#im broke half the time so i can’t do birthday gifts!!!

[rascallyrose92]

I was at the Desert Festival and decided to go to Emily’s Outfit Stall, and she gave me a Joja uniform twice in a row, saying that it ‘matches my aura’.

I’ve been doing everything in my power to take down Joja why would i be a corporate sellout now?!?!?

[momoshin]

wrapped in lace — ryujin

you’d think coming home after long hours of running and making content would knock the two of you right out. but you were hoping it did just the opposite, you made sure the car driving you and the girls gets there first, needing to make sure everything was still in place from how you left it before starting your day (and to be able to change into what you had planned) ryujin gets home with the others as soon as you sit down to take a breath. they all know what you have planned, they’re just here for support before they smoothly make an exit.

“you guys got here fast” ryujin points it out and kisses your lips hello like she hadn’t just done that before going into the separate cars (which she complained about for half an hour). she hands you a smoothie, and you quickly notice she’s the other only member with one in her hands.

“ryujin you literally spent twenty minutes thinking of what smoothie to get your girlfriend” yuna rolls her eyes, making the other four laugh at the birthday girl who slightly blushes and shrugs.

“oooooh” lia cheers, interrupting your girlfriend’s soft, sort of questioning stare at you and causing the two of you to look at her, also catching the other three peeking in the room, yuna trying to squeeze her way in between the unnies. “actually we’re going to go eat, call us if you want anything, have funnn”

“oooooh” lia cheers, interrupting your girlfriend’s soft, sort of questioning stare at you and causing the two of you to look at her, also catching the other three peeking in the room, yuna trying to squeeze her way in between the unnies. “actually we’re going to go eat, call us if you want anything, have funnn”

and just like that, the door is closed. you can hear their steps and what yuna thought was whispers ‘that’s so romantic!!’ ‘ryujin unnie’s probably going to cry’ ‘when did y/n unnie have the time to do all of that?’ that just caused a smile to break into your lips.

“when did you do all of this?” her jaw is open so wide, she’s going to catch flies soon.

“i can’t tell you my secrets” you scoff, a warm, loving smile on your lips as you approached her and dared to wrap your arms around her waist after taking her cross body and setting it on the floor. “do you like it?”

“i love it” she pecks your lips a couple of times, and through all of them you can easily feel the smile that she displayed because of the surprise “can we open presents now?”

“yes baby” the way her voice sounded like an excited kid on christmas morning, and her eyes were so bright, her smile? it melts your heart and you find yourself feeling more love for her than you thought possible.

it’s all pure from there. her pure gasps and smiles or even giggles every times she opens a present and remembers you asking detailed yet questions vague enough for her to not have a clue of the reason behind it.

“where’s the button?” you’ve found yourselves messing around with the new film camera, your girlfriend too excited to leave it for tomorrow like she would’ve said to hide how much she wanted to play with it.

“it says here-“ you begin to read the manual of instructions, and it only takes you a few seconds in to see the blinding light of the flash. “ryujin!”

“found it” she smiles, the two of you giggling softly in the moment. “im keeping this” she smiles, looking at the developing picture of you in what she thinks is your prettiest version, “thank you baby” it's a little muffled against your lips that she keeps kissing and pecking in hopes it helps her express how grateful she is.

"i have one more gift for you" your words too are muffled against her lips, and as soon as she sits back up you look for the red bow you had placed somewhere around the room and stick it right on the top of your head "ta-da"

"oh?" she smiles, opening her arms for you to walk into. she watches you put up your finger as if telling her to wait for you, and undo the zipper of your jacket, letting her catch the red, delicate lace adorning your body. "oh" she's in utter shock, like she hasn't ever seen you like this even though it's a regular occurrence "c'mere, please"

the bow inevitably falls off your head when she pulls you to her by the waist, running her hands all over your body, drinking you in. "is this new?"

"mhm" your hand wraps around the back of her head, keeping eye contact with her as she presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy that wasn't covered by the lingerie set "got it just for today"

"well. i love it" she smiles "almost want to fuck you in it"

"who said you'd be doing the fucking?" your hands cup her face and bring it up to look at you, thumbs grazing against her lips, her pretty, pink lips that you loved so much "lay down for me?"

she trusts you enough to just go with it, and you easily move the gifts from the bed to the night stand. so she had more space in the bed and nothing broke. your hands run all over her uncovered torso by her crop top, and soon, you found your hands kneading and squeezing at her tits. hums and whispers coming out of her lips.

your legs move on their own to get you in bed, between her legs so your hands could do their thing and undo her jeans, her chuckle when you peck her stomach just like she did yours a few minutes ago rings in your ears beautifully. reminding you how lucky you are to have her, that she’s yours and you’re hers.

“i love you” you whisper against her lips when you’ve come back up, sitting on her lap with your hands on the end of her shirt to slowly remove it. “like, i’m in love with you ryujin” you stop your kisses to look at her, look for a reaction. she takes time. to control her breathing and process the words that had just come out of your mouth, her eyes are glossy and her hand runs through your hair gently.

“i’m in love with you too” she whispers after what feels like has been forever, but only has been seconds. her voice is so small and broken, she is so in love with you, it hurts her to think about it.. everything about you makes her feel in heaven.

your smile is so big though, you weren’t expecting her to not say it back, but it felt good to actually hear it. her lips find yours now, and the kiss starts so soft, slow, telling each how much you felt for the other, and its like that for some time, tongues dancing and all. but then her hands start going down to your ass, and you don’t have it in you to stay put when she moves your hips for you, her naked thighs rubbing against your clothed core in delicious ways.

“don’t take it off” she whispers as soon as she sees you sit up in her lap, and her fingers soon loop around the flimsy, tiny part covering your crotch. she thinks about putting it to the side and just watching like this, but then again something about using her strength on or for you makes her feel in control, so she does just that. tears it right off of you.

“ryujin?!” you whine. hands on her naked shoulders as you stare at your thong in her fingers.

“don’t make me gag you with it” she spits, and at the sound of her voice so deep; you whimper, specially when she runs her thumb up and down your clit, eliciting a few gasps out of you too. you try to, with all your inner strength, pull away from her hand, but instead position yourself so your legs could cross with hers. your cunts both fitting together like puzzle pieces. “fuck”

she’s been under you many times before. but the sight before you is so different from those times, she’s biting her lip, eyes half closed, her nipples perked up already, hands on your waist to control you moving, she’s groaning and grunting in such sinful ways too, making you wetter than before and easier for the two of you to move.

she’s closed her eyes when you, still riding her, stretch your arm enough to take the new camera in your hands, she doesn’t even open her eyes when you put a hand on her stomach in a more possesive way than anything, she only does so when she hears the click of the camera shooting the sight in front of it: your cunt glued to hers, your hand spread on her toned abdomen as if to tell anyone who saw the lewd image that she was yours.

she bites her lips at her own sight, you on top, the red lace that she’d yet to rip off your body hugging you so beautifully, your hair down your shoulders and back, you waiting for the polaroid to develop with your teeth digging into your bottom lip. but most importantly the sight of your pussy against hers. the noises you two made, how it felt. she feels dizzy already.

“you better not show that to anyone. specially the girls” she warns, her legs opening wider to give you more space for an advantage of getting the perfect angle between the two of you “fffuck, do that again”

“that?” she wonders if this is how you feel when she starts getting cocky. because you certainly are as you roll your hips over and over again like you had for the few last seconds. you don’t stop asking until she groans out a yes, fingers so tight around the skin of your hips that you were worried she was going to bruise you. “and i don’t know. i think jisu unnie might find it hot, don’t you?”

suddenly, you feel her breath so much closer to your lips than you remember her being, your covered nipples against her naked, hard ones, her hand fully tangled in your hair, pulling well enough to make you hiss and whimper into her lips “im not playing with you y/n” she groans “anyone else sees your pussy and it’s over for you”

“what are you gonna do?” you’re teasing her with your smile, and she hates it so much. how can you be so brave when she’s got you so vulnerable right on her cunt??

“you don’t want to find out.” her hand wraps around you to slap your ass so, so hard, you’re worried for her hand. “why are you being such a whore right now, am i not enough for you?” you’re not responding, just looking at her with your brattiest expression and hoping it pisses her off. not enough for this tight pussy?” she draws a gasp from you when she says the words ‘tight pussy’ because at that same time she’s pushed a finger into you from behind

she smiles against your lips when you muffle something against hers, not finding in you to make actual words and sentences.

“what’s that princess? i didn’t quite catch it” she smirks, kissing your lips and nose so soft as if she didn’t have a whole finger inside you at the same time

“im kidding. im sorry. im sorry” your eyes are shut closed, your clit throbbing and so is your head from all the sensations you’re experiencing right now.

“you’re so easy to handle” she chuckles. not meant to be endearing at all but degrading. “make me cum baby, fuck yourself on my fingers and make me cum. can you do that for me?” she pushes two more inside you just in time.

“yes. yes i can. yes.” you moan and shake when trying to lift yourself off her chest, and she takes the opportunity with the hand that wasn’t inside you, to free your tits out of the lace holding them away from her. you maneuver your hips to be able to sit on her fingers fully, all three of them buried to the hilt, but to be able to rub her clit with yours when you thrust back up.

“so good for me baby.” your girlfriend kisses from your jaw, to your neck, to your chest, always leaving bites soft enough to not mark any part of you. she watches you all along, loving the way small gasps, whimpers and moans all escape your lips that couldnt seem to close unlike your eyes. your eyes had been shut tight for a few minutes now, not being able to look anywhere or even at her.

the heat in your stomach starts growing, but you can’t and won’t cum without her. even if it meant holding it for however long you needed to. “are you close daddy?”

“yeah baby, almost there” ryujin kisses your sweaty cheeks and lifts her head up as much as she can to kiss your swollen lips. “you can cum, you have my permission” she brushes your hair out of your face with her free hand, pecking your lips once again as she watches your face contort in pleasure

“i w-wanna wait for y-you” you return her kisses as you can, in your vulnerable state. and she keeps grunting and moaning against your lips and even going so far as to lift her hips against yours because she just wants to see and feel you shaking on top of her so bad. so bad. “please. please.”

“go ahead princess, cum.., ff-fuck-k im c-cumming-h” her eyes roll to the back of her head, your highs are so hard that you can almost hear ringing in your ears. and the few seconds that you have over her as she still handles her orgasm, you use to kiss all over her jaw and cheeks while still rolling your hips against her.

“happy birthday baby” you whisper after a long while of the two of you looking at each other in silence and attempting to regain your breath, it causes her to giggle and cover her face with her hand at the thought of the two of you engaging in such filthy activities a few minutes ago and you being so soft and loving right after

“thank you my love, for everything” one of her hands runs her nails up and down your back as she watches you blush and smile at her. “how much time do we have left?”

“like an hour max” you whisper after looking at the alarm clock on her nightstand. “why”

“there’s one more thing i want to try”

[pr1ncessm00n]

for sale or wanted — jean kirstein x fem! reader

series masterlist

prev | next , part two

warnings: cursing, porco being toxic lol. dates are wrong once again sorry !!

[ playlist : love again - dua lipa ]

eight.

Half asleep and ready to go to bed, Y/N fell back into her bed. She picked up her phone, hoping to mindlessly scroll through some TikToks. Instead, she was met with two messages. Audibly gasping as she read Porco’s name, she dropped her phone, hitting herself in the face in the process. “Ow!”

Porco? Y/N thought incredulously. What the hell does he want?

Contemplating asking Ymir and Sasha for advice, Y/N then decided against it. This was her life, she couldn’t expect her friends to guide her though it. But God, was she such a coward when it came to Porco. It wasn’t like he was Prince Charming, but Y/N had an extreme loyalty complex. She couldn’t ever allow herself to let go of people. Porco used to berate her for that constantly.

Why are you so clingy? He would ask.

Who’s the clingy one now? Y/N thought bitterly. She decided to ignore Porco’s text until she could think of a reply that wasn’t along the lines of “No, fuck you.” She slid her thumb over to Jean’s message.

Great. Another text asking to talk. Why couldn’t people just send their question and save a girl the anxiety? Y/N scolded herself for allowing her egotistical ex to ruin her mood. Jean didn’t deserve her snappiness.

Jean sighed in relief. Thank God she replied. He didn’t know if he could handle the mortification if she didn’t.

Y/N pondered for a bit.

Y/N laughed quietly to herself. So Jean could in fact match her sense of humor. She exited out of their chat, mindlessly scrolling through social media. She actively avoided Porco’s message, not wanting to burden herself with the chore of responding to him. What could he possibly have to say? She headed to Twitter, hopefully finding something relatable to retweet. As Y/N scrolled, she saw a familiar face appear on her timeline.

Recommended for you from contacts, the header read. Below it was about 3 profiles of people in her contacts she had not followed yet. Among them, was Jean.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

Should I? She questioned. Would she be overstepping some unspoken boundary? What if she hurt her own feelings by stalking and seeing something she wouldn’t like/had no business seeing? Maybe she should just ignore it. She doubted Jean was some internet creep… but wouldn’t it be good to know if he was? Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/N decided to invade that boundary and look at his account.

He didn’t have much content from what Y/N could see. He just retweeted fancy cars and some funny memes. She spotted Connie, Sasha’s lifelong friend and Jean’s infamous roomie. She mentally hoped Jean didn’t tweet like Connie. That would be the ultimate ick.

Y/N’s thumb stopped scrolling, hovering over a tweet. Her heart beated ten times more rapidly.

well she is pretty lol, Jean’s tweet read. Tweeted just an hour after he met Y/N.

Could it be? Y/N wondered. No way. There’s no way it’s about me. I’m just jumping to conclusions. Why would he say that about me? I’m just being self absorbed.

She brushed off her inquiries, deciding to just stop stalking his account entirely. From what she already saw, there wasn’t anything suspicious or icky enough to make her want to not interact with him. And she was already paranoid, so every tweet she saw she would begin to assume it was about her as well. She was just getting her hopes up.

Rolling over on her side, Y/N placed her phone to charge and went to sleep. It was late, which was probably what was causing her mind to become fuddled.

——

“You should’ve told me Sasha’s third roomie was Y/N,” Reiner had said to Jean in the truck. “I totally blindsided her. Top ten worst encounters of my life.”

“Uh, care to enlighten me? Do you guys have beef or something?” Jean asked, perusing the radio stations.

Reiner sighed. “She’s dating- was dating- my childhood friend, Porco.”

Jean felt his stomach drop. “Oh.”

Reiner glanced at him before stopping at a red light. “I said dating. He dumped her like a week ago. It was pretty trash.”

Jean secretly felt more at peace hearing that. Poor Y/N, but.. she could probably do better than this Porco person.

“So what does that have to do with you?” Jean asked.

Reiner shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really help. She said she felt a little betrayed. Like I agreed with Porco and my friends that she’s the crazy one.”

Jean nodded. “So you were a bystander.”

Reiner sighed again, tilting his head in an I guess motion. “It’s just hard. Porco’s like my brother, and I don’t agree with how he acted… but maybe I should have spoken up sooner.”

Jean patted his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, man. That was between them.”

“Yeah. I could have at least told Porco to step it up, though.” Reiner murmured.

I’m glad you didn’t. Jean snickered to himself.

“So, you think she’s cute?” Reiner shot Jean a devilish grin. Jean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. You goin’ to Historia’s birthday?” He slyly changed the subject.

“Is it open invite?” Reiner’s eyebrows scrunched up.

Jean shrugged. “I have an invite. Maybe you can be my plus one.”

Reiner made a “Hmm” sound in response, weary at Jean’s invite. “What are you dressing as if you go?”

“I was thinking swag era Justin Bieber.” Jean replied, smiling widely.

Reiner gave him a look. “You for real?”

Jean’s smile dropped. “What?”

Reiner laughed. “I’d pay money to see how badly you embarrass yourself with that.”

“It’s a 2000’s party?” Jean was confused.

“Yeah, but everyone does like, early 2000s. Think Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake.”

Jean shot him a curious look.

“What? Pop culture is my guilty pleasure.” Reiner explained himself. “And everyone knows Britney Spears.”

Jean hummed in response. “I just think you got a thing for pop girls.” He referenced the earlier Becky G mishap.

“I’m not even gonna deny it anymore.” Reiner agreed, defeated.

——

“Guys,” Y/N said the next morning. Ymir and Sasha were at the breakfast “nook” (a corner of their miniature kitchen designated for a small table that barely fit all three of them), Sasha eating cereal and Ymir chomping on an apple while scrolling on her phone. “Porco texted me last night.”

Ymir continued scrolling, unfazed. Sasha’s eyes widened and she swallowed her food before speaking. “What? Why?” Y/N glared at Ymir.

“Thanks for your interest YMIR, but as i was telling Sasha-“

“I’m Sasha.” Sasha cut in, obviously confused.

Y/N gave Sasha a look.

“Did you say something?” Ymir said, bored. She still hadn’t looked up from her phone.

“Ymir!” Sasha scolded. “Y/N’s telling us Porco texted her!”

“Who’s Porco?” Ymir replied, monotonous.

Y/N sighed in exasperation. “Are you stalking Eren again? I already told you to stop comparing your subscribers-“

“I’m not stalking Eren!” Ymir snapped defensively. “I’m…” She mumbled the next part incoherently.

“Huh?” Sasha and Y/N asked in unison.

“I SAID,” Ymir repeated, annoyed. “I’m looking up Britney Spears outfits. Historia wanted us to go as different eras of her. But I can’t find anything that matches my style.” She grumbled.

Y/N’s heart melted. It was adorable watching Ymir struggle to find a matching costume for Historia. It was like Marilyn Manson wanting to get along with a CareBear.

“Just go as JT,” Sasha said, chewing her cereal.

“One, close your mouth, and two, Historia asked for us to go as Brittney. I can’t just show up like a dude.” Ymir visibly deflated as she scrolled through countless pictures of a younger Spear’s iconic looks.

“Why don’t you try her bandanna phase? That wasn’t so over the top, and she wore mostly jeans.” Y/N suggested as she squeezed into the corner chair.

Ymir sighed. “I don’t want to wear a skirt or some bimbo shit. That’s y’alls look.”

“How do you manage to sound endearing trying to please your girlfriend while simultaneously insulting us?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“It’s a talent.” Ymir waved her off. “What did you guys get her though?”

“A giftcard to Urban Outfitters,” Sasha replied. “I got tired of searchin’. I put $50 on it. I think that should be enough for like, a shirt and a half. She better like it, too. ‘Cus I’m broke.” Sasha pointed her spoon at Ymir accusingly.

“I got her the Taylor Swift vinyl she’s been wanting. And some pink film for her camera.” Y/N added. Ymir nodded approvingly.

“I hope she likes my gift. I don’t know if I’m moving too fast though?” For the first time since Y/N mer Ymir, Y/N hadn’t ever seen her this distraught.

“Calm down,” Y/N reassured her. “You’ve been together for years now. I don’t think you can move any slower.”

Ymir rolled her eyes, leaning back im her chair with arms crossed. “It’s a small trip to Seoul. I know she’s been dying to go. It’s not like it’s anything she hasn’t seen before with her family… but I figure it’d be different with just us.” Y/N’s heart melted.

“That’s so sweet!” Sasha exclaimed, eyes watery. “I want an Ymir!”

“Well, you can’t have me!” Ymir laughed. “It’s not a big deal. The sponsorship I managed to land gave me a decent payout.” Ymir sheepishly replied, her cheeks a faint red

Y/N nudged her. “Look at you, being modest.”

Ymir waved her hand. “Shut up. How does this look?” She turned her phone to Y/N, showing a picture of Britney Spears clad in low waist jeans, a black tank top and sure enough, a yellow bandanna.

“That’s perfect.”

Ymir smirked, smug. “Just like me.”

“Y/N!” Sasha shouted. “Go back to the Porco thing!”

“Oh, yeah. What did Oinky want?” The girls turned to face Y/N, who shrank a bit back in her seat.

“That’s a new one,” Y/N chuckled. “I thought of one last night, too,” She paued for dramatic effect. “Porker!” She gasped out, giggling, hitting the table in a slight fit of laughter. Sasha and Ymir gave Y/N a blank stare, unamused at Y/N’s mediocre roast.

“Not funny, didn’t laugh.” Sasha spat.

“If your career was stand up you’d be living in a box.” Ymir deadpanned.

“Tough crowd,” Y/N sighed, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. “But if you must know…” She purposely stalled a bit, knowing it would send an impatient, jittery Sasha over the edge and annoy Ymir even more, even if she pretended she was not interested in the relationship drama between Y/N and her disgraced ex.

“Just say it already!” Sasha begged.

“I…don’t know. I haven’t responded.” Y/N finally admitted, putting her head in her hands. “I just-“ Her words were muffled by her hands.

Ymir removed her hands from her face. “Your words, darling.” She scolded, voice oozing sarcasm.

