#otherwise he might not be arguing like this with a child

[whatudottu]

Given how the alters of the Blitzwing system are all named after adjectives or nouns that describe their personality (if a bit oversimplified), some of the potential names I’ve come up with for Blitzwing’s original/forged personality (based off the timid, sensitive, and anxious interpretation) are:

Fraidy

Fidget

Bashful

Coward 

Private (what I’ve personally been leaning towards as it not only describes his personality and how the system prefers to keep him hidden from the world for his own safety, but it's also the lowest military rank, making it a neat little three-way pun)

Ough I really like Private- I just imagine that pre-BETC Blitz was called Private (or a Cybertronian specific translation that meant a little more than just a human military rank) by older or more experienced warframes that were already type-caste (a less fun pun) into being soldiers of a kind. Private may have a complicated relationship with the name, but it’s a name (even if only a nickname or as a term of endearment for a youngling) that was given to him not by the elite but by HIS community, by warframes.

I can just imagine in Blitzwing’s headspace, Astrotrain and Octane (neither particularly used to referring to someone in military terms) speaking Private’s name with such a fondness that even if perhaps neither of them fully have the context, Private just gets to feel comforted by having that connection.

[euniexenoblade]

just found out that transmascpetewentz might be a fucking minor yall. like, not even in high school yet age.

edit: more or less confirmed through a friend straight from him. dude's 14 in high school. it does make his edginess and gross actions make a lot more sense, but also doesn't excuse some of the vile things he's said. regardless, i'd recommend just getting away. don't argue with him, don't send him messages, hate or otherwise, etc etc. he's a child. act accordingly. not the first shitty kid youve ever met.

[hells-wasabii]

here’s a thing you could try doing (if you want to) the Hazbin hotel gang with seraphim child reader who somehow appeared in hell after the ep 8 battle.

the gang now has to look and protect this child since others could use them for their own means with the power the kid has and for some reason they can’t go to heaven… almost like they have a purpose here in hell

A/N: This is probably going to get a part 2, I'm a little invested in where this could go! It's probably gonna get turned into a little series with a plot.

With a child seraphim i really don't see one knowing what hell even is yet. Sure, they would tell them about it, but definitely wouldn't know what it is. Or alcohol, or curse words or anything vulgar really. I hope you enjoy!

Character: General

Type: Fic (Nonromantic, Plot-centric,Hotel staff/residents with seraphim child!reader, General)

It was an honest mistake. You really hadn't meant to, but Emily and Sera were starting to argue again, something that had been happening often since that nice Charlie girl you had met at the zoo came and gone. So you had snuck away. You hated when they argued, they were your family. Family shouldn't fight, ever, you had decided early on.

Curious, you continue on towards the portal. You investigated, peering through to see a strange place bathed in red, you saw a broken building, something that reminded you of something one your brothers had shown you from the human world. War, you thought it was called. Something horrible that humans thought up to hurt each other.

You hated when people were hurt. You wanted to get closer and help anyone who might be hurt, even if your powers hadn't fully come in yet.

Then an idea came to your mind! You could ask your brothers to help! They would know exactly what to do! With this in mind, you attempted to return back through the portal, only to be pushed back by some invisible force.

Wait... What? Why wouldn't it let you back in?

Then it happened. You were still a young Seraphim, your wings weren't super strong yet, and as you peered down at the red place your wings gave out. Luckily, your brothers and sisters had trained you in case something like that happened! You were able to slow your descent, at least enough for it not to hurt when you finally landed.

So you started to make your way to the pretty, large building on the hill with a sign that read Hazbin Hotel. Though the building didn't seem quite finished yet, it was still really pretty. Odd, hadn't it just been all broken?

As you pushed your way in through the heavy doors, you saw three people over at a tall counter: A cat man with wings cleaning a really small glass, an angel, but she didn't have her wings out, and- Oh no! She seemed to have misplaced her halo, too! That wasn't good! And a pretty pink and white spider-man that was sipping on a pretty looking juice

The pretty spider-man looked over at you and did a spit-take, nearly choking on his juice.

"What the fuck is a kid doing here?" He exclaimed, gesturing at you, fuck? What kind of word was that? No one had taught it to you, and you couldn't remember any of your fellow Seraphim using such a word, either. This seemed to get the other two's attention as they turned to look at you, shocked expressions on their faces.

"What does 'fuck' mean?" You asked, head tilted in confusion looking between each of the strangers. The pretty spider-man looked like he was going to start laughing but the angel next to him hit him hard in the shoulder, only serving to confuse you more.

"Charlie!" Excited, you ran forward, using your wings to jump higher than you would have otherwise, right into her arms. The blonde non-angel caught you with ease.

The princess of hell's eyes widened looking up to find her companions looking just as confused and shocked as she felt.

This wasn't good, not one bit.

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part I

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Warnings— Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Substance Use, Mature Themes.

A/N— Comment to be a part of the tag list, hope you enjoy this series <3

Series Masterlist

The glossy conference room table reflected the headline of the magazine tossed unceremoniously in front of you.

“America’s New Wild Child: From Runways to Rock Bottom”

Below it was a photo of you stumbling into a hotel lobby, visibly intoxicated, mascara smeared, and your once-iconic dress askew. It wasn’t just one headline, it was everywhere. Every blog, tabloid, and gossip page seemed to have some variation of your downfall plastered across their pages.

Your manager, Angela, sighed heavily from across the table, rubbing her temples. “You see this, right? The Shade Room picked it up. TMZ is all over it. Even Vogue is doing a piece on whether or not you’re the next Kate Moss, but not in a good way.” She leaned forward, her voice sharp. “You’re toxic right now. Nobody wants to touch you.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “This isn’t true. My ex-best friend—she’s jealous. She made this all up.”

Angela gave you a pointed look and slid her iPad across the table. On it was a video—paparazzi footage of you from a few nights ago. You were stumbling out of a car, practically being carried by someone, slurring your words as you waved off photographers.

You groaned and pressed your fingers to your temples. “Y’all please, that was one time.”

“It’s never just one time with you!” snapped Melanie, one of the executives at your agency. “This is becoming a pattern. And we’re not here to babysit you.” She stood, exasperated. “You’re one of the highest-paid models in the world, and now look at you. You’re a liability.”

Angela raised a hand to calm the room. “Give me a few days,” she said, her voice firm. “I’ll clean this up. We’ll fix her image. She’ll be the ‘it girl’ again. I just need time.”

Melanie crossed her arms but didn’t argue. “Fix it fast. Otherwise, we’re done.”

As the meeting wrapped up, you sat silently, staring at the incriminating headlines. After years of grueling work, endless runway shows, and clawing your way to the top, it was all unraveling because of your past addictions and your inability to leave it behind.

Angela pulled you aside as the others left. “You need to clean this up. No more excuses. No more scandals. And definitely no more drunken or high paparazzi shots. Got it?”

You nodded numbly. “Got it.”

“Good. Now, start small. Let’s use that mansion of yours. Throw a party. Invite everyone who matters. Show them the glamorous, sophisticated version of yourself. Make them forget the messy headlines.”

Your lips curved into a small, defiant smile. “A party? That, I can do.”

2 Days Later

The house practically glittered under the LA moonlight, perched in the most exclusive part of the city. Your glam team buzzed around you, perfecting every inch of your hair and makeup as you sipped champagne. Outside the window, you noticed the usually dark house next door was now bustling with activity.

“Looks like someone’s moving in,” you said absently, gesturing with your glass. From the corner of your eye, you saw a guy carrying a box inside. He looked young, around your age maybe two years older, and vaguely attractive, though you didn’t pay much attention.

“Maybe he’ll be better than the last neighbors,” you joked to your stylist, smirking. “If he’s cute, I might even invite him to the party.”

As the night fell, the party roared to life. The mansion was packed with models, actors, and influencers. Music pounded through the walls, and laughter echoed in every corner. You danced like you had something to prove, the champagne flowing freely. At one point, you made out with a fellow model on the balcony to the cheers of a crowd. You were chaos incarnate, and you loved every second of it.

Around midnight, you were helping a tipsy friend into a waiting limo when you noticed someone approaching from the house next door.

“Excuse me.”

You turned, your vision slightly blurred, and found yourself face-to-face with the new neighbor. He was dressed casually—jeans and a hoodie—but his sharp jawline and piercing eyes caught your attention.

“I’m Nicholas,” he said, offering a tight smile. “Nicholas Chavez. I just moved in.”

You arched a brow, leaning lazily against the limo. “And?”

“And I have an audition tomorrow,” he continued, his tone calm but firm. “Your music is loud, and I can’t sleep.”

You laughed, the champagne fizzing in your head. “Well, didn’t you know who you were moving in next to?”

His lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I found out too late,” he said dryly, a pointed reference to the headlines.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Funny. I’ve never seen a single headline about you.”

This time, he chuckled softly, though it was more condescending than amused. “Well, I’ll try to keep it that way.” His gaze flicked down briefly before meeting your eyes again.

You noticed, scoffing. “Nice try, but staring at my chest isn’t going to make me turn the music down.”

“Noted,” he replied smoothly, his tone unreadable. “But seriously, could you tone it down? Just a little?”

You waved him off, turning back toward the house. “Good luck with your audition.”

The door slammed behind you as the party continued to rage on. Whatever Nicholas Chavez wanted, it could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you were untouchable—or so you thought.

You weren’t worried Nicholas would turn out like your last neighbors, the ones who had gleefully run to the press with tales of your ‘wild, disruptive parties’ adding fuel to your already blazing reputation as a noisy party girl.

The party raged on, and you weren’t exactly innocent in keeping it under control. The music blasted as guests danced, smoked, and drank with abandon. Lines of coke were casually set out on mirrored trays, and you caught more than one person lighting up joints in the corners. Even you, despite promising yourself you were done with that lifestyle, gave in after a few glasses of champagne, doing a line or two when a friend coaxed you into it.

By the time the sun started to rise, people were passed out on your marble floors, the air heavy with the stench of spilled liquor and smoke. You stumbled to bed without bothering to clean up, the haze of the night swirling in your head.

You woke to the sound of chaos downstairs—your housekeepers already hard at work, scrubbing every inch of the aftermath. Your head pounded as sunlight streamed in through your curtains. Groaning, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand and blinked at the time. It was already midday.

Dozens of missed calls and messages from Angela stared back at you. She’d been blowing up your phone about a last-minute shoot, one you had completely missed. You cursed under your breath, knowing she’d be furious.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled into the bathroom for a long, scalding shower. As the water poured over you, you couldn’t help but rethink the night before. You’d promised to get it together, to clean up your image, but it was getting harder to hold yourself accountable.

