#this wasn't prompted by anything recent btw

[vanmarkus]

a lesson in protecting your peace ✌️

[milksnake-tea]

━━ welcome, rover .

Waking up in a foreign world with no memories and hostile natives isn't what it's made out to be, especially when you have a sassy voice telling you to jump off a cliff.

self aware!wuthering waves au (kinda.)

contains: male!rover, elements of sagau, ooc!chixia, canon divergence, based off of beta wuwa

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i wrote this on the plane while having motion sickness so uh sorry if it's bad but i had a vision... this is based on the old version of wuwa btw !! where everyone was kinda hostile towards rover so that's why chixias more antagonistic bc i heard she was kinda mean in the og... rover might be ooc too bc honestly my experience w wuwa is... limited due to the lagging but i hope i did him decently enough !! if he doesn't have sass that's uhm. that's my bad. anyways self aware beams your wuwa

When Rover awoke on that new world, the first thing he'd seen was a heated glare.

Alright, maybe “glare” wasn't the right word. It was moreso wariness, or distrust. Narrowed eyes, hostile and defensive body language, and hands hovering above where he assumed was their weapons holster - it was obvious that to the locals, he was an unwelcomed guest.

He'd barely regained enough consciousness to comprehend the language - their words were twisted, alien, yet he could somehow still understand them - before he was barraged with an onslaught of interrogations: Who was he? Why was he here? What were his intentions? Why was he alone?

And of course, when faced with all of these questions, his recently wiped mind went blank - that tends to happen when you have amnesia. Unfortunately for him, that answer wasn't exactly satisfactory. It was painfully obvious from their expressions that no one believed him when he explained that he didn't remember anything, not even his own name.

The redhead was the most aggressive - Rover was sure she would've already started getting physical had her companion, a darker-haired woman dressed in blue, not kept her in line. While the others weren't exactly kind to him, they still remained civil… or at least, as civil as they were willing to be.

In the end, the third woman, this one with sharp eyes and presumably the medic of the group, managed to convince the other two that Rover was telling the truth after a brief examination. It was then, and only then that the interrogations stopped, and Rover could finally have some time to himself as the three women discussed what to do with him.

As the details of their conversation faded into the background (he heard a lot of fancy terms that he wasn't familiar with), Rover decided to take a look around.

He'd landed in the middle of a forest, which didn't strike him quite right - out of everything, the one thing he clearly remembered was being underwater. But as he surveyed his surroundings, only looming cliffs, thin trees and swaying grass greeted him.

He winced, his head throbbing suddenly. A stabbing sensation struck through his head like a bullet, and then there was warmth, spreading through his body like sunlight.

“..ey. Hey!”

Rover blinked. The redhead planted her hands on her hips, irritation evident from her scowl.

“We’ve decided what to do with you,” the woman in blue said softly, holding an arm in front of the redhead to calm her.

Rover tilted his head innocently, prompting her to continue.

“We'll take you to the city,” explained the medic. Her voice was just as frigid as her gaze. “There, the officials will examine and determine whether or not you're a threat.”

“I’m-” Rover started, but caught himself. “Okay.”

The medic nodded, then bent down on her knees. Noticing her outstretched hand, Rover realized she was offering to help him up.

He stumbled as she pulled him to his feet. His legs felt like jelly, pins and needles pricking at him as they slowly woke up. For a second, he'd thought he'd fall over.

But then the warmth came again, and this time, with a voice.

“Steady. Easy does it.”

Sudden strength surged into his legs, and he stabilized himself, the pins and needles fading away.

“There you go.”

He looked up as if expecting someone to be there, but predictably, all that met him was a vast blue sky.

“Are you looking for me?” He heard the voice laugh, a clear, bell-like sound. “Maybe do that later, you're making yourself look funny.”

With a start, he realized that the voice was right. The three women were giving him weird looks, and his hand was still intertwined with the medic’s.

Hastily, he yanked his hand away, a sheepish chuckle escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck. The redhead scoffed.

“Yangyang, this guy’s got a screw loose or something…” she muttered to the woman dressed in blue. Yangyang sighed in agreement, turning on her heel and walking away.

“Bear with it for a bit, Chixia,” she replied. “We'll drop him off at the City Hall, and they'll take it from there.”

