.” You chuckled a little.

“Like I care about that.” Miguel smirked a little as he pulled you into a kiss.

————

@theaussiedragon @jukioku @https-gassen @your-antares-universe @camzzn @kaqua @aug-ust69 @zaunsin @honeycomb-biscuits @lookingforgoodthings @lalalalala-888 @bustmybrain @downbadforurmom @m3wh0 @loosecan @qiaipia @ozzmodeus-main @nobloggy-onlyread @beingdeluluisthesolulu @whosking @irmiki @obsessed-with-miguels-ass @jasmineandmatcha @bookmark-anon @sarapaprikas-blog @gaby-3 @they-love-snacks @anakinskywalkerwhore @strrchasm @gecko290 @thel0velykey190

[bookdragon6127]

Some hazbin hotel thoughts and theories because I still have brain rot. These might just be the sleep deprivation but they’re stuck in my brain:

1. Alastor is bound to Lilith or eve right and the deal is to dethrone Lucifer and get Charlie in power (because she's the most naïve) which is pointed to by Alastor's lines in the song with the cannibals

1.5 Lilith betraying Lucifer and Charlie is going to be *gut wrenching* both because of Charle loving and looking up to her mother and then Lucifer being turned on by the woman he fell with

2. Alastor's power is restrained because he sold his soul to one of the above and part of the deal was that he couldn't be a heavy hitter because then he wouldn't have been able to gain Charlie's trust when the time came. Hence why he had to disappear. It's also so he didn't just destroy the entire hotel/have collateral damage

3. Alastor is going to force Lucifer into making a deal holding Charlie as leverage and that is how he gets out of his deal- both/either fulfilling his end of the bargain or it's just more powerful and overrides it essentially

4. Lilith/Eve will be the main big bad and Charlie will have a mental breakdown because this woman she idolized really is evil. Lucifer is just a depressed lil guy but Lilith/Eve saw being banished to hell as a way to get power but she's a smart mfer She's playing the long game

5. The series will end with Charlie as an Angel but still serving hell. Idk it's a hunch

5.5. Maybe they’ll explore more of Charlie being half angel especially after seeing her full power and all the fun tricks she can do. How cute would it be with Lucifer to teach Charlie

6. Vox looked up to Alastor when he was a baby overlord and once he got power, he tried to go to Alastor because he was his idol but Alastor pulls his "do I know you"shit (iconic)

7. We’re going to either meet god in season two which will lead to tensions with Lucifer obviously or find out there is no god and the system in place is running on auto pilot

8. Emily will either fall or overpower sera/take over to help Charlie and redoing heaven’s whole system and that’s why/when Charlie ends up an Angel

9. Alastor was referring to Eve when he told Adam “you should know better than anyone what can happen when a soul takes charge of their fate”

10. Lucifer cannot defend sinners as part of the whole extermination thing but once Charlie was actually attacked he was able to intervene (because she is hellborn and they aren’t part of the extermination)

11. Lilith’s deal with Adam is driving me crazy and I’m so curious what it is but my thought is that it’s as simple as she would stop rallying the sinners but she wanted to stay in heaven for it (which maybe meant she got to learn more about it so then she can influence Charlie as her almost figure head on the throne OR when she takes the throne herself)

[guppybibi]

Not much of a Romancer..

𖦹 pairing: Necromancer!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x ghost!fem!reader

𖦹 word count: 1543

𖦹 content: Dead Johnny (shockers), most likely inaccurate information, maybe ooc, mild cursing, i feel like this will be a rushed slowburn

𖦹 notes: the definitions are from google lmao, idk how necromancy works but..how do u do dialogue what.

Necromancy, the practice of magic involving communication with the dead by summoning their spirits, a certain act that Simon wasn't familiar with. Yet, at least. He’s been browsing through local libraries whenever he isn't deployed, researching on this topic. It never really piqued his interest to begin with, you know? Well, not until Johnny brought it up once. It stuck with him since.

“Aye whin ah die L.T., mak' sure tae git an ouija boord or learn necromancy sae we kin still talk.” He joked, already tipsy from the amount of alcohol in his system. Simon knew he was kidding, the man was bloody drunk after all. The idea didn't seem..horrible though. Would it really work? Could he still talk with Johnny or the other undead by simply using a haunted board or using witchcraft?

Now that Johnny really was gone, it wouldn't hurt to try it out, right? Simon chose to use the Ouija board first as it looked easier than to learn literal black magic. And did it work? It definitely did! Except he wasn't talking to Johnny’s spirit, instead he was talking to a fucking demon. That could also be the late Sergeant messing with him but he wasn't taking any chances of being possessed by an actual demon, he had enough demons he was fighting internally, he didn't need any more. So he turned to the last option in his book which was learning necromancy, which certainly wasn't easier.