After drying off, you wrapped yourself in a silk robe and walked to your window. Across the lawn, you noticed Nicholas pulling into his driveway. He stepped out of his car looking exhausted, a coffee in hand, wearing a nice suit. You figured he must have just returned from his audition. It must’ve been early. For a brief moment, guilt pricked at you. If he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, it was probably your fault.

Angela didn’t wait for you to sit down when you arrived at her office. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped, slamming her laptop shut as you walked in.

“I’m sorry, A,” you began, your voice hoarse from the night before.

“Sorry?” she cut you off, standing up and pacing the room. “Do you know what I’ve been dealing with all morning?” She grabbed a folder from her desk and threw it onto the coffee table in front of you. A stack of printouts slid out, screenshots of articles and photos from the party.

The headlines were brutal: “A Drug-Fueled Disaster: Is Y/N Destroying the Modeling Industry?”

Photos showed passed-out models, trays of coke, and worst of all, a video of you taking a line.

You froze, your stomach twisting into knots.

Angela slammed her hands on the desk. “This was supposed to be elegant, extravagant, a chance to clean up your image. Instead, you turned it into some rockstar-adjacent drug den!”

“I didn’t know people were recording,” you said weakly, avoiding her glare.

“That’s not the point!” she barked. “You were supposed to set an example. Little black girls look up to you. This is the image you’re giving them?”

You exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Angela, with all due respect, I’m not their mother. I didn’t ask to be anyone’s role model.”

She rolled her eyes, her frustration palpable. “Well, congratulations, because you’re not much of one anyway. This is your last chance. Do you hear me? Last chance.”

You nodded quickly, desperate to make it right. “I’ll fix it. I swear.”

“I already have something cooking up,” she said sharply, leaning against her desk. “But in the meantime, go downtown, look beautiful, and give them something positive to talk about. No booze, no drugs, no nonsense. Just smile, shop, and sign autographs. Sober.”

You groaned inwardly at the thought of dragging yourself out in public, especially hungover, but you didn’t dare push back. “Got it.”

Your driver dropped you off at one of the most exclusive shopping districts in the city. Bodyguards lingered in the background as you strolled from boutique to boutique, taking your time and letting the paparazzi get their shots.

Every time someone asked for an autograph, you smiled warmly and obliged, posing with fans here and there. This was your coping mechanism—shopping your problems away, hoping the public would eat it up.

“Looking good, Y/N!” one of the paparazzi shouted as you exited a store with bags in hand.

You forced another smile, playing your part, and waved at the cameras before ducking into the backseat of your car.

When you arrived home, the guilt from last night gnawed at you. You couldn’t undo the noise and chaos, but maybe you could soften the blow. After all, Nicholas didn’t deserve to suffer because of your mess. Deciding to make amends, you ordered a small cake from a local bakery with “Welcome” scrawled neatly in frosting.

Holding the cake, you made your way next door and rang his doorbell. At first, there was no response, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he was ignoring you. Maybe he had seen the articles and already formed an opinion. The thought annoyed you, but just as you were about to turn away, the door opened.

Nicholas stood there in joggers and a fitted t-shirt, his face a mix of surprise and curiosity. His hair was slightly disheveled, and he looked like he’d just rolled out of bed. His eyes dropped to the cake in your hands.

“Hi, neighbor,” you said with a small, sheepish smile.

He raised an eyebrow, reading the icing. “Welcome?”

“It’s for you,” you explained. “To welcome you to the neighborhood. And, uh, sorry about last night.”

His surprise lingered as he stepped aside to let you in. “Didn’t strike you as the generous, ‘welcome-with-cake’ kind of girl,” he said as you followed him into his sleek, modern kitchen.

The place was immaculate—white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances, and tasteful art on the walls. He set a glass down on the counter and gestured toward a barstool for you to sit.

“Well,” he added with a smirk, “especially not after a night like that. I’m surprised you’re even standing.”

You groaned, slumping into the chair. “Please don’t tell me you’ve seen the articles.”

He grabbed a knife to cut the cake. “The articles, the pictures, the videos, yeah, I’ve seen them.”

You groaned again, covering your face with your hands. “Great. Just what I needed. My new neighbor thinking I’m a train wreck.”

“Not thinking anything,” he said casually, slicing into the cake. His tone was calm, nonchalant. You couldn’t read him, and it annoyed you. Was he judging you? Laughing at you? You couldn’t tell.

You cleared your throat. “Anyway, welcome to the neighborhood. And again, sorry for the noise.”

He placed two plates on the counter, handing one to you. “Thanks. Want to eat this with me? That’s if you’re one of those rare models who actually eat carbs and don’t starve themselves.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Don’t joke about that. And yes, I’ll have a slice. Or two.”

He chuckled softly, taking a seat across from you. As you ate, you studied him a little closer. His face was sharp, striking, he was definitely good-looking, though in a boy-next-door-meets-Hollywood kind of way. Then it hit you where you’d seen him before.

“You’ve been everywhere lately,” you said, setting your fork down. “You were in that Lyle and Erik Menendez show, right?”

He looked up, surprised. “You watched it?”

“I caught the first episode,” you admitted. “It was really good. Intense, but good.”

“Thanks,” he said, his expression softening. “It was a tough project, but worth it.”

You leaned back in your seat. “Hollywood’s a mess. Be careful.”

He nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

The conversation felt easy, almost too easy. Sitting across from him, you couldn’t help but notice how his t-shirt hugged his chest and arms, or the way his jaw tensed when he chewed. You realized, with a twinge of irritation, that you were definitely attracted to him. The idea of tearing his clothes off flashed through your mind, but you quickly shoved it aside.

You had too much going on to add that kind of complication to your life. Besides, sex was supposed to be the last thing on your mind right now.

Standing abruptly, you pushed your chair back. “I should go. Thanks for letting me crash your place. Enjoy the cake.”

He walked you to the door. “If I need anything, should I come knocking?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t plan on babysitting you, but sure, I guess.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Noted, neighbor.”

The moment you stepped through the door, your phone buzzed. Angela’s name flashed across the screen.

“Good,” she said briskly when you answered. “You’re home. I’ll be at your place first thing in the morning.”

“Why?” you asked cautiously.

“There’s a plan,” she said, her tone leaving no room for questions. “I’ll explain everything then, and we’ll put it in motion. Be ready.”

She hung up before you could respond. You stared at the phone, curiosity swirling in your chest. Whatever she was planning, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement. If this was your chance to claw your way back into the spotlight, you’d take it.

For now, you poured yourself a glass of water, settling into the couch as you tried to shake off the day. Tomorrow was a new start—or so you hoped.

[farshootergotme]

Now that I have the confidence to send you asks, fully expect me to bug you periodically from here on out

Anyways- do you think Dick qualifies as a scapegoat? Cause I 100% think he's a scapegoat. People always try to shove the 'golden child' role onto Dick, and it always confused me cause like. He doesn't fit it at all if you actually look into what a golden child is.

Dick is definitely one of the scapegoats of the batfamily (Jason being the other) and it makes me sad that people always label him a golden child when he's the exact opposite. Seriously- he's hit, beaten, unfairly blamed, lashed out at, not told about important things (Jason or being replaced, Jason dying, Jason's funeral, probably other things, i wouldn't be surprised), etc. Definition of a scapegoat to me.

It's also why I hesitate to label him the 'favorite' even when the comics try to say otherwise. Mostly because... favorite children aren't really treated this way. Favorite weapon, maybe, as I've said in a post I've made before, but that's it. Bruce wouldn't kill for him or any of his kids. He's come close, yeah, but he's also come close to killing the Joker too after Jason's death and had to be threatened into not doing it. Every time, it's in a strong surge of emotion, and the second Bruce thinks rationally- well, he doesn't do it. Dick isn't at all unique, Bruce wouldn't kill for him either.

I think Bruce is the most proud of Dick, and has a unique relationship with him due to knowing him the longest and the parentification, but I don't think that makes him the favorite. Maybe to the other batkids, but probably not in reality.

I don't think Bruce really HAS a favorite- Dick is probably the closest to it, but still.

Though, if you wanna play around with angst and fanon ideas, maybe both Dick and Jason are the favorites and that's why Bruce treats them the worst? Dunno, it'd make a fun fic, even if it's not really grounded in canon (though I ignore RHATO and Comic UTRH).

Idk. Just,, gestures. Dick is a scapegoat to me.

Hope my 2 am rambling made sense lol

Okay, I see you, but I'll argue:

Dick Grayson is both the scapegoat and the golden child.

Now, you might not believe this since he doesn't tend to be both at the same time, and it isn't common for these roles to exist within the same individual. But Dick Grayson is praised and favored as much as he's blamed and pushed.

A golden child is the one who carries most of the expectations in the family. The parent expects them to be perfect, make no mistakes, take on roles they're pushed into with no issue (thus parentification can happen), and continue on and on to be good enough and meet the criteria so they don't make the parent disappointed.

The love is conditional hence they develop this unhealthy perfectionism and self-esteem and self-worth issues that will follow them till adulthood even when they're out of that environment and living their own lives.

The reason why a parent might choose a specific child (or children) to be the favored one is because they tend to see this child as an extension of themselves. And consequential to this, they will project their insecurities onto said child and force them to improve—be the best—where they fall short. All of their capabilities are overvalued, making the parent see them as special and much better than the rest, causing the unrealistic expectations a child must hold and fulfill so as not to “fail” their parent(s).

Although this child might seem like the favorite and who could do no wrong on the outside, the love they receive isn't something they can take for granted.

When a golden child underperforms or isn't as good as they're expected, the parent’s demeanor might change. They will feel the disappointment and fear this might cause the treatment they get to change. Sometimes the child might even fear abandonment or rejection from their parent as a result of their failures.

The mix of all this turns into a person who's over-competent, hard-working and someone that tends to take charge of things so they aren't at risk of failing, making them ‘natural’ leaders in any group they might be part of.

Sounding familiar yet?

Now, let's move on to the scapegoat:

A scapegoat child is the one that is blamed by all the things that go wrong in the family. They are constantly criticized and shamed by things they might've not even been part of, but somehow they're now involved and taking all the blame for the others so there are no consequences for anyone but them.

(All the blame also messes with their perception of certain events, making them prone to self-blame for the problems that occur in the family or their behaviors towards them.)

