#not thrilled to become the talk of the office or whatever but literally who cares!!! it'll go away eventually and it'll be worth enduring.

[nuisanceground]

haha the time crunch anxiety has kicked in

... I think I need to talk to my therapist. I stopped our appointments until January, but haha. I need help with all of this.

[scrumptious-delusion]

murder on the dancefloor

series masterlist

summary: you're ecstatic to learn that your next mission involves a 70's themed party. your partner however, is not.

pairing: bucky barnes x agent!female reader

warnings: swearing, murder, a bit of fluff, a lot of humour, mention of: guns, knives and alcohol.

length: 4.1k

a/n: *thanos voice* now [canon] can be whatever i want. don’t hold the accuracy of the russian against me, i just used google ✌. written for my 3k celebration, the prompt is bolded.

Bucky Barnes is your opposite in almost every way.

He’s quiet, grumpy, and generally comes across as if he’s over the whole life thing.

Which, with his past – not to mention his age, you figure he has every right to be.

You also figure it’s these two things that have made him impossible to shock. Something you quickly learnt about Bucky on your first mission together was that literally nothing fazes him.

Nothing.

Essentially, Bucky acts every bit like the old man he is.

On any given mission you have no doubt he’d rather be sitting on a porch reading the paper – or whatever it is old men enjoy doing.

Then there’s you with your sporadic bursts of energy and ability to talk aimlessly for hours.

Your light-hearted disposition means you’ll joke about something before you take it seriously, even if it’s at your own expense.

You’ll admit that’s not always a great thing.

Despite your differences however, the two of you make one hell of a duo.

You used to be an agent who spent more time behind a desk than in the field, and what missions you could get were far from thrilling.

Then along came Bucky.

His charming personality had sent the government scouring down a long list of agents, trying to find someone who wouldn’t refuse to be his partner after one mission together.

Let’s just say your name wasn’t at the top of that list.

Everyone was surprised and relieved when Bucky didn’t send you running for the hills.

Everyone except Bucky, because he of course gave no reaction, and you.

You couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.

Though truthfully, the man would’ve had to have done something horrific for you to turn down an opportunity to leave the office every once in a while.

The department only used Bucky for specific missions. Usually the so-classified-every-word-in-the-file-is-blacked-out kind.

In order to be granted a full pardon, Bucky had to work for the government to “demonstrate his commitment to the nation’s safety and wellbeing” until they were “satisfied and confident of his standing as a faithful American citizen”.

Basically, during Bucky’s trial the government heavily implied that it couldn’t be proven that he didn’t still have some allegiance with the Russians or whoever as a bullshit excuse to get the Winter Soldier to do some of their dirty work.

Since Bucky was now three years into his “demonstration” – only one of which you’d spent working with him, you were starting to wonder how much longer it would be before the government was forced to hold up their end of the deal.

Until that day arrives, you eagerly await the phone call that signifies another mission.

You stroll across the aircraft hangar, duffel bag hooked over your shoulder as you approach the familiar figures of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.

“Hey guys.” You smile, dropping your bag at your feet.

Sam greets you with a grin while Bucky grunts his version of a hello.

You like to think you’ve become somewhat of an expert at understanding Bucky’s mostly silent way of communicating.

Recognising the meanings behind different grunts and stares. Understanding the words expressed through the rise and fall of his eyebrows.

It’s truly a language of its own.

“They’re still pairing you up with this grandpa, huh?”

Shrugging, you jokingly sigh “I’m the only agent with aged care experience.”

Bucky doesn’t entertain either of you with a reaction, he simply picks up your bag and walks away without so much as a nod towards Sam.

Twisting to watch Bucky as he strides off, Sam yells “You’re welcome for the lift!”

There’s no response.

Rolling his eyes, Sam ribs “Have fun with him.”

Already trailing after Bucky, you call back “I always do!”

You catch up with him outside the hangar bay, in front of a cargo plane where the usual well dressed and important looking person with a manila envelope waits.

It’s never the same person and they never give their name.

You’ve coined them all as Charlie.

“Sergeant Barnes, Agent.” Charlie greets before getting straight to the point. “This is Jeremy Fitz.”

Reaching into the envelope they pull out his photo. “We’ve just received information that he’s been hired to kill this man,” They pull out another photo “Simon Miller, within the next seventy-two hours.”

“Fitz has been on our radar for quite some time but tracking him has proven difficult. However, Simon Miller is an active member in society and easy to shadow. You’ll stick close to him and wait for Fitz to reveal himself. When he does, you are to eliminate him, but only after he’s taken out Miller.”

Sliding the pictures back into the envelope, Charlie holds it out to you.

Just once you wouldn’t mind being told why.

“There’s to be no evidence of U.S. involvement, get caught and you’re on your own.”

Yes, yes. The usual spiel.

Refraining from rolling your eyes, you take the envelope.

“This cargo plane will take you to a base in London where you’ll change and be driven to the hotel Miller is currently staying at. You’ll have a room there that’s been set up with the appropriate means for the mission. Understood?”

“Got it.” You confirm.

Bucky nods once in acknowledgement.

Charlie doesn’t spare a second. Spinning around, they make a swift departure to an awaiting car.

You and Bucky stride up the cargo plane’s ramp and despite there being numerous places to sit, you take a seat right next to Bucky.

“How ya been?”

Almost five weeks have passed since you last teamed up. You rarely saw each other outside of missions, though the two of you did occasionally call one another.

Okay, you occasionally call Bucky when you’re bored or have had a drink to unwind and feel chattier than usual. You talk, he sometimes grunts, and then you eventually say goodbye.

“Fine.” Bucky answers, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

He doesn’t need to prompt you in return, you’re already speaking the moment he finishes his reply.

“You know all those plants I bought?” You ask rhetorically. “Dead. All of them.”

During the last mission, your latest Pinterest phase had convinced you that your apartment would look amazing covered in greenery. Which it did, the numerous plants had looked fantastic for the short two weeks they lived.

“I felt bad about it, but I mean, I watered them.” When you were actually home to do so. “Gave them light.” Though you weren’t sure if they all needed it, or how much. “What else was I supposed to do? I probably should’ve just started with one.”

Too late now, you were over plants.

Flowers would be nice.

You could buy a bouquet each week, but the closest florist charged a fortune, even for a basic bunch. It would be a much more expensive endeavour than the plants you paid a collective ten dollars for at a yard sale.

“Do you think I should try a fish?”

“No.”

You sigh in response to Bucky’s instant shutdown. “Yeah, I’d feel a lot worse about accidentally killing an animal.”

There’s silence as you consider possible alternatives. It’d be nice to come home to something.

“Anyway,” Looking down at the envelope in hand, you flip it open. “I’m just glad to get away for a bit, my new supervisor is driving me insane. I don’t think it’s legal to make me do as much paperwork as I have and he keeps picking me up on every minor detail, even though the asshat has me doing all of his reports.”

You blame the death of your plants on said asshat. Because of him you’ve barely been home during the weeks, always starting work early and finishing late.

“I’ve spent every weekend watching Pride & Prejudice.”

It’s one of your favourite movies and a go-to comfort film, something Bucky’s well aware of because you’ve mentioned it, oh, only a thousand times.

In fact, one of your favourite memories is when you first spoke of it with Bucky during your third mission together.

“I’m definitely watching Pride & Prejudice once this is all over.” You pant, bending over with your hands on your knees. Squinting up at Bucky you ask, “Have you seen it?”

The only evidence of exertion on the super soldier is the more prominent rise and fall of his chest, otherwise he appears fine.

You, however, feel like you’re on the verge of passing out.

Bucky shakes his head.

“I love it, it’s one of my favourite movies. The tv show’s also good, but it’s long and I don’t always have the time, you know?”

Wow, even gasping for breath you just keep talking.

“It’s based off a book, I thought you might’ve known it, you would’ve been a kid when it came out.”

Bucky raises a cautious left eyebrow, his deep voice questioning “When?”

You shrug, standing up and moving your hands to your hips, still huffing. “Early 1800’s.”

The sigh that passes through Bucky’s lips is powerful, dredged up from deep within his tired soul.

Turning around, he resumes jogging through the forest.

“Wait!” You call out, fighting the smile on your lips as you stagger behind him. “Bucky! It was a joke!”

He slows enough for you to catch up.

You’re absolutely drenched in sweat.

Once you’re by his side, you say “C’mon, I know that was a good century after you were born.”

You laugh, a very unattractive sound as you struggle for oxygen and Bucky takes off in a proper run. You merely fall to the forest floor on your hands and knees, still laughing to yourself as you try and regain some energy.

An hour later you finally stumble into the old cabin, clearly a long time after Bucky has, as he lies showered and asleep in bed.

Heading straight to the bathroom for a soothing cold shower, you don’t emerge until a good half hour later.

Despite your strong desire to sleep, you’re craving something sweet, so you venture into the tiny kitchen for the cookies you made sure to bring, to break up the bland meals of tinned food.

It’s with great horror you discover that Bucky has eaten every last one.

“Okay, this is the best mission yet.” You announce, inspecting the giant hotel room.

Previous missions have seen you sleeping in seedy motels, mould ridden apartments, or even on the cold ground, so this five star hotel room is heaven sent.

You’re so happy Simon Miller is a man with expensive taste.

Waltzing over to the king sized bed, you collapse on top of it, revelling in the softness beneath you.

There’s only one, but it won’t be the first time you’ve had to share a bed with Bucky.

You’ll be taking turns in it anyway, since someone will need to be monitoring the camera feed of Miller’s room.

Forcing yourself back up, you walk over to the desk where everything has been set up. Glancing at the camera feed you see Miller watching tv before shifting your focus to the papers containing more information about the mission.

Your eyes fall to a brightly coloured invitation for a party tomorrow night that Miller will be attending. The words you read have you rushing over to the wardrobe that holds your mission provided clothes.

Bucky watches you curiously from where he assesses the weapons, keeping an eye on the cameras.

Flinging open the doors, you turn to look at him over your shoulder. “It’s a seventies themed party!”

Stepping to the side, you let him see the two very sequined outfits hanging inside the wardrobe. “Fitz better not kill Miller before tomorrow night.”

Frowning at the orange suit he’ll have to wear, Bucky huffs.

Smiling at his obvious disdain, you tease “Better get those dance moves ready, Barnes.”

“We won’t be going.”

You zip up your white go-go boots before giving yourself a once over in the mirror. The skirt of your silver, sequined dress falls just above your knees, while the bell sleeves swish with your every move.

It’s perfect.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you’re greeted with a wonderful sight.

Bucky stands in front of the desk, the orange pants he wears flaring out around his feet which are covered in simple black boots. His matching orange, sequined jacket is fitted tightly to his large build and unbuttoned, showing the white shirt underneath that has a deep v cut, exposing his chest and a light smattering of hair.

He’s left his brown hair down, the ends just passing his shoulders, and his beard is neatly groomed.

You’re caught in an odd predicament of wanting to laugh and swoon.

“Don’t even think about it.” The threat is spoken gruffly as Bucky’s dark blue eyes quickly dart to the phone in your hand.

“What?” You ask, eyes wide. “I’m just checking the time.”

The shake of Bucky’s head tells you he doesn’t believe you one bit.

I’ll get a photo later.

“Miller’s on his way out.” Bucky states, stepping back from the desk. “Gun?”

Due to his well-fitting suit, you’re the only one carrying a weapon – sorry, a gun.

Bucky himself is a weapon and even without the metal arm he’s hidden by wearing a pair of black gloves, you know there’s at least a dozen knives strapped somewhere on him.

You’ve settled for just the gun, which is secured in the holster around your right thigh.

“Got it.”

It’s like something out of a movie.

The moment you step through the doors of the party, the iconic sweep of piano keys that starts off Dancing Queen rings out as you’re washed in the glow of multicolour laser lights and the shimmering of the giant disco ball hanging above the crowded dancefloor.

Not one person has half-assed their attire, they’re all dressed so well you’re having a hard time remembering what decade it actually is.

“Control yourself.” The low tone of Bucky’s voice holds humour, making you realise your mouth is open.

“This is amazing.” You murmur, continuing to assess the party.

Most of the light is focused on the dancefloor, leaving the rest of the room relatively dark, particularly the second floor – a balcony that stretches around the entire room.

A good hiding spot.

Bucky leads you over to a dark edge of the party, where you can clearly see Miller as he talks with a group of people, accompanied by the two women he arrived with.

“I hope he dances.” You sigh longingly.

You really, really want a reason to go out on that dance floor.

Bucky’s muttered response is lost amongst the noise.

It’s two hours in and you’ve finally moved to the dance floor that Miller also occupies.

There’s been no sign of Fitz, much to Bucky’s annoyance.

He hasn’t even committed to at least appearing like he’s dancing. Instead he’s just standing still, gazing around while you stand opposite him, putting in some effort.

You’re swaying to the beat of each song, bopping your head, and mouthing along when you know the words.

The two of you barely look like you’re together, so you can’t blame the guy who swaggers over, clearly wanting to dance with you.

However, the glare that Bucky levels him with has the guy swaggering right on by, like he never even saw you in the first place.

“So, how does it compare to the real thing?” You ask over the Fleetwood Mac song, gesturing to your surroundings.

Bucky raises an eyebrow that says, “Why should I know?”

“You were alive during the seventies.” You shrug.

“HYDRA wasn’t exactly letting me out to attend discos.” He deadpans.

The image his words conjure is unavoidable. All you can picture is Bucky decked out in the Winter Soldier attire you know from the photos, standing in the middle of a disco, Saturday Night Fever-ing it.

“The groovy soldier.” You snort.

Bucky levels you with that look. The one that’s just a blank stare, like he’s completely dead inside. Like there’s literally nothing he could say even if he wanted to because what you’ve said is just that stupid.

It’s a look you’re familiar with.

All you do is smile innocently back at him.

The sound of chatter rises around you as the current song fades out to be replaced by another.

You’re not the only person who gives an excited gasp as Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! starts playing.

“I love this song!”

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you again, and you’re unsure if it means he knows the song or not, but you don’t care to ask as you start really dancing.

This song always seems to possess your body whenever it comes on.

Your hips twist in time to the beat, your arms, hands, and feet moving along with it as you put on a show you’ve performed a million times around your apartment.

Bucky’s watching you intently as you dance in front of him and you move in closer, wondering if you can entice him to somewhat move along with you when you notice a red dot on his white shirt.

You frown at the dot that doesn’t quite seem like the other laser lights and say, “You’ve got red on you.”

It’s gone before Bucky can even look down at it.

“Oh.” You realise, meeting Bucky’s gaze.

Processing things much faster than you, Bucky looks over to where Miller is dancing with the two women.

“Find Fitz.” He orders you.

Before you can say anything, Bucky tugs you forward, holding you to him as he dances the two of you through the crowd and closer to Miller, all in time with the lively song.

You force yourself to focus on searching along the second floor, knowing from the angle of the red dot that Fitz has to be somewhere up there. You figure he must be moving around, trying to find his best shot amongst the dancing bodies. Something he could do easily in the darkened area.

If only you could –

You squeak as Bucky’s hands suddenly grasp at your hips, lifting you up and giving you an unobscured view as he spins.

Damn he’s strong.

The ease at which he picked you up makes you feel something.

“Oh, found him!”

Bucky loosens his grip, allowing you to slip through his hands until your boots touch the ground once more.

“In the corner to your left, beside the yellow dress.”

His gaze travels up to the spot and you can tell when he locks on Fitz.

“Gun?”

“Right thigh.”

You feel Bucky’s left hand gingerly pressing at the spot, feeling the gun over your dress, his eyes not leaving Fitz.

“He’s lining up his shot.” Bucky tells you. “Tell me when Miller’s dead.”

Over Bucky’s shoulder you focus on Miller and watch as the red dot reappears on his forehead, seeming like another laser light to the other partygoers.

Then the dot is replaced with a hole, the bullet silent.

“Dead.”

You give another small squeak as Bucky spins you in his arms, pushing your back to his front while his right hand glides up under your dress to wrap around the handle of the gun, all before the first scream is produced.

In a quick succession no average human could ever achieve, he pulls the gun from your holster and fires with perfect accuracy at Fitz, who doesn’t even get the chance to take a step before his body crumbles to the ground.

The loud gunshot causes chaos to erupt.

“Nice shot.” You compliment, feeling out of breath as everyone runs for the exit.

It has absolutely nothing to do with Bucky’s warm body pressed up against you or his metal arm that’s wrapped tightly around your waist.

Bucky grunts in thanks over the terrified screams.

The feel of warm metal on your thigh makes you look down, and you watch as Bucky uses the tip of the gun to lift your dress and expose the holster. Placing the weapon back, he grabs the hem of your dress with his gloved right hand and covers the holster once more, brushing your skin in the process.

Stupid fucking gloves.

You blink at your own thought.

Where did that come from?

Before you can dwell on it, Bucky’s arm drops from your waist and whatever trance you had entered is broken as he steps back.

Clearing your throat, you turn around, the room now completely deserted.

You follow Bucky’s gaze to where Miller’s dead body lies on the dancefloor. You’re both staring at it when the music fades out again, automatically transitioning to the next song which just happens to be Stayin Alive.

You know your giggle is unacceptable enough to quickly slap a hand over your mouth, but it does nothing to hide it.

Bucky smiles.

When you exit the bathroom refreshed from your shower and dressed in pyjamas, you find Bucky already in bed. As always, he’s taken the side closest to the door.

You fall onto the bed, bouncing from your momentum and release a relaxed sigh.

Another mission done and dusted.

Crawling under the sheets where Bucky’s warmth already radiates, you smirk devilishly.

Once you’ve settled into a comfortable position on your side facing Bucky, you slide your cold feet across the bed until they come into contact with Bucky’s nearest ankle and foot.

He growls your name in warning.

You merely laugh, not moving your feet.

“не испытывай меня сегодня вечером маленькая птица.”

It wasn’t unusual for Bucky to speak Russian around, or to you.

Curiosity makes you relent and remove your feet as you ask, “What does that mean?”

You knew nothing of the language and google translate was of no help to you. You recognised words he often used however, like those last ones.

If you had any patience you’d try to learn the language.

“It means, I killed the last person who put their cold feet on me.”

Sure it does.

“Consider me terrified.” You mock.

Bucky grumbles something under his breath.

Smiling, you fluff up the pillow beneath your head, eyelids already feeling heavy as Bucky flicks off the lamp beside him, shrouding the room in darkness.

“Night Bucky.”

Small streaks of light from the city outside sneak through gaps in the curtains, and joined with Bucky’s enhanced sight, it’s easy to see you beside him in the bed.

You’d fallen asleep around an hour ago, not long after saying goodnight.

She always falls asleep so damn fast.

Bucky recalls the first time he had to share a bed with you, on your third mission together.

Like tonight, you’d found sleep quickly, the day’s events tiring you out. Meanwhile, he’d lain wide awake, uncomfortable and unfamiliar with the close proximity.

It had taken time and a few of the tricks he once used to help himself fall asleep during his recovery years, but Bucky eventually managed to doze off - though it was short lived.

He was awoken a couple of hours later to the feeling of something on his right arm.

While Bucky laid as close as possible to the edge of the bed, his right arm was somewhat outstretched from his body, towards you on the other side.

You had shifted closer to him in your sleep, perhaps chasing his warmth unconsciously, and during your move you’d found his right arm and grabbed it. You cradled it against you like one might a stuffed toy, your hands wrapped around his bicep while your cheek pressed into it, and –

Bucky had squinted at where your mouth rested against his bare skin, but the slight wetness he could now sense told him that yes, you were in fact drooling on him.

The weird girl I’ve known for less than two weeks is drooling on me, he’d recapped to himself.

Bucky had simply stared and stared at you until the sun rose the next morning.

Ever since then, whenever the two of you have ended up sharing a bed, a similar routine has always ensued.

You fall asleep first, Bucky a little while later - either before or after you migrate over to him in your sleep, and in the morning he slips from your grasp, always the first one to wake.

Drool was occasional and a dead arm was guaranteed if you were sleeping on his right side.

Once you managed to wind up flush against him, and he’d woken up to you curled around his body.

Tonight, Bucky decides he’ll wait until you find your way over to him before falling asleep, reasoning that you’ll only wake him up when you eventually do anyway.

Besides, maybe this will be the night you turn that once into twice.

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Dionysus

Hey y’all, sorry for going dark! I’m alright, almost completely recovered in fact! I just got so sleepy while my body was fighting stuff off and couldn’t really work up the energy to write... Still going to be spotty for a short time, but I’m glad to have gotten this done. See ya soon!

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus

Lucifer

Well, this mortal stumbled out of the portal covered in glitter, body paint, and carrying a red solo cup… which they proceeded to stare at like, "'ell sshhit… Thiz iz sum stron s'uff…"

First impressions were not on their side here.

He spent a depressingly long amount of time more or less assuming that the MC was a drunken f-up and spent the first few months trying to make them more… presentable.

But like… How do you stop someone from acting like a drunk fool when they can turn any drink they touch alcoholic???

For months they would show up to meetings buzzed or stumbling, all smiles and all giggles but HORRIBLY unprofessional, and he just couldn't stand it!

But then he found out their little secret…

Assassination threats befall the exchange students all the time. Most of them are dealt with quickly but some (through skill or dumb luck) manage to slip through...

