#that kid in particular i thought didn't like me but apparently he likes me enough to ask a para to help him laminate the sign 😭

[oak-and-hurricane]

sometimes i wonder if my kids know how much i love them but today one of them made a sign for my office door that includes the phrase "if you need anything he's got you" so actually i think i'm doing okay

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: Say You Love Me

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summary: you prank Joe by not saying “I love you” back after seeing another couple do it on TikTok.

warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, illusions to smut at the end.

pairing: joe burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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*no particular date for this blurb!*

(y/n’s pov)

It was a quiet afternoon in the Burrow home, which lately seemed to be a very rare occasion. Joe was upstairs getting ready to go over to Sam Hubbard’s house since a few of the guys were getting together over there. Mostly captains and a couple of other players.

The twins currently sat next to me on the couch while they babbled back and forth with the cartoons playing on the TV.

When I found out I was pregnant, Joe and I had set very strict guidelines for our future kids. Cartoons and tech limit being a huge one we both agreed on.

Well, that was before we became parents. We quickly realized that having two toddler boys at the same time meant using anything to calm them, distract them, keep them content, etc. The list could honestly go on forever.

Now that Joe was going to be leaving soon, I planned to keep them occupied with the TV til they eventually had to take a nap.

As I noticed Miles starting to get tired, Joe came bounding down the stairs loudly making an introduction as usual.

“Hey baby, I'm going to Sam’s now. I'm gonna make sure to get home before dinnertime so I can grill steak tonight.” - Joe

“Mmm. Sounds good.” - you

He made his way over to the couch and bent down to be at eye level with me.

“I've been craving a good steak for a bit so I'm def looking forward to it.” - Joe chuckled

“Okay, babe. Have fun.” - you

Joe leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before pulling away and standing up with a smile.

“Bye, mama. I love you.” - Joe

Let the prank begin.

In all honesty, as fun as this prank was going to be just to see how he'd react it was also kinda sad. Joe has always made it apparent to verbally profess his love for me, and not matching his statement would certainly be something he'd dwell on.

When we first started dating back in high school, Joe made it known to me that the statement “I Love You.” was not something he just threw around. To him, it was a more intimate thing and he'd only tell it to someone if he truly meant it.

I was lucky enough to be one of the people on the receiving end of those three special words leaving Joe’s lips.

But for right now, he wasn't getting the return of those special words.

“Bye Joe.” - you

I tried to study his expression when he realized the fact I didn't say it back but for a second it didn't seem like he had. When he did though, it was very obvious. Maybe she didn't hear me? Joe thought.

Joe leaned down and kissed me once again, this time a lot longer than the first.

“I love you.” - Joe

“Have fun at Sam’s!” - you smiled

The look he gave me wasn't a reflection of hurt but more of confusion and worry.

“You okay?” - Joe

“Yeah, why? I'm great!” - you

He stood there for a second trying to take in my body language, but there wasn't a noticeable difference to him.

“Okay, just checking.” - Joe

Leaning down once again, Joe pressed a very thorough kiss on my lips. My hand rested on his cheek and my thumb rubbed under one of his eyes as we kissed. After, our foreheads stayed touching, and Joe just smiled at me.

“Bye, I love you.” - Joe

“Bye, baby. Tell the boys I say hi!” - you

Joe abruptly stood up after that. They way you kissed him wasn't matching your lack of sentiment.

“y/n? Did I do something?” - Joe

“No. Joe are you okay?” - you

He scoffed before collecting his thoughts and speaking.

“Well I was but i’m kinda confused now.” - Joe

“About what?” - you

I watched Joe cock his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes at me, he was completely and utterly lost.

You were acting completely normal, and happy; kissing him and calling him baby, but you wouldn't say I love you back?

“Do you not want me to go?” - Joe

“What no? Do you want me to not want you to go?” - you

“I mean I wasn't going for that, but I feel like I should stay now.” - Joe

“Why?” - you chuckled

Joe crossed his arms across his built chest, making his muscles bulge, and huffed out a loud breath.

“Are you mad that I was gonna go hang out with the guys today? If you didn't want me to go you could've told me.” - Joe

“You know I don't care if you hang out with your teammates if anything I encourage it. Why are you acting like this?” - you

“What do you mean me?? y/n, what the hell is happening?” - Joe

“I don't even know what you're referring to.” - you

He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his soft curls while heaving a sigh.

“Okay nevermind, whatever. I'm going now. I love you.” - Joe

Joe watched me intently and very closely to see what my next move was.

“Have fun, Joe. I'll be here with the boys waiting for your return.” - you

His expression and body language stayed the same but the words that left his mouth next said the opposite.

“Do you not love me anymore?” - Joe

My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his question, have I gone too far?

“What?! Where did that even come from? That's a stupid question and you know it.” - you

“Yeah, sorry.” - Joe looked down at his feet

There were a few seconds of silence before Joe looked back to me.

“I’m gonna go now, or else I'll be late.” - Joe

“Okay, c’mere give me a kiss.” - you

Bending down once again, Joe pressed little pecks on my lips over and over again before pulling away.

“Love you.” - Joe smiled

“Thanks.” - you

“y/n… I’m your husband. Why won't you say it back?” - Joe

“Say what back?” - you

“Don't play dumb. Every time I say I love you, you completely dodge it. What’s that about? If I did something tell me. Please.” - Joe

“Dont know what you're talking about.” - you

Joe’s jaw clenched up and he looked at his two boys who were by now watching him and I instead of their show.

“Hey guys can you go upstairs so Mommy and Daddy can talk?” - Joe

Oh shit.

The boys nodded and eventually went upstairs to their room. Once Joe saw their little frames disappear he turned back to me, his nostrils were flared and he looked mad.

“y/n, what the fuck did I do? It's not our anniversary, you're not on your period, we were literally cuddling an hour ago, and you are kissing me like nothing is up. Why won't you say you love me? It's fucking me up like hell, y/n.” - Joe

I stood up abruptly and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck.

“If this is a joke- I swear to literal God.” - Joe

“I'm so sorry Joe. It was just a little prank but I took it way too far, please don't be mad at me. I seriously didn't intend to get you this worked up. I didn't know it'd mess with you like that.” - you

He stayed silent and I moved my head to his chest, his heart was beating unhealthy fast.

“Joe? Baby, are you okay? Your heart is beating really really fast.” - you

I looked up at him as I rubbed his back with one hand, the other rubbed over his heart. Joe was looking straight ahead at the wall, trying to not acknowledge me.

“Say it.” - Joe

“Say wha-” - you

“Say it.” - Joe looked at you

I moved my hands to cup his cheeks and placed a huge kiss on his lips.

“I love you. I love you so much, Joe. I love you more than anything.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe smirked

“You ass!” - you shoved him as he laughed

We eventually stopped laughing and pulled each other into a hug.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe smiled and kissed you

Joe and I kept kissing as our hands started to roam over each other’s bodies. Though I protested, Joe pulled away eventually and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” - you

“Texting Sam and saying something came up last minute.” - Joe

I smiled and came up with a quick response.

“Oh, something def came up.” - you held eye contact with Joe before flicking your gaze down to his crotch

“Now you're in trouble.” - Joe

He tossed his phone onto the couch and picked me up bridal-style, running to the stairs as we both giggled.

I really loved Joe with my whole heart.

[vilevenom]

One more quick little thing before I head to bed for the night! This one is for @em-doods, because we got to chatting about some sweet, sweet JD and Clay sadness ❤️ If you haven't gone to check out her adorable trolls art, I highly recommend it! I especially recommend checking out this post here, as well as this one, since those are the versions of BroZone's parents referenced in this ficlet~

It's relatively short, but I hope you enjoy it, anyway!

One of the last things John Dory had expected when he'd settled himself on the beach outside Bruce's resort was Clay plopping himself down next to him. Truthfully, they'd been getting along much better in the few months that had passed since Floyd had been rescued, but there was still plenty of tension between the middle and eldest brother. They'd talked through a small handful of issues, such as Clay's bitterness about John taking all the fun out of him being the 'Fun Boy', and John's incessant need for their past performances to be 'perfect'. However, the two still did not tend to purposefully seek out each others company.

"Uh…hello?" John chuckled rather awkwardly, offering Clay a lopsided smile, "What's up?"

Clay simply stared out at the ocean for a moment, before turning his gaze to John Dory. "Tell me about Mom and Dad."

John blinked, a bit taken aback by the sudden demand without preamble. "Sorry, what?"

Clay rolled his eyes, but didn't seem particularly annoyed by John's confusion. "Tell me about Mom and Dad. I don't really remember a whole lot, and I know you've got a memory like a steel trap."

"Oh. I suppose you were only about nine when they were taken, weren't you?" John mostly muttered to himself, rubbing at his chin. "Okay, sure. Uh, is there anything in particular you wanna know?"

With a short shrug Clay leaned back on his hands, turning to stare back out at the ocean. "I dunno…Got any fun stories from when we were kids?"

John thought about that for a moment, before snapping his fingers, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah! When we were little, Mom used to make up all sorts of fun little dances while she was doing chores and things around the pod. She liked singing well enough, but she loved dancing. One of my personal favorites of hers was her laundry dance. When you were old enough to walk on your own, you started trying to mimic her dance moves. You usually wound up falling over and tugging whatever laundry Mom had just hung up down, and getting all tangled up." John let out a fond laugh, shifting to sit forward a bit. "She'd laugh and help you get untangled, all while you cried about messing up the dance."

"Is that why you got me doing the choreo for BroZone?" Clay sniffed, a small frown on his face.

John sighed, his joy at recalling his mother quickly dampened by Clay's apparent need to constantly remind John Dory of what a horrible brother he'd been. "Maybe a bit, yeah," he admitted quietly, letting out a little puff of air. "You loved dancing. With Mom, especially. I guess, maybe…maybe it was a bit to keep her spirit alive with us. With the band." He sighed, rubbing at his face, "That sounds selfish."

Clay snorted, shooting John a wry smile. "It totally does, man."

"Shut up," John laughed, shoving his brother gently in the shoulder. Clay swayed slightly, but made no move to retaliate. John chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before blurting, "You look like her."

Clay startled slightly, turning wide eyes on John. "Excuse me, what?"

"Sorry, I-ugh," John raked his fingers though his hair in mild irritation at himself. "You look like Mom. You take after her. A lot. The rest of us sort of take mostly after Dad, but you look so much like Mom. And it's way more apparent, now that you're older."

"Do I?" Clay sat up and glanced at his hands, flexing his fingers.

"Yeah, bro. Mom was super into books, and she had all these amazing ideas," John sighed wistfully, watching the waves roll into the sandy shore, "She was super smart, and really kind. And she was just ridiculous. Any time one of us would go to her with some stupid little kid idea, she'd do her best to help us achieve whatever it was, even if it was practically impossible." He laughed, before he began to rummage around int the pockets of his vest, finally pulling out a well worn photo. "Here! I almost forgot I had this on me."

Clay accepted the photo reverently, eyes wide as he took in the still frame from so long ago in their past. A very young John Dory was stood next to a tall, lean looking troll with voluminous teal hair. Clay barely recognized himself in the photo, a trolling no older than perhaps five, propped on her hip, shyly waving at the camera. "Is that…?"

"That's you and Mom, yeah. I think this picture is right around your fourth or fifth hatchday. You were starting to get a bit too big to be carried around, but you kept getting jealous of Floyd, so Mom would make a point of carrying you around as much as she could."

"Oh," Clay murmured, startling a bit as a wet drop hit the corner of the picture. He tipped his head back to find the sky devoid of clouds, only to quickly touch his face and realize he'd begun to cry.

"Even despite being in that cage, she always did her best to make sure everyone always had a smile on their face," John continued quietly, not noticing his brothers plight. "After Mom and Dad got taken, you started trying to do that. Fill that void that Mom left behind, trying to make everyone laugh or smile…" Finally, he looked up to find Clay with silent tears pouring down his ruddy cheeks. He looked alarmed for a moment, reaching out hesitantly, not quite sure if his touch was welcome, only to jerk in surprise as Clay fell into his side with a sniffle. With mild trepidation he gently settled his arm around Clay's shoulders, giving him a little squeeze.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the soft crashing of the waves on the beach, and Clay's quiet, hiccupping sobs.

"I forgot what she looked like," Clay admitted after a time, not moving from his brother's hold.

"Sometimes I forget, too," John sighed, rubbing Clay's shoulder, "It's why I'm so glad I managed to get hold of our old photo albums when I went back to the tree. You can keep that one, if you want."

"Can I?"

"Of course. I've got plenty more, back in Rhonda."

"Thanks, JD."

"Anytime."

[avatar-anna]

Baby Mine

or just young dadrry being a dad

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

Reality struck Harry in the face when he realized Y/n was showing.

The text he got from Y/n saying she was pregnant? Mind-blowing, but also a little surreal. The conversations he had with his parents and management? An out of body experience. But seeing Y/n with a baby bump for the first time, with his baby? His knees nearly buckled from the stark realization that this was actually happening.

He was going to be a dad.

It was a terrifying thought. Harry was still a kid himself—in all the ways that mattered, anyway. He played video games with his mates, he stayed out late on the weekends, and it felt like just yesterday that he'd gotten his driver's license. He could barely successfully cook pasta, let alone take care of his own child.

And Y/n, the girl he'd only known for a short couple months. The girl he really liked to the point where he still talked to her even after his trip to LA was over, she was here with him, on tour, walking around in his hotel room in one of his t-shirts, her stomach stretching the soft material just enough to be noticeable.

"I thought we could have dinner together," she said, coming over to where Harry was still holding vigil by the door. "I was craving Mexican and I remembered you saying you liked tacos, so I did a little exploring, and voila."

His eyes darted over Y/n's shoulder, and there were in fact various Mexican dishes wrapped up in foil packaging. It smelled good too, but it wasn't quite enough to pull Harry from his stupor.

"I...I'm meeting someone. The boys. For dinner," he said.

It wasn't quite enough to pull his head out of his ass apparently, either.

"Oh."

Y/n blushed, her gaze flickering away from his. Harry felt like a dick, especially since it wasn't true. But he freaked out. He was freaking out. Playing house—or hotel—with a girl he barely knew and pretending it was perfectly normal for them to prepare to have a baby together was too much. All of a sudden, it was all too much.

"Have—Have fun, then. I'll probably head back to my room, I guess."

It was painfully awkward, but Harry didn't know how to make it better. So, like the grown adult he wasn't, he mumbled a reply and skirted around Y/n to set his duffle bag down before mumbling his goodbyes and leaving again.

He was gone for maybe an hour. While he was gone, he walked around aimlessly, letting himself get lost in an unfamiliar city. And in all that walking, he gave himself time to think.

