#if there ever was a new baby in the family it would really cement to kirby just how fucked up their childhood was

[darth-sonny]

Can you just imagine if someone else in the family has a kid and Kirby can see how different they're treated. Like loving a new and wanted kid would be so easy for the family and that's something Kirby can't really have.

There was a new addition to the family: a baby, a little girl, named Lita. She’s Uncle Raph’s kid, one he had with a nice lady called Mona Lisa or something. Both of them are standing proudly as everyone holds the baby. She’s pretty and pale and has soft pink markings all over her body.

Kirby doesn’t meet her. They don’t want to meet her.

They watch, from the moderate safety of a doorway, as everyone cooed and fawned over the new addition. They watched as the little baby girl was given kisses, rocked back and forth, cuddled, and nuzzled closely. Everyone was smiling at the baby, loving her.

It’s not fair.

Nothing about this is fair.

None of them are awkward around the baby, no one was stilted, none of them looked at the addition with looks that clearly showed how uncomfortable they were with her.

Even Uncle Donnie was smiling at her – no cold looks, no barely hidden disdain, no nothing.

None of that.

They hate this.

They wished that the baby didn’t exist.

They just want that small illusion back, back when they could pretend that things were slowly getting better.

But as everyone keeps fawning over and passing the addition around, it becomes increasingly clear that the illusion is broken. Irreparably so.

They sniff, feeling their eyes sting.

Kirby leaves before the baby is handed over to Dad.

They’re sitting on their bed, blanket over them, holding two small dolls and playing with them. Or pretending to. They move the dolls around, shake them as if they’re talking, but their mind is somewhere else.

They decide to hide out in their room.

They think about the new addition, and how everyone acts around her.

They move one of the dolls, a small pink and white rabbit, to lay down in front of the other doll. The other doll was a red horse. Kirby raises the other doll and brings it down on the rabbit. Once, twice, three times. Over and over and over again until the pink and white doll is a mess of plastic bits and scattered paint flecks.

The new addition is a newborn, right? Newborns are weak. Right?

It should be easy.

Just go up, grab her, and-!

Kirby shakes their head.

They pick up the broken doll and throw it away.

They don’t feel horrible about what they did. They never do after they have those moments. That’s what makes them feel horrible.

They know why they’re like this, and it makes sense to them why their family treated them like they do. And, in some cases, continue to treat them like that.

But it’s still not fair.

They didn’t do anything.

And yet…

How come they weren’t treated like that? With hugs, cuddles, kisses, and cooing?

Why?

They look at the red doll next to them.

It was the same color red as Uncle Raph’s bandana.

It only takes a second.

Another broken doll is thrown in the trash.

It’s not fair.

They curl up in their bed, using their blanket to hide themself, biting back any whimpers and pathetic sounding chirps that try to escape. Their eyes sting like no other, but Kirby won't cry. They refuse to cry. They won't add more fuel to that fire. They won't.

Leo finds them later, curled up into a ball and crying.

He doesn't say anything. He picks them up and holds them close, rocking back and forth.

He ignores the clicking hiss, or the multiple eyes that glare down at him from the corners of the room. He just holds his kid and mutters that he understands, and that it really isn't fair.

He holds them tighter as Kirby continues to cry.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐭 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: starting a family was yours and charles’s dream, and welcoming little baby matteo hervé leclerc was the absolute best day of your lives, and the start of a new future as a family of 3

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of pregnancy, hospitals and childbirth & lots n lots of fluff

𝐚/𝐧: well she’s here the first chapter of Little Karter! i’m so excited to write this little series and i really am excited to share the ideas i have with it! i hope you all enjoy it<;3

𝐰𝐜: 1.5k+

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

For as long as you could remember and as long as you had been with Charles, there was never a doubt in either of your minds when it came to having a family. You’d always  wanted kids and so had Charles, so when the day had come that you found out you were expecting, it was a day you would forever remember. Nothing about trying for a baby comes easy, it doesn’t help that still to this day most books and movies fail to highlight that. It took you and Charles almost three years to conceive your now 4-year-old son Matteo, it was a lot of tears, pain and trial and error until that very morning you took the test. 

▸

Time moved slow as you stood in front of Charles, the three tests you had taken in his hands, tears lining your eyes.

“Ne me mens pas..bébé, s’il te plait”

Charles was on the verge of losing it, his eyes glossing over as he start at you with such a yearning and adoration, you had never seen anything like it 

“I promise my love…”

“Holy shit!”

He was quick to pull you into his chest, his arms holding you tight to him, tears hitting your neck as you held onto one another, A moment that would forever cement itself into memory, there was nothing that could top the reaction and love you felt and saw that day. 

“We did it Char”

Pulling back he took your face in his hands, bringing you in for a kiss, a tearful smile on his face when he pulled away 

“We did it baby”

▸

Charles had been nothing short of amazing throughout your pregnancy, from doctors appointments, to late night cravings and sitting at your side as you experienced the worst morning sickness throughout the first trimester. If you needed him he was there, he made that extremely clear to you as well as Ferrari. Letting them know if you needed him he would be there, racing was his passion, but you were his heart, and he would drop anything for you, all you ever needed to do was ask. 

He was adamant about this from day one. 

You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips as you watched him pick out baby boy’s first outfit, you had gotten to the hospital almost five hours ago, your water breaking, thankfully enough on the summer break so Charles was already at home with you. He was so excited to become a father, you could not wait to see him flourish into his new role.

“Char he won’t know what he’s wearing…”

He turned to smile at you. 

“I know baby but-I just want it to be perfect for him, I want everything to be perfect for you too”

“It already is my love, you’ve done so much for me the past nine months, you’ve taken such great care of me...”

A pause fell over the room, Charles placing a little white onesie with red cars on it down onto the change table across from your bed, moving to sit next to you, his hands grabbing yours gently. 

“I love you, I would do anything for you, and I’ll keep taking care of you, both of you.”

Leaning down he kissed you, rubbing your cheek ever so softly when he notices a stray tear that had begun to roll down your skin. No further words needed to be exchanged, Charles could see it in your eyes just how much you loved and adored him, and right now that was more than enough for him.

Thankfully you managed to get some more rest not long after, Charles keeping his eye on you diligently, he was too excited and anxious to rest, despite his mother being adamant that he gets his sleep now. As soon as a baby comes along it becomes much harder to get your beauty sleep, but you’d never hear a parent complain, especially not Charles, this was what he’d been dreaming for, and he was sure if his father was still around he would be so proud of him. 

It wasn’t until seven pm, that you were dilatated to ten centimetres and could start pushing, it was a pain no one could prepare you for, and a pain that was way worse than you had ever imagined 

“Tout va bein, ma belle…tu es si forte”

“Ça fait mal Char…cant-“

Charles shook his head, moving to be closer as he swiped a cool cloth across your forehead

“I know, I know it does but he’s almost here…just a bit longer baby, I know you can do it”

He looked at you with fierce determination, he could see the exhaustion behind your eyes but you were so close to holding your little boy and it was with the next hard push and agony filled scream that his cries echoed through the room. Charles quick to kiss yours cheeks as he rested his forehead on yours, tears in both of your eyes 

“I’m so proud of you baby, you did it…he’s here”

The doctor was quick to place the crying baby onto your chest as you sniffled, your hands moving to hold onto him, he needed to be cleaned up still but this allowed you and Charles to connect with him right away

“Bonjour mon petit, tu es si parfait, papa t’aime déjà beaucoup” he said quietly, brining a hand up to wipe his eyes

“He’s so perfect Char…”

The nurses then came over and took him gently, allowing Charles to cut his umbilical chord before taking him over to weigh him and check him out, allowing Charles to come back to your side, a look in his eyes that was only reserved for you and your perfect baby boy 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you”

“Oh my love, you don’t need to thank me, I love you so much you never need to thank me for this”

He shook his head

“I do because-because you made me a father… it is all I have ever wanted”

Reaching your hand out to him he took it, kissing the back of it before sitting next to you, allowing you to then lean your head into him, waiting patiently for the nurses to bring your baby back. Of course it didn’t take them very long, wrapping him in a warm blanket and gently placing him into your arms, your eyes taking all of him in.

He was a tiny little baby, but in every way absolutely perfect, he had Charles’s nose and his hair, he was the spitting image of his father, a twin if you must

“Hi my angel…”

Charles watched you interact with your son, smiling as you traced his little cheek with your pinky finger

“You are your daddy’s twin aren’t you? Mhm..”

You couldn’t help but place a series of gentle kisses to his face, just enjoying holding him in your arms, watching as he had begun to move a little

“Char you ready to hold him..?”

A slight look of hesitation flashed across your husbands eyes, he’d been waiting nine months for this moment, so why was he so worried

“My love, you’ll be okay, I promise…you don’t do anything wrong”

“Yeah-um okay yes”

He was meticulously careful and slow in his movements as he lifted the baby from your chest, moving to sit down in the rocking chair next to the bed, he never imagined in a million years he would be holding his little boy in his arms. It was no surprise to you to see his emotions ramp up again as he placed a kiss to his forehead

“Tu es mon plus précieux trésor mon bébé”

“Il est tout à nous mon amour”

Sniffling Charles nodded, the baby sleeping soundly nice and tucked into his arm. You figured he would wake up eventually to eat but for now there was no greater sight than seeing your husband and baby boy cuddled up with one another.

“Welcome to the world little Matteo Hervé Leclerc”

rough english translations:

Ne me mens pas..bébé, s’il te plait - don’t lie to me baby, please

Tout va bein, ma belle…tu es si forte - everything is fine sweetheart (or my beautiful) you are so strong

Ça fait mal - it hurts

Bonjour mon petit, tu es si parfait, papa t’aime déjà beaucoup - hello little one, you are so perfect, daddy loves you so much already

Tu es mon plus précieux trésor mon bébé - you are my most precious gift (treasure) baby

Il est tout à nous mon amour - he is all ours my love

[midwesternvibes]

Time for more Seperated Leo Human AU! (I really need a name good lord-)

As promised, we now get to look into Leon's lore! He's a funky little guy, and shockingly well adjusted!

Lore drop under the cut!

His full name is Leonardo Tomás Esposito, and he is quite proud of it! He picked it out himself when he was about 10 years old, and he's happy to say that he still loves it to this day! (Fun fact: all of the names have double meanings to them hehe)

But anyways, his Mamà is in fact, NOT Big Mama (but it was a solid guess!), her name is actually Mia Esposito! (+10 Fandom points to anyone who can guess her full first name) She is a full time nurse and used to travel around the several NYC hospitals as an on-call nurse, but once Leon was born she stuck her roots down to one and has been there ever since!

She's actually an incredibly interesting character (with her very own arc!) with a lot of depth and meaning. She grew up with her Puerto Rican mother and Italian father, but after a series of misfortunes and despair, she ended up immigrating to NYC to start a new life for herself. About 10 years later she began raising a baby all on her own as a single immigrant mother in New York City (Sound familiar?). Whenever Leon asks about his father she tells him that she doesn't remember his Papá, only that he had the same almond-shaped brown eyes as her baby boy....

But ultimately she doesn't remember him hahaha maybe Leon should stop asking questions and get back to studying!

(Leon knows that she's hiding something, but ultimately he doesn't care about his father that much, he just assumes that he did something to hurt his Mamá and wants nothing to do with the man at all)

Leon and his Mamá are very close, they're very similar to Percy and Sally Jackson from the PJO series, and they would definitely fight God for each other.

Leon was raised very much with the mentality of "It takes a village" and has many aunts and uncles and relatives in the hospital staff that he considers family. Mia couldn't really afford childcare as Leon grew up, as it often came down to food or rent for the month. The hospital staff saw this and absolutely adored little baby Esposito, so they were more than happy to raise him alongside their own children. Mia owes her life to this staff and considers them her family through and through.

As he grew up, Leon saw all his favorite people as nurses and doctors and considered each and every one of them heros. He decided very early on that he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up, and after a terrible injury when he was 14 it cemented the fact that he wanted to be a pediatric surgeon, to help kids just like him.

But the issue is, Leon and Mia definitely do not have enough to cover medical school for Leon on a single nurse's income, even with all the jobs that Mia and Leon have taken over the years. That's why Leon NEEDS the athletic and valedictorian scholarship, without it he won't be able to achieve his dream. The only thing standing in his way is.....

THE HAMATOS

(Except Michael, he's a gift)

Leon is willing to do ANYTHING to get those scholarships, but his Mamá always reminds him that the Hamatos might need it just as badly as he does, and that's about all that's keeping him from REALLY doing anything to hurt/sabotage them. His Mamá has instilled a really strict moral code into his psyche and he won't actually do anything to them, he just....really wants to give his Mamá a better life, one she deserves.

Although, he is kinda curious as to why the Hamato brothers have the same eyes as him......

First // Previous // Next

Whew! That was pretty much just a really intense ramble, sorry there was no actual structure to that, I just really wanted to talk about my Leon lore! Props to anyone who figures out the significance of all the names, and to clear up any confusion, Mia is Half Puerto Rican, half Italian, and Leon is 1/4 Puerto Rican, 1/4 Italian, and 1/2 Japanese (but shhh he doesn't know that yet) and obviously he's got that amazing vitiligo (shout out to anyone and everyone with vitiligo, y'all are amazing and beautiful)

Thanks for reading my lore dump, see ya next time for..... huh idk yet, vote ig

See ya next time!

[fenricken]

You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 1/7

Ao3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

next

Summary:

Danny has been getting the hang of this whole “Ancient of Doors”, “Apprentice to Clockwork”, “Dad to the Chaos Gremlin Dani” thing, and he’s really starting to find his flow! Sure, he sometimes misses the life that could’ve been, but overall everything has been great! Sure doesn’t need anything throwing a tangle in things.

Bruce is suffering. He doesn’t know who he is, where he is, or what the hell is going on. All he’s running on is instinct and strange forces propelling him towards some end he’s not entirely certain of.

Basically, Danny tries to help Batman over the course of events covered in Batman:Return of Bruce Wayne

Chapter One:

“Clockwork? Are you here? I got your message.” Danny floated up the tower, peeking behind cogs and pendulums, hoping to find a glimpse of his teacher’s signature purple cloak.

It had been a long time since certain… events had led Danny to become a far more permanent resident of the Infinite Realms. Of course, he wasn’t alone, as much of Amity had also followed him here to carve out a new life all together, his friends and family included.

Danny had since reached maturity and been recognized as Ancient of Doors for his actions. When faced with his evil future self, he strove to find another path where he didn’t become that future self. When Dani was revealed to be with the enemy, he chose to love her still, rather than hate her as many would. When he was faced with a reality where he was famous, and accepted by his parents, he chose to undo all of that for the peace and safety of his friends and family. While he now knew his parent’s acceptance would always come, he still had to make the choice then to put his trust in them and reveal himself so his friends could be saved when the GIW came to destroy Amity Park. And so, for his commitment to forging new paths, always finding another choice, and braving the unknown he was named Ancient of Doors. 

Sam had also found her own mentor in Undergrowth, working hard as his apprentice to aid him in his duties as Ancient of Wild Growth. Tucker and Technus had quickly formed a rivalry, both competing to see who would reign supreme as the Infinite Realm’s ultimate tech master. Jazz had found her purpose in the Department of Lost Souls, as an advisor to those who weren’t certain about their afterlife, and what they wanted to do with it. After Jack and Maddie’s change of heart with regards to ghosts, it was not long before they found new purpose in investigating and researching the many mysteries of the Infinite Realms and beyond.

While he and his friends had reached their own maturity, Dani had remained a child. Something about “It’s easier to cause chaos this way” and “No one ever suspects the baby”. Danny’s fondness for his clone only grew until he saw her less as a cousin and more as a daughter. Ultimately, it was only a surprise for Danny and Dani when the ghost-bond snapped in place, formally cementing her as his daughter, to both of their suffering.

Currently, she was out in one of the universes, chasing after some hybrid spider-pig, Danny thinks. Unless she got distracted and went to hang out with Klarion again, in an effort to “maximize joint chaos”. Tucker and Sam were both busy with their respective duties, Jazz was at work, and last he checked Mom and Dad were elbows deep in a mech suit they were hoping to get working off an Infinite Realms Corn-based fuel Sam had created. Danny had been feeling quite bored before he got the summons from Clockwork, and had jumped on it right away, hence his surprise at not being able to find his Mentor anywhere.

Danny had finally reached the top of the tower. He could see a table set up with a small tea service, but still no Clockwork. Figuring there’s nothing else to do, Danny pours himself a cup of tea, and settles in to wait.

—

Who is he? What is this place? His hand rests against a cool, smooth surface that appears so at odds with the rest of his surroundings-rocky ground, a red sky, and the water lapping against the cliff-side. There is nothing, and no one else that he sees, except – a cave. He stumbles in, visions of symbols surfacing in his brain- two “W”s, an “S”, a bat. He carves these into the rock-face desperate to have a visual trigger that would help him remember anything, but nothing comes.

A rock clatters against the floor of the cave, followed by someone’s voice. He approaches, steadily, entering into the light. Four men stand before him, weapons raised. They say something else, but he can’t understand.

“Where am I? What is this place?”

