#one reason he would experiment on you would be to see if he could get a man pregnant

[queenk00k]

cupid's lead arrows // rafe cameron

Requested by anon

Request: Hi girl I love your writing 🫶🏻 Can you write about Rafe, who has been Reader’s best friend forever, but secretly has a crush on her? One day, Reader confesses that she’s dating someone, and Rafe does everything he can to break them up.

Summary: You finally get a boyfriend but something, or someone, seems intent on keeping you apart.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: This is literally all angst sorry

Note: My first Outer Banks fic in over 4 years lol please be kind! I got a little carried away...this lends itself to a part 2, if anyone likes it.

It’s not always a walk in the park when you’re Rafe Cameron’s best friend.

You’ve been inseparable since the first day of high school when you got paired together for a semester long project. Study sessions in the library (well, you would study, and Rafe would flirt with the cute library monitor) turned into after school hangouts at Tannyhill, which turned into hosting parties and heading to college together.

Did you ever have a crush on your best friend? Well fuck, have you seen him?

Not only is he gorgeous but you got to experience a whole different side of Rafe that not everyone got to see, the sweet side – loyal, caring, and pretty soft behind the scenes.

You spent years pining after Rafe, silently and stoically of course, never wanting to ruin your friendship by letting him know how you felt. You figured it was for the best and besides, you had lived through enough of Rafe’s girlfriends to know you weren’t ever going to be his type.

You’ve seen each other’s highest highs and lowest lows which, unfortunately for you both, Rafe seemed to have more than his fair share of. Much to the disappointment of your parents and the shock of your friends, you stuck by Rafe’s side through his drug addiction and his drinking problems and were there to pick up the pieces after his father died. Rafe, in turn, had your back when you had blow up fights with your mother and comforted you when you had problems with your friends.

Now, two years out of college and with Rafe mostly sober, you didn’t think there was anything you two couldn’t handle, nothing you couldn’t face together, nothing that could ever come between you.

Until you started dating Parker.

Rafe seemed happy for you when you first told him, hugging you and telling you he was proud of you for “finally getting some.” He was nice to Parker (by Rafe’s standards, which really meant not going out of his way to intimidate the guy) when you brought him to the beach and introduced them.

But as the weeks went by, you noticed a subtle shift in Rafe’s behaviour. You kept telling yourself you were being paranoid, that there’s no way Rafe could have an issue with Parker. He told you he was happy for you, right? And unlike the last potential boyfriends, Rafe didn’t try to scare him off.

But something was off.

You noticed Rafe was falling back into old habits that scared you. He was drinking more, often double parked at parties, and either loud and belligerent or sulking on his own in a corner.

And then then the incidents began. At first you just thought it was shit luck, but then it just started to feel like the universe was conspiring against you and Parker.

Turns out Rafe was conspiring against you and Parker.

It started when Parker seemingly ghosted you on one of your Friday night dates, leaving you alone and upset at the wharf before Rafe picked you up. Parker swore he had car issues, both his front tires punctured, and you figured that was a reasonable excuse.

Then the night of the annual bonfire, a harmless game of ‘never have I ever’ turned sour when Rafe and Topper kept coming up with the most oddly specific scenarios. Each of them left Parker putting down his fingers, looking sheepishly over at you as your cheeks turned red from embarrassment before you got up and left the circle, Rafe raising a beer bottle to his lips as he watched you intently. He followed after you that night and you melted into his arms, naïvely assuming your best friend was comforting you without an ulterior motive.

And now the worst of all – Topper had cornered you as you were leaving the driving range to ask if you knew Parker was spending time with his ex, and you finally snapped.

“Where did you hear this, Topper? Who told you?”

And because Topper was, above all, really just spineless, you got the answer out of him straight away.

Rafe. At the scene of the crime, three times in a row. What a fucking coincidence.

So, you decided you’d had enough of this bullshit, of Rafe playing games with your relationship, and you drove over to his house, marched up to his front door and banged on it with your fist until he finally opened up.

“Y/N!” he said, looking genuinely excited to see you. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to lose your shit just yet, not to get angry until you actually knew the truth.

“Do you like Parker? Do you want me to be with him?”

Rafe blinked at you, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What? I don’t-”

“Tell me the truth,” you cut in. “I want to hear you say it.”

Rafe stepped over the threshold and gently closed the door behind him, clearing his throat before he answered.

“No. I don’t, and I want you to break up with him,” he said, folding his arms.

You huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Right, well, that’s not going to happen. Thanks a lot,” you say, willing yourself not to cry as you turn around and walk away from your best friend.

“Y/N, please come back. I have my reasons!” Rafe raises his voice as he calls out to you.

“Why do you care so much? Is this some fake chivalrous ‘if I can’t have you, no one can’ bullshit? Just leave me alone, Rafe.” You say as you clamber down the front steps and start walking to your car.

“Because I love you, alright?!” Rafe shouts after you.

You stop, the righteous anger you were feeling only moments before threatening to dissipate into the humid night air. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply before turning around to face your best friend.

Rafe’s breathing heavily, running his hand over his head as if to erase what he just said.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his ring glinting in the moonlight as he chews on his thumb, looking pleadingly at you, willing you to say something, anything. The silence between you feels heavy as your mind races. He’s said it before of course, but it’s usually in jest, or after you help him with something. This feels different, and you know better than to assume it’s not.

“Rafe,” you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. “What are you doing?” You watch him warily as he takes a hesitant step towards you.

“I love you. I’m serious. More than best friends, more than anything we’ve been in the past. I love you and I…I can’t stand to see you with someone else. I can’t let it happen.”

“You have no right-”

“He’s not a good guy, y/n!” Rafe raises his voice again, making you flinch slightly. You scoff at his words, throwing him an incredulous glare.

“Like you can talk, Rafe. I know you – more than anyone else. You’re not exactly in a position to be telling me who’s good for me or not,” you snap.

Rafe huffs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Yeah, you got me. I’m not perfect, fine, but I know you and I know you shouldn’t be with Parker. That’s why I-” Rafe stops abruptly, his mouth twisting.

You step closer to him, closing the gap between you. “That’s why you what, Rafe?” Your heart pounds and you’re sure you’re about to have your suspicions confirmed. When Rafe stands there, dumbstruck and silent, you answer for him.

“You’re the one who started that rumour about Parker and his ex, aren’t you?”

Rafe’s silence tells you everything you need to know. You shake your head, not quite believing that your best friend would try and sabotage your relationship like this.

“And the bonfire? That was on purpose, wasn’t it? You got some dirt on Parker and wanted me to know about it.”

Rafe winced. “Well, Topper helped with that one. But seriously, this is all for your own good. I’m trying to protect you!”

You hold your hand up. “Stop. Just stop. How could you do this? Why would you try and break us up like this, just because you’re jealous? Why can’t you just let me be happy? Not to mention, you’ve been hurting me, Rafe! You’re not just hurting Parker; you’re destroying me in the process.”

You’re crying now, feeling betrayed. You had barely noticed but it had started to rain, the droplets mixing with your tears to run mascara down your cheeks. Rafe has the audacity to look concerned and regretful, to move as if to hug you and you shake his arm off before jabbing your index finger into his chest.

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Rafe. You had your chance! For years! Just because you’ve finally fucking woken up doesn’t mean you get to ruin my happiness. And now this bullshit about Parker’s family? That’s low, even for you,” you spit, the brief warmth you felt when Rafe told you he loved you now completely cold.

Rafe shook his head. “No, no, you don’t get it! That’s all true! They’re shady fucking people and God, that’s coming from a Cameron. You can’t get caught up in their mess,” he pleads.

“You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to believe you now! Why should I?” you yell before spinning on your heel and stalking down the driveway to your car, being careful to not slip on the pavement.

“Y/N, wait!” Rafe calls and he catches up to you in two long strides, grabbing your wrist with his large hand. His white button-down shirt was almost transparent now and the rain was running in rivers off his nose as he looked down at you.

“Please,” he begs. “Come inside. Let me explain. I love you, y/n, please,” Rafe looks desperate, and you almost pity him before you snap back to reality and remember why you’re so angry.

“I’m going to my boyfriend’s house,” you snarl, tugging your wrist out of his grip. “And if you follow me Rafe, I swear to God, I will never speak to you again.”

With that, you yank open your car door and put the keys in the ignition with shaking hands.

“FUCK!”

As you pull away, you can hear Rafe yelling your name.

You don’t even look in the rearview mirror as you turn out of his street, tires squealing.

[lu-is-not-ok]

A Narcissistic reading of Hong Lu

Yup, I'm actually doing this.

To lay down some facts first: I have NPD, alongside a bunch of other things that coalesce into a nuclear concoction strong enough to kill every dark empath in a five mile radius. If I find you ableisting it up, I give myself the permission to smite you. This is a threat and a warning.

Now, let's talk about Hong Lu. Because as it turns out, he might just be the most difficult literacy check in Limbus Company according to what I've seen.

I could just say "I'm a narcissist and Hong Lu is just like me fr fr so he's a narcissist too" and end the post, but honestly, where's the fun in that? There are, legitimately, things I want to yap about, so I'm going to yap about them, and no chucklefucks can stop me.

So, to start this off, let's make one thing clear.

Hong Lu is not only a good actor, but also a skilled liar. The way he navigates conversations and the methods he uses are just as important to analyze as the actual words he says, if not more so. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that trying to understand him based Only on what he says and not how he uses the things he says would result in an understanding that's not only incomplete, but potentially outright wrong.

Now, this isn't really tied to why I think Hong Lu could be very reasonably read as having NPD, at least not directly. Narcissists aren't inherently evil liar manipulators, and if that's what you take away from this post, that's more of a you problem (and you can go ahead and block me considering I'm one of the evil liar manipulator narcissists according to you).

However, there is a reason why I have to bring it up. And it's because almost all of Hong Lu's narcissistic traits become a lot more obvious once you look at the exact ways he takes control of conversations.

With that out of the way, what exactly are we even looking for?

NPD, in my experience, primarily affects one's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I personally found that the analogy of a pendulum makes the most sense to me - a narcissist's sense of self-worth can swing between massive highs and massive lows, almost never staying in a middle "balanced" position, with even the tiniest things being able to throw it to one side or another.

The ways this can present outwardly are. Quite frankly, way too fucking many to count. But there are some common threads we can keep in mind:

High sensitivity to criticism

Need for an external source of validation

Tendency to seek out ways to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful

So, does Hong Lu fit those criteria?

Well. Yeah. This post wouldn't exist if he didn't.

Let's talk about the first point, high sensitivity to criticism. And, immediately, I would like everyone to remember Hell's Chicken, specifically the scene where Meursault begins to verbally roast his team's dish, and in the process laying down a verbal smackdown on everyone involved. That scene ended like this.

Curious, isn't it? The moment Meursault was about to start criticising Hong Lu, he just jumps in and distracts Meursault with a change of topic - something even Dante's narration points out.

Mind you, this isn't an isolated event. This is just the most obvious example of Hong Lu exhibiting this kind of behavior.

Don't believe me? Just look at these.

These are all examples of Hong Lu either backpedaling, changing the subject, or otherwise trying to avoid the acknowledgement of something that criticizes his status, thought process, or (in the last example) which would reveal an emotional vulnerability.

This is a fairly consistent pattern for him, and that's not even getting into the fact that the line he says when hovering over him before a skill check he has a Very Low chance at succeeding in has him suddenly try to excuse himself and leave.

Hong Lu is absolutely highly sensitive to criticism, it's just that his primary emotional reactions aren't ones we're privy to. Instead, what we get to see is how he acts to try and minimize the impact of those criticisms, if not outright find ways to never let them leave someone's mouth in the first place.

Next up - need for external validation.

This one doesn't have as many examples as the previous point, as Hong Lu is a generally closed off person who keeps a certain level of distance from most other Sinners. However, that doesn't mean I don't have any.

One such example comes from Canto 4, where soon after acting out his part in the play, Hong Lu seeks validation from Yi Sang.

Then there's this moment in Canto 6, where Hong Lu, once again, seeks validation for something he's done.

And then there's also these lines from Hong Lu's various Identities.

Aaaand then there's these base Identity voice lines, which, if you ask me, feel a bit like fishing for compliments.

This point is a lot harder to say is a definitive one, mainly due to Hong Lu's more closed off projected personality. That being said, the fact that one can find examples of it despite that is pretty notable.

And for the final one - trying to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful.