He had been walking with the MC through their new vineyard in the House's courtyard, yet again trying to lecture them about their drunken behavior, when suddenly the two were ambushed!

Ten or so heavily armored demons dropped down from the sky to attack them! Lucifer was so preoccupied that he got cornered by three of them and it took him a hot minute to destroy them.

When he looked back at the mortal (who had been fighting a 1-on-7) he was certain they'd have been kidnapped or worse…

But he saw that they had already cut down two attackers with their weapon with ease. The other five were rolling in the dirt, babbling about inexplicable terrors and imaginary pain as their minds succumbed to madness…

Meanwhile, the MC just stood in the middle of it all with the icy glare of someone who’s just revealed how stone-cold sober they've always been under the surface...

When they turned back to him, they put their usual ditzy smile back on over the tormented wails of the demons around them...

MC: Whoopsie… Gotta little mad there. 🙂

He uh… took a big ol'step off their back after that. Surprisingly, they're more pleasant (and less dangerous) "drunk" than they are sober…

Mammon

Oh HELL yeah!! Lucifer actually gave him a mortal that knows how to party!!

Admittedly, they looked like utter trash when they first met, like, "Hey, I've been at this party since DAWN" trash, but they gave him one good look and pulled together a surprisingly hot smile.

MC: "-ey yer cute… Ya like strip poker?"

Spoken like someone else who also makes shit decisions… They were going to get along just fine!

And they did. The MC to him was that one friend that's always down for anything. Just anything. Whenever. Wherever.

He wants to try sneaking into Lucifer's room to steal stuff? Sure, what time?

He wants to take a mattress and see if he can ride it down the grand staircase of the palace? Alright, we bringin' pillows too?

He needs to set up another scheme that's gotta involve live rats and box of tiny hats and monocles?? That's oddly specific but count them in!!

Sometimes he honestly can't tell if they're laid back or just crave chaos... but it works out fine for him either way so who cares? 🤷‍♀️

And if you think normal Mammon is a pain in the ass for Lucifer? Check out drunk Mammon. All the same urges but literally none of the (marginal) competence!!

At one point, the eldest ended up stringing both Mammon and the MC from the ceiling after they both barged into his office looking for Goldie… while he was still in there… watching them wander around aimlessly calling out for a piece of plastic like it was a missing puppy…

They end up together on the ceiling a lot come to think of it, but hey, at least now he has some company. 😌

Leviathan

Thinks they're the most normal normie to have ever normed on this normie planet!!!

No, seriously. They're a billion times worse than Asmo!! All they want to do is go to parties and drink all the time! What kind of use is he to someone like that??

… That being said they ARE pretty fun to be around… And their sake is WAY better than anything he could get off Akuzon!!

They also like karaoke too! So at least he has someone else to go with (even if they get so drunk they can’t remember any lyrics and just belt barely coherent discount Mariah Carey vocals behind him...)

Of course, the real fun between these two is everybody else getting to watch a couple of the Devildom's sloppiest drunks attempt to communicate with each other…

Levi: MMM-*hic*-MCCC…!!! *throws himself at them from across the bar*

MC: What Leviachan??? 😨 Did the chair kick you off?!

Levi: Nooo! *pokes their cheek* I wanna-I wanna tell you sometin'...! *tries pulling them closer*

MC: Whaa? Secrets?? *leans in eagerly*

Levi: Mammon used all ma money on’a pyramid scheme a thou-zand years ago… AND HE STILL WON'T PAY ME BAAA-!!! 😭😭 *starts shaking them violently*

MC: *getting flung around like a limp noodle* Waaaat?! Nooo!!! I'm so sowwy!! 😢

Mammon: *watching it all go down right next to him* 😑 Ya guys need some water… I'm cuttin' ya off, got it?

MC: 😱 Shut yer whore mouth, criminal!! *starts pelting him with pretzel bites*

Levi: 😤 Yah!! *joins in*

Good thing he's a shut-in, because the hangovers he gets after those escapades are unreal…

Satan

A little concerned for their liver, honestly… How much damage have they already done to the poor thing...?

But at the same time, he'll be damned if they don't make some utterly fantastic wine!

Alcokinesis wasn't a power he would have pegged a demigod to have but apparently the great art of making drinks comes from their godly DNA.

When they first met, he was trying to get the MC to act less slovenly but made the mistake of agreeing to a wager: he'd let them dress however they pleased if they could give him the BEST drink he'd ever tasted.

Now, Satan isn't a huge drinker (thank you terrible alcohol tolerance), but he's still a man of fine tastes. Plus, he's sampled Demonus from Diavolo royal stock before. They should not have won…

But on that day, he had to let them go to RAD in a pink blanket toga... 😑 Their wine is just THAT good.

He hates to admit it, but they've gotten him drunk more times than he could probably count too… He's not a huge fan of clubbing with them and the others, but if they bring over a bottle from their vineyard he just can't resist. They're a master of their craft, truly.

And it's a good thing he likes their drinks so much, because if they called him, "Kitty-boy," when he's sober, he may have just become a sour grape himself…

They also may or may not have copious amounts of blackmail material of him either meowing between sentences, sobbing over some fictional character he likes, pole dancing on dares….

Yeah, he's been trying to destroy their phone for months now. If Lucifer were to see ANY of that, he's done for… 😣

He has also been meaning to ask them about other aspects of their abilities, their father is also the God of Madness after all, but anytime he tries to bring it up they shove another glass in his hand and tell him not to kill the mood...

Eh. What's the harm in having another drink, right? 🤷‍♀️

Asmodeus 

Honey. He's MET Dionysus. He's been to a Dio-party or two and they're INSANE. He could not be more thrilled by this!!!

He practically scooped them up on the first night that they were in the House and it’s practically been a nonstop rave between these two ever since. They’re like the party twin he never knew he needed!!

He absolutely abuses their ability to turn pretty much any drink they touch into alcohol at clubs. It makes the nights so much easier on the wallet PLUS it makes an excellent little party trick to impress the succubi! Who doesn’t want a free drink? 😏

And can he just say that their drinks are better? Just flat out amazing! If it weren’t so unhealthy he’d consider drinking nothing but their booze and wine for the rest of his days, Satan’s certainly getting close to it.

But little does Satan know, he’s not even getting the GOOD stuff...

There’s the normal wine: grapes picked from the vineyard, hand squeezed, then magically helped through the fermenting process. But their real good stuff? They were given enchanted oak barrels from their father and anything that comes out of those is worth starting a WAR over. 😩

He knows, because he gifted an extra bottle to Diavolo once and Barbs came to him the very next day demanding to know what vineyard had produced it with the look of man willing to annex a small nation...

Asmo had to beg Lucifer to talk to Diavolo after the butler more or less kidnapped the MC back to the Castle… Devil knows even Barbs wouldn’t ever be able to reproduce their wine, so they could have been locked there for eternity!!

Thankfully, he got his party-buddy back and their debauchery continued! (Just now with Barbatos following them around sometimes like he’s trying to gather state secrets... It’s an impossible task but he hasn’t given up yet, bless his black heart.)

Beelzebub

He isn't much bothered by their carefree nature, at least they seem to be having fun with his family which he appreciates. 🙂

To be honest, though, he nearly ate them when they first met because they smell like freshly peeled grapes… and for good reason.

By their third day at the House they had (somehow) planted and cultivated a full on vineyard in the courtyard. Hell, the wall growing to their bedroom balcony was covered in grapevines!! Always ripe and completely healthy in defiance of the lack of sun... Whatever magic they used was strong.

And, of course, their grapes were also delicious! Easily among the best fruits he's ever tasted! Every cluster is ridiculously plump, juicy, and sweet like little droplets of pure Heaven… 🤤

When their fruit first ripened, the MC came out with a basket to collect some only to find Beel had gouged himself on over half of their crop!!!

… which may have been why he got snared up on one of the courtyard walls by pissed off grapevines... Even with all his strength, he couldn't break through them and had to wait for Lucifer to cut him down… 😔 

From then on, Beel was pretty much the pesky rabbit to the MC's harvest. They had to set up traps and magical barriers to keep him from their precious grapes…!! Which inevitably meant one of his brothers had to come rescue him from their furious vines at least once a week... 🙄

SOMETIMES, the MC will bring him along to help harvest with them with the deal that he can have an extra basket for however many he helps them pick. But the second he takes a bite he shouldn't, it’s back on the wall!

Out of the vineyard, they're nice enough. But put some grapes between these two and they're mortal enemies… STOP messing with their plants, Beel!! 😤

Belphegor 

So… this drunken fool is supposed to get him out of the attic? Never mind, this is never going to work…

He was SEVERELY underwhelmed when the "human" finally made it up the steps. This was who they decided to bring for their exchange program? They seemed like they could barely stand!

Naturally, he figured all the better for him. They probably wouldn't even last that long! 

Some poor, incompetent human falling victim to a demon out there? Diavolo's reputation would in tatters and he wouldn't even have to lift a finger! (His favorite way of doing things really 😌).

But… they just kept coming back? Like. Nothing was killing them….! How guarded were they keeping this moron?? 

Or… maybe it was something else?

Sure, the MC seemed like a drunken idiot but there were times when he'd swear that they were just… too aware to be sloshed…

MC: *suddenly stops smiling at him mid-conversation and looks him in the eye* You tilt your head when you lie. You know that?

How can someone so cheerful ALSO be so unnerving…?

So really, he should have seen their sudden heel-turn after they opened the door coming. There he was, fully intending to take them by surprise and choke them after a hug…

...and they knocked him down, climbed onto his back like a spider monkey, and rode him around like a bucking bull using his horns like handlebars!!

It wouldn’t have been AS humiliating if they didn’t also keep shouting things like "Giddiyap!" And "Yee-haw!!"

It took him a whole month to be sure that any and all footage of that nightmare was erased and he STILL hates the MC quite a bit for it…. But he's too scared to attack them now, so…

The lesson here? It's not a fair fight when one side’s crazy... 😔😒

[in-tua-deep]

Ok I totally want to hear more about this survivors au/Delores is real! How do the siblings handle having this different version of Five? Five may be better adjusted but he still has to heard his family around like a bunch of stray cats. What happens when Hazel and Cha Cha show up? How do they find out that Vanya causes the apocalypse and how does Five handle that revelation?!

here is the thing, i think the survivors au has the potential to be HILARIOUS

no one knows how to handle a well-adjusted five, and this absolutely includes the commission

So you mentioned Hazel and Cha-Cha?? Five in this au was not nearly as absolutely feral as he is in the show bc he knows how to interact with people - he was raised by a competent adult and a weird best friend and they occasionally saw other survivors as well

please picture old Five hanging around the water cooler and chatting with Hazel

the other funny thing is that Five is competent passing - he is well adjusted emotionally but functionally?? Hazel is out there complaining about dental being cut and office parties and budgets and Five is there sipping his drink having never filed taxes in his life. Five doesn't know what the fuck a dental plan is, he was a child soldier and then lived in an apocalypse.

So please picture for me Hazel being like "okay I know corporate wants us to keep what we're being paid to ourselves but fuck that, workers unite, what do you get paid as a legend old timer?"

and five is like "you're getting paid? i get to not get tossed back into the apocalypse, I think"

"but what about expense forms? what about medical care?"

"I'm like 80% sure i'm being experimented on, actually." Five says nonchalantly, "Don't get me wrong, my idea of medical care is fucked by being a child soldier but I'm pretty sure regular people don't have electrodes attached to their heads every time they get a checkup. Could be wrong though! My ex-dad used to monitor my brainwaves while I slept so like, my idea of appropriate shit is fucked, you know?"

This is a Five who was raised by Rick, he is polite to his coworkers. If Dot asked him if he wanted to grab lunch, Five would have gone and grabbed lunch with her or politely said that he couldn't.

Cha Cha only ever talks to Five when she wants to talk shop, so they've had a couple of conversations about weapons but not much else tbh, Hazel just tends to be more personable

So when they're sent after Five, Hazel is much more hesitant to kill who he perceives as a "work friend" and also is definitely thinking about all the times Five casually revealed a way the commission was being highkey shady about him, such as the potential experimentation, no pay, working under duress etc. He's much more easily turned against the commission because he's even more primed to say "fuck the commission" than he is in canon

Hazel out here like "how did Five break his contract when Five wasn't even being paid? I kind of want to read it."

Hazel out here like "I would unionize if I didn't think the commission was anti-union enough to send literal assassins after me if I suggested it :/"

meanwhile with the siblings

Five just. talks over them a lot and makes so much sense that it's actually really hard to argue with him, and he's weirdly considerate of his family's obligations

Like Diego is like "i have to go see Patch" then Five is like "that's great I'm proud of you buddy, it would actually be really handy to have some law enforcement read into the situation if you think she's up to the task. that goes for everyone by the way! If y'all have people you trust, more bodies would be super helpful I think"

the entire family, collectively, who have like zero trusted social links: uhhhhhhhh

Diego, with this weird permission, probably?? Does? Awkwardly attempt to read Patch into the situation? Patch is, obviously, like "what the fuck, Diego" but probably goes with him to the mansion (????????) because she's concerned and then meets his fucking whacko family with their superpowers and suddenly everything is 100% more realistic

Five is just like "yes hello I'm aware I look like a child, i'm actually in my late 50s or early 60s (apocalypse time amiright) because of time travel stuff. Yes I am Five Hargreeves who went missing in like 2002 or whatever. anyway it's lovely to meet you, i'm so glad diego has someone he trusts, and considering my sibling's shifty looks when i told them to invite anyone they trusted this genuinely makes me concerned that Diego is the most socially well-adjusted of them."

"That cannot be possible." Patch says, like someone who has met Diego Hargreeves.

"You haven't met the rest." Five says sympathetically, "In our defense we were raised in isolation as child soldiers."

"That... explains so much." Is all Patch can say to that, "But you seem..."

"I'm adopted." Five waves away.

"We're ALL adopted." Diego grits out, very aggrieved by this and also not sure if he likes the fact that Patch seems friendly with Five, or at least is listening to him?

"I'm double adopted."

However! With the recruitment of Patch, herding Diego becomes like 90% easier.

Honestly the worst to herd are probably Luther and Allison? Luther because he's Number One and resents Five taking charge and also resents Five's casual dismissal of Reginald and also suspects that Five (or at least the commission) has something to do with Reginald's death?

Allison because she is torn between following Luther and helping him and helping Five but also calling Patrick and Claire at every possible moment while ALSO trying to repair her relationship with Vanya. She's flighty - she'd bail on a Five-apocalypse-assignment if Vanya mentioned being hungry or if Luther called or anything like that

Vanya likes to be included and, if asked, would probably drop as many current obligations as she can. Like she would probably cancel her teaching if Five genuinely and sincerely asked her for her help, which he does because he's 100% sure Dolores would manifest in front of him and smack him if he dared even imply someone without powers wouldn't be helpful

Vanya is like "I'm not sure if i'll be helpful - I don't have powers ):" and Patch is like "wtf are you talking about - my superpowers are Gun, Backup, and Reading Comprehension and i am like the most useful member of this team right now"

Vanya gets a confidence boost just from hanging out with Patch honestly, I think they should be friends

Klaus is thrilled to be included are you kidding?? He says he does it for money but he's just happy to be there and also as one of the most emotionally intelligent siblings he is mildly concerned about the fact that Five looks like he's about to cry and also emotes

Five also gives Klaus positive reinforcement, hugs, and Five absolutely weaponizes the I'm not mad, but I believe that you can do better and I'm going to give you more chances because I love you and fully believe that next time you'll be amazing way that Rick used on him.

I feel like Five ends up saying something along the lines of "I understand that x is really important, and we're definitely going to look into it. Is it something that needs to be addressed right now, or is it something that can wait until after April 1st? If it can wait, I can write it down here on this list so we don't forget. If it can't wait then we can figure out a time to address it and help you" a lot

Like Grace malfunctioning and potentially killing Reginald?

"We don't have to make this decision right now." Five says patiently, "Because Grace is a robot, we have some options. Living with a robot who is potentially malfunctioning and homicidal is dangerous, but Luther saying that means admitting that Reginald might have made a mistake or error with Grace's programming or upkeep. I haven't been here for a long time, but I remember Reginald being very precise. Regardless, this isn't a choice between permanently shutting her off or not. We can shut her down temporarily until we can fully address the issue. We can ask and see if there is a 'system reboot' option or some sort of system check that Grace can undergo. We can try find and hire an expert to take a look at her programming to find the issue."

Five gives this speech while like, organizing the weaponry in the house on a table very nonchalantly

Five out here making buzzer noises at his siblings arguments like "yeah no that's a false dichotomy and a strawman's argument, want to try again?"

(Look apocalypse nights were long and they had games that were literally about arguing pointless shit like ranking types of chairs or the best way to break out of a prison without powers and things could get heated)

"Who died and made you boss?" Luther demands.

"Uh, the world? Were you not listening?" Five asks, looking very purposefully confused.

It gets even MORE delightful when Five reads Rick into the situation because a) he promised and b) his siblings really have like, no connections jeeze

Rick fully believes that this is his son from the future, like Five introduced himself, but Five skipped out on a few key details. Such as being adopted.

So Rick spends a solid chunk of time just staring at Five, who looks basically nothing like him, trying to think like, who is his mother ???? if we save the world will Five stop existing? why would I name my child 'Five'? Does everyone have powers in the future? was there like... a radioactive apocalypse? would radiation give future humans superpowers? when did my life turn into a comic book? am i even allowed to ask these questions? will knowledge of the future fuck things up?

and then when Five comes back and is like "what is up everyone this is my dad Rick who will be joining us, he doesn't have any memories of me thanks to time travel but if anyone is mean to him i WILL kneecap them"

"Your DAD?"

Five does kidney punch Klaus for saying that Rick is a DILF but otherwise everyone just is like, warily looking at this Normal Dad Man in confusion because?? This is the dude who raised Five, who they watched take out like an entire commission team by himself yesterday? He looks so. Normal.

Rick is very confused and like, wonders if he's supposed to be the team mascot? But Five keeps involving him and asking his opinion and in return Rick enforces snack breaks and makes everyone sandwiches and has gentle talks with everyone

Every time Five notices someone about to blow he just lovingly makes sure that that person is alone in a room with Rick

Luther ends up crying on the sofa with Rick gently patting his back as Rick calmly states that Luther seems like he's put a lot of time and effort into his family and making his father proud and that since Reginald isn't here to say it, Rick will have to be the one to say that he's proud and that they've been dropped into a difficult and stressful situation - so soon after Reginald's death when they're still grieving! - and he's doing so well

Luther, experiencing unconditional positive paternal regard for the first time in his life: i don't know why i'm crying so much

honestly this is just a comedy of juggling the gang, having impromptu therapy sessions and discussions, investigating the apocalypse and the eye, leonard trying to meet vanya continuously and failing because she's constantly surrounding by family or rick/patch, the commission trying their best to bust up the dream team/isolate Vanya/kill or remove Five, while Hazel lives out his romcom dreams with Agnes and also says "fuck the commission"

[krreader]

untraditional.

pairing: gryffindor!kim namjoon x slytherin!reader fandom: bts ; harry potter warnings: non idol!au ; hogwarts!au ; mentions of sex  genre: crack ; fluff ; smut word count: 2.1k+

summary: after the battle of hogwarts, the school decided to bring the rivalry houses closer together. every year, you would get a partner from your rival house and this year, you really hit the jackpot.

a/n: hiiii @namucries​, idk how this idea formed, I literally just started writing and I am so happy with it. like I actually really love the plot? lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy it bb!!!

After the battle of Hogwarts, the school decided that they needed to make some changes. Not just in regards to fortification and the likes, but to how they ran the school.

This ever growing rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor couldn’t continue any longer. If it hadn’t been like this from the beginning, then maybe this whole Draco and Harry situation could have been avoided and then maybe things would have been different. 

And so the professors had decided that each year, you’d be assigned a partner from a “rivalry” house. That was true for Slytherin and Gryffindor, but not so much for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. They didn’t mind this nearly as much as you and your peers.

It was a huge deal every year. Who would be your rival partner that you were stuck with for the rest of the year? Would you be lucky and at least score some eye candy or would you be stuck with a wizard or witch that could barely hold their wand up straight? It was a surprise every year.

“I can’t believe this,” your best friend shook her head as she walked out of McGonagall’s office, “This is the fourth year in a row they’ve assigned another girl to me. I thought that now that I’m finally old enough..-“

You let out a snort, “You do know that there’s plenty of fish to catch in our own house, right?”

“Yeah, but where’s the thrill in that?” she let out a sigh and leaned against the wall, nudging her head to the door, “Fingers crossed you’re luckier than me.”

You didn’t care much about your partners. You’ve managed to avoid all previous ones on most occasions with lame excuses such as: “I’m sorry, I feel really bad today” or, “I’m so busy today, let’s study together some other time.” Most of them cared as little for you as you did for them, so it never caused an issue. Except for last year, when the guy that you were assigned to developed a crush on you and found out that you were spending your time with other Slytherin boys, rather than with him. He told on you, told the professors how you had been doing this for years - basically going against the rules - and so this year, you fully expected them to get back at you for that and assign you a partner that you’d suffer with for a year.

But the moment you entered the headmaster’s office and your eyes fell on the guy that was - apparently - your partner, you stopped walking.

