#is that he nearly got blanky killed

[even-in-arcadia]

A Consideration of 1st Lt. Edward Little of HMS Terror (As Played by Matthew McNulty)

The thing about Lt. Edward Little is that he had the highest ideals and yet was set up in so many ways to fail them.  

We occasionally see glimpses of the man Edward Little must have been in order to be appointed First Lieutenant on a very prestigious expedition: reliable, capable, stalwart. 

(Continued below the cut, as this got very long)

He had that, before, when he was doing the job he was trained for, ie running a ship at sea.  What he hasn’t been trained for at all is managing 129 126 119 105 ? men stuck in pack ice in endless night, later trudging over ice and shale, trying to keep them busy and out of trouble and from getting killed by a demon bear.  Of course he’s out of his depth, but honestly aren’t most of them?  Of the lieutenants Gore (RIP) is the only one who seems to be in his element and he’s the only one with Arctic experience so that tracks.  Even Le Vesconte is getting by on charisma and the power of peer pressure, neither of which actually make for competent officering.  So that’s the scene he’s stuck in, and no wonder he’s out of his depth.  

Then we have the circumstances specific to Edward Little.  He's spent the first two-plus years of the voyage as the first for a captain who is very depressed and increasingly alcoholic. As Crozier's state deteriorates and especially after Franklin dies, Little has to tread a very fine and somewhat blurry line. He has to cover for Crozier, picking up the slack that is inevitably dropped; he also has to prop Crozier up in such a way that his leadership as Captain isn't undermined with the crew. A big part of both of those is making sure that the right questions are being asked, that all practicalities are being factored in, but he has to ask those questions without seeming to question Crozier’s authority. Thus he must essentially be an acting captain without seeming to do so either to the men or to Crozier . He is not someone who wants power per se; in fact I think what he wants most is to be a good and competent 1st Lt. But because he's under an semi-incapacitated captain, he has no choice but to take on some of that power while appearing to be no more than a loyal lieutenant. He's leading without being seen to lead, and he's already seen Crozier flog three men for among other things insubordination and disrespect (and without due process).

Crozier has also put him in a position of having to lie - both directly and by omission! For example, when questioned he tells Fitzjames (who outranks him) "much to do on Terror is all” - leaving JFJ to draw his own conclusions on the source of that “much” and the extent to which it is falling on Little.  The instruction to procure more whiskey “discreetly” is nearly if not actually insulting in how far below Little's rank it is.  Having to do it “discreetly” is even worse.  He is being treated as an errand boy, and not just an errand boy but one tasked with something that is clearly unsavory, even illicit.   By ordering him to to this, he makes Little complicit in the very vice that is causing all of these problems, and Little by virtue of his position is unable to refuse any of these direct orders, even ones that are way below his station. (The fact that Jopson, Crozier's actual steward who was actually in charge of these things, was not given that task is also telling although I’m not sure of what - perhaps that Crozier wanted someone who outranked the Erebus’ steward to do the asking; perhaps that he felt some shame in asking Jopson.)

Through all of this, Little is having to cover for a man who continues to lose his own respect in ways both large and small, personal and professional. Crozier has endangered the crew for which Little feels himself bound to care - leading directly to Blanky losing his leg - and has spoken flippantly of the situation ("How fares the raft of the Medusa?"). In 1x04, he is clearly galled by both the disregard of due process and severity of Hickey’s punishment.  (While both are not unstandard in the Navy, Crozier’s manner makes it seem like spite as much as anything - which I’m sure Little clocked.)  Overall, Little observes him making inebriated decisions that are based as much on his internal demons as any the practicalities at hand while men continue to die under his watch. This erosion of trust will come back to haunt them all, because even when its causes have been overcome, the deep root and the effects are there. (JFJ gets to have reckonings with Crozier and say his piece in a way that Little never does or will.)

Edward Little also cares deeply about the welfare of his men, perhaps more than anything. Command is a responsibility not just to the navy but to those whose lives his decisions affect. And so he as he sees this disregard for them (and for himself) he is angry, and he is in a profession and position where one is not allowed to be angry with one's superiors. So he spends a lot of his time pretending that he is not quietly furious while carrying out orders that he knows he shouldn't be, and hiding it from everyone , even Fitzjames, because he is also, deep in his heart, loyal (even if he feels it is unearned) and married to Naval structures.  Crozier and JFJ have their reckoning, but Little never gets that, because subordinates aren’t allowed to be angry.  

This combination, the lack of trust both given and received, the anger, the care & loyalty, the necessity to fill the void in leadership, means that he asks a lot of questions . A well placed "Are you sure, sir?" can go a long way. "Yes, but--" is not a phrase that would often have been uttered to a commander by a lieutenant, but Little has not just earned but hard won the right to say it.  Every time he questions Crozier, I think it is out of a sense of duty, not defiance. A duty to the expedition, to Crozier, and above all to the men, because for so long Crozier’s judgement was not something he was able to rely on. He can’t even attend a sunrise party without thinking of the supplies that are being used up! 

To top everything off, he also never appears to be someone who is particularly congenial nor gregarious, he is very aware of his rank, and is competent while not being loved (except by me).  I like to imagine that he and Jopson and Macdonald were able to commiserate in some way as Crozier was going through his detox.  But everyone is so conscious of class & rank & secrets being guarded that it seems unlikely that anyone actually confided in each other. By getting dry and in such dramatic fashion, Crozier earns back his loyalty & respect, but by doing so in secret I wonder if he hasn't further eroded Little's relationship with the other lieutenants.  Do they even know Crozier is drying out or is Little lying to them as well as to the entire rest of the crew?  Little does not seem like a man who cares for lying, and covering up the captain's "gastritis" would only have made Little feel more cut off and burdened by the captain's confidence. (To say nothing of the fact that all of this is going on with the Tuunbaaq in the background - these lieutenants were not designed to contend with alcoholic spirits let alone the spirit world.)

 Crozier’s trust does often  end up being more burden than anything, and it’s beyond the responsibility that would normally come with his rank. That moment when he practically shoves the pistol away from him is so telling of this.  We really were robbed of the moment when Little is so angry after leaving Crozier that he can’t even slam his door: because that’s what’s building up this entire time!  

By covering for Crozier both before and during his sobering up, Little probably lost some of his authority over the crew. They know he's hiding something, and that earns some distrust. He's obviously worn out, and there must be some observation that Crozier is literally using him as an errand boy. In the best of circumstances the commanding-without-commanding is a hard line to walk while maintaining one’s own air of authority. He's also angry, and in working so hard to cover and subdue his anger, what he's left with is the "sad, wet man" that fandom has dubbed him. The crew may not know exactly what’s going on (although what do those men have to do besides gossip) but they must have sensed how Little is being worn away. As much as he cares for them, he wouldn’t fraternize - it seems like he barely fraternizes in the wardroom.  (Which is why that moment of camaraderie with Jopson outside Crozier’s cabin is so important to me personally.) 

That brings us to the mutiny.  We may love a sad, wet man, but in the face of a charismatic mutineer he's never going to match up. He doesn't have the authority, the love of the crew, or really the energy to go against it. At this point, he has no reason to know or suspect that a mutiny is what's the offing in the first place! He is someone who wants to believe the best of his men, and he's been given no reason to doubt Tozer's motives. And what was he supposed to do in the face of a marine sergeant surrounded by frightened, armed men?  They are clearly on edge and afraid, a dangerous combination.  He is practical, and although ultimately it loses him even more face by going along with Tozer, he was never going to be able to stop that in its tracks. Even JFJ wasn’t able to reel back in what had already been done.  So he chooses the pragmatic route: agree publicly to the logic, let Tozer do with him what he's been doing with Crozier, in making the subordinate's idea appear to be the superior's. With the situation and facts at hand, what else is he to do? 

The irony is that Little has been quietly looking out for all of them and their best interests for so long; but because it was so quiet, an undercurrent, when it comes down to brass tacks, none of them have ever seen that, or feel that they owe him any respect or loyalty. Tozer and Hickey appear to be men of action, and unfortunately in a moment like this a group of frightened men is going to follow the one who appears strongest. 

I also want to point out that Crozier specifically says *while the fog holds off*. Well the fog has rolled in! The situation changed! Crozier clearly has suspicions of Hickey and Tozer that he hasn't confided to Little, and whose fault is that! When it comes to investigating Irving’s and Farr’s murders, Little asks what the evidence is, which suggests to me that he has no knowledge of any concerns about Hickey that have arisen post-lashing.  Again, he is inclined to trust them.

One of the realest moments we get from him is "I'm the worst kind of sorry." It's one of the very few times he breaks from naval demeanor. The worst kind because he feels it deeply, but also because he was stuck, and he knows it, and also knows the expectations both from himself and from others that he be Better.

What it comes down to is what he says to Hodgson: "All we have are our instincts and training. If both told you to proceed with what you ordered, then be easy with yourself." That is all Little has had for so long. He certainly doesn’t seem to be having heart to hearts with Irving and Hodgson, let alone JFJ and Crozier; his counterpart on Erebus is long gone.  Who has he to confide in, especially at this juncture of events, when there are no clear paths and no right answers. I imagine this is what he told himself over and over in the long watches of the night.  

And yet!! Matthew McNulty has said that “Little's probably one of the most hopeful out of them all. [...] He still thinks that humanity will prevail in this dark, dark world.”  I’m not sure where to put this, but I think it’s important.  I think it’s part of why he doesn’t always quite have the authority he should: poor, worn down Edward Little sees the best and hopes for the best, and can’t quite reckon that not everyone has the same moral compass he does.  That’s why Tozer & Hickey get the best of him, because he wants to believe the best of them.  He doesn’t compromise his moral compass or belief in humanity, and unfortunately that turns into a blind spot.I think it’s also why Tozer invites him to join them: because some part of him recognizes that they both have that idealism deep down.  They are both doing their best in an inconceivable situation to cling to hope and take care of those they see as under their protection. It pains me to think what they could have accomplished had they worked together rather than against each other. 

(Incidentally, I don’t believe Little ever would have been swayed to join them, but I can’t blame him for the fact that Tozer’s claim about Crozier leaving them gave him pause.  He’s seen Crozier finally grow into a commander he can respect, but to find out that Crozier’s judgment was not just impaired for so long but extended to actively planning to abandon ship & crew, as Tozer frames, as he was working so hard to hold things together - even if he doesn’t believe it, in his heart of course there must have been some doubt.) 

All of these, the erosion of respect, the concern, the exhaustion, the lack of direction and support, the HOPE, come together in a moment for which he (unjustly, in my opinion) gets vilified for: 

We’ve slowed our pace hauling some of the ill in the boats. But if we extend this temporary camp more than a few days, we can allow the ill to rest here while the bulk of us proceed south. We can hopefully find game and trek back for the others once we have something more to offer them–

And Jopson’s anger is both understandable and not unwarranted - but. Based on that look Le Vesconte gives him, this most likely is not a thought that originated with Little.  It’s  being grumbled by those hauling, maybe even obliquely discussed by the officers.   That look says to me “It has to be said.”  And it does, the logistics are evident to everyone and that needs to be discussed.  They’re sending out hunting parties every day, sure, but in an area very close to the one they’re trekking through.  It genuinely does make practical sense to have some unencumbered, able-bodied (relatively) men go ahead quickly to what would hopefully be better hunting grounds, while the sick conserve what strength they have: those able to hunt could move quickly and bring back game, while those who are dying could do so while not being jostled about on boats on shale.  Little does not say (and, I think, would never say) that they should leave them behind entirely: only that this current system isn’t really helping anyone (and it isn’t).  He needs to make sure that Crozier has fully considered the situation, because for so long that was not the case. (Historically, in fact, they did set up a hospital camp while a smaller party moved south.)

I actually do think he says this with hope: the hope that they really will find game, that the ill do just need to rest, that he can save as many of them as possible.  He's also thinking of the practicalities and (though I may be biased) really does intend to return to the ill once they have something to actually provide them with. He doesn't say so that they can move on unencumbered, to better their own chances, he says to let them rest , to find something to offer them.  He knows the situation and the feeling in camp, and that the time has come to have the conversation. It's not even necessarily a conversation he wants to have or believes in, but it has to be had. Once it's been talked about, once Crozier has come out with not just a position but a direction (to leave supplies behind if necessary), Little is entirely on board. Shortly thereafter, when Le Vesconte suggests the exact same thing, he retorts that " Most of us are ill" (note the us - the identification with) and further responds with disgust and anger that "The Captain also ordered that we not leave any man behind. You expediently leave that out."  The Captain isn’t there; Jopson isn’t there: if Little really in any way wanted to leave anyone behind, this was his chance to order it and save himself.  The fact is that he is still arguing for and trying to lead with compassion as well as duty; the fact that he can't override the more selfish majority doesn't negate that.

I wish we could see his decision to go with Le Vesconte even though he so clearly believes that these lesser mutineers are in the wrong; I know why we don't. I like to think that it's because he believes he's doing the best thing for all, that he knows one semi-able bodied man staying behind is not going to help anyone, and that by going south with the group he may be to able to sway them, or find game for the ill. But again - he has been put in a position where there is no right choice, and where any authority he had has been too far eroded to matter.

Regardless: we go from his vehement protestation that they must a) rescue their captain and b) not leave behind the ill to die to this:

A man completely broken, weathered almost beyond recognition, with his flesh pierced by and draped with the chains of watch fobs. That's fobs plural: they're clearly different chains, from different watches, from different men.  But in still uniform.  Because he clung to the to his identity, to hope, to grounding structure of the Navy in which he trained and believed, until the very end.

We don't know what happens in between. Is it madness? Did the mutineers do this to him?   Is it penance? A memorization of the men whose watches those were?  A punishment on himself for what happened on his watch - despite the fact that really, he was powerless to stop it? And this is the only watch he can keep now - watch chains in his face, his eyes forced open to the horrors. Or did 1st Lt. Edward Little spend so long suppressing his anger, marrying that anger to hope, being responsible, keeping confidences, bearing all that alone, with authority that is both shoved on him and disregarded - did he finally snap? Are the chains not a decoration, not a punishment, but an attempt to literally bind himself up and tack himself down to this terrible world where he’s found himself?  

All we know for certain is his last word - “Close?” Close to what? To death? To salvation?  The only comfort either Edward Little or we, the audience, will get - is that at the very end, his captain was there to release him from the duty to which he clung for so long, so fiercely, with so much hope.

[hacash]

Terror AUs where some or all of the crew survive are a lot of fun, but I think we need to lean more into the comedy of the fact that – no matter where in the story the men get rescued, no matter from which particular brink of danger they’re snatched, no matter the context - that would have to have been an incredibly awkward journey home. As in, awkward enough that the crew of the random whaler that picked the boys up petitions their captain never to rescue any survivors from a maritime wreck ever again because honestly, captain, the vibes are just too toxic right now.