This is one that's a bit harder to provide exact examples for, as again, Hong Lu isn't someone who talks about how he feels often, and when he does it's not always exactly trustworthy. He's not like Rodya, who while still putting on a facade, is pretty open and easy to read about how she actually feels.

But, there's still some non-mutually exclusive interpretations I want to posit here. Two, in fact.

One - I believe that for Hong Lu, the thing he sees as power is control.

See, avoiding criticism isn't the only time Hong Lu steers conversations. In fact, it's something he does All The Time. He's often the one asking questions to get the group moving, trying to gather information that might be relevant to him, and generally taking over the direction a conversation is going in. Chances are, if Hong Lu speaks up, it's likely to alter the conversation he joins in noticeable ways.

This, I think, is one of the ways Hong Lu makes himself feel more powerful. After all, it's not that hard to guess from what little bits of his background we have that Hong Lu lacked agency for most of his life. So, wouldn't it make sense for him that having that agency, that being able to be socially in control, would be the exact kind of thing that would boost his self-esteem?

In fact, the only times we see him rendered completely speechless, seemingly stripped of that confidence in conversations he usually exhibits, are in Canto 7 - specifically in scenes where he's Not In Control of what the others are talking about. Those scenes being when the other Sinners start shit-talking Xichun in front of him, and when Xichun actively tries to bother Hong Lu by alluding to the way he's been treated back at home.

Extremely confident until something external happens that utterly strips him of that confidence... sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Then, there's the second interpretation.

See, with NPD, there are two ways a narcissist can try to make themself feel more deserving of attention. One is the one most probably think of when they think about narcissists - setting out to fulfill extremely high goals to feel amazing when one reached them and then feeling utterly crushed in the case one doesn't. This would be someone like Rodya.

However, there is also another way, one which I personally have much more experience with - to undersell. To set extremely low expectations, so that it's as hard as possible to fail reaching them, and to feel way better upon surpassing them than one would with higher, more "regular" expectations.

This, to me, is exactly the kind of narcissist Hong Lu is. Think about it. He's constantly putting out this image of an extremely sheltered person that barely understands the outside world, with notable moments where it's made clear he's Just Making Shit Up at points. Wouldn't making one seem unable to do anything, only to then proceed to do things you've led people to not expect of you, make it feel like you're much more exceptional than you really are?

The underselling goes the other way too. When the other Sinners point out something odd about Hong Lu in a more positive way, he's often quick to point out how it's Nothing compared to what his Family expected of him. Wouldn't that make one feel exceptional, to make it seem like whatever effort you're putting in to do well is but a fraction of what else you can do? That you don't even have to try to be able to be special?

...So, there. That's all the analysis and interpretation I find important to do to get my point across.

Just to make it clear, I don't think that the only thing wrong with Hong Lu is the narcissism. There's definitely a lot more shit going on in that head of his. But, I'll be honest, the NPD reading felt so obvious to me that it genuinely took me by surprise that other people don't see it.

Though... maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Some fuckers out there still think Faust is a narcissist when she's literally just autistic.

[turtle-steverogers]

i rlly like ur posts abt how steves rough time with his dad as a little kid affects him later in life. i was wondering do u think the other avengers notice? and if they do what do you think they think/do about it?

also tbh i rlly like ur posts in general lol. i hope you have a good day!

I think the other Avengers notice after some time, considering most of them have similar experiences. I imagine it's sort of an unspoken thing, but it's almost... more notable on Steve, because he's so goddamn young and because when he wakes up from the ice, he's so goddamn stretched thin, that the reserves he usually has to shove all those old habits into a box are low. He's jumpy, the others notice. A raised voice-- especially male-- makes him flinch before he smooths out his face. Making requests is hard for him, and mistakes-- even small ones-- are met with scrambling apologies and frantic attempts to fix the problems.

No one says anything, because they know what it's like, and they don't want him to feel cornered. But there's a hard mission, and he and Natasha are alone in a motel room, and Steve is so clearly low. Kids had been involved. And Natasha had seen the way Steve had shut down to see the marks and bruises on the little boy and girl they'd gotten out of a trafficking situation, and she understood. Albeit for different reasons, but at the core, the pain was the same. They'd both just been kids when they were hurt. Young and lost and wondering what they'd done to deserve the grown ups around them squashing them down and making them feel no better than the dirt.

He doesn't say anything, so she doesn't either. But that night, she can't sleep, and neither can he, and when she hears him shift, roll over. Curl onto his side as the silent tears start, she can't stand it anymore.

Her bed creaks as she slides out, ignoring the rough crunch of the carpet as she pads over to Steve's bed and climbs in behind him.

She crawls onto the bed behind him, stretching out. "Can I hold you?" she whispers. Steve shrugs. He doesn't care. He doesn't understand why she would want to be the big spoon to his hulking frame, but if she wants to, he won't stop her. He's too tired to. He feels her wiggle close and slides an arm over his chest, hugging him flush against her. Her palm rests over his heart and she rubs, soothing.

It eases some of the weight. Some of the ache. He breathes, shaky. She kisses the back of his neck. It's quiet for a long time.

Natasha's voice is soft and private when she speaks. "It hurts, what they did to us, doesn't it?"

Steve freezes, listening. Natasha holds on. He doesn't move her.

"Why would anyone treat children that way? Hurt them that way?"

Steve clenched his jaw, resignation in his gut. "How could you tell?"

Natasha sighs. "I put it together, more or less."

Steve nods and doesn't say anything. It's quiet here, outside the city. The world dark and lacking that telltale bustle. Steve hates it.

"It's alright that you're hurting still," Natasha continues, and Steve wants to beg her to stop, but he's too curious, too desperate for someone to see him that he doesn't. "It's okay that you're still scared. You're safe, darling... you don't have to believe that yet."

He starts to tremble.

"Shh, baby, hey," she soothes and her voice is easy to stomach. Easy to understand. "Breathe for me."

He sucks in a deep breath.

"Did they hit you in the Red Room?" he asks.

"Sometimes," Natasha says. "It was calculated, though. Discipline."

Discipline. Steve doesn't think his father meant for his hits to be discipline. They were just... correction. To get him to shut up. Or maybe so he could get his anger out.

"Breathe," Natasha reminds again. Steve takes another measured breath. "You don't have to tell me anything. But you can. I won't get it all, but I might understand."

Steve considers that. "How old were you? When it started?"

"I don't remember," Natasha said. "Very young. Four, maybe? You?"

"I don't remember either," Steve whispers, and he's furious. Suddenly, he wants to set the world on fire. For the little girl who just wanted a chance to see the sunshine, and for the little boy who just wanted to play. "Maybe the same."

They fall back into silence. Steve can feel his teeth chattering. Natasha starts humming a song, simple and soothing under her breath. He knows he doesn't have to say anything else; she understands. He lets his eyes fall shut again.

[k-tarotz]

mtl enha who'd be more into serious relationship ? 🥰

MTL - who prefers serious relationships - Enhypen

Sunghoon

Jay

Niki

Jungwon

Heesung

Jake

Sunoo

Sunghoon and Jay's energy are more like "I want something stable, even in chaotic times where nothing is set in stone I want to have this one person in my life who will always be here for me even if everything else is burning around me" Hmm although jay would be more open to go on dates, like multiple ones, to get to know xzy better and to see if they are compatible if so he would go on more dates with the person and become a couple if it feels right, if not he would accept that it's just not meant to be and move on - going on dates with someone else. Not necessarily within a short time range, his career seems more important to him, but he kinda has the mindset of 'this could be the one this time!' You know? Kinda hopeful for himself, he doesn't want to accidentally miss his s/o also more open to look for love, he wants love in his life.

Meanwhile sunghoon is a bit more picky on that, he doesn't go on dates and if he does it's rarely, I can see him not really having the energy for this unless he is really interested in a person and wants to get to know them for real. So he is more likely to turn down date's if he doesn't already feel interested at least in some type of way. He has the mindset of "if it's meant to be it will happen regardless" also believes more in fate and soulmates, that there is always a way that his romantic soulmate will find him somehow and if necessary more than once. His energy is telling me that he is insecure and in his low moments he even thinks 'would they even love me the way I am right now?' Talking about that, another reason why he rarely goes on dates is also because he doesn't want to date or even become a couple with someone who only likes him for his fame or his looks - this boy has been asked out many many times in his life, even before he became an idol, he is aware that there are people, regardless if it's fans or someone in the same industry as him, who literally only want him for his public persona, his looks or his fame but he doesn't want that, he wants someone who will like him for his personality and he says that's not as smooth as it might seem but I won't get into this further. Sunghoon would also like his parents to approve of whoever he will end up with, it seems important to him at least that's his mindset for now.

Niki is similar to jay and sunghoon, he also wants to find the one and wants to feel loved while giving love back, he is more likely to turn dates down too but might ask someone out if they catch his eye - especially with some sort of talent, like dancing. He is a bit unsure what exactly he wants yet, might be attracted to different kind of people (so for example he doesn't prefer only cute girls/boys or only sexy ones) it's like everyone is different so they can have a different charm and whatever suits them he will be attracted to them rather for themselves than their style - and of course the personality too although he might prefer someone who's a bit calmer/cooler vibe than someone who's very extroverted and loves spotlight (not saying he wouldn't be interested in someone who's extroverted as long as it's not too much)

Jungwon would prefer a serious relationship too, one thar can last a few years, but he also doesn't want to settle down too fast? So if he looses feelings or something happens within the relationship that lasted years then he wouldn't mind breaking up and moving on instead of trying to fix something that's too broken to fix. He definitely wants to make more experiences and therefore is more open for dates, might as well get a bit touchy if the setting and everything else feels right (he doesn't mean sexual things though, especially not on the first nor second date) his energy is also telling me that he is the type who would be interested in both - fans and other idols / someone who's a public person

Heesung, Jake and sunoo are the type who don't want anything serious yet - though if it happens they will stay. What I'm hearing is "I'm still young" so they definitely want to date around more and are also more willing to get into short term relationships knowing they won't last as long as it feels good and right in the moment. Sunoos energy seems a bit hurt, his relationships doesn't always end on good terms despite that he knows that it wasn't meant to last, but the way of the break up sometimes leave a small scar on his soul. He's a bit different from Jake and Heesung in this because he wouldn't actually mind being in a longterm relationship, he definitely wants someone stable in his life who he can genuinely open up to and be just himself also someone he can tell anything to, who won't kiss and tell, so definitely someone trustworthy - but for some reason it just doesn't want to turn out the way he wants to. "Why does everyone get a happy ending but not me?" He is emotionally very vulnerable, he wants someone who will last although he thinks sometimes like "even if this one won't last, I want to be happy for aa long as I can until it ends" he also gets crushes quite easily, not serious ones but still. From those two he is definitely more open for a serious relationship, but can handle shorter ones good as long as they don't end messy/painfully because he can move on and he knows his own worth and believes almost manifests someone new into his life. Jake and Heesung are similar to each other in this sense because they would prefer making more experiences (sexually as well) with more than just one or two people in their life. Definitely both of them are more open for dates, one of them might even find it a bit thrilling to kiss without knowing thr other one's name yet, only finding it out afterwards. Looks and talents is what would sway them, personality would make them stay. Both of them the types to get into short-term relationships without regrets (as long as it doesn't end messy/painful) "I'll marry the one o truly love when I will be ready, but right now I am not, it will take a few years and until then I want to be free" also both of them seem to prefer being more experienced than their future spouse's, kinda want to hear how good they are right at their first time with their fs (no idea why they wanted me to tell this but ig I appreciate the honesty😭)

This was kind of a bit chaotic but very real, no sugarcoating. This was done intuitively although afterwards I checked with my tarot cards to make sure I didn't misinterpret any message of their energies 🫶🏻 some were more willing to talk than others and I won't force anyone to say more than they want, therefore some members sections are a bit shorter and some a bit longer 🩵

- Hun

[r0-boat]

Something we all wanted

Zagan NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The first thing he'll do is get water for you It's important to stay hydrated after an intense 'workout.'

Though he doesn't want you leaving the bed. He just wants a little more time with you, holding you close and brushing against your chest. He's really just a large puppy.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It's a silly reason but he likes your hands It's not anything sexual really He just likes when you pet him. When he craves your touch he leans his head against your shoulder and hopes you understand what he wants.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves covering your face and body in his cum, His heart pounds in his chest and he can't look at you straight. It drives him crazy.