First, he went and browsed the endless world wide web, finding tips and tricks of what you're supposed to do or not do. It was quite useful, being able to learn in the comfort of his own house was convenient. One of the few downsides of researching on the net is the fact that the internet was a cobweb of all sorts of false information, just waiting for the users to fall right into their sticky trap. Simon wasn't one of them though, he wasn't one to trust that easily, especially strangers. So he went to the public library, a place he hasn't been to in years.

It felt like he was out of place to say the least, every heavy step he took made the aged floorboards creak, earning the librarian’s stern glare every time while he nodded his head to silently apologize. So far, the most important thing he learned to keep in mind in necromancy is respect. After all, it was the undead he was disturbing. To never forget to say things like “please” and “thank you” deemed easy enough. Sure he was a cold-hearted man, a lot of people were skeptical if he even had one in him, but he wasn't a disrespectful man. So he kept these things in mind, they were easy enough to do anyway.

So, after months of researching he finally decided to start his very first ritual. He got some chalk, some white candles to repel any negative spirit, he would've chosen to use tea candles but that wasn't the better option. Get it? Because Brits like tea? Well there were a bunch of different methods he could've used, but he chose this so it better work. He was taking this chance, the chance to speak to Johnny again, to properly say goodbye.

At last, it was time. It was the dead of night, Simon decided to perform the ritual in an abandoned building. He managed to accurately set everything up, proving that the months of studying necromancy was worth it. Then, he started the long awaited ritual. It started out smoothly, with him reciting chants and doing whatever was required for him to do. He was anticipating to hear an annoying Scottish accent to come out soon, but instead he heard..a high pitched voice? From what he could tell, it was no doubt a woman. Shit, did he just summon the spirit of an unknown dead woman? Well he had to deal with this, he can only hope it wasn't a hostile spirit. It’s his responsibility now, he can't just shove your soul back into the afterlife.

“I was having a really good rest, ya know..” The spirit starts. “Until a certain someone here decided to ruin it.” She glares at the masked man in front of her, making Simon feel like he was being pierced by sharp needles. “Sorry, that wasn't my intention.” He states the truth, sighing when he realizes his first attempt at speaking to Johnny failed. He should clean up and get going before he pisses you off even more. So he does just that, cleaning up after himself and packing up. “Hey hey, stop right there big guy.” She calls out, disappearing from where she was and reappearing right in front of him.

“You bothered my peaceful slumber, now I’m bothering you!” She announces proudly as if she had just said the best idea for vengeance. Okay, maybe it was because Simon’s ears were already starting to ring from your voice. “Sure, go follow me or whatever.” He said with an indifferent tone, he’s been through the worst things. Things that also caused his ear to ring and rupture, so he could surely handle this. From what he could tell, you seemed like you just wanted to provoke him. That's fine, at least you meant no harm. Physically at least.

And so, you did indeed follow him. No matter the occasion, rainy or sunny, you’d be right there beside him like a pesky shadow. Unless he went to the bathroom, that's where you’d finally cross the line. You still waited for him out the door like a clingy dog though. That was when he was not deployed though, you weren't exactly aware of him being a lieutenant..Sure his room seemed very soldier-like and had remnants of proof all over but he could've been just a military enthusiast or something!

Now here he was, packing all of the essentials as he prepares for deployment while you watch him intently. “Seriously? 3-in-1 shampoo? It's not even scented!” She bitches, concerned about his hygiene routine. “It's efficient and convenient.” He answers dryly, continuing to shove all of the necessities in his bags. “Where are you going anyways? Vacation?” To which he scoffs at, do you really think he's bringing a pistol to a vacation? “Did the afterlife take all of your wits too? I’m getting deployed.”

“..Deployed?” She questions. “I’m in the army.” And with that, her eyes are as wide as saucers. “Excuse me, no wait–excuse you? And you never bothered mentioning it to me once!” Then he cuts you off. “You never bothered to tell me your name. I think we're in pretty similar situations.” Her mouth is instantly zipped, he did have a point. “Oh right..well it isn't too late to get to know each other, big guy.”

“Stop calling me ‘big guy’.” “Then tell me your name. Look, I’ll even start. My name is Y/N, nice to meet you.” She starts, holding out her hand as she expects a handshake from him. Because that's how proper formal introductions start! “Ghost.” He replies blankly, getting a raised eyebrow from you. “That's it?” She sulks. “Just an alias, that's enough.”

‘What a killjoy’ she thinks, why couldn't someone more interesting make her come to life! Like maybe a group of rebellious teens or anyone but like this ‘Ghost’ guy! “Well then ‘Ghost’, let's get to know each other!” She insists. “I won't be talking to you when I’m deployed, don't want the soldiers thinking I’m a madman.” She whines, how much did she sin during her lifetime to deserve such dull torture? Before she could even open her mouth to complain, he spoke up. “If you dislike haunting me then just leave.” “I can't.” She tells, and Simon has never seen you this quiet before.