Chixia didn't look happy with that, but she relented nevertheless.

“Wow.”

Rover flinched as the voice spoke again, this time closer to his ear.

“They do not like you at all, do they?”

Obviously not, Rover thought incredulously, but can you blame them?

He'd noticed it a while ago - the three were clearly on edge. Something was going on on this planet, something bad. Having an unpredictable factor such as him probably wasn't helping.

“Good point.”

So you can hear my thoughts. Rover huffed as he pulled himself up a cliff, vines scratching at his arms. The route the locals had decided to take wasn't a kind one.

“Well, yeah. How else are we supposed to have our super-secret confidential shittalking sessions?”

Rover paused. What?

“Don't worry about it.”

No, what'd you say-

“I said don't worry about it. Now keep climbing, they're leaving you behind.”

Easy for you to say, Rover thought indignantly, but did as the voice said nevertheless. He quickly caught up to the group, the medic raising a brow as he fell into step beside her. Thankfully, she didn't say anything and only kept her gaze straight ahead.

“Hey, I'm not the one who's being marched to officials for an inspection. And I don't have a reputation I need to maintain.”

Rover hated to admit it, but the voice had a point.

What are you, anyway? He walked past a small pond filled with fish. His hands twitched with the urge to jump in and grab some, but his first impressions were already bad enough as is.

“I'm God, actually.”

Rover deadpanned, unimpressed.

“Jeez, tough crowd.” The voice shifted, moving from his right to his left ear. “But seriously though, I'm human, just like you.”

If you were, I'd be able to see you.

“Fair enough,” the voice mused. “But I really am human. I just… happened to wake up invisible and connected to you.”

Rover grunted as he vaulted over yet another cliff. Very convincing.

“Says you.” He could practically hear them rolling their eyes. “At least I remember what my name is.”

That one hurt more than Rover would've liked to admit.

“...Sorry.” Quieter now, almost meek. “That was out of line.”

Rover closed his eyes briefly, breathing in as subtly as he could before opening them again.

It's fine. You didn't say anything false.

“It was still insensitive.”

Rover sped up. It happens to the best of us.

The voice went quiet, leaving Rover to the slight howl of the wind and the sound of boots crunching against sand. But they hadn't left entirely, no - Rover could feel a presence to his left, subtle but impossible to ignore.

“So you don't remember your name, huh?” Chixia said suddenly.

“No,” Rover muttered.

“Guess that just means we'll have to give you one. Or I could just keep calling you ‘Weirdo’ in my head.”

Rover’s eye twitched. “Let's not.”

Chixia grinned back at him, but the smile didn't ease his nerves at all - on the contrary, it made them worse.

“Why not? I think it's pretty fitting.”

“Chixia,” Yangyang warned, which Rover was grateful for. Had he retaliated, things wouldn't have ended well for him.

Chixia shrugged, crossing her arms behind her head as she sauntered off.

“I must apologize for her.” Yangyang turned to him. To his surprise, she seemed genuine. “Chixia usually isn't that rude, it's just that, well…”

She trailed off, uncertain on how to continue. Rover shook his head.

“It's fine,” he assured. “I can tell that you're all anxious.”

Yangyang’s shoulders slumped. “Is it that obvious? But… yes, you're right. Life hasn't exactly been calm as of late, with Tacet Fields appearing left and right.”

“Tacet Fields?” Rover repeated, tilting his head.

“It's easier to demonstrate than to explain,” the medic cut in, stepping forward as the cliffs and trees opened up. Rover followed her gaze to a darkened field, corrupted by dark matter and with a star-shapped scar at the center.

Abyss-like creatures prowled the corrupted zone, covered in dark armor, scales, and/or fur. They spoke to one another in gargled gibberish with voices that sent chills down Rover's spine.

“Those are Tacet Discords,” Yangyang explained. “They’re born from the distorted frequencies that result from the Tacet Field.”

“Ew.”

Welcome back, Rover greeted, to which the voice didn't respond.

“They're ugly,” they commented instead, scrutinizing the Tacet Discords one by one. Rover silently agreed. “But there's a few pretty ones I can see, like that wolf.”

Rover stared at said wolf's sharp canines and ravenous glare. Pretty… isn't what I would call them, but suit yourself.