“Hello there,” after a moment of staring, your confidence came back and you now smirked, “Did I just hit the jackpot?”

The guy furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the headmaster with raised eyebrows, “That’s her?!”

McGonagall let out a disapproving sigh and shook her head a little, looking at you over the rim over glasses, “Ms. (Y/L/N), do everyone in the room a favour and have a seat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” you sat down right next to the guy and licked your lips, crossing one leg over the other while continuing to grin at him.

“This is Namjoon. Your designated partner for this year. And..-“ just as you wanted to say something, McGonagall quickly continued, “This is your punishment for this year. Namjoon has been assigned Gryffindor’s headboy and you will help him with anything that he needs and wants.”

This obviously meant errands and helping Gryffindor become a stronger house. That’s what everyone else would have heard in that sentence. But you took away only two things.

“Sure, anything he needs. I’m down for that punishment,” and when McGonagall got up with an annoyed huff, you whispered, “Quite literally.”

At this point, you would have assumed the guy to blush and become intimidated, but Namjoon just smiled at you, despite it not holding any humor to it: “Does that usually work on others of my gender?”

“Don’t worry, some men need a few hours to warm up to me. I’m sure you and I will get along well,” you got up and bounced on your heels, “Thanks for this, headmaster.”

“It’s not a..- just get out,” she had enough of you.

“So.. where are we going first?” this was day one of you being Namjoon’s partner. Unfortunately, it didn’t start with a tumble in his bed, but the day was still young, “How about we go for a butter beer and get to know each other better?”

“I have friends for that,” Namjoon retorted making you stop in your tracks for a moment, but then catch up to him with a laugh.

“Oh, this is going to be so good. I love it when men aren’t shy. Makes them so much more attractive, you know?”

Namjoon let out a snort and shook his head, “Not sure you’ll think of me that way after today.”

Suddenly you came to a stop at a willow. Normally, that’d be a nice sight. Nature, grass, the sun.. But it was not like the paintings hanging in the castle that you often admired, it wasn’t a willow full of magical creatures that you could be amazed by.

It was..-

“COWS?!”

“Yep,” Namjoon grinned and pushed a bucket into your hands, “Someone needs to clean the willow, since Hagrid is away for the month. Nobody was willing to do so and since you and I got paired up, I figured I have the perfect candidate for the job.”

“What, someone to clean?!”

“Someone who is used to shit. After all, that’s all that comes out of your mouth, isn’t it?” Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows at you and put his hands in the pockets of his pants, “I’ll be over there reading up for my next class if you need me.”

“Wh..- You’re not even helping me?“ but you had no option, because he was walking away and the cows were already approaching you, curious about who this new person was that had entered their willow, “Hey, stop that,” you tried to scurry away from them when they started nibbling on your shirt.

This was so not what you had hoped today to look like. Cleaning cow shit.. was Hagrid seriously the only taking care of this? Poor guy..

Still, all the while you were cleaning, you kept muttering curse words directed at Namjoon, even if he couldn’t hear them. They made you feel better. 

How dare he be so rude with you? You didn’t just talk shit, you were a great girl. Smart and well-read and.. stupid.

You straightened your back and furrowed your eyebrows, “What the hell am I doing?” you whispered to yourself.

I’m a freaking member of goddamn Slytherin. Slytherin’s don’t just clean like that, they’re too smart for that. Use your magic, you moron!

Whatever Namjoon wanted you to do, you’d bend the rules to your will as much as you wanted. What was important was that it was clean, right?

So you pulled out your wand and cast the spell that you figured would help you out most here. And indeed, after casting it for a few times, the willow looked as good as new. And with a final spell for a nice smell, you walked back to Namjoon with a smirk on your face. As in: HA, didn’t expect that one, huh?

“I’m impressed,” he smiled up at you from the ground, then got up and brushed over his pants, before saying in all honesty: “I knew there was talent slumbering somewhere within you. You shouldn’t hide it under that ‘cool kid’ facade, you know?”

“What?” you snorted, “I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do. It’s painfully obvious,” he shrugged, “It’s fine, you do you and all. I just think it’s a shame that you try to hide how smart you are in fear of it ruining your reputation. Because see, McGonagall didn’t just choose me as your partner because she knew I had enough errands I’d need help on, but because she knows there’s more to you than what you want everyone to believe. She thought I might be able to help you with that.”

And for the first time in forever, you had no words to that. No witty comeback and no flirty remark that you could say to that. He had seen through you on your first day of you two being together. That hasn’t happened before… ever.

“Anyways, we should go to class,” and to make you even more speechless, Namjoon took off his robe and placed it over your shoulders, since you had forgotten yours - or more likely simply opted not to wear it because you didn’t want to.

You were… so confused.

What were those feelings you were feeling right now?!

You had never cared about your rival partner in the years before, but that changed with you having been assigned to Namjoon. That first day on the willow spent together was the beginning of a, you dared to say, friendship.

He made you understand that being this sarcastic asshole wasn’t nearly as cool as you thought it was. He made you realise that you had a lot more talent than you even knew of yourself. He showed you that, even if you didn’t, he believed in you.

Your friends kept telling you how much you changed, and while some of them laughed about it at first, they all accepted you now. 

The real you that you’ve been trying to hide for so long. The girl that could be kind when need be and was incredibly smart on tests and in classes.. or in general.

But the sarcasm part? The flirty part? Your rival partner couldn’t quite get rid of that..

“Well, don’t you look dazzling,” you grinned as you spotted Namjoon at the Yule Ball. Both of you had come with different partners, but neither of these were anything more than friends.

“Right? The pants look great on me,” he complimented himself with a grin.

“True,” you pretended to think for a moment as you stared at them, then you looked at him from under your eyelashes, “But you’d look even better without them.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but let out a laugh. At this point, he had come to accept that this was just a part of you that he couldn’t change. And well.. maybe he didn’t even want it to.

“We’re here with other people, yet you’re flirting with me. Don’t you think that’s rude?”

“Not at all. And besides, I wanted you to ask me out, but you didn’t,” you pretended to be hurt by pouting your lips, “We could have had so much fun tonight.”

And see, the Namjoon that YOU knew - or at least thought you did-, would have laughed and turned around to walk away. But that man still surprised you every single day. He took a sip from his drink, then placed it on the table next to him and pushed his hands into the pockets of his dashing pants.

“We still could.”

Not the answer you had expected, same as that look that he threw you.

That look.

Before you could reply, he turned around and walked away. But instead of re-joining his date - that had since formed a little group of girlfriends around her, all laughing, thankfully - he left the ballroom.

And well… you couldn’t not follow, right?

He continued walking, even though you were sure that you knew you were only a few steps behind him, through several hallways and up several flights of stairs, until you were finally standing in front of the Gryffindor common room where he had waited for you.

“Hm.. I’m pretty sure I won’t be allowed in there,” you cocked your head to the side, “But whatever it is that you had in mind.. I’m sure it’s innocent enough for us to do right here?”

You licked your lips, then bit down on your lower lip with a grin.

Namjoon was leaning against the railing of the stairs, confidently so. He looked insanely good right there. So good that you wanted to jump on him this very moment. 

But he took the initiative.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, smashed his lips against yours and kissed you so deeply that he literally knocked the breath out of your lungs. It was a passionate kiss, tongues and teeth clashing against each other and hands already beginning to wander, despite the… not very private environment.

But this desperation only proved how much sexual attraction had been building between you two. Because as much as Namjoon had tried to hide it the first few months, he liked you as much as you liked him.. sexually at first, and then later, on a more deeper level. 

But that was another story. Right now, this was about what you needed in that moment.

“I want you,” Namjoon whispered against your lips.

“Then take me,” is what you whispered back without having to think twice about it.

And he would have. He would have pinned you against his mattress and would have pounded into you until you were screaming his name. And you would have let him. You would have begged him not to stop, because you were already sure that he was good. 

But goddamn it, the Fat Lady just had to ruin it, huh?

“Uhm, excuse me, young lads.. I tried to let you two enjoy yourselves for as long as I possibly could, but I just heard what you said and there is no way I can let you inside now.”

These stupid rules. What were the professors so scared about? Pregnancies? You were witches and wizards, you weren’t stupid enough not to know how to prevent that from happening.

You were almost certain that Namjoon would just call it a night with a heavy sigh and you’d be left horny for the rest of the night, but instead, he pushed himself off the railing and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, whispering: “Headboy’s have a lot of privileges these days, you know? The Prefects’ bathroom is open 24/7 for us to use. Us alone,” into your ear.

Well, well… there were so many things you did not know about this man and you couldn’t wait to find them all out.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Ray Stantz

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You first met Ray when you were both still working at the University. You worked down the hall from him and would run into him frequently.

- In the mornings, the two of you would arrive at the same time and he’d open the door for you. You’d make small talk whenever you ended up in the same room or walking in the same direction and he was always willing to lend you something; or a hand, if you needed it. You didn’t know him incredibly well but you did know that he was a sweet guy.

- Ray had a major crush on you. He pretty much fell for you the moment he saw you but his own insecurities kept him from trying to do anything about it. You were smart, gorgeous, and had an amazing personality. What would you want with him?

- It takes him a while to actually ask you out. He keeps going back and forth on whether or not he should, wondering if he’s willing to make a fool of himself just for the off chance that you’ll agree. Peter has a field day with him when he’s in this state, constantly teasing and prodding, urging him to just get it over with and see what you say.

- There was definitely a few instances of him approaching you and/or opening his mouth to say something to you, then quickly shutting it and excusing himself with an apology. It takes him nearly a year to actually go through with it.

- You were just leaving the building and preparing for your walk home when he caught up with you and somewhat shyly asked if you would like to have dinner with him sometime. To his utter shock, you smiled and agreed, and the two of you made plans to meet.

- The two of you went out to a not so fancy restaurant which was perfect for the occasion. He felt like he was walking on clouds the entire night; here he was, with you, and you actually seemed to like him. What were the odds that you would actually like him?

- But regardless of his disbelief over how lucky he was, the two of you had a really great time together and you were happy to see him again the next day at the university.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your third date. He was walking you home and you were both stood in front of your door, saying goodbye. You were just about to walk inside when you paused, turning around and placing a gentle kiss on his lips before saying goodnight again and closing your door.

- He was frozen in shock for a good minute and a half but you should have seen the smile on his face.

- It wasn’t long before the two of you considered yourselves a couple, and he couldn’t have been happier.

- Ray is a big sweetheart and you can’t convince me otherwise, though I doubt you would even try. You’ll never meet another man who treats you so right.

- He loves Pda, especially when people recognize him in public. He feels particularly cool with you hanging on his arm.

- Quick giddy kisses. 

- He keeps his hand on your lower back whenever you’re standing together, it’s just a habit of his. 

- He likes using nicknames; he thinks they’re cute. He usually just calls you things like honey, sweetheart, and beautiful; he’s somewhat old fashioned in that regard. He wouldn’t even mind you calling him pet names. In fact, he’d probably love it. 

- He’s a strong boy and proud of it! Ask him to hold something! Ask him to open a pickle jar! Ask him to carry you! He’s got it covered! …Although, occasionally he wont be able to open the pickle jar and you might actually show him up when trying it again for yourself. 

- Cheek kisses. He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you in, pressing his lips to your cheek enthusiastically and smiling down at you.

- Stealing his sweaters. They’re big and cozy and he melts every time he sees you wearing them.

- Takeout meals. You order in or pick something up at least once a week.

- He’s not afraid to make a fool out of himself so the two of you always have a great time together, filled with jokes and stupid/ridiculous behavior. He loves being able to make you laugh. 

- Cuddling? Sign him the fuck up! No matter what you’re doing, he’ll find a way to squeeze himself beside you and wrap himself around you in some way. Whenever you’re going to bed, you’ll rest your head on his chest with his arms wrapped around you; …or you’ll just be laying almost completely on top of him. 

- A lot of your dates are going to be interrupted, it just sort of comes with the territory. When something strange is in the neighborhood, he’s the one being called so you just have to be patient and understanding. He always makes it up to you anyway.

- Occasionally, he’ll stop and pick up flowers or a movie you’ve been wanting to see from the rental place on his way home. He likes surprising you with something nice, especially if he was called away when you were supposed to spend time together.

- Becoming close with Egon, Winston and Peter. You see them constantly so it’s sort of hard not to.

- Sticking by his side and cheering him up when the Ghostbusters aren’t too popular anymore. 

- You may or may not be a partial owner of the bookshop. As much as he loves being a Ghostbuster, he can’t deny that he likes running the place with you. 

- He’s always there if you need someone to get you something or somewhere. He’s particularly good at pushing through crowds and coming up with things to say that will make it easier for you to do what you have to do. He also just doesn’t take no for an answer so, ya know. 

- He’s a total pushover when it comes to you. You can always convince him to do something for you.

- Ray looks like he knows how to fix things. He looks and acts like a man I could trust with my things. If my car broke down, his smiling face would be the one I would ask to help me. So, if you need anything fixed around your house, all you have to do is ask. 

- Little traditions. Things like watching a specific show after dinner, going to a certain place every weekend or eating certain things on certain days. 

- He loves hugs, they’re pretty much his favorite thing in the entire world.

- Random playful harassment. He kind of likes to tease you, jokingly making fun of and tickling you. He thinks the way you react is cute and it’s usually after you do or say something to him so technically it’s revenge. 

- Now, I’m not saying that Ray owns action figures or other toys of that nature, but Ray would definitely be the type to own them.... You may or may not have a little shelf full of figures when you move in together. 

- He’s a big fan of going to zoos. You practically know the animals at your local zoo by name from how many times you go to see them. 

- Carnival and amusement park dates. 

- He gets this dopey smile on his face whenever you try to give him a massage or dote on him in anyway. He’s just so overjoyed that you actually like him and care about his wellbeing. He also just loves the feeling of your hands. 

- Ray sort of craves domesticity. Seeing you wearing one of his shirts and cooking breakfast or being there to welcome him home after work or surprising him by doing some chores would literally make him melt. He’s a centimeter away from proposing to you on the spot.

- The two of you are pretty much the epitome of two best friends dating. You have the time of your lives together and are always completely comfortable and happy in each others presences. 

- Walking around New York together. You wind up just wandering around the city a lot, occasionally stopping for food or drinks or whatever comes to mind when you pass a store. 

- He isn’t the most sensitive person to talk to when you’re upset or scared about something but he apologizes when he goes off on a tangent or says the wrong thing. Don’t blame him too much, he’s got a skewed view of what’s considered a problem rather than a good scientific discovery. 

- Ray gets easily excited about a lot of things, he’s sort of like a puppy at times so even though you might not be so amused with a situation, he’ll be incredibly happy. Whenever he notices that you aren’t thrilled, he’ll usually just give you a sheepish smile and a “sorry honey”. 

- Having him randomly show up and borderline embarrass you when something big is found out. Just picture the restaurant scene from the second movie.

- Visiting him at the office. 

- Letting him gush to you about the paranormal and supernatural. 

- Helping him with his research, experiments, and invention. He loves having you around and hearing your input.  

- He’s definitely named something after you, whether it be a theory, project or machine he’s created. It’s cute, in a geeky sort of way. 

- Be prepared to get scared and not just by ghosts. Sometimes Ray will just pop into view out of nowhere, excitedly talking about something he just saw and scaring the living daylights out of you. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, did he do something wrong? 

- He works with all things supernatural and paranormal; he’s seen a lot over the years and because of that, he’s gradually gotten more and more protective of you over time. Wouldn’t you if you knew that evil slime once ran wild underneath your girlfriends apartment? 

- He gets particularly miffed when jealous, not livid or angry just …miffed. You know he’s not upset with you but you can tell that something is bothering him. Occasionally, you won’t even have to figure out what because he’ll insult whoever he’s jealous of like he’s talking about the weather. 

- The two of you don’t really fight all too often, you rarely have a reason too, even though your lives are incredibly hectic most of the time. He doesn’t really have one certain way of responding when he’s angry, everything depend on the situation. One day, you’ll bicker, the next, you’ll yell.

- He always feels bad whenever he snaps at you. Almost immediately after he storms out, he’ll get this pang of guilt in his chest and debate on whether or not he should just walk back in and apologize. He usually doesn’t right then; wanting to give you time to yourself, but does come back not very long after and apologizes, admitting he was wrong if he was and asking if things are alright between the two of you.

- He’s always happy to say he loves you, and gosh does he love hearing you say it.

- Your family probably loves him. He’s a guy that’s easy to get along with …and he’s a ghostbuster so he’s got that going for him.

- Ray is sooo ready to have kids and settle down with you, he’s just waiting until he’s in a more stable work environment. He doesn’t need any ghosties lurking in your kids nursery, even if he’s the most equipped to get rid of them.

[maladjusted-nerd]

Starsky and Hutch’s Girlfriends (and Their Hair Color)

[PBS announcer voice] This post is brought to you by the time I was reading The Ollie Report for Bounty Hunter and came across the memorable line: “Again, Starsky is drawn to the dark-haired girl, Hutch to the blonde. Exogamists they are not.”

These are the two ladies in question, respectively:

I thought of this quote a lot as I continued watching the show, because it was quite often relevant. But then I got to Starsky’s Lady, and suddenly Hutch’s date wasn’t a blonde! I began to wonder about the quote, and the truth of the sentiment behind it (which is by no means specific to that one blog). Did Hutch really tend to go for the blondes, and Starsky for the dark-haired women?

So like any sane person, I decided to spend a billion hours of my life making a long-ass photo-heavy meta post that hopefully someone will care about. If anyone actually finds this information interesting or useful I will be happy, buuut I guess if nothing else it gives us an excuse to look at a bunch of pretty ladies.

How did I decided who’s here: I started with the list of women from the Canon Compendium’s Girlfriends and Dates page, added anyone whom I felt the boys made a “concerted effort” to flirt with, and then threw out a few people I didn’t think belonged. I tried my hardest to be objective, but making this list was by no means an exact science and several times it really just boiled down to “do I personally believe she should be on here” so like people will have different opinions on that and it’s fine! Spice of life or whatever.

As for the actual contents of the list: I will state each woman’s name and the episode she’s in. (If she doesn’t have a name she’s listed as Jane Doe. This is a cop show, after all.) I will state her hair color-- for Reasons and also My Sanity the only options are “blonde” or “darkhaired” (not blonde), but hair color is fucking weird and sometimes it was a guess so feel free to think otherwise. I will also state the reason that she’s here, aka the nature of her relationship with Hutch or Starsky (or both)-- so spoiler warning for pretty much everything, I guess.

Also fair warning that sometimes I was too lazy to get a good picture, or it was just actually impossible (newsflash: discos have bad lighting). Rip to any women I may have made look bad, you’re all beautiful queens and I love you.

Pre-Show

Vanessa (Hutchinson Murder One)- Darkhaired. Hutch’s late ex-wife and all-around terrible person.

Laura Kanen (Deckwatch)- Blonde. Hutch’s ex-girlfriend.

Helen Davidson (Lady Blue)- Blonde. Starsky’s late ex-girlfriend.

Kathy Marshall (Fatal Charm)- Darkhaired. A stewardess friend of theirs; it’s never said she’s an ex BUT she kisses Hutch square on the mouth in greeting and is Starsky’s date for dinner/disco. And she dances with both of them. Good enough for me!

Season 1

Hutch

Jeannie Walton (The Fix)- Blonde. His girlfriend at the start of the episode but not by the end! (Rip king)

Molly (Pariah)- Darkhaired. Stewardess friend/one-night stand? Something like that. Also his date at the end.

Jane Doe (Deadly Imposter)- Blonde. His date at the party.

Abigail Crabtree (Deadly Imposter to Vendetta)- Blonde. The only girlfriend we see in several episodes!! (The only girlfriend that lasts several episodes, whoops.)

Starsky

Jane Doe (Pariah)- Blonde. His date at the end.

Jane Doe (Deadly Imposter)- Darkhaired. His date at the party.

Amy (The Hostages)- Darkhaired. She works at a café that he’s going to for a second time, to let her know he’s ~available.

Sharman Crane (Running)- Darkhaired. They had a semester of woodshop together in junior high and then they kind of fall in love while he’s helping her dry out.

Season 2

Hutch

Abby (Deadly Imposter to Vendetta)- Still blonde. Miraculously still his girlfriend. (Until she isn’t.)

Gillian Ingram (Gillian)- Blonde. His now-late girlfriend who fucking deserved better.

Jane Doe (Gillian)- Blonde. Lady at the bowling alley that Starsky discreetly tries to set him up with.

Christine (Starsky’s Lady)- Darkhaired. His date of the episode.

Starsky

Vicky (The Las Vegas Strangler)- Darkhaired. They don’t really get a chance to go on an official date but they kiss a bunch and he’s really sweet on her and it’s cute.

Andrea (Vendetta)- Darkhaired. His picnic date.

Nancy Rogers (Gillian)- Darkhaired. His bowling date.

Terry Roberts (Starsky’s Lady)- Darkhaired. His now-late girlfriend who, like Gillian, also fucking deserved better.

Laura Stevens (The Velvet Jungle)- Blonde. They’re on a date at the end, but it should also be noted they meet when she accidentally knocks him into a dumpster. You know, like the start of any good romance.