They do not answer him, but pull back their weapons. They introduce themselves, and speak some more. Names, he realizes- Man, Boy, Giant, Surly, Joker. This last one gives him pause, tickles something in his brain that upsets him, but soon his eyes lay on the structure from before, and he stumbles back to it, certain it must contain some clue.

The men he walks past continue to converse amongst themselves, but he has only one destination in mind. He digs through, looking for anything, but comes up only with a large swath of fabric. That same “S”, that calls to him but gives no answers.

The men set up camp, cooking as they go. They invite him to join, and he does, his hunger for food now outweighing his hunger for knowledge.

—

“Danny, I’m glad you came as soon as you could.” 

Danny’s teacup clatters as he jolts in surprise. He turns to face Clockwork, “I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself. What did you need my help with?”

Clockwork’s face turns a bit grim. “There is… something twisted in the time stream in one of the Justice League universes. While I can tell it is meant to happen, I am still uncertain about what is actually happening, and fear that I am unable to see with any certainty the outcome. I need you to venture to when this is to investigate on my behalf.”

Danny nods, his concern growing. “Of course. Is there anything in particular I should be prepared for?”

Danny swears he sees the corner of Clockwork’s mouth twitch up into his signature sly grin, before his face is quickly schooled and he says “No, just observe for now. Your destination is through here.”

Danny watches as the cog begins to glow before he ventures forward.

Immediately he is met with the sight of violence. It seems one group of cavemen has taken to attacking another during their dinner. Danny watches, cautious against intervening, trying to figure out who he is meant to watch for. He sees one man, dressed in black bottoms, escape the field of battle with a young boy and hide in the bushes. The battle quickly turns against the four who had been eating dinner, and Danny looks at the leader of those attacking, surprised that the leader’s face is familiar to him…though he can’t quite place who.

The man from before rejoins the fray, quickly beating many off before ultimately being subdued himself. The leader of the attacking cavemen crows in victory, before the army collects the man they’ve now taken prisoner and any other spoils, and returns to their home base.

Danny follows, trying hard not to focus on the bloodshed beneath. He may have lived a long time, but the kind of person willing to commit such violence is not someone he goes out of his way to find. He watches as the chief holds the man they took captive above his head.

“Conquering Chief Savage brings gifts from the forbidden land!”

“Shit,” Danny thinks, “I can’t believe I’m witnessing Vandal Savage’s villain origin story. Or is he already a villain at this point?”

Danny continues watching as they tie up the captive, who they’ve been calling ‘Man-God’ underneath a giant bat pelt. He takes a closer look, before reeling back in shock.

“I thought his pants were weird, but those are pretty 21st century” he thinks, before glancing around at hearing a shuffle. He sees a shadow lurking beyond the camp, crouched down. Danny approaches, recognizing the boy that had been rescued from the fight. He wears what looks like a yellow utility belt, and has painted a bat-shaped mask over his eyes.

“Wait… bats, a yellow utility belt…” Danny glances again to the Man-God strapped to the ground. 

“What is Batman doing here..?” Danny pauses, thinking. He should only be here as an observer, but it has never felt right to just stand on the sidelines when he can make the choice to do something to help. Maybe he doesn’t have to do too much. He floats over to where the Boy is crouched, clearly wanting to help but paralyzed with fear and indecision.

“Go to him. Help him as he has helped you. There has been enough bloodshed this day, will you wait around to see more?” Danny whispers to him, watching the boy’s eyes harden as he comes to a decision.

The boy is quick to act now that he’s made a decision. He approaches Batman, and frees him from his bonds. Danny watches as they collect themselves. Batman dons his utility pelt, and the bat pelt that had been hung over him. By the time they’ve finished their preparations, the sun has risen and the men who captured Batman are rising.

“Should I cause a distraction?” Danny wonders, but before he can do anything, Batman and the boy spring into action, taking out fighter after fighter, until Batman is left facing Vandal Savage.

They charge towards each other, but Danny’s attention is caught by a shadow that begins to pass over the battlefield. He looks up, noting an eclipse is starting. He can feel the energy changing, knows that something is going to happen when the sun has been completely blotted out.

But Clockwork has instructed him only to observe, so observe he will. He turns back to the battlefield, noting that Batman and the boy have managed to push back Vandal Savage, but are still being chased off by the remaining caveman. They drop over a waterfall, but when Danny follows, he only sees the boy surface.

The sky is dark now, as the sun has been completely covered, and there is energy concentrated underneath the water. Danny focuses, in the way Clockwork has taught him, to figure out what lies beneath and where Batman has gone.

“A strong amount of time-manipulation energy…No Batman, not in this time anymore.” Danny looks around to see the boy has realized Batman will not follow, and has left to find shelter. 

“Did he make another jump through time? But how? I didn’t see that he had anything on him capable of such a jump?” Danny thinks. He’s considering if he can piggy back off the residual energy to jump to when Batman is, but a portal opens behind him and Clockwork steps out.

“Danny, I think it would be best if we return now.” he says, gesturing for Danny to follow.

—

Back at his mentor’s lair, Danny explains the situation to Clockwork. Clockwork inclined his head in thought, only speaking after some time, “I can’t say for certain whether or not Batman was meant to be in that time period. However, there is something suspicious about the way he’s been traveling through time. Did you notice anything off with the time manipulation energy, Danny?” 

“I can’t say for certain,” Danny starts, “Though I did notice there was a build-up to the event, in line with an eclipse. Then again, I’m not familiar enough with the way dimensional energy manipulation feels in the universes with the Justice League to say for certain.”

Clockwork hums, before turning to rifle through a cupboard that popped up behind him. He pulled out a glowing orange orb. “Here, it’s a record of the time-manipulation energy gathered from one of the Flash’s misadventures. Can you compare and feel any difference?”

Danny closes his eyes before focusing again. “I can feel there are some significant similarities, but it feels like both have an added component that is different from each other? I don’t know if that makes any sense.”

“The energy reading from the sphere I handed you will likely contain energy both from the time-manipulation and the Speedforce the Flashes use to travel between time. If we assume the time-manipulation energy is the constant in both samples, then…”

“There’s some other energy added into the mix that is propelling Batman forward through time?” Danny finishes.

“That is likely the case. Until we know what it is, it would be best to exercise caution. We don’t know how it interacts with the time-manipulation energy, so we can’t predict how it might affect you Daniel.” Clockwork pauses in thought once more, “I’ll spend some time figuring out where Batman made his next jump. In the meantime, take a rest and prepare yourself.”

“I’m not totally familiar with the universes containing the Justice League. I’ll spend some time researching for now… and maybe I’ll ask Dani what she knows when she returns.”

Clockwork smiles slightly, before nodding. “A fine course of action, it might be best to gather all the information we can before proceeding.”

A/N:

At the time of plotting this, I haven’t read A Glitch in Time. I know that there are some time periods in common that Danny and Bruce travel to, so I want to address that at this moment I’m not planning to reference A Glitch in Time.

As for actual writing, I feel a bit stuck on how much of Batman: The Return of Bruce Wayne to actually reference, as I’m aware that most people in the dp x dc fandom are more familiar with Danny Phantom, and from other references I’ve seen to Batman’s travels through time it might not be a story many are familiar with. That being said, I don’t want to just directly repeat details from the comics. I guess if you feel I didn’t provide enough background from the comic series to understand what’s going on, or that I should maybe try referencing less, please let me know so I can make corrections.

On that note, I do recommend reading Batman:The Return of Bruce Wayne if you get the chance. There are so many interesting layers it adds to the mythos and history of Batman and the Wayne family, and it’s really a great read. It helps that you don’t really need too much knowledge of what comes before– except maybe that Batman had crafted a god-killing bullet he shot Darkseid with, before Darkseid retaliated and “killed” Batman. Even this is alluded to in the story in enough detail that you can understand what’s going on, though.

[that-one-anxious-mango]

lady in my life.

Summary: It’s official…your fave couple is are getting hitched’.

Contents: FLUFF TO DEATH. Clueless reader. Nervous Austin. Happy friends and family. Angst if you squint. Allusions to religion. 

Pairing: Austin Butler x Black Reader

Warnings: I am not responsible for any stray tears or sobbing!

A/N: Hello beautiful humans! It’s me. First, I’m so sorry this took so long! I know I said last weekend but I wanted to make this perfect and rewrote it over and over until I finally stopped the madness. So two, I ask that everyone please be kind! I did my best and I know it’s not the greatest, but honey I put my soul in this lol. As always thanks for reading and sticking with me.

P.S Everyone feel free to comment and send more prompts, asks, and noodles! Much love! *hugs*

---

" You're ridiculous." You grumbled out to the blonde haired man next to in the driver's seat who was laughing at your passionate outrage.

" Am not. " He shot back, " You're just too proud to admit that you might be wrong is all." He countered laughing at the scrunch in your eyebrows that you made as you glowered at him.

" Are too! I mean how could you say that! It's so..so s-o just..wrong! You're wrong, Butler." You concluded folding your arms across you chest in confidence.

" Nope I'm right. You can't beat the original, babe. It's a classic and that's my opinion. Deal with it." Austin cemented.

" Austin. Babe." You turned your head deadpanning him, " I can confidently say that me and about ninety-eight percent of the world will agree that Shrek 2 is absolutely better than Shrek 1. The end. So I don't care what you or any of the other pointy eared people of the world have to say about it because that's not a opinion, it's a fact. " You shrugged.

Smiling at how cute he thought you looked trying to be all serious Austin laughed, " Baby, is this what your going to do if we ever get married. Make fun of me to win a argument and look cute while doing it." He playfully squeezed your thigh with the hand resting on it.

You could feel your cheeks heat at the mention of the two of you married. It was something that you often pondered and had had some musings and conversations with Austin about. You already could see yourself being married but you wouldn’t lie. The thought seemed scary. 

Would you really be enough for him forever?

All of a sudden feeling shy you turned your head toward the window to try and hide the gooey smile on your face that complimented the butterflies fluttering in your stomach that had made a permanent home there since you'd met your man almost two years ago.

Responding you say trying to sound light hearted, " Absolutely. Even though you may be handsome, smart, talented, kind, and equipped with certain mouth skills. I have to keep you from getting a big head one way or another. Besides this one wasn't much of a argument because like I said the clear answer is two. And even though you're wrong, you're still cute."

Austin couldn't help that he kept chuckling at you, " Whatever you say goes then I guess. Just as long as we can both agree that Lilo and Stitch is one of the best movies ever, I think we'll be fine." Austin patted your thigh.

" Well duh. I think you can tell from the fifty thousand times I’ve had us watch it that I whole heartedly agree.” You reminded him. 

Nodding Austin glanced over at you with a smile on his face.

‘And I can’t wait to keep watching it with you over and over again for the rest of my life. He thought.

Eventually the two of you were exiting the car in a parking lot a block away from the Totem. Austin said there was construction being done in the surrounding area of the place so the usual parking lot and spaces were blocked.

Grabbing Austin's hand you sighed already feeling your feet begin to ache at the thought of walking the block in the new black converse shoes you'd just bought that weren't broken in yet. You were feeling cute today for some reason so when you thought of wearing them, you paired the shoes with some nice jeans and a cute blue low neck long sleeved top Austin suggested while you got ready. The two of you were stopping by The Totem for a second before heading over to a casual gathering Austin had been invited to. So you wanted to look your best.

 Your hair was unusually silk pressed and flowing down your back since a couple days ago Alex had asked you to be her test dummy for a new heat protectant she wanted to try, and at the stipulation she clipped your ends you obliged. 

Noticing a frown on your face he asked, “ What’s the matter? “ Shaking your hand to get your attention.

Looking up you shook your head quickly, “ Nothing.” 

He raised he eyebrows while stopping you both, “ Y/N..” He asked.

You already knew that he wasn’t going to let it go you sighed, “ It’s nothing babe, honest. It’s just that I wish I would have worn better shoes. These are about to be a pain to walk in.” You huffed.

“ Well then don’t.” He stated simply back. “ Hop on.” He turned to move so you could jump on his back.

Giggling at how silly he looked you asked, “ Are you serious? “

He laughed back, “ About my baby being comfortable? Fuck yeah. Now c’mon.” He repeated. 

Doing a quick look around you shrugged, “ Okay..then.” You agreed moving to grab at his shoulders.

" Alright, mama. On the count of three. One...two..THREE!" He coached.

Shrieking in glee you launched yourself onto his back where you secured your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He made sure that you were attached to him good before he continued walking with a giddy you on his back.

You used a hand to cup the side of his cheek as you pressed a multitude of kisses to the side of his face and neck. Equally as happy he moved his head to the side to return the favor to a giggling you over and over again.

And before you knew the two of you had reached the door of the ever beloved totem, but once you seen the sign through the window your gleeful expression dropped.

Closed.

Immediately Austin could feel you begin to wiggle on his back in discontent, " No! No! No! Awe. I really wanted that cookie! " You pouted. " I could have sworn you said they were open when you checked."

Pressing another kiss to your cheek Austin wrapped you tighter around him, " I know, Mama. I did too." He offered." Maybe they just closed for a second for a cleaning or something." He tried reasoning. Just as you were about to suggest that the two of you pick up a box of insomnia cookies and go home to lounge in your underwear, Austin spotted your favorite barista through the door.

" Look it's Cameron. Maybe she can come to the door and we can ask." Austin suggests.

Your eyes grew in introverted horror, " No! No! Austin don't! " You protested trying to shift your body to get him to turn around.

But it was too late he'd already began knocking. " Hey Cam! Cameron! "

" Aus...." You whined feeling yourself involuntarily cringe.

But still that didn't stop him from continuing to knock on the door and call out like a mad person until Cameron finally came to the door cracking it open.

" Hey guys what's up? " She greeted looking chipper than usual. Probably because with the shop closing so her shift was shorter today.

" Nothing much. Sorry to bother you guys. I know you look to be closed and I really hate to ask truthfully. But is there any chance by the grace of God that you may have some oatmeal chocolate cookies and dark chocolate latte mix in there on stand by...maybe." He inquired squinting his eyes.

You turned your head cringing because you couldn't imagine ever feeling this confident to do something like this, and not to mention you felt bad bothering these poor people.

Turning her head to look back toward the café Cameron looked back to the two of you nodding, " I'm sure we could find some for the best of our two customers. Plus we're just closed for a couple hours for some deep cleaning so no big. C'mon in quick before anyone else sees you guys and thinks were open."           

   She ushered you in with a chorus of ‘thank yous’ coming from Austin and yourself.

Once you were inside Austin gently set you down pressing a kiss to your forehead while you made a puzzled face at him.

Even though he was a lot more social than you in most aspects due to his job, Austin was still just as much of a introvert as you at heart. So you were surprised he had knocked on the door like that.

Shrugging it off you glanced around at possibly your most favorite place on earth.

 It looked normal. None of the tables and chairs were put up, the bakery display was full, with treats and all the machines were still running. The only difference was that the store lights were slightly dimmed and that was really it.

They must have just closed. 

Grabbing your hand Austin walked you two over to the register so he could begin placing your usual orders.

For you, a medium light ice mango passion fruit tea with a oatmeal cookie chip cookie. As for him he always got, a extra cold oat milk latte with dark chocolate syrup and a shot of expresso that was usually paired with a cherry turnover of all things. And on days like these where the two of you hadn't eaten but still wanted to make dinner at home you split a harvarti grilled cheese (your favorite).

While Cameron rang it all up he turned to you, " You know what would go great with these, babe? " He questioned bringing out his wallet.

You stared up to him, " Hmm? "

" A poem from the poem machine to read. You mind going to get one while I take care of the rest of this." He questioned with a shiny quarter appearing in his hands to you.

You smiled, " No I don't mind. But first, put this in the tip jar for me, please." You asked handing him the five dollar bill, " And second keep you're quarter, babe I got my own." You shook your cute little googly eyed change purse at him.

The Totem had a really cool thing where they had a gumball machine full of poems from artists discovered and undiscovered throughout many periods of time. When the two of you started frequenting the place more often after your first encounter it'd become fun to get them to read. Plus all the money from the machine gets donated to minority charities which is a plus.

" I know you do. But I want you to use mine, please." He countered.

You frowned, " But you alrea-" . A kiss pressed to your lips cut you off and instead willed you to comply because when he pulled away and looked you dead in the eye, and without a word you took the quarter in your hand and ventured off to come back with a gumball poem.

Once you were around out of sight, Cameron clamped a hand over her mouth to hold in the excited scream that wanted to escape as Austin blew out a big breath of air watching you disappear a bit a ways.

He could hear quiet giggles and muffled laughs coming from the storage room where some of yours and Austin's closest friends were crammed into as they waited for their signal to pop out and start up the potential engagement party or crying session in the cafe's seating.

This whole thing had been two months of planning in advance. From both you and him conveniently both having the same day completely off which wasn't the norm, to all of a sudden earlier in the week Alex and Phoebe wanting to go to the nail salon for some girl time and the hair thing, yesterday night at a dinner hang Beatrice had out of no-where started bawling crying looking at you.                     

   And how The Totem wasn't actually closed for cleaning but rather booked out for the evening by Austin who'd instructed the close friends to get here a hour before the two of you and park sporadically in the area so you wouldn't get suspicious. The whole staff was in on it and had been in the kitchen working overtime to craft the menu Austin and the owner, Margo, had curated for later that consisted of all yours and his fave items from here. For the “casual gathering “ you were dressed for.

