#it is So good probably the best story ive ever come up with for a self ship.

[reidsmanuscript]

Seven Seconds

Summary: when Katie Jacob's gets abducted in a Mall, setting the clock for the BAU, who needs a legal favor, and it's been a year since the A.D.A. has know anything about Spencer Reid. Pairing: Spencer Reid x lawyer!reader Genre: pinning, SLOW BURN, maybe right moment?, angst bc i love angst wc: 4.6k! (i know so small comparing to part 1 bear with me) TW: cm canon typical violence, set in 05x3 "Seven seconds" (obviously lol), sexual violence, implied reader's dark past, glimpses of female rage. A/N: my idea for the serie is be taylor jenkins reid and have you question if lawyer reader exists or not (delusional bitch), english is not my first language and let's pretend it's proofread part I - part II - part III - part IV - masterlist

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Spencer sat on the park bench reading a book while playing chess with Ethan, brilliant kid for his age and good opponent, not good enough though because when he cheered “I see checkmate in 5, What do you see?” It took Spencer one glance to calculate all the movements necessary.

“I see it in 3” he answered looking at his book again, the kid turned around the board and moved the pieces

“We've missed you out here” he said, staring at the board amazed.

“Thanks. I, uh, I had to take a little break”

“How come?” His hands froze on the book for a second before closing it.

Spencer had been clean for over a year now, it was 14 months and 2 weeks ago that he had freaked out after noticing his stash of Dialud was gone along with his needle. Where could he find more? Who knew about his addiction? Where was his stash? Who the fuck is Dr. Fitzgerald? Did you report him?

His first instinct was confronting you, given that you were the only person who found out his drugs that he knew, the first days he was a complete paranoid, he jumped every time Hotch called his name, or that Gideon looked at him a little too long.

At the end of the week he was thinking where he could find more, and when that thought scared him, he called the number of the card you had left in the same pocket his drugs used to be.

“Hello this is Dr. Fitzgerald” said a calm voice, it was 10 p.m. so there was a higher chance of going to voicemail, but he got an answer and the tremor of his hands got a little worse. Was it the anxiety or the withdrawal?

“Umm hello.. this is.. Dr.. this is Spencer Reid and someon-""I've been waiting for your call Dr Reid” the other line interrupted, he froze for a second.

“I used to play with a co-worker friend of mine. He's probably the best mind I ever went up against. One day, he just decided that he didn't want to play anymore.”

Fast forward, she helped him get clean and stay clean after Gideon left, getting tested regularly, and gave him the contact of the help group of FBI addicts. He was better, he was alive.

“So you gave up, too?”

“Just the opposite. I attempted to play Through every permutation of moves on a chessboard.”

“That's an infinite number of games.”

“It's not infinite. It's just- it's exponentially large.”

“You couldn't have played through them all.”

“There's an average of 40 moves per chess game, And I'll tell you something– the more I played, The more I realized that every single match every single chess game, Is really just a simple variation on the exact same theme. You know? It's aggressive opening, Patient mid-game, inevitable checkmate, And I realized why my friend quit. He was tired of repeating the same patterns And expecting a different outcome.”

“That's because you haven't come up on Fridays or Mondays in a while” the way his eyebrows went up along his voice tone made him feel like he knew something that he didn't.

His eyebrows furrowed “What do you mean?”

“There's this great player who comes around those days, she even brings the best pastries, and her games is similar to yours, always two or three moves ahead, she always beats everyone here… i think her boyfriend called her Buzz or something like that, like the Toy Story character”

“Buzz?… i don't really remember anyone with that nickname”

“It’s probably not that one but you don't know her because she started coming like 8 months ago.. I'm sure you have a lifetime of chess strategy in your head that you're just sitting on, but when you meet her?” He made a dramatic pause “You'll have to play it.”

He glances at his watch to realize his 15 minute break is coming to an end. “I still use it. I just, uh... I apply it differently. I have to go. It's good seeing you.”

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That evening, the BAU was called in for a local case—a little girl, Katie, had been kidnapped from a busy mall. A week earlier, another girl had been taken from the same location and found dead hours later. Now, they were all racing against the clock.

Katie’s parents were desperate. As any parents would be in this situation, right? But when Hotch asked the father if either of them was having an affair—a routine question in abductions—the man took offense. Deep offense. So much so that he refused to let the FBI search their house.

Now, what kind of parent refuses to help the police find their missing child?

In a small surveillance room, Morgan and Reid sat with Garcia, who was visibly frustrated by the mall’s ancient security system. They were surrounded by screens displaying grainy footage from different angles—well, almost every angle. They had a single glimpse of Katie in one video, and then, seven seconds later, she was gone.

JJ and Prentiss were with the mother, aunt, and uncle, trying to get a read on the family dynamic. Meanwhile, Morgan and Reid had conducted a cognitive interview with Katie’s cousin. It had led nowhere.

“The family has refused permission to search the house,” Hotch announced as he stepped into the room.

“What do you mean they denied?” Morgan’s frustration was evident. “Your only child goes missing, and you refuse to collaborate?”

No one disagreed. They were all thinking the same thing.

“The cousin didn’t say much,” Reid added. “He was too distracted in the game room to notice anything.”

Hotch exhaled sharply. “I’ll speak to the detectives, see if we can get a warrant.” His tone was firm, but they all knew time wasn’t on their side.

Garcia adjusted her glasses. “Sir, I mean this in the best way possible, but it’s almost 8 p.m. I don’t think-”

“I’ll handle it,” Morgan interrupted.

All Reid and Garcia turned to him with identical looks. What do you mean you will handle it?

Hotch’s eyebrows furrowed, but after a moment, he gave a small nod and walked away. Morgan was already pulling out his phone.

“I have a contact,” he explained, dialing.

He put the phone on speaker. It rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a voice answered—sharp, direct, and all business.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

Reid went rigid.

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It was late in the office; most people had already gone home, including your assistant Molly. All but Austin, who was still there because he had a lead on one of your cases. You knew he was still hanging around because, over a year ago, when someone had snuck into your office to harm you, you’d become a little paranoid. You’d gotten better, but Austin insisted on keeping you company, especially since your car was in the mechanic’s.

You were reviewing a legal brief, pen in hand, skimming the margins to jot down notes when the desk phone rang. Without looking up, you hit the speaker button with the tip of the pen.

“A.D.A. Woodvale.”

There was a beat of silence before a familiar voice cut in—smooth, direct, urgent.

Morgan called your name “Hey. We need a warrant. Fast.” You blinked, setting the pen down.

Reid and Garcia exchanged glances as Morgan jumped in without hesitation.

“Katie Jacobs. Eight years old. Abducted from a mall earlier tonight,” Morgan started, all business. “Another girl was taken from the same place a week ago—she was found dead hours later. We’re working against the clock.”

You frowned, swirling the pen, going through the multiple scenarios. You had heard about last week’s case, and how slow the police had moved back then.

“We’ve got mall surveillance footage,” Morgan pressed. “At first, we thought she just vanished, but Garcia finally pulled something from one of the side corridors. Katie wasn’t taken by force—she was walking calmly with someone.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around her pen. “Someone she knows.”

“Exactly,” Morgan confirmed. “That narrows it down to family or close acquaintances.” They all shared a silent thought. Family.

We know they’re hiding something,” Morgan corrected. “We just don’t have the probable cause to kick the door down.”

Garcia watched as Morgan paced slightly, his tone firm but urgent.

“That’s thin, Morgan,” Your voice came through the speaker, steady and unyielding.

“We don’t have time for airtight,” Morgan countered.

Your jaw tightened. “You don’t have time for me to get laughed out of a judge’s office, either. Refusing a search isn’t a crime, and suspicion alone doesn’t cut it. I need more.” You understood where the suspicious came from, how are you supposed to help them if they had nothing?

There was a pause. A beat of silence. Then, another voice—one you hadn’t heard in over a year.

“99% of abducted children who are killed due within the first 24 hours” He cleared his throat, willing his voice to stay even. Spencer Reid. “75% within the first 3 hours, and what only law enforcement knows is Jessica Davis joined the 44% of children who are abducted and killed within the first hour. We’re already past the three-hour mark. If we don’t act now, statistically speaking—”

“The likelihood of recovery drops exponentially,” You sighed, already standing up, ignoring how his voice sounded. So different. So… clean.

Your gaze flicked to the clock. 8:06 p.m. Damn it.

You grabbed a blank warrant form from her drawer and reached for a pen. “Send me the address and everything else you have. Give me 20 minutes.”

Click. You didn’t have time for goodbyes.

Austin raised an eyebrow from his seat. “Guess you’re not going home anytime soon.”

You didn’t look up as you started writing. “I never was.”

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The courthouse was mostly deserted at this hour. The fluorescent lights hummed quietly, and the stillness of the evening was only interrupted by the sharp click of your heels on the polished floors followed by Austin’s boots toward the judge’s chambers.

“You sure you don’t want me to take this one? Sweet-talk her maybe?” he teased.

You shot him a look. “You think Judge Holloway is the type to be charmed? Plus, you’re a private investigator, not a lawyer.”  

“She’s not gonna like you showing up this late.”  

You didn’t miss a beat. “If she’s still up, she’ll make time for this.”  

Taking a steadying breath as you stopped in front of the door, you quickly ran through your notes, making sure you had every detail in order. Then, without hesitation, you pushed through the heavy wooden doors of Judge Evelyn Holloway’s chambers.  

Inside, the judge barely glanced up from her paperwork. “You have two minutes, Woodvale.”

Stepping forward, you set the warrant request on the desk. “Your Honor, I apologize for the late hour, but we have a child abduction case we’re working against the clock. A young girl, Katie Jacobs, was taken from a mall over three hours ago. We’ve obtained surveillance footage showing her walking with an individual—someone she likely knows. We believe the family is withholding information, and they’ve refused to allow us to search the residence.”

The judge narrowed his eyes, folding her hands on the desk. “And what do you propose I do about it? What evidence do you have to warrant a search?”

You kept your voice steady. “We have footage of the girl with someone who wasn’t a stranger, Your Honor. The parents are refusing cooperation, and the father was evasive when asked about possible affairs, which raises red flags about his involvement.”

Holloway sighed, leaning back in her chair. “That’s thin.” You were ready for that.

“I have the full footage from the mall security, including a timestamp showing the precise time the girl went missing. She is last seen walking calmly with someone she knows, most likely family.”

There was a brief pause, and for a second, you thought you were about to lose her. So you pulled Reid’s words from memory, adjusting them just enough to make them your own.

“Time is working against us. Statistics show that 99% of abducted children who are murdered lose their lives within the first 24 hours 75% within just the first three. And only law enforcement-”

She cut you off with a raised hand, signaling you to stop.

The judge exhaled through her nose, it was late and you were rambling about statistics and you knew she wanted you out as soon as possible when you started citing numbers. So pushing himself out of her chair with a slight groan. “Fine. Get me the paperwork. I’ll sign it—but you better have your ducks in a row.”

You nodded, her demeanor unflinching. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

As you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of the hours ahead of you. But you were used to this—fighting against the clock.

“Let’s move,” motioning to Austin. He gave you a small nod. “You got it.”

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Exactly 15 minutes after the call, 5 minutes earlier than promised, Morgan’s phone rang. He answered it without even looking. 

"You got your warrant. I'll meet you there," Alex’s voice came through, crisp and businesslike, just as expected.

Morgan exhaled, his relief barely hidden. "Thank you, Woody."

He paused for a moment before adding, "I owe you one," then hung up, turning to Reid.

“Tell Hotch we’re heading to the Jacobs’ house,” he instructed, already moving toward the door.

Spencer had been timing her. It wasn’t the first time he'd gotten caught up in the tense waiting game of law and order, but the pressure of it had a different weight today. The memory of your voice, clear and resolute, echoed in his mind, sharper than before.

For Reid, part of getting clean wasn't just the physical withdrawal—it was the emotional weight of confronting his mistakes. The memory of how he'd lashed out at you a year ago still haunted him. How could he have been so cruel? The hurt in your eyes, the way he dismissed you, the way it all spiraled… it wasn’t just the drugs that had made him say those things. And the fury he saw when you looked at him, Dialuid in hand, how you looked like a timing bomb when he was trying to see if he could talk to you, the tension in your shoulders, the lock in your jaw, the grip on the file. He’d been battling so much more since then, in his mind, you saved his life by doing what he couldn't do.

He’d rather die than relive that moment again, than say those things. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of another chaotic case, still carrying that guilt with him. He stayed behind Morgan for just a beat before pushing down his feelings and moving quickly. 

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The engine of Austin's bike rumbled to a stop as they pulled up in front of the house, where Morgan and Reid were standing in front of the black SUV. You slid off the back with practiced ease, taking off the helmet and letting your hair fall loose.

Austin followed your lead, taking his helmet off with a groan. “So, what exactly are we looking for?”

You shot him a quick, sidelong glance, handing him the helmet, keeping your expression flat knowing he’s about to be a drama queen. “You’re not coming inside. The warrant’s for FBI and police only. Not P.I.s included”

Austin paused, a mock pout crossing his face. “Excuse me? I just got you here, through all that traffic, risking myself to get a speeding ticket and now I don’t get to search? This is the second time in the night that you P.I. shaming me. Do you hate me?”

“If I hated you I wouldn’t have bailed your ass out of jail… twice” you remark the last part. He had a talent for sticking his foot where he shouldn’t be, maybe that’s what makes him good at his job.

“You act like you wouldn’t do it a third time” he was mocking, but he was right, something you would never admit to him. 

You start walking to the house “Mhm.” you hum rolling your eyes, heading towards where Morgan and Reid were. 

You didn't expect him to be there, or maybe you did, maybe you wanted to see him and know what had happened to him since the last time you saw him. They were looking at you, Morgan with a curious already-profiling-you stare, while Reid expression was more… cautious. He looked so different, his cheekbones were prominent in an attractive way and not sickly, he had put on some healthy weight and was not fidgety. You were not mad anymore, because of course at the moment the hurt had turned into rage like it always does for you, but it was more because of phantoms than anything else. 

“Got your golden ticket” you said, avoiding Reid’s gaze as you pulled the warrant from the inner pocket of your gray coat and swung it toward them.

Morgan nodded “You staying?” He gestured with his head to Austin who was leaving.

“I have to make sure you find something, otherwise the judge will have my head for this,” you said dryly, shrugging as though the threat didn’t bother you, but there was a flicker of seriousness behind your words. You were only talking to him, which felt rude because Reid’s stare was locked in your profile. 

Reid was thinking how pretty you looked, how the black vest suited you, and he couldn’t ignore the fact you had changed your brown bag to a black one that looked nothing like his. Your white shirt and gray coat gave you an older, wiser look, but as Reid analyzed your features, he realized he didn’t even know how old you were. You couldn’t be older than him. Serious, sharp, and young... How was it possible for someone that young to be the A.D.A.?

Reid’s mind couldn’t let go of the numbers. The average age of an Assistant District Attorney in the U.S. is 36. You couldn’t be older than 25, and yet you were already in that position.

You glanced at him for a moment before stepping inside the house, feeling the weight of his stare. The look made him snap out of his trance-like state, and of course, his eidetic memory hated him, because for that brief second, he remembered how you had looked at him a year ago.

Morgan nodded and thanked you again before he and Reid walked into the house. You left the warrant on the hall table with a deliberate touch, your fingers lingering for just a moment—as if to remind yourself that you weren’t entirely done with this.

“Somebody lit a fire last night,” you heard Reid say.

“Well, there are dirty dishes for three in the kitchen, so they eat together as a family.” Morgan’s voice carried from the other room as they moved through the house, taking in the details.

If Katie was in danger, the signs wouldn’t be in plain sight. You had to look where they hid—where children kept their secrets. Their bedrooms.

“Hey, my favorite movie from when I was a kid.” Reid held up a DVD, turning it in his hands before pulling it from the player just as you passed by him, tugging on latex gloves before heading upstairs, you did feel a little guilty for not even looking or talking to him, but it was something you did unconsciously. 

“So they watch movies together, too,” Morgan mused. They were starting to build a picture of the family’s dynamic.