He's kind of shy about that And he always tries to clean you up right away with a damp towel. If you lick any of his come off you he will go into cardiac arrest.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Zagan thinks about you a lot, a lot a lot. Fantasies that will never see the light of day because he's too nervous to admit his desires.

One of his fantasies is just keeping you and his bed fucking you over and over till he can't move his hips anymore till his whole body hurts.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Experienced hasn't done it in a long time since he wasn't interested in a lot of his partners before you. He's a little nervous

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He actually has a book on sex positions. And likes to try different ones. Though his favorite ones are anything where he could still see your body move underneath him. He also likes the ones where he can show off his strength to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tends to be more on the serious side That doesn't mean you can't be goofy during sex.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Zagan is a hairy boy but he's still kept with a happy trail from his 'carpet' to his belly button

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Surprisingly extremely cuddly especially before and after sex, All he wants to do is wrap his arms around you and pepper your body with kisses. Zagan doesn't really get a chance to cuddle and fully express his affection to people he loves. So when he's with you in bed he wants to let it all out.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't jack off as much as you think he does, because he'd rather just be in bed with you. His hand is just not as good as you're tight walls wrapped around him. And he'd rather be thrusting inside you then fucking his hand.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Other than a slight praise kink, Zagan is vanilla, He just likes sex though that doesn't mean he won't try things with you. In fact he would be excited. Puppy boy want to try the things you like.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

It's a fantasy of his to fuck in the gym room. Though he doesn't think it would ever be fulfilled so he's a little self-conscious about it.

He'd rather fuck in bedrooms since he doesn't want people to see you like this.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's very specific but when you were working out especially in looser clothing or baggier clothing. To him there's nothing hotter than your intense focus and your sweaty body he just wants to see what's under the clothing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Zagan would never ever do something without your consent. Even if you beg for it he'll be so uncomfortable. He will also never ever choke or spank or hurt you. Seeing bruises on your skin just reminds him how fragile humans are.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving, all Zagan wants to do is give you pleasure. He can't sit still even when you're the one giving His hands have to do something.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It always starts off slow and sensual but devolves into fast and rough. Once he gets into it he's practically rocking the bed as the slapping of skin feels the room but he always checks in to make sure you're okay.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Zagan loves quickies He's always particularly horny after workouts and if you're alone he will always try to go for it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Zagan Will do almost anything you want to do. Puppy boy wants to please you and make you happy That smile is what he wants to see! And pleasured screams is what he wants to hear!

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Zagan's stamina is on par with Mammon He just doesn't really show it that much. One round is usually never enough to satisfy him. He needs more.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No toys :(. He might get a little jealous, because he wants to be the one pleasuring you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't tease you much but he can't deny how that pouty little face makes him feel. How can you be so cute? But when you tease him he can't take it just the slightest touch makes him drooling and wanting more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The most you're going to get out of him is breaths and groans but there's only one way to get him loud ;)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Ride him. Write him and that quiet boy will lose it His eyes were real back as you'll hear his voice wailing and moaning. Fingers will dig into your ass trying to buck up into you. Zagan is on the verge of audibly begging for more

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Zagan is a little proud of how big he is. His dick size is on par with the kings. Watching your eyes widen is such an ego boost for him. He's beaming on the inside.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You can tell when he is particularly pent up when he's more needy, when he starts touching you and kissing your neck and public. When he lets out a whimper and berries his face in your neck pressing his crotch against your ass. He knows that you can't really understand him so he has to convey his feelings in other ways.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Zagan is always busy, so we can't afford to rest, but when he does at the time and when you're cuddled up to his chest like this, he's in pure bliss.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

takin’ what’s not yours

chapter 1

tags: pre portal, hurt/comfort, angst, Stan & Ford needs a hug, reader too, emotional manipulation, everyone needs therapy but that’s not happening, mystery trio dynamics if you squint, billford?? hmmm

author note: guys i swear this was supposed to be a shameless porn threesome fic, but then Ford and Stan showed up with a whole suitcase of unresolved issues im so sorry

“You’re gonna change the world, Ford.”

“Only if you’re there to see it.”

***

Backsmore University. What a fucking place.

It wasn’t just the old brick buildings or the ivy creeping up the sides. Not really. It was the people. The crazy mix of the smartest, weirdest people you could imagine. You were one of them, no doubt. An absolute nerd with a lab coat on 90% of the time, a mess of papers and equations in your backpack and a head full of ideas and knowledge. But unlike Ford, you weren’t shy about showing it. You thrived in it, honestly. Lectures? Boring as hell, but the energy in the halls? The potential of every single person you met? Yeah, you were there for it.

One of these was Ford Filbrick Pines.

The ultimate BMU enigma, the textbook definition of nerdy. For some reason, his persona always made you think he was hiding some secret genius-level insanity behind his weirdly serious face. 

You’d laugh about it with your friends, the way he avoided talking to anyone. Classic “genius who’s too good for people” type.

He was everywhere, and yet, nowhere at all. Seriously, you could walk through the student lounge, see him hunched over a pile of research papers in the corner and just know you were witnessing something profound. He didn’t get what you were about at first.

You were funny, obnoxious even, always the first to crack a joke or make a ridiculous observation in class. Meanwhile Ford would just stare at you with those big eyes like he was trying to figure out if you were some kind of social experiment.

But then you started talking, typical nerds topics. About quantum physics, mathematics, about the mysteries of the universe, about everything. He’d scoff at how crazy your ideas were but then, just a second later, he'd be scribbling down some insane theory of his own that he wouldn’t even tell anyone else about. And you’d get it. You both would sit in the library, trading theories and arguing about the tiniest details of space-time.

You were the loud one, in Ford’s opinion, the one who could hold a conversation about quantum theory and drag Ford to a campus party all in the same breath. He’d grumble the whole way, saying it was a waste of time, rolling his eyes at your insistence that he needed a little break. He’d follow you through those sticky, badly lit student lounges, watching you laugh with people he’d probably never even look at twice.

These late nights when you’d drag him out to stargaze, pointing out constellations, half-naming stars you didn’t know, laughing when he’d shake his head, muttering about inaccurate astronomy. But he always went along with it, always ended up laying beside you on the grass, looking up at a sky he could never quite make sense of but was desperate to understand.

The graduation day. You clearly remember that one.

The sun was so bright you could barely keep your eyes open and everything felt like a dream. You had your cap crooked on your head (you were probably running late, as usual), your tassel swinging as you walked across the field, your friends beside you, shouting and celebrating like you were all in the fucking “after party of the year.” But then you turned and your eyes saw Ford, who was clutching that damn diploma like it was a golden ticket. He looked different somehow, like he’d finally unlocked a new version of himself. 

The Stanford Pines himself, recipient of Backsmore’s largest grant for his “eccentric” research, standing with his square academic cap, although it was comically slipping off his head. He looked out of place, like a scientist among a sea of partying students who could barely remember their names half the time.

So, you did what any good friend would do— you adjusted his cap for him, (plus you wanted an excuse to touch him), made some dumb joke about how he’d better not screw it up. He’d roll his eyes, but you knew he liked it. He needed it.

“Hey,” you grinned, “looking pretty fancy for someone who spends all their time talking to aliens or whatever.”

Ford smirked. “I’ve already got a date with a space-time continuum. But you can join if you want.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile didn’t leave.

***

Outside, the world has turned into a kind of cold, quiet hell. Snow falls in thick slow flakes, burying everything in a suffocating blanket of white. And Stan stands there, jacket pulled tight against his chest, staring up at the looming silhouette of his brother's house.

It's freezing, but Stan hardly feels the cold. Not really.

It’s quiet here, but it’s not peaceful. Silence feels heavy, like it’s watching him.

His thoughts are pulled back to a time that feels both recent and impossibly distant.

Ten years. Ten goddamn years. It’s been a decade since he's seen Ford’s face. Well, of course he doesn't expect Ford to look like something completely different, they’re twins after all. But at least now Stan knows what Ford would look like with a mullet.

Stanford was always the smart one, the golden kid, with big brains and hands that tinkered with mysteries beyond Stan’s understanding. And now. . . after all these years of silence, Ford finally decides he needs him. It’s a postcard, a single damn postcard, that drags Stan out of the muck and dumps him back here in this town, holding secrets and god knows what kind of twisted shit his brother’s got himself mixed up in.

After everything Ford did, after leaving, after barely even thinking to check in after all these years, Stan knows he shouldn't feel this way. But here he is. Waiting. Hoping. Hoping against hope, as if somehow, that tall figure would come striding down the snowy path, arms filled with books and that same serious look on his face. That same one he had as a kid when something big was on his mind. 

Stan shakes his head, letting out a breath that forms a small cloud in the icy air.

“Ten years, and you drag me here for what, Stanford?” he thinks.

Stan takes a deep breath, the cold seeps right down to his bones, but it’s not the winter’s chill that makes him shiver. His heart pounds as he stares at the weathered door in front of him, trying to shake off the surge of memories of the two of them, inseparable, back when they thought the world couldn’t touch them. But that was more than a lifetime ago.

He mutters to himself, “you haven’t seen your brother in over ten years. It’s okay. He’s family. . . He won’t bite.” or at least Stan hopes so and then he knocks, half-heartedly, already bracing himself.

The door swings open with a sudden jolt. Before Stan can even greet him, Ford’s voice booms through the biting air. "WHO IS IT?! Have you come to steal my eyes?!” his trembling hands grip a crossbow, pointed directly at Stan, and the first thing Stan notices are his brother’s eyes — wide and paranoid.

Stan looks at Ford, steps back a little, blinks, then blinks again. He tries to mask the pang of hurt as he lets out a shaky laugh, “Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome.”

Ford lowers the weapon slightly, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and then, as if finally recognizing the person standing before him, he blurts, “Stanley, did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?”

“Eh, hello to you too, pal.” Stan grumbles, but to his surprise, Ford grabs him by the clothes, yanking him roughly inside before he can even process it. "Ah!" he exclaims, stumbling forward, before the door slams shut behind them.

Ford, still skittish, shines a flashlight in Stan’s eyes, his fingers trembling as he holds it, blinding his brother. “What is this?!” Stan shoves the flashlight away.

Deep down, though, he tries to mask the pang that Ford’s mistrust strikes in him. What happened between you two? Mom would be so upset about their relationship. They used to share everything, trust each other without question, without even a word. Now here they are, stumbling through a reunion that feels like walking on broken glass.

"Sorry,” Stanford answers quickly, studying Stan’s face as if looking for lies hidden in his eyes. “I just had to make sure you weren’t. . . It’s nothing. Come in, come in.”

Stan follows him, the warmth he thought he’d feel upon seeing his brother slowly cooling into something he doesn’t want to admit that feels like disappointment. He watches Ford flit around the room, casting paranoid glances, clutching onto a battered old journal like it’s the only thing holding him together.

The shack is cluttered, papers scattered on the floor, strange devices cluttering the tables, books piled high. Wow, Stan thinks, the whole place screams my brother has been here alone too long.

It makes Stan's chest tighten.

“Uh, you gonna explain what’s going on here? you’re acting like mom after her tenth cup of coffee.” he is trying to defuse the atmosphere somehow, to make contact, but inside, his heart aches. He missed Ford; he missed him like hell. And to finally be here, standing right next to him, only to find him. . . like this. Seriously? It’s almost too much to bear.

Ford, ignoring the gentle jab, clutches the journal tighter. “Listen, there isn’t much time. I’ve made huge mistakes and I don’t know who I can trust anymore.” he doesn’t meet Stan’s eyes as he glances at a skeleton in the corner, twisting its head away from him.

Stan’s heart drops. This is bad, worse than he thought.

He steps forward, placing a hand on Ford’s shoulder, a touch he hopes can somehow bridge the miles and years between them. “Hey, easy there. Let’s talk this through, okay?”

But Ford pulls back, a strange, paranoid look in his eyes. His fingers trace the spine of the journal as he glances at Stan. “I have something to show you. Something you won’t believe.”

Stan's brow furrows, his curiosity piqued despite himself. What could it be? Some kind of super scientific bullshit that opens doors to parallel worlds? A time machine? A wormhole? Black hole made at home?

He looks at Ford, how the man hasn’t aged a day physically, but the exhaustion, the fear, the isolation, it all is painted on his brother’s face. It’s painful to see. It’s heartbreaking to think how Ford might have been living in this place, alone with nothing but his thoughts, trapped in his own world of mistakes and fears.

Stan manages a weak grin, masking his own fear for brothers sanity in his heart. "Look, I’ve been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I’ll understand."