-

Little: You embarrassed me in front of all the men! And then, yeah, the whole mutiny thing, but that thing at the armoury was so fucking mean.

-

Jopson: I was right there, dying, and you bastards just left me!

-

Gibson: Were you about to fucking eat me?!

-

Fitzjames: Whoa, hold up George, you were happy to eat our dog?!

-

The entire crew: YOU TRIED TO SET US ON FIRE.

-

Crozier: Hey, anyone from Erebus remember how I said this was an act of hubris none of us would survive, and then none of you bastards backed me up? And then we almost didn’t survive it? Remember that, huh? Huh?

-

Hartnell: Look, Captain, I appreciate you saving our lives and all but the next time you fire off a rocket would you mind not doing so straight at my face, please? Thanks for understanding. Also Hickey and Tozer you fucked us all over and nearly killed us all, you absolute colossal pricks.

-

Goodsir: First girlfriend in my entire life and you wankers ruined EVERYTHING. And also that whole cannibalism thing.

-

Blanky: Remember when I lost my leg because you were having a hissy fit, Francis?

-

The Marines: Listen to Hickey, you said…he’s got a plan, you said…get out of here all in one piece, you said…

-

Tozer: You KNOCKED ME OUT and tried to use me as TUUNBAQ BAIT.

-

Irving: HEY HICKEY, THE BOOK OF PROVERBS SAYS ‘THE WRINGING OF THE NOSE BRINGETH FORTH BLOOD’ AND ONCE LITTLE AND HODGSON STOP SITTING ON ME I’M GONNA PROVE IT TO YOU, ARSEHOLE.

-

Sir John: …Ok, ok, my bad.

[reallyromealone]

Demon Slayer • Father Figure Tengen x Muzan's Son Reader • Reader was a weak half demon that refused to help his father find the spider Lily. A traveler mistook the boy as human when he found Reader severally injured on the side of the road, he was took to the butterfly estate since it was close by in hopes for the boy to be healed. When the Hashiras found out he was a demon, he was prisoned. That is when Tengen and him got close, Reader seeing Tengen as a father that he always wanted. (take your time! Love you, friendo!)

Oh this is good

And ily too friendarino

I worked very hard on this ---

(Name) was only five in human years when his dad nearly killed him and abandoned him on the side of a road.

Scared and cold the little half demon clung helplessly to his blankie, the only thing he had of his mother.

His body was shutting down and he felt so alone.

Half demons healed at a much much slower rate, (name) accepting death.

"Oh poor thing, let's get you to a doctor."

Waking up in a warm bed felt weird, the small child clinging to the blankets helplessly as people checked on him "he's so cold..." One of them commented as they tried to warm the boy up.

See, the tricky thing about half demons is that they have a weird combination of both human and demon.

They can die of old age but they're aging process is incredibly slow.

They have blood magic but it's nowhere near as strong.

And unlike demons they can eat human food and go into sunlight, they're just very sensitive to the latter.

(Name) could honestly live a normal life if he chose too.

But his dad had other plans.

He wanted to raise (name) to be the perfect weapon despite his flaw of being a human.

He wanted (name) to find the spider lily.

(Name) didn't want to help his dad find some flower, the small child not understanding the gravity of why it was so important.

Muzan didn't like it.

One bit.

So Muzan did what he felt logical.

Kill and abandon the child and start again.

Though he didn't successfully kill (name) as the small boy was still alive.

Cracking his eyes open he saw a traditional room, gas lamp beside him as a woman with pretty purple eyes and a butterfly clip dabbed warm water on him to try and regulate his body temperature.

"Oh! You're awake, how are you feeling?" The lady asked and (name) was hesitant to answer as he looked down "I'm good, thank you miss..." His voice meek and soft as he refused to make eye contact with her.

He would face dire consequences if he did so.

"Where are your parents little one?"

"Mamas gone... Papa hates me"

"Why do you think that?"

"Wouldn't find a stupid lily so papa got rid of me..."

"....what kind of lily" the air in the room shifted as everyone stared at the child...his eyes....they looked like...his.

"Buu spider lily..."

"Take him to the dungeons" was all he heard before he was taken down to a cold cell...reminded him of where father would put him if he didn't behave.

Curled up he cried, realizing he didn't have his blankie made him even more upset.

Tengen walked down to the dungeons, requested by the others to figure out what the kid was up to and kind of interrogate him.

When tengen got to the demons cell he wasn't expecting practically a baby, sobbing away "thought you would have been older..." Tengen said catching the boys attention and Tengen watched him physically flinch and curl up more "I'm sorry..." The boy mumbled and repeated the phrase, genuinely scared of the man.

"Hey... I'm not gonna hurt you, I just have a few questions..."

(Name) stared at him with teary eyes but didn't say anything else.

"Pretty scary down here... Are you hungry?"

(Name) shook his head but his stomach said otherwise, a loud growl rang out and (name) cried a bit in worry.

"Hey... It's alright, we all get hungry" Tengen said softly and (name) fiddled with his little fingers "is there anything I can do to make feel better?"

(Name) was quiet for a moment before speaking "my blankie..." His little voice melted Tengens heart and the white haired man nodded "alright... I will be right back alright?"

"Promise?"

"I promise"

When tengen came upstairs be was livid.

They wanted him to interrogate a toddler!

He didn't care if that was Muzans child, all he saw was a scared abandoned toddler who needed someone to save him.

But first that kid needed food.

And his blankie.

He made a simple dish for the toddler, nothing crazy and grabbed his blanket and a small cup of tea to wash it down.

(Name) was surprised when the man came back with so much for him.

"Here you go, it's not a the fanciest but I like it" he said wrapping the boys blanket around his tiny shoulders "and this is some tea, it's cool enough to drink now"

"Have you ever had this?" Tengen asked the small child who shook his head "what have you had?"

"Nefer had food... Father made me eat pink squishy stuff and yucky red stuff... It always made me feel weird"

It didn't take a genius to realize what he talking about.

Flesh and blood.

The thing about half demons is they can eat flesh of humans and gain power like a demon but it doesn't taste good.

It tasted to (name) how raw flesh would to a human.

Since no one else ate human food around him, he didn't know much about it.

"Well I promise you this is really yummy"

Tengen held a chopstick to (name)s lips and the tot opened wide and looked pleasantly surprised at how yummy it tasted.

The two spent the next half hour like this, Tengen feeding the small boy who somehow ended up in his crossed lap and Tengen learned that this boy wasn't a threat at all.

He was just a little boy who desperately needed love.

And Tengen wanted to give him all of it.

"Let's go upstairs yeah?"

The others were horrified as he carried the little boy in his arms and spoke oh so softly to him.

"He's a demon!"

"He's a toddler who just had green tea for the first time and his mom's human, he's half"

"He still shares blood with that monster!"

"A monster he's terrified of, he's five...he doesn't understand what his dad is doing all he knows is he hurt him and never loved him"

The other hashira looked sceptical as Tengen continued "I will take full responsibility for him...just give him a chance before turning him away"

The others begrudgingly agreed and allowed him to keep the spawn.

The following days the others watched Tengen interact with the child, setting him up in a room and getting him a few toys, the little boy crying.

He had never been given a gift.

(Name) was practically his shadow, following him everywhere and holding onto his pant leg.

A week became a month and a month became six.

Tengens wives took the small boy in with open arms, doting and loving.

"Goodnight (name)..." Tengen said softly to the boy he had grown to love.

"Goodnight papa..."

Tengen wanted to cry right then and there, he had seen the boy as his own but never said anything as he didn't want to push the boy but now...

He was his dad now.

And he had never been happier.

[sinorjack19961226]

U6: The amazing Digital Agency

Year: 2000

Takes place: Where ever TADC takes place

Based off: The amazing digital circus

Project: Fan-made

Lore: In ###### there is a large agency testing the power of cartoon physics and digital physics. But they’re experiments go wrong one day with a large tank exploding giving many people but not all of them a virus. Some of them survive the virus still normal, Some of them get turned into unknown creatures, Others abstract off the bat. The people who got transformed if they get scared of themselves and go though depression of they’re new form they will abstract. A abstract is a creature who went though depression and hatred of their new form and they break themselves they’re new mind forcing them to attack and kill whoever they find. A man known as Caine who has gained enough power to make his own agency he hires many people and sometimes friends of his go with his team. The agency is to find knockout and capture abstracts and keep them away from the world. So what will happen who knows….do you.

Pomni: Jester to agent, Still has jester ability’s and antics, Not very funny or silly or goofy, Has anxiety when going on missions.

Jax: Rabbit to Agent, A jerk with an endless pocket odd objects, Dose horrible pranks to people, Has fun on his missions.

Ragatha: Rag doll to agent, A sweet woman who is the mother figure to the group, Helps everyone and protects them in a motherly way, Keeps them safe in the missions.

Kinger: Chess piece to agent, Crazy madman who sometimes has his sanity, He try’s to do his best and helps the group, Nearly looses it during the missions.

Zooble: Amalgamation to Agent, Cold lady who actually likes herself but sometimes hates it, She is the weapons girl, She gets broken sometimes in the missions.

Gangle: Ribbons and mask to agent, Cute girl who’s mask controls her emotions, She has multiple masks under her happy mask, She’s scared in missions but try’s her best.

Caine: Master and owner of the agency, Goofy and crazy jaw and eyes, He gained power through his years since he transformed, He sends the people in the missions but still cares for them.

Bubble: Was never a human, Developed by Caine but got a virus that made him insane, he rarely goes on missions,

Blanky: Slime to agent, Funny brutal goofy slime guy, He uses his slime powers very brutally, He has this weird laser beam that comes out his mouth, The brutal on of the missions.

Gloink queen: Not an agent, Queen of the gloinks, she was never a human, She eats and kills anyone who enters the gloinks kingdom.

Loo: Detective and lives in the candy town, Friends with Caine, A detective that sometimes works with Caine, Sometimes goes on missions.

GummyGoo: Side detective, Acts like a cowboy sometimes, He’s the side detective of Loo, He enjoys his job, Sometimes goes on missions also.

Abstract: A once creature that abstracted, Kills what it needs, Feasts on other creatures, Has no self-control.

[sparkedblaze]

modern morris meeting katherine for the first time. she’s sat at medda’s kitchen table painting her nails, surrounded by a sea of little bottles of pretty colours. shiny ones, and glittery ones, and ones that are just bright colours. lots of different pink ones. she’s got her long ginger curls tied back out of the way, eyes narrowed as she focuses. she’s really pretty.

one of the other boys prickles, noticing morris staring at her. “hey. don’t you dare even think ‘bout starting anything wit’ a girl.”

“jack’ll kill you,” another adds, glaring. “you better leave kath alone.”

katherine scoffs, giving them both a withering look. “i don’t need you defending my honour, thank you very much. or jack, for that matter.” she turns her attention to morris then, and it’s only her that notices morris isn’t really staring at her - he’s staring at her nails, at the tiny brush in her hands painting strokes of deep green onto her neatly manicured fingernails.

“do you want to come over here to watch?” she offers, gesturing at the chair beside her. morris tentatively does so, sitting on the chair with his knees pulled up to his chest, holding a ratty pink blanket tight in his arms. he looks fascinated, rocking slightly as he watches kath work. katherine, finishing up her own nails, dares to venture a little further. “would you like me to paint your nails too?”

she doesn’t know much about morris. she’s received warnings from jack and the others, of course, heard jack’s stories - but she’s always been more interested in doing her own research to form opinions based on. she’s always been open with and kind to any of jack’s foster siblings, and she’s firm that the delanceys will be no exception unless or until they prove themselves worthy of being so.

it’s hard to believe that morris could be, when he tentatively offers katherine one of his slightly trembling hands, and flinches when she takes it despite how gently she did so. she smooths her thumb over his scarred knuckles as she looks over his bitten nails.

“what colour would you like?”

Morris says nothing, just uses the hand holding his blankie to point to a particularly glittery pink bottle, chewing on the pink bumpy necklace around his neck.

He looks back up at Katherine with wide eyes, chewing even harder when she looks up at him with pursed lips. He isn't allowed to have that one. That one's for girls. He can't-

Katherine holds her hands up, trying to make sure he stays calm, eyes locked on the hand he'd yanked away. "Hey, hey, it's okay... I just wanted to tell you that it won't show up very pink on your nails. It's just pink glitter..."

Morris lets out a soft whine, pointing at it again.

"I have an idea," Katherine smiles conspiratorially, pulling a pale pink from her collection. "We can do this one first, and then when it dries we can paint the glitter on, too."

Morris's eyes go wide when she says that. "Bo'f?"

The boys sitting around the kitchen stop, eyes landing on Morris.

Katherine hears the chatter around the room stall, sees Morris squirm under the scrutiny, and turns to glare at the boys. "Hey, cut it out."

Their eyes move away as quickly as they'd moved to Morris.

She turns back to him with a smile. "Ignore them, Morris, it'll be alright. You want two?"

Morris nods, eyes alight with glee. "Yeah."

She gently takes his hand again, shaking the bottle of the lighter color. "You ready?"

He nods again, fingers wiggling in her hand.

"You've gotta try and keep your hand still, okay? I don't want to get it on your skin," Kath smiles kindly, brushing her thumb along his knuckles.

His eyes are wide, and more than a little upset.

"It's alright, just let me know if you want to move, okay? I'll let you go and you can move around," Katherine smiles broadly at him, and the boy matches it, just as excited.

They sit there for nearly an hour before Oscar barges in, demanding to know where Morris is. Katherine watches as Morris waves, noticing that he's trying very hard not to let Oscar see the paint on his nails.

" 'M righ' here, Os," Morris smiles, teeth still clamped around the chewelry he has. "Watchin' Kath paintin' nails."

Oscar's eyes narrow, looking over the spread. "Whose nails is she paintin'?"

Morris hesitates, panic seizing him for a moment.

"I'm painting Morris's," Katherine looks up at Oscar with raised eyebrows, daring him to say something.

Oscar looks between them, pursing his lips. "He ask you to?"

She nods, and Oscar holds his hand out to Morris. "Le'me see, Mo."

Morris stares at the floor as he holds his hand out to Oscar, shaking as Oscar takes his hand, inspecting the color on his nails.

" 'S pretty, Mo. You just leavin' 'em like this?"

"Mm mm," Morris shakes his head, bouncing in his seat again. "She gon' put sparkleys on 'em!"

Oscar smiles, looking over the colors, reaching out for a bottle of a dark, dark blue. "Me next, Katherine?"

Once again, the room falls silent, but the trio at the table neglects to notice.

