#this is just an excuse for fighty boys

[supurman]

[ from supercopy ] : “ you have no idea what it’s like to be me, superman ! no idea what it’s like to try to fit into your shadow ! ” embarrassed by being yanked away from his friends and teammates like a naughty child, superboy radiates disdained heat. kon is a member of young justice on official young justice business— while the mission had gone awry ( which he’s sure robin will express to everyone during debrief later ), ONLY kon’s mentor ( and dad ) showed up to proverbially pull him aside by his ear in response to some reckless tactile telekinesis use against today’s enemies. wrathful tears dampen eyes as blue as clark’s. “ i didn��t do anything wrong ! ” ( except he knows excessive force is wrong ) “ i’m tired of you expecting me to act just like you did when you were my age. ”

it had only been a few months now since young justice has become official. a band of teens with their own amazing powers. and one of them was all clark's responsibility. his own son, kon a fighty one at that. a teenager with emotions that often lead him astray. he loved so much, but didn't know how to control it. so loyal to his friends, he was often easily hurt. and so sensitive to any disturbances of his friends that it set him off like a live wire. this is what superman has been dealing with for some months now. it wasn't the child's fault. it was clarks [...] had he not let him be under the grim hand of lex for so long  or had let him live his own life as a 14 year old boy in hawai'i … he would be much sounder of mind. happier.

however... not every wrong act can be answered with kind words and pats of affection. sometimes the brakes had to be slammed and the firm deep fatherly tone clark's father once used on him needed to seek his own new son. his use of his TTK was excessive. the crack in the concrete from it could still be seen. the shattering from its impact had shot its way through the ground to the base of a crane. if clark had not come in time who knows what it would of feel through with the skyscraper sized iron bar it was holding on its wire.

once the situation was over the elder super snatched his child into the air. not it was just them now. kon knew where this lead - it was in the way his fathers fist were clench, how sharp his eye was, and the pose of his flight. ❝ now what has gotten into your, conner ? " the human name comes out. it was serious now. ❝ you could of killed someone innocent let alone the criminals themselves. thats not what us el's do. ❞ clarks voice was edged and sharpened in disappointment. lives at risk were no excuse.  

“ i didn’t do anything wrong ! ” @supercopy shouts.

the father turns to look at the kid-super whilst in the sky. the suddenness of it cast his red cape to the side. ❝ yes, you did conner ! don’t act like you didnt ! ❞ a shout. its loud. its too demanding. abruptly clark's tightened palm loosens where they were.. the truly sees kon's face now. the tears that hold onto his very same eyes which clark has. he sees himself now in pain. ❝ i... wait kon. its not LIKE that . ❞ the edge in his tone is shaved with the sandpaper of guilt. uncertainty were in the feathers of his words. being a father [...] it was not easy. being a father of someone he had let down so far.. even worse. he was lucky that kon even let him truly take him in.

the fury of kon is still whipping at clark whether the child continues lashing out or not. its a hot wall that kon uses to defend himself. and tears that reveal a somber, softer underbelly of pain. he was just a juvenile lion trying to keep a king at bay thats what it seemed. and clark should never make it seem that way. though in superman's own chest there is embers of anger, there is something else found within. the ability to recognize another's plight. ( clark, if your legacy was the world kon should not be forced to be atlas ).

a hiss of air came from his lips as his eyes pinched. his curl tosses where he shakes his head. what kon did [...] it was still wrong. but clark needed to take a step back. he was a kid once who made mistakes as well - he was just lucky those mistakes could be made a farm until he became a young man. kon was bound to make mistakes. blue eyes are revealed from long lashes once again looking at kon. his son's eyes still look at him with ire, smallness, and sharply. partially : clark deserved that.

❝ kon. i'm sorry. listen. i shouldn't have yelled at you like that. but what you did... it was still too much. ❞

another hiss of breath from the bass of his timbre. his lip purses ❝ you wear this symbol now. youre part of a family first before youre a super. its the house of el, not the super symbol. kon i know what i am in the world is a heavy burden that is suffocating you [...] i shouldn't be wanting you to be what i am and expecting no mistakes. i made my own.. and you will too. but still, you got to listen to me when I say that was too much. im trying to help. i know what its like to have these powers at be a kid. no one else knows what you're going through like i would. if we don't start seeing eye to eye [ ... ] then i don't know what i'll do with myself. i really love you and just want to lead you the path my parents led me. ❞

[feelingfredly]

Tea for Three?

Part 3 of the Better Living Through Chemistry series

Grimmjow was a surprisingly good companion—Ichigo refused to call him a date, no matter what Nelliel said—the only problem was his enthusiasm.

And his ego.

Oh, and don’t forget the fact that he constantly forgot they were surrounded by humans.

Okay, he was a horrible date, but it was still good to not be the only one in the audience looking at the kickboxing “experts” and thinking they’d last about a minute and a half in a real fight.

“Sit down, you idiot,” Ichigo hissed, for what seemed like the fiftieth time. “I told you, they don’t take challengers.  Anyway, you’re in a fucking gigai.   What makes you think you could take them anyway?”

Grimmjow growled and dropped back onto the bench. “I could take that asshole in the black with my teeth. I can smell his fear from here.” He pulled his lips back in a feral grin and Ichigo had to admit, they were impressive teeth for a gigai.   Kisuke’d even let him keep the almost-fangs. “Everything he does is for show and then he runs away where the other guy can’t hit him.  Fucking coward.”

Ichigo made a noise that could have been agreement.  “The guy in white has great range, though.  I thought he was going to pull the guy over completely when he grabbed that last kick. Good leverage.”

Grimmjow grunted. “Should’ve just broken his ankle.  Gloves are for weaklings.”

Ichigo didn’t argue.

They sat like that, alternating between hunched forward staring intently and throwing themselves back in their seats in frustration as the fights went on, until neither of them could stand it anymore.

“Race you to the training grounds at the shōten.”

The almost-fangs shone in a blood-thirsty answer. “Thought you’d never ask.”

***

They trash talked as they raced through the streets of Karakura and Ichigo had to fight Zangetsu down more than once, his inner hollow feeding on the aggression.

“Aw, is the Baby Hollow giving you a hard time, Kurosaki?” Grimmjow laughed at the glimmer of gold that Ichigo knew was edging the brown of his eyes.

“Fuck you, Grimm,” he said, tripping the taller man as they turned the last corner before the straightaway towards the shōten. “Zan would wipe the floor with you, gigai or not.”

He could hear the crazy laugh in his inner world and growled internally. Don’t get any ideas. Grimm is MY fight.

Zangetsu giggled again. Sure, King. Fight. Right. Say it a little louder and maybe you’ll believe that’s all he is.

Ichigo frowned and ignored the taunt.  Zan had jabbed at him more than once about the time he spent with Grimmjow, whether they were arguing or sparring or trying to sort out what exactly was going to happen now that Aizen wasn’t running Hueco Mundo. If he didn’t know better, he’d say the white bastard was jealous. And Kisuke was no help.  He just smiled and said that it made sense for Zan to want to prove his dominance over the nearest hollow, and if Ichigo was going to continue spending time with Grimmjow, he should either get used to his inner world being a constant snarkfest, or give in and let Zan have it out with Grimm once and for all.

That sounded like a recipe for disaster of absolutely Kisuke proportions.

“Cheating bastard.” Grimmjow laughed and scrambled to his feet so fast it was as if he’d never lost his balance. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Kurosaki.”

“You have no idea what I have in me,” Ichigo said, throwing himself forward at full speed.  Even in his human form he could feel his reiatsu humming along his skin, and he couldn’t wait to hit the training ground to beat Grimmjow and Zangetsu both back into line.

They hit the door of the shōten at almost the same time, but Ichigo had the edge of familiarity and he had the door in his hand before Grimmjow could grab it. “Beat you, Grimm.”

Grimmjow snorted and leaned against the wall, the only sign of their hell-for-leather race being his breathing a little more heavily than usual. “What was that? You wanted to use all that practice you’ve gotten beating off, eh, Kurosaki? Why didn’t you just say so? Didn’t have to…”

“Shut it, asshole,” Ichigo slammed the door, just missing Grimmjow’s foot, “save it for downstairs.”

Just then Kisuke wandered out of his lab, hair mussed like he’d been running his fingers through it. “Grimmjow-san! Ichigo-kun! Welcome back! I didn’t expect to see you so early. I take it the kickboxing tournament failed to hold your attentions?”

Grimmjow pushed off the wall and sauntered across the room. “Tournament? Bunch of losers you mean.  One adjuchas could’ve kicked all ten of their asses, and then eaten the damn trophy at the end. Right, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo hated to agree with him, but he wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah. It was a little frustrating, honestly.  Too much padding.  Too many rules.  Made us want a real fight.  I thought we’d use the training ground and burn off some steam before Grimm headed back to Hueco Mundo.”

Kisuke looked from one to the other and then shook his head a little apologetically. “Oh, but Ichigo-kun, don’t you remember?  The experiment I’ve been working on is finally ready, and you promised to help me test it this evening.  I’d say that it could wait, but unfortunately the compounds in this batch are quite volatile.”

Ichigo groaned.   Right now, the last thing he wanted was to do another one of Kisuke’s tea drugging experiments, but he couldn’t back out.  Kisuke’d been working on this one for three weeks.

“I’d totally forgotten.  Crap. Sorry Grimm, but I’m going to have to take a raincheck on the fight.”

Grimmjow wasn’t having it. “What the fuck is so important that it can’t wait until I’ve kicked your ass around a little?  We weren’t even going to be back for another hour, and it won’t take me that long to beat you into a bloody pulp.  Then the mad scientist over here can use what’s left for his experiments.  Win/win. Everybody’s happy.”

Zangetsu hissed in the corner of his brain. Let me kick his big blue ass, King.  I’ll take him apart until he’s nothing but little pieces that Kisuke can let Benihime practice sewing on. Fucking prick.  All talk.  Let’s fuck him up so badly that you’ll have to throw him through the garganta back to Hueco Mundo.

Ichigo knew from the look on Kisuke’s face that Zan had taken enough of a hold on him that his eyes were bleeding to gold.  Fuck, this wasn’t what he’d planned for this evening.

“Grimmjow-san, I am sorry to say that the bloody pulp would not be sufficient for my experiments,” Kisuke gave a little bow, “although I appreciate your willingness to adapt your plans to suit mine. For this experiment, though, I need Ichigo-kun at his strongest.  He will have to be to deal with the effects of the tea.”

A blue eyebrow rose. “Tea?” The disbelief was palpable. “Is this one of those tea drugging things Kurosaki was whining about a couple weeks ago?  I mean what?  You made him throw up for a couple hours.  Surely that isn’t something that he’d have to be in top form.   Or are you going to actually poison him for real this time?”

Ichigo shoved him.  Hard.  The bastard barely moved, though, and that just pissed him off more. “If Kisuke says I have to be in top form, then I have to be in top form.  You’re just lucky you’re not the one getting dosed.  You’d probably be crying in a corner like a kitten when it was over.  Asshole.”

Grimmjow stepped into him, forcing him to look up to meet his eyes. “Anything you can take, Kurosaki, I can take twice over.  Fucking drugged tea.  Give me a break.  He’s probably going to dose you with a sleeping pill so he can finally have a quiet night without listening to you whine.”

Kisuke stepped forward. “Boys, boys, calm down.”  He raised his hands placatingly. “I’d really rather not have to close the shop because you two ripped the displays apart.  Again.”

The two of them separated looking a little sheepish.  Well, Ichigo looked sheepish.  Grimmjow just looked pissed.

“Grimmjow-san, coincidentally enough, you might find the experiment interesting after all.  It was, in fact, designed to interact with Zangetsu-san, so it should, in fact, affect you as well.”

Broad shoulders rolled back at the challenge couched in Kisuke’s voice. “If the white punk could take it, then I can.”

Gray eyes turned to Ichigo and a blond brow rose in silent query.  The penny dropped, and Ichigo remembered what Kisuke had told him about this particular experiment.

 Hollows, no matter how evolved, whether they’re like Zangetsu-san or the Arrancar, are more driven by instinct than humans or Shinigami or Quincies.  At the bottom of every interaction you will find one of the major impetuses—fight, flight, or, to be blunt, fuck.  Most of them revert to flight.  The stronger ones fight.  Very few fuck.  What if we could find a formula that would change that? It would be much easier to kill a hollow that’s trying to chase an orgasm than one that’s trying to kill you, ne?

At the time it had sounded impossible and insane, but honestly many of Kisuke’s best/worst ideas started that way. And now… he’d done it. Or he’d gotten close enough that he wanted to try it on Zan and he didn’t think it would do any lasting damage if it didn’t work.

Zan’s wild laughter had quieted, but the anger still simmered deep inside and Ichigo wondered what the hollow would be like if he was just horny instead of murderous all the time.

What would Grimmjow be like?

That was what Kisuke was asking, wasn’t it?  Did Ichigo want to include Grimm in this mad trial? What would the brutal attention he brought to his fights be like if it was turned into sex? Did Ichigo want to bring that into their lives?  Into their bedroom?

“Two test cases are always better data sources than one, Ichigo-kun.”  A sly smirk spread across Kisuke’s face and Ichigo could feel a flush begin to crawl up his neck and across his cheekbones as his jeans became just a little tighter.

“Fuck it.  Bring on the tea, Kisuke,” he said, flinging himself onto the cushions by the low table in the lounge. “First one to cry uncle loses.”

***

“Now, Grimmjow-san,” Kisuke had brewed two cups of his best matcha and set them in front of Ichigo along with two glass vials filled with dark amber liquid, “normally I wouldn’t inform you of the expected effects of one of my experiments due to the possibility that foreknowledge would skew your reactions, but because you are coming into this totally blind I find myself in a quandry.  Most people would tell you I have no morals to speak of, and they’re typically correct, but I cannot in good faith let you take part in this without your understanding and consent.”

Grimmjow was shifting on his cushion clearly wanting to get to the next stage of the action, whatever that action was, but Ichigo couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that Kisuke was at least trying not to take advantage of the big idiot.

“Yeah, yeah, so what’s this going to do?  Make me howl at the moon?  I already do that sometimes, you know. Roar, not howl, but it’s pretty close.”  He grinned, and Ichigo could just imagine him on the dunes of Hueco Mundo roaring into the night, all the other hollows running in fear from the sound.

“Yes, it isn’t quite that simple, Grimmjow-san.”  Kisuke knelt in a graceful seiza and reached for one of the vials. “If I asked you what drives you, what would you say?”

It only took a second for him to answer. “The fight.  Being the one that’s still standing. That’s what it all comes down to.”

“This,” Kisuke waggled the vial, “will change that.  You’ll still have a drive, and it’ll ride you as hard as your desire to fight, but it won’t be the same.  You may want to run—to flee from whatever you see as danger.   You may want to fuck your way through it, to survive and thrive by spreading your seed as far and wide as you can.  I don’t know.  All I know is that while you’re under the effects of the formula, you *should* react differently than you normally do.”

Grimmjow made a sound in his throat like he had a hairball. “Flee my ass.  I’ve never run from anything in my life and no fucking formula is going to change that.  Fucking?  I don’t care about that, but who’m I going to fuck?   You?  The Berry over here? If you’re saying I’m going to sit around with blue-er balls than usual, I’m going to reconsider this whole thing.”

Kisuke didn’t say anything, but Ichigo couldn’t help but shift his weight slightly and Grimmjow’s eyes widened a fraction when they landed on him. His face was red, he knew, but he wasn’t going to be the one to back out of this.

“Well, well, well,” Grimmjow said, his voice dropping a little lower, his eyes moving from blond to redhead and back again, “not the wrestling match I expected, but I’m game.  Any other side-effects you want to mention before we get this show started?”

Kisuke shook his head and shifted until he could lounge more comfortably. “Well, there are always unforeseen side effects, but they should be minimal.”

Grimmjow looked back and forth between them once more and then took the vial and downed it before raising his cup of tea in a salute.  “Good enough.  If I end up bald or with an extra leg, I’ll just kill you tomorrow.”

“Fair enough,” Kisuke laughed and removed his hat back in a show of rare openness.  “If that happens, you are more than welcome to try.”

Ichigo reached for his matcha and the other vial. “You’re lucky you’re not getting the pink spotted camouflage tea, Grimm. I should’ve gotten a medal for that one.” He slugged back his dose and made a face.  It tasted terrible.  Again.

“Pink spotted camouflage?” Grimmjow’s voice cracked and Ichigo thought he looked a little panicked at the idea. “What the actual fuck?”

“I don’t know, Grimm,” he said and settled back to sip his tea. “It’s Kisuke. What can you expect?”

***

Zangetsu was quiet, and it was making Ichigo nervous.

“Kisuke?” He looked across the table at the blond and sighed. They’d shifted from tea to sake, but he was still not feeling anything but a little warm around the edges. “I don’t think this is working.  How certain are you about the formula’s projected outcome?”

Kisuke took a sip from his cup and very pointedly did not look at Grimmjow. “Oh, fairly certain, Ichigo-kun.  I expect that you’ll be noticing something shortly.”

The Arrancar growled and sucked in a shaky sounding breath. “Yeah, I can pretty much guarantee that if the bleached bastard isn’t making noise in that noggin of yours, it isn’t because he isn’t feeling it.”

Ichigo couldn’t stop his smirk. “Does that mean you’re feeling something Grimm?  Still want to see what Pantera looks like with a high-gloss coat of blood, or have you lost your taste for it?”

Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed and Ichigo could see his throat move in a convulsive swallow. “Not sure you want to tease, Kurosaki,” his voice sounded like it was being dragged across broken glass, “I may want to swing something other than a sword right now, but you covered in blood wouldn’t be a deal breaker.”

Ichigo’s throat worked on its own swallow at that.

Fuck yeah, Zan finally pushed through and Ichigo felt his breath catch at the overwhelming wave of awareness that came with him. Hold him down and lick him open. Stab his pretty hole with my tongue, stab him with my cock. Make him beg.  Make him cry.  Make him come all over himself.  Pull his hair and fuck his mouth and stripe that face with come until he smells like me, tastes like me, aches for me…  fuck, fuck, FUCK.

Ichigo must’ve made a noise because suddenly Kisuke’s eyes were focused on him, measuring. “Ichigo-kun? Everything okay?”

He was too far away.  Ichigo couldn’t feel him.  Couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin.  Couldn’t smell the ink and sandalwood and sword oil that meant Kisuke.

“Finally hit ya, huh?” Grimmjow asked, tossing back the dregs of sake in his cup. “Wondered how long I’d have to wait.”

Ichigo turned to face the Arrancar and could see the wildness flickering in the depths of his gaze.  His face burned because he knew what Zan was saying.  What he was thinking.

“Kisuke?” He pried his gaze away from Grimmjow long enough to ask, “You still have the wards up on the bedroom?”

The blond was already half-way to his feet as he answered, “Yes.”

“Good,” he said, holding on to his control by a thread. “It’s time to move.” He bared his teeth and lunged at Grimmjow with a growl, sinking his teeth into the long tendon there that had been tempting him for longer than he wanted to admit.  “Now.”

***

The futon was barely big enough for the three of them.

Kisuke had hesitated, standing to one side while his measured gaze following Ichigo and Grimmjow as they’d all but attacked each other, but Grimmjow stopped and reached out, his long fingers twisting in the front of his samue, pulling him inexorably closer.

“You don’t get off that easily,” he laughed, dark and suggestive, “or maybe you will, I don’t know.  What does it take to get a mad scientist off, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo pried himself away from Grimmjow’s neck long enough to answer. “He likes it all, Grimm, but if you want to knock his geta off, rubbing his prostate while you’re sucking his cock as deep as possible usually works for me.”

Kisuke visibly shuddered at the words and Grimmjow and Ichigo shared a grin.  “Can’t say I blame him.  Nothing like a good face-fucking to get things started.”

Another time Ichigo might have snarked about how quickly Grimm went to his knees, but watching him strip Kisuke so efficiently, pulling his cock out and licking a strip from crown to balls and back again, drove everything from his head except, “Fuck, yeah.  Just like that. Holy shit that looks amazing.”

Kisuke groaned along with him as he grabbed two handfuls of blue hair, jerking his hips forward just as Grimmjow wrapped his lips around him, the glistening tip of his prick disappearing and then reappearing with a lewdly wet pop. “It feels amazing as well, Ichigo-kun.” He pulled back and angled himself so that his next thrust slid his length along Grimmjow’s jaw, smooth in a gigai, but they were all thinking about the sharp edges of the bone mask that should’ve been there.  Instead, there was a trail of pre-come tracing his jawline that made Ichigo itch to kiss it and taste the combination of slick and skin.

Kisuke reached down and stuck a thumb in the side of Grimmjow’s mouth, “I can’t wait to ruin this pretty mouth,” he said, pumping his cock in alongside it, the tips of his fingers pressing against the hinge of Grimmjow’s jaw holding it open as he fucked into it, “fill your mouth until you can’t breathe.  Let those blue eyes beg enough and maybe I’ll let you.”

The tone, threatening enough that normally Grimmjow would be raring to strike out at anyone who dared to talk to him that way, was clearly pressing different buttons.  His eyes fluttered closed and his tongue lolled out beneath Kisuke’s cock, drool leaking from the corners of his mouth.

Ichigo watched the scene unfold, Zan howling in the dark corners of his mind as he watched the two men, deadly and beautiful, and all he could hear was the drumbeat of mine, mine, mine, drowning out every other thought.

Grimmjow had worn regular human clothes for the tournament and the tight black trousers clearly showed the outline of his hard-on, huge and heavy, pressing against his zipper. Ichigo sucked a breath in through his mouth, the musk of Kisuke’s arousal and the heady scent of Grimmjow going straight to his head, and he knew had to see it, to touch it, to taste it.

“Shift your leg, Grimm,” he said, trying to pull the fabric down and out of the way without tangling Grimmjow’s legs up painfully.  Finally he managed, and his mouth literally watered when he got his first glimpse of the Arrancar’s cock.  A hot spurt of pre-come squirted out of his own, and he pressed a hand into it to try to minimize the wave of sensations that swamped him.

“Like what you’ve uncovered, Ichigo-kun?” Kisuke managed to sound mostly unmoved, but Ichigo could hear the hint of breathiness that was the first sign of his loss of control.  He and Grimm may have been the ones dosed, but none of them were getting out of this unscathed. “He has an impressive cock, doesn’t he?  I can’t wait to see it disappearing into your slick, stretched hole.  Zangetsu-san will hate that, watching you allow another hollow to ride you, to fuck you…”

He swallowed the last word on a strangled groan as Grimmjow took him deep into his throat, and Ichigo could just imagine what that tight ring of muscle felt like, wrapped so tightly around him that it stroked him with every millimeter he moved.