That twist in your chest, that awful, prickling feeling that something’s wrong.

You’re curled up at your kitchen table, sipping your tea with that kind of numbness you get when you’ve been overthinking too much. You told yourself to back off. He needed space. He needed time.

But when Stan’s eyes scan the giant, hulking portal machine in front of him, he can’t hide the bewilderment as he adds, “There’s nothing about this I understand.”

Ford’s hand wrapped tight protective around his journal. It’s the only one left, his last remaining key to understanding, to protecting everything he’s worked for. 

But now Stan stands across from him and his face clearly shows something what can be called betrayal.

Ford’s been distant. Secretive, even. The last time you two spoke, it was tense, full of anger and words you didn’t mean. It shouldn’t matter, you tell yourself, but the thought of him out there, alone, is like a weight pressing down on your chest.

Ford tries to explain as if Stan would understand. “It's a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explain how to operate it. There's only one journal left. . . and you are the only person I can trust to take it.” he steps forward, holding the journal out to Stan, eyes pleading. “I have something to ask of you: remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?” Stan’s face shines with smile until he hears next shit his brother say. “Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as ya can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!”

I should’ve just stayed, I shouldn’t have left.

Your fingers curl around the warm mug, but sadly the heat doing nothing to soothe the anxiety creeping up your throat.

You set it down on the counter, trying to shake off the feeling. It’s just the storm, it’s just you being overdramatic. It doesn’t mean anything.

But the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle.

Something’s wrong.

“That’s it? You finally show your face after ten fucking years and all you’ve got to say is ‘get away’?”

Ford's hand drops and disappointment flashes across his face. “Stanley, you don't understand what I'm up against! What I've been through!”

“Oh, yeah?” Stan can't contain his emotions. How dare he?! “You don’t understand what I’ve been through! Three different prisons, Stanford! I’ve chewed my way out of a goddamn car trunk! Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money, because you only care about yourself!”

With a sigh, you stand up, setting the mug down on the table as your dog, a sweet, eager little spaniel, looks up at you with wide, curious eyes.

Ford's temper snaps because he can't believe what the fuck his brother is talking about. “I’m selfish? I’m selfish, Stanley? You ruined my shot at a real life! At my dream school! And here I am, giving you a chance to do something meaningful and you still can’t get it through your head!”

You glance over at your dog, a scruffy, affectionate spaniel with big brown eyes who’s been staring at you from the corner of the room.

Stan raises his eyebrows. “Yeah? You want this fucking book gone?” he yanks a lighter from his pocket, the flame flaring up as he flicks it. “Fine. I’ll get rid of it right fucking now.” he holds the journal over the flame, daring Ford to make a move.

You can’t shake this feeling, this urge to go find Ford, even if it means dragging yourself out into the goddamn blizzard.

“I’ll be back soon, girl,” you murmur, pulling on your coat. You don’t know what you’re looking for, don’t even know what you’re hoping to find. But you have to see him. You have to know

Ford’s eyes widen, panic flashing across his face. “No!” he lunges for it, reaching out, but Stan yanks it back. “You don’t understand!” Ford shouts, desperation pouring through him.

But Stan takes a step back, holding the journal dangerously close to the flame. “You want me to take it? Well, then, I’ll decide what to do with it.”

“My research!” they jerk the book back and forth, playing a fucked up game of tug of war, their yells echoing through the lab as they struggle over it.

You can’t shake the feeling, it’s like something’s dragging you forward, pulling you toward him, toward the unknown.

It’s late and the woods are fucking silent, which is weird for Gravity Falls. You’ve been running for what feels like hours, your chest burning, your mind tangled in a mess of thoughts you can’t quite shake. Every goddamn thing with Ford lately has been a disaster, hasn’t it? One fight after another, with him shutting down, disappearing into his head like he’s always been known to do.

The last words you shared with him are still fresh in your mind, “this is it, okay?! I can’t do this anymore.” he didn’t even fight back, just. . . stared at you like you were the problem. Maybe you were the problem, you don’t know, but damn it, you cared. You couldn’t just pretend like everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t. That’s why you’re out here, because you’re not about to let him get swallowed up by whatever the hell is going on in that messed-up head of his.

And now, here you are, halfway to his place with nothing but your gut telling you that whatever was going down at Ford’s place was way worse than you thought.

When you enter, you hear the kind of noise— angry, violent, something breaking and you know Ford’s involved, you just know it. You don’t care if you two haven’t spoken in days, if things between you and him are a mess of unsaid things and frustrated silences. He’s been acting so off, and now, hearing the absolute mayhem erupting inside, you’re terrified.

The sounds are loud, shouting voices, furniture crashing, angry grunts. Your heart fucking stops as you push the door open so fast it slams against the wall. You’re not thinking, not caring that maybe you shouldn’t be here, but it’s too late to stop now.

At first, you think you've completely lost your mind, because you're seeing two Ford Pines. And then you think, either you're the one who's gone crazy, or Ford has, because he's literally fighting with himself.

But as you take a breath, both Fords turn to look at you, and that’s when it hits you: this isn’t just some bizarre mirror trick. There’s Ford and then there’s someone who looks a whole lot like him, but is definitely, absolutely not him.

“What the fuck is going on?” your voice rings out much louder than you meant, but you don’t care. Your heart is pounding way too hard and your feet are planted, legs shaking with adrenaline and worry. You’ve seen Ford in a mess of emotions, but never like this. Not this bad.

The second the door slams open, both of them freeze, but it’s the mulleted guy who speaks first. “So you got yourself a chick now, huh? Thought you were too busy playing goddamn Einstein to bother with things like that.” his angry eyes narrow at you, and you’re not sure if it’s anger or. . . jealousy? Frustration? You don’t have time to decode it.

This guy have absolutely the same features, same nose, same intense, serious brow, but his whole look is just rougher, like he’d been living a life Ford would never survive.

And your blood boils.

“No, fuck that,” you snap, glaring at mullet-man. “You don’t talk about me like that.” then you glance at Ford. “Ford, why the fuck didn’t you tell me about—”

but you get interrupted by Ford’s clone, Ford’s twin, whatever. “Name’s Stan. Stanley Pines. The brother of this genius. Bet he’s never even mentioned me, huh?”

Your stomach churns at the words. Fuck that, no way. This isn’t about you, this is about Ford.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” now you are shivering not only from the winter cold, but also from the absolute chaos of what is happening. You turn to Ford, eyes desperate, desperate to know, to understand, to find answers. “What’s going on? Where have you been? I couldn’t get ahold of you. You just. . . left. And I—” you stop yourself, biting your lip. This isn’t the time to scream at him for all the unanswered questions, for all the shit that’s been left hanging. Not yet.

Ford doesn’t seem to get it. His eyes flick between you and Stan like he’s trying to piece it together, but nothing adds up. "I don’t— what are you doing here? We— we said goodbye," his voice is strained, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“No, Ford. You said goodbye! You fucking disappeared! I don’t even know why, and I— fuck, just explain yourself, okay?” you can’t keep the desperation out of your voice anymore.

Stan is watching with his arms crossed over his chest, and he still doesn't look too pleased, but it's not just anger. Although you don't have time to deal with his point of view. You need answers. You need Ford to talk.

Ford opens his mouth to say something, but then the anger, the frustration, all of it just snaps. "I didn’t want you involved in this. . .  anyone involved. This, this thing with the portal, you wouldn’t understand—"

You don’t even let him finish. “Stop. Just stop, yeah? You don’t get to just disappear like that, Ford. I don’t care about the journal or the goddamn portal anymore. I care about you. Why the hell are you so fucking determined to push everyone away?”

Ford tries to get himself together, though he looks like he’s been caught with every secret he’s ever buried. “This— this doesn’t concern you, alright? Just— just leave, go, this is between me and him.”

Stan scoffs. “Oh, yeah, classy, Sixer. Let’s bring her in just to shove her right back out, huh? Really hitting your all-time high here.”

“Shut up,” his brother snaps.

But Stan’s just as stubborn, glaring right back. “No, I don’t think I will. Not when you’ve dragged some poor girl into this whole shitshow. Real nice, by the way, real nice! Does she even know what you’ve been up to, huh? All the crap you’re into?”

“I said shut up, Stanley. I shouldn’t have called you— God, I regret calling you! You’re just here to make things worse, like always.”

The words land harder than you thought they would. It's not like you didn’t know Ford could be an asshole, but hearing him say that directly to his brother hits a nerve, like a punch to the gut. 

You see Stan’s face change, his mouth drops open, his eyes so wide, like he’s been slapped across the face. He looks like he’s been gutted. It takes his breath away, because he didn't expect to hear this ten years later, and it's obvious that Ford's words hit him too deeply.

However, your own heart drop to your stomach too. Fuck. You didn’t know what was worse — the fact that they were tearing into each other or the fact that Ford could say something like that to his own brother. It’s too much, even for you. You want to scream at Ford, demand that he stop, that this isn’t helping anyone, but you’re paralyzed.

But Stan’s hurt turns into something else and he spits back, “You think I wanted this, Ford?! You think I wanted to be the fuck-up brother?! You’re the one who dragged me into this whole goddamn mess now. You asked me to come! You! So don’t go acting all high and mighty like I’m the one screwing your life up right now!”

And then, in that moment, everything goes to hell.

Before you know it, they’re back at each other’s throats. Ford lunges forward, grabbing the journal, but Stan’s not letting go, the damn thing passed back and forth between them like it’s a live wire, all anger and resentment boiled down to this one book as each of them trying to get a hand on it. 

You rush forward, hands outstretched to push them apart, anything to stop this from going too far, but in the heat of it all, Ford jerks back, elbow flying and you feel it land in your ribs, knocking the wind right out of you and it really fucking hurts. The pain shocks you so hard you gasp.

Ford’s eyes snap to you instantly, widening in horror. “Oh my god— I’m s-so sorry! are you alri—“ he reaches toward you, himself can’t believe he just did that to you, but he barely gets a word out before Stan’s fist slams into his jaw.

This time, Stan hits so hard, putting all his resentment into the punch that Ford stumbles dangerously close to the portal, which is buzzing. You watch in absolute horror as his body goes too close, the fucking thing flickering and humming like a beast about to devour him whole and for a heart-stopping second, Ford looks like he’s going to fall right in.

You’re out of your mind in an instant as you scramble to your feet, adrenaline spiking, crazy fear in your eyes. Without thinking, you reach out, grabbing Ford’s arm, pulling him back, using every ounce of strength you have to pull him back. “Ford, no! Get back!”

Stan’s standing there, frozen for a second, scared himself by how far he had come. His chest rises and falls in heavy breaths and his face is fucking pale as he stares at his brother’s body half in portal, but the guilt is written all over Stan’s face. His bruised hand is still raised, like he wants to hit Ford again, but it’s shaking. Did he. . . did he just. . ? God, he didn’t mean—

“You!” you scream, still tugging Ford away from the edge, but the portal’s pulling like a magnet and you’re fighting with everything you have. “Help me, now!”

Snapped out of his daze, Stanley rushes over, grabbing Ford. You tug harder, your muscles screaming as Ford’s body gives a last push toward the rift, but finally, finally, together, you both heave him back, dragging him away from the portal and out of that damn pull. His feet hit solid ground and you both just collapse.

You’re gasping for breath, hands still fisted in Ford’s coat, both of you holding on like if you let go, he’ll slip right back toward that nightmare.

Ford’s breathing heavily, disoriented, his hands gripping your arms in fear. 

Stan’s still looking at Ford, his face torn up because he doesn’t know whether to say sorry, to yell or to just walk the fuck out to not ruin something else. There’s realisation in his eyes and, for the first time, Stanley is seeing what his anger’s capable of. That punch could’ve been the end of everything.

“Brother. . .” Stan’s voice trembles. “I didn’t mean to—”

You don’t let him finish. “No, you didn’t mean to. None of you meant to,” you snap, but it’s not anger in your tone, it’s damn fear, panic, it’s this deep fucking worry. You turn to Ford. “But this shit needs to stop, okay? Right now. Please.”

The silence between you, Ford and Stan stretches out as if it’s some aftermath of a bomb going off. Ford’s still on the floor, breathing hard and it’s not the near-death experience that’s fucking him up, but the bitter realisation of what could have really happened if that damn portal had taken him in.

“So that’s it, huh? After ten goddamn years, this is how you treat me? Almost shove me into a portal like it’s nothing?”