“I bet I owe you some kind of explanation huh? Looks like you didn't research enough on this necromancing disturbing the dead shit.” He nodded, admitting his mistake. “Whoever awakes the undead is the only one who can put them to rest again, you have to perform another ritual for it. So if I don't stop following you, I could possibly lose you and permanently wander as a ghost forever. I don't want that, none of the undead does.” She explained, the words are hard to get out of her. While the masked man nodded in understanding, that's why she acted like she was glued to him like honey. He thought about it, it did seem pretty shitty. You can only do so much, going around as a ghost doesn't seem like the funnest thing in the world.

“I see. Just..stick by me or whatever.” There's something in him that doesn't wanna get rid of her just yet, maybe it's his conscience? Yeah, that was for sure it. It would feel like he was purposely putting someone back in their grave, the soil being used to bury them a little too familiar to other experiences. The woman blinks a few times, burning straight through his soul as she stares at him before nodding. Looks like he was in no rush to get rid of her, that's nice. She’ll stay by his side the whole time, whether he likes it or not.

[fuumiku]

Day 2 : Role Swap

Ok I have thoughts for this one bear with me. He’s a mage with a half-foot guild still but his activism is especially targeted towards half-foot mages specifically since they’re rare and so looked down upon (and the two are correlated).

Marcille scouts out places all Tomb Raiser style for lost treasures and knowledge, keeps maps and written info etc in her book. She’s still much of a scholar but more in an archeologist sense, she wants to discover the truth of dungeons and see if it could revolutionize the world. She’s a buildings and engineering nerd instead of magic nerd. She hypes herself up as a passionate cool rogue adventurer like in books✨ Chil thinks it’s a silly and unstable profession. All her um, grace and agility when doing headstands and dancing are coming through with this new role of hers.

Chil does need to borrow mana and so they hold hands a lot. I am so taking advantage of the mana transfer thing. "I’m out of mana, you’re an elf and you never use magic, give some to me! You have so much, don’t be selfish!!" -inparty fight breaks out as he chases after her and she runs away- I imagine that’s just kinda how he and half-foot mages roll? Dunmeshi-typical worldbuilding monologue that explains how "Most people don’t even use their mana, they don’t even learn magic. If you give me your mana I’ll be able to do more magic, win-win, no harm done." I imagine you have to be magic-savvy to be able to transfer mana to someone but it’s fine he can just steal it methinks 🌟 So he gets to be the one who’s very casual about physical touch. He does NOT want to be a healer it stresses him out but ah shit there Falin goes.

More AU details under cut

You’ve heard of onion knight now get ready for onion mage Y’know the saddest part of mage Chilchuck is that he wouldn’t use explosion spells

You know how Marcille uses her staff to grab people by the neck or head sometimes… Chilchuck would have a free choking stick he can use to make people listen to him. He can REACH THEIR NECKS. It doubles as a walking stick for his old man back… /j And a weapon, sort of. I think staff more than lance, but long weapons like that suit him I think. Holding the monster at bay with a 4 feet long stick like "Stay BACK!! Go for my party members shoo shoo!!!!"

From my observations, staffs for magic all have a ‘hole’ at one end, oh size, shape, material and form varying. For example both Marcille and Rin have a similar hoop, but Falin’s is a lantern which imo the metal frame of it and the glass form this hole I’m speaking of. Maybe it’s like, the staff condenses the magic inside the hole and helps channel it and give it form? What I’m saying here is I didn’t decide what it was made out of but I like to think it’s carved wood so it can be homemade but unique to him.

Marcille and Chil both fight in battles, but he stays where it’s safer and does long distance spells only. Marcile uses daggers probably… But yeah her role’s more being a scout rather than a fighter, while Chil’s role is being a magical fighter and his expertise on magical creatures and such.

I think he’d be self-taught, where it’s his own magic system… I think he likes theory more than vibes and working at the whims of creatures, so maybe elven with an half-foot script? He doesn’t seem like the type to get buddy-buddy with spirits much A bit like his cowl it’s like he always has a part of home with him a bit with his half-foot magic… He’d have sucked at the beginning, it’s pretty experimental magic, but he made it work and tbh he’s a Big Deal for it. Learning on the field ofc ofc he’s no honor student

I think the racial prejudices tension would be worse, because he’d be nervous of the whole ‘half-foots who get too curious about dark magic get taken away’, and I think as a half-elf who doesn’t do magic it might be uncomfortable for her to deal with how the half-foot is better at it than her and how her mana would have had better use with him instead of her? Idk brainstorming. I def think she’d habe more of a complex about being a half-elf… Still with existential dread and still Hopes to find a cure to death, but she goes about it through artefacts etc rather than magic. I’m unsure how her career would turn out that wqy exactly because job stability and academia are important to her, but yeah I think she went to school on an agricultural and history level and focused her research on that front? And then she could become that adventurer scholar who explores to pierce secrets of the world and ancient civilizations trope yeah I think that’s the angle.