The redhead couldn’t wait anymore.  He stood and shucked his clothing, not caring where it landed, and he wrapped his hand around his own length, pumping it in counterpoint to Grimmjow’s movements. The blond watched him, eyes hooded, and Ichigo could see the wheels within wheels moving in his head.

“You should take care of our guest,” the words were mild, but they triggered a wave of hunger that consumed him, the idea of touching Grimmjow’s muscular ass suddenly becoming the most important thing ever.

“Fuck, Kisuke,” he said, breath stuttering on the upstroke, “yes. Yes.”

He stumbled over Grimmjow’s legs where he was kneeling on the futon and grabbed the pot of slick from the bedside table, somehow managing to open it without spilling it everywhere.

Grimmjow was working up and down Kisuke’s cock like it was the only thing in the world, his chin dripping with saliva and pre-come, until Ichigo’s weight fell against him. He pulled off with a wet pop and glared.

“Watch it, Ichigo,” he said, hoarse from the fucking Kisuke’d given his throat, and Ichigo felt a shudder ripple through him both at the sound of Grimm’s broken voice and the sound of his name being said with it.

“I am watching it,” he said, hiding behind a little of his standard bravado, “and if I can say so, it’s well worth watching.”

He ogled Grimmjow’s ass and waggled his eyebrows until both the big Arrancar and Kisuke let out rough laughs.

“Watching isn’t going to cut it tonight,” Grimmjow arched his back a little and spread his knees, balls hanging heavy between his thighs and Ichigo just wanted…  everything.

“Want to fuck you, Grimm,” he said as he ran a sword-calloused finger down the graceful line of the other man’s spine, “Zan’s going a little crazy about it, but this…  this is what I want.” He dipped three fingers in the pot of slick and let the other man see them for a moment, and then, before he could react, Kisuke grabbed him by the sides of his head and thrust his cock between his gasp-opened lips.

Fuck, Kisuke. Zangetsu was as turned on by the blond’s move as Ichigo was, So hot.  Fuck his face.  Choke him on your cock.  

Ichigo pressed the tip of one finger against Grimmjow’s entrance, the muscle there tight and hot, and all three of them groaned from the domino effect of the sensation.  A second finger quickly followed the first, and then a third, the knowledge that Grimmjow was probably the most durable person he could ever fuck soothing whatever pangs of conscience he might have about proper prep.

Kisuke watched his progress closely, eyes glittering as he relentlessly slid his rigid prick between Grimmjow’s lips, pressing so deeply that it brought tears to the Arrancar’s eyes, and then backing off just enough for him to catch his breath before starting the cycle over again, timing every thrust to coincide with Ichigo’s fingers. The harder Kisuke pressed him, though, the hungrier he seemed, opening wider, swallowing harder, hips rocking back against Ichigo’s fingers as he strained for more, every bit as wild and driven he’d ever been in battle, and the redhead wondered if just that would be enough to get him off.

Then, Kisuke changed the game.

“As lovely as this has been, Grimmjow, I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed.” He pulled his cock out of Grimmjow’s mouth, but didn’t move far, his cock still ruby red and glistening mere finger’s-widths away. Ichigo watched, fascinated, as he gripped his own length and pumped it slowly, teasing the other man. “You’ve always talked such a good game I thought you’d be a sexual force to be reckoned with, but you’re just a little too…  passive for me.”

He smiled at Ichigo over the blue head. “Maybe I’ll just watch you try to top from the bottom with Ichigo-kun.”

Grimmjow erupted into motion, his lethal body moving faster than he had all night, leaving Ichigo wide-eyed and slick-fingered on the side-lines as he swept Kisuke into a hold that had to knock the air out of him.

“Can’t come up with a better insult than topping from the bottom, Shinigami?” He grabbed Kisuke’s legs and dropped him onto his back with a growl, pinning him there with his full body weight as he slotted his hips between Kisuke’s legs and lodged his cock between Kisuke’s ass cheeks. “I know what you’re doing, pushing me, pissing me off.  You and your fucking experiments.  You want to see what happens when you piss me off enough that I lose control? I’ll tell you. I’m going to fuck you so hard they’ll hear you in Hueco Mundo, so hard your crimson bitch won’t be able to sit down. And then? Then, I’m going to fuck Ichigo until he can’t remember his fucking name, and make you watch while my come leaks out of your ass and you can barely crawl across the futon to beg for more.”

Slick fingers pressed into Kisuke’s hole and the blond squirmed and gasped, but his cock was still jutting up, hard and demanding, and Ichigo knew he was enjoying it.

Grimmjow looked over at him and grinned triumphantly, a wild, beautiful thing, and Ichigo leaned in and caught his mouth in a filthy kiss that tasted of lust and violence and Kisuke’s cock.  He licked into Grimm’s mouth again and again, eating at the heat there, listening to Kisuke groan and hiss and sigh under the demanding fingers that were stretching him wide for fucking, and knew he’d never again be able to see Grimmjow’s battle grin without getting hard.

Zangetsu was vibrating at the edge of his inner world, cursing Grimmjow and Kisuke by turns, and Ichigo swatted him away, because these two were his, and Zan could just go fuck himself and the horse he identified as.

He leaned over Grimmjow’s shoulder and looked at his cock, ruddy and huge, dripping pre-come, and breathed into his ear. “Go on. Fuck him, Grimm. He’s a fucking slut for it.  He’ll love it.  Love the stretch and burn as you pound into him.  Love it when you hit that spot that makes his cock leak and his eyes roll back in his head.”

Grimmjow growled and pressed against the ring of muscle that was the last barrier between him and Kisuke’s heat. Then, with one rapid rock of his hips he breached his ass, dragging a low groan from the Shinigami beneath him.

“Fuck yes,” Kisuke hissed the words and rolled into the thrust, silently demanding more.  Grimmjow was more than willing to provide.

“Isn’t he perfect?” Ichigo asked, hot breath stirring the fine blue hair around Grimm’s ear. “He’s made for fucking.  Tight ass. Hard cock.   Smart enough to know exactly what to do to make you see stars.  Wait until you feel him in your ass. You’ll want him again and again.”

Kisuke let out a little moan as Grimmjow bottomed out forcefully and he flexed his muscles around the Arrancar’s length.

“Fuck,” Grimm gutted the word out. “You’re so fucking tight.  It’s like fucking a velvet vise.”

Kisuke let out a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh and Ichigo couldn’t help but feel a pulse of envy.

“Lean forward, Grimm.  Hold him down.” He wrapped himself over Grimmjow’s broad back and held on as he bucked into Kisuke, and Ichigo found his hole with questing fingers again.  He was still loose from earlier but Ichigo took his time, curling his fingers and sliding them along the rim before twisting so that he could find that spot, that incredible little spot that would make even Grimmjow whimper and whine.

He angled himself to capture Grimmjow’s lips in another kiss, this one sloppy and breathless, distracted by the pistoning of Grimm’s hips as he fucked Kisuke so hard Ichigo was almost afraid for his gigai, but Ichigo had pounded Kisuke’s ass often enough to know that a day or two of rest was all the blond needed before he was back in form, turning the tables and driving him to the edge and over.

“Want to see you fuck him, Ichigo-kun,” Kisuke’s voice broke on the words, desire so thick he could hardly speak around it.  “Want to see his face.  Want to hear you both.” He reached out with a scrabbling hand and Ichigo grabbed it and squeezed.

“Grimm?” Ichigo asked, unwilling to force the Arrancar into something he didn’t want, but apparently it wasn’t a problem.

“You heard him. You need an engraved invitation?” was all he said, but the answer rattled through Ichigo and he groaned, dragging clawed fingers down Grimmjow’s flank, digging into the dimples above his hipbones as he settled his weight behind the bigger man.

The heat pouring off Grimmjow was amazing, and Ichigo rubbed his face against the plane of his back, nipping along the bumps of vertebra, his knees splayed obscenely to either side of the well-muscled ass.  Grimmjow leaned farther forward and dropped down to catch Kisuke’s lips in a kiss, something Ichigo had never thought to see, stilling the motion of his own hips to allow Ichigo to maneuver into place, his cock pressed against the puffy red furl of his opening, slick and soft and worked loose until it practically sucked him in.

“Fuck.”  He breathed the word against Grimmjow’s skin and felt rather than hear a rumble in response.

“What are you waiting for, Kurosaki?” A dry, raspy need threaded through Grimmjow’s voice that hadn’t been there before and it made something predatory in Ichigo sit up and take notice. “Just put it in me, you son of a bitch. Fuck me with that cock.  I know you want it.  Show your boyfriend here what fucking a hollow is really like.  Let the hunger out.  I won’t break.”

Ichigo couldn’t pass up an offer like that. He snaked a hand down beneath them to where Grimm’s balls were tight against him and rolled them once, twice, gently and then buried himself deep in his ass in one thrust.

Grimmjow roared and Ichigo howled along with him.

Sweet heat exploded around his cock, and he could feel the shock waves as he lost control of his reiatsu, the waves of it pounding against the others. He rocked forward and down, forcing Grimmjow deeper into Kisuke, and the moans that broke from them both only fed the flames of his hunger. He loved that sound, loved that he was the one wringing it from them, and wanted to hear it again and again, until they were too hoarse to speak.

“Look at us, Kisuke,” he reached around Grimmjow and grasped the blond’s cock, the drooling, dripping length of it hot in his hand, “this is what you said you wanted so open those pretty eyes and watch carefully.  I’m going to fuck him now.  Fuck him and let him take you apart until you’re nothing but a quivering, come-soaked mess.”

He couldn’t have stopped now if someone had held a sword to his throat.   He started with a quick motion, rocking deeper and deeper into Grimmjow until he was working at a constant pace, shifting after every third or fourth stroke to aim for his prostate, pulling moans and curses from the Arrancar as he also almost brutally stroked Kisuke’s cock.

“Fuck, Kurosaki. Harder. Harder.” Grimmjow was holding himself up over Kisuke, the muscles in his arms rippling as he panted and bucked, his own cock plunging in and out of Kisuke at a wicked pace spurred on by Ichigo’s fucking and the redhead couldn’t tell if he was begging or threatening him. “I’m almost there.   Fuck.  That’s it.  Come on.  Fuck it out of me. Yes, yes…  right… there! Fuck!”

He jerked as if electrified, his whole body locking up as he poured his come into the blond beneath him, but Ichigo kept moving, slamming his hips against him until he was sure Grimmjow would have bruises on his ass.  He could feel his own orgasm just beyond his reach, and he stroked Kisuke’s cock in time with his own rhythm, determined to bring him off. His thighs trembled and he could feel his balls tighten as he dragged his thumb through the wet slit at the tip of Kisuke’s cock and then he heard it, that sob and gasp that he sometimes heard in his best dreams, and as Kisuke came, so did he.  Pulse after pulse of come striped Grimmjow’s chest and pooled on Kisuke’s belly and Ichigo filled Grimm’s ass as the reiatsu waves of a truly earth-shattering orgasm ripped through all three of them.

Later when consciousness had crept slowly back, they pulled themselves apart like pieces of a come-covered jigsaw puzzle, breathing heavily in the dim bedroom.

“So,” Grimmjow said, scrubbing a hand through his wild blue mane and looking at Ichigo, “I’d say the mad scientist’s experiment was a success.  What about you?”

Ichigo smothered a grin.  “I’d agree. Kisuke?”

The blond rolled over sleepily and settled between them, spooning back into the big Arrancar’s body while wrapping an arm around the redhead.   “Well, first impressions are positive, but you know how it is with these things.  One has to be able to recreate the results of an experiment several times before being certain of anything.”

In the recesses of Ichigo’s inner world, Zangetsu laughed.

[aajjks]

The Conqueror (XIII)

Synopsis: He had conquered everything, anything but your heart.

Pairings: Yandere!King Jungkook x Commoner!servant Reader (FT SANA from Twice and Cha Eunwoo From ASTRO.)

warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER D*ATH, OBSESSION, POSESSIVENESS, lots of bl**d, fighti*g, go*e, etc, DARK THEMES AHEAD. CRAZY JUNGKOOK!

note. *crying noises* this chapter is just SAD. ENJOY! share feedback plz I beg. I hope this chapter shows up in the tags… plz show support and love…

series masterlist.

taglist: @mageprincess7 @starsggukk @sprinkleoftee @koremis @minshookie29 @sana-b @bangtannoonalvg @oonaaurora @jeonsweetpea @sugaslittlekookies @outro-kook @kthyg @lunaashes @debicaptain-saturn @laurynne5 @captainsjoongs @myblackconfessions @lanalanexpjm @namjooncrabs @shadowmoon21 @kookunot @natalie-rdr @angelicasdre @iwasfuckinginnocentonce @mermaidtea @foulnightharmony @ungodlyjoon @quechulitaaa @telepathytae @silversparkles11 @j3alous-ang3l @bunzom @1-in-abillion @breadgeniedope @jiminie-08 @artgukk @lovesthetword @bunijmin @pinkcherrybombs @afangirllikeme-blog @twilight-love-nochu-main @wedarkacademia @hollxe1 @bighitfics @darkuni63 @golden-thv @investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @koocreampie (I can’t tag anymore people, it’s full 😭😭)

Jaehyun and you walked in the cold breeze together, his hand gripped yours as your feet worked in harmony. Jaehyun couldn’t believe that he had found you. “Ahhh yoon-ho? You can let go of my hand… I promise I won’t run haha…” The man blinked twice at your words, his cheeks heated as he passed you an awkward smile, loosening his grip on your hand, “yeah… we’re almost here…” he replied, immediately changing the subject. He glanced at your face once as his thoughts began to run through his mind.

Should he let you really know how he found you?

There was a guilt in his heart. “Y/N? I think there’s something you should know…” he stopped walking, glancing at the wooden house in front of you.

Jaehyun tries to avoid eye contact, but the way your innocent glance falls on him, he opens his mouth. “I-I needed to let you know something.” He stuttered. As he guided you inside his home, the atmosphere inside felt cold but tolerable as you followed behind him, his words confused you. Your eyebrows furrowed together as you nodded at him, “hey, where is samchon?” You asked Jaehyun about his father, while he guided you to a spare room.

The one you were so familiar with, as you walked inside, you’d forgotten that he has something to tell you, that is until you sit down on the wooden bed with a not so soft feeling of the mattress,

A feeling of relief washed over you as your gaze followed the room.

You were home.

“Would you like some water? What am I asking, of course you’d like water…” Jaehyun slapped his forehead as a small laugh left your lips. He looked at you once as he walked away to fetch some water for you.

You watched as he excused himself and observed the familiar room, a bunch of your childhood memories hit you.

A smile found its way on your lips.

“Y/N! We will be together forever right?” A child pouted as he played with your pigtails, his high pitched voice made you giggle.

“I don’t think so… Jaehyunnie…. I know that I’m going to marry a king when I grow up!” You covered your mouth as you teased your friend, you got up from his tiny lap to watch his reaction.

As you sat up you heard Jaehyun gasp as if he was offended, the little boy’s nose scrunched in disappointment. His gaze turned shiny as tears welled up in them.

Your giggles only got louder and louder. “W-Why! Why not me! I’m so much better than a king! I-I could b-be a King for you!” The boy stuttered. Your eyebrows knitted together, as a smirk painted on your lips. “Silly…. If you become a king? You can marry me! My grandma used to say that I’m destined to be a queen of a King.” You took your tongue out and blew raspberries at him.

“Okay then! D-Don’t come crying to me if you never find one!” He huffs in annoyance, turning his head away from you.

“I will! And he will steal me away from you!”

You only kept laughing like an innocent little girl.

But if only you had known before…

Dongmin coughed brutally as Jungkook’s sword never left his neck, his maniac gaze only made it harder for Dongmin to breathe. “Both of you siblings will die! Your psycho sister and you stupid little bastard!” Jungkook’s jaw clenched in anger, “I knew about every little plan of your sister’s… she always hated my Y/N..” Jungkook gritted his teeth, growing angered. “God she is so so dumb! So fucking easy to manipulate! Can you believe that I got her to spill all of her plans?!?” Jungkook removed the sword from Dongmin’s neck, setting him free. “And I even convinced her to follow Y/N when she escaped!” Jungkook grabbed his stomach to stop himself from laughing too hard as he saw the shocked expression on the sweating man’s face.

Dongmin’s heart dropped to his stomach at Jungkook’s other confession.

His sister was a skilled spy. There was absolutely no way you could be safe from him anymore… “w-why Jungkook..WHY!” Dongmin had enough.

You were in danger. He screamed at Jungkook who only charged towards him, and punched him in the face. Dongmin’s head almost rolled back at the force. Jungkook fully attacked the man now, throwing another punch to the man, resulting in him falling down to the cold hard floor. Jungkook marched towards him punching him repeatedly, the King gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched in anger and immense jealousy.

Jungkook’s punches were brutal, his knuckles were quick to become bloody as he kept his pace up.

“WHY?!? BECAUSE SHE IS MINE! Y/N WAS ALWAYS MINE! MINE MINE MINE! AND YOU TRIED TO STEAL HER AWAY FROM ME! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!” Jungkook growled as he threw one last hard punch to Dongmin’s face.

Knocking him out.

Jungkook finally stopped himself, he got up, his face had some drops of blood splattered as he glared at the unconscious bloody face of Dongmin.

“Pathetic!” He spat. “No one can take Y/N from me. I’ll kill you all!” Jungkook picked up his sword as he got prepared for the other step.

And as expected, the throne room’s door knocked.

“COME IN!” Jungkook replied as he kicked Dongmin’s half alive body to the side. And walked to his throne, “m-my king.” Jungkook smirked as he heard a familiar voice stutter.

“Consort sana! Welcome back!” Jungkook’s tone was awfully happy, as he turned around to look at the female.

“So… what did you bring for me!?” He quickly asked her, who looked confused as to why there was blood splattered on Jungkook’s face, and on the empty floor.

But she didn’t ask, instead she looked at Jungkook’s face.

And her heart swelled with love. He looked so happy to see her. “My king…” she bowed down. “I found where Y/N went…” she informed, her tongue turned sour. “Chief consort Y/N.” Jungkook’s authoritative voice corrected the girl. Sana raised her eyebrows at Jungkook's angry tone and quickly nodded. “I’m sorry my king… c-chief consort Y-Y/N… she is in gagyeong…” she spoke once again. “That’s all I know..” she bowed down again.

Jungkook’s heart stopped, his eyes widened as a huge smile took over his lips. “Really??!” He couldn’t believe it,

He had found you. “Come here, sana..” Jungkook called out to the awaiting woman, as he walked towards her. The girl’s steps were fast as she obeyed his command a little too eagerly.

Maybe he was going to kiss her.

The two people stood incredibly close to each other. Jungkook’s eyes set on her as sana couldn’t help but blush.

“Thank you… so much.” He spoke to her. Taking her face in his hands. She only leaned into his touch. Jungkook’s other hand was behind his back.

Clenching onto his sword. “Anything you want, my king…” she smiled.

Jungkook forced out a smile, “okay, now die!” His smile faltered as he whipped out his sword and didn’t give sana a chance to respond as he pierced it right through her chest.

A choked noise left her as her blood oozed out, her eyes turning lifeless as her sprayed into his already bloodied face.

Her lifeless glossy eyes staring at his face.

[inke-ri]

ok ok fine so- best moments of this new update:

(yes, this will be long, no I dont know how to put it under a read more on mobile. Sorry OTL)

- The Nightlights get actual unique personalities. In Homecoming, only Dart seemed to have one, while the boys were basically "cute boys who are always sparring". Here, Dart is inquisitive and forward, Ruff is a bit lazy but with a heart of gold, and Pouncer is playful and brave (he's biting at his tail like a dog would here lmao).

- Pouncer reminds me of his dad a lot. He follows you around because he wants to be near you, he sneaks after you as you go to a dangerous place, and even tho he is Baby, he still tries to use a blinding sort of light flash /shot to protect you from dragon hunters. He can get a little scared at times but he immediately calms down near you, and trusts you enough to follow you despite being afraid. The moment the fear disappears he just happily flies around like a dork <3 He's probably my favorite of the three but it's really hard to choose because they're all so unique.

- Dart is very much her mother's daughter. She's impulsive, wild, and does what she wants when she wants. She also apparently idolizes the Green Death, which is hilarious (for those that dont know, the Green Death is another female who moved and took over Dragon Island after the original Red Death was killed in SOD Universe, and yes, she is green). I'm not kidding, she killed a ship full of people lmao. Well, indirectly. She flew up to the Green Death and eventually led her to shoot fire at a whole ship of warlords. And eventually set fire to the whole fleet... in the open seas. Yea, those people are dead.

That said Dart is caring and protective and her special "power" is to rally and protect other dragons. She really feels like a mix of her mom's wild, more brutal side with her father's protectiveness. While she likes the Player character well enough I got the distinct feeling she bonds with dragons better, which I really love! She's just. Wild, but still open to work with people, just like her mom in this universe. Well, maybe a little more open than Mom. I also really like that both Pouncer and Ruffrunner had moments in which they were afraid and the Player had to comfort them, but Dart never did. She was always up and ready to go lmao.

- Ruffrunner is SO cute. Despite being a fighty boy, he's very attached to his parents and apparently wants to make them proud. He's also very lazy, he likes to nap around |D That said, he cares so deeply for others that he willingly puts himself in danger and draws enemy fire so others can attack properly. He's more tanky than the other two so he can take it. He's SO eager to help (and prove himself), be it you or his parents, which matches how his unique ability is to take hits to make sure everyone isnt attacked. He reminds me of the Toothless that was willing to die if it meant saving Hiccup.

- Bonus points for Toothless for being a fantastic dad to his kids and apparently not taking the Stoick route. He encourages Ruffrunner to be brave and look, this is just an excuse to show you how adorable they are.

- Hiccup remarks that Ruffrunner reminds him a lot of himself and how he wanted to make his parents proud of ALL of him. Why, yes, he referenced the "all this" line in the year of our Lord 2022. Did I mention I love this game? I love this game.

- As an AMAZING bonus, Valka was there and heard it, and she was actually a little awkward and upset at the thought of Hiccup suffering because of that. God. I love their dynamic. Just the right amount of awkwardness and guilt despite how much they love and understand each other, which makes perfect sense considering she abandoned him for 20 years.

- Valka in general getting focus and development is great. I love how every time she visits the Hidden World (she gets to see the Hidden World y'all!!!) she's in awe of it.

- Backtracking to talk about the Green Death for a second bc I love what they did with her! While she's just as violent and brutal as the Red Death, she didn't immediately go for the Warlord ships. Only after we rescued some baby scuttleclaws from those ships was that the Green Death attacked them.

I just love love LOVE that a dragon of the same species as the "pure evil"-type one from the first movie is not ACTUALLY shown as pure evil and IS capable of protecting and caring... just like any other dragon. I did not expect this but it was SO good. Between this and you being able to rescue and train one of Grimmel's deathgrippers, I LOVE how this game tells us that there are no true evil dragons. 10/10 point goes to School of Dragons.