Stan opens his mouth, but Ford isn’t letting him get a word in, he’s too riled up now, all that anger and pride churning in him, boiling over. “Do you even understand what could’ve happened? What you almost did? You haven’t changed one bit, Stanley. I should’ve known better. Should’ve known you’d just fuck everything up, again. Just like you did back then.” Ford’s voice sounds colder than the winter outside. “Remember the science fair, Stan? You destroyed my experiment because you were too fucking selfish to think about anyone but yourself. I could’ve had everything. You took that from me, my chance at West Coast Tech, my chance at anything and then you have the nerve to make me the villain?”

It hits Stan harder than any punch ever could. Stan doesn’t even blink, his whole body stiff, shoulders slump.

His mouth opens like he wants to fight back, but there’s no fight left in him, the words are stuck in his throat. He doesn’t say shit, trying to process everything at once. But there’s nothing to process. Ford’s right.

“Yeah, I get it,” Stan mutters, holding back tears. “I’m a fucking failure. I know that, Sixer. Always have been. I’m sorry.”

But then he does the one thing you didn’t think he would. He turns around, slow, defeated, too fucking tired to argue and fight anymore.

And just like that, he starts walking away. But deep inside Stanley is crying like a child, expecting Ford to stop him. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t say a word, but he wishes Ford would care, at least once. 

You’re fucking shocked, feeling helpless rage and anger, heart pounding with confusion and disbelief. You thought. . . well, you don’t even know what you thought! That they’d hug it out? Have some big, tearful reunion? Not really! But this mess of accusations and bitterness and old scars is so fucked up. Completely and utterly fucked up.

Ford stands there, all silent, watching Stan’s back as he walks away, not moving an inch. The pride, the stubbornness, the wall he’s built around himself. Oh god, that guy is so fucking smart he doesn’t know how to feel anymore.

You look back at Ford, at his rigid stance, he won’t even move, won’t even try to call Stan back. You can’t believe it and something snaps in you, something fierce and hot because you’re done with all this bullshit.

“You’re not even gonna ask him to stay? Fuck, what is wrong with you both?”

Ford’s face tightens, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even flinch. And it drives you insane, watching him cling to that pride, that goddamn logic of his that’s somehow more important than his own damn family. No fucking way is this ending like this. Not after everything you’ve just seen, not with Ford standing there like a goddamn statue, too proud or too blind or too stupid to do anything but let his brother walk out.

You storm past Ford, ignoring his surprised look as you push past him, practically running after Stan. “wait!” you shout. But Stan doesn’t stop, doesn’t even glance over his shoulder.

“Stan!”

“What?” he snaps at you.

You step closer. “You’re not leaving,” you say, staring him down like it’s a challenge.

He lets out a dry, humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Trust me, sweetheart, it’s better if I do. I don’t belong here.” he jerks his thumb back in Ford’s direction. “Pretty clear I’m not welcome.”

“Bullshit,” you respond, what makes Stanley raise an eyebrow, looking a little surprised at your bluntness. “I don’t care if he’s too proud to say it, but you’re his brother— I mean, you think this is how family’s supposed to be? You think he doesn’t want you here?”

“Look, kid, you don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. Me ‘n’ Ford? We’re a lost cause. Always been. Ain’t no point in tryin' to fix it now.”

“Oh, come on! So you fuck up, he fucks up— you’re both disasters. That doesn’t mean you just give up. I don’t care if it’s been years or what the hell happened between you two. You don’t just fuckin’ quit on family. That’s not how this works.”

Stan’s mouth twitches and he looks like he’s gonna bite back with something snarky, but he doesn’t. He just lets out this tired sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t wanna hurt him more than I already have. I always mess things up. I’ll just make it worse. So what’s the point?”

You take a deep breath, trying to rein in the frustration pounding through you. “The point is, you’re his brother! And if you don’t stay, if you don’t try to work this out, you’ll both regret it. You can’t just leave him to deal with this shit alone.” 

Stanley opens his mouth, ready to throw out another excuse, but you cut him off.

“Look, Stan,” you change the intonation to softer one, “I don’t know the whole story here. I don’t know what went down between you two and I’m sure as hell not saying it doesn’t hurt like hell. But this whole thing you guys are doing? Pushing each other away? It’s not gonna make anything better.“

“Fine, fine. But don’t expect me to be the hero, alright? I ain’t got no magic words to fix this shit.” Stan sighs and looks down like he’s too damn tired for this conversation.

When you and Stan make your way back inside, you see Ford still there with his back to you.

Stanley huffs out a laugh, trying to shake off the tension. “So, Sixer, when’d ya start collectin’ all this junk? don’t tell me you got a whole damn museum in here.”

Suddenly, Ford huffs a dry laugh that sounds a little bitter coming from someone like him. “Wouldn’t expect you to get it. Takes more than a few brain cells to appreciate real science.”

Stan’s smile falters, well, it was pretty rude, but he thinks he deserved it. You and Stan share a look, but before you can say anything, Stan just shrugs it off, letting out a forced chuckle, his voice trying to stay light. “Ha, yeah, same ol’ Ford. Ya always had a way with words, didn’t ya?”

There is only silence in response, but when you come a little closer, you finally take in the sight of Ford holding a goddamn crossbow.

Wait, what?

Your eyes go wide and the first thing that hits you is the cold sweat creeping up your spine.

Stan and you freeze. Confusion mixing with a little fear as you both look at Ford, What the hell is going on with him? Since when does Ford carry a crossbow around like it’s no big deal?

Stan raises an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood with a joke, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. “Hey, bro, you planning on hunting something tonight or just ready to, I dunno, take out some deer in the backyard?”

[grison-in-space]

Stupidest of stupid questions: So humans are trichromatic, right? We basically have RGB eyes. How inefficient would it be to have CMYK eyes? Is it even possible?

You could absolutely do CMY eyes, but the K (being black) is a little more difficult because black isn't a wavelength of light so much as the absence of light. I suppose you could call the K your rods, which are best used in low light and convey things like "shadows" and "movement" particularly effectively. As a human, the most sensitive part of your retina, the part you're using when you directly look at things, is called the fovea. It is PACKED with cones, which are good for color and also tight spatial resolution; rods are found outside along the periphery of both the retinal and visual field. So we're just going to set the K aside now and think about those cones.

Honestly, tetrachromat eyes are technically pretty easy to achieve: all you need is four versions of cone-rhodopsin genes getting translated into different kinds of cone-rhodopsin cells in your retina. Old World primates evolved our trichromat eyes from dichromat mammalian ancestors exactly this way: with a gene duplication in one core cone-rhodopsin gene that allowed one of the copies to accumulate mutations until a sufficiently divergent copy fixed in the population.

So to have CMY eyes, you'd need three cone-rhodopsins with different wavelength sensitivities: one that is most sensitive to cerulean, one most sensitive to maroon, and one most sensitive to yellow. You might or might not have better color resolution than a regular old RGB human, though: color resolution is partly a function of the sensory information hitting your retinas, but it's also partly a function of how much brain space you dedicate to processing that information.

I mentioned my blind cat Arthur the other day--here's a photo:

Arthur is what we call cortically blind. As a kitten, he had an intact pupillary reflex and could probably see light vs dark, but he also had severe nystagmus, so his pupils jittered uncontrollably all the time and he probably didn't get a whole lot of useful visual input. Without the visual experience of seeing things and learning how to organize and process visual information, his brain as he developed went "you know what? fuck this" and stopped dedicating any processing power to whatever visual input he was getting.

Basically, he lost visual acuity because the information he was able to pipe to his brain was fragmented and poor-quality enough that his brain stopped bothering to process it. If I pulled his current eyeballs out and magically hooked up new totally functional ones, he wouldn't be able to do anything with them: his brain has given up sorting out the information.

So the question of whether theoretical CMY humans could distinguish colors better than RGB humans is driven by two things: one, whether having two highly-overlapping cones helps you distinguish between slightly variant light types better than very different cones, and two, whether we're extending the total visual range by moving the cones at the external ends of the range (B and R) farther apart. Overlapping but unique sensory information can be really helpful for localizing and distinguishing similar-but-not-identical inputs--that's one of the reasons owls are good at localizing quiet noises, actually, their ears are wildly asymmetrical and they can computer where a noise is made based on how loudly it can be heard with each ear, especially if the owl is on the move as it listens. Like the Doppler effect, but faster with a lot more processing power on it.

I have no idea which would be more effective, but it's a fun thing to think about!

[that1notetaker]

Okay so in the books, Jack IS in fact. An alien. A whole ass alien. I like to play with that concept with canon modern Jack because he sometimes, in my head, he does weird stuff. Weird, even for a spirit. And he see's sandy or some of the guardians who, also are aliens, and goes 'yeah that normal. that's about right' and the others are like What the Fuck are you guys talking about? I mean Jack basically got reverse lived by the moon, which again, is a spaceship in the books. All I'm saying is that being Jack frost has to be very funny. Jack has SO much time to think. He's such an aloof guy. A funny guy. WRONG. MY GUY IS A NERD AND SPENDS MOST OF THE TIME STUCK IN THE LIBRARY READING ABOUT THE THINGS HE WISHES HE COULD EXPERIENCE FOR HIMSELF!! AND NOW HE CAN INTERACT FOR BRIEF PERIODS OF TIME WITH PEOPLE! Why? Because apparently the power of belief that kids have with Santa is KINDA SIMILAR to the belief that people have when it comes to famous people. It's like people think they're some otherworldy being or something. People think about famous people like they're Some Other Thing, and that's exactly what JACK is. So IT WORKS. Anyway so Jack starts popping around places for fun, it's his thing. Thing is--okay. Okay so. So the way I see it, there has to be a reason why no one can tell Jack is there--I mean, his powers are perfectly visible. He could make some snow/ice/frost fancy show of power or something and boom. But there has to be a reason why that doesn't work. The way I see it, our brains would have to--kind of bypass the magic and hijack (lol) the mental train onto the next, closer train of association thought. Something happens? Oh, must be for X reason! Okay. The brain explains it, and Jack gets shoved into the background. Cool. But in modern times? In modern times, we see something shiny, some fancy show of ice and snow and we think 'OH. SOMEONE IS DOING A TRICK. A SHOW. A SOMETHING. OH MAN THESE 3D GENERATED STUFF IS REALLY COOL GUYS WHERE'S THE MUSIC'. So basically--our modern, 2024 year of our lord chains of thought become something that Jack can...wear a suit into. He can go 'oh, so the people DO believe there's someone doing all this. Not Jack Frost...BUT. But maybe I could invent A NEW Jack Frost. The alter ego. AND IT WORKS. IT actually works. It's a loophole! whoo! In essence: He exists as long as he becomes the 'idea' plausible of being perceived. Anyway yeah that's. yeah, there you go, thoughts. In no particular order. I hope it made sense

Something something AU in which Jack can be seen but ONLY as his street performer persona (named jack frost obv). Somehow he gained a reputation by appearing in the most random locations at the most random times, bypassing security and hijacking public events to put on a cool show. (Sort of like the Step it up movies, remember those?) No one knows how he does it, just that he does. People have theories. He denies none of them.

North: You have believers? Jack: Even better. Jack: I have a sponsor.

[vigilante-3073]

Wilson with an intern f!reader imagine maybe? 🤍

Internships & Relationships

James Wilson x Female Intern Reader

Summary: Wilson takes on a medical intern and the lines of professionalism begin to blur.

TW: Workplace relationships, inappropriate jokes.

James Wilson had a medical intern. He didn't usually take on interns and he had a very good reason for it. That reason was his best friend, Doctor Gregory House. House was a walking HR violation and would likely scar whatever poor intern he came across.

Cuddy was reluctant to bring the offer of an intern to Wilson at first. She knew that he was extraordinarily good at his job, but House already commandeered the majority of Wilson's time.

House was a loose cannon that could not be controlled, but Wilson hoped that it wouldn't ruin this apiring Oncologist's experience. Wilson agreed and Y/N started her 8-week long internship with him the following day. She worked alongside him, sitting in on meetings and looking after his patients. Y/N was an amazing doctor and she got along swimmingly with hospital staff.

Wilson knew that she would be an excellent Oncologist and that her patients would be given the best possible treatment.

Cancer was dehumanizing and Y/N understood that. She didn't beat around the bush, but she also had the ability to relay news in a way that made sure her patients understood. Y/N was extraordinary with a light within her that needed to be protected, which is exactly why he had been hiding her from House.