Maybe his plans for the future after quitting being a dungeon diver would be teacher/mentor instead of shopkeeper 🤔 One one hand oh god have mercy on his blood pressure, on the other he likes contributing to his community and would want to encourage half-foot mages and pass down his knowledge and expertise I think. Empty nest syndrome where…- OHHH mage Meijack……. I was thinking becayse Meijack followed in his footsteps in canon but it could suit Puckpatti and Flertom too… Their dad would have shown them some magic tricks hehe. They can be a magical girl trio in my heart, Powerpuff Girls energy…

A rogue has gotta be able to make intricate af braids and updos with their fingers (ignore how in canon Chil is just barely decent at them nvm). I was thinking maybe one of Marcille’s lockpicks is Ambrosia-shaped… Or maybe it’s an hairpin. Maybe she keeps her lockpicks as pins in her hair but they’re easy to grab… Getting more gimmicky by the second but my heart yearns for it I cannot lie. I ended up doing something close to canon for Marcille’s outfits but at first I imagined she’d wear stuff more akin elven fashion, short dress with pants, light material, though also with a leather armor breastblate. She has long gloves like the ones that look fancy, maybe even up her upper arm rather than just forearm ooh… Also her little pouch, which actually contains stuff this time around (lockpicks). They still have matching pouches yay

In that last doodle Chilchuck weaved her a little familiar with twigs… So it is magical but it’s hers, and it’s a second stand-in for Ambrosia. Maybe a golem… It’s very silly and prob not real in the au but the thought of it is really cute. Someone on the discord said Fantastical Beasts Pickett which yesss lmao, it’s like a pokemon for "(lock)pick it!" I love arts and crafts Chilchuck so much. Sew clothes. Weave twigs. Woodcarve. Necromance a frankenstein. He can make himself a new wife (/J I AM SO /J)

— Also for Izutsumi: I think the reverse of a ninja is a bard. Take that as you will. Angry bard who grew up in a troupe……

[kirby-the-gorb]

we are about an hour into rare disease day in my timezone! (it's always the last day of february, whether that's the 28th or the 29th.) the true prevalence of mast cell disorders is unknown, as they are often misdiagnosed or ignored. and mast cell activation syndrome, the most prevalent kind of mast cell disorder, only had diagnostic criteria laid out for the first time in 2010. so whether or not it's truly rare is really up in the air!

(personally I suspect it is just aggressively underdiagnosed but I'm not a research scientist or diagnostician right now. and even if it is rare, it's gonna be a lot less so than it was 5 years ago as certain respiratory infections are known to trigger it into visibility. that's what happened to me when I got mono at the end of 2015, further compounded when I got covid in 2022.)

all chronically ill people face a lot of hurdles when it comes to seeking diagnosis, accommodation, and treatment (all of which can be severely complicated by any intersecting marginalities), but rare diseases present a special challenge.

for example, I have an immune disorder. my immune system does not like being alive, my mast cells are way too jumpy and throw a tantrum over every little thing. you'd think an immunologist would be the one to treat me, right?

I've had 6 immunology referrals rejected in the past 9 months alone. multiple major immunology clinics in my major city tied to a major research university outright refuse to see patients with "mcas" written anywhere in their chart.

after 8 years of being debilitatingly ill, and suspecting it was immune mediated for 6, and getting it confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt by the bone marrow biopsy last month, I will have my second ever appointment with an immunologist. another 2 1/2 months from now. the first immunologist lied to me about the reliability of the one available blood test, when I first came up with the hypothesis by myself 6 years ago, and forced me to abandon my (correct!!! now proven!!!) hypothesis for 3 entire years while we wandered around lost and got nowhere other than even more thorough process of elimination.

okay, well if my immune system is attacking me, maybe it's technically autoimmune? that's the rheumatologists instead of the immunologists, what do they have to say? dick all my dude, I don't have rheumatoid arthritis so they just shrug at me and go "idk, fibro? I don't know why you're here" and send me home with nothing. (I literally had a rheumatologist say to me, verbatim, "I don't know why you're here." buddy it's your job to read the chart and decide if I get seen or not, you tell me. at least he had a snazzy outfit.)

being chronically ill can be a terrible struggle no matter what, but a disease that is perceived as rare, accurate or not, adds a whole new layer of bullshit. (and of course there are much much rarer diseases out there, with even more hoops and dead ends and struggles and all-new layers of bullshit that even I don't have to deal with!)