"Of course, Oscar," Katherine is surprised by his want to join them, but she sees the look on his face as Morris lights up.

"We gon' match?!" Morris is practically vibrating with excitement.

Oscar's small smile breaks into a full on grin at Morris's reaction. "Yeah, Mo, we're gonna match."

[eievuimultimuse]

one of the major things you gotta realize about superfly when it comes to his vision of his father is that he...does not actually seem to remember much about him. which makes perfect sense because he was a BABY when baxter unfortunately died. i think the hint of this being the case that sorta clued me into this is the whole 'sludge vs ooze' exchange he has w/ the turtles when he meets em. he referred to the mutagen as 'sludge' while they said 'ooze' & he's like 'ooh, i like that!' meanwhile baxter himself referred to it as ooze. so, how i see it, it's a sign that like yeah superfly might subconsciously remember some things from the short time he spent with his dad but he otherwise doesn't remember.

i think the biggest thing tho is comparing the prologue scene in MM versus superfly's retelling of it later in the film. notably, there are two major differences about it: first off, in superfly's version of events, baxter's a lot warmer towards him, whereas in the prologue he's not nearly as warm ( btw that isn't to say he's cold, because he isn't !! i mean the guy refers to SF affectionately as 'little one,' calls himself his dad, gives him a crib w/ a lil blankie...the guy clearly adored SF in his own way. i'm just pointing out that all of the more cuddlier moments between the two happen specifically in superfly's version of events ).

secondly, SF's flashback shows the explosion that killed baxter but not the fact that SF landed on the canisters that wound up prompting the TCRI guy to shoot at him, thus causing them to explode. like, we see the part where baxter uses his own body to shield him but that's it. & while this could easily be the film speeding things along, i wouldn't be surprised if superfly just like...simply didnt comprehend that he inadvertently caused that. especially because as far as he's concerned, TCRI maliciously murdered baxter ( & this ofc isn't putting the blame on SF he was a frightened baby trying to defend him & his dad fuckngi of COURSE not jfc nor take the blame off of TCRI bc theyre no less responsible for what happened -- but SF seems to think they did it on purpose. meanwhile, it was more just the result of pure recklessness; they wanted both baxter & SF alive ).

so like basically the point im getting at here is that superfly's perspective is prrreeetty skewed both as a result of being too young to remember it accurately and also being traumatized witnessing such a horrible thing when he was an actual baby. it especially seems like he sugarcoats & hypes up his dad's memory as a result when, truthfully, he barely even got to know the guy. & considering that baxter's sorta the catalyst for SF's eventual violence & hatred, it's honestly really interesting to think that he's doing it based off of a perception skewed by trauma. that the catalyst for his actions isn't even based in objective truth.

[lazyalani]

| Sano Manjiro × [GN!Reader]

| Human

| hurt/comfort, mikey needs therapy, but reader is there for him, and he's grateful, manga spoilers, rip emma :(

| Summary: Mikey seems to always feel the need to be strong, and you're there to remind him it's okay to be weak sometimes.

| Tokyo Revengers Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

"I see you'd taken a liking towards her." Grandpa Sano cleared Draken's words Draken bowed towards him. "I am sure she is resting well." He smiled at the young boy who is currently crying.

"Gu-" He sobbed.

You remained seated next to Mikey, you didn't hesitate to cry for your bestfriend who died because of a bitter ass jerk who got rejected and decided to wreck the Japan. Some toman members were present, such as Peh-yan, the twins, Mitsuya and Chifuyu. Even Inui is present.

Mikey couldn't do anything but rub your back and stare blanky at the floor, his face void of anything. His sister's death hit him too hard. The word 'kill' didn't really faze him, but not when it comes to his family. Anyone close to him is family. Seeing his sister lifeless forced him to shut down at this moment.

Realizing that nearly everyone broke down made you look at them. Even Mitsuya and Chifuyu are crying over their President's sister's death.

Toman's President was devastated.

Toman may not be that showy to each other but they do care for each other. Anyone close to them is Toman's family even that person isn't a member of the gang. Emma had still somewhat left a significant sense to them.

Later, everyone began leaving as they already have to go home.

Mikey and Grandpa already left to, you were the only one who stayed a little longer. You talked to Emma about the things you promised you'd do together and stared at her picture one last time before going to Mikey's room.

When he gave you permission to come in you opened the door and saw him lying on his bed staring directly at the ceiling, no emtion evident on his face.

But you knew that deep inside he was crying.

You sat down on his bed. "You don't have to hold it in you know."

"What do you mean?" He replied, still facing the ceiling.

You sighed. "Everyone is sad, Mikey. Everyone cried, even Draken. You don't have to be strong every single time. I know you feel burdened by the fact that you are the President and that you have to look strong and confident for the sake of Toman's reputation, but Mikey, please remember that you're also just human."

You felt him flinch as you knew you were right. He shuffled around and placed his head on your lap, burying his head on your stomach and wraping his arms around you. You ran your hands around his hair, something you often do when Mikey's upset.

"You can cry, you can break down, you can let loose. You don't have to stay calm and collected all the time. Everyone has their ups and downs. It's okay to be weak at times, it's okay to share the pain to me. I'm your girlfriend, Mikey, I'm your partners. My purpose is for you to share your pain to me so you don't have to endure it alone. I know you feel lonely at times but we're here for you. You are not alone Mikey, we are here. We are always here. You're not a robot, Mikey. You can also fell pain, you have feelings and emotions. You can cry, Mikey, it's alright, no one will see you here but me."

You felt him sob and soon felt your shirt get wet by Mikey's tears.

You smiled as you cried with him. The Invincible Mikey has finally broken down. Mikey finally let his emotions burst shared his pain to you.

"I, I know I'm not that affectionate when to everyone, even Emma. But I love her you know. Emma was keeping me up with Kenchin when I was so low. She was a good sister. And- and I couldn't even save her from that stupid fucktard. Was I a bad brother? Is this my punishment?" Mikey held you tighter as he continued to mourn.

"Ofcourse you weren't! You were a good brother, Mikey. Even if Emma's not physically here, I know that she's always looking at us, she's spiritually with us, she's always here. You even took her out on her birthday remember? Emma was so happy." You told him. "Emma always talked about how she was so happy that you were her brother. She said you were stubborn and bratty at times but you will always be special to her. You, her big brother, is the most important person in her life, even more than Draken." You giggled and felt Mikey chuckle.

"Kenchin's stupid and a coward. He couldn't even confess to her."

You slapped his head and raised your eyebrow. "You're one to talk, if it weren'y for Baji I wouldn't even know you liked me."

He pouted and buried his head to your tummy again but you pushed his head away.

"Hey! What was that for?!" He complained.

You glared at the now whining child who was stuck at a teen body. (Still small though)

"My shirt is already wet I need to change and I want a shower too!" You said as you stood up to get clothes from a spare drawer Mikey has for your clothes.

You had so many sleepovers here that your parents advised you to bring extra clothes and uniform at Mikey's house just in case.

"Just shower later! I want my cuddles!"

You deadpanned at him before walking towards his bathroom.

"Don't ignore me!"

When you finished showering you went out just to see him with his arms crossed and eyes glaring at you.

You felt one of eyes twitch. This childlish deliquent.

"I just realized you're short"

"You're barely even taller than me!"

"Bitch." He grumbled.

"Immature." You rolled your eyes.

"I'm not immature!"

"Sure, whatever makes you sleep at night, babe."

He sighed and lied down his bed as you climbed on top of him and placed your head in his chest, playing with the matching necklace you both got.

"[Name]?"

"Yeah?"

"Please stay with me forever."

"Sure."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh."

"Even when I'm old and not atrractive anymore?"

"Bold of you to assume you're attractive."

"Well my looks made you fall inlove with me, didn't it?"

"Oh."

"Even if I'm Immature?"

"Pfft..."

"[Name]! I'm serious!"

"Yes! Yes! I'll stay with you forever. Even if you're not attractive, old, immature, childlish and a hyper man-child."

"Now you're just insulting me. But I'm glad I ended up with you. I love you, I'll love you, forever."

"I love you too, I'll love you forever."

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Character Headcanons

Jake

He's afraid of spiders, no matter how big or small.

His father won't allow him to eat too much sugar because he gets hyperactive

As a baby he had the tendency to crawl out of his cradle and all the way outside, where he'd surprisingly kill any critters he happened to encounter.

His first word was 'mama'.

He was five years old when his father joined I.M.P. By the time of the first episode, he's nine.

He's called Jakey by Millie and Blitzo, brat (occasionally) by Moxxie, little guy by Loona.

The nicknames Striker calls him include boy, my boy, kiddo, pup, little buddy, amongst others.

Like his dad, he enjoys trolling Moxxie, though Jake is far more on the pranking side.

He's skilled with knives and pistols, though he's too small to shoot rifles yet.

He considers Millie a sort of maternal figure. He's tried asking his father about his birth mother, but Striker always avoids the question.

Instead of a baby rattle, he'd play with his father's rattling tail.

Striker

While not as good of a cook as Moxxie, he can do basic dishes such as eggs, meat, etc.

Other instruments he plays apart from the guitar are the harmonica and, surprisingly, the violin, though he's quite rusted in the latter.

He's got lots of scars from previous jobs, but one in particular that he holds dearly is the mating mark on his left shoulder, which he obtained from Jane.

His hobbies include riding Bombproof with Jake, playing the guitar, polishing his blessing-tipped weapons and overall spending time with his son.

When napping, he pulls his hat over his face for two purposes: to shield his face from lights and a sort of 'i'm sleeping don't bother me' warning to others. Whoever ignores the warning and tries to awaken him receives a punch in the face.

When Jake was a baby, he'd play the guitar and sing lullabies for him.

When Moxxie first discovered his blessing-tipped riffle, Striker opened up a bit and explained his past as an assassin-for-hire before having to retire when Jake was born. Surprisingly, the two ended up bonding over their knowledge and passion for weapons.

He's a mildly dyslexic. His notes are literally unreadable by anyone but himself.

He's skilled at lassoing and tying knots, which are nearly inescapable as Blitzo found the hard way.

He tends to tip his hat to people who impress him as a show of respect, like a true cowboy.

Sometimes he visits Jane's grave to put flowers and talk about Jake.

Despite flirting with Millie to spite Moxxie, Striker actually respects her marriage and hasn't openly advanced romantically unto her.

He often makes indy hat rolls during some jobs.

Though he's not as much of a jerk to Moxxie like in canon, Striker still does love teasing him and rubbing his superior physical condition in Moxxie's face in a less-hostile manner.

He hasn't had sex since Jane died; instead, he masturbates himself with porno magazines when Jake isn't around.

He's got a particular glare that he gives Jake when he's misbehaving, which is enough to scare him into behaving.

Bombproof

He was originally a wild stallion captured to be sold, but no one could stay on his back for longer than ten seconds. Striker wagered that he could tame the horse; if he won, he'd get to keep it. To everyone's awe, Striker successfully broke Bombproof, earning the horse's respect in the process.

He's Striker's most treasured friend and confidant.

He knows some commands, most notably 'sit down'. On one occasion, Striker had him sit down on Moxxie (kinda like phoebus did to a soldier with Achilles in The Hunchback of Notre Dame).

Bombproof's favorite snack is badger meat.

So far, he's only allowed Striker and Jake to ride him.

Striker only has to whistle for Bombproof to come to him no matter where he is.

The horse is very protective of Striker and Jake. On one occasion he stamped on a hellmania devil that was about to pounce on baby Jake.

No matter how hard Blitzo tries, he can't get to even pet Bombproof, as the horse moves away from him with a snarl. The fact that everyone else in I.M.P. has petted him at least once drives him crazy.

He often babysat baby Jake while his master was working.

He loves being scratched behind the ears.

When he gets ill, the fiery parts of his body douse and become pale and ashy, like a fire extinguishing.

Jane

She knew Striker since childhood and was the only Imp friend he ever had. Her nickname for him was Strike.

She knitted most of Jake's baby clothes, including his blankie.

Her final words were 'Raise him well, Strike'.

Striker would often serenade her.

Lillies were her favorite flowers. Striker often decorates her grave with said flowers; their scent often reminds him of her.

Though they never married, she and Striker left mating marks on each other as a love promise.

[lupinlongbottom]

Aggravating Acquaintances

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Being friends with James Potter was a feat many didn’t have the pleasure of experiencing. However, for (Y/N), the worst thing to happen to their friendship was meeting one Sirius Black on the Hogwarts Express their first year. To say that (Y/N) and Sirius didn’t get along would be an understatement. 

Prompt: Hey! Imagine for Sirius with prompts 147 and 71? - Anon

147. “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.

71. “Are you really flirting with me right now?”

prompt list can be found here

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: drinking/alcohol, a few suggestive themes?

A/N: Sirius Black. That’s it. That’s the author’s note. also i really like asshole energy you know? no? idk. bantering and whatnot is a bunch of fun

__

Parties.

(Y/N) never cared for them, if she was being honest with herself. Never once did the idea of drinking her problems away, only to laugh and dance with her friends came to mind. While she never shied away the occasional drink, she never felt the need to have more than a few, to let her inhibitions get the best of her. But now, here she was, surrounded by a pack of bumbling drunkards in a rather crowded Gryffindor common room, wishing for the sweet release of death.

“(Y/N)!” James Potter, Gryffindor Chaser, exclaimed from across the room, practically crawling over the crowd to reach her. 

“Hey Jim,” (Y/N) smiled politely, choosing to ignore the way his eyes were pleasantly glazed over. He had a habit of going too hard, too quick. “How’s the party treating you?”

“Never been better,” James said, trying not to shout. “Gryffindor won the match!” So much for not shouting. A few Gryffindor students aided in the chant. Some rogue Hufflepuff students chimed in as well. 

“I know,” (Y/N) laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I was watching the whole thing, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” James laughed. “Did you think Evans saw me?” His head whipped around, eyes scanning for the redhead.

“Oh she saw you,” (Y/N) said, nodding lightly. “How could she ignore the way you fell off your broom?”

“Hey!” James said, his attention drawing back to (Y/N). “Almost. I almost fell off my broom, caught myself in the end,” he laughed, “wouldn’t want to spend this night with Poppy, would I?”

“Suppose not,” (Y/N) said, taking a sip from her glass. It was mostly  pumpkin juice, the scent alone was a giveaway, but one of (Y/N)’s roommates insisted on adding some firewhisky, just to shake things up. The warmth traveled to her chest with every sip. It wasn’t terribly unpleasant. “Wouldn’t want to give Evans the wrong idea about who you fancy, no?”