The scapegoating in the family may be due to subconscious projection from the parent when they're dealing with difficult emotions such as shame, guilt, rage, etc. They feel threatened by their own feelings and therefore they will try to escape from them by externalizing those feelings and making them their scapegoat’s problem.

Because of this treatment, the scapegoat might become an outsider in the family, feeling excluded and isolated from the rest. And for this, when push comes to shove and they're going through a rough patch, they will not have any reliable support they can go to inside the family as they'll be ignored or otherwise unfairly treated, having their feelings be invalidated.

Like the golden child, there's some aspects the scapegoat shares with the former:

Being treated differently by the parent/family.

Having unrealistic expectations placed upon them.

Being pushed into roles or responsibilities the child isn't meant to take.

Fear of expressing how they feel.

Self-worth issues and low self-esteem.

Although they're usually roles that are considered opposites, they aren't as incompatible as one might think. A child can alternate between being a scapegoat or the golden child, and this usually happens when the parent is very emotionally unstable, commonly due to a disorder such as narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) or borderline personality disorder (BPD).

(I have so many thoughts about the latter applying to Bruce, but I will refrain from elaborating to not make this longer than it needs to be)

Having all I've said until now in consideration, I'm sure you've noticed how Dick meets both criterias—dare I say the golden child more often than the scapegoat.

Bruce is always speaking about how Dick is “better than him” and “the thing he's ever done right”, but in both of these statements you can see he's taking who Dick is and making it as something that's part of him, comparing Dick's accomplishments to his and putting him in this pedestal, and because of this projection happens and Bruce starts seeing Dick as an extension of himself.

This is why, when he or Dick fail, Dick will suddenly become the scapegoat, contrasting with the former golden child position he was in.

Here you can see the high expectations, praise for his accomplishments, his siblings feeling like Dick is better than them (i.e. treated differently than the rest), and you can also see how when he doesn't meet the expectations, he's met with disappointment (see: Alfred disappointed he's not as bright as he usually is) or judgment (see: Bruce angry at him because he isn't committing to his cause as much as he expects him to).

And these are examples of Bruce being too harsh on Dick and expecting him to do better, blaming him for his brother's death, and in result Dick having a habit of blaming himself and accepting mistreatment, thinking it must be his fault.

More often than not, Dick is put on a pedestal by his family and even his friends sometimes. They praise and love him, but when there's occasions in which he's acting less than perfect, the treatment towards him can change.

Dick Grayson can be the golden child as much as he can be the scapegoat.

[strangersteddierthings]

In the 19 years Steve's lived in this house, never once has he slammed his front door like that. Too scared of his parents' wrath should it have caused any damage.

It feels good.

He almost turns around to do it again, a fuck you to his parents and every decision they ever forced on him, but then he remembers. They're all in there. Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, Robin. In his living room, making declarations and decisions about Steve's life for him. Or, well, one of them is.

Like his parents do. Did?

He didn't grab his keys, wallet, or even his coat, but he's not going back for them. It's cold, sure, but Steve's sure his anger will keep him warm until he reaches a destination. Any destination.

He just doesn't understand why- Why they keep doing this to him.

Why he keeps letting them.

No. No, that's a lie. He keeps letting them because he knows, deep down, he's not a fighter. Not for himself.

He'll put himself between the ones he loves and danger in a heartbeat; he's done that since the first time he watched a petal-faced monster peel its way out of the Byers' wall in '83.

But his parents trained the fight right out of him when it came to himself. It was easier to not argue, to just do what they wanted. They'd smile at him when he was good. They'd take him with on shorter business trips when he behaved. His mom would even allow a quick hug if he impressed a shareholder with how well-mannered and quiet he was.

He won their affections with obedience.

He's never- Nancy and he love each other now, but in the same way they all love each other after having survived the horrors the Upside Down. But Nancy never loved him the way he'd once loved her. That was bullshit.

Even Robin and Dustin. He knows they love him now. Will love him forever, going forward, but both had admitted to having a predetermined idea of who Steve was and what he was like and they weren't wrong but they also weren't right because Steve's never been Steve a goddamn day in his life.

Steve hadn't even known Steve until monsters came into his life.

The way everyone used to refer to him as the Steve Harrington was a judgement all its own. A thing that he was, and had no say to be otherwise.

Even Eddie, in the Upside Down, and now, in his own house.

Steve finally feels like he might be becoming who he really is and he's surrounded by friends and it just made him stupid. He'd thought it was confidence, when he pulled Eddie aside to talk, to confess, but then-

Eddie telling him he's confused. Like Steve is a child learning new concepts and not an adult who has been questioning how he feels about men since he first noticed other boys in middle school.

Eddie telling him, 'you don't want this, man. Not really.'

It's not fair.

Robin came out to him, and he'd just wanted to make her laugh so she would quit looking so scared. Eddie came out to him, and Steve had thanked him for trusting him. Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle confess to all dating each other and Steve congratulated them. But Steve comes out and gets told he's confused?

And Steve didn't even refute it. Just got so hurt he couldn't be there anymore. Left his own house because he'd told Eddie he had a crush on him, and asked if he'd like to go on a date sometime and Eddie said no and told him he was confused.

Eddie doesn't get to decide that for Steve! No one but himself can decide if he like guys or not. No one gets to tell him he's confused about what he's feeling.

It's- that's bullshit, is what it is!

Steve turns on his heel and marches back to his house. His hurt has fully morphed to anger now.

Steve hasn't run away from a fight since '83, and he's not going to start now.

He rips his front door open and is greeted to everyone just inside the door, in various states of putting their winter clothes back on. All the faces look concerned, but he scans for Eddie's.

Eddie who looks relieved for all of two seconds, when it seems to dawn on him that Steve is angry, and it's directed at him.

"The appropriate response," Steve growls as he steps through his door and punctuates those words by slamming it shut again. (It's not as satisfying this time, because he sees how it makes his friends jump.) He barrels on with his words, eyes never leaving Eddie, "when someone comes out to you, is to say 'thanks for telling me' or perhaps even 'thanks for trusting me' or, if one is so inclined, to just say 'cool, dude' but you don't get- you don't get to tell me I'm confused!"

Eddie takes a step back, knocking directly in Argyle, who steadies him, but he doesn't say anything.

Maybe Steve should be more calm about this, given the audience, but he's not able to stop the words now that they've started. "I'm not confused, and I know exactly what I'd be getting into. You don't get to- to try and make your rejection my fault. If you don't wanna date me, just say so. But you don't get to try and tell me how I feel about you!"

From the corner of his eye, he can see Nancy trying to subtly shift herself and Jonathan away from the door, probably to get out of what really should be a private conversation, but Jonathan's a bit preoccupied by catching Robin around the waist as she lunges towards Eddie.

"What the fuck did you say, Munson!" Robin growls, arms swinging out like she's going to claw Eddie to death.

Argyle has inched back a bit, putting distance between him and Eddie in case Robin breaks free. "You dudes should probably talk this out in private."

"Byers, if you don't let me go right now-"

"Robbie, I got this," Steve says, because Robin shouldn't be turning on Jonathan when he's done nothing wrong. Robin continues to glare at Eddie for a few seconds before she makes eyes contact with Steve. He raises his brows slight -I got this- and she furrows hers -are you sure?-, so he tilts his head -yes, really- and she deflates in Jonathan's arms and allows him to drag her away.

"We'll just be in the rec room," Nancy says, looping her arm through Argyles and following after Jonathan.

Eddie doesn't bolt, which is a bit more than Steve expected. They both just stare at each other until they hear the click of the rec room door.

"Steve-"

"That was fucked up, Eddie," Steve interrupts.

"Yeah. It was," Eddie says, but doesn't offer up more, even though Steve is waiting for an apology.

"That kind of reaction is exactly why I didn't come out sooner. What would be the fucking point if no one even believed me? Or worse, if you'd given me that kind of reaction like, six months ago, I probably never admit to liking guys out loud ever again. You can't just- you can't decide this kind of shit for other people!"

"I know! I- I freaked out, and panicked, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Steve," Eddie says, and he sounds sincere and looks almost fragile while saying it that Steve loses a bit of his steam. He doesn't want to just keep yelling at Eddie.

"Yeah. Well. Thanks for apologizing," Steve mutters, crossing his arms with a huff.

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he seems to gather all his courage and says, "have I fucked everything up between us?"

"No. Not- I'm going to, like, need some time to get over my crush, but no. It's- it'll just be take time-"

"No! I mean, I can't- if you don't, uh, like me like that anymore I get it, but I- what I meant was. Well. No, I guess that answered my question."

Steve is confused, now. For real, and not about his sexuality. "What?"

"What?"

"You did it again. Deciding for me if I liked you or not."

"Shit. Fuck! Sorry," Eddie drops his head into his hands and groans. "I'm fucking this up so bad."

"Than use, like, real, whole sentences and speak to me!"

"I like you!" Eddie blurts. "I have a crush on you, too, but I- I fucked it up!"

"Yeah. Kinda."

Eddie makes a really pathetic noise at that.

"Not so much we can't, like, figure it out, though," Steve offers. "Not, like, right now, because I'm hurt and angry, but like, I'm not going to stop liking you because of one fight. Not. Uh, not now that I know you like me, too."

"Oh," Eddie whispers, then frowns. "For real?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "I said it, didn't I?"

"Sorry, it's just, just good things don't happen to me. It's- I'm processing, okay."

Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh and heads towards the rec room. "If you want to leave to 'process' alone, I get it, but you're welcome to stay. We can get this party re-started and hang out."

Eddie's silent a moment, and Steve thinks he's going to ask if Steve's sure, but instead he gets a quiet, "yeah. I'd like to stay." and the sound of Eddie's footsteps following him to the rec room.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss

[wisteriaiswriting]

𝔻ℙ𝕊 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

Type of date | Location | Are they romantic? | How much money will they spend | What happens after | Blurb

Words: 3161

Due to Ashe being, well Ashe. You’d think she wouldn’t do dates or much romance, but surprisingly yes! Much preferring calmer and simple dates.

Has set up your private room at her base, [Whether you live there or just visit] so she’ll set up in there.

She has very little experience, but with you she tries, and often succeeds. Flirts a lot, but you get all her real attention.

During her Deadlock days she’s gathered a pretty penny, and she’s willing to spend plenty of that on you. Even if you deny her, it won’t stop her.

Absolutely adores when you cuddle up to her, holding you back and closer. All the while making sure both of you are comfortable before falling asleep herself.