“There’s a whole swarm of them out there,” Chixia observed, breaking through their conversation. She stretched her arms as if preparing for battle. “Can't get to the city without getting through them first.”

“Hm…” Yangyang contemplated to herself, before looking up at Rover. “Say, uhm…”

She hesitated, not knowing what to call him.

“Rover.”

His mouth moved on its own as his voice mixed with the voice's. Yangyang blinked, startled.

“I… I thought you didn't remember your name.”

“I don't,” Rover spoke without meaning to, like a puppet on strings. “It just… came to mind.”

Yangyang didn't look convinced, but she let it go.

“Alright, then, Rover, do you know how to fight?”

The feeling of being puppeteered left him as the voice became separate once more.

“Yes,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

What the hell was that?

Yangyang smiled. “Good, because we'll need to clear that Tacet Field before reaching the city.”

He nodded, understanding the implications. “I'll do my best to fight alongside you.”

“I don't know what that was,” the voice replied, and sure enough, they too sounded unsure. “I just did what the system told me to.”

The system? Rover questioned, but received no answer.

Rover heard a pistol click behind him as Chixia readied herself. “Don't try anything funny,.”

“I won't.” Operating on instinct, Rover drew a blade of his own. Chixia chuckled.

“We'll see about that.”

One by one, the group jumped off the cliff, deploying a glider so as to land safely below. Rover was the last to go. As his feet skidded at the edge of the cliff, sending pebbles flying down, unease swirled in his gut.

“Hey,” the voice said gently. “Don't worry. I'll help you out.”

What… Rover furrowed his brows, frustrated at how little he knew. What are you?

“Like I said, I'm just another person who ended up stranded here. I have a feeling we're going to be stuck together for a while, so I suggest you get used to me.”

Then, Rover sighed, at least give me a name. You said you remembered yours.

The voice paused.

“[Name],” it finally said, the name foreign to Rover's ears. “That's my name.”

“[Name],” he murmured, feeling it roll off his tongue. “We should get going, the others are waiting. You said you'd help me, right?”

“Yep. Just jump off the cliff and extend your left hand up to glide.”

Rover paused. Aren't these called intrusive thoughts?

“Just do it.”

Taking a deep breath, Rover looked down at the jump before him nervously. Closing his eyes and mentally praying to whatever god was listening that he wouldn't end up a black puddle on the forest floor, he lept.

Mechanical wings unfolded above him in a series of clicks and whirrs, a handle extending down for him to grab onto like his life depended on it. Peeking open his eyes, he let out a sigh of relief, feeling a small breeze brush against his face.

“See?” Although not obvious, relief bled into [Name]’s words as Rover landed safely on his feet. “You can trust me.”

A small smile slipped onto Rover's face, the first since he'd woken up.

��I guess I can.”

The glider folded in on itself, replaced by his blade as he joined the others.

“Took you long enough,” Chixia commented, but for the first time, it wasn't with ill intent.

“Sorry,” Rover replied. “But I'm here now.”

“Enough chitchat,” Yangyang called up ahead. “They've noticed us.”

Sure enough, the Tacet Discords were turning towards them, snarls twisting where he assumed their mouths were. The corruption worsened, dark energy forming in black smoke.

“Let's see what you're made of, Rover,” said Chixia, expertly spinning her pistols. Yangyang had already drawn her sword, and Baizhi, the medic, had summoned a pearly dragon-like creature to fight alongside her. [Name] didn't say anything, but he could feel their energy beginning to seep into his muscles, ready to aid him in battle.

Rover pointed his blade towards the Tacet Discords.

“Let's go.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

tags: @sh0jun, @themoderatelyawesomeninja, @xphantasmagoriax, @rainswept, @lucensei

@akutasoda , @naraven , @scribs-dibs

[palenutbasement]

(all scenes are depicted as platonic)

So every Inktober I try to do something more challenging, and this year I thought I would make a short comic/fanfic. I think I got the idea for this one a year ago but I was already wrapped up with another Inktober. Eventually I solidified the idea by making my own prompt list some time ago.

This comic is split into three parts with 10 days focusing on each of them, 30 in total, everything is compiled here. I wanted to post them after October in case I wanted to change anything.

This first part takes place in the summit.

The comic is basically all improvised, that means no planning for the composition, plot, or sketching any drawings. The most planning I did was write a few scripts ahead of time within the month to save me some time but most of them would be changed last minute anyways.