Harry knew he'd been an ass. Y/n hadn't done anything wrong, and knowing that he disappointed her made him upset. Because the truth was, he really liked her. She shared his stupid sense of humor, she liked the music he liked, she had a cute little birthmark on her right shoulder that Harry couldn't help but feel compelled to kiss whenever he saw it. She was beautiful and smart and outgoing.

And now she was having his baby.

They were both to blame for that. Both of them had been careless that particular night, but Y/n had been clear to Harry when she told him about her being pregnant. "I want to have it, but I'm also not going to force you to have it with me," she'd told him when they eventually had a phone conversation. "I don't, like, expect anything from you, but I just didn't think it would be right if I kept this a secret from you."

"How did your parents take it?" Harry had asked because her voice contained a steely nerve that was deflecting non-existent judgement.

"Not great, but they'll come around. Eventually. I hope."

She'd said the last part so quietly, as if she wasn't truly sure her parents would actually accept the fact that their daughter was pregnant.

"I want to help," he blurted.

Y/n had looked at him with wide eyes, and a pang of guilt lanced through him at her surprise. She'd genuinely thought he'd leave her high and dry.

"Help?"

"I—I want to be a part of this, or help you raise it—the baby. I want to help. Like we're a team—Not a team. Like a—"

"A team. I like that."

Harry had been glad to be put out of his misery, though to his credit, he never imagined ever having this conversation, and he at least hadn't cried yet.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I think family is too much right now," Y/n said. "But a team...a team looks out for each other. Makes each other better."

So they were a team, though clearly Harry had been dropping the ball recently.

He was just...scared. Terrified. But he could only imagine what Y/n was thinking, how she was feeling. Since she'd joined him on tour, they talked about everything but the baby. Whether that was conscious or subconscious on either of their parts, Harry wasn't sure, but he knew they couldn't skirt around the subject forever. When he first told his mum about Y/n being pregnant, Harry insisted that he could do this, that he was grown enough to raise a baby. He wasn't exactly sure how true that statement was, but one thing he did know was that he could do much better than he was now.

When he got back to the hotel, Y/n was spread out along the plush sofa, eyes closed and arm resting idly on her belly. Harry wasn't so scared at seeing the bump this time around. In fact, a part of him was a little excited.

Y/n startled a little when Harry knelt by her side, her eyes bleary and a little red. "Sorry. I was gonna go, but I sat down for a moment and—"

"Nothing to be sorry for," Harry interrupted. "I'm sorry, actually. I was kind of an ass earlier."

Shaking her head, she said, "We don't owe each other anything. It's not like we're—"

"But I want to. I know things have been a little awkward, but I like you, Y/n. A lot. That hasn't changed."

"Really?" Y/n asked, and Harry felt bad when she sounded so unsure.

"Really. We...obviously didn't expect this to happen, but I want this. With you. Even if we are a little young and out of our depth here."

Y/n laughed. "Try a lot."

Harry grinned, resting his hand over hers where she was still holding her belly. "But we'll learn. Together. We're a team, right?"

Her eyes softened then. She ran a hand through his curls, the touch delicate but comforting, and Harry couldn't help but lean into her touch. "Yeah. We're a team."

They stayed like that for a minute, maybe two, but Harry eventually straightened, his grin widening as he said, "Right then. We should welcome the newest member of our team, shouldn't we?"

Y/n giggled as Harry shuffled around until he was face to face with Y/n's stomach. He lifted her shirt gently, his breath catching when he saw the baby bump up close.

"Hello there...baby. I'm Harry. Your dad," he said, only feeling a little silly. "You don't have a name yet, but I just wanted you to know that I love you, and your mum loves you, and even though we're a little on the young side, we're gonna take care of you the best we can. And so will your uncles."

"That was sweet, H," Y/n said, her fingers tracing the side of his cheek. "And...I do have a name in mind."

"You do? I didn't know that."

Y/n gave him a smile that felt like she was teasing him. "Because I'm telling you now. I've been testing it out in my head for a few days."

If Harry thought the baby bump made all of this real, talking about potential names would definitely do that. But whether he was ready or not, this was happening.

"Alright. Hit me with it."

A small smile creeped onto Y/n's face. "Simone."

"Simone," Harry repeated, trying it out for himself. "How'd you land on Simone?"

Y/n shrugged casually, but Harry knew that she put thought into it, that this name meant something to her. "It's pretty, and, I don't know, we talked about Nina Simone on our first date. It seemed right."

Thinking about their first proper date gave Harry butterflies. He remembered how nervous he was to go out with Y/n, spending an embarrassing amount of time picking out the right clothes and fixing his hair. But when he actually met her at the spot they agreed on, all his nerves went away, and he spent the whole date marveling at the fact that he was on a date with Y/n and all the things they had in common and how he didn't want it to end.

"It's perfect," Harry agreed, then bent his head to kiss Y/n's belly. "Hi, Simone. I can't wait to meet you."

A few months later

"Do you want to hold her?"

Y/n was in her hospital bed, hair hanging limp around her shoulders. She looked tired beyond belief, but she was smiling brightly at Harry as she held a little bundle of blankets, one of which was his mother's handiwork, Harry realized.

He found himself nodding, and before he was maybe ready, Y/n passed the baby over to him, and he was holding her. His daughter.

Harry looked down, a swirl of emotions squeezing his heart. She was asleep, the world's tiniest hand pressed against her cheek while she took deep breaths. Logically, he knew she didn't have any distinguishable features yet, but Harry felt like he could see himself and Y/n in her. Just gazing at her little face, he felt like he could see the next fifteen years playing out—the first words and steps, seeing Y/n holding her backstage, recitals and sports games, school projects, first loves, all of it.

An overwhelming feeling Harry couldn't name washed over him. It brought tears to his eyes as he realized just how much he loved her, how much he was willing to bend over backwards and protect her. And when he was able to break away from looking at her for a second, he found Y/n's gaze and saw the same look in her eyes, and one of understanding too.

Harry looked back down at his daughter, that overwhelming feeling rushing through him again, and for a moment, he wondered if that would ever go away. He wasn't sure he wanted it to.

"Hi baby," he whispered. Bending his head down, he kissed her forehead. "Hi, Simone. Welcome to our little family."

He knew Y/n was listening, but he didn't mind. It felt right that it was just the three of them sharing this little moment before everyone else flooded in to see the baby.

"We're a little unconventional as far as families go, and you'll probably have a different childhood than other kids," he said, not caring that Simone couldn't hear or understand him. He needed to say it. "But I'll love you with all my heart, and so will your mummy. You'll want for nothing because we'll give you the world, but you might have to be a little patient with us because we're new to the parenting thing.

"But I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy," he continued, his voice breaking. "I'll never let you feel unloved. I'll change your nappies and wipe your tears and make you smile. I'll be the best daddy for you. I promise."

Harry didn't know what the future held, but that he was sure of. He'd been scared and anxious the last few months, but now that he was standing in a hospital room holding his newborn daughter, he didn't want to give her, or Y/n, anything less than what they deserved.

Years later

"Dad, you're squeezing too hard."

"I don't care. My baby's abandoning me."

"I'm going to college!"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

Simone began to squirm, but Harry still wouldn't let up. He was currently in the process of blinking back tears, and didn't want her to notice when he eventually did pull away.

"I'll be back for Fall Break," she said quietly, giving into the hug and squeezing Harry tight.

Harry took a deep breath and let go, even though he wasn't exactly ready to. Mustering a smile, he said, "I know. I'm just going to miss you. You're my baby."

Simone didn't balk or roll her eyes or contradict him, she just gripped the straps of her backpack as she gave him a wobbly smile. "You have plenty of babies to take care of at home."

Harry grinned and looked behind him where Y/n was keeping watch over the rest of the Styles family, though none of them were really babies anymore.

Looking back at Simone, he said, "Behave yourself, okay? Don't do anything Uncle Louis would do. And no boys for at least a month, please?"

Simone did roll her eyes then. "Sure, Dad."

That wasn't totally convincing, but he knew it was the best he was going to get. Harry pulled Simone in for one last hug, memories of the last eighteen years playing in his mind like a fast forward reel. Part of him couldn't believe he was already dropping Simone off for her first year of college, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to let her go. When he looked at her, he could still see the little baby he held for the first time, the one he promised to protect and do his best to raise. He hoped he fulfilled that promise.

"I love you, bug. Call me if you need anything. Any time, any place, you call me, okay?"

Tears appeared in Simone's eyes as she nodded. When Harry was ready, he finally stepped back and walked back toward Y/n and the rest of his family. As everyone got in the car Simone watched, waving to her siblings from the curb until Harry eventually peeled out of his spot, feeling like he was leaving part of his heart behind.

"Can we get something to eat?"

"In-N-Out!"

"There's no In-N-Out here!"

"A burger does sound good."

"Skip the song, please!"

"Play One Direction!"

Harry smiled as he shared a look with Y/n. He already missed Simone, but he knew she would be okay. And he found that it was easier—not by a lot but easier—to miss someone when there were five other babies, who weren't really babies anymore, to look after.

[sabrondabrainrot]

Latest EP theory "Moon goes MISSING during his HALLOWEEN PARTY!!!"

🌃🌕🎃🚀

I currently have two theories, mostly on Sun's phone and I'll try to be eloquent but break is only so long and I have limited time!

I've been yelling @ikamigami for long enough on these theories XD but they did help me to refine my rambly ideas.

For starters, for those who haven't seen the ep, to avoid spoiling things for everyone I'm putting the theories under the cut!

Both of my theories are pretty outlandish so take them with a grain of salt, knowing how TSAMS can be, this might just be a straightforward situation where Moon was grabbed and will be used as ransom or bargaining for Sun. However, while I feel that is the course I like to overthink and come to with theories on what else might be going on.

So starting off, my first theory revolves around Sun, Dark Sun, and Sun's phone.

During the party, in my opinion, I think Sun was acting oddly. I propose, it wasn't Sun but instead Dark Sun doing his imposter work. So for starters, Moon leaves to get soda for the party and very shortly after 'Moon' calls 'Sun' to tell him the store is out of soda. Just completely out.

Then Sun, very loudly plays their phone conversation for everyone to hear, which is odd because he went into the other room to take Moon's call but then it got so loud the entire party could hear that Moon was now on his way back, and soda-less. (Kind of odd the store was completely out of sodas?). I will also add Sun abruptly hung up on Moon which seemed very out of character for him.

Furthering this odd behavior, Solar took Dazzle out to trick or treat, which seems innocuous at first but I need to remind everyone up until this episode Sun on record has been too worried and scared to even let Dazzle in the back yard even with Jack's protection. So it's just strange Sun was very.... uncaring? Unbothered? About Dazzle going out, without Jack too. Just with Solar.

Then when Sun met up with Solar later he panicky explained to Solar that Moon said he left the store but he still went there to look for him. The entire time Sun is this immediately scared and stuttering mess. Now, he is worried about Moon but we've seen a much calmer and more mature Sun as of late and I don't think he'd be a stuttering mess.

Now that I've laid the foundation, my idea is, I think Sun has already been grabbed. We've seen recently that Dark Sun, or D!Sun has been more aggressive with his space invasion. He's been coming in and out more and pretending to be Sun blatantly. We had a recent episode where for an indeterminate amount of time D!Sun was pretending to be Sun in their home, around Solar and the kids. Molten was also right there and didn't notice anything. He was full on acting strange and no one questioned it. Dazzle only thought he seemed sad. By the end of the charade, D!Sun just left while asking Solar to call his phone because he couldn't find it.

He gave away the fact their own home isn't safe. Solar knew after calling his Sun that the entire time he was with D!Sun.

Something interesting is the only thing that's so far gotten D!Sun caught when he's pretending to be Sun, is Sun's phone. Forever ago, D!Sun tried visiting Foxy and FC when he was living at his stormy beach house and was immediately caught as not Sun because Foxy was only moments ago texting Sun. While Foxy in particular is observational he would have fallen for the act if not for the prior text messages. Then, later on after the first encounter with Goliath, D!Sun showed up to give advice to, and check up on, Earth and Lunar. The entire exchange would have been innocuous if the real Sun didn't happen to call.

So, keep the timing and Sun's phone in mind.

In today's episode Moon shortly after his strange soda-less run, called Monty and let them know he could not get a hold of Sun, he was apparently trying to call him multiple times. Which, when we find Sun outside not only is the not worried about the missed calls but doesn't even state "I have no missed calls." On top of Monty's call suspiciously cutting off.

Now why would Moon keep trying to call Sun when less than 5 minutes ago he spoke to 'Sun'? I think the first Moon on the phone was actually Nexus pretending to be Moon. He's just not the best at pretending to be Old Moon, so D!Sun hung up before he could give too much away.

The second call I think was Moon, he was trying to get a hold of Sun but due to Sun not being available he called Monty instead. (Reminder, Monty is Moon's go to when he thinks anything might be wrong.) I think Moon calling Monty was not according to plan, him leaving to go to the store was not according to plan. D!Sun maybe sent a signal to Ruin to grab Moon before D!Sun could be caught again. The phone is his immediate give away so D!Sun at this point knows to eliminate that before it can cast suspicion his way.

I think he was at the Halloween party pretending to be Sun as an elaborate distraction scheme. The only people who could stop Sun's kidnapping are Solar and Moon so keeping them unaware something is occurring is the easiest option. However, Moon leaving to grab Soda at the store was very much an unprompted thing. I think this wasn't according to plan. So D!Sun had to improve with Nexus and Ruin.

At the party when D!Sun took the call it was more then likely an exchange of code. How can the store be completely out of Soda? However, if this is Nexus pretending to be Moon, he needed to make up some kind of code. Sun himself may actually be on the run? Nexus might have communicated 'no soda at the soda store' as a means to let D!Sun know Sun isn't secured and to keep stalling. Moments after the actual Moon called and raised suspicion that he couldn't get a hold of Sun, despite 'Sun' being right there at the party. So, I propose, he sent another signal or order to Ruin to grab Moon while on the call to stop Moon from further alerting the others something might be wrong with Sun.

The second part of the plan was probably enacted messily. Plus, a hasty kidnapping plot would buy Nexus enough time to grab and subdue Sun. While that happens, Ruin keeps Moon tucked away somewhere and D!Sun can lead Solar on a literal made up goose chase.

IS this convoluted? Yes. I feel like it's right up a Dark Sun plot though, the guy is a Sun. So, that's my first theory.

My next theory I feel doesn't have as much to it, but it is still solid. I find it a bit more boring? So the way this next theory goes is this, I think what we might be seeing as an audience is the occurrence when two individuals somehow just miss each other at the right moment.

We know Nexus and D!Sun have eyes and ears everywhere, D!Sun was literally able to touch Sun's bed and car. They know everything about their day to day schedules. So it wouldn't be hard to time things in their favor. We saw this recently from Nexus showing up with those drones to talk to Earth in the daycare and Sun at Atlas' study. (They even know where to find that). He also managed to show up and attack Moon while Moon was alone twice. Not to mention isolating Solar twice too.