Sharon Freemont (Starsky and Hutch Are Guilty)- Blonde. His evil lawyer girlfriend. (Not that he knows she’s evil.)

Both

Jane and Bobette (The Vampire)- Jane is the blonde on the right, Bobette is the darker blonde on the left. Starsky and Hutch mix up their names so it’s hard to tell which girl they actually like better, and also they’re twins so like does it even really matter?

Officer Sally Hagen (The Specialist)- Darkhaired. Starsky kisses up her arm in her first scene (someone please file a workplace harassment suit against him), and then at the end he and Hutch keep wrapping their arms around her waist. But she does get to flip both of them over her shoulder, so it kinda evens out.

Season 3

Hutch

Dianna Harmon (Fatal Charm)- Darkhaired. His possessive, violent nurse girlfriend. (You can really pick ‘em, Hutchinson.)

Dr. Judith Kaufman (The Plague)- Darkhaired. He tries so hard, but twas not meant to be.

Molly Bristol (The Collector)- Darkhaired. His girlfriend du jour.

Anna Akhanatova (A Body Worth Guarding)- Blonde. He’s technically her bodyguard and then they spend like two whole days making out. Good for them.

Mary (Class in Crime)- Blonde. His fishing date.

Starsky

Jane Doe (Murder on Playboy Island)- Darkhaired. Undercover agent he flirts with at the bar.

Rosey Malone (I Love You Rosey Malone)- Blonde. The entire plot revolves around him falling in love with her and it really doesn’t end well.

Jane Doe (The Collector)- Darkhaired. His date at their late-night deli party. (Bonus Starsky in the picture, hi Starsky!)

Sharon Carstairs (The Heavyweight)- Blonde. Their canoodling on his couch gets interrupted by Important Case Matters, and she winds up getting re-engaged to her ex-fiancé (ex-ex-fiancé?). Rip to a king.

Rachel (Class in Crime)- Darkhaired. His fishing date.

Caitlin (Class in Crime)- Her hair almost has a red tint but it’s otherwise undefinable. Car saleslady/one-night stand.

K.C. McBride (Quadromania)- Blonde. They have a nice taxi date (although he’s been sleep deprived all episode, poor boy, and falls asleep).

Both

Christine Phelps (The Heroes)- Blonde. She makes them lose all their braincells, it’s painful to witness. This episode hopes you will forget the actress was Gillian last season.

Julie McDermott (The Action)- Blonde. Starsky wins the kerfuffle for her but Hutch definitely makes a good go of it.

Lisa Kendricks (Foxy Lady)- Blonde. They drool and fight over her for half an episode like they did with Christine and it’s embarrassing.

Season 4

Hutch

Paula (Photo Finish)- Darkhaired. He’s like her date at the party, and also the end.

Kate Larrabee (Cover Girl)- Darkhaired. An old friend of his. It starts out just as a comfort thing but they quickly become very friendly.

Marlene (Starsky’s Brother)- Darkhaired. Starsky steals her from Nicky as a Big Brother Power Move but Hutch winds up with her at the bar.

Marianne Owens (Ballad for a Blue Lady)- Darkhaired. I don’t really know what’s going on here but there’s Something (and there’s a lot of parallels with Rosey Malone, so).

Starsky

Sergeant Lizzie Thorpe (Discomania)- Blonde. Technically Hutch talks with her more, but Starsky does most of the flirting.

Jane Doe (Discomania)- Darkhaired. He spends literally five minutes dancing with her. Is it relevant to the case? No. Does he care? Also no.

Emily Harrison (Blindfold)- Darkhaired. He accidentally blinds her during a case so he starts hanging out with her out of guilt but I feel like he also kinda falls in love; they kiss at one point anyway.

Marcie Fletcher (Photo Finish)- Blonde. His photographer girlfriend.

Officer Dee O’Reilly (Strange Justice)- Blonde. His meter maid girlfriend. They have a date at the end!

Jane Doe (Dandruff)- Darkhaired. He’s making out with her at the beginning.

Detective Joan Meredith (Black and Blue)- Darkhaired. It’s Heavily implied they slept together. (Side note love u Meredith!)

Melinda Rogers (The Groupie)- Blonde. He has a date with her at the end. (Yeah she slept with Hutch, but he was undercover and proceeds to lowkey rebuff her in the tag, so I’m not counting it.)

Katie (Starsky’s Brother)- Blonde. His date at the nightclub.

Both

Allison May/Laura Anderson (Targets Without a Badge parts 2 & 3)- Darkhaired. They both try to court her before Starsky realizes she’s his childhood friend (although they do make another go of it in the tag).

Kira (Starsky vs Hutch)- Blonde. Starsky’s girlfriend, although she says she’s also in love with Hutch so then they sleep together which Starsky is NOT thrilled about and it’s a very ugly mess.

Totals:

Hutch:

Pre-show: 3 (1 blonde, 2 dark)   Season 1: 4 (3 blonde, 1 dark)   Season 2: 6 (4 blonde, 2 dark)   Season 3: 8 (5 blonde, 3 dark)   Season 4: 6 (1 blonde, 5 dark) Overall: 26 (13 blonde, 13 dark)

(If the math looks weird, it’s cause Abigail counts for both seasons she’s in but only once overall.)

Starsky:

Pre-show: 2 (1 blonde, 1 dark)   Season 1: 4 (1 blonde, 3 dark)   Season 2: 8 (3 blonde, 5 dark)   Season 3: 10 (6 blonde, 3 dark, 1 ??)   Season 4: 11 (6 blonde, 5 dark) Overall: 35 (17 blonde, 17 dark, 1 ??)

(Thirty-five?? Calm the fuck down, Starsky.)

  In conclusion:

“Exogamists, they are not” might have been true back at the end of season 1 when it was said, but it’s certainly not true by season 4/the end of the series. Hutch now seems to favor dark-haired women, and Starsky’s about half and half, although they both wind up with an equal split overall.

Do with that information what you will; I’m outta here.

[videcoeur]

OOC + Rules

Name: Julie

Nicknames: Julie or Vide

Age: 30+

Pronouns: Any but It

Orientation: Ace (sex positive)/demiromantic

Birthday: 05/09

Zodiac: Taurus

Timezone: EST (GMT-4)

RP Experience: 20+ years

Triggers: Suicide/SH (IRL only)

Squicks: Fat shaming

Important Note: 18+ only

MORE ABOUT ME

My native language is French (Canadian). Typos and mistakes in English are common. If that bothers you, I understand and wish you the best!

I work 40 hours a week and have several hobbies that I try to keep up with and severly fails.I Know Not™ what self restraint is so I have 300 fantrolls, 200+ fandomless ocs and several canon muses.

DESPITE MY PROFICIENCY AT CREATING NEW CHARACTERS, I PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY CANNOT MAINTAIN MORE THAN ONE BLOG.I CAN FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT WITH OVER 500 DIFFERENT PERSONALITIES BUT NOT 2+ BLOGS, SUE ME.

I’m usually super friendly and welcoming, but I don’t talk a lot. I struggle with social anxiety, so I’ll talk to you through tags but most likely won’t initiate convos on Discord and stuff. I don’t ignore/hate you, social interactions just drain me.

I aspire to become an author and have begun to write several stories, but work+rp+art is stealing 99 percent of my time. Maybe someday I’ll sit down to finish them. All you need to know about me is that I LOVE WRITING.

I would love to go on and on but uh I’m not super good at talking about myself. And now, onto the rules.

DNI

MINORS.

ANYONE WHO HAS SKEWED, NON-INCLUSIVE VIEWS TOWARD THE LGBT COMMUNITY.

RACISTS.

TRUMP SUPPORTERS (yes, even if he’s out of office, and yes it matters even if this is just fictional barbies we’re throwing at each other)

IRL PEDOPHILIA APOLOGISTS (People calling themselves MAP and/or saying pedophilia is the same as homosexuality, namely.)

COMPULSIVE/PATHOLOGICAL LIARS, SUICIDE BAITERS, MANIPULATORS.

PEOPLE WHO POST A CALLOUT A WEEK. I DO NOT PARTICIPATE IN CALLOUT CULTURE, UNLESS A CALLOUT IS BUILT ON SOLID EVIDENCE FOR REAL LIFE ILLEGAL SHIT.

I am not going to follow people who actively roleplay nsfw with underage muses for my own comfort in this space.  Also, don’t drag me in the anti/proship drama. 

If you really need my opinion about this: I don’t care what people do with their fictional barbies as long as it’s fictional. I am not comfortable with some topics, however, and don’t want them on my dash. I am never going to judge anyone for whatever they do in fiction.

General Roleplay Rules

Don’t feel obligated to pick a muse! If you don’t, I’ll pick one for you c: Just specify if you are interested in OCs or not in your ask, though, if you are a canon muse! If you specify no oc’s, I’ll pick a canon muse from your fandom if I have one available c: I am also SUPER THRILLED about crossovers and oc/canon interactions c:

No godmodding, no forced shipping, no killing unless discussed first, etc.

Mun =/= Muse

Don’t reblog asks for new roleplays, make a new post please! 

I rp on discord on demand. You have a direct link to my discord on the home page, but please, let me know before adding me.

I DON’T MIND ROLEPLAYING WITHOUT SPRITES/ICONS

I DO MIND GREATLY IF YOU USE AI OR FANART (without permission) for your icons. I will actually block you on sight for that. No form of art theft tolerated here.

I GREATLY PREFER PARAGRAPH/LITERATE ROLEPLAY to crack and one liners.

Good grammar is appreciated but English is not my native language so I’m not too picky. Just make sure you are readable.I usually give everyone a chance but I reserve the right to drop a roleplay/partner. I will politely notify you if that’s the case.

Shipping

I do not instaship nor do I do pre-established stuff. I just can’t. My muses are their own and will fuck up a perfect plotline no matter how much I want them to stay in their lane. I will try if we’re friends and you understand this might not work.

Due to past experiences that left me very uncomfortable, I will not practice ship exclusivity. If the thought of me being a multishipper bothers you, please do not attempt to ship with me. Thank you for understanding.

Triggers

There might be triggers appearing from time to time on this blog. Nsfw and triggers will be tagged/readmore’d. I do what I want, this is my adult blog in my adult space. Of course, if you want specific things tagged, let me know. I usually am pretty good with tagging, but if something I don’t tag need a tag, just ask/IM me about it.

PLEASE TAG IRL SUICIDAL POSTS, SELF HARM POSTS AND ANYTHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH SUICIDE IN GENERAL. I ALSO APPRECIATE TAGGING ANY DISCOURSE RELATED TO BODY SHAMING, BODY POLICING OR FETISHISTIC BODIES DISCOURSE WITH #BODYCOURSE, #JULIE DON’T LOOK, OR #VIDE DON’T LOOK. I MIGHT UNFOLLOW IF THESE THINGS ARE NOT TAGGED, FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH, AT LEAST UNTIL THE DISCOURSE IS OVER.

Following/Unfollowing/Blocking

IF YOU UNFOLLOW ME, I WILL UNFOLLOW YOU AS WELL.

Not out of spite, I just take it as a sign you are not interested in roleplaying with me and would rather keep my dash for mutuals! As a side note,

IF I BLOCK YOU DON’T BLOCK-EVADE TO ASK ME WHY I BLOCKED YOU.

I block for a multitude of reasons and I do not owe you an explanation. I block liberally and curate my experience, I encourage everyone to do the same. However, I don’t usually do that to people I’ve been interacting with for a while. I will always talk to someone first if something bothers me before blocking. If we never interacted and I block you…deal with it.

Drama & Callouts

If you have beef with someone, don’t include me in it UNLESS IT’S REAL LIFE DANGER LEVEL OF SERIOUS AND YOU CAN BACK IT UP.

Thank you for understanding.

Reblog Karma 

Changed my mind about this. I’m so little online that it really doesn’t matter anymore if you rb from me without sending anything. It used to bother me but not anymore considering I don’t have as much time as before to rp.

Interactions & Replies

Activity will vary according to my schedule. If it’s been more than a month since my last reply, feel free to notify me because sometimes it’s tumblr not showing me replies. I can take a while to reply though, fair warning.

Please do not flirt with me OOC, I’m happily taken and it kinda makes me uncomfortable.

ALL MY MUSES, EXCEPT HITOSHI SHINSO FROM BNHA, ARE 18+. Shinso also has a verse where he is 21 because I highly prefer roleplaying adult characters. The reason I age him up is not for NSFW, but because I am more comfortable thinking of my characters as adults. However, since he is underage in his canon, I will not be having any NSFW interaction with him, even in his adult verse.

ONE LAST RULE, IF YOU ARE A MINOR, PLEASE DO NOT FOLLOW ME.

I have nothing against you as a person, I would just prefer not to interact with someone who's over a decade younger than me. Just like a 30+ years old wouldn't hang with teens IRL, I don't do it online either. I also do not interact with people whose age (or adult status) is not indicated on their blog. To understand what I mean when I say no interaction with minors, please read THIS POST.

I don’t think I have any more rules. And I don’t have a password so if you are reading this, thank you for reading my rules!

[justgottafinishthischapter]

Building Character: Sorting Hat

So recently on my main channel, I started breaking down different kinds of people you’d find in the four houses of Hogwarts when it dawned on me that this could be a useful character building exercise. So, I’m going to lay out all 48 archetypes that I named and show how this can be used to outline a character.

The Sorting Process:

My method for sorting characters is to lay out all of the archetypes I’ve found in the Hogwarts Houses, and then compare to the traits of my characters and use a score sheet to determine the best sorting for a character. I’ve already made a score card here. Luckily, all four have been given the same number of archetypes, and now it’s time to meet the archetypes.

GRYFFINDOR

The Jock

Bold, confident, adventurous, and boasting a strong quidditch team, it’s no surprise that Gryffindor is viewed as the Jock clique of the four houses. The house values of determination and relentlessness makes for quality athletes. The stereotype of the brainless jock also persists, as Gryffindor is the house most likely to be considered less than impressive in the academic sphere. Jocks also tend to form close-knit bonds with others like them, just as lions move in prides, and Gryffindors tend to behave similarly, preferring to stick with large friend circles of their own kind. This archetype could just as easily be dubbed “The Frat Guy”, but Jock is more gender-inclusive.

The Brat

Time to rip the bandage off. Gryffindor is spoiled and pampered. Between the text itself and the author who wrote it, the general opinions of the fanbase, and the clear bias of the school staff, Gryffindor is painted as the best and favorite house. It hogs most of the spotlight, and there’s even a general consensus that the other houses are all inferior to golden favorite Gryffindor. This sense of self-importance, entitlement, and blatant unfair favoritism can give Gryffindors an unpleasant and arrogant ego. This can lead them to breaking rules, bullying, and belittling other houses due to this innate sense of superiority and impunity.

The Coward

Counter-intuitive as it might seem, cowards actually fit in nicely with Gryffindor. After all, bravery is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to rise above it. The story even frames this as the most noble kind of Gryffindor. Those who act in spite of their fears. Many of the major Gryffindor characters could easily have been in other houses, but instead chose to be brave.

The Champion

When Gryffindor is flavored with Hufflepuff, they can become a champion, someone who fights in the place of others. Someone who fights for those who cannot protect themselves. The Champion can also champion against something, such as fighting against inequality, tyranny, or corruption. They can even fight on their own behalf. This is simply an archetype not afraid to raise a fuss, call people out, and issue a challenge.

The Explorer

The Ravenclaw among Gryffindors, the Explorer is constantly seeking out new things. New places, new friends, new experiences. These are the Gryfindors who fear boredom or getting stale. Life is an adventure, and there’s no point living the same day twice. Even a bad experience is a chance to learn, grow, and explore something that they didn’t know before.

The Diva

The Slytherin variety, the Diva is proud, flamboyant, confident, and ostentatious. Whereas the Slytherin Star archetype chases fame because of ambitions, Divas have powerful personalities that command attention and recognition. Stars perform to rise to power and glory. Divas perform because it makes them happy to pursuit their passions. Even someone who doesn’t perform can still be a diva if they’re dramatic, over-react, and live for that tea. They can be temperamental, flighty, and a bit vain, but they’re made to entertain.

The Risk-Taker

Gryffindors aren’t known for planning head. They’re reckless, headstrong, and fly by the seat of their pants, and the Risk-Taker is no exception. They don’t let rules, traditions, or the risk of repercussions to stop them from doing what they want. They’ll take any dare, climb any mountain, and ignore any safety warning in the pursuit of thrills and adventure.

The Immature

Just as Ravenclaw’s wisdom can make it more mature and responsible, Gryffindor’s tendency to act without thinking about the consequences tends to cause Gryffindors to behave childishly, inappropriately, and stupidly. It’s no surprise that the house that loses points the most for breaking the rules, talking back to teachers, and childish pranks is the house whose values encourage irresponsible behavior.

The Genki

The Japanese subculture of Genki is characterized by an overzealous, energetic, and upbeat personality, one which is usually loud, outgoing, and talkative. They wear their hearts on their sleeve, and speak their mind openly. This zest of lively bubbliness is often viewed as charming and likable, which fits the image of the popular Gryffindor.

The Monarch

Gryffindors are often seen as the house of leaders and heroes. As the king the other houses follow and bow to. Leadership isn’t all just crowns and a fancy office. It involves making tough decisions and having the nerve to push yourself and others forward. The image of “The Good King” enforces the Gryffindor values of leading by example, and that just and moral leadership will produce a just and moral world.

The Popular

It’s no secret that Gryffindor is kind of the house of the Popular kids. Their friendly and social nature makes them people that others want to be around. While the Gryffindor ego can branch this archetype off into the Alpha Bitch and the Jerk Jock, the verdict still stands that the most popular people in Hogwarts are likely a part of this house. Even the house itself shares this popularity, as it is the most liked and often preferred of the four houses.

The Fool

The Prankster. The Class Clown. The Fool is someone who isn’t afraid to push the envelope to get a laugh. Gryffindors are unarguably the most social house, and that desire to impress and bond with others can compel them to stop at nothing to entertain themselves and others through their antics. However, they also tend to get in trouble for this behavior, and they have to be cautious: as sometimes the risk outweighs the humor, only making them a laughing stock, rather than a laugh riot.

HUFFLEPUFF

The Sidekick

Much as it stings, this House is a mass production house for sidekicks and comic relief characters to balance with the typically Gryffindor protagonist. Hufflepuff’s values of loyalty, friendship, and integrity make for very good friend characters. Hufflepuffs as the main character are pretty uncommon, mostly popping up as the support of the team. The healer, the defender, the plucky bard with an inspirational speech. But that loyalty and integrity is truly commendable, as they are some of the most dependable and trustworthy figures.

The Paragon

When “Too Good for This Sinful World” is taken literally, these characters have moral fibers so squeaky clean that they legally cannot say “fuck”. This archetype is the living embodiment of Lawful Good. These are the characters who play by the rules always. Who decry any action that means taking the low road. The Paragon comes in two different flavors depending on the tone. They’re either the one good person who win because they played fair and who people should strive to be like, or they’re the noble idiot walking right into a trap because they’re too naive to realize that they’re the only person playing by the rules.

The Heart

Some people can lie, cheat, and steal. Some are good at pretending they’re a different sort of person. But, not this Hufflepuff Archetype. They feel too often, too strongly, and too genuinely to pull off hiding how they feel. This archetype is a bit of an open book. What you see is what you get. That’s not to say that they never tell a lie, but they’re also more likely to come clean about it sooner or later just to get it off their chest.

The Hero

Although Hufflepuff is mostly a support house, occasionally, they get to play the lead. Most common in Shonen Anime, this Gryffindor/Hufflepuff hybrid archetype fights for what’s right because it’s the right thing to do. Think of this archetype as the White Knight. A crusader against injustice who fights with integrity and does so for the good of the people. They fight because somebody has to. Because they don’t want people to be afraid, alone, or injured. They strive to be a beacon that lights the way in dark times, and gives people something to hope for.

The Councilor

The Ravenclaw hybrid of Hufflepuff house, the Councilor is someone who helps others by listening to their problems and offering advice, guidance, or support in whatever capacity they can. They care about the well-being of others and offer themselves as a trusting confidante. They are gentle and reassuring, having the patience and open-mindedness to help others deal with their issues in a positive and healthy way.

The Entrepreneur

The Slytherin among Hufflepuffs, the Entrepreneur is someone who combines the hard-working work ethic of Hufflepuff with the ambition of Slytherin to be humble business owners. Their distinction from the Slytherin Workaholic is that Slytherins work to climb the corporate ladder. Hufflepuffs work because they love what they do and enjoy doing it. A less leader based sub-archetype is the worker bee, a hard worker who takes pride in doing a good job.

The Knight

The Knight is someone who is devoutly loyal to a cause or person. Their word is binding, and if they say they’re with you, they are with you, for better or worse. This also makes the Knight very easy to turn to the side of evil, as all it takes is swearing their loyalty to an evil person or cause for them to become a crusader for injustice and cruelty.

The Self-Righteous

Another Hufflepuff that can stray into villainy, a Hufflepuff can be a total villain if they mask their villainy behind a facade of being morally virtous.  The Self-Righteous is the embodiment of the religious extremist. Those who commit atrocities in the name of God, King, and Country, even if their God, King, or Country distinctly condemns such behavior. However, because they assume they are fulfilling the desires of something which is intrinsically righteous, that must make them automatically righteous as well.