Earlier in your relationship during a random late night convo you’d lethargically told Austin your dream engagement scenario which included your future hubby to propose somewhere meaningful to the relationship with some kind of corny heartfelt action. You’d also joked that it’d be funny if there was like a surprise party after or something so you’d be able to skip the hassle of planning a engagement party. 

And even though the two of you sleepily had this conversation a year and a half ago, Austin never forgot.

Waiting until the coast was clear Phoebe walked out with tears in her eyes as she was overcome with excitement and anticipation silently coming around the counter and handing Austin the small black box she'd been entrusted with yesterday on the sly when she came to stop by really quick. Austin didn’t wanna risk you finding it at all. 

Riddled with he nerves shakily accepted it running his finger across the small black box.

Putting her hand over Austin's Phoebe whispered, " It's okay. Don't sweat it. You love her and she loves you. That's all that matters. Just remember to ease into and take your time." She encouraged. " And just keep loving my bestfriend." She advised.

Nodding Austin carefully wrapped her in a hug with a small chorus of thank yous tagged along.

When they pulled apart Phoebe motioned to the storage room door that was cracked as yours and Austin's friends stuck their heads out whisper yelling words of encouragement and thumbs up that stuck out from behind the heads. Including a Ashley who was bonding with her new-found friend Beatrice over a very hefty tissue they were both using. 

Nervously laughing and rubbing the back of his neck Austin cast them one last wave of  a thank you before the door closed and he moved over to bay-window table that had become you and Austin's staple spot. The food was already placed thanks to Cameron. Shooting her a thank you, clammy handed Austin rubbed them together blowing out air in nerves and anticipation while he waited for his future wife to come to the table.

Max, a staff member quietly made sure the camera hidden on a opposite table was rolling and the mic also hidden on your table was working well to feed to the speaker in the storage room so everyone could hear, then scampering back to the kitchen. 

---

When you made it to the poem machine you inserted the precious coin and turned the knob to produce the little plastic container. Although you did get distracted making your way back to the café by stopping to browse some books (which Austin had counted on), you'd picked up a new one by Kennedy Ryan titled Before I let go that you'd been hearing good things about.

Making your way back you found Austin at your table and took a seat.

Hearing your footsteps he quickly pulled himself together to put back on the confident and cool aura he'd been purposefully displaying today.

You can do this, just be cool.

Taking a seat you immediately thanked your man and then began to eat your delights. Austin grinned watching you moan in delight eating your goodies. 

" Good? " He asked watching you wiggle and sway around happily while munching.

You nodded throwing a thumbs up.

" Good. Now, what'd you find, honey? " Austin takes a sip of his latte.

Waiting a second to finish you answered, " Oh..Um. It's that book I told that I wanted to find by that new author I recently discovered Kennedy Ryan. It's the on about the couple who's still in-love with each other after they divorced after being married for years with kids."

At the mention of the D word Austin couldn't help the choke on his coffee that happened as he set down his drink trying to catch his breath.

 Immediately you reached across the table to pat his back in concern. Silently thanking you he motioned for you to sit back down much to your protest. He already felt nervous.

" I'm fine, baby. I'm alright just w-ent down the wrong pipe is all. " He reassured grabbing at your hand. Knowing you'd protest he spoke, "I'm okay really. Just while I catch my breath why don't you read the poem you got." He suggested biting the bullet as he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He knew he needed to ease into it, but he didn’t know if he’d be able to keep himself alive much longer. 

He'd waited two years already.

That was enough.

Still not totally convinced he was okay you still popped the little sucker open and unfolded the strip of square piece of paper.

Taking one more look at him as he offered you a somber smile and nod to the paper.

You smiled not knowing that the small prints on the paper were about to change your life,

" So, it says.." You started:

" To the love of my life,

Our love will be ever thine, ever mine, ever ours                                                    for each passing minute, second, and hour                                                       until the days of our love bleed together.

Because if you'll be my wife,                                                                                      and take me a fool in love as your husband you shall be always be my greatest inspiration and joy in life.

This may be corny, I admit but to you my heart, mind, soul, and essence I commit for forever, always, and beyond.

Written to you will all I am.

Your hopeful future husband,

Austin."

You finished glancing over the words.

" Awe that's so sweet that someone would write that." You said out loud still not fully processing what'd you read.

With extremely observant eyes Austin continued to watch you transform like a caterpillar of cluelessness from a cocoon, to a butterfly in disbelief as you slowly went through the phases of realization.

At first you felt warmth in your heart.

But as the reality set in you felt your heart sped up a little.

O-oh SHIT! 

Is this? Is he? 

For longer than a minute you couldn't stop your eyes from rapidly re-reading the poem over and over again until your vision got a little blurry and you could feel the paper become wet and slick up your fingertip.

Even though your brain was still working overtime to compute what the fuck you had just read. It wasn't fully sinking in until his voice pulled you from your racing thought.

" Baby..."

Like his voice controlled the room you could see out your peripheral that the main lights had been turned down even lower so that beautifully strung string lights that decorated the place brightly at night, popped on. And the sound of Michael Jackson’s Lady in my Life began to play over the store speakers. 

Slowly lifting your head while you felt the tears race each other down your face, you were met with Austin's face that was equally mixed with happiness, fear, and devotion wrapped all into one. He looked a bit flush and his cerulean eyes looked glossy with tears of his own. You watched him look to his own hand, training his view you let out a audible gasp.

And then you that's when you seen it, the small black box that he had in his hand.

 He cleared his throat before starting, " Two years ago today right here in this very spot I fell in love with you and had half the mind to ask you to marry me then. And each day since I’ve found a new reason to keep falling. Your the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last person I wanna see when I go to bed. I love you. I mean every part of you. I love your kind heart, budding intelligence, fierce loyalty, those curls and coils that grow our of your head toward the sun, those delicious thighs decorated with beautiful handcrafted marks and strokes from god's paint brush." You began blushing at this part.

" I want our children to inherit that smile that has the power to brighten any room you enter. I wanna look you in those gorgeous eyes that sparkle when you talk about your goals and dreams that I'll use every ounce of my power to support and help make happen. I'll keep forcing you to take cold medicine even if it means physically holding you like infant again. And I’ll watch Twilight, Lilo and Stitch, Greys Anatomy and whatever the hell else to keep you as happy as possible. " He recalled his interesting introduction to your aversion to flu medicine.

" Since knowing you there isn't anyone else I could imagine wanting to spend the rest of my life with. Sharing good times and bad, awkward and more awkward. " He continued making you smile. " You came into my life and made me grow as a human being and then from a little seedling our relationship has grown too through the love we have. And I want it to continue to grow...only now I hope it will grow with us as husband and wife." He declares.

“ Baby, you are the lady in my life and I want you and only you to be my lady. Forever.“ He continues.

Wordlessly you watched as he got up to kneel down in front of where you sat opening up the little black box to reveal a absolutely gorgeous ring you were almost too certain was too nice for your hand.

Looking to you he inhaled before asking staring you straight into your soul,         

“ So..Y/N Y/M/N Y/N, will do this poor fool in love a mercy and please marry me? “ He finished.

Still stunned you were quiet feeling as if you were stuck.

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

This man who could have married probably any woman on the planet was asking YOU, of all people to marry him.

YOU!

You felt worry begin to creep in. Worry that you wouldn’t be enough for him, worry that he wouldn’t always feel the same, but mostly worry that you’d screw this up. 

Growing up you’d never really had a example of a healthy or stable loving marriage. So how good would you be at something you had no idea about? 

That worry wanted to push you to say no and bolt out the door to go into the nearest witness protection program.

But when you looked at this man. Really looked your man, who you’d spent every minute of two years loving, and wanted to love for the rest of your life. 

All the worry melted.

Because he was it. He was the man who made even your deepest fears melt, and that was the kind of man you’d always hoped and prayed to marry.

You didn’t hide the gooey and down right bright smile that formulated on your face.

Not wanting to keep an obviously sweating Austin in suspense any longer, or unknowingly a whole backroom, kitchen staff, and others on edge who were clutching their pearls while holding on to each other. You spoke. 

" Does this mean on the honeymoon we get to play accidentally in love in the background and have a montage like Shrek and Fiona ...or one like twilight." You goofed smiling through tears.

Blowing out air of relief as he was sure he was about to keel over he chuckled, " Woman what am I gonna go with you." He admired laughing at the power only you possessed to make him laugh while he was having heart palpitations. 

Your smile widen, " Well, first your going to put that ring on my finger, and then lift out this chair and desperately make out with me, and then we're going to plan a honeymoon montage sequence to rival all honeymoon montage sequences, because the answer is yes. A million times yes I will marry you Austin Robert Butler." You answered before jumping up and down in your chair.

Not stopping the tears from rolling down his face he says, "So bossy, “ He joked laughed.

“ Well I warned you this would happen, didn’t I.”

“ You did. And whatever you say goes.” He grinned “ That’s the rule now.”

Grabbing your hand to slid on the stunning jewelry. You didn't get too long to gaze at on your finger because like you requested Austin stood to his feet pulling you up to hoist your legs around his waist as the two of you locked yourselves in a all breath taking, passion filled, white searing kiss that you wish could have lasted forever.

But of course it didn't because you both were interrupted by the sounds of multiple cheers and woops coming from somewhere.

Confused you pulled away watching in amazement as yours and Austin's friends pooled in from the storage room as well as some entering the store through the door.

You playfully pouted at him realizing now all the things he’d done. He’d actually taken you serious and listened.

God! You loved this man!

Placing a big fat kiss to his lips. You wiggled out his embrace before you were practically tackled by sobbing friends.

For the rest of the night the party was set up before your eyes and you got to celebrate mingling with yours and Austin’s friends who some congratulated the two of you, and others started planning future baby showers and anniversary dinners.

After things got a bit overwhelming, Austin had found you and recused you to a small quiet place between bookshelves so you could make out and slow dance the night away with your...fiancée.  

[stevethehairington]

i saw ur post and now i need to know what are your tommy hc’s and do u have any that are stommy

ohoho i am GLAD you asked because DO I EVER!!!

*cracks knuckles* STRAP IN 'cause here we GO...

tommy hagan. tommy hagan is one of five children, and he is the only boy. he is also the middle child, with two older sisters and two younger sisters. there is also a pretty decently sized gap between him and his sisters too, so like if he's 16, his older sisters are like maybe 19 and 23 and his younger sisters are like 10 and 8. i like to think that tommy's mom had her first child when she was young, so maybe 18ish, and if i did my math correctly (which if i didn't just roll with it anyways LOL) she'd be roughly 33 when she has her fifth kid. that would make tommy 8 at this time, and i like to think that when tommy was roughly 9 or 10, his dad left his mom, leaving her to raise 5 children, two of which are young toddlers, on her own. i think to think that tommy's dad was cheating on his mom, and this other woman (who is probably in her mid to late 20's oop) got pregnant, and tommy's dad left to go be with her and help her raise that baby. as if this was his chance to sort of like reset, start over with a brand new family.

this, naturally, fucked tommy up.

growing up as the middle child in a large family meant he was already wanting for attention, and his father leaving him cemented his abandonment issues 100%.

this, of course, explains why tommy takes on the "class clown" kind of role at school. it explains why he's always doing something to try to get the attention on him. it's why he's always cracking jokes, even at the expense of others. it's why he desires that popularity so much and values it so greatly. it's why he is always chasing after whoever holds the most power and will boost his reputation the most too.

i also like to think that these factors add up to result in tommy having some sort of anger issues too. he's grown up holding in a lot of this anger because he doesn't really have outlets to release it at home, especially considering his home life is the reason for a lot of this anger. but! this anger doesn't manifest itself in the way one might expect it to in a teenage boy. tommy isn't a violent guy. not in the least. he's angry, sure, but he's not stomping around making it everyone's problem all the time, and he's not always looking to pick a fight, and he's certainly not beating up on freshman just because they looked at him wrong. i think his anger stems from very specific circumstances - i.e. circumstances in which his control is slipping. and while he doesn't resort to physical violence in these situations (aside from maybe the occasional shove here or there, because that's the most we ever see onscreen in a moment when he is genuinely upset and angry), he most certainly lashes out. verbally. he says MEAN shit. CUTTING shit. CRUEL shit, sometimes. he's friends with carol, who is the QUEEN of biting retorts and scathing remarks. his tongue has absolutely sharpened over the years. not to mention, growing up with all sisters means he's accustomed to the way girls fight - with their words. with vicious mind games and cruelty of the tongue if need be. so tommy KNOWS how to go for the jugular with his words, which, sometimes, is worse than a punch to the nose.

but anyways. that anger only comes out in certain situations, not all the time, and when it comes down to it, he really is just your run of the mill "all bark, no bite" kind of a bully.

when it comes to tommy and steve, boy oh boy do i have A Lot of thoughts on them too.

i like to think that tommy and steve have been friends since grade school. think like kindergarten, and they get seated next to each other because both of their last names start with H, and steve, already, is this very charismatic little kindergartener. he's a total sweetheart, loves to share his toys, is always smiling and has all the other kindergarteners trailing behind him like little ducklings already because they allllllll want to be his friend. he ALWAYS has people asking him to play with them at recess. so when one day steve walks up to tommy and asks him if he wants to play - that is steve choosing tommy. and god, does that feel FANTASTIC for tommy already. being chosen like that? it's everything to him. he, of course, says yes, and the rest is history, as they say.

tommy and steve become inseperable. they're best friends. they do everything together.

and as they start growing up, and steve starts growing into his looks and he starts getting good at things like school and sports and that garners him a lot of attention. he's got people fawning over him and flocking towards him, all vying for even a sliver of that attention. and tommy's jealous of that, a little, BUT he also knows that at the end of the day, it's tommy that gets steve's full attention. it's tommy that steve tells all his secrets to. it's tommy who knows steve inside out and is known by steve inside and out. it's tommy who gets to call himself steve's best friend. and, of course, tommy REVELS in that. it's the attention he has been chasing his whole entire life, and it feels like the whole SUN is shining down on him every time steve looks at him and like WHOLE GALAXIES are bursting in his chest every time steve talks to him.

these feelings and the fact that tommy never wants them to end means that tommy, naturally, feels a bit possessive over steve. what he fails to realize, though, is that this possessiveness is a little more deeply rooted than just wanting to keep steve's attention and his friendship.

he doesn't realize that until steve starts to look at girls.

until he starts to talk about them, talk to them. until he starts to take them out.

the first time tommy sees steve with a pretty girl on his arm, he gets this sick, curdled, twisting feeling in his gut. at first he thinks it's because he's jealous of steve. jealous that he has a date and tommy doesn't. but when steve comes back and tells tommy that it didn't work out, there is this feeling of sheer relief that floods through him. he doesn't really understand it at first, and definitely doesn't examine it too closely either, just sort of shoves it down deep and doesn't worry about it. but then steve finds another girl, and this time things DO go well, and, naturally, as steve's best friend, tommy becomes the person that steve tells everything to. he tells tommy all about the dates, all about the kisses he shares with these girls, all about when things go a little further... tommy listens, because of course he does, but the whole time he's thinking all these horrible thoughts about the girl and that ugly feeling is back knotting up his insides. and when steve tells tommy about losing his virginity - OH BOY. he goes into detail, because that's what teenage boys do, and tommy listens but he's sitting there with this whole STORM of emotions swirling through his head - the twisted need to know more, the urge to scream at steve to shut up, disgust because he doesn't want to think about steve with someone else, turned on because its steve talking about having sex, deep shame because hes forced to face the fact that he's wishing it was him with steve instead of that girl. this, perhaps, is even the first time tommy is like. FULLY faced with the true nature of his feelings, the ones he's been shoving away and ignoring this whole time.

all this to say that steve is tommy's gay awakening (not that he acknowledges that that's what it is until Y E A R S and Y E A R S later.; probably not until long after he and steve aren't talking, aren't friends, until long after the last time they've even seen each other.)