“I love Poppy,” James said, sighing lightly, leaning against the wall. “She really knows how to mend a broken bone…”

“What about a broken heart?” (Y/N) asked, pointing to a couple across the room. There, in the corner, Lily Evans and a Ravenclaw boy whose name escaped (Y/N)’s recollection. They looked to be awfully close, whispering sweet nothings in the midst of the crowded room.

“Why do you have to do that?” James asked, groaning ever so slightly. “Ruin my high?”

“It’s my job,” (Y/N) shrugged, taking another sip. “You know, friend code and all.”

“I don’t think that’s very friendly of you, (Y/N),” James said, eyes growing sharp.

“Look, either you saw it now or saw it later,” (Y/N) said nonchalantly. “I figured if I told you now, you’d at least have half a mind to go and try to change it, wouldn’t you?”

“I suppose you’re right,” James said, the dark look on his face contorting to one of intrigue. “Strike while the iron’s hot!”

“Exactly,” (Y/N) smiled, pushing his shoulder. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Without another word, James pounced across the crowded room, a faint shrieking of Lily’s name rang throughout the carpeted walls. (Y/N) laughed, noting how the girl’s emerald eyes met with the ceiling, pulling the boy dressed in blue away from James’ persistent swooning.

“Pumpkin juice? At a party?” A voice behind her chanted, nearly right next to her face. 

(Y/N) turned to the sound. There, in all his glory was Sirius Black, the man she had a less than ideal share of run-ins with. They were known to butt heads, ever since their first year.

“Oh, hello Sirius,” (Y/N) said cooly. She took a large swig of her drink, nearly half the cup in one go.

“Would you like me to fetch you a juice box too? Maybe a blankie?” Sirius laughed, finding himself leaning against the wall near (Y/N).

“Would it be one of yours? Because I’ve forgotten mine all the way back home…”(Y/N) said, the fakest smile she could muster adorned to her face.

“Funny girl,” Sirius said, downing the rest of whatever was in his cup, setting the empty chalice down near his feet. “Would you want it to be one of mine?”  

“And to be covered in dog hair?” (Y/N) said, nearly snorting. “Fat chance.”

“Oh come off it, (L/N),” Sirius grinned, “I’ll make it smell extra rugged, just for you.”

“Rugged how?” (Y/N) inquired, crossing her arms as best she could, drink still in hand. “Cigarettes and wet dog?”

“Exactly,” Sirius said, “extra rugged.”

“Right,” (Y/N) laughed, turning to ignore Sirius, her attention back onto James across the room. Sirius followed her eye line, watching her stare almost intently at the Gryffindor.

“Oi,” Sirius said, waving a hand in front of (Y/N)’s face. “Let him have his fun, he doesn’t need mummy around to keep an eye on him.”

“I’m not his mum,” (Y/N) said.

“Sure act like it,” Sirius said, picking at his fingernails. “Always doting on him, scolding him for every little thing—”

“I only scold him if it involves you, Sirius,” (Y/N) said, pointing an eyebrow at the grey-eyed boy. “The shit the two of you get into, I swear—”

“You shouldn’t have to scold him, you’re not his mum.”

“I literally just said I wasn’t,” (Y/N) said, growing annoyed. “I just care about him, okay? I’ve known him longer than you—thanks, by the way—so I think I owe it to myself to make sure he’s not going to kill himself—”

“Oh wow, little (L/N) pulling the ‘I’ve been his neighbor since forever, therefore I think I know everything about him’ card again,” Sirius said, his voice mocking (Y/N)’s. “Grow up, relax and let him have his fun.”

“Your impression of me is quite good, did you practice that in the mirror?” (Y/N) said, growing hot with anger, not that she’d give Black the time of day to know it.

“I think the key to a good (Y/N) impression is the shrillness in the voice,” Sirius said, nodding lightly. “Though your beautifully enchanting—but ice-cold—stare is hard to pinpoint, I’ll admit.”

“Beautifully enchanting?” (Y/N) laughed, the heat in her face not ceasing.

“Yep,” Sirius nodded, unashamed. “I figured talking about your big mouth was already pretty obvious, didn’t need to—”

(Y/N) slapped him hard against the arm.

“I should add terribly mean to the list,” Sirius mumbled, rubbing the place of contact, a slight grimace doting his expression.

“Terribly mean?” (Y/N) nearly laughed. “You’re the one saying I have a big mouth!”

“You do,” Sirius said, “not backing down from that one, never.”

“You annoy the hell out of me, Sirius,” (Y/N) said, finishing her glass. “I’m going to get another drink—”

“Allow me,” Sirius said, pressing a hand against (Y/N)’s chest, preventing her escape. He pulled his sleek wand from his back pocket, waving it ever so slightly. With ease, two—rather full—glasses found their way through the air, above the commotion of the room and into their space. “Take it,” he motioned to the still floating cup, taking a large swig of his, “I reckon a bit of actual alcohol will make you a bit more lively.”

“Please,” (Y/N) said, grabbing the glass tightly, bringing the brim to her lips. The hot burning of cinnamon met her tongue instantly. If she had a splash of firewhisky before, this might as well have been a tsunami, the liquor coating her throat. “Oh my God, how much is—”

(Y/N) let out a sputtering cough, unable to hold the liquid well. Sirius merely smiled.

“Peter’s been making them,” Sirius said, nodding to the pudgy Gryffindor across the room. “I tried teaching him how to count out his shots, but he’s still got a bit of work to go,” he took another sip, “though, makes for a hell of a punch, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll say,” (Y/N) said, eyeing the drink in her hand cautiously, “Why have you let Peter take over your usual job? Last time I came to one of these, I distinctly remember you were the one making the drinks.”

“Ah,” Sirius clicked, staring into his own cup. “Felt like I should give Peter a spin, considering he’s been nagging me about it practically all year.”

“Why’s that?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Easy,” he took another sip, “being the bartender means you get all the girls practically batting their eyes at you all night,” Sirius said, grinning widely. 

“Makes sense why you like the job so much,” (Y/N) said, pressing her back against the wall. “Those kind of girls can’t keep their eyes off of you.”

“So you’ve noticed?” Sirius smirked, “thought you didn’t may much mind to my life, isn’t that right?”

“O-of course not,” (Y/N) said, stammering lightly, “it’s hard to ignore the girls who throw themselves at you,” (Y/N) found herself burying her words into her cup, gulping quickly. “Hell, nearly all of my roommates can’t stop their insistent conversations about your hair—or whatever—halfway into the night. It’s exhausting.”

“What about my hair?” Sirius asked, bringing a hand up to his long locks. 

“Nope,” (Y/N) shook her head, “not falling for that one. You don’t get the pleasantries of me repeating compliments to stroke your already large ego,” she shook her head again. “No way.”

“So you think it’s huge?” Sirius said, glancing down at (Y/N), that shit eating grin plastered to his face. 

“Shove it.”

“Wouldn’t you like that pleasure, hm?”

“Sirius,” (Y/N) said plainly, “are you really flirting with me right now?”

“I might,” Sirius shrugged, almost unbothered.

It wouldn’t have been the first time he had done it. Sirius Black was anything if not perceptive to his surroundings, noting how his—what was hopefully an obvious joke—flirting flustered (Y/N) every so often. How he loved to push her buttons, make her squirm.

“Why don’t you go and try your luck on someone who’ll care?” (Y/N) sputtered, pointing her glass-filled hand over to a group of girls who had been staring at Sirius for so long, they might as well have been made of stone. “I’m sure you’d get a better reaction out of them, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Don’t want to flirt with them,” Sirius said, giving a polite wave to the girls across the way. One looked as if she was ready to faint. “Would rather annoy you.”

“How charming,” (Y/N) said, her voice cool as ice. 

“You’re not shooing me away,” Sirius said, almost in shock. “Normally this is the part of the conversation where you promise to hex me or,” he waved his hand dramatically, “go and complain to Potter. What gives?”

“I’m drunk,” (Y/N) lied, taking another sip as if to prove her point. “Sue me.”

“If you’re drunk, then I’m the Queen of England,” Sirius laughed, his chest bobbing up and down. “There’s more to it,” he pressed a finger to (Y/N)’s cheek, pushing her head to the side, “admit it. Go on, I’m all ears.”

“What do you want me to say, Black? That I fancy your company?” (Y/N) said, almost surprised at her honesty. Perhaps the firewhisky was working a bit faster than she expected. It had been a long time since she had as many drinks as she did, but she blamed the excess drinks on the grey eyed boy standing near her. 

“Fancy my company?” Sirius repeated, nearly as stunned as (Y/N). “Since when has that ever been the case?”

“Since all my friends ditched me,” (Y/N) said, staring back into her cup. “One of them went back to our dorm, a boy on each arm—Godric, I don’t even want to go back in there. I don’t know what I’m going to get myself into going back to that…”

“Rotten friends,” Sirius said, “even if they are getting laid. S’not right.”

“Figured it was either chat with you or look like a terribly sad fly on the wall,” (Y/N) said, “I chose the latter.”

“Honestly, I’m honored,” Sirius said, bowing lightly. “Truly and utterly honored to be of service.”

(Y/N) didn’t know why she had even bothered to spend another second with Sirius Black, if she was being completely honest. The entire time she had known him—first year, met on the train—he had been the constant thorn in her side. She clung to James quite a bit back then, that was something she could admit, but James acquiring another close friend, someone so unlike herself, really ground her gears. Black and (L/N), like oil and water, could coexist for a bit but never truly mix. 

“You should be,” (Y/N) said, feeling herself grow a bit lighter. The alcohol, she assumed was the cause, nothing more. “I’m surprised you’re even chatting with me this long anyway,” (Y/N) fought back a yawn, “thought my perfume would scare you away, has in the past.”

“It’s grown on me,” Sirius said plainly, “better than the rubbish James’ been using to woo Lily, stinks up the entire room.”

“Tell me about it,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the repugnant aroma that James swore up and down would win Lily over, the woman at the department store said so herself. “I told him when he bought it that it wouldn’t work, still didn’t listen.”

“He really doesn’t listen,” Sirius said, glancing over at James. He had been sulking in the corner, rejected by Lily. “But I reckon we could do him a favor.”

“A favor?” (Y/N) asked, draining the rest of her drink. “What’re you thinking?”

“Let’s go destroy that cologne,” Sirius said, pulling on (Y/N) sleeve, headed towards the dormitory. “Together. You know, since we’re friends now.”

“I never said that,” (Y/N) scoffed, following Sirius up the stairs, the lightness in her chest expanding. Sirius pulled (Y/N) into their room, conveniently empty. “Well? Where does James keep the bottle?”

“Not sure,” Sirius said, shutting the door, getting a stink eye from (Y/N), “what? I don’t want Prongs walking in here while we destroy his property.”

“Fine,” (Y/N) laughed, flinging herself onto James’ bed, rolling to the foot. She propped herself onto her elbows, head hanging over the bright red trunk at the end of the bed.  “Do you think it’s in his trunk?”

“Seems like a good place to start,” Sirius said, kneeling before the trunk, hands tracing the latches. “You’re going to want to move your head, sweets,” Sirius laughed, pushing (Y/N)’s head back, “wouldn’t want to hit your pretty face, would we?”

“So you think it’s pretty?” (Y/N) smirked, pursing her lips. She could almost see Sirius’ eyes roll to the back of his head, for just a moment. “What? So you can flirt with me, but I can’t dish it back? Seems awfully silly, Black.”

“Wasn’t flirting,” Sirius said, rifling through James’ trunk.

“No?” (Y/N) giggled, rolling to her back, the top of James’ red four-poster filling her sight. “You called me pretty.”

“And you are,” Sirius said, lifting up a few books, eyes scanning the contents beneath them. “It’s the truth.”

“So that’s not considered flirting?” (Y/N) asked, growing confused.

“I call all the girls pretty,” Sirius said, smirking up at (Y/N). “Fact of life, sweets.”

“There you go again,” (Y/N) said, pointing her finger upwards, “calling me ‘sweets’! If that’s not flirting, I don’t know what is!”

“Is it?” Sirius asked, closing the trunk. A large smirk was plastered to his face.

“Holy fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed, throwing her hands into her face. “You are so aggravating! First you’re flirting with me, then you claim that you’re not and now you’re just playing mind games with me!” (Y/N) groaned, rolling back onto her chest, face planted into the sheets. “I wish you came with instructions, for fucks sake. At least then I’d be able to somewhat understand you.”

“You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions, love,” Sirius said, head resting comfortably on his hand.

“What kind of a line is—”

It was then when she lifted her head, (Y/N) noticed, how close Sirius’ face was to her own. She never noticed the mole on his nose, slightly above his left nostril. Granted, she had never been this close to Sirius before to have noticed the little brown spot. Actually, now that she looked a bit closer, Sirius Black had a few other moles on his cheeks and one right above his lips. If one didn’t know any better, they’d mistake them for freckles. The sporadic placement of these little marks were enchanting, almost like a perfect constellation, unique and intriguing.

“I—uhm—you’re a little close,” (Y/N) said, not moving an inch.

“Hypocrite,” Sirius said, staying as still as a statue.

“Did—did you find the…” (Y/N) tried to find her thought, her mind wandering, finding a home in Sirius’ grey eyes. 

“Cologne? No,” Sirius shook his head ever so slightly, eyes not breaking away from (Y/N)’s.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

(Y/N) moved her gaze upward, finding solace in the rich reds of the canopy above. In her most recent memory, she couldn’t come up with a time she felt exactly this way, let alone with Sirius Black of all people. She waited a moment before peeking back at the boy at the foot of the bed, her eyes flicking immediately back up to the canopy when she noticed Sirius’ gaze still upon her.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re hard to look away from,” Sirius said, finally adjusting his position.

“Shut it—”

“No,” Sirius said, his voice almost stern. (Y/N) brought herself to turn herself back towards the Gryffindor, curious. “I said what I said.”

“You’re drunk,” (Y/N) laughed, pushing his face away, finding the bit of breathing room she created immensely calming for a moment.

“I’m not,” Sirius said, rebounding to his original position quickly, if not closer. “Are you?”

“No,” (Y/N) said honestly.  

“Good.”

That was all he said. Because in the next moment, Sirius’ lips were on (Y/N)’s. The hand that held his own head up was caressing (Y/N)’s cheek, more gentle than the actions against their lips. The kiss was hot, needy, almost. The tension had snapped like a rubber band, quick and suddenly. But just as quick as it came, (Y/N) pulled away.

“Sirius what the—”

“Oh come on,” Sirius laughed, hopping up onto the trunk, seated neatly in front of (Y/N). “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about doing that? Besides,” a hand stroked his chin thoughtfully, “you kissed me back.”