“By a fireplace in a house that’s straight out of a catalog,” Reid added. “Norman Rockwell couldn’t have painted this any cozier.”

“That’s what worries me.” There was weight in Morgan’s voice. A tension that sat between them.

Upstairs, you searched through the rooms with careful precision.

When you first became a lawyer, you made a promise—never ignore a sign. Since then, you have gone further. You didn’t just refuse to ignore them; you searched for them. Hollow eyes. Unexplained bruises. Small bloodstains. You looked for them in teenagers, in young adults, in the elderly. But nothing—nothing—was more painful than a child who couldn’t speak up.

Because they were small. Because someone older, someone stronger, was hurting them. There's nothing more hurtful than not being able to speak out, to say something and stand up for yourself. Except when someone did—someone saw the bruises, the fear, the signs—and they looked away deliberately. Because a child’s pain was inconvenient. Because it came with a mountain of paperwork no one wanted to touch.

You had spent your whole life making sure you never looked away.

That’s why you were hunched over the small desk in Katie’s bedroom, flipping through her drawings when Morgan and Reid entered the room. They started searching, their movements efficient and methodical.

“Katie’s been wetting her bed,” Reid said as he lifted the duvet, inspecting the mattress beneath it.

“A lot of six-year-olds do. Could be bad dreams,” Morgan replied, crouching beside you as he sifted through a pile of toys.

You considered that possibility—it was perfectly logical. In a perfect world.

“Some kids won’t get up at night because they’re afraid of the dark,” Reid added, his tone careful. Almost knowing.

“Or it could be a lot more complex than that.”

Morgan had found a doll. Not a Barbie missing a shoe or one that had simply been played with too much. No—this doll was different.

Its hair had been hacked off, jagged strands sticking out unevenly. Red marker smeared across its face like smeared blood. Its clothes were yanked askew, twisted, and wrong.

“Most girls covet their dolls like an extension of themselves.” He took the doll in his hands like it was made of fine glass. 

“Reid, I know these signs-— acting out on her toys, wetting the bed. She's obviously covering up something about that necklace.”

“And her cousin might be holding something back.”

“Well, this looks more like a man than a boy to me,” you said, holding up a drawing of a tall, shadowy figure towering over a small, crying child.

Morgan took it from your hands, his expression hardening as he analyzed the image.

“Psychology says drawing is a child’s way of channeling their inner world. Look at the strokes—how harsh they are,” you pointed to the dark, jagged lines forming the tall figure, then traced your finger over the smaller one. “And this looks like Katie to me. She forgot to draw the hands, which means she feels powerless… helpless.” 

Morgan took his phone out, dialing up “Hotch, we think Katie’s being molested,” Morgan said, his voice clipped. “And we both know the odds.”

A brief silence. Then Hotch’s response, firm and certain. “Most likely by someone under the same roof.”

He hung up, and both men started toward the door, their movements brisk with purpose. But you stayed behind for a moment, rooted in place, taking in the scene. Trying to quiet the distant sirens that echoed in your mind, the same ones always shouting when you were face to face with these situations. A loud pause—maybe out of respect for Katie and her pain, for everything she had been forced to endure.

From the doorway, Spencer glanced back. The dim light from the hallway cast your figure in stark contrast, outlining you in shadow—your form dark against the soft glow of the room. He couldn’t see your expression, couldn’t read your face. He focused on the way your hands curled into fists at your sides, the tight set of your shoulders.

And he wished—just for a second—that he could see more.

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You stood outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over your chest. By your side were Morgan, Jeremy, Katie’s cousin, and Reid.

Turns out, Katie’s uncle, Richard, was her abuser. A disgusting son of a bitch who deserved to rot in hell. And you were going to make sure he did. He had destroyed Katie’s childhood, probably more than just hers, shattering an entire family in the process. His own son, standing right next to you, was collateral damage he clearly hadn’t spared a thought for. And then there was his wife. The woman who had chosen to look away. Who had taken Katie and nearly gotten her killed, all for the pathetic, desperate hope that it would somehow stop her husband from creeping into little bedrooms at night. She deserved the same hell he did.

A stretcher rolled past, Katie’s small frame barely visible beneath the blankets as the paramedics guided her into the ambulance. Her mother clutched her tiny hand, whispering something—words meant to soothe, to promise safety.

A young voice cut through the air. “I heard her call my mom’s name. That’s what I remembered before.”

You closed your eyes, your mind already racing ahead. Your attorney brain was piecing it together, sketching out the battle that was coming. If the kid had heard it, that made him a witness to the abduction. His own mother had committed the crime against her niece. And God only knew what else he had seen—what else had been happening in that house—without fully understanding it.

“We get it, kid. That’s your mom,” Morgan said, his voice steady. But you knew the truth: if Jeremy could barely say those words to them, getting him to the stand in front of a jury would be another fight entirely.

The boy shifted on his feet, staring at the ambulance. “What’s gonna happen to me now?”

If God existed, He had already been too cruel. He had let all of this happen. And you knew how these things worked—knew there was a very real chance that Katie’s parents, burdened with their own grief, would resent Jeremy by association. That they wouldn’t take him in. That he would be swallowed by the foster system.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

The sirens blared outside the mall, cutting through the air with urgency, but it was the ones inside your mind that were louder—screaming in the same rhythm, as if they were one and the same. Distant and deafening, they filled every corner of your head, drowning out everything but the grim reality unfolding before you.

“I don’t know, Jeremy,” Reid answered, his voice gentle. “But we’re gonna make sure you’re alright, okay?”

Jeremy didn’t look at him. His eyes stayed fixed on the ambulance. “Is Katie gonna be all right?”

You wished—desperately, violently—that you could tell him yes. That you could say it with certainty and make it true. But how could you give him something you didn’t have?

“She will, eventually,” Morgan said, his voice firm.

You exhaled sharply. The words made your skin crawl.

“Is she?” The question slipped from your lips before you could stop it—low, bitter, nearly spat out under your breath. Just quiet enough that the kid wouldn’t hear. Just loud enough that Morgan did.

Before he could respond, you were already moving.

Your feet carried you toward the police car, toward the sick, selfish bastard they were shoving into the backseat. Your hand shot out, slamming the door closed—harder than necessary, just enough that it cracked against Richard’s face.

Morgan watched. So did Spencer.

And for the first time, he realized just how much of a puzzle you really were.

Partially because, throughout all of this, you hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he entered the room, not when he spoke, not even now, standing just a few feet away.

Partially because your eyes, when he finally caught a glimpse of them, were full of something he rarely saw outside of a case like this. Pure, undiluted rage.

Not just anger. Not just frustration. Something deeper. Something personal.

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part III　 Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

[flippinpancakes64]

Hello, I absolutely love your work. iv re read your stuff so many times that it's getting concerning.

Can I request the cullens x artist reader who made a painting of them I just think that would be cute

The Cullens with an Artist! Reader

Thank you?!?! I suggest seeking mental help for rereading my bad stories tho

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

We all know that he is an artist too

He made Bella a whole song on the piano

As someone who can play the piano, that’s not easy

So he definitely loves that you’re also artistic

For you, he’s a muse

I mean, how could he not be

Literally the definition of perfect

So obvs you sketch him a lot

When he finds an almost finished painting one day of him, he is floored

He can never seem to wrap his mind around the fact that you are just as obsessed with him as he is with you

He hangs it up

Even if it’s not finished

If you insist on finishing it, he will begrudgingly take it down and give it back

But as soon as it’s done it’s all his

Alice:

She’s also an artist

But more with fashion

And design

She’s not so well-versed with the classical arts like painting or sketching

So she always loves seeing your paintings

She’s a coexistence girly

She loves to just be doing something while you’re painting

You know just sort of existing in the same space at the same time

The day you give her the painting, she is so surprised

It was so difficult for you to hide this from her

Especially with her gift

She absolutely loves it

She hangs it in the main room of the Cullen house

She wants absolutely everyone to see it and acknowledge how talented her s/o is

Jasper:

He loves the arts

They’re relaxing to him

Some of his favorite classes he’s ever taken in all of the schools they’ve been at have been art classes

He’s not good by any means, but he loves it anyway

Art dates with him are a must

He would love that tiktok trend where you and your partner trade paintings every couple of minutes

Never misses an opportunity to tell you that he loves your work

He honestly almost started crying when you showed him your painting of him

You made him look so happy, so peaceful

He’s used to being perceived as a monster

Definitely hangs it up

But only in his room

He wants to be the only one to see it

Rosalie:

She’s more of a technical, sciencey person

Not to say she doesn’t like art

Just that she doesn’t necessarily enjoy making it

She can definitely appreciate good work tho

And she loves everything you make

She buys you new supplies all of the time

If just one pen ran out of ink in your favorite set, she would buy you a whole new set

When you give her that first painting though, she’s obsessed

She wants at least 20 more by tomorrow

But actually, she knows that she’s beautiful

But something about the way you capture her is just so different she loves it

Emmett:

He’s not an art person either

He’s a bit of a meathead

But he can appreciate art

Probably not as deeply as other people can

But he know when it looks good

And he genuinely thinks you’re the best artist ever

He will gladly put all of your little doodles in the clear pockets of his binders

And hang them on his locker

When you give him the painting of him he’s actually dumbfounded

Like awestruck

What do you mean the best artist in the world just made a painting of him?

Get ready to be cuddled for the rest of the night

Esme:

Resident artist

We already knew that tho

I’m pretty sure it’s said that she’s the one who made the grad cap piece?

Idk

Either way she loves art

Pottery dates, painting picnics, date nights at the art museum

She loves it

So if you were to ever paint her and give it to her?

Yeah she’s gonna start crying

She just loves art, she loves you, and you put them together and she’s so in love

She hangs it in the main room

It doesn’t matter if the colors clash

And it’s never coming down

Carlisle:

Another appreciater of the arts

I mean, he probably knew Da Vinci on a personal level this guy is so old

So it’s no shock

Whenever he’s home and hanging out with you, he loves to watch you paint or draw

Especially if he’s doing some paperwork

I just feel like he would like the company while he’s working

Now I don’t see Carlisle as the type of guy to necessarily enjoy pictures or paintings of himself

The only portraits he has in his office are either him in a crowd or family photos

So when you give him a portrait of himself, he’s a little shocked at first

He doesn’t want to seem narcissistic, but damn you made him look good

He hangs it up in your shared bedroom

Even though he knows he will likely never have guests who would see it, he wants to make sure it’s hidden

He just doesn’t want people to think he’s vain

But he secretly loves it so much

Vampire! Bella:

I think I’ve talked about it before but this girl would have loved deviantart

Rip Bella you would have loved fan art of your favorite characters

But she totally had an artsy phase

I don’t think she’s necessarily good or bad

She just prefers to look at art rather than make it

So that’s where you come in

She loves just watching you work

Every once in a while she paints with you

But she always feels inferior when she looks at what you made vs what she made

So she usually just sticks to admiring

The first time you give her a portrait of herself, she doesn’t even know what to do

She’s still getting used to actually perceiving herself as beautiful

And then you capture her like she’s a goddess?

She needs to lie down

She loves it tho

[ktempestbradford]

A Story for Star Trek Day

I've told this story on Twitter before. I tell it every Star Trek Day and whenever a Deep Space 9 anniversary rolls around. It's about me and Avery Brooks (aka Best ST Captain Benjamin Sisko).

The college my mother went to specifically started recruiting top Black students in the 60s. Due to this, the Black kids all mostly knew each other as they were in that same program. Avery Brooks went to the same college and they were good friends.

(She once told me he had a huge crush on her and I was like MOM. MOTHER. WHAT. HOW COULD YOU HE COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.)

Anyway, many of the students in this program remained friends long after college. So over the years as Avery was getting TV gigs & such we would all watch cuz he was my mom's friend & I thought that was the coolest. There was one particularly fun night when my best friend's uncle, Frankie Faison, guest starred on A Man Called Hawk. TWO people we know on TV!

When I was in middle school Avery was touring his production of "Paul Robeson" and it came through our town, so I got to see him perform in person (awesooooome) and meet him for the first time since I was a baby (which I did not remember, of course).

Now, backing up a little bit: I am a Star Trek fan because of my mom. She loved the original series and I remember being a wee Tempest in front of the TV watching The Wrath of Khan and us excitedly going to see Star Trek IV together.

I watched TNG from the instant it appeared on TV because of her. I watched all of The Animated Series even though everyone looked "wrong". (Man... it took me 4 months to realize that dude in the red shirt was Scotty cuz I'd only ever seen movie Scotty.)

Then... they announced Deep Space 9.

We heard Avery Brooks would be the commander and there was MUCH rejoicing around our house. DS9 turned out to be the best Trek ever and, of course, Avery was awesome. This was around the time my mom dropped that "he had a crush on me but I wasn't interested" bombshell.

I'm still bitter.

I mean, I love my dad he's great. But SISKO COULD HAVE BEEN MY DAD.

I lost my mom in 1999. She was--and I'm not exaggerating--an extraordinary woman and beloved by many. I received so many beautiful messages of condolence from her friends all the way back to those college years, including Avery. So many people remembered her fondly. <3

I kept watching Star Trek and often talked to her as if she was there during episodes. She would have LOVED Discovery. Especially since she took me to RENT the year I started college. I'm sure she would have shared my opinion of Enterprise as well. But she loved her some Scott Bakula, so she would have watched, anyway.

I got the chance to interview Avery Brooks at DragonCon back in 2013 (jeez, it's been almost 10 years omg). Before the interview, I went up to him on the Walk of Fame and I said:

Hi, I'm (name K stands for) Bradford, I don't know if you remember me...

And he looked up and said: Of course I remember you.

We talked for a bit and I asked if I could come back and interview him later and he said yes (he wasn't supposed to; his handler had A LOOK). I didn't want to hold up his line, so I said I'd see him later.

Before I could go, he reached out for my hand and squeezed it before saying: I loved your mama, you know.

And we just stayed like that for a few seconds, missing her together.

...I might have been trying very hard not to burst into tears.

That DragonCon was the last time I saw Avery. Barring an extraordinary circumstance, that's probably the last time I'll see him in person. I'm glad we got to have that moment together. And we had a great conversation!

His contribution to Trek has meant so much to me. SISKO4EVA

And I'm glad that it's another tie between me, my mom, and Trek. I can't watch DS9 without hearing her voice giving color commentary. Even the episodes she didn't live to see.

I think Star Trek is part of what gave her hope for the future. She passed that on to me. ❤️🖖🏾❤️

Happy Star Trek Day to all who celebrate.

[mattiebluebird]

Yk that post that's like ‘signal is the spiritual successor to nightwing’ bc I DO & IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT IT NON-STOP.

And the comics pretty much confirm it (To Me) in Grayson #15.

So in this issue each of the Robins, minus Steph (RIP Steph) get paired off with one of the We Are Robin gang and give them their own advice on what it means to be Robin.

Tim—whose main problem with this whole thing is that they don't know these kids, how can they trust them?—gets paired with Andre Cipriani, a mob kid whose dad was murdered by a rival gang when he was eight years old. Tim trains Dre by having him fight blindfolded. He tells Dre that being a Robin is about truth and investigation, which makes sense, right? Tim became a Robin by figuring out Batman and Robin’s secret identity (keep this in mind, all the Robins’ advice links to their origin).

To be a Robin, you have to understand what you don't know. And then you must seek to know it. You must always ask: how can I see into the dark? Batman once told me, being a Robin can be summarized into one word: investigation.

These two were an interesting choice to pair up. I would've thought they'd put Dre with Jason, given their violent tendencies—Dre is smart, but at this point in the comics doesn't strike me as particularly investigative. Then again, right after this arc he goes undercover in a gang, so maybe he learned something?

Speaking of learning something: at first I thought they should've paired Dre with Steph (#teamcriminaldads lmao), and while that would be an interesting team, Dre did learn from Tim. If Riko were present in this issue, she would've been a good fit for Steph, as she idolizes the Batgirls and Steph was both a Batgirl and a Robin. Plus, Steph and Riko are both brave & have mean streaks, something that Riko has trouble showing because of her shyness. Steph’s advice probably would've been along the lines of “being a Robin is about defiance”.

