#this is just the tip of the iceberg I bet

[dopepoisonivyoncrack]

I LOVE learning about the history of Artemisia absinthium (wormwood) and Absinthe in particular, oh my god its absolutely hysterical

The origins of Absinthe are quite unclear. Its medicinal uses can be traced back to ancient Egypt and Greece, then around the 18th century there is a fuzzy first evidence of the actual Absinthe as an alcoholic beverage/ medicinal elixir (I love the word elixir, this is so ridiculously pretentious and uncanny). After the first distilleries appeared in Switzerland and France, the madness increasingly took off. It seems the drink was given to the French troops as a malaria preventive, then they acquired a taste for it (fancy way to say addiction but ok) and couldn't let go of it after coming home. It became super popular in bars, bistros, cafes and cabarets that 5 pm was known as the "l'heure verte" meaning "the green hour". I guess thanks to the iconic green color of the drink. Everyone from the rich bourgeoisie to the poor artists and ordinary working class was drinking it. The french were drinking it over 7 times more than their amount of wine per year at the time (aka 36 billion liters of absinthe/year, this is insane). Then it got exported in the US and other countries.

In the beginning of 1900 the ban came in the US and several other European countries because it was a drink associated with great violence and social disorder. A blame was put on the wormwood compound thujone, saying it was hallucinogenic. Although there are no scientific studies to prove that, and the only study that suggested it was disproven in 1999. Some were fascinated with the notion that getting drunk on absinthe seemed to be manifesting worse than getting drunk on other types of drinks, so they popularized the misinformation (thanks Toulouse-Lautrec, Van Gogh, and Wilde). This explains why the poor article I read mentioned Van Gogh painting with a yellow and green tint out of absinthe-induced hallucinations. Self-induced hallucinations when drunk both on alcohol and on the aesthetic of a drink are powerful I guess, but I also think there must be a seed of truth in their stories. After all, A. absinthium does possess bioactive molecules, so do other ingredients put in the drink and depending on the mix and ratios, the synergistic effect could have different and potent effects on people. So if the isolated molecule from A. absinthium doesn't have hallucinogenic effect, that doesn't mean the mix with other molecules won't have either. Also doses make the poison, and these people were pushing the (unknown then) limits. Not to mention the processing and different recipes, and even the growing conditions of the plants could result in different compositions, and scientific studies weren't done on exactly the same drink. There seem to be biases too.

It seems that a widely accepted theory now is that the hallucination reports rather come from drinking poisonous adulterants of the cheaper versions of absinthe, that put in wormwood oil, impure alcohol and poisonous colorants and such. The truth could be quite a combination of theories, really, 1 doesn't exclude the other.

Anyway, a revival of the drink started in the 90s thanks to the countries that never banned it, and it is more regulated than it was, like in the UE, based on the thujone content (even if its not the culprit molecule, but u know...history). The countries that got a worse history with the drink seem more cautious with it now.

-

sources: 1 , 2 , 3, 4

[tennessoui]

please write part two to the divorce attorney where they actually get together 😭 im dying, it has me in stitches and i NEED TO KNOW HOW IT ENDS XD

ok maybe i will soon write this (obligatory pause for groans from people who want me to stop finding new things and just finish my old things) but i was thinking about it today and honestly

they meet at a bar after obi-wan's long term girlfriend tells him she can't marry him and they should break up, and this is obi-wan's and anakin's first conversation that isn't in some professional capacity so at first honestly they don't know what to say to one another

but then anakin confesses that he wasn't sure obi-wan would recognize him without a wedding ring, and obi-wan scoffs and is like do you know how many other repeat customers i have?

and anakin is like no? and obi-wan is like just one other. he's been divorced three times. every time, it's been devastating for him.

and anakin is like (pensively) i've been divorced before.

and obi-wan is like uh i know. i'm your divorce lawyer. you've been divorced 29 times.

and anakin goes all quiet and picks at the label of his beer and then he shrugs and he's like. 30 i guess. and once when it mattered.

[itsmonobun]

rare opinion post but even though i've been really really enjoying palia i refuse to go into the tags because i just know that i'm going to witness the horrors(tm) especially as it pertains to certain characters

[puppetmaster13u]

Oh my gosh I lost this and it took me so long to find it again, I am so sorry it has taken me this long to reply lol. 

But you know what they could do I just realized? With Martha & Thomas coming back? I bet they can legally bring Jason back too. Like, mass revivals have happened in DC before, multiple times in fact. So if they can spin it as something happening in an area, like where all three were buried…

Oh my gosh the death echoes and living memory is glorious. I bet if one looks at just the right angle on Martha they can see the pearl necklace flying, can see the blood staining both their fronts. And then you blink and it’s gone, and you aren’t sure if you were seeing something or not. 

Love the idea of Alfred letting out more ghostly traits. I honestly don’t really like the idea of Clockwork being Kronos, little overused in my opinion. Though he can also be the entity behind Kronos, the primordial manifestation of Time Itself instead of the god of it if that makes sense? No clue if that makes sense lol. 

But I love the idea of just little things adding up. The click of a clock as he laughs, a glow in his eyes that wasn’t there before, just a hint of crimson reflected in his pupils. Again, like you said, things that can mostly be attributed to the return of his partners for the most part lol. 

Honestly the hilarity of people telling rumors about Batman is great. Some goon tosses a bottle of holy water at him and screams hysterically when it doesn’t work. Same with the person who asked Condiment King to use something with garlic. 

You know what? I bet Harley and Diana make a group chat with him, maybe a couple others too, for discussion and forcing him to take breaks and self care nights. 

Pfft, those poor goons who just have to now deal with Eldritch batman. Lights flicker and one blink the Bat is on the other side of the warehouse and the next he- it- is right there. Horrific for the goons and amusing for the batfam. 

Poor poor Clark, blurting out his confusion mid-meeting. He’s just concerned about his friend’s health and worried that Bruce might have been hurt! Diana is making are you serious expressions and motions with her hands lol. Like it’s pretty easy to put two and two together because Bruce might be trying not to act overprotective, but I mean. It’s Bruce trying not to act protective of one of his kids. 

Love the idea of Martian Manhunter just curiously poking at the second set of emotions and just getting grabbed onto by what he can recognize as baby. Like mans was a father before Mars died, and Martians were far more open about psychic stuff because that was their natural way of communicating. I bet he offers assistance to Bruce in any possible way, or at least congratulations. Probably in private but who knows lol. 

Also okay-ish-but-trying Fenton parents is wonderful. Honestly no one knows why Condiment King apparently got mauled by something, and Vlad pretends he has no clue what they’re talking about. Oh my gosh if both Vlad and Bruce are appearing in public together- or even if someone manages to snap a picture- I bet the reporters are all going rabid. Probably theorize how they met, bonded, etc. Someone might even put forth the idea of them bonding over family losses before Jason’s “revival” and all that. 

You know what would be hilarious? Fright Knight/Thomas just getting snapped into the room all ?? when Alfred explains stuff. Which, they’re sort of the same person but not?? FK has gotten so used to the helmet, the cowl, that he doesn’t exactly have a face in ghost form. Like at all. It’s just shadow. They’ll figure something out, I am sure. 

Meme Prompt 2

Thinkin of feral halfa Jason again. No surprise there.

[anniebeemine]

All In- s.r. x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of nudity and strip poker, Spencer's far too smug for his own good

Spencer placed a hand on your shoulder. “Want to play a card ga-”

“No.”

Spencer smirked. “Alright.” He patted the headrest of the seat, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. You turned your attention back to the book in your hands, feeling his gaze on you even without looking up.

Emily, who had witnessed your immediate refusal, looked at you in surprise. Her eyes then flicked to Spencer, noticing his seemingly neutral expression. She mistook it for hurt, but you knew better. You could almost feel the twinkle of amusement in his eyes, a sure sign that his rejection was more of a challenge than a disappointment.

“Go play cards with your man,” Emily said, nudging your leg with her foot. “You can’t just leave him hanging.”

You smiled to yourself, knowing full well what Spencer was up to. His insistence on playing cards, despite your disinterest, was his way of getting you to engage. You shook your head. “He cheats.”

Before Emily could ask what you meant, Spencer spoke up. “It’s not cheating!”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “It’s definitely cheating if you’re using your charm to distract me from winning.”

Spencer’s grin widened as he began shuffling the deck with a practiced flick of his wrist. “I prefer to think of it as making the game more enjoyable.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And how exactly does he manage that?”

Spencer leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Let’s just say, I have a few tricks up my sleeve—both in cards and in making sure Y/N is never bored.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He’s impossible. But he’s right about one thing. Playing cards with him is never boring.” You turned to look at Spencer. “I am never playing cards with you again.”

Emily's eyes widened in surprise, her curiosity piqued. “How bad did he get you?”

The last time you’d engaged in a card game with Spencer on the jet, you’d lost all of your peanuts. The game carried on after you made it home when you pulled out the jar of caramel sweets you had been rationing.

Emily’s eyes widened even more. “Wow, he really got you then. That’s impressive... and ruthless.”

You nodded with a resigned smile. “Exactly. And let’s just say that when Spencer suggested a game of strip poker, I decided to call it quits. I wasn’t about to lose anything else, especially not my dignity.” Then, he’d gotten every article of clothing, save your bra and panties.

Spencer chuckled, clearly enjoying the recollection. “Hey, it’s all in good fun. I thought it would spice things up a bit.”

Emily laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you two. I’d never have guessed that Spencer had a side like that.”

You leaned in, grinning. “Oh, you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg. But don’t worry, I’m sticking to less risky games from now on. My wardrobe and my dignity are safe for the foreseeable future. It took me weeks to find the bra on top of the bookshelf.”

As the jet continued its smooth flight, you found yourself settled next to Spencer, the gentle hum of the engines creating a calming backdrop. Despite your earlier declaration, you couldn’t resist the challenge when Spencer nudged the deck of cards toward you.

“So, are you sure you don’t want to play?” he asked with a playful grin.

You considered it for a moment, your competitive spirit getting the better of you. “Alright, fine. But this time, I’m not betting anything.”

Spencer shuffled the cards, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. The game began, and it wasn’t long before you felt the familiar sinking feeling. Despite your best efforts, Spencer’s deft card skills quickly put you at a disadvantage. Within the first few rounds, it became clear that you were on the losing end.

“Already?” Spencer teased, raising an eyebrow as he watched you reluctantly put down your hand.

You sighed dramatically, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Well, I guess I’m not as lucky today.”

He leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “Seems like I might need to raise the stakes again.”