As for the plot, I won't go too deep into it because I don't want to talk too much, so you'll just find commentary on the making of the comic and stuff.

This first part is a little gimmick-y compared to the next two, with new elements appearing almost every day. It’s because I relied a lot on the prompts (dog, milk, etc.) to keep things happening, eventually I move further away from them.

What is surprising to me is how much the art changes as the days go by especially within the span of one month. I did refine a few things to keep it more consistent but this is nearly indistinguishable from the original drawings.

I should also mention that my favourite aspect of this project was adding references to the game and subtle details (if you can find it all, awesome!!) This may have been done quickly but I like to have those things and put at least a bit of effort into the dialogue.

Part 2

Eventually I figured that drawing the same setting for 30 days straight would drive me insane, hence why this comic is split like it is. I’m glad I did because it makes the story a little more interesting, seeing the characters have different attitudes in different places and whatnot.

This one takes place in the cave directly after pt 1. Admittedly I do better drawing outdoor settings, it's what I'm used to, but the cave wasn't so bad to figure out.

I remember these two days I was streaming drawing the comic to my friends, so I kinda zoned out while we were talking lol

One of the prompts was about napping, so I made Dwarf sleep. I believe I was tired that day too and it was therapeutic to draw and include that. Also they look cute, I think.

18 & 19 have some of my favourite drawings in the comic. The campfire lighting is what we'd get if I had a bit more energy each day, and I like the perspective in the first panel of 19.

I find this last section interesting, because of all the 30 days, it’s the only one in Dwarf’s POV. I felt like it was fitting to do something like that at the time.

Part 3

Since we were approaching Halloween, I wanted to have a special part for it. It’s related to the other two parts but it takes place some time after. I’m really sorry it’s out of season, if it were up to me I would have had this post out earlier (thank my midterms for the delay)

Out of all the other parts this one is my favourite. Maybe because it’s more recent I’m inclined to think that way but it has some of my fave moments that I've written here.

Other than that I don't have much commentary for this part. More thoughts at the end!

I was caught up everyday atp, but I didn’t have much spare time to prepare for the ending (I wrote it the morning of that day). I think this is a decent conclusion though.

I intend on coming back to this story, maybe next year to make a continuation but we'll see what happens. There are definitely things that I want to come back to someday.

Thank you for making it this far btw. It's been an eventful month for me beyond this (Untitled) comic, but there wasn't a single aspect of this that I didn't enjoy doing. It's a silly project and I care about it.

Also, I'm not going to neglect the 31st of October! That day will get an illustration, where I will pick my favourite panel and redraw it. I want to take my time with this one so it's not out yet, but hopefully I can finish by Christmas.

[givemea-dam-break]

hi honey! can you do a anthony lockwood x reader, with #49 from the prompt list? maybe reader is close friends with kipps and anthony gets jealous so he hangs out with another girl to make reader jealous, and it works, so kipps threatens lockwood?

i love your work btw 🫶

a/n: of course!! thank you for requesting, and i’m so glad you like my stuff, thank you for your support <3 I'm assuming you mean my angst prompt list as that's the only one with a prompt that makes sense lol. i hope you enjoy! also (for anyone) let me know if you want to be added to my tag list for any lockwood and co fics <3

warnings: mild language, angst prompt: "Are they really just a friend?" gn reader

tag list -> @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

Lockwood has been avoiding you, and you're not sure why.

It started a few weeks ago.

Usually, the two of you would spend mornings together in the kitchen, talking over steaming cups of tea as you waited for Lucy and George to get up. Your afternoons could go any which way - relaxing in the house, taking consultations with possible clients, running around London for god knows what. Evenings, well, they were your favourite. If you weren't on a case, either with the whole team or just paired with Lockwood, you'd sit in the library together, simply enjoying the other's company as you read one of the many novels in the house and he sifted through magazine after magazine.

Now, though, it's all changed. Lockwood is never in the kitchen when you're there on your own. He doesn't sit next to you during consultations, or invite you on his errands around the city. Worse, he isn't taking you along on cases with him, opting to take Lucy or George instead.

It shouldn't upset you the way it does, but it's not like you can help it. He's your closest friend. Your partner in crime. Without him, what are you?