BUT. i think that also goes in reverse- i think that tommy was steve's biwakening (again, not that he realizes that's what it was until much later too).

my favorite stommy headcanon is that they were each other's first kiss. i actually wrote a whole fic about it, which you can find here. but, basically, what it boils down to, is the two of them are like fourteen, and they're having a sleepover, sharing the bed because they might be getting to the point where they're a little too old for that, but they're going to cling to it a little bit longer anyways. they're hiding under the covers, they've got the sheets pulled up over their head, lost in this little bubble they've created together. their heads are bent close, they can feel each other's laughter ghost against their lips, that's how close they are. and they're talking about it. about girls, about kissing. and tommy can't stop looking at steve's lips, can't stop thinking about kissing steve, not the pretty junior all the boys are obsessing over. and he gets so caught up in it that... that he just. he does it. he leans over and kisses steve. its a quick kiss, fleeting, barely even a real kiss at all. but it happened. tommy hagan kissed steve harrington. and steve is. he's quiet. shocked, probably. and that quiet gives tommy's head ALLLL the room and ALLLL the time to start panicking - because he knows boys aren't supposed to kiss other boys. they aren't supposed to even want that, let alone actually do it. and steve, who isn't reacting poorly at all because unbeknownst to tommy, steve is also reeling from the thought that he wanted it to happen too, that he liked it, he tries to say something to tommy about it, to tell him it's okay or something like that, but tommy cuts him off and the moment is shattered.

and they don't talk about it again.

and ANOTHER favorite stommy headcanon of mine that can either be something that happens as a result of this first kiss hc or can be something entirely separate, BUT i love the idea that tommy and steve fool around together and like don't think anything of it really. if this first kiss did happen, then it's several years later when the memory of it is (read: should be, but it's not, it's so not) long forgotten. if that first kiss didn't happen, then it's just a thing that starts. my favorite way of thinking it started with the two of them masturbating together. like, either it's one morning after a sleepover and y'know, teenage boys, they're gonna wake up with morning wood sometimes lol, and tommy notices and makes some joke about it and steve goes a little pink about it and tries to brush it off, but then tommy's like you can take care of it if you want. i don't mind. and steve's like... what like... like right here you mean? like right now? and tommy just shrugs and goes yeah sure whatever, it's just jerking off man. you do it, i do it. im not gonna judge. and steve's a little hesitant, but there's something in his gut that's telling him to do it. so he does. he stays under the blankets though, laid out on the floor. tommy flops onto his back on his bed, but he tilts his head so that he can see steve out of his peripherals, can see the rustle of the blanket as he works himself over beneath it. tommy doesn't touch himself the first time. but it happens again. and the next time it happens tommy does. he makes the excuse that he woke up like that too, and if steve's gonna do it then he is too because that's not fair if only one of them gets off. and it keeps happening like that, the two of them jerking off separately but together. until one day, maybe theyre watching a movie, and maybe it gets a little sexy, and tommy was already kind of wound up (maaaybe he and steve were swimming in steve's pool earlier and seeing so much of steve's skin all shiny and glistening... HOBOY. tommy's been on edge all day basically) and so tommy is sitting there and starts kind of squirming a little, and steve notices, of course he does, and so it's steve this time that makes the first jump, teases tommy about getting hot over the movie but then tells him he can. he can touch himself if he wants. and there's no blanket in sight this time. no shield. and fuck, tommy's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth - if steve harrington tells you you can jerk off in front of him, you don't tell him no, right. so tommy does. and of course, steve starts to touch himself too, blames it on the movie (even though it's not the movie, not at all, tommy's making these quiet, pinched off noises like he's trying not to but they're slipping out anyways and jesus christ.) and steve asks if its okay if he like takes his dick out, because its too confined, he can't get a good enough grip if he's trying to keep his pants fully on like that, and tommy's heart JUMPS into his throat and all he can do is nod. and he HEARS steve's zipper go down, but he forces himself to look forward, to not steal a glance at steve. that's- that would be too far right? he cant look. and that happens. and that keeps happening too. and, naturally, each time it happens it goes a step further. like all of the sudden they are looking at each other. and then one day steve's hand knocks tommy's out of the way and wraps around him and holyfuckingshit steve harrington is giving him a handjob. but the thing is they never talk about it. hey never actually address what is happening. it's like it never did. but it keeps happening and then suddenly tommy is touching steve too, and they're jerking each other off. and eventually that leads to blowjobs - which tommy still can't wrap his head around how that happened.

but they haven't kissed. they don't kiss. it's easy to brush handjobs and blowjobs off as just sex. physicality because they have needs that cannot be met otherwise. but kissing. kissing is a different sort of intimate. it's crossing that line in a way that cannot be uncrossed. so they don't do it.

until they do. except im thinking it only happens because theyre drunk. or high. it's an accident, really. only it's not. and that breaks another dam. but unlike the rest, they only do this when they're inebriated. they don't do it sober. sober makes it real. and neither one of them are ready to acknowledge that.

but then it stops. steve meets nancy wheeler. steve meets nancy wheeler and everything changes.

AHH omg. this post got VERY LONG. kdljfsdkfs. (also this is like. the most i've quasi-written in MONTHS so thank you for that, genuinely, that felt great sfjgfdsfdg). BUT YEAH. some of my personal tommy lore and some of my fave stommy hcs!!! if you want to read more of my tommy lore/stommy hcs in like actual writing form you can totally check out that first kiss fic i linked above or i have another stommy-adjacent fic which is a tommy pov -tommy-runs-into-steddie-at-their-high-school-reunion-and-has-feelings-about-it fic, which delves into some more stommy hcs i have and also my hc lore about tommy and carol! you can find that one here!

THANK YOU very very much for this ask and THANK YOU very much for reading all of this if you've made it to the bottom here!! i appreciate!!! and i looooove talking about tommy and stommy and tommy and carol so, as always, if you ever want to talk more or hear more of my lore/hcs literally always feel free to dm me or to send more asks or anything like that!! i love talking about it!!

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Smashing Pumpkins - Siamese Dream

Not quite massively mainstream, but still a step above indie. A little too hazy to just be alternative rock, but not enough to be a full on shoegaze album. Somehow Siamese Dream manages to fall outside of the boxes it was aiming for, but the result is Smashing Pumpkins' most artistically sound release. They're more polished than on Gish, but it just helps put a finer point on their strengths. Corgan's voice is just far enough up on the mix to be fully intelligible, but not dominating it. The guitars are heavily layered and take up all the space they can in the mix whether the gentle acoustics of Sweet Sweet or the intensely heavy Geek U.S.A.. Corgan may be a megalomaniac, but this album really shows that he had a strong artistic vision at one point.

Snoop Dogg - Doggystyle

Where others were trying to be the toughest cop killingest rappers in the game, Snoop opted to be the weed smokingest biggest balls rapper. While still playing in the kayfabe of 90s hip hop he carves out a new niche as a disaffected cool guy who loves weed and doesn't really care what other people think. Snoop stands out from his peers not just because he perfectly embodies the Death Row Records G-Funk sound, but because his attitude necessitated a different type of flow. Snoop is so laid back in his delivery and rarely expresses anything other than mild amusement that anyone would be dumb enough to not want to be him. Somehow the attitude is infectious rather than annoying, and it drives the album to new highs that were unassailable even by Snoop himself who never quite topped his debut.

Janet Jackson - Rhythm Nation 1814

The release of 86s Control cemented Janet Jackson as a pop giant, but it was the follow up that proved she was probably the most talented member of the Jackson family. Fully embracing the New Jack Swing sound that she had pioneered on Nasty, Rhythm Nation is full of funky Hip Hop beats. This album defined pop music in the 90s, practically everyone started incorporating Hip Hop into R&B. But none of the imitators ever found a balance of edginess and sweetness, of hard beats and bubbly pop that Janet Jackson managed on this record.

Brian Eno - Another Green World

This is Brian Eno in transition for sure. The ambient sounds of Discreet Music are barely present, but the quirky pop sensibilities of Here Come The Warm Jets fully abandoned. But there are no stepping stone albums in Eno's discography. Another Green World is just as much a fully fleshed out idea as anything else. In this case ethereal beauty is the driving force. There are still some pop sensibilities on songs like St. Elmo's Fire and I'll Come Running, but they lack the outright goofiness of his earlier work. Instead the album is driven by it's instrumentals and in true Eno fashion there are a swath of guest musicians here to flesh out the sound. Phil Collins, Robert Fripp, Percy Jones, and John Cale all make contributions and it really provides a lush atmosphere. Basically everything that Eno recorded, collaborated on, or produced is a masterpiece and Another Green World is one of his best.

Bob Dylan - John Wesley Harding

I feel like this is an underrated gem from Dylan's collection. It's main claim to fame is that it has the less popular version of All Along The Watchtower. I think Dylan actually nails the depression era hobo folk singer thing that he was clearly going for at the beginning of his career. Dear Landlord, I Am A Lonesome Hobo, and I Pity The Poor Immigrant all have strong Pete Seeger vibes while Drifter's Escape and I'll Be Your Baby Tonight are straight up country songs. It's a sharp turn from his electric era and I think Dylan is at his best when he's taking sharp turns.

Roxy Music - Avalon

I wasn't familiar with this album so I was surprised and quite happy to see that it's wholly unlike any other Roxy Music album I've heard before. Gone is the wry wit and glam quirkiness and in its place is raw romantic sincerity and smooth synths. This album has that sterile synth sound that I associate with albums that 70s prog bands put out in the 80s but it really works here. I think there's just more texture to the sounds, instead of plastic it sounds ethereal, haunted kinda. Like the kind of eerie unease that comes with letting yourself be truly known.

Bob Dylan and The Band - The Basement Tapes

I honestly think that Dylan's work with the band The Band is his best stuff. Both groups compliment each other really well and they seem to let loose when they team up. The basement tapes in particular feel a lot more fun than any other album by either artist on their own. Dylan is bluesier and The Band are a little less maudlin, like they were trying to make music in each other's style and both hit the same middle ground. It's prolly a little long, coming in over 70 minutes of music with an admittedly low level of variety, but the energy will definitely keep any blues rock or folk rock fans engaged for the full run.

Santana - Abraxas

Carlos Santana is a talented but uninspired guitarist. Come at me dads. I actually like this album a lot though. While Santana may only have one and a half guitar solos in his back pocket he also has a good sense for vibes and some great percussion. And his two smash hits are covers that blow the originals out of the water so he's doing something right. I only come down hard because Santana is treated like a guitar god or something and he really isn't but his style has influenced other better guitar players so I won't dismiss him outright.

Bill Withers - Still Bill

Bill Withers had an incredible way of dropping monstrous pop hits and still flying under the radar. It feels like instead of a string of hits he's just a one hit wonder five times in a row. Withers has all of the energy of early 70s funk and all the soul of a 60s Stax release. While overshadowed by some of his contemporaries Withers still should be seen as a titan of Soul music and this album shows it. Even funkier than his debut and led by a couple of beastly good singles. Use Me has the coolest funk grooves and Lean On Me is pretty much the platonic love song of all time.

Elvis Presley - s/t

How can I be even handed when taking about rock and roll's greatest colonizer? This album is unreviewable, do I like the music on it? Yes, I actually do. But even if I hated it you should still listen to it for the historical value. This album marks the beginning of the modern music industry. The sale of Elvis Presley's recording contract to colonel Tom Parker and RCA Records is a moment that changed musical history and this album, the result of that sale, is necessary listening for anyone that cares even a little bit about popular music. Elvis is non negotiable. You can't talk about Rome without talking about Caesar and you can't talk about popular music without talking about Elvis.

[oliviermiraarmstrongs]

mid-year book freak out tag

@bloody-wonder tagged me so now I have an excuse to talk about books I read

1. Best Book You’ve Read So Far in 2023? probably her body and other parties by carmen maria machado, my favorites stories from it being “the husband stitch” and “especially heinous”. I love how the former weaves together urban legends as a backdrop and the latter is a surrealist meta version of law and order svu, which is much better than it sounds.

2. Best Sequel You’ve Read So Far in 2023?

3. New Release You Haven’t Read Yet, But Want To? I’m curious about juniper and thorn by ava reid, and I can’t say the amount of pearl-clutching over it hasn’t played a part in bringing it to my attention. but really, I just like gothic horror and dark fairy tales!

4. Most Anticipated Release For Second Half of 2023? I dunno, I’m not up-to-date on these things

5. Biggest Disappointment? I’d say world war z and the southern book club’s guide to slaying vampires, but I had to read those for class so it’s not like I had any expectations anyway (for the record, WWZ I never finished bc all the militarism and boring technical stuff turned me off; southern book club kept my attention but its themes were delivered with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, the characters were thinly sketched, the ending was anticlimactic, and the broad and wacky tone did not mesh well with the grotesque (often sexual) violence), so a better example would be a thousand ships; admittedly my standards also weren’t very high; I have a sort of “I can fix her” attitude towards mythological retellings; I know a lot of them fall short, but they’re like comfort food to me, and when one hits, it fucking hits. natalie haynes, you did not hit! nothing the book did justified it as a retelling, there wasn’t any sort of unique spin or exploration into the female characters’ interiority; it just did the trojan cycle again but sometimes we’re reminded that women…were there. Whoever said this was a better version of TSOA was telling straight lies!

6. Biggest Surprise? I didn’t have high hopes for mexican gothic, mostly out of a pretentious impulse I have to expect popular new-ish releases to be mid. Still, I love a gothic novel, so I decided to check it out. I was pleasantly surprised to find it to be not only very engrossing, but also a clever reworking of gothic tropes tied to a specific cultural setting. It really understood gothic horror not just aesthetically, but also a vehicle for themes of corrupt aristocracy, and the overlap between desire and disgust, and fucked-up families in an incestuous cycle of abuse. It’s still pretty flawed - I think the dialogue could be a bit clunky, especially in the case of the old village woman who feels less like a person and more like an exposition machine - but overall a great read, and I’d love to see more from Moreno-Garcia.

7. Favorite New Author? I already loved angela carter’s work in the bloody chamber, but nights at the circus is the first full-length novel I’ve read from her, and it really cements her as one of the greats.

8. Newest Favorite Character? sophia fevvers from nights at the circus, a bawdy, cockney, rubenesque trapeze artist famed across turn-of-the-century europe for her wings. Also enjoys proto-feminism, gold-digging, and hanging out with her tiny, feisty, anarchist-leaning foster-mother. There’s maybe meant to be some tension throughout the story over whether or not her insanely eventful life story is exaggerated or not, but I never doubted her. Believe women.

9. Newest Fictional Crush? Lady Jessica, the coolest milf the bene gesserit ever produced

💕Best Ship?💕 I didn’t read much with good shipping material, but shout out to noémi from mexican gothic and her boy version of a fragile and sheltered victorian waif love interest whose name escapes me. She’s always describing him like “He was so pale and iron-deficient and frail like a little baby bird and NOT HOT. I desire him carnally.” and meanwhile he’s just showing her his many different types of fungi. Less alpha males, more guys like this.

10. Book That Made You Cry? “eight bites” from her body and other parties hit a little too close to home; it captured really well how dysphoria drives you to abuse your own body, and how that hurts not just yourself but the people around you. “my mother and I” by lucy dacus-coded

11. Book That Made You Happy? I don’t read happy books! But probably nights at the circus, there be whimsy in these pages.

12. Favorite Book Adaptations You Saw This Year? andrea arnold’s 2011 adaptation of wuthering heights nearly made me feral. there’s not really a definitive film version, but the one from 2011, - while not perfect as an adaptation since, like most of them, it only covers the first half of the book - I’d say does the best job of capturing the spirit of the original. the thing that really impressed me was its portrayal of heathcliff - not as a brooding romantic hero nor an inhuman psychopath, but a boy who became something terrible because society never saw him as anything else. It’s film very subjectively, with shaky cam, no score, and nearly every scene being from heathcliff’s perspective - the iconic “I am Heathcliff!” speech is never shown in full, since he left before hearing the rest of it. It’s a really strong artistic choice to place the story firmly in heathcliff’s perspective, and it’s made more interesting by being one of the few adaptations to play into the book’s racial subtext.

13. Favorite Review You’ve Written This Year?

14. Most Beautiful Cover? The barnes and noble special edition of dune I have, which is gorgeous but also really impractical to carry around (pic from google images, I’m not at home rn)

15. What Books Do You Need To Read By The End Of The Year? I gotta finish dune since I started at the beginning of the year and paused since I was so busy with school (and later paused again bc I was bored 🫣).

tagging @antema, @stolehisdog, @betweenironyandsilver, @vampire-juicebox, @chdarling, @excuseforadrink, @danielarlingtongf, @borispavlikovskys, and @altraviolence, if u wanna!

[greysonlove]

❝ i've got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you ❞

stats:

full name / greyson henry love

nicknames / grey

age / 38

dob / jan. 5th

star sign / capricorn

sexuality / bisexual

hometown / london, england

current residence / seattle, wa

subject / building a spell: the art of poetry in magic

demeanor:

likes ; brand new pens, the smell of old books, playing guitar, going to smaller venue concerts, taking the ferry, walking the waterfront, adding a new book to his collection, cucumbers

dislikes ; talk of the war, when people ask if he's met the queen after they hear his accent, wands

usual temperament ; quiet, reserved, usually lost in a thought. generally he can be found in his classroom either grading papers or playing his guitar between classes. he always has time for his students, and takes great care in making sure they know they can always come to him for help. he still remembers the disinterest in many of his professors in hogwarts, and he strives to be nothing like them.

highlights:

greyson spent his days in a cold manor. his parents expected too much, always, and he always exceeded expectations. but it was never enough. they always wanted more and used brute force to make that known. it took a long time for him to simply stop caring. he focused on music, the one thing he really cared about, and did well enough in school to get by. he quickly became the family shame. it was why, after leaving hogwarts, he dropped the last name greengrass and changed it to love. a small nod to something he'd never had.

for a long time he floated. played his music well enough to make some money and make a name for himself locally. met a girl named delilah and fell in love. within a few months of their relationship she fell pregnant. he was terrified and she was excited, together they planned their lives together as a family. even started planning a wedding. up until his daughter was born he remained afraid, though he kept it to himself as best as he could. but the moment he watched her come into this world...he loved her. he was still terrified, but he was sure he would be nothing like his parents. rosalind love was born at 2:13am and his world was forever changed.

unfortunately, his relationship with delilah changed as well. she avoided him and their baby. accused him of wanting to run off and just play his music and not loving either of them. and then about 3 months later she was gone. leaving him alone with their daughter. he tried for over a year to find her until he had to just give up and accept that it was just him and his rosie from now on.

the year before she got her letter the rumors about voldemort's return were starting. he knew his daughter was a witch, and that if there was any truth to this she could be in danger, especially if anyone knew her mother was a muggle. so he fled before she could ever get her first letter. in the time since she'd been born he'd started exploring magic again but with a different approach. one that had interested a few magical universities. but it was the offer from uw he took because it brought him and his baby girl far away from a war she should never have to fight. in the years as things ramped up and he heard reports of the tragedies coming from his old school, it cemented his lack of regret over leaving.

rosie opted to only attend a magical school in seattle. her reasoning was that she hated math, and if she was going to be forced to learn it then she better also learn some really cool stuff too. greyson didn't mind, despite his own reservations with the magical world, he could see it was different enough here that things might be okay for her.

his family never reached out, but he heard they'd joined the death eaters, all while still calling him the family shame. he knew very few of them would survive a real war. they were monsters, sure, but they were also pampered housecats that didn't really care to get their hands dirty. should it come to that, he will not mourn them, nor will he ever step foot back there to help the fight. not if it meant putting his daughter at risk.