Besides, if Tim and Dre weren't paired up, we never would've gotten this interaction.

— You like Liszt.

— What?

— Franz Liszt. The composer. You play the piano. I looked you up. People who play the piano like Liszt.

Points to Tim for the most autistic small talk ever. ‘You like this, which I know because I researched you in a totally non-creepy way.’ Amazing. 10/10.

Dax gets paired with Jason. They're interesting parallels. Dax is the inventor/mechanic of the team, but also sort of the wild card with very strong morals, like Robin!Jason in a way. Like Jason, Dax’s father is (implied to be) a crook, though they took different moral directions because of that—Dax is completely opposed to gun violence.

Anyways, Jason's main reservation is that you can't have Robin without Batman. And I guess he decided to solve this issue by just becoming Batman & making the WAR crew relive his origin story by stealing tires from the mob.

Y'know, kid, Batman once told me, being a Robin comes down to one word: confidence.

Jason Todd, the Crime Alley street kid who had the balls (and the skills) to steal Batman's tires and get away with it. Sort of. Confidence, indeed.

Damian's problem with the Robins is, of course, that they're weak, and strength (according to him) can't be trained; you either got it or you don't. He gets paired with Izzy, who probably has the toughest home life of the WAR crew. Her brother's in a gang (that he regularly beats her up for not joining), and she's failing all her classes because she's too busy working night shifts at her mom's restaurant to sleep or do homework.

So Damian's advice to her is pretty apt:

Batman told me that there is one word that captures the essence of being Robin. Suffering.

Damian and Izzy are both outwardly surly, stubborn characters who have had to fight to survive. Notably, Izzy is the first of the crew to almost resort to killing/guns (in WAR #6). She's also probably the best fighter in the WAR crew after Dre and Riko. She does dancing, gymnastics, judo, and kick-boxing.

And, finally, we reach the point of this whole post: Dick & Duke.

Duke deduces Dick's secret identity in like .5 seconds.

— I've solved a lot of hard in my time. This ain't hard.

— No. No, it wasn't hard. Not for you. Again, Duke Thomas?

Dick: You discovered my secret identity!

Duke: What? Like its hard?

After scoping out their strengths and weaknesses, Dick sends the Robins on individual assignments: Dre and Tim to investigate, Dax and Jason to cause a distraction, Izzy and Damian to apprehend Robo-Batman/Gordon.

Dick brings Duke on to a roof for a stake-out, where they have this exchange.

— You think only the originals understand how to be Robin?

— Nope.

— Yeah. Me neither.

Then it turns out that Dick actually turned them all in to the cops because he wanted them out of harm's way. He's been watching Duke for a while and he knows he's scared of heights, so he led him onto a roof he knew he couldn't get off of. Just before they part ways, Dick imparts his Crucial Robin Advice:

Batman once wais to me that being a Robin is about one thing. Family.

(I find this whole thing super ironic considering Dick's whole aside concerning the Robins was the fact that it doesn't matter if people know you're manipulating them as long as it works.)

The point of Robin? Family. Dick and Duke are alike in this way. Dick only became Robin to get justice for his parents’ murder. Duke only joined WAR to find his parents.

Their origins and motivations are similar, and so are the characters themselves. Dick is often called the world's second-greatest detective next to Batman himself. Duke is a child prodigy—one of our first introductions to his character is when he tried to solve the Riddler's riddles in Zero Year. He loves puzzles. He's an amazing detective.

And, of course, one of the things we know and love about Nightwing is his inherent kindness, something that's present throughout Duke’s entire character arc. Even their hero names, Signal and Nightwing, are parallels of each other (light and dark). Batman’s first sidekick and his last. And, like Nightwing, Signal formed his own team (WAR) with no help from the others (except Alfred ig).

Of course, the entire point of Signal’s character is that he's not just a Robin. He's something different. It reminds me of that post that's like—’poor dick grayson, originator of a legacy he never meant to be a legacy, crushed with guilt and jealousy when he looks at all those who came after’. To me at least, it makes sense that Nightwing’s successor would've never been a Robin at all.

[daenysthedreamersblog]

SUN BLEACHED FLIES- A STRANGERS STORY (IV)

God loves you, but not enough to save you

So, baby girl, good luck taking care of yourself

But I always knew that in the end no one was coming to save me

So I just prayed and I keep praying and praying and praying

summary: life was good, well as good as it could be always living on the end of president snow's leash dreaming of the freedom you don't even want

pairings: president!coriolanus snow x district6!reader

warnings: MDNI!! BLOOD! violence, power imbalance, coercion, slapping, choking, murder, death, suicide, gore, smut!!, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, dub-con, knives!!

notes: omgg i love these two and i hope i did them justice in this probable final piece of theirs, could have been rougher but sometimes u got to let the story write u ya know anyways!! enjoy my little psychopaths

His head moves over yours in beautiful slow motion, blond strands brushing against your forehead, sweat sliding down his nose to drip onto your parted lips. You drink it like holy water, like his sweat is the only thing that you can keep down as he thrust into you. Blue eyes bore into your own, burrowing down deep into you decrepit soul, or where it used to be, you had traded it over to him long ago for this, for him. You run your hands down wet naked skin as his movement slowed, as he spills inside of you with a teeth grinding groan.

The world comes back into focus as you stare up at his face watching him push curling blond hair off of his forehead. He brings his mouth down to let his teeth graze your jaw. You close your eyes as he pulls out of you, that ever gnawing emptiness replacing him, and slides next to your body, arms remaining locked around your waist. "Have dinner with me tonight." He trails his mouth up your neck. You open your mouth to remind him you had dinner with him every night in your pretty cage of a bedroom, "Downstairs." You turn to take in his face. "I have a surprise for you."

You answer by rolling over on top of him.

Later in the evening he sends his team of stylist to your room to get you ready. They put your hair into a delicate messy up-do and a layer of makeup before slipping on the champagne satin gown. You only were allowed to get dressed up for every Hunger Games when he paraded you around for everyone to see, then whisked you away to fuck you against the bathroom wall for everyone to hear. They leave you in a gentle silence letting you stare at your reflection for far longer than you should. You never recognized yourself, like that girl who's name had been reaped didn't exist anymore, had never existed at all. Your reflection was simply a ghost, a reminder of what he had turned you into, this hallow needy pliant shell, so you stand up and leave the room heels softly clicking against his wooden floor not believing much in ghost.

He's sitting at the head of the table drinking brown liquor out of a glass cup as he watches you walk into the room.

You take the seat on his right.

"You look nice." You watch as he leans forward to fill your glass up with white wine. You avoid grabbing it too quickly, forcing yourself to drink it slow instead of chugging it back. He liked to limit your alcohol intake, only letting you have it on special occasions which apparently was tonight.

This was the dance you always had been in with him since you won. It had been years since he locked you away here, years since you decided to not even bother trying to run away, maybe didn't even want to. You weren't even sure if you had ever wanted anything besides him. He had gotten married, he had children, the games continued, the world moved on, but the two of you were stuck in this suspended moment of time with each other.

"I'm having Livia and the children moved." He said cutting into his food. You sipped on your wine. "It's for the best they're not here."

"Won't you miss them?" You didn't see them often, especially Livia. At first she would come to dinner with the two of you, but once the children came you all had decided it best if they did not see you. You knew she still sometimes listened outside your door when her husband fucked you, but usually on nights she had too much to drink.

He sneered, "Not her." He didn't like her, but he did find enjoyment with his children. He wasn't overly affectionate with them, nor a very present parent but he did put an effort into making sure they were raised properly. They had once stumbled upon you in the greenhouse, and for a moment the world seemed to make pretend the four of you were one big happy family as he let you show them the few bluebells you had planted in the corner where no one could see. You saw him in their little faces, their bright blue eyes, and you wanted to please them just as much, make them proud of you.

But they weren't him, and you didn't care for anything that wasn't.

You pretended you needed to leave, and he went along with it as you dismissed yourself and vowed to never see them again. You didn't want to scare them, scare yourself with too many wrong feelings.

"Is that the surprise?" It would be nice to move more freely within his home without running into their little faces, running into Livia who despised you.

He put more food onto your plate shaking his head. "No. I have news of your parents." You sat up straighter. You hadn't been back to District 6 since he put you on that train and you knew he would never let you go back even if you asked, even if you wanted to. You weren't sure if you missed them, you know you should but it was hard to feel anything besides your hunger for him. It did puzzle you they never came asking for you, never tried to find you to bring you home, never tried to save you. You assumed they had been paid off or-!

"They're dead."

Your heart drops, it was a strange feeling. "What?"

He waved his hand like it was nothing, like they were nothing. "Morphling overdose." You furrowed your brows shaking your own head. No, they weren't addicts, they hated that you had drank so much after the Games. You're spiraling, so lost in trying to figure out how it happened you almost miss his confession, "They wouldn't stop asking about you."

Your vision tunneled in on his face. "You-you did it?"

You catch your slip right as his hand makes contact with your face snapping your head to the side. Don't stutter. But now your cheek was stinging with the consequences of your insubordination. Gentle fingers cup under your chin to turn your reddened face towards him, "They would have taken you from me." He spoke it so softly that you figured it had come from kindness.

What had he said to you all those nights ago within a thrown away plea, the sentence you had unwillingly agreed to that sealed your fate. 'Did you mean?' He whispered, 'That you don't want anyone to take you away from me.'

He runs his finger along your arm so gently tracing the blue veins like he too was thinking on the fond memory, "I only gave them the morphling; it isn't my fault they took so much of it." You close your eyes; he had gotten them hooked on morphling to the point they had overdosed and died all because they asked about you.

They had asked about you.

The hand gripping your wine glass squeezes too hard and the glass shatters around the table. Had they missed you? Did they love you? They had to have to ask him about you, but it's so hard to remember it, so hard to make your brain picture what that felt like. You know he's looking at you, can feel his eyes burning into your skull as you stare at the broken pieces, your blood dripping onto the edges. You grab the biggest piece and jump across the table at him. He roars as you jam it down into his shoulder reeling back with his own cup and smashing it across your head.

"I did it for you!" Your body flies to the side, cool marble meeting your skin, as he straddles your leg, hands coming around your neck too quickly, strangling you.

"Sir?" You hear his guards asking if they need to shoot you, they were always ready to.

He glances over his shoulder at them while you clawed at his wrist, legs flailing out trying to breath, "It's fine!" He looks back at you letting go of your throat admiring the color returning to your face, "It's fine." He grinds his teeth contemplating his next move, then he's clicking his tongue at you as you heave breaths. "I thought you'd be happy." He's sliding his hand up your thigh, "Aren't you happy?" Fingers meet your bare, soaked cunt, "Come on tell me what I want to hear." He pushes two fingers inside of you and you bite down on your bottom lip holding in the trained response, holding in the war raging inside of your cursed bleeding heart. You felt so alone in the world, but you weren't, you had him in every tortured version of this, you had him. His hand shifts, thumb pressing down on your clit and your mouth parts in a weak whimper. You glanced up at him expecting satisfaction, but cool anger greets you, "I thought you had let that pathetic life go."

"Th-!"

He pulls his hand out yanking you upward by your arm and throws you into the table bending your body around the wood, dishes clattering under you. "Maybe you need a reminder of how good you have it here." He rips your dress up around your hips baring your nakedness to him. You barely have time to register it before he slams into you. You gasp out against shattered silverware, glass poking into you as he starts to brutally thrust into you. "You don't have anyone else now." Your hands grasp for purchase on the table runner tears prickling your eyes, you're not sure what you're crying for, "You don't need anyone else." You try to pick up your head confusion and confirmation melding in your bones, but he slams it back down abusing your cervix with every deep thrust into you. "They were nothing!" His hips snap against yours, "I saved you! I am all you need." His hand snakes around your body pressing into your clit and you moan in agreement. He's right; he was all you needed. Not that life you had grieved, not the rumble of trains leaving the district, not the oil coating your father's hands or the tea your mother served. Your eyes squeeze shut as your body relaxes around him letting strange memories fade away like strange mechanical smoke. You arch your back for him. "There's my darling bluebell." You hear the smile in his voice and you melt into his skin knowing this was truly everything. You don't even listen to your broken heart weeping that they had asked for you as soon as the orgasm washes over you. He pounds into you harder, fingers marking your skin until his cum is coating every wicked part of inside of you.

You watch the blood drying on your hand.

He kisses your shoulder his cock still buried deep inside of you, "I did it for you bluebell." He pulls out of you, gently straightening your dress down before helping you stand up properly.

You turn to face him. He picks strands of glass out of your hair before pushing it off of your face, some pieces sticking to the blood on the side of your head. "Thank you Mr. President, sir."

He had ruined you, and you thanked him for it.

"Such a good girl." He cups your face and kisses your forehead. He glances to the back of the room where servants and guards no doubt stood watching. "Clean this up." He wraps his hand around your waist to lead you out of the room.

The months pass normally, without much change, which brings a sense of calm as you watch the seasons filter through the bars of your pretty cage. You watch the leaves change from green to orange to brown until they finally died on the ground below. You watched snow blanket the grounds of his mansion, watch it fall silently at night when the full moon was high and he lay naked in the bed behind you. How easy it would be to turn around and stab him in his frozen heart over and over again letting his blood pelt down on you like the rain hitting your window. Instead you watch snow melt on the wilted mushy grass below, watch the bugs fly across your window, watch them land and you wonder how freeing it felt to escape the little landing they had made within the hole of your inclosure.

But that freedom isn't worth it and dead flies stare back at you in their windowsill graves.

You make your way down to the greenhouse set on planting your spring flowers before summer took its complete hold over the world. You feel peace as you close the door behind you plunging the area in serene silence.

It's the only time you truly ever smile as your hand sinks into dirt, as you dig out a home for his white roses. He didn't let you plant them at first knowing your history of killing them on accident, but you had proved yourself, as you had with everything.

This is as far as he let you go within his property. You knew he was still watching, knew there were cameras, knew he had guards somewhere keeping an eye on you. It didn't matter, you told yourself with a gentle grin on your lips covering up the plant. No, not truly, as you watered it. This was your life now, it had been for years and you were content with the security, the seclusion, the insanity of it all, and besides you were nothing without him.

You glance in the far back corner of the room where empty pots sat that had once held your small number of blooming bluebells. They had withered and died long ago, you had let them, and never planted them again.

You liked his roses more.

Most of the day is gone when you head back into his home, and the minute the door closes something feels off, the hair on your neck standing up. You tuck your head down and make your way for the stairs to go back to your room not feeling up to figuring out why the house felt strange.

You didn't need to go searching for it since she was standing in your room.

"Mrs. Snow."

She sneers, "Oh yes I forgot you were so proper."

Don't stutter. "Can I help you with something?" You have your hands clasp in front of you standing up too straight as you watch her.

"Where is he?" She ask peering at her freshly manicured nails like this conversation bored her. You swallow unsure what to tell her. You didn't know where he was, he usually left in the morning for work and returned in the evening without this much fuss. "He wasn't at work, and I know he usually doesn't let you go too far off your leash." She stands up as you continue to not answer, but her eyes dart behind you. "Right again."

"Livia." You nearly collapse in relief at his voice behind you, at the wetness slipping out of you, at his hands coming onto your shoulders. "You shouldn't be here."

She glares, "See that's where you're wrong." Livia points at you, "That thing shouldn't be here. This is my home, I am your wife." You feel his fingers dig into your skin. "Why should I be holed up in that stupid apartment while it gets to play house in my mansion."

"It's my mansion Livia." He corrects her fingers toying with the skin on your neck. "And it's a very big apartment."

"You married me, you had children with me, you should live with me." Her cheeks flush in anger. "I don't care that you have a mistress, I don't care that you two are sick fucking people." She came forward too close, finger pointed at him, "I want what you promised me Coriolanus."

Your hand flies out as you slap her across the face. The room stills, you grab your hand back like it was a separate entity. You knew why it happened. Besides the way you moaned it, he didn't like when people used his real name and not his titled one, you didn't like that she had gotten too close to him. You had attacked others for far less offenses. She reels back her own hand, but he stops her midair with a hand around her wrist, "I gave you what I promised you Livia." He sighed, "You are the president's wife, you have financial and social standing, you are well provided for, what the fuck else could you possibly want."