- Just, this line from Valka:

I'm gonna be a bit salty for a sec because this. THIS. You have to respect these creatures and sometimes only watch from a distance- not every dragon needs to be trained, which is the lesson Hiccup seemingly had to learn in httyd 3. But learning about them, seeing them, living with them, even from a distance, is what leads to love and respect and inspires you to take care of them.

Not, y'know, shoving them down a hole for a thousand years. Even if it IS a very cozy hole. THAT just leads to them being forgotten and for people to still wanna use them for their own gains, like the timeskip show whose name I'm forgetting tells you.

Here they actually move back and forth between the skies and their ancestral home. I love that they have the freedom to do so.

- The King of Dragons lives! Somehow!

I didn't expect this- would have been cool if Drago's Bewilderbeast had taken over the King's duties to protect the original nest- buuuut y'know what? I'm okay with this. He deserved better and he's a good boi and I love him so yea.

Stoick is still dead here, and it IS heavily implied to still have been Drago-Toothless who took him out, so my best guess is that Drago's Bewilderbeast took the King out of commission long enough for Toothless to challenge him and become an Alpha on his own, etc, but he's recovered since?

- Hiccup arrives in the Sacturary after a while and... I dunno, maybe seeing the King of Dragons reminded him of his father, because he quietly mutters that "I miss him so much."

The shock and pain kept me from screenshotting the first comment from him. Ugh, come for my heart won't you. I love that Hiccup still struggles with being Chief, and missing Stoick, but is trying his best. I love how this game doesn't forget about him- there's a whole video sequence dedicated to his memory in one of the previous storyline missions when we return to Dragon Island for the first time. I'm very lucky to have played this game VERY on and off for years, because I still remember everyone's httyd1 models, Stoick being there, and his missions about the importance of being responsible and being a chief. I treasure them fondly since he's not around anymore- not even in this game.

- Speaking of Hiccup, he's surprisingly absent for most of the storyline! He only shows up every now and then and doesn't even participate in the battle with the Warlords and Stormheart- you work mainly with the Nightlights and Valka through this story. At first I wasn't sure why, but eventually I realized that I really liked this. It sort of shows that Hiccup can delegate- that we don't NEED him to be there at all times to do the right thing and fight for the bond with dragons. It shows his ideas are spreading- that he's changing the world little by little :)

- I also really like how they pair each of the nightlights with a King Dragon that inspires them. Pouncer with the playful, curious and brave Luminous Krayfin, Dart with the fierce, wild yet protective Green Death, and Ruffrunner with the gentle, protective and loyal Bewilderbeast. Amazing way to showcase their personalities and make them unique! Also goes to show how all 3 have what it takes to, perhaps one day, become worthy Alphas of their own.

- As a last bit, I love that they make the Warlords threatening- Griselda gets a bit of a spotlight, and I loved the tension between the three Warlords and Stormheart since they kept intruding on her turf. I love how the Warlords got a whole storyline for themselves after Grimmel is dead, even if the star of the show is still Stormheart.

- Also also, it takes the whole gang (minus Hiccup and Toothless), PLUS Player and his dragon, PLUS Valka and Cloudjumper, PLUS THREE WHOLE NIGHTLIGHTS to defeat them, instead of 6 kids in flight suits. While the game focuses just on you and the nightlights, everyone else IS there and they didn't NEED to spend money and resources to add that. I thought it was very cool.

- Stormheart in general is just such a good character. I love that we have a female villain in the first place, I love how after threatening you for so long she finally decides she's done and Player's gonna die... I love that SHE's the final boss of the storyline because SHE is the main antagonist of this story and has always been.

- Also, I love that we finally get to blow up her fancy ship that used enslaved dragons to create steam for it to move. It felt so satisfying after all these years.

- Also, it's cute that the Player character gets to pick a nightlight to bond with and train for free at the end of the story, with Toothless and the Light Fury watching on. The fact that they approve and that Hiccup trusts you with this is such a fun way to end this story and to show how far Player has come.

Overall, I both feel and fear this game is gearing up for a final storyline... Stormheart escaped, but her ship and most of her power is no more. Even her ally, Harald, has (perhaps surprisingly) betrayed her and gave us the info to destroy her ship. It feels like it's leading up to one final confrontation with her. If so, it will make the whole thing one hell of a ride, and I couldn't be happier to be able to experience it myself. This story and world is so rich, and it really sticks to the franchise's core, while being fun, educative, not afraid to craft their own unique stories, and so, so full of heart. As I said earlier, it really reminds me of why I love httyd as much as I do.

[jaynovz]

Live reactions to One Foot in the Fade pt1, spoilery

I missed Fetch ahhhh

He is so dumb of ass and fighty and gremlin. My boy 💜💜

"fetch think before you--"

Honey he doesn't have two braincells to rub together

This bad guy is literally the happy mask salesman

Luke said fuck capitalism as usual

RichiexFetch when

Words that Luke has pronounced like an Australian even using the American accent so far: amateur, expletives, tattoo, picture, idea

Luke said acab as usual:

"I'm not sure there's any such thing. There are good people, but once you put on the uniform, it does all kinds of crazy things to you. Any kind of uniform, really. I've worn enough to know. So have you. All these patches, jackets and tattoos, they're just excuses. Ways to blame the things we've done on someone else."

Richie like "you're my friend doesn't that count for something?" but Fetch like I'm from Weatherly we don't talk about our fucking feelings, what is this nonsense

"I don't think I matter, in that way" oh fetch baby

"Oh nothing like that I just need to hire a sex worker" truth in fiction because of Luke and Michael hutchence and his INXS preparation lnaooo

Simms lesbian???

Siren Song!!!

People getting juiced out here with spirit fingers, overloaded with juice

Just the requisite gushing about how fucking good Luke is at doing voices, Jesus Christ

Georgio's story and don quixote, is this anything

Got hit by a car lmaoooo back to Whump City. He really does love beating the shit out of his main character

GAY GAY GAY SWORD FIGHTING

LUKE THAT'S GAY ALSO YOU'RE NOT SUBTLE

He is out here panting and gasping dialogue between two men swordfighting and also apparently they boxed in the backyard????

fellas is it gay to box in the backyard with your nemesis when the words get too heated

were they shirtless too

Also earlier Niles literally said "good boy" to Fetch and I fucking saw God

BS references so far: walrus ogre, treasure, it mattered, sword fighting, sacrifice vs survival and The Cause, "I am this city" aka "I am your king" aka "I am Nassau"

More 2 come~

[bqstqnbruin]

Aerosmith

Alright, y'all: here's that fic that I'm low key scared no one is going to read that has taken me a few months to write, a Trent x single mom!reader fic

It's a long one, with the Bruin's feral little fighty boy from St. Louis, around 13.3k words. The songs listed as the headers of each section are all by Aerosmith, each part partially inspired by the song (hence the name of the fic)

Shoutout to @toplinetommy for helping me with this the entire time and being my beta AND to @chara-hugs for letting me bounce ideas off of you and talking through what I was thinking of. Love you lots 💛

I hope people like this

___________

Just Push Play

Considering how much was happening around you at the bar your friends had dragged you to, the only thing that could keep your attention was your phone. It was the only thing, at this point, that you would allow to keep your attention. You had no desire to be there. Part of you wanted your phone to start buzzing, anything that would give you an excuse for you to leave, but the other part of you knew that something bad had to happen in order for you to leave. Every second that you stayed was costing you more money and less time being where you wanted to be.

“Hey, Y/N, put the phone away. This is your first night out in, like, years,” Molly tells you.

“Four years. Maybe five?” you guess.

“Six years, exactly,” she wrongly says, earning a disappointed head shake from you, a small ‘no’ escaping your lips that goes ignored as she takes your hand that’s holding the phone. “Can we please just enjoy tonight and have some fun? He’s going to be fine.”

You take in a deep breath, almost sure she was right about that. You hadn’t had a night to yourself in years, and Molly was also almost right that this was your first one in over four years. Actually, given the timeline, it was probably more like five. “But what if something happens?” you ask, the natural worry and constant fear you felt taking over your ability to just enjoy the night.

“If something, anything happens, you’ll be able to feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, and I will go home with you to take care of it,” she reassures you, playing around with the settings on your phone. She hands it back to you, pulling you up from the table you had yet to move from in the first place. “He’s fine. He always is. Why don’t you request a song?”

“Because you keep telling me you hate my music.”

“Well, that’s because you have the same music taste as your sixty-something-year-old father when you’re a twenty-something-year-old woman.”

“You don’t even know how old I am? We’re the same age.” Molly rolls her eyes at you, dragging you up to the line of people to request songs, a book sitting there with the songs you could request. “They’re not going to have anything I like,” you tell her as the line behind you gets longer.

“Don’t you listen to that one guy?” she starts.

“That could mean anything. Have I told you lately that you are the most unhelpful person I know?” you snap at her, trying to find anything in your Spotify that you could request as the line got shorter and shorter in front of you. “What about this song?” you ask, your finger hovering over someone from one of your Daily Mixes. Molly looks over your shoulder at your phone, shaking her head at your song choice, and every song choice that you suggested. “I’m just going back to the table, you’re being impossible.”

Before she can protest, you turn around and head back to your table, sitting off to the side away from the rest of your friends, your eyes glued to your phone. At this point, you were praying that you would get a message from Rachel asking you to come home, telling you that something was wrong. Even something as simple as she had to leave unexpectedly so you could, too. Anything so that you could leave sooner rather than later.

“Sorry, but you really couldn’t find a song in that book?” you hear a guy's voice, tearing you away from the screen. He sits down next to you, not too close that it was uncomfortable but just close enough that you could smell his cologne, covering the smell of beer that had been lingering in the air around you. “There was some Aerosmith in there, I have a feeling that’s the closest to something you’d enjoy,” he says, smiling at you.

He must have been in the group that was in line behind you, hearing your conversation with Molly. Regardless, you smile back at him, something about his own being so infectious that you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Well, you’re right, but it depends on what Aerosmith song,” you respond, a hint of flirting in your voice.

“Is there a bad one?”

“No, but there are some superior ones,” you tell him, his eyebrow cocked as a sign to get you to explain. “Sweet Emotion is great but not as good as their cover of Come Together. Dream On and I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing are easily, in my opinion, their best songs.”

“Is that up for debate?”

“Oh, you think their most popular songs aren’t their best?”

“I think the one that’s about to play is one of their best,” the guy says, both of you pausing as there’s a lull in the music, the chatter and screaming of the bar’s drunk patrons overtaking everything.

“Just Push Play?” you ask, a smile on your face. It wasn’t one of their most well-known songs, but you still had to admit it was an underrated one.

The boy shrugs, a smirk on his face. “I might have requested it so you’ll have a reason to dance with me,” he flirts, getting up and extending his hand for you to join him.

You hesitate, unsure if you should get up with this mystery man standing in front of you. There was something about him that you couldn’t figure out. He looked young, probably younger than you but looks can be deceiving, nevertheless telling you that there was some sort of innocence or naivety to him, but the obviously fit physique under his clothing telling you that he could and would break your heart in a moment if he had to, the time leading up to that would be like nothing you had experienced before. You didn’t have time or the energy to spend on something you knew would lead to heartbreak, but you felt like you wanted to, like you had to. “I’m not sure I can dance with someone whose name I don’t even know.”

“I’m Trent,” he says, taking your hand and guiding you away from the table. You introduce yourself as his hands snake their way around your waist, holding you close enough that you could feel his heart starting to race against your own chest as your hands met the skin at the back of his neck, your fingers grazing along the collar of the back of his shirt, the two of you not moving at all in sync with the faster beat of the song. Not that you cared. There was something about this boy you were talking to talk to over the music that made you completely disregard the movement around you, forgetting about your phone and what was waiting for you at home for the first time in nearly five years.

You danced for what felt like forever, for what you wanted to last forever, every song passing you by as he listed out song after song that he recognized, most of them country as he claimed he had a country playlist that went on for seven hours, all of them involving him trying to sing bits and pieces of the lyrics off-key, every time pulling a laugh from you.

“I don’t know what I like more,” he starts, resting his forehead against yours as the space between the two of you disappeared, “the music they’re playing or your laugh.”

You roll your eyes, a smile on your face as the heat rushes to your cheeks. “Those lines usually don’t work on me.”

“But?” he asks, his lips ghosting yours.

“But from you, they do,” you tell him, planting your lips on his before he has the chance to say anything else. You didn’t know what it was about Trent; you were never the one to make the first move, you barely interacted with guys at this point since your life was permanently hectic. But Trent was something else. You don’t know what Trent was, you just knew he was different.

His hands were on your back, finding their way to your waist, his grip tightening when you feel someone tap your shoulder. You pull away, a pout on Trent’s face as you turn around to see Molly, waving your phone in your face. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Oh, shoot!” you squeal, taking your phone. “I’m sorry, I have to get home.”

A confused look covers Trent’s face. “Is your Uber going to turn into a pumpkin if you aren’t home, Cinderella?”

You laugh at his joke, going back to your table to grab your stuff. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, “But I really have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.”

You stop in your tracks as you were rushing out the door. You never brought a guy anywhere near your apartment, knowing that most of them would want to go in, most of them would want to sleep with you if you invited them, most of them would be gone by morning when they found out why you didn��t want them there in the first place. You don’t know why you knew Trent would be different. “No, you don’t have to,” you tell him, instead, even though you wish you could bring him home with you.

Before he can answer, someone calls out his name, pulling the two of you away from each other’s attention. “Trent, we’re leaving.”

Trent looks between you and his friend, the group of guys aggregating around him as they wait for his answer.

“You don’t have to,” you repeat, trying to get out the door because you had to.

“Jack, give me a minute,” Trent calls to his friends, “I want to,” he tells you, taking your arm, turning you towards him. The look in his eyes was sincere, begging you to let him walk you home. “Please?”

You let out a sigh, caving in even though you knew you shouldn’t. “Fine, yeah. Let’s go,” you tell him, taking his hand and leading him out of the bar, his friends left without an answer as they watched the two of you walk away.

Come Together

“I’ve had a really great night. Sorry about my friends, though” Trent apologizes to you again. He explained that he had gone out with them after their game that night, supposed to be spending their off-day tomorrow together, but Trent leaving with you had seemingly changed those plans. As the two of you walked and talked on the way back, his hand never left yours, from the time you left the bar to now standing outside your door. He pulls you in for another kiss, the worries of what was on the other side of the door melting away. You wanted to invite him in, but you weren’t sure if he would even want to once he found out.

Your door opens, Rachel stepping out. “Sorry, it’s almost curfew.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” you tell her, Trent confused by the girl sneaking out of your apartment. “That was Rachel. She’s my babysitter.”

“Babysitter?”

You could feel your face twisting involuntarily at his question. You knew you should have told him before you got home, it would have been easier leaving him at the bar than watching him walk away from you outside your door. Why did you even let him walk you home in the first place? Because he’s hot and you’re dumb, that’s why. “I have a four-year-old son. If you wanted to leave, I would understand. Most guys do when I tell them about Ben,” you spit out, not making eye contact with him. You weren’t ashamed of your son, you just knew people your age got weirded out and panicked at the thought of the responsibility that came with having a child.

He tilts your head up, his eyes flicking between your own and your lips, a lazy smile on his face. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to stay?”

“If you’ll have me,” he says, kissing you yet again. You bring him inside, showing him Ben’s room first. The two of you stand in the doorway, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lean against the door frame. You feel him kiss the back of your head as you watch Ben wriggle in his sheets before settling down, you taking Trent’s hand and leading him down to your room. You tell him that you don’t want to do anything because of Ben being so close, Trent giving you a sweet smile, kissing you before settling next to you in bed. You had no idea why, but it all felt so domestic, so right that he was there with you in that moment.

“Can I ask you something?” his voice pierces the silence that had fallen between you.

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you mention Ben before?”

You swallow hard. You weren’t ashamed of having Ben, something you found yourself repeating in your mind every time you told a guy about your son. He was the best part of your life. Everything you did was for him. “We’re young. Being a single mom at our age has such a stigma around it. When guys find out, they normally bolt. I didn’t want you to until the last possible second.” You turn to him, still able to make out his features in the dark, the pout that was forming on his face visible without anything lighting him up.

“You could have told me before we got here,” he says, pain in his voice as he reaches for your face, the pad of his thumb gently grazing over your cheek. “I don’t care if you have a kid. I mean, I do, Ben is part of who you are. But, I would have understood. I understand. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling someone about that part of you. What I know about you so far is pretty amazing, I can only imagine what Ben brings to the table.”

“That seems weirdly out of character for what I know about you,” you tease him, pulling a smile from him.

“Well, maybe, but even a stopped clock is right twice a day, right?”

You kiss him, a feeling of relief washing over you at his words. The two of you spend the rest of the night telling each other about yourselves, keeping quiet for Ben, despite the amount of laughter you let you. You couldn’t remember the last time a guy made you feel so happy, falling asleep with a smile on your face, his arms wrapped around your waist as if that’s where they belonged.

You wake up the next morning, the sun shining into your room, but no Trent. You get out of bed, probably figuring that he had left in the middle of the night, trying to spare your feelings about you having a son. You understood. What guy really wants to get into a relationship with a single mom at this age?

You go to check on Ben, opening the door to his bedroom to find that he wasn’t in his room. You started to panic at the sight of his empty bed, unmade with his blankets in disarray. If Trent was gone, and Ben was gone, where could they be? He wouldn’t kidnap your son, would he? He was a professional athlete, that’s not something he would do, right? Your panic starts to recede when you hear laughter coming from the kitchen.

Trent is standing at the stove, spatula in hand with eggs cooking on the stove, a piece of bread held up to his face with holes bitten out of it where his eyes are, making Ben shriek with laughter. “Sorry. I heard him get up and I didn’t want to wake you, so I started making breakfast. Is that ok?”

You can’t help but smile, going over to Ben. “How’s he doing so far?”

“Mommy, look! French toast!” Ben says, pointing excitedly to the cut-up pieces of bread on his plate.

“French toast?” you repeat, your eyes wide to play along with his excitement. “Give me a bite,” you tell him, opening your mouth as he picks up a piece with his fingers, nearly missing your mouth. You hear Trent laugh, you not containing your own.

You go over to Trent, leaning into him as the two of you watch Ben eat the food Trent made. You feel him kiss the top of your head, his fingers dancing up and down along your arm. You look at his hand, a bandaid on the back of his hand. “What happened to you here?”

“Oh, oops,” he says, looking at his hand. “Got a little cut, but don’t worry, it’s not bad. Dr. Ben here fixed me right up,” he tells you, going over to Ben and ruffling his hair.

Trent hands you a plate of french toast and eggs, pouring you a cup of coffee, kissing you in front of Ben, who either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. No guy had ever stayed the night, let alone stayed and made breakfast for the two of you the next morning.

“So, what were you two talking about before I joined?” you ask, taking another bite of the French Toast. You already knew it was good from what Ben gave you, but you were still devouring it.

“Bears, boots, and battles of galaxias,” Ben lets out, his full mouth spraying crumbs everywhere.

“I’ve been trying to make sense of that all morning. I have no idea what he means. Why does that sound familiar?” Trent asks, sitting down next to you, his hand on your thigh under the table, sending a chill through your entire body as his fingers lazily traced an unknown pattern on your skin.

You take a sip of the coffee he had handed you, setting down your cup and putting your hand on top of his under the table. “He saw that one part of the Office, the identity theft cold opening, where Jim says, ‘Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica?’ That’s how he remembered it,” you explain, Trent looking over to your son who was fixated on the food in front of him.

“Benny,” Trent calls him, your entire body going numb hearing him call him the same nickname you used for your son, “do you like bears?”

“Bears are the coolest!” he squeals. Everything he saw with a bear on it, he would start begging you to buy him, your heart breaking from the look on his face when you had to tell him no, we don’t need the kitchen towel just because it has a bear on it.

“Can you do your best bear impression for Mom and I?” You felt your heart skip at the sound of Trent calling referring to you as just ‘Mom’ instead of ‘your mom,’ like he was already part of the family. You didn’t even hear Ben growling, his best attempt at being the ‘scary’ Baby Bear that he was just laughing along with Trent.

“Hey, buddy, what if I called you Benny Bear from now on? Do you like that?” Trent asks, Ben nodding excitedly at his nickname.

“You’re nice,” Ben says to Trent while he clears his plate, Ben running off to go play.

You look at Trent, not able to help how you were beaming at him getting along so well with your son. It was like he belonged there with you, and with Ben, making his presence that much better. “That means he likes you.”

“Not trying to pry,” Trent starts, standing beside you at the sink while you wash the dishes, “But how often does he like the guys you bring home?”

You bite your bottom lip, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “I almost never bring guys home. And when I do, he generally doesn’t talk to them.”

“So he likes me,” he starts, getting closer to you as you nod your head. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the sink. “How about you?”

“That depends,” you flirt, stretching to turn the sink off before draping your arm on his shoulders, twirling his hair through your fingers at the nape of his neck, “do you like me?”

He lets out a small laugh, pulling you in for a kiss. “I do.”

“I like you, too. Help me finish cleaning up and then we’ll go watch Ben, ok?”

The two of you wash dishes in silence, weirdly domestic and comfortable considering you knew this boy all of twelve hours. “Can I ask you something?” Trent breaks the silence, just as he did the night before.

“Sure.”

“Where’s Ben’s dad?” You take in a deep breath, knowing that this would have come up eventually. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he continues, a wash of panic over his face at the thought of asking something too personal too soon.

You shake your head, smiling at him to try to calm him down. “No, no, that’s fine. Um, we were together when we were in college, but we broke up. I started feeling like shit so I went to the doctor and she told me, ‘Congrats! You’re two months pregnant!’”

“Does he know about Ben?” Trent asks quietly.

“Yeah. Yeah, he does. I told him when I found out because I knew Ben was his. I told him that I was going to keep the baby and since we weren’t together anymore, he had the choice of either being present and helping out or if he didn’t want the responsibility, then that was fine, too.”

He didn’t know what about the way you were talking was making him feel this way. A lump in his throat was forming looking at your eyes start to shine with the threat of tears while you refused to make eye contact with him. You rarely talked about Ben’s father, making the decision a long time ago that he wasn’t worth your time thinking about since he didn’t want much to do with his own son. “And he didn’t?”

“He sends a present to Ben on his birthdays and Christmas, but other than that nothing really. I’m not even sure if Ben’s made the connection between the presents and his father yet. Like I said, though, I gave him the choice.”

“Do you regret anything?”

“I could never regret Ben or anything with him. I almost regret giving his father the choice, though. Being a parent isn’t easy, even if you have someone to take up half the work, but it’s even harder when it’s just you by yourself, you know? And I’ve gotten help, but it would be different if Ben had his dad as a constant in his life. Ben’s only seen him a few times, anyway. He calls him Andy instead of dad, and it’s just,” you stop, trying to find the word, “heartbreaking seems too severe, seeing him not acknowledge his dad as his dad, but what can you do?”