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned. “I’m too pussy to respond. He just asked if we could talk. What could he possibly want? What if he wants the couch? It’s just too much.”

Sasha gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Just leave him on read! If he wants to talk so badly he’ll find a way to say what he needs to.”

“For once, I agree.” Ymir added.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Y/N stretched. “But it did keep me up at night wondering what he wanted.”

“Y/N, forget him! Historia’s party is soon, there’s no time to worry about ugly men!” Sasha stood up, rushing to put her bowl in the sink. “I got a lecture in a few, but you need to find your costume! We’re all going as Britney!” She said before disappearing into her room.

“Um, who’s gonna tell her we’re not all dressing as Britney?” Ymir inquired.

Y/N snorted. “Not I. I’m probably going as Suki from Fast and the Furious.”

“Niiceee,” Ymir fist pumped Y/N. “She was my sexual awakening.” Y/N choked on her muffin.

“Ymir, what’d we say about uncalled for horniness?” Y/N reprimanded. Ymir made her way to the coat rack, searching for her car keys in her leather jacket’s pocket.

“If I was gonna be chewed out for liking women I would’ve lived with my parents!” Ymir called out. “I gotta pick up Historia!”

“Will you be back?” Y/N shouted back.

“Get off my dick!” Ymir shut the door. Laughing to herself, Y/N picked up Ymir’s dish to place in the sink. She was, out of the three, the more tidier one. Ymir did the best cleaning, but she was selectively lazy.

“Bye, Y/N!” Sasha shouted before leaving in a rush. One thing Y/N had grown used to was the fairly chaotic mornings. She secretly hoped they would be like this for a long time.

Since Y/N had transferred, Ymir and Sasha had been the best roommates she could ask for. Yes, Ymir was snappy and Sasha was a bit ditzy, but it was the perfect combination and they were respectful. Y/N had transferred from Sina University purely for academic reasons, but she had not expected to fit in so well with the girls or their group of pre establish friends. She worried she would not fit in since they had already been so tight-knit, but found that wasn’t the case at all. They were open, accepting and loyal. Y/N couldn’t be happier where she was, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was grateful for how close they had all gotten in their short time together. Who knew randomly assigned rooming would provide her with friendship to last a lifetime?

Which is why every time she thought about Porco she kicked herself. How could she have let some… meathead ruin her freshmen year of college? She should have been having fun, interacting with Ymir and Sasha’s friends more, lived her own life. But no, she chose to become involved with a self absorbed fraternity guy of all people. Now she was semi-heartbroken, extremely humiliated, and about a year’s worth of time and effort short. She had allowed him to take advantage of her so much, that he felt he could contact her still after basically using her. The thought made her want to rip her hair out and scream.

Almost as if through divine intervention, her phone beeped with a notification.

What the actual hell? Y/N thought.

She froze for a second. What does she do? Respond? Ignore? Block?

After a few seconds of mental deliberation, Y/N finally decided. She was fed up with the lack of bravery she showed and decided to just end it once and for all. Typing out a response, she clicked send and decided to go to the mall for the retail therapy she was sure to need after whatever Porco said what he wanted to say. Turning the shower on, she braced herself for his response. What could Porco want? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

This better be good, Y/N thought.

taglist : @tsunderehokage @lagrimasdeglitter @snowyseungs @mukeovernetflix @bakugouswh0r3 @punicorn999 @deadlyaffairs @usernamehere91 @calumsfringe

a/n: woohoo!! long chapter. so to recap: i graduated!! i am finally free from the clutches of high school. i might do a face reveal :) bc i loved my grad dress. anywho, my fever cleared up, i have chapter 9 already completed (just need to revise + edit) and this is NOT proof read!! it’s 2 am guys i’m tired. but i hope you enjoyed this :) sorry for the weird cropping too. peace out

[justcourttee]

im not sure if youre taking asks but here goes: platonic jasonette, bc there isnt enough sibling jasonette in the world

We stan sibling Jasonette. It is literally my life as much as Daminette. Hope you like it! @sixtyeightdays

A Brother’s Love

If a year ago you had told Jason Todd that he would be smushed flat against the wall of a small coffee shop in Paris, France spying on his favorite designer’s first date, he would’ve laughed in your face. After all, nobody knew MDC’s secret identity and even if his jerk siblings found out, they wouldn't tell him anyway, just to torture him.

Yet somehow, he found himself in this exact situation, his anger rising with each passing minute that her date was late. He watched as Marinette picked up her phone for the hundredth time to check the time, check her messages, and sigh as she placed it face down once more, defeated. Part of him wanted to storm over to her table, scoop her up in the tightest hug and take her out for two scoops of ice cream from the best creamery in Paris.

But alas, if he even moved an inch, she would spot him and he’d never hear the end of him being an overprotective ass. The sound of her phone ringing caught his attention as he watched her fumble to try and answer.

“Hi! Yes, I’m at the coffee shop. - Have I been waiting long? No, no, not at all.”

Jason rolled his eyes. She was too kind for her own good. It was how she got into the Lila debacle. It was how she let her classmates walk all over her for too many years. It was why she was letting this Adrien kid treat her as a second rate now.

“The Louvre? I mean I guess I can close out here and meet you there.” There was a pause as her head dropped in disappointment.

Jason felt his blood boiling. Not only did this punk leave her waiting here for forty minutes without a signal message or call, but when he does decide to let her know he’s running late, he insists she comes to him? Jason didn’t care how well protected the model was, one way or another he deserved a black eye courtesy of Jason’s right fist.

He waited for Marinette to finish gathering her stuff. She laid a note onto the table, not bothering to ask for change, she never did, and exited the door, her face heavy. Laying a note of his own down, he raced after her, careful to keep a few hundred feet between them.

Jason felt as though he was beginning to break a sweat as he tried to keep up with her pace. As she turned down an alleyway, Jason broke into a sprint, trying not to lose her. As he turned the corner, a hand shot out toward his jacket, slamming him into the wall.

“I thought I told you my first date was off-limits.”

“Hi princess,” his voice was breathless as he tried to keep the pain from seeping in. “Just thought I’d stop in and say hi.”

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him before letting go, allowing him to readjust his jacket.

“Besides, doesn’t seem like much of a date. I haven’t seen the punk once.”

Her eyes seemed to blaze as they cut into his. Jason raised his hands in defense, but he refused to apologize. They seemed to be locked into a staredown, both standing in the alley, arms crossed, neither budging in their positions.

“He’s not a punk Jason, he just was running late on his photoshoot. They just finished up at the Louvre which is where he invited me to. We’re gonna walk the museum and try to find Andrè’s ice cream afterward.”

Her tone was so matter-of-fact, so confident that he wanted to believe her, but her eyes were broken. They seemed so tired as if she almost expected to be stood up at this point.

“Mari, I’ve been here a year now. This is the twelfth first date you and Adrien have attempted. Every month he gets your hopes up and every month something always comes up last minute. How do you know he really is at the Louvre?”

Her arms dropped as her hands curled into fists. Jason knew he hit a sensitive topic, but he couldn’t watch her break her own heart. Not again.

“He’ll be there. Now leave Jason, this doesn’t concern you.”

She turned on her heel, exiting the alleyway without another word.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jason huffed as he landed on the nearest roof with a view to the courtyard. Following on foot grew too hard as Marinette constantly kept looking back, checking to see if he was still there. Besides, she said it didn’t concern Jason but she said nothing about Red Hood.

He tapped the side of his helmet, enhancing the zoom, silently thanking Barbara a million times over. The courtyard was empty besides Marinette and a blonde boy sitting on a bench, neither looking particularly happy.

“Don’t fail me now helmet.”

Jason hesitantly reached up to tap the newest installment Barbara had insisted on; audio enhancement.

“-it’s just ridiculous Adrien! You can’t sit under her thumb forever!”

The boy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, trying to avoid direct eye contact with Marinette.

“Lila will turn my father on me Marinette, you have to understand. I really do like you and I would love to date you, but it’s a choice between you and freedom.”

For the third time that night, Jason felt his blood pressure rise from this punk kid. Before he realized what he was doing, the rush of air filled his ears as his grapple strained under the weight of him. His landing was rough as he tumbled less than ten feet from the bench, rolling to a stop right in front of the couple.

As he struggled to his feet, his eyes met Marinette’s. They were a mixture of anger and tears, fueling his rage.

���You.” His voice was menacing, all of his anger directed to the blonde sitting in front of him.

“Me?” Adrien seemed to shrink in on himself, his eyes widening as he took in the hero in front of him.

“You are a literal piece of scum. Do you understand what you’re losing here?”

“Hood, don’t-” Marinette tried to reach out, her voice begging, but he simply shrugged her off, grasping Adrien by the neck of his shirt.

“Marinette is an amazing girl. She’s absolutely brilliant, I mean have you seen her grades? They freaking fly off the charts. If you all had a GPA system, she would knock all of you out of the ballpark with no chance of recovery. Marinette is so talented. Her designs have so much potential to run an empire in the future. She already has multiple big-name clients and I know she’ll only expand from there.”

Adrien tried to object, but Jason didn’t give him the chance. His grip tightened as he lifted Adrien from the bench, his tiptoes barely scraping the courtyard stones.

“Marinette is daring, courageous, compassionate, and way too caring for her own good. None of you deserve her. Paris doesn’t deserve her.”

He felt two small hands wrap around his arm, attempting to pull him off of the boy but to no avail.

“Marinette do something! Tell your friend to stand down.”

Adrien struggled under the man’s grasp, his wild eyes begging the girl.

“You little punk, face me yourself. After tonight, you don’t have Marinette to hide behind anymore. If I even see you in a twenty-foot radius of her, you’re dead. Got it, kid?”

He dropped the blonde, watching as he stumbled backward before taking off into a sprint, never looking back.

Jason wanted to chase after him, finish teaching him a lesson, but the sound of soft sniffles from behind him required his immediate attention. His arms automatically pulled her into his chest, the sniffles muffled by his suit.

“Don’t worry Marinette, he’s never gonna hurt you again.”

She didn’t answer him as her sniffles slowly died out, her arms tightening around Jason’s waist.

“C’mon.” He slowly pulled back using his gloved hand to wipe a stray tear from her face. “Let’s go get some ice cream.” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jason accepted his cone from André, attempting to hand the man a tip, but he simply blocked Jason, shaking his hand.

“Anything for Marinette. I could feel her broken heart before she even arrived. A girl like her doesn’t deserve to be so broken.”

Jason sighed in agreement as he returned to the bench she sat on, handing her one of the cones.

“Thanks, Jason. I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, I just really wanted to believe that Adrien would come through. That our love could outweigh any obstacle this world throws at us.”

“Princess, did I ever tell you the reason I came to Paris in the first place?”

Marinette shook her head as she took a timid bite from her cone.

“My brother’s had a competition with each other to see who could discover the identity of my favorite designer, MDC. It took a couple months, but low and behold, August 16th comes around and my youngest brother handed me a wrapped folder that contained a plane ticket for Paris and your parent’s address. He said it was my birthday gift and it was scheduled to leave in the morning.”

“You came all the way to Paris, from Gotham City, to meet me?”

Jason nodded, taking a bite from his cone as well, throwing an arm over Marinette's shoulders.

“I was never expecting a small child of only seventeen years to be my all-time favorite person in the world. I mean your leather jackets can hold through a lot of trauma, trust me, Roy and I tried.”

Marinette giggled, her face slowly relaxing into one of peace.

“If Adrien can’t see how amazing you are, amazing enough for some guy to fly half-way across the world to meet you, then I’m sorry but I don’t think he really loves you.”

“Did you mean every word you said to Adrien?”

Jason looked over at the smaller girl, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Every last one.”

Marinette nodded, a small ‘cool’ barely audible escaping from her lips. They sat in silence for a few moments before Marinette spoke again.

“I’m over Adrien Agreste. For good this time.”

“Finally.” Jason pumped his fist in the air earning another giggle from her.

As they finished up their cones, Jason helped her to her feet, a sly smile crossing his face.

“You know, you graduate in a couple months. Maybe you can come back to Gotham with me, meet my other family. I’m sure they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Maybe I can meet that little brother of yours. After all, anyone who can figure out my well-guarded secret sounds like a very intelligent person.”

Jason laughed, his mind tracing back to the image of Damian with a pot stuck on his head after pissing off Dick’s former teammate Raven.

“I don’t know about intelligence, but I would say he’s extremely devoted to the people he cares for.”

Marinette saw the wheels turning in Jason’s head as she tried to form a no before he could blurt out what she thought he was thinking.

“You two would be so great together! Oh God, I sound like circus boy. Anyways, it’s settled. As your honorary brother and full-time wingman, I am setting you up with Damian Wayne.”

Jason dipped down, snatched her phone off the bench, and took off in a sprint.

“Jason! JasoN I DON’T HAVE INTERNATIONAL DATA!”

The streets filled with the sounds of their laughter as both took off into the night, a bright future lying ahead, neither looking back on the events of the night.

After all, ice cream mends most broken hearts, but nothing fixes you quite like a brother’s love.

Permanent Tag List:

@damianette-is-life @ash-amg @rebecarojas07

[nbrook29]

robbe 1️⃣8️⃣

Warning: This is smutty, proceed with caution if it’s not your jam ;)

ao3

If anybody asked Robbe, bad weather in the summer should be illegal. Because what the hell? He needs sun rays and blue sky like he needs oxygen, he wants 30+ degrees temperatures and not a single cloud above, and he always welcomes it with all the small inconveniences it brings along, like clammy skin mere minutes after showering or freckles covering his nose and arms. So when it’s August and it’s raining, sorry, pouring buckets, sue him if he turns into a whiny mess for a bit. That’s just who he is.

Or, that’s who he was. Because right now, lying on a soft cloud-like throw blanket in a not-his t-shirt and sweatpants, head a mess of wild damp curls, fuzzy socks on his feet tangled with another pair, he’s feeling pretty good.

Even though the original scenario for his birthday was supposed to be different.

It all started at 12:00 am sharp with a dorky text from Sander because of course it did.

Sander: Hey there you sexy thing

Heard you're legal now 👅 

Robbe: Omg sander 🙈 

Sander: Yes, that's what you'll be screaming today during our own little celebration 😈

 Robbe almost spat out the water he was drinking, face burning hot as he tried to assess whether anybody was paying him any attention.

 Robbe: SHSHDHSHSJSJS STOP 

Sander: I'll do that thing you like 😏👅 

Robbe: IM WITH MY PARENTS DICKHEAD 

Sander: Am I bothering you cutie? 😏 

Robbe: Yessssss 😩 my face is all red they're gonna know what's up 

Sander: I think *I* know what is up 😏🍆 

Robbe: 🤣 GO COOL OFF 

Sander: Hehe

No but for real now

Happy birthday! 🥰🥳😘❤🎂

I love you SO much ❤❤❤💯 

Robbe: Thank youuuu baby 😊😘 

Sander: Can't believe you're an adult *wipes a tear*

You'll always be my baby tho ❤ 

Robbe: Haha yes ❤❤ 

Sander: I'll be waiting for you at 4 pm 

Robbe: But where?? 

Sander: 😌 

Robbe: Sanderrr tell me 

Sander: Nope 

Goodnight 😌

 Sander absolutely loves to tease him and keep him at the edge of the seat which is why he told him the place only half an hour before their meeting, for which Robbe intended to tell him off. That is until he actually got to Park Spoor Noord and saw his boyfriend lounging on grass, blanket underneath him, surrounded by Robbe’s favorite food and wearing the most charming smile as soon as their eyes met.

And he got him a sunflower. A sunflower. How cute is that?

Needless to say, there was no telling off, Robbe didn’t exactly find time for it between kisses and laughs and Sander feeding him croques and fries and cupcakes (which Sander baked and decorated himself, swearing for dear life the small thingies made from frosting on top were not dicks, but Robbe knows him too well to believe him).

And then all hell broke loose and the storm that had been loudly talked about in the media came to Antwerp and made a puddle out of the two of them.

They looked really miserable, but somehow Robbe couldn’t care less as they were running to Sander’s house holding hands, water in their shoes, the sunflower cradled carefully underneath his shirt, huge smiles on their faces as they finally got there, tripping in their haste to get inside.

The hot shower that followed next and Sander taking the lead oh so well will definitely rank in the top 5 moments of Robbe’s life. He’s very grateful Sander’s parents are on holiday in London because he’s not sure he’d ever be able to look them in the eyes otherwise.

Afterwards, Sander made them ice coffee and handed Robbe his real gift which turned out to be a long weekend in Paris a week from now, shutting him up with a kiss when Robbe was about to protest and complain about it being too expensive.

Since the concert they were supposed to go to was canceled due to poor weather conditions, they resorted to eating cake in Sander’s bed and watching the show Robbe had been talking about for weeks now. Sander, being the thoughtful and amazing boyfriend that he is, graciously agreed to Robbe’s birthday wish and sat him down between his legs, kissed the side of his face, brought his laptop closer and pressed play, as Robbe made himself comfy in his arms, the smile that originated at midnight not slipping off even for a second.

***

Another thunder strikes the night sky and Robbe jumps involuntarily, only a little, more from shock than actual fear, but it doesn’t stop Sander from tightening his arms around him, lips grazing delicately the lobe of his ear.

“Don’t worry, Robin, I will protect you,” he whispers with a teasing note in his voice, grunting when a well-aimed elbow meets his side.

“Shut up, I’m not scared.”

Sander’s only reply is a low chuckle and a kiss on that sweet spot under Robbe’s ear that never fails to send a shiver down his spine. Without barely having to move at all considering how close they are, he tilts his head and noses along Sander’s defined jaw, leaving a peck or two on his cheek.

“Now shush, I can’t focus.” He unceremoniously turns away from Sander’s searching lips, a sly grin on his face when he hears an affronted huff.

“Oh I see how it is, you-”

“Shhhh, Wille is talking.”

Robbe loves to be a little shit sometimes, especially if he wants to get a certain reaction from his huffy other half.

“Look how cute he is.” He has to press his lips hard to keep the giggle in when Sander whines in protest.

“Stoooop, why are you being mean to me.” He now has a full-blown pout on his face. “Jerk.”

The laughter finally comes out and Robbe pauses the show, cooing at Sander’s little frowny face and brushing the runaway strands away from his forehead, leaning up to press a kiss there too.

“It’s okay, I still think you’re the cutest prince in the entire kingdom.” He runs a thumb over his jutting lower lip, kissing it once, twice, three times, until the corners of Sander’s mouth pull up.

“Whatever. Simon is cuter than the other one anyway.”

Robbe grins cheekily. “You just think that because he has curly hair like me.” Sander’s jaw drops at that.

“Wow,” he exclaims, voice faux-scandalous as he shakes his head at Robbe. “Someone’s cocky today.” 

“It’s my birthday so it’s allowed.” Winking at him obnoxiously, he turns back to the screen, hands reaching for Sander’s arms to wrap them around himself again as he settles in his embrace with a content sigh before pressing play.

Sander’s quiet behind him for a second, and then his lips touch his ear again, tongue slightly peeking out to play and lick the shell of his ear with just the tip, hot air hitting Robbe’s skin turning his insides into mush, butchering his focus again just as Sander purrs, “I think it’s hot when you’re like that.”

There’s something important happening on screen, but Robbe can’t make any sense of the subtitles because Sander’s lips continue their path down the column of his throat, stopping for a second to suck a kiss in the middle, killing any rational thought Robbe might have had. His hand rushes to Sander’s head to keep him there without his permission, eyes closing as he sighs when the kiss turns into licks and nips to the thin skin.

“Do you think he could kiss you and touch you like that?”

The question breaks the fog in Robbe’s brain for a second, and he barks a laugh at the slight possessiveness in Sander’s voice that’s poorly hidden under a joking tone. 

“Like what?” He presses, excitement bubbling in his stomach when one of Sander’s hands sneaks underneath his t-shirt, fingers grazing the skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake as they finally reach the place Robbe needs them most. 

“Like that.” He flicks his nipple with those black-polish covered nails of his that make him look so hot Robbe’s head spins. “For starters.” He keeps it up, tugging and pinching unhurriedly, with a dirty smirk growing on his face that Robbe can just feel on his collarbone, and he pulls on his hair as he arches his back a little, seeking more of those skillful fingers.

With his hooded eyes, he can see Sander closing the laptop and putting it away quickly before his other hand joins in the fun, a featherlight touch to the growing bulge in his sweatpants, nothing more than teasing for now.

When Sander’s teeth tug at his earring, Robbe lets out a frustrated whine because it’s too much and not enough at the same time, and his boyfriend reads him like a book because he pulls the t-shirt off him to gain full access, mouth latching on his neglected nipple just as his hand dives inside his pants. It doesn’t grant him any relief though, bypassing his dick completely and traveling lower, caressing the soft skin, one finger running back and forth without reaching any further, and Robbe grabs Sander’s thigh in desperation.

“Sander...”