By the sixth week of her internship, keeping her away from House had become exhausting. The man may have had a limp, but he was certainly tenacious enough to figure out what Wilson was hiding.

...

Wilson stepped into his office with Y/N following closely behind him. They had been seeing patients all day long and were finally going to take a moment to go over some patient files.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" House questioned, spinning around in Wilson's desk chair to face them.

Wilson sighed, "House, this is my Intern, Y/N. Y/N this is Doctor House, he's the head of Diagnostic Medicine," Wilson said.

"Nice to meet you, Doctor House," Y/N said.

House stared at her for a moment, "Wow, you are gorgeous. Up top, Wilson," House said, holding up his hand for a high-five.

Wilson shook his head, "I'm not giving you a high-five, House," He said.

House dropped his hand before sitting forward in the chair, "Tell me, you aspiring do-gooder, did you have to send in head shots to land this gig? Wilson is pretty specific about the students that he chooses to sleep with," House said.

Wilson scoffed, "You are just so out of line right now. I don't even- I am so sorry, Y/N," Wilson said.

"No, it's- It's fine, Doctor Wilson, really," Y/N assured.

"House, get out. Now," Wilson snapped.

"Fine, I'll let you two lovebirds enjoy some time alone," House said, standing up and making his way out of the office.

"I am so incredibly sorry about him. I've been trying to keep him away from you, but he's like a dog with a bone," Wilson huffed, sitting down in his desk chair.

"You don't have to worry, Doctor Wilson. Doctor Cuddy warned me about him before I started working with you," Y/N said.

"I'm so sorry... I am mortified that he would even think that was something okay to say to you," Wilson said.

"I mean, you're a very beautiful young lady and anyone would be lucky to be with you like that. I just- I'm your mentor and it would be wrong of me to take advantage of you," Wilson amended quickly.

"Doctor Wilson, we can just pretend this never happened if that would be easier," Y/N offered.

Wilson sighed, "Yeah, that would be amazing," He said.

"Consider it forgotten then," Y/N said, sitting down on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Wilson watched her as she ordered her patient files on her lap, preparing to go over them after their morning rounds. The interaction with House didn't even seem to phase her and Wilson found himself questioning why.

Cuddy may have made her aware of House's existence before she started her placement, but no amount of preparation could get anyone ready for an interaction with House. He was abrasive, misogynistic and could be incredibly rude whenever it suited him. Y/N heard every remark he made, but they didn't seem to bother her.

Wilson certainly wouldn't be disappointed if Y/N chose to stay at Princeton-Plainsboro after she completed her schooling. He could always use some backup when it came to dealing with House.

...

The final weeks of Y/N's internship flew by and her last day was one that saddened not only the staff, but the patients too. Wilson made sure to get a cake for the occasion and gather everyone in the staff room to celebrate her accomplishment.

Y/N would be great.

There was no doubt about just how amazing she would be. Y/N cared and that would make her an extraordinary Oncologist.

They leaned back on the countertop beside each other as they both ate small pieces of cake. Wilson looked over at her, watching as she took a small bite of her slice.

"Have you given anymore thought to where you want to apply after graduation?" He asked.

"I was waiting until the end of the day to tell you, but I talked to Cuddy a few weeks ago... She actually offered me a job here," Y/N said.

Wilson turned towards her, "Please tell me that you said yes," He said.

"Of course I did," Y/N replied.

"That's amazing! Congratulations, Y/N. You're going to be great... Are you planning on staying in the Oncology department?" Wilson asked.

"I am," Y/N said.

"Really? That's awesome!" Wilson said.

"I'm looking foward to working with you, Doctor Wilson," Y/N said.

"Me too," He replied with a gentle smile.

A heavy feeling had suddenly settled in his stomach, it wasn't until a moment later when he realized what it was.

Wilson was disappointed.

He was interested in Y/N in a way that he shouldn't have been. Wilson was her superior and he would remain in that position for the forseeable future.

Wilson knew that he would never be able to be completely impartial, he always led with his heart and it tended to get him into trouble. Wilson had been walked over by House and Cuddy at times because of their relationship within the workplace. He hoped that if he still harbored these feelings for Y/N that their relationship would follow the same pattern.

If she had chosen to work somewhere else, he may have been able to cope with it, but at Princeton-Plainsboro would the limited distance overwhelm him? Or could this finally be the time he gets it right?

Before he could stop himself, he had opened his mouth and the words came tumbling out.

"Would you like to go for dinner tonight? With me?" Wilson asked.

A stunned look crossed her face and his heart began to pound in his chest. She was his student and he just asked her on a date.

"Oh, I-I'm so sorry. That was completely inappropriate and I am just so stupid for putting you on the spot," He began.

"Wilson," She said softly, he quickly closed his mouth despite wanting to explain himself further and take back his question.

"Are you asking me on a date?" Y/N questioned.

"I- Yes, I was, but you don't have to respond and I promise that I'll never bring it up again," He assured.

"I'd love to go out with you, Wilson," Y/N said.

"Really?" He asked.

She smiled, "You're a really nice guy and if I'm being honest, I've had a bit of a crush on you since I started," Y/N admitted.

Wilson huffed a laugh, "This is the best day of my life," He said.

"You can pick the place, just let me know how fancy I need to dress," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I can do that," Wilson nodded.

The door to the staff room opened, "Y/N, come here, honey. We got you a little something," One of the nurses called.

Y/N nodded, "I'll be right there," She replied, setting her plate down on the counter.

"You can feel free to take off after this," Wilson said.

"Are you sure?" Y/N questioned.

"Of course, it's your last day. Just text me your address and I'll come pick you up after I'm done here," Wilson said.

"Okay, I'll see you tonight," She smiled.

Wilson watched her walk out of the break room with a lovesick smile on his face. Little did he know that in a few short years she would become the fourth, and final, Mrs. Wilson.

[avielex]

Ashes

[POV: Jordan / Professor Budd, twelve years after Protego Diabolica.]

Part 1 of 3

I didn't think I'd have it happen to me.

Then again, there were many things I didn't think I'd have, about ten years ago.

Getting to teach an elective class was one of them. Getting a flat chest was another. Getting to have both things in the same lifetime and getting to enjoy my new everyday, though? Yes, each day is always going to be yet another test to how good these actually are (as I remember from experience, kids get bored fast), but I strive to say yes each time. Always.

Well, for an elective, kids sure get enthusiastic in my classroom, so I'd say it's been a yes from the soul for most of those days.

But I'm worried of having to say no.

"Look up here, everyone."

"In front of you will be a visual of which colour of Muggle fire will be for its heat level, from coolest to hottest. If at any point you see fire being produced by a Muggle devices and you see the hottest colour, please! Please keep away for the sake of your souls. And your pretty faces."

I heard a couple chuckles.

I'm not sure I remember the pipeline of thought I had prior to this lesson. It was going to be simple enough: The science of heat. The principles and interactions of that heat with other things. If wizards will setting fire to a lot of things for whatever reason, then I better give them a reason to consider the things fire can really do and be.

Blazing hot. Beautiful. But dangerous.

Much like the eyes of Mr. Gillebrand here, a fifth-year Slytherin — unwavering from every motion I made in front of the class. He's always been a pretty focused guy, perhaps occasionally tunnel-visioning into what he sees right, but his friends behind him there I could trust to give him a much-needed bonk here and there too.

Mr. Gillebrand — oh, it doesn't matter here, we're bloody friends — Trey's observant. Always been, maybe too much so. If anything, that day, he must've seen some sort of reason to watch me extra closely during that demonstration. And I hate to say it, but he might've had the right idea.

No. Not that.

He might've already had an idea.

"As we'd discussed in the lecture last time, we'd have to invert our perspectives of these colours when we look at natural or Muggle fire," I continued, in spite of Trey's gaze digging into my face. "What colour's our coldest again?"

A deep scarlet flame hovers at the tip of my wand. The class choruses "Red".

"Getting hotter."

An orange ember, with the chill colours of a sunset. Some people called it yellow, some orange. For some of the kids I noticed to have stayed silent, this would probably be one unfortunate way to find out you're colourblind.

"Hotter still."

A "Yellow" as golden as the softboiled yolks at the Great Hall's breakfast table.

"And hotter?"

As "White" as the wisps that trail off the tattered ends of our castle ghosts' long clothes.

"Right, at the center here," I said, pointing at the white center of the flame bursting from my wand. I flick it off with a wave, a little column of smoke ghosting from the tip of my wand as I continued to speak.

"Now, it's hard to find this hottest colour of fire in nature." I hold my wand out again. "I'd discussed before that fire needs fuel and oxygen to burn. That fuel can vary from wood to clothes to... really, a lot of things, including gas. Muggles have learnt to contain some of these gases as fuel for cooking, and the flame it produces at complete combustion is..."

I flicked my wand—

And that was where I had it happen to me.

[OC CREDITS, behind Trey: Azi (left) by @praxieserver , Leshi/Snakey (right) by @cindyvonotakuuwu ]

[sporadicmoontimemachine]

Buddie realization earlier than expected? (Theory: looong)

Ok so what led me on this train of thought was bc I’ve been thinking about is the beginning of season 7 when Eddie is talking with Buck about Chris being a player. Eddie says “I don’t know where he gets it from, I married the first girl that I dated”. Fast forward to season 8 and bummy breakup and Turkish delight telling Buck that he’s his first and won’t be his last blah blah. Now let’s go to how Buck was ofc as usual ready to move in with Travel Agent and be serious. We’ve seen Buck from season 4 onward pushing to settle down and it was assumed that was bc of the Abby closure at the end of season 3 BUT…what if it’s not? What if it’s really a nod to Bucks need to be close to Eddie and in this sense I mean more mentally and theoretically.

Although Buck has seen Eddies relationships fall apart multiple times he has always tried to be like Eddie and establish “security” in a partner and eventually a family- something that he found in Eddie and Chris- but also really hasn’t bc Eddie has continually given up that spot that Buck unofficially holds as part of the Diaz family for years. However throughout the time Buck has known Eddie , the spot as Eddies best friend has been secured by him…until Trumpet. Once he was introduced Buck panicked(the first spot in Eddies life was already taken by Marisol and now there was competition for the other) so he did what he could to right the situation-remove Tourniquet from Eddies life himself. Buck found a willing substitute for Eddie while also ensuring that he would be Eddies secured first(bestie slash “platonic” life partner).

Back to the Eddie marrying his first and Torpedo saying that they can’t last BECAUSE he’s his first. I think at some point this is going to be brought up or referenced to, especially with the stills showing a depressed Buck. I think he has mentally seen Trombone being his first as something that relates to the validity of his relationship with Eddie. With him trying to emulate and fill the gap that not holding that “true” top spot in Eddies life and provide reason for why he should be okay being only Eddies bestfriend. Buck will at some point think well you married your first and overall it worked out great right(despite the divorce and her dying…)? You have your kid you got to experience the love etc. This is why despite multiple little(and not so little) references to Triste not being the one for him( the Evan Thing, “You wanted MY attention”, he’s good for you - how do you know that?, I gave you basketball tickets for our anniversary when you don’t like basketball, Do you love him?…, I led on the woman that changed your outlook on relationships and completely broke her heart), he still proceeds to ask Tommy to move in with him.

So then comes the question Why Buck? Why are you so heartbroken over this when you know deep down Trashcan was right? Because the whole thing was a product of his fear that he wont be important in eddies life forever. And from the articles Eddie is supposed to have a unique reaction to the breakup which I think is he is going to be completely care free about it in a “What can you do way”. This again will bring up Why do you care this much? Everyone else is moving on, you weren’t even this bad with Abby. I can totally see Buck having a meltdown about it. Another unique thing that hasn’t really happened before- Eddie is relatively free of emotional and mental weight atm while Buck is the complete opposite. Either both have been down bad or Buck was the free one and Eddie needed him. If Eddie reacts how I think in addition to everything else, this will be when Buck realizes what he truly wants from Eddie. Buck has always been there for him when the roles were reversed so Eddie not making it a priority will probably cause a I’m always there for him? Why is that and why am I so angry that he’s not as devastated as I am that our-I mean- me and Trampoline’s relationship didn’t work. This is all going to lead to Buck ending this episode or next episode with the realization that he has real romantic feelings for Eddie. BUTT I might just be way off and Eddie gets really protective and threatens Turnips life for not seeing how great Buck is and then asks Buck to marry him instead🙂.