Lucy has her theories but you're not overly convinced.

One of her theories sits in front of you currently, sipping a mug of coffee under the bright lights of the Costa you chose to hang out in today.

"Any interesting cases lately?" Kipps asks. "I can't imagine Tony would like to take any of the boring ones, but I suppose he'll have to take anything he can get, really."

You glare at him half-heartedly. "We take anything we can get, but that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. We help out the people who can't afford your fancy services. And, yes, I'll have you know we did have a particularly strange one, recently."

One of his eyebrows quirks up. It looks like a bushy caterpillar. "Go on."

"This murdered woman, right, who had been wanting revenge for her death. Turns out, the house was being occupied by some descendant of her murderer. He got ghost-touched, ended up dying, and then his husband came to get our help. You'll never guess what her source was."

Kipps thinks for a moment. "Her favourite necklace, stuffed under the floorboards somewhere."

You cross your arms in an X shape and make a 'wrong answer' buzzer sound. "It was her old record player that had gotten passed on from owner to owner. Apparently, the record on it had been on it for so long that it had melted onto it. The song had been playing while she died."

"That's awfully grim." Kipss takes another sip of his coffee, but he frowns as if it no longer tastes as nice. "And any improvement with Tony? Any conversations longer than five words?"

"No," you say miserably. You stir your spoon around in your tea, hating the way one guy has made your mood go from relatively okay to the opposite. "I don't know what I've done. I invited him to come to Arif's with me the other day, yeah? You know what he said? Lucy would love to go. And that was it! Lucy wasn't even home. The prick."

His gaze flickers to the door of the café. "You might want to keep your voice down."

"Why?"

When you turn, you realise why. In comes Lockwood, hair damp from the rain that pours down outside and jacket dripping, but still as radiant as ever. His face is almost glowing from the brightness of his smile as he laughs at something the girl beside him says.

Something in your chest squeezes horribly at the sight.

You turn back to look at Kipps, plastering on a smile as you swallow the burning feeling in your throat.

"He's coming over," he says, sipping his coffee - not - casually. He seemingly can't decide whether he should look at you or the person approaching. "Act normal."

As you sip your tea, which has gone a little cold after being left untouched during your conversation, Lockwood's shadow covers the table.

"(name)," he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "What a surprise to see you here."

You press your lips together. "Yes, well, I told you I was coming here today. What a coincidence."

When you look up at him, he's wearing that dazzling smile of his, and your breath catches. How long has been giving this other girl - the one who floats by his side - that very same smile? Has he smiled at her in that private way of his, where the corners of his lips twitch a little? Has he told her why he's got a scar on his forehead, and the stupid story of how he got it?

"Tony," Kipps says, giving him a curt nod. "(name) and I just met up to catch up on things. It's been a little bit since we last saw each other."

It's almost unnoticeable, but a muscle twitches in his jaw. "Two weeks, if I'm right? That time when our cases were next door to each other." he pauses then, glancing at the girl beside him "Oh, sorry, how rude of me. (name), Kipps, this is my friend Talia. Talia, this is Kipps, supervisor for one of the Fittes teams, and this is (name), my employee."

Your teeth grind together. "Just an employee? Hmm, okay."

"Nice to meet you," Talia says, smiling.

She seems nice, and you want to like her, you really do, but you can't. Still, for her sake, you repeat the phrase politely.

"Well, we best go get a table," Lockwood says, "before they all fill up from the lunch rush. Let's go, Talia. See you soon, (name)."

Despite wanting to swear at him, you give him the best smile you can muster. When he's gone, you visibly deflate, glaring at your croissant.

"Don't look at the pastry that way," Kipps says. "It hasn't done anything to warrant that."

"Oh, shut up."

--

Back at 35 Portland Row, the house is quiet. As far as you know, George is at the Archives researching for the next case you have coming up in a day or two, and Lucy is out getting supplies from Satchel's along with general shopping. You half wish you had gone with her rather than going to see Kipps.

During the rest of your time alone, you get some cleaning done. You've been putting it off for a while, but the washing-up basket is so full of dirty clothes that there is a mound as tall as your hips beside it. At this point, it's unavoidable.

You're halfway through folding the first load of washing when the front door opens.