So with the hyper-vigilance and D!Sun's methodical ways, I think he is orchestrating a trap. I was explaining how strange Sun was acting at the party, and while it is grasping at straws that he's D!Sun, another explanation could be maybe Sun is just stressed? He wants to be a good host to the party. He has a lot of guests to entertain and despite his protectiveness towards Dazzle he trusts Solar to keep her safe.

So with the theory I think the opposite happened, The first person calling Sun was Moon, the store was out of Soda and well....having anything go wrong for a party you planned carefully is stressful. So him snippily hanging up the phone on Moon can be believable, especially since it seemed like Moon was about to start an argument over nothing. Then, while they watch Moon leave the store Nexus called Monty, pretending to be Moon. Nexus just made up a lie about not being able to reach Sun to make Sun and Monty worry that something might be wrong. The only reason Moon would call Sun so much was if he needed help afterall.

Sun, being a good brother obviously would go to the store to see what's wrong. This is when the 'just missed each other' idea comes in. I'm thinking Moon left in advanced and Nexus summoned Sun with the false call, to lure him and hopefully Solar, away from the party and group. With how the timing should go down, Sun shows up to the store when Moon arrives back home to the party. Nexus probably made sure to time it so Sun and Solar would be in the same spot so he could lure them far away in a short amount of time. I think the kidnapping note is a red herring to lead them to a trap. What is the trap? No idea. Nexus is showing that he in particular wants Sun, Solar, and Earth to join him. He's offered a spot by his side to all three. Sun and Solar are right now together in an undisclosed location. It would be interesting to see if Earth is also lured away too.

To me, this theory is a lot more...boring? I think it also holds a bit of water. Let me know what you all think! Which theory did you like more?

[ohtobeleah]

Sticks & Stones // A ToE Blurb

Summary: The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment. And the one you find out you weren’t the only one who kept parenting secrets.

Warnings: Angst. Teenage hellion Odette Bradshaw. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Platonic Rhett Abbott x F!reader.

Word Count: 4k

-> Fade away from reality with the Terms of Endearment series here

I think throughout your parenting life together you and Rooster keep certain things from each other. Not out of spite or with malice intentions. It would be to simply keep the other from spiralling or needing to worry about a situation that had already been dealt with. That had already been handled appropriately and most likely to a parenting degree that would be deemed acceptable by the other party. 

“I remember this one time mum tore shreds off me after I got an after school detention.” This one can be titled: “The one where Rooster finds out about the time you absolutely let loose on your daughter during her teenage hellion years while he was on an eight week deployment.” 

Odette Fitch knew it wasn’t just because of the after school detention. She was big enough and grown enough to understand her wrongs as a teenager—but that didn’t make the pill any easier to swallow. 

“I've never seen her like that before nor do I ever want to see her like that again.” Odette explained all the while she sat by the fire— burning bright orange and red embers in the fire pit Chase had built, explaining how Harrison, her threenager, got in trouble for kicking dirt in some poor kid’s eyes during free play at daycare. “I didnt understand why she was so mad, why she was so emotional but fuck dad–I get it now.” 

“I don't think I know about this one?” Bradley shook his head softly as he took a sip from his beer bottle. “When did you get an after school detention?” Odette can't help but to chuckle, of course you hadn’t told him. You went off like no tomorrow which wasn't like you at all. Your tolerance for bullshit was usually pretty high–but that particular day Odette and her teenage antics had pushed you to a limit that even scared you. It was no wonder you never mentioned it to Bradley. 

So, Dot spills the beans, she finishes her beer and settles a little further into the back of her camp chair and lulled her head to the side to tell her dear old dad about the time she saw you burn in. 

Fourteen Years Earlier: 

“When your father hears about this Odette you better count your lucky stars that he doesn't ship you out to Wabang or better yet, Australia!” 

“It's not that big of a deal mum–” Dot trailed in behind you with her school bag slumped over her shoulder. She was too cool for school nowadays. “Everyone does it!” She’d been busted by a teacher, skipping P:E in favour of an excursion to the lake that bordered the school grounds. There was an old cabin out there one of the groundskeepers used to live in way back in the 70’s. Apparently it was haunted. Dot didn't think so. But she wanted to check it out nevertheless.

“You are not everyone, Odette, you are your own person with bodily autonomy and critical thinking skills and you should know better!” The consequences to Odette's actions had been a call from the principal's office in the middle of the day. You were beyond furious about being pulled away from work, work you were inundated with. What followed was a lengthy discussion with the schools guidance counsellor about your daughter's declining behaviour during class and her grade averages. Odette was smart; she just didn't apply herself–or just didn't see the point in doing so.  

“Uncle Jake said you hated school! Said you hardly ever showed up and that when you did it was to work on stuff in the metal room.” Odette thought she had you backed into a corner as you stopped and turned on your heels. “Yeah, I know things.” It was then you pressed your lips together in a fine line and wished Jake was currently in the US to feel your wrath. But he wasn't. No, He was in Townsville Queensland. In fucking Australia. It said so on the google calendar that sat on your kitchen countertop. The one everyone used. 

“Your uncle is a liar.” He wasn't. You hated school, it was hard being the smartest person in the room and feeling like you knew nothing all at the same time. You were a delinquent at best during your teenage years so the fact you had a teenage dirtbag yourself shouldn't have shocked you all that much. It didn't shock Jake that was for sure. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree he’d tell you when you'd call him just to rant about Odettes’ latest attempt at sending you to an early grave. “And we aren't talking about me, we’re talking about you and your grades and the fact you have an after school detention on Wednesday that I now have to leave work early to come and get your from when you know I work late Wednesdays!” 

There was a small pause in the argument that had begun to bubble over and before you knew what was happening—Odette was challenging you without hesitation.

“Oh i’m so sorry you have to leave work, not like you spend enough time there anyway!” Dot hissed. 

“Enough young lady, your father and I work hard to give you a good life.” That much was true—you never wanted your kids to grow up like you did. You’d do anything to keep a roof over their head and food in their mouths and keep clothes on their backs. 

“Maybe if Mr Carson wasn't such a tight ass–” Dot mumbled under her breath as she sighed and rolled her eyes. This sucked. Everything sucked. 

“Don't you blame anyone but yourself for this situation, Odette.” You pointed a stern finger at your daughter. “And be thankful it's me you're dealing with now and not your father, he’d be livid if he knew.” And then, Odette Bradshaw said it. For the first time ever she said something that tore your heart from your chest, rung it out like a wet sponge before discarding it in the trash.

“How can dad know about it!” She shouted. “He's in prison, remember?” Silence, Odette heard nothing but silence. No “Go to your room young lady.” or “You’re grounded.” Silence was all she heard as you stood there speechless trying to process what your daughter had just said to you. Odette took your silence as a leverage point, she thought she’d won the battle but decided to twist the knife a little deeper just to see how far she could push this new rhetoric. “Rooster isn't my real dad, so he doesn’t get to have a say in what I do and don't do.” Again you were speechless as you stood there with wide eyes trying to regulate the way your heart thumped against your chest. “And he's not even here mum! He's in the middle of the damn ocean somewhere so empty threats aside, I think I'll take my chances when he does come back.” 

Odette really did think she had you beat when you didn't say a word. She smirked, reached for her school bag that she'd dumped by the leg of the table and slung it over her shoulder before turning on her heels. It was then through a haze of rage and repressed emotions that you let your daughter, your first born, the first love you had ever known, have it. 

“Oh–fuck you kid!” You snapped through gritted teeth. Odette had never heard you swear before, let alone heard you swear at one of your three kids. “Fuck you!” When you said it again Odette just scoffed in shock. She was in utter disbelief. 

“Did you really just say that?” She asked softly, confused. 

“Yeah–yeah I really just said fuck you, and I mean how fucking dare you.” There was a rage behind your eyes Dot had never seen before. A sadness. “ After all I have done, after all that I have given to you, my life, my love, my body!” You paused as you stepped a little close to your daughter. “I broke my fucking vagina for that big fucking head of yours!” You spat, it was too much for Odette to compute as you spoke with venom lacing your tone. “And I had to be surgically sewn back together, I bet you didn't know that, did you? Well guess who does know? Your uncle because he was there! Not your fucking father!” 

Odette didn't know that, She always just assumed that her dad had been there when you gave birth to her. Why wasn't he there she wondered? Why wasn’t he there to watch her be born? 

“Oh and you calling him your dad, that's rich considering you have never known the man! So rich when the man who is your father, who is your dad in all the ways that matter most loves you so unconditionally that he adopted you as his own!” You were on a warpath and Odette was your target. “After all those years of your ‘father’ driving me insane with his abuse and his condescending ‘my loves’” You paused to hold back tears as flashes from your past played out like a rolodex behind your eyes. “He talked to me like I was worthless, treated me like trash until I got sick of it!” 

“Mum?” Odette tried to interrupt as tears began to stream down your cheeks. 

“I wanted happiness Odette–” Was all you sobbed. “I deserve happiness! I’m a fucking human being Dot!” You tried to pull yourself together because this wasn't about you or what you wanted. You were a selfless mother who gave everything you had to your children and this was the most vulnerable any of them had ever seen you. 

“Don't you dare bitch to me about my career, little miss ‘I’m so progressive!’ Yes! I worked my ass off to get where I am and I wanted it.” Flashbacks from the time Jake and your own guidance counsellor helped you graduate flashed before your eyes. They believed in you when most people didn't. When you didn't even believe in yourself. 

“I wanted to mean something in this world! I didn’t know that was a fucking crime!?” 

“Mum–” Odette was at a loss for words but nevertheless she still tried. You didn't let her speak. You weren’t done yet. 

“Life isn't perfect, oaky baby? We don't get everything we want. But you’re young, you know, so go on, go make the perfect little life that you want and you see how fucking easy it is and stop bitching and complaining and blaiming me! after all I have ever done and all I will ever do has been in your best goddamn interest.” 

It was Odette's turn to stand in silence, unsure of what to say back to you after your rant. It was clear she broke your heart—that much was evident, but Odette was too hot headed and knew what she thought was everything she ever needed to know. After all, she was fifteen. 

“I’m—“ As Dot when to speak, you held your hand up in order to silence your daughter. She hated the tears that streamed down your face as you refused to look at her. “Mum?”

“Go to your room, I’ve got to go get your brother and sister from school.” Without another world, it was just Odette left in the big house that usually houses five souls at any given time. She felt sick to her stomach for upsetting you so much. 

But as she heard the car start in the driveway she knew she wouldn’t apologise for it. You’d be fine. You were her mother—you had no choice but to love her even when you wanted to kill her. 

Present Day: 

“Now before you whoop my twenty nine year old ass, I did end up apologising and I did go to that detention and I’ve since learnt my lesson.” Dot scrambled to get all that out before Rooster had a chance to lean over and wrap his hands around his daughter’s throat. 

You’d never told him about that, Rooster never would have known if his daughter didn’t spill the test fourteen years later. And even if fourteen years had past Bradley knew that you probably thought about that fight a lot. 

“Your mother was right kid, I would have throttled you.” Bradley shook his head in disbelief, it was fourteen years ago but he was only finding out about it now. He felt like he was the last to know. He should have known, right?

Later that same evening when Bradley made his way home, he opened the front door to the smell of something homely simmering away on the stovetop. Homemade chicken and feta pesto pasta. One of his favourites. 

The portion size had dwindled from five to four to three to two back to three over the years, with kids grown and flying in and out of the house without a second's notice. But the one thing that always remained the same was the love cooked into the food you prepared for your family. No matter how little or how much. 

“Hey Roo.” You beamed as you took a sip from the glass of wine in your hand. You’d just finished cleaning up the kitchen after having used every possible surface available. “How’s Dot doing?” 

“She’s good, Harrison’s giving her a little trouble but she’s good.” Bradley explained as he made his way over to you. “But—she actually told me a little story about a fight the two of you had?” It was the taunting tone your husband used that made you immediately feeling hot in the cheeks. Bradley wasted no time in trapping you between the countertop and his torso, with strong arms encompassing you. “The one where you—“

“No she didn’t!” You cupped a single hand over your mouth with wide eyes when the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. “That little shit head I swore her to secrecy!” Bradley reached for your glass of wine, he took a sip before he pressed his lips together and leaned in to kiss your cheek softly from behind.” 

“You never told me—“ 

“I didn’t want you knowing I swore at her.” You admitted. “You were deployed and I didn’t want you worrying about us at home and—“ Before you could finish your sentence, Rooster spun you around in his hood and had his lips on yours as he pressed you up against the kitchen counter top. His hands were firmly on your hips, holding you close to him lovingly. 

“Before anything, I am a husband and a father first baby.” He reminded you as he let his forehead rest against yours. “I know why you didn’t tell me, and I’m not mad you didn’t because you handled it better than I probably would have—“ Bradley explained as he pushed your hair behind your ear. “But I wish you didn’t have to deal with those very real and very valid emotions by yourself.” 

You paused for a brief moment, smiling up at your loving husband and the aroma of his favourite meal consumed the two of you. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better baby I wasn’t entirely alone.” You explained as you got to work plating up a bowl of pesto pasta for your husband. 

Fourteen Years Earlier: 

What Dot didn’t see was the panic attack that overcame you to the point you had to pull over on the side of the road to let it take its course. Memories of that fateful night and that bloodied devil-like smirk flashed before your eyes. Even after all these years the mere mention of your ex brought you to your damn knees in a crumpled heap. He was a monster. 

With Bradley deployed and Jake overseas a world away in the land down under, you reached for your phone and called the only person you knew would answer your call the first time round. 

“Boys!” Rhett’s loud and boisterous voice travelled down the hall. He was standing in the kitchen making his seven year old boys lunch. Turkey and cheese on wholemeal bread. “Quit fuck assing around, come get your lunch!” As Rhett flung the tea towel over his shoulder and started to pack up the mess he’d made making lunch for his boys—he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. A loud thud came from the living room just around the corner—then? Complete and utter silence. If Rhett knew anything about his kids it’s that when a thud is followed by silence it’s usually not a good thing. “BOYS! you better both be alive when I round that corner!” 

Rhett threw the butter and the block of cheese he’d mangled with a less than sharp butter knife into the fridge haphazardly before he kicked the fridge door shut with his boot. He wasted not a second of time, he needed to investigate the silence now shrouding the farmhouse. As he walked he fished his phone from his back pocket to see your name lighting up his caller ID. ‘Ace.’ 

“Hol’ on—m’ parentin’.” Rhett mumbled as he swiped the pad of his thumb across his screen and held his phone to his ear. Keep it there with his shoulder as he rounded the corner to see one of his twins, Liam, laying on the ground with his eyes closed. “LUKE!” Rhett bellowed into the phone, for a second it made you laugh because Rhett and parenting in the same sentence still made you smile. “What did you do to your brother huh?” 