[englishflagcumrag]

all of them for jarmo too fuck you bully the little man

me sowing (sending you two of these and reblogging the thingy twice asking for more) me reaping (getting the asks i asked for)

💖 Has your OC ever been in love, be it romantic or platonic or otherwise? Who with and did they ever express their feelings or keep it private? How long did these feelings persist / do they still feel this way?

oh like a billion times. i know i've only really got teo romeo down as his ex but i do think he's had a good few over the course of his life, and at least as many intense crushes that didn't go anywhere. he goes from "oh they're cute :3" to "run away with me let's start a new life together on the coast" in about 30 seconds and he's incapable of hiding it. i think feelings persist after things end for a while (and he's deeply pathetic about it) but it ends pretty abruptly once it's out of his system. also he is in love with kalevi. platonically, except when he's doing a bit.

❌ What kind of things would end any relationship for them? Is there a history behind why these things bother them? Could they ever take someone back despite this? If so or if not, why?

like probably if anyone was even kind of mean to kalevi he would throw them to the curb immediately. instant dealbreaker forever. other than that he'll tolerate a lot. usually though, he is the one getting broken up with.

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why?

he's sooo affectionate he loves a cuddly he loves a kissy. especially physically (he gives good hugs and he knows it) but he's got good compliments too. his dad was a little bitch about Men Getting To Hug so at some point he was like. fuck you dad i'm gonna kiss my besties with tongue.

🌹 How easy is it for them to connect with others and make friends? On the flip side how easy is it for them to make an enemy of someone? Are they the kind of person who hangs around the food table at a party and never talks to anyone or are they the type who can talk to anyone?

he goes either way very easily. he's friendly but he's also confrontational and if he gets mad he gets MAD. more often than not he's nice to people so long as they're nice in return.

🍒 What kind of things do they expect from their relationships? Does this differ between platonic relationships and romantic ones? Is your OC “demanding” or a door mat? What kinds of things do people expect from them in a relationship?

he's really a bit of a pushover - he worries if he demands too much people will leave him. he is also a big baby with big feelings so he can try all he likes to hide it but anyone paying attention can tell he's way needier than he lets on.

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

liked colours: black, red, blue disliked colours: pastels liked textures: leather (wink), wood (wink), hair (wink), cement (alright let's stop here) disliked textures: he's not That bothered about textures. he is autistic but he has pretty minimal sensory issues i think. liked music: metal. either big and scary metal that itches his brain all nice or the sillier stuff, but really he likes just about anything metal. occasional eurovision fan. disliked music: most things that aren't metal are uninteresting to him at most, he especially doesn't like sorta ukelele indie ballad kinda stuff. type of eurovision fan to be extremely mad about ballads. liked weather: he likes storms for goth reasons and sun for Living In Finland reasons. disliked weather: when its cold as fuck but theres not even snow. whats the point.

🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

meal: soup especially if kal made it. snack: bread especially if kal made it. dessert: cinnamon buns especially if kal made them. drink (non alcoholic): one of those dudes who drinks bonkers amounts of pepsi. he also makes a banger hot chocolate. drink (alcoholic): spirits. he's not picky.

What is your OC’s most hated food? Stuff they can’t stand to eat or drink?

this bitch has 0 spice tolerance

🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

it's not often, because money, but he really likes concerts. he'll go to concerts even if its not a band he's that into just for the catharsis of shouting a bunch. it's how he met tuomma :]

Is there anywhere your OC hates to go to? Anywhere that stresses them out or have negative memories of?

same hometown issues as kal ig.

🧡 Who is your OC’s favourite person? Why is this person the top of their list and have they actually met them (an idol or rolemodel or celeb can be someone’s favourite after all!).

kalevi self explanatory

Who does your OC absolutely hate, the one person who they’d sell to Satan for one corn chip? Why do they loathe this person so?

his dad lol

📙 What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or that they can talk for hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?

metal, pro wrestling, dogs especially pitbulls, fantasy, ttrpgs

What things bore your OC to tears and they couldn’t care less about? Why?

he gets bored very very easily by a lot of things, adhd king that he is. he is terrible at reading. anything that is on paper will not make it into his brain.

😊 What can make your OC smile even when they’re feeling down? What cheers them up and makes everything feel better for them? Is your OC generally a happy person and do they enjoy making others smile? What about your OC makes others happy?

kalevi :] tuomma :] he loves his bestie and his boyfriend. that or a little bit of loud music and shouting and dancing around. shake all the Bad out. he's generally pretty cheerful - his brain is fuck but he kinda. still has to live his life yknow. so he finds a lot of joy in little things. and other people like his immense goofiness and cisgender tboy swag.

⭐ What is your OC afraid of? Any crippling phobias or some such? How do they act when scared and what helps them calm down? Does anyone ever find your OC scary? Why?

if we're talking intangible then like. rejection. i keep writing jejection. i think we should change it to jejection. if we're talking tangible i can see him being a bit scared of heights. yes because he's 5'3.

🍋 Does your OC act petty and jealous easily? What sort of things make them feel like this and do they experience guilt for getting so worked up? How do they deal with these emotions when they get them? If your OC doesn’t feel like this often, why not?

he's pretty forgiving but he's sooo jealous. but he's also like horny about it. if he thinks someone else is kind of flirting with tuomma he cries and screams and shits but in a way that implies he is going to jack off about it later. it doesnt really bother tuomma (jokes on you he's into that shit). jarmo doesn't like that he does it though and every time he's like "next time i get jealous i will be normal" and then he isn't.

📀 How easy is it to shock your OC? To confuse them? To lie to them, to manipulate them? How are they with feelings of trust? Can your OC be trusted?

he's not so easily shocked - less desensitised than kalevi but he'll take anything in stride pretty easy. he's pretty easily confused in a thotty little bimbo kinda way. he's pretty gullible and trusts easily, unless one happens to be an authority figure of some kind and then he will attack you like a dog. he's trustworthy too - i think if he were to try lying he would feel bad and stop in a matter of seconds.

💛 In general, how in control of their emotions is your OC? Do they have a good hold on them or do their emotions control them, not the other way around? What do you think is the reason behind this and is your OC ever concerned about their lack of or good control?

0 control at all. man walks dick first into emotional turmoil cries 3x a day at LEAST takes home random pieces of furniture people leave outside their houses that he cannot fit in his room because it makes him sad to see broken chairs being abandoned. he's pretty self-conscious about all that - he's internalised some bonkers toxic masculinity in his childhood. he gets stuck in this limbo where he's too emotional to hide it but he's too self-conscious to just embrace himself so he ends up hiding in bathrooms and apologising a lot.

🌳 Compare your OC to themself from 10 years ago. How has their mental state changed since then, how have they aged and grown up? Would they say they’re in a better place than they were back then or do they need help? What advice would they give their younger self? What advice would their younger self give to them now?

like with kal i don't really have much of a grasp on jarmo's 30s, but if you're keeping track, this is slightly later than kal's. on kal's i was kind of talking about him at 19-20ish, and this would have been after that, when jarmo was maybe 21-22. both of these are more like 22-24 years ago but who's counting. around this time, jarmo's laundry list of disorders was both at its peak and completely undiagnosed. iisakki had met his future wife eleonoora, and though they had only been dating for a few months they were very, very in love, so when he got pregnant with reuben they took the opportunity to move in together as fast as possible. iisakki moving out got jarmo terrified, leading him to spiral like crazy and eventually get himself hospitalised. these days he has sooo many diagnoses and is medicated and stuff. he kind of avoided therapy because getting hospitalised was so sucks but he's gotten a little more accustomed to his own head i guess. he also stopped trying to convince himself that you can fuck men heterosexually if you do it right and just admitted he was bi. he's not all there yet but he slays nonetheless. he'd tell his younger self to be a little more forgiving on himself and a little less of a fucking idiot. his younger self would say "i made it to 44 and i'm STILL insane? fuck me."

🍏 Does your OC have any triggers? What is the history behind these triggers and are they related to any disorders or mental illnesses? In what ways does your OC react to being triggered?

the sound of buckles, getting shouted at, getting grabbed and shoved around. yknow. Dad Stuff. buckles are a minor one, it just puts him on edge, but the others can get him pretty panicky.

🥝 What does a bad mental health day look like for your OC? Walk us through it with them. What kind of things can help them out of this slump and what kinds of things comfort them when they start to feel like this?

he gets sort of irritable and emotional. he takes even worse care of himself than usual and he cries a lot. either that or he gets impulsive and weird. bipolar hours. usually all it takes is kalevi or sometimes tuomma to pick him up by the scruff of his neck, put him in time out, and give him maybe a drink and a little tenderness.

🍐 What is your OC’s mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making!

"thought patterns" "reasoning" fuck it we ball mindset with occasional emotional meltdowns from unknown sources. god bless.

💚 Talk about some of the traumatic events in your OC’s life. These events can be ones that have happened to them or a loved one. These events can be minor or major.

his parents were shit abusive fascists and most of his childhood was spent in at least a little fear.

they had a dog, kosto, who jarmo's dad wanted to be a guard dog, something he mostly tried to achieve by mistreating him. jarmo loved kosto and gave him all the cuddles and pets and treats he could behind his dad's back. one night, when jarmo's dad was especially violent, kosto stepped between them and bit him on the leg to protect jarmo. he was put down shortly after.

kalevi, his best friend, left for boarding school when they were 11 which was a bad time for him.

long before he started allowing himself to question his sexuality, his dad let jarmo tag along to a bar with him and his friends. he mostly ignored jarmo but he still liked to be included. some time into the night jarmo spotted a gay couple at another table. he was interested for reasons he would take decades to understand. when his dad saw them he was already pretty drunk. he got mad and started harassing the pair until the three of them got kicked out. jarmo was made to wait in the car for a few minutes. a few weeks later, his dad was on trial for hate crime and manslaughter charges. despite an eyewitness account from the deceased's severely injured boyfriend, jarmo's dad, a cop, got away with everything. jarmo was 13. he would not figure out he was bisexual until he was 44.

in their late teens he and iisakki started saving up and planning to run away to helsinki together with jarmo's sister kaisa. things with jarmo's parents started getting worse and they were starting to catch on to their plan, so he and iisakki left before they had the money for three people, leaving kaisa behind and permanently damaging their relationship. though things are a lot smoother now, the guilt has never gone away.

when kalevi joined them a year or so later (with money to help them into a slightly bigger place) he was in a bad state. jarmo was a good friend about it and did his best, but when he found kalevi after a suicide attempt that fucked him up for a while.

also, a lot of breakups over the years. not especially traumatic but he has never taken one well ever.

💧 What is the earliest memory your OC can recall? Do they know what their first words were or remember where they took their first steps? Do they have any mementos of their childhood they’ve kept such as a stuffed toy or tiny baby clothes?

defiitely somethng to do with kal - possibly the same memory of them meeting but he has a shit memory. maybe something more recent. his first words were maybe something to do with animals. he was a big animal guy as a kid.

🌠 Who was your OC’s first friend? Do they remember them or are they still friends now? Talk about some of the people your OC has lost contact with over the years. Do they have any regrets about losing these people and would they revist them if they could?

kalevi! his bestie forever! he's had a lot of messy breakups with friends and girlfriends (especially teodora-romeo, who had the poor timing to break up with him when he was off his meds, leading to about a month of very pathetic phone calls) but kalevi has been a constant in his life. he has a lot of regrets but it's probably for the best that he doesn't call anyone from the trail of destruction he's left behind him.

💙 What did your OC want to be when they grew up and why? Did they have any lifelong dreams or ambitions they never got to work on or are they currently working to achieve this dream? Has their life taken a very unexpected turn and put all these plans on hold for a while or have they given up on any dreams?

i think he's always been a little directionless. he had various ambitions as a kid, a few years where he really wanted to be a tattoo artist but never really took to the art bit, but when it came down to starting a career for himself, he stuck with the manual labour he'd been doing since he was a teenager. it's only now, as the company he works for has been bought by a big corporation and is cutting more and more corners and the years of work are starting to take a toll on his body, that he's started considering a different job. i don't think he really knows what, and it's been almost 30 years so changing now is kinda daunting.

🌀 Where is your OC from? Where were they born? Do they still live there, if not why did they move? If they still live in the area how has it changed since their childhood? How many places has your OC lived in and where has been their favourite?

he comes from the same small town as kalevi. he and iisakki moved out together when they were 18 and 21 - he needed to get away from his parents and iisakki just hated living there. he's lived in helsinki ever since and he likes it much more.

💤 What was your OC like as a baby, a child and as a teen? (if your OC is a teen or a child, what will they be like as an adult?). How have they changed since then? What lessons have they learned and what things about their youth do they miss the most? Do they have any general regrets?

baby: a bit of a troublemaker, cried a lot, but very charming. child: wolf kid. textbook undiagnosed neurodivergent kid. spent most of his time off in the woods hitting things with sticks. kind of a shithead, got into a lot of fights, especially defending kal's honour. always had some kind of scrapes, and nobody really cared to differentiate between what was him being clumsy/confrontational/an idiot and what was him being Severely Abused. he kind of bought into his dad's insane evil politics - he never believed it enough to really do any harm (even before he was old enough to understand the politics he understood the concept of "don't be mean to kalevi he's my friend"), and just being around kal and recognising his humanity did a lot to make him normal, but he also didn't question the ideas flying around his house. teen: iisakki moved in next door when he was 11/12, around the same time that kalevi went off to boarding school. iisakki was a cool older kid so he trailed him around for a long time until they became friends. when iisakki offered the smallest pushback to his dad's ideas, jarmo went "wait fascism is bad? fuck yes. i thought it might be." and ran with it, rapidly becoming the worlds smallest antifa supersoldier. he got more and more rebellious, which didn't not get his knee broken and give him a limp for the rest of his life, but you gotta admire the spirit. his brain also got a lot worse though - his early bipolar and bpd symptoms started springing up around 14 and 16 respectively, he started drinking and smoking and overusing the meds they gave him for his leg. he still got into a lot of fights and was generally a little shit, but overall iisakki was a good influence.

he's settled down a little since, though most of the issues springing up back then were only the tip of an iceberg he spent his whole 20s slowly crashing into. he's glad to have kalevi back, though he misses going out and playing in the woods. he regrets a lot - the time spent lstening to his parents, the smoking that started off as a cool teen thing until it wasn't, most of all the lack of care he allowed himself - but he knows he was working with what he had. he makes a point to be kind to his past self.

🍇 Day or Night? Sun or Rain? Summer or Winter?

night, sun, winter

🛍️ Function or Aesthetic? Skirts or Pants? Heels or Flats?

aesthetic, pants, Big Fuckoff Platform Boots because he's short edgy

🔮 Star gazing or cloud watching? Hand-holding or snuggles? Early mornings or late nights?

he doesn't really have the patience for either, snuggles, late nights

💜 Music or Silence? Swords or Spells? Cities or Nature?

music, swords, nature

🍆 Tea or Coffee or Hot Chocolate? Sweet or Spicy? Fruits or Vegetables?

coffee, sweet, honestly neither but if he has to pick it'll be fruit

🌸 What does your OC’s voice sound like? Their laugh? Are they good at singing? Do they have an accent?

he has a loud, expressive voice and a big hearty laugh. he's SHIT at singing but he can do pretty good metal screaming. thick, thick finnish accent if he's speaking english. idk what the regional accents are like in finnish lol. he presumably has one.

🎀 Do they wear a specific accessory with a special meaning behind it? What is their usual fashion sense like? What do they wear when they want to be comfortable and what do they wear when they’re going to a fancy party? Or do they just not care?

when he first had his injury he wore little fingerless gloves to keep his hands from getting sore on his cane. these days he's used to it and doesn't really need them, but he likes the gloves anyway. he's pretty committed to the washed-out middle-aged metalhead thing he's got going on - he lives in ancient band shirts, leather, and big boots. if he's making an effort it's because kalevi made him - and usually it means he wears a slightly less ancient band shirt and slightly cleaner boots.

💗 What would your OC say is their best feature? Why? What do their friends / family / lover(s) / people they know think is their best feature and why?

i think he's quite into his own body honestly. it's sort of tangled up with his sexuality where he was maybe a little insecure about it before he figured his shit out but then once he did he was like Oh I'm An Absolute Bear And That's Sexy Of Me. kal likes his beard because he can scratch it to annoy him. tuomma's inclined to agree with him on his Fat Fucking Milkers but if asked he would probably politely and respectfully say his hands.