“Behave.”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright, alright. I’ll play nice. But you know, it’s all in good fun.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The jet was quiet, the rest of the team either asleep or engrossed in their own activities, making the hum of the engines the only consistent sound in the background. He leaned in closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, playful murmur.

“You know,” he began, his eyes glinting with mischief, “if you want, we could play for something a bit more... interesting.”

You looked up from the book you were pretending to read, suspicious of the tone in his voice. “Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind, Spencer?”

His smirk deepened as he continued to shuffle the cards with a practiced flick of his wrist. “How about this—if you win, you get your underwear back.”

Your jaw dropped in disbelief, and you stared at him, mouth slightly agape. “Wait a minute… you’re telling me you have my underwear?”

Spencer’s grin widened as he nodded, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Maybe. They’ve been in a safe place, I promise.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, recalling the times when you’d been missing certain articles of clothing after your last game. “I’ve been searching everywhere for those! I thought they were lost in the laundry or something.”

He chuckled, his amusement evident as he dealt out a few cards for himself. “Or something. But, you know, if you’re not up for it…”

You crossed your arms, refusing to let him bait you into another one of his games. “I’m not playing. I’m done losing things to you," you said, sticking your tongue out at him.

Spencer simply shrugged, shifting his focus to the cards as he began a game of solitaire. His fingers moved deftly, the cards slipping into place effortlessly, but the smirk on his face never faded. He glanced at you, clearly enjoying your stubborn refusal to play along.

You huffed, unable to resist the challenge in his eyes. The idea of winning back what was rightfully yours—and wiping that smirk off his face—was too tempting to ignore. After all, you’d managed to get back almost everything else, and you weren’t about to let Spencer have the last laugh.

“Alright, fine,” you finally relented, setting your book down with a sigh.

[sugudoe]

⠀🎱⋆˙⊹ … OLYMP, the darlings of this gerenation, one direction gone rock, has another scandal following it’s name. once again, caused by none other than member naoya zen’in. this time, under the care of their new agency, NME, seems like the dust won’t be hidden. naoya is out, expelled with only an instagram post and pats on his back as a goodbye. the world and the band’s fans are split, while some think it was too much ( he has done worse, after all ), others are finally relieved. the constant headache of his presence is gone, but what about the void of his angelic voice? who will take his place?

𖦹 instagram ⋆ ⠀🎸

Liked by olymparchive and 2,6M others.

olympofficial Is with a heavy heart that we announce that our member Naoya Zen’in, know for his stage name Apollo, is departing ways to pursue his own solo career. We send you blessings and wishes of luck.

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olymphoe this is so unnecessary! bring him back, he is just an angel 😭

tojititts yeah, lucifer

gongojonon put ⭑ in his place!

naoyableachedhair that’s like changing from water to h20

getoslut that’s rude, she’s not as nearly as bad as him. i think :/

cowboygojou who is she?

sukunasacrifice @ohbabyi

aresinrehab you can sense the sassyness, mr nanami himself wrote that!

˚⠀ ᯤ ﹑ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐬. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬. ♰ ◞‏‏‎ ‎

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ⋆ social media and written ⋆ modern world!au ⋆ famous!au ⋆ this series has topics of prejudice such as homophobia, misogyny, abuse of power, substance use and addiction ⋆ smut ⋆ more in depths in the chapters ⋆

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⋆ reader x multiple

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋆ open, leave a comment to be tagged ⋆

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ⋆ minors are not allowed to interact with this post ⋆ do not spam like, because it affects my account, you may reblog it as you please, but more than five likes in a row and i’m blocking you ⋆ not a rule, but interactions are really motivating, so leave a comment on the chapters, please ⋆

well, hi. hello! new series being posted, this time with a rockstar universe. icaru’s sun is an idea i’ve been harboring for a while now and one night i made the poster and the next the synopsis, so i think it’s ready to be presented to all of you. it it’s not a light fic, because, as you can see from the warnings there is a lot to look out for, and that is just the tip of the iceberg. i’ll make sure to add on the chapters the more in detail warning for those who would like to be cautious, and you’re valid for that! differently from bet you can’t, my other series, this won’t have that amount of pairings, is strictly with band members and maybe a bit more, you will see. the end will also be different. i guess that summarizes what is to be expected, see you later.

[trashmouth-richie]

Eddie x fem!reader. [vol I]

Summary: just a bit of Eddie’s shenanigans 😈

TW: no minors, angst, mentions of hard times.

W.C: 4.7k

A/N: hope you are all enjoy this! Thank you for all the love received on the first chapter 🥰

You spent the rest of the night questioning why you ever placed the ad in the paper to begin with. Certainly you could just go to sleep and you’d wake up to all of Eddie’s belongings gone because this was a nightmare.. right? Of course. You’d wake up any minute now and things would go back to the way they used to be.

////

//

-

Oh how you had hoped.

Eddie wearing your robe was just the tip of the iceberg of the stupid shit he would endure for the next 12 hours. After eating 7 slices of pizza, he wiped his greasy hands down the front of it. Settling for that instead of the arms of the couch after you had scolded him. He talked during the entire episode of The Nanny.

“Holy shit, she’s hot, I mean her voice is kinda nasally but woooowwweeeee.. you think she’s into metalheads? I bet she is. I bet she’d love to be wrapped all up in me, it'd be a secret though for her.” He talked with his mouth full, bits of cheese and pizza sauce flying from his lips and landing on his naked chest. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, toes wiggling like he was a child watching cartoons. “Got any chips? I’m hungry.”

He left a mess wherever he went. The chips he begged you for were still sitting open on the couch. Crumbs decorated the upholstery like confetti at a New Year’s Eve party. His pizza plate on the coffee table, holding an impressive amount of beer cans. Instead of hanging your robe back up on its proper hook in the bathroom, he left it on the floor in between the living room and the hallway. You had gone to bed after he insisted on belching “Love Bites” with three beers tucked between his legs. It was at this moment you thought of begging Steve and Robin to move in with you instead.

“For the last time, I refuse to try to out burp you, I will not be duct taping beers to my hands, and for the love of god if you get salsa on the carpet I will skin you alive.”

“It puts the lotion on its skin….”

You stomp to bed, slamming your bedroom door and throwing the covers over your head. You can hear Eddie slurring through your bedroom walls.

“C’mon Tooooty, I thought we were having a slumber party. You didn’t even paint my nails yet!” His small hiccuping giggles turn into a roar of laughter lasting entirely too long.

-

The next morning you wake up to your alarm, it’s peaceful, content. Today is a new day and you have a busy schedule working at the salon. Saturdays are easily the most hectic at Josie’s. It seems it’s the only day off for most people to come in and get their hair done. You dress in a simple black tank top tucked into a black mini skirt, a form fitting denim vest over top, and black chunky slide sandals. Spritzing yourself with your Exclamation perfume you just have to brush your teeth and grab a little breakfast.

Upon opening your bedroom door you are hit with a stench so ungodly, it makes the hair stand up on your arms. Did a fucking tornado crash through your home? How hard were you sleeping? You felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz only in reverse, while she was mystified by the sights around her you were full of rage, disgust, and sheer anger.

Eddie.

For fucks sake it is almost as if he needed a goddamn babysitter.

Beer cans litter the floor. A silver ball made of duct tape was sitting on the couch, the small tv was still on. All your VHS’s were scattered along the floor by the entertainment center. A plate of what looked like hardened shredded cheese was balancing on the edge of the coffee table. Rolling papers, and two joints were piled on top of it, along with various baggies of god knows what. Chips were ground into the carpet, their sharp edges making the carpet glitter with nacho cheese and tortilla shrapnel. And sitting opened and probably now dry, was the blue nail polish you had gotten with Robin. The whole place reeked of the dirty rotten scent of spilled stale beer soaking cotton fabric, the remnants of weed wafting from the furniture baking into the fibers from the sun streaming through the windows in lazy strips of golden yellow.

Homicide is probably what? 10 years? You could manage that.

You make your way into the culprits room, swearing under your breath and feeling the sweat start on the back of your neck. Pushing through the heap of clothes and worn boots, you find the prince of trash laying on his back, soft snores escaping his slack mouth. There aren’t even sheets on his mattress, just mountains of his belongings.

A beer is taped crudely to his left hand, your brand new bottle of jergens lays next to him along with a playboy— flipped open to a brunette with obvious fake tits and her lips placed into an orgasm. He apparently threw some boxers on during his midnight raccoon shenanigans.

This is comparable to bringing home a dog from the humane society, you aren’t sure how they’ll act but once you go to sleep— all hell breaks lose.

“Eddie,” you yell, loud enough that your own ears are ringing. He doesn’t move a muscle, just a loud snore erupting from him. You kick at his legs, push his body around but nothing. If it weren’t for the snoring you probably should have called a coroner.

One last slap against his bare chest and he finally groans, “gimme five more minutes baby and I promise I’ll rock your world.” Jesus Christ.

Fuck it, just go to work, you can deal with him when you get home. Breath in and out. Nope— the fuse that was lit in your brain from Eddie’s mess inches its way slowly towards the dynamite, licking up the wick. Also like a dog from the shelter, they need to be trained, told when they are doing something wrong, and immediately corrected.

Filling a cup with cold water you waltz back into his room a smile plastered to your lips.

The splash of water against Eddie’s face is music to your ears as he gasps for breath. Spluttering and sitting up, spilling the beer taped to his hand, he looks like a cat that was thrown in the tub, long curls soaking wet, his bangs parted and thrown back from the force of the water hitting him.

“Damn sweetheart, I said give me five minutes and I’d give you all ten inches of my co—” the plastic cup bounces off of Eddie’s head. “Okay, ow. Goddamn what was that for?!”

“What was that for?! Look around Eddie!” You motion around the house as he stands up holding his head and pressing the palm of his right hand into his eye, dragging it down his face to wipe the remnants of cold water away, “this place is disgusting!”

You begin to list off everything wrong, as you walk around the house, Eddie following begrudgingly behind you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You point out the chips in the carpet, the hardened cheese plate, the vhs mess. Each and everything you show him your voice gets higher and higher and louder and louder. The rage bubbling up in your body as you huff around. A large hand and the odd sensation of a rubbery plastic mass spin you around, holding onto your shoulders.

Eddie’s face is so close to yours, you can see the sun reflecting off the usual darkened browns of his eyes, bringing a goldmine to the muddy surface.

“Tooty— it’s far too early for this shit,” he speaks slowly, the Cheshire Cat like grin on his stupid face spreads across his lips revealing his straight white teeth, “you need to relax a little bit.” He notices the weight of the beer can and tips it back into his mouth, chugging the rest of it and smacking his lips when he’s done. Adding a deafening belch upwards to the ceiling.