"I want that thing gone, out of my home, my sight, my life." She hissed.

"Careful Livia," He laughed menacingly at her, "You're starting to sound jealous." He let go of her hand and motioned to the chair off to the side of the room, "Do I need to remind you of where your place is in all of this?"

You feel the wetness slide further down your leg at the mention of what he meant, the mention of making her watch as he took you over and over again like he had on their wedding night. She cringed, "You disgust me."

He pushed hair off of your neck kissing the sensitive skin there, "Then leave, go back to where I put you." She pushed past the two of you and stormed off down the hallway. He didn't even close the door as he turned you around and cupped your face, "She's a nuisance." He backed you up until the back of your knees hit the bed.

"She's your wife."

"I don't care." He mumbled onto your skin kissing across your collarbones as he laid you back onto the bed. "I liked watching you slap her." You knew he did from the feel of his hard cock pressing into your back when you had done it. He travels down your body until he's between your legs, and then he plants a soft kiss to your bare cunt. "You did too, didn't you bluebell?"

Only a small whine leaves your throat as his tongue swirls around your clit and everything seems to vanish in your head, all you can focus on is his mouth on your pussy. Your fingers are in his hair as you tilt your hips up for him more, his tongue pressing rough circles into the sensitive bud. You craved his pleasure, you craved his violence and nothing ever chased that feeling of need away besides him. His mouth wraps around your clit and sucks making you see stars behind your eyes back arching for it, body aching for it, for him. You push back with your hips with every stroke of his tongue before looking down at him staring into his hungry dark eyes as you cum against his face. He keeps licking at you, letting you ride it out on his tongue hands slowly releasing his hair.

He pushes up onto his knees your pleasure glistening on his chin. "Are you jealous?" You furrow your brows, but you know what he's asking. Were you jealous of Livia? That she got to marry him, have his children and go out in public with him. You and him had grown closer to each other throughout the years of twining your decaying souls together, it was something wretched and inhumane, your hatred had settled into something more docile.

But it always remained.

"No," You didn't want to marry him, or have his children, or go out with him at all besides that once-a-year Hunger Games party. "Mr. President, sir." You only truly ever liked him when he was inside of you, and you knew he shared the sentiment.

The corners of his mouth begin to straighten out of his joking smirk and suddenly you're unsure if you gave him the right answer. He stares at you, and you stare at him. Then he sighs and slides in next to your body, "How long has it been?"

"I never kept track Mr. President, sir." It could have been two years or seven or fifteen you could never be sure, you lost time like you had lost yourself. He never let you have a clock anyways and why did it matter, it's not like he was ever going to let you leave at a certain point in time, nor did you want to. He had told you forever, so forever you stayed within.

You had nothing but him.

You tuck yourself into his chest.

It's dark when he comes for you. He slithers in behind you, hard cock digging into your backside and you're snaking your hand around his head to pull him closer.

His teeth graze your neck, "Not now." But he bites your shoulder and you mewl for him pushing your ass back into him. "We don't have time." He hikes up your nightgown anyways, fingers dipping into your drenched cunt and you shift your self forward to give him more room to curl his hand up inside of you. "You can't help it can you." You shake your head into the sheets as he moves his hand faster only making you whine louder when he pulls it out, "Want me to fuck you that badly?" He doesn't even wait for the response he already knew before sliding down into you. It fills you too heavenly as you fist the blankets, biting down on the corner of your pillow as he slowly thrust into you. You'll never be full of him as you arch back, pushing yourself into him more, feeling every delicious stroke of his cock.

He pulls up slightly pounding down into you, twisting his hand in your hair to arch your back for him more until bones are groaning along with you. You squeeze your eyes feeling your body clenching around him, the heat of it pooling in your stomach, toes curling into the mattress. And then you're coming around him moaning out into the pitch black room as he lets your head drop back down so he can grip your hips wildly thrusting into you until he cums deep inside of you.

He runs a finger down your spine.

He leans down pushing it all into you with a kiss on you head. "Come with me." He pulls out too quickly and you turn to look at him confused while artificial light suddenly pours in through the window. He tucks himself away before holding his hand out for you. You look between his hand and his face with a small shake in your head the sense of unease filling you tamed blood. His eyes narrow on you so you glance down at your nightgown, "It doesn't matter, now come." His tone bites at the end so you climb to your feet to take his hand, letting him drag you from the room, down the stairs, and out into the foyer.

Your unease had been correct.

Livia is there, disheveled, hands tied behind her back and a gag around her mouth. She starts yelling frightfully into it when she sees you coming down the stairs. Two peacekeepers are standing on either side of the door, fingers on their triggers as they watch her. You still on the last step.

He motions to her; but your forehead is creased in confusion. He sighs coming back towards you, hands coming around your face, "It's been eight years, four months, and twenty-three days." You still didn't understand what that had to do with his wife, "You've been so good to me all these years." He comes closer pressing his mouth to your ear, "I need you to do one more thing for me."

You look past him at Livia who's eyes were widening with settled fear, understanding what this all meant. He wanted you to hunt her down and kill her. He wanted to watch you in the Games one more time.

He pulls back slightly to glance down at your face. His body presses in close to yours, a hand grasping onto your waist, "Will you do this for me?"

Something churns inside of you as you blink up at him, noses touching each other. There was no version of this where you got to say no to anything he said, it has always been that way, he had taken everything from you and still wanted to take more like the starving man he was, always grasping insatiably at you. So you tap into that rabid part of you he had always adored more, "Yes Mr. President, sir."

"My good girl," He smiles gently kissing your mouth. He waves his hand and you hear rope being sliced. Livia's shoes dig into the ground as they drag her outside no doubt giving her a head start from you. He caresses your face, "Now... tell me your mine."

His cum slides down your legs, "I am your creature. I am yours."

He let's go moving to the side as you fly out of the door after her like a hound on her scent. The moon offer its little light as you run into the night onto the property. His bright big floodlights make up the rest, beaming down upon you not allowing her any advantage in the natural darkness, you figured he might have wanted to give her some fighting chance since she truly stood no chance at all.

She had been his wife after all, and you simply, were his district mutt.

You still, the grass wet under your feet, a soft drizzle falling down on your skin as you look for her, listen for her, thunder rumbling in the distance. In your Games you had hid, you had survived until it was only you and that district two boy left, but now you were the predator hunting down the weaker tribute. Lightning cracked, illuminating her figure slipping into the trees.

You sprinted for her your moist nightgown flapping against skin. She clambered off into the woods loud footsteps stomping into the ground whimpering sobs echoing around her. It wasn't a large area of trees, something he had had planted around his home for privacy reasons, and it had offered her the cover she needed to evade you for longer. You slowed, listening to her stumble around in the dark forest letting the broken moonlight guide you on a path. The rain was coming down harder, leaves shaking with the pressure and wind while you searched for her with water dripping down your back.

Then it's quiet.

Your bare foot sinks into mud peering into the darkness.

She shouts as she runs for you stabbing you in back before taking off again. You groan as you reach back for it, struggling to wrap your fingers around the handle to yank it out, blood now pooling down your back. They had given her a weapon, a chance, and now she had squandered it.

You look down. It was the same knife you had killed that district boy with.

Your eye twitches.

You run after her, jumping over fallen logs, skimming past loose branches as thunder shakes the arena, rain pelting you. It was kill or be killed just like it had been when you had won the first time, you would win again. You take her to the ground as she claws at you slashing across your cheek.

"Stop!" She screams but you sink the knife into her arm watching her cry out in pain. You yank it back and plunge it down again but she keeps moving, keeps fighting and it slams into the ground. "People will ask about me, wonder where the president's wife went!" And you knew you'd kill them too if he asked. She knows it too as the knife slashes her wrist. "Kill him! He ruined your life!" Her fingers find fallen parts of trees and rocks and shes hitting you with them to get you off. "He killed your parents!"

You stop, eyes quivering down at her as lightning shoots across the sky behind you. You didn't have parents. You didn't. You only had him. You squeeze your eyes, but no-no that didn't seem true either. You can smell oil. You can smell vanilla tea in a small kitchen. You can feel the trains rumbling your house. My darling bluebell. You open your eyes, no that was just the storm crashing down onto you, that's just what he called you, no one else. There was no one else, only him. She uses your distraction to shove you off and climb on-top of you a large rock in her hands to break your skull open.

But it doesn't even matter if they were alive or not, if they were real or not, no one was coming to save you.

He had saved you

She's crying, or maybe it's rain. "Do you love him?" Her voice broke with her own heart.

"No."

You shove upward with the knife hearing the sick wet noise of stabbing her organs. Blood splashes down onto you as you rip the knife out. Her body slinks off of you into the dirt and she's grabbing at the growing wound staring upward at the sky.

White moonlight blankets her face in the break of trees as she coughs up blood. "I-I'm his wife." Don't stutter, you want to tell her, but all you can do is stare at her while she dies. "I used to wonder how after all these years you two can still fuck each other like animals." She swallows blood, "But then I realized you two are animals." You straddle her hemorrhaging body, "What will you be when I'm gone."

"His victor." You stab the knife down into her chest listening to the sick crunch of her sternum bone. Once, twice, three times you bring it down into her, blood splattering across skin, dripping down your body. You didn't hate her, you didn't think much of her, but then again you hadn't hated that boy from two and you had butchered him just the same.

She chokes on more blood then goes still beneath you. You wait for the canon, but only the storm answers you. You raise your face towards the onyx oblivion letting the rain splatter onto you washing her blood off of your skin, but the slick coating it left would remain, just like that boy from two. You take three deep breaths before standing up staring out into the dark distance wondering if he was watching. You could run. You could hold onto this knife and take off into the night and maybe make it out. He kept a tight leash on you, but he had let you off of it for this, would he expect you not to come back to him. A red light of a camera blinked within the bark of a tree; what was out there for you anyways? Something tugged behind your naval, a string pulling you backwards, and you figured you quite liked your cage, it was all you ever had. You sigh, wrapping your hand around her ankle, and dragging her body back towards the house.

The floodlights shine down on you as you break through the trees, peacekeepers all back to their post surrounding him standing in the middle of the lawn like your lighthouse on treacherous waters.

Like the God you had always prayed would save you.

You dropped her leg and walked towards him. "My darling bluebell." He cups his hand around your neck tilting your face up to his.

The tip of the knife presses into his stomach as your eyes bare into his. "You kept track." You push inward more the blade barely even cutting through clothing. He doesn't even try to stop you from stabbing him if you chose, and you wanted to. You wanted to shove it in deep, wanted to rip his intestines out to strangle him with.

"My sweet creature." His thumb caresses your filthy cheek, and then he presses your lips to his. Your mouths meld together, his tongue slipping inside tasting the dirt, your blood, her blood, all of it in a depraved kiss. Slowly, long fingers wrap around your wrist tugging your hand, the knife, upward until the sharp bloody blade is pressed to the soft flesh of your neck. You want him to slide it across, slash your throat wide open so you could finally escape him. He pressed in harder, the warm trickle of your own blood leaking down cool skin. That's as much as he pushes and you gaze up at him the question written on your every feature.

He tucks filthy hair behind your ear, "I've bent you so much, and you never break." He smiles at nothing, sadness his response. "My darling bluebell, my beautiful savage." His hand comes off of your wrist giving you the final choice in your death. His thumb traces your ear, "Would you do it if I asked you to?" Rain drips off of your nose onto your upper lip as it quivers out the gentle plea, your hand shakes, the blade cutting in a little deeper. The corner of his mouth ticks up, "You would, wouldn't you my good girl." It's pathetic because he had always been right about you, but maybe that was because he had made you. He softly tugged on your thumb holding the handle of the blade, "I find I am not quite fond of the idea of losing you."

He's all you know, and all you want to know, the sin you can never seem to cleanse yourself of. For some reason, you're not quite fond of losing him either.

The knife falls to the ground below

His hands travel down your body, cupping under you ass, and wrapping your legs around his body to walk you back inside his house. The doors slam shut behind you as his mouth never leaves yours, he slams you back into the wall paintings clattering to the floor as he keeps kissing you savagely. It all teeth and spit and tongues as your fingers rip open his shirt buttons flying in every direction dragging your dirty nails down his pristine chest.

It consumes you, he consumes you with an insatiable need that is never enough to fill a void he had scooped out of you. His hand slithers down your body to shove inside of you, to curl against that sweet spot that has your panting into his open mouth. "Am I all you need?" His hand thrust into you as his mouth trails across your jaw. "All you want?"

"Yes Mr. President, sir." You moan.

He growls shoving his body against yours, teeth digging into your skin. "My good fucking girl."

His palm presses down onto your clit as you move your hips with him fucking his hand until you can't keep your eyes open, gripping the wall behind you with chipped blood stained nails. You feel your skin split open from his canines and your clamping down around him, gushing around his knuckles until your body stops moving. He slams you down onto the stairs and pushes himself inside of you in one quick stroke.

You're covered in blood, covered in him and all you can do is claw at his back as he fucks you roughly against wooden steps. You wrap you legs around him to keep him close feeling his cock slide against a delicious spot that has you whimpering for more, always for more. Your mind feels empty but thoughts of him, your brain wired to his every whim. You didn't love him, you hated him viciously, but you worshipped him obsessively like he was the sick god who had stolen you away to his underworld. It would be you and him until the end of time tied together with bloody strings and pomegranate seeds. His fist kneads into your breast, his head following the same pattern to wrap around your nipple, licking and biting and sucking making you tilt your pelvis up for him to thrust into you deeper. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, blood filling your mouth as he growls into your skin thrusting even harder and faster. Heat pools inside of you, you feel yourself clenching around him with every powerful stroke of his cock.

"Cum for me baby girl."

It twist a knife inside your hallow chest as you clamp down around him screaming out his name into his mansion, the echo of it hitting off every wall. His fingers dig into your bones as he spills inside of you coating everything that belongs to him. You lose track of time as you lay there, stairs pressing into your back, his cock still twitching inside of you. You're both covered in sweat and blood and rain and each other, no one dares to move.

He pulls back to stare down at you brushing wet hair away from your face, his dried blood splattered down your chin and neck. There's something too soft in his blue eyes and it forces your brows to softly furrow at the unnamed emotion crossing over his features.

He whispers your name, something he never said.

You lean away from him.

"Tell me you hate me." The back of his nail slides across your collarbones and you want him to plunge it into you chest to pluck out your rotting heart to eat.

"I hate you." You whisper. "Mr. President, sir."

He kisses you like he was air you needed to breath and pulls out of you, slowly standing up. He walks around you disappearing up the stairs without a backwards glance. You lay there for a moment before standing up as well to walk back to your glorious cage to wait for him.

The world is so much quieter now, smaller as you walk down the Avenue of the Tributes alone. You had sat in the stands watching everything happen, watched that girl fire her arrow, watched them attack, watched them all slowly leave.

You stayed.

You watched with you hands folded over your lap as they killed him. You never looked away. And once everyone was gone you climbed down and walked so slowly along that long avenue towards his body.

He was still tied up, but most of him was gone, mangled blood and clothing on the ground around him. You stopped in front of him, his blood under your shoes, feeling the tears involuntarily sliding down your face. After so many years he was finally dead, you were finally free. You searched internally to name the emotion you were feeling, but there wasn't anything left of you anymore. It had all stopped when his heart did. It had all stopped when your name was pulled.

Through the gore and torn flesh you could still see pieces of wrinkled skin, hair white as snow, blue eyes buried under it all, but he would always remain that young man you had grown to loathe. You thought of his children, the same beautiful blue eyed children you had helped him raise, helped him train like show dogs, stepping in like some wet nurse after you brutally murdered their mother. You wonder what would become of them now that the whole world had collapsed with their father.

Your whole world.

You take another step forward your foot rolling over something. You bend down and pick up the small pill rolling it between two fingers, glancing up at his dead body. You thought of your pretty cage, thought of that bed you always seemed to be in.

You were always in that house, in that room. You could never get out, and now you could never go back home. You were always meant to bleed together. You had nothing, but you had him.

You slip the nightlock pill between your lips and swallow it down.