anyway I'm having a shit time and using this awareness day as an excuse to productively bitch about it 👍

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[reiwanwan]

How peaky men fart ‼️

So….today we will be discussing the different ways that I personally think these peaky men fart, maybe I will make this a series like “Unhinged peaky blinder headcanons” And if you have your own unhinged headcanons that you want do feel free to ask! my request are very much open

Tommy 🤍

- most people are convinced this man doesn’t fart, but it’s a natural human function so of course even tommy shelby needs to let one out

- Dead serious expression and completely unfazed

- His farts have no sound and they dont even stink so no one even knows if he farted

- He also has pretty privilege and he knows that so he uses it to his full advantage

- Because of that he has the ability to fart loudly and no one would even bother to think it was him because pretty people dont fart

- In the scenario where if he let one out silently and it did stink he would probably just light a cigarette afterwards to cover up the smell

Arthur 🧡

- Loud and unapologetic

- Disrespectful.

- Absolutely no consideration for the people around him

- He would let it rip and laugh and say that it was the “sound of victory”

- He farts the loudest and is very proud of the volume of it

- He wont fart around ladies though

-Buuut if you were a guy, I’m sorry but you are going to be his victim

-He is kind enough though to let you know if he’s going to fart

John 🩵

- Now this one does NOT let you know when he is going to fart

- Always blames it on someone else

- Has the WETTEST farts and you’re always having to ask him to check his boxers because you are so sure he shit himself

- He does the classic “pull my finger” joke with his kids

- If you were laying down next to this man i’m sorry but you are getting dutch ovened and you will suffocate

- After he lets you out he apologises and says “must be the cabbages you made earlier”

Alfie 🤎

- Another loud farter here, second to arthur

- Also lets you know when he’s going to fart

- You guys could be walking together and he will stop you, “Hold on treacle…” and then proceed to rip ass.

- Will continue holding your hand as he farts

-If you seem embarrassed he will turn it into a whole monologue when he’s done and when you guys continue walking

- Gives long-winded explanations about how it is “A normal human bodily function”

- “you see love…holding it in wouldn’t be healthy because you see right…it’s a sign of a proper, working digestive system, its how god meant it to be”

Michael 💙

- Oh boy please don’t ever call him out he will get defensive and his ego will be CRUSHED

- Really feels like farting is emasculating and will insist on holding it in till he gets home to let it out

- Polly can always tell when he needs to fart for some reason and will tell her stubborn son that he is allowed to fart

- But in the case where he desperately needs to fart, he will excuse himself and go outside

- And boy does he let that one go wild because he’s pretty sure that fart cured all his stomach problems

- His farts doesn’t smell too idk why I just feel like he wouldn’t have stinky farts

Finn 💛

- Everyone pushes the blame onto him if they fart

- Especially arthur

-John would blame it on finn if he was sitting next to girl that he fancied. “Ughhh finn you nasty bastard��letting one out next to a lass?”

-Tommy would fart and then blame it on finn if someone smelt his own silent fart and everyone around will he quick to believe him

-Poor Finn

-If he farts he will be very embarrassed

-but understands its normal so he would try not to make a big deal out of it and man it out lol

-If people do start laughing at him though, he will join and laugh along just to save face even if it did actually hurt his feelings just a wee bit

That is all lovely human beings please do let me know what you guys think of this. The reason for writing this purely because I was super bored and my imagination goes wild and also because I thought that it would be completely hilarious lmao xx

[theology101]

Fabian and Adaine have me absolutely bewitched and its going to be everyone's problem

Im writing a fic for the two of them were they sorta do the awkward 'are we dating or just Good Friends who spend time together without other Friends' to 'fake date to fix her money problems' and then 'actually we were in love the entire time.' I'm not 100% on my order of events yet but I have a bunch of vignettes stuck in my head and its easier for my brain to expell them at an audience

Moggy the Doggy and the Hangman both go to the Spectral Dog park, Fabian and Adaine want to get Hangman comfortable in his hellhound form (although they respect that he prefers to be a bike)

For some reason whenever Adaine needs new clothes, she goes with Fabian? Something about the good vibes from the Jean Jacket means she thinks he's a lucky charm for clothes

While out in public Adaine has a panic attack, and Fabian swaddled her in the Battle Sheet. She initially thinks its patronizing before realizing - is this shit thread count seven billion?