You curl your lip in disgust and shove his arm off of you. “What? Hair of the dog baby, gotta keep drinking to avoid a hangover.”

Crossing your arms and taking a step back from him, you take a deep breath, “I don’t know how you lived in the trailer park, and frankly— I don’t give a fuck—but, you will not, make a mess of my house. Either, clean this shit up before I get home from work, or I’ll personally move your crap out to the lawn. Got it?”

His smile fades, and his eyebrows pull together, eyes squinted. The hum of the ceiling fan is the only noise in the house. “Are you threatening me at 7:30 in the morning?” he asks, checking his watch, towering over you. No doubt he is trying to freak you out.

It takes everything in you to not slap him upside the head.

You stand your ground, not letting his carved jaw and mean eyed demeanor get the best of you.

“Damn right I am. I’ll have your shit lying on the lawn like a horrendous Halloween yard sale. Just because the whole town thinks you're some psycho, bastard doesn’t mean I do— you don’t scare me, Munson,” his surname falling from your lips like agent orange, thick and heavy painting the air around you both. Your head held high, eyes glaring back into his. His bravado falters and he also crosses his arms, matching your energy.

“Maybe you should pull the stick out of your ass before it splinters, babe.” Eddie chides back, lips spreading manically across his face.

Neither of you will let the other win, and if you didn’t have to go to work, you would stand here all day arguing with him. You poke a manicured nail into his chest. “You owe me a new bottle of lotion.” With that you push past him and make your way into the bathroom to finish getting ready.

“It was either that or the mayonnaise, sweetheart!”

-

You had always found comfort working at Josie’s. She had taken you on immediately after finishing Cosmetology school at Empire Beauty School in Indianapolis, giving you full time hours and helping you buy your supplies. Nancy had dropped down to part time, working for both the Hawkins Post and cutting hair on the side. Josie was like an older sister to you, and you loved her dearly.

After doing matching perm sets on a mother and daughter, a trim on your regular client, Audrey, and catching up with the latest gossip from Molly about her date that ended with them making out in his car—it was time for your lunch break.

The leftover half of a tuna salad sandwich stared you down from its cellophane wrapper, begging you to ingest the soggy yet stale bread. A stomach ache waiting to happen. Tossing it into the trash, you settle for Marlboro menthols and a Diet Coke. The sun is high in the sky, begging you to enjoy it.

You shed your vest as you sit on the back patio, leaning your head against the neon pink and white striped plastic pool chair lounger, stretching your legs out and kicking off your sandals. You accept the sun’s rays into your skin. Sunglasses poised on your face and a cigarette tucked between your mauve painted lips, you pretend you’re in a movie.

But you’re not— you’re in the middle of Butthole, Indiana. The only exciting thing that happened here was the possibility of hearing the latest town gossip about someone’s cousin, friend, or ex getting knocked up by the high school football star.

You longed for a day off where you and Robin could enjoy the once luxurious but not desolate woods of Lover’s Lake. Nothing but the peaceful breeze to fill your mind and the light rustle of the leaves.

Nancy pulled the blue matching chair up next to you, curling her legs beneath her as you silently pull your lighter from your pocket and hand it to her. A small cloud of smoke dances around your face as she lights her cigarette inhaling deeply.

“Ready for the honeymoon?” You ask her as she inches her way down the seat, a slight squeak to the rubbery plastic as she settles her body in.

Nancy and Jonathan had gotten married two months ago. The wedding was pristine and beautiful in typical Nancy fashion. Her glorious curls in a French twist, soft tendrils framing her youthful face. A pearl colored lace gown billowing behind her and sleeves puffed around her shoulders with dainty lace decorating down her delicate wrists. She looked incredible.

You cried standing beside Holly and El in your peach colored satin gowns, wiping your eyes when they read their nuptials, vowing to be together during sickness and in health. Will, Argyle, and Mike stood beside Jonathan trying like hell to stand upright as the bachelor party spilled into the midnight hours, Mike, paler than usual and Will, drenched with sweat under the beaming lights of the church. Argyle was the only one smiling through the entire ceremony, moving his head to the rhythm of the organ.

Karen had wept and gathered you into a tight hug for helping style the bridal party’s hair that morning, and for being such a wonderful roommate to Nancy. Ted checked his watch every half hour, and kept an eye on the punch which seemingly looked to get darker and darker throughout the night.

Joyce and Hopper held each other close and danced slow to every song played. Their undying love for one another evident on their faces.

A very drunk Murray Bauman hollered obscenities behind the bar, obviously taking advantage of the open bar night as he mixed drinks for the Wheeler and Byer wedding guests, heavy on the liquor. It wasn’t until grandma Wheeler grabbed the mic and started singing Frank Sinatra that someone caught on to Murray’s antics.

You had danced and laughed along with your high school classmates all night, spilling champagne and beer onto the community center floor, the bottom of

Nancy’s dress turned an ugly smoke gray. It was a perfect summer wedding, one that all of Hawkins would be talking about for years to come.

Nancy stretched her back and twisted her neck to look at you, blue eyes peering over round colored lenses, “Yes, I can’t wait to dip my toes in the ocean,” she says beaming, “we’ve been going to the pool pretty often these last few weeks trying to tan Jonathan a little bit so he doesn’t burn like a piece of bread in Cancun.”

A giggle bubbles on her lips as you laugh along with her. “Any luck on finding a roommate?”

You had been dreading this conversation. Originally you had hoped that Erica Sinclair or even Max would maybe want to be your roommate. Sadly they were both either starting college or finishing up their degree this year—Lucas turned down a full ride basketball scholarship to be with Max. Even the boys had places to go. Dustin and Suzy were finishing their summer internships and moving in together—he had plans on proposing after summer’s end. Will lived in Indianapolis, he became a teacher’s aid after finishing his Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, hoping to one day become a professor. Mike and El lived in Hopper’s cabin, tucked deep in the woods. Celebrating being together for almost 10 years. It was quite literally just you— single, and desperate for a roommate.

“Yeah— I uhh— they moved in last night actually,” you said through a wall of smoke nonchalantly. Lighting another cigarette to power through this conversation.

Nancy is picking at her cuticles and flipping through Cosmo as she asks who answered the ad.

A nervous laugh surpasses your lips, “Eddie,” you say in almost a question.

Nancy stops moving entirely. The ash from her cigarette threatening it’s length. She shakes her head and corrects herself, “Sorry, I think I had a stroke… did you say Eddie? As in Eddie Munson?”

You throw your arm over your eyes and slip further into the chair, hoping it would swallow you whole. A groan escapes your lips followed by your confirmation.

“There was no one else! Everyone is off at school, or getting engaged— he was the only one to show up and look at the house! Plus he forked out more cash than I had originally been asking for so obviously he can afford the rent.”

“Probably drug money,” Nancy coughed.

“Honestly I don’t care if he robbed a bank, the money is there and right now—” the threat of what your life could become stings like a wasp in your brain, red ink showing final notice, light switches not working due to the electricity being shut off, before Eddie moved in— you were well on your way to that lifestyle. “that is what matters.”

Nancy huffs in disagreement, taking a breath to settle her nerves. “I don’t know him personally— but just be careful. Wait, wasn’t he friends with—”

“Yup.” You quip, tight lipped and short, “Robin and Steve know him too.”

“That's what I had thought, well at least he’s not like, a total stranger then.”

Nancy listens intently to the horrors of the past 24 hours at the house she once lived in. Twisting her wedding ring around her small fingers, she had never been more thankful to be married.

-

The work day ended later than you had hoped, a last minute client showed up begging for a “quick perm” — as if there were such a thing. You waved goodbye as you reminded her of the strict no washing policy when it came to maintaining her curls in place. You sweep the floor in a rush and place your combs and scissors in the blue barbicide. Putting away the perm rods and wiping down the surfaces. Switching over the laundry so at least the towels would be dry by the time you opened on Monday morning.

You were tired and your back felt a little stiff. You shut off the radio, still humming Material Girl, to yourself as you turned off the lights and locked the door.

The drive home was short, your small Ford escort a blur through the streets of Hawkins. You could hear your bed calling you, maybe you’d make yourself a grilled cheese and do some laundry so you wouldn’t have to do it tomorrow. But when you pulled into your driveway you realized you wouldn’t be relaxing at all tonight.

The garage door was pulled open, a makeshift banner with red and black spray painted letters on it spelled out “Corroded Coffin”, a better glance at it and you could see it was the same pattern as your spare bed sheets that you kept in the linen closet. The garbage cans were moved out of the way and tossed into the front yard. Cords from amps and a microphone were plugged into every outlet your small garage could offer. A drum set was in the back beside the shelf that held old paint cans full of lead. The floppy blond haired idiot slammed a Busch Light as he twirled a drumstick in his hand. Two members of the band were head banging along to the guitar solo that Eddie was plucking away at. His fingers moved fluidly over the fretboard. Years of practice evident in the dexterity of his hands. The muscles in his arms tight and flexed, veins protruding around them. There were beer cans scattered all around them. Another dirty thirty, no doubt. Fries were spilling out of empty fast food bags and greasy burger wrappers were littering the ground. The push mower was laying on its side, in the middle of the driveway. The rake snapped in half.

The slam of your car door goes unheard.

The unhinged quirk of your jaw starts to ache as you clench your teeth, stomping towards the garage band. The guitar solo ends just as you get to the garage. They’re all hollering and cheering as Eddie whips his head back, long sweaty strands of his curls whipping around as he tries to catch his breath. Holding the beer at arms length, he pours it into his mouth, light amber colored lager flowing down his chin and the expanse of his neck.

“Fuckin’ told you Jeff,” Eddie says, throwing the beer to the ground at the other guitarists feet, “don’t matter if its been five or fifteen years— I can still play that Master of Puppets solo.” A smug smile spreads across his mouth as he pulls a joint from his back pocket, and lights it between lips.

Jeff swings his guitar off his neck and places it on one of the amps, “yeah, yeah whatever man— you gonna share that or just keep gloating?”

You are standing on the driveway, hands on your hips, weight balancing on one leg, the other straight out, foot tapping in annoyance, waiting for the band of rejects to notice your throat clearing.

“Tooty!” They all yell in unison.

Your expression doesn’t fade. Jaw unhinged, lips pressed together tightly. The icy cold of your stare burrowing into Eddie’s beer and sweat soaked skin, a hazy film around him as he exhales the joint.

“Aww, sweetheart, what’s the matter?” He says with fake concern, a smirk curled on his lips, “you mad you missed the jam sesh?” Eddie croons, the tip of the joint goes red as he inhales again and passes it to Jeff, “don’t worry we do this every other night I’m sure you’ll catch the next one.”