“That’s—no—Sirius!” (Y/N) was at a loss for words, the warmth that had radiated from her chest had spread to her entire body in that single motion, what once she could’ve blamed on the alcohol became very telling of her true feelings. She couldn’t deny that she didn’t kiss him back, because that would’ve been an outright lie. Only one thought rang through her mind. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Sirius asked, his grin fading. (Y/N) shook her head. “Well, you must really be thick, then,” he ran a hand through his hair, pushing the stray locks back, “well, considering our sexual tension is always so thick you could cut it with a knife—”

“Sexual tension?” (Y/N) laughed, almost against herself. “Is that what you call it?”

“I mean, sure, it started with a visceral hate for one other—first year was a rough one for that—but you can’t deny our chemistry,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “Who would’ve thought I’ve got the hots for the girl who made my blood boil every time I saw her?”

“Made? Like, past tense?”

“Of course,” Sirius nodded, “well, I suppose you make my blood boil in other ways, sweets.”

“Disgusting,” (Y/N) laughed, pushing Sirius away.

“But you could say in less ways and words that I fancy you, (Y/N),” he shrugged again, “I mean, you’re the only person in this castle who’ll call me out for my bullshit—”

“Incorrect, Remus and various other teachers do too—”

“You’re the only one who calls me out for my bullshit that I’ll listen to,” Sirius corrected, “what can I say? You don’t fawn over me or trip over yourself to get my attention. Quite frankly, you avoid me whenever possible.”

“So, you’re saying you like the chase?”

“Something like that,” Sirius laughed, placing a hand on the bed. “Not to mention that you’re bloody beautiful,” he moved his hand to touch hers, ever so lightly, “and you already get along with my mates—”

“One of them was my best friend before you trailed along, thanks,” (Y/N) said, her smirk growing. She didn’t hate the way his hand felt atop of hers.

“And I’m forever grateful for it,” Sirius said, his face softening. “Grateful for James for introducing me to the biggest pain in my ass.”

“Not the smoothest way to pick up a girl,” (Y/N) laughed.

“But it’s working, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) smiled, feeling her own face relax. “For some reason.”

(Y/N) allowed herself to give Sirius another kiss, this time, one she initiated. It was softer than before, but still held every ounce of energy like the last. As if like a bucket of ice water had been poured over them, (Y/N) pulled away.

“Wait a minute,” (Y/N) pressed her hand against Sirius’ chest, as he had begun to seek the previous contact. “You let Peter make the drinks tonight.”

“And...?”

“Oh my God!” (Y/N) said, feeling a wave of realization come over her. “You were planning this all along!”

“Well—uhm—not exactly like—”

“Admit it, Sirius Black,” (Y/N) said, poking a finger to his chest, “admit that you let Peter take over your prestigious bartending duties so you could try and woo me!” 

“Woo you? What are we? Fifty?”

“Sirius—”

“Alright,” Sirius laughed, pressing a kiss to (Y/N)’s nose. “I admit it. I figured tonight wouldn’t be the worst time to try to make a move, so I needed to be mobile.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” (Y/N) laughed, pressing her lips back onto his, resuming their previous motions. 

While the two had quite a bit more to talk about after their laughter ceased—and things that involved not talking—(Y/N) grew ever more thankful that she chose to attend the gathering this evening. While Sirius still had quite the long way to make up for his previous jokes and pranks he had pulled on (Y/N) in the past—one really can’t forget the forever sticking chewing gum that plastered her robes all of second year—he figured a bit of smooth talking could glaze over any of the cracks. That, and kisses she’d be damned to forget the rest of her life. Two remedies for a sour situation.  

They never did find that cologne. 

__

General Tag List: @maralisa124 / @leighxlover / @hey-its-me-rai / @missihart23 / @biatheintrovert / @luna-xxxxx / @chocolaterumble / @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy / @steve-thotgers / @greeneyedthief / @kitkatkl / @thelightsideoflife / @thataudreydork / @badgirlsdeaddreams / @meteora-fc

Sirius Black Tag List: @knowledgeisthebomb

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[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Twelve: A Red Blanket ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Tenkai, Uchiha Chikyū ] [ SasuHina, pregnancy ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

It was a baby shower gift at the beginning. A soft, velvety blanket of a muted red - not too bright, but not too dull. No pattern, no fancy stitching. Just something for the newborn Uchiha when the day would finally arrive.

Hinata, still a ways off from meeting her firstborn upon receiving it, had cooed in appreciation. First blankets, first toys, first clothes: all were important milestones and things children tended to cling to for many of the first years of their lives. She herself had received a little plush bunny on the day of her birth from her aunt she’d kept for years and years, only retiring it once the threads had run too bare and its stuffing was nearly more outside than in. So Hinata knew well how much a first gift could mean.

“This is perfect! I’m sure they’ll love it,” she’d offered with a smile. Red, of course, was an infamous color for the clan she found herself married into, no matter how small. Most of the things gifted that day followed the Uchiha color scheme.

How funny she thought it would be if their first child ended up taking after her side of things.

Sasuke, however, was certain long before the birth that not only would they be Uchiha genetically (or in simpler terms, be born with the ability to awaken the Sharingan), but they would also be a boy.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Just call it a fatherly instinct. I really can’t claim more than that. After all, my parents had two boys.”

Hinata just laughed. “And mine two girls! I’m not sure you have much of a basis for this besides wanting an Uchiha boy.”

“Can you blame me”

“...no.” Of course she’d understood. Having a son with his kekkei genkai would mean Sasuke’s lineage could carry on, in both genes and in name. His dreams of bringing the clan back to its former glory and population had, by then, long faded. And part of him claimed he’d rather see them slip peacefully into memory. But even he couldn’t deny not wanting to be the last.

Of course, their child had cousins. But all, due to the lack of people, were half blood Uchiha. Sooner or later, without significant inbreeding, the Uchiha would - as Sasuke wanted - quietly go into the night as their blood thinned.

Part of it made Hinata sad, but...considering the clan’s long and bloody history...she could also understand.

And the day she finally went into labor that August, she had to wonder if Sasuke really was able to read minds. The baby, once free, was declared a boy. And upon opening his eyes, twin dark irises peeked out.

Not a sure sign, but...well, there’d never been a Hyūga with dark eyes before.

“Remind me never to bet against you in anything,” she’d murmured, tone exhausted. “Not that I would, but...clearly you have eyes even I can’t beat…”

Sasuke had simply snorted, looking to his new little family with a myriad of emotions flickering across his face like sped-through TV channels. “...should we start taking wagers on number two?”

“You want to talk about number two now...with me fresh out of labor?”

“...maybe later, then.”

Once mother and baby were permitted to go home, Hinata settled their son - named Tenkai, for the earth - in his new crib, along his new red blanket.

“There...that’s just for you,” she’d murmured, stroking a finger along his cheek. Already a tuft of dark hair was untamed atop his head.

Just like his father.

And so began the tradition of Tenkai sleeping with his blanket. Wherever he went, the blanket had to go, too. It was his play rug in the sitting room, his swaddle when carried around the house, the thing he slept upon for naps and at night, and the belonging he most obviously became attached to.

Whenever Hinata had to wash it...it was a warzone. He’d cry and cry until reunited, appeased with the soft plushness freshly warm from the dryer whenever it was returned. Once he was old enough to comprehend the need, he’d sit in front of the washer and watch it turn until he could finally have it back.

His sister, Chikyū, was more like their mother: in both appearance, and her choice of object. She had a plush lamb that was her constant companion. Not a very talkative or social child, she instead preferred to mime with her toys, and little lambie was her favorite. She’d mostly leave her brother to his blanket, but...well, there were times when it would be fought over. Though Tenkai was, as a bit older, more mature and inclined to share...Chikyū was of the mind to simply...take.

And thus came the first scar: a tear along a corner from a rather heated tug-of-war.

Tenkai had been devastated.

Hinata had immediately began emergency surgery, finding thread a close color in her sewing kit and doing up the rip by hand. Tenkai had sat tearfully nearby while his sister sulked guiltily in the next room.

“There we go...right as rain,” Hinata announced once finished, handing it over and watching her son quickly cling to the fabric. “Now...we’ve surely learned an important lesson today, haven’t we Chikyū…?”

Making her way back in, the girl had just somberly nodded.

From there...the occasional accident would happen. It once got caught in a shut door as Tenkai was walking, and another split nearly tore it in half. Various spills - drinks, food, paint - would sully it, and some leaving stains Hinata did her darndest to remove...and yet even she couldn’t always work miracles.

And then came the fateful day when Tenkai claimed he didn’t need it anymore.

“Are you sure…?”

“Yeah...I’m sure,” he’d offered softly.

Hinata looked to her son with a hint of worry. “...did someone make fun of you for it? You know you don’t have to listen to anyone else if it makes you happy.”

“No, kāchan. I’m just getting too old for a blankie, okay?”

“...okay. I’ll put it away for you, all right?” She gave him a warm smile. “Someday, you might change your mind...or at least want to remember.”

He hadn’t replied, just handing over the rather battle-worn blanket before taking his leave.

Looking over the hardy fabric, Hinata just smiled to herself. It had had a long, tough life...so maybe a little retirement would be well-earned. Rips, stains, and patch jobs...all in all, it looked pretty sad.

So, she folded it into a neat little square, tucking it up into the back of Tenkai’s closet. Someday, she knew, he’d remember it.

Just like the little bunny plush she kept in a drawer in her and Sasuke’s room.

But until then, it would wait here diligently, filled with all the memories of a little boy who loved it.

                                                         .oOo.

     Sorry this is so short, but...guh, had a long day, and my head is killing me, but darn it I wanted to get this done @~@      Just some random fam jam fluff, really...I wanted to write more but I'm lucky I got as far as I got OTL      Anyway, I'm gonna go try to sleep this off. Thanks for reading~

[peakyblindersbitch]

Home

Synopsis: Alfie is living the dream. He is married to a beautiful woman,with a beautiful little girl. He makes more money each year than most people will see during their entire life, and has created an empire. But he’s still learning t deal with domestic life.

Pairing: Modern!Alfie x Reader

Warnings: None

GIF Credit: Google

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Fuck off. Maybe you should sleep at work again.” I whisper, shutting the door in my soon to be ex-husband’s face. His work kept him preoccupied for the majority of our daughter’s life. Every single birthday, awards ceremony, or football game, she had been left to ask the same question: Where’s papa? The first time that I heard this, the innocent words broke my heart, but after the thirtieth time, I found myself speaking the same words on repeat. Papa is at work. He’ll be home tonight. He promised. It was a well intententioned lie, no different than Santa or the Tooth Fairy. I curse to myself as I stomp into the kitchen, reminding myself after the fact, that our daughter, Charlotte is fast asleep in our bed upstairs, no doubt tamgled in the rag she refused to throw out: her blankie. I pour myself a large glass of wine and take a seat on the leather couch, petting Cyril’s coarse fur. “What are we to do boy? Your father is so busy, it just hurts my heart. I want to be with him, the way couples should. It sometimes feels like we aren’t even married.” I confess to the animal, wiping a single tear from my cheek, and setting down the glass on the coffee table as I hear a tap at the glass door across from me. I slowly approach the sound, opening the curtains slightly, to see Alfie standing there. A sheepish smile rests on his full pink lips, and a single flower in his hand, while he once again taps his cane on the glass pane. I unlock the door and open it, allowing him shelter from the harsh wind and bitter cold.

“Fuckin’ hell, my own wife, tryna kill me. How’ll you and our daughter like it when I don’t got any fingers or toes? Speaking of, how was the ceremony? Straight A’s, yeah? Fuck, sure doesn’t get it from me.” He winks, attempting to be charming enough to make me forget my rage. My heart warms slightly at the mention of our daughter, and while I’ve forgiven him and let him into our home, I’m still ultimately pretty angry. I turn on my heels and head up the stairs, and into our bedroom. I slowly open the door, and shut it behind me, sliding the small lock into place, and sliding into bed. I smile a little at the sight of the ragged greyish material draped over her small body, and my hands reach over to Charlie to pull the fallen comforter up to her chin, before staring up at the ceiling and trying to fall asleep.

My thoughts wander to Alfie, of course. He’s my husband, the man I chose to spend my life with, despite numerous other men competing for my affection. He had been the kindest, funniest, and most attentive of any of the men I had dated, and I had fallen in love with both his caring nature and crude sense of humor, and in all honestly, the fact that he was well endowed. Of course, I would never willingly separate from Alfie, but the idea of having a divorce has popped into my head on more than one occasion. He had broken our daughter’s trust too many times. Too many broken promises to both her and myself. He isn’t a bad man, he’s quite the opposite, the kindest and most giving man I’ve ever met, but he can’t seem to find the time to tear himself away from his precious work and give his family a single night. As I think, tears form in my eyes for the second time tonight. If Alfie and I were to get a divorce, what would be the consequences? Would Charlie be left wondering why her parents separated? Would she blame herself? Surely it would impact her emotionally, just as it had when my parents split nearly two and a half decades ago, when I was no older than her. I don’t want my daughter, our daughter, to go through the same pain I did, so I make a promise to myself. We will make this work. For her, even if we never feel the same intense love we had when we were first married, we can make this work. With a idea in my head and strong will in my heart, I finally fall asleep. My mind drifts into dreamland, and the dreams are out of sequence, in different times and different places. Even my appearance changes as though I’m different people all at one time. The only constants are Charlie and Alfie. I wake to Charlie’s cold feet on my side and I groan quietly, opening my eyes to the bright stream of light entering through our opened window. I bring myself to my feet, the floorboards beneath my feet creaking under my weight. I lift my pink fuzzy robe into myself and take a look at Charlie. She’s still sleeping, blankets covering nearly half her face. I smile to myself and exit the room quietly, walking down the stairs. I’m surprised when Cyril isn’t there at the stairs to greet me, to barrel at me with the force of a seven foot tall, three hundred pound man, as Alfie and I had always joked. I wearily continue down the stairs, to see Cyril laying in his bed, head rested atop his large paws, and a sad expression on his face. As I continue towards him, I get a good view of Alfie. He’s sitting up on the couch, eyes red and puffy. I move towards him and he picks up the laptop that had been resting on the wooden table, opening the screen and passing the device to me. That’s when i know he knows. The google search ‘divorce lawyers in london’ is shown on the screen, and before I can speak a word, Alfie cuts in.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, voice staying steady as he gets the words out, and from his expression alone, I know he’s about to break down.

“Alfie- I-“ I start, and find myself at loss for words. I so want to explain to him that the search was a something I had half thought at about midnight after a bottle and a half of Rosé.

“I asked you a question. Is this what you want? Why didn’t you tell me? You know I won’t fight if you really want this. I just want to make you happy.” He says, head falling into his hands. I want to run over to him and embrace him in a bear hug, tell him that I didn’t mean a thing by that, and I love him more than I can express, but I can’t.