After the Swaddle Incident, Fig and Kristen start VIOLENTLY shipping them, and that inspires the 'lets get engaged for tax purposes'

Fabian has an additional fund for his betrothed/spouse/SO, and KVX starts giving Adaine three thousand gold pieces a month

Jawbone, Gorthulax and Sandra Lynn are all pretty hype about this development - Sandra Lynn has her fucking eyes on him though. Adaine immediately feels guilty about lying

Hallariel flies home fucking immediately and forces Adaine to spend an entire Weekend with her. I'm talking Spa Day, Dress Fitting, Sword Dueling and a bunch of traditional elven activities

(and Adaine def doesn't cry because she's having the type of elven family experience with Hallariel that she wishes she had with Arianwen Abernant)

Turns out KVX has a similar system as the 'nemesis' system for spouses/signifgant others. Adaine would not be getting her three thousand gold a month unless she and Fabian genuinely did love each other

The reaction from that makes her vomit

The Bad Kids have to deal with Princess Nara being a BITCH. She's Fabian's cousin, wants her fucking sword back, thank you very much, and thinks that the Elven Oracle slumming it at High School and on adventures instead of leading a fucking nation like she's supposed to

Fabian and Adaine are backing each other up with so much passion and authority they kiss about it when they're done

And idk how we get here, but she's proposing herself with rings from the Jacket of Useful Things

I have more that are still half baked but if anyone else has any hit me dog. This shit is going to be 5k words+ a chapter when I'm done with her and I'm debating on 1-5 chapters rn

[kens-ramblings]

okay so for background i work in first responder land, not as a first responder but my job deals with them on a regular basis. so basically here is my opinion on what kinda of first responder each of the batfam would be with little to no explanation :D

Alfred- maybe retired EMS? i know he does medical stuff with the bats so it just makes sense to me

Bruce- he’s a cop. idk what else to say he’s just such a cop and you can take that however you’d like🤨😐

Dick- 911 operator. i think he canonically was one at some point(please correct me if im wrong tho i am very slowly getting through comics) and its also one of the ones that just makes sense to me. like he wants to help but he does not want to do it on the same way B does and has always been good with people. so i feel like he’d probably enjoy it

Jason- maybe this is controversial but i’d say firefighter. like yes he died due to smoke inhalation but i also feel like he’d want to work through that trauma(bc bats can’t just go to therapy like normal people nooooo) by helping others to yk,,, not die in fires?? also it’s just another one of the ones idk how else to explain it the vibes are just there yk

Tim- I think he’d work in emergency management somewhere. like yes they are not exactly first responders and his character is a front lines guy, but we’ve also seen that he is a PLANNER. emergency management’s whole job is planning for what to do when things go to shit. plus they still go on scene as needed so he wouldn’t have to deal with JUST being a guy in a chair

Babs- i originally wasn’t gonna do her because i don’t really know her character all that well. but,,,, as i was writing tim’s i was like “oh this is also probably babs a bit ecspecially after her accident. like she was probably some sort of first responder,,, maybe cop to follow in her dads footsteps?? but also maybe not? like i said not exactly one of the characters know best,,,, but anyways after no longer being able to help on the front lines she joins gothams emergency management agency because they also help coordinate when big things happen so it makes sense to me

steph- another one i’m not super sure i know her characterization all that well outside of fandom, but im giving it my best go. i feel like she went into EMS. she spent some time with leslie and in a lot of normal capes aus i’ve read it seems like she’s always a med student so it makes sense to me

Cass- i’m actually kinda stumped on her. like realistically she could do any of the jobs she wanted because yk she’s highly skilled in damn near everything. like idk i just can’t picture her as anything other than kick ass vigilante. but if i had to choose,,,, maybe 911 operator, she could help with other languages and dispatchers really run this shit from the shadows. so final answer dispatcher i guess? but i feel like it is kinda a waste of her fighting talents but yk it is what it is

duke- he is another one i’m not 1000% on characterization, i don’t think he’s been in any of the comics i’ve read other than wayne family adventures. but anyways, my gut instinct was cop, but like in the way that he’s trying to change the system from the inside out. but then actually the whole gang thing came to mind and duke is def an ACAB kinda guy. like couldn’t stand to wear the uniform probs, so im actually gonna go with fire fighter. i also can’t really explain this one it’s just what my heart says.

Dami- he’s another one i think is a cop, but he is because he wants to be like Bruce. he starts out doing basically whatever B says but he eventually finds his own way. honestly i feel like after a stint he quits and joins like an EMS service for animals(i actually do not know if that’s a thing, but it is now) bc i think he would genuinely enjoy that and still feel like he’s helping yk?

[thrashkink-coven]

someone asked if I live with my parents, in regards to how I have such a large altar, and how they might feel ab it. I was working on a long post ab it but then it vanished into the stratosphere so idk what that was ab or where it went.

But to answer the question, making an incredibly long story short, I do not live with my parents, I live with my partner and a couple roommates.