Trent didn’t know what to say. He was practically still a child himself when you really look at him. He couldn’t imagine having his own at this point in his life, let alone raising one on his own. “I’m sorry,” is all he can get out, trying not to cry even though he could hear Ben’s laughter ringing from the other room, sending a weird sense of joy through him at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I would rather do this alone than do this with someone who didn’t want Ben to begin with. You can’t be a parent if you aren’t all in.”

He had no idea why, but he already felt so connected to Ben. There was no reason why, but he did. “I’m in.”

You turn back to him, shocked, confused, not even sure if you heard what he said properly. “What?”

“I’m in with you. With Ben. If you’ll let me. I want to see you again, keep seeing you. And that includes Ben. He already likes me, after all.” Trent was used to making snap decisions, on the ice, off the ice, wherever. He knew this was one, but this one felt like his best one.

“You don’t have to, you have your own life with hockey and everything,” you try to insist, cut off by Trent’s lips connecting with yours.

“I want to. Let’s go play with Ben.”

Angel

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask him for what was probably the millionth time, getting out of his car in front of the rink.

He runs around to get Ben out of his car seat, you grabbing the stuff he had stashed in the trunk. “Yes, I promise it is. The guys bring their kids all the time and they’re way younger than Ben.” He had invited you and Ben to the family skate the team was having, you reluctant to go since Ben had never been skating before. Naturally, you were worried he would get hurt, either by falling down or being curious about the skate and somehow cutting himself, something you were sure he would do if given the chance.

You two had been together for about a month, Ben falling head over heels for Trent, jumping up and down whenever he saw him on TV. Much to your dismay, Ben loved it when Trent was fighting, begging you to let him play hockey so he could fight just like Trent. You loved taking videos of his excitement despite that fear of him skating and fighting like Trent, sending them to him to see during the game, Trent always making sure to FaceTime you the next afternoon when you got home from work if you two couldn’t meet up so that he could talk to Ben. He was acting like the dad Ben never had.

And that was terrifying to you. The thought of you and Trent breaking up and him suddenly leaving Ben’s life was the reason why you never got close with a guy before. You didn’t want Ben to go through that. You didn’t want to go through that.

But there you were, sitting rinkside at the Garden as you tried to tie up the skates that Trent got for Ben, his feet swinging back and forth in excitement no matter how much you tried to get him to stop for a moment.

“Are you excited, Benny Bear?” Trent asks, picking him up and walking out to the ice.

“Yeah!” he says, squirming around and clearly ready to go.

You weren’t sure if you were more nervous about Ben being on the ice for the first time, Trent already showing him how to skate, or you formally meeting all his teammates for the first time, that night at the bar not really counting. The three of you step onto the ice, Ben in between you two, practically swinging in the air as you both held his hands while you skate.

“You’re nervous?” Trent asks, reading the expression on your face.

“They look like they didn’t know about Ben.” You saw the looks you were getting from the guys' families as you and Trent were skating around with Ben between you. You knew they were looks of confusion, but you couldn't help but think that they were the same looks when you went out with Ben in general, the societal disapproval of being a young mother, no ring on that finger to show that this was planned with another parent on the other side. People were judgemental; it was in their nature, but you were hoping Trent’s teammates were accepting like Trent had been.

“Um, I guess I didn’t tell them? I didn’t think I needed to,” he says, looking down at your son. Ben was beaming, not paying attention to what you two were talking about, not that he would probably understand it if he was. Trent didn’t think it would be a big deal to have your son around. The guys knew he was seeing you, but was it really that big a deal that you have Ben? He looks over at you, the scared look that was on your face worrying him. “We can just tell him he’s your nephew or your little brother?” he whispers so Ben doesn’t hear.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem to want them to know he’s your son?”

You stop skating, pulling Trent over to the side while holding onto Ben’s hand as he begs to pull away and take a lap on his own, something you weren’t going to let him do. “I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben,” you hiss at him.

“I’m not saying that you are. I’m just saying if you’re scared of what people would think we could just tell them something else.”

You look at him for a moment, trying to properly process his words. “Am I scared of what people think, or are you?”

He steps back, careful not to fall on whoever's kid was zooming past him at that moment, Ben begging to go skate with him. “Hey, Zach,” he calls Patrice’s son over. “If he takes Ben is that ok?”

You knew you shouldn’t say yes, but you didn’t need Ben hearing this conversation, no matter how oblivious he might have been to begin with. “If you trust him, fine.”

“Zach,” Trent starts, crouching down to their level, his hands on Ben’s shoulders so he can’t skate away before he’s done, “Can you take care of my guy Ben here? Make sure he doesn’t fall? Go skate to your dad.” Zach and Ben practically rush off with each other to Zach’s dad, eager to skate around and surprisingly good for their age. “What do you mean I’m scared?”

“Who’s the one suggesting that we don’t tell your teammates that Ben is my son? We’ve been out together when people ask if he’s my brother, my nephew, if I’m his nanny, and every single time you’ve seen me correct them. I told you I’m not ashamed of Ben. And to come here and have everyone giving us looks because they’re trying to figure out who he is to you makes it seem like you are. You couldn’t even tell the guys you claim are like your family about Ben. He’s not old enough for that hurt, but I am.”

He looks down at the ice, shuffling back and forth on his skates. “I’m sorry.”

You move closer to him, tempted to reach out and hold him. He looked just as hurt as you felt, part of you glad that he was actually showing he was sympathetic instead of just saying it. “Are you ashamed of Ben?”

His head snaps to you, a look of disbelief on his face. He starts shaking his head, the curls on his head that were loose enough going wild with his movement. “I’m crazy about that kid. I know why you aren’t ashamed of him because I don’t think I could ever be.” Trent turns around to find Ben on the ice, skating around with the other kids, some of the guys playing a small game with them, Ben with his own little stick. He watches Ben score on whoever was playing goalie, Ben shrieking with joy. Trent couldn’t help but smile, turning to you. “He means more to me than I thought someone else's child could.”

“Then why didn’t you tell them about Ben?” you ask him.

He shrugs, sticking out his bottom lip. “Because I’m dumb.”

You can’t help but laugh, hooking your fingers in his belt loops to pull him close to you. “Well, I do call you a stupid muppet,” you joke, earning a groan from him, “Hey, I say it with affection and you did say I could call you that.”

He cups your face and kisses you, momentarily forgetting his teammates and their families around you. “We could go tell them now?” he suggests, his forehead pressed against yours.

“Do you want to?”

Trent starts skating over to the rest of the guys, Ben giggling and playing with the rest of the kids. The two of you start talking to his teammates, introducing yourself to Jack and Jeremy, keeping your eye on Ben while he plays as you wait for Trent to finally say something about him.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben’s voice tears you two away from the conversation. “I’m you!” he yells, using the stick to try to shoot the puck, instead missing the puck and falling down on the ice. He was trying to process what just happened, hopefully not meaning to do what he did.

You look at Trent’s face, his teammates laughing while his face turned red. Ben shoots back up and starts skating again, Trent beaming at him. “That was cold,” he says to you, a smile on his face anyway.

“You know he didn’t mean it,” you tell him, squeezing his bicep before skating over to your son. You lift him up off the ice, thankful that he was still small enough to do that as you kiss his cheek and skate around with just him for a bit.

Trent couldn’t take his eyes off you, his teammates doing everything they could to try to peel his attention away from you. He watched you interact with Ben, the same light in your eyes when he looked at your son.

“Dude?” Jack finally succeeds in bringing Trent back down to Earth, “is that her brother?”

Trent shakes his head, turning back to you. “Nope, that’s her son.”

“Son? What are you thinking?” Jack asked. He knew what he meant. Trent was young. You were young. Having a kid was something real adults did, not whatever definition of adult he fell under.

Trent shrugs, watching you and Ben laugh and smile as you skated around, talking with some of the guys' girlfriends as they coo over Ben. “I’ve been better since I started seeing her.”

“You were fine before you started seeing her,” one of them mumbles.

He rolls his eyes, turning back to them. “Come on. I was fine but I wasn’t great. All I did was punch a few guys and get a couple of secondary assists. Even Butch said something about my play last game. Everything in my life is better with Y/N in it. And Ben.”

He didn’t hear what the guys were saying, and honestly, he didn’t care either. He loved your son, probably not as much as you did, but he felt like he was getting there. He wanted to get there.

Because he loved you.

Dream On

“Where are you?” Molly's voice comes through your phone, panicked and irritated. “I thought you were coming in today?”

“What are you talking about? Today’s my day off.” You were at home, sitting on the couch with the tv playing in the background while Ben played with his toys in front of you. It was one of the rare days that you could spend from the time you woke up until you went to sleep with your son, and you had no real intention of changing those plans, which is what it sounded like Molly was going to ask you to do.

“Well, you know that funding we secured for that new project?”

“Yeah?” you say, Ben coming up to you, trying to show you something. “Hold on, Benny. What’s going on, Mol?”

“They’re getting cold feet.”

“You’re joking.”

“No, we need you here. You and DeAndre were the ones who got them in the first place, and he’s already here. Please?”

You take in a deep breath, trying to figure out if anyone is free to watch Ben. You couldn’t bring him in and have him running around the office while you were trying to convince a major investor to give you the money promised. “I have to find a babysitter but I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you sigh, wracking your brain as to who would be free. Rachel couldn’t typically do weekends, but maybe she could if you promised to pay her extra? But then there was the issue of: did you have the money to pay her extra?

You start scrolling through your contacts, trying to figure out if anyone in there would be able to watch your son, running into your room to get changed to look at least a little presentable.

Trent’s name pops up, calling you with what you hoped would be somewhat perfect timing. “Hey, babe, what’s up?” you answer, your phone on your bed as you try to find something to wear.

“What am I looking at?”

“I’m changing for work and my phone is on my bed, so the ceiling.”

“I thought it was your day off?” he asks as you throw what seemed to be the only clean work shirt that you could find. You knew you were forgetting to do something today, now you realized it was laundry.

“Molly called saying that I need to go in and now I have to find someone to watch Ben or else I’m going to have to bring him in with me, which doesn’t seem like a good idea. And most of my friends are from work or have their own lives and can’t watch him, Rachel can’t do weekends, but I guess I could ask her if she has any friends who could watch him last minute.”

“Y/N.”

“But then I have to pay them and since it’s so last minute I would need to give them more money, right?”

“Y/N.”

“I guess I could, but I think I would also have to pay for meals, and then I have no idea what time I’m going to get home, and whenever that is I’m going to have to do laundry, and-”

“Hey. Earth to Y/N. I can watch him,” Trent finally cuts you off long enough to get a word in.

You were hesitant; Trent had never been left alone with Ben, and probably never left alone with a four-year-old ever by your assumptions. “No, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” you tell him, picking up your phone to see him.

“I’m serious! You just said you need a babysitter, I was going to ask if I could come over and see you before the road trip, anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip. Did you trust Trent enough to let him watch and take care of Ben? If you could trust Rachel, a girl who still had a curfew and couldn’t even drive her friends in the same car as her, why couldn’t you trust your boyfriend?

“Of course!” he says, clearly getting up and walking around what you think was his apartment. “I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hangs up and leaves you to finish getting ready, hurrying through trying to make yourself look presentable and finding the stuff that you needed. You couldn’t find your work bag, or your computer, mentally cursing yourself for the one time you didn’t leave it in your closet like you normally did.

“Hey, Benny? Have you seen Mommy’s computer and bag?” you go into your living room to where you left Ben. He shakes his head, his overall attention not leaving whichever toy he was fixated on. “Great,” you mutter under your breath, trying to find it. “Ben, how about you and I play a game?” you ask him, getting down in front of him. “If you can help me find my blue bag and my computer, someone really special will come over tonight!”

Ben gets up and starts looking for you, hoping that you can find it before Trent actually gets to your place. “Mommy! I found it!” Ben comes running to you, your bag nearly as big as him as he struggles to carry it to you.

You take it from him, kissing his head as he goes running off, a knock at your door just in time. Opening it, you see Trent on the other side, a bag in his hand. Kissing him hello, you tell him, “I owe you big time.”

“We can discuss payment when you get home. And I have some ideas as to how you could pay me,” he says, bringing you in for a kiss.

“Trent!” Ben runs over, interrupting.

Trent practically launches himself off you, picking up Ben and hugging him while your son’s laughter and happiness fill your home. “Benny Bear!” He gives Ben the bag, telling him to open it.

“A bear!” Ben jumps up and down with the small stuffed animal that Trent had gotten him.

“What does a bear say?” Trent asks, both of them going, “grrrrr,” with their hands curled like claws, their faces scrunched. You felt yourself melting at the sight of Trent getting along so well with Ben, your son running around in circles with his new toy that he would probably say is his favorite since it came from Trent.

“Did you buy him a Benny Bear?” you gush, bringing him in for a hug.

“I saw it when I was on the road and had to get it for the little guy.��

“You love him,” you tell him, not needing to ask since you already knew what his answer would be if you did.

“Of course. But you have to get to work,” he tells you, pushing you off him.

“I’ll pay you for whatever you get for dinner, order what you want, within reason for him.”

“You don’t have to pay me back, and I’ll make sure to get him lots of candy,” he jokes, earning a look from you. “I’m joking,” he says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Go, go to work. I’ve got this.”

“If you need anything call me, or even one of the guys who have kids. If you trust them, I’ll trust them.” You kiss him again, yell goodbye to your son and remind him to behave for Trent. You were nervous about leaving Ben alone with him, but if you wanted to be serious about this guy, you had to do it at some point, right?

You close the door, leaving Ben and Trent alone on the other side as you try to think about how you and DeAndre can now keep your investors from pulling money, practically running down the hall so that you can get to your car.

Trent turns around, Ben already sitting back down on the floor and playing away with his toys. He had no idea how to watch a four-year-old. He takes in a deep breath, sitting on the ground with Ben, his back leaning up against your couch. “Alright, Benny, what do you want to do?”

Ben hands Trent a toy, starting to ramble on about whatever magical world he’s conjured up that Trent was no part of. He had no idea what he was doing, trying to follow along with your son’s imagination as best as he could.

Trent didn’t know how you did it. Ben was a ball of energy all the time, and at home seemed to be no exception. Trent was chasing him around as they played ‘Bear catcher,’ which Trent wasn’t really sure the rules of in the first place, just following around your four-year-old through your apartment while he sprinted, jumped, hid, crawled, and did every other action that Trent felt too old for.

Ben finally sits down and focuses on the tv when he hears some song coming from it, the first moments that Trent can sit down as well, hoisting himself onto the cushions. His phone starts buzzing, a call from Jack coming in. “Hey, what’s up?”

“What are you doing right now?” Jack’s voice comes through the phone as Ben gets up again, starting to run around with the bear Trent bought him.

“I’m watching Ben.”

“Since when are you a babysitter?” Jack asks, judgment dripping in his voice.

“Since Y/N needed a babysitter and I was free.” Ben climbs up on the couch and starts jumping, Trent suddenly feeling a wash of panic over him at the thought of Ben falling and getting hurt. Jack starts saying something that Trent knew he didn’t want to hear anyway, giving him the perfect excuse to cut him off. “Hey, Ben, you’ve gotta be careful. Sorry, dude, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

He hangs up before Jack can get another word in. “Hey, Benny. Mom said we could order dinner,” he says, pulling Ben into his lap in hopes that he would calm down long enough so he could talk to him. Ben squirms as his energy never seems to stop, Trent doing everything he can to try to figure this out. “What sounds good to you?”

“Ice cream!”

Trent lets out a small laugh, Ben’s face glowing at the thought of ice cream for dinner. “No, bud, you can’t have ice cream for dinner.”

“Ice cream! Ice cream!” Ben wriggles free of Trent’s grasp, repeating the phrase over and over again as he sets off running around again.

Trent was way in over his head. He didn’t think that Ben would have this much energy for this long. Whenever he was with you, it was either during the day and Ben stayed relatively calm, or when you were playing, he had you to help counteract and keep Ben from being the seemingly crazy child that he was right now. He could call you and ask what to do, but from how you sounded on the phone and when he came over, you were way too stressed out to also have to worry about Ben at that moment. He could call one of his teammates who actually knew what they were doing when it came to child care, but Jack’s words from the family skate practically haunted him. He wasn’t in too over his head when he was with you, or when he was with you and Ben. But just Ben? Not going too well.

“Benny Bear, come here,” Trent says, reaching out to catch Ben as he runs by the couch. “How about, we get something else to eat, and if you eat all of it, I’ll get you ice cream?” he asks, making a mental note to at least text you to ask if it was ok that he have it. Ben nods his head since Trent technically said he could have ice cream. “What do you want?”

“Mac and cheese!”

“What about,” he starts, pulling out his phone. “Some chicken fingers?” Something told him cheese and ice cream wasn’t going to end well for Ben’s stomach that night, and by default, it wasn’t going to end well for Trent, either.

Ben nods, going back off and running around the room. He had to tire out at some point, right?

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Trent calling you to make sure his dinner plans were ok.

“Hey, Ben said he wanted ice cream, but I told him only if he eats his dinner, and I had to make sure it was alright with you, first.”

“What did you settle on?”

“Chicken fingers?”

He hears someone calling your name in the background, you yelling something back to them in panic. “Yeah, there might be some in the freezer? If not, just tell him that the ice cream fairy is coming later and he can have it tomorrow, or something. There are also some carrots in the fridge, too. Tell him he has to eat some of those if he wants ice cream, even if I don’t have any. Have some with him, pretend they’re spaceships, and play with them before you eat them, that normally distracts him long enough.”

“That works?”

“Trent, he’s four. Most things like that do.” He hears more yelling from your end, Ben coming zooming by him yet again, nearly tripping over Trent’s feet. “I’ve gotta run. Love you, bye.”

You hang up before Trent can react. You hadn’t told each other that you loved the other yet. He knew he loved you, but he didn’t know if you loved him back. But you just said it, and he didn’t even know if you meant it since you said it in such a hurried context. He hoped you meant it. He can’t even focus while he’s ordering dinner, not really sure what he was having other than the carrots you mentioned were in the fridge.

Trent just sits there while he waits for the food to arrive, getting the carrots out and trying to see if there was anything close to ice cream, or even yogurt that he could throw in the freezer for Ben while he continues to zoom around your apartment. “Hey, Benny, look!” he says, holding up the carrots. “Spaceships!”

This felt like he was talking to a dog, which seemed weird, but at this rate, Ben was tiring him out so fast he didn’t know what to do. He and Ben start playing with the carrots, watching your son eat what was in front of him when the doorbell rang for food.

Ben keeps playing with food, something Trent thought you probably wouldn’t like too much, but at this point, he didn’t know if he should care. He had no idea how you did this. There was no way Ben had this much energy every night, right? He had never seen you exhausted, so Ben couldn’t be a ball of energy all the time. At least, that’s what he convinced himself as he sat there eating his food.

Eventually, Ben goes to sleep, Trent helping get him ready for bed and tucking him in. You had texted that you weren’t sure when you were going to be home, but Trent was free to stay the night instead of driving back home regardless of what time you would be back, something he gladly took you up on.

Trent finally settles down after finding a pair of sweats he left at your place a while ago, collapsing onto the couch in complete exhaustion from Ben’s running.

“Trent?” he hears Ben’s small voice coming from down the hall, pulling Trent away from the trance he fell in trying to stay awake until you got home. “Trent!”

He runs down the hall at the sound of the increased panic in your son’s voice, not sure what he was supposed to expect when he practically burst through his bedroom door. “Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Ben was breathing heavily when Trent got close to his bed, clutching his sheets to his chest, “I had a bad dream.”

Trent sits down on Ben’s bed, a sad smile on his face. “Ah, Benny, it’s all over now. You’re safe.” Ben nods his head, a terrified look still on his face. He pulls Ben in for a hug, kissing the top of his head, Ben’s small arms wrapping around Trent’s own. “How about I read you a story to help you fall asleep?”

Ben nods, jumping out of bed and getting a book for Trent. “Goodnight Lab?” Trent reads, a confused look on his face.

“Mommy likes science,” Ben offers as his explanation.

“Of course she does,” he says, opening the book, putting his arm around your son as Ben cuddles up against Trent’s chest. “In the great green lab, there was a laser, and a lab notebook, and a picture of Einstein with a stern look,” he starts, already seeing Ben’s eyes getting heavy.

You finally get back home, seeing the light on, no one in the living room. Wandering through your apartment, you hear Trent’s voice coming from Ben’s room, finding him there with your son, him asleep against Trent’s chest as he whispers the end of the book to him, “Goodnight liquid nitrogen, goodnight compressed air, goodnight scientists everywhere.”

You stand in the doorway, Trent not noticing you as he slips himself from Ben, your son curling up with his blankets. Trent bends down to kiss him on the head, tiptoeing out of the room.

“Hi,” you whisper, closing Ben’s door behind you, giving Trent a kiss hello. “What was that?”

“He had a nightmare, so I read him a story to calm him down and get him back to sleep,” he explains.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you tell him, leading him down the hall to your room.

He shrugs, closing the door behind you. “My mom used to do it for me and my siblings. I always told myself that I would do it for my son or daughter.” You don’t know what to say, just pulling him in for a kiss, down on your bed. He pulls away, a smile on his face, “Oh, and I love you too,” he tells you, hoping that Ben didn’t wake up and hear what you two were about to do next.

Sweet Emotion

“Happy birthday, Benny!” Trent says, taking a video of your son as he blew out the candle on the small cupcake in front of him. Your son’s fifth birthday was spent out with Trent, starting with him making breakfast again, taking the two of you to the park and Boston Commons as he played with Ben the entire time, out to dinner where you were now, treating you the entire way. Ben didn't even care about the gift that you had gotten from Andy, something he had previously looked forward to every year. Ben was starting to see Trent as a father figure, something that was both terrifying and exciting to you.

If Trent, for whatever reason, stopped wanting to be part of your life, that would mean he would also probably leave Ben’s, a boy who already didn’t know his father and didn’t seem to want to know him. But he wanted to know Trent, he loved Trent, and you knew Trent loved him, too. You were just afraid he would fall out of love.

Ben was giggling as Trent smashed part of the cupcake against his nose, the bright red frosting making him look like Rudolph as he tried, and failed, to lick it off himself.

“Did you get that part, too?” you ask Trent, leaning over to see his screen.

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you. Do you mind if I post it to my private story? Some of the guys and their wives would go crazy for this.”

“Only the private one,” you tell him, laughing as you turn to Ben to see his face more of a mess than before, the red frosting now spread to his cheeks, “Benny, what happened?”

“I’m painting,” he says, using his finger to smear the frosting on his face.