🌺 Does your OC have any tattoos or other body art? Does their body art have any specific meaning behind it? Do they have any scars? How did they get those scars? Any birthmarks?

he has a sleeve tattoo - a skeleton arm surrounded by the branches of an apple tree. one specific branch came before the rest of the sleeve and matches kalevi and iisakki's branches. i went into what those mean on kal's post so i won't get into it here. on his other arm he has a SHIT stick-and-poke of kosto, his childhood dog. he did it himself so it sucks. i imagine he's got a few scars but i don't know what exactly.

🌷 In what ways would your OC alter their body if they could? How would they do it using mundane means (hair dye, surgery, make-up?). What is their ideal look for themself?

i feel like he wants loads more tattoos but they're expensive and he only has so much body. he fluctuates between being insecure about his height and wishing he was taller and being Five Foot Something But My Bills All Paid On My Tippy Toes From LA To The Bay.

[dulcewrites]

AB!Elvis x black!reader with Him professing his love for her for the first time. 🥺if you have time.

The Closer I Get to You

Pairing: austin!elvis x black reader

Summary: A trip to Graceland cements Elvis’s feelings for you

Warnings: none, just sweet and fluffy

Requested: yes (thank you 🫶🏽)

A/N: ok so l wrote something and then scraped it (I actually might post it separately as a different thing). It was turning out to be long and a bit more antsy so I went back to the drawing board for something a bit softer. I hope y’all like this, and please keep sending in request

Masterlist

You’ve been staring at the outside of the house for a few minutes now. House is putting it lightly. Graceland is a mansion with sprawling acreage and a bevy of nice cars outside to match the opulence of the home. You can’t stop looking at the outside, a little mystified. 

“Y’know there’s an inside too, right?” Elvis teases as he leans against the Cadillac next to you. 

There are certain moments you get reminded that he’s a star. For example, like when you hear him on the radio at the bookkeeping shop you work at or when he calls you late at night after a show, recounting the new city he’s in. And now this giant structure in front of you that he calls home. Everyone wants a piece of him, and he’s here with you; giddy to show you a piece of his world.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so nice,” you say with a smile.

Elvis grins shyly at you and takes your hand in his. You can tell he’s proud of this place. This little visit had been weeks in the making. First wanting a time conducive for privacy to get you there, then working through busy schedules. Picking a time that was more peaceful, something Graceland rarely was these days. His dad, grandma, other family members, and friends were away, leaving just you two and his mom. When he said she’d be there, you didn’t know how to take it. Elvis clearly adores his parents, especially his mom, and to make anything less than a great first impression would be crushing to you. 

While walking up the stairs to the door, you use your free hand to fix your pin curls. Then rub your lips together, feeling the lipstick you applied while in the car. You’re nervous for obvious reasons. Being told you exist and were in his life is different from you be there in his house.

“Baby you look beautiful. Nothin’ to worry about,” he reassures you, squeezing your hand slightly. 

You nod and squeeze his hand back. He opens the door, and you’re hit with the smell of food and the sound of music. The living area that leads into the dining area is brightly lit and power blue. It was so him it hurt.

“Mama, please come greet your guest,” Elvis calls out. 

Trying to distract yourself for your nerves, you pick up a bright red pillow that catches your eyes. You’re taken aback when you turn it over and see Elvis’s face stitched into it. With a laugh and your brows raised curiously, you show it to him. He sheepishly takes it from you and throws it back to the coach.

“Oh, look at you two,” a warm, southern voice interrupts the moment. The two of you turn around to see his mom there. 

Elvis pulls you into his side with a bright smile. The introduction goes much better than you thought it would. Mrs. Presley insists you call her Gladys, and she tells you that you’re even prettier than Elvis described. The evening starts with Elvis giving you a grand tour of the whole place. Each room more opulent and over the top than the rest. You even marvel at the gorgeous kitchen and bathrooms. His bedroom is the last stop on the tour. It’s spiraling and you sit on the bed with a smile. Despite the grandness of it all, its lived in and comfortable.

After the tour, Gladys pulls you to the living area with a ton of old items of Elvis’s youth.

“Mama really?” Elvis winces at the baby clothes in her hand.

“She doesn’t mind, do ya honey?” 

You shake your head enthusiastically, fighting back a smile. His cheeks get a bit pink when she gets the photos of him on the road taken recently.

Dinner was full of laughs and warmth, and Elvis keeps his hand on your thigh throughout the whole thing. It’s all so… intimate, and you expect yourself to clam up, but the moment never comes. You basically beg Gladys to let you do the dishes in return for the hospitality. She agrees but only if Elvis helps you. 

You wash, and he dries, like a well-oiled machine. For a period, there was a comfortable silence except for the small radio in the kitchen. 

“I liked seeing you here,” Elvis breaks the silence, glancing at you slightly. “Seeing you with mama, seeing you at the dinner table, seeing you upstairs.” 

He trails off at the end before letting out a laugh and shaking his head. He wants to say something more, you can tell. He takes a deep breath before continuing, focusing hard on the pot he’s drying as if it is giving him the will to go on.

“I like you in my life. I love you in my life.” He says slowly, as if he hopes you’re getting what he’s saying. “I love you.”

He ends the sentence firmly suddenly turning to you with puppy dog eyes.

Love. That’s a new word for you two. It makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You’re so entranced by his words you don’t even realize you haven’t said anything back. You watched his panic a bit while drying your hands on a towel

“You don’t have to say it back,” he rushes out. “I just couldn’t let you leave wi-“

You interrupt him by grabbing his face and pulling him down for a kiss. He seems a little shocked before wrapping his arms around your waist. You pull away rest your forehead to his.

“I love you too,” you murmur.

And with that you turn back to your dishes. Out of your peripheral you see him staring a bit dazed. He had not planned this love confession, let alone prepared himself for you feeling the same way.

“Those dishes aren’t gonna dry themselves Mr. Presley,” you nudge him playfully. He grins and turns back to the double sink.

“Yes ma’am.” 

Yeah, you can get used to this.

[boldlyvoid]

Cowboy Like Me | forever

Summary: Aaron Hotchner ends up in Georgia when he goes into witness protection with his son. Staying in the guest house behind a bed and breakfast in a town no one has ever heard of, run by the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Warnings for this chapter: pure fluff, happy ending

word count: 900

Masterlist

2022

The tennis court was covered up, once again, with a big white tent, ready for another wedding. It was a highly anticipated wedding, one that has been put off for 2 years as the world shut down and re-opened again and again. However, being trapped in a house together for all that time really cemented if they were meant to be together or not.

These two were definitely made for each other.

Spencer Reid and Josephine Bowery were the towns new it couple since he arrived in Evermory in June of 2017. Jack introduced them to each other at the end of the year BBQ hosted on the farm, it was love at first sight. 

The curvy red-head was infatuated with him, she listened intently to all his facts, her eyes lit up when he smiled at her and she hung off his arm like a needy child after just one dance with him. And he loved it. He took her on dates all summer long: to the local coffee shop, every week he bought the same bouquet of flowers from Willow for her, they visited museums and took long walks in the fields together. They kissed in the sunflowers and rolled around in the hay as the seasons changed, picked pumpkins for their shared front porch and by Christmas he was asking her to marry him. 

That was right around the time Juliet was born. The first of the Hotchner-Y/L/N children. She was a feisty little thing now, 4 years old and thinking she was the real wedding planner. 

You see, Jo was really nice to Juliet when she came over to plan with Y/N, letting her help with the flower arrangements and taste all the cake options… so now that the wedding was actually happening, she had a clipboard and a stern face as she stood beside her mother and overlooked the set-up. 

“Mama,” she looks up at her, “when are you going to have a wedding?” 

She shrugs and places a hand on her large tummy, “your dad and I are perfectly happy together this way. Plus, I don't think we could even find a dress to fit me.” 

“If you wait for a little more then baby brother could come too?” She problem solves quickly. “I wanna plan your wedding, mama.” 

She swoops down and picks up the ever-growing toddler with a groan, “oh, sweetheart, maybe one day.” 

“Will you plan my wedding one day?” She ponders her cute little face so much like Aarons. 

She could cry, both from being pregnant and the immense amounts of sweetness that came from their little girl. “Of course, honey, and you’ll have it right here so me and daddy can set it all up to perfection for you.” 

“Good,” she smiles again. “I love it here.” 

“I love having you here,” she whispers and presses their noses together. “I waited so long for you, Jules. I love you so much.” 

She snuggles into her mom's chest, holding her back with her tiny little arms. “I love you too, mama.” 

When she sets her down again, she goes running out to her dad so she can help him put out the placemats, now that all the tables were unfolded and set up. 

She’s been here before, watching Aaron set up for a wedding that wasn’t theirs with all the care and delicacy in the world. Only this time, Jack was much older, 16 and about to be a Junior in High school. Still dating his boyfriend Jeremy, the two were basically inseparable. Jack was happier than she’s ever seen him, especially now that he was getting a little brother too. He already worshiped Juliet, she could do no wrong and he would kill anyone who looked at her the wrong way. Their little family was so perfect and complete, even her dad was in love again. 

Diana moved in when Spencer did, only she ended up staying in the guest house permanently. She found it easy to cope with her struggles on the farm, finding structure and balance and even a holistic doctor over in Hockley made her lucid a lot more often than not. She’s a lovely woman, funny and smart, she took in Y/N and Aaron's kids as if they were her grandkids, and she read books to Juliet all the time, especially Shakespeare. 

It was lovely having them join the family. 

The whole BAU was visiting the farm for the wedding too. Jack was currently busy showing Henry and Mike all around the property, JJ and Will were enjoying some alone time in the BnB, Emily was at the bar and Derek was helping Spencer with his suit. 

She met Hank and Savannah earlier, as well as Dave's new wife Crystal and her daughter. The two of them fit right into the town Gossip like they were made for Evermory, sitting beside Inez as she told them everything. 

Seeing their two lives so merged and intertwined was incredible. Like a patchwork quilt all sewn together with golden string, each story so unique and different yet they all ended up here sharing the same chapter on her farm. Making memories the way her mother always dreamed they would on this giant plot of land. 

She could feel her more than ever on days like today. It was as if she was standing over her, hand on her shoulder, watching the work happen with pride. All she ever wanted was to fill their lives with love… and filled with love it was. 

And it would be, for evermore. 

[libraford]

The short version: We had a serial thief at the flower shop. She’s retired recently and I think that due to Covid she really means it this time. 

The long version? hoooo boy, here we go.

This story, and others, are viewable on Tablo

There are rules and there are rules.

In dealing with shoplifting in retail, there are rules on how one engages with a thief. The handbook, if there were one, would consist of a single word. 

Don't. 

Don't pursue, don't interrogate, don't accuse. Let them take the merchandise, let them get away. Let them return the Cricut machine for an equivalent amount on a gift card to be exchanged once again for drugs. 

Let them. 

There is no handbook on how to handle Flower Thieves. Prior to working in a flower shop, I never thought that this was a problem. 

Life is surprising. 

 I'm sure some of you have figured that out by now. 

The Flower Thief is notorious, and she has a system. There are days when you simply know that she's going to be in. 

"Break the heads off the flowers before you throw them away," Grandpa will say. "She's going to be here tonight, I think." 

And sure enough, she would be. At 6:45, a quarter til we close- the Thief would announce her arrival. Loudly. 

"Heeeeey, baaaaaaby!" 

The very first time I encountered the Flower Thief, she came in through the back door. 

"Oh Hiiiii, Darlin'- ain't seen your face around here: you must be NEW! I'm Wren, you know- like the bird? Well, Kyle and I have an agreement that I come and work for y'all sometimes. You should take out this trash, it stinks to high heaven. Anyways, nice talkin' to ya, see ya later." 

I may only be a little bit psychic, but I've spent enough time around liars to know insincerity when I see it. Kyle, at the time, was the manager of our store and I have it on record that he's tried to throw her out of the building once or twice. 

While I was taking out the trash, her pile of purchase became so tall it towered over her. I watched Clark massively undercharge her for the sake of getting her to go away. 

She has a pattern.

She comes in during the design classes because she knows that when there's twenty people in the store, there's not enough people to watch her and make sure she's not stealing. "There's a class today," she asks as if it's not literally every Tuesday. "Don't worry I know you all wanna get out of here on time." 

The Flower Thief announces her presence in a grand way and then makes her way to the back to grab a trash bag or an empty box and then proceeds to bury any spare parts she finds in the cooler in the trash bag, hiding them under the things that she's actually buying. 

After that, she checks the garbage cans for things we might have thrown away that will last another three days and stuffs them underneath her other ill-gotten goods. 

Just when you think she's finished, she'll go through her pile of flowers and say: "You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus." And she'll go back into the cooler with it, stuff it in her purse, and walk back to the register. 

And when she's all done being sneaky, she asks one of us to come ring her out. 

This is the part that no one wants to do. Because ringing out the Flower Thief means haggling with the Flower Thief. 

"Oh baaby, you know I don't pay those prices." 

"Oh baaaby, I only pay $19 for roses." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaby, those carnations were on special." 

She'll talk you down to under $100 with a sob story: 

"Oh baaaaby, you know I'm donating this spray to the family. It's for that woman you know- you know the one. She got herself murdered a couple nights ago? Two children and she was pregnant too! Pregnant! Can you believe it? Who murders someone with child? What's the world coming to? So I need a good discount to make sure we treat this family right because they got a looooong road ahead of them." 

"Oh baaaaaaby, you know this one's for that car crash over on Cleveland Avenue? I hear he was taking care of his dying father himself, so it's such a shame for him to go first like that." 

"Oh baaaaaaaaaaaaaaby, this is for that little boy that shot himself, isn't that sad?" 

Thank you, Sister Mary Loquacious. 

And you nod because you don't want to come off as an uncaring sociopath. And while you're nodding and adjusting the price for her sad, sad consequence and mulling over how good she is for donating to these people in their time of need, she steals some greens from the trash can and sticks them in her bag. 

She hands you crisp $100 bills. You check them and she makes jokes about how she printed them this morning. They're legit. Counterfeiting isn't why she went to prison. 

What she went to prison for was drug trafficking. 

"Do you need some help," you ask, trying to be a good citizen. 

"Oh no, I got it," she insists. "I'll make it in two trips. I'm stronger than I look!" 

And don't you dare get caught looking to see what she put in the bag or she will give you one hell of a lecture. 

By the time all of this has passed, the class will be over and there will two minutes left in the work day. She's spent thirty-seven minutes in the store. Your register is unbalanced because now you don't have enough small bills to balance it and only have one $100 bill to get you through tomorrow. 

And that's why there are rules. 

On occasion, a new person will break the rules not knowing that there's rules. One such occasion was when Clair decided to be helpful. 

"You know what? I don't need this eucalyptus," Wren said. 

"Oh! I'll put it back for you," Clair suggested. And before Wren could protest, it was out of Wren's hands and nowhere near her purse. 

It was mentioned to Sage, who only worked for us one summer, that Wren had failed to pay for something and she immediately chased her out into the street. 

Wren drives very fast. 

If you cross her too many times, she'll make sure you never forget it. One day, she stomped her way in through the front door, angry. 

"You ain't treated me better than a damn THIEF," screamed the Flower Thief. 

Grandpa, who was helping Blue make a wedding bouquet at the time, departed from the desk. "Beg pardon?"

"A thief! You been treating me like a thief ever since they made you manager and I'm sick of it! I see you bringing in your henchmen, following me in the cooler, chasing me down the street. Treat me with some damn respect." 

Words were exchanged. They were not kind. We thought we'd seen the end of her. 

But she was back one week later, doing the same damn thing. 

So now there are rules. 

If you make something and there's an excess of flowers left over from the pack, you have to make something out of the leftovers or she'll pick through them and stuff them in her bag. 

If you cannot make something out of them, you must throw them out. 

If you throw them out, you must break the heads off first. 

The trash cans must be emptied every night before 5:00. 

We do not keep trash bags in plain sight. 

Break down all empty boxes, or she will use them in place of trash bags. 

Do not leave any food or drink where she can find it. 

Do not leave any half-used rolls of floral tape where she can find it. 

Do not let her know anything about you- lest she use it against you. 

If you speak of a Thief, you summon a Thief- speak quietly, and never her name or you invite trouble. 

The basic rules one makes when dealing with pests. Or fairy-folk.

There are rules and there are rules and there are rules. 

If you want to keep a pest away, you make these sorts of rules. But if you want to get rid of a pest indefinitely, you have to remove their food source. And Wren's food source was her discount. 

You start exercising your right to say 'no' to a customer in small ways. 

She saw a bunch of carnations in the trash and said: 

"Oh baby, these are still good! I'll take them off your hands for you!" 

"They've been sitting without water for hours." 

"They're still good!" 

"They were out in the sun." 

"Oh baby, I've been working with flowers for 40 years and I know that these will still be fine for a couple of days!" She picks a bunch of them out of the trash and shoves it in my face. "See, it's still stiff- it's still good!" 

"Okay," I said. And before I could stop myself: "Full price."

Her eyes just about popped out of her skull. If it were just a little bit colder, I would have been able to see steam coming out of her ears. 