“You didn’t answer me,” Sander whispers in a sweet sweet voice.

“Whaa?” It takes a second for Robbe to understand what he’s asking and he would laugh if his body wasn’t on fire, Sander playing him like a violin.

Also, this playful possessiveness is getting to him, whether he likes it or not.

He does though. Like it.

Oh fuck, he likes it so much.

“Tell me, baby,” Sander breathes into his mouth as he reaches for something Robbe doesn’t see, and he can hear in his voice how it affects him too, can feel him against his lower back, rubbing himself off with minuscule moves, clearly struggling to hold back. 

“You, just you-, fuuuuck,” Robbe’s cut off when two lubed fingers press inside him at the confession, back arching slightly, the feeling so intense he keens and searches blindly for Sander’s lips. Thankfully, Sander doesn’t waste any time and plunges his tongue inside his mouth, swallowing the little whines that escape them with each twist of his fingers.

The rocking behind him gets faster and this is not how Robbe wants this to end so he breaks the kiss, ignoring Sander’s protests as he pulls away from him, only to pull his pants off completely, green eyes following his every move like he’s ready to pounce, and the need inside Robbe’s stomach only grows. He tugs impatiently at Sander’s sweatpants, biting his lip when his hard cock slaps his abdomen, the smirk dancing on Sander’s lips at his reaction liquefying his insides and he crawls closer to him, needing his touch to ground him. 

“You’re still good to go?” He loves how even when it’s hot and heavy Sander still remembers to check in with him.

“Uh-huh,” is the only thing he can come up with now, especially when Sander’s hand settles on his hip bringing them so close there’s no space left between them, guiding his movements just like Robbe likes. He kisses his glistening neck, licking the sweat of his body as Robbe reaches behind to position his slick cock at his entrance, forehead resting against Sander’s as he sinks down fast.

He gasps at the feeling of fullness because it’s always a lot, but Sander’s hands are always there, brushing his sides in a comforting motion, even when his own body is probably screaming at him to move.

“Happy birthday to me,” Robbe lets out a shaky chuckle that ends up in a gasp when Sander laughs too and involuntarily moves inside him. He’s quick to lick into his lips and distract him from the momentary discomfort, and once he’s done with him, the overwhelming need is back double force. 

Sander notices right away, guiding Robbe’s hips to keep grinding for a while before planting his feet on the bed and holding them in place giving several hard jabs that make Robbe hide his face in his neck, cries leaving his mouth with each thrust.

“Like that?”

Robbe just nods helplessly, mouth leaving a wet trail on his skin, but Sander doesn’t seem to mind because he continues his pace, completely taking over once Robbe’s thighs give out and turning him into a mess.

“You’re so hot like this, fuck.” The strain in Sander’s voice tells him he’s getting close so he goes back to bouncing, meeting him in the middle, and it only takes a minute for things to become too much, Sander’s uncoordinated jerks when he’s coming triggering Robbe’s orgasm too.

They stay like that, cooling off while kissing lazily, tongues sliding against each other, but without a rush for now.

Sander pulls back first, their lips smacking when they disconnect. "I'm sorry today didn't work out." Scrunching up his face, he reaches to comb through Robbe's hair consolingly. He leans into the touch before cuddling even closer, seeking warmth when the cold air makes goosebumps appear on his heated skin.

"But I loved today, really. We can go to a concert another time." He kisses the underside of his jaw, sighing dreamily. "And I can't wait for Paris with you."

[multiplefandomsblog]

your roommate hcs are so cute, can i request for naib, demi, tracy, andrew, kurt, patricia, and victor?

:0 holy crap yes! I’m so glad you enjoyed the roommate hcs!! Me and the other mods hope you enjoy these! Thank you for requesting :))

(i added melly because why not? lmao hope you don’t mind.)

Part 1!

Naib Subedar

This man deadass didn’t know you were living with him

Even when people told him about it, he wasn’t rlly paying attention and didn’t rlly care

Your stuff in his room? He thought it was his or someone just broke into his room and left it there

When he saw you on the toilet however, he just freaked out.

“Why the hell are you shitting in my room!?” “Your room? I’ve been living here for 2 months!”

Once he found out you lived with him, he made sure you knew what was his and what was yours

also, since he’s very protective of his things-- you being one of them-- he would totally get jealous if he caught you tallking to someone that wasn’t him.

he would probably give you the silent treatment and act like a pissy baby

He hates it when you touch his stuff

especially his photos, the photos were special to him because they were of him and his army friends.

You’d sometimes catch him looking at the photos with a longing in his eyes, it was highkey sad.

having you live with him meant lots and lots of training

he made sure you were always prepared for matches and that you don’t get downed early

when you got downed early however, He would scold you but he would still rescue you anyways because he’s soft

“You’re such an idiot, you’d better do better next time! Or else I’ll kick your ass.” 

one time he got cocky while kiting because you were watching him

he forgot to turn on his elbow pads and face palmed into the wall.

“...You saw nothing.” He turned around, a bit woozy from hitting his head on a wall. He flipped the hunter off before stumbling wooshing away

When you first get to know naib, he’d probably come off as intimidating and menacing

but once you get to know him--the real him--, you start to understand that even though he may be tough on you, its because he wants you to be the best

he has good intentions

During matches he’d let you handle yourself and made sure you didn’t rely on him too much

One time you needed to shower but you ran out of your shampoo so you used his.

When he questioned you, you simply responded “What? You don’t need it anyways, you’re bald!”

He didn’t rescue you the next round.

should’ve seen that coming

though he forgives you when you braid his luscious long existent hair for him

Kurt Frank

The amount of times you almost stepped on this man is astronomical.

he would constantly be in his tiny form because he would lose a lot of his things

his tiny form helped him find his things easily

Though when you first moved in with him, you had no idea what his ability was

so when you first saw a tiny version of your roommate you thought he was just a weird doll

until you heard him say a tiny, “Hey can you move your ginORMOUS foot? You’re stepping on my book.”

You fucking screeched and took off your shoe to try and kill him

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

After he explained to you about his ability you calmed down a bit and spared this tiny man but only this time!

Frank loves books, he probably filled your shared rooms with stacks on stacks of books

You’d often see him tiny, waving at you while you’re decoding

Once you overhead Kurt arguing with First Officer over who was the rightful owner of some sort of treasure map

They fought for days,

kurt would constantly complain about it to you

turns out it was just a game on the back of a Cereal box.

sorry this is short like kurt

Tracy Reznik

Would be a little awkward at first, but the awkwardness slowly fades away when you both make bad jokes

she gives me childhood best friend vibes

Has her doll sitting in the corner of your shared room room, it’s lifeless eyes scare the living shit out of you in the dark you try not to make eye contact, afraid it’ll curse you or smth

if she was mad at you she would move the bot in a way that looked like it was flipping you off you off in your direction before you went to bed.

Always making little robot things that are super fun to play with

Loves sharing her things. Has no problem with it

you wanna wear her clothes? sure

you want to wear her underwear? evEN BETTER-

Pulling all nighters, trying to get her machines to work like how she wanted it to work.

Would live off of kraft Mac n cheese and junk food in the modern day

Pretty hyper, chugs pink monster energy drinks while pulling all nighters, also, in the modern day

would probably be a bruh girl

Her room is a mess, covered with blueprints and scrap metal

her room is practically a safety hazard

Sometimes she dresses her doll up a bit, putting wigs or her old clothes on it (which scares you half to death)

Once she made her doll dress up like her

and you almost went up to it to ask what it wanted for dinner.

Has a photo of her and her dad

You never wanted to bring it up, worried it might make her upset :(

Sometimes she’d feel really guilty about being downed in the first 30 seconds

please comfort her, she feels super bad

She always relies on you to rescue her

She gets really happy and thankful when you body block for her but she still gets a bit concerned when you do it randomly

“i wasn’t even kiting-” “Protecc the mecc.”

Demi Bourbon

Always out at the bar

Smells like alcohol constantly

tipsy 24/7

she’s never 100% sober

You have to hold her hair out of her face when she comes back to your shared room to hurl

Likes bringing back hard vodka or weird flavoured alcohols back for you guys to get wasted try together

Room is bit cluttered, but she doesn’t have much in her room since she’s always out in bars or matches

Usually latches onto you like a parasite when she’s drunk.

it gets a bit awkward when her face is a bit close to yours,

“Are we about to kiss right now-? BLeurghgrhgherrgh.”“...*audible sigh*”

You’d go to her expecting her to heal you like a normal person but no

instead she shoves dovlin down your throat

She likes to do your makeup, and always adds a matching beauty mark

unless you don’t wear makeup, then she’d ask you to do hers 

always loves how she looks afterwards

more than sometimes demi would get into bar fights, 

so you know she’s about to throw hands when she starts takes off her earrings-

10/10 would fight for you <3

She’s gives me cool wine aunt vibes

Probably a lesbian too (check out our Demi smut fic ;))

Or bi, idk

Just straightn’t

She’s really good at hyping you up, especially when you’re taking shots

“CHUG CHUG CHUG CHUG-”

Andrew Kreiss

Would be very shy at first, opens up a little when you get to know him

Totally a night owl, can’t sleep at night from all the guilt and “what if’”s

if you see this baby awake at night, hug him, he really needs it

You’ve never seen the other side of his face

How does he see with hair in his eyes?

He’s albino, which is super dope

Sometime you fear he’s thinking about burying you

You always see him thwacking Luca with his shovel

Barely talks

Room is moderate

He doesn’t want you to find out too much about him

He may seem bland, but he loves sweet food

You’d bake him cookies and other sweets

He’d act as if he’s not embarrassed and brush it off

“Are you blushing?”“No, I-I’m sunburnt.” “On your face?” “....I stare into the hot red sun sometimes because it eases me.”

to keep his lie going, every time he catches you staring at him he would fry his eye balls by staring into the sun until you left

partially the reason why he can’t see well

When he’s not looking, you stare at him while he’s eating the stuff you made because he looks so happy :’)

One time you found him down in the dumps so you made him a cup of coffee, and when you handed it to him you said-

“Depresso espresso?”

*sniff* ”..are you oka-” “IM NOT CRYING, YOU ARE”

he actually cried

it was such a nice gesture(?), that he started ugly crying

You’d ask him if he wanted hugs during matches when you see him get stressed

He’d be flushed and kinda confused

hug... him? why tho lmao

he’d definitely agree tho, to be fair, with some hesitation 

if y’all ever cuddled in bed, i feel like he’d be a little spoon

poor boy needs the comfort, he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to be little spoon tho

he just wants to be close to you

Victor Grantz

You love playing with his dog, Wick

Super nice and polite, but a little guarded

The type to be too afraid to call people out when they do something wrong but would totally trash them in his head

You write him little letters everyday and leave them on his bed to make him happy :))

He’d a be a little spoon

Wick would always join you guys while cuddling

Kisses would be soft and gentle

Usually sends you the first letter in matches

Loves to cuddle

He bb 🥰

You always get him a birthday present AND a Christmas present

You also get a gift for Wick

He loves giving you surprise hugs

Likes to read with you while cuddling

Literally a cinnamon roll

Once he was eating a cinnamon roll

And you whispered

“C a n n i b a l i s m .”

He was very confused

and kind of scared- were you going to eat him?

Patricia Dorval

Room always smells like herbs

She could literally smoke weed and you’d think it’s some magical healing herb

it magically makes you feel better

Always there to stun the hunter when you’re ballooned

The mature one

Her room is organized, with boxes labeling what herbs and magic stuff that are in them

You were cooking dinner for the day and you accidentally used one of her fancy herbs in your soup

She didn’t realize until she tried the soup

She wasn’t mad just disappointed

She lectured you on how you shouldn’t touch her stuff or use it for cooking

Gotta admit tho, the soup was pretty good

she acts like the mom everyone wishes they had

totally the type to be like, “dude we should think this through.” before doing something risky

and then five seconds later, “cowABUNGA MY DUDES”

one time she caught kreacher leaving the mens washroom without washing his hands

seeing as she was the mother of this manor, she had to protect her children from diseases

so she yeeted her monkey skull at kreachers head, cleanly knocking him out

and everybody cheered.

Melly Plinius

When you heard melly was going to be your roomie, you couldn’t have been more excited.

you finally had a victim for the many insect pick up lines!

So you decided to make some good first impressions by waiting for her in your room.

so when she arrived to your room and greeted you, you happily greeted her back, and slipped in the pick up line.

“Hello, my name is Melly. I believe I will be your ro-?”“Yeah nice to meet you too, say, what do bees make?”

She kinda thought you were a bit rude so much for first impressions

“...Erm, honey?” she replied hesitantly

“YES DEAR?” 

... okay maybe you weren’t thaaaat bad.

after that she kind of developed a teensy crush on you 

so it was hard living with you because of her crush, since she was constantly flustered 

you loved her reactions, she constantly got red.

it was funny watching her try to keep her cool and fail.

[kaaytea]

Im the anon who requested the Koushuu x manager/Kazuya's sister reader

Since im still completely in love with the dinner headcanons, I was wondering since it its Koushuu's bday, if i could make another request?^^

About how manager/kazuya's sister would surprise him? Maybe she finally convinces Kazuya to let her spend some time with Kou in the dorm room and they have this really special, fluffy moment cause he deserves some love on his bday🥺🥺

I’m honestly surprised at how quickly I wrote this (see what happens when you guys inspire me😤) so hopefully it sounds consistent. As a fellow Koushuu lover I had sO much fun writing this. Technically bc Wolfy's birthday is in the winter, Miyuki wouldn't share a dorm with him anymore but for the sake of this oneshot let's pretend third years are allowed to stay on the team 🤭 I hope you like it anon! 💖

Reason

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

"Please Nii-chan!"

Kazuya's face scrunched in displeasure as he twirled the bat in his hand.

"How many times do I have to say no?" He flatly stated. Kazuya kicked his foot against the crate you were sitting on, his way of trying to end the discussion and get you to continue tossing balls for him.

You let out a deep sigh before picking up another baseball, briefly letting your fingers brush over the worn stitching and scratched leather then lightly tossing it up where Kazuya cleanly hit the ball into the net. You sat there stewing in your thoughts as you continued to half-heartedly toss the balls up, putting in only just enough effort to get the ball up for your brother to hit. You didn't flinch at the sharp clang of the bat, once upon a time you might have, but at that moment you were too upset to even give it a second thought.

"Ok, but what if-"

"(Y/n)," Kazuya cut you off with a stern look, his tone was frighteningly reminiscent of the one your father used to scold you. The simple utter of your name immediately sent chills up your arms as you fought the urge to cower as you did when you were a child. "I said no, I'm not discussing this with you anymore."

You shot up from the crate, gripping the ball in your hand tightly as you glared up at your brother. You weren't going to let him play the older brother card -not this time! You would keep pushing for this until he broke down.

"But it's not fair! You hang out with your friends all the time! Why can't I?!"

"Because Dad told me to look after you, and that includes keeping you from mischievous boys"

Your face screwed up in a sour expression, "If you wanted to keep me from boys why in the world did you let me become a manager for a BOYS baseball team?"

Kazuya stared down at you, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words to respond to you.

"That's.....that's actually a good question. Any chance you'd consider resigning?"

"NII-CHAN!"

The boy broke out into a fit of laughter leaning his weight onto the bat to keep himself upright as he gasped out phrases like: "your face!" and "You actually thought I was serious!"

You huffed at your brother’s childish behavior and slumped back onto the crate, leaning your head on your palm as you spun the baseball around In your other hand. You were completely frustrated with Kazuya, he was treating this like a joke, and somewhere deep in your heart you were a bit hurt by his lack of faith in, not only you but Okumura as well.

Kazuya's laughter started to die down as he straightened up and got back into his batting stance. Only this time you didn't toss him a ball to hit, he watched as you dejectedly dropped the ball in your hand back into the crate.

"Do you really not trust me?"

You heard him sigh through his nose, followed by the sound of another crate being dragged over so he could sit in front of you. He kicked your foot gently, an unspoken way of him telling you to look at him while he talked.

"Look, it's not that I don't trust you, you're very smart and have always been careful with who you make friends with," he offered you a small smile making you fight the urge to smile back, "It's more the fact that you asked to be alone in a dorm room with Okumura. That boy confuses the hell out of me, I never know what he's thinking so it's difficult for me to give you permission to leave you unsupervised with him."

You snorted at what he said. Your brother made Koushuu sound like a mysterious delinquent when in reality he was anything but.

"Nii-chan, Kou can't look me in the eyes longer than 5 minutes. You don't have to worry about him doing anything bad."

"Kou?!" He gasped out. The catcher brought a hand to his forehead dramatically, "You're on a first-name basis with him already! What do I do?! You're being corrupted!"

You groaned, rubbing the heels of your hands into your eyes trying to distract yourself from the unavoidable headache that would surely appear in the next few minutes.

Kazuya stood up from the crate and pushed it to the side with his foot.

"Two hours"

"What?"

"I'm giving you two hours with him -but that's it!"

A grin spread across your face and you jumped up trapping Kazuya in a tight hug. One of his hands ruffled your hair as you babbled out thank yous.

"Yeah, yeah whatever. Now get off, I wanna get through the rest of this crate, and then I'll walk you back to your dorm."

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

The day was finally here! Your brother had graciously granted you two whole hours to hang out with Kou in his dorm! Safe to say you were a little more than excited as your dorm mates teased you about seeming extra lively that morning. You simply brushed it off as having gotten a good night’s rest, but the heat radiating off your cheeks contradicted your efforts.

You checked the gift bag hanging loosely from your wrist for the thousandth time as you approached the familiar door. After confirming that his gift was still safely stowed away, you gently knocked and impatiently bounced on the balls of your feet while waiting to be let in.

It didn't take long for the door to swing open and reveal the familiar eyes that always shone with warmth, a juxtaposition to their icy color when you were around. It took you countless hours and silly conversations to melt Okumura's frosty exterior, leaving something reminiscent of a loyal pup.

"Hi," he softly said, already moving to the side to let you into the dorm. When the door closed you threw yourself at Okumura, wrapping your arms around the boy’s neck and pulling him into a hug. The action startled him slightly, his body stiffening up from surprise before he cautiously wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Happy birthday, Kou!" You chirped, beaming up at the blonde, whose cheeks were quickly tinting a soft pink.

"T-thanks," he sputtered as he untangled himself from you. Before Okumura could get a chance to process and compose himself you were already pushing his gift into his hands while chanting "open it open it!"

He sat down on the edge of his bed —with you doing the same, positively vibrating with excitement— and gently pulled out a little bundle of blue tissue paper neatly folded over the gift. Okumura carefully unwrapped the object revealing a new pair of batting gloves.

He turned the gloves over in his hands inspecting them. A mixture of white and deep blue detailing produced a very clean look to the gloves. The thicker material around palms and the very obvious brand name instantly made him realize you probably spent a good amount of money to get these.

"Do you like them?" He turned to look at how excited you seemed. The sparkle in your eyes made his heart flutter, but he couldn't shake the slight guilt that ate at him. "Takuma helped me a bit with finding a style similar to your old pair -but, I noticed you rub at your palms after batting so I got you gloves with extra padding around the base of your hands!"

Okumura was a bit surprised at how observant you were. It's true his old gloves, a pair he's had since his second year in junior high, had started to wear down. It always amazed him how you could pick up on small cues in the sport. Although to be fair, you were a Miyuki and had basically been trained by your older brother in everything baseball-related since you could walk.

"They're really nice," he slipped one of the gloves on, clenching his hand a few times to get a feel for them, "you didn't have to spend so much on me though."

You rolled your eyes and bumped your shoulder against his.

"I knew you'd say that...Think of it this way, these will probably last you the rest of your time at Seidou, so technically they were a valid investment on my part." You sent him a gentle smile which he returned before taking off the glove and moving to put them in his practice bag.

While Okumura was occupied your attention was stolen by the laptop sitting open on his bed.

"You weren't doing school work, right? I'm not interrupting or anything?"

The boy looked back at you and shook his head, his blonde hair bounced slightly at the movement. He walked back over to the bed returning to his spot next to you. In one quick movement, he dragged the laptop over to the both of you and unplugged the headphones he had in. Immediately your senses were filled with the voices of announcers and the crack! of a wooden bat.

"The Hanshin Tigers?," You looked up at him where he confirmed your guess with a short nod, his eyes not leaving the screen as he watched the team’s left fielder catch a pop-up, "I didn't know you were a fan."

"I wouldn't really consider myself one," he softly said, "Taku made me watch all their games with him when we were kids, and the habit sort of stuck."

You smiled at the thought of a younger Koushuu being forced to watch games with his enthusiastic friend. You wished you were there at that time to see a younger version of your two friends, Takuma most definitely shaking Koushuu’s shoulders excitedly at any play that seemed remotely difficult. 

It was obvious that Okumura was still invested in the game, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't interested in seeing how it was gonna play out, so the both of you found yourselves sitting up in his bed.