The garage fills with echoing drunk laughs and the asshole on the drums hits a ba dum tss. Causing Eddie to choke on his exhale and start a coughing fit. He’s doubled over laughing as he forces the smoke from his lungs.

“Not here you’re not.”

He looks from you to the guys, all four dumbstruck by your words.

“Please tell me, Tooty, why I, a paying resident of this house,” he says, gesturing wildly around him, taking long legged steps towards you, head dipping and turning to catch your gaze, “am not ‘allowed’ to practice with my band, in a garage that we share?”

He’s lowering his head down to you, the ends of his sweaty curls licking your cheeks as he closes the gap between you, rubbing a hand across his chin, that same smirk on his face as always.

“Hmm?”

You let out an exhausted sigh. After a long day at work the only thing you had wanted to do was relax— not deal with Eddie’s antics.

“I’m not going to entertain your little half-witted dreams from middle school on being the next Kirk Hammett— find somewhere else to play rockstar, and get this shit out of here.”

You shove past him and the band as you stomp through the door leading into the kitchen, hanging up your keys. A quick look around made your head spin.

The house looked worse now than it did when you left for work. Dishes piled along each surface on the counters and into the sink, the microwave was open with what looked like the remnants of a spaghetti-o explosion, a beer can pyramid was starting in the living room. A burnt aluminum pan of jiffy pop sat on the stove, charred on the bottom. The trash bag suitcases Eddie had packed his belongings with, were now thrown in between his room and the hallway.

You were fed up with this bullshit, it had been 24 hours and he was already on your last nerve. Dragging both hands down your face in sheer fatigue, you grab a roll of trash bags from under the sink. Walking heavy footed back to the door, making as much noise as possible, you fling open the door, four pairs of wide eyes stare you down as you shake open the garbage bag.

“Here, let me help you because apparently you don’t have any common fucking sense.” You stomp over to Eddie and rip another bag free from the roll and toss it to him.

In the best condescending tone you can muster you explain, “This, is a garbage bag. Oooh, ahhh. Cool right? See? When you are done with something and it’s empty,” you educate the gaggle of degenerates, “you pick it up, and throw it away! Wow.” You demonstrate for them, picking up an empty can of beer and placing it in the bag.

“See how easy that is? Now,” you say turning towards Eddie your eyes lost of any endearment, “Do you think you big boys could handle that? Or do you need written instructions?”

A scoff is heard from behind you, as it’s now your turn to smirk, stomping back up the steps and into the kitchen, slamming the door hard behind you.

-

Huffing and puffing, you know that the house will never get clean if you don’t do it yourself. You change into a faded Hawkins High shirt and a pair of old worn cotton shorts with paint smears on the hips from when you and Nancy tackled painting the living room last summer, as you set to work on the kitchen. Pulling on a pair of rubber yellow gloves, you make work on cleaning the mess Eddie had made. The soft hum of your kitchen radio plays as Pearl Jam invades the background. You first fill the sink with the hottest water the faucet allowed, dousing the dishes with dish soap. You’re carrying around the garbage can, picking up empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and the charcoal mess of black popcorn on the the stove.

You don’t hear him enter the kitchen, your mind far away to another time, when Nancy lived with you and the only problem she caused was paying rent a week early. He advances towards you and stops in front of you, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath.

“What’s your fuckin’ problem? You can be a bitch to me all you want, but the guys don’t deserve that.”

You set the garbage can down by your feet, a rubber glove shoved into his chest, “If you think I give a fuck about what they deserve, you are sadly mistaken! I deserve to not have my house completely trashed every time I turn my back!”

“I didn’t know I was living in a fucking convent, Sister Tooty.” Eddie argues, proud of his comeback he leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest, “that why you never get laid?”

You roll your eyes, “fucking yourself with a beer can taped to your hand isn’t exactly getting laid, Munson. But keep it up, you won’t be living here for long if you keep acting like a fucking pig!”

“Again, with your empty threats, sweetheart. Isn’t it tiring being so mad all the time— careful, looks Iike you’re already getting wrinkles.” A throaty laugh escapes his mouth and he sweeps his thumb between your eyebrows, trying to joke around and diffuse the tension growing between you both.

You swat your hands at him and pull away, a look of disgust and frustration planted on your face.

“Jesus,” he says irritated, “Harrington told me that your family moved away— didn’t know it was because you’re such a stone-cold bitch.”

Without even thinking, you shove him hard in the chest. He goes crashing backwards, the rest of the cluttered items on the counter cascade to the floor with loud thuds. Your cheeks are heated, and your eyes glisten with tears, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. You look at your socked feet and back up to him. Your lip quivering, head held high.

His expression is stunned, not angry like you thought he would be. A look of worry washes over his face as he realizes he crossed the line. Anger ran its course as he recognizes that he hurt you.

“Ah fuck,” he breathes, putting his head down and shaking his long mane. He looks back up to your face, still steady, not daring to let those traitorous tears fall.

“Tooty, I’m— I’m sorry.”

You pluck off your rubber gloves and toss them to the counter, making a dash to the bathroom and locking the door. Eddie doesn’t hear your crying, drowned out from the shower head as he starts to clean up his mess.

vol iii

—

A/N: thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed! If your name is crossed out on the Taglist it means your settings are more than likely set to private and you’re not allowed to be tagged!

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[jonesywrites]

I feel compelled, so I must.

*Now with images for context

Man I shit you not, I have so much stuff to do like SO MUCH but I also have ADHD and a tendency toward hyperfixation so I am compelled, I tell you.

I'm writing for a whole ass other ship, filming, and editing for my YT channel. But I saw gifs, and I read tweets, and I saw hot takes and then I decided to react to Season 3 Part I for my channel.

I AM OBSESSED.

I'm in the middle of editing my reactions to Ep 1-4 and I just HAVE to chime in with these observations I keep having as I go through and re-live each Polin scene while editing. I know some of this has been seen/said before but I'm a newb to this fandom and I just finished listening to all of the audiobooks (save Simon and Daphne's story) so I just gotta! I OBSERVED A LOT and there's a lot here, so . . .

Colin turns to the Featherington house as soon as he arrives home and greets his family.

Because whether he's aware of it or not, he's thinking of one of those Featheringtons, who happens to be standing there as he debuts "the new Colin" to the people he cares about the most -- which includes Pen, they are telegraphing to us in this moment -- (right after testing some of that newfound charm on a gaggle of giggly girls). I don't think he greets her right away because he isn't ready yet but you can see his smile/smirk when he spots her -- like "Yep, Pen, feast your eyes, it's the new me, and NOW I'll bet you'll want to hear about my travels."

Eloise is the first person to spot that he may not really be into this "new Colin".

The show GOES OUT OF ITS WAY to let you know this isn't really Colin, that his heart isn't really into it, from jump. The siblings Bridgerton do a little "we see each other" when he questions her about trying to fit into society after all this time -- they're two sides of the same coin. He's too sensitive and romantic for the rakes of the ton and she's too independent and free-thinking for the boring trappings of the marriage mart, but here they both are. Pretending.

Colin goes out of his way to test his new charm on half the ladies at the Queen's garden party thing BEFORE he approaches Pen to talk for the first time since he got back -- at first glance he's just doing his thing, being the new him, enjoying himself and his new ability to woo the ladies but IT IS THIS AUTHOR'S HUMBLE OPINION THAT HE WAS TESTING HIS CHARM TO ITS LIMITS BEFORE HE WENT OVER TO THE ONE GIRL HE ACTUALLY WANTS TO/TRUELY ENJOYS CONVERSING WITH TO LAY IT ON HER.

Wanna bet me he wasn't thinking about Pen while he was away, wondering why she wasn't answering, plotting to talk to her when he got back, plotting to see if his new charm would work on her because she's Pen and her opinion means a lot to him? He doesn't get why yet but it's there -- the tip of the iceberg, only a strong desire for her attention and approval right now, but I can sooooo see how that started to quickly burn into a much more intense desire for just...her.

I adore how Penelope asks the dressmaker for new dresses in the fashion of "what they are wearing in Paris" after Colin tells her his new wardrobe is what's all the rage in Paris from is travels.

He always counts on her just being Pen in the citrus colors hanging on the wall, a safe place, but then he sees her in that green dress and I truly believe this is the moment he realizes -- nah fam, this isn't just "Pen my friend who doesn't count (as a woman)", this is "wow who is that woman in the striking color with pretty lips and fiery red hair?"

This poor lovesick fellow has no idea why every time he sees her at a ball his heart does a funny thing and he suddenly can't see anyone else and he gets the urge to drink whatever's in his hand/close by.

HEY BABE IT'S BECAUSE YOU LIKE HER. A LOT. She isn't just Pen who doesn't count, she is SPECIAL.

Much has been said about the "Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton" scene, but I'll just add that you can tell when Colin is being genuine and totally himself vs when he's trying to charm her into relaxing with him/being more like her usual self.

When he says "the colour rather suits you," he's being her good friend who is pleased to see her looking so good but he's also saying that to himself, judging by his tone, like "yeah girl you should wear green more often, this makes you look damn good". And when he says he misses her, he means it, but you can also hear the armor of that New Colin Charm in his tone. It's a vulnerable thing to admit, so he uses a devilish smile and has a wink in his eyes because so far that has worked on every girl here since he got back. Not Pen, though ... he was SHOOK when she rebuffed him and called him cruel.

Yes, he is absolutely panicked that he might lose his one true friend in all of the fickle ton, but also . . . Colin is totally realizing how hot Pen is in the garden scene. Colin is looking into her gorgeous eyes and admitting how she makes him feel and you can see the real-time realization in his eyes/expression. Handshake? He is acting on his impulse to touch her while using his newfound charm to disguise his curiosity.

Colin wants to hang out with her as much as possible because that's how comfortable and appreciated she makes him feel but also it's my opinion that he, at least subconsciously, also wants to keep looking at her, getting closer to her, winning her favor. He's not even thinking about the results of the whole charm lessons thing, he's just thinking about being around Penelope as much as possible because of that realization that she makes existing in a world that is determined to misunderstand him (and has "forced" him to don a mask/facade to survive) bearable.

I agree with those who pointed out that he is taken aback by Pen's awkward flirting session with the fan because normally when they're alone talking all he sees/experiences is her wit, intelligence, keen ability to read between the lines of their society, etc.

Also, you can see he doesn't even care what the other blokes think of her, he thinks she's friggin adorable -- he can't keep the smile off his face even as he's sympathizing with her for going down faster than the Titanic-which-doesn't-exist-yet-duh-but-analogy-with-me-here.