Tea time :) ☕️ Hot piping tea time besties!!! 🤩

My mom used to be somewhat accepting of my transition and identity. She helped me in the medical care system and even got me testosterone (although she always seemed a bit iffy). However after she met her current partner that all fell apart. He is extremely, and I mean EXTREMELY Christian and extremely controlling. This man burned my bfs hoodie because it had a sigil on it. He red faced SCREAMED (and I mean SCREAMED) in my face that I was going to hell for being trans, that I was disgusting and that he didn’t want me anywhere near his kids. After which, my ✨mother✨ blamed me for pushing his buttons too much (by being trans) and told me she would no longer support my transition. She told me that she would rather burry me in the ground in the event that I lost my life to suicide than deal with having a trans kid. I will never forget that.

That was during the first lockdown at the height of the pandemic, so I was trapped in that house and it was torture. When I say that man is extremely Christian and conservative, I mean it. He forced me and his kids to watch religious videos every Saturday, which were basically just dudes screaming at you that you’ll go to hell if you sin over stock footage of clouds. He would try to guilt trip me for not wanting to participate. (Not to mention he contributed very heavily to my eating disorder by trying to force us all to be vegan and taking away all of my safe foods, despite cooking steaks for himself every night. If I could use one word to describe that man it would be “Hypocrite”. I was constantly anxious and starving, holy shit I could write an entire book about how terrible living in that house with that man was and how betrayed I felt by my mom for putting me through that)

The last straw for my mom was when I expressed to my gender therapists that I really want and need top surgery. She acted like I was springing it on her out of nowhere despite us having conversations about it since I was 14. She told me that I would not be recovering from that surgery under her roof and that it would upset her partner too much. Soon she started making little comments about how disgusted she was in the changes testosterone was giving me, how my voice was getting deeper and how I was gaining muscle, and I became terrified that she would try to force me to detransition.

For me, the final straw was after me and my mom had an argument about money (she took it from my bank account without asking and got mad when I asked for it back) as punishment she decided that I would start having to pay rent for my room in the house. I told her that I would not be paying to live somewhere where I cannot feel safe being myself or bringing my partner around. She told me to either get over it or pay up.

As soon as I turned 18 I started looking into programs in my school that help young queer people who are facing potential homelessness find housing. My mother never explicitly kicked me out (she’ll still say that to this day) but she made it impossible for me to stay. I do believe that her partner was actively trying to systematically get me and my older brother out of the house so he could further isolate my mom. He was the one that told my mom that I was manipulating her into “letting me be trans” by pretending to be suicidal. Yeah. Seriously. And to be honest, it’s fucked up and sad but I also see my mom as a victim due to some other things I won’t mention here (when I say controlling I mean CONTROLLING) But the abuse she went through does not justify her role as my abuser. As much empathy and understanding I have as to why she acted the way she did, I still don’t accept that behaviour. Constantly hearing about how you’re an abomination and how God will surely destroy you starts to take a toll after a while, especially when you’re not allowed to leave the house.

Through my efforts I landed a job but I still didn’t have enough money for even the smallest bachelor pads.

One night after having an extreme meltdown I just… ran away. I went to my bfs house because I didn’t know where else to go, but I was fully prepared to walk to a homeless shelter. I am so incredibly lucky that he and his mother are amazing and understanding people because they embraced me with open arms. They gave me a place to stay and never pressed me about money. I have never gone back to my mother’s house since. If it wasn’t for them I would not be alive right now. They genuinely saved my life and I am forever grateful to them for that.

After my bf and I finally got our own place after living with his parents for nearly 2 years , my mom decided that time passed is equivalent to an apology, and wanted to rekindle our relationship. However, after she tried to visit my place and was met by my roommates who are also all trans, things didn’t go her way. She kept asking for my dead name and misgendering me. My roommates stood up for me and told her that she should stop misgendering me and have some respect, that they didn’t know anyone by that name, and that it’s not cool for her to still be calling me that.

My mom gave me a very angry phone call, telling me that my friends are disrespectful and that they should know that she’s the only person allowed to disrespect me because she gave birth to me. Unfortunately for her that is not the case.

My response to that was this:

and her response was this:

So it was what it was. She tried to withhold my phone plan from me as punishment because it was the only thing left that I relied on her for anymore. I said fuck it, got a new phone plan and continued on with my life.

I’ve tried to have conversations with her to reach an understanding hundreds of times in the past, countless letters and one sided conversations, she was never interested. It is what it is. We haven’t really spoken since then and I’m content with that. Believe me, I have said all I could possibly say.

In terms of my paganism, my whole family subscribed to a certain genre of black conservative Christianity that sees all indigenous forms of spirituality as evil. I don’t know how much they know about my craft but I know they hate it, and that’s fine. My mom hates my dark art and wanted me to use my ✨talents✨ to make Christian art. The only person in my family who even somewhat understands me is my older brother and we have a good relationship. I am no longer concerned with trying to please people who don’t see me as a person. Those who are real will stick around, and those who won’t, wont.