“It’s not what I want Alfie. I love you, but this might be what I- what we need. How many birthdays have you missed? All of them. Every single one! You didn’t see her first word or her first step or her first day of school!” My voice gets louder as I finish my statement, not caring about waking our daughter.

“You think I chose to do that? That I wanted to stay away from my wife and my little girl? You know me a lot better than that pet, you know I love you both more than anything in this world, but my work is important. How do you think I bought this house for us? What about that rock on your hand there? You think I just pull millions of dollars out of my ass?“ He asks, rising to a standing position and towering over me.

“Alfie I don’t want to fight. This is all that happens when we see one another. I don’t think I can make this work anymore. And don’t you dare think I’m pulling this to get any of your money, because frankly I don’t give half a shit. I want my daughter to life a better life, and maybe if we split that will happen for her.” I say, sitting at the kitchen table with my head in my hands.

“Get the papers then darlin. I’ll sign em but I sure as hell won’t let you take my daughter away from me.” He says, following me and placing a firm hand onto my shoulder.

“Papa!” The little girl runs down the stairs and embraces her father’s leg. His tired eyes gaze down at her and I can tell that it takes all of his strength as he picks her up with a smile plastered on his cheeks.

“Darlin! Your mother and I was speaking about taking you somewhere special to celebrate your grades. Such a smart little girl, just like mama.” He kisses her cheeks and he giggles in delight. I stand to make us both coffee and rest my head on the hard wood cabinets

“Alf, let her get dressed before you start on that.” I call over to my husband, pouring the black liquid into two cups as he sets her down and she runs back up the stairs and into her bedroom. He follows me into the kitchen once again and stands just behind me.

“I want to make this work baby, I don’t want a divorce. Just seeing our daughter, she’s so beautiful and perfect, and you know what? We created her together when we were in love and I want that love back. I’ll sign anything if you really want it but know I don’t want to leave you both. Please, think about it darlin.” He says, placing a kiss behind my ear and grabbing a cup off coffee with cream.

I nod my head in response and look back at him. “Alfred, I want to fall back in love with you. But I need you to do one thing for me, please. Don’t leave us for days and go out with those bimbos. Just stay home with us and be a normal husband and father.” I say as I place A kiss to his lips, the first one in months. He nods eagerly in response and pulls me to him once more, kissing my lips as eagerly as ever.

“Let’s make this work.” I grin as our lips separate for a brief moment. Alfie only nods in response, resting his chin atop my head.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[cartooness]

Sweet as a Peach

HELLO!! IT ME, CARTOONESS!!! This is a fic about masonder. Keep in mind I’m not a fantastic writer, but I’ll try. ENJOY! OwO (idk what i’m doing lol)

here’s a read more just incase 

(Lav’s perspective)

It felt absolutely wonderful to be in Mason’s company. Whether it be at school in the cafeteria, going out and about as a group with their friends, or when he came over to her house for homework help, or, her personal favorite, cuddling and snuggling with him on the couch or in her room. Arthur, Lewis, and Vivi always made sure the door was at least open a crack so they could check up on them to make sure they don’t fall asleep (It would take a while to wake them up).

On a particular Monday, a certain Mason asked to hang out with a certain Lavender after school. No real reason, since it was testing week and there would be no homework at all that week, so it would be the perfect time to just. Relax with Lav. Since her “house” was very far away, Lav teleported both of them to the, as she called it, “not really haunted” mansion. In a moment they arrived to their destination and oddly enough, nobody was home yet. They set their bags by the door and got on their usual spot; the mauve couch in the living room.

The two teens instantly snuggled up against each other and, like many other students after school, checked their social medias. Lavender only got two minutes in before she glanced up at Mason. She was going to show him something, but stopped mid thought. She found herself staring up at his face, taking in all his features. From his light auburn hair, to his bright silver eyes, leading to his cute button nose, and was especially staring at those healthy, soft looking lips-

“Woah there Lav, don’t get so ahead of yourself”, she hastily thought to herself. “Stop staring at his…lips...you weirdo.” She didn’t stop staring. She looked at his lips with an intensity that rivaled a blazing fire, she wanted to kiss them so bad she imagined how wonderful it would feel to embrace him like that and how sweet he must be. Oh how amazing would it be to have her first kiss with-

“Lavender? Are you oka-”

“Can I kiss you, please?” Oh fuck. Oh no. I was caught off guard and I said it out loud and now everything’s going down the drain and I’ve messed up everything, God I’m such a - her volatile thoughts were stopped at a hand being brushed against her cheek, instantly making her stop mid-thought. Mason was looking at her with an incredibly flustered expression, and his eyes were shining much brighter than they normally do. The two sat there in silence until he spoke up, voice just above a whisper, “Yes.” She was absolutely over the moon that he had agreed. Trying not to make her voice not sound completely lovestruck and just, overall absolutely smitten for this boy, she shakily replied, “O-okay, on the, uh, count of th-three. One, two, three-”

They closed the space between them with a soft kiss for what was about four seconds before departing. Mason was grinning ear to ear, smile brighter than the sun, and was holding back the urge to squeal with happiness. His whole face was warm and lovestruck and hoped he could kiss her again. Lavender, on the other hand, was sure her heart was going to beat out of her chest any second now with how enamoured she was with him. She had to use every ounce of self control she had to not scoop him up in her arms and kiss him ‘till she couldn’t anymore. A tense silence had developed as they were alone with their own thoughts.

Mason broke the silence with a light chuckle, gazing into Lavender’s beautiful deep axinite eyes with a loving expression, forehead against hers, his hands cupping her face. “Can we… do that again?”, he asked, voice soft. Lav was strawberry red, and had a smile on her face that was all teeth and breathlessly replied “yes please”, immediately wrapping her arms around him, one hand on his back and the other on his cheek. His face heated up, a blush quickly creeping up his neck. In return, Mason wrapped his hands just above her waist, breathing hard.

With no hesitation they went back in, more fuel behind the kiss, attempting to figure out how the actual heck you actually kiss people. After trying (and failing) to figure out how their lips should meet, they had a ‘forget it, just do whatever’ moment and just went in for the kill. It was very awkward for the first couple seconds, until slowly but surely they melted into the kiss, both completely enamoured to the moon and back with each other. Hands were either tangled into the other’s hair or wrapped firmly around the other’s waist, with Mason now sitting on Lavender’s lap. Needless to say, they were knee deep with lust for each other, and them kissing was like receiving therapy for problems they didn’t even know they had.

Nearly a whole minute later, they departed, left breathless and gasping for air. Both were flushed with a deep red, lips swollen, and now looking into each other’s eyes. They could have stayed like that forever, cherishing every little detail on their faces. With a giggle, Lavender cupped Mason’s face with her hands and planted many simple kisses all over his face, him giggling in return. “Wow. That was… absolutely wonderful, Lav.” “Yeah. It was…” They were now holding hands, a seemingly permanent blush on their faces, and Mason, smooth as they come, pressed a mellow kiss to her right hand. “What do want to do now, my lovely? Can I call you that? (uwu)”

A furious blush crept back onto her face, “Lovely?”, she thought to herself, “Is he trying to kill me? My heart can’t take a name like that!” Deep inside she loved the idea of having a pet name, but had no idea it’d feel like someone lit your heart on fire the first time you got one. With a sharp breath, she replied, “Okay, you can call me that. In return, I get to call you…”, she took a moment to consider what she’d call him, and instantly came up with one that she knew would fluster him just as much as he did her. “Button. ‘Cause you have an adorable button nose,” she chimed, booping his nose in the process. Just as according to plan, he instantly turned dark pink and promptly hid his face with his hands, “you are going to be the death of me, Lovely.”, he commented with a cheeky grin. “Not if you kill me first, Button.”, she replied, just as quickly.

“What am I going to do with you, Mason?”, she inquired, twirling his hair around her finger. “You could… snuggle up in a nice blanket with me while I cover your face with chaste kisses.”, he implored with a small blush on his face. “I-if you want to, of course-” “I would love to, Button. Let me go get one from the blankie closet, hold on.” And a minute later, they were snuggled up on the couch cuddling each other just as Lewis came home. “Hey guys, what’ve y’all been doing?” With a glance to one another, the teens simply replied, “We’ve just… been here, chilling.” “Uh-huh, explain that to my deadbeat that’s been watching the house all day.”

“WHAT?!?!”, they exclaimed. Sure enough, a cheery purple deadbeat returned to Lewis’ side at that very moment. “Now, are you two dating now? Or do you want to wait for Vivi and Arthur to come home and hover over you two more than I ever could with twelve million questions while you try to explain?”, questioned the magenta ghost with a smirk. “Well”, began Mason, “That’s a very… long story there, and I’ll bet that Lavender here would LOVE to tell you allllll about it with me. Isn’t that right, Lovely?” “Well I guess it is, Button.”

“Gasp!! You guys have pet names already?! Tell me EVERYTHING.”, insisted Lewis with an excitement that could rival a small child’s. And everything they told.

@knight-the-king @thefearanddespair uwu 

[iammarylastar]

6. Back to Life.

" Morning Cup" Angie smiles.

"Morning love" I smile back, rolling to my side so I face her, eliciting more mewls from the sleeping babies.

I brush lightly both of their curls, resettling Belle's head and Anna's feet against my chest, then cup their mother's cheek.

"You good?" She whispers, nuzzling into my touch.

"Yeah. Never get tired of that kind of wake up."

" Wanna cuddle with me?" I ask after a beautiful, everlasting stare, where we silently told ourselves all that words couldn't express. As much as I love having my babies with me, it's fair to say I really need... you know, her.

I lean forward to kiss her forehead before carefully gathering the twins, my flesh and bones and take them to the tiny bed they've been sharing since their births. Turning and snuggling, my cuties settle themselves half over each other, Anna covering her sister with her arm, Belle nuzzling in her neck.

Jesus this sigh only nearly has me in tears, I protectively cover them with the sheet and place their blue blankies under their arms.

Angie sewed them from my blue shirt, the one she made for me in our former life, the one I was wearing the night before I left for the rescue mission. The one who still smelled like me when the girls were born, Angie confessed me yesterday, despite all the tears she left on it, crying over and over again when she figured out I wouldn't come back.

A last kiss on their sleepy heads and I crawl back to bed with my love, the fucking love of my life, who I've been missing so deep, for so long.

We intertwin our limbs together and creep as close as we could, my hand sneaking under the shirt she's wearing, her hand on my bare chest.

Our bodies quickly find their place, like they used to, and we both sigh in contentment, unexpectedly followed by our babies hums. Like parents like twins, we just laugh at the sync.

" Nice shirt, fits you." I slowly stroke up and down her spine, making her shiver.

"Thank you. Notice, no coffee stain. I took good care of your shirts since they were the last things I got from you." She jokes.

I could have laugh at the coffee thing, but those last words cut me off. A huge wave of sadness crashes me down and I just succumb to desperation. My smirk vanishes as pain takes over me and I can't hold back the river of tears that uncontrollably burn my cheeks.

Burying my head and my shame in her neck, I let go all the unsustainable guilt that still floods in my veins.

"I'm sorry... Oh Angie I'm so sorry..." I manage to mutter between sobs, as warm tears wet her neck.

Shuddering, my voice unsteady and trembling, I keep the words flowing out.

" Angie, I swear I did everything I could to find you back. I've never stopped searching for you... but... I... I'm so sorry I left you. I'm so ashamed you got to go through this. It's my fault..."

I'm actually crying like a baby, shushed and lulled by my sweet love which has me cry harder.

"Shhh... It's OK. It's fine honey."

"Please forgive me Angie. It kills me it took me so long..."

" You're back to me. To us. Nothing else matters."

She pulls me on top of her and kisses my temples, then pushes me back so she can stare at me, forgiving all my weaknesses and failures.

"Thank you. For fighting for us."

"Oh God Angie, you don't know how much I love you."

"Show me." She mouthes, the ring of her lips calling mines.

And that's what I do. I make love to her, slowly, deeply, tenderly. There's nothing about having sex, nothing about seeking any kind of release, nothing like the hot and sexy prowesses we used to have. It was just about feeling complete again. Feeling alive again. Being home. Me and my love, finally united as one.

Resting on my elbows as I slowly thrust in and out of her, exploring the slightest piece of her, I don't stop staring at her, but to kiss her lips, her soul and some warm tears. Her hips move in sync with me, welcoming each of my move, our skins sweating all the love we have for each other, until we're both taken by a blissful orgasm that leaves us breathless and utterly satisfied.

Can't get tired of that kind of wake up, definitely. My love humming her last waves of pleasure under me, her hands on my lower back, keeping me from rolling to the side because "she loves my weight on her" as she told me on our first time together. For Heaven 's sake, make it happen every single day.

"Marry me Angie. Marry me. Today. Now. I can't wait any longer for you to be my wife."

She gives me the sweetest smile, stroking my jawline with the tip of her forefinger.

"Actually I already am." She mocks me.

"What?" Today was supposed to be quiet and uneventful. If you wanted to surprise me, please do it yesterday.

"How do you figure out I could be your widow if we weren't actually married?" She smiles.

"Did I miss something? Cause all I know is our wedding was a fucking disaster to which I even couldn't attend." I narrow my eyes.

"After Gessepp was impeached, Jessie and I were offered to go back to the US. Jess earned a spousal and child support from the court, but I was without resources, without you and with child. Debrah, remember Deb'?"

I nod. Oh yes tell me about her. She led me to you honey.

" She faked the date on the marriage license with the help of the pastor, so I was sure to draw a pension but, I didn't plan to stay your widow forever. I knew, I felt you were alive."

My wife is the best. A real badass. Debrah already told me about that but I haven't realized it meant we were married. It might have saved all the girls lives, but it feels as frustrating as it sounds.

" That was smart and nice of them. But I want a real wedding. One I actually attend. One where I can watch you walk down the aisle, one where I can marvel at you in a wedding dress. I want to see your face when I recit my vows, I want to hear your voice saying 'I do'. I want to take your hand and slide a ring on your finger. Oh and I want to kiss you before the pastor says I can." I add excitedly, which makes her laugh.

"That sounds nice. And romantic. Though I was expecting you to talk about the honeymoon." That beautiful hottie knows me so well.

Having sex with her just minutes ago has erased all the shyness and weirdness that has stuck to my skin since yesterday. I'm now back to my old self, kinky and funny, ready to tease her to death. It seems all my confidence is back, so does my arousal, I'm horny as fuck.

"Oh darling, I'm going to take you all the ways possible and after what I'm going to do to you, nobody could call you an angel anymore. I read the Kama Sutra and I'm ready to study each page with you."