“He fell!” Luke ran out from behind the lounge and down the hall. “I didn’t touch him!” Rhett groaned in defeat as he scooped his son off the ground to make sure he was still alive. Yep. There was a heartbeat and breathe inside his lungs. 

“I’m fine, I just need a minute—“ Liam mumbled. “And to not fix fences this afternoon.” 

“You ain’t dead, dying or debilitated.” Rhett chuckled as he watched Liam side on the couch with deflated shoulders. “Go eat your lunch and find your brother before I do.” How the fuck was Rhett Abbott a dad? “We’re heading out at two.” 

Liam groaned as he flung himself off the lounge and headed on into the kitchen. It was then Rhett exhaled a sigh and turned all his attention back to you—still waiting patiently on the other end of the line. “How much do you think I could get for two feral seven year olds?” 

“Probably a little more than a fifteen year old delinquent.” You replied softly as you sat pulled over on the side of the road with your hazards on and your forehead pressed against the steering wheel. “I’m sending her to live with you.” Rhett chuckled as he sat on the lounge and held his phone up to his ear. 

“What she do this time?” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you and Rhett to call each other to discuss your children’s antics. Being separated and a co-parenting dad with two twin boys that hardly knew what he was doing, more often than not it was Rhett calling you. But on the odd occasion you called him? It made him feel validated in a sense that it was okay to not have everything under control all the time. “Y/n? What she do this time?” 

“We were arguing about how she got an after school detention—“ You explained only a few details. “And then she hit me with the Bradley’s not her real dad argument when I said she was lucky he wasn’t here to reprimand her.” It knocked the wind right out of Rhett’s lungs. “She’s fifteen! I’m not ready to talk about this yet! She can’t know Rhett—she can’t—she—“ Rhett could tell by the rapid breathing and the panicked tone coming through the phone that you weren’t okay. He looked over to the little digital calendar in the corner of the living room that you all had and saw that Bradley was still on deployment for another two weeks. 

“Ace, listen to me?” Rhett tried his best to console you as he rubbed a hand across his tired face. “You don’t have to tell her, no one will ever force you to tell her anything you don’t want her to know, but she’s a smart kid man—she’s gonna figure it out eventually.” 

“Fuck you Rhett—“ That wasn’t the reaction Rhett was expecting but nevertheless it forced a chuckled from his chest. “You didn’t see the way she dug that knife in, she knew what she said and she meant it too.” 

“Kids are brutal, teenagers are the worst.” Rhett replied. “It’s sticks and stones Ace, be the bigger person and just let her have this one.” You knew Rhett wasn’t invalidating your feelings, he was just giving you level headed advice. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“Nah—“ Rhett smiled with half his mouth as he watched his boys come back into the living room with their sandwiches. Both sitting in front of the TV to watch something Rhett could only assume was mind numbing. He wasn’t allowed to watch TV as a kid, but he wasn’t about to be like his father. “I’m serious, I think she won this round, but just because she KO’d you doesn’t mean you won’t get back up.” 

“I hate you, you know that right?” You groaned into the phone. “Jake would have told me to take the door handle off her door and leave her in there for a week.” You knew that Jake would have been serious too. “I should have called him for moral support, not you and your rational responses.” 

You needed level headedness though, you needed someone to pull you back from the edge of a full blown parenting breakdown and of all people it was Rhett Abbott who did so. He smiled to himself because he knew you’d be okay, he knew the tears had slowly begun to fade and he knew that when you got home? You’d still love your shit head of a daughter. 

“That’s exactly why Hangman doesn’t have kids.” 

Present Day: 

There’s a barely twenty one year old emerging from his room right about the time Bradley has you sitting on the countertop while he stands between your legs. If anything the Bradshaw kids were exposed to public displays of affection more often than most kids were but that was because they had parents who were oh so in love. 

For Nicky Bradshaws who’s home on a rare visit between trips overseas and dedicating his entire life to the sport he loved so much, the fact he watched his parents suck faces often throughout his childhood never made the sight any less gross. 

Nick stood dead in his tracks as he watched his father stand between his mothers legs with his tongue in her mouth like he was starved of oxygen. He let his presence be known by clearing his throat. 

“I still technically live here, you know.” Nick side eyed the two of you as Rooster stepped away to let you down from where he had you perched. It wasn’t a kiss laced with lust—but it had been a kiss filled with love for the woman who had built her own version of a perfect life. “I think I deserve to be able to use the common areas of the house without needing lasik after losing my vision after having walked in on you two getting in on.” Your youngest pointed between you and Bradley. “Y’all have a bedroom—use it.” 

“It wasn’t like that honey.” You tapped your son on the chest. “Here, have some dinner before your father eats it all.” 

“I heard Harry kicked dirt in some poor kid's eyes today.” Nick chuckled at the way his oldest sister had rung him up in the car. “Can’t say he isn’t hers now—“ Bradley laughed along with his son as you deadpanned the both of them. The look you sent them shut their laughter up real quick. “Oh come on ma! Admit it, she was a handful teen and you know it.” 

“You weren’t perfect either Bud.” Rooster had your back before you even needed to defend Odette. “I still remember the time I caught that girl sneaking out of your room when you were fifteen—“ Immediately, before the sentence was even finished, Bradley knew he’d fucked up. 

“What girl?” Your eyes went wide. “Nick? When did you have a girl in your room when you were fifteen?” Throughout your parenting life together you and Rooster keep certain things from each other. Not out of spite or with malice intentions. It would be to simply keep the other from spiralling or needing to worry about a situation that had already been dealt with. “Bradley? What girl!?” You hissed as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“It’s a long story Ma.” Nick replied with a mouthful of pasta. 

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not busy.” You turned to your husband who looked like a kicked puppy. He kept things from you too. And he kept this one from you for a good fucking reason—Nick had begged him to for his own safety.

Nick knew you’d throw sticks and stones at him if you found out he lost his virginity when he was just fifteen. 

“Spill the beans boys.” You willed the pair of them to sit at the table. Nick shook his head in defiance with a mouthful of pasta. 

“No thanks, I chose life.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse e @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb @endofdays56 @seresinsaint @topguncortez @mandylove1000 @clancycucumber230

[deepreviewvoid]

- Trust has no value -

pm Dazai × gn Reader!

Genre: Shenanigans,,

Synopsis: a game of two truths and a lie in an abandoned warehouse quickly turns into a dangerous game of trust.

Background: Reader is also a mafioso, and has known Dazai for a good while after being recruited under his wing, but time alone establishes nothing mutual, especially in a place like the port mafia.

Triggers: this is the port mafia, really, what else should I say? (Knives, Suicide mentions, Blood)

The mafia is a cruel organisation, that is an understatement, it is nothing short of a demonic one that reaps its privileges forcefully without second thought. You didn't have any bright plans in mind, or even a clearer line of morality, so you decided to join for the benefits, the money, and the thrill.

Climbing the ranks wasn't awfully difficult, you were smart and knew your way between the thugs and the knives, sure you've had your scoldings, but each sharpened your will and hardened your tenacity untill eventually, you were recognised by one of the executives, who later took you to work under his team.

He had weird subordinates...to say the least.

An orange haired kid with an attitude? apparently, he manipulates gravity and its the strongest ability known out there. It would be a random beautiful day, but not for Chuuya because he'd always curse the fact that he and Dazai worked almost too perfectly together, infact so well that they were known among the mafia as Double Black, or something like that. He instead preferred to talk about wine and motorcycles, and both topics never interested you, so really, you and Chuuya never found common ground unless it was a battleground.

Then there was Akutagawa, he was quiet, tense, and with a comical amount of temperament. His ability had a personality of its own, which safe to say, it stems from his deepest core which is filled with pure loathing. After working with Dazai for a while, you pretty much realised that Akutagawa was like an orphan he picked and made a punching bag, no wonder he's traumatised.

Anyone would be naive to think that Dazai cared about these two with any possible shred of genuine concern, empathy or even bondship, no.. no no, you'd be gravely mistaken, Dazai intentionally dug out his heart long ago, thus, he solely relies on his mind, his thought process and wit that has kept him alive, and will soon make him the next Mafia head.

You are no exception, you knew that he doesnt trust you, and you never trusted him either but this is the mafia right? We're not here to make friends and share our woes as we cry our hearts out in loving trust. Yes, we're one big family, but that's a metaphor, afterall, we're a family armed with guns, everyone has a gun, anyone can play the game.

You knew the rules and you played the game, you only focused on your tasks and nothing else, however, you also kept one eye out at the suicidal executive, human nature was a personal interest of yours and you couldnt just ignore the opportunity to study how that man works, from afar, of course.

It's been months since you've been here, and today you learnt something new, Dazai has a little something for abandoned warehouses.

________________________________________

"Thank you for joining me tonight y/n!" Dazai said with a hint of sarcastic cheerfulness as he sat crossed legged a top of an empty shipment container, it was practically rusting everywhere.

"I was quite bored, think nothing of it" you were leaning on the container from bellow, staring at nothing in particular. "now why did you actually even bother inviting me is what I'm interested in" you didn't bother making eyecontact, the empty warehouse was already doing its job at echoing your voice loudly enough.

"How should I word this?-" he flipped the pages in his book as his eyes scanned the pages with the help of the dim moonlight. "Think of it as an opportunity, for the both of us" he said in a deadpan voice, not curious or interested, just simply stating.

When Dazai speaks of opportunities, its always about his opportunities. You're not going to get anything out of it, and you knew that too well, so you simply rolled your eyes.

but ... you were willing to play his game.

"Tell me more" you asked, and he replied almost immediately, "do you trust your superior?" and you replied bluntly, "orders are orders so yes, but if we were to sit in a room as strangers with one gun, I don't think so".

And so, you two lashed out in a series of questions being asked by him, to be immediately answered by you.

"Feeling is mutual with the latter, next question, where do your loyalties lie?"

"To the Mafia's prosperity and continuous succession"

"Guns or Knives?"

"Knives, give or take"

Dazai made a sound close to humming just for the notion of the conversation, the page of the book he was holding made a sound as it turned once more, but then the book was abruptly shut right after, as if the new page's contents were boring.

"You know, you're such an interesting person to strike conversations with!" You rolled your eyes at his comment before blunting replying "Do you call this one sided conversation really interesting?", he was the only one asking, but then again, do you even dare ask? There's no guarantee that this man won't play around it.

"Don't get me wrong y/n, I value honesty, you may go ahead and strike me for this ground to be fair" his voice echoed from above the container, and soon enough, he jumped down gracefully to impose direct eyecontact. It was always his way of intimidation, but you also knew your way around, so you burned more fuel into the game by throwing the dice.

"Guns or Knives?"

"Guns are more reliable, they're the embodiment of aiming your will at who you choose to kill, I did notice that you're more of a knife type of person..." his answer ended on a question, and for the sake of this, you didn't entertain him the pleasure of giving an answer, instead you pushed for another question, which made him faintly smirk at the realisation.

"Are you a masochist?"

He chuckled lowly "I don't take pleasure from pain, infact I hate it... and you already know about these" he lifted his arms, "they're just suicidal tendencies, is all"

You took in his words as you both made unwavering eye contact, Dazai was almost always confident in his words, they're a result of his trusty mind afterall. "I'll take my turn now, what do you think of my prowess as an executive?" He said.

"You get things done effectively, your manipulation skills are intimidating and you know how to control the pawns, out of all executives, it seems that you have the least casualties among your men"

"How astute of you, I must say it's even quite flattering" he dramatically raised a hand in fake admiration.

It's your turn now~

"Tell me more about Ango and Odasaku, from my observation, I know that you spend a lot of time with them, what about them? do you trust them?" You didn't break eyecontact as you asked.

"Ango is an informant officer, secretive but rely on him, Odasaku is a great drinking buddy, dont underestimate his low ranking" he effortlessly answered a vague answer, without giving a single hint of doubt in his half assed answer.

At this pace, there's no way you can use this chance to learn more about him, so why not make things more interesting for the both of you? "Do you want to play a game, executive?", his single eye showed signs of intriguement for a moment before a smile ever so faintly crept on his face, he likes games doesn't he? "a magnificent proposal"

"Let's play two truths and a lie, simple, and i'll do you the honors by going first" you smirked slyly as you imposed your three sentences, to which one was a lie.

"I trust you"

"I prefer knives over guns"

"I'm completely loyal to the mafia"

You wanted to play that game, you wanted to make the answer obvious, so you chuckled and nodded when he chose the first statement to be the lie. He found this entertaining, it's entertaining when a game losses its rights to be called a game, because the answers are already there from the start. This was unusual for him, most games he played were of cat and mice in real operations, but this harmless game? Oh it was something else for him, so he proceeded with his three statements.

"I trust you"

"I prefer guns over knives"

"I'm a suicidal"

You both were practically staring daggers at each other when you chose the first answer, and when he revealed it to be the correct one... You both chuckled in quiet irony, the warehouse sending your eerie voices echoing around.

"Chuuya is not as half as entertaining, unless I make him to be, this is more fun, I must confess" he said first between his laughs, and you replied right away with your own confession.

"I agree, Akutagawa hates my guts, I can't even start to have a proper conversation before he lashes out rashoumon at me" you replied dryly, also between your laughs.

Two people just confessed that they don't trust each other and there they are laughing like a bunch of maniacs. What kind of insanity is this? You asked yourself, but in reality, you asked him something far more unusual...

"Then humor me, since we don't trust each other, would you be willing to take a dare from me?" Dazai gave you the most unhinged look for a couple of long seconds, probably out of an act of suspense, he agreed in the end. "If you humor me as well with the same request, then gladly"

Dare for a dare, eye for an eye. You can ask him to do anything and he can do just the same, what enticing possibility should you choose? Knowing yourself, you were already going to choose something psychological, the excitement was apparent in your voice as you placed your dare on the table.

"Close your eye for ten minutes, ten minutes of pure truth where you'll answer any questions I impose with atleast some material honesty"

Without hesitation, nor comment, he closed his one remaining eye as he stood infront of you ever so casually, it was like you're staring at a corpse if it wasn't for his chest heaving as he took his long breaths and his brown locks that were fluttering in the gentle wind of the open warehouse, it made him a pinch more alive.

The executive is already committed to the dare it seems.

"So, how does it feel to close your last eye?" You crossed your arms as you stared at him, making sure to not move yet, as that will give him some hints.

"I would be lying if I said I'm closing the bandaged one, but don't worry, I see nothing" he chuckled, "some people think I hurt my eye, but I didn't, and I wouldn't go far as to visually impair myself. I only wear this patch to switch between my left eye when I'm in a darker environment"

"So you wouldn't go far as to visually impair yourself, but you jump in rivers? Seriously.. Hirotsu made me fish you out before because that old man's back couldnt swim" small cries of laughter escaped your lips as you giggled at the memory.

"Don't question a suicidal, what if I told you that my true love in life is a fine rope?" He said in amusement, sighing also in mock amusement.