Also this is probably hard to follow but it makes more sense in my head promise

[stabby-pal]

I’ve gotten so tired of the “Shadow the hedgehog is 50 years old 🤪” jokes because people use it as an excuse to draw porn of him, so I’m swinging violently in the opposite direction and saying there’s more evidence pointing to him being the youngest member of the cast then there is evidence that he’s an adult.

1: to get this out of the way, he was in STASIS for 50 years, so he did not age physically or mentally in that time.

2: in his Sonic Generations dlc we see that when shadow met Maria they both appear to be the same age, this implies that when shadow was “born” he had both his current mental age and his “teenager” type body.

3: Maria does not (at least visually) age between her first meeting with Shadow and when she dies on the Arc.

So with this information in mind Shadows actual age is based solely on how many years he had with Maria, which all things considered could be less than 1. There is a real tangible chance that the reason that he’s so unstable in SA2 isn’t just because he’s still mourning the loss of his best friend/sister but because she’s all he ever knew, he know her since the day he was born fully conscious, then she’s just gone. On top of that his entire world changed, if I lived in an environment with a complete lack of ambient noise and basically nothing but sterile empty halls and was suddenly on a planet with constant noise and bugs and weird smells I’d consider destroying everything, and that’s without the factor of still being in mourning.

Shadow may have the physique and mental fortitude of a 15-16 year old but clearly would not have any experience up to that point. This also explains why in the Shadow the Hedgehog game he’s so easily manipulated and influenced after losing his memory, he’s been set back to square one, he’s basically an infant.

Now this may have spawned as a “fuck you” to people sexualizing a fictional child but this explains so many quirks about him that I’m surprised that I haven’t seen more people talk about this or play into it in fan works, Shadow is basically a toddler in the body of a 9th grader given the power of a god, sure he’s smart enough to make decisions for himself but it wouldn’t surprise me if there’s huge gaps in his knowledge still even after living on earth for as long as he has.

In conclusion, let Shadow be a kid and stop making excuses to be creepy about him.

[rory-multifandom-mess]

i see you've gotten yourself into the rabbit hole that is the transformers franchise! So here's a simple question:

Out of all the iterations you've seen, who's your favorite Autobot and favorite Decepticon?

Oh my GOODDD. Give me a second to even remember all the iterations I’ve seen one second

Ok so MTMTE/LL, Prime, Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Acadamy, Animated, and Armada. I’ll start with Animated because that was the first one I was introduced to.

~~~~

Tranformers: Animated - Favorite Autobot has definitely got to be Bumblebee, but Jazz is a close second. I see a lot of myself in that lil yellow guy— constantly being picked on for his height, self esteem issues that come off as over confidence, constantly wanting to prove himself— yeah that’s just me but in robot font. And much worse. Jazz being a close second is entirely because he was just really cool.

Now my favorite Decepticon from Animated is 1,000% Blitzwing. I fucking LOVED his german accent and his personality switch gimmick. I hope it’s not disrespectful to call it a gimmick, but like. If you watch the show it really is just a gimmick. You got the cold and calm one, usually the main face, the brute with all the anger in the world, and then the Batshit Crazy guy. He’s so incredibly silly. I love him.

(The rest under the cut, this is gonna get long)

~~~~

Tranformers: Prime - Favorite Autobot is EAAASILYY Smokescreen. How could you NOT like him??? His character arc is one of, if not THE, best in the whole series. He first joins the Autobots acting like a new cadet, arrogant and sloppy, but raring to fight and throw himself headfirst into battle. He was kind of rude to the others, but through experience and making mistakes, he begins to mature and apologizes when needed. He beats himself up when he makes mistakes, no matter how small (me too).

But then, at the end of season 2 and beginning of season 3 I think, he goes through something traumatic. Optimus, nearly dead, presents the matrix to him, saying that it was time for a new prime, and that prime was to be him. And like. You expect Smokescreen to take it. BUT HE DOESN’T. Instead he goes and brings the Forge of Solus Prime to Optimus and REVIVES HIM.

Smokescreen refuses the Matrix of Leadership, not because he was in denial about Optimus dying, but because he recognized that he wasn’t ready. He showed humility, something he hadn’t shown since he arrived, and he showed compassion. Like. Just. LOOK AT THIS CLIP FROM THE MOVIE.

Anyway. Smokescreen makes me ill. Moving on

My favorite Decepticon from Prime is Shockwave. For no good reason other than god he’s hot. His voice…. his walk….. he could eviscerate me and I’d thank him.

~~~~

MTMTE/LL - Now I would call this IDW but I don’t want to be misleading since I haven’t exactly read every single IDW comic in existence, so I’ll just stick to the story I read a lot. ANYWAY. Favorite autobot is Rung, obviously. Who do you think I am. Lovable psychiatrist who gets forgotten about a lot despite being these bots’ psychiatrist for like 6 centuries (RED ALERT). Anyway. And he has a ✨✨Dark Secret✨✨. Which is. The fact he is LITERALLY GOD. But it’s ok because he didn’t know it either. aND THEN HE DIES AND HIS FINAL WISH IS DON’T FORGET ME AND GUESS WHAT EVERYONE D- [gets shot]

Rung makes me ill.

First Aid is a close second. He also makes me ill. Lengthwise…… (<- obscure reference)

Favorite Decepticon… Is really hard to decide because there are so many good options in MTMTE/LL. I’ll pick two for this one, since they’re part of opposing groups within the Decepticons anyway. Those two are Fulcrum and Kaon.

Fulcrum is part of the Scavengers, along with Krok, Crankcase, Spinister, Misfire, and Flywheels. Though he like instantly dies. Anyway. I think I just really like his design and personality, since there really isn’t any arc with this guy. He’s just silly.

And then there’s Kaon, who is part of the D.J.D. (Decepticon Justice Division. To those who don’t know them, they’re a group of Decepticons lead by Tarn who go around the galaxy killing Decepticons who went rogue, awol, or just strayed up betrayed the Decepticon clause. And they don’t just. Bam dead, they torture their victims, killing them slowly and brutally.) He turns into an electric chair and I mostly like him because of his design and he seems like the silliest of the D.J.D. having that attachment with The Pet n’ all. No character arc to ramble about. I just like him.

~~~~

Transformers: Rescue Bots Academy - Favorite Autobot is Easy Peasy! That would be Hot Shot for mostly the same reasons as Animated Bee and Prime Smokescreen. I see A lot of myself in him, and his character arc is absolutely amazing. Basically the same as Smokescreen’s, except he doesn’t witness someone almost die LMAO

There aren't any Decepticons in RBA, but I will say my favorite of the teacher was Blades, which leads me to my next iteration!

~~~~

Transformers: Rescue Bots - Keep in mind, I'm still in the middle of watching this one, so I'm only up to season 2 episode... 4 or 5, I can't remember. Anyway. Favorite Autobot is Blades, as previously mentioned. He's just so silly, and I adore the fact he's such a huge Bumblebee fan. I love the idea of him, a helicopter, being scared of heights. Me too buddy, me too.

Again RB does not have any decepticons as far as I'm aware, and I hardly remember any of the villains.

~~~~

And lastly, Transformers: Armada - Much like RBA, my favorite Autobot in this whole 4 season long series was Hot Shot. I don't remember his exact character arc since it's been a year since I started watching the show, but I do remember I liked it a lot. He was silly and goofy and, much like Smokescreen, matured over time. Oh, and also GODDAMNIT HIS VOICE. It's so soft and adorable and everything but when he yells oh BOY does he YELL. That shit gets GRAVELLY and HOARSE. Oh and also he's voiced by Brent fuckign Miller, the same dude who voices Zane in Ninjago, so... You can say I'm biased because Zane is my favorite ninja.

And as for favorite Decepticon, though he doesn't end up actually being a Decepticon but he is still an antagonist so I'm counting it anyway, is Sideways. And it's entirely because of his voice because I don't remember what he was like before season 4. IT'S SO FUCKING HOT PLEASE HEAR ME OUT ON THIS.