Trent can’t help but laugh, you pulling Ben in for a hug. Trent snaps a picture of you kissing the frosting off his face. “Wait a sec,” he says, calling over a waiter to take a picture of the three of you, both of you kissing Ben’s cheek as he beams at the camera.

You see him set his phone down, notifications lighting the screen up as you guys get ready to leave, the picture of the three of you his new phone background.

The next morning, Trent had morning skate before needing to get ready for their game that night. The last game before the All-Star Weekend marking the halfway point of the season was always both nerve-wracking and exciting, the hypothetical of ‘if the season ended today, would you be in or out of the playoffs?’ always on everyone’s mind even though it meant virtually nothing, but still wanting to stay at one of the top spots in the league regardless.

“Hey, what was with that story yesterday?” Jack asks him after practice.

“It was Ben’s birthday,” he shrugs.

“Isn’t it weird?” Zach asks. “She has a kid. She’s a mom. You aren’t a dad.”

“I never said I was his dad,” he defends himself, starting to take on a hostile tone.

“Well, you’re acting like his dad, aren’t you?”

Trent rolls his eyes as his only response. What was he supposed to do? Ignore that you have a child? Trent gets up to leave, Jack now standing in front of him to stop him.

“You’re with them all the time. You watch him when Y/N is busy. You brought them to family skate. You know his favorite toys, his favorite tv shows, you facetime them every night before the game because he’s going to be asleep by the time the game is over. You’re not his dad,” Jack lists to Trent, Trent getting more angry with every word that comes from his friend.

“What am I supposed to do? Pretend that Ben isn’t part of her life? Pretend that she has no kid? I can’t do that. I don’t want to do that.”

“It’s messing with you, Trent!” Jack yells, the rest of the remaining guys getting quiet. “You don’t do this. You don’t date a girl who has a child and play ‘house’ with her. You’re the guy who just fucks around and has fun. Where did he go?”

“I can’t change? I can’t settle down because I wasn’t settled before?” Trent responds, knowing that his face was bright red, “I love Y/N, and I love Ben. I don’t care if you think it’s ‘not normal.’ It’s what I want and you don’t really get a say in that.” Jack stands there, stunned by his friends' words, still struggling to find them as Trent grabs his bag and walks out of the room to go home before the game.

He wanted to call you and talk about it with you, but what was he going to say? ‘The guys think my dating you is weird since you have a son?’ The flash of your expression appeared in his mind when you realized the guys didn’t know about Ben at family skate, the pain he knew you felt when you thought he was ashamed of Ben. He wasn’t then and he isn’t now.

But what was he doing? Jack was right: he wasn’t Ben’s dad. He could never really be Ben’s dad. Why did your son mean so much to him if he had no relation to the child in the first place?

Why did he have to say he was all in? He was supposed to be focusing on himself and his hockey, not a girl he met at a bar and pouring all his excess energy into you and your son. What was he supposed to do? Pull back? Pull you away from your son? There was no way that was going to be an option, and there was no way that was an option he wanted to follow.

He was supposed to be following his normal pre-game traditions and routines, not having his mind run rampant over the thought of you and Ben and what his teammates think.

He pulls out his phone, a notification from Instagram telling him that you had responded to his story a few hours ago while he was at practice. Trent opens it, seeing the picture of Ben, looking so happy with the cupcake that was all his, the red frosting seconds from being smeared all over his face. Trent didn’t think about being a dad anytime soon. He really never had any intention of settling down, at least not yet, not seriously, yet there he was, thinking of Ben like his own son, head over heels for you and your son.

It was too much, wasn’t it?

His phone started buzzing with texts from the guys to make sure that he was ok after they watched his and Jack’s blow up in the locker room. Trent didn’t even care about them at this point, knowing that he should at least answer them even just to tell them to leave him alone for the time being.

But what if they were right? Jack’s words kept ringing through his head, that he was just a guy who had fun because that’s what he wanted, not a guy who settled down with a girlfriend, and especially not a guy who settled down with a girl who had a toddler.

He spent the entire time he was supposed to be taking a nap going back and forth between whether or not he was in too deep or if he was fine because he was in love. The night he met you, he had never intended to get this far in with you. He had just wanted to hook up, the reason he went home with you in the first place. But as soon as you told him about Ben, seeing the crushed look on your face at the prospect of him leaving because of your son, he knew that he couldn’t just be one and done. There was something about you and Ben that he had to be part of it once he was introduced, that part of his life that he never knew was missing until he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you.

And it was just too much.

Attitude Adjustment

Trent finally gets to the Garden, not even remembering who they were playing that night. He couldn’t think about anyone else, almost tempted to tell Bruce that he was sick so he could be a late scratch instead of letting this mess with him. Because no matter what he did, he couldn’t get out of his head and focus. The music that he normally played before a game wasn’t working, even so much as trying to close his eyes and picture being on the ice while he was in the locker room before the game.

No one approached him while he was in his stall, probably out of fear of another outburst from him. He wasn’t even paying attention when Bergeron gave his traditional pre-game motivational speech before they all went out to the ice, Trent skating around by himself in hopes of being able to focus before they played the Flames that night.

“Alright, what’s going on?” he hears someone say, not even noticing who came up to him in the first place.

He looks at Brad, suddenly thankful that there was someone on the team who knew what he was going through. “Katrina already had Sloane when you two met, right?”

“Y/N and Ben on your mind?”

“You were in the locker room after practice.”

The two of them skate around their half of the ice, the time before the game ticking down. “When you date a woman, when any two people date, there’s always going to be something that can get in the way and potentially break you up. That includes their family, their kids if they have them. You need to decide if you want to let Ben break you and Y/N up or if you’re going to take him in and not let him do that.”

The guys were migrating back to the bench, Brad still on the ice for the starting lineup. “It worked for you, though,” Trent says, hanging back as long as he could, his eyes darting back and forth between the clock and his teammate.

Brad shrugs, looking out to the blue line where Bergeron and Pastrnak were already waiting. “I don’t see Sloane as any less of my son than I see Sawyer as my daughter. It worked for me. If you want it to work for you, then you have to make it work.”

The buzzer sounds, Bruce yelling for Trent to get off the ice and onto the bench. Did he want this to work with you and Ben? What the three of you had was already great, but Trent had barely spent any time with you, a time when you and he could just be a couple without worry of anyone else.

Trent’s line goes out on the ice, his mind still occupied as he skates. The puck touches his stick, him making a mad dash towards the Flames net, only to get tangled up with Tkachuk, sending Trent to the ice. He doesn’t get up for a minute, trying to process what happened, an easy shot and probably goal just messed up, leading to a breakaway to the other end to put the Flames up 1-0 against the Bruins.

By the time he can finally get himself up, Bruce is yelling at him that if he messes up like that again then he’s benched the rest of the game, definitely not a good look going into the All-Star break. He gets back out on the ice, the same thing happening with him tripping on a breakaway, this time over himself instead of a Flame, again leading to them scoring and putting them up 2-0. He couldn’t get out of his head. Trent sat there the entire time, not even focusing on the game, not focusing on the comeback his own team had to win the game 4-3.

He didn’t talk to anyone in the locker room, rushing out as soon as he could to go home, hearing Brad’s voice carry through the hallway to the elevators as he explained what he knew about the situation, no doubt that Jack offered his own remarks that Trent was sure would have lead to them fighting right there.

He had never wanted to fight one of his teammates over shit they said before, let alone one of his best friends. Other guys on other teams? Sure. But Jack?

Trent gets into his car, his phone already blowing up, asking him if he had still wanted to come on the trip to Puerto Rico he and the guys had planned with their girlfriends a while back. He had completely forgotten about the trip, no one even mentioning it for the longest time, not even sure that it was actually booked by anyone.

What surprised him most was Jack asking in the group if you were going to come with them, followed by a separate text saying that he meant it, that he wanted you to come.

Maybe this is what you and Trent needed; a trip with the guys, the two of you able to spend some time alone and just be with each other without the constant worry of someone or something else. He texted back that he would be there, not sure about you yet.

“Hello?” you answer your phone, Ben’s coming through the background. Hearing him made Trent hesitate, swallowing hard.”Trent?”

“Yeah, uh,” he swallows again, “Sorry, um, mind if I stop by for a few minutes?”

You sit up from the couch, looking at the mess you didn’t even realize Ben had created during the game. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you soon?” you say, hearing him start up his car.

“Yeah, awesome,” he says, hanging up before either of you could say anything else, practically speeding out of the Garden as fast as he could to get to you. The more he thought about it, the more excited he was about spending a week with you.

“Hey, Benny, guess who’s coming over soon?” you put on a cheery voice, crouching down to the floor where Ben was playing with his toys.

Your toddler started bouncing up and down, his arms waving around in excitement. “Trent?” he squeals.

“He should be here any minute, help me pick up some of your toys, ok?”

You and Ben start to scramble to pick everything up. You knew Trent wouldn’t normally care if there were toys on the ground, but there was something about the tone of his voice when he called to tell you that he was stopping by that worried you.

You had watched the game, you weren’t stupid that he had had an awful game, thankful that it was an earlier evening game that Ben could watch with you. Even he was upset when Trent fell, both times, getting benched and hearing Jack and Brick speculate what was up with one of their favorite players.

Ben continued to buzz around as you waited, thankful that he couldn’t sense the anxiety that was building up while waiting for Trent. You hear him knocking on the door, getting up while Ben seems to be oblivious to the sound. You smile when you see him, mirroring his own expression, the complete opposite of what you expected given the conversation you had minutes ago.

“I have something to ask you,” he starts, his hands on your waist as he starts walking you backward down the hall, seemingly toward your bedroom.

“Trent! Trent!” Ben comes up to the two of you, bouncing up and down, Trent's hands releasing their grip on you. “Are you coming on Friday?” Ben asks him, referencing his concert at school that Trent had promised to come to.

You saw the smile on Trent’s face fade at Ben’s words, a nervous look taking over as he knelt down to look Ben in the eye. “I really want to see your concert, buddy, but I’m not sure if I can make it. I’m gonna try, though, ok?” he tries to save face when he sees the crushed look on your son’s face.

Ben nods, not understanding what Trent was really saying to him. In his world, Trent saying he wasn’t sure meant he didn’t want to see him sing with his other classmates. “Um, Ben, why don’t you go play in your room for a little bit, ok?” you ask him, guiding him to his room, watching him run down the hall. You turn to your boyfriend, clearly confused by what he just told Ben. “It’s the All-Star break, what came up?”

“The guys and I are going away for the break, and I want you to come with me.”

“What are you talking about? You said you were staying here?” you ask him, praying that Ben doesn’t come out of his room and couldn’t hear any of this.

“I know, I know, but, come on, things change,” he says, taking your hand and trying to lead back down your hallway.

“Wait, Trent, come on,” you stop him, turning him around to face you. “You want Ben and I to come with you on a trip with the guys? What guys, where are you going?”

His expression drops again, “I was kinda hoping it would just be me and you.”

“And where would Ben be? I can’t just leave him alone. I can’t go away with you.”

“But, Y/N, come on,” he whines. “This could be so good for us. A few days, just you and me, no distractions, nothing stopping us from just being together, like a real couple.”

“Distractions? A real couple? Trent, what the,” you stop, realizing you were standing right outside of Ben’s door. You look between Trent and the door, Trent’s pleading expression as you take him down the hall, practically slamming the door to your own bedroom. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you hiss.

He sits on your bed, you still standing, towering over him. He puts his hands in his face, letting out a deep breath. “I’m,” he starts, “I just want time where it’s you and me. Other than that night at the bar, we almost never have had more than a few hours when you and I are alone. I need to get out of Boston for a bit, and I don’t want anyone with me beside you.”

“Trent, I can’t,” you protest, sitting down next to him.

“Yes, please, just say, yes.”

“No, Trent. You aren’t hearing what I’m saying.”

“I am, I just-”

“Ok, then you aren’t listening! I can’t just drop everything on a moment’s notice and go off with you on a vacation. I have a kid, and if you haven’t noticed, I can’t exactly afford a babysitter for more than two nights in a row, let alone watching him all day every day for an entire week.”

“Don’t worry, I can pay for one, I just need to get out of here, and I need you with me.”

“Trent, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Ben can stay with a sitter.”

“Don’t you get it? Ben comes first. Ben has to come first. When it comes to a decision between you and Ben, or anyone and Ben, my choice is always Ben. There is never a case when I’ll pick something or someone over him, especially not going on some trip with you and your frat boy-like teammates because you’re upset you had one bad game. I choose him every single time. Especially over you, Trent.”

“What about Ben’s father? Can’t he stay with Andy?”

You can’t help but gasp, hurt by what you thought Trent meant. “You mean the father that didn’t want him? I. Told you. This,” you say, standing up again, “Andy wants nothing to do with Ben. And right now it seems like neither do you.” You could feel the tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, turning around and heading out of your room. You couldn’t look at him. You had no idea where you were going to go, given that you had Ben in his room and couldn’t leave him.

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry,” he runs after you, stopping you before you reached the door. “I just want a few days, where it’s you and me. Where everything is easy for us. Where there’s nothing, no one, besides you and me.”

“This isn’t supposed to be easy. You knew it wasn’t going to be so why are you so shocked that this is how it is?” you tell him, the tears finally falling.

The two of you stand there for a minute, Trent starting to reach for you a few times before running his hands through his hair. “It’s me and Ben, or neither of us,” you give him an ultimatum. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, wishing he can find the words. “Fine. If you can’t make the decision, I will. Get out.”

“Y/N, come on.”

“No. If you have to think about it, then you aren’t ‘all in,’” you call back to the morning after you two met. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t have to think about it.”

Trent doesn’t say another word, pushing past you and leaving you there.

You press your back against the door, letting out a silent sob so that Ben can’t hear you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, wiping the tears from your face and peeling yourself off the door. You walk down the hall, hoping that Ben wouldn’t notice the redness that was probably in your eyes from crying, opening his door.

“Where’s Trent?” Ben asked, handing you a toy of his when you sit down on his floor with him.

You swallow hard, not sure what to really tell him. “He had to go, Benny,” you say, running your hand on his hair, pulling him close to kiss the top of his head.

“When’s he coming back, Mommy?”

You put on a fake smile for him, not wanting to let him know when you really thought Trent would be back. “I don’t know, sweetie. Not this week.”

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing

You hadn’t checked anyone’s story on Instagram since last night, sitting on the metal chairs in the middle of the day, surrounded by parents much older than you, figuring now was probably the only time you hate the chance.

You tap through them, some stories from friends from college, random celebrities that you followed. You finally get to Jack’s story from last night. They were in Puerto Rico, in some dark restaurant. Zach and Jeremy were dancing, Jack behind the camera. In the corner, you could see Trent sitting at a table, looking miserable. He sees Jack with his camera, shakes his head and storms off. You replay the story, Jack’s shaking making you think that he was saying something and turning the sound on low, holding the phone to your ear. You could hear the music more than anything else, sounds of Zach, Jeremy, and Jack’s laughter breaking through after one of them said something inaudible. Trent must have gotten up at that point, because you hear Jack yell, “Oh, Trent! Come on, man! Have some fun!”

You go to Trent’s profile, hoping that he had posted anything. The last photo he has posted was of the two of you, him strategically cropping out Ben because you had asked him to. It was from Ben’s birthday, outside the restaurant. He had captioned it, ‘Spent the day with my two favorite people, Bear not shown.’

Ben’s preschool teacher gets up on the stage, the high-pitched whispers of the four- and five-year-olds starting by the back door as Ms. Barry introduces the class, all of them walking up in a line to the stage. They start waving to their parents, Ben waving to you as everyone, including you, has their phone out waving back and recording the moment. The children start singing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ their pixie-like voices filling the auditorium, all slightly out of key and slightly out of sync with each other. Towards the end of the song, you notice Ben starting to jump up and down, anxious over something he saw towards the back of the auditorium, as did some of the other children. You figured it was nothing, none of the other parents turning around to look at what it was either.

They go onto their next song, one you weren’t paying attention to, nor did you recognize it. Ben was no less antsy than he was before, waving again with the biggest smile on his face. It had to be someone.

You turn around, Trent leaning against the back wall, one hand in his pocket while the other was waving to Ben. All of his attention was on Ben. You turn back in your seat, shocked that he was there. He was supposed to be in Puerto Rico.

You put your bag on the seat, the mom next to you promising to watch it. You sneak back to Trent, not sure what to say to him. You turn to Ben, giving him the thumbs up and a single finger to tell him that you were going to be back in a second, feeling bad that you were leaving your so. Ben jumps up and down, nodding and continuing to sing.

You grab Trent, pulling him out of the room and into the small hallway. “What are you doing here? You were in Puerto Rico last night; I saw you on Jack’s story.”

He looks down at his feet, biting his bottom lip. “I couldn’t be there knowing you and Ben were here.”

“That’s not what you said when you wanted to go.”

He nods, looking up at you for a second before his eyes flick back down to his feet. “I told you I was dumb.”

“So why are you here then?”

“I told you when we first met that I was all in. I can’t be all in if I’m not here.”

“So?”

He takes a step closer to you, hesitating for a moment. “So. I don’t want to miss anything with you, or with Ben.” You don’t know what came over you, kissing him outside your son’s concert the way you did. You can hear the parents start to cheer, signaling that the concert was finished. Trent pulls away, your foreheads pressed against each other. He smiles before stealing a kiss again, pulling you back inside.

Ben comes running up to you, giggling with his arms open. “Trent!”

“Benny Bear!” he responds, crouching down with his arms open, hugging Ben when he came in contact. He picks him up, kissing him on the cheek, your hand on Trent’s back.

“You came! You’re back!” Ben squeals, burying his face in Trent’s shoulder.

“Back and here to stay,” he says to you, giving you a quick kiss before putting Ben down, getting your bag, and going home.

[verdantmoontruther]

the anti-bkdk ramble that turned into an anti-internet ramble

i’m not like the biggest or most present bnha fan on here (i’m more about naruto personally) and i know this point has been discussed to death within the more intellectually capable circles of the fanbase, but i think we should really talk about the hypocrisy of people that excuse or ‘forgive’ bakugou’s behaviour for whatever purpose they come up with, whether it be shipping or ‘bc he’s hot’ or whatnot.

the tl;dr of what i want to say: bakugou and midoriya do not like each other. there is no evidence for that in the books or otherwise. it is unwise to view their genuine dislike as unresolved sexual tension because injecting a sexual component into bakugou’s decade-long antipathy makes for a much, much scarier bullying scenario. also, please touch grass and get a hobby outside of media consumption; i make friendship bracelets and photograph graffiti around my town. it’s very fun. take a break from the online world.

first things first: i UNDERSTAND, fully and wholeheartedly, the desire to see a queer enemies-to-lovers relationship happen in mainstream media. i may be young enough to be on the cusp between gen z and millennial, but i’m also old enough to remember when homosexuality was the weird joke paraded out on late night telly to explain a man’s bizarre behaviour, or be the shitty punchline to an equally unfunny joke. i remember feeling young and disgusted, young and scared, young and hopeless when i thought that we would never see anything remotely resembling a healthy gay relationship on tv. i didn’t even think legalised gay marriage is something that would be won in my youth. but you’re going about it the wrong way.

bakugou bullied midoriya for a long time. that is an immutable fact, and a very important aspect of both of their identities. in their childhoods, bakugou cemented midoriya into a victim role by singling him out and tormenting him. it’s important for some of you to understand that you can’t come back from that. whatever relationship they may have in the future will forever be tainted by the fact that, when bakugou knew he had the upper hand physically over midoriya, he chose to ridicule, belittle, and hurt him, and was never told by those around him that he may have been wrong for it.

it bothers me to no end that the people who will recognise how well the bnha universe fits as an allegory to the treatment of disabled people in society - which is, in my opinion, a completely astute and intelligent observation - will fail to see bakugou’s treatment of midoriya in their formative years as not abusive or ableist, but criticise a character because they said something demeaning about the quirkless population. it’s interesting because the allegory only extends to the characters and actions that are easily dealt with (cancelling a minor character for their words is very easy), but as soon as you raise the issue of physically, emotionally, and mentally abusing someone for their disability, it gets wishy washy because that’s their favourite character that we’re accusing of unsavoury behaviours. it begs the question - do you actually give a shit at all?

the reason i raise this is because fiction directly translates to real life. the things an author, screenwriter, or mangaka write about and the perspective they write about it from effect our view of ourselves and other people, especially in an industry aimed at, and mostly consumed by, the youth. that’s why i discussed what i did in the second paragraph - representation is important because it makes people feel more comfortable in their skin. and i can understand why you crave seeing yourself depicted as the hero of a story. but it also means that bad interpretations can weasel their way into the malleable minds of the young people consuming these stories: think about everything jk rowling was cancelled for. her only irish character constantly blowing things up. hook-nosed elves in love with money. werewolves preying on young boys as a metaphor for the aids epidemic.

i can’t blame horikoshi for the way that people infer his writing because there is absolutely no evidence in his writing that bakugou and midoriya harbour romantic feelings for each other, but i do know where this sentiment comes from: you kids are grasping at straws, wanting to make genuinely antagonistic characters into some sort of star-crossed romance because this is your first time being exposed to fighty blowy uppy shounen that doesn’t give a shit about love, and it worries me, because it means you begin romanticising all the wrong behaviours. if i was reading half the shit you guys like about the mythical bkdk dynamic in an actual book, it’d be raising red flags immediately. no communication. possessiveness. jealousy. entitlement. belittling. taking out their anger on each other. i’m concerned for you lot.

some of you aren’t going to like hearing this, but i think the reason we are seeing such a strong insurgence of the romanticisation of such an unhealthy relationship dynamic, apart from representation, is because being bombarded by so many stories and headlines and works in a day due to the internet has desensitised us to a lot of things. you look at a news headline about a bombing or a murder and you don’t feel anything anymore. same thing with fiction: ten years of bullying, when you have nothing from your own personal life to compare it to, doesn’t sound that bad. someone telling you to kill yourself gets brushed off like water off a duck’s back because everyone tells everyone to kts these days. having no friends is normalised because all of us people online are ‘depressed and anxious uwu no fwends’. in order to get a real hit right in the gut you need something that takes the word angst and amplifies it by a scale factor of seven million. in a culture that sensationalises pain and is devoid of empathy, midoriya’s situation is just not enough anymore.

once again idk if any of this made sense. i write what i think and if it comes out like a jumble of random letters then oh well.

[chilly-me-softly]

Are u going to do a part 3 to the chilly fic its so good <3

Part 1 - Part 2

"I did something stupid" you announce as soon as Mason opens the door to his house, walking in and heading for the living room as if you were at your house.

"You? When have you ever done that in your life" the boy rolls his eyes sarcastically as you glare at him. "This is no time for jokes Mason"

"Okay come here" he claps a hand on the couch after sitting down, inviting you to sit next to him so you don't go back and forth, "What happened"

"Do you promise not to judge?"