The Puppy

The cinnamon roll. Sunshine personified. The Puppy is an upbeat optimist that generally sees the good in others. Like a newborn puppy they are excitable, friendly, eager to please, loyal, sweet, and happy. Some might say that they’re too optimistic, crossing the line into naive, gullible, or foolish. But the puppy’s optimism is often backed by a strong conviction and a desire to help that makes them much more resilient and strong-willed than people might assume. They make great friends as they’re always eager to help others in any way that they can, and even when upset with a person will usually look for a nicer way of airing their grievances with people.

The Peacekeeper

The Peacekeeper is someone who strives to help others live harmoniously. They break up fights, help people settle their arguments, and only fights to maintain peace. They are sensitive souls that can’t stand fighting, hostility, or bullying. They just want people to get along, and they’re willing to do what they can to make that happen.

The Caretaker

Hufflepuffs are very aware of other people. They’re the most socially intelligent house. This archetype is composed of those who take care of those around them. They’re the friends who remind others to take their medication, to ask them if they remembered to do their homework, or to make sure they’ve had something to eat. They care about the well-being of others, and will gently nurse, encourage, and support the people that matter to them. However, this archetype can also go so far that it needs itself, putting so much of their attention and time on taking care of others that they need someone to remind them that self-care is also important.

The Mundane

So many people focus on the fact that Hufflepuff is the house of modesty and loyalty that they tend to overlook that the house is also the catch-all house of students who don’t fit into the other three houses. So, this Archetype is for people who aren’t really exceptional in anything. They aren’t brave like Gryffindor, Wise like Ravenclaw, or Cunning like Slytherin. They’re the “normal” or “average” person. Someone who doesn’t come across as being important or impressive. But Helga Hufflepuff saw the value in accepting anyone as long as she had room at her table.

RAVENCLAW

The Nerd

The first thing we think of when we hear Ravenclaw, Nerds are walking encyclopedias with a treasure trove of facts and information. They tend to study because they enjoy learning. For them, school was fun, and the library is an important place. If the burning of the Library of Alexandria angers you, welcome home ya nerd.

The Geek

Nerds know facts, Geeks know pop culture. If you know what year the first issue of Superman comics was written, you’ve found your label. A geek lives for cosplay, fandom, conventions, shipping, fanfiction, and memorabilia. And they are not Nerds. Nerds and Geeks are different, but can overlap. However, you don’t have to know book smarts to be a Geek.

The Bookworm

Not all Ravenclaws are brainiacs. The Bookworm has a love for reading that is not directly tethered to book smarts. For this archetype, reading is a relaxing hobby.  It is often a trait among introverts, especially as a way to decompress, and they also tend be loners who prefer their quiet alone time.

The Valedictorian

Expect this archetype to have the highest grades, to be part of every club or organization, and has probably run for class president. A Ravenclaw with an undercurrent of Slytherin, they are ambitious in their intellectual pursuits. The main thing keeping them out of Slytherin house is their love of learning and knowledge which overshadows their ambition to achieve.

The Advocate

Just as the Valedictorian has elements of Slytherin, the Advocate has elements of Gryffindor. The advocate champions the rights of the underdog, stands up to hypocrisy, and points out logical fallacies in any argument. They hold up the light of truth and knowledge to combat ignorance and prejudice through their insight and knowledge.

The Dreamer

The Hufflepuff among Ravenclaws, The Dreamer is a Ravenclaw who believes in the inherit goodness of the world. These Ravenclaws may be seen as overly optimistic and naive, but this just speaks to Ravenclaw House’s knack for marching to its own beat, and standing out in a way that shows the house’s unique and open-minded world view.

The Scientist

Typically the standard “brain” of a team in fiction, most team brains tend to be nerdy in math and/or science, such as Pidge, Edd, and Entrapta. The Scientist is invested in scientific endeavors. They seek knowledge, but can easily be warped into the Mad Scientist, as characters like Lord Orochimaru, Rick Sanchez, and Shou Tucker cross the moral line as they perform inhuman experiments in pursuit of knowledge. They tend to value logic and the scientific approach, and will seek out evidence and statistics to reach a conclusion.

The Investigator:

Those who thirst for answers, The Investigator’s interest in knowledge is directly impacted by a desire to know and understand more. However, unlike the Scientist that may use this knowledge for personal gain, The Investigator prefers exposing the truth and uncovering the facts. They love cracking codes, solving riddles, unearthing secrets, and exposing the truth.

The Adult:

Ravenclaw is a house associated with wisdom, and with wisdom comes maturity, responsibility, and leadership. Expect these people to be mom friends and dad friends, offering advice, taking care of others, and typically being mature for their age, and wise beyond their years. They behave like an adult, even from an early age. They may get a bad wrap for being boring instead of young and reckless, but they are also sensitive, stable, and trustworthy.

The Creative:

Ravenclaws tend to think outside the box, and that wild imagination and intelligence tends to leak out as writing, painting, dancing, acting, and any other creative endeavor. Even those who lack the talent to be an artist themselves can still fall under this archetype if they appreciate and value the arts and creative acts.

The Unconventional:

Ravenclaw is known for being a little odd. Ravenclaws revel in their unusual eccentricities. They’re fine marching to the beat of their own drum. A bit of a nutty genius, artists like Salvadore Dali, David Bowie, and Mozart are known for being unusual. Entire artistic movements like cubism, avaunt guard, and club kid fashion follow this zany mindset.

The Cloudcuckoolander:

Separate from the Unconventional, the Cloudcuckoolander is someone whose mind is a strange and unusual thing to outsiders. They come off as almost being detached from reality, their head in the clouds, and seeming odd in their mannerisms. People tend to treat them as delusional or crazy, but they show themselves to be strangely insightful into others.

SLYTHERIN

The Mastermind:

Exemplified by a ruthless pursuit of power, the Mastermind treats situations like a game of chess, always plotting to give themselves the upper hand. They are cunning, ruthless, and goal-oriented, usually with an emphasis on control, dominance, and authority. They usually gravitate toward leadership positions and can be very skilled at getting others to comply with their wishes. This archetype is usually seen in villains like Regina Mills, Princess Azula, and Cersei Lannister. However, occasionally, this archetype gets to be seen in a better light with characters such as Daenerys Targaryen. And sometimes it’s played for laughs, such as with Brain and Plankton’s plans for world domination.

The Perfectionist:

This ambitious go-getter is characterized by a strong drive to be exceptional in everything they do. These are the characters who strive for the highest accolades, the top marks, and mastering anything they put their mind to. Often either a cry for validation or as a means to pursue their ambitions, this type of Slytherin is all about standing out by rising above the rest. They are driven by a desire to be their best self, and they’ll work themselves ragged to hold themselves to that high standard.

The Workaholic:

Tangentially related but distinct from the last archetype, the Workaholic is someone who basically treats their entire life like a business or a job. They have a planner loaded to the brim with a schedule that always keeps them moving, and leaves very little time for other things and people unless they can manage to pencil them in somewhere. These ambitious folks are very likely to succeed in life, but their social lives tend to suffer as a result.

The Detective:

Often mistaken for Ravenclaws, or straddling the line as Slytherclaws, The Detective archetype of Slytherin is someone who studies and learns things not for the simple joy of learning as true Ravenclaws do, but more often for the challenge, thrill, or to get what they’re after. This archetype views knowledge as a vital tool and weapon in their endeavors. Even if they enjoy learning, the knowledge they seek out is specifically related to what they are trying to accomplish.

The Tactician:

Like the Detective that teeters on the Ravenclaw line, the Tactician tends to straddle the line with Gryffindor. They can be brave, heroic, and reckless, but this archetype’s main distinction from a Gryffindor is their Slytherin tendencies. Whether they’re ambitious, clever, or strategic, they lack the brute force simplicity of a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor will rush in guns blazing, while a Slytherin knows the value of a sneak attack. Heroes like Percy Jackson, Link, and Katsuki Bakugou make full use of their cunning in the heat of a battle, looking for weakspots, analyzing the battlefield, and always willing to find a pragmatic solution to whatever they come across.

The Sincere:

The archetype to bleed over into Hufflepuff, this archetype is blunt, direct, and doesn’t sugar coat things. They are brutally honest. This can come across as mean and unsympathetic. But, even if it seems like they’re just dumping salt in the wound, it just means that they don’t pretend. They can be depended on to give the whole truth no matter how much it might sting. They might openly mock their friends, but when someone needs them, they can be depended on to give the most genuine feedback. And when things look bleak, this is a friend that can usually be relied on to offer their support. And if someone is too weak or scared to fight for themselves, The Sincere is the kind of friend who’s not afraid to get their hands dirty on someone else’s behalf.

The Charmer:

Ever aware of their public image, the Charmer is a Slytherin whose ambitions are met not through power, but through playing the social game. Experts at winning people over, these Slytherins can be just as ambitious and clever as any other. However, they choose instead to recruit and convince people to follow them and do their bidding with their charms and communication skills. They’re good at arguing their case, and speaking in such a way that people feel compelled to help them. This archetype often masquerades like they’re one of the other houses, especially Hufflepuff. But don’t let their charms fool you. They’re as Slytherin as they come.

The Rebel:

The Rebel is a Slytherin who much like Gryffindors view rules as more of a suggestion than anything else. They’re just trying to have fun and enjoy life, and rules tend to get in the way of that. Often pranksters, couch potatoes, or troublemakers, The Rebel tends to balance between being misunderstood and actual delinquency. However, their rebellious nature can drive them to question old norms and traditions and try to view the world in a new way. Their refusal to bow to old paradigms can mean that Rebel archetypes are champions for change and growth, for better or worse.

The Star:

A primadonna through and through, The Star archetype is one whose ambitions are focused directly on fame. All of their ambition and hard work is all in pursuit of that loftiest goal: the fleeting spotlight of celebrity. Whether they want to take Hollywood by storm, receive a standing ovation at center stage, or go viral on the internet, this archetype is determined to be in the spotlight and make a name for themselves. They can be divas, and may even be competitive with other performers, but it’ll all be worth it when they receive accolades for all of their talent and accomplishments.

The Rogue:

The Black Sheep. The dark knight. The Rogue is the typical anti-hero. Skirting the line between hero and villain, the Rogue is a pragmatist, able and willing to do what needs to be done without letting morality or personal feelings get in the way. Cynical, snarky, mean-spirited, and roguishly charming, the Rogue isn’t quite a bad guy, but being good does not mean being nice. Like The Sincere, The Rogue is unabashedly themselves, and lives earnestly.

The Survivalist:

The Slytherin mindset is one known for being pragmatic. A Slytherin will do what they must to get ahead. The Survivalist embodies this practical approach to problems, being flexible and adapting to situations in order to gain the upper hand. The Survivalist can be someone who survives in the wild, but it can also be someone whose loyalty, opinions, strategy and behaviors can easily change and adapt to new situations in order to thrive. They can thrive in a fast-paced high-stakes situation, and can usually improvise very well should their plans suddenly change. This ability to quickly adapt to circumstances makes this one type of Slytherin that’s hard to knock down.

The Competitor:

Fans of reality shows know that some of the greatest players are also some of the most diabolical and cut-throat. Evel Dick and Danielle were a wicked power duo in Big Brother 8, and Dan got 1st and 2nd in Big Brother 10 and 14 respectively. Slytherin and Gryffindor can both get competitive, but they play in different ways. Slytehrins are far more pragmatic, and have less of a problem lying to someone’s face to get ahead. These tactics, while underhanded, are great game moves. Dan hosting his own funeral in season 14 is still regarded as one of the most brilliant plays in Big Brother history because of how completely he flipped the power in the house. The Competitor can be a total monster, but they also tend to be monstrously entertaining.

Now that I’ve laid out the archetypes, I can start evaluating my characters. Looking over my protagonist, I’m pretty sure he’s a Ravenclaw, but let’s put the character to the sorting hat’s test. My character would fit into: [Gryffindor] -The Monarch [Hufflepuff] - the Heart - the Councilor - the Peacekeeper - the Mundane [Ravenclaw] - the Nerd - the Geek - the Bookworm - the Advocate - the Dreamer - the Adult - the Creative - the Unconventional [Slytherin] - the Perfectionist - the Charmer So this matches what I assumed, that he was a Ravenclaw main, and a Hufflepuff secondary, but I didn’t realize how far he was from being a Gryffindor or Slytherin. So his ratio chart would look like this:

While it’s not hard to sort characters, some aren’t always as clear-cut and I hope this writer’s aid helped you better define your character’s traits.

[simple-heroics]

Momo Yaoyorozu Fluff Alphabet | Part 2 | Letters M-Z

 Guys, I love her so much. This took awhile to finish but here it is! Read Part 1 here.

credit to creator of the fluff alphabet prompt list here

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

In a word…yes.

However, Momo never dreamed of marriage as a little girl nor did she ever feel like she needed marriage - or any relationship - to be happy. She has her family, friends, a fulfilling career, tea, and other passions (i.e advocacy, fundraising, etc.) to keep her busy. 

Momo doesn’t date to get married or because she’s lonely or needs another person to feel complete. She dates you because she loves you. She marries you because she wants to spend the rest of her life with you. (Oh, and the legal benefits. One of which is that threats against spouses of various federal employees is a federal crime. Including pro heroes. Don’t fuck with Creati’s baby :) :)  She will use every possible way to ruin a person’s life forever if they come after you.)

Basically, YOU make HER want to get married. And you bet your ass she’s gonna put a ring on that.

Forget about “stimulating the economy” and that trickle down economics bull shit. Momo is making your ring - a symbol of YOUR LOVE - herself, and only the best of the best for you. She spends hours researching designs, meanings of various gemstones, the durability of metals. All the “samples” she makes are a small fortune in and of herself.

When she proposes, Momo takes you to a botanical garden - the same one you both went to on one of your first dates. Literally rents the entire place out. While you walk around, you start to get nostalgic just as she hoped and reminisce. 

Holding your hands, Momo talks about the first time she saw you, her favorite memories, how you’ve made her so happy. She tells you how you’ve changed her and helped her grow as a person, how everyday has been such a blessing.

Then she makes the ring, right then and there, for you. Softly, reverently, she asks, “Can we spend the rest of our days together like this?”

Marriage actually makes Momo much more comfortable with PDA. Whereas before she would only go as far holding your hand, now she presses loving kisses to your face and strokes your hair and is in general at least 20% more touchy. Marriage gives her a sense of security and - in a weird way - “propriety”. It’s one thing to lovey dovey with a datemate in public; it’s another to be affectionate with one’s spouse.

Oh, yeah. She loves the sound of it. Whenever your name comes up, it’s always “my spouse, y/n” or “y/n, my spouse”. It just makes her so giddy to say.

The feeling’s mutual of course. Anytime Creati is on TV, kicking ass or looking so pristine in an interview, you’re like:

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Momo is full of sweet, doting nicknames: darling, my love, dear, dearest, beloved. These are usually accompanied by a kiss on your hand or temple. 

All in private, though. You’d have to take her by surprise with a sudden visit to the office or it’d have to be an intensely emotional situation for Momo to call you those sweet names in public.

But Momo doesn’t need to call you a pet name in public for people to know who you are to her. Just the soft, almost reverent way she says your name - practically cooing it - says it all. Everyone knows that you’re her darling even if she doesn’t outright call you it in public.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Okay, so this is gonna be a little contradictory but…I see Momo as being both the most relaxed she’s ever been in her life and more focused than she’s ever been before.

You teach her that it’s okay to be herself and not this image of her “best self” she always has in her head. You make her feel safe enough to be let go of her perfectionism and accept her enough that she gradually drops one insecurity after another. She can be messy around you. She can be loud or quiet or giggly or grouchy or literally anything else. She’s just Momo with you.

Finally with some kind of outlet, the explicit permission to be free, it’s like watching an entire lifetime of tension slip away. 

But….because you make her feel this, so happy and light and free, Momo is overwhelmed with gratitude and love that it kind of kicks itself in reverse. She has to be absolutely perfect for you.

And it can become a cycle. Not a great one, either. So please keep in check with each other and help balance yourselves out. Please. She just wants to make you the happiest person on earth which - in her view - is hard because you already do that for her.

Like I briefly touched on above and will even more so below, it’s Very Clear that Momo Yaoyorozu is in love. People who have known her for years have never seen her happier nor have her own colleagues ever seen her so…intense.

Because Momo has a very solid, very real reason to make it through missions waiting for her at home. She has a precious person to make the world a safer place for now. She was absolutely dedicated before but now? Now it’s personal.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Given Momo’s upbringing, the answer to most of these is no. Definitely not. Not only is Momo shy about PDA but she was taught that doing so is disrespectful to people around you and even your significant other. Japanese etiquette only affirms this. The most you can expect from your girl is holding hands or linking arms while you walk around.

That doesn’t mean Momo stops touching you in public. In fact, sometimes it’s like she can’t keep her hands off you but her affection is expressed in small, subtle touches disguised as helpful gestures.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, straightening your collar, dabbing the corner of your mouth, brushing imaginary lint off your shoulder. 

As for bragging…Momo doesn’t necessarily “brag” about you. But she does talk about you. A lot.

Out with a friend? “S/o said hi!” Doing paperwork? “S/o got me this pen.” Eating dinner with a colleague? “I should bring s/o here.”

Momo absolutely adores you. Even though she doesn’t go shouting this to the word, it shines in the little things.

The biggest giveaway? The way she looks at you with those bright, shining gray eyes. 

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship. I just love this prompt for BNHA imagines.

Momo has a lot of secret talents that you’re always discovering at random. Her parents put a lot of thought and care into their only daughter’s upbringing, especially her education, and it shows. Your favorite so far?

Her dancing.

And it’s not like Ashido’s dancing or really many people your age. I am talking classical ballroom, mostly for the sake of those fancy banquets and soirees that the Yaoyorozus often attended. Momo knows how to elegantly through a ballroom as well as she does in the field. 

But that’s not what you’re interested in. It’s the quiet, private part of your lives where’s it’s just the two of you in your home. No one else, no demanding tasks, no where to be. Just you and some lo-fi music.

Momo will gently take you in her arms and sway you around the room. And this is where you see her at her most relax, taking one of those skills hammered into her from a young age and just…letting go of all the rules. She makes it her own and just moves fluidly to the music, taking her with you.

Catch me when I swoon.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Extremely romantic! Didn’t I tell you that she’s doting? And affectionate? And absolutely mesmerized by you?

And looord, does she know how to treat you.

As she grew up without want for any tangible object in the world, Momo is not a gift giver. Love, to her, is expressed in the time you spend with a person. This leads to fun weekend trips, surprise visits on lunch breaks, concerts, you name it. 

Momo always finds a way of incorporating a little personal touch into the most cliché of clichés and making them entirely your own thing.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

You have been nothing but supportive of her pro hero career - one that demands so much from Momo and by extension your relationship with her. And Momo is READY to support you in any way she can.

This girl legit researches and creates an entire long term plan on how you can achieve your goal, whatever it may be. School-related? Hello, Momo-sensei. Fitness goal? She goes to the gym and exercise with you, encouraging you the entire way. Artistic goal? Oh, what a coincidence. That random gallery owner happens to be a friend of her mother’s!

You maaaay have to pace her a little bit. She believes in you wholeheartedly but needs to be reminded that they’re your goals and you’re the one working towards them. Not necessarily you and your enthusiastic girlfriend. 

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Momo has a high risk job where people’s very lives are at stake. For god’s sake, she was thrown headfirst into danger in her first two weeks of high school with USJ incident and it’s just been one thing after another ever since.

Give her a routine. Give her that calming domestic bliss. 

Seriously. It’s crucial for your relationship and Momo’s own mental health that she has some sort of routine with you. Routine is comforting; routine provides a sense of security and safety. For that, Momo sets some serious boundaries between her personal life - with you specifically - and work. 

You won’t be going on skydiving dates or anything with Momo. But you will wish each other good night every night, whether you’re in each other’s arms in bed or phone when she’s away or even just text if she’s on a stakeout. It’s these little, consistent things that make your relationships so strong.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Part of the way Momo shows her love is learning you and everything about you. She’s spent hours dedicated to studying and now she studies you. It’s likely that she knows you better than you know yourself.

She knows everything about you: your favorite food, your hobbies, your goals, where you were born, who your best friend in high school was, everything. 

She collects every piece of information about you, always listening and observing, and holds it close to her heart.

That said…and don’t hate me for this…but Momo isn’t the most empathetic person. Of course she’s kind and caring and an overall lovely person. But she is a person who follows things by steps, who uses logical thinking to predict people. Sometimes she gets so wrapped up in her line of thinking that she…misses out on the emotional side. 

You’re probably the more empathetic person in this relationship, trusting your instincts and just letting yourself feel out situations while Momo tries to think her way through them. Both have their pros and cons, and it honestly teaches each of you a lot about each other.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Momo’s a busy woman. If she takes the time and energy to not only enter but maintain a relationship with you, you mean the absolute world to her.

And she reminds you of that every. single. day.

However…Momo is a selfless person. She gives a lot in the relationship and to you but to her, it’s not a necessity (close, though) but an indulgence. She sees herself as selfish for keeping you in her life, ever aware of the dangers of dating a high-ranking pro hero. She sometimes thinks of herself as selfish by staying with you, loving you, as she does.