Every moment of the private lesson scene, from him instantly abandoning the card game with his siblings to the way he planned out the whole thing and thought about where everyone would be and what window of time they'd have to "practice" shows THAT HE WAS IN FACT VERY EAGERLY AWAITING HER VISIT for their lesson. Matter of fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who suggested the game in the garden to get everyone out of the house in anticipation of Pen’s arrival.

It is this author's humble opinion that Colin really, really wanted to pretend to flirt with Penelope to satisfy his nagging, subconscious (yet fluttering to the surface) curiosity and I AM WILLING TO BET MY TWIN SISTER'S WHOLE 2024 SALARY that (especially after her compliment shook him to his core) they wouldn't have made it much longer without him kissing her if they hadn't been interrupted and she had't read his journal.

He wanted alone time, he wanted intimacy, he wanted to flirt -- they would have charmed each other right into each other's pants if those lessons were allowed to continue, mark my words.

Colin's body was at least several weeks ahead of him. The body doesn't lie. Touching her skin in the garden. Leaning into her whenever they speak (with the convenient excuse of their height difference), pressing his palm into her lower back to escort her to the drawing room, sitting and letting her hold his hand for an unnecessarily long pause before forcing himself to stop staring at her and end the impropriety (escape the intensity of the moment to breathe and process, more like).

Jealous Colin(tm) with his intense eyes and hard jawline is everything and hot af, end of observation.

I love Dream Pen for Colin. The way he dressed her. The way his mind envisions her being breathless for him.

The way he pictures himself just holding her close and indulging in hot, sultry kisses until she's practically melting in his arms. THIS IS WHAT HE DREAMS ABOUT, WHAT HE TRULY WANTS. This boy is a Romantic with a capital ROMANTIC and I JUST LOVE how his dream about Pen reflects that so clearly. We've seen him struggling to pay attention or care in brothels but he displays more sexual intensity, passion, and lust in this romantic wet dream about simply confessing his feelings than any other time he's seen on screen with a woman he's supposed to find attractive.

The "Sweet Treats" scene, as I believe I've seen others pointing out, is --yes, sweet-- at a glance. But also HOT AF. He's pining, he's nervous, he's jealous, she's so sweet and lovely confessing her excitement and hopes for the match with Deblin. But it's also hot b/c I meeeean....The pink everywhere (pink walls, get it), her lips and his reaction to her glancing her tongue across them, his fingers flexing out of nerves but also the subconscious urge to touch, maybe even caress, is all in his stiff, hovering body language. Like, if he could shove those treats off one of those tables, throw her against it and ravage her "sweet treat" right then there in that pink little tent, homeboy totally would have if society/propriety/scandal/watching eyes weren't a concern.

SIDENOTE: I think Deblin was definitely attracted to Pen, it wasn't SOLELY a practical match for him.

He says she can make men wither within seconds of their first meeting and he definitely looks at her in a way that says he's charmed, intrigued, impressed, etc. So I think even they married, eventually he would start to miss her while away, then ache for her, then he would come home to her and he would fall. Gradually maybe, but I do believe Pen was right to hope love could grow between them. However, I'm so so sooo glad neither of them settled.

WHAT CAN BE SAID ABOUT THE CARRIAGE SCENE THAT HASN'T ALREADY BEEN SAID??? It's one of the hottest love scenes I've ever seen, and it's not because everybody is naked or because there's kink or anything crazy. It's because (for me) the actors TRULY CARE ABOUT THE DETAILS. Almost every frame has something you can freeze and stare at in awe, they DID THAT. Colin finally FEELING IT, with the one person who can truly see him and inspire those deep feelings he's been yearning for was HOT AF. Pen basically being at his mercy but also realizing her power over him and embracing it by letting him ruin her because it's COLIN (she wouldn't let anyone else do that, IMO, not even Deblin). MY FAVORITE PART:

At the end, when they exhale and slump into each other/the carriage seat in sync. She looks like she's never felt anything like this in her life (cuz she ain't) and he looks like he's finally HOME. And I'm not talking about his family's estate -- I specifically mean right there in Penelope's bosom, between her legs, her breath, her eyes, her moans for him, like he looks relieved and satisfied AND THEN HE'S LIKE "SO I'M NEVER LETTING THIS GO. DONE DEAL, YOU'RE MY PENELOPE, NOW."

Ugh. I loooove this couple! I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY BODY. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. Gonna add stills for the moments I mention once Tumblr stops being a bitch.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Miss Fairytale Keeper, Come Have Fun With Us: Nica Schwartz END

Translations will not include screenshots or CGs as mentioned here. Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

Nica: I’m proud that you chose me in this case, Miss.

Nica grabbed my hand tightly and pulled me up.

Nica: Now then, let’s get out of here quickly.

He cracked his neck and drew a gun from his holster.

Kate: [Gasp] !

He shoots and kills those attacking us without hesitation.

Kate: Don’t kill them!

He paused at my words for a moment, but didn’t stop pulling the trigger.

Nica: Look, Robin,[1]

Kate: What…..?

The corpse lying on the floor was extremely emaciated and poorly dressed.

Nica: This is fate of the foolish who’ve lost everything by gambling.

Nica: What the hell did he bet? It’s definitely more than money.

Kate: That’s-

Nica: Besides,

He laughed and aimed his gun at a man who was attacking him,

Nica: I, hate people without money or power.[2]

BANG, a dry sound rang out and the man fell to his knees.

(There’s no hesitation in killing other people…..)

His cold eyes were so spine-chilling that I nearly stopped in my tracks, but the reason we definitely were able to escape, was because he held a gun.

[At the sea port.]

Nica: Ahh, what a terrible fire. It’s all over now.

The flames that appeared from the building in the distance grew stronger, and black smoke melted into the night sky.

Nica: Your mission from the Queen was a failure, Miss fairytale keeper.

In contrast my being stunned, Nica spoke lightly with the corners of his mouth raised.

Kate: I’m going home!

(I need to leave Nica and quickly find Jude….)

The man in front of me was the kind of person who can kill without hesitation.

It’s scary that he doesn’t feel anything for the lives he took away.

(Crown members have had to kill in order to conquer evil,)

But it was for the sake of the mission, not for personal feelings -

(Nica, he killed them because he didn’t like them.)

The moment I tried to let go of his hand to leave the place,

Kate: [Jolt] !

I was pulled hard and my heart pounded.

Nica: Did you think you could just go home?

(I can’t stop my heart from pounding probably because of everything that’s happened.)

Nica: Is your heart beating hard right now because of my ability?

Kate: What?

Nica: My ability is that anyone who holds my hand becomes charmed by me. [3]

Nica: You’ve been completely taken in by my ability.

(My heart’s been racing because of Nica?!)

I let go of his hand in a hurry, but this time he held my wrist.

Kate: Did you use it on the women at the casino too?

Nica: Well, even if we didn’t hold hands, my charm was enough for them to fall in love with me.

Nica starts walking and talking calmly.

Nica: Even if you all desperately try to crush it, this is just the tip of the iceberg, and it’ll happen over and over again.

Nica: It’s a daily occurrence in every country.

Kate: ….I don’t want that to become a daily occurrence, so I’m doing what I can.

When I stopped in my tracks, he smiled with a complicated look on his face.

Nica: ….It’s so dazzling that’s it’s unpleasant.

Suddenly, my wrist was released.

Nica: You’re so dazzling that I wanted a kiss from you, but I lost the bet.

Kate: How do you know that?

Nica: Because at the last moment, I could see the ball going into the number chosen by Mr. Company President with the evil looking eyes.

(Are you talking about Jude having a evil look…..)

It's hard to describe the way that expression captures those characteristics.

Nica: Unfortunately, we’ll have to postpone.

But his lips came close to the back of my hand.

Kate: Hasn’t it been postponed?!

When I reflexively pulled my hand away from his face, he had a wide smile.

Nica: Wouldn’t it be nice if you thanked me for saving you?

Kate: Thank you?

Nica: Kiss me, if you can’t do it, I’ll do it for you.

The voice that came from the lips close to my ear was extremely seductive.

Nica: ….So, where do you want it?

(It’s dangerous to just go along with this person….)

If I accept it, I feel like I'll fall into the depths of Nica and won't be able to return.

Kate: I- I’ll do it myself!

Sensing a dangerous situation, I grabbed his sleeve,

Nica: Huh,

I lowered my lips onto his slender, beautiful fingertips.

Kate: …..Thank you for your help!

Kate: Is this okay?!

Growing desperate and embarrassed, I let go of his sleeve as he froze in surprise.

Then Nica’s expression changed -

Nica: Ahaha! What’s that?

He started bursting into laughter, and this time I was the one who was surprised.

Nica: You’re so funny, I’ve never met someone like you before.

Kate: You’re making fun of me aren’t you.

Nica: Now, which do you think it is?

Kate: I’m going home first!

I leave him as he’s still laughing.

(The mission didn’t go well, and I was teased, it’s been a rough day.)

The sea breeze-scented air was a bit chilly, perfect for cooling down the evening heat.

Nica smiled happily as he watched her small back walk away.

Nica: I was only teasing you, but you and did something amusing.

She’s so pure and honest, I never thought she’d kiss me.

Nica: I’m becoming more and more interested.

Nica’s smiled deepened as he started walking, while she made a gesture to release the heat from her cheeks.

Nica: She truly is a cute robin.[1]

Ftn [1] - After receiving confirmation from a friend who is native in JP, it seems Nica is just calling her “robin” in this context in a casual form. Which makes sense because his overall tone is super casual. He does use Katakana to distinguish when he calls her “robin” in German, but it depends on the context, like his first CE story. Ftn [2] - This could also be rendered as “dislike,” as 嫌い ‘Kirai’, denotes hatred/dislike/disagreeable, but I chose hate because he’s killing people left and right without thought. Ftn [3] - 魅了 “Miryō”, has several meanings: charm; fascinate; to captivate; to mesmerize; to enthrall; to hold spellbound. I’m choosing to use charmed in this context and future translations until further information is learned about his curse.

[Master List] [Nica Epilogue] Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Tags list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko Please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tags list!

Eeeeek, I was SUPER nervous translating this because I don't know a lot about Nica's personality, speech or other mannerisms. This will be interesting to see how my translations for him will develop over time, so for now, please expect them to be a bit bare and basic since I'm trying to be cautious. I really liked Nica's end personally, and I have a character dissection planned too, after the epilogue is completed.