"Hmm no but I'm listening" he retorts immediately and a groan escapes your lips as you lower your head and start to doubt at that very moment that that is the right thing to do. But if you don't tell someone, if you don't open up to him, you're gonna go crazy. So you take a deep breath and do your best not to look at him.

"Do you remember how Ben helped me that day? Well I wanted to thank him so I brought him a cake"

"Okay" Mason states looking suddenly curious as to where this is going.

"I just- I used a big plate hoping he might bring it back. But he didn't! Ugh why am I so stupid" it takes him a few seconds to realize the meaning of your words, his body straightening up at the revelation while yours almost wants to get swallowed up by the couch in embarrassment.

"You like Ben? Since when?" but still, his tone isn't judgmental, if anything curious and shocked.

"Mase"

"What? You guys are always fighti- oh"

"What oh" you look at your friend lost as he seems to be lost somewhere in his memory before returning to look at you turning slightly towards you.

"Of course! How the fuck did I miss that" he murmurs, "you acted the same way with Tim Reese when we were sixteen"

"Okay first how do you still remember Tim and second what are you talking about?!" you ask somewhat shocked as he smiles mischievously ready to strike. Oh you knew it wasn't a good idea.

"You were always nervous when it came to him and then when he got close to you you became this impassable fortress of coldness and sarcasm. The poor guy had to sweat to even get a kiss"

"That's not true" you try to defend yourself in vain.

"I might be a little offended you know, you didn't even have a little crush on me"

"Please, you're like my brother ew" you wince as he laughs shaking his head.

"So that's how it is today, it all ends over a plate?"

"It was an excuse Mase" you roll your eyes, "if he wanted to see me again he'd know how to hook me up" in short you had even sent each other a few messages, just to test the waters not knowing how far you could go at the time. But your relationship had never been just about the two of you and there was always that fear of ruining that little step forward lurking.

"Maybe who knows, he needs some kind of push too. Ben isn't the cocky guy he wants to appear after all"

"You know something I don't Mase" you look at him inspectively, him raising an eyebrow. "I won't say anything about him if I can't do otherwise"

"No mh-mh forget it" you shake your head firmly, Mason could talk to you about Ben all he wanted no one would know and you still knew how to handle a rejection by acting like nothing happened. But Ben knowing about your feelings and not returning them... no thanks, you didn't need any more embarrassment in your life to deal with.

"Well then you'll never know what he thinks of you"

"What's he even supposed to think, that I'm a crazy person who always has a say in everything and out of pity helped when I was sick" you shrug as he smiles knowingly, he's never going to tell you how worried his friend seemed in the days following your illness or how he was trying to find out something under the radar. Not if he can't tell him that he might find the door open if he wants to join your world. But as sure as hell he would have done something.

-

You correct yourself. That's the moment you know it wasn't a good idea to tell Mase.

He had asked you a couple of times if you were going to watch the game that saturday, he always did that when there were tough games because he said you were his good luck charm even though it wasn't true and most of the time they won or lost regardless of your presence. However, you had already cleared your whole schedule for that day and so he had extended the invitation to a drink after the game.

Nobody had lost, nobody had won. There was regret for a few wasted chances, but nothing that couldn't spur them on to do better the next game. You'd driven to the stadium in your car, not wanting to wait for Mason after the last time he'd made you wait over an hour outside, having him tell you where he wanted to go after the game and waiting for him there.

The place isn't that crowded and you can occupy a table further away, ordering something while you wait and taking the book out of your bag while resuming your reading.

"Hi" a voice makes you shift your gaze from those pages and you're bewildered to see Ben take a seat in front of you.

"Hi Ben"

"Mase said he'd meet us in a bit, he had something to do" the boy shrugs, "but I'm certainly not going to wait for him to order"

"Go ahead, I've already helped myself" you place the bookmark on the page you are on then put it in your bag and before you can let your eyes rest on Ben again, your phone alerts you to the arrival of a new message.

As soon as you see that it's Mason you get a bad feeling, and as soon as you open your conversation you see that he has sent you a picture of a diner where he is with some of the other guys. And it's definitely not the one you and his teammate are in.

"Son of a bitch"

"What?" Ben's voice makes you raise your head in alarm, suddenly you feel nervous and you want to strangle your friend and you want to bury yourself because what are you gonna do now. All while he looks at you expectantly.

"Um eh I- that wasn't meant for you" you murmur pathetically sighing and handing him your phone, "Mason's not coming"

"I don't understand" Ben looks at that picture with furrowed brows, but you can't read his expression.

"Look I'm sorry he set you up for this really. Um we can go and pretend like nothing happened" you stammer trying to pick up your bag and jacket deliberately trying not to look him in the eye and you try to get up but he stops you.

"Woah hey wait, wait. I'm not letting you go anywhere so upset" he is quick to grab the chair and move closer to you, if he wanted to calm you down he certainly isn't succeeding like this.

"Easy now, just try to explain what's going on please"

"Ben really it's not- it's just Mason okay? I just need to beat him up and then I'll be better" a soft laugh escapes his lips and you find yourself huffing but giggling at the same time.

"Nothing wrong with that. Just answer one of my questions first?" you nod losing focus for a moment as one of his thumbs starts stroking the back of your hand.

"He tried to set us up"

"Is that a question?" you ask struggling to swallow, your voice coming out weak and shaky. What's going on?

He shakes his head slightly, "Do you like me? That's my question" and if before it was difficult to find air now it seems like everything has closed for good. There you go, is that how you're going to die? In front of Ben of all people, and still before you can get revenge on Mason for that low blow?

"Cause Mason probably knows I fancy you-"

"You what?" you croak.

"-but he wouldn't have done that if he didn't know something else" his cheeks are slightly red, so he's feeling all that sudden heat too then!

"Ben I..."

"It's okay, it's okay. Look we're in the same boat here, if anything I'm a lot more exposed than you are at the moment because I've revealed to you how I feel and you haven't really let me know that I haven't really fucked up"

"No!" instinctively you lean forward and you don't know why you actually did it, but the sound of your foreheads colliding together resonates loudly. "Ouch I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh my god are you okay?" geez you feel so stupid, embarrassed like a teenager struggling with her first crush and as clumsy as you've ever been... or don't like to remember.

"I've taken worse balls" he tries to lighten the situation but your now worried look doesn't seem to want to give way to anything else as you gently test his forehead.

"What do you say we get out of here? Maybe somewhere less crowded?"

"Yes please" you find yourself nodding and after paying quickly exit the building, Ben firmly takes your hand guiding you to the opposite side of your cars.

Neither of you speak on the way, you're lost in your head trying to calm yourself down to get your thoughts in order and not embarrass yourself further. He glances at you from time to time, what he is thinking you cannot know.

You arrive at the park and after a few more minutes of walking you sit down in a fairly secluded area except for a few people walking quietly on the stone path not far from you.

"You were pretty worked up in there" Ben breaks the silence.

"Being taken by surprise throws me off. Probably if I had known you were coming I would have been prepared, and imagined all the possible situations I might find myself in"

"Do you do this often? I mean do you never live in the moment?"

"Obviously I can't predict everything that's going to happen to me in a day, but the important things I like to know in advance so I can leave the anxiety at home and not risk headbutting people" a laugh breaks free in the air and when you look at him you feel lighter, nothing like the you of moments before.

"And to answer your question, yes I like you Ben. That day you helped me I think it helped me realise that"

"Funny, I realized it that day too"

"Sorry I must have looked like a weirdo" the awkwardness comes back overpowering again as he shakes his head moving closer to you some more.

"You were cute. Different from how you show yourself to others" you smile slightly dipping your teeth in your lower lip. "Now, do you still want to beat up Mase?"

"You betcha" you reply promptly causing him to laugh, "but not right now"

[cosmosrival]

Rico besides Kama what do you think about the other indian servants?????

AHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS GOING TO GET SOOOO LONG!!!! i have a different view of the indo fam as a whole. i call them the indo fam but i mean the found family trope!!!! theyre like a group of college students sharing a dorm if that makes sense, since their servant selves are obviously different from their initial myths/human vessels!!!

OK SO. RECENTLY, i have an oomf that found books about arjuna that summarize his exploits in the mahabharata(I DONT HAVE THE STRENGTH TO READ IT ALL IM SO SORRY) and also talk about him in a more philosphical manner such as his states of mind during each event etc and i’ve been meaning to read said book because im genuinely interested in arjuna now!!! and i’d like to know more about this indo prince because from what i’ve seen, he is portrayed in a rather bad light(?) in FGO which i find extremely !!!!!!!!!!! and incrdibley !!!!!!! strange !!!!!!! the mahabharata’s conflicts can be put in a mostly grey area where there’s no good nor bad, its not black and white. so seeing arjuna get bashed because of the way his conflict with karna was written is... hm. let’s say that im REALLY starting to understand arjuna fans that dislike seeing him get mischaracterized so much. OTHER THAN THAT, his design is adorable, his travel outfit is my favourite because he deserves to relax and have some fun!!! fgo making him a chuuni is cute and his VAs little moans are cute cute cute!!!!!!!!!!! (mash grabs my shoulder and forces me to sit down) i think that arjuna deserves better and im really happy to see him have fun in his travel costume voicelines. i think we should take arjun on a date!!! he’s a great lover, we’d have the best time!! OH ALSO, kama seeing him as the student council president in their interlude makes me SOOOOOOO HAPPY its unreal, i think it fits him very very well, the seitokaichou who was elected because of everyone’s hopes and recommended by teachers because he’s suuuch a good student but because of that, the pressure to be good is constantly towering over his head and everytime he looks out the window he wishes he could ditch class and skip a day just because he felt like going to the arcade and be a bad student.......just this once........i think hes very very cute...... i want him to cook for me. HAVE YO U READ HIS BOND 4 VOICELINE ?mmmmmggg i want him to get embarrassed everytime i praise him for having such a muscular waistline. AUG

ANEWAYS i also have quite the thoughts about karna, his characterization in the game is linked to arjuna’s and thats fine but i think that forgetting how much of a little sassy bastard he can get was a mistake! did you know that in apocrypha’s german dub on netflix, when jeanne calls his name like “You’re Karna, aren’t you ? The son of the Indian Sun God !” HES LIKE “So ?” AND THAT WAS SOOOO BITCHY OF HIM, i think that karna is a good boy in fgo but the fact that he was such a fighty old man in the mahabharata shouldnt be forgotten and is a charm trait. I MEAN ???? HE THREW HANDS WITH AN 18 YEAR OLD(ARJUN) WHILE BEIN LIKE... THIRTY TWO. WHATS WITH THIS ANNOYING OLD MAN !!!!! knowing these little facts about him made me like him so much more actually !! i think karna being so nice is adorable!! but the little bitchy energy u can find in his voicelines is also very charming!! i think karna looking at me emotionless as i ask him to lend me his notes for the nth time that week and then saying “...Mn.” when i thank him is cute!!! his voiceline towards things he dislikes is interesting to me. karna seeming aloof and mean bc he doesnt know how to communicate but is actually nice underneath...... hey... thats a little delinquentcore........ i wouldnt say yankii but hes like... hes like... u know hes the handsome quiet one of the group of yankiis... u know the one...? hey where are you going

ganesha is also a character im deeply interested in but i havent played CCC so i dont know that many details about jinako herself !! my brain goes HMMMMMM it seems lord ganesha is trans in fgo ! (since kama used to be a male god originally as well!!) ganesha uses all pronouns!!! and ganesha is also special to me because they share similar traits with kama when it comes to their characterization AND mischaracterizations. ganesha isnt JUST jinako. theres a part of a god in the servant mix!!! and jinako HERSELF is actually a pretty sad character imo. the whole otaku/neet thing is obviously a facade and her true wish being that she wants to redo her whole life is also proof of how much she hates what shes become, yet at the same time, she doesnt know what else she could do. but anyways, i prefer looking at servants from a lore POV so i think that ganesha should still be considered a god and be adressed as such!! i like seeing people portray ganesha as jinako but i prefer it when a certain lavish more godly side of them is put forward. a side of jinako that managed to move on a little bit if that makes sense ? that got more serious. and became someone else entierly despite sharing similarities. needless to say their bond with karna makes me happy since he shows them respect as you should towards a god!! its a bit different from their bond in CCC... like they matured somewhat!! anyway ganesha is the one who taught everyone else in the indo fam about video games and technology and i will NEVER shut up.

ashwatthama..... MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM %_’(’ç_”’è_ç(è_’”545656455456545453£¨¨µ¨µMµ¨++°=)=)°+ goodness. jesus christ on earth. my love story with him makes me so embarrassed. when he got revealed i instantly fell in love with him despite knowing JACK SHIT ABOUT HIM but since i was the only one in my friend group who was hardcore into fgo at the time, i kept my love for him to myself and just... (looks away)(i drop my wallet full of picturses of him) quietly adored his everything in silence. WELL, ree having an intense crush on yankii type characters isnt new, its been my favourite trope for ages (gyarus go in hand with them!!) and im still very attached to it so thats what made me love him in the first place!!!! BUT THEN. I GOT INTO HIS MAHABHARATAN LORE. And OHHHHHHHHH BABY.......... (im twirling my hair) so theres this 7ft tall war criminal..........<3<33<3(mash leans in and informs me that the convention of geneva didnt exist at the time) SO THERES THIS 7 FTTALL IMMORTALMAN.......<233 gOD he makes me absolutely CRAZY9909840385%£%%£%%µ%µ%µ the love i have for this character is immense and whenever im sad i remember that pako exists and has a tablet and can draw and i suddenly feel so much better. ok im gonna stop horny posting a little bit. but hes my wife. AND WHAT I LOVE ABOUT HIS PORTRAYAL IN FGO IS THAT, they actually made him a good boy despite his initial roughness and misdeeds ???!!! HELLO?? ashwatthama wishing for a redemption ark is my favourite thing and his righteousness that was born because of his regrets is a very interesting drivepoint to me !!! hes a gorgeous character and im buying a ticket plane as we speak right now so i can go find him in northern india. i’ll find him. GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME !!!!!GET OFF ME !!!

miss lakshimi makes me very sad! because every female servant in the indo fam is an already known face. (... would sita count.) and lakshi being a jeanneface is a waste. well, she’s still very pretty and her lore is also quite interesting!! i havent looked into it fully yet but i think she should be kissed on the mouth. her bad luck makes me slip on a banana peel whenevr i get close to her to kiss her and i hit my head on the pavement and pass away- 

parvati is on a tough spot for me atm. i genuinely love thinking of her as the way the indian goddess herself is portrayed because thats where the fun lies for me in her character. especially when shes involved with other indian servants, thats a given!! i would like to see parvati grow, suffer and heal. because branding her as an “all-knowing mom” is easy, but every single parent makes mistakes if you follow that logic. also, since shes the sakura servant “thats closest to her initial personality”, she’s got some of the most Repulsive fans ive Ever witnessed in fandom spaces and lets say that im trying to work my way out of this hellhole and find things to like about parvati without the fandom’s influence. needless to say, im going to keep looking into her mythos and her lore by myself at my own pace and keep doing my own thing in my little corner. 

rama shouldve been a jock. THE RAMAYANA IS OLDER THAN THE MAHABHARATA, WHY IS.....Hrm well him being summoned as his baby version gives me hope for a future rama alt perhaps??? but i think that he shouldve been a total jock and he shouldve been huge with a huge red lion-like mane for his hair and a teethy grin and big biceps and intense love for his wife. SPEAKING OF SITA, her charm point is her purity but i wish.... that their artist still hadnt drawn them like That, im not a fan of lily servants and i think purity = being young is a bit of an annoying excuse!!! rama and sita looking similar is because of their shared history which is fine but... rolls my eyes............. rama shouldve been 6ft tall and sita shouldve been a milf to match...... anyways i doubt ravana would be added as a servant but i’d love to have a ramayana centric event!! where all indo servants have their own lore centric role to play!!! oh thatd be a dream.... but i have learned to not expect much from a fanservice game so im jus gonna draw my own stuff! (strikes a pose!) (mashu claps!)

[justalittletomato]

Do you have any love interests in mind for the Lemon Trio? I kinda ship Ares with Sabine, tbh. They’d have this kinda fighty-flirty dynamic, with him being the gentle but snarky healer and her being the tough warrior woman who gets hurt as an excuse to hold hands with him.

Nothing concrete but that sounds like a really cool ship to have!

I more have this in mind:

Ares joins the rebellion as a medic and finds the sweetest fellow Medic who has no trouble taking someone down for medical care all while having the gentlest voice. Ares is just heart eyes 😍 over that. Sweet and can likely kick his butt? What more can he want? That and she looks over at him with a shy smile and asks for help. She’s a tad short.

Eris is I’m not sure at times I think she’d be the one more interested in Sabine? Maybe that one boy Wedge Antilles? Everyone just nodding along both are good choices.

Feral? Hmmm Imma be honest that boy took one look at that new recruit...Skywalker he thinks? and had been 😳 ever since...

[bug13underscore]

transmasc Luke anon - I was interested in the scene in which he goes to get the piercings and Reggie's there with him and holds his hand and Luke is like "I can totally do this on my own" while wincing and Reggie's all smiles like "I know you can, baby." anyway, Luke is 100% short-but-will-fight-you transmasc vibes and I love it

You’re correct about his vibes, we love a fighty-boy lol, and this was an amazing idea thank you so much for this Anon!! 

Small disclaimer, I’ve never had my nipples pierced or top surgery so this is all info I got from a few google searches soooo be warned 

“Sometimes it just feels like we’re the grey sisters.” Julie huffed, slamming her lunch tray down as she slid into the bench beside her girlfriends. 

“What the fuck is a grey sister?” Carrie raised an eyebrow, poking at her school lunch. 

“A group of three sisters in Greek mythology. They share one eyeball and one tooth between the three of them.” Julie rushed out, quickly digging into her food.

“Ew, why would you liken us to them?” Flynn whined, resting her head onto Carrie’s shoulder. 

“Cause it feels like we all get to share brain cells. Obviously there’s six of us, and usually us girls have them.” 

“Only usually?” Carrie laughed, elbowing Julie lightly. Before Julie could explain further, the other three of their group come slamming full-force into their lunch table, panting and wheezing. 

“Alex, inhaler.” Julie clicked her tongue, motioning for one of his boyfriends to get into his fanny pack. The two boys were quick to help him get it out, all slowly gaining their breath back. Julie used this moment to shoot her girlfriends a pointed look. 

“Reggie, explain.” Flynn leveled her gaze to the boy, knowing through practice that out of the three he’s more likely to give up the story. 

“We may have been making out in the janitors closet, and they may have walked in on us.”  

“Luke, excuse.” Carrie sighs, tiredly placing her hand against her forehead, the brunette letting his gaze drift towards his two boyfriends. 

“They’re just so cute! Look at their little faces, they just need to be kissed all the time.” The boy reasoned, his arms thrown out dramatically, as if showcasing valuable antiques to a buyer. 

“I don’t know who’s face you’re calling little, munchkin.” Alex snarked, reaching over to pinch Luke’s face. “We’re older than you, in case you need the reminder.” 

“Ow! Hey!” Luke pulled away from the blondes fingers, rubbing at the offended cheek. 

“Alex,” Reggie pouted, drawing Luke into his arms. Luke smirked triumphantly. “Leave our baby boy alone.” The smirk quickly left his lips, replaced with another pout as the group began to laugh around him. 

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, Molina. You’re the youngest here.” Luke snarked, reaching over to poke her nose. 

“Yeah, but I’m fine with being the baby, it just means you’re all suckered into my cuteness.” Julie laughed, swatting at his hand before poking his nose in retaliation. His hazel eyes lit up slightly, his gaze shifting to his boyfriends who were now in a conversation with Carrie and Flynn. 

“Suckered into cuteness you say?” 

Fuck, here we go, Julie thought to herself, what’s he gonna get himself into this time? 

~

Luke, much to Alex’s displeasure, was the only one of the boys who had a car. Luke and Alex both had their licenses, endlessly teasing Reggie about being the oldest without his, but they both knew why Reggie avoided getting one. 

This though, was Luke’s favorite part of the school days. Meeting his boyfriends at his car, getting to spend time with the two where they’re more alone than they are when they’re stuck in the school building. 

“I can’t hang out too long today, Moms still pissed that I skipped physics the other day.” Alex hummed, sliding into the backseat and allowing Reggie to take shotgun. 

“Lame.” Reggie hummed, pulling out Luke’s CD collection to shuffle through and decide on what disc today. “What’re we feeling today?” 

“Something soft?” Alex offered, grabbing his water bottle from his backpack as he took a sip. Luke hummed in agreement, noticing Alex’s slight nerves. Reggie nodded before picking out After Laughter for Alex. 

“It's cool if me and Reggie hang out after we drop you off then? Totally fine if not.” Luke shot him a wink through the rear view mirror as he pulled out of their schools parking lot. 

“Of course it’s fine,” Alex’s voice is soft as he reaches up to give Luke’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, doing the same to Reggie as well. “Just don’t do anything stupid, yeah?” 

“Of course not! We’re not idiots.” Reggie snorted, earning an eye roll from the blonde in the backseat. It’s just a few more minutes before they pull into Alex’s driveway, him only living a few minutes away from their school. Both of his boyfriends make sure to give him a kiss goodbye as he walks up the path to his house. 

As soon as Alex made it through, the door shutting behind him, Luke spun to Reggie with a wild look in his eyes. 

“I have the best idea.” 

~

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Reggie laced his fingers through Luke’s comfortingly. The brunette gives a sharp nod, sliding his phone into Reggie’s jacket pocket. 

“Totally. Doc gave me the green light.” Luke nodded, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself. “Besides, Alex is totally attracted to piercings so this is totally worth it.” 

“I know this, baby, but are you sure it’s something you want?” Their piercer looked between the two of them silently as they sanitized the needle and tools they’d be using. 

“Trust me, hun, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this piercing over the years.” Luke sent a wink to his boyfriend, squeezing his hand as he did so. 

The prepping for the piercing takes longer than the actual piercing, with how Blake, their piercer, insisted on talking with them to ease their nerves for a little while before they got into the piercing part. 

Reggie’s piercing was pretty quick, only getting his left nostril pierced. Luke’s fingers were threaded through his for comfort, although it wasn’t really needed. A little pinch and he was done. 

Luke’s in comparison took a little longer, given he was getting both nipples pierced and Blake had to adjust clamps on him to make the process a little faster and easier. 

As Luke sucked in a few shallow breaths he felt a hard squeeze on his hand, causing him to shift his gaze to his boyfriend. 

“I can totally do this on my own.” Luke forces out in a haughty tone, sucking in a breath as the first needle makes its way through the clamp. His grip on Reggie’s hand tightened, causing the leather clad boy to laugh. 