Also, he's voiced by the same guy who voices Sensei Wu also in Ninjago. Take that as you will.

~~~~

I LOVE RAMBLING!!! WOOOO. Anyway uuh. Here's a long answer to a simple question. Enjoy.

[snowmoonwrites]

Virus: Chibify! Chapter1

Tokyo Debunker fic. General audience, Full Fluffy crack. Let's put the ghouls into onesies! First victim? Lyca!

A new Curse have been going rampant in the Academy. No one knew how it started, who was the perpetrator, or what was the reason for it all. What everyone knew is that it left people as toddlers for 24 hours. Not more, not less. Given that it was not malicious in nature, at least it didn’t seem to be so, the Academy said it is an anomaly virus that will have to run its course.

That is what you all have been told, at least. You thought that the ghouls, just like usual, will be immune to this as well. At least, that was what you thought. Until you stepped into Obscuary’s dorm to get a signature from Lyca on one of the forms. When asked, Rui told you Lyca hadn’t left his room that day left, and feel free to barge in. While uncomfortable with the idea, after several minutes of futile knocking you opened the door. And what welcomed you was a sight you weren’t ready for. Instead of the grown-up Lyca, in the bed was a small child, curled up into a ball.

As you went closer, the boy’s eyes snapped open, turning to face you. A growl left his throat, but it immediately died out when he saw you. He probably retained at least some part of his memories if he recognized you. Or maybe your scent was familiar. Either way, he tilted his head to the side, looking positively like a puppy. Oh, my! That is exactly what he was after all! OH NO! You shook yourself, this is not the time for this! You lifted him up, bundling him into too-big clothes, and ran out. 

“Rui!” When his head appeared at the other end of the stairs you showed him Lyca in your arms. “I don’t think you all are immune to the virus.”

“Clearly not,” he replied letting you pass by. “I don’t think we have anything that would fit him.”

Oh, yeah, you can’t make Lyca go through the day butt naked. Clearly, that would not be wise. But you also couldn’t let him bi in his oversized clothes either. You knew from experience that asking the Academy will do you no good.

“I’ll manage it somehow. I’ll bring him back when he is back to a reasonable age.” You nodded to Rui while walking out of the dorm. While walking through the garden you opened your phone and called the one person you knew will be able to get you onesies in less than an hour. 

“Yes”

“Umm… Not to sound strange… But would you be able to get me onesies for children around…” You looked at Lyca in your arms. “How old are you now?” When the answer was a confused face you let it go. “Two? Maybe three years old of age?”

“The virus?”

“The virus. It turns out you ghouls are not at all immune to it either.” Maybe your voice showed a bit too much of glee as you could hear a long-suffering sigh on the other end of the line.

“How many do you need?”

“Around 21?” 

“Got it. Come pick it up in an hour.”

The phone call ended without any more words exchanged. It was typical, you just shrugged and made your way towards Frostheim. You looked down at Lyca, bouncing him a bit in your arms.

“How about we go see Subaru-kun after we get you some new clothes?”

Lyca’s ears perked up, it seemed like he wasn’t fully able to control his transformation. Whether it was an age thing or the Cursevirus, you didn’t know. He looked up at you, very excited as his tail wagged in a furious rhythm. You would have bet your entire life that Lyca knew who you were talking about.

When you stepped into Frostheim you were greeted by several students tending to small toddlers. They sent you sympathetic looks. At least theirs aren’t ghouls. You are still afraid what will happen with some of the others when they get turned into toddlers. Will Ed become a human again? The virus was too confusing for you, and even Yuri said he knows next to nothing about it. Which clearly hurt his pride to admit.

Well, given the situation, you decided to focus on the task at hand. You walked up to Jin’s room and knocked 5 times as usual. When your phone vibrated, you walked right in, knowing you got permission to enter. Or at least you thought that was what it meant! But clearly not! Jin was half naked, pulling up his shirt. You squeaked and put a hand before the small Lyca’s eyes.

“You should read the message.” Jin drawled, not in a hurry to hide his naked torso. And you felt no shame at looking. Well, one of your arms was holding Lyca, the other covering his eyes. You had no free hand. What were you supposed to do? Turn around? Maybe? Walk out? Possibly. But you didn’t care at all. 

“Where are the onesies?” You looked over the room, looking for a big pile of children’s clothing. You spotted a box next to the bed, nodded towards it. “Is that it?” 

Jin grunted in an affirmative. Finally finishing buttoning up his shirt. “I did not choose them. I take no criticism for them.”

“Got it.” You set down Lyca on the bed and opened up the box, lifting out the nicely folded onesies. They were all animal themed… Hmmm… You looked through them. Some of them, you instantly knew which ghoul should wear when they get infected. Some, you were hesitant about. You fished out the wolf one and helped Lyca into it. A cheesy choice. But he looked so cute! 

Your phone’s folder will be full of cute ghouls! You snapped a quick photo before helping Lyca down from the bed.

“Let’s go surprise Subaru-kun, hmm?” You reached out, and Lyca grabbed onto your hand, pulling you towards the door.

“Go! Let’ go! Let’s go to Suba-kun!”

“I’ll pick up the clothes on my way home.” You called out to Jin as you let Lyca pull you towards the door. He stepped in front of you two, eliciting a growl from Lyca’s throat. 

“I’ll make one of the brats bring it to your dorm. The child might not turn back till much later.” He patted your head then stole a kiss onto your forehead before moving out of the way and letting the kiddified Lyca pull you towards Hotarubi. Clearly following his nose rather than basing anything on his knowledge. Thankfully the onesies came with protective shoes, so you won’t have to carry all the boys around all day.

During your walk you wrote to Subaru to let him know that you are bringing a virus affected Lyca. He wrote back about his willingness to host you both till Lyca got better. You thanked him, telling him you two are on your way. 

When you arrived at the edge of the dorm, where sunny weather turned into everlasting rain, Subaru stood there waiting for you with a spare umbrella. Lyca made uppie hands towards him. Subaru instantly took him into his hands.

“Ah, let me hold the umbrella so you won’t get wet.” You took the umbrella and put it over them. While you got a little wet, at least the small Lyca got through the rain without a speck of raindrop. All the while he was talking off Subaru’s ear about all the things with the enthusiasm only small children have.

As you walked into the room, Haku threw a towel on your shoulder, scolding you for not taking care of yourself better. You let him and Zenji fuss over you, keeping an eye on Lyca, who seemed to be an energetic child, who liked to talk off Subaru’s ear. He totally had favourite persons. He didn’t even spare a glance at Haku, but pulled you closer so you all could listen to his tales about chasing squirrels in the forest. Whether these were such fond memories that they stayed with him, or if they got clearer due to the virus, you didn’t know. It was certainly cute.

What made your day perhaps was the way Haku got a carton box out of nowhere, and put the small Lyca into it, who immediately claimed it as his new den. And if Haku tried to go even an inch closer that Lyca deemed safe, his ears would perk up, a growl leaving him. But then he would look at Subaru, waiting to be chastised and he would take out his best puppy eyes to look pitiful.

Your phone’s gallery held new pictures, a folder dedicated to smol ghouls now. You were looking forward to gathering more.

ALSO Guys. I made a Kofi. So feel free to send me your love over there too <3

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Curtis Everett

Summary: Curtis decides to take the next step and ask if you're willing to meet offline.

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Meeting someone from online, Mentions of past bad experiences. Please let me know if I missed any.

Previous

Series Masterlist

"So, what all has been going on with your computer? Did you bring it with you?" Curtis tries to keep his tone calm. He's been eager to meet you in person for months but has worked hard to make sure you feel safe to do so and that means not pushing you into it. He tries to keep his excited fidgeting to a minimum but he's worried it just makes him look even more suspicious. He's so used to keeping his features schooled into a scowl, but that's the last thing he wants to do to you.

"Basically it'll go for a while but then start freezing, stuttering and I have to force it to shut down before I can do anything else," you answer while sipping your coffee. You can't believe his eyes are as blue as the photo he sent. "I tried to see if it was because I was running some heavy duty games and maybe I was using too much RAM. I cleaned up so many programs, uninstalled a bunch of games I don't play anymore, but it just keeps happening."

Curtis rubs his beard as he thinks. "It might be a hardware issue. It's not my strong suit, but I can still take a look. At the very least I can ask my buddy, Mace, for help. He's a whiz with the hardware and could probably get you a good deal if any upgrades are needed."

"Oh yeah, you've talked about him before," you reassure yourself. Having him mention another stranger worried you but Mace has been brought up several times before, especially when Curtis mentioned getting upgraded tech.

"You definitely don't have to meet him," Curtis affirms. "He can be a real grump. And coming from me, that's saying something." He gives a light chuckle as he sips his coffee.

"Snow, I work at a hospital," you counter. "Ain't no kind of grump I haven't had to deal with before." You give Curtis a look that says 'I'm stronger than you'.

Curtis smiles fully, "absolutely fair, Heart." He struggles a little bit to not turn shy. That look, that strength, that self-assured smile has him weak in the knees. "Still," he coughs, trying to regain control of himself. "Still, uh, when...did you bring the computer with you? Would this be an okay time to take a look at it?"

"Friend of mine at the library is keeping an eye on it for me." Best to let him know you've got allies nearby. He hasn't really given anything to make you worry about, but his reactions to your safety protocols could be telling. Of course, if you were expecting him to look scared or upset at this news, Curtis happily defied those expectations as his eyes lit up.

"Oh, that's really smart! We can borrow one of their laptops to run some tests. That way my laptop's settings won't mess with your computer."

You smile, genuinely, for the first time all day. Curtis is very different and you couldn't be happier about it.

"Don't you need your diagnostic software?"

"If it's called for, sure. The basic versions are free to download and they'll help me pick up if it's actually a software issue. Plus, the libraries regularly wipe downloads after use, right?"

"Okay, everything's plugged in so let's get this running and see what happens."

After looking over the hardware Curtis had found no obvious reasons for the failure so you had gone to your friend and loaned out one of the laptops. Curtis's computer bag had an impressive collection of tools, wires and connectors. You always appreciate when a person is prepared.

He works in relative silence and it gives you the chance to really look at him. He's definitely handsome, as Cassandra pointed out when she loaned you laptop. You weren't normally one for lip piercings but it seemed to work well on him, even though it was partially hidden by his beard.

The quiet between you two isn't so uncomfortable. It's how you spent a lot of time when you started gaming together. Talking over comms almost always resulted in a bunch of idiots either hitting on you, calling you a 'fake gamer,' lobbing insults at you, or all three at the same time. Snowpiercer was one of the few gamers who didn't care that you were a girl gamer. For him it was about how well you worked together. Given that the two of you could get high scores without having to talk over comms, it was no wonder the two of you started playing together more and more.

Even after you'd started voice chatting while playing, there was always a level of respect. Something you hadn't gotten from Chase.

Curtis gets out of the chair and gets a closer look at each of the fans, stopping at the one closest to the heat sink. "There it is," he intones. "This fan is dying. It's easy to miss because, by the time you know something's wrong, the whole computer's shut down and all the fans are stopped."

"Well, at least it's an easy fix," you comment. "Thanks for taking a look at it."

"Not a problem at all," he assures. "I'm happy to help."

You smile, "are you always this nice?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Definitely not. I'm not an ass, but I'm definitely not this nice to everyone."

"I'm honored."

He chuckles at that. "Like I said, I'm happy to help you out. You're the best teammate I've ever had and it just isn't as fun paying without you."

"I appreciate that, Curtis. So, what do I owe you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't do that to me, Snow. You know how I feel about owing people." It was a wound from Chase that had yet to heal. His use of favors as manipulation made you wary of anyone who said you don't owe anything.

Curtis sighs and nods. "Tell you what, there are some pastries at that coffee shop we were at that I avoided because I didn't want you to see me covered in crumbs. Wouldn't make for a good first impression." You smile at the thought. "Just get me a couple of those while I shut everything down here and return the laptop?"

"Deal." You stand to get moving but turn to him before you leave, "and thank you, again. Not just for the computer fix, but for...for respecting the boundaries."

He looks at you with those gorgeous blue eyes, "not a problem."

Next

Series Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"Such a shame and waste that would be, a rope around this lovely neck. Only thing I want to see around it is my fingers or lips... and those neck ruffs you always insisted on wearing, as if you were a Queen. Fashion ain't my thing, but they were a good way to hide marks, at least..."

Eskel's murmured against Sabrina's throat, kissing and nibbling along it, feeling the crimson haired Sorceress growing welcomely wetter against his touch at her womanhood, the desire growing in both of them. To say nothing of the distraction making her drop a dish while she magically prepared their meal. He smirked against her flesh, hands still appreciating her perfect breasts and womanhood as he spooned against the Sorceress, entirely hard and aroused. Finding it more difficult to hold himself back with her, but working at keeping his head clear for the moment... especially at her kiss, and he mentioning of Kaer Morhen. Making her intent rather clear, her desires for the place. Likely to try and put an Aretuza woman's touch on the masculine built and maintained keep, as it had been with Keira, Triss, Yennefer and even Carla Demetia Crest before the pogrom. A Lodge woman's touch as well, in Sabrina's case. His viper eyes returned to her, smirk on his marred visage deepening, shaking his head. Even now, in an apparently relaxed and enticing setting, she was set upon her scheming for one thing or another that suited her. Even so, leaning in, the Witcher pressed another kiss back to her lips, slowly and intimately, tasting her lovely red lips, breathing her in, savoring her. A couple of his fingers teasing her slowly slipped inside her womanhood, distracting her further with the searing desire they shared, When his lips drew back, his smirk deepened, and his deep, amused and aroused voice returned to her calmly, reasoning with her.

"Quite safe and secluded. Ain't many left in the world even know where it is... and even if they do, fewer know how to get up there. As I recall... you already know how to get there. Have been. Course I ain't about to just let you saunter into my home again without good reason or incentive. Might not be anyone else left up there, but I am the school's Grandmaster, now. The entire valley is my property. If I brought you there, how long would it remain safe and secluded? Tranquil. Your ambitions might not allow it, could draw undo attention of your enemies. Or you will experiment, like Alzur and his ilk. Likely it is our libraries and laboratories you seek. Our secrets. Wouldn't be the first of your kind to... and destiny did not have me inherit the school, of all Witchers, to give it away to mage interests. Especially not after it was them who destroyed us in the first place."

@fallesto

“Been through the ringer Eksel, more than you even know. Been through hell and back, literally, not wishing to test my chances and fate, besides the kingdoms have fallen, mostly, if not now then soon, there is nothing left here, the age of kings here have come to an end, witches and witchers, working together to make it happebn, but the grand idea we had for what we wished to build, nothing more than a dream and a dream cannot come true no matter with how much magic we use, annoying truly, but I am not lingering around for a rope, twelve men and a tree to end my life.”

He only had to look around for himself to see it for himself, this was magic, and her power, flowing through every single thing, it was powerful, it was impressive, that was true and it was dangerous, but in the end, it was a tent and nothing more than that. A tent within the corner of the kingdom, back in the forests, living up to her title and her name, as she was back home, but it did not sit well with her, at all. It was time to leave and move on, she had a great many enemies, and they would come for her, but at the same time, she wished to see what the future was, what would wait for her.

She knew of his brothers, the one that was called Lambert and how he had found Keira Metz a fellow sister of her own, one she could get along with for there shared interest in there work and hunger for knowledge and power to better there places within the world, and Keira Metz had taken this witcher and now, they move through the land with one another, where they had found themselves now, she didn’t know and if she wished to know, she would not even bother, it changed nothing for her at all, it made no difference as well, but it was something Eskel had said to her many times.

WITCHERS AND WITCHES, ARE DRAWN TO ONE ANOTHER.

Even with all the magic and all the knowledge she had, it was not something that she would be able to figure out, this situation being given as an example, here she was, in the arms of the witcher, who she had taken everything from and he had done the same to her, they fight, they bicker, they play there games, they plot and they plan behind each others backs, people and villages, life nothing more than pawns and little more than that, as she hummed then, such thoughts.

Hard to have them right here and now, as she laid there, back against him for the moment, as she was looking ahead, moving the plates, pots and pans with her finger, as an egg rolls and cracks onto the floor, as he kissed along her neck, held her tighter than before, would touch her skin, feel her breasts anew, with such passion and slide his hand down and touch her again, slick, wet and wanting for more, as a pan drops and clatters to the ground as she would chuckle for the moment at his bold and daring antics, such a thing, would be a curse from her to anyone who got in her way and annoyed her with her work.

“Kaer Morhen …” As her eyes closed as she turned her head back a little bit and would kiss at his cheek. “Is it safe, there will be none there to bother me, I could do a great many things in a place like that.” A fortress, like that, cut off, away, all those rooms, the space, the courtyards, everything she could do a great deal of her work, away from the eyes of the world, far away from anyone that was looking for her, as the only other choice she had, was leaving these lands and taking beyond the seas, to escape the kingdom, the empire, all of it and find somewhere else, but the mere mention of Kaer Morhen had her interest, him being there, an added bonus.