[ikkosu]

REWIND / CHROMEDOME

(adopting gn!human reader)

a/n : been wanting a cute fluffy request I hope I wrote them uh satisfactorily 😭😭 I actually enjoyed writing about baby and cdrw maybe I’ll write more scenarios with this little family ughhh so cute

"Alright folks, we're leaving in thirty minutes!" Rodimus's voice echoed through the speaker.

"It's either you get on or get off the ship forever— Er, ah...oh what's that? We're not allowed to leave when— Damn it. Apologies, there's been a restatement by Ultra Magnus declaring it's illegal, you guessed it, for whatever reasons I'm not bothered enough to care. Blah, blah blah. Oh, shut it drift. Anyways, latecomers are welcomed in the brig. Buckle up in thirty! Rodimus out."

Rewind swivelled his gaze from the rock nestled on the grass, then to the ship, hovering not too far from where he's crouching. "Huh, guess I'm taking a detour." Then, his camera skims over the verdant fields of rolling hills. Red lights, blinking. "Won't hurt, would it?"

The LL had a short break stopping on Earth, mostly for refuelling, fresh air, stretching limbs,,,totally not because Brainstorm blew up the left wing again and The Science Team had to patch things up discreetly

Seriously, where is HR when you need it?

And, obviously, the Archivist is not missing the opportunity to explore, of course. It's earth! Home to,,,well,,,,the most complex (derogatory) kinds in the cosmos. And, this rock he's been examining? It's an extraterrestrial mineral. Figments of rocks from asteroids, comets, and the like originating outside of the Earth. Crazy, huh.

Better keep that for safekeeping.

Aside from, ah, well wandering where he's able to film stuff, occasionally animals and cows of the like, it's more like a need, at the moment, for a bit of (lets put this gently) space away from his conjunx — since, he's been acting like an ass of late.

Ahem, going behind his, ahem back to doing ahem Mnemosurgery....again.

It's not even an 'again' anymore, it's just borderline often

Why does he even bother to listen? You can't break old habits, as Ratchet would say. They'd break themselves before they could ever stop.

"So that's it? You're just going to ignore me like that?" Footsteps pattered behind him

Rewind huffs, walking faster. "Took you long enough to figure it out, genius."

He groans. "Oh for— Primus sake, Rewind, come on. Don't do this. We can talk."

"Oh sure, sure! Talk." He threw his hands up, whirling around to face his conjux. "That's what you always say, promising me like you're going to get your eyes gorged out if you didn't. What else, tell Red Alert to stop being paranoid and Whirl, a psychopathic ass?"

Chromedome palms his face. Primus, this apology isn't going well as he expected it to. "Look, I messed up. I breached a trust you had in me. I shouldn't have done it. That was very... inconsiderate....of me..."

"What is this, eight grade? Spelling bee on who's responsible?"

"That's not the point! You can't just—"

And, so it begins. The bickering. The blaming. Hand pointing. Arguments ablaze, never listening. Voice raising — just the tip of the iceberg, not even close to it's full potential.

"I bet my words doesn't mean anything to you now, does it?"

"It's does, Rewind. It does!"

"Hey! Stay there! Don't even come any closer or I swear to Primus I'll—"

A cry gurgled out amidst the bushes.

The Mnemosurgeon stiffens. He looking around for the source of the cry when he notices conjux was staring at him. "What?"

"Wow. Wow. Low blow, Chrome dome." Rewind puffs and presses his fists on his hips. " Low blow. I didn't think you'd do this. You're gonna resort to mocking me, now?"

He sputters. " You think that was me?"

"Yeah, blame it on the cows. Blame it on 'em like you do when avoid all responsibility."

"What's even a cow? Oh, for—" Then suddenly he lets out a surprised sound, dropping to crouch next to a bush. Rewind doesn't bother to look. Why would he? He's busy sulking and he wants that Mnemo-no-to-the-o to see it. Though, his audials tuned into a rustle of leaves when—

"There! Primus, Rewind look at this."

Said Archivist was still sulking, arms crossed, looking away. "Nuh, uh."

"Don't you nuh uh me." CD chuffs and figured actions were bigger than words so he scooped up the bundle of blankets and shoved it up his face. "Well? Still got film for this?"

Rewind takes a moment to register the visage.It was, if he knew his terms correctly, a human child. No, wait. A baby. It's the size of a sparkling but....smaller. And, significantly softer.

Most of all, it's crying. Coolant— er, tears streaming down the side of it's cheek. Gently, his servos curled around the scoop, nestling it softly against his chassis. He felt a kind of pull in is spark. Something fond pulsing. Chromedome loosened, looking away. What's the point? The mask already hid his smile.

"Seems pretty far from it's residential zone." Chromedome peers across the horizon searching for even the most recognizable specks of rooftops.

Nope, nothing.

Just rolls and rolls of green foliage.

"Hey there little fella." The Archivist coos, digit caressing the cheek to soothe it. The baby sniffled then blink, lifting up it's tiny fingers to bap his index. "What's a baby doing here of all places?Aren't human, uh, carrier, sires are very protective of their offsprings?"

Chromedome doesn't know what to say, he's not Ratchet or Percy, but he's sure as hell relieved their argument took a turn into park. "Misplacement, maybe."

"...How do you misplace a baby in a bush?"

"Things like that can happen, you know."

"If anything, it seemed like it's deliberately thrown in there. Look! It's even wrapped in a blanket."

He held it up for the Mnemosurgeon to see who, in turn, simply shrugged.

"Yeah. To keep it warm."

"Until someone finds them."

Chromedome narrows his optics. He's got a bad feeling about this. "Rewind. What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is that this child is deliberately left here to be found. We can't just leave it out here—"

"Are you saying we should steal it?''

"I'm not saying we should- ugh yes! I'm saying we should steal it—"

"You're kidnapping children now?"

Ratchet cuts through both of their comms, immediately barraging them, "Are you two idiots done squabbling with whatever stupid problem you have or are we gonna have to wait another fraggin' hour until you both make up and kiss?"

They had to take the baby, much to CD's dismay.

Ultra Magnus was losing his mind. What do you mean you found a baby in a ditch, in a bush, in a field of all places?! Even worse, literally miles and miles away from the nearest habitual region!

Purely, coincidental. He'll have to look in his files for crimes like this lest another is let loose for havoc. The young are the future for society! Something Cybertron is severely lacking in

Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable. Oh, and by the way, you're both going in the brig. You're late.

"Chromedome stalled me."

"Here, we go again."

Everyone is busy cooing and taking turns prodding the bab, and can someone please keep whirl away from the child he's armed, (with the exception of Megatron, the medics and UM) who didn't, mostly for the fear of passing diseases to it, mostly stood far with unimpressed looks on their faces.

First Aid, though, eventually took matters into his own hand,,, by taking it into his own hands and putting it in a glass box (shut up Brainstorm we're not using your stupid Polyhex Quadrilateral Box or whatever) to scan it's vitals and conditions

Everyone was outside, peering through the glass, prodding, helms jut at odd angles to see through the crowd — while the medics delicately assessed its condition.

Ratchet had to explain poor Rewind that not everyone wants children and not every parents are deserving of it so. He's seen this a lot in human culture.

"So they abandon babies just for the fun of it?!"

Well, he's got a point. Most of it at least. "Rewind.... no."

When they were done ensuring the baby is in optimal condition, Ratchet comes up to the, er couple, if he had to put it that way and crossed his arms, a brow raised.

"Do you trust yourselves enough to look after the child?"

"Might as well." CD sighs. ".... I've got enough responsibility on my plate, already."

"Nobody forced you to go back and take it." Rewind mutters.

Ratchet held up a servo to cut off another argument brewing. " I'm going to put this out clear."

A digit points to them. Ratchet grits his dentas and every word that spooled out of his vocalizer, more intense.

"You both are going to have to put your differences aside. You're going to resolve that problem of yours, and resolve it clean — not in front of the child, but behind. Go hide in a broom closet for all i care. Mutilate or incapacitate each other's limbs, if it helps. Fight all you want, kill each other if you have to. But this baby? This baby? You're going to give this child the most loving, caring family it can have. You hear?"

Shenanigans ensue.

Obviously, given they're Cybertronians, human anatomy isnt a topic they're very well versed with. Rewind does know a thing or two. But consulting videos are not really the best way to go when neither of them have the tools to feed the baby

Percy and Nautica (because he doesnt trust brainstorm) are tasked with concocting the milk formula. They're seen tinkering away in the lab, barring the other scientist against a let-me-in charade. Lab doors are locked and padlocked with a specific colde — suck it BS.

All elements, minerals and resources as such are to be provided Rodimus (begrudingly), then fact-checked by the medics, very, very carefully.

They're like guts deep in space and very far from earth. A quantum jump to said planet, in case of an emergency, can affect the only organic living onboard.

Moreover, Ratchet doesn't trust CDRW to learn the stuff themselves, so he holds five hour long sessions daily on how to provide sufficient needs for the baby. You know, handling them, playing with them, learning their gestures, mannerisms,,,etc

CD loves holding baby by the armpit, and especially loves it when he does that, baby tries to bap his face, squealing and babbling, trying to reach him— he finds that his chassis always melts a little.

Rewind, on the other hands, adores cradling baby in a blanket. He likes how warm and soft it is against his arms. And how easily it his to nestle baby under his chin as he walks.

He is the most affectionate from the two. And definitely records everything. Soccer mom-esque, cheering loud whenever baby does something' monumental, for instance, blabbering dada coherently. But also the most rigid. Like, lattice structured rigid.

''Rewind you watch snuff films you hypocrite, a Sunday cartoon getting a liiiiittle violent is nothing compared to the archives you go through." Rodimus wags the CD in front of the Archivist, an upturned pleading pout, pulling his features. He looked comical hunching to regard the smaller Archivist with baby nestled under his chin.

It was an obvious ploy to fiddle with the baby. Everyone's trying to get a nab of their little squeals, these days. Why wouldn't they?

Those adorable fats for cheeks, soft and cuddly, crawling around the habsuite like a cretin, gumming on everything they could find.

Skids managed dodging through the vents after a successful glimpse of peek-a-boo (Rewind forbids physical touch. He's not risking any disease that can be transferred.)

He slinked down and baby immediately latched onto his pedes, babbling for an upsie. It took him a while, and much restraint, not to take it through the vents

Swerve almost poisoned baby with the engex again because, in his own words, what's a little harm in trying new things?

He's now locked up in the brig, banned from touching baby ever .

This entire crew is a hazard and Rewind wasn't having it.

"Is this the same captain known for illegal conduct of meteor surfing?"

"....Oh, shut it."

Chromedome's not very affectionate but is less-rigid when it comes to baby. He's the type to cave in when they want something. Sweets? Oh, you want sweets? He doesn't care if the Lost Light is miles away from the nearest planet. He's going there and he's going now.