You quickly lost track of time as you both watched the game, pointing out plays and betting on what would happen. Although, the longer you sat the more sore your arm was becoming. Okumura didn't have the largest build compared to other players on the team, but his shoulders were still significantly broader than your own. Because of that you had bent you right arm and shoulder in an awkward position to watched the game. You started to fidget around trying to find a more comfortable way to sit. Koushuu was about to offer to set the laptop up on a desk instead, but his thoughts were cut off when he let out an involuntary squeak as you picked up his left arm and draped it across your shoulders.

"Is this ok?"

He could only stiffly nod as he felt his heart rate pick up and heat spreading across his cheeks. The heat spread to the tips of his ears as he felt you snuggle closer into his side and rest your head on his chest.

As awkward as he felt in the moment, Okumura had to admit that having you tucked under his arm was a nice feeling. He enjoyed being able to connect with you, somewhere deep in his heart he hoped this moment was what would push the both of you to become a little more than just friends. Slowly Okumura relaxed into the feeling, pulling you closer into him and gingerly leaning his head on yours.

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

"Koushuu?" You questioned as you both watched the ending ceremony to the game being displayed. He responded with a hum, dropping his hand to play with the ends of your hair.

"Would you play professionally if you were given the chance?"

He sighed, twisting a lock of your hair around his finger as he pondered your question. He was quite familiar with this topic, his family had been asking him that very question for the past few years and he always had the same response.

"If I found a reason to."

He gazed down at you, watching your eyes shift around his face as you studied his expression.

"I've always just followed Kazuya from team to team, managing and learning so I wouldn't be left behind," your eyes flicked to his lips briefly before locking back on to his crystalline hues, "But he leaves in a few months....I've been trying to find a new path to follow."

A greedy voice from the depths of Okumura's mind whispered 'me'. If he were to be honest he already found his reason to continue perusing baseball, and that reason was you.

In only a short time span you had somehow given a new meaning to the game, your passion and joy for the sport had spread into his heart and, as selfish as it sounded, he hoped that you'd join his side and face the sport together as partners once your time at Seidou came to an end.

Neither of you had noticed how you were slowly leaning closer and closer to each other, a magnetized energy pulling you together. With your noses just barely touching, you cupped his jaw and started to tilt your head up.

"YOUR TWO HOURS ARE UP (Y/N)! ITS TIME FOR YOU TO LEAVE NOW!~"

The magnetic feeling vanished the instant the door slammed open and Kazuya practically sang for you to leave. Luckily, Okumura had quick reflexes and was able to put a decent amount of space between the two of you the moment Kazuya's voice echoed around the room.

"I'll walk you back to your dorm," he said softly, avoiding looking at his captain as you both shuffled out the door.

The walk to your dorm was silent. There was nothing to say as you were both too embarrassed to mention what had almost happened.

Okumura was somehow even more aggravated by Miyuki, the both of you were so close to finally admitting and giving in to the chemistry that had been slowly and steadily building since summer break. All of that progress was ruined in a matter of seconds by the nuisance of a captain.

You stopped in front of your dorm door, quickly looking down both halls only to find the area vacant of any other girls.

"Koushuu," you tapped his shoulder making him turn his attention from the floor to you. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you reached up on your tiptoes, your lips a hairs width away from his.

"Happy Birthday," you whispered before pressing your lips together.

Okumura gently returned the kiss, his hands hovering near you —unsure of what to do with them— until you moved his right hand to cup your cheek. Instinctively he tilted your head up slightly.

You both pulled away with batted breath and burning faces. In those few seconds following, your actions caught up with you. Your body burned in embarrassment as you stuttered out a 'bye' and slipped into your dorm.

Koushuu's fingers drifted up to his mouth as he walked back to the baseball team's dorms, still slightly in shock at the situation.

Hopefully, that first kiss showed you your new path just as it had confirmed his.

[horrorstreet]

Soulmates Surprise

Request: BRAHMS ,,, i need ,., stinky wall boy thirst or ill combust please im begging you

Request sent in by: Anon

Summary: In a world where soulmates injuries appear on the others skin, you feel the pain of Brahms burn at a young age and live your life the best you can. When you get a nanny job at the Heelshire mansion, things take an unexpected turn and Brahms gets the biggest surprise of his life.

Brahms x reader

Warnings: Angst, burns, scars, blood, bullying.

Quick Note!: I had this sitting here for the longest time and didn’t feel great about it but I tried to make it better. So so so so so sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoy!

Almost everyone is born with a soulmate. Some are born without that special connection to someone their souls are tied to. While most would say that it was a curse to not find the person who would bring you happiness, some would call it a blessing. It happened not too long ago that people began to receive soulmates and no one knew where this strange change was coming from. Scientists still scramble for a reason for what caused the strange connection that tethers two people together and it has yet to be discovered, remaining a mystery to all. In this world, when one is connected with a soulmate, any injury that their partner receives will appear on their soulmate's body and the pain carries along with it and there is no finding to prove a way to prevent this. On the bright side, when one finds their soulmate, all of those injuries and the pain that comes along with it disappear. Almost as if time erases the marks it has made on that person leaving them spotless.

You were born in perfect health, a happy baby, and your parents thought you were just precious. All was well and your parents were convinced you would live a happy and safe life up until your 8th birthday. You had been enjoying our 8th birthday, happy to be growing up and getting presents and eating cake when it took a turn for the worst. Little did you know that it would be the last day of your “normal” life. It wasn't long after you turned 8 that something felt strange to you. You were playing in your room with all of your new gifts and toys when you suddenly felt suffocated. The air you inhaled felt  thick and you began to cough. You had dropped everything you were holding to the floor, bringing your hands up to your neck and started coughing harder and harder trying to breath in the perfectly clean air around you. You parents ran into your room hearing your struggle and tried patting you on the back, not aware of what was going on. Your coughing started to mix with horrifying screams as you felt a serious burning cover your neck. It was the worst pain you had experienced so far in your life and the day your parents feared had finally come. Your hands desperately clawed at your own face, peeling off the skin which was seemingly melting away around your right eye while your parents tried to stop you from doing any further damage but it was too far gone to save any skin now. 

After the first wave of pain hit you, your parents rushed you to the hospital as fast as they could, not caring for anything else going on around them. It was common for a hospital to be full, soulmate injuries happening all the time. It was actually the most common place to meet your other half but this was not your case at all and wouldn't be for a very long time. Doctors and nurses rushed you into the emergency room, alerting the workers of what had happened to you and successfully catching the attention of everyone around you including waiting patients. When others around you had seen your melted face, many vomited right then and there while others shied away from the sight, close to adding to the mess of puke already on the floor. The nurses' faces went pale as they looked over your injury and you began screaming again, feeling a horrible pressure press up against your burn. Your soulmate must be trying to fix their own burn on their own because the pressure felt a lot like a small hand pressed up against the side of your face, making the burning sensation even worse. The nurses' eyes dripped with tears from the sight of the terribly injured child before them but quickly collected themselves like they were taught to and knew that they had to get themselves under control for your sake and to make you feel better and heal as fast as you could. You cried out for your parents as you were taken away by a doctor and her nurses around her. “Everything is going to be ok.” They promised you. “It will all be better soon.” But the scar the incident left behind would only bring you more pain than you ever would have expected. 

Upon waking up, you were unable to see out of your right eye and began to panic. “Mommy! Daddy! … Mommy!!” You screamed out, thrashing around in your hospital bed. Nurses quickly rushed into the room and held you down to prevent you from messing with your face for a second time, worrying that they were too late. Another ran in and stopped when she saw the heartbreaking scene and slowly walked over to you. “My dear, you are going to have to calm down. You are hurting yourself.” She instructed, taking your small hand in hers. “Mommy?” You hiccuped, your face wet with tears. “No, darling. They will be back soon.” She told you, giving you a sad smile. You took a small shaky breath, tears still falling down your face and nodded to her, curling your small hand into a fist in her hold, slowly pulling away. “Why can’t I see?” You whimpered, reaching a hand up to touch whatever was keeping you from seeing. “No,no! Don’t touch it! You have a wrap over your face to help you get better ok? You won’t be able to see for awhile.” She explained. “Oh…” Was all you could think to say and laid back down with your face pointed at the ceiling. A few of the nurses left your hospital room while others stayed to check your vitals which did startle you. Who were these people and where were your parents? All you wanted was your parents. 

It wasn’t until the next day did your wish come true. Your parents rushed into your room to see you and your mother crumbled into your father's side in tears. You recognize your father standing in the door and reached out for him. “Hello, princess …” He smiled at you, taking your hand. “Daddy!” You giggled, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through the injured half of your face. “Yes, hello! How are you feeling?” He asked you, gently brushing your hair out of your face. Your mother cleaned the tears off of her face and smiled at you, taking your other hand. “I can’t see.” You told them, looking over at your mother. “What?” You mom asked, her face dropping. “My eye is covered. They said it was going to make me feel better!” You happily explained to her with the part of your smile that wasn't covered. “Oh… dear, you frightened me …” She sighed, a hand resting on her chest. “I'm sorry, mommy.” You apologized, squeezing her hand. “Oh! Dear, no! You are perfectly fine!” She chuckled, running her thumb over your hand. Your smile returned to your face after hearing your mother's words and you told them about all of the nice nurses that had been helping you while they were gone. They were pleased to hear about how well things went and made sure to thank all nurses and doctors that helped their daughter recover. You went home with the bandage still on your face which meant you would need your parents help getting around and taking care of the injury but you weren't complaining. 

Your parents loving looks towards you never changed unlike those around you. As you healed, you were able to remove your bandage from off of your eye and you were absolutely happy to be able to see everything from your right eye again. Your skin felt like it was tugging at the side of your face and everything felt so rough to you. The first time you looked into the mirror after the incident, you almost didn’t recognize the reflection staring back at you. Your hair was untouched and so was your eye but the skin on the right half of your face was red and scarred and you feared yourself for the longest time. Your parents explained to you that nothing had changed about you as a person, your face just healed the best it could and tried its best to return to its original look. They made you feel proud of your appearance and body but others did the opposite. 

“Ew! What happened to your face!” They would point and laugh and grimace and when you tried to tell them what your parents had told you, they completely broke you apart. Unfortunately for them, you weren’t one to take insults like that. You shot back 10 times harder and let your young voice be heard. It happened all the time but you had already accepted yourself and what had happened so any negative comments people would throw your way would do absolutely nothing to you and only made you feel more and more confident in yourself. “They don’t know what it’s like and that’s ok. I am beautiful.” You encourage yourself with your head held high. 

_______

“Good luck and we love you.” Your mother sniffled. “Please, don’t cry, mother! I will be back soon. I will visit as much as I can.” You told her, taking her hands. “I know, I know. But you’re just so far away.” She wiped her tears away, reminding you of that day in the hospital. “You stay out of trouble, now.” Your father smiled, bringing you into a hug. “I can’t promise anything.” You chuckled. Your father shook his head and let you go and you took a deep breath. “Bye mom … dad.” You waved, trying your hardest not to cry. “Goodbye, dear. We love you.” Your mom waved back, standing at her husband's side. “I love you guys more. Goodbye.” Your mom shook her head and continued to wave as the car you got in drove off down the road, the figure of your parents getting smaller and smaller. 

When you were too far to see them anymore, you moved out of the window and sat down. “Quite the goodbye.” The driver said, looking at you through the mirror. “The hardest.” You replied, looking down at your bag. It was silent for a while till the driver spoke up but not without hesitation. “I know this may be rude …. But I was wondering what is on your face?” He asked, glancing at you through the mirror every other second, most likely examining your mask. You were silent, thinking of how to answer his question this time around when he spoke up. “I'm sorry… I shouldn’t have asked …” He apologized, scratching his stubble covered chin. “No, no. It’s ok. Uhm, when I was younger, I got a pretty nasty burn. It bothered people a lot so I figured I would wear a mask. Makes it easier for me and them.” You told him, reaching under your mask to itch your scars which he noticed. “Is it uncomfortable?” He asked again, not bothering to look back at you again. “Yeah,” You sighed. “It gets on my nerves a lot.” You said to him, pulling your mask back into place. “You don’t have to wear it here. I'm not one to judge.” He smiled. “Are you sure?” You asked, reaching up to take the mask off. He nodded his head and looked back at the road to focus on driving and you thanked him. You smiled and removed the mask from your face, undoing the straps and putting it in your bag. 

_______

“Here we are. You sure you don’t want me to drive you all the way up there?” He asked, turning around to look at you, not flinching away at your scar covered face at all. “I'm alright. Thank you so much. You really do have a kind soul, sir.” You said while pulling your bags out of the car. “Well, thank you too. And hey, as much as people might get in your hair because of the way you look, you keep moving forward. You're a strong kid. I can tell.” You nodded at him and waved goodbye as he drove off back to the main road. You walked through the large open gates and up the gravel path to the large house that awaited you. 

“Uhm …” 

Knock 

Knock

You hit the door with your knuckles and waited for someone to open the door. You jumped out of your skin when you heard the door open, its old hinges screeching against each other. “Hello?” You called out, walking through the door. “My name is (y/n). I'm the nanny?” You raised a brow and set your things down on the couch by the door and looked around. You wandered around the house, peeking into every room to get a feel for the place when you stumbled across a neat, typed out sheet of rules that sat right next to a porcelain doll.  “Brahms?” You picked the doll up and held it out in front of you, really questioning if this is what you came all this way for. “Oh my god. What did I just get myself into.” You mumbled to yourself. “Ms (L/n) I presume?” A voice greeted from behind you. You gasped and carefully laid the doll down on its side to turn around. An older lady stood at the bedroom door with a smile on her face, waiting for your reply. “Mrs. Heelshire. I am so, so sorry. The door just opened … on its own? So I walked in but no one was there.” You explained to her in a flustered manner. “No worries, it must have been Brahms that opened the door. I'm surprised he did that.” She gestured to the doll. You gave out a few laughs before looking at her face and realizing she was serious. You cleared your throat and looked down at your feet and back up to her. “I am glad you have already had the chance to meet and hold Brahms. He really does seem to like you.” Mrs. Heelshire shrugged. “Oh, yes. He is a very lovely boy.” You nodded which made her smile. “I'm glad to hear that. Me and my husband are leaving tonight so I figured I would explain everything to you before we left.” Mrs. Heelshire said while walking over to the doll and picking it up off of its side to sit it back up. 

_______

“Goodbye.” You closed the door behind the two and let out a long breath. “Oh my god. Oh my god. What the hell.” You panicked, looking around the large house. You were about to enter the kitchen when you heard a door slam shut, making you yelp. “Hello! Who’s there!” You shouted out, grabbing a large knife to protect yourself with. Another door slammed shut behind you making you scream and run up to your room with the knife held tightly in your right hand. “Brahms! If this is you!” You shakily called out to the boy. “Play with me.” A young boy's voice called out to you. The adrenaline racing throughout your body made your heart pump and brought tears to your eyes. “Ok. I'm coming.” You took a deep breath and put the knife down, making the decision to play it safe in case there were to be an actual child running around the long halls of the large mansion. You walked into Brahms’s bedroom and slowly walked over to the doll sitting on the bed. You looked around to see if there was an actual child hiding somewhere nearby but when you found nothing, you quickly looked back over to the doll. “You wanna play?” You asked the doll, picking it up and resting it on your hip. “Well, that isn’t on the list, so.” You scolded him, picking the paper up off the covers and reading over it. 

You started with his lessons, sitting him by you while you struggled to play the piano. After about an hour of that, you picked Brahms up and carried him to a large chair that you pulled in front of your own seat. You picked up a poem book and began to read to him loud and clear for as long as needed and played his music. You walked around the house with Brahms to clean the place up, dusting, wiping things down, sweeping and mopping everything you could while swaying to the sound of the song playing in the background. When the music stopped, you left Brahms to put everything away. When you came back, Brahms was no longer sitting where he once was and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. “Brahms?” You yelled, quickly walking all throughout the house trying to find where he went off too. “I'm sorry. I forgot about the rule to never leave you alone.” You apologized to him once you found him looking out the glass doors that lead to a balcony on the top floor. You picked him up and looked outside at the green trees surrounding the place. It was warm enough that you wouldn’t want to layer up during the daytime so you figured it would be nice to take him to the balcony. 

Lifting the latch to the door, you pulled them open to let in the fresh outside air. “Nice, isn’t it.” You smiled walking forward to lean on the railing with Brahms still in your arms but you weren't expecting the railing underneath you to be so weak and crumble apart when you put your weight on it and you fell forward. The broken stone stabbed into your stomach as you fell down to the ground, trying to curl your body to keep Brahms safe but you were too late in catching yourself and began to fall off of the balcony. You let out a very loud scream as you fell off the platform, throwing Brahms behind you so he didn’t fall down with you. You had thought that you had met your end until you felt a large hand grip the back of your shirt and prevent you from falling all the way to the ground from the top floor. The person behind you grabbed your leg and pulled you back onto the balcony, hugging you close. You were about to scream out for the stranger to let you go but felt a warm feeling flow throughout your body. Your burns marks began to disappear and the scratches and stab wound closed up and the dark blood that stained your clothing was the only proof left that it had actually happened. 

Brahms felt the change as well and let you go so he could back away to reach his hand under his mask to feel his face. It felt smooth under his touch for once and he was startled. What have you done? Where were his scars? He snapped his head up to look at you and you quickly stood up to run off. You didn’t catch him speed off until he was already through the doors, the doll in his hand. “Wait! Hold on!” You called after him, quickly getting up and pulling your mask off of your face to let it fall to the ground. You had abandoned it with the broken stones that made up the railing of the balcony and left the doors open as well. You sprinted after him, catching his sleeve in the process and pulled as hard as you could. Brahms stumbled back and wrapped his hand around your neck, lifting you up before slamming you into the ground. Your head collided with the hardwood floor of the house leaving you dizzy and causing Brahms to feel the same. He loosened his grip on your throat and waited for the throbbing in the back of his head to stop before looking back at you. When he felt his airway closing up as he held his large hand down on your throat, it finally hit him. “Soulmate.” A deeper voice whispered. His hand lifted off of your neck allowing you to take a deep breath of air and pulled you back into his lap. 

The doll was discarded by a decorative chair by the both of you and his new free hand came over to wrap itself around your body. He held you as close as he could, his mask getting in the way of him pressing his face into your hair. He removed his mask without a second thought and nuzzled his face into your neck. He had never felt this type of calm before. It was new to him and it made his heart beat fast and his skin tingle. You tried moving away from the man holding you but his grip on you only got tighter. He found his other half and there was no way he was letting you go now. “You’re my soulmate.” You whispered, trying to comprehend everything that was happening. You closed your eyes and leaned back into Brahms chest and felt a feeling that you had never felt before. 

Love

You felt at home in his arms. You didn’t care if it was in the snow, in the heat, or in the dirt. Wherever he was, was where your home would be. He felt the need to be closer to you than possible and just held you there, enjoying the time he was sharing with you. “(Y/n)...” The low voice spoke just above a whisper. Hearing him speak made you want to cry a river of tears of joy. His voice was like a sweet melody in your ears, so soft and soothing and you could listen to it all day long. You could listen to it for the rest of your life.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Eccentricity [Chapter 11: You Don’t Come Around No More]

A/N: I apologize profusely for the long wait. Thank you all so, so, so much for your support. Every single reblog, message, comment, emotional rant, and/or screech of despair makes my day, and I couldn’t do this without you. 💜 Only THREE more chapters left!!!

Series Summary: Joe Mazzello is a nice guy with a weird family. A VERY weird family. They have a secret, and you have a choice to make. Potentially a better love story than Twilight.

Chapter Title Is A Lyric From: “More To Life Than Baseball” by Petey. 

Chapter Warnings: Language, angsttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt.

Word Count: 7.5k. 

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​​​​ @bramblesforbreakfast​​​​​​​ @maggieroseevans​​​​​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​​​​​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​​​​​ @escabell​​​​​ @im-an-adult-ish​​​​​​ @queenlover05​​​​​ @someforeigntragedy​​​​​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​​​​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​​​​​ @deacyblues​​​​​ ​ @tensecondvacation​​​​ @brianssixpence​​​​​ @some-major-ishues​​​​ @haileymorelikestupid​​​​ @youngpastafanmug​​​​ @simonedk​

The Rain

I wish I felt empty.

I’m supposed to feel empty, right? I’m supposed to feel steeped in grey, oceanic misery; I’m supposed to dip in and out of depressive naps all day and sob delicately over creased photos and fading, wistful memories. I always envisioned heartbreak as a soft and inherently feminine sort of affliction: the hems of nightgowns and bathrobes sweeping along hardwood floors, Kleenex boxes and concave couch cushions, weepy phone calls to friends and aunts and mothers, Queen Victoria wearing black for the rest of her life after Prince Albert’s death, Mary Todd Lincoln sinking into dark and hushed obscurity. Women, hollowed out by despair, cross the history of the earth like lines of latitude.