***

Ashe’s day was rough, and returning to you made the world around her seen non existant. Able to fall into your arms and the many, many blankets. Tugging you closer into her arms as she got under them.

Quickly enough she noticed your breathing evening out, looking just in time to see your eyes shut. Only able to chuckle at that, she just arrived and you were already out like a light.

Leaning down to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead, pulling away, and in the dim lighting was barely able to see the mark she left. Her thumb brushed over it as she thought.

It didn’t take long for her to do it again. And again.

If he’s being honest here, he had and still does, no clue what to do. But likely he found something, and that was heading out for a drink and maybe some food.

Mostly takes you to some bars and a few pubs when hungry.

He tries, and comes off real smooth yet kinda awkward. (He hasn’t done this in a while.)

Has very little to his, nothing legally. So he won’t spend much of the little he still has, but he will steal anything for you. (Be the distraction, please.)

Still awkward, but now he’s calmed down a bit. He’ll walk you to your residence before asking for a second date.

***

“C’mon now darlin’, don’t let this old dog down.” There he went again. You weren’t sure what would happen if he had a few drinks, but definitely not a flirty drunk. But luckily enough he stuck with you no matter what.

Also meaning you were subjected to all his flirting.

“Cassidy, again, you brought me here.”

“Did I? I mean why wouldn’t I, a catch like you with me, obviously.”

She’ll adapt to what you enjoy, but if she was given the choice it would be a movie.

While she would prefer staying at home or base, wanting your time together to be, well together. Although she wouldn’t be against the movie theatre.

Has no experience. But throughout your time together and even before, she’s always learning, especially what you prefer.

It’s likely Winston finds out and gives her the money. Using that on snacks and tickets if needed. Otherwise most of it is spent on you.

Will walk you to your room before leaving, finding Winston or Mercy to talk about it.

***

“Echo!” Turning around to find Winston making his way closer, one hand was closed, holding something likely for her.

“Oh Winston!”

“I was informed about the date, and was able to gather these.” He dropped the things into her open ones, revealing plenty of money. Especially more than enough in notes to pay for anything needed.

“Thank you, I’m sure Y/N will also appreciate the help.” With that she floated off, on her way to your room. Now she had this, all she needed to do was confirm with you.

He’ll drag you to a nearby arcade. But if you’re up in Japan he’ll bring you to one he frequented as a child / teen.

Either place will be loud, bright and flashy. Unless you become uncomfortable with anything he’ll actually enough the kids.

Hasn’t really lost his spark, but due to his death and scarring he might need some help.

Has a bit more than needed, so he’s paying for the whole night. Please don’t try to argue with him.

Afterwards he’ll take you out for food, your choice.

***

Compared to the cold winds outside Genji’s metal hand felt warm, likely from your own heat. Never changing or letting go when you entered the arcade, only pulling you around the place.

And you’d think someone who fights for his life almost every day would be able to win at a basic claw machine, right?

Well you’d be wrong. You watched as he failed time after time before almost giving up, before he finally caught one. It was small and simple but he beamed at you while holding it towards you.

It was a cute [Favourite animal] that held a heart, and there were plenty of other animals inside. Once he realized, now not focused on yours, he was determined to have a matching one.

He’ll much prefer something calming but able to be sentimental, like painting together.

Depending on the activity you’ll either stay home or go to a private studio for the time.

Has very little experience, he tries by giving you gifts. (Please let him know it works.)

He will spend plenty of money on the tools and wood, willing to get anything for the date and you.

You’ll be walked back to your house / room, and when he gets back to his own he’ll place all your gifts onto their dedicated shelf.

***

The day was spent just silently hanging out together. He sat across from you doing his own thing, which used a few tools. All had been brought in a small bag. While you continued doing your own hobby.

About an hour goes by before he moves from his spot. Turning around to gain your attention, using his empty hand to open your own. As he did his face became red and he looked away slightly.

Only looking back to place the item in your open palm. Which turned out to be a small wooden bow that he just carved. But before you could pull your hand away he also placed a few more things next to the bow.

Revealing them to be smaller, also carved arrows. Each one had either your names or your initials engraved.

This man would be the death of you.

He’ll drag you into his workshop, whether you join him or watch he doesn’t mind.

As a criminal he can’t go very far, so you’ll stay in his workshop.

He fully believes he’s romantic, tries but ultimately fails. Has no clue what he is actually doing.

Jamison has almost none, but he can’t use it anyways.

Being secretive the whole time pays off, even if he almost blew it many times. Showing off his project while beaming.

***

For the first few hours you willingly stayed with Jamison in his workshop. But after a while it was clear he wasn’t going to let you see, so without him noticing you left. The rest of your time was spent sitting outside the room while you heard him working away.

Before you knew it he had left the room, almost rushing past you. Luckily turning around in time.

“Oi, why’d you leave?”

“Takin’ to long Jami.”

“Well don’t do that…” He started pouting while reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small box. Placing it into your hands.

“Go on, open it!” Which you would, except there was no way to. Spinning it around until you heard a ‘click.’ The lid opened revealing a small heart rising and spinning, made of scraps and crappily coloured in different shades of red.

“So?”

“I love it Jami.” Leaning over to give him a quick kiss.

She focuses on getting to know you rather than an activity or certain place, wanting you to do the same.

You’ll spend that with each other and away from the others, likely at her place or a nearby yet kinda private park.

Due to, you know, being frozen for years, she doesn’t have much experience, even before that but she tries.

The most she spends is on any food and drinks, but is willing to spend more if needed.

Not much, but she won't let you go until you accept the snacks she made for you.

***

It had been hours since you arrived at Mei’s place, and it was finally time to leave. But it was clear she didn’t want you to leave yet, though she wouldn’t stop you. Surely you have plenty of things to be doing.

As she watched you walk off she suddenly remembered her gifts, the cookies!

“Y/N, wait!” And you did, letting you grab what she needed before rushing out. In her hands were a container, only able to see when she got closer. It was full of cookies.

“I made these earlier, almost forgot.” She giggled as she spoke, flushing red.

“Thank you.”

She much prefers simple and calmer date ideas. Turns out building Legos is a good idea, one she should’ve done earlier.

She’ll have you both sitting in the living room, making sure you’re both comfortable as possible. With enough lightning and the tv as background noise.

Work has always gotten in the way of any romance she’s ever tried, so the only things she knows are from asking Ana. But she still tries, even if they cause her to flush red.

Is absolutely willing to spend plenty on different sets. She makes sure you can finish any set you want.

Helping you find the best placement for them. When you leave she takes pictures and sends them to Ana, fully prepared for any teasing from her.

***

When you entered the first thing you saw was another Lego set, it was from the botanical collection. Specifically the Orchids. All built and setting in a [favourite colour] vase. Footsteps pulling you from the scene.

In the doorway stood Fareeha, frozen while her face quickly became red.

“I can explain,” Stepping forwards as she spoke, taking your hands into her own. “I am aware we built some yesterday, but I saw these and they reminded me of you.”

Everyone assumes it’s a meeting, unaware (Except for Sombra) of what is really happening. Just you two spending quality time in silence doing your favourite activities.

He’ll have it set up in a private meeting room further down from the others, or invites you to his room.

Has plenty of experience (Had a wife) so he has learnt his love languages, being acts of service and quality time, although only with you.

Doesn’t need to spend any of his money but will buy anything you want or need for your hobby.

He’s a knitter, so before he leaves he’ll hand you the item he made. Please find him later for thank you cuddles, he will melt, literally.

***

A hand dropped onto your shoulder, if you weren’t a Talon agent it would’ve taken you down. But the metal claws gave away who they belonged to.

“Meeting room 6.” Smoke covered the area as he left, not wanting to stay around longer than necessary. Listening, you also left the area, everyone quickly became quiet.

The room's lights were off, the only light being a lamp behind him and the curtains pulled slightly open. Across the table sat Gabriel, gauntlets removed and thrown next to the yarn.

He was part way through knitting something, a stack of already finished squares. Just next to them sat the items for [activity], seemingly ready for you to start. And start you did, both of you sitting in silence for the next few hours.

She’ll spend a few hours setting up the perfect movie night, snacks, blankets and a selection of movies or shows.

All this will be set up in your shared bedroom so neither of you will have to walk far for any reason.

She’s aware she’s trying to be romantic, just unsure if it’s succeeding. (It has been for a while.)

The only money she’ll need to spend is on the snacks, buying all your favourites.

Likely one of you two will fall asleep during your bingeing, with the other following soon after.

***

You were both on your 3rd movie after finishing a while 4 seasons of an old yet interesting tv show. But by now your eyes started to hurt from all the lights, and your eyelids were starting to shut.

You knew you couldn’t prevent yourself from falling asleep, especially when you were so comfortable. Vivian had set up everything, so she was aware this would happen and was prepared.

She let you lean onto her, wrapping her own arms around you. And when your eyes finally shut, breathing evened out she leaned over and gave you a quick and gentle kiss. Finally following shut, letting the movie play as background noise.

He enjoys simpler date ideas, the chosen one being a walk in the park. Managing to find a quiet and pretty empty day.

While the majority of your time is spent in the park, he’ll take you to a nearby food place. Ice cream or anything else you might crave.

He doesn’t have as much experience as he lets on due to work, he knows what to do. Just a little awkward about it.

For the chosen dates he won’t need much but is willing to splurge a little during so.

If it’s late enough he’ll take you out to lunch or dinner.

***

The air gained a slight chill whenever it passed you, causing Jack to lend you his jacket, sticking close even then. Without realizing the end of the trail arrived, letting both of you stand outside the park.

He looks up before down at his watch, looking for the time. Apparently it wasn’t late enough to finish just yet, so he invited you out for lunch.

“How about lunch, I’ll pay?”

Of course you accepted, free lunch and time spent with Jack. A win-win situation.

She tries as much as possible to keep you away from Talon, so she takes you to a concert of your choice.

The stadium is large and unsurprisingly loud, but she makes sure you feel comfortable during all of this.

Is much more flirty rather than romantic, but can be romantic if either of you feel like it.

There’s no need for money when she has everything at her fingertips, although if you really want to she will.

She’ll ‘book’ you two a shared hotel room, putting off returning to Talon. Also wanting to spend time with you.

***

“Ángel~” Her voice would’ve shocked you if she didn’t already blind you with her hands over your eyes. “I have a present for you, and I know you’ll love it!”

The air became cold but only in parts around you. Although she didn’t move it seemed everything else had. The once silent air changed, people talking, walking, even cars were driving.