Stop him and he'll plunge those long, needle-like nails into mecha's skull, their ancestors could see Primus's aft whole again.

Hoards like,,,,around fifty satchels of sweets. It was only until Ambulon had a private chat with the Mnemosurgeon, that, yes, the baby is going to die eating that much.

So, he offered safer alternatives if baby wanted something sweet. Boiled potatoes, ripe avocados and fruits could help. (They'll have to frequent the nearest planets)

CD is like the most cynical ass ever to exist so Rewind find himself with an existential crises, staring off into a wall, when baby would scrunch up their face, the way CD does when he's displeased.

"That mask stays on."

"But I didn't even—"

"It stays on."

But he also finds, a little begrudingly, that CD is a lot more understandable these days. Mostly always cradling baby and humoring the little cretin . Arguments are close to nill. He barely has to raise his voice

Cybertronians naturally have harsh edges, given they're metal (duh), so their rooms would be congruent in terms of features as well. Not exactly a pleasant thought when an organic is dawdling about.

So to be safe, in their habsuite, Chromedome installed padded cushions everywhere. Even the ceiling is padded, mecha's kibbles are also padded (much to Rodimus's chagrin)

And, every inch and crevice of that room is filled with scribbles. (Scribbles only Swerve can decipher, but he's busy lounging in the brig so there's that.)

Red Alert, during a habsuite check, once blacked out inside the room because he didn't recognize the new change. It was so pastel-ish, bright and soft, he justs goes away

Chromedome finds the poor mech on the ground, baby on top with their crayons, assaulting said mecha's face while squealing at the teal green against stark red paint

"A new paint job, huh."

"Chromedome, get the poor guy up for Primus's sake!"

Baby is limited to the Library and Med-bay (as per Rewind's request). Library because Megatron is there and they know for a fact he's more trustworthy with the baby than anyone. And, Med-bay because, well, medics

But obviously, baby is like, a little cretin who thinks rules are a no-go and said social construct a danger to society. And, by who's declaration? Rodimus. It's Rodimus.

Rewind is going to murder that speedster of a captain

So , it's a given mech's will see CD scampering across the halls upon spotting baby dangling off a goddamn beam. Or, hanging off someone's shoulder, (said bot doesn't know, because baby is so small, the sensors didn't pick up), then sees the mnemosurgeon slumping onto the ground in relief, passed out for a minute

What's baby doing there?!

Rip CD's spark rate.

And, since they've got to play the part of a happy family, Rewind has to sleep in the same berth as his conjux. Not that they didn't ever

After the reveal (CD going behind his back doing unethical things w/ his fingers) Rewind was obviously displeased so they sported separate berths. Now? They'll manage squeezing in the same bed.

Rewind tried to act all huffy about it, glancing to one side, as though he doesn't want to be there. He does. He's just sulking.

Chromedome silently stares at the ceiling. Baby is between them, chewing on a miniature Rung figure (that Rung gave because, somehow, it calms the little thing)

Baby notices the silence and wants attention, so they bap their hands on the surface when both mechs weren't listening. And does it again for the fifth time. CD sighs and decides to humor baby, a little.

"It's past bed-time." He says quietly, patting their head

With a squeal, baby plays with CD's servo and curls it over their head. He scoops the little bundle up into his arms and loosened up a little.

Rewind swivels to find baby nuzzling his conjux, both deeply asleep. Something soft thrums in his spark, and while he’d rather bash his conjux’s a skull with a hammer, he can’t deny the lovely visage of him cuddling their child. So, he scoots over a little, resting his helm on CD's shoulder. He doesn't flinch when a servo lands on his shoulder plate, pulling him close.

Maybe, it wasn’t so bad.

[an0thergl1tch]

Drunk sides because seeing drunk Patton rep in the incorrect episodes was amazing :

Patton : as shown, very emotional drunk. I have a feeling he’d also be a very affectionate drunk, he will end up sitting in someone’s lap by the end of the night. If he goes to a bar he gets so many guys (and even some girls) numbers because he literally befriends everyone and Roman is jealous as hell. Definetly would accidentally propose to someone while blackout drunk. Also this dude is way too good at beer pong, he definitely played way too much in college (let’s be honest tons of people drink to cope with their emotions in college he probably did too.) Most of the time he’s the designated driver (and nurse.)

Roman : Oh he is sobbing on the bathroom floor. Tries to turn into a frat boy but ends up just embarrassing himself by absolutely failing at a keg stand. Probably has fallen out of a window, multiple times, sometimes on purpose. Keeps buying people expensive drinks, and forces himself to only bring cash because otherwise he ends up draining his credit cards. Makes tons of stupid bets. Always ends up with a bruise somewhere on his body by the end of the night (not that type ya nasty.) Try’s to flirt with guys the whole night, he is not successful. Will end up puking in the bathroom

Logan : while tipsy he is very quiet, however when he is drunk every ounce of restraint is gone. You thought he was blunt before, that is the tip of the iceberg. If you talk shit he will talk shit back. Has slapped people and thrown drinks before and will probably do it again. However he is quite go with the flow, and if he gets dragged away to dance or make out you won’t see any complaints from him. If you talk about one of his interests he will stick by you the rest of the night talking about it. Suprisingly good at bar tricks (chugging, shots, beer pong.) Weirdly almost seems sober most of the time.

Virgil : typically avoids being drunk, he’s afraid of accidentally hurting someone while not being in control, but overall he’s a surprisingly chill drunk. Who knew if your so drunk you can’t think straight that you probably won’t worry about anything. Mainly stays at the bar or in the corner as being in the dance floor makes him feel squished. Definitely talks about urban legends, true crime, and conspiracy theories. Very clingy, don’t leave him alone. Will immediately pass out when he gets home.

Remus : Ok this fucker is probably also on drugs. He parties HARD. Has gotten arrested before because he may of punched a security guard. Has jumped off a roof, will do it again. Probably will end up in the bathroom with some guy by the end of the night. He’s dancing on tables and smashing shit. He is going all over the place, if you don’t have your eye on him he will disappear and will probably be halfway down the block. If he catches someone being a creep it’s on sight. Janus forces him to wear safety shorts because Remus very frequently loses his pants. Can tell when people spike his drink, drinks it anyways.

Janus : Isn’t he always drunk lol. Very flirty and charming, prefers to stay by the bar area and check out all the cute guys in the crowd. Enjoys to talk shit and gossip however that’s not really a surprise. Very touchy, also probably in someone’s lap by the end of the night. Will punch a bitch. Probably will have his drink remade atleast once because it don’t taste right (he has standards.)

[funeralpartyclown]

Opinions on a bottom dale? How do think he'd feel if he saw his fem partner putting on a str4p on for him? If he saw his male partner was hung like a horse? If he was the "star" at a g4ng b4ng? We need more of kobble being a bottom, all that whimpering can't go to waste.

Going to gnaw my limbs off I need him so bad. Sorry this took me 8 million years to answer anon I kept opening it and then getting distracted and forgetting about it 💔

People who are disgusted I want Dale would have a heart attack and die if they saw any of the other characters I want. “Rock bottom” babygirl he is the tip of the iceberg

For some reason, everyone that writes about him has just unanimously agreed he’d be into butt stuff, and it’s hilarious to me. I have not seen a single person be like “maybe he’d be open to it” no, always just “yeah look at him that bitch takes it up the ass”

The sheer length of the whimpering comps people have made of him even though he had like 5 minutes of screen time because all of that was spent whining and mouth breathing.

There is NOTHING on earth more attractive though and I think (in any way but especially so if he was bottoming) he would be very vocal. And knowing you’re the reason he’s so overwhelmed all he can do is pathetically whine and squirm..

He already has a hard time breathing regularly he’d be gasping and panting so hard. He also seems to me like the type to be obnoxiously noisy in every way. And like I said in one of my other posts… he’s gross I bet he makes super weird faces and awkward loud noises.

I saw someone earlier say the end of fire fire fire hiss where he’s going “HAHH HAHH HAHH,,” (I love you you’re so right) is what he’d sound like cumming. Loud and annoying but it’s still hot because it’s him.

There is something so amusing about it. Just thought of him bottoming at all, huge man very capable of hurting you with like 50 murder victims. Much larger and or older than most of you. Begging with tears streaming down his face for permission to cum.

God I have probably wasted several hours of my life by now just talking about his dick both here and on ao3.

I haven’t written about it because this is all fictional and for fun and sillies. so why not make it a little unrealistic? But he’d probably have trouble getting it up / finishing. Maybe it would be easier for him with a little extra stimulation?

Treating him softly, rolling your hips into him from behind burying the strap fully. Hands on his hips, praising him and listening to him whine and cry every time you do.

And it would be SO fun to torment him. Overstim, edging.. seeing how far you can push him before he breaks? Watch him unravel more and more till he can’t even finish a full sentence and he’s just writhing and drooling with tears in his eyes.

[random-dragon-exe]

Alright, but can everyone just imagine the antics we could've got if there was more time for the Covenheads to interact?

Dana said they backstab each other all the time, which means they don't generally get along well.

Like we could've gotten some really entertaining antics between them.

I'd imagine it'd be like a twisted version of The Offfice, but with queer witches and one puritanical leader.

So now have a few ideas I've come up with.

-----

Belos: Can you all just conduct yourselves accordingly for one meeting?!

The covenheads in question:

Raine is trying to keep whatever is left of their sanity while trying to separate Adrian from Darius while they're fighting with each other. (They're fighting over who has better fashion sense)

Cue Eberwolf biting Adrian’s tail as he screams in pain from the bite.

Terra and Hettie are watching, amused.

Hettie has enough of it and summons one of her scalpels and throws it, nearly missing Adrian as a warning.

Vitimir throws a sleeping mist potion at Adrian (minecraft style) only for him to teleport away and it hits Darius instead, instantly knocking him out.

Mason and Raine hover over Darius, making sure he's okay and not hurt.

Osran's recording everything on his Penstagram only to save it for himself to watch later for shits and giggles. (Along with rest of the antics he's saved)

Belos: (internally face-palming) "We'll continue the meeting, someone just get Headwitch Deamonne and prop him up."

Wait I got some more ideas! This time a few without Belos.

(All the Covenheads are walking to the main room early for a meeting)

Hettie: (whispering to Vitimir) "Is it just me or is Adrian a little less annoying right now?"

Vitimir: "I bet you 20 snails it's an illusion of him."

Hettie: "I bet 20 it's not."

Vitimir: "Fine then, prove it."

(Cue Hettie throwing one of her scalpels at Adrian only for it to go through and the illusion of Adrian dissappears)

Hettie: "What no, Titan dangit!"