I don’t feel empty at all. I don’t even feel sad. I feel razored by sharp, red, ceaseless anxiety. I am consumed by thoughts of what I did wrong, what I said that started the wheels of doubt spinning in his mind, if he had known how it would end from the start. I dream of white, clawed hands dragging me down through cold waves. I hear words scream to me as I toss at night in my suddenly too-spacious bed, words that now hit me like knuckles to the gut: Shhh, hey, it’s just me, don’t get up, as Joe slipped beneath the Arizonan blankets, wrapped an arm around my waist, kissed my collarbone as I tumbled back into sleep; I love you to death, as his Subaru idled in Charlie’s driveway; Baby Swan, listen to me, nothing is supposed to hurt, okay, so if anything hurts, ever, at all, you tell me and we stop, deal? as we stood in the doorway of our hotel room at the Four Seasons in Chicago. And now...and now...

And now everything fucking hurts.

It doesn’t make any sense; and yet it does. Look at him. Look at me.

The Polaroid photo from Homecoming was still taped to the top of my full-length mirror. I peeled it free like a layer of translucent, friable reptilian skin, tore it straight down the center, burned both halves over a brand new three-wicked, lemon-scented Bath And Body Works candle—a gift from Renee and Paul—and closed my eyes like a child casting a wish over her birthday cake like a spell. I wished for my memories to vanish with the photograph. I wished to get hit by a truck and wake up in the hospital with no recollection of the past two and a half months. I wanted the Lees to dissolve into distant, enigmatic mystery; I wanted to join the rest of Forks in believing that they were nothing more than bewildering and yet harmless freaks, barely worth noticing, one of those glitches of the matrix that were better off ignored like liminal seconds of déjà vu. I wished to carve out every part of myself that they had ever touched.

And Joe’s voice came rushing back from where we stood by that star-lit fountain outside the Church of Saint Lawrence, accompanied by falling raindrops and a crooked grin: I can make wishes come true.

The three tiny flames flickered in the breeze that sighed through my open window. The bright, citrusy scent of the candle reminded me of Lucy. I couldn’t fucking win. What else is new?

I turned back to the mirror. I flinched when my gaze snagged on my reflection: bloodshot-eyed, swollen-faced, utterly unbeautiful, restless like a caged animal. Look at him. Look at me.

I ripped the last memento off the mirror—Official Citation!! No More Sad Spaghetti!!—and watched the yellow square of paper catch fire, curl up around the edges, become unrecognizable, turn to ash. And I wished over and over again, like a poem, like a prayer: Let me forget, oh god please let me forget.

Charlie keeps asking if I’m okay. The answer, of course, is no; but I can’t tell him that. So I wear a serene smile like clip-on fangs, a cheap polyester cloak, crimson smudges of lipstick like trails of spilled blood down the side of my neck. Every day is Halloween for me now. I dress up as someone who isn’t haunted, who hasn’t become a ghost.

And when Charlie turns up the World Series or I’d Do Anything For Love on his geriatric, staticky kitchen radio—the same radio he’s had since my mother was the one joining him for daybreak coffee and Pop-Tarts—I choke back tears like dragonfire.

Missing In Action (Revisited)

Joe wasn’t here. Neither was Ben.

Lucy, Rami, and Scarlett were sipping cups of tea at the Lees’ usual table, their eyes downcast, their voices low and murmuring, their pristine lunches neglected. Lucy and Rami were dressed in matching charcoal grey turtleneck sweaters; Scarlett had come from Fencing Club and was wearing royal purple yoga pants and a black tank top, her duffle bag of gear on the floor by her sneakered feet. Her hair was in a long fishtail braid. Archer hadn’t mentioned her since Joe broke up with me. That either meant that it was going blissfully and he didn’t want to injure me further, or that Scarlett had ended things as well.

Since Joe broke up with me. That sounds so fucking pedestrian.

I stared at the three present Lees, almost leered, commanding them to see me, to acknowledge me, to admit that I had once meant something to them, that this hadn’t all been some transitory delusion to fill the cavernous void of losing my home, my life as I knew it in Arizona. They took no notice whatsoever.

Jess kicked me beneath the lunch table. My attention snapped back to her.

“Sorry, what?”

“You want to go shopping with me and Angela tonight?” Jessica’s hands were folded just beneath her chin, her voice gentle, her eyes large and sympathetic and watery. This was her version of being supportive. I appreciated it...in a perpetually tormented and preoccupied sort of way.

“No thanks.” I forked my cold, sauceless spaghetti listlessly. I’d forgotten to pack a lunch. I didn’t have an appetite anyway. I had deleted the GrubHub app from my iPhone and had no intention of using it ever again in my comparatively short and calamitous human life.

“You could come to temple this weekend,” Jessica pressed.

“Uh.” Mingling with a churchful of sociable, wholesome, marriage-obsessed adolescent Mormons sounded like the absolute last thing I’d want to spend my evening doing. “That’s a really generous offer, but I’ll pass.”

“Well you have to do something,” Angela said. “You can’t just sit in your bedroom alone all weekend and stare at the wall and wallow in self-pity.”

We’ll see about that. I turned to Jess. “How’s Vodka Boy from your Indigenous Peoples of the Arctic class? Did he ever reappear? What’s his name again, Elmo? Ellington? El Chapo?”

“Ellsworth.” She frowned as she slurped her patron-drink-of-Mormons Sprite. “And no, he definitely failed out or overdosed or something, because he never came back.”

“Tragic,” I noted.

“But I’m pretty sure Mike’s coming over this weekend, so we’ll see if I can get some Netflix and chill action going.”

“Jess,” Angela chastised, widening her eyes and nodding to me subtly (but not quite subtly enough). No talking about getting lucky in front of the heartbroken single loser, that look said.

“I think I can be emotionally supportive without taking a goddamn vow of chastity, Angela!” Jessica hurled back.

“I gotta go.” I stood, threw on my backpack, discarded my nearly untouched lunch.

“You’ve barely eaten anything!” Angela protested. “You’ve barely eaten for a week!”

“I’ll live.” I picked my umbrella up off the slippery tile floor—peppered with muddy shoeprints and pearlescent drops of water fallen from coats and limp, sopping locks of hair—and headed out into the pouring rain. I hated the rain. I hated it. Maybe I had forgotten that for a while, but it all came hurtling back now like a hurricane, like a hand cracking across my face. I ached for the desert, for blatant and unapologetic heat, for palm trees and cacti and naked stars in the night sky. I had been researching marine biology graduate programs in the Southwest. There were good ones at UC San Diego, UC Santa Barbara, Texas A&M, the University of Southern California, UCLA. I would miss Charlie and Archer—and maybe Jessica and Angela on occasion—and absolutely nothing else about Forks. At least, that’s what I promised myself.

This is a no-giving-a-fuck-about-Lee-boys zone, I thought morosely.

Ben was brooding at our table in Professor Belvin’s classroom. It was the first time he’d shown up to Chemistry since that day Joe met me on the beach at La Push, since the place I’d once occupied in his universe had closed like a wound. I took my seat beside Ben. The window was shut today, the downpour outside torrential. Ben recoiled, just enough for me to notice; he was wearing his oversized black hoodie and practicing his Welsh, his handwriting messy and unbalanced.

“You could have warned me,” I said.

Ben didn’t glance up from his notebook. “Would that have made it any easier?”

“No,” I realized in defeat. I guess it wouldn’t have. I pulled my own notebook, my favorite pen, and a can of Diet Coke out of my backpack.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ben said. “You really need to know that. It had nothing to do with you. And none of us are happy with the current situation. None of us.”

None of them. That included Joe. “Interestingly, that didn’t stop him from creating it.”

Ben was thoughtful, debating his next words. “We’re probably going to be moving soon.”

“What?” I startled; my turquoise blue pen dropped out of my grasp and rolled across the table. Ben snatched it up and returned it to me. “Really?”    

“Yeah.”

“And what, just redo this whole college thing?”

Ben shrugged. “We’ll probably start our junior years over again. Gwil will say there was some horrible family tragedy and we needed a few semesters off. I could use the extra time to figure out Calc anyway. Parametric equations make me want to kill myself.”

I just stared at him. It didn’t make any sense. “But...why would the whole family leave Forks? Because of me? One pathetic, aggrieved human? Do you all pack up and relocate every time Joe fucks and dumps someone? That must be exhausting.”

“It’s better for everyone if we get some distance. Put more space between our world and yours.”

“But...” I tried to imagine never seeing any of them again: no Mercy humming merrily as she tossed handfuls of homegrown carrots to the alpacas, no Dr. Lee dabbing away my blood with an ageless sort of patience, no Scarlett or Lucy or Rami, no brief glimpses of Joe as he avoided me in the campus library. It’s exactly what I wanted; and yet it wasn’t. It so, so, so, so wasn’t. It keeps getting worse. How is that possible? My voice was flimsy and quivering, absolutely pitiful. Disgustingly pitiful. “Who will be my lab partner?”

Ben peered over at me with wide, confused green eyes. And then—gingerly, awkwardly, like holding an acquaintance’s baby for the first time—he laid his hand over mine. “I’ll miss you too.”

Professor Belvin lectured about coordinate covalent bonds. I didn’t absorb a word. I conjugated Italian verbs with my turquoise blue pen, sketched disordered whirlpools of ink, tried not to think about whether this was my last-ever Chemistry class with Ben, whether it was my last-ever weekend sharing Forks with the Lees. Those rageful, frantic thoughts were back. What did I do wrong? What didn’t I do right? Why did he have to leave?

My nomadic gaze caught on a flier on the wall next to our misted window. I had assumed it was a leaflet for some club or protest or seasonal dance that I would definitely not attend, but it wasn’t. It was a missing poster.

Have you seen this student? the flier asked in bold, businesslike black font. It was urgent, but not quite despairing; not yet, anyway. I could hear a Dean of Student Affairs cajoling some affluent, strings-of-pearls-adorned mother over the phone: Yes ma’am, you have my full attention and I can assure you that we’re very concerned, but I’m sure it’s all just a misunderstanding...he’s probably gone backpacking or sailing with some friends and forgotten to call home. You know how college students can be. Beneath a large photo of a grinning blond kid—pink polo, flushed cheeks, clever crop job to nix a can of Natty Light clutched in one fist—was a name: Ellsworth Jonathan Griffin.

Ellsworth, I thought, my stomach plummeting. The guy from Jessica’s Indigenous Peoples of the Arctic class. He hadn’t failed out. He was missing. Missing like a 20/20 episode or a true crime podcast, missing like the pregnant stillness before a murder is confessed in some glaringly florescent-lit interrogation room, before a distended and bloodless corpse washes up on shore.

I turned to Ben. He noticed me eventually, crinkled his brow, shrugged in that way that seemed so petulant if you didn’t know him well enough to not be offended.

I pointed to the flier and raised my eyebrows. Ben twisted around in his chair to look. Then he sighed, scribbled a sentence in the corner of a piece of notebook paper, tore it free, and slid it across the table.

Ben’s note read, in atrocious penmanship: Are you seriously asking me if I ate that guy?

Maybe, I wrote back after a moment’s hesitation. Maybe that wasn’t exactly what I was asking; maybe I just wondered if he knew anything about it.

In either case, Ben’s reply was swift and resounding, and underlined three times: No.

Sorry, I wrote, abruptly remorseful. I am a jerk. And I added a frowny face for good measure. Ben chuckled when he saw it, shook his head, gave me a drawn little smirk. His words tiptoed around in my skull, leaving searing imprints like footprints in the sand. I’ll miss you too.

I have to forget about them. I drummed my turquoise blue pen against my notebook as Professor Belvin drew families of molecules on the whiteboard with squealing dry erase markers. I have to find a way to make myself forget.

Jessica was waiting for me in the hallway after class. It was part of her convince-Baby-Swan-not-to-jump-off-a-cliff initiative. “Hey.”

“Okay,” I told her with steely resolve. “I’m ready for you to set me up with one of those guys from your church or temple or whatever. I’m ready to be a nice wholesome wife, pop out like six kids, learn how to scrapbook, give up caffeine and horror movies, do the whole white picket fence thing. Sign me up.”

Jessica blinked at me. There were flecks of fallen mascara on her cheekbones like ashes. “What?”

“You’re a Mormon, right?”

“Girl, I’m not a Mormon,” Jessica said, puzzled. “I’m a witch.”

Lucille

I found Joe where he usually was these days: sprawled on the sofa, engulfed in the same blue Snuggie he’d been wearing for thirty-six uninterrupted hours, gazing catatonically at the big-screen tv. A 90 Day Fiancé marathon was on. Some rodentish guy named Colt was apologizing to his gorgeous, aspiring-green-card-holding Brazilian love interest for calling the cops on her during their last screaming match. He was also apologizing for the fact that they lived in a two-bedroom apartment with his mother. I didn’t need clairvoyance to see where their future was headed.

“Hey,” Ben said when he spotted me. He was sitting next to Joe and occasionally tried to shove pieces of popcorn into his mouth, which Joe accepted passively like coins plinked into a gumball machine. Ben had been his shadow for the past week; he was perhaps the best equipped of us to understand this degree of melancholy, of hopelessness.  

“Ciao.” And then, to Joe: “How are you?”

“Terrible,” he replied, not tearing his eyes from the tv.

“I figured.” I squeezed between them on the couch, curled up next to Joe, rested my chin on his shoulder. He ignored me completely. I could hear Mercy tapping at her laptop keyboard out in the dining room; she was browsing through Zillow listings in Portland, Buffalo, Pittsburgh, Cleveland. Dear god, please don’t let us end up in fucking Cleveland. “Guess what.”

Joe stared at the tv for a long time before he answered. “What.”

“I had a vision of you. Just now, as I was doing laundry. Crystal clear and very scenic too, I might add.”

“Fascinating,” Joe said flatly.

“What happened in this vision?” Ben asked, far more invested, which I was thankful for.

“It was pretty far away, maybe a year from now. I saw you in the desert at night, under a full moon. There were cacti everywhere. The shadow of the Milky Way was threaded through the sky, and the stars were very bright. I could make out the constellations Pegasus and Cassiopeia. You were filling up a tiny glass bottle with dirt.”

“That’s remarkably helpful,” Joe said.

“It is, a little bit,” I insisted. “It means you get through this. That you have a future. I get nervous when I go too long without a vision of someone in the family. But now I know you’re going to be okay.”

The reflections of the feuding 90 Day Fiancé couples danced in his glassy eyes. “Being alive doesn’t mean you’re okay.”

“That’s dark,” Ben said. “Even I think that’s too dark.” He pushed a handful of popcorn into Joe’s mouth. “Are you gonna hunt at some point or what?”

“No.”

“You’re just gonna sit on this couch and waste away?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to bring you anything? Grizzly bear? Brown bear? Fuck it, I’ll get you a polar bear if that’s what you want. There’s probably some on the black market. Rami would know.”

“He what?” Mercy called from the kitchen. Her typing had stopped.

“Nothing, Mom!” I shot back.

“I don’t want anything,” Joe said. That was a lie, of course. We all knew what he wanted. Rami couldn’t stand to be around him; the thoughts were relentless, smothering.

I linked my arms around Joe’s neck, laid my head against his chest, sighed deeply and mournfully. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I know that doesn’t fix anything. But I’m so, so sorry. And I’ll help however I can. We all will.”

And I had accepted that Joe wasn’t going to respond at all when he finally whispered: “I just wish I could forget.”

Cato

My rolling suitcase snagged on the cobblestone driveway. The tiny spinning wheels bashed against concrete as I scaled the front steps. As the taxi pulled away, I dug around in my suit pocket for my keys, found them, unlocked the enormous front door, stepped inside the palace as my suitcase trolled along the marble floor.

“Cato’s back!” Charity announced as she breezed down the nearest staircase, beaming and embracing me. She was a lovely, innately warm woman from Pointe-Noire, Congo; she still wore the silver cross necklace her mother had once given her around her neck. “Did you have a nice flight? Wait, let me check.” She pressed the fingertips of her right hand to my cheek. I felt the memories rush up like blood to a flushed face: the bite of sipped champagne against my tongue, the thin semi-transparent newspaper pages gliding between my fingers, the husky voice of the bearded, bearish naval officer who sat in the seat beside me, the misted silhouette of Vladivostok as it rose up out of the Pacific Ocean. “Uneventful, but pleasant enough. You flew commercial?”

“The jets were otherwise occupied, apparently.” Charity could see things with the predictability and precision that Lucy so often lacked, but only the past. I pushed her hand away. “Was that really necessary?”

“You’re not mad,” Charity declared, confident, impish, helping me shed my suit jacket and draping it over her arm. “You’re never mad.”

She was very nearly correct. “Where are the rest of the kids?”

“In the kitchen. Go say hello, they’ve missed you dreadfully.”

“I know the feeling.” I kicked off my Berlutis, ran a palm over the wiry fur of the Irish Wolfhounds that appeared to greet me before they resumed padding watchfully around the palace, and went to the kitchen, my black socks slipping a bit on the marble floors.

I could hear their voices before I reached the door: laughter, teasing, complaints, requests. The scents of pancakes and cold butter and maple syrup were thick in the air. Charity was one of our four newest recruits, and they all still had that energetic lightness of being human, a youthful enthusiasm, a relative normalness. I spent quite a lot of time with them. It was my job—to help with the transition, to keep them happy, to facilitate the welding of their individual parts into the beastly machine that was the Draghi—but oftentimes it felt more like a reprieve. Some would stay close to me as they matured, others would grow in different directions, like ambitious vines climbing the skeleton of a garden trellis. I usually missed them when they ‘grew up,’ so to speak...although there were exceptions. I had never liked Liesl. I had always liked Ben. I opened the door.

“Ah, you are home!” Ksenia cried from where she stood over the stove, a spatula in her right hand, bouncing excitedly in place on her small bare feet.

“Hey!” Max and Austin called together. They were both sitting with their shoes propped up on the unglamorous kitchen table. There was a massive formal dining room that could accommodate up to twenty-five guests, but we rarely used it.

“Good morning,” I said, aware that I was smiling for the first time in days.

Max groaned as he scrolled through his Google search results on a burner phone. “What the fuck. My name is one of the top five dog names again. I think I’m gonna have to change it.”

I ruffled his long blond hair, stealing a piece of bacon from his plate. Max had grown up a trust fund kid in Perth, Australia. His mother was old money; his father was a professional surfer. “Your name is fine.”

“Really, Kato Kaelin? Is it really? How am I supposed to intimidate people when I have a fucking dog name?”

“So make them call you Maximilian,” offered Ksenia in a heavy Ukrainian accent. She’d only been with us for eight months, but her English was coming along swimmingly. She flipped a massive A-shaped pancake on the sizzling griddle. That one was for Austin.

“Seriously?” Max said. “That is just way too many syllables. They’ll be halfway down the block by the time I’m done introducing myself. ‘Hey, come back mate, I haven’t killed ya yet.’”

“At least you aren’t stuck with a basic-white-boy-circa-1992 name for all of eternity,” said Austin Tyler McInerny, originally of Sheboygan, Wisconsin. He was chomping on a multicolored Fruit Roll-Up, which swung from his mouth like a lizard’s tongue. He’d been working at an ailing skatepark when Larkin found him. He still enjoyed showing off his kickflips, and kept insisting that he was going to teach me how to ollie. I didn’t have the faintest idea what an ollie was.

“Do you want a pancake, Cato?” Ksenia asked, passing Austin his plate and wiping her hands on her pink apron. Her black hair was tied in a high ponytail with a matching rose-colored ribbon. She looked so young. She was so young, actually. Nineteen. And she would be forever.

“No, thank you dear. I’m alright.”

“I like Alaric,” Max decided. “First king of the Visigoths. Alaric is a name fit for a vampire. Creepy, yet dignified. Or maybe Silas. Or Draco.”

Austin shook his head as he swirled a river of viscous maple syrup over his A-shaped pancake. “Definitely not Draco.”

“Why not?”

“Well, the Harry Potter connection is unfortunate. People will hear Draco and think of that obnoxious white-haired kid from the evil snake-people house or whatever.”

“Oh, right,” Max sighed. “Like I said. Alaric would work.”

“So many A-shaped pancakes!” Ksenia poured a K on the griddle for herself.

“It’s good for you,” Austin replied, pointing at her with his fork. “We’re practicing English.”

“Alaric Luther,” Max mused, scrolling through his phone. I didn’t think he’d find that on any list of trendy dog names. “Alaric Lothaire...Alaric Lucian...”

“I like your name, Max,” Larkin said from the doorway. None of us had heard him arrive. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, wearing a deep maroon suit and a ring on every finger, grinning hugely. He was exactly as I remembered him: stunning, captivating, terrifying. The kitchen fell quiet. I could smell Ksenia’s pancake beginning to burn.