“I know you can, baby boy.” Reggie teased, giving his hand a gentle and loving squeeze back. “You’re the strongest person I know.” 

Luke shot him a dopey grin, wincing loudly as the second needle pierced his skin. Blake finished up, making sure to wipe at Luke’s piercing and handing them both instructions on how to properly clean their piercing, with notes of their gauge sizes and Blake’s email in case they had any further questions. 

They thanked Blake, following them back to the front of the shop. The couple paid, tipping Blake in the process with plenty of smiles and waves as they exited the shop.

The short walk to Luke’s car was silent, their hands intertwined once again. The brunette stopped Reggie before he could pull away and circle around to the passenger side. 

“Hey, thanks for that back there, it means a lot that you’d do this and say that for me.” 

“Of course, baby, it’s no problem.” The boy grinned at him, the new silver hoop in his nose catching the light. 

“No, no. Really, I don’t think anyone’s said that to me before.” Luke wanted to fold in on himself, not used to the nervous feeling that filled him. 

Reggie pulled the smaller boy into his arms, carefully avoiding getting too close to his chest, letting out a small laugh.

“I completely meant it, you’re definitely the strongest person I know. Well, maybe the mentally strongest I know? Alex does have to lug his drum kit around a lot.” 

“Shut up and get in before I leave you here.” Luke pushed away from him gently, a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. Reggie grins and gives him a mock salute before running around the car and climbing in. They begin their trek back to Luke’s house, the boy starling when they pull into the driveway. “Fuck.” 

“Fuck?” 

“I’m going to have to tell my parents about this so they don’t accidentally fuck up the piercings.”

“Fuck.” 

“We’re fucked.” 

“What do you mean we?” 

“Well I couldn’t have legally got this without you there, Mr. I’m-Eighteen-Now.” 

“Yeah, we’re fucked. Let’s hope they’re in a good mood.” 

“You go in first, they like you better.” 

It was obvious that Emily wasn’t pleased with this outcome, but she did ease up once Luke assured her that he had checked in with the doctor beforehand and once they promised—numerous times—that they had gone to a legitimate, well reviewed shop and that Blake had sanitized all of the equipment. 

Finally, after dinner and Emily’s many questions, Mitch being very quiet and mostly indifferent on the matter, the boys made their way to Luke’s room. 

“We’re skipping school in the morning because you’re gonna wake up whining in pain, I already know.” Reggie laughed as they changed into their pajamas. 

“I am so not going to do that!” 

“Luke, honey, baby boy, my love,” Reggie leveled a look to the boy, full of love and honesty. “You skipped an entire week of school when you broke your wrist plus an additional week when you finally managed to convince me to stay here with you. You already know Emily is calling us in tomorrow.” 

“Yeah okay.” Luke conceded after a few moments. “I’m going to whine because I can’t sleep on my stomach or be big spoon right now though, that’s the worst part of this all.” 

“We’ll figure it out.” Reggie grinned at him. “Shirtless for both of us, less of a chance for my shirt to catch, right?” 

“You’re a genius.” Luke grinned up at him. “You know that tomorrow when we do our prank, Alex is gonna find out and be pissed, right?” 

“Oh yeah, no for sure. Well just suck up to him after, it’s fine, he can’t stay mad at us for too long. Our puppy dog faces paired with our piercings are gonna win him over forever now.”

“These piercings just keep getting better and better.”

[shera-dnd]

A Day at a Time - Flirtation

I have a feeling y’all are gonna appreciate this one just from the title

Have some quality glitra content as we start making our way to angst glitradora end game

Also with a link to AO3 for those who prefer to read it over there

Catra had accepted the fact that Melog was trying to kill her at this point, because once more the little bastard dragged her through the building and straight to one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen, just so she could die of embarrassment.

“I’m fine.” Catra answered, trying to keep her cool considering everything that's happening right now. “My cat just decided to be a little bastard today.”

“You sure you don’t want any help?” The woman insisted. “I could hold your groceries for you, or your cat!” And as if he had somehow understood what had been said, Melog ran for the other woman and tried to climb her. She calmly picked him up, smiling at him as she did so. “Looks like they made the choice for you!”

Catra sighed, not wanting to bother yet another neighbour. “Thanks.” 

“So I’ve seen you around a lot,” She commented as she followed Catra back to her apartment. “Don’t think we ever talked though.”

“Yeah I didn’t want to bother you.” Catra shrugged. “You look pretty exhausted most of the time.”

“A shitty office job does that to you.” She commented, “And just a ‘hello’ every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” That would certainly make their random meetings in the hallway a lot less awkward. “I’m Catra by the way.”

“Glimmer,” She answered with a smile. “ Pleasure to meet you!”

Catra questioned what goes through a person’s mind to name their kid ‘Glimmer’, but the girl’s trans pride flower tattoo on her arm made it clear her parents probably had nothing to do with that name. That was not the only tattoo adorning her, as Glimmer’s body was almost entirely covered in them.

“And what is this little cutie’s name?” Glimmer asked as she petted the little creature, earning a pleased purr from Melog.

“Don’t encourage him,” Catra complained. “And his name is Melog.”

“I’m sure Melog just wanted to stretch his legs.” She commented, “Maybe he thought you needed to meet new people!”

“He could do that without making me run around like an idiot and annoy the neighbors.” Catra shot a death glare at her pet, who seemed completely unbothered.

“Well, I’m not annoyed.” Glimmer replied, defending the little cat. “He did give me an excuse to talk to a pretty girl.”

“What?” Catra did not expect that. Nor did she expect Melog to jump off of Glimmer’s arms and run back to his napping spot. She had been so distracted she hadn’t even noticed they arrived. “Thanks for the help.”

“No worries.” Glimmer waved off. Both of them stood in the corridor for a moment, waiting to see if the other would say anything. “I think I should get going.”

“Yeah… Wait!” Catra ran into her apartment, grabbed a little post it note and wrote on it quickly. She turned back to hand it to Glimmer, but she stopped herself and added a little smiling cat face to the note before doing so. “Here! It’s my phone number.”

“Oh just like that?” It was Glimmer’s turn to be surprised. “Not gonna keep your distance from the ‘weird pink bitch’?” 

“You seem nice and Melog likes you, so you can’t be a bad person.” Catra shrugged.

“‘Can’t be a bad person?’” Glimmer repeated and Catra worried it didn’t exactly come off as a compliment, but the ‘weird pink bitch’ smiled and answered “Thanks, Catra. Talk to you later.”

And with a smile and a wave, she was gone.

~~~

Unlike Catra, Glimmer hadn’t wasted a single second and started her just a few minutes later. Thankfully, baking required a lot of waiting, so she had plenty of time to just talk to her. ‘Hey, Glimmer’ she wrote, but hesitated before sending. Thinking back to the girl’s tattoos, she decided to change that text a bit. “Hey, Sparkles” much better.

“Is this about the star tattoos? Because if it is I’ll fight you.” Catra chuckled when she read that message. She would make fun of how feisty Glimmer was being, but she remembered she had said something similar to Adora the other day.

“You know where I live, Sparkles.” Catra sent, challenging Glimmer. The response took a while as the three dots kept showing up, disappearing and then showing up again.

“I won’t fight you, but only because I don’t want Melog to think I’m mean.” That earned a laugh from Catra.

“I’ll let him know that the weird pink bitch is a nice person.” She joked, but then got a little curious. “Where did that come from by the way?”

“You can thank my coworkers for that one.” Catra suspected something like that, but did raise another question.

“How the hell are you keeping an office job with multicolored hair and tattoos?” This was all relevant information in case Catra ever had to take an office job.

“They wanted to get rid of me, but there were no real rules about colorful hair and I dared their asses to fire the only queer woman working there because they didn’t like her look. Would love to see them trying to recover from that HR disaster.” Apparently Glimmer had a very ‘Fuck you. Fight me’ attitude about everything. “Also they don’t know about the tattoos, so I trust you to keep that secret.” She added, with a little winky face at the end.

She was halfway through writing a witty remark when her line of thought was interrupted by the smell of burning bread. She dropped her phone on the kitchen counter and scrambled to save what was left of her attempt at baking.

~~~

Friday night at the bar was going unusually slow. Catra wasn’t exactly worried about it, she was smart enough to save up some extra money in case she got too many slow shifts. Still, it wasn’t like anything could really bring her mood down right now.

These past two weeks talking to Glimmer and Adora every day had done wonders to improve her disposition, to the point even her boss noticed. Hordak found it all extremely suspicious as he had never been Catra this genuinely happy when she wasn’t up to something. Catra couldn’t exactly blame him for assuming shit, but it was still very rude.

It’s not like Catra was ever planning to introduce the two of them to her boss just to prove him wrong, but it looked like the universe had other plans, because she could see a familiar face approaching the counter.

“Hey, Sparkles.” Catra greeted. “Didn’t expect to see you here. You stalking me or something?” She joked.

“I guess it was a lucky accident.” Glimmer answered, with a strained smile, before taking a seat. “First lucky thing to happen to me today.”

“Shitty day at work?” She guessed.

“Worse,” She answered, pulling up the sleeves of her work clothes, revealing the myriad of tattoos that covered her arm. “My boss found the bar I like to relax at and I’m so not getting drunk in the same room as the asshole that’s been trying to fire me.”

“And this is what? The least shady bar you’ve found all night?” Glimmer nodded “Well, you’re in good hands now and I promise not to use any of your drunk ramblings against you in the future.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” She asked, earning Catra’s most innocent look. It wasn’t very convincing.

“I wonder,” She started, playfully “Do you get even more fighty when you’re drunk or are you one of those, ‘You know I’ve always thought of you as a friend’ kind of drunks?”

“Sorry, but I’m only planning on getting a little tipsy.” She explained, “And I’m a flirty drunk, thank you very much.”

“Damn it.” Catra faked annoyance. “Looks like I’m not finding out what that looks like.”

“Maybe some other time.” Glimmer offered.

“But now that you’re not flirting and you’re not gonna start an argument with someone, what are you going to do to pass the time?”

“Very funny.” Glimmer rolled her eyes. “I think I’m gonna relax with a friend and enjoy some good music. Mind making me a Bright Moon?”

“Ugh looks like you share my boss’s awful taste in music.” Catra complained as she started making her drink.

“What is wrong with Fright Zone? Their music is great!”

“Yeah. If you like listening to a sad emo boy groaning about losing his girlfriend.” Catra countered, having heard most their songs more times than she’d like.

“Okay fine, the lyrics aren’t all that great” She admitted “I could try to find something you and your boss would like. Maybe something by Sadie Killer or The Scream Queens.”

“I have no fucking clue what any of those bands sound like, but I like the names a lot more than ‘Fright Zone’.” She commented, placing the finished Bright Moon on the counter. “Here is your drink, Sparkles.”

“A pretty drink from a pretty girl. What else could I ask for?” Glimmer said with a smile.

“You sure you aren’t drunk already?”

“Maybe I’m always a little drunk.” Glimmer joked.

“That sure would explain things.” Catra teased, earning a playful death glare that she happily matched. They kept the stares going until they couldn’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing.

“You’re the worst.” Glimmer said when she finally stopped laughing.

“Hate you too, Sparkles.” She answered, with the biggest smile on her face.

And for the first time in a long time, she was genuinely happy.

[chiralcrystallization]

INTERACTIVE HEADCANON TIME: what’s everyone like drunk? I’ll go first: fragile is a fighty drunk. like straight up “I’ll kick anyone’s ass!!! ill kick your ass!! I’ll kick your bb’s ass!! I’ll kick my own ass!!!!” except she’s like 90 pounds soaking wet and has short lil t rex arms so Sam can just pick her up like a bad doggy when she gets punchy

ALLRIGHT HERE WE GO!!!I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT INTERACTIVE HEADCANON MEANS BUT I TRY MY BEST TO WRITE SOME SHIT OK? OK!!!

DEATH STRANDING DRUNKEN CAST HEADCANON !

SAM: We already know how sam acts being drunk....hes a godamn lightweight whos already wasted after three cans of casual beer...!!!! Sam only comunicates in weird Grumbles and his inner child breaks trough and shows his goofy sinde ANNOYING everyone arround him

(BB can tell you storys oh boi)

DEADMAN : Hes very Inexpierenced with alcohol and tends not to drink at all not knowing how is body might react on it and how much his second hand liver can take! But WHEN he gets drunk...he becomes the shy quiet type who looks silently into his glass looking over to his crush from time to time with blushed red cheeks.

CLIFF: He can drink a LOT!! as long its heavy booze like vodka and shit because as veteran you have a strong stomach and drink with your company ( a lot) ... But Wine is his weakness!! When he drinks a few glasses of Wine he starts to ramble and talk a lot.....! On one side, storys about his BB and acting like an proud dad, on the other side he unpacks old war stories and how he and his men risked their lives.

DIE-HARDMAN: Not the biggest fan of booze but he loves beer! from time to time he drinks champange on presidential parties, but when hes in private or with his friends he loves to crack open an cold one!! When he drinks to much, he has just two moods!!!!

1: he gets over confident and tends to run outside searching BTs to prove himself and what an great soilder he was!

2: he gets overemotional an starts to cry in a corner and mumbling about cliffand how much he loves him....even if hes sitting right next to him !!

MALOCKNE: Heavyweight as fuck! i mean...she drinks for two!!! But when she drinks to much she just gets tired and falls asleep on her chair. Usually shes the last of the group who still drinks and talks to herself dreaming with Mama about the moon.

AMELIE: Casual wine MOM..but holds herself back because she needs to protect her dignity!! so she only drinks on special events like John does... When she gets drunk shes the giggly type... grinning into her glass and laughing over stuff only she thinks about... it tends to be creepy because she wont tell whats so funny

HEARTMAN: Known Alcoholic!! (you can tell me otherwise if you saw the amound of whiskey and wine he orders ingame..its insane) He drinks a lot to deal with his lonelyness and heartcondition but when hes in company,...and drunk..,he becomes very flirty!! trying to hit on you and getting touchy feely until you tell him to stop! he wants a hug soooo baaaddddddd

HIGGS: Ohh boi higgs..hes very lightweight like sam! When he gets drunk he becomes very LOUD....he starts to yell about himself and what a great god particle he is! YALL MAY LOOK AT HIM!! NOW !!! ....you know...that bragging type of drunk......Be carefull...sometimes he starts to scribble all over the walls while wasted...

Thanks for reading and pls Excuse my english... ♡

AND NO BB AINT GETTING BOOZE Ò.Ó

[2sunchild2]

The Remnants

Guess the show lol

Lowkey not v happy w/ it but I wanted to post something

Long ago, in a time long forgotten by mankind, magic ruled over all. Witches and wizards were seeing aiding and cursing people. Giants roamed the lands. Werewolves, vampires, ghosts and ghouls alike, haunted the night. Humans themselves were gifted with the supernatural power. But only four weld the most powerful magic of them all.

Blessed by the gods, four maidens were given a specific power, each one corresponding to a season of the year. Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall. Many seemed them out, to use and manipulate for their own selfish needs. They managed to kidnap one of the maidens, unaware of the chaos that soon followed. Pain and destruction washed over the world. Death loomed over every kingdom, house and family.

Upon seeing the destruction caused by the four maidens, the humans decided their magic was too strong and powerful to be contained. They had found and killed off the other three in hopes that it would rid the world of their power.

The gods were furious when the humans presented the corpses of their blessed chosens, they cursed mankind, stripping them from their magical abilities, and they promised, the four maidens’ magic will live on, impossible to erase, merely transferred from one woman to another.

The humans, upset by this turn of events, began opposing the gods in every possible way, which only angered the deities more. They wiped the world clean of living beings, disgusted by their creations and, in a beam of divine light, they left the depressing planet, leaving nothing but two moons, one of which had begun to break apart.

We are the remnants of what once was, of what will never be.

——————————————————————

Punch.

Punch punch.

“You know, you should really wrap your hands, this isn’t healthy,” Chloe leaned on the doorframe and crossed her arms, “You could seriously get hurt.”

Punch.

Punch punch.

“Oh, so we’re in a ‘Shut up Chloe I don’t feel like talking to you’ mood today?”

Punch.

Chloe tilted her head sideways and hummed, “Hmmm, I wonder what Kagami will say when she sees you punching the life out of that bag with your bare hands.”

The punching stopped. Marinette let her hands rest at her sides and took deep breaths, in a desperate attempt to regulate her breathing again. How long had she been in the gym? One look at her bruised hands and she knew the answer. Too long.

“What is it Chloe,” she asked the blonde, not bothering to look back as she grabbed her bottle and slowly drank the cool water, enjoying the feeling of it going down her throat.

Chloe sobered up and walked over to the blue-haired girl, grabbing the medical kit on her way. She sat Marinette down and began to gently work on her bruised hands. She could feel her teammate’s impassive gaze.

Chloe took a deep breath, “Fu called,” she watched her friend’s other hand twitch, “he said he’s expecting us to report on what’s happening with the winter maiden… and if she’s being targeted,” she put the now bandaged hand down and began working on the other one, “he wants us to meet with him at Dupont.”

“Is Kagami aware of this?” Her friend asked, checking the bandages on her hands. Chloe gave a nod in reply. Marinette got up and stretched her arms out, “well then, it seems Dupont is getting a visit from a few old students.”

————————————————

“Agreste,” the blonde man turned around to see his general at the door, “Are you aware of the stop we have to make at Valentino?”

Felix nodded, “The kingdom of Love is harboring the winter maiden, is that correct?”

His General nodded firmly, “You and I will be escorted to Dupont to discuss this matter with Master Fu,” at the sight of Felix’s scowl, the general continued, “he’s a respectable man, Felix, he knows what he’s doing. I’m willing to give you an hour to pack before we depart.”

“Yes, father,” Felix whispered to himself father the general left. He looked out his window, to see the breathtaking view of the snowy kingdom of Arise. He sighed and left to pack his bags, at least he will be reunited with his brother, even if it were for a brief moment.

——————————————

Adrien had been chatting with Bridgette when it happened. They were walking along the courtyard when he noticed Arise ships landing at the port of the school. He stopped talking and stared at the ship, seeing the drone-soldiers march out while being led by the general, though he was only hoping to see one face.

“Felix!”

He grabbed Bridgette by the arm and began racing towards the stiff blonde who just exited the ship, chanting his name over and over again. Saying Bridgette was confused would’ve been the understatement of the century. Who is this man? And why does Adrien know him?

They slowed down as they neared the man, “Felix!” The blonde boy yelled again, causing the other to turn his way. Adrien walked up to him, smiling like he’s been offered all the presents a fifteen-year-old boy could ask for.

“Adrien,” the man replied with a nod, “how have you been?”

Adrien beamed, “Well, I’m at the top of my class in monster theory, I’m in the top five ranks for—”

“No you dolt,” Felix whacked the boy upside his head, “I asked how you’re doing, not what ranking you are. Are you eating well? Are you getting enough sleep?” Felix led the boy towards the school entrance, questioning his brother in his well-being, if he’s enjoying his classes and if he’s made any friends.

Adrien smiled and gestured to Bridgette, who had been silently following them, “This is Bridgette! She’s the team leader!”

Bridgette jumped and tried to address the older man formally, “I… uhh…” she curtsied clumsily, almost falling over, “merry— uhhh, very! Nice to make… your… acquaintance? Sir?”

Felix raised a brow at the girl, “This is the famed leader of team Miraculous?” Bridgette sweat dropped.

“That was my aunt… uhhh, we’re team Prodigious,” Bridgette answered hesitantly. Bridgette glanced over to see Allegra waving are her and muttered a quick “excuse me” before leaving. Felix merely gave her a nod and kept walking, the drones following close behind.

That is, until one of their heads were ripped off their body and thrown on the ground.

“This is what you call a high tech super soldier?” A rough feminine voice called out, causing Felix to stop in his tracks. He turned around and glared at the woman.

“Do you know you just destroyed Arise military property?” He questioned, his voice low and dangerous, “I could have you arrested.”

The woman let out a laugh and took a swig from her flask before replying, “what are you gonna do sweetheart? Sue me? A bunch of stuck up pussies.” She laughed out loud, the two other women she came with decided to let her have her fun before they attended business.

Felix glared at the blue hard woman and unsheathed his sword, “Say one more disrespectful thing about us, and I’ll cut off your tongue,” his piercing blue eyes narrowing as she flipped her hair, showing everyone the scar on her left eye.

“Make me.”

—————————————

Adrien couldn’t believe his eyes, this woman, though beautiful he had to admit, had come out of nowhere, destroyed Arise property, challenged his brother and was now dueling with him. She had pulled out a yo-yo of all things, but then she pushed a button and it became a glowing staff.

They circled around each other for a moment, waiting to see who would strike first, and all the woman had to do was smirk for Felix to lose his temper and strike.

They had been fighting for a good two minutes already, there was a crater in the courtyard and rubble littered the stone floor. She was skilled, he had to admit, but Felix had strict military training, he should be capable of winning.

Bridgette heard the sound of an explosion in the courtyard and ran back to check if Adrien was okay. She saw him at the front of the crowd and, while struggling, she pushed through to get to him.

“What’s going on?” She asked him breathless.

“Some crazy woman came here and challenged my brother! They’re dueling as we speak.”

Bridgette gave him an odd look, “really? Who’s he fighti— OH MY GOD THAT’S MY AUNT!” Adrien gave her an incredulous look and opened his mouth to reply but Bridgette, without meaning to, interrupted him, already invested in the fight, “Kick his butt Marinette!”

Adrien huffed, “Show her some respect Felix!” He wanted to support his brother, and he wanted him to win.

Marinette stood on one end of the courtyard, the opposite side to Felix, his stance was ready to pounce, he activated his aura and a dark wisp of shadows spreads from his right hand, to the rest of his body. Marinette’s smirks, but doesn’t activate her aura. She shifts her weapon to a scythe, her eyes never leaving Felix’s and then, she stops, shiftiest the weapon back to a yo-yo and placing it back on her hip, earring a disappointed boo from the crowd.

She raises her hand and beckons Felix to come closer, in a fit of rage he does, and almost strikes her with his sword before being stopped by a very stern, “Agreste!”

“But sir, she started it,” Felix argued. The general looked at his son before settling his eyes on Marinette, who simply raised her hands up in defense.

“He’s the one to struck first, sir.”

The general’s mood did not shift, “You are here for a reason Marinette, don’t waste your time on silly games,” he turned around, but stopped, “ oh and do bring your friends with you, you’re here in business with the master,” he began walking away and let out a rough, “Agreste, come.”

Marinette wanted to let out a retort but her arm was grabbed by her niece, “Aunt Mari! You’re here! You didn’t tell me your we’re going to visit! I missed you! Did you miss me?” Her face was mere millimeters away from her face, eyes wide in excitement.

Marinette let out a smile and ruffled her hair, “No.”

Bridgette laughed as she slid down her arm to the ground and looked up at her, “ Are you staying for long?”