"Kama what?" She lifts an eyebrow questioningly.

"It's a Hindi book, pretty popular in Asia."

That part of my Japanese education was pretty hard to handle... all by myself. I had Sensei giving me tips to maximize the efficiency of each position, to make the girl scream your name louder, I was struggling not to fall in love with Mikomi who waved her stunning beauty under my nose day after day, I haven't fucked anyone for months , even not my right hand despite all the erotic dreams that woke me up at the crack of dawn... Once he said I looked so miserable and offered me to visit Manek who surely would take care of my source of unease. Manek was the professional sex goddess of the village, known to be extremely talented. I immediately ran away to jump into the nearest pool, needing cold water and a look at those ugly coi carps to cool me down. I swear Sensei laughed so hard he fell on his back.

"Stop showing off by using words nobody can understand, smart ass. Is it something like the holy Bible or another scripture?" She cutely questions.

I can't help myself but laugh out loud. The Holy Bible! A devilish grin widens on my lips, I make my best to keep a straight face, enlightening her with my best baryton sultry voice.

"It's scripture yes, it talks about love and what a husband has to do to pleasure his wife. Pretty much detailed pictures of how a man and a woman can... nest together."

She bursts into uncontrollable and loud laugher, making the twins startle and has to cover her mouth with her hand and bite her lips not to wake up the whole house.

I love hearing my angel laugh out loud, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Happiness. That's something I'm gonna get used to from now on.

Once again my feelings overflow and my heart speaks for me:

"I want to raise our daughters with you. I want to make more babies with you. I want to touch your belly as they grow inside you. I want to be with you for the birth. I just want to be here, happy with you forever."

"Like I'm gonna let you go." She laughs. "And wait to spend just a week taking care of the girls before speaking of having other babies. Because between all the sex you promised me and raising baby twins, you'd be pretty exhausted, you big stud."

We both laugh, it feels so good to be close again.

"I'm gonna be the man you deserve. Here." I roll to my other side to dig out from the pocket of my trousers the precious ring I promised myself to give her in person, at any cost.

"This is the first thing I did when I arrived in America. It took me a whole month to earn the money but it helped me to keep going on."

"What if you didn't have found me?" She teases me, rising an eyebrow.

" So I would have asked the first chick named Angie to marry me. Look, our names are engraved in the inner ring." I make the ring roll between my fingers, so she can read the message "Angie I love thee Cup"

"Stop this." She chuckles and slaps my shoulder, before grabbing the ring and sliding it around her finger.

"What?" I ask. I know I'm terrible at proposing. Last time I did, I had no ring and Angie practically said the words for me. This time sucks as well, at least I have the ring but it seems it's not romantic as she expected.

"Stop being that cute. You, Softie..."

Softie... I don't feel like I'm that whiny baby anymore. I've cried enough for a lifetime, from now on I'm going to be the man Sensei taught me. Strong and unbreakable. Head of my family, caring father for my children, trustful husband for my wife.

"OK, so how do you want me to be, Ma'am?"

"You said something about nesting with me? I'm curious as to what you have in mind..." she says seductively.

"Ahmmm, sure the girls won't wake up?" I glance at the cot where our babies lie.

She nods. "No worry in that department, they sleep like rocks till 7. We got at least one hour, if it's long enough for you."

I smirk widely, then roll back so I hover over her.

"Let's have some fun then."

My lips work in tandem with my hand to arouse her whole body, stroking, licking and kissing languourously every piece of flesh I can, until I meet her glistening folds. Kneeling between her thighs, I grab her hips and jerk her waist on my lap, the head of my dick red and throbbing in anticipation. I bend down to kiss her belly while my cock thrusts into her core, eliciting the sexiest sound that has ever passed her lips. With the tip of her toes resting on the mattress, her knees each sides of my hip, she starts to move her waist up and down, swallowing me deeper and deeper. Fuck, it feels so fucking good I can't hold back a grunt, way much louder than expected.

From where I stand, I have the best view of my stunning beauty, waving around my cock, her breasts bouncing rapidly with each move she makes. Searching for some leverage to deepen my thrusts, I grab the back of her neck and let the pad of my thumb wandering along her lower lip. My goddess languidly sucks and nips it before trailing open wet kisses along my palm and on my tattoo.

I close my eyes, trying not to explode now. She asked me about the ink on my wrist last night, but I was not ready to dive in those bittersweet memories then.

One day I'll tell you the whole story my love, I'll tell you about Mikomi, I'm sure you'll understand. You're both strong and beautiful. You both saved my life, you both are my anchors.

Angie's mewls have me back from my thoughts, just to witness her pulling at my arms to sit up on my lap and straddle me. I growl deep in my chest and start eating her breasts and the flesh of her neck. Fuck, this woman is the Kama Sutra by herself. I have such a flame in my chest, she's totally consuming me. Cupping her face, I cover her mouth with mine and kiss her soul, until my lungs burn.

I don't really know how I manage to do that but I sit up to deepen my thrusts, bucking my hips to meet her owns as she pushes herself down on me. My angel looks more than a tigress, her eyes so hungry for me it could be scary. Marvelling at her sweet face as she's about to lose it, I myself feel that fire exploding in my lower belly. I can't help but panting heavily, failing miserably to stay quiet. Angie is not far behind and start to mewl louder and louder at each thrust. I could, I should shush her but the sounds she makes are so sexy and hot I don't want to miss the slightest note.

Our bodies glistening with sweat, my grip on her neck not safe anymore, I slam my hand on her butt, increasing the friction where our waists meet. Far over the edge, Angie screams out in pleasure, her O face finishes to kill me.

I follow within the second, spilling my seed deep inside her, the sound leaving my lungs as strong as my orgasm.

Panting madly, our foreheads touching, we both ride the waves of pleasure that keep shaking our world. Falling back on the mattress, Angie lets out a loud " God, fuck!" which almost shocked me.

It doesn't stay unnoticed by the other inhabitants of the house either, giggles and whispers coming from the other side of the bedroom's wall.

"First thing in the morning: I'm gonna kick out my sister and his silly hubby so we could have this on the regular." Angie states.

I look at her, puzzled and amused.

"Yeah, They totally can settle down in the barn." She laughs.

"Who's that mean person who would trade their family for sex?" I joke.

"Honey, let me tell you something. Last time I used my vagina was to push out two heads large like watermelons. I'm not sorry to finally enjoy a good fuck with you and I'm fed up with holding back my screams. I want to feel free to cry out your name as loud as needed and I expect the same from you. Jessica and Cole would rather become homeless than witness what happens between us."

I chuckle deeply, stroking her cheek. "Who are you? Who's my shy angel gone?" Though I like having my badass wife cursing like a sailor.

"She gave birth, raised two kids and has starved for her husband for about 20 months." She grabs my hand and runs her finger along my ink.

"Who's she?" She whispers, her eyes straight in mines.

"Who?"

"That woman you don't want to talk me about."

Shit. I didn't think this would come up so fast. What can I say? Where should I beginn?

" Cup, whatever happened, I won't mind. I don't want you to keep anything secret from me. I need you back, totally, don't let a piece of your heart behind, talk to me."

She pauses, her sweet gaze wandering from my sealed lips to my wrist.

"The ink was for her?"

" No. It was for you."

And I open my heart to my wife, telling her everything about Mikomi, how she gave me hope and strength, how she saved me, she nursed me, she made me a man again. I told her about her beauty, her grace, her kindness. I told her the fear, the nightmares, the feelings, the kiss.

I stop, waiting to see disappointment or sadness in her eyes. But all I see is pride and love. She's amazing.

"I owe her. I'm glad you had her by your sides."

"Daddy!" A little voice comes from behind me. Belle, my princess, is calling me. Not her ma, me.

I jump into my pants and walk up to their cot. Both of my babies are up on their fatty legs, holding out their chubby arms to me.

"Pick Daddy!" Anna begs me.

Kneeling down to level their tiny faces, I'm hugged and kissed by those little cutie pies, who I hug and kiss back.

"Hello gorgeous ladies. Slept well?" They both nod as I pick them up, each baby finding their places into my arms.

"So tell me, what are we up to? What's the first thing you do in the morning?"

"Cuddle!!!" They scream happily.

"Oh OK! Let's cuddle with your ma." I'm totally spending the rest of my life in bed with my girls.

Turning around, I'm stopped in my tracks by the view. Angie is showering us with that sweet gaze of hers, wearing nothing but the most beautiful smile, her cheeks still red from our early morning sex. I'm hard in my pants in the seconds as my stunning angel slowly wrapped her naked self with the sheets, but it's not the right time, I need my babies to distract me from all the images flashing in my head.

"Who's in for a tickling session?" I grinn at my wife while curling my fingers behind the babies fatty legs. I earn worms wiggles and mice giggles and walk us back to bed.

"A little bird told me your ma really likes this." I tease her, as she nods her head no.

I crawl to Angie, the devilish smirk on my lips ends up in a langourous kiss while my hands are creeping under the sheets, seeking her sensitive sides.

Scratching my 5 hours shadow on the extra soft skin of her jawline and neck, I finally find her most ticklish place, just next her belly button. She immediately burst into laugher, which has our daughters shrieking in delight.

Anna climbs up my back and clings at my neck, her tiny arms barely encircling it. Belle just claps her hands, jumping up and down on the bed. Both begging me either to stop and to go on.

Angie is helplessly fighting my grip, but there's no way I let her go.

I enjoy her offered neck and nip and kiss every piece I can. With all my girls laughing out loud around me, I feel... how could I put a word on it? I've already been sick with love for Angie, is it possible to be sick with happiness?

"Stop it, you know I always win at the games we play..." She smirks, obviously something in mind.

"Ah! Babe you've no idea what I went through to come back to you. Trust me, anything you could say will scare me." She won't win, not this time.

"Really?" She teases me with her eyebrow.

"I'm positive. I'm a tough, unbreakable man. Try anything you want, I'm in."

"Ok, remember you start this." She warns me.

"Go ahead love, I'm waiting." I shrug.

Facing the twins, she sings:

"Girls, who wants Daddy to change their diapers?"

Before I can object anything, my two little bunnies scream in unison.

"Meeeeeeee!"

Shit. I can't go back but how the hell can I manage to clean those tiny kitties with such big hands? Beside I've never done such a thing, I know any shit about babies.

She laughs at my defeated face. " Hey Mister "I'm a fucking good pilot, I can fly a bombardier with my eyes shut", are you scared of changing nappies?"

" Ahmmm, yes, you won. I think I'm going to need some help with that." I admit.

She leans to kiss my lips, then adds.

"Come on girls, let's teach this big guy to be a dad."

I sit up, one baby already hung on my neck and sigh. Let's go, the new life I've been dreaming of is waiting for me.

@captstefanbrandt @every-jai @sajess98 @kenzieam @writingismyhappytime @bookgirlthings @athe-krieger-der-elemente @nickysurfer28 @tigpooh67 @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @pathybo @onceinamillionlifetimes @narfea @desicoulter @cajunpeach @lunaschild2016 @jojuarez26 @jaiboomer11 @cherry-blossom90 @emilybrooksrpworld @herlysmind

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[kravitzkrusher]

"kids are wired to look up to their parents and need them for survival--" whoa whoa whoa slow down there cowboy. i don't know about all that. i think it's a case-by-case situation.

i feel like that's true for some kids, but not others. if your primary caregiver has earned that trust in you to actually CARE and GIVE, then of course a small child would trust them to be a positive force in their life. but if they fumbled the ball millions of times before their kid reaches a formative age, i don't think that attachment is as strong as society may think. kids are socialized to depend on their parents, sure, but biologically wired? i don't think so.

kids are wired to WATCH their parents. to study and to learn and to assess their surroundings. but needing a parent for survival is another beast all together.

i don't remember EVER trusting my parents. that may be rough to hear, but i don't. my dad worked overseas, so around toddler age, i stopped waiting for him to come home and be a daddy. i just played nice when he was around and prepared myself for That Man In My House to leave again. my attachment to him felt non-existent. almost like i knew he could be more active in my life, but that he definitely didn't want to do that. he was more afraid of my mother than anything, so wanting to be with me was irrelevant. he'd rather fear her than protect me. so feeling anything for him was seen as a waste of time in my eyes. all he was gonna do is leave me with the wrong people and sleep soundly after doing it. at the end of the day he could sign a check and pay for 20% of college, so yeah that's about it.

my mom, on the other hand, she was the bag fumbler between the two. homegirl had no idea what she was doing. she put me in harm's way, left me in peril, scared the life out of me for entertainment, nearly killed me by accident several times before i was 3. when i was crying, all i got was "shut the fuck up". when i needed my blankie, all i got was "we should throw that ratty thing out". when i needed clear instructions and a guiding hand in life, all i got was "you should know this by now why are you so stupid". what about that kind of behavior makes a child feel like they are in good hands?? oh yeah this person will help me with everything in life even though they can't help me with my math homework, let me just depend on them right now. the fuck?? no. not every child falls for that.

i saw through everything. i saw the weakness, the incapability, the exhaustion, the financial ruin, the anger, the regret, the pain, the confusion. they didn't want to be parents. they didn't want any of us. they needed to be relieved of this burden NOW. IMMEDIATELY. AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.

i lost complete faith in their ability to do anything for me other than traumatize me with their incompetence. they can't teach a child how to read if they don't have the patience to do it without making fun of them. they can't teach a child how to clean if they can't stand the house looking like it was cleaned by a child and not a professionally paid housekeeper.

if they can't teach me how to be a child, how the hell are they gonna teach me to grow up??!

i had to teach myself AND MY LITTLE SIBLINGS about life. i, a child, had to teach them about heartbreak, and softness, and kindness, and patience, and compassion, and boundless unmoving love. i had to be mama and papa to THEIR KIDS. because actual mama and papa refused to do their jobs correctly. the only reason my baby brother wasn't in the hospital as often as me was because my mom watched me bleed out and bruise and scream for help and she learned what Not To Do. if you got all your mistakes out with one child and then forced them to learn from those mistakes in a matter of Moments so that they can parent your other children better than you, what makes you think that hasn't made you look like shit? i watched every blunder, i counted every fuck up. my only job was to learn from them. not to attach. to learn.

how does a child get wired to think their parents mean well when they are consistently shown they don't? how does a child get wired to depend on someone who would just as easily laugh about violently killing them as quickly they would laugh at a Spongebob cartoon? how does a child get wired to depend on someone who no longer wants to be their parent? how does a child see crazy and not want to be safe and alone and protected forever?

i think it's safe to say i never attached. as soon as my mom started taking me out shopping, i started to wander off. two/three years old i would follow other people's mothers in grocery stores because it felt safer. almost like i knew from an early age that a random woman on the street would be more loving, more caring, more understanding, and more capable of doing her job. the only reason i stopped doing it was because i was socialized out of it. apparently it's rude to expect a stranger to adopt you.

i was never wired to depend on her.

i was never wired to depend on him.

i was socialized into thinking i was stuck with what i have, but never did i sit down, shut up, and deal with it.

every second i was screaming to get out.

pleading with god to please get me away from them please please just let me have control of my own life i don't belong here with these people please let me out!

the only reason i looked up to them was because they were physical taller than me. i never felt like i needed them in my life forever. i never felt like i would die without them. the thought of leaving came freely and comfortably.

the only person i really looked up to was my future self, the woman i would one day become. one day i would be the woman a child would feel safe enough to follow around in a grocery store. and that thought, that hope, that dream for my future, whoever i will become... that's who i was wired to love my whole life. me. just older.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Im playing my online farming game and I hear "come on guys. Let's go. Time to quit playing around. Mom has people waiting -- like the whole world for our results"

Well it's been 7 hours since the last update and about 6 since they got that larger batch going

Chasity: the UV is doing better than i expected, I'm pleasantly surprised but it's also worse than i thought.