Her worst fear is that you’ll suffer for her “selfishness” or be used against her in some way. Or worse still…that she’ll be forced into a situation where she’ll have to choose between you and her duty as a hero, between saving you or the public.

Even Momo doesn’t know which she would choose. She prays she’s never, ever put in the situation where she would have to make such a terrible choice.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

You know that one cool couple who is always hosting fun get-togethers with friends? Like, there are all of these monthly hang outs and yearly traditions that literally everyone in the squad looks forward to every year?

That’s you guys. 

Momo LOVES playing hostess and you know how to have fun. Seriously, you’ve expanded Momo’s world beyond posh banquets and afternoon tea and she adores you for it. You host regular hot pots. Movie nights. Brunches. Beach days. White elephant parties. Every year there’s a cake baking competition with a golden whisk as the prize along with a full 365 days of bragging rights. (Bakugo, who didn’t even want to come, won it last year and will die before giving it up. Nobody cares who wins the golden whisk next year as long as it’s not that gremlin.)

Y’all know how to throw a party.

Probably of one the best things about this relationship is that you’re not in a “couple only” bubble. You cherish your other relationships, and it shows in how you often include others in your lives. :)

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Doting. Doting is the exact word that comes to mind when I think of Momo and affection. Almost immediately after meeting you, Momo was just so achingly fond of you and those feelings simmered for loooong while before the confession finally happened.

Now she just can’t help herself.

If she’s not playing with your hair, she kissing your fingers. If she’s not doing that, she’s hugging you. If it isn’t a hug, it’s a full on cuddle session where she kisses your face and holds your hand and murmurs sweet affections and -

Yeah. Momo restrains herself in public to subtle, sweet gestures but once your alone? She makes up for lost time.

Her favorite is leaving soft, delicate kisses on your temple after tucking your hair behind your ear and whispering how much she adores you.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Momo keeps incredibly focused and on task at work. But as soon as it gets quiet and she’s alone…she yearns. She pines. She sighs. And she video chats you.

She does a very good job of staying in touch and communicating when you’re separated for any reason. Like I mentioned above, Momo always wishes you good night. And good morning. No matter what. 

Please send Momo encouraging texts throughout her long, hard day. Please send her cute pictures. Please tell her love just because and tell her you can’t wait to see her again. It’s those little things that get her through missing you.

On a more angsty note…Momo worries about you. A lot. She has actual nightmares about something bad happening to you - being held hostage for ransom, a villain looking to get revenge against Creati, you getting caught up in a random public attack and her being unable to save you. These nightmares are at their worst when she’s away from you. The longer the separation, the more vivid and terrible they are. There have been times that she’s called you in the middle of the night just to hear your voice - the only thing that can calm her pounding heart and soothe her enough to go back to sleep. 

So while she keeps in close constant because she does miss you a lot, Momo also does so to give herself some peace of mind. She needs to know you’re okay.

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Y E S. Oh, my god, yes. Momo would do anything for you.

Sometimes, it honestly scares Momo how much she would do for you. She’s always been a dedicated person, a true perfectionist that approaches everything with well thought out strategy. She does things by steps. She’s the woman with a plan. 

Then you came along and her whole universe imploded, forming a whole new one in the dust of her past and creating something new and unfamiliar and beautiful and terrifying.

So much so that even Momo doesn’t know her own limits anymore - not when it comes to you. She had lines before, boundaries, places she would not go. But with you? God only knows what she wouldn’t do for you.

Momo doesn’t like to linger too long on what kind of incredible, possibly terrible things she would do for you if pushed. But she promises herself that she’ll do everything in her power to keep it from coming to that.

[sephspark]

In Golden Light

A/N: There’s no lore here. There’s no plot here. There’s not even song lyrics. I literally dreamed this entire fic and then decided to write it down because I was SAD I didn’t get to finish telling Dream!Damien his bedtime story. Also because we’re living in a goddamn plague, I’ve written at least 50k of tragedy and trauma navel-gazing, I have earned this self-indulgent fluff. Thank you.

Warnings: slight unreality [it’s established that this is a dream sequence], alcohol

Ships: MayorAttorney, Celine/Mark

It is Christmas Eve, 1929.

This is a life that could have been. This is a world that will never be. This is a dream, a beautiful lie, but for a moment, it is joy incarnate.

This is a life where there is no dark thing stalking the halls of the Barnum manor, no shadows waiting to collect on ambiguous debts, no gaps between worlds for children to fall through. There is no thousand-eyed abyss that twists Mark into a mockery of its own monstrousness. There is no memory-eating void that takes and takes from William until he forgets how to be. There are no hissing whispers that dig into Tess’s skin until she becomes a caricature of herself.

It is a year after a poker party that never came to pass, because this is a life without the ugliness of scandal, without Celine’s unhappiness, without heartbreak and pain.

Celine is seated in one of the overstuffed armchairs they’ve dragged into the parlor, her shoes discarded with her stockings and her legs pulled up beneath her. There is a glass of red wine on the table beside her. It is not her first, and she can feel the rush of it starting to crawl through her limbs and make her sleepy. She imagines, half-drunk, that Mark will either have to leave her to sleep in the chair or carry her up to their room. She thinks she’ll insist that he do so. If he can’t, it will at least be funny to watch, and she has earned a good laugh at her husband’s expense.

It is only the five of them (Celine, Mark, Damien, William, and Tess) left in the manor now; even Benjamin, the chef, and George have been sent home for the holidays (Tess insists upon it; she remembers too many Christmases spent without her mother). But the walls are still covered in streamers and decorations, and there are still fallen balloons scattered across the floor.

The day before, they’d hosted the Barnums’ annual Christmas charity ball. With William’s parents visiting relatives, it had been the first year Celine had organized the damn thing as the “lady of the house”. It had gone off wonderfully, she’d been praised to the high heavens for it by the same housewives who gossiped about her behind their fans, and she’d at least cemented Mark’s status in society for another year.

In reality, of course, Tess had dragged her through it with white-knuckles, while Damien brought them both whatever confections they requested while they poured over guest lists. There was something to be said, Celine thought, about having the mayor for a brother and the district attorney for a sister-in-law. Although she didn’t know how the two of them had managed to dodge their hosting duties for another year.

It doesn’t matter; the past is past, and now Celine can get horribly drunk on expensive wine, and go back to terrorizing society ladies by offering to read their cards.

Mark stands at the bar, sipping on the same flute of champagne he’s had in his hand for the last hour. Everyone else is polite enough to pretend like they don’t notice. It isn’t that his sobriety would be an issue--Tess is terrorizing William behind the bar, challenging him to make more and more complicated virgin versions of drinks. It’s more that, even among the people who love him best, he does not like the concept of being out of control.

He loves the spotlight. It keeps him in money, and it makes him happy. But he thinks that this is all he really needs, at the end of the day: his wife, eyes droopy with sleep and a soft smile on her face, curled up in her favorite chair. Tess and William, ribbing each other, the way they always did as children, occasionally calling his name to mediate whatever nonsense argument they’ve gotten themselves into.

When he looks over this time, William has left a dollop of whipped topping on Tess’s nose, and though she’s called for a referee, she’s valiantly attempting to lick it off while laughing. Mark shakes his head and looks away--he’s not getting involved with that one.

He’s in between films at the moment. Underneath the tree is a present with Celine’s name on it. She’ll open it in the morning, find two plane tickets inside: New Orleans. They’ve been before, but he knows she’d like to go again. They’ll leave the manor in William’s care (or, really, Benjamin’s) while they’re gone, and enjoy a well-earned vacation after all the anger Celine suppressed while playing hostess. He’s happiest when she is happiest.

William is tending bar all night--it’s his designated role when they have these little get-togethers. Usually, he foists the worst concoctions he can think of upon his friends, terrible things that he learned from friends in the army when they needed to get drunk and didn’t have much at hand. One year, the “winner” of his nightmare mixes was declared to be “only suitable as car fuel” by Damien, the schmuck unlucky enough to choose it from the tray of shot glasses.

He likes the bar for another reason: it puts his back to the wall. It’s not a thing he’s consciously aware of anymore, but he likes to be able to see the entirety of a room through his crooked glasses. Likes to know what’s behind him. Likes to ignore the tremor the war left in his hands. It’s been a decade; he’s talked about it, in pieces, with Tess, and it has helped. But there are still ghosts that linger, even in this world without shadows.

He knows the others are watching their drunken feet to keep from popping any of the half-deflated balloons on the floor so that they don’t startle them. He appreciates it in a way he’ll never speak out loud. Instead, he leans across the bar with a napkin to wipe the topping off of Tess’s nose, only to be swatted away while she insists she’ll do it herself.

He’s sampling his own creations tonight, since Tess is being stubbornly sober and instead insisting on virgin drinks. He misses, sometimes, the nights they’d get drunk together, when she was in university and trailing Damien to every party on campus. But she has become respectable. Gotten herself elected to office. Finally married Damien, after a lifetime of pining for one another. William’s father gave her away at the wedding, and William vehemently denies ever crying when he saw her in her wedding dress.

William is still between careers. He imagines he always will be. He’s got his family money to fall back on, to fund his travel. He’s at least stopped chasing thrills. When he travels, it’s because there’s a job at the other end of it for him; private security things, mostly, but he knows what he’s good at. It worries Tess. He promises her he’ll be safe. He’ll have to promise her that in the morning, but at least he will be able to do it with the letter he’s tucked into her gift beneath the tree: it is a scarf from Paris. He can imagine her tying it over her hair while she drives.

Tess is...Tess is. She started off drinking virgin daiquiris, and she’s not sure what she’s onto now, other than it involved William swearing quite colorfully. She is in a comfortable nightgown, which isn’t unusual at these family gatherings; she simply doesn’t see the point of dressing up for the people who know her best. She has to perform in court and in her offices every day of her life. She gets to be a carefree child again here at Christmas.

In the end, of course, she wipes the topping off of her nose and licks it from her thumb while William isn’t looking. She’s tried her best to lick it off of her nose, to no avail, and she’s certainly not going to call for Mark to come mediate again. A quick glance at him reveals that he is kneeling in front of Celine, talking to her gently with a doting smile on his face, and Tess quickly looks away. It makes her happy to see him happy--she can barely remember those days when she felt jealous of their joy.

She has everything she ever dreamed of, when she laid in bed and dreamed of a future she thought could not be. These moments are all that matter.

Yes, in the morning, she will have to rouse Damien from his hangover and drive the pair of them home after opening presents. In a few days, she will have to return to her office to deal with the post-holiday build-up. At some point, she and Damien will have to have a serious talk about their work; there is trouble coming to the city, and they can both see it. There are a million things to worry about. But for now--for now she can sit at the bar, drinking some combination of orange juice and limes that is certain to burn her stomach, and smile at her brothers.

“Hey,” Mark says from behind her, gently putting his hand on her shoulder. “It’s almost midnight. Do you want to go get him, or should I?”

She laughs. “I’ll do it. No promises, though.”

And she stands, stretches, and leaves to find her husband.

Damien has forgotten that he is not eighteen anymore, and that his tolerance for alcohol does in fact have a limit. He’s also forgotten, somehow, how dangerous it is to take a drink from William without questioning it. It’s a mistake he makes every year, to the point where Tess suspects it is not a mistake at all.

Either way, he had been the first to lose himself in the drink, and thus the first to be put to bed in a dark spare room on the first floor. She’d stumbled him in there herself, his arm slung across her shoulder and his legs barely working to help her, while Mark and William muffled their laughter behind their hands. Damien’s been sleeping (she hopes) for the better part of two hours.

But it is almost midnight, and there is a tradition: they watch the clock turn to midnight together, all of the Barnums in one room, and tell each other “Merry Christmas” as soon as the last chime has struck. In hindsight, she thinks it was a way to make the children feel special, to let them stay up past their bedtimes--though they very rarely made it without naps. It certainly kept them asleep well into the next morning, when they finally collapsed in their beds sometime around 12:30, and she imagines it afforded the Barnums and her own mother plenty of extra time to put their presents from Santa Claus into position.

They still stay up til midnight, though it seems less magical with adulthood. She doesn’t want Damien to miss it. He’ll whine if he does, apologize until she wants to pinch his cheek and stop him.

The bedroom is still dark. Damien is a nondescript lump on the bed. She considers, briefly, turning on the lights, and then decides against it.

She sits beside him and rests her arm on his side. His back is to her. He grumbles in a way she knows too well; asking for more time. No doubt he thinks she’s come to wake him up for a meeting.

Tess leans over to trace a line up his nose, between his brows, and draw a circle on his forehead with the pad of her finger. A morning ritual. She can’t remember when she started doing it, or why, only that it’s what she needs to do in this moment. It’s what she’s supposed to do.

“It’s time to wake up,” she whispers, trying to be mindful of the headache she’s sure he’s already feeling.

More grumbling, though his eyes at least crack open to look up at her. He sighs and turns his face towards the warmth of her hand, like he’s trying to burrow into her.

“Tell me a story,” he mumbles.

She laughs. “A story?”

“Mm-hm.”

She can hear Mark calling her name from down the hall. She might miss midnight with the others. She doesn’t want to yell down and tell him that she doubts she’ll be able to get Damien up in half an hour, let alone a quarter. But she can tell him a story.

“Okay. Once upon a time, there was a young girl with two older sisters--”

Damien takes her wrist, gently, trying to shake his head. “Nooooo. Not that one.”

He’s never objected to Beauty and the Beast before. Tess pauses for a moment, tries to think; there are only a few stories she knows by heart, but she can always try to invent one. They will certainly miss midnight. She thinks it’s okay. She thinks this is okay. She thinks--she feels like she should be crying, though she doesn’t know why.

She takes a deep breath, and she begins again.

[ramshacklefey]

I’ve seen a couple posts about not having enough time outside work to enjoy life, and I have a theory about where this problem came from. See, until relatively recently in human history, fulfillment (or entertainment or relaxation or however you want to classify it) wasn't a goal by itself for most people. There were two reasons for this.

One is that we were generally much more concerned with survival in a direct way: Farming, caring for livestock, engaging in crafts to benefit the community etc.

The other reason is much bigger: The kind of fulfilling engagement that people are desperate for now used to come from daily labor. Being a farmer or a smith or a weaver involves a lot of boring drudgery, but it's also labor that gives you a direct, tangible result. It's self-regulated. You can sing or tell stories to the people around you while you work. You can linger over your midday meal and watch the clouds, chat with a friend, or take a moment to work on something you like doing for fun. Your work is your own, not just in the sense of you owning the product, but in the sense that you can put some personality into it. There can be idiosyncrasies to how you operate.

Industrialization changed that. Division of labor has been essential to humanity being able to gain material stability, because it increases efficiency. If I farm and you weave, we both get more done. When efficiency becomes its own end, labor becomes so divided as to be meaningless. When labor turns humans into literal cogs in a machine, there is no engagement with it any more. There’s no more talking or singing while you work, and your midday meal becomes a grudging allowance. Your individuality disappears because each thing produced has to be identical to the others. You work in a boring grey office. When was the last time you heard a group of co-workers singing together while they worked? Conversation only happens in hurried snatches while no one’s looking, usually whispered. If your office isn’t boring and grey, it’s because someone did some research and proved it would raise your efficiency to have desks pushed together like grade-schoolers. You enjoying it more is only a factor insofar as it makes you work faster.

The obsession with efficiency has gotten into everything. I worked as a janitor for a while. Instead of each person having responsibility for one or two buildings on campus, we were divided by tasks. Person 1 did bathrooms, person 2 mopped, etc, because it had been decided that the time it took to switch between made us too inefficient. You didn’t get to feel some ownership for keeping a building in good shape, you were a floor mopping machine. You didn’t even get to really feel like a team, because the other people working were in different parts of the building, doing different things. Pacing your work to stay near someone and chat was a waste of time.

It was the same when I worked in retail, which so many of us are familiar with. There was no standing still and talking between customers. If there wasn’t a customer in the store, you were restocking, cleaning, or finding some busywork to do. Heaven help you if you were seen just standing there, and gods forbid you take a moment between customers to doodle in a sketchbook or write down a story idea. You’re working with a skeleton crew, so it feels like you’re always running to catch up. In a big chain, you don’t even get to design displays or decide what items to carry. Hell, in the pharmacy I worked in, our music was piped in from corporate. You could go into any CVS around the entire country, and I guarantee you the same song would be playing.

There are exceptions to this. A lot of people who work as artists still enjoy their work. People find creative engagement in being analysts and accountants, in the thrill of stock trading, in being mechanics or electricians, engineers or academics, scientists or doctors. You might have noticed a common thread in all those professions: They’re all considered privileged positions. You only get them if you’re the best at what you do.

And even some of these are turning into efficiency wheels. Next time you go to a doctor, ask someone who they’re run by. Most of the doctors in my area are run by one of two bigger corporations. Doctors are paid by how many patients they see in an hour. If you’re a newly graduated bio major, you might end up working as a lab tech. I worked as a lab assistant one summer (meaning I did the cleaning and filed papers). The rank and file lab techs sat at benches and filled test tubes from samples, running the same test over and over.

My girlfriend was a professional writer for 11 years. She was treated as a cog in a machine that was supposed to churn out marketing copy at a ridiculous rate.

The working conditions for artists at a certain major studio are notoriously wretched.

And so, rather than work being what you do and providing much of the interest and engagement in your life, it’s the thing you suffer through so that you can get by. Why do you feel a desperate need for more time in the day to pursue things you actually enjoy? It’s because the bulk of your life has turned you into an invisible robot.

People have been railing against this for generations, but no one has actually done anything about it. Taking the position that people should enjoy their work, whatever it is, is a wacky fringe position.

For the six months I lived in Europe though, it was different. I worked as a stagehand with a company that built stages for concerts and other events. I was only the lowest of grunts, but when I anxiously went to stub out a half finished cigarette to hurry back to work and my boss told me to chill and finish my goddamn cigarette. People would just…. stop… for water breaks, or to rest for a minute. One time we were setting up a stage for an American band and their roadies kept expressing disgust about how lazy the Austrians were.

It’s possible to do things differently. But shortening the work day isn’t the only thing that needs to happen. What needs to happen is a fundamental paradigm shift in how we think about and approach the whole idea of work.