At last Max chuckled nervously, pushing soggy pancake hunks around on his plate with his fork, averting his gaze. “Guess I’ll keep it then.”

“I thought I heard you come in,” Larkin told me.

“It’s always a pleasure to be home.”

He nodded out towards the hallway. “Come. Regale me with the stories of your travels.” Then his eyes flicked down to my socks, and he grimaced—slightly, briefly—before turning away. “And find your shoes.”

I followed him through the hallway, the living room, the grand front foyer with the crystal chandelier, into the elevator. Larkin did not speak, but he hummed as we ascended: House Of The Rising Sun.

It hadn’t always been like this. It was difficult for me to pick out the details of what had changed—the tone of his voice, the proportion of wonder and gratitude I associated with him versus fear, the way this palace (or the one in Reykjavik, or Juneau, or Ivalo, or Murmansk, or any of the others) felt when I stepped inside it—but I knew something had. It had begun before Ben left. It was much worse now. Older vampires, in my fairly learned opinion, are something like the stars. They mellow as they age, temper their character flaws, grow wise and patient like Nikolai or Honora or Gwilym Lee; or they rage until they burn away every last atom of humanity, until they destroy themselves and take entire solar systems down with them. Increasingly, I harbored fears that Larkin was a vampire of the latter variety. And we were all his planets.

In his study, Larkin dropped into the chair behind his desk, brought a hand to his forehead, surveyed a disarrayed flurry of papers: letters, notices, deeds and titles, meticulously managed accounts of finances and disciplinary actions. Larkin had a laptop and burner phone, of course, as we all did; but he liked to work in paper as much as possible. That’s how he’d done things for centuries, since long before the name of the inventor of the internet (or harnessed electricity, for that matter) was a whisper on his parents’ lips. The sky outside was clouded and seeping soft rain.

“Things have been busy?” I ventured.

He frowned, gesturing to the cluttered desk. “I’m in purgatory.”

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that. Can I help?”

“The Lancaster coven says they’ll need an extension for their dues. That’s the second year in a row, now it’s not just an exception, it’s a precedent. If you let one coven bend the rules, others will follow. So something will have to be done. Then there’s Stockholm. Anders’ coven has eaten a few too many locals—including the mayor’s favorite niece—and now the city is launching an investigation. Fucking idiots. They’ll probably all have to relocate. There’s some new territory dispute in Lima between Alejandro’s coven and a group of strangers that just came out of the Andes. We’ll have to make their acquaintance, of course. And as if all that weren’t enough, Rigel accidentally fed on a heroin addict and he’s currently detoxing in a cell in the basement. Would you check on him for me? I’m sure your presence will be a...” He waved his hand distractedly, almost dismissively, searching for the words. “A comfort to him.”

“Of course.”

“How are the Lees?”

“Fine. Typical. Gwil’s putting in a lot of hours at the hospital. Rami’s planning to get another law degree. Ben is, uh, adjusting. Slowly, very slowly. He’s not particularly content. But he hasn’t murdered anyone that I’m aware of.”

“How nice.” Now his eyes darted up to catch mine: focused, luminous, unreadable. “Nothing new at all?”

And instantly, I wanted to tell him everything. I forgot why I had ever planned to blunt the girl’s existence, to conceal her talent entirely; I felt her name rising in my throat. And then I remembered again. I’m doing this for Gwil, for Ben.

I pretended to ponder Larkin’s question, as if it was so difficult to remember, as if there was nothing left to sift through but a trunkful of mundane details from the trip like a grandfather’s tattered correspondence and tarnished war relics. That was something an average family might have squirreled away in their attic, I assumed; I’d never met my own grandfather, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have had anything to leave me if I had. “Joe’s got some new girlfriend, but I don’t think it’s serious. I doubt she’ll be around long. You know how Joe is. Scarlett’s seeing someone too, actually. A Quileute kid.”

“Poor boy.” And Larkin grinned like a shark beneath burning eyes. “He’s in for a lifetime of disappointment. Who will ever be able to hold a candle to those memories?”

Larkin had a moderate preoccupation with Scarlett’s beauty, her...tenacity. Her lack of talent was a great disappointment to him, a somehow more egregious fault than Joe or Gwil or Mercy’s. What a shame, Larkin often said. And I believed I knew what came after in his mind, although never aloud: What a partner she could have been.

He was still grinning at me. His expression was hollow, vacuous. A shiver clawed down my spine. He was waiting for something. No, he was searching. I stared back, and I willed for that intangible, contagious harmony I carried around like a wedding ring to hit him like carbon monoxide or bromine: undetected and yet inexorable, knocking him off his path of inquisition.

What does he suspect? What does he already know?

“Anyway,” Larkin continued abruptly, turning his attention back to his paperwork. “I’m glad there’s nothing to worry about in Forks. Liesl will be back in the next few days, Rigel will be ready to work again, I’ll come up with a plan to handle all this and my mood will improve tremendously.”

And where has Liesl been? I almost asked; and then I didn’t. It was a good sign that she was coming home. I had looked for her once while I was in Forks. When I made up my mind to find someone—when that switch flipped in my skull or in the tangle of nerves of my solar plexus or wherever it lived—it wasn’t like poking around on Google Earth: zooming in here, scrolling over there. A goldish trail lit up on the floor, a ‘Yellow Brick Road’ Honora and I sometimes joked, and I followed it. And I had no way of knowing how far that trail might lead. A route heading dead east from the palace might stop in the next town over or continue across the Pacific Ocean; my search might last one day or a hundred. In Forks—as I perched in a soaring western hemlock tree in the forest outside the Lee residence on a cool October evening—Liesl’s trail had led north. North to Vancouver, to Victoria, to Dawson, to Alaska? Who the fuck knew. I was just relieved it hadn’t led to the tree next to mine.

“Well, as always, I’m happy to assist however I can,” I told Larkin. “Just let me know and I’ll be on the next flight out of Vladivostok.”

“I appreciate that, Cato.” He smiled, paternally this time. And then he spun his chair around to peer out the window into the episodic flares of lightning that illuminated great dark clouds like neurons in a celestial brain. I hate thunderstorms. They remind me of South Carolina. “But I think you’ve earned a rest.”

After checking in on Rigel—irritable, frenetic, pacing, and yet predictably pacified somewhat by my visit—I trotted up the main staircase to the second floor of the palace. I found her in our bedroom: sitting at her easel, a paintbrush held in one graceful hand, an image like a photograph on the canvas. I promptly pried off my Berlutis for the second time today and tossed them into the closet.

“Ciao, amore,” I said.

“Ciao!” Honora replied, beaming. Her curly brunette hair was pinned up and away from her face; wayward tendrils spiraled down to brush her bare shoulder blades, the back of her neck. “Just give me five minutes...I have to finish the shadow of this tree...”

There weren’t many in the Draghi who survived the transition from Nikolai’s leadership to Larkin’s, but Honora had. She was gentle to a fault, a hopeless warrior, turned into an immortal on her forty-fourth birthday when Rome was still an empire; and she was without any talents whatsoever, except for one which was useless in combat. Her paintings, drawings, and sculptures adorned every palace the Draghi owned. Each year, Larkin would ask her to paint all of us together, incorporating any new faces, erasing the memories of those who had proven themselves unworthy. One such portrait, I knew, hung in Gwilym Lee’s home office.

I went to the woman I called my wife, laid my palms on her shoulders, leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Take your time, love.”

“Everything’s alright?” Honora asked, looking hopefully up at me with large, wide-set jade eyes. No, not just hopefully. Trustingly.

“Everything’s alright,” I agreed, not knowing if I believed it.

Shadows And Spells

“He just...just...disappeared?!” Jessica sputtered, scandalized, gaping at me as she held a Styrofoam cup of spiked apple cider in her clasped hands.

We were on a quilt near the outskirts of the sea of beach towels and blankets that circled the bonfire. Women—wearing flowing dresses or robes or tunics or not very much at all—flounced around the flames banging tambourines and reciting chants that I didn’t know the words to. Some carried torches, beacons of heat and light in the darkness. Jessica was wearing a short black shirt, fishnet tights, and a black crop-top turtleneck sweater; I had opted for a bohemian blue dress patterned with stars, an old thrift shop find and the closest thing I owned to Wiccan festivities apparel. I had a cup of hot apple cider as well, enhanced with a generous splash of Captain Morgan, but hadn’t quite conjured up the rebelliousness to drink it yet.

I suddenly recalled Mercy bringing me an endless supply of virgin autumnal sangrias as Joe and I swam in the hot tub on the Lees’ back porch. As soon as you turn twenty-one, you can have the real thing. I frowned, shuddered, took a bitter and burning sip.

“Yeah,” I replied. “He told his roommate he was going to a frat party or something and never showed up and never made it back home either. The parents are blaming the university, the university is insisting he must be off with a girlfriend or on some hipster soul-searching nature adventure or whatever, it’s a mess.”

“Jesus,” she murmured. “What does your dad say?”

“He’s been helping the state police with the investigation. There’s really no evidence of anything. No witnesses, no footprints, no surveillance footage, no handy anonymous tips...”

“No body,” Jessica finished.

“That’s morbid.” I downed the rest of my cider. Was the world already beginning to list like a ship on choppy waves, or was that just my imagination? I guess it would be possible. I’d barely eaten all day.

“You were thinking it.”

“Well, one’s mind does tend to wander towards homicide under such circumstances.”

“It is the season of the dead.” She grinned wickedly, then took my empty cup. “He’s probably fine. I bet he wants to drop out to become a weed farmer and hasn’t worked up the guts to tell his parents yet. You want another?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. I’ll be right back.” Jess rose to balance on black boots with five-inch heels and staggered off to the foldable table piled high with cans and bottles and snacks. I was getting the impression that her Wiccanism was more of a novelty than a spiritual commitment.

The season of the dead. Now that’s VERY morbid.

There were some guys laughing, smoking home-rolled cigarettes, and toasting glasses of red wine on a nearby mandala blanket, bespectacled intellectual types who were probably getting PhDs in Anthropology or Medieval Studies at the University of Washington. One of them—curly-haired, pale-eyed, wearing a sweater vest and a cautious smile—raised his wine glass in my direction. I waved back without much enthusiasm.

“He’s cute, right?” Jessica asked, plopping back down onto our quilt and shoving a full cup of spiked cider into my grasp. She motioned for me to drink. I did. “That’s Sebastian, but he likes to be called Bash. He’s twenty-three and speaks fluent German.”

“Charming.”

“He’s very...uh...gifted. I’m not saying I know from personal experience, but I’ve heard it from a very reliable source. And his parents own a beach house in Monterey. You could go skinny-dipping.”  

“In the ocean?” The world was definitely wobbling now. I was warm all over, numbed, fuzzy; it was becoming difficult to picture Joe’s face, to hear his voice. This was good. I kept drinking. “No thanks. Too many sharks. They have great whites down there.”

Jess tossed her long, loose hair and sighed impatiently. “I’m just saying that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. So you should pursue that.”

“I’ll totally consider it.” I lied. I would not consider it.

She smiled, sympathetically, fondly. “I can’t believe you thought I was a Mormon.”

“I can’t believe I’m out in the Washington wilderness commemorating the Gaelic festival of Samhain, but here we all are.”

Jess glanced over my shoulder. “Oh my god. He’s coming over here.”

“Ugh.” I craned my neck to see. Sebastian—whoops, my mistake, Bash—was approaching. “Please distract him. I don’t want to talk to anyone. Also I’m pretty sure I’m getting drunk and I don’t want to do anything humiliating, like sob uncontrollably about how much I miss my ex-boyfriend.”

“Don’t worry. I gotchu, Baby Swan.”

“Hey Jess,” Bash said, but he was looking at me. He pitched his cigarette off into the trees. What the fuck, who does that?

“Only you can prevent forest fires,” I told him in a woozy, mock-Smokey Bear voice.

“What?” he asked, baffled.

“Ignore her, she’s drunk,” Jess said quickly. “So what’s up? Come on, sit with me. Keep me toasty. Teach me some German...”

As they chatted and giggled and snuggled closer together—I’m starting to think that Jessica might have been her own reliable source—I studied the forest, watching to make sure the cigarette didn’t begin to smolder in the damp brush. The voices and crackling of the bonfire and sharp ringing of the tambourines faded into one muted, uniform drone. The trees reeled in the haze of the spiked cider; the cool wind moaned through them. And then, for only a second: a glimpse of something impossibly quick, something silvery and reedy and sunless.

What was that?

I blinked. It was gone. I blinked again, staring penetratingly. The swarming heat from the cider evaporated from my skin, my blood. There were goosebumps rising all over me.

What the hell was that?

I remembered how Calawah University students sometimes reacted to Ben: flinching, withdrawing, autonomically fearing him on some primal, evolutionary level. They knew he was a predator. They knew they were prey. It was chillingly similar to what I was feeling now.

I have to get out of here. I have to go home.

I shot to my feet. Oh, wrong move, that was too quick. I swayed, and Jessica reached up to steady me. “Are you—?!”

“I’m fine,” I said. “I gotta go home now.”

“What?! We just got here! Look, chill out, let me get you some vegan samosas or something—”

“No, seriously, I have to go.”

“Okay, okay,” Jessica conceded. “I’ll finish my drink and we’ll call an Uber, alright?”

“Really?” Bash asked, crestfallen.

“I’ll call an Uber,” I told Jess. “You stay, I’ll go.” Maybe she shouldn’t stay, I thought foggily, irrationally. Maybe it’s not safe.

“I can’t let you go alone. I got you drunk and now you’re a mess and if you end up murdered it would be my fault. There are unsolved mysteries going around, you know.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Girl, there’s no way I’m gonna—”

“I’ll call you as soon as I get in the Uber and I’ll stay on until I’m physically inside my house, okay?”

Jessica considered this. Bash leaned in to nibble her ear. I could smell the red wine and nicotine and animalistic lust sweating out of his pores. And unexpectedly, agonizingly: a biting flare, a muscle memory, Joe’s fingertips skimming down the small of my back and his scent like winter nights saturating the capillary beds of my lungs. Stop, stop, stop. “Okay,” Jess agreed at last.

“Awesome.” I was already opening the Uber app on my iPhone.

My driver was a Pacific Northwestern version of Santa Claus: wild grey beard, red flannel, L.L.Bean boots, rambling about his upcoming trip to hunt caribou in British Columbia. I honored my promise to Jessica and kept her on speakerphone for the duration of the twenty-minute drive. I rested my whirling head against the seat, let my eyes dip closed, watched the intermittent streetlights appear and disappear through my eyelids. I let myself into Charlie’s house when I arrived, wished Jessica goodnight (and reminded her not to get pregnant), and meandered clumsily into the kitchen for a glass of water and a cookie dough Pop-Tart to ward off a possible hangover. Charlie was snoring quietly on the living room couch. I watched him for a while, smiling and achingly grateful, before heading upstairs to my bedroom.

My window was wide open; that’s the first thing I noticed. I didn’t remember leaving it that way. I was always neglecting to lock the window, sure—I kept forgetting that there was no one to leave it unlocked for anymore—but I hadn’t left it open when I went to meet Jessica this evening. Icy night air flooded in. The stars were bright and furious in an uncommonly clear sky.

“You trying to give me pneumonia, old man?” I muttered, thinking of Charlie. I tossed my iPhone down onto my bed and crossed the room to close the window. And as it creaked and collided with the sill, I heard my closet door open behind me.

Someone’s here. Someone’s in this room with me.

I turned, very slowly; it felt like it took a lifetime. She was standing in the doorway of my closet, sinuous and white-haired, wearing black leather pants and stiletto heels and a long-sleeved lace blouse the color of blood, the color of her eyes. And she was harrowingly beautiful; not like Lucy or Mercy, not like Scarlett. She was beautiful like a prehistoric jawbone, like a serrated crescent moon, like a blade.

The owl. The goddamn albino owl.

I recognized her immediately. I heard Joe’s words as he introduced each vampire in the immense painting hanging in Dr. Lee’s upstairs office to me, though I desperately didn’t want to: She’s literally Satan, only blonder.

Her name tumbled from my trembling lips. “Liesl.”

“Wonderful, we can skip the introductions.” Her voice was like windchimes, cutting and brisk, with a hint of an Austrian accent like a shadow. Now she was at my bedside and picking up my phone, scrolling through it with lightning-quick and dexterous thumbs. “Hm. No texts from any of the Lees in the past week. So we don’t have to worry about them dropping by, I suppose. Joe got bored with you already, huh?”

“Evidently.” My own voice was brittle, anemic, weak; just like my ineffectual human body.

“That’s quick, even for him. How sad.” She sighed, tucking my iPhone into her red Chanel purse. “There’s a private jet waiting at the Forks Airport. Pack a bag. You have five minutes.”

“Please don’t hurt my dad,” I whispered, scalding tears brimming in my eyes.

“Of course not,” Liesl replied with a savage, saccharine smile. “Not yet, anyway.”

[the-cumberbatchs-stupid-penwing]

Prompt “See? this is why we never invite you to this things¨

(So, @sanitylegend send me a cool prompt for a BBC Sherlock´s fic, it was really fun to write!!)

*23/05*

"Sherlock?"

"Mmmh?"  The detective replied from the kitchen, he was working in one of his funny experiments

"listen, Apparently one of Greg's sons is a friend of Rosie's and he has invited her to his birthday party.”

“So?”

“Well, I have to stay late at the clinic that day and I can't take her ... I wanted to ask you to take her and keep an eye on her during the party”

“No.”

“Come on Sherlock, it’s only going to be for two hours”

Sherlock was about to refuse again but Rosie emerged from the living room jumping and exclaiming "Pleeeeease Sherlock, pleeease"

And Sherlock, although he didn't want to admit it, could refuse anyone except Rosie and when he saw how the little girl was excited at the idea of ​​him taking her to the birthday party, her heart melted ... a little

“Agh, fine fine, I’ll take her”

“Thank you so much, Sherlock, I really appreciate that,” said John with a warm smile in his face

“Yeiiiiii, Thank you, Sherlock,” said little Rosie while jumping around

—————————

*24/05*

"Well, I'd better be going, I don't want Rosie to be late to the nursery," John said as he closed his newspaper and got up from his chair

"After leaving work I'm going to stop by Tesco to buy some groceries and the birthday present, do you want something?"  He continues while taking Rosie by the hand

Sherlock was completely silent

"... ok, that’s a no then ... Well, Sherlock, I’ll see you after work ok?"  John grabbed his coat and walked out the front door

"Some Doritos," Sherlock exclaimed, but it was too late, John was already gone.

Sherlock got up from his chair to make tea when his phone vibrated, it was a message.  The number was an unknown number and the message: “A party huh?  sounds fun, see you there, Holmes ”

Sherlock froze, felt the blood on his face turn cold, whoever this person is, he was not only threatening the integrity of Sherlock, but also the safety of every kid at the children's party.  

Sherlock doubted if he should reply to the message, and decided that the most appropriate thing to do was to do it

"Who are you?  -SH "

" You know who I am, Sherlock "

" What do you want? -SH "

" John and Rosie are adorable don't you think?  it would be a shame if something happened to them”

"Sherlock, I'm back" Sherlock heard the sound of John's voice, he had completely lost track of time

"Hey Sherlock we are back" repeated the little Rosie "Hey Watson," Sherlock said while  lifted her in his arms

Sherlock doubted if he should tell John, but decided it was not worth worrying about, it was surely nothing he couldn’t handle

—————

*26/04 -morning*

"Sherlock please don't forget, the party is at 6:30, the address is on the table"

"You worry too much John, I can surely take care of a child" Sherlock replied

"Yes, dad, you worry too much” Rosie repeated as if she were a little parrot.

John sighed “Ok, I'll see you when my shift ends, okay?  have fun, both of you ”

John grabbed his coat and gave Rosie a little kiss on the forehead, then went out trying the front door

“ Well, what do you want to do now, Watson? ”  Sherlock asked the little girl

"Can we wrap the gift?"  Rosie replied

"At your command, Captain"

Sherlock felt increasingly anxious, the message he had received was very worrying but he did not want to ruin the party for Rosie so he decided to keep his feelings and continue with the plan

——————-

*26/04 -Afternoon*

John was on duty at the clinic, it was almost 7:30 at night when he received a phone call, it was Greg

“Hello?  Greg? ”  

"IM ABOUT TO KILL SHERLOCK"

"Wow, slow down mate, what happened?"

"DO YOU WANNA KNOW ?!  the bastard here just broke, YES BROKE, my son’s birthday cake in half, hinting that inside the cake was a damn bomb, oh god my wife is going to murder me”

“ What ?! ”  

"Yes John as you hear it, I have 20 damn kids crying scared because Sherlock lost his damn head!"

"Oh god, I'm on my way, I'll be there in about 20 minutes, I'm so sorry, Greg."

having already picked up Sherlock and Rosie and after having practically diluted himself in apologizing to Greg, John lost it

"What the hell happened there, Sherlock ?!"