Her hands were removed revealing the new location. It was a stadium, but not for their normal sports game. Banners and posters showed your favourite band/singer, as they were playing here, today!

And Olivia brought you here, you needed to thank her somehow.

***

Ángel - Angel

She plans everything for a fancy dinner date, willing to compromise for something just as fancy but smaller for your comfort.

As long as the place is fancy to a certain degree and has food you both eat she’s willing to have a date there.

Her romantic won’t be noticeable to others, if so won’t be taken as romance. But she prefers acts of kindness, helping you with work and grabbing you things.

While she’s willing to spend a lot on you and your hobbies she does have a limit, although it is pretty high.

Afterwards she’ll have someone drive you both to your place, making sure you’re able to get inside before asking for a second date.

***

As the car slowed to a stop her hand lifted off yours, holding it during the ride. You knew not to open the door, quickly finding out her habit of opening it for you. Only doing it for you though, but neither of you would change that.

When the door was opened she reached for your hand, gently helping you out. Again, her hand didn’t let go of yours until you stepped inside.

“I hope you enjoyed tonight, as I want to ask for another.”

Of course you agreed.

She’ll take you to the movie theater to watch a movie of your choice.

Will go to the theater but also enjoys having home movie nights.

Often enough she’s interrupted by giggling, but she can and has been romantic.

She lets you see the amount, being enough for popcorn, drinks and the tickets.  Before surprising you by buying you both some candy.

On the way home she’ll be ranting about the movie whether it was good or bad. When you both get home she’ll continue on while making sure you’re listening, that’s by trapping you in a cuddle session.

***

“C’mon Love!” Her hand had slipped and was holding onto your wrist instead, but she didn’t let go. The line was surprisingly short, only being a family and a few teenagers so you got to the counter quickly.

“What do you wanna watch?” A quick glance at the options revealed a few good ones, except one stood out.

“How about [Movie]?”

“Yeah, two tickets for [Movie] please!” She continued ordering, getting popcorn and drinks. At first you thought she wasn’t going to get candy, only after she ordered everything else did she get some. Both of you getting cups to choose your candy.

“C’mon then, can’t miss any scenes!”

As she is a known criminal she won’t be able to take you very far, but will go stargazing with you.

The chosen hill is far enough from the Talon base but still safe enough, especially when with her.

She tries to be romantic, won't ever be the best due to her transformation but she tries for you.

For any date there won’t be any need for money.

If you’re not part of Talon she’ll make sure you get home safe, if so then she’ll walk you to your room.

***

The air has grown cold, but never becomes freezing. Staying at a comfortable kind of cold, the kind Amélie had grown used to over the years so it didn’t bother her. Yet it affected you, you shivered slightly as if trying to hide it from her.

You should know better by now, when it comes to you she won’t miss a single detail. Wrapping her arms around you, pulling you closer. When you shivered ceased she let you return to watching the stars.

And instead of doing the same her eyes never left your figure. To her you seemed to shine brighter than those stars.

[jellyfishbeansontoast]

Oh shit, there's only one bed.

really couldn't think of a title but this made me giggle and it's basically the plot summary so enjoy lol. kind of enemies to lovers yay!!

pairing: Sirius x reader I don't believe I made any character descriptions so should be gn

word count: 937

It was almost the beginning of term and the group had decided to make a weekend out of purchasing new school supplies in Diagon Alley, minus Peter who’s parents had already bought his school supplies and disapproved of the immaturity of his friends. Which is ultimately how you've ended up wishing you'd never came, standing in a cramped room in the Leaky Cauldron with the one boy who seems to know just how to get on your nerves. Sirius Black.

It wasn't that you hated Sirius, but the boy knew every way to get under your skin and even after pleas from James and Remus to stop he wouldn't give it up. You'd only tagged along as Remus had begged you to come relentlessly, guilt tripping you shamelessly with how much he'd have to hear about quidditch otherwise.

“There's only one bed.” Sirius gawks after settling down his case.

“Astute observation, Black” you snap, to which he holds his hands up in mock surrender. You bury your head in your hands groaning.

“There is no way I'm getting in a bed with you.”

A momentary look of hurt flashes across your face, did he really find you that repulsive, before you manage to compose yourself “you're welcome to the floor.”

He looks disgustedly at the dirty floor, kicking up a cloud of dust like a petulant child “there is no way I'm sleeping on that.”

“Fine.” you cross your arms in a huff.

“Fine.” he says mirroring you.

You turn on your heel and march towards the bathroom, grabbing your pyjamas on the way. By the time you've brushed your teeth and changed Sirius is already in bed. You resign yourself to your fate and climb into your side of the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You aren't aware of how cold the room is until you can practically feel Sirius’ heat radiating off of him. You shrink further into the covers, defending your ears from the cold. Behind you Sirius makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. You roll around instantly to face him, eyebrows raised.

“What.” you demand.

“It's just-” he sighs “Fuck it, come here.”

“What!” you repeat, questioning if you heard him correctly.

“You're cold, I'm not.” he shrugs like he's just told you a simple fact. He grips your arms and slides you towards him, wrapping his arms around you. Your face is nestled in his chest and despite the situation you can't help but feel relieved at the warmth that envelopes your body. “See?” 

His curls tickle your forehead and you're thankful that he can't see your face for the smile you're trying to contain. You can't help the laugh that escapes as you think about how funny it is that thirty minutes ago you were arguing about sharing a bed and now you're pressed flush against his chest. It's his turn to be confused now, “What are you laughing at?”

“This just isn't the behaviour of someone who hates me.” you retort.

“I don't hate you” 

“You literally asked Remus why he was friends with me” he's looking sheepish now, pulling away from you slightly so he can see you.

“I didn't mean it like that”

“How can you possibly have meant it Sirius?” the bite is back in your voice, guarding your feelings from what he has to say.

His fingers are on your chin, tilting your head up to look at him ��making sure he didn't have any ulterior motives”

“Be serious-”

“I am Sirius” there's a cheeky grin on his face at the old age joke. You glare at him and he continues “I had to make sure Moony didn't have feelings for you, because I do.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Come on don't make me say it again”

“What if I want you to say it again”

Instead he leans down and presses his lips to yours, his hands moving to hold the back of your head. “Did that say it enough?”

“Maybe if you tried one more time it might” you tease. Sirius is quick to appease you, this time you're more prepared and able to reciprocate the kiss properly, your hands curling into the front of his t-shirt.

“Understand now?” he asks.

“I think so” you respond, nestling your head under his chin, eyes fluttering shut.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You only hum in response, Sirius only choosing not to be offended when he hears your breathing slow. He smiles at your sleeping form before wrapping his arms supportively around your back and letting himself also give in to sleep. 

-

“Do you think they've killed each other?” a low murmur voices from the other side of the door. 

“I hope not I wanted to borrow that quidditch magazine Sirius was reading yesterday” 

“I can't believe you're thinking about quidditch this early”

Despite Remus’ best efforts to keep James quiet the conversation is still enough to wake Sirius. He opens his eyes groggily and mentally curses the boys for being so loud. Flinging an arm out behind him he scrambles for his wand, which is somewhere on the nightstand, before unlocking the door. “I haven't been murdered.” he calls, voice still thick with sleep. 

James and Remus enter the room, mouths hanging open at the sight. “Is that-?” they both ask unison.

Their shock is enough to rouse you but you only bury yourself further into Sirius, groaning when the sunlight hits your eyes.

“If we knew this would happen we would've done it sooner.” James mutters before being elbowed in the ribs by Remus.

[antianakin]

I hope this doesn't come off as a knock on the Jedi - because that's sure as hell not my intention - but I do sometimes wonder what could convince a parent to hand their young child over to them. Like, I get that the number of Jedi is miniscule compared to the expected population of the galaxy, and this whole ask is likely just the result of my modern, western, nuclear family-based upbringing. But there are times when I can barely see such a thing happening at all. I mean, if you're a Jedi Seeker, what the hell are you supposed to say to get a mother to willingly give you her infant child?

Again, I do hope this doesn't come off as a knock on the Jedi and their methods.

Maybe consider that the Jedi never seem to be actively going out there trying to convince people into giving up their children. They primarily seem to discover children on their own or who are in bad situations, or the parents call THEM of their own volition and the Jedi simply respond to the call.

You can also look at TPM and the way Qui-Gon handles it with Shmi. Now obviously Shmi and Anakin are in a somewhat different situation than most, given that they're both slaves, which would probably make Shmi's reaction to the offer different than those of regular parents, but Qui-Gon treats her as an equal to himself and as an authority regarding Anakin. He respects that authority by speaking to SHMI before he speaks to Anakin, by asking Shmi different questions about Anakin's past and his powers. And it's Shmi who picks up on what Qui-Gon is carefully NOT saying and asks if Anakin could become a Jedi. And that question lets Qui-Gon know that Shmi isn't against the offer being made to Anakin, so when he makes it official, he speaks to ANAKIN directly. But even after that, he still seems to respect Shmi's authority and her place in Anakin's life when Anakin turns to her more than once.

Shmi seems to primarily just want a better life for Anakin. Even without the slavery situation, she seems to recognize that Anakin's abilities mean that he has the opportunity for a specific career path if he wants it and she chooses to give him that opportunity because she never wants to hold him back. She recognizes that it would be cruel to deny him the opportunity simply to keep him with her.

So it's possible some parents probably view it the same way, that they're giving their child the opportunity for a better life than the one they can offer themselves.

Other parents, like Ahsoka's, seem to view being a Jedi as something of an honor. Even though they CAN give Ahsoka a good life, they recognize that Ahsoka has perhaps a greater destiny that they shouldn't stand in the way of and are HAPPY when Ahsoka shows signs of Force sensitivity. It's not just an honor for Ahsoka, it's an honor for her family and the entire village that she has the opportunity to become a Jedi. The other thing to take into account with this scenario is that the Jedi are sort-of seen as following a call to destiny of sorts, and there appear to be communities who understand that better than most, which means they're likely more inclined to let their child follow that call if the signs make themselves apparent. Groups with their own Force sects (like Lasat, Kel Dor, Chalacatans, etc) might be some of the ones more likely to understand this, which is why we see some of them with multiple family members in the Order at the same time.

These seem to be the most likely options for why a parent might give their child to the Jedi even if they love the child and would otherwise want to keep and raise them. There are also likely some parents who simply don't WANT a Force sensitive child for whatever reason, or parents who just take the first opportunity to offload an unwanted child when it presents itself. Not every parent is a good one, obviously.