I know that they probably think I’m lost and broken and using demons to fill the void, and they can think that. One thing I want to make incredibly clear is that I do not harbour resentment towards the Christian God, Christianity or Jesus Christ for the terrible actions of his followers. I came to peace with and forgave him long ago. I love him. My being a Luciferian is not revenge against my mom or God. That God has always been there for me and supported me for who I am through all of this, and he still does.

Since I was a child I’ve always been told that I don’t know who I am, that I can’t think or speak for myself, and since I was a child I have always remained 10 toes down on who I am. They won’t believe that I’m really trans until the day I die, they won’t believe that I lived a beautiful and fulfilling life as a devotee of Lucifer because they cannot fathom that I know and love myself. Oh well, they say success is the best revenge.

I love my family and I always will, but for their comfort and my safety I keep my distance from them. I’m pretty damn sure they wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me anyways with all their paranoia about the devil.

Funnily enough Lucifer has been excellent bigot repellent for me. He’s always protecting me from people who would hate me anyways. If my paganism is such an abomination that it prevents my past abusers from hurting me more, then that’s a bonus in my eyes. Stay the fuck away from me if it bothers you so much, we don’t have enough in common to have a productive conversation anyways. If ever my mother came to me honestly and sought true redemption, I would certainly forgive her, I don’t enjoy being estranged. But that would take effort and care on her part, and that simply does not seem to be her biggest priority right now, it never was and I never was. It izz what it izz 🤷‍♂️

So yeah, tldr, I definitely don’t live with my parents lol.

[inkstainedhandswithrings]

OKAY LAST SILLY THOUGHT OF THE DAY!!

Primus (Nevaeh’s eldest brother, who is not at all like her, pure politician, we don’t trust him with a table knife) is visiting the Venator (idk why)

And Nevaeh has a habit of playing Bezos I on full volume when he enters the room because she says the song matches his “vibe” (Millenial bro doesn’t know what gen z sis is talking about) and after a good three years of this shit HE IS PISSED (imagine being Rick Rolled every time you just,,, exists in a space)

So Nevaeh is hanging out in the hangar with Cody an Rex, going over the supply manifest when Primus walks in with his two guards, so Nevaeh quickly hits a control on her gauntlet and suddenly

“CEO ENTREPRENEUR, BORN IN 1964, JEFFRY, JEFFRY BEZOS—“

And then it cuts off again and obviously Rex and Cody are like “what the hell??” and Vae gives them a quick hand signal to stand down.

Primus spots her from across the hangar and stomps over, saying this is a professional setting and it’S NOT FUNNY NEVAEH!! and she’s all, my guy, this isn’t even my ship?? how would I?? talk to the the tech guys maybe??

and he’s like ya, fair enough. So she introduces the guys and as soon as Nevaeh says “my older brother,” Cody and Rex have an aha-moment because of course, yeah. of course she is that.

Primus makes to leave and the second he turns his back,

“COME ON JEFFRY YOU CAN DO IT, PAVE THE WAY, PUT YOUR BACK INTO IT!”

“damn, that’s so weird? hey Jesse can you just go take a look at the sound system?”

“but sir, I don’t even know how to—“

and then Primus catches Nevaeh mouthing “exactly” and spends the next twenty minutes chasing her through the hangar while she does backflips onto gunships and laughs like a manic (clones are having a GREAT time with her, morale has never been higher)

So later in the day, Nevaeh is in the war room with Obi-Wan, Anakin, Ahsoka, Rex, Cody, Fives, Echo and Jesse and she’s giving the mission debrief when suddenly

“I’M MISS SUGAR PINK, LIQUOR, LIQUOR LIPS, HIT ME WITH YOUR SWEET LOVE STEAL ME WITH A KISS”

except Primus didn’t spent all day re-wiring a government owned Venator’s sound system with Anakin, and he can’t be fucked to do so, so he’s just standing in the middle of the room with tired eyes and a boom box.

but Nevaeh takes it like a champ and goes “no, no, I can deal them, but I can also take them” AND TURNS THE MUSIC UP LOUDER

“I’M GONNA BE YOUR BUBBLEGUM BITCH—”

“It’s no fun if you go along with it!!”

“I know! Now, are we done here?”

So Primus grumbles but leaves them to it and while the clones are all chuckling the Jedi have absolutely NO CLUE (save for Anakin) wtf just happened.

“Okay, so briefing.”

“No, no, not briefing,” Ahsoka interrupts and points to the door, “what the hell was that?”

“Oh, that was just my brother.”

@saturn-sends-hugs @phantom-of-the-501st @ihaventpiickedausername