Now that's entertaining, you thought. But hey, let's press for more questions, so far his answers are genuine, or atleast appear to be.

You made an intentional sound of shuffling as if to grab something from your attire to give an illusion, to let his mind wander. You approached him untill you were only two steps apart, he stood unflinching.

"Tell me, what's your mind thinking?"

"Two things, you're attempting to psychologically trick me, and what the hell is y/n doing, honest" his lips curved unto a high smile, a sly one.

"It's kind of hard isn't it? You always trust your mind and the judgements it provides because your eyes play a crucial part in providing sources, but without your eyes, what can your thoughts even produce?"

"You know, a blind man can still become a mafioso, they can strongly rely on their other senses to produce judgements that are just as accurate as someone with perfect vision. I don't think there's a difference in my judgement, but I must confide in the fact that I enjoy this test nevertheless"

"What if I told you that I'm holding my knife?"

"That's a lie"

"How could you tell?"

"By sound..., oh, now you're holding it~"

And it was true, this time you were holding your favourite little knife, you ended many lives with with one. It surprised you, but then again, it shouldn't surprise you that he was able to tell the tiniest sounds that a normal human wouldn't hear, that's because our ears don't focus on the little things in life, unless we force them to do so.

"So what about my knife? How do you feel about it?" You made a show, only to yourself of course, by masterfully flickering the knife around, it obviously made sounds as it cut the air.

"I've always liked the shape of your knife's handle, it's very grotesque, which is why I like it. I'm also thinking of all the ways you could stab me right now, it's exciting, can you believe that there are over a hundred of ways to stab someone?!"

You rolled your eyes yet again tonight, he was way too enthusiastic in his mentions of suicide and harm, you probably already know atleast half of his most read book by now, the complete manual of suicide.

"Well? What's the liberty of the knife holding?" He asked, still unhinged, and still he stood in the same position and posture since the ten minute clock.

You shrugged, "it's fun to swing it around", your knife deviously coming close to his own body, you were also enjoying this...

He was only smiling during the whole thing even as you brought the edge of your knife over his non-bandaged cheek.

"So it's true, you really don't fear death" you whispered, as you glided your knife over his cheek, in truth, this knife was a dull one, not your sharp one that you usually kill with so really, It was a pathetic knife that you held so dear, it was a knife uncapable of hurt, it didn't even spill one drop of blood,

unless you applied more pressure,

which you did.

"You know, I don't think I'll prefer to have a bandage on my good side, try not to make it too ugly", his skin tingled with a familiar feeling, the feeling of being cut. "Bandages on both sides? Really?" He sighed at this trouble as if it concerned him greater than the fact that you're running a knife across his cheek, and that a drop of blood is begining its race to his jaw.

He didn't stop you, and this was too prexpeling that you forced yourself to stop.

You wiped it off the drop with your finger, the wound is too weak to spill more than two drops anyway, and you seathed your knife back to its place. You noticed yourself unable to stop staring at him, your stomach slightly flipped at how morbid a human can really be. It fascinated you, but at the same time, you realised you were dealing with a challenge...

This man doesn't tick like a clock, because there were never batteries to begin with.

"It won't scar" you said while looking at your finger, wiping the blood away in your clothes, ah, the privilege of wearing black clothes, you took a few steps back, he's the same, he didn't move since the start. He's an executive.

"That's good to hear" he let out a huff, "what a dull knife you have, why do you keep it with you? If I had to guess, its because it holds intrinsic value."

"Hey, you don't get to ask questions here" you said in mocking sarcasm, he immediately refuted "I get to, ten minutes have passed-" he opened his eye again with a faint smirk.

Already? How long have you been staring? How long have you been trying to stab his cheek? And does he count time just like that? You didn't dare check your phone, you knew he was right when you estimated the time and went over the events in your head, you gave up and sighed.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, hooray" you said in a stern tone, almost mocking him once more. Dazai doesn't hold grudges much, in fact, this guy is a sucker for insults, especially when the enemy insults him.

He simply smiled mischievously "now close your eyes for ten minutes, and answer my questions truthfully" of course, that freak chose the the same dare and you can't complain at your own game, so you immediately shut your eye lids, and the last thing you saw was his face, a finger that he swiped across the little cut you gave him, and a smile.

"Tell me, if I were to do the same, would you let me? Would you flinch?" You thought of the question, and truth be told, an answer immediately popped in by heart, so you answered truthfully.

".. no, not really, eye for an eye I suppose"

"Why do you think that I don't trust you?"

"We've worked together before, we both saw what each of us are capable of, even one of the most valuable lessons you've taught me is the fact that evil expects evil from others"

"Astute, but not the answer I seek"

"Wait, let me guess again"

He let out a huff, you could imagine that he was smiling, "go ahead" he said as if he'd be patient for eternity, even if you took two minutes out of the previous ten.

"Perhaps because trust is a weak word... Does it even have any value to you?" You realised that you just asked him a question, so you didn't keep your hopes up for an answer, however.. he replied.

"It's hard to say, trust is a personal debate of mine, that said, 'trust no one' is a motto some live by, but in reality, if one were to never to trust anyone, then no real progress would pursue. As much as I despise it, Double Black is based on trust, and as much as the head of the mafia despises it, he too must rely on his executives." Dazai's answer was nothing short of well thought and well constructed, still it left you puzzled even more, what was his stance? Is there anyone he trusts?

But alas, don't push your luck is what you've convinced yourself in this moment.

"Over to you now, why don't you trust me?"

"I don't think anyone should trust you, truth be told and I be damned for saying this"

"Oh? Don't worry, do continue, I want to hear your reasoning"

"With all due respect executive, you're awfully good at manipulation, nothing short of a master manipulator. I don't think you'd blink twice before picking up a card and discarding another, you choose not to be a piece in someone's game but always to be the player in everyone's game."

Dazai chuckled darkly, almost too darkly for this. Suddenly, this game has went ten degrees colder. "This is too good" he said a simple sentence, but who knew what it implies, even worse, you can't tell what it really implies when you can't see anything.

Then you heard his footsteps, the sound between each step was consistent so he took normal strides... about four steps, you already estimated that he's one step infront of you, too close.

"I told you, we have the most interesting conversations" he said in a cheerful tone which was now closer. "Do you remember that operation that sent us flying?" His voice wavered a little as he quietly chuckled "the bomb situation at one of our warehouses, it was a chaotic one"

That time, an enemy gang placed a bomb at a mafia warehouse, unknowingly, and unluckily, you and Dazai happened to be near the explosion radius, it was one of the worst casualties that the mafia had in years and after it, came in days and days of endless work to amend the losses and seek revenge.

"That happened almost two months ago, yet I almost forgot you still have that bruise" you can feel his eyes trace that place you know well, there was originally a glass shard that impaled your skin dangerously at the backside of your neck.

"I broke an arm and your neck was bleeding like no tomorrow, yet we held our ground. I'm still surprised you didn't pass out that day" you felt some air on your nose, it didn't take you long to realise it was his breath. Needless to say, he smelled terrible.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Just saying my thoughts out loud, by the way, ten minutes have passed" you waited a few seconds to open your eyes, he was already back where he originally stood.

"Fair game executive, fair game" you smirked at him, sure, he's mysterious, witty and suicidal, but the past hour has been the most interesting thing you'd done since you joined the mafia.

He let out a crooked smile before taking out something familiar, your dull knife. "Do you remember? I asked you if this knife had any intrinsic value to you..."

Once again, you rolled your eyes, of course, he swipped it off you earlier. "What's got you so hooked up on that knife, Dazai?"

"You did just cut an executive's cheek, what privilege already!" He joked tauntingly as he swung the knife across his fingers in a careless manner.

"Says the executive that would let anyone murder him~" I cooed as I slugged ny shoulders.

"Come on, quit blabbering, I deserve an answer" he pouted dramatically.

Eventually, you just let him have what he wanted, he was like a kid demanding candy, and that was scary enough.

"Fine, this is the oldest knife that I have, that's all there is to it. I found it on the street too"

This is also the knife that got you first blood.

"Oh, so that explains why it's so ugly" he flipped it left and right observing it once more, as if the new information provides a whole new picture to the knife.

You sighed before swiping it off his fingers, "Seriously- gimme that" he let you take it, but his smirk was forever plastered on his face for somereason. "Don't even get me started on your taste in river spots!" You seathed the knive back into your little leather holder before looking back him with a teasing taunt, it's almost baffling how he manages to flip between kid and executive.

"You choose the spots that are next to port- I repeat- next to port- that means murky water, contaminated with oils and rust. Is that what you really want to fill your lungs with? In that case, I'd consider suffocation, or even lethal poisoning instead of drowning in pollution. Have some self worth atleast for your dead body"

Dazai didn't say a word, at first which made you second guess you existence, but oh well, he broke into giggles, little by little, into a full blown laughter, even holding his chest with his hands as a form of dramatic flare or perhaps it was genuine. You couldnt hold yourself back, why did that sound come from your mouth, why were you laughing too over suicidal methods? You couldn't help it, you knew half of his damn book.

Eventually, you both calmed down from the hysteria.

"I still don't trust you" he crossed his arms, turned his head slightly away, still in eye contact. "so that means, I can't trust your choice in suicide methods"

"I don't trust you either" you copied his exact same posture, also crossing your arms. "I can't trust your judgement in knives"

"Drink with me tonight?"

"Only if you'll humor me with another dare?"

"Deal".

-End

And that's how pretty much Dazai introduced you to his go to bar, Lupins.

A/N: I'd really appreciate feedback since this is my first. Thanks :) that was fun to write.

[fnaffancontentbutmostlyglamrocks]

This is primarily aimed at Security Breach fans in particular, not FNAF fans as a whole.

You all are so damn toxic sometimes.

Even worse is that people are just being mean to Monty fans right now

"Don’t get all angry because your favorite wasn't in the game," and I don't think they get that he’s the ONLY one not to be in the game.

I hate being a fan of Monty cause we had to deal with the Glamrock Bonnie fans harassing anything to do with Monty on Tiktok or Twitter. "MONTY KILLED BONNIE!"

FOR FUCK SAKES THIS SERIES HAS A LITERAL CHILD SERIAL KILLER WHO ABUSED HIS CHILDREN! WHY IS THE ANIMATRONIC ALLIGATOR WHO MIGHT. LET ME REPEAT THAT. MIGHT HAVE KILLED ANOTHER ANIMATRONIC MET WITH THE SAME ENERGY AS SAYING SOMEONE SIMPS FOR DAHMER?

Not only that, Monty fans have been playing each game hoping Steelwool will treat him better. Expand on his character a bit more. Instead his negative personality traits and "evilness" being played up more and more cause Steelwool and Scott saw some people hate him, and thought it wasn't enough.

In Ruin there's not one moment Cassie shows any concern for him. It's that Monty thing, it hurts to look at. Than they made him just the worst off of the trio, and fucking killed him.

Now even in a game he rightfully should appear in. He's the ONLY one cut.

Monty fans get the short end of the stick.

We are harrassed by fans

Our boy is treated worse and worse each game. Physically, mentally, and even in narrative.

Now, he’s just fucking gone with little fanfare.

Its like why are you obsessed?

Honestly, because Monty speaks to me. This is mostly head canon, but based on how he acts.

I used to have really bad anger issues in elemantary and middle school. Even worse, I had to deal with a mentally abusive teacher telling me I wouldn't amount to anything. I was bullied relentlessly because they knew that when I reacted with my outburst class would be delayed. I even lived in the same neighborhood as them so I couldn't escape. It got so bad I attempted suicide. What saved me was after so long of being harrased, after so long of people only judging me based on what they heard. Never defending me. Someone finaly went to the principal and told them to look at my bullies before I reacted. Suddenly, the bullying stopped. What's sad is, it's not like I didn't try. I went to the principal and guidance counselor every dat. In the end to them I was that punk kid who would snap at any moment. Not a person.

With Monty I see someone who was like me. With anger issues because he hates himself as much as he thinks everyone hates him. I wonder if in universe he's constantly reminded he's not Bonnie. He sees fans clamoring to see Freddy while ignoring him. People always bring up the Missing message and his Arcade game to judge him. Then seemingly forget about the message that states he will skip shows to be over Monty Golf. You know the same shows he apparently killed Bonnie to appear in. What I see is someone who needs to work on his anger issues and get better, but isn't evil. They're dealing with the fact that one day their anger got the better of them, and they did something they couldn't take back. Something that I think many people with mental health problems can relate too.

My anger issues didn't just get me bullied. I was an embarrassment to my parents. I hurt people I loved. I was violent. I didn't hurt anyone, but I threw books and flipped tables. I was in this loop of feeling like everyone hated me because of my anger issues, and that only made things worse and worse. Even now I have a hard time loving myself.

That's why Monty means so much to me. I saw someone who was like me. I saw someone with anger issues but was more than that if people gave them the chance.

All I wanted was to see Monty one last time before he was retired when the new band is announced.

I couldn't even get that.

Before you make fun of me, this is what a comfort character is. I'm sure there are fans who relate to Roxy’s insecurities. Who have an eating disorder and feel for Chica. Who felt lonely and wanted attention like Sun. Who lost a loved one like Freddy.

I just wanted people to understand why this is just more than "my favorite didn't make it" for some people

I really hope Steelwool sees how much people really love Monty and not only put him in HW2 fully. They also treat him better

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 25 - Gareth

Summary: Gareth takes a stand.

Word Count: 996

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Origins, Teen angst, Growing Up, FOI references (Ronnie) but also some non-compliance to FOI (just...gonna skip the painful bits)

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

No one ever doubted how much the Emersons loved their son.

Especially not Gareth himself.

Their house was practically a shrine to him.

Shit, his parents' lives were dedicated to him.

They were well-off enough that his mom stayed home to take care of him until he started school, and then only worked part-time so she wouldn't get bored.

Meanwhile his dad made sure that he was at every activity and chaperoned every field trip.

There were pictures of him on almost every available wall of the house. Ones from tee ball and cub scouts and kindergarten graduation and the first time his dad took him fishing.

They all showed a happy kid.

Of course, there were also ones where he wasn't happy. Those got tucked into albums.

Ones of him crying or throwing a tantrum.

But there was one particular picture of him at 13, looking incredibly pouty. He had a study date with his crush, Libby Nelson, and his dad had brought a camera to proudly snap a picture of them together.

He was embarrassed enough when his mom ran a comb through his hair a hundred times, and when his dad ironed his shirt for him, and when they asked if he wanted to get flowers.

"We're just working on geography homework," he whined.

But after the picture fiasco, after Libby had laughed at him and he had blamed his parents, he decided enough was enough.

He started picking his own outfits to school to wear to school. The other kids picked on him, but he never felt more at ease in his skin.

Then he started listening to the metal station on the radio, despite his mom's complaining that it was all noise. Those lyrics meant something to him.