I've seen some people argue that Force sensitivity might be something very difficult for a non-Force sensitive parent to deal with, and so they give the child away because they ultimately decide that they cannot appropriately raise a child with powers they cannot control. I don't really buy into this one because neither Luke nor Leia are raised by Force sensitive parents and there doesn't seem to be any issues with control there that we ever see or hear about. But it's POSSIBLE a parent might believe that they couldn't manage a child with Jedi powers and give them up on that assumption, even if it isn't true.

So, yeah, there could be any number of reasons a parent might choose to give their child to the Jedi, even if they love the child and would otherwise want to raise them. It isn't a choice that's going to be for everyone, obviously, and the Jedi have an entire list of people who have either said no or maybe/not yet that they keep in the Temple as a record. So some parents DO say no and choose to raise their children on their own even if the opportunity to give their child to the Jedi is made available to them. Or they simply need time to make the decision or want a little extra time WITH the child before giving them to the Jedi even if they know that that's ultimately what they're going to do.

I don't think the Jedi ever say anything to "get" a parent to give up a child they love. That's never their goal. Qui-Gon talks to Shmi about what Anakin's powers are and how they work, he tells her what her options are, and then leaves the rest of it up to her. All he does is give her more information to work with and an opportunity to act on it if she so desires. That's it. I can't imagine any other Jedi doing any more than that unless the situation between the parent and the child was particularly dangerous somehow and even then, I imagine there are lines they'd try not to cross. The whole episode where we see Cad Bane pretending to be a Jedi in order to convince the parents to give up their children shows us that the parents really DON'T expect the Jedi to do this kind of thing and feel perfectly entitled to say no when it happens.

It's not a choice every parent is going to make, and that's fine. It's not a choice that everyone even needs to UNDERSTAND, necessarily. Different people are going to have different ideas of what's best for their child and how to go about providing that. One parent might feel like giving their child away IS the best thing they can do for their child, even if they could give that child a wonderful life. Another parent might feel like that's the worst thing they could do to their child, even if their situation isn't ideal. These parents are likely to never understand the decision the other one made, but they're making decisions out of the same desire to protect and care for their child. Both are entirely valid choices and there isn't necessarily a right or wrong choice in this situation and that's what the Jedi would understand. All they're there to do is offer information and the opportunity to both parent and child, nothing more, nothing less. What the parent (and the child if they're old enough) does with that is entirely up to them.

[rebouks]

“What’re we doing here?”

Oscar shrugged casually, “Hanging out?”

Robin scoffed with what little joviality he could muster, “Yeah, right…”

Oscar paused and broke eye contact, staring at nothing in particular as Robin waited. It was usually fairly easy to ascertain the direction of a conversation before it even started, given that people tended to rehearse what they’d say beforehand, but not Oscar. His mind was simultaneously blank and fit to burst; he was making it up as he went along most of the time, but that was one of Robin’s favourite things about his father. It paved the way for genuine, on the fly honesty.

“Figured maybe you’d wanna talk-..” Oscar rubbed his temple, “Ask me whatever you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah-.. within reason.”

“Why’d you do it?” Robin blurted out; his eyes full of unbridled curiosity, though his father wasn’t looking at him.

“Willpower is a finite resource, y’know? I had a shitty day and I caved-.. didn’t really think about it all that much, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?”

Oscar sighed, backtracking slightly as he realised that wasn’t exactly the honesty he was going for. “Well, it’s not that you don’t think about it-.. I thought about not doing it a bunch of times, but the second I decided otherwise, I went on autopilot and got it over with as soon as possible so I wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. Probably because thinking on it too hard is uncomfortable.”

“Where’d you go?”

Robin wouldn’t usually have to ask such a mundane question, but he’d struggled to fill in the blanks for himself. Oscar’s memories of the previous night were fuzzy and his thoughts sprawling.

“There.”

“The bar?”

Oscar nodded, still unable to meet his son’s gaze. “You remember it used to be a vet clinic, right? Your grandma ran it briefly, years ago-.. we lived in the flat above for a little while, when you were a baby.”

“I remember.”

Oscar sounded surprised. “You do?”

“Kinda-.. you’ve told me about it n’ stuff…”

Oscar shrugged a shoulder, supposing that’d make sense.

“You don’t have to feel so ashamed.” Robin ventured.

Oscar almost looked at Robin, though his gaze fell somewhere near his shoulder instead. How could a fourteen-year-old boy conjure such compassion? Such accuracy too. Shame.

Sometimes it felt as though he were talking to a man, not a boy. He was still a child, of course; arguing with his siblings over utter nonsense, playfighting, whinging about school and homework, leaving his dirty socks all over the place-.. but sometimes it felt like he understood much more than he should’ve. Oscar couldn’t imagine many people being so emotionally mature at thirty, never mind half as young.

“Dad…”

“I’m sure I’ll get over it-.. I always assumed I’d relapse at some point, but as the years went by, I guess I got complacent.”

“How’d it start? Like, did you just wake up one morning and realise it was an issue or..?”

Oscar shook his head slightly, running his thumb over his beard in thought. “Nah, it was slower, I just ignored it. I’d always been daft and over the top with stuff like that, partying n’ shit, y’know? It was like a crutch after a while though, and eventually, I needed it just to feel normal-.. went too far to feel nothing.”

Robin opened his mouth to speak, but Oscar wasn’t finished.

“You’ll probably get some stupid cop coming to your scout meetings or your school one day and they’ll stand there n’ tell you all about how drugs and alcohol are terrible or whatever, but it’s bollocks. Sure, they’re bad for you, but they feel good and that’s the problem. At least for me it was-.. is. It shouldn’t even be legal, really, not that it’d do much good if it wasn’t-.. it wouldn’t have stopped me, anyway.”

“I’d love to forbid you from going near it, but I’m sure you’ll all try it for yourselves one day. Maybe it’s just something to do, maybe it makes a boring night more fun, gives you the confidence to do something you’re scared of, talk to someone you’re shy around, I don’t know-.. you might hate it, you might not.”

“You hate that you still like it, don’t you?”

Oscar finally met Robin’s gaze as he nodded. “So much.” He wondered if he was making a mistake, being so open, but it was too late now and Robin had yet to balk or appear uncomfortable. If anything, he seemed concerned and intrigued, glad of the chance to ask whatever he wanted-.. not that he couldn’t usually, but the invitation was clearly welcome all the same.

“All your troubles just melt away, but they’re twice as bad when you wake up and doing it over again doesn’t solve much. It’s not the answer, Robin.”

“I know it’s not.”

Oscar’s frown softened as Robin slid beside him, threading an arm around his waist.

“You prefer being sober though, right?” he asked.

“Ah, that’s a loaded question…” Oscar sighed. “I prefer my life when I’m sober, but maybe a part of me will always crave that oblivion. It’s just something I have to live with.”

“Do you think you’ll do it again?”

“I don’t know, bud-..” Oscar admitted. “I’d like to say no but I don’t think I can make any promises, that’s not how it works.”

Robin nodded understandingly; he would’ve preferred it if his father could’ve made that promise, but a harsh truth was better than a hollow lie.

“They don’t mean much if you don’t keep em.” Oscar added.

“I get it-.. thanks for letting me ask you about it though, I know you’d rather keep it to yourself.”

“You’re still young but I know it’d drive you nuts otherwise. Besides, I don’t want it to feel like a dirty secret we can’t talk about, at least between us-.. might not wanna go telling all your friends your dad’s an alky though…”

Robin buried his face in the crook of Oscar’s shoulder and squeezed him tightly, desperate to convince his father that he didn’t think any less of him.

“Nah, they’re got enough ammunition.”

Oscar couldn’t help but snort at that. “I love you so much.”

“I know-.. I love you too.”

Robin said nothing a while as his father held him - or he held Oscar - only breaking the silence upon feeling his restless thoughts return.

“It’ll be the summer holiday’s soon, maybe we could go camping or something?”

Oscar smiled fondly. “Yeah, that’d be fun…”

Previous // Next

[qqueenofhades]

I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to argue with people about the worthlessness of voting third party. They just keep insisting that the influence is worth it, and that I was a coward for daring to suggest that we don't HAVE any other options than Democratic. I even cited how voting third party likely played a part in Al Gore losing ffs.

There's no "likely" about it, Ralph Nader DID directly cost Gore the election. He ran explicitly on the same "both parties are the same, so leftists/liberals should vote for me instead" rhetoric that we are still seeing among the Online Left, and it was successful: he got, for example, over 97,000 votes in Florida. Bush won Florida (and thus the presidency) by a miniscule 537 votes, after the fuckery of Bush v. Gore and SCOTUS ordering the recount stopped in Bush's favor. If the tiniest percentage of those Nader voters had gone for Gore, we would have had a president who was arguing in favor of tackling climate change in the year 2000. We would have been incredibly ahead of the curve. We would, in all likelihood, have a president who took the CIA's warnings of an impending al-Qaeda attack in the US seriously. We would not have had the disastrous Afghanistan and Iraq invasions and the "War on Terror," the rampant Islamophobia, "No Child Left Behind," the 2008 economic crash, and everything else that Dubya and his band of bloodthirsty neocons inflicted on us in the early aughties. Look, I try not to look back too much, but having Gore instead of Bush as president would have reshaped the entire timeline we're living in to such an unfathomably better degree that every moron thinking of voting third party For The Protest should be sat down and forced to learn this history intimately. Of course, they already saw it happen in real time in 2016, but they didn't care about that either.

The good news is: there are plenty of persuadable voters out there, and you can do work to reach them and convince them to vote for Democrats! They're just not online, because all the Online Leftists are terminally brain-poisoned against voting anyway and trying to argue with them is generally a waste of time. Instead, what you should do is take a gander at the following links:

This is the one-stop shop page for volunteering to get Democrats elected. You can do in-person and remote work, there are tons of different ways to get involved (i.e. you don't have to go directly out and knock doors if that's not something you're comfortable with), and your local Democratic party will welcome the volunteer help. There is also a page for finding your state party website:

I went there, clicked on my state, opened the webpage, and there was a "Volunteer" link right in the header, with an easy and quick form to fill out to register your interest and explain the kinds of work you would be interested in doing. You can canvass directly, you can manage data on the back end, you can phone bank, you can send texts and postcards to voters who may need an extra nudge, you can otherwise work with your state party in lots of ways, and it will be so much more productive and make you feel so much better than arguing with online idiots who will never, ever change their minds. What you can do is reach out to voters in your own community, in your own state, and have conversations with people who actually ARE willing to listen, but might need a little more educating on the facts, what's at stake, the truth about this election, and the danger that Trump poses. All of this will convert into critically important Democratic votes, and you can actually put your desire to make a difference into action. So yeah. I would 100% suggest you do it this way instead. Good luck.