[dotaccountant]

(LOVIE SIMONE, 23, FEMALE, SHE/HER) ⮕ Hey, isn’t that [DOROTHEA “DOT” HARTLEY]? I heard that they were a part of the crew. According to the wiki it says they’re the [ACCOUNTANT] of the group. Avid fans say that they’re [PRAGMATIC], but that they can also be [MOODY]. Maybe that’s because they’re a [CAPRICORN]. This gossip forum says they joined the group because [SHE NEEDS THE MONEY]. I wonder if that’s true. I also heard they [DO NOT] believe in ghosts. I wonder if their time in arcane inc will change that. (peyton, 23, est.)

mun info.

hey girly! just wanted to let you know i literally cannot handle this right now :)

uhh okay!! my name is peyton, i’m 23, i’m a college senior, i’m a libra, i’ve been rping for [redacted] years. i managed to escape for like two years until quarantine hit so here i am, like a dog going back to its’ vomit. i’m an illiterate roman roy enthusiast lesbian who is just excited to be here. my discord is ilyinichna#9370 (not me outing myself as a russian lit nerd. disgusting). please feel free to add me!!!

some cheeky stats.

full name: dorothea eloise hartley nicknames: dot by the crew, dottie exclusively by her mother, lame ass nerd by me birthdate: december 31st, 1997 occupation: accountant for arcane inc. nationality: american

orientation: bisexual moral alignment: lawful good myers-briggs: infp temperament: melancholic

about.

it snowed the day dot was born, her mother would say fondly as she reminisced of better times for the two. edna hartley always made it a point to say no matter what she was conceived out of love and for awhile, dot believed that. her parents met when her mother was touring europe and she fell for a charming french aspiring writer, louis, who said all of the right things. not long after their summer romance, edna found out she was pregnant and at first louis was thrilled. he proposed on the spot. edna had dreams of becoming a stage actress so the two flew out to a shoebox apartment in new york to start their little family.

except edna never got her big break and louis never even started the next great novel and the bills were piling up. they were getting money from edna’s family, but louis’s pride wouldn’t accept it any longer. he took two jobs while edna stayed home with baby dot. 

she loved dot and dot herself never doubted it, but she was certainly not ready to be a mother. she was immature and treated her only daughter more like a best friend than her child. taking care of a child all day with no escape took a strain on edna and eventually took a strain on her marriage. what started as harsh whispers would soon turn into screaming matches that dot could hear through the thin walls. it was that way for years and dot looked at her parents differently. she had resentment for her father and the feeling was mutual, he blamed them for the fact he never achieved his dream. the older dot grew she soon was the one taking care of edna, who some days couldn’t even get out of bed.

dot comes home from school at fifteen to see her and edna’s bags packed. she says the two of them are going to california and dot goes with her without any hesitation. a new start was what they needed, they could look out for each other.

except it wasn’t. edna and dot both work odd jobs to make ends meet and when dot isn’t at school she’s accompanying her mother to auditions that she doesn’t get called back for. she scores a few commercials which is enough to keep them afloat for a brief amount of time. much of dot’s teen years are spent apartment hopping, couch surfing, and sleeping in motels throughout LA. if she was younger she might have been charmed by their vagabond lifestyle, but dot knew they couldn’t live that way forever.

if anything, dot learned a lot about how money worked when she was young. she always had a knack for numbers and after crunching the numbers to figure out if you could pay your electric bill for the month really gives you an advantage. she learned how to budget because no one else was going to. 

she’s working a job doing data entry when she first hears of arcane inc. one of her coworkers wouldn’t stop talking about them. dot isn’t interested as she’s never though much about the supernatural, chalking up companies like arcane to exploit people’s fears. no thanks. her mother believed in spirits enough for the both of them. (besides if karma was real, she would’ve seen a check from louis for the book deal he got over a year ago).

dot does go down a rabbit hole though when she realizes just how big of a following aracane has. people will really believe anything. the moment she sees that they’re hiring, she sees it as an opportunity. a company with millions of followers has to give their employees a reasonable salary. she didn’t have any real work experience outside of her office job but she was damn good with numbers and she was already used to traveling.

she’s been at arcane inc. for about a year now and still doesn’t really get what all the hype is about but that doesn’t matter. dot makes enough to send money to edna and she’s even started to put money aside to go to college. dot’s never been one to dream big, look at what it did to her parents, so she’s planned out every step without reaching out too far for the stars.

headcanons.

yeah her mom’s a failed theater actress but dot has a really secret love for musicals. you won’t find her ever talking about it though and if anyone found out she’d kill them. not joking don’t text.

her social media presence is little to none. not that she thinks she’s above it but she’s just genuinely bad at keeping up and she doesn’t love being in front of a camera. (her instagram posts are all blurry with bad filters and weird angles, bless her heart).

she’s probably the most stubborn person you will ever meet. i blame it on her being an earth sign i’m just saying a ghost could be right in front of her and she’d go and?

dot’s a really good listener (years of practice) and will take secrets to the grave but she’s pretty bad at giving advice. she doesn’t really know what to do when someone starts crying except give them an awkward pat.

her intuition is pretty good though. she’s good at reading situations she just doesn’t know how to react sometimes.

tw abuse: so while her father was never physically abusive, there was an incident from when she was twelve. he had been drinking and dot got out of bed to get water from the kitchen. he yells at her, as he often did, and throws an empty beer bottle at her. she threw up her arms to defend herself and there are still a few scars from the glass shards.

the way to her heart? anything peppermint which i know is arguably the worst dessert flavor but she can’t get enough of it.

tends to chew on things when she’s working. no pen cap is safe. she usually has candies on her so she has something to munch on.

connection ideas.

i prefer chemistry over anything else!! these are just some ideas to get the ball rolling. (also i am so bad at coming up with connections.)

friends. i mean....yeah jsfdkljfd. as basic as that is she just never had many of those growing up! dot’s kept a few people close but for the first time in her life she’s out of reach from her mother so it’s a good chance to socialize.

more specifically? a best friend. in the same vein but dot would really put this person above everyone else. she’s really loyal and it’d be nice to have such a close bond with someone.

a childhood friend or two too!! she’s moved around quite a bit but she stayed in new york (and she considers when she first moved to la still part of her childhood) for quite a bit, definitely long enough to make a connection!

someone she’s pulling out of trouble maybe. while dot’s not a maternal figure (leave that to the nurturer) she does have a compulsive need to help people out. it’s very frustrating but she can’t stop.

negative nancy. she can be so pessimistic and annoying so she’d appreciate having someone she could just vent to.

exes. it has to be a past relationship because dot is not a hook up person like AT ALL, but she’s human and she likes companionship (sometimes). 

honestly whatever you can think of! cousins, pen pals, unrequited crush (either way), friend crush, enemies, people she avoids, shared interest buddies, good/bad influence!

[jawritter]

A Thousand Years...

Chapter 4

Heart beats fast. Colors and promises. How to be brave. How can I love when I’m afraid to fall. But watching you stand alone. All of my doubt, suddenly goes away…..

Summary: A soulmate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master. – Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

A new town, a new job, and a new life, one that you didn’t even expect……

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, OFC Officer Davis x Reader, OFC Officer Davis x Jensen, Gino x Jensen

Word Count: 3434

Warnings will include… Smut, language, unrequited/ requited love, cheating, and possibly more. This is brand new, so I will add to it as I know. Chapters will have warnings of their own if need be….

A/N: So my little cousin was watching breaking dawn in the living room, and I was folding clothes in the guest room… When the credits rolled and this song started, this fic hit me right in the face… I couldn’t escape it... 

Fic Based on the Song A Thousand Years, by Christina Perri

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Three weeks later:

It had been three weeks since your first day at the FBBC.

You were surprised you had made it this far. Every day you woke up telling yourself you were going to quit. Every day you got out of bed, dressed, and got ready to go in and tell them that today was going to be your last day at work, that you just didn't think this job was a fit for you, even though that was a ball faced lie. You loved working there, even though it was mainly Gino you seemed to be working with most of the time, that is when you weren't manning the front alone, serving drinks. 

The people that came in were all nice and friendly, and the atmosphere of the place overall was a pleasant one. No, the place and the people were not the problem. The problem for you was Jensen. 

The whole time you were there you find yourself looking over your shoulder, searching for Jensen, looking to see if he was here, or if he was going to pull up even though you never said a word to anyone. 

The night that you left the warehouse, something changed in you. You didn't know quite what it was, but it was almost like you were gravitating towards that man, and there were two big problems with that. One, you didn't want to be gravitating towards anyone. He had literally become all you could think about. He invaded your every sleeping as well as waking moment. Pale Green eyes hovering just inches away from you like they had in the warehouse, and that for you was a serious no, no.  

Second, He was married. MARRIED!!! Off the menu so to speak. Unavailable. Taken. In a permanent relationship. His wife Danneel didn't seem to like what she'd seen when she walked into the warehouse, and you wondered ideally if that's why you ended up working the bar part of the brewery alone or were working with Gino so that he could keep an eye on you. You had no proof or way to back that theory, but you didn't need proof or evidence to see the side glances and evil looks she gave you every time she got in the same room with you.

Thankfully she didn't come in often. If she did you wouldn't have lasted three days, much less than three weeks.

Jensen on the other hand hadn't been back to the brewery at all in three weeks, and even though part of you was grateful, you couldn't help but think that if you weren't around him. These feelings, whatever the hell they were, would go away; or at least that what you kept telling yourself. Much to your dismay they haven't. You still found yourself silently wishing that you would see him come in, and you hated that part of you. That's the reason you are so ready to quit.

You thought you should just walk away. Go find another job, get yourself completely away from him, but here you were, still here. Part of the reason for that is because you didn't know if you could get another job and because you weren't strong enough to lose the chance that you could get to see Jensen again, to see those beautiful forest green eyes that were haunting your memory, to hear that deep voice that was somehow at the same times as smooth as honey; the same voice that felt like it had carved its way into your very soul.

Today was Thursday, that meant trivia night. You had to admit you did enjoy watching it, even though you never played. 

Trivia nights usually meant a little longer workday because of the cleanup mainly, and you were glad tonight when you finally were able to usher the last of the customers out and were just about to lock the door when a hand reached out grabbing the door, stopping you from shutting it. 

Gino froze behind you where he was sweeping the floor suddenly on alert for any possible danger that might be trying to get in with the two of you until Jensen sidestepped you and entered into the building, and Gino took a visible sigh of relief. 

"Shit Jay, I thought you were some crazy person," he said, looking at his brother-in-law like he wanted to murder him.

"Well, I'm probably crazy, but not to the extent that you are implying," Jensen said, looking at Gino who had gone back to sweeping the floor and ignoring him.

"How about you go ahead and go, home man, I can help Y/N clean up here. I haven't been home much lately to pull my weight around here, and your wife had a pretty bad migraine earlier according to Danneel. Go home and be with her, I got this." Jensen said, taking the broom from Gino who let it go without a fight. 

"Thanks, man, I knew she wasn't feeling very well when I left to come up here today," Gino said, already fishing his keys out of his pocket. 

"Don't worry about it. You go take care of the little woman." Jensen said, winking at him, making Gino roll his eyes at him.

You watched as Gino walked by you and out of the door without as much as a word goodbye, his focus not on this place now that the workload had been shifted to someone that was not him.

When Gino was out of sight Jensen smirked at you and continued sweeping the floor where Gino had left off. There wasn't much of that left to do, you had already wiped down all of the tables, so you moved to the bar to start putting all the glasses and things back on the shelves that had been used for the night and previously cleaned and sanitized in the back.

You did your best to ignore Jensen, but it felt like every nerve ending was on fire right now just being in the same room alone with him again. Not only were you alone with him in the taproom but on the grounds as a whole. Everyone else had already gone home. It was just the two of you. 

"So," Jensen said loudly and close enough behind you to make you nearly jump out of your skin. He'd already put his broom up and was just waiting on you to finish up behind the bar. He was leaning on the bar with his arms crossed, that same smirk still on his perfect lips that had seared into your memory when you’d met him on day one. The same lips that here lately you seemed to be thinking about way more than you should have.

"You gonna continue to ignore the fact that I exist, and not answer my questions about you, or you gonna play nice and talk to me," he said, his eyes gleaming with just a hint of mischief. 

"Well, what happens if I choose to ignore you?" you asked. You weren't going to give in to this little game of his that easy even though it was probably just innocent curiosity and you were making a big deal out of nothing at all. Then you started to feel stupid for even making that remark until you heard his deep chuck, and you looked over in his direction. He seemed perfectly amused.

"I run a background check on you, possibly follow you home. Stalk and annoy you until you decide to talk to me. I'm done with filming for now, and I don't have anything else lined up until I have to go to Rome, so I guess you can say I have nothing at all better to do." 

He still that impish smirk on his face, and his words made your stomach churn nervously in you. 

Even though he'd find nothing about you if he did run a background check on you, you still couldn't deny the thrill that the thought of him stalking you, and then you wondered for just a brief second if you had finally snapped and where going batshit crazy.

The look on your face must have been priceless though because he threw himself into a whole-body laugh and took several minutes to get over it before he could speak again.

"I'm kidding sweetheart, I'm not a creep. Though I do wish you wouldn't act like I had some disease or something. I'm not a stalker, I'm not a serial killer. Why do you seem to want to avoid me so much?" he questioned you, his eyes searching yours. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he slowly made his way around the counter to where you were standing, leaning across from you and crossing his arms and his perfect bowed legs, giving you time to come up with an answer, which you didn't have.

"I uh, I don't know, I guess I just have trouble getting close to people," you say with a shrug. That wasn't the real answer and you knew it though. The real answer was that you were completely and utterly obsessed with this man, even though he was married with three damn kids, and you didn't know how to stop feeling what you were feeling; that you were a damn coward, and would rather push it down and ignore whatever this was you were feeling towards him than deal with it like an adult. 

He watched you for a moment, tilting his head, considering his next move. Shoving himself off the bar and closing the distance between you to only a few inches. Closer than a normal person would probably stand to another person, or was that just you?

"That's too bad, cause I really, really want to get to know you," he said, reaching out and tucking a stray hair behind your ear that had fallen down beside your face. 

You had to repress the shiver that threatened to visibly rip through your body. Even the slightest touch sending a jolt through you. You swallowed hard and tried to find your voice. Was he this touchy with everyone, or were you just being paranoid?

"There's not much here that someone like you would find interesting. You'd get bored pretty quickly," you respond, repressing the “they all do” that you almost attached onto that end of that sentence.

Jensen shook his head, his eyes searching your face as if he looked hard enough he could see past the mile-high walls you had built up around you to protect yourself. 

"You know what I think?" he asked you, stretching one of his arms out and putting his hand on the counter next to you, leaning in just a little bit closer much like he'd done in the warehouse three weeks ago.

"I think you've been burned before, someone has hurt you, and you don't want to let anyone else in, and you instead would rather make everyone stay at arm's length, paying for the mistakes of some jackass did to you. I think there's a whole lot more to you than you even know about yourself. There's things that you have never been given the chance to search out for whatever reason, and you're scared. You are scared of what someone might see if they look too close."

His eyes were boring into yours. Your heart was pounding so loud you were surprised that he couldn't hear it. Your breathing was shallow, and with every breath, you were consumed with his scent. 

Slowly, so slowly that you weren't sure he was moving at first, he started inching his face closer to yours, there was nowhere for you to run. You were pinned between his arms and the counter you were leaning against. His breath was fanning your face, mixing with your own. To be honest you wouldn't have been able to run if you wanted to. Your head was screaming that this was a mistake, but your body just wouldn't move, because if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted more than anything for him to kiss you.

Just as his lips brushed against your own so lightly you almost didn't feel them a loud banging on the doors made you both jump a little, snapping you out of your own little world that Jensen had pulled you into with a harsh slap back to reality. You shot under his arms and away from him, taking deep breaths, trying to control your rapidly racing heart rate. Your head was spinning with adrenaline and you felt a little like you wanted to throw up. Turning around you saw Jensen run his hand through his hair harshly, before unlocking the door. He looked annoyed and even a little angry, and you wondered if he was angry at you. You didn't have long to wonder though. 

"Can I help you, sir?" Jensen said as an elderly man came into the building, looking between Jensen and yourself. He ignored Jensen completely and looked at you.

"Ms. Y/L/N?" he asked, and you nodded slowly. "I'm detective Davis. I've been looking for you. Are you still in possession of a 2016 Nissan Sentra?" he asked, and you shook your head yes again. The confusion started to fade, and you wished more than anything that you could die on the spot. 

Why now? Why did Jensen have to witness this?

"I'm so sorry to have to do this Ms. Honestly I don't agree with this particular court order, but I'm going to have to ask that you turn the car over to myself so that it can be brought back to your ex-fiance. The car is in his name, and because he didn't go through with the wedding, and you were never legally married, you have to turn it back over to him. I'm so sorry." 

Nodding your head again, and grabbed your purse from behind the counter. You had been expecting this, but you had hoped that you would have worked long enough to have built up the money to replace it before you were forced to return it.

It's not like you were never going to return the car. You didn't even really want it, but you had nothing else until you found a job and were on your feet enough to buy another one. Apparently, your ex was an even bigger dick than you thought he was, that or he was still pissed that you left town and didn't "give him another chance." 

You fished the keys out of your purse you had hidden behind the counter and walked over to the detective. Before you could drop them in his hands though Jensen's hand shot out and grabbed your arm.

"Wait, wait, this isn't right. That's her only way to go. He can't do that. There's gotta be something, even though you say they were never legally married, that says he can't take away her only means of transportation." Jensen was pissed. You hadn't even noticed it until he grabbed you and you looked at him, but he was looking at the elderly officer in a way that screamed if he could get away with hitting him he'd do it.

"I'm sorry sir, but they got a court order saying she has to return it, it's in his name, so technically it’s his car. I'm sorry, I don't like this either, and if there was a way I could get away with letting her keep it would. Some people are just childish and bitter. Again, I'm sorry, but I have to take it back to the owner, or else they are going to slap her with grand theft auto, and she doesn't need that hassle over something like this.

Jensen made a move to argue with the officer, but you cut him off. 

"It's okay, here he can have it if he wants it that bad," you said dropping the keys in the detective's hand. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want him to leave me alone.”

"Y/N," Jensen said a little more gently than he'd spoken to the detective, and even in your current state of distress, it made your stomach do little flips. The fact that he cared that much when honestly you can't remember the last time someone you weren't related to gave a damn about you.

"I know your brother Ms. Y/L/N. He's not gonna let you go without I assure you, and sometimes It's best to let bitter people just be bitter and let them wallow in their own misery,” he said giving you an apologetic smile before turning and leaving the building. His partner took the keys from him to your car and they were gone. Just like that, another piece of your life fell apart, and standing there watching them drive away it took everything in you not to break down right there. If Jensen wasn't standing there you honestly probably would have.

Taking a deep breath you were suddenly more than ready to get the hell out of here than you were when Gino left you here with Jensen. You pulled your phone from your pocket to text your sister-in-law when Jensen's hand on your shoulder made you nearly jump out of your skin for the second time that night. When you turned around though his face was soft, his eyes filled with concern, all the mischief that was there before was gone.

"Let me drive you home, please, I gotta head that way anyway," Jensen offered, and for a moment you started to tell him no, but you knew that you'd be stuck here an extra 45 minutes waiting on your sister-in-law, and an uber coming this far out was just out of the question.

"Okay," you mumbled in a voice that was more defeated than you wanted to sound.

Jensen reached over and turned the lights out, then led you to his truck, which thankfully was parked close. It was cold tonight, and you forgot your jacket was in your car when they pulled away with it. Jensen pulled his red and black plaid overshirt off and slipped it over your shoulders before opening the passenger side door for you. The scent of him mixed with his cologne instantly surrounded you, and you felt a feeling of instant peace. Normally you would have fought against the feeling, but right now you'd take whatever you could get.

The ride to your apartment was a quiet one. You were pretty stuck in your head trying to figure out what you were going to do from here, and Jensen left you to your thoughts, not wanting to press too hard, though you did feel his eyes on you most of the way. 

He found his way to your building without you telling him where it was, and when he parked out front you narrowed your eyes at him in shock, pointing confusedly at the building. "How did you?"

"I saw it on your application," he said before you could even really ask. The truck was dark, but you could have sworn you saw a blush creep up to his checks. 

"Oh," you said, wondering if he wasn't kidding after all when he said he'd stalk you if you didn't talk to him.

"I uh, I got to confess that I got your number too," he said, looking down at his lap, playing with the hem of his black shirt that seemed to hug his body in a way that was almost sinful.

"Ok," was all you could get out, turning your head trying to hide the blush that made it's way to your checks. You knew you should have been weirded out, but you couldn't help the rush at the thought of Jensen going out of his way to get your number.

Jensen cleared his throat and unlocked the doors to the truck. "I'll walk you to your door," he said, but before he could open the driver's side door you grabbed his hand stopping him.

His eyes shot to yours immediately. "It's okay, some fan might see you or something. Can you imagine the headlines on Twitter, ‘Jensen Ackles walks mystery girl to her apartment late Thursday.’ " 

He chucked to himself but closed the door, and settled back down in his seat.

"You're probably right."

You opened your door and this time it was him who grabbed your wrist to stop you. He held your gaze for a moment before letting your wrist go. 

"It's going to get better, okay," he said, and you almost broke down right there.

Taking a deep breath you steady yourself to keep from crying like a little kid in front of him. You'd save that for when you were safe inside your own apartment.

"Thanks, Jensen," you said opening the door to step out on the curb.

"I'll text you, check on you later," Jensen said as you stepped out of the car.

"See you tomorrow at work?" He asked hopefully.

"See you tomorrow," you said before you closed the door and headed into your building. Your mind swearling with the thoughts of what you were going to do now, you were carless, vertually homeless, broke as fuck, and you just almost kissed a married man. You really knew how to get yourself into shit, didn't you?

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[salenakingston]

Decided to forgo the prompt thing this time around and write a little something that came to my head on my way home from work. Been writing a lot more backstory related stuff to the main trio, and I don’t intend to stop. It’s so fun to play around with.

Prompt: None

Warnings: Medical Procedures (minor), Blood

Timeline of Events: Whitegale Estate (Backstory)

Total Word Count: 3,117 words

The halls of this estate seemed to just go on and on. Guess that was to be expected when being invited to a place like this. The Whitegale name was one that stretched far beyond the reaches of Sweden, for a number of reasons. Alexander’s wealth and power was nothing to scoff at, but more than that, it was what he had chosen to do with it. He could very well be running his own country with the number of contacts he had, and the people that flocked to him on the promise of a good paycheck. The Whitegales never seemed to be short of work.

And that’s why he was here.

News articles continued to pile up on top of one another, the gap between his own kills becoming shorter and shorter. It seemed that since discovering his project had been a failure, he was not allowed much room to breathe. The demon had put up with him before then, no doubt already knowing the outcome before even his host had learned the price of dealing with those that were already dead.

Magic was real, but even in this new world, there were laws that had to be obeyed. No one could come back from the dead without being broken. Pleas and cries haunted the mind, be it in the waking world or when asleep.

He couldn’t stay at his office anymore, not without risking getting caught. His brain argued with him that he deserved to be taken in. He had lost count of how many lives he had stolen away, be it from those that deserved death or not. He did not care so long as he could get a laugh out of it. He would take.. And take.. And take until there was nothing left of who he once was. Life was slipping away from his fingers.

Sometimes he even wondered what the point of fighting was anymore.

Malceum had found himself on the steps of the estate, mostly by chance. Forced to flee his home country. It was quite the jump to make, Germany to Sweden. Anywhere else might have been a better idea, a place where he might be able to isolate himself so that he couldn’t thrive off the thrill of others… but there was one thing that drew him in to the promise the Whitegales proposed.

Stability.

A roof over his head.

A job.

He could be left wandering country to country without the promise of being able to see anyone. No one owed him anything, and he couldn’t very well work and move at the same time. He needed a new place to call his own. While the estate itself didn’t belong to him, since Alexander had taken him in, he was granted his own space along with the other medical personnel in the building. He had work, or at the very least, something to keep him occupied. On the plus side, with so many people around, he couldn’t just do as he pleased. Someone would notice if one of the staff went missing, or if he had slipped out of the building.

It was a bit of a win win actually.