He was like a temple, left here for only you to worship at one last time. You go onto your knees in front of him taking in your last breath before collapsing in the pool of his blood at his feet, where you had always belonged.

If it's meant to be then it will be

So I met him there and told him I believe

Singing if it's meant to be then it'll be

I forgive it all as it comes back to me

endnotes: i was driving home from work and sun bleached flies by ethel cain came on and the minute i parked i wrote down the idea from this so its her fault i kept writing for these two psychos :) hope u all enjoyed!!

tags: @wearemadeofstardust0 , @astarborntowrite, @genderfluid-anime-goth , @merlieve , @darktrashsoulbear , @euphemiaamillais , @dousyskid , @bunny24sstuff , @bloobewy , @tmblrsexyw0man , @italiekim , @anthgoldenhrry , @becauseseaotters bold is tumblr wouldn't let me tag

[horny-p0et]

simpbur x streamer!reader part three

writing makes me feel good, enjoying getting back into it. more to come (hopefully) and as always, thank you for reading and my ask box and dms are always open. feels nice to be back :)

part one part two

warnings: stalking, obsession, reckless spending, usual simpbur behaviour

wordcount: 1443

dont like, dni. please just block me and move on.

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SIMPBUR who put so much time into your existence that he's falling behind in classes. he's been a fan for about three months now but it feels like a lifetime by your side. he's smart and always done well in school, but university seems so pointless when you're on his mind. why bother writing an assignment when he could watch your videos? what point is there spending time with his friends when he'd rather watch your streams? it's like you're attached to him with an IV, sustaining him.

SIMPBUR who finds out where you live from your posts online. he justifies it in his head, the information is there and he just put together the whole picture. seeing the bars and restaurants you've been to on your instagram story he gets the city you live in, managing to narrow down the suburb from a snapchat of you walking down a street with some friends. the house tour vlog on your youtube gives him the exact address, when he compares the photos to apartments for rent listed in the area from when he knew you moved in. it's not weird, you posted the information for him- he's smart, and you'd be so proud of him for figuring it out! you probably posted the clues for him, a test of his devotion.

SIMPBUR who considers the flights over to your city, even though its far to expensive for him to go logically. sure you'd be a little startled if he showed up at your front door, but if he brought flowers and some of the poem's he'd written you'd find it romantic. that's what guys do in movies for girls they love, huge romantic gestures to impress the girl. after all, he's seen enough films where a nerdy guy like him manages to convince the pretty girl to get with them, and by the end of the 90 minutes they kiss and live happily ever after.

SIMPBUR who gets a notification in your discord your having mod applications, and applies as quickly as his fingers can type out the response. he hasn't focused this hard on his school work in months, but he treats this like an application to harvard. he knows he deserves the position, he's been supporting and defending you for months now when it wasn't a job, and he could be trusted to look after you officially. he's a good guy, the best guy- for you.

SIMPBUR who cries tears of joy when he gets the email that says he's been approved and is now a mod for your twitch streams and community discord. this was it, you essentially admitted you needed him, and of course he was more than happy to oblige. he would move the stars if it made you happy.

SIMPBUR who starts taking extra shifts to cover the costs of his gift subs and bits and its still not enough. you do a subathon and he asks his mum for some extra money, even though he's an adult who shouldn't be doing that sort of thing. he lies and says its for a friends birthday and he's buying them a present, which, technically is true. it's your birthday subathon, and he wants to make it special for you. you guy's are basically best friends at this point in his mind, your fleeting interactions online have convinced him your relationship is greater than fan and creator.

SIMPBUR who waits with bated breath for the subathon to start, knees bouncing under his desk as he watches the starting soon screen. you're playing a song he recognises from your spotify, you love that band- you've seen them live three times (you mentioned it in a vlog months ago), maybe he should buy you both meet and greet tickets to their next show and you two could go on a date. it would be so cute- you'd tell him how happy you are to be enjoying it with him by your side.

SIMPBUR who feels like the world melts away when you appear on his screen, waving at the camera and greeting your chat with a big smile. god, your smile. he swears you must have been created by the angels just for him, it never fails to give him butterflies (and stiffen his cock). he's already in chat, typing a bunch of messages in a row and spamming emotes to try and get your attention.

"you guys probably saw in the discord but i've gotten some new moderators working with me now, so no funny business or they'll hit you with the ban hammer."

<W1LLbaby> nothing is gonna get past me, i promise. i'd do anything for you <3

<W1LLbaby> i'll be here every stream not matter the time to make sure you're okay

<W1LLbaby> the best mod you've ever had, won't need anyone else <3 <3

"ha, well don't discredit the rest of my mod team. but i'm sure you wont disappoint, my chat already loves you."

SIMPBUR who feels like he has purpose now he's working on your streams, catching every message that he considers inappropriate. even some compliments cross the line in his mind, since he hates knowing other people admire you like he does. sure, he loves how successful you are and wants you to be supported, but he doesn't like sharing.

SIMPBUR who donates at least $200 worth of gift subs and bits during the stream, enjoying the excited giggle you make when you read the notification. he loves hearing you say his username, how the words roll off your tongue. he wishes it was his real name, whispered in his ear as you played with his hair but for now he'll take the crumbs your throwing him. he'll take anything. he'd literally eat the crumbs off your plate if he could.

SIMPBUR who goes to your amazon wishlist during the stream to buy you a birthday gift, deciding on an expensive gaming chair. it was the most expensive item on the list, and you deserve it. he imagined how he will see you sitting on the thing he got you on stream, comfortable because of his kindness. he wonders if you'd sit on his lap while you streamed, his hands around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder as you talk to chat. how jealous your fans would be seeing you in his arms. it gives him a sense of masculine pride so he buys it for you.

SIMPBUR who feels like his heart stops when you announce at the end of the stream you'll be going to twitchcon for the first time in your career. you'll be hosting a meet and greet, that you're so excited to meet your fans for the first time since you blew up online. he knows you're most excited to meet him, you're probably just too shy to mention it on stream.

SIMPBUR who is already buying tickets and checking flights on his second monitor before you're stream is over, his fingers fumbling across the keyboard as he finds a cheap hotel and works out how much he'll need to save up so he can go. it's only about two months away, but it feels like a lifetime. he can't imagine being in the same room as you, breathing the same air, putting his arm around you for a photo... it makes his head spin.

SIMPBUR who spams some more compliments into chat before stream ends, making sure you know how much he appreciates you. you don't react on stream, but he's confident you read it. you probably mentioned the meet and greet on stream because you knew he would come, and he'd bring you some flowers and you'd tell him how much you loved him. the image it creates in his mind is enough to make him smile to himself like an idiot.

SIMPBUR who chats in your discord for a while after stream, chatting with other fans who are excited for the convention. not at excited as him obviously. he works on a fanfiction he's had in his drafts for a few weeks before his eyes start to burn from staring at his screen for too long. he looks at the time, its already 3 in the morning and he has school tomorrow. not that he cares much for that anymore.

SIMPBUR who drags himself to bed, wrapping his gangly arms around a pillow and pretends he's cuddling you. he's been doing it for weeks, whispering praise to the inanimate object as though you can hear it. he's never even cuddled a girl before, so he's making sure he gets some practise in before you guys meet. he wants to be the best boyfriend, the best person you've ever met. he won't let you down. ever.

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taglist: @lillyspeakz @multifandomhallucinations @xxvalentinezxx @charlidog @bellelikesmcyt @heartofwritiing (reply or send an ask to be added/removed)

[feelo-fick]

WELCOME TO PHIO'S EXTREMELY SELF INDULGENT AU HOUR!!!

"Oh, FINALLY, another visitor! It's so quiet in here, it's unnerving..."

—

This AU was meant to be posted on halloween but eh.... Happy Thanksgiving? HAHAHHA

still dont have a name for it, but basically, back in october i was suddenly hit with the need to have a halloween au, so now we have ghost-ified prismo and vampire/witch-ified scarab :D ( although didnt finish the scarab reference spread in time because uh, school and i lost motivation unfortunately )

au synopsis and rambling below the cut!!

the premise of this au is simple : scarab is a real estate agent whos known for his manners ( never barges in, always waits to be invited! though it is a little weird how he keeps asking to be let inside even if they already agreed that he was going to come over... ) and efficiency at his job - that is, convincing people to buy high-end housing for a good price. although his social skills need some... work, his ability to persuade people isnt something to be laughed at.

unfortunately for him, persuading the higher-ups is a completely different story - which he learned the hard way after flunking something big for the company. they dont choose to fire him, no. instead, they put him through a trial, assigning him to sell their most unprofitable property : the mansion in a small town locally known for being haunted by an "evil spirit". if scarab manages to sell it (for good profit) within six months, he is excused and is able to go on with his job. if not... well, best not to think about it, yes? after all, he'll succeed with ease - all he has to do is dispel any worries about some fake "ghost" that only exists as a result of filthy rumors. maybe clean up the place. not too hard, right?

meanwhile, stuck inside said mansion is an extremely bored prismo. hes been hangin around this place for like... how many years now? forty? a hundred? meh, all the same, lately the place has been quieter than usual. i mean- of course people dont just walk into a creepy mansion every day, but there would usually be at least a few bold kids or vloggers coming in now and then for him to entertain but even then they wouldn't stay long ( for obvious reasons ). and now, just some unbound spirits or dumb animals would pass by and thats about it. a guy can only entertain himself for so long, yknow?

that is, until today. when some posh-looking business man entered the premises and started snooping around ( whats the deal with that, by the way?? ). must be prismo's lucky day!! this is the perfect chance to pull out all the stops and play the FUNNIEST prank ever! hah!

... oh. looks like things've gotten a little out of hand.

—

WOOT WOOT WOOTTTTTTTTTTT!!! im so so happy to finish this because ohhhhh my god this has taken ages for no reason other than the fact that ive been really dragging myself to make presentable art JSNDJSJXNSJX.... i realize that i have never worked in real estate ( or at all ) which means i have probably fucked something up but uhh um ill deal with the backlash later :"D im also realizing how many odd unanswered bits and bobs this au is going to have in the future, which... i am ignoring for the most part for now, but there are SOME things that i DO have figured out like ghost lore... but thats for another time, for now i leave you with this >:)

[jackiespurnell]

I cant think of anything different for Jackie as an ask but i would like to hear your take on her character. Maybe bless us with a character analysis???

ahhh okay!!! i have so many thoughts on her!!!! for starters, i wanna talk about why i think some ppl in the fandom hate her sm cause ive never seen anyone whos neutral on her tbh like either ur a jackie anti or a jackie stan theres no in between.

i see a lot of people using the fact that her only crime was being a teeanage girl as an argument to defend her and while i wholeheartedly believe that, i think that’s the exact reason why people dislike her. i think a natural instinct that viewers have when watching a show is to take the sides of the "heroes." people usually root for the people with the best moral code (which is why nat is so beloved, besides the fact that she's hot asf). but in a show based on survival, where morals for the most part go out the window the second everyone is stranded in the wilderness together, nobody cares if you're the realest or the more relatable. in fact, i think in a show that is based on things that are highly unlikely to happen/deals with topics outside of everyday things, you're more likely to prefer characters that aren't real. in stuff like yellowjackets, people want the batshit crazy ones. they want the cult leaders and the butchers and the psychopaths. its made very clear that jackie isnt any of these things. you dont go into a show about cannibalism and murder and survival and think of a character like jackie. 

she's not the typical final girl. shows like these make you want to root for actively seek final girls. so of course, most people aren't going to gravitate towards jackie. i think ive seen maybe two people aside from myself on tumblr who jackie is their number one character and theres a reason for that. shes simply not what most yellowjackets viewers are looking for.

also, shes just a girl trying to fit into society and doing a pretty damn good job at it, at least on the outside. i think that’s another part of the reason she has so many antis, because 99% of the people want to fit in one way or another but if you’re getting seen/treated as an outcast, of course you’re going to envy the cool, popular girl. it would be another story if she was bitchy and mean but the fact that she’s so nice probably bugs people too without them even realizing it. sorry, but it’s the truth - people hate girls who are pretty and kind. jackie is that.

now, im not saying she’s perfect whatsoever, she has several flaws, she can be super vain and demanding sometimes, and even bossy, although i do believe a lot of that comes from obliviousness and compulsory heterosexuality (which, i won’t get too into cause i feel like a lot of people have already talked about it).

now, for a character study i think her defining trait is her popularity which is insanely sad, but also, its true. you see that she only knows how to be a cool, popular high schooler and the second all that doesn’t matter anymore, she doesn’t know what to do with herself. there’s a mitski songs with the lyrics “if i gave up on being pretty i wouldn’t know how to be alive” and i think that describes her perfectly. in a time and society where everyone has a public and a private side, and i think spent so long crafting ‘public jackie’ that she forgot how to be ‘private jackie.’ she spent so long trying to be a pretty girl that she forgot how to be just a girl.

i also think a reason that she was so kind to misty - outside of her just being a kind person - is the fact that jackie saw herself in misty. while i don’t think jackie was ever unpopular, i don’t personally believe that was always as cool and charismatic and we see her in high school. i think she was always charming to a certain extent, but i truly think entering high school she went the extra mile to become beloved and popular. misty was trying to do the same thing as jackie, she was trying so hard, and as much as i love misty, she was failing. jackie felt bad for her because she knew, not so long ago, she was kind of similar to her. jackie was also trying too hard. i saw an ella purnell interview where she said that sometimes she (ella) forgot she was a person, instead of a brand and i believe jackie resonates with that. she forgot she was a person, not just a popular girl.

she forgot who she actually was outside the makeup and the smiles and the perfect girl persona so much so that when the plane crashed, she didn’t know how to be. because while the other girls slipped out of their public image, jackie didn’t know who she was outside of her public image.

it got so bad that i don’t even think shauna truly loved her. shauna, who just wanted what was best for her best friend. shauna, who never really wanted jackie to die. shauna never really loved her, because shauna never really knew her. we see loads of bunnies around adult shauna’s house, when in reality, we know jackie hated bunnies. even shauna only saw the idea of jackie that she showed people, and that’s not shauna’s fault by any means, but it just goes to show that jackie never really let anyone in.

i think the most tragic thing about jackie by far, is that, ultimately, she just wanted to be loved. and she thought that by putting on this whole facade of having her life together and being the cool, hot soccer captain, people would appreciate and love her. but she mistaked being loved for being admired. and, as sad as it is, i think jackie died without anybody truly loving the real her.

tysm for the ask @yourlocalsaiko

[smicksstuff]

heyy i’m here with another alejandro garnacho x sabrina carpenter face claim smau, if you’re taking requests🫶

could you just do a couple posts of him supporting him at his matches and him supporting her at her concerts please? thank you sm, love your writing!!

the remix | alejandro garnacho

pairing: alejandro garnacho x female!popstar

warnings: swearing

face claim: sabrina carpenter

summary: follow closely the lives of manchester united’s starboy and the queen of hearts. its never a boring day with them 😉

yn.ln

Singapore

liked by garnacho7, ybsf, taylorswift, and 1,693,627 others

yn.ln thank you singapore ! i will be back soon 💋

view comments

garnacho7 mi vida ❤️

yn.ln te quiero mi corazon ❤️

user1 6 nights arent enough !!! come back i want moree

ybsf never gonna doubt singapore again

yn.ln you best believe me next time

ybsf 🤞🏼

ana.pinho so proud of you mi nina ❤️

liked by yn.ln, brunofernandes8 and 890 others

rasmus.hoejlund when do i get tickets to your concert ?

yn.ln soon amigo

-

March 17th, 2024

yn.ln posted a new story

-

garnacho7

liked by yn.ln, marcusrashford10, amaddiallo and 986,772 others

garnacho7 its a day filled with big wins ❤️

view comments

yn.ln today has got to be the best day ever !! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ CMON UNITED !!!!!!

user my little scouse heart cannot handle it 😭 why does she have to be a united girlie

user streaming yn.ln to get over this heartbreak 💔

manchesterunited 💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽 great to have you back yn ❤️

lucialoi united duo are back 💋

yn.ln never getting rid of us that easy

rasmus.hoejlund @/yn.ln since you are backkkkkk…..

yn.ln patience my friend, just landed less than 24 hours ago

user ngl hoejlund asking for concert tixs with no shame is such a mood

user girl if your besties girl is yn.ln i’d shamelessly beg for tix too

user @/yn.ln new music sooon ?