“I’ll tell you, daddy, It was soooo awesome” Rosie answered between chuckles

“Uncle Sherlock gave Timmy his gift and started searching all the presents on the table, suddenly all the colour paper was in the air, like little snowflakes, it was so pretty!”

John looked at Sherlock who was facing the car’s window

”Rosie, I think your dad got the idea,” Sherlock said to Rosie on a desperately tried to appease John's anger

”But Sherlock, it was so cool! Like when you and the clown started to play together on the floor! I think you won when his nose flew away from his face”  

”Play...Sherlock Holmes did you attacked a clown?!” John asked while he was squeezing the wheel. Sherlock noticed his anger and turned to Rosie on the back seat “Did you had fun?”

“yes! It was the best birthday party ever!”

Sherlock turned again facing the from while saying “Well, in the end, that’s what matters”

John took a long sigh and said “you really have to explain to me this, I hope there is a reason behind your...destructive behaviour”

“Of course there is a reason, John”

“This is why we never invite you to these things, Sherlock,” John said with a tiny smile on his face

[giovaenna]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 (𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟒) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

“ I feel rotten about telling you this. “ “ I've got some bad news. ” “ You looked after me like a father. ” “ Take this to your family. ” “ I’m not interested in things that don't concern me. “ “ You still have my goods ? “ “ It would be a present, I know how to return a favor. “ “ This is a real palace. “ “ Sit down, make yourself comfortable. “ “ Good health is the most important thing. “ “ I came here because there's going to be more bloodshed. “ “ Nobody wants another war. “ “ When i refused, he tried to have me killed. “ “ He was stupid, I was lucky. “ “ I'll visit him soon. “ “ The important thing is that nothing interferes with our plans for the future. “ “ You're a wise and considerate young man. “ “ There's much I can learn from you. “ “ What we'll do in the next few months will make history. “ “ He's small potatoes. “ “ Is something wrong? “ “ I wish you would have let me know you were coming, I could have prepared something. “ “ I didn't want you to know I was coming. “ “ I want you to help me take my revenge. “ “ I don't have your brain for big deals, but this is a street thing. “ “ I remember when I was a kid, we had to be quiet when we played near here. “ “ My father taught me many things here. He taught me in this room. “ “ Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. “ “ Will he come alone? “ “ You guys lied to me, I don't want you to call me anymore. “ “Close the fucking door ! “ “ What's the matter? “ “ You open the fucking bar I'll blow your head in. “ “ When I woke up I was on the floor, and I donit know how it happened. “ “ jesus, jesus. “ “ I dont know and i dont understand why, i can't remember. “ “ I'll speak to him. “ “ The doctors would disagree, but what do they know? “ “I saw an interesting thing happen today. “ “ It occurred to me, the soldiers were paid to fight. The rebels weren't. “ “ What I wouldn't give for twenty more years. “ “ I’m kind of nervous from the trip. Can I get a drink or something? “ “ It's not easy to be a son. “ “ How do you say bana daquiri ? “ “ Can i trust you with something? “ “ Before i reach my hotel, i'll be assassinated. “ “ He thinks he's gonna live forever. “ “ Someone put a bullet through his eye. No one knows who gave the order. “ “ i love you, but don’t ever take sides against the family again. ever. “ “ I didnt ask who gave the order because it had nothing to do with business. “ “When i wake, if the moneys on the table i'll know i have a partner. If it isnt, i'll know i dont. “ “ I know it was you, [name]. You broke my heart. “ “ You're still my brother. “ “ Where's my brother? “ “ Young man, i hear you and your friends are stealing goods “ “ You and your friends should show me some respect. “ “ You young punks have to learn how to respect a man like me ! “ “ The cops will show up at your house and your family will be ruined. “ “ Of course if I’m wrong about how much you stole - I’ll take a little less. “ “ Tell your friends i don’t want a lot , just enough to keep my mouth shut. “ “ Why should we give him the money we sweated for? “ “ I’ll reason with him. “ “ I never lie to my friends. “ “ Tell him you'll pay him whatever he wants, dont argue with him. Then i'll go and get him to agree. “ “ Just remember that i did you a favor. “ “ I'll make an offer he won't refuse. “ “ I’m short of money right now. I’ve been out of work so... give me a little time. “ “ How come I’ve never heard of you before? “ “ You’ve got a lot of guts. “ “ You’ve done well for yourself. “ “ [Name], your father loves you so much. “ “ We called it a family. “ “ At first like everybody else, I was a soldier. “ “ When the boss says push a button on a guy, I push a button. “ “ No, i never talked to him. “ “ You may find this very amusing but i promise you the members of this committee do not. “ “ He was being strong for his family. “ “ By being strong for his family, could he lose it? “ “ You can never lose your family. “ “ Times are changing. “ “ It’s my pleasure, i dont want money. Take it as a gift. “ “ If theres something i can do for you, you come, we talk. “ “ [Name], why did you come to see me? “ “ He said he'd get the police to throw me out on the street. “ “ Who the hell are you to come give me orders? “ “ Do me this favor, I wont forget it. “ “ Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me, they'll tell you I know how to return a favor. “ “ Im giving back the money you gave me. “ “ Your kindness made me feel ashamed of myself. “ “ Can i offer you coffee? “ “ He won't be back. “ “ It was a term used by his friends. One of attention and respect. “ “ They have honored me with their support and friendship. “ “It would be a shame if we allowed a few rotten apples to give a bad name to the whole barrel. “ “ They are the salt of the earth and the backbones of this country. “ “ i hope they will have the decency to clear my name with the same publicity with which they have besmirched it. “ “ Well, just get a good night's sleep. “ “ Tomorrow... my life wont be worth more than a nickel after tomorrow. “ “ You’ve got a great home here, for the rest of your life. “ “ You'll live like a king. You’ll be a hero. “ “ How did they get their hands on him? “ “ He thought you double crossed him. “ “ Our detectives said he was half dead, scared stiff calling out that you'd turned on him. “ “ I havent got a lot to say, [name]. “ “ What about now? Is there anything you can help me out with? “ “ I didn't know it was gonna be a hit. I swear to God i didn’t know. “ “ He said there was something in it for me if i could help him out. “ “ He said that you were being tough on the negotiations. “ “ It would be good for the family. “ “ He said it would be good for the family. “ “ And you believed that story? You believed that? “ “ He said there was something in it for me, on my own. “ “ I’ve alway taken care of you. “ “ Did you ever think about that? Did you ever once think about that? “ “ It ain't the way I wanted it ! “ “ I can handle things, I’m smart. Not like everybody says. “ “ You’re nothing to me now. Not a brother, not a friend. I don’t want to know you, or what you do. “ “ There’s more people than at a ballgame here! “ “ I have my own family. “ “ But it was all lies, everything. “ “ So I said yeah, sure why not. “ “ There are some things id like to talk to you about. “ “ What really happened with [name]? “ “ Where is he now? “ “ I had nothing to do with it. “ “ You’ve become blind! “ “ I don’t want to hear about it “ “ At this moment i feel no love for you at all. “ “ I never thought that would happen, but it has. “ “ We leave tomorrow. “ “ [Name], you haven’t heard me. “ “ In time, you'll think differently. “ “ I know what that meant to you. I'll make it up to you. “ “ I’ve learned that I have the strength to change. “ “ I had it killed because this must all end. “ “ I know now that it’s over. I knew it then. “ “ There would be no way you could ever forgive me. “ “ I'd like to stay close to home now, if it’s alright. “ “ I hated you for so many years. “ “ I think that I did things to myself, to hurt myself, so that you'd know that I could hurt you. “ “ You were just being strong for all of us. “ “ I forgive you. “ “ Can't you forgive [name] ? “ “ Our business friend and partner is in the news. “ “ He's only got six months anyways. “ “ It would be like trying to kill the president, theres no way we can get to him. “ “ If anything in this life is certain, if history has taught us anything - it’s that you can kill anyone. “ “ Is it worth it? You’ve won, do you want to wipe everybody out? “ “ I don’t feel I have to wipe everybody out. Just my enemies, that’s all. “ “ I've always been loyal to you. What is this? “ “ Every time i put a line in the water I said a Hail Mary, and every time I said a Hail Mary I caught a fish. “ “ He's ten times tougher than me. Old fashioned. “ “ We were like the roman empire. “ “ When a plot against the emperor failed, the plotters were always given a chance to let their families keep their fortunes. “ “ The little guys, they got knocked off. “ “ [Name], kiss your mama goodbye. “ “ Mother of God, pray for us sinners. “ “ You break your father's heart on his birthday. “ “ Your country ain’t your blood. “

[bittersweetmelxdy]

HI! I saw your requests were open so im taking the chance to ask if you could make a headcanon for the boys about dating a mc whomst really needy and clingy who likes being around their s/o 24/7 hugging and kissing them, showing affection in general uwu.

I honestly believe that none of the boys find this an issue, because of how much they love you (and they all have some level of tragic backstory). But all in all I hope you enjoy the headcannons. And I probably don’t say this enough but seriously, if you find any mistakes (factually, not gramatically, bc it it’s grammar based I won’t fix it, bc I will never have perfect grammar, I just do my best), please please please tell me, I would love to learn, especially if it’s a cultural aspect bc I just love to learn about places and cultures and time periods. :)

Victor:

Victor notices that your often right by his side during meetings, you are either sitting next to him at the boardroom table, or if you were standing, you were always so close that your arm brushed his suit jacket.  

He never mentioned it, but he knew for meetings that if he had to leave you be by yourself, he would always squeeze your hand tightly in his, or your upper arm if your hand was unavailable and he would tell you exactly where he was going, and leave with a “I’ll be back soon, wait for me.”  

The fact that you were so clingy actually put Victor’s mind at ease during business trips where he couldn’t take you along with him. You would always call him in the morning and at night before you went to bed, no matter what time you needed to wake up to call Victor, you would do it.  

He remembered his mother, how she left for France one day and never came back, and Victor loved the fact that you were actively waiting for him to come back, and you missing him when he left not only kept him grounded because he was always reminded of how much you loved him, but it also motivated him to finish his work as quickly as possible, so he could fly home to you.

At home, when you shyly asked him to install a chair and desk in his office so you could work in the same room, fidgeting with your sleeves, he had smiled softly at you, and that weekend the two of you had gone shopping for the items.

He liked the fact that when he was working at his desk in his office, he could just look up and see you working hard also. You also liked to sit at the island in the kitchen whilst you watched him cook, and no matter how much he teased you, he liked having you there to taste, or sometimes you even stood behind him, arms around his waist, and your nose nuzzling between his shoulder blades, when you did that his heart skipped a beat.

You often felt a little needy, due to insecurity, and when you finally broke down in front of Victor, telling him your worries and he grumbled about it half-heartedly telling you that you were an idiot for having these issues, but that would never stop him from pulling into his office, the elevator, into his lap and kissing you soundly until all doubts flew from your mind.

So, all in all he loved it, because your presence just became a constant in his life, but you still knew when to stop and how much distance to maintain in serious situations. He would never change you, no matter how much his tsundere personality acts around you. He had found you, fate had given the two of you a second chance, and Victor really didn’t care that you were “needy” or “clingy”, to him those words, when they were attached to you, could never be anything but positive.

Lucien:

Lucien knew you were clingy, and he welcomed it, he lives right next to you, so when even before the two of you lived together, if you mentioned on a date that you “didn’t want him to leave just yet”, he would happily waltz into apartment with you and spend the night with you.  

Lucien tells you all the time to call him if you can’t sleep, and when you do, he always smiles at seeing your name on his phone, before answering, smiles still painted on his lips. He would stay on the phone with you, long after you fall asleep, just listening to you breathe as it clams him knowing that your safe and you trust him enough to fall asleep around him. It’s even better when you video call him (because sometimes you just need to see his face, you told him), because he can just watch you sleep, eyes soft in affection.

He actually finds it funny when you stand, back to his chest, and you draw his lab coat around the two of you, and you tilt your head back to smile at him. So whenever you go to spend your lunch break at the research centre, he often makes you wear his lab coat when you sit on his lap to feed him. He relishes in the fact that you sniff the inside lab coat (because it still has his cologne on it), and then you snuggle yourself in the white fabric, a serene smile on your lips.

Whenever you feel like you need a kiss from Lucien, you squeeze his hand or his arm, and he will pull you into the next available corner or dark space and kiss you deeply, no shame. 

Whenever you go to parties for scientists (lol I don’t know the proper name for them), you will stand both hands on one of his arms the whole evening, and if Lucien notices your anxiety getting the best of you, he will draw you into his embrace, hands on your hips and just stand there whilst you breathe, knowing that his presence is the best remedy for you.

Lucien loves the fact that your neediness causes you to actively seek him out, because he knows when he was Ares and was working with the BSC he hurt you in ways only time can fix, so whenever you can see him withdraw, you pull him back to the present where you love him. Lucien often uses that to ground him to the here and now, you are his anchor in the midst of the storm, and if he will take your clinginess if it means he can have your heart.

Kiro:

Have you seen this sunshine boy, he lights up when you admit you are clingy, literally squeezes you tightly in his arms, saying “Miss Chips, you can be as needy as you want, Superhero Kiro is here for you!”  

Savin has no problem with you hanging around backstage, or in Kiro’s dressing room when you felt a little lonely, but the day you publicly announced your relationship he did have a set list of guidelines for both you and Kiro to follow whilst out in the public eye, “Just to avoid unnecessary scandal”.

You nodded sadly, realising that your behaviour might cause Kiro problems whilst at work, and you spent the whole rest of the evening, arms wrapped around Kiro, knowing the reason why you were sad Kiro held you against his chest and sang to you soothingly, pressing kisses to your hair.

Since that day, you made a tradition with Kiro that at least one evening a week the two of you would spend the night just cuddling together under a mountain of blankets.  

You tended to spoil Kiro with your affectionate nature, and he preened about it, having you be so clingy and affectionate towards him, it made him feel needed, that you needed all of him, not just the part that sings and dances and acts, and that fact often helped quell his insecurities.

Honestly sometimes he’s just as clingy as you, when he’s had a bad day at the studio or he just gets so het up he can’t function, he go looking for you (doesn’t have to look far, you make sure to at the very least always be in the same room as him when you can), and he just wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair and just breathes you in, feeling the day just melt away from him until there’s nothing left he can feel but you.

If he’s trying to write a new song, he does like his space to pace and think aloud, so he can be a little short with you if you try and keep him in one place, or you’re doing something noisy that distracts him (although sometimes just your presence is an adequate enough distraction for him), but you know he doesn’t love you any less, and you know when to give him space to work.

Kiro is so the type to kiss you whenever he sees you, the type of casual kissing where he kisses you when he leaves/enters the room, when you leave/enter the room, to say hello, to say goodbye, Kiro kisses you as frequently and as naturally as he breathes, so you never felt like you had be needy to get a kiss because Kiro always made sure you felt loved.

Kiro often joked that fulfilling your “affection-quota”, was just another of his superhero duties, but he loved that you were so comfortable with him that you acted this way, because when he was with you, he wasn’t the perfect Kiro the media wanted him to be where he couldn’t make mistakes, he was the perfect Kiro that made mistakes but you loved all of him anyway. Besides, loving you made every day an adventure, so a little clinginess, wasn’t even an issue to him.

Gavin:

I’ve said this before, Gavin loves you, he breathes for you, but because of his emotional baggage, the cold harsh treatment of his family, how they treated him in high school, it does affect him, on an emotional and mental level, as shown by the fact he doesn’t have preferences for things, and he’s never celebrated his birthday.  

So, when you became clingy, needy and just wanting to be around him, he melted in a puddle of devotion to you, to know you need him is a gift beyond his wildest dreams. Gavin’s smooth with his words, (just look at his dates and his texts for proof), and when you and him got together it was like a dam burst inside him, he poured out all the emotion he had bottled up for you.

Literally as soon as the two of you are at home, Gavin will pick you up, your legs hooked around his waist and he will just carry you around the apartment, only putting you down when absolutely necessary (like to change clothes, or cook dinner, etc), he then will sit of the sofa, you straddling his lap and will bury his head in your chest, unloading his day onto you as you stroked his hair.  

Every time you need something from him affection-wise, the two of you had developed a secret signal, you would tug on his shirt once and he would just look down at you and smile before pulling you into his embrace, no matter where you were (except when he was in uniform, he did have a reputation to protect).  

Whenever he needed to do something, and you were being too clingy, Gavin would press kisses all over your face, before the final one landed solidly on your lips, before he would pull back looking into your glazed eyes and warn you that he needed to do something and he needed some space.

Gavin was only this soft with you, and although he used your clinginess as an excuse to shower you with all the affection he could humanely give. You knew that the reason was truly that Gavin, ever since his mother had passed away, had never been allowed the affection or even companionship from the people who were supposed to love him unconditionally, and now he had you, he was going to make sure you knew just how he needed to be around his love even more than you did.

[bladengineer]

Bladebreakers: College Edition

anyone who’s already read my fics knows exactly what i’m about, so lets get straight to business about the college headcanons im about to slap yall with

also all under the cut bc this went way too long lmfao Hilary and Kenny should follow shortly bc it got really long and im just. oops

Kai is the first to go which is like. logical considering he’s the oldest and most driven out of all of them

not to mention he had the entirety of Hiwatari Corp. about to be put into his name as soon as he reached 18 and he’s just like aw man here we go

to be honest? he’s not keen on taking over the company, never has been (excluding the time where he felt obligated to under his grandfather’s influence) and the thought of actually having too just kinda. embitters him

so he gets himself sucked into the whole Business classes to get himself the necessary qualifications – and despite being bitter, he doesn’t half-ass shit so he studies on the regular

it isn't until Max wrangles him into finally giving his own interests a go and he changes his path to a History Major with a Minor in Business

he is so much happier

History, specifically Ancient History, had always been an avid interest in Kai’s books so he basically dives into his new studies with his own brand of stoic enthusiasm

its also the sole reason why he’s been amassing so many books in his personal collection at home, Hilary had implored him to buy bigger shelves after Max nearly broke his neck tripping over a loose pile

Kai likes to study alone, preferably in his private study (Tyson keeps making fun of him for having a private study at the age of 18, what are you, a grandpa? damn rich kid lmao) with soft instrumental music playing – he’s especially fond of rainy ambience music

of course, Kai is often seated at the back of the classes, but is indisputably one of the best students with very insightful and well-researched essays, naturally, most of his professors adore him

except a select few traditional-minded professors – they’re still bitter that Kai stood his ground when they had overlooked Cleopatra’s history and reduced her to the Ancient Sex Symbol and Kai was ready to cut a bitch at the blatant disrespect towards an Ancient Political Mastermind

the majority in his class has a fat crush on him but thats nothing new

Max, for a long time, had a bit of a dilemma as his parents urge him to start choosing his preferred path; was it going to be Engineering like his Mother or Mechanics like his Father, and honestly? the poor boy was so torn

in the end, he confessed he wanted to do neither – he loved Beyblade but it wasn’t something he wanted to dedicate his life to forever

instead, his heart had always belonged to the ocean and he dreams of being a Marine Biologist

his father was very supportive, while Judy had her doubts so it took a little convincing – in the end, her son’s joy was more important to her and she too gave her blessing for him to pursue his dream

Max goes on to major Zoology, directed towards marine animals, and takes up a minor in Engineering because hey, it pretty much runs in his family and it stayed an avid interest of his

his university wasn’t too far of from Kai’s own, so sometimes when he stays over at Kai’s he gets a free ride to class

he returns the gesture by always providing the best butter croissants for breakfast (they’re still warm too!)