Unfortunately, it didn’t keep the hollow’s witty commentary silenced.

Alexander had called upon him specifically for a task. Guess the man himself had been impressed by the surgeon’s work. At least that’s what he assumed before stepping inside the office. It was for a stranger reason that he had been chosen. Alexander’s wife had seen him in a vision. Said woman was quite the enigma. Seeing her was rare outside of briefings and events. He had gazed into her unseeing eyes, and could swear that she was somehow still staring back at him. It was enough to unsettle anyone.

He didn’t believe her vision, at least when it seemed like it was something so minor. It was just another surgical job. What did it matter if he was the one who did it, or someone else. Alexander had explained that he never questioned anything his wife had seen, nor was surprised at Malceum’s skeptic tone.

Well… whatever. He had a job to do.

Returning him back to his path through the halls. He had finally managed to figure out where he was going, though it probably helped that he dropped the files he had been flipping through from his eyesight. Anything already on a person’s medical record could help him to understand his patient’s body. Their strengths and weaknesses, at least on a physical level, and what kind of treatments one had already undergone. Which worked, and which ones did not.

But this file just left him dumbfounded.

It was for someone by the name ‘Salena Kingston.’ The first thing that struck him as odd was the inclusion of a ‘species’ tag on her records. Species? It labeled her a wolf, but this had to be some kind of mistake. True, magic was a possibility, but this just seemed too much of a stretch as to what could be considered real now. Humans seeing the future? Believable at the very least. Humans channeling enough energy to bring the souls of others back from the dead? He had seen it first hand. Humanized animals? Unheard of.

Brushing past this mistake, he got into the meat of her records. It baffled him that the list of problems with her physical attributes grew longer and longer with each person that had seen her, yet they had all cleared her to return to duty. Were all of them so negligent with their jobs, doing this on purpose so they could make another sum of money from their wealthy employer? Or was this Alexander’s own doing? It was clear he had contact with everyone on his medical team. Surely he wouldn’t be worse than the doctors.

Well, he wasn’t going to be like them.

Malceum stopped as he came to the medical wing. He knew the path here, but not to this specific room. It seemed strange to be directed to one room, as many others he had taken care of were spread through to whichever space was available. This was ‘her room.’ Just how often was this person here to have a room all of her own?

The surgeon steeled himself, and then opened the door. Strange that this door requires a pin number to open, sliding rather than opening like any normal door.

A pair of blue eyes peered over at him.

The door shut behind him, effectively locking him in the room with a literal beast. So that species part of her documents hadn’t been a typo after all. There, sitting in the bed, was a wolf with a humanized figure. He couldn’t find one thing to focus on, his eyes moving all around her. Her red face markings, visible scars across the top of her muzzle and neck, the curved notches in her ears, the traces of bags under her eyes, but mostly that piercing gaze that fell on him.

A gaze that seemed to be narrowing the longer he stood still. He even found his hands shaking slightly. No, it wasn’t fear that was causing this. He seemed delighted by this turn of events.

“Hey.”

What? Oh that was her voice.

“Are you going to stand there gawking at me, or are you actually going to do your job?”

Malceum was taken aback. Never in all his career could he recall a patient speaking to him in such a way. Annoyance replaced his surprised expression. Oh, he could tell he wasn’t going to enjoy taking care of this one. He set her file down on the small table next to her bed. As he drew closer, he noticed the tubes sticking out of her nose, a tank on the opposite side from where he was standing. Oxygen? Was she having trouble breathing? There were so many problems on the list, it was likely his brain skipped over it, much like the fact of her ‘species.’

“Hey.”

“Y-Yes, st-top.”

His hands were shaking again. She’ll be fun to play with.

Y-You ca-an’t-t.

Oh I’ll find a way.

He gave an audible sigh, an eyebrow raised on the woman? Wolf? In bed. Right, he must look like a crazy person. She was glaring at him at this point, so he might as well match her attitude, “W-well M-Ms. Kin-ngs-ston, I can h-hones-stly s-say in all m-my l-lif-fe I’ve n-nev-ver se-e-een s-som-meo-one as b-brok-ken as y-you are a-and-d s-stil-ll w-wil-llin-ng to m-mout-th off t-the p-per-rson w-who’s-s b-been a-assig-gned to h-help you.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble Sorrowgrave. You’re hardly the first person to be assigned to me as you put it.”

She knew who he was? He hadn’t even been here that long, and he’d never seen her before. Did Alexander tell her about him before summoning him? He mentally shook off that train of thought, scoffing at her, “S-So I’ve s-see-en, a-and it s-seem-ms n-non-ne of t-them-m h-have b-bee-en t-treat-tin-ng you p-pr-rop-perly.”

“And you think you can do better?”

“I k-know-w I c-can.”

“Doubtful.”

Now he was getting more than just annoyed. Were it not for the mask covering his mouth, he was sure his sharpened teeth would be flashing to accompany his growl, “Y-You d-doub-bt my s-sk-kills-s?”

Her tone didn’t change. From the moment she first started talking to him, it seemed she was intent on holding onto her level of sass, but content. Was it acceptance? It was too soon to tell. She didn’t shut up, “Oh no, I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I’m just saying I doubt there’s anything you can do that the other doctors haven’t already tried, or improve upon. My body’s fucked.”

Und-der-rst-tatem-ment-t.

“T-Then-n c-care to ex-xp-plain to m-me w-why y-you’v-ve b-bee-en cl-lear-red e-ev-ver-ry s-sin-ngle t-tim-me y-you’ve b-bee-en h-her-re wh-hen ev-ven you are a-awa-are th-hat s-somet-th-hing is w-wron-ng w-with you?”

“Have you been paying attention? I told you there’s nothing that you can do to improve my condition. You’ll either clear me like the rest of them or I spend the rest of my life sitting in bed. Sounds far too dull.”

“Wh-hy are y-you h-her-re t-then?”

The bitch seemed to roll her eyes at that question, “Did Alexander not even bother to tell his new surgeon why he was being sent here? Just send him off with a file and expect him to wing it?”

Obviously she wasn’t pleased, but was that directed at him, or at her employer? She had to be working for the man if she was in her own private room, but also referred to the Whitegale man by his first name. How was it that she seemed more annoyed than he was having to put up with this? He glared over at the file, as if it had committed a crime by simply being in the room, “H-he s-said his w-wif-fe s-saw me h-her-re in a v-vis-sion.”

That was the thing that seemed to shut her up. Her attitude melted away, head moving up slightly from its slouched over position, “Cassandra saw you? I see.”

So she knew something about the man’s wife too. Just what was so special about this woman and what she could see? Why was it a driving force for so many decisions made around here? It was largely irrelevant for the present moment. He still had a job to do. He found his face easing slightly, “N-Now t-th-hen. W-What-t are y-you in f-for t-tod-day?”

“I need stitches. The staff have been able to do what they could for the wounds, but they won’t heal properly without that work, and Alexander won’t let me do the ones I can reach myself. I’ve been instructed not to move as much until someone got here to take care of the problem.”

She’s capable of doing her own stitch work? Perhaps their employer didn’t want her to do it, feeling more confident with a professional surgeon on staff. Guess his reputation from his home country had something to do with that.

There was a spot for Malceum to prepare for this small task, doing his best to get his hands to stop shaking before he got to work. When he turned back around, he noticed that she had placed her wrists above leather straps on each side of her bed. Restraints, yet she was so casual about their use. She was looking so expectantly at him, “I d-don’t-t s-see a n-nee-ed to hav-ve to u-use t-thos-se.”

“Look Sorrowgrave, I know you’re new here, but trust me on this one. Unless you want to risk my claws finding your skin or impaled on accident, you will strap me down.”

“Y-You c-can’t-t do wor-rse t-than-n wh-hat has al-lre-eady b-bee-en d-done to me.”

“What?”

What?

She didn’t seem to buy that, trying again, “Trust me on this one Sorrowgrave. You’re going to want me restrained. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise if I didn’t think there was any danger to this.” It baffled him in a way that she was willing to be tied down, for his own sake. She was aware of her own power, able to assume she had some from the way she phrased her words, and took her own measures to ensure the staff’s safety. Seeing no need to fight her further, he stepped over to her bed, tightening the straps as tight as he could around each wrist. Her eyes turned forward, waiting now.

He only stepped away to gather his materials before coming to her side, “I’ll n-nee-ed to re-em-move y-your g-gow-wn.”

“Go ahead.”

He had done this so many times before, so there was no need to be so hesitant. The gown was laid across the railing closest to him, his eyes focusing to the new bundle of white and red along her shoulder. So one wound there. He could see the same along her upper chest, another spot along her side, and one last one near her thigh. Whatever mission she must have been on didn’t include an instruction on being careful.

His hands moved around the bandages, removing them. Sure enough, the cuts were deep, jagged in some places. He couldn’t help but notice the ones along her upper chest were different. They were straighter, each one with more than one line next to them. They looked very similar to scars that already littered her upper body. Eyes narrowed, staring on them, and she must have caught onto him again, “As much as I would love for you to keep gawking over my body, do you mind getting on with it? I hate sitting still.”

A low growl passed through his lips, sitting back up so he was at a better angle to do his job. No point in entertaining her rebuke. The sooner he could get these stitches done, the sooner he could leave. A syringe moved towards her wrist, sticking her in a safe place. It shouldn’t take too long for her body to grow numb. While he waited, his eyes moved over the wounds. Whichever medical personnel came to see her before him did a good job cleaning them out. All of them were clear of any signs of infection. Good. He would have hated to do more work than necessary.

He was always careful with his work, testing to make sure the anesthesia was in effect before the needle even touched her skin. Salena barely moved during the entire procedure, making this far easier. Guess he was right that she actually didn’t need to worry about the restraints. He couldn’t help but manage a smug look behind his mask. Good thing she couldn’t see that.

Clean bandages were wrapped back where the dirty ones used to be, leaving the surgeon with nothing else to do aside from clean up. He took care of himself before returning to his patient’s side, freeing her wrists and offering the discarded gown back to her. She snatched it from him, draping it back over her form. Guess his work here was done, so he could leave.

Before he could input the pin to the door panel, he heard her voice again, “Wait.”

Wait? Why? He thought she would be thrilled to have him leave her space. She was rubbing one of her wrists when he turned his eyes back onto her. Her gaze moved to the side, “Thanks. Let me compensate you for your work. I know something you may appreciate more than whatever Alexander will pay you.”

Weird. What could she possibly offer someone like him. Eyes widened when a pocket of magic She stuck her arm inside of it, pulling out a vial. What had he just witnessed? Truthfully, he wasn’t sure, but it fascinated him. Just what was this woman capable of?

Eyes trailed down to the vial, the magic having disappeared, and this what was offered out to him. He took it in his hands, fingers rolling it back and forth as it rested along his palm. The vial contained some kind of green liquid. He was about to question her when she noticed his confusion, “It’s a dreamless sleep potion. I can see the dark bags under your eyes. If they’re anything like mine, I can guess partly why you’re not getting sleep at night. Figured it might help.”

“I-It’s a w-what-t?”

It’s a what?!

One was thrilled, and the other panicking. He couldn’t lose the only outlet he still had for the time being to break down his host. Malceum’s hand began to tremble, grip moving around the vial. Audible cracks from the glass rang in the small room. He tried to save this small act of mercy she had offered him, but he was stronger. The vial shattered, potion spilling between his fingers. Tiny tears pricked at his eyes, red mixing with green along his hand.

He turned around, punching in the code to allow himself to leave, racing down the hall once the door opened.

She didn’t miss the orange flickering in his gaze.

He could tell she was a danger. She had something that could help him, and he made them flee. He wanted to go back to her, beg her for another one, but it was useless. He was going to make him pay for this new found hope.

Salena’s eyes didn’t leave the man, even as he sprinted past the window looking into her room. There was something very wrong with him. Cassandra saw him being sent to her. There was some reason they were meant to meet. Her gaze shifted down to the puddle on the floor, green mixing with red. He wanted that.

Something else made him break it.

And she would find out what.

[loveburnsbrighter]

Like a Blushing Rose

Written for a lovely anon who requested little embarrassing moments :) read it on ao3

"What was that?"

David freezes.  Maybe if he stays really still, Patrick won't be able to see him.

"David," Patrick says with a huff of laughter.  "I can still see you, even when you stand really still."

Okay, fuck that plan, then.  David relaxes.  "What was what?"  He says as breezily as he can manage.  (Nevermind that he's not breezy at his best.)

"David," Patrick says again, in his patented teasing voice.  "Did you belch?"

"Okay, firstly, that's a gross word and I hate it," David clarifies, because Patrick's vocabulary, as it turns out, is atrocious.  "And secondly, no, I did not.  That's a disgusting thing to do in public."

"Is it technically public if it's just us two in here?"  Patrick cocks his head, a show of innocence that's so full of shit, and gestures at the admittedly empty shopping floor.  

David bristles to hide the little shiver that just us two gives him.  "Please don't remind me that we're quiet," he snaps instead.

Patrick just laughs at him.  "Told you the cafe's Super Burrito was a bad idea."  

"You know what, this isn't a discussion we're having," David announces.  He hates how out of control he feels.  He hates that Patrick is having fun humiliating him.  He hates that he actually doesn't hate either of those things, that Patrick's savant-level ability to press all of his buttons with  complete accuracy gives him a little thrill that he's chosen not to poke at thus far.

The thing about the beginning of a relationship is that there's no way of knowing how the other person will react as you slowly become a little more accessible to them, a little more human.  In the scant few weeks they've been dating, David has tried to stay at his filet mignon for Patrick, and now he's unwittingly exposed himself at his Super Burrito.

"David, it's okay," Patrick says gently.  "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"Oh my God."  David tosses his hands up.  "How are we still fucking talking about this?"  

He cringes, expecting Patrick to be cowed by this, but he should know better at this point.  Patrick is smiling at him, endeared by David's harshness rather than repelled by it.  "Would it make you feel better if I burped, too?"

David's jaw actually drops in horror.  "No, it would not.  Literally at all."

"Okay," Patrick says, holding his hands up in surrender.  "But I just want you to know that there is really nothing to be embarrassed about.  You can't always control your body, right?"

David really doesn't know how to handle Patrick's blend of teasing and gentle sincerity right now.  Humiliation wars in him with his desire to let it go, because for some reason Patrick hasn't turned away at him, even after doing something as disgusting as — he has to swallow a gag at the thought — belching in public.  Finally, he sighs and looks at Patrick.  "Can we just drop it?  And never bring it up again?"

Patrick's eyes soften, though the teasing smile doesn't slip completely off his face.  "Consider it forgotten," he says.  And when he scrubs a firm hand over David's back, David lets himself think, maybe.  Maybe this, the first guy to still want to touch him after seeing his body betray him, maybe this one will work out.

There's a wet spot on David's shirt.  

It takes him a moment or two to orient himself — they're at Ray's, and Ray is out with a client.  It's their day off from work, and they're on the couch, and they must have fallen asleep watching TV.  Patrick's head is resting on David's chest, and his mouth is slightly open, and… 

Drool.  Patrick has drooled on his shirt.

David is first horrified by the drool on his shirt, because ew, and then he's horrified because in equal measure to his horror, he finds that he's finding this whole thing endearing.  And a bit relieving — finally, a tangible physical flaw, a little imperfection to prove that Patrick is a real person, who apparently drools in his sleep.

It's endearing enough that instead of leaping up and spot cleaning his shirt immediately, David finds himself petting a hand over Patrick's hair.  Patrick snuffles, and David does it again, encouraged.  When he runs his fingers between the shorn strands — not tugging, just seeing how it feels — Patrick sniffs and shifts and blinks awake, and David tugs his hand back guiltily.

"Mm," Patrick says, voice thick, not lifting his head from David's chest, "How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour and a half," David says, petting his hair again.

Patrick groans, wipes his mouth and lifts his head, and then he pauses.  "You got something…"  He points to the wet spot on David's shirt, and then stiffens.  "Oh my God," he says, and covers his face.  "David —"

"It's okay," David assures him, because for some reason it really is.  Because it's Patrick, and David has learned over the past several months that he'll make a lot more allowances for Patrick than he ever could have thought.

"It only happens when I sleep during the day," Patrick says from between his fingers. "I'm so sorry, I'll pay to have your shirt cleaned —"

"Hey," David says, pulling at Patrick's fingers.  "Don't touch your face, it's bad for your skin."  He succeeds in prying Patrick's hands away from his face, which is bright red.  David can't help but touch it; the warmth radiating off Patrick's skin is intoxicating, which is a thought he's interested in chasing down the line — but not right now.  "It's fine, Patrick."

Patrick chances a look up at him with the biggest set of puppy-dog eyes David has ever seen on an adult.  "But your shirt!  You're not mad?"

"I'm as surprised as you are," David tells him with absolute sincerity.  "But I guess…it's kind of…," he takes a long pause, looking for a word.  "Endearing."  He cringes, waiting for Patrick to react.

Patrick reacts by blushing harder, which David thinks is very fun and adorable of him, the bloodrush painting his ears, his neck.  "Okay," he says.  "I'm…really embarrassed," he admits.

"Mm, shocking," David can't help but tease.  "It's okay, Patrick.  I promise."

"Oh, you promise?"  Patrick shuffles up, eyes dropping to David's mouth.

"Mhmm," David says, smiling into the kiss Patrick offers him.  He pulls back and leans his forehead against Patrick's, and he can't help but think that maybe, at this exact second, everything really is okay.

They're driving home from a conference when he sees it.

David generally doesn't attend these sorts of functions, but this one was a one-day affair in Elmdale, there and back without having to stay in a dusty motel (Patrick had hit David with the driest expression in his repertoire when David had expressed this point), and there was a workshop called "The Power of a Cohesive Aesthetic," so David had agreed with what he considers to have been a very modest level of bitching.

The radio is on low and Patrick is relaxed, one hand on the bottom of the wheel and the other on David's thigh, chattering about the Greater Elms Business Association panel he attended, and David can't really be blamed for letting his attention drift a bit; watching Patrick's face move through his excitement is simply much more fun than actually listening to what the CFO of Elm Glenn's premiere laundry facility had to say about bargain buying.  They will not be applying that to the Apothecary, thanks so much.

David lets his gaze drift down Patrick's profile — the slight curl of the hair at his neck that says he's overdue for a cut, the stiff collar of his teal shirt, the strain of the fabric where he's rolled his cuffs up, the long, transparent sticker that reads XL XL XL XL down his chest — 

Wait a second.

"Um, Patrick, honey?"  David says delicately, completely disrupting whatever Patrick was saying about cheaper office supplies — although, actually, if Patrick wants to cut costs, carbon paper and premium colored ink are surely the places to do it.  "Is that a new shirt?"

"Yeah."  Patrick glances at him for a second, one eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly.  "You were with me when I bought this.  Do you not like it?"  He frowns.

David does remember — after being coerced into Kohls on the promise that he wouldn't have to try anything on himself, he'd actually quite enjoyed the little fashion show Patrick had given him, and it had gotten him into slim-fit jeans (he didn't buy them, but, baby steps).  And he remembers thoroughly endorsing this color on Patrick — it brings out his natural coloring a bit, so that even under the harshest fluorescents he doesn't look cadaverous.  That assessment is what probably led Patrick to wear it to a conference at a university, with its stupid economical lighting and paint jobs.

"I love the shirt," David says emphatically, because he doesn't want Patrick stuffing it in the back of his closet, never to be seen again.  "Um, it's just.  You've got a price tag..?"  He reaches over and delicately plucks at a corner of it; it separates from Patrick's chest with a soft ripping sound.  

"Oh my God," Patrick says; his eyes are on the road, but his ears redden considerably.  "Do you think that was there all day?"

"Um.  I don't think it magically appeared there halfway through the day.  So."  David cringes, trying to be sympathetic but unable to imagine leaving the house without checking over his clothes first. 

Patrick's face only flames further.  "I talked to so many people today!  David, I had a whole conversation with the president of the Greater —"

"Greater Elms Business Association, I know," David says, pained that he's in love with a man who cares about the opinion of the Greater Elm's Business Association's president.

"They must have thought I was an idiot," Patrick says miserably, shaking his head at the road.  "Damn it, and I really killed them with that joke about British accountants…"

David grits his teeth over that one.  "I'm sure they didn't notice.  I mean, I didn't notice, and I think I pay just a little more attention to your clothes slash body than the average person?"

Patrick's mouth twists.  "I guess that's true."

"Um, you guess?"  David paws at Patrick's shoulder playfully.  "When we get home I'll get you out of this shirt and prove it to you."  He tries for a sexy growl, knowing the effect will be more goofy (he's not really the growling type) and that it will make Patrick laugh.

He does laugh, just a little bit.  "I know what you're doing, David," he says, smiling sideways at the freeway, "and if you try to distract me now I will send us straight into a guardrail."

David pulls back.  "Wouldn't want that."  But Patrick's blush is almost gone.  "So…what else did you learn at your panel today?"  He knows he'll regret asking, but as Patrick lights back up and launches into a detailed description of whatever it is (so he's already zoning out, can he be blamed?) he's glad that he did.  He laces his fingers with Patrick's and watches his expressions shift and change, and humoring Patrick, pleasing him, lifting him back up is so easy and feels so good that David thinks he could do it for the rest of his life.