-

yn.ln

liked by garnacho7, facupellistri, selenagomez and 1,377,829 others

yn.ln its good to be home 🏠❤️

view comments

garnacho7 never letting you leave again ! 😠❤️

rasmus.hoejlund get a room

kobbie there are kids on this app

user SHE IS IN THE STUDIO ! I REPEAT: SHE IS IN THE STUDIO

user pls im begging i want a teaser

user album listen party planning in the works! whos in ?

user ☝🏼

user ☝🏼

user everyone is excited about yn in the studio but im more interested why ale is dressed up so nice for the camera

user OMG IS HE IN THE MUSIC VIDEOS ?

user the delulu is strong now

-

April 21st, 2024

yn.ln

liked by garnacho7, ybsf, lukeshaw, marcusrashford10 and 902,727 others

yn.ln WEMBLEY BOUND ⚽️❤️

view comments

garnacho7 THATS HOW WE DO IT ❤️❤️❤️

manchesterunited ❤️⚽️💪🏽

jackgrealish see you in wembley

yn.ln you can bet on it

jackgrealish no matter how it goes still friends yeah

yn.ln 🤔🤔🤔 ill think about it

user not jack grealish in the comments

user to be fair the two of them have been friends for ages. not surprised

user jacko probably ensuring he still got friendship status at her concerts

-

May 26th, 2024

yn.ln

liked by garnacho7, masonmount, and 1,839,378 others

yn.ln manchester is forever red ❤️🏆

view comments

garnacho7 ❤️❤️❤️❤️

masonmount damn the pictures came out great! please send the rest !!

yn.ln yes sir sending now 🫡

masonmount totally forgot about the whole espresso incident

yn.ln 🤐🤐🤐

user what espresso incident??? i need to know

user awww to be yn

user best WAG ever

marcusrashford10 the photo quality is amazing! hiring you next time for photos 📸

yn.ln thanks rashy ! atleast if the singing doesnt work out i got my photo gig

marcusrashford10 “singing doesnt work out” fam you need a better reason, from what ive heard im never gonna be able to hire you 🙄

yn.ln since when did you become so sweet

marcusrashford10 always been short and sweet

liked by yn.ln and 890 others

user @/marcusrashford10 wdym “from what ive heard”

user has everyone at united heard the new album

rasmus.hoejlund 😏😏😏

user OMGGGG NO **** WAY

user YN RELEASE IT SOON! no way these footballers get to hear it before me !!!!!!!!!

-

May 27th, 2024

teamyn, yn.ln

liked by yn.ln, taylorswift, bensonboone, and 2,684,883

teamyn keep a lookout besties cause your girl yn is going back to wembley on June 16th !

🔗 in bio to secure your tickets for the Capital FM Summertime Ball.

ticket sales start 28 May 2024 @ 9am

view comments

rasmus.hoejlund please please please i want 2 tickets

yn.ln the day you dont get tickets is a day that will never come

rasmus.hoejlund @/garnacho7 your girl is the best

garnacho7 ofcourse i know that

garnacho7 finally get to see mi vida perform live !!! ❤️😆😁

yn.ln time for you to be the WAG now !!

garnacho7 im ready !! ive been waiting a long time for this

taylorswift you go girl !! so proud of you ❤️

yn.ln thank you taytay !!! ❤️

bensonboone we’re getting the band back together

yn.ln lets go rock wembleys socks off

-

June 16th, 2024

garnacho7

liked by yn.ln, masonmount, facupellistri and 1,399,637 others

garnacho7 thats MY girl !! ❤️ te quiero mi vida 💋

view comments

yn.ln thats MY boy ❤️ i love youuuu 💋💋💋

masonmount @/yn.ln more concert dates when 💳💸💰💳

marcusrashford10 you can take my money too

yn.ln calm down besties, just be patient

user something is cooking…. i just know it

user yn has changed the united boys

declanrice @/yn.ln after a banger like that, you better have more concert dates

yn.ln deccers you do realise when it happens you will be the first to know yeah

landonorris fancy performing at silverstone this year

yn.ln tempting offer 🤔 i might take you up on that lando

landonorris telling the organisers now

jackgrealish @/yn.ln that was one hell of a show ! you were amazing yn ! thank you for the tickets

yn.ln youre welcome jacko !! despite you being a bluey you will still get tickets

jackgrealish thats what i love to hear 🤍

-

June 17th, 2024

yn.ln posted a story

-

June 18th, 2024

yn.ln

liked by garnacho7, declanrice, landonorris and 3,637,727 others

yn.ln go stream please please please now !!

Short n’ Sweet album out 23 August 2024

🔗 in bio

view comments

garnacho7 FINALLY GET TO BLAST THIS IN THE CAR !!!!! ❤️

garnacho7 so proud of you mi vida ! cant wait for the full album to be released!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

yn.ln thank you mi corazon ❤️

user THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING

user its been on repeat all day

user MY QUEEN 👑👑👑

user GUYS!!! IT WAS RIGHT UNDER OUR NOSES THE WHOLE TIME

user wdym ??? what have i missed ??

user marcus mason and rasmus literally mentioned the album name and song titles in their comments

user it was all in plain sight

user they are f***g geniuses

user our queen spent too much time with taytay !

user these united boys know something 🤔

manchesterunited new song added to our playlist!! ❤️🎶

yn.ln you guys are too sweet

user GUYS THE MUSIC VIDEOOOOO

liked by user, yn.ln and 8,926 others

user my jaw is on the ground

user since WHENNNN

user i get the alejandro hype now. never did understand it but i do now

-

credits: all pictures are found from pinterest and instagram

a/n: sorry for the long wait!! thank you for reading this far!! If you have any one-shot scenarios send them to me!! I would love to try and recreate them for you ◡̈

[midnight---hollow]

Ok i need to yap for a second

I love how well written and thought out the ipc is in honkai star rail. I feel in general we dont always get the best discussions about capitalism and giant corps because said giant corps are usually sponsoring or are creating them most of the time so there is usually bias. I just saw some of the boothill story lore leaks and im not gonna talk about them here cus leaks but it gave me real big appreciation for how the ipc is handled.

Im personally a real big fan of complicated situations in my fictional stories. Ever since mob psycho ive gained a new lens of trying to find sympathy and reason for any situation, keeping my own opinions and preferences while still understanding the other side. I feel star rail has done a great job at show casing the many sides of the ipc even if i for one really dont like the ipc and its my least favorite organization

(I feel i should also say this is an opinion piece and im not informed enough on the real life issues as i would like to be. I just want to yap my opinion out and express why i find joy in this and maybe even come back later with more research to make another post but with references and proof to explain why besides what i remember and like. If i do get anything wrong then please inform me cus i would like to learn more about this and plan to)

|Spoilers for basically all the ipc related things in hsr|

I started out hating them cus i just dont like capitalist corps and they just rubbed me the wrong way. When the arum alley event happen i was originally pissed at it because even though it was confirming my beliefs of “big corp bad” it felt cheap and like almost every other story told by a big corp trying to tell us big corps are bad. Yknow the “look at this obviously in the wrong guy dont be like him, look at him get his comeuppances in the end and ignore how we actually are alot more complicated and worse than this super evil and obvious example”

arum alley then did something i didnt expect. It gave nuance to the story. It started out with that obvious example yes but the next one wasnt that obvious, the next part of the event talked about how some workers feel they wont be able to sustain their lives as independent workers and feel they need to work for the big corps for a safe job and it started getting into the logistics of big corp vs independent business. Yeah we where fighting them but there where reasons and concerns and fears to be given. It wasnt just big corp bad it was “yeah big corp bad but here is why and here is also how its good” and it brings up the questions on what can be done so we dont need to rely on big corp

Topaz and her whole arc is another situation i find interesting. Topaz is a character i dont care to much about to be honest but i think she plays a good role in this whole ipc debacle. To me she feels like she represents someone who used the system because they needed to and made it work and flourished in the system. Her planet was basically unlivable and she lived in a capitalist waste that failed. In comes the ipc and they are almost what her world was but better for they offer to help and save them. All they need to do is sign their lives away to join the ipc and they did and their planet flourished because of it. Topaz herself was able to rise the ranks into being a cornerstone. I think her story shows both the light and dark of the ipc because they saved her planet but they only did it because it benefited them, if they didnt sign their lives away it is very likely topaz and everyone on her planet would have suffocated from the toxins and died. They had no choice but to join the system and its stated in game that topaz’s planet is one of the few that where able to be saved.

That’s probably what i like most about the playable ipc characters, it reminds us that these big corps arent just mustache twirling bad guys, it reminds us there are people there just trying to keep going and some of them are genuinely trying to do right and think what they are doing is right. Again topaz for example, she genuinely believes what she was doing was for the good of belabog. She saw a planet so similar to her own and i think she did what she thought was right and tried to help them (i dont think what she did was right but i can see where she comes from in thinking its right) i also think its showing that when she learned their was a way out for belabog that allowed them to not give their lives away to the ipc she gave in and stopped trying to convince them. She risked her own job security to allow them that right and because she didnt force an entire planet of innocent people who just got out of a horrible situation to sign their souls away (including the children mind you) she got demoted. Im not saying that she deserves a pat on the back for doing the bare minimum esp after she tried killing us, she is a rich, a conerstone, owns an exotic pet that she throws into battle and design her gun after, is a high member of said capitalist big corps, im just saying this is a very nuanced and interesting situation that i like to think about because there are so many thoughts and arguments

The whole belabog vs ipc thing was interesting in general for me because i think it was just such a good concept to bring forth the conversation of the goods and bads of big corps. Technically the ipc does have the right to want their century old debt repaid (ignoring the fact we later learned the robots where never used i think idk the end was confusing ngl) yet also at the same time we as people have a hard time siding with them when belabog didnt even know they where in debt because they where so isolated because of the stellaron and they just got out of the stellaron crisis and are trying to make their world habitable and yknow survive. We cant blame them for being unable to pay a humongous debt when these where the same people who stood in awe as march shower them a photo of their planet that she took while on the express. It creates a situation where yeah technically the giant corp has a right to take that money because its theirs but its still feels so cruel to make them have to cough it up right now with only a few days time. Belabog is basically forced to sign that deal because there is no way they could have payed that off they where doomed the moment topaz set foot on the planet. I remember talking to each of the people in belabog and getting their opinions on the matter and constantly having to rethink my stance because there where so many good points for why they should and so many for why they shouldnt. I can go on and on about this but this bit is already to long.

Aventurine!!! Aventurine aventurine oh where to start. Unlike topaz i actually like aventurine alot he is just such a well written character but we arent here to talk about how amazing him and the games writing is we are here to talk about the capitalist cooperation he is a cog in. Aventurine in a sense has a similar story to topaz but its more cruel and less happy. The ipc didnt save him, the ipc what going to arrest him and its thanks to his luck and a deal with the devil (or in this case a bet with a snake) that he was able to become aventurine.

I havent seen the writen stuff for him in his characters story because i dont have him but i will say from what i saw during the main story, something i question alot is what the ipc did during the avgin genocide. This might be a small tangent but the avgins said they had the support of the ipc. What happened that caused for the entire avgin civilization to be wiped out when they had the help of people with better weapons and armor and equipment. Apart of me is nihilistic enough to think the ipc didnt really care for saving the avgins and might have used the katakans attack as a way to know out the two groups that where causing them the most trouble but at the moment i dont know if theres anything supporting this theory so its just a crack theory

Aventurines spot in penacony is again interesting. Penacony is a prison planet of the ipc, that was taken over and turned into a party paradise thanks to the hamrony, family, and a stellaron. Aventurines goal was supposed to be to put penacony back in the ipcs control and to be honest i cant tell if thats his plan or not because of how crazy and confusing the story was (i loved it) but that being said it is another example how how grey ipc is. It isnt just a big bad corp there are people with lives and in avens case, people trying to gain their freedom with any risks necessary. I also think again the ipcs role in penacony is like belabog, very interesting, just for different reasons.

Penacony is based off America and in this case im assuming the ipc is their Britain. I feel like if you ask most people they would say that the ipc is the only group in penacony they hope fails (minus aventurine again i feel everyone wants aven to succeed even if we want ipc to fall) but i think the family being as grey as they are (basically a cult and also a representation of newer day amarica and its “its us or them” mentality in a way. I can make another yap ses about that lmao) adds an air of mystery and confusion on who we want to succeed since they are on two very different sides of the board so if one wins the other loses. It makes it feel like a fight of two big corps against each other and not really knowing who to support. Do you want to support the capitalist or the cult, pick your poison. We need the rest of penacony for me to go more in-depth on my opinion of ipc here and to rant but i can say its already making me question and argue both sides with what we have seen so far

That was fun for me. I havent ranted on tumblr in a long long time but hsr has been my recent hyperfixation and again boothill makes me crazy. While writing this is made me start to think about how much i wanted to talk about the hidden story of immigration i feel penacony is aso trying to tell. I think penacony is handling so many deep and interesting topics and im very excited for the next update. This has made me hyped to talk about the immigration stuff but i want to do reaserch and gain a proper strong stance besides “thats just my opinion.” I think this is an interesting topic and yapping about it made me want to do more reaserch on the topics of capitalism and big corps cus i hate them but i also think its important to know about it and understand there is more to the issue than just stingy old white rich people. I havent even gotten to jade yet. When we learn more about her imma have some words prob

Srry this was long but anyways cant wait till boothill comes out so i can get him and his light cone

[crazylittlejester]

What is one head canon you have for every individual member of the chain?

only one headcanon for each of them? 🥺

Time: I’ve definitely said this one before, but he is not at all trying to be fatherly. He does care about the boys a lot, but his fatherly actions are all completely unintentional, he has no idea some of them look up to him like a dad, and he has yet to realize he looks at some of them as his kids. In his mind he’s just being kind and brotherly. He has a hard time expressing emotions and seriously struggles with facial expressions, which is why he comes off as so hard to approach and seems more responsible and dad like, but that’s not the case at all. He’s just as chaotic as the others and seriously is oblivious to how some of them look up to him

Warriors: I headcanon he comes from a family of tailors (which is a headcanon ive seen before) who own a small shop in the little village he comes from (he’s not originally a city boy to me, he became a city boy later in life). His family also owns a small farm and he had big dogs growing up. Had the war never happened he’d probably still be with them, taking over his mom’s shop because he was the one most interested in it (i also headcanon he has a lot of siblings)

Twilight: He needs people to take care of or he won’t take care of himself. He just falls into such a slump if there’s no one for him to look after because he feels useless and unneeded. He’s a serious hoverer when one of the others are injured but he feels bad for hovering so he ends up sitting on the opposite side of camp looking like a wet dog and it’s just so sad looking 😭

Sky: I know a lot of people make him super sleepy or give him asthma because of his low stamina in Skyward Sword and also because he just always seems tired in that game, but for me Sky has epilepsy, and that’s why he has periods of time where he’s just absolutely exhausted

Hyrule: Not afraid of much and has a stomach of steel. This kid will eat anything and everything and will be completely fine. Bonus extra headcanon: I think he’s older than Legend

Legend: I headcanon he’s autistic and struggles to control the tone of his voice, and that’s why he can come off pretty harsh. He doesn’t mean to, he’s seriously pretty chill (unless Warriors is involved), but he can come off as disinterested or snappy when he really doesn’t mean to

Wild: Actually extremely good at handling his emotions and dealing with problems (compared to the others). He knows he gets overwhelmed and while he’s not the best at telling someone where he goes to blow off steam, he knows how to hold himself back and handle himself, and he’s perfectly capable of defending himself if something happens when he goes off alone. Sometimes he just needs to be alone, and if he really CANT be alone because it’s too dangerous, Wolfie will trail after him just for backup and keep his distance

Four: BIG reader, he loves to curl up with a good book but it’s hard for him to get his alone time to focus on what he’s reading while he’s traveling with the others. He will make up stories in his head when he can’t sleep or actually focus, and he’s a really animated story teller. He’s told a lot of campfire stories and when he’s doing those it’s one of the very few times the others actually shut up