“I’m just here on business honey,” Marinette crouched down ruffled the girl’s hair affectionately before getting back up, “ Don't get into too much trouble okay?”

————————————

“I still can’t believe you’re allowed to listen to this sort of information,” Felix hissed, not too pleased with the fact that he just fought (and technically lost) someone in the same rank as his father.

Marinette shrugged and observed herself in the elevator mirror, “Fu needs a man on the inside, we’re the best for the job.”

Before he could retort, the elevator door opened and the duo was met with the deadpan looks of Fu, Marinette’s teammates, Marianne and General Gabriel.

This looks promising, Marinette mused.

Tag list uwu: @thyladyanput @gloriafee4 @slytherinsheashire @realrandomposts

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 14

Fighty fighty fight time!

For the record, I chat with a coworker about shows every now and then, I’ve gotten him watching RWBY and update him on my Brotherhood progress. He was quite happy to hear that I’d gotten to Greed, and the implications thereof. I had been under the assumption that all the Goths were working together, but Greed is clearly working on his own plans independent of the main group. That accounts for the main Goths (Lust, Gluttony, Envy) and our immortality-seeker (Greed), which leaves Sloth, Wrath, and Pride unaccounted for. Looking forward to how they’re represented! Episode 14 - “Those Who Lurk Underground” Huh, same intro. We’re definitely past the midpoint (14/26), does Brotherhood not change? Hey, it’s Central! Overhead shot like when Mr. Freeze was casting a city-wide TC. Roy’s walking through a hallway as a bunch of Shadowy Officers gossip. Roy finds their skepticism amusing. Time to talk with the boss… only Fuhrer Bradley’s away? “Inspecting the South”? But that’s where the Elrics went. Maybe I’m being suspicious, but that’s an awfully big coincidence right after Bradley pushed to keep the Philosopher’s Stone experiments suppressed. In the sewers now, Dolcetto’s leading the Chimeras with Al in tow. Sudden sniffing (man that place has to stink even worse for Dog-Man), and they tense up, Roa just says it feels like old times. Ayup, there’s the eyepatch. Bradley’s outside the Devil’s Nest, not looking too happy. “What an interesting discovery for such a routine inspection.” Oh, oh my. Looks like Bradley’s in fighting mode, and he brought Armstrong and some mooks with him. I knew Greed was gonna get stomped by Izumi, this is overkill. [Bradley]: “Move in!” Ed and Izumi are facing off against Armored-Greed now. Who starts laughing at “a housewife and a hotheaded brat.” Yeah, let’s see how funny you find it after oh come ON! Don’t you run away you coward, we’re just getting to the good part. Bleh, what a time for Izumi’s internal injuries to act up.

Ok good the troops are here. Medic for the lady! Back to Al, who’s struggling against Martel. Worm your way to freedom, buddy! Aw, but Greed just showed up. Still love his smarmy attitude and how he nonchalantly says things have gotten “a little out of hand”, but you’re still holding my boy Alphonse. [Bradley]: “I can’t let you do that.” Ooooh! Was disappointed when Greed split and Izumi keeled over, but maybe we’ll get a good fight scene this episode after all! The Fuhrer is here, swords already drawn. Bradley starts monologuing about how it sucks getting old. Body stops moving the way you want it to, so he’d rather get this over quickly and go home. Greed just laughs and says he should retire- goodbye armor hand! Fight fight fight! Looks like Greed’s hand is regenerating, but nowhere near fast enough to take on Bradley who’s beating him like a pinata. Elsewhere Roa is going hand-to-hand with The Mighty Armstrong (who shed his shirt offscreen, of course). Or rather, hammer-to-hand. Actually, make that majestic statue-to-hand since Armstrong morphed the hammer into something far more fetching. [The Mighty Armstrong]: “Behold! *sparkle sparkle* You have just had the rare pleasure of witnessing the famous Armstrong statuary technique!” Gasp! Roa, how dare you simply throw away such a piece of art! The uncultured barbarian Hulks out to the point that even a direct Armstrong punch to the face doesn’t stop him. This one might take two. The Gun Mooks are dealing with the rest of the Chimeras as Ed and Izumi are taken to safety, per the direct orders of Bradley. So confirmation that Bradley knew there were at least Human-Chimeras there, if they’re carrying out prior orders. But how did he know? Oh dear, Armstrong is still facing Ogre-Roa, slammed into the wall. And may Leto smite you for the damage to Armstrong’s temple by scraping his face against the wall! Trading punches, The Mighty Armstrong commends his adversary, and in his mercy offers Roa a chance to surrender. But Roa oh come on you Mooks! I know you’re following Bradley’s orders but just wait a second and you might get a prisoner to question! Or just shoot the guy whatever. Until sudden rescue from Dolcetto, he cuts a pipe and the Chimera’s make their escape in the steam. Back to Greed, who’s pulled a Deadpool and regrown his hand. Punching, he knocks Bradley’s eyepatch off? But immediately gets sworded through the neck. [Bradley, with a scarred white eye]: “I understand why you’d think you have an advantage over a man like me since I possess neither your impenetrable Ultimate Shield, nor an Ultimate Spear that can pierce any substance. But I’ll tell you a secret. Do you know how I managed to distinguish myself amongst the storms of bullets on the battlefield time after time, to rise to my current position?” [Greed, who’s been better]: “Y-You’re…” Wait Wait wait wait His eye, his scarred eye, the one the eyepatch was covering Uruboros, his pupil is the uruboros symbol WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?! Bradley’s a Goth?! One of the Homunculi? Ok ok hold up, let’s recount. We’ve got the Main Goths (Lust, Gluttony, Envy) and Greed on his lonesome. Greed knew of the others in that they “didn’t talk anymore” but not that they had access to Soul Armors like Al. And he didn’t recognize Bradley, so no connection there. But Bradley knew enough to come hunting Greed when the Elric Brothers got close, so the jury’s still out on him working with the Main Goths ala the Lab and coverup. Which implies that he’s connected to Hughes’ death but that’s a whole ‘nother thing, we’ll come back to that. So Bradley’s a Goth/Homunculi, possibly connected to the Main Goths pending confirmation, separate from Greed and seeking to kill him for unspecified reasons. So if we’re sticking to the Seven Deadly Sins naming theme, which is he? Sloth? Maybe a play on his super-speed power, but all the others have powers connected to their ability rather than in spite of it. Wrath? Again, generally calm attitude but maybe it’s a mask and he certainly gets angry when our characters haven’t been around to see it like here and against Mr. Freeze. And oh my Leto if he actually is Wrath I am going to scream, I was calling this asshole Fuhrer Fury just based on the eyepatch. If “Fuhrer Fury” was Wrath all along I’m done, I’m just done. That leaves Pride, which I can see as being the top dog of the Military, ties into his speech just then about distinguishing himself. So minor ironic support for Sloth, combat ability supports Wrath (uuuuuugh!), and status supports Pride. [Bradley]: “I may not have the protection of your Ultimate Shield, but I clearly see your weakness with my Ultimate Eye.”

The Goth of Undetermined Name withdraws his swords, and Greed collapses to the ground. [Bradley]: “Now then, Greed. How many times am I going to have to kill you before you stay dead?” Ok, creepy shot of Bradley’s Uroborus eye glowing in a shadowed face. Far away from the Reveal, Martel’s keeping Al put, wondering where Greed is. Footsteps? Hey, Greed’s coming back looking a bit worse for wear. Bradley let him go? Nope, just led him along with a sword through the neck. Jeez, just finish him off already, don’t drag it out. Oh, Al’s keeping Martel from getting out, saying that Bradley will kill her. Trying to protect your captor? Bradley says he’s killed Greed 15 times now, wonders how many more it’ll take. But don’t fret Greed, help has arrived! In the form of severely wounded Dolcetto and Roa. Huh. Despite them being kidnappers and failing to appreciate fine art, I can respect their loyalty to their boss. Misplaced and bound to get them killed, but still. Respect. And even before they go to die against Bradley, they tell Al to protect her. Cue heartwrenching screaming as she pleads for Al to let her out to help her friends. And Bradley cuts them down. [Greed]: “Whoa, that was a little excessive. Killing me is one thing, but they’re not coming back.” [Bradley]: “Pitying the lost lives of your pawns? Pathetic.” [Greed]: “Excuse me? Are you senile? Did you forget who I am, old man? I’m the living incarnation of greed. Those weren’t my friends, Bradley, they were my possessions! Money! Women! Henchmen! They’re all possessions! So killing my henchmen is the same as stealing from me! And I don’t let people take what’s mine!” Ok, you’re still overall a bad guy and I want you to lose, but damn if that wasn’t one of the most Slytherin things I’ve ever heard. It’d be better if you saw your henchmen as, you know, actual people. But still, that is an excellent way to phrase the Slytherin ideal of self-interest.

[Bradley]: “Greed… you grow more pathetic by the second!” The Fuhrer unleashes on Greed now, a lovely fluid fightscene until Bradley stabs Greed again and tells him to stay put, he’ll be right back. Guuuuh, I’m getting shivers of seeing this man who just slaughtered the Chimeras walking towards Al with sword drawn, even as he calmly asks if Al’s been hurt and if he can help him at all. And then Martel uses her control of the armor to grab Bradley by the throat. Oh. Oh jeez. Al was pleading for Martel to stop, Martel was screaming for Bradley to die… and Bradley just put a sword right down through the armor. There was *shunk* noise… and then blood started gushing out of Al’s armor. That’s… that’s a thing. Guh blood’s splashed onto the sigil in the armor, that if anything is Al’s physical form that is him wait what? Blood-triggered flashback? Al’s getting his memory back! He did meet Truth like Ed, went through the gate and saw things as his body was torn apart, right at the end he saw Mama Elric? But Truth is smiling that creepy smile and Ed’s grabbing onto his own body what is… Oh god. The viewpoint is looking at young Ed from inside a Transmutation Circle. The Transmutation Circle. And a blackened limb is reaching out. … Al snaps out of it to the sound of Ed’s voice. He asks if Al’s ok, Al asks if Ed’s ok. He’s covered in blood- Ed’s been opened up. The body’s been removed, but the blood is still there. [Al sobbing]: “I couldn’t save her.” Ed tries to tell Al it wasn’t his fault. But this isn’t something you can just brush off with a “Let’s go home, ‘kay?” Bradley’s walking up, saying that he needs to ask them both some questions before they can leave. He asks if they’d known Greed before. And if they traded any information with him. Ed says no, and the military was never mentioned. But I thought when Greed talked about Human Chimeras- [Bradley]: “That isn’t my concern. Let me be more specific.” The Fuhrer has an awful lot scowling armed guys behind him. [Bradley]: “If you arranged a deal or shared any knowledge with him… Then I’ll execute both of you right now.” Ed still insists nothing was said. Now Bradley’s pressing about his metal limbs and any connection to Al’s armored body… before he chuckles about Ed being an honest kid and leaves, telling Ed to take care of his younger brother. ...what’s your game, Bradley? Why are you doing all of this? At the butcher shop, Izumi’s in bed while Bradley visits her in his dress blues. Offering protection? Wait a minute, he’s seriously trying to recruit Izumi as a State Alchemist while she’s bedridden from internal injuries. Ah, so it’s “protection” he’s offering. When Izumi doesn’t bite he just says he’ll be back (quick zoom to his eyepatch), “perhaps you’ll have had a change of heart.” Outside, Ed’s cleaning Al’s breastplate and chatting with Armstrong, saying that Greed had a Uroboros tattoo. Like the Goths at the lab, that he told Armstrong and Hughes- Oh come on! This episode has been brutal enough, do not add “tell the Elrics about Hughes’ murder” to the mix! No, I think Armstrong understands that’d be too much for now. He just tells Ed to not do anything rash, and leaves. Now that they’re alone, Al tells Ed that his memories of Truth are back. A brief lighthearted moment when he imitates their “weird” teasing, but nothing about how to get their bodies back. Ed says that it wasn’t a bust, reminds Al about how there was unrest in the military about the Stone and that Bradley said he was looking into it. [Ed]: “Well Greed was obviously connected to them somehow. But if so… why’d the Fuhrer slaughter everyone? If he was trying to figure out what they’re up to, why didn’t he catch them and make them talk?” There’s only one answer to that: he didn’t want them to talk. He wanted what they knew to die with them. The Elrics don’t seem to have caught onto this yet, I guess not knowing that Bradley is a Goth like we know leaves it murkier. They don’t know, so they’re going to get closer. We return to Central, travel through some pipes, and hear a familiar voice. [Lust]: “Welcome back, Fuhrer. How was your inspection of the South?” Oh crap. Fuhrer’s saying that both “Fullmetal’s younger brother” and “their teacher” are candidates for human sacrifice. The leader of the Military is working for the Goths? At best I was hoping he was another independent Homunculi like Greed was, but this? This is bad. Not to mention that Izumi has a target painted on her back now, since apparently Bradley can see those who have met Truth with his Ultimate Eye. Oh, and he’s brought a present, a wayward Goth. Greed wakes up to see that “the gang’s all here”. Are all the Goths present at this little meeting? Confirmation that it’s Lust who has the Ultimate Spear technique in the form of her Fingers of Doom. Gluttony (still trying out diets) and Envy (“Please! For the last time, get a new outfit!”) are there too. Sloth is namedropped, Lust says he’s being kept working. Which brings Greed to the “new addition”, Bradley. [Bradley]: “I am Wrath the Furious.” Leto DAMN IT, he really was Fuhrer Fury. Come on! To the humans, he’s the leader of Amestris (holy crap did we finally get the name of this country?), but in truth he was created by Father for the plan. Greed is shocked at the idea of a Homunculus that can grow older. “Can”? Bit of teasing between Greed and Envy who does NOT like being called ugly- [Father]: “Stop your nonsense. Both of you.” Oho, the aforementioned Father, maker of the Goths! Methinks we finally get to meet the Big Bad of the show! Father chides the kids to act better- beard beard beard beard beard WHAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTT!!!?!?!!? I know that facial hair! Is that- Are you- Father is Papa Elric?! [FATHER]: “You are both my son and you are a piece of my soul. So why would you betray your loving father?” Greed just says he was being true to his nature, he didn’t want to spend his life working for Father. And when asked to come back, he refuses. Father takes this… not well. As in, he sloooowly dips Greed into molten metal. Greed goes out yelling that he’ll see his siblings in Hell and he’ll give Pops a stomachache. Lots of pipes later, Father downs a toast to The Promised Day… and their undying loyalty. “Talk about cheesy” indeed. After this little family reunion, Bradley/Wrath is taking a walk when a voice called [Selim] calls out “Father!”. Right, Bradley did say in the first episode that he’d have a story for “his boy”. But how does this work, being a Homunculus and all? Tied into how it’s unusual that he can age? We end with charming little family chatter, [Bradley’s Wife] (yes, that is her official subtitle name) worrying about his age, and Selim getting all excited to hear about The Fullmetal Alchemist and saying that he wants to become a State Alchemist to help out his father one day. [Bradley]: “You never know, Selim. Maybe you will help me out someday.” Credits. ...AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[hostiias]

MENTAL HEALTH WITH NIM: DID

           Hey sweet peas! Nimbus here and I have what’s known as DID!! What is DID you ask? It’s short for Dissociative Identity Disorder !! It was known as multiple personality disorder until the 90′s--when they gained a better understanding and changed the name. You don’t have to read this, but it would mean a whole awful lot to me if you did!

       First a disclaimer! DID is unique to everyone like many disorders and while some core facts are the same, please not I only have one experience and one side of this multi-faceted disorder!

         DID is formed in ages 7-9 and only in this stage of childhood. It is caused by repeated and/or extreme trauma. The person who has developed DID (aka me!!) will have no memory of their childhood. That’s right! I don’t remember anything--and any memories I have are vague and fuzzy, like they happened to someone else. I only have one very clear memory--but I only recovered it fairly recently via therapy.

           That brings us to our next issue--DID causes severe memory loss. I’m not talking a few hours--Im talking losing days, weeks, months, and even years. I’ve had to work very hard with my disorder and therapy to get a better handle on this loss of time--but that’s still fairly recent and I do still lose time. The reason I bring this up is because I might not remember a conversation we had--or something I was supposed to do for you.

            I forget birthdays, anniversaries, important dates, etc so much--like i don’t even remember my mums. Bits and pieces of my life are like shadows in my mind and I have to do some digging and info-seeking to find it out. It’s very difficult and I feel very guilty about it...so please never take it personally if I don’t remember something. It’s not because I don’t care , but because my mind is literally fragmented.

           Expanding on that--DID is a defensive disorder created by your mind to try and protect you from your trauma. So you know how in 7-9 your ‘parts’ of personality are slowly integrating to create you? The trauma disrupts this and your parts stay separate, creating alters. These alters often create their own personas; become their own people. The bugger thing is, once you’ve split--you can do it later again when you’re older. That’s right! If I’m traumatized enough, it could cause me to split again--because now my brain has recognized this ‘split’ as a defensive tactic.

             I’m pretty lucky that because I’ve been getting therapy (and FINALLY got a diagnosis; like I’m medically diagnosed with this disorder) I’ve been able to avoid further splits. At this time I have eight alters I am aware of whom I communicate with almost like a family; this is how I’ve been able to cut down on my memory loss. It’s still a bit like watching myself through tv, but at least I’m more aware of what happened.

              Some quick terminology!!

Protector: an alter who keeps the system safe

Alter: The ‘part’ that split.

System: The name for the collective unit of alters and host/original.

Host: the alter who is living the individuals life most of the time, might not be the original.

Original: the individual who was originally traumatized and ended up with DID. (I am both the host and the original).

Gatekeeper: Someone who monitors what alters are allowed to interact with the rest of the system and what memories are allowed to be accessed. If there are Persecutors in the system, they keep them at bay.

Persecutor: An alter who often exhibits the behavior of the person who was abusive/caused the trauma. Usually only harmful to the system itself. It is rare for persecutors to cause harm to outside individuals, but they may say cruel things.

Internal self-helper: An alter who is mostly on in the system that makes sure everyone is where they need to be; aka sort of like the maintenance guy.

Trauma holder: An alter who holds the memories of the trauma that cause their split.

Little: An alter who maintains the appearance and mindset of a child; usually the result of the initial trauma from ages 7-9.

Non-human: An alter who is not human. Can be a mythical being but is typically an animal presenting alter.

Fictive: An alter who has the ‘memories’ and personality of a fictional person as well as their appearance and name.

Headspace: This is an internal world sort of like Sherlocks ‘mind palace’ from the BBC show where all the alters can interact with each other and ‘live’. How it appears is different for everyone–my headspace is a cabin in the woods.

Age: Alters can be the same age as the orginal or older/younger. They are, essentially, their own people in many ways.

Co-existence: A therapy method in which you learn to live and function with your alters (this is the therapy I use)

Integration: A form of therapy where the original and/or host begins to integrate the alter into their singular personality (aka going through the process that was disrupted in childhood). This can also occur between alters.

      I have a very good relationship with my alters but it wasn’t always this way. I’ve had a lot of issues in the past with varying personality traits, time loss, etc. I’ve even had a few toxic relationships in which I was the toxic party--partly due to not having a good handle on what was going on. Now no one should use this as an excuse! I am as at fault for my alters actions as I would be if they were my own so don’t let anyone excuse bad behavior with ‘my alter did it, not me!’ because they can absolutely work on getting a better handle of them.

        I will say that people with DID who have not gotten a better handle on their alters deserve your grace and patience where you feel you can give it; it’s frightening to know that sometimes there’s basically a whole other person driving your body. You don’t need to, nor are expected to excuse harm--but hopefully you can at least offer some understanding--because that’s all any person suffering from this disorder can ask for. It’s especially hard when you’re undiagnosed and have no idea what’s going on--only that something is wrong (I speak from experience here hhh--)

        You ready for another term? Ok so alters often will ‘front’, this is like to say if you were driving a car--whoever is fronting is driving the car. The car is your body (obviously). So if you’re in the passenger seat, you probably still are aware of what’s going on, even if you’re no longer in control--if you’re in the backseat you have a vague idea of what’s happening, but it’s not really clear to you--you’re there but removed. If you are in the trunk you have no idea what’s going on--you’re completely blind to anything being said or happening. Even when I (Nimbus) am not fronting, I’m typically in the passenger seat anymore--but I used to only be in the back seat or the trunk...so it’s taken a year or so of work to get here.

           This is a disorder that is very important to me to talk about because I don’t wanna feel ashamed or crazy of something my brain did to protect me so I’m gonna be more vocal about it here! You are welcome to ask myself or my alters questions in IM’s or in my ask box! You may not however ask about my trauma, that’s just rude and unkind. I can also send you resources for people who talk about DID that I feel are trustworthy in their info. My disorder is nothing to be ashamed of and I’m happy to share it with you!

          Below is a list of seven of my alters whom you may ask questions as well!

Roxas: Main protector. 26. He/him. True neutral. aro/ace. coffee addict. Teasingly known as ‘sk8r boy’. Not related to the kh roxas. Like sunsets, coffee, snap backs, and hiking. Pitches my voice down a bit.

Dimitri: Physical protector/gatekeepr. He/him. blunt/asshole. some sort of chaotic alignment. 25. Means well but could stand to be a little gentler about things. Likes leather, alcohol, dancing, and fighty-aesthetics. Pitches my voice down a lot.  

Sage: Caretaker. he/him. 31. the mom friend. Will make you tea and listen to all your problems. Will suggest good books. Lawful good. Likes soothing aesthetics, once upon a time, tea, sweaters, leggings, and classical music. Talks in full and VERY formal sentences. Has a softer tone than me.

Salem: Internal self-helper. 21. he/him. really sunny personality. lawful good. genuinely a good person. minor anxiety. likes exercise, healthy foods, and bubbly music. Has a country bumpkin british accent (kind of?). Will call you ‘love’ or ‘lovey’

Koumei: Caretaker. he/him/they/them. 23. genderqueer. “lets talk about how that feels”. Makes sure i’m honest during counseling sessions. Likes crop tops, those cloth elephant pants you see in hipster stores, yoga, tea, east asia aesthetics, and meditative music. Whisper-talks. SHY.

Carter: Gatekeepr. he/him. 18. ace. grumpy/moody teenager. awkward phase. ‘lol bold of you to assume I process anything’. Stays in room almost 24/7. blunt. likes video games, beanies, hoodies, jeans, sneakers, and sleeping during the day. Doesn’t change my voice really.

Bubble: non-human. Some sort of fairy? Genderless but uses he/him. Likes to look like a meow wow cause they make me happy. Age is a mystery. Can appear human and typically chooses a little boy. Lets have a good time everyone!! Like to color, play games, do child-like things/watch child-like shows. ‘reconnect with your inner child nim!’. LOUD and BUBBLY.

Thank you for reading and again if you have any questions for us let me know !! I love you all <3333