We stared at each other for about a minute, waiting for the other to flinch. She took the bunch away from my face and threw them back into the trash. While she was in the cooler, I took the liberty of snapping the heads off of them and burying them further into the garbage. 

And so began a war between the flower shop and the Flower Thief.

She came in: every single night. And each night, she got me. 

Again.

"Oh no, baby! These carns are supposed to be 39 cents a stem. I can bring up the email." 

"Sure." She brings up the email. "I see that they are 39 cents but... this was for Saturday." 

"Yea, and I bought those carns on Saturday and you charged me full price!" 

"Saturday." 

"Yeah." 

"You didn't buy these on Saturday. You bought them Friday." 

"Well I didn't know that they'd be on sale, so I need them for that price because I didn't know they'd be on sale." 

"The sales are one-day only. I can't adjust a sale from Friday to reflect Saturday's sale... on Sunday." 

She made a noise that reminds me somewhat of a cement mixer. 

 And again.

"I got a bad banner last time, can you print me a new one?" She shows me the banner in question. It's white. The 't' and the 'h' in 'mother' ran together. 

"Sure." 

"Okay, I need it to say 'Beloved Mother' and I want it in pink." 

"Sure." 

I print it. I ring her up $5. 

"Oh baaaaaaby, no, that one should be free." 

"Grandpa said- banners start at $5." 

"Oh, but you sold me a bad one last time." 

"We haven't sold you a banner in three weeks. How long have y'all had that body sitting in your cooler?" 

She grumbled, and paid. 

 And again. 

"I swear you been workin' every night this week! You must be tired," she said, nerves plain in her voice. "When do you get a day off?" 

"When the work is done." 

"That ain't what I'm askin'. When's your next day off, baby?"

"I stop working when the work is done, Wren." 

She narrows her eyes, which is a fun change from them bugging out of her skull like a fruit fly. "You don't ever get any days off?" 

"When the work stops, I rest."

 And again. 

"I'll be in and out, I know y'all want to get out of here on time," she said- announcing her presence to the entire class. She piled her stuff across the register counter and Grandpa began ringing her up. 

"Oh baby..." 

"No. We're doing away with the discounts." 

There are twenty people in the workshop for the class and Grandpa doesn't want to make a scene. She pulls her into the back, and I choose to make my instructions louder to mask the sound of them yelling. 

"So you're going to take your hypericum berries and you're going to cut the stem to about ten inches-" 

"How can you do this to me?" 

"And you're going to slowly fill the vase with these berries to kind of set the shape of the arrangement." 

"After all these years and this is how you treat me?" 

"Fun fact- you might know hypericum berries as their more common name: St John's Wort! St. John's Wort has been used as a medication for depression prior to modern medicine." You see- I, too, have taken notes from the Chattering Order.

"You can't do this to me," Wren said, stamping her feet like a toddler.

"But I wouldn't recommend eating them. However, they do smell somewhat like baked brown sugar." 

Stamp, stamp, stamp. 

Wren threw herself into the cooler and began putting a bulk of her flowers back. 

"This is robbery," I heard her say to Grandpa at the register. 

"Is it now?" 

 And again. 

She came in and immediately reached for a half-empty box of oasis bricks (the green sponge material that we use to hold flowers.) She said few words to me, few at all. She talked to Carrie about how she was going out to the country for awhile, to take care of her nephew's property. She needed to stock up. And oh- don't worry about it, she knows what she's doing. She's part of The Family.

She is in no manner of speaking, a member of The Family that owns this shop. Not even a third cousin. 

I saw her beeline for a rose I'd set in the trash. I picked it up, opened my mouth, and bit the head off of it. She stood in the middle of the workshop, absolutely stunned. 

Rose petals have the vague texture of arugula, by the way. Slightly sweeter, though. Tough to swallow in one go. 

She ran back into the cooler and didn't talk to me. 

I began taking down numbers. 

27 bricks of oasis. One pack of roses. Ten calla lilies. 1/2 pack of assorted greens. 

I punched the numbers in to the register. As if sensing something was amiss, she emerged from the cooler. 

"$54? What do I have that's $54?" 

"The oasis. They're $2 each." 

"Oh no baaaaaby, they're $1." 

"I can text Grandpa and ask her." 

"... that won't be necessary. Why are you charging me $22.50 for roses? You know my prices by now!" 

"22.50 is the price for a pack of roses." 

"22.50 is everybody prices." 

"Welcome to 'everybody.'" 

"I ain't paid a price increase in 7 years!" 

"The price of milk went up, Wren. So does everything else." 

She was seeing red, I knew it. There's a vein in her forehead that pops out when she's angry and it's the same shape as the river that runs through my home town. She sized me up, as if wondering if she could take me. 

I'm 256 pounds of 4H beef, and I have a knife. Try me. 

"I'm gonna call Kyle on this." 

"Do it." A lifetime of retail has made me immune to 'I'd like to speak to the manager.' 

She grumbled and put things back. Carrie offered to watch her, I held up my hand. 

"Can you do something for me  on these carns? They're the last pack in there and they're lookin' kinda ratty." 

"9.50." 

"9.50's the regular price." 

"Regular price is $14." 

"No it ain't." 

"Is today. You're taking our last pack and we need those for funerals." 

She put them back. 

She gave me a credit card. It seemed fake, but it ran. Every time I see here, she's got a different card. Did she print this one this morning, too? At least she stopped trying to sell me on Bitcoin. As you can see, it made her incredibly wealthy. 

She gathered her things and left. "Guess I'm getting the rest of my flowers from KROGER!" 

There are things you want to say. Like... I hope they enjoy your company just as much as we do. Or: Haven't graced them with your presence in awhile, huh? But at the time, it was better just to watch her leave with her minuscule bunch of flowers. I get a choice in where I loan my voice. 

Not here. 

Is it over? Nah. She'll be back for another round. But one day she'll finally retire in the way that she's always threatened to. And then? Then it can be as over as it ever will be. 

It is shocking to come from a history of retail, where you're not allowed to even hint at the idea of a customer being wrong, where you have to override every single price change to get the scores up, where you have to just let them steal your things and pull the wool over your eyes... 

... to flat-out telling someone 'no.' 

"No." 

It's such a great word. 

There are rules and there are rules. 

And there are thieves that the rules are made for. 

And there are words like 'no.' 

And all those things are magic in very human ways. 

[tommyspeakycap]

Painted Roses

jordan henderson x reader

word count - 2k I think

jordan takes you back to the place it all began as you expand your life together.

second part to Rose Garden

4 years to the date.

The country house with the long gravel road that lead up to the huge red brick cottage. The owner passed away over a year ago and their family, to Jordan’s utter shock, weren’t interested in maintaining the beautiful home as the wedding venue it had existed as in the past. The second he heard it was up for sale, he placed an offer and had the keys in the space of two weeks.

“Jordan where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He promises, giving your hand a gentle squeeze where it sat on top of your knee. The blindfold is making you sweat more than you already were. “I can’t see anything.” You note pointedly with a roll of your eyes behind the blindfold. Jordan chuckles heartily with what you can imagine in your mind is his signature smile, all white teeth and crinkled eyes. “You’ll love it,” he says through that smile, “I promise.” His hand pats your knee again as a silence falls between you.

Gravel crunches beneath the wheels of his fancy black Mercedes as the smell of cut grass and fresh flowers enters your nose and makes you grin subconsciously in a way you barely even notice. Jordan catches sight of that out the corner of his eye and his heart grows with joy in his chest. The slow, careful turn of his car, paired with the sound of his hands sliding along the leather of the wheel alert you to his parking. He does so with ease and you hear the keys jangling as he shuts off the engine.

“Wait here,” he instructs, climbing out his side with the door thrown shut behind him. He’s round at your side of the car before you have a chance to think up a cheeky retort. He’s gentle as he always is when he helps you out of the car carefully, wrapping one arm around your waist so you don’t fall. Admittedly, it doesn’t work very well because the ground beneath is so incredibly uneven, so when he gets to that first smooth grey cement step, he opts to simply scoop you up into his arms with ease.

“Okay,” he begins, placing you down as you feel the smooth material covering your eyes loosening and slipping from your face. His hands replace it for only a moment as he presses a kiss to the side of your head from behind you. “Open.”

You do as told and tears spring in place of his hands to blur your vision.

It’s beautiful.

It was that Victorian style country home that once acted as a wedding venue, redecorated to a minimum. “Wanted it to look nice for you, but so that you can give it your touch. You know better than me.” He admits sheepishly with a pink tint to his cheeks. You beam at him tearily, hands clasped together in sheer joy. “God Jordan, you shouldn’t have!” You exclaim, tears bleeding over your lash line. You knew how expensive these types of homes were, never mind ones so big with such history to them. It hadn’t even made much of a dent for Jordan really. He had more money than either of you could ever have spent and he likes to remind you of that to ensure you know full and well his gentle spoiling of you is not a hardship for him. He actively loves to do it.

“Take it as an anniversary present.” He shrugs, trying to fight at the smile that was tugging his lips. The warmth of your hug and the tears seeping through his white shirt was all a welcome to him no matter how hot it was outside. He could not wait to come home to this house, be welcomed home by you and hopefully some littler mixtures of you and him with your eyes and smile. “Makes my present look a little rubbish now,” you jest, making him chuckle heartily.

The house needed a fair bit of work. New flooring, new carpets, your furniture from home would do just fine but you reckon Jordan will be all for new stuff for a new home. A few new coats of paint and nice clear out, but all in it was still absolutely gorgeous.

“There is one room I really wanted to show you though, if that’s okay?” He asks, keeping his eyes trained down on the floor. You furrow your brows, but nod your head. “I gotta grab something from the car first though?” You hum, detangling your hand from his, “And pee.”

He tilts his head like a curious puppy. “Again? You went right before we left?” He queries. You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Since when do you question a woman’s toilet habits at that point in the month, Henderson?” You poke with a blush and a light giggle. He chuckles with you and holds up his hands in defeat, but the second your out of eye and earshot his shoulders fall and a sigh bursts out his lips. He wouldn’t let it show to you right now his disappointment. You hadn’t been trying long, but it was enough for him to be in the longing stage. Longing to see your swollen belly, longing to feel those tiny kicks against his hands and then hold his brand new baby for the first time, spend all those nights wide awake wishing for nothing but sleep while he cradled them through to the morning. You said it would happen when it happened, but it still ached with every negative test. Hearing you say you were on your period hurt a little more than he had anticipated, but he’s still heart set on showing what he had done with the short time he was able to keep this new home a secret.

You return with your handbag and take his hand. He is instinctive in those soft movements of his thumb over the back of your hand. It’s something he always does to sooth both you and him.

“So this is the master bedroom and I know it’s not quite good yet but I thought-“

“Jordan it’s beautiful,” you cut him off, your hand drifting out of his as you step in slowly. Being cautious of dust sheets and some tools, you walk into the massive room. You’d never been in a bedroom that big and it had blown you away. The huge bed, still with plastic attacked and tags on the mattress. The en-suite bathroom is marble worktops, one of those huge bathtubs and a walk in shower updated to a beautiful mixture of modernity and it’s antique homage. Tears are found again. The window gives a perfect view out the back of the house, rolling fields worth of garden space, loosely fenced in for acres into the distance. There’s a pond on the land a little to the left, not far at all that leads off towards the beginning of the hidden Rose Garden where you met Jordan 4 years ago today. All of that owned and shared by just you and the man you love. “Bloody hell, it’s so magnificent Jordan. I literally have no words.”

He beams shyly almost, “That’s how I feel about you.” He mumbles softly, almost too quiet for you to hear, like he didn’t want you to. “What’s through here?” You call behind you as he trails after you on anxious legs. You carry on through the very short pathway attached to the master bedroom that had some extra storage space. “Well uh..I haven’t finished that so maybe we should just an-“

“Oh my god.”

Jordan rubs nervously at the back of his throat as he enters into the connecting room behind you. His eyes take you in immediately, studying your features carefully. Your hands are clasped over your mouth with slow tears sliding down over your rosy cheeks. Your eyes are afire with love and happiness. “I know it’s weird but-“

“It’s perfect, Jordan.” You throw your arms around his neck, his arms finding you immediately as he buries his head into your shoulder.

It’s the only room with a new carpet yet. It’s soft beneath your shoes, a plush cream colour to match a white wall. The window on the back wall gives the same fantastic view you have in the master room. There’s a white crib pushed against the wall furthest from you with a mobile of twinkling toys dangling above and a baby changing table a little away from the top end of the crib stocked full of pampers and baby cream. In the right corner of the room just by the window is a white wooden rocking chair next to a little book shelf with baby books that had a couple plush teddies and a photo of you and Jordan 4 years ago sitting atop it. The other side corner is decked out with two beanbag seats, a soft baby mat and a bundle of all sorts of soft toys.

“Left that wall blank ‘cause I remember that day you told me you’d always wanted to paint it like the sky.” He recounts, pointing his finger at the wall that the crib was situated next to, making your head whip towards him. He had such a fantastic memory even for the little things you said, just like that. You barely even remember it, spoken under the stars as you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. It gives you no doubt about having kids with him, the thought of him remembering your babies favourite little treats or ineffective toddler secrets makes your heart soar with pride and joy. “Look closer at that.” He turns you round so your facing that wall again, the one with the little cosy corner.

Painted on the wall intricately above it is that rose arbor your stood underneath when he first laid his eyes on you. Where he first had that dance with you, where he told you he wanted to see you again. Where you snuck into when it was late, dark and only lit by those same fairly lights so he could tell you he loved you for the first time all those years ago. The roses are painted in perfect colour, careful and precise in the way they hung around you for that first ever dance you shared together. It’s so beautiful and so lifelike you that get lost in it, reliving the moment your world came together. Every time you sit there, it’ll be like sitting under real thing when you can’t take the baby out there.

“Well this makes my present a little more fitting, then.” You sniffle, letting Jordan swipe the tears gently off your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs in a slow, loving motion. “What do you mean?” He asks, “I told you not to get me anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest as you rifle through your bag. “Okay okay, here. Open this.”

You hand over a small gift bag, one stuffed with tissue paper he has to tear through as you sit your bag down and wait, watching him with wide and watery eyes. He pulls out first the tiny little wad of fabric and places the gift bag on top of the white wooden dresser, carefully unravelling the rolled up clothes. “That’s bloody adorable.” He breathes out, trying to keep the tears he has inside his eyes to no avail. You wrap your arm around his back, rubbing his tight shoulders softly. “Look at the back.” You encourage, his eyes meet yours then look back to the tiny clothes.

HENDERSON

8

With a little picture taped carefully to the bottom that he peels off with shaky, tentative fingers. “No way!” He booms, jumping back from you in shock. He looks down at the picture, up at you, back down at the picture, then up at you again with tears slipping over his cheeks. “But you said-“

“It was a surprise!” You squeal back as he swoops forward and scoops you into his arms, spinning you around in glee. “So no food poising? And no period?” He giggled out like a schoolgirl in shock. You shake your head. “Morning sickness and just a diversion. We’re having a baby!”

“We’re having a baby!” He repeats, louder. His words bounce of the walls that can barely contain the happiness inside of them. Threatening to burst at the seams as it fills beyond belief. This room, though incomplete, is perfect. Because you are in it together. Here, together in each other’s arms sharing in joy just like you’ve both shared in pain, hurt, love, happiness, nerves and everything else along the way. Head on, together.

“And this,” Jordan holds up the little football strip with his name printed across the back, his england appointed number proudly underneath, “This is perfect. You,” he pauses, leaning forward to capture your lips in his, “Are perfect.” His hands wander down to your stomach, placed gently over where his pea sized baby currently exists, growing and feeding on the love he intends to drown them in just like he does to you, “Both of you…perfect.”

It is perfect, really. Your love is. Even when it isn’t, it is. When he’s gone too long and you can’t see him because of a pandemic; the effort is made, emotions are shared. He tells you he misses you and his ego is never too big for its space in your relationship. When the world is against him or when fate turns against you both, it’s in each other’s arms that you find solace even if space is needed first. There’s an understanding of the love you have. It’s special. The kind that only a lucky few seem to find these days, a one people can look at and spot from a mile away. It’s beautiful, it’s own space taking entity that makes you both target to significant teasing from friends and family alike. It’s perfect.

Even when you fight over what blue is better to represent the sky just because your pregnant and too hormonal to admit he’d found the right colour before you did. Even when he coats you in paint that ends in an all out paint war, thankful you both removed all the furniture before painting. Even when you sob as your body changes, with pregnant emotions skewing your mind and making you question whether he’ll ever be attracted to you again, he’ll remind you that he’s never been more attracted to you than now. Housing his child, taking the aches, the pains and the changes like a true champ while he can do nothing but rub your feet and buy you ridiculous quantities of Solero ice creams. He’ll remind you in more ways that one just how perfect you are to him. Love by it’s very nature is as messy as that paint fight. It’s up and down and all over the place all the time. But the kind of love that you and Jordan have is a special that doesn’t waver, doesn’t dull or dim or change through time.