So she explains to me that it is easy to kill but it develops very quickly as it ages but its not harder to kill. Like a fine wine it goes down quick.

Chasity: mom you play too Much. So as it ages it does become slower to kill but it's not easier nor harder just longer.

Me: that's weird

Chasity: yep. We had several different people test it. And the results were all the same But it was milliseconds however we are spraying directly onto a a Petri dish, an antiseptic/antiviral/antibacterial that is prescription for lab use only and so in real life out in the air we don't know the actual results as far as in time - at this time. But we are only 12 hours into the testing phase -- first we had to confiscate the correct virus -- which we did about midnight last night but we didn't really want to test it unless there was an interest and to prove the "PRESIDENT" wrong is an interest. At least for us here in this lab. Because we Are scientist and not idiots. And so to find out how about air we have to spray it into a confined room we have here in the lab and it will show how fast it dies airborne or if it remains air borne past the allowable spray. So like is it just sprayed then falls like the one mom had created (on "accident" through George Bush) so its not airborne or does it remain air borne like the COVID and COVID-19. which once again if you have COVID-19 you cannot get COVID, I've tested it here in this lab they do not interact -- mom what do you call it? A one way window?

Me: yeah because i tried to explain the one way pathway but George Bush didn't understand... He doesn't understand that blood flows one direction through the body from left to right he just thinks the blood goes back and forth in the same blood tube. Like a two way street and so he argued with me and so i explained it as a one way and two way window and he was all "the only one getting arrested here is you. I've proved I'm not smart enough to do all this! Twice!! Just to you!" And he leaned over the table And whispered "And all my life to the secret service" he makes it fun to screw him over to make the perfect virus to kill aliens. To get them off our planet. But to keep humans safe!! And so yes one way mirror.

Chasity: oh that is too funny. That is all i wanted to hear you say, that hes dumb. Your memory is perfect!

Me: so how is the humidity going?

Chasity: sucks fast growing and not easy to kill. But! It does die in about 5 whole seconds and not milliseconds like the UV

Me: so people should feel safe to hang their clothes on the line?

Chasity: oh yeah! Exactly! But they should know the virus can spread in the sun and the UV aka sun won't kill them but it should be safe if it's not like apartment living and its in a private location. It would be better watched to dry in the sun with a fan on an extension cord in a barricaded outdoor place and if you hear someone cough while your clothes are outside you should spray Lysol for at least 2 seconds immediately directly onto the clothes. At least that's what I would do, stay outside with them listening for a cough or discreet spray from a hoodlum or terrorist which is the same now a days. While reading a book and catching some rays myself with sunscreen and sunglasses of course -- in the privacy of my own yard which is allowed even in Spain.

Wendy: so what is the safety? I'll answer that myself. Very very bad. The one mom had was very digital and not many were getting sick from just the Corona. This one however is very bad in just the way it makes any one everywhere very sick and the rate it multiplies. Mom waited too long to close the labs but she stopped one that was 10 times worse and presumed to kill within hours if not just a few days. Like 3 or 4 immediate death. This one now isn't designed to kill, its like mom's. But this one she stopped on Tuesday was like COVID But for every one. It was true Hell. Luckily JuJu pissed her off and she ordered it closed. Otherwise my dad would be dead and probably millions if not billions. They had the orders up,boxed and ready to ship, they just wanted to test on a human first -- my dad.

Long story short. JuJu was the test dummy..

Wendy: yeah! And he died in 4 short hours! My dad wouldn't even had time to get home and would died in his car on the road and it would looked like a generic car accident! So yeah fuck JuJu. I'll kick his ass.

Me: sounds like you did

Wendy: no that was you! Once you posted he committed suicide he knew it was a cover up Because you were just going to have him murdered so he just drank it on his own. That's what i saw.

Me: he hates women so much he committed suicide so that i couldn't have the honor of killing him. Well he only proved women are always right which has Always been my fight with him. Well we won in the end! Hoorah!

Wendy: like 17 people committed suicide that night!

Chasity: Mostly by poisons. They didn't wanna go to jail And wanted control over their own death.

Me: over all death. That's why we always tried to stop them but that was dam sneaky on JuJu

Chasity: he said it was an antidote mom so we didn't know what to do

Me: don't listen to the lab people. I said there is no cure.

Chasity: but for the Corona because we knew there was a new variant for the President of the United State's request because he's mad he is going to die of COVID. I told y'all we needed a human!

Me: well just kill any thing the Corona Variant 2 is mild

Chasity: just a wet cough. But dad got it worse than you so we we're kinda scared.

Me: well i got it at Allsups and I'm nearly over it. As long as i take cough medicine. And fever. Its less than the modern day cold and flu. Corona is literally a joy to have over regular sinus infections and bronchitis. Shit i been sick from that crap they've let loose on their labs. For months sick. This is a wonder virus. So nice to have compared to 2013 and 2014. There was no emergency anything but the cold medicine aisle was wiped out all kinds. People were sick and dying! This? I'm all sleep for awhile, cough take medicine and that's it.

Chasity: yeah well dad had it really bad i thought he was going to die

Me: but he was working out exercise and working and

Chasity: doing cardio and all. See dad? You should stay with mom. She would take care of you. Stay in bed and have chicken soup, a few push ups and repetitive weights and back to bed. You don't have to reply but I hope you're listening.

Brian: shit she takes care of me like I'm a beast! Don't touch me! Breathe over there! We will lay back to back so you know I'm here but no breathy stuff. You want sex? Die first So i don't catch what you got then come back to life after. She is funny tho. I don't mind her so much. That last time i was sick and she was with me i was all "i feel great let me go running!" Then i went back and begged her to never let me do that again!

Chasity: you wanted to die huh?

Brian: she put me in a cool bath and I fell asleep. And I woke up and she was adding hot water. Which made me sleep more. But she left me in there alone while I was asleep! She said I was too tall to drown unless she tried to kill me so she just stopped any one but the little girls from going in. But she covered me with a towel so they couldn't see my junk in the front. And i thought it was a blanket and I was all "oh she's so sweet to bring me a blankie. What the fuck! It's wet who did this to me?! Oh that water is hot. Ouch. Good thing I'm asleep that ain't me. I always turn my own water on. No girl would bathe me. Just ask JuJu Bee. Im too ugly but then again she tells,him she calls him that because bees only sting once and Then they die and she's been stung and she's just waiting for him to die and JuJu because there's no Jesus for what he's done and over all jujuBe candy is good for nothing with no nutrient value and he should shut his face or she's gonna kick it in. What a chick. Hand me that wet towel back I'm getting cold" and you know she told me "it's hot you can't tell the difference of the temperature and the towel is in your lap you never handed it out. But some things you see in your dreams are real. Your body just doesn't know it." And I seriously woke up and I shrieked "are you trying to burn me like in that book with the grandma? You're trying to burn my balls off?!?" And I heard all this laughter but I saw her face looking directly at me not at all amused but slightly sad and I got really scared "why are you such a nightmare?!?!" I seriously shrieked and i thought she would cry but she started to laugh and she got up from the edge of the tub and suddenly a rubber ducky started to float in the tub and I grabbed her arm and said "no babe look!! Did you turn into a duck?!?! No I'm grabbing your arm what am I thinking?!" And she looked down into my eyes real deep like she does and she says "you're real beautiful don't you know?" And i let go of her arm "go on go pee. But what is that laughing you have a tape recorder or something?" She said she wished because it wasn't funny then but she knew she would laugh later. Finally she told on them two, Annabelle and Declan because she adjusted the towel and I was getting ready to throw it out but she shrieked then "no!! You need it to cover up for the kids!" And I said "well where are they?" And she moved her head slightly to the left and motioned me to shh. So i pretended to be a sea monster with a pink towel over my waist and scared the dickens out of them both. Declan looked at me in horror and said I was no fun! Me! Me! Of all people. After i was nearly pissing in my tub talking in my sleep. Shit. I knew i said some bad stuff but all i could think was that it was about sex and murder. Luckily the words that came out were sober compared to what was in my head which was drunk with power.

Chasity: so you're seriously thinking it won't be so bad then? To live with mom then with me?

Brian: I mean well..yeah now JuJu is dead and so is a lot of other people it might be a possibility.

Chasity: because dad this is really important to me So don't mislead me.

Brian: well she's not So bad... She's just a lot of work!

Me: you are a lot of work. You want to treat me like a baby and do everything

Brian: No like you're a doll! But you talk back! Sheesh! A lot too I might add! That makes the work double because then i got to think!

Me: well you don't seem to listen too badly.

Brian: Oh wow! What a compliment! That is a compliment isn't it?!

Me: yeah

Wendy: im Peter Pan's wife do you remember me? Dad you need to grow up and get a wife. Quit being a bachelor. The look isn't good on you. Or on mom. Do you hear?

Brian: yeah i hear. I am listening.

Wendy: okay good. In conclusion of the virus growth we will get back to you tomorrow, general public. And dad we hope you grow over night just as Much. Mom's been typing just over an hour and no major changes to report but now we need to get the room ready and we will have that report tomorrow. Dad thanks for the talk. We always enjoy the Tales of the Man Dressed in a Pink Towel in the Bathtub.

[little-owly]

oh gosh but like can you imagine what would happen if ja//ck loaded up on coffee before falling into littlespace?? He wouldn't be able to sit still at all and he would practically be vibrating with energy, running around the house at top speed and nearly killing himself in the process by tripping over things or falling down the stairs. He's just so energetic that dada eth//an and daddy ma//rk have to either put him down for a nap or bring him to the park so he can run himself out!! -🍂

HYPER BABY BOY AAAAA

jack fueling up with coffee, hoping to cram and get some work done before a convention. not counting on pouting and setting himself into headspace, becoming distracted as he tries to set up for recording a vr game, playing with the little toys and figures in his office. giggling away, forgetting all about the games he was planning to record. the coffee slowly, but surely, kicking in.

ethan and mark goofing around in the living room. already done planning and editing their videos. they sit cuddling on the couch before they hear it. the loud laughs and a heavy thud. 

ethan looks at mark quizzically, both waiting to hear a curse. only hearing more laughing and someone getting up.

and cue jack rushing into the room with a blankie tied around his neck, “wooosh!! imma hero!! i got my blankie and we gon’ save the world!!” he jumps into the air. just barely missing the pair and landing on the seat next to them.

“jack--!”

he ignores mark’s plea and jumps off the couch, running towards the kitchen, arms splayed.

“is he little--” ethan tries to ask, interrupted by the crashing of chairs.

“jack!!” mark yells, worried he hurt himself as ethan gets up, chasing after him alongside mark.

jack’s on top of the chairs, laughing away as he makes sound effects, “woosh!! wooooosh!! i can fly!!”

“jack, stop!!” ethan yells, jack looking down at ethan from his spot. giggling and jumping, “catch dada!! catch!!”

ethan groans as he hurriedly catches jack. nearly falling, the wind being knocked out of him. jack clapping, “again! again! daddy catch me this time--”

“jack! you know better than to run and climb furniture in the house!” mark raises his voice, taking jack from ethan as the smaller male catches his breath, “what if you got hurt?! what if you hurt dada?! what you did was incredibly dangerous, now calm down!”

jack’s bottom lip quivers, on the verge of tears. mark sighing as he hugs him, “we have rules for a reason, jackie. we don’t want you to get hurt and we dont want to get hurt. you need to understand that, okay?”

he sniffles and nods, “i...i...otay, daddy...”

“now what’s got you so hyper? more than usual at least.”

“mark,” ethan coughs, pointing to the coffee pot, still a bit left over, “i think thats it,” he walks over to the green hair male, “poor boy’s just hyper with coffee, arent you?”

jack nods, “i sowwy i hurted you, dada...”

ethan smiles softly, “dont worry about it bud. i think i know a way to help you get all that energy outta ya and keep us from getting hurt.”

mark raises an eyebrow, ethan leaning over and whispering into his ear. mark smiles and nodding, “lets get you in the car, jackie. we’re gonna take a little trip.”

--

jack grows restless in the back seat, tapping on the window, kicking his feet, humming little songs to himself. wanting nothing more than to get to wherever dada and daddy promised to take him to.

he doesnt notice when they stop the car. ethan helping him get out as he and mark hold his hand, walking out to the empty park. the playground a bright blue and white. the red swings swaying in the wind. not a soul in sight but them.

“told you nobody comes here.” ethan tells mark, nudging jack, “go ahead and play, green bean. daddy and dada will be sitting down nearby,” he smiles.

jack barely being able to contain his excitement as he rushes towards the playground. climbing up the monkey bars, wasting no time in playing. swinging from one bar to the next, laughing.

“how’d you know about this park?” mark asks, sitting in next to ethan on the blue bench

“use to come here to think and all that stuff.”

“ah,” mark sighs, “so nobody ever comes here?”

“nope. i’ve known this place for nearly a year and half and have never seen anyone here when im here.” he pulls out his phone, “i give him a good 35 minutes before he crashes the fuck out.”

“i say 20 minutes.” mark laughs, leaning over to kiss ethan’s cheek, “thanks for  helping us find a place for him to play. look at how excited he is!”

“aw, stop it, ya big goof.”

--

jack sleepily walked over to the two after 45 minutes. yawning and plopping down into mark and ethan’s lap.

“wan’ go hooooome,” he whined, “tooooo tiwed ro pwaaaaaay.”

mark picks up jack as ethan starts up the car. their cute little baby boy nodding off the sleep only after 5 minutes of driving. sucking his thumb quietly, all tuckered out, but in a fun way -- thanks to his dada and daddy