Eventually he figured he didn't want to do piano lessons anymore, something his mom had enrolled him in.

"But you play so beautifully," she protested. "You've got a gift for music."

"Yeah well," he sniffed, "maybe I want to play the drums now."

He never thought they'd actually get him a drum set.

His parents thought it was just a phase. Rebellious teen years and all; they'd had their own experience with it. But their parents had been too hard on them. They decided to be different with Gareth. Supportive.

They got him the drums, let him set it up in the garage, put up with the endless hours of migraine-inducing drumming, and apologized to every neighbor that complained.

They played it by ear and watched as their son continued to become someone unfamiliar....until eventually that angry noise in the garage turned more controlled.

He'd play along to the radio, mimicking it.

Sang along with his favorite bands until his voice cracked and he cried.

"He's gotta find himself," Mr. Emerson told his wife, who wanted to step out into the garage to console Gareth. "It'll be ok."

It got better when he moved on to Hawkins High.

He made friends with a sophomore named Jeff. They had similar taste in music and jokes, and if it wasn't their class schedules, they'd be inseparable.

Through Jeff, Gareth met and developed maybe...definitely not...sort of a crush on a senior named Veronica Emerson Ecker. Ronnie.

She'd been nice enough, always remembered his name after Jeff introduced them, and apparently played the drums too.

Gareth was head over heels.

"We practice over at this guy Dougie's house," Jeff explained. "If you wanna come watch us practice sometime?"

"I don't think my mom would like that," Gareth dismissed disappointedly. "She doesn't like me listening to metal. I don't think she'd let me go see a band play."

Jeff hummed and then offered another option.

"Hellfire Club?" Mrs. Emerson screeched when she picked Gareth up and saw him wearing the handmade shirt with a demonic face front and center. "I thought you were joining Chess club!"

"I might have lied to you," he muttered.

The first meeting he'd attended had been a disaster--everyone at school knew who Eddie Munson was, but meeting him had been a different story--and he damn near quit.

But he didn't.

It had been fun enough and Eddie hadn't been so bad. He encouraged Gareth to give it another shot which Gareth was grateful for.

He was determined to go back next week.

If his parents let him.

He got a lecture the whole drive home, and then again once his dad got home from work.

"It's like we don't even know you anymore Gareth!" his mother sobbed at the very end.

"Maybe you don't!" He shouted. "I'm not your little guy anymore! I'm 15! I'm all grown up now."

His parents laughed but he kept going.

"I don't fit in with the other kids and I don't want to. I like metal and playing the drums and I like Dungeons and Dragons. The kids in Hellfire are really cool. Dougie...well he's kind of a jerk but he gave me a copy of The Hobbit. It's the best. A-and my friend Jeff is there and he plays in a band too.

"I think maybe that would be cool," he finished sheepishly. "Playing in a band someday."

His shoulders heaved and he watched his parents with desperate eyes, hoping they'd understand.

They had to.

His mom leaned over and whispered in his dad's ear, who simply nodded.

"Growing up is tough," Mr. Emerson said softly. "We're always gonna worry about you; we just want you to be happy, pal. So if you want to be a part of this club, we're not gonna stop you."

All three of them let out a breath of relief, and then his parents were on their feet to embrace him. His dad clapped a hand on his shoulder and his mom suffocated him with a hug.

He was about to go to the garage to play, when his mom held him at arms length and asked, "are you really sure about this Hellfire Club thing?"

"Mom!"

"Ok! Just checking!"

[maochira]

Blue Lock Boarding School AU [Part 1]

Synopsis: Because your father is the principal of a soccer boarding school, you have no other choice than to attend it. Despite that, you're not part of any of the school's soccer teams, which makes your schoolmates wonder why you're even there.

Characters in this part: Isagi, Kaiser, Ness (he doesn't say anything, tho)

Me? Another writing series? Yes. This idea has been sitting in my head for a while and thanks to @youngstrawberry69 I'm finally writing this!!

Tags: gn!reader, reader is Ego's kid (+Ego is older than in canon so him having a teenager kid make sense), Kaiser is an ass (everybody act surprised)

You never really got a chance to decide if you wanted to attend Blue Lock or not. Well, it's not like you ever had any other school in mind anyways. At least that's something you didn't have to worry about. Being the principal's kid comes with its advantages anyways. But also disadvantages.

Everyone knows you're the principal's child. You'd expect that to make them interested in becoming friends with you, but it's the opposite. For some reason, the other students are either intimidated by you or they have an irrational disliking to you. Even now, after weeks, you've never been approached by anyone. And the few times you did try to talk to other students, the conversations were either incredibly awkward or you were straight up ignored.

You simply gave up on trying to find friends at Blue Lock. Everyone is focused on their own ego anyways, so you decided you should as well. You got used to it quickly to some extend, but the feeling of loneliness remains in you.

In the recent days you've noticed a particular student has been eyeing you more and more often. Yoichi Isagi. But because you're aware of the way everyone at this school views you, you don't think much of it. It's not like he'd ever approach you to talk, right? No one ever does.

While you're walking through the hallway, lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear footsteps getting closer and closer to you. Not the type of footsteps that sound like someone wants to walk past you, these are the type of footsteps when someone is approaching you.

For some reason, you thought it would be Isagi. Maybe you even hoped it would be him. But no, it's Michael Kaiser. Someone you've heard a lot of not so good things about. And of course, he's accompanied by Alexis Ness.

"Look who we've got here. All alone as always." Kaiser says in a condescending tone before he lets out a short chuckle. He opens his mouth to continue talking, but you've decided to ignore him and speed up your steps to escape his presence.

But Kaiser isn't having any of that. "Where do you think you're going?" He grans your wrist to prevent you from walking away.

"What do you want?" The annoyance in your voice is obvious, but Kaiser ignores it.

"Oh, I just wanted to talk to you." He pulls his hand away form your wrist and gets a step closer. "You know, there's a question I've always wanted to ask you."

"What do you want to know? Just get over with it." Even though Kaiser does intimidate you a fair bit, you try not to show it. You don't want him to feel as if he has any power over you.

"Well, I've just been wondering, why aren't you in any of the school's soccer teams? Aren't you the principal's kid? Shouldn't that make you a prodigy? But you're out here with no talent at all."

It's really hard ot not get provoked by Kaiser's words and the stupid smirk on his face. "This is none of your business." You get ready to walk away once again, but quickly notice Ness is standing in your way to prevent you from leaving.

"So you admit you have no talent?" Kaiser laughs mockingly. "Just leave this school already. Why are you here if you suck at soccer?"

"Leave (Y/N) alone!" A somewhat familar voice yells from the other side of the hallway. Familar enough to recognize you've heard him before, but not enough to know who it is. But apparently, he knows who you are. Well, almost everyone in this school does.

Kaiser's tone and expression quickly change to annoyance. "What do you want now?"

By now, the voice has turned out to belong to Isagi. He ran over to you and looks as if he's ready to fight Kaiser. "Leave them alone." He repeats while trying to push Kaiser away.

"Ugh." Kaiser rolls his eyes and takes a step back. "Come on Ness, we're leaving. My next class is about to start anyways." Ness quickly walks over to Kaiser and both of them are about to leave, but not before Kaiser turns around to face you and Isagi one last time. Although, he doesn't say anything. He just looks at you with the most condescening gaze he can do before he walks off.

"Are you alright?" Isagi wants to know as soon as the other two are gone. "Did he hurt you or anything?" The concern in his voice is genuinely surprising to you.

"No no, I'm alright. He just tried to talk me down." You let out a nervous laugh. "Thank you for your help, though."

A soft smile appears on Isagi's face before he continues talking. "No need to thank me, (Y/N). It's not like I could have left you with Kaiser like that."

You nod in response, but now you're about to get to the part of the conversation where everything gets awkward. There's nothing you have to say anymore and it'd be too weird to just walk away like that. But luckily, Isagi continues.

"Is it okay if I call you by your first name? Or would you rather be addressed with your last name?" It's clear that he feels a little bad for not asking about that earlier.

"(Y/N) is fine. Honestly it'd feel weird if you addressed me with my last name. You know, because of my dad ." You let out a short giggle, suddenly feeling more comfortable because of the care Isagi shows towards you.

"I already thought it would be like that, just wanted to make sure." Isagi stops talking for a moment, but you don't respond yet because he looks like he's trying to find the right words to continue.

"I always see you on your own. Do you not have any friends here?" He asks after a few moments.

You shake your head while another nervous laugh escapes you. "To be honest, no."

"Well, you look like you could need one." Isagi places his hand on your shoulder and looks right into your eyes. "How about I'll be your friend?"

In a matter of seconds, there's a bright smile on your face. "I'd love that."

Tagslist: @luvistarzx, @kaineedstherapy12, @zyuuuu, @youngstrawberry69, @yerinsshi - sign up for my taglist here!

[hb-writes]

Harvard-Educated Imbecile

Summary: When the Specter family's autumn plans get sidetracked by terrible weather, they try to have a nice family movie marathon instead. Heavy emphasis on 'try.'

Prompt: "I swear to god if you scare me while watching any of these movies I'll shove my foot up your ass."

Characters: Harvey Specter, Marcus Specter, Charlie Specter & Marcus's kids (Haley & Lucas)

Warnings: some cursing, lack of proof reading. 🙃

Harvey lounged on the couch by himself, the smell of cookies wafting in from the kitchen where Charlie was with their niece and nephew, their laughter and chatter coming and going as they got the movie snacks together, a job Harvey had been quick to decline. Harvey had been quick to say he wanted nothing to do with the preparation.

He took a sip of his nearly empty coffee as he waited now. He could use a refill before the movie started, but he was comfortable there with his legs stretched out over the ottoman. And maybe needing a refill was a good excuse to keep in his pocket, a convenient reason to leave the room mid-movie if need be…

Harvey rubbed at his eyes after setting aside his mug. Barely 10 am and they were preparing for a movie marathon. Harvey wasn’t sure how exactly he had ended up here. 

Well, logistically, he knew how he'd ended up here. Charlie and Harvey had driven in for some quality time with Marcus and his family. They were supposed to be taking his niece and nephew to some farm to pick pumpkins, get lost in a corn maze, and fall into an apple cider donut-induced sugar high, but the weather was shit. And the decision to forgo their plans in light of the frigid downpour that would likely turn to snow if it continued was unanimous. It was for that reason that Harvey was sitting on his brother’s couch in loungewear readying himself for a movie marathon.

A scary movie marathon, nonetheless. 

Harvey hadn’t watched a scary movie in years, though Charlie begged him to join her often enough, usually trying to goad him into it by employing each and every technique she’d learned from Marcus—a whole lot of teasing and name-calling, mostly. Most of it barely scratched the surface. Just about as effective as her pleading. Harvey was half-immune to his sister's tactics by practice, but he always declined those particular requests out of principle.

Scary movies weren't his thing. He'd warned her as much over a decade before when she first decided that she rather liked them. There was precious little that Harvey denied his sister, but this was one of them. And as far as Harvey was concerned, he wasn't really denying her anything anyway. Charlie had plenty of people willing to watch with her—Mike and Donna, or her school friends, or Marcus…and Marcus’s kids, apparently. She had plenty of fellow deranged wackos in her company, no need for him to join in.

And it was easy enough for Harvey to shut out her teasing because he knew these movies scared the shit out of her, too. Charlie always tried to act like she wasn't terrified, but Harvey hadn't ever missed that she was always jumpy after watching one. Always delaying her sleep and keeping the lights on. Distracting herself with watching something lighter than whatever horrors she'd just subjected herself to.

Her incessant goading and teasing was all a bluff. The girl was just as chicken shit as Harvey was. She just refused to accept it. Almost as if she thought she had to like the scary movies to prove something. Harvey wasn't quite sure what Charlie thought she was proving, and to whom she was proving it, but she'd committed to scary movies as if liking them was a right of passage. 

Maybe it was because Marcus liked them. Genuinely enjoyed them. Or maybe it was because of witnessing the teasing that Harvey endured at Marcus's hands, as if Charlie didn't want to be on the receiving end of it...but Marcus would never tease Charlie like he teased Harvey.

He had a feeling the teasing wouldn't land quite the same either because even though they all picked at each other, there was something different about what passed between Harvey and Marcus. The goading that came Harvey's way from Marcus was different. It nudged at something deep inside of him, some ancient brotherly competitiveness that would likely always be there. It was different from whatever the boys had with Charlie.

Harvey glanced up as his brother dropped a pile of blankets on the couch cushion beside him, picking up and tossing Haley's soft princess blanket at Harvey.

“Want a blankie to shield your precious eyes?”

Harvey rolled his eyes and Charlie snorted as she came into the room, easing a tray filled with the coffee carafe and several snacks onto the coffee table. 

Harvey gave his sister a pointed look before shifting his gaze to Marcus. “Keep talking like that and you’ll need something to shield yourself with while I kick your ass up and down the block.” 

Marcus grinned at his brother, a suggestive eyebrow raised. His lips remained closed even though each of his features asked Wanna go?

It had been years since the two of them went at it like that, but Harvey and Marcus maintained eye contact as if it was a real prospect now, the mere suggestion of it coating the air just as the scent of cookies did, strong enough that Charlie cleared her throat after a second.

“And you stay out of it," Harvey said, shooting her another glance, "unless you wanna go up and down the block, too."  

“I didn’t even say anything,” Charlie answered even though her mouth had already been poised to say something if the throat clearing didn't do the trick, the idea forming in her mind long before Harvey called her out.

It was always like this when the three of them were together, like a verbal sparring match of sorts. An unspoken competition, like the three of them were a bunch of kids. Worse than the actual kids—at least that’s what Marcus's wife liked to say. She had only been half-joking when she warned her husband and his siblings to behave themselves as she headed out the door to go to the office this morning, keen on finishing up whatever it was that couldn’t wait until Monday. 

“You were going to,” Harvey answered. “I could sense the sass on your tongue all the way over here.” 

Charlie smirked. “I think that’s actually cookie dough residue.” 

Harvey rolled his eyes. He wondered how many cookies the kids had actually gotten out of the dough Marcus had mixed together for them. Considering Charlie had been supervising, he imagined they’d all done more sampling of the raw dough than they had baking it. And considering the timer had gone off a few minutes before Charlie came in, and the cookies—along with his niece and nephew—had yet to appear, Harvey assumed that sampling was still happening now. 

“I think that sass on her tongue is a permanent affliction, isn’t it, Harvey?” Marcus asked. A smirk passed between the boys and Charlie felt the sudden shift in the teasing, sensing her brothers quickly aligning against her.

Harvey sighed, shaking his head. “You're right, Marcus. That is what all the doctors said. She's got a chronic condition.”

“Right,” Marcus said, giving his sister a sad, pitying smile. “I remember them saying we were better off just doing an extraction rather than hoping for a cure.” 