If anything, each day he loves you more. Even if he was convinced it wasn’t possible. But then it just was. Seeing you red in the face with sweat dripping over your forehead and tears leaking from your squeezed shut eyes as your screams echo through the room. All he could do was coax and coach, trying to tell you how proud of you he was. Even when you screamed that you despised him, he laughed and told you to squeeze his hand a little harder. It hurt, but that was nothing compared to the pain that you were enduring from multiple areas of your body as that baby ripped through you to make her grand entrance to the world, kicking and screaming just like the fighter her mother was. He thought his heart might burst with the amount of love he has, surely that’s as good as it gets?

No. No, it gets better still.

Everyday it’s better. Better when he gets to watch that woman that he loves so much sing to his tiny baby daughter, rocking in that chair under the painted rose arbor as she feeds from you. The most beautiful, natural thing in the world and he is enthralled by it. Watching you giggle at her she coos up at you. Placing her down in the crib beneath the gentle jingling of the cloud themed mobile next to the pale, sky blue coloured wall, blossoms falling, trickling down through clouds from a painted blossom tree on the wall and rose petals in variations of pink and red along the bottom of the crib. Roses and rose petals just like the ones that surrounded you on the day you danced with each other in under the trees of the garden that summer night. Roses like the ones you stood under to profess your love for one another. Roses, like the ones he took a knee beside, beneath and with one in his hand to give to you as he asked for your hand. Roses like you would stand beneath with one pinned to the breast of his suit to say the vows that would tie you in law to one another and to give you his name. Roses like the ones painted on the far wall, still fresh when you shared the news of that baby girl’s existence. Roses that were such an important symbol of the love you shared, pure and beautiful, sometimes painful but always worth the fight. Those roses painted on that crib with space for just one word carved into the wood.

Rose.

Your own beautiful little Rose.

[bloomyagi]

beautiful, beloved, mine (m)

summary: you set him ablaze. he can only hope you like watching him burn for you. alternatively: this love for you is consuming him, and it all comes out in a badly vomited confession after he corners you at a gala.

pairings: shouto todoroki x f!reader

genre: pro heroes au, characters are aged up 20+

warnings: smut, dry humping, shouto comes in his pants, sub!shouto, he’s a good boi for you, he loves you very much n wants to be your baby

length: 2,447

notes: can u tell how much i love him pls -

.

.

.

“Can I be yours?”

Shouto Todoroki, ranked third pro-hero in Japan, has his strong arms braced around your head. In all your years of friendship, he has never been anything but exceedingly polite. He is well-behaved, thoughtful and sharp. He is guarded, though not intentionally, not anymore—it is reflex, a shield he has never really learned to lower. A reminder of his childhood.

You think he’s drunk. He must be, beautiful dual-coloured locks dishevelled, black button-up half-open and exposing his gorgeous collarbone. You watch, unwittingly, as a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, biceps flexing.

The dimmed lighting unfairly accosts you with his devastatingly handsome features and muscular body. And his eyes. His heterochromatic eyes are alight with something fierce and intense. They are also clear, glowing, almost, in the dark.

The two of you are somehow on the balcony, shut away from the rest of the world, the bass and the sounds of life fading in your little bubble until all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, the warmth of his breath, the heat of skin and the fluttering of your heart in your throat. The cement wall digs into your back.

No, you correct yourself. He isn’t drunk. He’s barely tipsy. He doesn’t like to drink, rarely acquiesces to Kirishima’s insistence of shots.

He doesn’t smell like alcohol. His scent has always been calming, detectable under the thin layer expensive cologne he uses—he doesn’t like perfumed smells either, only uses it on nights like these, when he’s obliged to look the part—that fresh, cool scent. Of clean sheets, laundry detergent.

Still, this is out of character. Todoroki has never once crossed a line with you, with anyone. He’s quiet, reserved, though he smiles more now, the forming dimples in the corner of his eyes a living testament to his character growth. He treats others fairly. He is not unkind, honest and straight-forward. He is many things, and with the way he’s gazing down at you now, you are suddenly reminded of Midoriya’s hushed remarks earlier.

“You can’t see it, but Todoroki-kun treats you differently. He thinks about you, what you’d like and what you like. He cares about you so he’s careful around you. He wants to cherish you. He’s cold because he uncertain. He doesn’t know what to do. This is all new to him.”

“What is?”

The number one pro-hero had looked at you strangely. “Being in love.”

Midoriya is indisputably Todoroki’s best friend. Still, his actions are baffling. Why you? Why now? No, you couldn’t see it at all.

“Todoroki, are you drunk?”

“No. Though I required a little … liquid courage, as they say,” he rasps. He’s so close. His voice, so deep and husky, has you biting your lower lip. His gaze falls immediately.

He doesn’t touch you. The way his arms flex, hands clenching and unclenching, and his stiff posture tells you he wants to. He’s visibly restraining himself. Waiting, watching. Hoping.

“You never … why me?” You say softly.

“I could not. I wanted to, so badly. I have always wanted you. I always thought it was impossible for someone like me—to find someone I would want to share my life with, given my upbringing and dysfunctional family. But then things changed, got better, and then I met you.” He takes a shaky breath.

“I found wordless comfort in your mere presence. I found I could be emboldened, empowered, changed by your words. Every day I wondered how I could be worthy of you—if I could ever be worthy of you. Then I realized it was you … it would not matter to you, so long as I was honest with who I was. That is just the kind of person you are …” He shuts his eyes. His lashes are so long, you note absently.

“I am touched by your existence … I find joy in your spirit, yearning for your embrace, for the heat of your skin pressed against mine, I crave it … these foreign desires, they elicit something dark within myself,” he continues, breathing a little ragged now.

“This need, this desperation, like fire spreading in my veins, uncontrollable and hungry … I feel restless, itching for something, someone … Now I finally understand. I feel like I want to—to devour you. It is no longer enough, seeing you as I do, being as we are, mere friends … I want more, need more. With this desire to monopolize, I fear I have become … insatiable,” he trails off, turning his face to the side in shame.

Oh. Shouto Todoroki is in love with you, you realize with a jolt. He longs for you. For your companionship, your wit, your soul and your body. Your heart.

You reach up with a trembling hand to touch his jaw, guiding him until he looked at you once more. He doesn’t resist, pliant and eager as he leans into your hold.

“Only if I can be yours in return,” you say.

He lurches forward, knees nearly giving out as he slumps in your arms. “Oh, thank god, I … I was anxious I would have ruined everything. I knew it was unlikely they would be reciprocated, but I—I had to try,” he gasps. “This desire, it was consuming me.”

“Todoroki …” You thumb his cheekbone. He sighs faintly, body curving over yours as he presses close. “Call me Shouto, please …”

“Shouto.” He makes a strangled noise.

“Again. Please. You must understand, I have longed for this for so long …” He pleads shyly.

“Shouto,” you whisper, stroking his cheek. He’s so unexpectedly adorable. So, so adorable.

“My apologies, darling. I know I’m taking liberties, but I’m weak … I’m not strong enough to resist such temptation. Not while you are here, in front of me like nights when I dared to dream… So beautiful.” He nuzzles your palm.

You flush at his term of endearment, at the rawness of his tone. He has laid himself bare, singing his truth like a Shakespeare sonnet.

“You woo me like you’re waxing poetry … does this often work with others?” You murmur. You think you’re in real danger of melting.

His eyes fly open in alarm. “No. Never. It has only ever been you. I speak only from the heart, I have never—never done this before, am I explaining myself poorly? I am often told my words could use some more tact …”

Your heart swells.

“I’m just teasing, Shouto,” you say softly, combing a hand through his locks apologetically. “Your words are beautiful, I’m touched, truly.”

He relaxes, curling closer in your embrace.

“You don’t know … how I dream of building a home with you, of sharing all my firsts with you, cooking and setting the table with you … breakfast after long nights, filling the space between us with laughter and joy. Sleeping next to you,” he slurs. And then he goes on plainly, “How I fist myself every night thinking of the swell of your hips, the curl of your lips, your sweet, enthralling scent …”

You inhale sharply. Part of you is entirely taken back by the dual-haired hero’s use of uncharacteristically vulgar descriptions. His words drip over you like a honeyed aphrodisiac. Sweet and addictive.

“May I?” He draws closer, hands releasing you to brace against the concrete behind. Your body shivers involuntarily, missing the heat of his palms immediately.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Shouto dips his head, beautiful heterochromatic eyes watching you carefully for any sign of hesitation or indication you wanted to stop. Ever the gentleman.

This is who he is, you realize. Respectful of your boundaries, honest and, with you, gentle. He eyes flutter close when his lips touch yours. They’re warm, sweet with a hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier. Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, the kiss unhurried, savouring each moment.

Then you open your mouth, tongue touching his. And Shouto falters. He groans throatily, your nose tickling at the scent of ash. Ah. He’s losing control. He jerks away quickly, right hand enclosing over his left.

“Don’t tempt me,” he rasps, blush rising.

You snag the rumpled collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “Kiss me again.”

And when you guide his hands over your hips, he grips them tightly and crushes his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Spit runs down your chins, messy and sensual.

Something hard presses against your inner thigh. You push his legs apart and shove your leg in between. He chokes, eyes rolling back.

“Ngh—!” He gasps. “More—hngg—please!”

You pull back to survey him. He chases after you, lips slick and swollen.

“Shouto. You like this?”

He pauses, sucking in a breath sharply, eyes flickering. And then—

“Yes,” he whispers, a whisp of flame flaring on his left.

Your core clenches over nothing at his needy, humiliated tone.

“I like this too,” you confess, trailing a hand over the ridges of his abdomen, fascinated by the way the muscles clench.

Shouto mewls, chest thrusting forward when you pinch his nipples experimentally through the cotton. “Ah—ughh—yes!”

“Can you come like this?” You wonder absently as you twist his perked nubs harshly. He moans brokenly, hips jerking.

“I—I d-don’t­—kno—hah,” he pants, eyes half-lidded as he struggles to focus. Pleasure clouds his senses, head fuzzy and vision hazy.

“Can you get off here, like this?” You ask softly. “I want to see you come undone.”

Shouto blinks blearily at you, nodding eagerly. “Hng—yes, wanna be good for you,” he slurs. Oh. My. If you weren’t dripping before, you certainly are now.

He stumbles a little as you push him against the wall, switching positions. He’s barely standing at this point, leaning heavily against the cement as he gazes up at you with glazed eyes. He looks utterly fucked out and utterly delectable.

You undo the remainder of his buttons, holding him back firmly when he whines, pawing at the fabric, wanting to rip it off.

“We still have to walk out of here,” you remind him, giggling. His only blinks at you blankly as if to say and? Too gone to think of the consequences.

“This view is reserved for my eyes only,” you murmur, nails scraping against his nipples. He gasps, back arcing. “Yes, yes!” He agrees mindlessly.

He grinds against your thigh desperately, the weight of his cock heavy and hot. He throbs at every touch.

“Kiss—kiss, please,” he whines, reaching for you. You oblige, internally fawning over his cuteness.

His hips move faster, chasing release as he moans and keens into your mouth.

He parts from you with a gasp and wet shlick. “Feels so good—sho good—hngg,” he babbles. His asymmetric temperatures intensify, the heat of his left searing you and the chill of the right piercing you.

“Oh—I’m—I’m c-cu—” he cries out, gripping you tightly as he fucks himself against your thigh urgently. You push your leg against him harder, nails digging into his stomach.

“Come for me Sho,” you murmur, biting his lower lip. His mouth parts in a silent wail, head tossing as his eyes roll. His body shudders, something warm seeping into the fabric of your jeans.

With a strangled groan, he sags against you, exhausted and spent. You stroke his hair soothingly, brushing back the sweaty locks and peppering chaste kisses over his face as he comes down slowly.

Faintly, you register someone calling your name.

“Oh, Midoriya. Over here.”

Shouto is too out of it, still coming down from his high, his soft moans tickling your ear

“Oh, there you are! Have you seen Todoroki-kun? I—oh!” He squeaks loudly, spinning on his heel immediately and covering his reddening face.

What a sight the two of you must be. A perfectly debauched Shouto, shirt falling over his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his glistening skin, raised lines over his bare chest that appear angrier in the darkened lighting, slumped over you, body trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

The One for All user pales when he spots the noticeable burn the size of a palm on the wall behind your head.

“Uh—neverminditwasn’timportanthahahaohsomeone’scallingmegottagobye!” Midoriya practically screams in your face before bolting from the scene in the next beat.

Shouto manages a tired chuckle as you blink in the wake of his dust.

“You’re surprisingly shameless,” you remark when you turn back to him.

His wry smile slips, letting out a weak mewl when you squeeze his cock over his slacks teasingly. He’s already chubbing up, hips rolling slowly against your touch.

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m insatiable when it comes to you, darling,” he murmurs, cheeks dusting.

“Then let’s continue,” you say, helping him stand. He valiantly tries to salvage whatever is left of his shirt, but it’s hopeless. He gives up, letting it drift apart, sculpted abdomen and chest in full view.

“Hmm. I quite like this view,” your palm rests on his stomach, smiling when he jolts at your warmth.

“My place or yours?” He breathes, pulling you flush to him.

“Yours, I think. I’ve been meaning to try out your new jacuzzi,” you rest your cheek against his chest, tracing nonsensical patterns on his pec. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and you can hear the rapid fluttering of his pulse. He’s—nervous?

“I built it for you,” he confesses, burying his face into your hair. “After you mentioned how much you wanted to try one, I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. I only know that I went out the next day to hire a contractor and expand my bathroom. I suppose part of me nurtured a hope I’d one day pluck enough courage to ask you to come over and give it a try …”

You pull away, looking up at him in disbelief. He laughs dryly at your expression.

“Yes. I know. It sounds as irrational as it felt. I still haven’t used it yet.”

“Then …,” you hesitate. And then you say shyly, “Then if you’d like … we could try it today? Together?”

“I … yes, I’d love that,” Shouto swallows thickly.

You take his hand as the two of you start to make your way back. He squeezes your hand once.

“Let’s go home,” you say softly. The corner of his heterochromatic eyes crinkle, lips curling into a gentle beam. He looks radiant, beauty amplified by his dishevelled and unkept state. He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”

[freshthoughts2020]

HOW RECENCY BIAS WILL AFFECT THE NEW KENDRICK RELEASE.

HOW RECENCY BIAS WILL AFFECT THE NEW KENDRICK RELEASE.

APRIL 18, 2022.

I. FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE…

It was a snowy day in Michigan. As expected during this time because we have 80 months of winter and 1 week of summer. Anywho, your mans was just scrolling down his time, when I see a press release posted on Elliott Wilson page. First thing I see was the “PgLang” header, I said “uh huh..” then I see a release date and an album title?!?! Oh its serious time! The one whom they call Kendrick Lamar is returning?

After so long since the Pulitzer Prize winning album DAMN. released, no one really knows what to expect from the TDE veteran. What I do know is this album is the MOST IMPORTANT RELEASE in his discography! Why? Ok here it is..

II. J. COLE’S STRONG CLAIM FOR NUMBER ONE!

Since the mid 2010s hip hop has held the trifecta of Drake, J.Cole, & Kendrick Lamar as the three headed monster of the greatest current mc,s. The number one spot has been constantly interchangeable based on the performances throughout the years from the big 3. Drizzy is always my favorite personal number one but I’d be. a lying fool if I don’t give Jermaine Cole his credit.

Now Jermaine has been running circles around people since about 2018. He’s the new school feature king, he’s been consistently releasing great albums, and he’s on fire as an executive. J. Cole took a strong lead to me when he strategically released the Dreamville compliation mixtape “D-DAY w/ DJ DRAMA” to coincide with his own festival and when he dropped that monster verse on BIA’s new single “LONDON”. Cole clearly made his claim for top position and Drizzy is always drizzy, where does that leave Kendrick?

III.AN ACTIVE KENDRICK?!?!!?

We got a preview of the innovation to come when K.Dot gave us the tractor trailer flow on Baby Keem records and we see the executive moves he making by breaking away from his home label to start his own enterprise. However we can’t act like those years of inactivity haven’t affected K.Dot in a negative way. Now a person with sense will argue that Kendrick’s quality is so top tier he doesn’t need to have the same output as his peers. That person would be right because Kendrick’s legacy is cemented and you cannot take away those classic albums but how can we honestly say he number one when Drizzy and even Cole kept their foot on the pedal, staying active and creating moments while K.Dot is chilling with his family getting his hair braided.

So how will recency bias affect K.Dot now? If Kendrick new album meet people’s expectations let alone surpass it, people are gonna undoubtedly says he’s number one and no one is messing with him! Which will be an over-exaggeration because this one album no matter how good it is can’t put him over Cole and Drake, he been too inactive!! This album must be the beginning of a run! I mean a serious run! He gotta drop fire, Baby keem gotta follow up with fire, we need new PgLang artists to debut, and shorter gaps between Kendrick release! He has to go on a tear!

Now if the album is whack….that is literally the worst thing that can happen for him. Because people are going to act like Section.80 or To Pimp A Butterfly don’t exist then they’re going to act like it was blasphemous to compare him to Cole and Drizzy in the first place. Let’s get this clear no matter how whack this album is it cannot end K.Dot’s career! People still don’t have a Good Kid Maad City in their catalog.

So that’s really it man, the album don’t release until May 13, 2022 so in the meantime prepare to see the wildest takes and even on release date prepare to see the most bs, good and bad, you ever seen. What are you expecting from this album? Do he need features? What about Production? Let me know how you feel beloved, thanks for reading!!

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