Wind: Dyslexic and seriously struggles to read, but he absolutely LOVES to draw and would doodle all the time during any lessons anyone tried to give him ever. Give this kid a sketchbook and he’ll literally draw you a masterpiece. He loves sketching scenery and the others and he’s FREAKY good at it

[sieglinde-freud]

Fire emblem (awakening, + fates if you want to do two fandoms) for the ask game NOWWWWW <3

oh i would love to do two fandoms :3 awakening first, super long post incoming!!

favorite character

well it really is a toss up and the answer might shock you all but really i—

… well anyways

least favorite character

umm honestly i really like everyone in the awakening cast? i dont think theres too many stinkers or anyone that makes me feel super uncomfortable. i think i’ll say yen’fay though? not because i dislike him exactly, i just dont really understand why hes here… of all the options for spotpass they went with yen’fay???? okay… like thats fine i guess

five favorite ships

LUCISEV

gerolau

lonqu/vaike

chromlivia

tharja/maribelle

i love you gay awakening mod you make my dreams come true!!!

character i find most attractive

… sigh. just look at my blog and guess. its embarrassing it really is.

character i would marry

STAHL 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 can and have. every time

character i would be best friends with

i would love to be besties with severa irl. i need more shopping buddies!!

a random thought

please bring back awakening forging it was so easy and it was so funny

an unpopular opinion

i think the valm arc is fine. its not my favorite by any means but i think it has a purpose and does it well. its really more for furthering chrom as a character rather than pushing the main story further and thats. fine! its not the nothingburger people claim it to be, even if its maybe not the most fun.

most badass character

like objectively its lucina and any other character is wrong sorry

pairing i am not a fan of

honestly when it comes to awakening, i like most ships? i mean obviously i have my own preferences but most things people put in front of me i will eat up!! i’ll say im not too big on lucina and inigo just because i do chromlivia a ton and so that sours that for me, but ive been becoming more open to it as i keep experimenting with different parents for them :) its still not my FAVORITE but you know. its cool. and its like that was probably my least favorite for a while but i still never HATED it. like i get it you know. (also inigo/owain never applied to this i fear. awakening trio poly was too good) i think something that ive actually slowly gotten distasteful for over time is ricken/nowi and it sucks because i think their support chain is actually SO cute but the first time i got their ending card it made me so uncomfortable and so upset its kind of made me not like them as much anymore :( which SUCKS bc i could ignore the end card SO EASILY but idk. the things that give you an ick on ur first run really stay with you. OH YOU KNOW WHAT i dont like lucina/robin sorry

character i feel the writers screwed up

can i say chrom? i think chrom has a lot of good going for him, but i think somewhere along the way they got kind of caught up in the epic story of war and time travel and robin being grima that they forgot they had a main character already. they kinda started his path in the first arc, gave it SOME direction in the second, and then… oh god! where did it go?! i just had it a second ago! not only do they not really finish off chrom’s story that well because the focus turns more to robin, i also dont think they explore his flaws well enough? he clearly HAS them, hes aggressive and hot headed and naive (“naive” does it count if he knows hes being naive and just says fuck it idgaf) and thats great but i dont feel like he ever learns from that. i think emmeryn dying couldve led him down a darker path for a while (not TOO dark, but its important to note that chrom is kind of. uh. erm. well the treatment of plegians and the valmese is. ah. um. well anyways an arc that makes THAT make more sense) until maybe like robin or lucina help him snap out of it and he looks back to what emmeryn might have done in his place, and what he can do to still stay true to himself but learn to honor her the way she might have wanted instead of becoming more like his dad (another plot point unexplored!) so. ANYWAYS thats my two cents on chrom as someone who GENUINELY REALLY LIKES HIM. i just think he couldve been better.

favorite friendship

i’ll say i like them as yaoi too but the bromance between inigo and owain will ALWAYS be soooooo good. SOOOOO GOOD. AGRGGRHRHFNJRJFJEHRH THEIR HARVEST CONVERSATIONNN THEIR FUTURE PAST INTERACTIONS GRARRGFHHH MY BABIESSSS

ok onto fates!!

favorite character

like we know. but if you mean fates EXCLUSIVE its charlotte :)

least favorite character

i dont care for yukimura

5 favorite ships

LASLOW/NYX ARRGGEHEHHEH

odin/azura

niles/subaki

f!corrin/felicia

awakening trio poly

honorable mention to laslow/keaton/nyx as well

character i find most attractive

SORRY LASLOW YOU GOT KNOCKED DOWN A PEG ITS REINA I LOVE MY MURDER WIFE!!!!!!

character i would marry

i would marry kaze in a heartbeat. only question is would he marry me 😓 also charlotte but again. i find myself at the same dilemma. I HAVE NO MONEY!!!!!

character i would be best friends with

its still selena but now we get to add oboro to the mix and have fun fashion time!!!

a random thought

im still thinking about nyx rejecting garon’s summons. its so sexy. why did u do that girl. what did he want from you. im rotating advisor nyx au in my mind as we speak. will anything come of it? probably not. and if something does it probably wont leave my google docs but. we’ll see. NYX FANS DM ME I LVOE YUO

my canon otp

well?? uhhh?? i mean everything is canon in some way shape or form, no? so. laslow/nyx COME ONNNN

non canon otp

like. its still laslow/nyx. ship so good its both canon and non canon (every fates ship)

most badass character

saizo. guy who blows himself up for shits and giggles. god i love him

pairing im not a fan of

dont hate me yall i really cant stand laslow and azura. and its not even like because the support is bad, its NOT. its really good. i tried so hard to like it. but every single fucking time, and this has been going on for YEARS before i had this tumblr account, anytime i mention any other azura ship or any other laslow ship, someone has to come and tell me “oh i dont like this ship. this but l*zura” ?!?!?!?!?! OKAY??? MAKE YOUR OWN POST?!?!?!?!? i’ll be like “hey i really like azura’s dynamic with [character]” and someone will be like “ohhh this but with laslow” WHO SAID HIS NAME?!!?! WHO?!??? NOT ME!!! do you know how annoyed i have to be to NOT want to talk about laslow?!?!?! ME???? THE LASLOW BLOG!!???!?! i’ll be like “i really like peri!soleil i think shes cute” someone will come on my post and say “yeah but i always do azura!soleil so” OKAY SO WHAT. SO WHAT. GET OUT OF MY REPLIES GET OUT OF MY TAGS. I DONT CARE. AND ITS ALWAYS THAT SHIP. GOD!! FUCK!! I DONT CAREEEEEEEE. god forbid i bring up laslow/nyx. yes. bring up ur insanely popular ship on a post about a ship where im the only one doing it. uh huh. this is not annoying in the slightest. yep ok. thanks. your input is noted and also discarded. MAKE YOUR OWN POST. its all just really soured me to the ship… i started deleting some of my own posts it happens to like its exhausting!!! GO AWAY!! im also not fw corrin/the royals but i dont judge anyone who is its just not my thing :3

character i feel the writers screwed up

selena, and not in a “shes badly written” way. i dont think she is! i actually really like her arc of maturing past who she was in awakening and finally finding a place/group of people who wont compare her to her mom and trying to stand out on her own merits now that she has that opportunity. thats fantastic! i just wish they didnt try to push the weird subaki and caeldori stuff. i feel like that just ties her back to her mom and kind of resets the whole thing? i made another post about it but… just that. it bothers me. it also drags down caeldori as a character by reducing her to a prop for selena to bounce off of. bad all around. they shouldve made selena an exception to the rule and gave her her own kid instead of forcing you to do some random ship to finish her arc off, especially when laslow and odin both got to further their own characters with their kids. just kinda sucks!!

favorite friendship

awakening trio duh. didnt include severa in awakening just because. it wasnt. really a thing in awakening. inigo and owain were just bro-ing off while severa was mostly paired with like cynthia or sometimes lucina in dlc. but in fates they finally get trio interactions and it really just solidifies the whole dynamic for me :) i like em poly i like em queer platonic i like em third wheeling i like em friends i just LIKE THEM. THEY ARE PERFECT!!!

[steelycunt]

hiiiii…. do you have any book recommendations? i think we have similar taste :)

hi! yeah! i definitely have some recs, although they’ll all be books i’ve talked about on here before so they probably won’t be very new for anyone who’s been following me for a while 😭 not sure what you’re after specifically but this is just everything i’ve enjoyed! anything with as asterisk is a special favourite : ^ )

books ive read this year:

(fiction)

boulder* - eva baltasar: very short read but baltasar’s prose is 2 die for! second in a trilogy but im pretty sure they can all be read as standalones. also nice to see fiction that treats lesbians as seriously as piles and piles of arty litfic treat gay men rather than the clipart cover of two women with a title like ‘Jemima Mulligan Is So Done 🤣’ that comes up when you search lesbian fiction now.

all quiet on the western front* (+ the way back/the road back) - erich maria remarque: only classic im going to mention (i could talk about james baldwin all day) but this is my favourite book i’ve read this year! and my only five star fiction read so far this year. absolutely heartbreaking!! and if you enjoy it i would say it’s worth reading the sequel, the way back.

hangman - maya binyam: read this recently and honestly think it’s quite a marmite book i think you’ll either enjoy the absurdity of it or find it deeply irritating almost straight away but. i thought it was wonderfully disorientating + not too long that the style started to grate on me + an great postcolonial work

we need to talk about kevin* - lionel shriver: such a terrifyingly good book omg. prose is a bit dense which at least i found a bit daunting at first but it’s soo intricate and absorbing and horrific.

penance* (+ boy parts) - eliza clark: was honestly a bit surprised to like this as much as i did my expectations were pretty low but i thought it was a genuinely excellent depiction of modern teenagers + the way they use social media (i have never seen it done so well) + the intricacies of the dynamics between young girls against the backdrop of ‘true’ crime. if you like it you’ll probably also enjoy boy parts so i recommend that too!

antarctica + walk the blue fields - claire keegan: keegan is imo one of the best storytellers writing today and these two short story collections by her were wonderful this year! my favourite of her work is foster but since there are multiple stories in these collections id say they’re the best place to start!

my work - olga ravn: quite experimental in terms of style there’s a lot of prose spliced with prose which i wasn’t sure would be for me (im an idiot) but i thought it was a really fascinating look at motherhood + creation + post-partum depression!

(non-fiction)

dont actually have a ton of non-fiction books 2 mention just adding this category in to recommend empire of pain* - patrick radden keefe as a book i finished recently and one of if not the best non-fiction book ive ever read. just so incredibly interesting i can’t stress enough

some quickfire books i read last year/year before!

duck feet - ely percy

juno loves legs - karl geary

archive of alternate endings* - lindsey drager

shuggie bain* + young mungo* - douglas stuart

my brilliant friend* - elena ferrante

the secret history + the goldfinch - donna tartt

mr loverman - bernadine evaristo (SAINT LUCIA MENTIONED 🇱🇨)

the marriage portrait - maggie o’farrell

the passion - jeanette winterson

[dragon-queen21]

hello!!!! its been so long i apologize so ☹️ ive been fighting demons and going through story book worthy horrors, but its all okay!!!!

but for 📷 anons surprising comeback,

hear me out, its one piece time woah, little ace with the whitebeards. that kid would totally hid his regression for as long as he could, especially during the time before ace joined the crew. only to be found out either via a meltdown, or very shortly after he officially joined due to a slip up.

real nap time kid. a nap time is always inevitable with ace, whether it be because his narcolepsy or marco trying to push one because ace is getting wayy to fussy for this busy crew.

i also have the headcanon that his devil fruit is just out of control this boy is setting everything on fire, unlucky for the crew because, yknow, they live on a wooden ship.

i feel like hes has a pretty large range of ages he can regress too but normally stays pretty small. 1-3 maybe? definitely kinda kid to insist he can do everything by himself but then melts and gives up the moment hes shown some positive affection. give him a pacifier when its clear he wants one? so over for him. one of the chefs giving him a spill proof cup? knockout. pick him up when hes too small to properly walk himself? hes ran out of lives.

ouh the imagery of someone like marco or thatch holding a very very sleepy ace and ace having his fingers in his mouth and just the other person taking them out of his mouth and replacing them with a pacifier and everyones like woah! howd u do that without him having a tantrum and the person holding him is just like oh im just that good ig IM CRYING INYO MY PILLOW hes actually just a baby i cant even handle it

THE CREW CALLING BABY ACE LITTLE FLAME EVERY BODY SHUT UP AND LET ME COOK

i feel like ace id definitely a fussy baby though especially when he regresses older, ace has a lot of childhood trauma its bound to reflect in his behavior while regressed☹️☹️

okay im done brfore i make this longer than it already is, i hope you enjoy!! ive missed doin this so much omg☹️