Max usually studies in the campus library, noise-cancelling headphones on, bopping silently to whatever music he’s listening to as he reviews his notes for the next exam

he researches a lot for his topics and has collected so much trivia about the ocean and its inhabitants in general

Max: did you know jellyfishes have no brain? Kai: Max don’t bully Tyson Tyson: excuse me?

the professors love Max tbh, he’s always fully engaged within class so they usually let him get away with things mainly bc he’s just their Favourite

pretty sure half of the university knows of Max in some way or another, being a social butterfly and all and maybe having flooded the campus once by accident

Ray also had a hard time deciding what to do and what to study; being from a rural village with traditions certainly made him question wether he should pursue a modern career or stay within his community

the White Tigers were quick to kick his ass over it however, booting him straight to Kai’s doorstep and telling him to do what he feels was right for him

now, he’s managed to get himself applied to one of the prestigious university for culinary arts – he’s not too sure yet which path he wants to take in terms of culinary skill

he loves cooking and working in a kitchen, however after many work experiences he has found that working at the command of someone else wasn't exactly to his tastes, not to mention, he’d like to dabble in more traditional culinary arts

as of now, Ray particularly enjoys the sweeter side of cooking, preferring to create intricate pastries and confectionaries, often stemming from his chinese roots but also applying his skill within the japanese side of things

his homemade mooncakes are honestly to die for

next to his obvious passion for cooking, he’s also taken up classes in horticulture, mainly bc he’d love to grow his own ingredients and create his own sets of spices and various artisan products

since his career path is very labour focused, he often practices at home and takes inspiration from various chefs all around the world. his bookshelves are full of recipe books and general insightful cookbooks

Max had suggested to him to make videos of his dishes, mainly for self-improvement, but also being able to put them online to start a crowd interest for his work

its going pretty well actually, his videos have become quite popular since they are aesthetically pleasing, the food looks tasty as hell and also a wide crowd of older people have voiced their joy in seeing more traditional confectionary being made

his friends secretly love their birthdays nowadays bc without fail, Ray always gifts them homemade foods, from neat boxes of handcrafted chocolates to cute jars of sweet jams

he knows, he always takes time to create flavours he knows they will appreciate

Tyson, surprisingly, knew exactly what he wanted to do, and it wasn’t anything to do with Beyblade

Hilary: WHAT ARE YOU SICK Tyson: i- no? i just– Ray: hold on maybe he’s running a fever Tyson: would yOU GUYS JUST LISTEN–

look, he loves Beyblade, it’s something he’ll treasure all his life, something he’ll still pursue in the future, but

it won’t be what he wants to do full time

instead, he majors in Anthropology in order to pave his way into Archeology and everyone is so proud they start crying

next to his Major, he also minors in Business, mainly due to his longstanding position within the BBA, with whom he stays as a particular poster boy and star

next to his work with the BBA, he occasionally helps out in the Dojo and everyone kinda realises? that this guy is literally holding down two (2) whole jobs while also studying and if that isn't hardcore my dudes i don’t know

then again, he’s grown a lot and his interest in his father’s career had always accompanied him since he was a kid – however, his studying habits are still all kinds of atrocious and the only reason why he can even halfway ace his exams is bc he refuses to go down quietly, actually is really critical and analytical is he puts his head into it, and the fact that he employs Hilary to stand vigil with a rolled up magazine to smack him back into focus should he slack off

otherwise, he’s friends with most people in his class and regularly exchanges notes with them and even has become a favourite with a select few of his professors

most just find him exhausting but can’t refute his elaborate essays, which are both thoughtful as eyebrow raising

he attends the same university as Kai (much to his chagrin) and they stick together just as much as they bicker (one-sidedly) just like old times – however, they are both ancient history buffs and its one of the very few topics that they can be heard talking about in actual peace without Tyson going apeshit when Kai loses interest in the conversation

Tyson and Kai are also those college students who pull ridiculous all nighters to study

Max once got so nervous for an exam he made a terrifying concoction of Red Bull and Instant Coffee to stay up and study

he aced the exam but he cannot for the life of him remember what he did in those 24hours bc as soon as he went home he crashed for nearly 32hours straight

Tyson and Ray who were present at the time refuse to speak about it and when asked about it, they kinda just. disassociate for a minute at the sheer horror they had witnessed

Kai rarely ever communicates with classmates yet somehow gets always invited to all the frat parties

who are those people? he doesn’t know

[florcnces]

HEY HENS ! my name’s nat & today i present to you the one, the only ... ms florence ! under the cut you’ll find a few bits & pieces i’ve come up w/ so far just so ... u kno ... we can plot or whateva 😏😏😏so if u want me to shower you w/ love, feel free to drop a big, fat LIKE or im me 😏😏😏also ... if u read this thru u will notice that ... i gave up somewhere in the middle of it ...

new york’s very own 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐃 was spotted on broadway street in 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐀'𝐒  𝐁𝐁𝐒 . your resemblance to 𝐒𝐘𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐘  𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐘 is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 - 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋 , but also 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 . i guess being a 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋  𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 ,  𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐄 - 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄  𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐒  &  𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅 - 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒  𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐄 . ( i seduced the director to get my first big movie role. )  &  ( cis-gendered female & she / her  ) 

𝐢. 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐬 

name : florence noel brassard

dob / age : may 22nd, 1996 / twenty - two

hometown : paris , france

occupation : actress

aesthetics : pearl necklaces , femme-fatale movies , half-used bottles of perfume , lavender bouquets & satin sheets

positive traits : nurturing , logical , self-motivated , thoughtful 

negative traits : vengeful , scornful , two-faced , devious 

likes :  morning runs , feeling accomplished , freckles , seltzer water , blueberry yogurt , random picnics

dislikes : not getting attention , impulsive decisions , being late , not taking care of herself , mess all over the place , loud voices

𝐢𝐢. 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 

baby florence was born & raised in new york city and was immediately thrown into the world of luxury - there literally was no other outcome when your parents appeared to be, like, one of the most powerful couple in the fashion industry, owning a huge chunk of loewe, lv, berluti and etc (so basically think like antoine arnault & natalia vodianova as her parents ... thnx xxxx)

with everything being handed to the girl on a silver platter, flo’s childhood was as boring as it could be. ‘ want to attend ballet classes? we’ll arrange private ones for you with the nycb principals.’ / ‘ can’t find a dress for the event we’re throwing? here’s five custom gowns to choose from, honey. ’ / ‘ there’s a scratch on your shoes; here’s a credit card, go buy yourself three new pairs. ’ / so, basically, tl;dr, they spoiled her ROTTEN

not gonna like, flo had a phase of being a bratty, greedy & ungrateful bih at the age of 13-15 because of the people she surrounded herself with & in order to fit in, she had to have like the best of the best. tho it wasn’t like she hadn’t had any of those things already - she just started taking advantage of her parents’ generosity. it took cutting her allowance down to the minimum for a few months and a few serious conversations to get a confession out of florence and to get her to understand that people should consider your their friends for your personality and not your bank account. so basICALLY she loves her parents v v v much & treasures the relationship they built over the years.

by the time she finished high school, she was v much set on the idea of creating a name for herself. starting a business wasn’t an option bc of how influential her parents were; sports weren’t an option either bc she didn’t have any exceptional talents (fun fact: she tried out for the cheerleading team for 3 yrs in a row only to not make the cut every single time which led to her crying at lunch ... ): #poorbby). being an influencer didn’t sound right to her either, so she went with the option that probably fit her the most - the julliard ! 

it was quite hard getting in there, mostly due to the fact that people there didn’t exactly understand why florence wanted to get into acting. it wasn’t like she needed any additional buzz to her name or more a-list events to be in attendance of, so she did have to prove that she was noth talented & sincerely interested in pursuing the career. however, it wasn’t the hardest thing she had to do to actually become the person she is today.

studying at the julliard wasn’t enough bc it didn’t make it any easier for flo to get a role. she tried her absolute damndest, used every connection she had -- yet, nothing was working. & since going to her papa for her was in no way, shape or form an option, she resorted to the worst.

bc she knew her mother was always in charge of organizing charity galas and whatnot, florence made sure to check out a list of invitees and, much to her sheer luck, she found a few familiar names of actresses and directors who rsvp’d to the event already. the night of the gala was spent with florence circling the room, looking and acting as gorgeous and charming as ever, but nothing seemed to be working bc everyone were either uninterested or just wanted her to get their name to her parents (& that wasn’t an option). however, at the end of the night she found the one. the one who lit up her star.

she didn’t go into it without thinking all of her options. she spent weeks flitring w/ the guy, going on dates and accepting gifts - everything to make it seem as if she was truly interested in him as a person. she laughed at his jokes, enjoyed his embraces - at some point, she even felt as if she could actually end up loving him. however, the moment he offered her the role of her life (plS one day i’ll actually properly headcanon that ish ... but not rn i proMISE!), whatever feelings (or whatever resembled them ...) immediately vanished.

so ! currently bby florence is basking in the newfound limelight and making sure to move further in her career... without having to resort to seducing middle-aged dudes... :-)

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 

florence, like i said, isn’t exactly a multi-talented skinny legend. yea, she’s decent at skating, somewhat good at singing, is quite beautiful - nothing out of the ordinary, hence why she sometimes struggles with her confidence. and by sometimes i mean A LOT of times. but if u think she’d ever show it U R SO WRONG BABE. usually whenever she falls into her self-called pit of uncertainty and lack of confidence, florence resorts to dressing up as nicely as she can and going to the first bar that comes to her head to get a drink and attract as much attention as she can. 

she also finds comfort in cooking. sure, with her daddy’s money she could eat out for breakfast, lunch, dinner and everything in between,  but there’s something incredibly comforting in taking the time to cook something for herself. besides, she is very fond of the memories of her mother teaching her how to cook. and the times they’ve accidentally burned the food bc they were too busy talking abt random things :’) like bby can actually make a MEAN kedgeree !!!

since her father is french and her mother is american, florence is bilingual. she prefers speaking french over english purely bc of the beauty of the language, so sometimes she might just switch languages mid-sentence.

florence is also ambidextrous due to the fact that she broke her arm when she was 7 and had to wear a cast for a longer period of time since the bones couldn’t heal properly :-)

also ... v much a dog person. like, cats? EW, don’t talk to her. don’t even think of calling her KITTEN bc u will ... get ur ass handed to u

always and i mean ALWAYS !!!! wears a pearl necklace on her neck that her father gave her for her 18th birthday. and just hella obsessed w/ pearls and flowers. iDK why she just is ...

𝐢𝐯. 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

obv !!! a best friend ? like, that typical ride-or-die situation where they wouldn’t hesitate to catch the bullet for the other person

maybe a friend / some friends from high school ? either they were the ones pressuring flo to take advantage of finer things and daddy’s money or ... flo could have left them for those ppl

a rival ... who had their eyes on the role florence landed ... and now there’s just a ton of anger and distaste towards each other

exes / one night stands / flirtations ... :-)

[morinokunikara]

Kissing prompt 1 for Miles/Phoenix?

Aaa im so on the fence abt this one tbh ;; ill at least post it here tho

Trucy’s birthday was the same as it had been the past couple years-try as he might, there wasn’t very much Phoenix could do. Trucy had talked and talked and talked about this fancy magic kit she saw at the store but, no matter how hard he tried, Phoenix just couldn't save up enough He felt as guilty as ever that he couldn’t give his daughter everything she deserved, but at least she seemed to be happy with what little they had. She cheerfully twirled around in the new dress he got her, blissfully unaware that the dress was from a second-hand store. Despite his feelings, seeing Trucy so happy with what she had made Phoenix smile. No matter how difficult things got financially, they had each other, and that mattered more than any material possession he could give her.

The knock at the door came as a bit of a surprise to him, but even more surprising was who was at the door when he opened it. "Edgeworth?" He stood there, completely baffled by the sudden visit. He stepped aside to allow the other in despite his surprise. To add to the list of surprises, Miles was holding a gorgeously wrapped gift.

"Mister Edgeworth!" Trucy ran to greet Miles, twirling in front of him to show her dress off. "Look at what Daddy got me! Isn't it pretty?"

Miles smiled. "You look very nice, Trucy. If memory serves correctly, today is your birthday, isn't it?" Trucy nodded excitedly, her eyes focused on the package in Miles' hands. "Now, why wasn't i invited to this little party? Worried I would ruin the fun?"

Phoenix rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought you'd be busy with work..." he muttered.

"Now, Wright. You should know I can always make time for the two of you." Miles said as he knelt down to hand Trucy her gift, which she immediately took to the couch to unwrap.

As soon as the paper was torn away, Trucy squealed in delight. "Thank you thank you thank you, Mister Edgeworth!!!" She ran to hug Miles before running back to show off her gift. "Daddy, look!! It's the magic kit I was telling you about!!" She bounced excitedly around the room. "You have to let me practice some and then I'll show you the best show ever!!" And with that, she ran off to test out her new gift.

Miles stayed for the show, which went wonderfully, and then for cake and ice cream, and even stayed as Trucy dozed off to sleep with her head in Phoenix's lap as they watched her favorite movies.

"You didn't have to do this, you know," Phoenix said said once he was certain Trucy was asleep. "Coming here, the gift...I know how busy you are with work. You didn't have to go out of your way for us." There was a certain strain to his voice, as if he was holding something back.

Miles moved closer at looked Phoenix directly in the eyes. "True, I didn't have to. But with how much you've done for me, it's the very least I should be doing."

"But you shouldn't have to," Phoenix's voice became more strained. "If I were half the father Trucy deserves, I could handle this on my own. I could give her what she deserves without any help." His voice broke as he started to sob quietly tears welling in his eyes.

"Phoenix Wright," Miles took Phoenix's face into his hands. "If there's one thing you've taught me, it's that no one has to face their troubles alone." He kissed the other's forehead. "You are a wonderful father, but you can't expect yourself to do it all on your own." He thumbed away some tears from Phoenix's cheek and kissed it. "I came here because I wanted to help you. Because I see how much you're struggling and it hurts. You're always helping people who are alone, people that have no one else. So please, let me help you too." He kissed Phoenix's other cheek, then his forehead again, and let him cry, wiping and kissing away his tears until he calmed down.

"You're too good to me, Miles," Phoenix said once he calmed down.

"Nonsense. If anything, it's the other way around," Miles assured.

Phoenix rested one of his hands on top of Miles' and leaned in to press his forehead against the other's. "Miles...we've been doing this for years. Acting like some married couple, but continuing on like nothing eber happened afterwards... How long are we going to dance around these feelings like a couple of teenagers?" He asked softly.

"I believe you may have just answered that question yourself," Miles replied with a smile.

Trucy was first to wake up the next morning, and smiled as she saw Miles asleep with his head on Phoenix's shoulder, Phoenix's arm wrapped around Miles' waist, both with such peaceful expressions on their face.

She really had the best dads anyone could ask for.

[dccrossmusic-blog]

Well that'a a wrap- the D.C Cross Ecstatic Racquet album tour is complete! Thank you so much to all my new fans and old fans for the support! It was a lot of fun. I probably drove more than 10000 kms for the 9 shows- which is mental..it was all good until the car broke down in Albury on the weekend- keep reading and you can hear about the drama of the last 48 hours in point form!

Thanks to all the nice people, other musicians and venues and sound people and bar people at the places i played at. All thank you for the free beers, dinners and when people let me stay at the venue or their homes for free. Super mega thank you to Dusty Attic Music Lounge , Howl & Moan Records, Petersham Bowling Club, Plantbased Wholefoods, The Merri Creek Tavern , Franks Wild Years, Mounties and the Bridge Hotel Castlemaine (which is impossible to tag on Facebook).

So everyone is always crapping on about stuff that happens to them on social media but the last 48hours of my tour was quite eventful and i think entertaining for others. Here in point form i will mention the unfolding of the events.

Saturday 3pm Show in Thirroul - Sunday 3pm Show in Castlemaine, Victoria - a bit of driving (about 1700 kms there and back to Sydney) but pretty straight forward- right..what could possibility go right :/

•drive from Marrickville to Thirroul - so far so good

• play a cosy show to some nice people at Franks' Wild Years- very impressed german guy says that i am a beautiful musician and play the guitar like John Frusciante from the Chill Peppers - Brad other founding original member of Gerling comes to the show-a wonderful gesture of support

•Finish show in Thirroul and with a broken GPS head on the drive to Castlemaine, Victoria (about 845km's).

•Get tailgated on the Bulli Pass by some tradie fuckhead- a bit of an anxious 10 minutes but make it okay - our faithful 2004 Holden still seems to be okay.

•Drive for 5 hours on route to Albury as its more than halfway.

•100 kms out of Albury car starts shaking uncontrollably - i thought it was just the Hume Highway - so just cranked AC/DC and LANKUM new album on the distorted car stereo.

•60 km's nearer Albury situation with car gets worse- now know it was a busted CV crankshaft (no idea) and apparently quite dangerous

•Navigate car into Albury and call road side assistance. Sounds like i get a drunk Andrew Jackson Calvert type guy on the phone who relishes in the fact he can say that they can't help me and can tow the vehcile to a mechanic on Monday morning. It's 9.30 Pm Saturday night

•Find the cheapest accom in Albury -$66 a night and stay above a 2 floored techno beer barn full of teenagers on MDMA and very loud party remix / techno music going on. The room looks like was last renovated in the 1950's.

•Call the only guy i know in Albury and hit the RSL after Ross Wilson had just played. Didn't see Ross and damn glad i didn't hear 'Come said the Boy' the second most dodgy song in Australian Music History.

•Stash broken down car in Coles car park. Got to bed in backpackers with Digitalism's - Zdarlight blasting through the building.

•Awake sunday morning and hire car and drive to Castlemaine.

•An hour out of Albury a crazed fucktard - Chopper Reid vibe guy - cruising along in a shitbox Commodore with two kids bikes strapped to the back - a blue bike and little pink bike gets upset that i overtake him on the freeway. As im overtaking he speeds up- i was wasnt really checking my rear view mirror as as i was looking straight ahead to overtake- pretty legit an safe driving from me- anyway, Chopper Reid speeds up and whist i'm overtaking and gets really really mad..i do the thumbs up mate sign and makes him even more angrier..he follows my agrresively for the next 200 kilometres.. very intimidating - the most alarming thought of this was if he is driving so recklessly with two small kids in the car (nee the bikes) imagine what he would do if he caught up to me after 2 hours of full on road rage anger. Yep just what i need right now- anyway decide to James Bond him and speed up so he cant see me, speed into a truck parking side station behind a bunch of bushes- wait till i see him fly pass - teeth grinding trying to find me. Wait 5 minutes and commence my ongoing, fun-filled journey

•Castlemaine Bridge Hotel is a lot further than i calculated. And a path i have never journeyed before- no GPS is making trickier.

•3 hours later -- I ARRIVE! PHEW.

•The Bridge Hotel Castlemaine is a safe haven of coolness in all the chaos.

•Meet old friend Casey Rice at the Bridge Hotel and play two sets of my music to people actually listening to my songs- made the ordeal worthwhile and Skyscrapper Stan aka Stan Woodhouse - the kiwi songsmith works there as the barman- equally parts good and evil - that guy is a crackup..easing into the afternoon with a free pint of something, some comedy gold from Stan and a half price healthy dinner with green stuff in it (maybe vegetables- not on a burger bun so im a bit confused how to eat it ).

•Stay the night above the venue and get up at 4am to drive car back to hire car place. Venues alarm system goes off when i'm having a shower…find the exit and leave gracefully

•On the drive back to Albury - around 4.35am my phone GPS stops working and end up on some lonesome unused highway in a State Forrest in the middle of nowhere - using just my instinct to try and navigate back to Albury

•See a giant Pink moon setting over the trees in state forrest - i think heading towards Canberra (no idea) and makes the trip worthwhile

• Two massive kangaroos leap across the road just seconds away from me, right in front of the car- it's still pitch black - i narrowly avoiding hitting them (a split second before this happened a voice in my head said slow down, be careful, i dont wanna kill no kangaroos) - maybe it was the kangaroos mystical vibe -im not sure but seemed like divine intervention for the next 3 hours that we all survived.

•Some how make it to Heathcote, Victoria and get directions to the Hume Highway by a lady working at a servo with a magical hair braid getting hit on by the local milkman (why do all milkman look the same??) . I've never been happier to see the Hume Highway in my life. Listen to Highway to Hell - AC/DC on cd - my close friends mum gave my as a birthday gift she got from her work - a catholic girls schools - the library was throwing the cd out. Also LANKUM new song 'Wild Rover' that sounds equal parts Irish Rebel folk heroes/ Dirty Three and Tool - I'm having a moment.

•Eventually get back to Albury, put all my guitars and merch and amp back in broken car and return the hire car which was three times the amount i thought it would be cause i had driven extra kilometres.

•Get back in my barely drivable broken down car - Monday morning trying to find a mechanic in Albury to repair car. •Seems all mechanic in Albury are too busy- we can fix the car in 5 days time or are on holidays… Stranded far from home….

•Finally find a mechanic on the outskirts of town who can fix the car- drive barley drivable car around Albury trying to find the mechanic- stressing out front wheels will fall off - takes about 20 minutes without gps and hats off the bloke who gave me the best directions of my life to find mechanic.

•Mechanic looks at car and says its my lucky day - they have the spare part in Albury -which is very rare … a new crank shaft (no idea) - and he can fix it straight away ($500 seems reasonable ).

•Wait 5 hours in the belting Albury sun. Eat the biggest and best potato scallops ive ever had (from North Albury) and presto- hand over credit card and Car is fixed. Drink 2 litres of hot Mountain Dew and drive 6 hours and arrive home safely.

• Triumph scene from Rocky -Bill Contis 'Gonna Fly Now (Theme from Rocky) plays out in my head as i drink a beer and lie on the couch. Maybe next time i will fly.

• And thats what it takes to play two shows as an underground cult folk musician in Australia.

• Get Ecstatic

• And please buy my album on bandcamp to help pay mechanic - maybe a Xmas gift, coming of age …. en vogue vinyl experience

•Remember kids, "It's a JUNGLE out there!".