Vitimir: "Pay up Cutburn."

Hettie: (annoyed) "Fine." (Hands him the snails)

("Vitimir" poofs away only for Adrian to be revealed to have been masquerading as Vitimir via illusion)

Adrian: "Thanks, I wanted a few extra snails!"

Hettie: (seething mad) "You'll pay for that Graye!" (About to attack him)

Adrian (draws a spell circle to make multiple illusions of himself which all run off in different directions so it was impossible to tell who the real one was which confuses and further enrages Hettie)

(Vitimir finally speedwalks in the main hallway)

Vitimir:" Sorry, I was busy experimenting with my latest potion, what'd I miss?"

---

(Hettie stares daggers at Adrian throughout the meeting then when Belos isn't looking throws a scalpel at him)

"Adrian": "Ow!" (Poofs away to reveal Mason hidden under an Illusion of Adrian) "What was that for?"

Okay, last one:

(Vitimir gets bored so he starts testing out a new deadly potion on himself)

(Hettie notices)

Hettie: Do you mind sharing that?

Vitimir: "No I'm not sharing, besides what do you need it for?"

Hettie: "I have my reasons." (Sadisticly smiles)

Vitimir: (slightly creeped out and sighs) "Alright fine, meet me at my door after the meeting."

Some more ideas/HCs but they're in a general sense;

Osran uses the videos he recorded over time as blackmail for each Covenhead.

Vitimir stays up late mixing potions and tests them on himself.

Vitimir acts like a shady drug dealer when the Covenheads want a potion from him.

When Raine is fed up with Adrian, they'll play their music to make him fall asleep right then and there.

Terra threatens the Covenheads when she's in a bad mood that she'll feed them to her large carnivorous plants. (Everyone is terrified of it, but never admit it to her)

If anyone of the Covenheads gets hurt, they'll never go to Hettie to get healed (she has terrible bedside manner)

This is just the tip of the iceberg, hope you enjoy my ideas.

[theplottdump]

M: Speaking of Aliens- wanna hear a secret? Vera: Always. M: You know Agent Star? Vera: The super serious one that works at the capital? M: 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣. Vera: What? No way! Why do you even know that?

M: So you know how there's like stuff that's 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵- and then there's stuff that's 𝙩𝙤𝙥 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩, yeah? Like how UNIT is a secret but the tub of hummus Argent keeps in her desk is top secret?

Vera: 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵 - Argent keeps a tub of hummus in her desk?

M: 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘴- I helped her set up a refrigerant system in one of the drawers. She gets snacky.

Vera: So 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 what that humming is!! I seriously thought it was just the sound of my anxiety during one on ones!

M: Well above that there's what we 'labrats' call the '𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘇𝗲' secrets. Stuff reserved for only the most need to know higher ups.

Government Secrets so dangerous they get shoved all the way in the back in the server - left to be forgotten and covered up with digital frost til the end of time.

M: Every few months me and few of the lab guys over at Bridgeport HQ meet up online to race and see who can decrypt whatever deep state documents we manage to fish out of the freezer the fastest.

The prize is usually pizza.

Vera: And that's how you found out about Agent Star? M: Agent Star was just the tip of the iceberg. Turns she was transferred from this facility an hour outside of Oasis Springs. The place was running experiments on all kinds of occult kids. Vera: 𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩!? That's horrible.

M: It was 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬. After the last Director died, the state took one look at it and shut it all down. Relocated all the remaining staff to Strangerville and wiped all the records- cept for what we found in the freezer. Kinda like a post mortem. Cool right?

Vera: But what happened to all the kids?

M: I dunno. Place is still locked up tight from what I managed dig up. I low-key wanna drive out and see what else is left down there sometime.

Vera: And 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 is what you do for fun? M: Eh, yeah- I mean sometimes? Just because we work for the government doesn't mean I trust them.

What do you do for fun?

Vera: I 𝘶𝘩, it's stupid. M: Try me. V: Well, after my Dad tracked me down he gave me one of his old guitars. I think he felt a little bad about the whole 𝘶𝘩- abandoned at birth thing?

M: That's cool he found you. Vera: Yeah! 𝘶𝘩𝘮. He gave me a few lessons on it - said I'm a natural, but I think he was just being nice. So 𝘶𝘩- I've been writing! M: Music?

Vera: Yeah, ah, songs. With words and all that. They're mostly rubbish. M: I bet they're great. Vera: [ 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙩 ] You haven't heard them.

M: Well then- you should play them for me sometime! I've seen you do karaoke at the Office Holiday Parties. Vera: 𝘗𝘧𝘧𝘵, I was drunk!

Maya: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Harry and Meghan's Archewell Foundation is banned from raising or spending money after it is deemed DELINQUENT for failing to pay fees and submit records | Daily Mail Online

We always suspected that Archewell was dodgy as heck! And that the real purpose of the "charity" was to help fund H&M's lifestyle

A bunch of anons are asking me about the latest report to Archewell and what I think so…

As I wrote in my “What a February” post, the launch of the new Sussex website was a rebranding effort. I theorized then that Meghan was phasing Archewell out because it flopped as a brand and at the time, mid-February, Archewell had just failed its trademark application for the fifth and final time. So the writing was very much on the wall that Archewell is/was going away and that they were spinning up a new Sussex organization as its replacement.

Now I’m even more confident that Archewell may eventually be phased out because it’s even more public that there are serious problems behind Archewell, problems that affect its ability to function as a nonprofit charity. It’s only a matter of time. I expect this is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to their financial and asset management; remember, Meghan filed for bankruptcy once (before Harry) and that is something that sticks around for a good long while. Declaring bankruptcy isn’t always bad thing and there are people who do turn their lives around and get their finances back on track, but when you have a history of financial mismanagement and now things like this are happening? You’re delinquent on payments and reports, there are allegations of fraud and mismanagement, and your leadership at a previous charity was investigated by another country’s oversight board?

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Or, I guess, in the Sussexes’s case: A shiny new website marks the spot to dig.

The bottom line is that Archewell has problems, the watchdogs are watching, it’s getting tough out there, and the Sussexes are squirming. You can tell by their statement, which is classic Sussex deflection: it’s the AG’s fault their check wasn’t processed in time.

Which is actually pretty revelatory on its own. That they couldn’t (or didn’t) send the check until just before the deadline suggests they don’t have liquid assets in Archewell or an expense account for basic operating expenses and they were scrambling to find the $200 to put in the account so the check didn’t bounce. So despite having $2 million in charitable donations received (or whatever the number is), none of that money is liquid or earmarked for basic operations - it’s all tied up elsewhere and that’s just not good. It leads to questions, and scrutiny, like “where is the money really going?” or “who’s paying for the staff if you can’t pay your annual registration fee?”

I bet if the right person dug into that, they’d uncover quite a few skeletons that the Sussexes want to stay buried so they can win (a one-sided) War of the Waleses against William and Kate.

[ikamigami]

I've always personally interpreted Sun as the kind of person who blames themselves for everything, like yes July 16th was one of if not the worst day of his life and the cause of a lot of trauma, but it definitely wasn't the only day, and to me he comes off as the kind of person who would blame themselves for other's terrible actions, I bet that every time he woke up after Moon had his turn and he found another mangled body, his own covered in blood, he blamed himself, for not being able to talk Moon out of killing, of not being strong enough to fight back against Moon to prevent this from happening, it probably didn't help that parents and technicians probably blamed him too, either because they didn't know Moon was a separate person or blamed Sun for not being strong enough to hold Moon back, I seriously wonder if he feels at least partially responsible for every innocent person Moon and later Bloodmoon has ever killed, those barrels of body parts in that one basement, if he believes he wasn't persuasive enough to talk them down or strong enough to stop them, even though it should've never been Sun's responsibility to keep Moon and Bloodmoon sane, and maybe he also blames himself for his own suffering, that if he had done something different, Moon wouldn't hit him, or call him stupid, or push him away and keep him in the dark, and when Eclipse took control, maybe he blamed himself every time Eclipse suppressed him long enough to do serious damage, or that somehow Eclipse showing up was a reflection of his own "evil", and then him not being powerless when Lunar showed up and was hurting Moon, and that's just the start, Moon getting killed and Sun failing to fix it, Nexus's fall and not feeling like he was enough to stop Nexus from turning, and so many other things, how could you not feel powerless, like your efforts mean nothing, that you aren't enough to save anyone, with all this? And its not because he's self-absorbed or something dumb like that, but because he genuinely believe his failures got people killed, and when you have a life like this surrounded by so much death, where your efforts feel meaningless because people die anyway, you might believe it really is your fault even if you didn't hurt anybody, and on top of that the constant insults and gaslighting, Moon and Eclipse blamed Sun for July 16th, demonized him for having angry thoughts even though everyone has angry thoughts, we saw this with the interview where Moon believed Eclipse's words saying Sun killed the agent even though we all heard Eclipse take control in that moment, Eclipse especially preyed on the idea that Sun is secretly a bad person to toy with him, that's part of why Sun has such issues processing his anger now, so I agree, I think he blames himself for it all, and it's such an ingrained part of him because this state of constant peril and powerlessness has been there ever since he was born, and July 16th, while awful, was just the tip of this ever-growing iceberg

Thank you so much, dear anon 💗🫂

This is how I always interpreted Sun as well.. because I was experiencing the same guilt delusions.. though mine aren't caused by trauma I immediately recognized that we're so much alike because of the way he acts and behaves..

I'm glad that some people understand that.. that some people understand the excessive guilt Sun definitely has to feel..

I can't thank enough Davis and EC for creating Sun's character because Sun helped me realize that I'm suffering from mental disorder and not that I'm just exaggerating and imagining things and use mental issues as personality traits..

I wish that I knew what was going through Davis' mind when he created Sun's personality for sams.. maybe if I knew that he actually made Sun to have guilt delusions and depressive psychosis and it wasn't just a simple coincidence then I'd feel a bit better..

Because I sufffered a lot because of certain individuals in this fandom.. both here and on Discord server.. just because I was saying that Sun is suicidal because I was worried because of my own mental struggles..

Because why they had to say that "I'm disturbing" and that I apparently "was dragging everyone to this" when it's not true and they had the audacity to say that under the post that someone made in my defense where they said that I was passively suicidal..

And they never felt the need to apologize for that..

I also didn't like when New Moon descended into "insanity" at first because the very same people were suddenly caring about New Moon experiencing similar issues to Sun (though their experiences are different but you get what I mean)..

Tl;Dr: I absolutely agree with you and I'm glad to see that some people understand the excessive guilt that Sun has ^^