[tumbleweed-run]

Future Plans

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober 2023 Day 8 Breeding

“I’m thinking these with the pork we just got would be good for dinner tonight,” Gale said over his shoulder as he held up an apple, rolling it over in his hand to inspect it. 

Of course, it was then that he realized Tav wasn’t actually behind any longer, which would explain the odd look the merchant was giving him. He sighed heavily and turned to scan the area. She was easily found not far down the road, interestingly there was a small swarm of children standing around her watching as she tossed a ball in the air before catching it, where it then seemingly vanish. 

It was an odd quirk of hers, collecting children as one might plants or stones. He’d noticed it not long after they met when she’d somehow befriended just about every Tiefling child in the grove. It continued on through every phase of their journey. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that drew children in, there were any number of admirable traits she possessed that were capable of that.

He made his way to her, apples forgotten. 

As he approached, she caught his eye and grinned. With a bow, she pulled the ball out of wherever she’d hidden it. The children laughed, some clapped. When she handed the toy back to one of them a few made sad noises but otherwise didn’t interfere with her weaving her way out of the crowd she’d drawn. 

A vision of her pregnant swam into Gale’s vision and left him with a strange sense of wistfulness. 

“Sorry,” Tav told him, smiling. 

“You do always seem to amaze the children,” Gale told her, this time catching her hand in his to prevent any further wandering. 

“Of course,” she agreed, tugging on his hand so she could lean over and peer at one of the many vendors lining the road, “children love magic.”

“And I’m sure you’re aware that that isn’t-”

“Have you,” Tav said turning to Gale abruptly, reaching up to tap his nose with a finger, “considered being fun?”

Gale rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that pulled at his lips. “I am quite fun,” he argued.

Tav merely laughed at him. 

It was an image he couldn’t shake, even days later. Gale found himself thinking of it, Tav pregnant, in the oddest moments. Found himself lingering inside her a while longer than normal after they made love. It was silly the way the thought of her becoming pregnant almost spurred him on for round two. 

They’d talked about kids in the past and there would no doubt be at least one future Dekarios. The time was not now, though; their wedding wasn’t so far off, and they were busy planning the trip they’d take after. They both wanted an adventure, just the two of them, and with lower stakes than their initial one. So Tav getting pregnant right now would be poor timing all around. 

So why did the idea stick with him?

“What is going on inside your head right now?” Tav asked from across the room. She was watching Gale through the mirror of her vanity as she got ready for bed. 

Gale let the book he’d been meaning to read drop into his lap fully. “Not whatever this it,” he admitted and looked down to see exactly which book he’d dragged into their room. A Brief History of Undermountain. Well then, he didn’t feel so bad, this would only be the fourth time he’d read the book. 

“But?” Tav prompted as she stood and made her way across the room. Instead of walking to her side she came and stood by him. 

Gale peered up at her as he closed the forgotten book. She took it from his lap, peered down at the title, and discarded it on the dresser. 

“You.” He said in half-truth.

Tav climbed onto him then, sitting so her knees were bracketing his hips and she was facing him. “As flattered as I am that’s not it.”

Gale sighed. “Children of all things,” he admitted. 

“Changing your mind?” Tav asked, her eyes roaming over his face. 

He shook his head. “No, just the thought that I would very much like to put our child in you.”

Tav smiled sweetly, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Gale…” she began

He pressed his own hand to hers. “I know, not now.” He agreed. “But you must admit it paints a stirring image. The merging of ourselves to create something entirely new.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “I, for one, cannot wait to deal with my own child summoning creatures into the house.”

Gale growled playfully and turned to nip at her palm. Tav laughed and tried to wrestle her hand away but he firmly caught it in his own. He licked a line up her palm, causing her to shriek and try to wiggle away. 

Swiftly, he grabbed hold of her waist and flipped them. Tav was now laying on her back, blanket trapped between them. She blinked up at him in response to the sudden movement. 

“Maybe it’s just the idea of all the sex we’ll have that you want,” her tone was teasing. She dragged her foot along his thigh before hooking her leg at his back. 

Gale allowed himself to be pulled against her, dropping his head down to press a kiss to her throat. “I very much like the idea of filling you daily until we get our babe out of it,” he said against the skin of Tav’s neck. 

“Oh,” she dragged out the word, not unaffected by the image Gale was painting. 

“Every day, until we’re successful,” he pressed a kiss between every word as if to make a point. 

Tav’s hips ground against his. “Sounds like a lot of work,” she breathed.

“Maybe we should practice,” Gale suggested and reached between them to pull the blanket out. 

Tav laughed and shifted around to make his task easier. “I think that is a fine idea,” she said when he finally succeeded. 

Gale leaned up and captured her lips with his. She was eager to return the kiss, hands moving to his shoulders simply to hold him there. He rolled his hips against hers and she gasped. He took advantage of the moment and licked his way into her mouth, hips rocking against her all the while. 

He ran his hand down her thigh moving the fabric of her nightgown out of the way as he did. Gale laughed, breaking their kiss to press a series of smaller kisses against the side of her mouth. There was nothing more between them then the thin material of her nightgown and he own clothes.

“Hoping for something?” He teased, scraping the blunt edges of his nails against the flesh of Tav’s exposed hip. 

She grinned. “A girl can hope.”

It was easy enough to slide the rest of the material up, pooling it around her middle, leaving Tav blissfully naked from the waist down. 

Gale sat up on his knees, her leg falling back to the bed, to admire the sight for a moment. She was beautiful beneath him. Tav was always beautiful to him he had to admit. He’d loved her in the heat of battle and he loved her now in the soft quiet of their bedroom. Gale watched her a few moments longer until she squirmed and looked away from him. 

“I am beyond lucky,” He murmured and worked to remove his clothes, the final barriers between them. 

Once Gale was naked, he laid back down between her legs. Tav turned her head back and looked up at him. She then pressed up for a kiss as he leaned over her, one he willingly gave. 

A small shift and he slotted himself between her folds. Gale was normally one to pull at least one orgasm from his partner before getting to the main event, so to speak. Tonight was different though, he needed to be inside of her. Soon, preferably. 

Tav seemed to sense his need and drew her leg around him, encouraging him. 

Ever happy to oblige Gale slowly pressed himself into her. He happily realized she was wet enough that there was no need to disentangle themselves to add oil. Tav was urging him forward, gently squeezing her leg against his thighs. Gale had no desire to rush, simply pushing forward until he bottomed out and then not moving. He showered soft kisses across Tav’s jaw, trailing down as far as he could comfortably go until reaching her collarbone. 

Only once she was squirming did he slowly pull out again, until just the tip of his cock was left buried in her. Only to just slowly begin the same movements over again. 

In a testament to Tav’s patience she allowed him to repeat this same excruciatingly slow roll twice more before growling in frustration. Gale hung in head in an effort to hide the grin he wore at the situation but the way her heel dug into his backside told him she knew.

Swiftly she pushed on his shoulders and twisted her hips to roll them over. Gale allowed himself to be moved onto his back, managing to keep from pulling out of her throughout the whole movement. Once she was seated comfortably atop him, Tav smiled down, pleased with herself. His hands came to rest on her hips. 

Despite her previous frustrations, the roll of Tav’s hips started slow. He was happy to watch and allow her to do whatever she wished. Gradually, she began moving earnestly. Picking up speed and lifting herself up just enough to slip back down. Gale waited for her to find a rhythm before beginning to roll himself up to her. 

It wouldn’t be enough for him, and likely she knew that. Gale didn’t try and change her movements at all. Sweet little moans were punched from Tav’s lips each time she allowed him to bottom out inside of her. Her head was tilted back, a flush dragging down her neck to her chest. He loved watching her chase after her pleasure and would have been content to lie there for hours letting her use him like that. 

Tav leaned forward, one hand braced on his chest and tried to spread her thighs impossibly more. Gale knew what she wanted and allowed his hand to travel to where they joined. Gently he slid his thumb to her clit, Tav cried out at the first brush against it. Her cries devolved into low moans as he continued to rub circles against the bundle of nerves. 

Gale braced his heels against the bed, free hand holding Tav’s hip firmer, and began thrusting up into her. Her nails raked against his chest as she flexed her hand in and out of a fist, seemingly unaware of the red scratches she was carving into him. He didn’t mind, welcomed it even. 

“Gale,” she whined.

Nothing further followed but he knew what she needed. He circled his thumb faster on her clit, hips thrusting in time to meet every drop of hers. He felt her cunt begin to flutter around him as she cried out again. 

Gale quickly rolled them so Tav was on her back again. His thrust were sporadic lacking any kind of finess as he fucked her through her orgasm. She was gripping his shoulders, nails digging in as she writhed against him. Greedily he began chasing his own release. 

It didn’t take long, Tav’s sweet noises and the feel of her aftershocks squeezing around him pushing Gale over the edge not long after her. He pinned their hips together as he spilled deep inside of her, unable to keep from doing that even now. She rolled languidly against him. 

“I love you,” Gale murmured and pressed a kiss against her shoulder. 

He sat up, slowly allowing himself to pull from inside of her. 

“And I love you,” Tav answered, watching him from beneath heavily lidded eyes. 

Gale glanced down and watched as a small amount of cum slowly began leaking from inside of her. He didn’t think, mere pressed his thumb against it and slowly pressed it back into Tav. 

She snorted. “I think there may be something wrong with you,” her tone was light and he took no offense. 

Instead Gale pressed the pad of his thumb into her further, keeping anymore of his spend from leaking out. 

[dragonagecompanions]

DAI Companions reactions to repeatedly being mistaken for a young/teen Inquisitor's parent or older sibling.

Cassandra: At times it feels like she is, and yet it is never something the seeker begrudges. This young person has stepped into a role no one their age should have to fulfill, and with so many relying on them to save the world at least one person should be standing in the role of guardian and protector of their interests. She only wishes it could be her sole priority.

And if, in quiet moments, to have a sibling again is a balm then it a truth no one else need know.

Varric: He was a lousy brother, though is was not as if Bertrand was winning any awards either. But he never really understood the pressures his older brother was under until stepping into part of that role— and Varric never had the strain of ailing mother or the loss of Orzammar on his shoulders. No, he is not sibling material.

But no father could be prouder of a child than he is, watching their young leader stitch the world back together. Kid needs looking after, and Varric Tethras is honored in the burden.