“Hilarious.” Charlie rolled her eyes as she shoved the blankets aside and settled into the spot beside Harvey, pushing against him as she tried to gain some purchase on the ottoman he was hogging. “You two are imbeciles.” 

“Yeah." Marcus chuckled, letting out a barking laugh. "I think our doctors may have said that, too."

“Speak for yourself, Marcus."

Harvey snorted as the kids came into the room and Haley set down a sparse plate of cookies while Lucas delivered a container of oreos to the coffee table. 

“You know Harvey’s a special, Marcus,” Charlie said as she tugged on the edge of Harvey’s princess blanket, pulling it over herself. “He’s one of those incredibly rare Harvard-educated imbe—”

Charlie let out a shout as Harvey locked her head in his arm and pulled her against his chest, messing with her hair as she scrambled, shouting and pushing to get away from him. The attack lasted only a few seconds before Haley pounced on Harvey’s lap, the loyal little girl’s hands working to free her favorite—and only—aunt. Harvey let the struggle go on for a few minutes, making a grand production out of finally releasing his grip on Charlie, a production that had Haley giggling in his lap as Marcus and Lucas looked on from a cushion away. 

Charlie shoved at Harvey as she flipped her messy hair back over her head. “You’re a jerk, a Harvard-educated—”

“You really want to go for round two?” Harvey asked as he tried to pull Charlie back into his side. “Maybe we’ll go through with extracting that tongue after all.”

Charlie shoved him away, pulling her legs off the ottoman and shifting closer to Marcus. "That's like the forth threat you've made this morning, Harvey. Maybe have another cup of coffee or something so you stop being such an a—"

“Maybe we should just start the movie,” Marcus interrupted, conscious of the little ears in the room, well-aware of the fact that his sister was about to provide an insult more far more colorful than imbecile.

Without further prompting, Lucas and Haley suddenly got up and scurried across the room to the windows, pulling the curtains shut, the room descending into a quick darkness. Haley and Lucas came back to the couch, squeezing in between Charlie and their father, forcing a begrudging Charlie back to Harvey’s side.

As everyone settled, Marcus pressed play and Harvey tilted his head towards Charlie's ear. "I swear to god if you scare me while watching any of these movies I'll shove my foot up your ass," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Charlie shoved him away, her hand against his cheek for only a moment before Harvey twisted out of her grasp, leaning forward to meet Lucas and Haley’s gaze, their eyes bright with laughter from what they'd already overheard. “And that goes extra for you two.” 

Both kids squealed with laughter. 

“Nice job, Uncle Harvey. Threatening a couple of defenseless kids because you’re afraid…” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “You do realize it’s just a Disney movie, right?”

Charlie snorted and Harvey glanced at the screen, catching the tail-end of the franchise’s famous intro, that classic castle on a field of blue. 

Harvey shrugged. “Yeah, well, they made some weird stuff in the 90’s.” 

Charlie pulled away to look at him. “How would you know? Weren’t you too busy studying to become a...” Harvey raised an eyebrow and Charlie hesitated for a quick second before deciding that whatever Harvey’s retribution was to be, it was well worth it. Some part of her decided she quite liked the ring of this new moniker. She liked it almost as much as she liked Harvey's clear annoyance with it and Charlie had a feeling she wouldn't stop using it any time soon.

“A Harvard-educated imbecile?” Charlie finished, squealing as Harvey’s fingers immediately dug into her side beneath the blanket. 

Marcus sighed, pausing the movie and sharing a look with his kids as Charlie started screaming and giggling. “You know, you two didn’t need to create this elaborate scheme to put off watching the movie. If you’re too chicken…”

Charlie caught Harvey’s hand at the same moment he slowed his attack, both of them turning their attention to Marcus at the mere insinuation that this had all been a carefully concocted ruse. Harvey pulled his hand free, reaching across Charlie, Lucas, and Haley to grab for the remote in Marcus's hand. Charlie wasted no time in settling back against the couch beside him. And Harvey swiftly pressed the play button, both of their eyes trained on the screen. 

“Imbeciles," Marcus muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

“What’s an imbecile?” Haley whispered a moment later, her version of the gesture loud enough that they all heard it.

A chorus of laughter erupted, interspersed with accusations of ‘he is’ and ‘she is’ from the lips of her aunt, uncle, and father before Luke leaned over to snatch the remote from his uncle's grasp.

"I swear to god,” he started, looking at the adults in the room as he paused the movie, "if you don’t be quiet, I'll shove my—”

“Lucas,” Marcus warned, shaking his head at his son. "Don't even think about it."

“Why not? Uncle Harvey just said it.” Luke said, his arm flying out to gesture toward his uncle.

Charlie hid half of her face under the blanket to hide her smile as Harvey smirked outright, ignoring Marcus's glare as Harvey leaned forward to grab a cookie.

"Because you can't say it. Let's just start the movie, alright?"

Luke huffed, settling his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the couch. Haley leaned toward her brother as their father fumbled with the remote.

"Maybe you can't copy Uncle Harvey because he's a Harvard-educated imbecile," she whispered.

Charlie and Marcus made eye contact over Lucas and Haley's heads, both of them dissolving into silent bouts of laughter.

Harvey swallowed the last bite of cookie, eyes narrowing at his siblings as they worked to contain their laughter, both of them violently shaking as they tried to hold it in. 

"Alright," Harvey said, reaching across Charlie to grab for the remote and pressing play. "Let's just start the damn movie." 

Suits (Lines to Live By) Masterlist

[waitineedaname]

Do u have any transfemme Jiang Cheng headcanons you’re willing to share 🥺 every time you bring it up it makes me unreasonably happy so I would love to hear more about it 🫶🫶

AHHHH no really major headcanons, it's just something I like to rotate in my mind a lot! transfemme jiang cheng is. so special to me. I guess I have a few thoughts

I think a big part of Jiang Cheng's relationship to gender comes from Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan being the models of masculinity and femininity growing up. Jiang Cheng already relates a Lot to Yu Ziyuan, and I think if JC is transfemme, it's a big deal to her that Yu Ziyuan wields so much power. She's an incredible cultivator, a fierce fighter, and generally is a force to be reckoned with. At the same time, she's still a woman living in a misogynistic society. YZY would probably make a better sect leader than JFM, but she's a woman and his wife, and therefore he gets the final say in things

This in turn I think affects Jiang Cheng's feelings about gender and being sect leader. Jiang Cheng has a tendency to prioritize sect concerns > personal desires, and I think in this situation, masculinity is seen as a tool. Even if she knows privately that she is a woman, she would not be public about it because she's already in a precarious position being such a young sect leader. She needs all the respect she can get when rebuilding the Jiang sect, so she stays in the closet by choice. She might eventually come out years and years later, once the Jiang sect is stable and she knows she's not going to get fucked over, but that's really not her first priority

I do think she tells her siblings, though. Jiang Yanli is probably the first person she tells, and she's endlessly supportive. Wei Wuxian is kind of clueless about this sort of thing (see: not realizing he liked men until he got resurrected into the body of a gay man) but he loves Jiang Cheng so he'd be supportive, especially if he learned when they were both still kids. Of course, this makes the tragedy of Jiang Cheng losing everyone even worse. After her siblings died, there was no one who knew who she really was. Thank god for resurrections, huh? fucking hell

in a modern au, I think being a woman would fix her. She would be able to come out without all the other bullshit to worry about, and I think it would be very healing for her. I've known a number of people to go on estrogen who said the effects were more emotional than physical, and I think HRT would be so good for her. I just need Jiang Cheng to be happy goddammit. has she not been through enough

that got long. I guess I had more thoughts than I expected lsdkjflksdjf I also have a snippet from a modern au wip that I don't know if I'll ever continue/finish, but I'll put it under a read more bc I find it funny. I think Wen Qing should crack Jiang Cheng's egg, as a treat <3

Wen Qing knew Jiang Cheng too well. It was something he both loved and hated. There were very few people outside his family that could see through his blustering and read him for who he was, and Wen Qing was one of them. Hell, she was better at it than his own brother.

She didn't hesitate to call him on it either. He wouldn't be forgetting the way she'd looked at him after he introduced her to his parents and told him this explains a lot about you. Rude. Correct, but rude.

Because she knew him so well, she knew the best times to drop these bombs on him. Exposing him when he was in the wrong mood might make his temper flare, or it might make him curl into an insecure ball. Neither were reactions he liked having around her.

Wen Qing knew the best time to drop revelations on him was when he was happy and as close to relaxed as he could get, which is of course why she apparently decided the best time to bring up this particular bombshell was when he was floating in postcoital bliss.

“I'm going to tell you something,” Wen Qing said, her ankle still hooked gently around his calf. “You can't freak out about it.”

Jiang Cheng paused in the middle of pressing lazy kisses to her temple, heart rate immediately spiking. “Now?” he said, incredulous and a little whiny. 

“It's not a bad thing,” she reassured him, gently scratching his scalp. It relaxed him like a charm, though he was still suspicious. “Do you promise to listen?”

“Do I have much of a choice?” he asked, propping himself up on her chest. Her lips quirked in a smile as she looked down at him.

“I think you're a woman,” she said, direct and matter-of-fact.

Jiang Cheng jolted upright so hard he slammed his head into the headboard. Wen Qing frowned and sat up as he rolled off her. “You're going to give yourself a concussion,” she said, accusatory.

“You're insane!” Jiang Cheng said, attempting to sit upright without making his head swim. Wen Qing huffed and pushed him down with a firm hand to his chest. He could throw her off if he wanted to, but, well, he didn't want to. He rather liked it when she pushed him around and climbed on top of him like she was right now, pinning him in place and preventing him from running away from the conversation.

[maxxmakes]

About the one time Error met Dream long enough to talk.

A short fic, set in Yet Another Battle's pre-fic world.

Error and Dream need to stop meeting like this.

Not ship whatsoever. Also, remember that Dream and Error's opinions are entirely biased. Some may argue that Ink's actions were justified considering Error's own actions.

Error laid on his side, looking bored as hell, staring straight ahead.

Ink had apparently "caught" him earlier, using creator-knows-what secret technique, tied him all up in black painted-on tape, and was called up in whatever other universe he was needed in. Of course, he'd hopped by the universe Dream was in, gave him a key and asked the star Sanses' golden boy to come look over his captive for him.

Unfortunately for Dream, he was interrupted mid-dinner, and had to excuse himself from Blue's company, who laughed and told him to take some food along as he went. So, here he was now, uncomfortable, staring at a man who was resolutely not staring back.

"WhY aRE yOu HerE.", he said, and it was almost like he was disappointed Ink wasn't here himself. Dream actually didn't really know what to answer to that.

"Uh...I guess because Ink asked me to?"

Those heterochromic eyes narrowed at nothing, and Error gave one of those mocking-yet-oddly-shaky grins only he could pull off.

"VoiD DAMn. InK MaKEs ChiLDren dO HiS DIrTY worK, nOw?"

"Wh- I'm not a child. I've just got....young-looking bones."

"AnD I'M a GOd. To EAch THeIr sTRUgGle."

In anyone else's mouth, that would've sounded like a joke, but Dream knew better. Error only joked around when he felt the need to throw witty one-liners at Ink during battle. He usually didn't even talk to the rest of them, just levelled a glare at them like they weren't even worth the effort of fighting them.

He gave a "tssk", and struggled (kind of like a worm, which was funny but Dream didn't laugh) to sit up.

"So. WhAT doEs He WAnT ThiS TimE?", Error asked, face straight, unbothered. "tO kILl Me?"

Dream sputtered in surprise, shaken by the very notion.

"What! of course not, we don't--we don't kill--!" The word even felt foreign on his tongue, and Dream couldn't help himself but to sadden. Of course Error would expect to be killed. He'd done so much evil himself, too.

What would be the alternative, though? To keep him like this, locked up, prisoner of a small room in Ink's currently chosen home? Forever? That was a fate Dream didn't even want to imagine, his compassionate soul whimpering a complaint at the mere notion. He shook his head, as Error continued.

"iT WouLDn'T BE thE FirST tIMe.", he said, detachedly, as though he'd watched that particular episode of his life on a TV. just, simply, a telenovella episode, with a gruesome end and more magic-blood budget than a stephen king movie adaptation. Dream choked on his words, plate sliding out of his grasp to tumble on the floor, smashing on impact.

But that...that didn't make any sense, did it?

Error narrowed his eyes, grinning. Guess the apple kid didn't exactly hear that part of the story.

....Ink did mention to Dream that Error was immortal, before. How would he have found out, if not by....trying? Eyeing the shattered plate, Error inched ever so closer to Dream (though he abhorred the thought of being even close.)

"guESs He dIDn'T TeLL yOu. YoU'Ve sEEn hOw HE geTS wiTh REd PaiNT?"

"yes, but! he wouldn't hurt anyone. Not really,", Dream insisted, tightening his empty hands and digging his fingertips into the soft fabric of his gloves. "Never enough to kill. Besides, you're still alive right now."

"I alREadY KnEw I CoULdn'T DiE PRoPERly. He DIdn'T. I brOKe His BrUSh, hE doWNed tHE boTTle."

Error, ever the smart cookie, set his hands on the ground. Hanging on his every words, Dream didn't exactly notice a piece of ceramic vanish into his palms.

"SmAShED mY fuCKiNG hEAd iN WiTH a ROck."

Color drained from Dream. He looked shocked, and utterly disgusted by the idea of such a thing happening. Well, Error could understand that, kind of. Dream had always held Ink in much too high a regard.

"He wouldn't," he insisted with a half-voice.

"iT DOesN't MAttEr wHAt yoU ThInK He wOUld anD WOulDN'T DO. You'Re a PAwn AnYwAYS. He dOEsn'T LOve YOu."

"No....no, you're wrong. It can't possibly--"

Dream never had a chance to finish his sentence, as blue strings erupted from Error's newly freed hands to loop around Dream. Error snickered as he left, leaving Dream tied up just like he was (after, of course, calling him a sucker and an idiot.) The problem being- Dream knew that if Ink remembered, he'd feel bad. But did Ink even apologize for that? Was there a universe where I'm sorry would fix this? Dream, slowly but surely- began doubting the skeleton who he thought was a hero. It didn't even matter if Error lied.

Thinking in absolutes was the one thing that would lead to Dream's downfall, eventually.