📷

I was actually just thinking of you recently! It’s nice to hear from you. Though it’s not so nice to hear that you have been going through such a hard time. As someone who just got over a very hard couple of months I understand completely. Sending you a hug and I will pray in the name of Jesus for your strength and peace. If you ever want to reach out and dm me to vent or talk you can. No pressure of course <3

~~~

Okay one piece time hehe :3

~My vote is 100% for being found out due to a meltdown. Mostly because I like angst hehe >:3

“You need a nap!” “I do not.” “Well just come lay down for a moment. If you don’t fall asleep then you can get back up… Ace?” (Ace meanwhile already asleep)

“because, yknow, they live on a wooden ship.”

<- Pfft okay that made me laugh

~It’s like letting a child play with matches only you can’t take them away.

~Coping mechanism for Ace/ anxiety inducing for everyone else on board

~Oh no but why did I just think of the saddest thing ever is getting really frustrated and one of his stuffed animals or toys catches on fire. He would be devastated and probably hate himself for a long while.

“insist he can do everything by himself but then melts and gives up the moment hes shown some positive affection”

<- Awww that’s so cute!!

~Grumpiest affection starved baby. Insisting that he’s a lot older than he really is and it only takes a time bit of patience and coddling to get him to regress super small.

Marco: Yup I’m just the best caregiver ever isn’t that right bud? Ace meanwhile: (sleepy baby babbles)

~Sometimes he’s super small and he just cries and no one know how to comfort him because nothing seems to be wrong he’s just fussy and flinches away from people and overall is just miserable

Read these first while regressed and this absolutely made little me giddy. Thank you for sharing beloved I’ve missed getting to read all your thoughts <3

[1d1195]

Neighbors Extra IV - Merry Christmas

Read Neighbors here

I wanted to write something for the holidays and they seemed like a worthy couple to do so. I will get back to Dolcezza over the next few days and I'm sorry my posting schedule is off now. I will get that back on track too.

Warnings: fluff, cuteness, Christmassy nonsense (maybe a little angst if you read it the right way)

This isn't super proofread. I'm not sure how my timeline is matching up with the rest of the story but this is their first Xmas together as a couple. Probably before the other Extras I've written but I'm not sure time is really relevant.

~3.1k words

Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.

“I hope Santa gets everything on my list,” Rory giggled. Harry watched as the wonderful woman helped Rory write out his list. She wrote out each item carefully, committing it to memory. He signed his name in his large six-year-old print. Once the list was decorated with stickers and glitter (and an extra drawing of the North Pole was slipped in the envelope), she stole a picture of it for her own use and memories. The three of them headed to the store to put the envelope in the North Pole mailbox and get some shopping done.

Harry smiled lazily. This was better than any Christmas he could imagine with his little family—and it had hardly started. He gazed longingly at the love of his life as she meandered down the aisles getting presents for her family, Harry’s family, coworkers, and anyone else she could think of before she would have to find a time to get all those items on Rory’s list. “Think y’ve been pretty good, lad,” Harry smiled. “Don’t you?”

He nodded. “I’ve eaten all my vegetables this year. Even the gross ones,” he wrinkled his nose distastefully. It was the same way she did it which made his heart flutter at the sight. Rory was so much like his mum it hurt in the best way.

Harry chuckled. “Mummy and I appreciate that. S’good for you,” he reminded him.

“Can you help me get Mumma a present?” Rory whispered. He wasn’t very good at it. She turned a bit toward the sound of his little voice ever so slightly. A smirk on her face that Harry didn’t miss. He ignored her attention so he could focus on Rory’s inquiry with hope that maybe the pair of them could surprise her.

As usual, she was very smart and did a lot of her Christmas shopping early in the season—almost as soon as the decorations for Halloween came down, she was out at the store buying gifts.

“Course, lad. What do y’want t’get her?”

“A racecar. So she can play with me,” he explained. It wasn’t a question in Rory’s mind. It was the most obvious choice of gift.

Harry chuckled. “I see. Do y’think Mummy has asked Santa for something else we could get her? Something a little more girly?”

By now she had rounded the corner to the next aisle. Harry and Rory had veered off to look at the racecars. “Mumma doesn’t get presents from Santa,” he shrugged heading to the section of toys that he deemed worthy of Mummy.

Harry frowned at how readily that came from Rory. “Oh? She on the naughty list?” He joked. But he would tease her about that later when they fell asleep. Right as they fell asleep.

Rory giggled. “Mumma isn’t naughty, Harry,” he rolled his eyes.

No. She wasn’t. She was the furthest thing from it. She was perfect. An angel. It was...the best thing that had ever happened to Harry—moving in across the street from someone so lovely. “Then how come she doesn’t get any gifts from Santa?” He was joking of course. Surely there would be a little white lie of how Santa left them at the North Pole or there was a promise of next year there would be double the amount for Mumma.

But he hadn’t anticipated Rory’s response. “Mumma said that she called Santa when I was born. She doesn’t want presents so I can have more. Mumma says that even his magic sleigh has a weight limit.”

Harry thought his heart might break. This was the third Christmas that Rory probably understood. His developmental psychology classes told him that age four is usually when kids start to get the gist of what Christmas is like for them. That meant for the time that they knew one another, she hadn’t gotten Christmas gifts from “Santa.”

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise to him. What else was she supposed to say to Rory? There wasn’t anyone to balance the gifts out so that she had something to open while Rory got new toys and clothes. Harry tried to think of what he got her over the last couple years. It wasn’t anything special because he couldn’t remember.

She was selfless, of course. Especially for Rory. It honestly made him fall more in love with her. Made him want to cry something awful as well. Harry wondered if she minded. Surely everyone in her life showered Rory with presents. He hoped that her family spoiled her just as much.

But he had a sneaking suspicion that wasn’t the case.

“Boys, are we ready to go get some hot chocolate and start decorating?” She called.

Rory quickly handed over the racecar he wanted to get her and pushed it behind Harry’s legs where he could reach to hide it from Mumma. The pair of them smiled like they had just stolen a cookie from the kitchen after she said no. She smirked and met Harry’s gaze with a twinkle in her eyes, herself. “Yes, Mumma,” Rory said hurried to her side. He turned and put a finger to his lips toward Harry. So, he would keep the present a secret. He winked at the little one and caught her gaze once more so he could wink at her too. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention forward toward the checkout.

*

Don’t forget to invite Gemma and your Mum, please.

Harry smiled at his message as he and Gemma walked the aisles of the beauty store. Harry wanted to get her everything her heart desired and more, but wanted to make sure it was right—that required reinforcements.

“Does she use a face roller?”

“A what?”

“Jesus Christ, Harry,” she sighed in exasperation. She threw one in the basket.

“I don’t know, Gem. I don’t think she has a skincare routine. She’s usually making sure Rory gets a bath and goes t’bed.”

Gemma didn’t like that response. “Then we’re going to get her a spa day too after this,” she explained. “And you need to make sure she takes some time to herself every night,” she said knowingly. Harry nodded. He didn’t care about how many stores they were going to. He wanted this to be the Christmas of her dreams and more. He would get her anything and everything. Cost wasn’t a problem. And he was going to make sure she spent an hour to herself every night for the rest of their lives. “Does she ever complain of dry skin? Or that she looks oily?”

“No...” he shrugged again. Maybe he wasn’t paying as close attention as he thought he was to her self-care.

“Does she ever do anything for herself, Harry? Or do you just let her do everything?”

“Gemma. She is a selfless person. S’impossible t’do anything for her,” he resented the idea that he wasn’t doing a good job as her boyfriend. But Gemma wasn’t wrong. It sounded like he was doing a bad job.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” she nodded in agreement. “Mum is getting her all sorts of clothes for us to split up and give to her,” she tossed three different serums into the little basket. “She wears makeup, right?”

Harry never thought she needed it, but he couldn’t help but be hypnotized by the way she glided the various liquids and powders over her face each morning. She did it quickly—with a six-year-old everything had to be done quickly. But it was like watching an artist as she put stuff on her face and turned even more beautiful than she was without it.

“Yes,” he said confidently feeling like he finally was contributing to this whole escapade.

“Does her stuff look old? Has she ever said anything about getting new makeup?”

He thought about all the brushes and tubes she used each morning. Harry thought all of them looked on the older side. “What’s the one y’dot on y’face? Under y’eyes?”

“Concealer.”

“She said they discontinued the brand, so she keeps putting water in hers.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s sad,” Gemma remarked. “Alright, I’ll get her the kind I liked. She can always return it. Give me your phone.”

Harry handed it over immediately. Gemma examined the picture of the pair of them in his background. A selfie from the symphony. Harry felt himself warm at the sight of her even on his own screen that he looked at no less than thirty times a day. While Gemma did her best to match her skin tone, Harry simply admired how pretty she looked and how even just her picture made him feel an overwhelming amount of love for his little life.

“It’s hard to tell in pictures, but she’s tanner than I am; lucky bitch,” Gemma grumbled. Harry smirked.

“Do you want anything for Christmas?” He asked his sister.

Gemma snorted. “She’s already way ahead of you, Harry,” Gemma smiled. “You’re about a month too late.”

He chuckled shyly. “Sorry, Gem.”

“It’s okay. It’s... really nice you have someone so thoughtful. As thoughtful as you. Maybe even more so just because she does it so early. But... I wouldn’t want you to be with someone less thoughtful. So it’s nice.” Harry agreed fully and smiled even brighter knowing that his sister loved his choice in love as much as he did. “Alright. We’re meeting Mum for lunch and then we are going to the home goods store for stuff she might need around the house... what are you doing about her stocking?”

“Doesn’t some of this stuff go in there?”

“Yeah... but like... you could get her jewelry or something.”

Harry nodded. “Okay... I’ll do that on my own.”

“Harry,” Gemma smiled at her little brother—even though he was a good seven inches taller. “You’re doing great. This is...” she sighed happily. “She’s going to love it.”

Harry felt a sense of pride wash over him even though his cheeks warmed at the praise. He really hoped she would.

*

“Harry?” She whispered in the middle of the night. They had spent an hour setting up Rory’s new roller coaster track after she finished wrapping a few last-minute gifts and pulling the presents from various hiding places—the shed in the backyard, the back of her car, and of course across the street at Harry’s house that had hardly seen anything else Christmas related since he spent all his time with her and Rory.

“Jus’ getting some water, kitten. Go back t’sleep,” he leaned down to kiss her forehead. She didn’t need to be told twice. Her light snores started almost instantly, which boded well for Harry. All her presents were in the back of his car. The transfer had been done late in the day by Gemma while the three of them went to the Christmas Eve fair put on by the local high school. They drank more hot chocolate than Rory could dream about. She worried the sugar would keep him up and prevent them from putting the presents under the tree.

Harry found Rory at the top of the stairs. A ribbon and sign across the way telling Rory not to go down without Mumma and Harry. He was asleep on the floor. A pillow from his room and covered with the blanket she and Rory made one rainy afternoon in November. She helped cut all the little ends while he did his best to tie them together.

Harry smirked and lifted Rory from the floor to bring him back to his bed. “Harry?” Rory murmured.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Did Santa come?” He yawned.

“Santa won’t come if y’aren’t in y’bed, lad,” he reminded him.

“I wanted to ask him to give Mumma some of my presents,” he muttered sleepily.

Harry felt his heart warm. “I’ll go write him a note,” he placed Rory on his little mattress, tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and ruffled his hair. “Don’t get out of bed, till morning, Rory. Or Santa won’t come,” he reminded him.

But Rory was already asleep.

*

“Mumma!” Rory’s little voice gasped. Harry’s eyes fluttered open to meet her sleeping figure. Her lips parted as she breathed. Harry reached out and put a hand on her face.

“Hey, beautiful,” Harry whispered and inched forward to place a kiss on her forehead. “S’time t’get up,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas,” he leaned closer to kiss the shell of her ear as he spoke softly to her. Meanwhile, Harry could hear Rory bouncing up and down the little hallway between their rooms and the stairs chanting that it was Christmas and Santa came.

Her lashes fluttered as she woke up, meeting Harry’s beautiful green eyes. “Harry, Santa came!”

He winked at her as she rubbed her eye tiredly. “Yeah, lad?” He smiled at the excitement. “Y’didn’t go down, did you?”

“No way, Jose!”

Harry chuckled. “D’you want t’come give Mummy a Christmas hug?” He asked.

There was a shift in weight on the bed as Rory’s little body flung himself in between the pair of them. “Merry Christmas Mumma,” he giggled and snuggled up to her. She smiled, burying her face in his hair, and squeezing him to her.

“Merry Christmas, love bug,” she sighed sleepily but very content.

“Can we go downstairs?” He was trying to wriggle free.

“I have to brush my teeth and we’ll go right down,” she promised and threw the covers back. “Maybe you should give Harry a Christmas tickle,” she suggested as she left the bed and Rory took her word and tickled Harry well enough to make him squirm and giggle himself.

“You’ll pay for that,” he kissed the side of her face as she exited the bathroom so Harry could brush his teeth too.

Rory was now bouncing with excitement, and she smiled sitting back on the bed while they waited for Harry. “What do you think Santa brought you?” She asked.

“I hope he brought me the roller coaster,” he crossed his fingers on both hands to show her and she mimicked the gesture while Harry returned as quickly as possible.

“Alrighty, I think we can go down now,” she smiled.

Harry grinned and followed behind the two of them. Rory was squealing and laughing as he reached the bottom of the stairs before they did. He hurried to the rollercoaster set and sent the little cart flying down the track while she tilted her head at the pile of presents that seemed to increase in size by at least a half.

“Did you get him more?” She muttered under her breath.

“Mumma!” Rory shouted. “Harry wrote Santa a note for me last night! Santa brought you some presents this year.”

She seemed to freeze in place and Harry put a hand on her lower back. “C’mon, kitten. S’Christmas,” he kissed the top of her head and nudged her toward the sofa so she could sit.

“H-he did, huh?” She looked overwhelmed at the pile of neatly wrapped presents with her name on them. Most were labeled from Santa. A few from Harry and one from Rory—the racecar of course.

“We start with the stockings,” Rory explained to Harry grabbing the one with an H on it and handing it to him. It was filled with little trinkets and items that she painstakingly tied with ribbons and candies that he would undoubtedly end up sharing with Rory until their stomachs hurt.

“Oh...I had a chat with Santa last night,” he recalled sitting beside the poor thing that was struggling to make sense of all the items under their overly decorated tree. “Santa agreed that I could do Mummy’s stocking from now on,” he told Rory.

“Mumma, Harry knows Santa too!” The poor thing was having a meltdown on the inside of her mind. It was clear on her face as she tried to factor in the price of all the presents that were tied nicely with bows and ribbons. Rory handed off her stocking as well and was lucky she didn’t drop it immediately. Lucky that Harry was sitting right beside her to hold it while he placed his beside him. Rory sat himself on the floor with the stocking between his legs. “Can I start?”

She was mute it seemed as she examined all the little items poking out of the top of the oversize sock. “Go ahead, lad,” Harry encouraged and squeezed her thigh. “You too, kitten,” he murmured into her ear.

“You...” she whispered breathlessly, cleared her throat and Harry saw the well of tears filling her eyes. “Santa brought me a lot of stuff,” she murmured while Rory oohed and ahhed over the little things filling his stocking.

“He told me that y’never have t’sacrifice Christmas on behalf of Rory anymore. That was really nice of you t’do it the last few years. But...he wants you t’get whatever y’ever want,” he cupped her cheek while Rory ripped open his bag of M&Ms spilling tens of them across the floor with a little scattering that she ignored because Harry was gazing at her like she was the most special thing on the planet.

Harry really, truly believed she was.

“Yeah?” She smiled, but her eyes were so watery it made him melt.

“Very much so,” he leaned forward and swept his lips across hers briefly so as not to get Rory’s attention to their yucky kissing. “Merry Christmas, m’love.”

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” she leaned toward him, resting against his chest. His arm draped over her while they watched Rory stuff a mouthful of M&Ms between his lips. They continued watching him open each and every present that was selflessly ticked off his list.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Rory smiled excitedly.

“I think so too, love bug,” she giggled at him.

“Absolutely,” Harry agreed.

“How about a picture, Rory?” She asked grabbing her phone out of the pocket of her leggings. “C’mere,” she handed her phone to Harry and opened her arms for Rory to hop into her embrace. Rory situated himself half on her lap and half on Harry’s. She squeezed closer to Harry while he hold the phone out for a selfie. Rory held his little jar of slime out for the picture and Harry grinned into the camera as she rested her hand on Harry’s leg around Rory’s little body as best she could. “Alright one more,” Harry smirked and leaned toward her to steal a kiss that caused Rory’s face to wrinkle in distaste forever savoring the perfect moment on film.

A Christmas for the history books, for certain.

At least their history books.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @haarrrys @lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles @tenaciousperfectionunknown

neighbors taglist: @claimingharrystigertattoo @mopeymousey @vmpellie

[emeritus-fuckers]

How would the papas react to an unplanned pregnancy?

Papas and unplanned pregnancy

Primo

First of all, he's surprised.

He knows he is old, so he's mostly surprised that it took.

But, he is more than happy to sit with you through the pregnancy, or if you decide to terminate, he's also happy to pay for it.

He's kinda chill about the whole thing, tbh. Just wants to make sure you're comfortable.

Secondo

He is calm for about.. two seconds.

Then starts freaking out. He's a party man- He doesn't know how to deal with a kid!

Is probably more freaked out about it than you.

Don't get him wrong, he is happy if you decide to keep it. And he would likely clean up his act a little bit, and calm down from all the parties.. at least a little bit.

If you decide to terminate, he is also happy to hold your hand through the appointment, and help you afterwards.

Extremely freaked out, but going along with what you want.

Terzo

Immediately starts screaming.

At first, it's scared, Then its happy.

He loves kids!

He would be more than happy to keep the kid, and would be there the entire time. Treating you like an absolute god/goddess.

And if you decide to terminate, he will also understand. Make's sure you have the best doctor and you have the best pampering when recovering, if you need it.

Just very supportive.

Copia

"Oh amore!"

He is extremely happy. He love's kids and has always wanted one. He is so happy, immediately starts talking about names and how he can decorate the nursery, about how the ghouls will love the child.

If you decide to keep it, he is over the moon, hugging you and immediately looking for pregnancy vitamins.

If you decide to terminate, he understands. He will hold you and smile as he say's he will make the appointment. He cannot be pulled off of you for the entire appointment, and makes sure you're comfortable if you need anything after.

Just wants whatever makes you happy, a smile on his face the entire time.

Old Nihil

Completely flabbergasted.

Don't get me wrong, he knows he's fertile. He did make four sons (well, he doesn't know about one of them being his son, but that's a different story) and probably some... other unknown children.

He did not expect to make a kid at his current age, though!

Everything's up to you, really, but he will point out that he's... well, too old for a baby.

But if you decide to keep the kid, he's gonna try to at least help you out... somehow.

He's not very good at it, though.

Young Nihil

He is... not very happy.

It's not so much that he hates his kids (despite what it seems), there's just... a shit ton of trauma that nobody ever cared to deal with. (Please send him to therapy)

His first reaction is demanding you get rid of it and storming off.

He finally comes back the next morning, completely wasted.

He sees you crying and breaks down, too, finally opening up.

You talk for a long time before making a decision together.

If you keep it, he'll try his best. He will fuck up a lot, but he'll try.

If you terminate, he's gonna be with you and he'll hold you as long as you need afterwards.

~

Papas I-IV written by Zenith/Jasper.

Papa Nihil written by Nosferatu.

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