Solas: If the Inquisitor is elven, no matter his plans for the future, the rift mage feels a sort of obligatory kinship to the da’len so far from clan or kin. Children have always been precious, especially to the Elvhen who did not conceive so easily as humans.

For any other inquisitor he does not correct those who make the mistake, and will turn it into a familiar joke later that the herald must be the most attractive of thei species to be mistaken for an elf. It hides how little he cares for the comparison.

Kin slaying is a terrible crime. Best not to build the relationship from the start.

Blackwall: In another life Thom Rainier had scorend the idea of children, and taken pains to ensure that his dalliances would not conceive a bastard he had no intention of claiming. Now his family name is hardly worth the claiming, and he is grateful his only sister took her husband’s name long ago and is free of his legacy.

But as a warden, true or otherwise, Blackwall is honored by such a comparison. If his presence has had any small benefit to the young person upon whom such a task is laid then he is honored by the comparison. And while he would be the first to argue that no one is better off in his care or keeping, Blackwall would be the first to lay down his life to protect theirs, and will do everything he can to make sure they are well.

Vivienne: For the sake of his grown children- and the wife who had done her duty in the bearing- Bastian could not have given her a child. Even if he could have protected it from the clawing hands of the Circle, whose laws had forbidden such a gift. To be a mother was not in her future, and in her youth Vivienne had taken steps to ensure such an accidental fate could never befall her.

But she could have been. In the quiet moments through out the years she had imagined how such a child might grow, might flourish under the love and guidance of two parents who so deeply wanted it. And while the Inquisitor is neither replacement nor surrogate for that dream, in this young person Madame de Fer can see a reflection of what might have been.

If she takes care to guard their appearance, coach their behavior and prepare them as best she can for the great game, it is easily couched in the truth that it benefits the Inquisition to do so. The truth of her affection is hidden away, no further burden on shoulders already heavy with titles and too few years.

But she can dream.

Sera: When she does think about her childhood, the few times it has to be examined, Sera would not have minded another small person to have run about with. It might have made the lessons and the lies less lonely, to know someone else was there to ride through it with.

But there wasn’t. And she didn’t. And she likes the Inquisitor, is happy to have them as both friend and Friend. But family is a sore spot in the tapestry of her life, and adding patches to warped thread does not fix the faulty loom.

Dorian: It is the worst nightmare of most high born alti, that one’s parents might conceive a second child to rival them for the familiar seat in the magisterium. Never a risk for Halward and Aquinea, whose duties to each other and the marriage bed ended w it the birth of a living and magically inclined son.

And yet Dorian would not have minded a younger Pavus knocking about when he had been a boy, someone to share the duties and adventures of Minrathious in those few years before duty locked away simpler pleasures. But when he is first mistaken for the Inquisitor’s father, first mistakenly assigned that guardianship and all it brings?

It staggers him, how deeply the role could fit. For all that their creation is anathema to them, Dorian Pavus would never scorn a child of his blood. Of any blood, in truth. If their herald is young enough and without guardianship, without a future once Corypheus is defeated…

It is a thought for later.

The Iron Bull: Where is the lie? Was he any less worthy of the imereki than those who had left them behind? The feelings that well up when the mistaken role is given do not surprise him, and Bull is perhaps the easiest of any besides Cassandra with taking on that burden. The Chargers are his family, and if they survive the Storm Coast the little Herald is gathered up into that fold without question.

And even with one eye he can see the second Dorian accepts and even relishes the idea. The Iron Bull didn’t come South looking for a family, but one may well be within his grasp regardless.

Cole: “Shared name, shared memories, tied together by all the things that matter. Even when we don’t agree there is still love and trust, striving for something greater than we are. Yes! We are a family. That makes sense.”

Mod Fereldone

[cod-dump]

What would happen if Price got contacted to say his mother or father had died? Would he care? Would he go to the funeral? Would he simply pretend he never saw the letter?

Even worse if someone else found the letter first.

previous

more richborn Price? hell yea

___

Price getting mysterious letter in a PO box he had long forgotten about. It had a hand written name on it, it was familiar, an upon opening it he spotted a name t the bottom, signed off elegantly. One that made his heart almost stop.

Amelia Victoria.

She left out the surname, certainly knowing he would throw it the letter out upon sight of it alongside a name that wasn't his own. He would've crumpled it up by now, but he didn't. All previous attempts at contacting him was from his parents, his siblings had never reached out. Never.

His brother simply didn't care to, he had everything to gain from Price not being present. Of course it had to be Amelia, she was the only person Price would ever considering listening to. It had to be her.

Price stuffed the letter back into the envelope, not bothering to read anything beyond his sister's name. He didn't have the energy for those people, his sister included. It was his own fault, leaving himself open to their attempts at communication, cruel enough to never answer and cowardly enough to never have it in him to respond.

He could disappear, they never would be able to find him. But he never did it.

He threw the letter in the trash as he walked out of his office. If the janitor didn't have the trash dumped by morning then he'd consider reading it.

Of course it wasn't left in the trash.

Price was nursing a morning cup of tea, still waking up when Ghost walked into the lounge. He had a look in his eyes, guilty but also a bit miffed. He looked at Price before he walked over and sat across from him. No words were spoken as he took out the letter and dropped it on the table.

Price felt his eye twitch at the sight. This wouldn't be the first time Ghost had poked around in his trash, Price knew he should've shredded it upon discovering who sent it. It was his own fault for being weak, for being open to reading it.

"Your mum's dead."

Price felt his heart drop, almost dropping his mug. He shakingly put down his tea, breathing as he looked away. Ghost's eyes widened and he looked even more guilty.

"You didn't know."

Ghost spoke upon the assumption he had read it. Of course, he wouldn't have said anything otherwise.

"She's-"

"I'm sorry."

Price took the letter, trying to not rip and tear as he opened it. He skimmed over the words until he found the passage mentioning his mother's death. He was supposed to feel something more than a numbed dread. He was a child who learned his mother was gone, why wasn't he feeling more than this? The shake in his hands wasn't enough, there should be more emotion.

Price honestly didn’t feel much as he read his sister's letter, describing their mother's last moments and the funeral they would have. She wrote as if she already knew he would never attend, and there wasn't any blame. Just sorrow and understanding. Sorrow, it didn't feel enough.

His dear mother, might as well have not been there at all. He vividly remembered her faraway stare, like her spirit wasn't even present. She used to be much more alive when he was much younger, while she was pregnant with his brother. She argued with his father with determination, no fear. Then... it just went away. She never showed much emotion after she became pregnant with his sister. Their father had full reign of the household, of their children.

He wondered if she died that way, numb and absent minded, allowing their father to have his way until the bitter end.

"John?"

Ghost didn't like his silence, probably didn't like the lack of a more earnest reaction. Price never told him about his family or upbringing. Never told him he joined the military to get away from them. Any judgement he was receiving was deserved. Ghost clung to his family when he had them, he loved them fiercely.

"I probably should tell you a few things about me... and keep all of this between us, yea?"

Ghost nodded while watching him carefully. Price really didn't want the others to learn about this, learn everything about him he frankly didn't want them to know.

[zepskies]

DEAN WINCHESTER IMAGINES

Stories are Dean Winchester x Reader unless otherwise noted.

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

You are Dean's one exception. 💚 In which Sam's in love with his brother's girl. (How Dean reacts.)

Sam crosses the line. ✨ You're dating Dean. Sam secretly loves you. He finally sees his chance with you after he's hit by a witch's spell. - [Sequel to You are Dean's one exception.]

⭐ Bonus: The conversation between you and Dean after you "find out" about Sam's feelings.

Reuniting with Dean.** 🩵 Dean returns from Purgatory. Will either of you be the same?

Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.📱 Sometimes he likes your teasing...other times he doesn't.

Dean gives you an impossible choice. 🫢 In which Dean is in love with his brother's girl.

Choosing Him 💞 You’re forced to make a decision between Sam and Dean. - [Sequel to Dean gives you an impossible choice. Contains both Sam and Dean endings.]

Say It Right 💜 You ask Dean for the truth: "Do you love me?"

Headcanon: Personality types Castiel, Sam, and Dean would be attracted to. ⭐

Vintage Collection** 📖 You and Dean discuss (argue about) his favorite magazine, Busty Asian Beauties.

Headcanon:** How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to seeing your breast reduction scars. ❤️‍🩹

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would make up for pissing you off. 😤

Dean reads you wrong. 🤔 He likes you. The thing is, he thinks you might like Sam...

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you teasing him under the table. 😉

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you getting "morning" sickness during pregnancy. 🤢

Headcanon:** How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes. 👕

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would act while you're in labor with his child. 🍼

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Jason Teague would react to you sleepwalking. 😴

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Supernatural Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

For distant cousin of ceil, what about his cousin having similar figures as him, like having blue hair and eyes.

And the child could look similar to ceil but different hair color because they inheritaned their fathers hair color.

Can you do the phantomhive residentes reactions

Lookalike Son | Yandere Black Butler x Distant Cousin Mother Reader

It's not likely that you’re kid is going to look all that much like Ciel. After all, you are a distant cousin of Ciel’s, the only real connection that ties you down is only on paper. But by the off chance, your little tike happens to look like Ciel it’ll be even harder to break away:

Ciel Phantomhive

He’s more than pleased that this child looks like him

What better way to ensure your connection to him than through them

Making it impossible to argue against legal forums when its quite obvious to some degree that you all are related

It does get on his nerves when people keep mentioning 

It and he might even imagine himself being in the position of the brat your child

“Hmph. At least that child is good for one thing.”

Mey-Rin 

She thinks it's cute 

And in her wandering imagination, she thinks of some scandalous reason for this 

But in the end, she doesn’t mind

It just means your desire to leave is completely off-grounds

“Awww it's like havin’ a cute little version of master, yes they are!”

Bardroy

He would be skeptical about the situation if your kid hadn’t had those features

But nothing Ciel does is wrong anyway so that just proves it

But he does enjoy seeing an almost younger version of his master running around

Makes him think about the future you two could have together

Specifically five of your own running around

“Family’s family so don’t fight.”

Finny

He’s thrilled that there’s a child around anyway

He doesn’t really care about that really

All he’s got to worry about is making sure he’s gentle with you and the baby

It is a baby in his eyes+

He’ll just have to burn all that extra energy by smashing those eager suitors Piles of trash

Otherwise he’s more than happy that you really aren’t leaving 

“Awww come on little bird lets fly!”