[uhgood-girl]

i haven't had a chance to fully form this thought yet so bear with me while i explore my own brain but my immediate response to this is i think two things can be true at the same time.

this is me playing devil's advocate with both you and myself, tbh. if you do not enjoy borderline pedantic over thinking, i recommend you turn back now.

i watched the entirety of standing next to you with my jaw on the floor. beyond seeing jk in what i would consider to be the epitome of his element, the arrival of all that experience and hard work and raw talent finely honed, culminating in the absolute pop perfection that is both that song and performance... well, i've made a joke on here before about my brains inability at this stage to not insert jikook into things. i could maybe help it if i wanted to (i can stop at anytime, says the alcoholic 🥴) but i don't want to because i'm having fun and i've made friends with the brain worms. they're my brain worms, who are you take them from me.

i have also mentioned jikook being it's own form of pattern recognition drug for mine, obviously, and probably other's more neuro-spicy tendencies. once you have seen and unlocked the code, it's really hard to turn the goggles off.

so let's talk about patterns. what is a pattern? a pattern is lmao no, i'm kidding, i don't think i need to define this for you but i guess when i say pattern here i'm referring to what a lot of people often call coincidences. (have i lost you already bc of this word? i know people throw it around often here, but again, bear with me) coincidences can become patterns if they repeat enough. how many coincidences does it take to form a pattern? three, i believe, is the universally accepted number but that feels so small when i type it out, much less think about it, tbh. but i suppose in the discourse of coincidences, something that reoccurs without apparent connection, (traveling strangers who keep ending up in the same cities together, you and your friend always texting each other at the exact same time, two people in a band who keep mysteriously referencing things that connect them in a particular sort of light) bc of the unlikelieness of their serendipitous nature, it makes more sense. and because i want to discuss this in a more tangible form and i believe humans to be meddling by nature, i think coincidences become patterns, beyond the number three, when intent enters the equation.

was that a very long way to say that despite the fact that jk didn't write any of the lyrics himself and is quoted in the article above as telling people to not take things too literally that i'm still going to intuit some autobiographical meaning from them? well, yes. i guess so. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

because ✨context✨(glass closet and comp het in particular). a context that i fully admit i am abscribing to the situation myself but if you're reading this i assume you're already in this boat with me, it's your context too, at least tangentially (GUILTY, your honor) by association. the entirety of any jikook argument has to exist in this space and to have gotten here at all required taking some liberties, a certain reading between the lines that is a tightrope of wanting to respect what someone says outloud and at face value while being aware few things are ever black and white (minus the infamous couple in question bah bum tiss 🥁).

if it feels different to you bc it's something he explicity expressed, that's totally fair. i've been back and forth about it a few times myself and maybe i'll feel differently tomorrow. but rn, this is where i'm at and this is all just spitballing at the end of the day, no?

in an attempt to not be accused of only picking and choosing the lyrics that suit my (gay) agenda, it feels worth pointing out that the lines i find applicable to jikook are not literal. as in while i fully believe jk could probably do anything he set his big, beautiful heart out to do, leaving someone's body golden like the sun and moon is unlikely. ( the jikook relevance is in it's choice, why that particular metaphor) and despite being more in the realm of possibility, i don't really believe he's fucking seven days a week either. his agreeance to the use of female pronouns in some songs and even the women in his music videos are a. the comp het standard for this worldwide pop boy takeover (inarguably) and b. don't automatically negate any potential underlying queerness of the artist himself. so when he sings she (is there even anything in the lyrics beyond the pronoun itself that could only refer to a cis woman? hell, does "she" only have to refer to a cis woman in this day and age? jimin is v in touch with his anima these days, don't kink shame :P) I'm taking that as an artistic liberty the same way I'm taking something like it's deeper than the rain. and the latter rain line only stands out to me because, again, broader context.

he didn't write any of the song lyrics but he was there for every step of the production and still approved what actually made it on to the album. he didn't write there for you, the song in gcf tokyo either but i dare you to go find a jikook argument about that video that doesn't list that song and its lyrics as evidence. he didn't write them but it's definitely something he cares about and is very aware of. i doubt anything was chosen without some degree of thought. which brings us full circle back to coincidences vs patterns and intent.

do i think the lyrics a lot of us collectively recognized as jikook coded, even if you respectfully don't want to read that far into it, were a coincidence this late in the game? ain't no way lmao. our jikook roads are paved with these sort of "coincidences." you think they weren't apart of the appeal? helped boost it right to main track status? maybe if it had just been the lyrics, without any of the imagery in the video (i would love to know how much creative direction he had here too, i hope we find out) to back it up, but between that not straight red line of fate, the black swan like wings, the dancing in front of the sun painting, the two households, both alike in dignity, in fair verona where we lay our scene aka the forbidden love vibes, etc. - it's too much for this sad little hyper-fixated romantic queer, personally lol.

so, i think two things can be true at the same time! i'm sure a lot of the songs and their implications have no autobiographical meaning to them beyond a universally relatable conversation and narrative about love, i do believe him. i think based on all the responses and feedback his first releases got, making a statement such as the one in the article was a good? pr move if nothing else too and definitely in line with what we have come to expect around an industry that bts is both sort of moving away from but still restricted by at this stage. if you've read any of my other ramblings so far on this site, you'll know i operate from a place of the more smoke screen around all this (this being a potential romantic relationship between jikook) the better, bc at the end of the day i want all of bts more than anything safe, happy, and free to pursue whatever creative fancy they can dream. them building a level of plausible deniability into this sort of stuff protects them. i will remain a broken record on that point.

but bc of the larger context of jikook as a whole and my belief that jk is both clever and also a romantic at heart, i'm going to take these crumbs and go. 🚗💨 i'm not in any sort of who can be the more superior, rational delulu competition, we're all in our own little clown cars no matter your chosen dressings until proven otherwise. that's the nature of this whole shebang, bby. 🤠👉👉

def feel free to come respectfully argue with me though, i'm never here to convince anyone but i enjoy these conversations and i love other people's perspective. are you ignoring the standing next to you jikook bait?

[josefavomjaaga]

Hii, I have heard Eugene initially disliked his stepfather. It sounds interesting since I love the beautiful father-son bond of napoleon and his stepson. Is it true that Eugene initially didn't like his stepfather? Was it just a part of grieving for his own father, Alexander, or was it because Napoleon initially acted a certain way that hurt Eugene.

Hi and thank you for the Ask! As I’m feeling particularly lazy today, I thought it would be easiest to let Eugène answer himself. This is translated from his memoirs:

I must say that, a few months later, we realised that General Bonaparte might want to unite his destiny with that of our mother, and all the splendour that has since surrounded Napoleon, then General Bonaparte, has not made me forget the pain I felt when I saw my mother resolved to form new ties. It seemed to me that a second marriage, whatever it was, was a profanation, an attack on the memory of my father. General Bonaparte, who was already a regular visitor to the house, took an interest in everything that went on there, and did not disdain to devote himself, with particular care, to the education of two children whose mother he soon hoped to marry; but they were aware of the reluctance we had already shown, my sister and I, for my mother to marry again, and they used the need for both of us to complete our education as an excuse to place us in two boarding schools in Saint-Germain. It was not long before we learnt at once of my mother's marriage to General Bonaparte, of his appointment as commander of the army of Italy, and finally of my mother's imminent departure to follow her husband. All this news would have pleased me very little if General Bonaparte, on leaving for Italy, had not given me a glimpse of a very flattering consolation: he promised to call me to his side as soon as, through assiduous and successful work, I had made up for the time that circumstances had caused me to lose.

So, apparently Eugène and Hortense had shown their dislike for this second marriage openly enough for Napoleon and Josephine not wanting to have them around for the wedding. Which is … yeah. Not particularly considerate. Presumably, this had hurt Eugène more than he lets show in his memoirs. I surely would not want to learn about my mother having married from my school principal (according to Hortense, she was called to Madame Campan’s office, and Madame Campan then carefully broke the news). I’d argue this was not the best start.

But let’s not forget that this is Eugène’s own POV. As he admits himself in the next paragraph, his education had indeed been much neglected (he had already been pushed from pillar to post even before the Revolution after his parents’ separation). The kids being sent back to school may have been more than just an excuse to have them out of the way for Napoleon and Josephine’s marriage.

As to the reasons why the kids were set against their mother remarrying, Eugène cites the memory of his father, in whose care he had grown up and whom he probably had a much closer personal relationship with than his sister. He also may have understood much more than Hortense about the ugly scenes that had happened when his parents had separated, so his mother remarrying may have felt to him as if Rose-Josephine now completely gave up on Alexandre, as if she ultimately declared that her first marriage had been a mistake.

But most of all, I think the children felt abandonned. After all, not even two years earlier, they had woken up one morning to learn that their mother had been taken to prison during the night. Françoise de Bernardy thinks that the letters the kids wrote home from their boarding schools often feel as if they were very protective of their mother, almost as if they had been the adults and Josephine the child. All their childhood had been turmoil. Their mother was the only thing left they could cling to.

But both children were, as a rule, docile and well-behaved, and especially Eugène had this innate desire to please, to be loved, and to win the appreciation of whatever father figure was available in his life at any given time. So it would not take long for Napoleon to win them over. We do not have any letters from Eugène to Napoleon from this time, afaik, we only know he wrote because Napoleon mentions it. We do have a letter from Napoleon to Hortense, in reply to a somewhat defiant letter she had sent. Presumably, Hortense, being younger and closer to her mother, had been more hostile than her brother. But I doubt she would have expressed her feelings too openly; Madame Campan would have taken care of that.

I also always feel like I have to add a bit of a caveat with regards to Eugène’s and Napoleon’s relationship. Yes, I would argue this was most likely the closest thing to a father-son-relationship Napoleon ever experienced during his life. But it always remained at a certain distance. Napoleon called Eugène tu in private, obviously, but in letters and later at court it’s always vous. And while we have multiple remarks of "paternal love" and "filial devotion" etc in their correspondence, I yet have to find a single instance of Eugène referring to Napoleon as a father. Even in letters to his mother and sister he speaks of either "Bonaparte" or later "the emperor". Napoleon does of course call Eugène his son in every letter since the adoption. But this is first and foremost a formality; prince Karl von Baden who had married Napoleon’s adopted daughter Stéphanie de Beauharnais is adressed as "mon fils" just like Eugène.

Aaaand considering that I only wanted to quote Eugène, this has gotten unbearably long once again. Sorry for that 😚. I always get so excited whenever somebody shows an interest in the boy.

Thanks for the Ask, I hope this was helpful!

[starwarsmum]

Day 9 of the Maribat BioFamily September prompts! This one is Ransom 😊

@maribat-calendar-events

Marinette thought that the universe was being pretty unfair. It wasn't like she had been walking around Gotham, alone, and talking to anyone and everyone she came across. Well, okay, maybe it was a little like that, but she was Parisian and she believed that a little kindness went a long way, so she wasn't going to ignore the people she interacted with. 

And she was meant to be meeting up with Steph, but she had received a text to say she was running a little late because of a bank robbery so she didn't have a choice but to wait. The fact that she had headed to a coffee shop for a quick boost should be seen as responsible - she knew she would be struggling after staying up too late, so she went to get caffeine to keep herself alert! 

She just should not be blamed for the fact that Mr Freeze decided that particular coffee shop to come to. Hell, even villains need a caffeine fix, right? But apparently her picture had been making the rounds in Gotham because he had taken one look at her and recognised this as his next chance to extort a billionaire. 

“Listen, you know I'm not, like, Bruce Wayne's kid, right?” Marinette said, fiddling with the ropes that was binding her wrists. She had definitely turned on the tiny foreign kid act, flinching whenever one of the goons came near her, so they had tied her up much more loosely than they should have. She had already succeeded in freeing her hands and was rolling the rope to use later.

“But you are connected to them, are you not,” Freeze said, and Marinette couldn't think of a way to refute it without lying. He took her silence as acquiescence and decided he was safe to monologue. “Do not worry, child, as long as Mr Wayne pays me for your safety, you will be returned unharmed.”

“And if he doesn't?” She asked quietly, injecting a little fear into her voice. She was silently undoing the (admittedly loose enough to walk) rope around her feet, leaving it looped around them so that if he turned around all would seem the same. He didn't.

“You will still remain unharmed, but I cannot allow you to go home,” he said, and Marinette relaxed minutely, until he continued. “Perhaps you would do nicely in a cryotank, like my darling wife.”

She decided that she didn't have time to wait for someone else to come and save her. She waited a handful of minutes before asking in the most frightened voice she could for the bathroom. The villain grunted at the henchman standing closest to her and he hauled her to her feet. She made sure to shuffle as though still bound even though the rope had vanished into her hands as she stood.

As soon as they were out of sight of the others, Marinette span on her heel and slammed her fist into her guard's solar plexus. As he doubled over, gasping for breath, she slipped an arm around his neck and tightened into a stranglehold. The combination of her two attacks meant he put up very little resistance and she was soon a free agent. 

She took a moment to activate the homing beacon in her shoe’s sole before weighing the ropes in her hands. Her mind whirring as she thought about the room she had just left, she tied a knot in the end of the longer rope and swung it around experimentally. Pleased at the weight, she dragged the thug she had knocked out into a hidden corner and got to work.

_ _ _

When Marinette's beacon activated, Damian had been doing a workout in the cave. When he heard the alarm blare, he assumed Tim had been half asleep at a coffee shop and picked up by the Riddler or Scarecrow again. Honestly, the man was only slightly bigger than Damian and quite clearly an easy target.

The moment he saw that Marinette had activated her beacon, he felt an icy calm settle over him. He hardly remembered suiting up but he could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage as he shot along the streets on the R-Cycle. The warehouse that she was apparently held captive in was quiet, which instantly made him panic.

He didn't wait for backup, merely grappled onto the roof to see if he could find a discreet way into the building. When he slunk in through a skylight, he felt relief wash over him as he saw Marinette, standing unharmed in the centre of the room. He dropped silently into the room, approaching her with caution, and finally caught what she was saying.

“...unhealthy. I didn't stand for it when Hawkmoth tried to excuse his behaviour as ‘love for a comatose wife', and I won't stand for it here. If she's sick, she should be in a hospital. The world is made of both creation and destruction, what you are doing flies directly in the face of it,” she ranted, hands on her hips.

Damian finished his approach and placed a hand into Marinette's shoulder, meaning to convince her to leave. But he should have announced who it was because no sooner had his hand made contact with her shirt than she had stepped backwards and executed a half turn that ended with him on the floor.

“Da- Robin, what are you doing here?” She shrieked, dropping the arm she was gripping to allow him to get back up. He glanced towards Mr Freeze, who was sitting on the floor, his cold suit unmoving. Whatever Marinette had done to him, he wasn't going anywhere until someone moved him.

“We were alerted to an abduction,” Damian said, tone amused now that he knew she was okay. She gave him a sheepish smile and he resisted the urge to pull her close. “Did one of my associates already come by and free you?”

“Oh, um, maybe?” She replied, grinning cheekily up at him. He bit back an exasperated sigh and called for backup, wondering how on earth they would explain it if word got out that the newest Wayne associate had freed themselves from a kidnapping.

“How did you get caught up in this mess?” He asked eventually once Red Hood had appeared to drag Freeze away. As she recounted her tale, he couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. He tried to explain himself before she became annoyed, but he could see the frown line in her brow. “It is just that Drake is often abducted from coffee shops and held for ransom - I did not realise it was a genetic trait.”