"Be careful!" you call from the bottom of the basement stairs, hoping whoever it is will hear you. "I mopped the floor, it's slippy!"

For a few minutes, no one comes down to see what you're up to but, finally, you hear footsteps on the stairs.

"I boiled the kettle not long ago, it should still be warm if you want a cup of tea."

"Thank you, but I just had some."

You freeze for a moment before continuing your folding. Without turning around, you ask, "How was your date with Talia? She seems nice."

Lockwood pulls his chair out from under his desk. The sound is screechy, to say the least. "It was good. She's an agent at Rotwell, you know?"

"Mm."

"How was yours with Kipps?"

The disgust in his voice is palpable, but it doesn't even begin to compare to yours.

"It wasn't a date. Kipps is just my friend."

You can feel the look he's giving you - the disbelief is thick in the air. "Is he really just a friend?"

"Well, Kipps is six years older than me and an adult so, yes, he is just a friend because it would be illegal otherwise." The shirt you're folding probably doesn't deserve the amount of aggression you're handling it with. "It also wasn't a date for the reason that Kipps is my cousin. Now that I think about it, that's illegal, too."

Silence. It makes you feel a little triumphant, to be honest. It isn't often Lockwood is stunned into silence. He's always got something to say.

"Kipps... is your cousin?"

"Yes, he is. My mum is his aunt. Do I need to explain how that works for you?"

"No. No, that's alright. I just didn't know."

You shrug. "Never asked. Not like we were always super close. We've only really started catching up since I joined you guys because I'm in London now and he's my only family here. Not that that sentiment seems to be appreciated."

"If I'd known, I would've -"

"You would've done what, Lockwood?"

Finally, you turn to look at him, practically throwing down the jumper you're folding. He's already watching you, that smile of his nowhere to be seen. If you didn't know any better, you'd think that's guilt in his eyes.

"Would you have stopped avoiding me? Because Lucy seems to think that started when I reconnected with Kipps. I don't - Even if he wasn't my cousin, it makes me ill thinking that you might've thought we had a thing. Ugh, I can't even say it without wanting to be sick. Is that what all of this avoiding-me business was about? Be honest."

His lack of an answer is enough. Usually so full of things to say, it's a shock seeing him this quiet. You wait for him to say something, anything, but nothing ever comes. He just sits there, staring, supposedly figuring out what he should say.

You turn away from him again, folding the last item of clothing. "Your pile is that one on the end. Second load of washing will be done in an hour. I'm going out."

"Going out? Where?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business. I am just an employee after all."

"I didn't mean it like that -"

"Well, that's how it sounded. Jealousy doesn't suit you, you know." You pluck a jumper from your pile, tugging it on. "I'll be back before dinner. George is in charge of food tonight."

"(name), you don't need to go out. Let me just explain a few things."

"I have a great idea! Why don't you explain those things to Talia? I'm sure she'd love to hear it."

--

"I think I was a bit harsh."

"Oh, I don't think you were harsh enough."

Snorting, you stare out at the park. The bench you're sitting on right now, accompanied once more by Kipps, is soaked from the rain, but your jacket is long enough to save your jeans from getting soaked. The rest of the park isn't in much better of a state; there are massive puddles lining the paths, and the trees are sagging from the weight of the rain.

You pull your hood further over your head. "Tell me why you wanted to sit out in a park while it's chucking it down? I would've much rather had to sit in the same room as Ned Shaw than be out in this. My hands are freezing."

"You're the bait."

"The bait? What for?"

"Ah, there he is. My plan worked perfectly."

"Kipps, what are you -?" Turning your gaze down the path to the right, you realise. "No, Kipps, you're not going to bother Lockwood. I can handle myself."

"He needs to get a grip. He acted like a ten-year-old by avoiding you instead of talking to you, and it upset you. This just gives me the perfect excuse I've needed to give him a bollocking."

As he stands, you make to grab his sleeve. "Kipps, no."

But he's already sauntering up to Lockwood. The two meet halfway, drenched in rain. Lockwood's cheeks are flushed from the chill, and, though Kipps is the one speaking to him, he's looking at you.

"Kipps, stop it," you grumble, hurrying over. "I don't need you to mother me. It'll make things worse."

"I for one would like to hear what he has to say," Lockwood says. The challenging tone he always takes on with Kipps really should've been there, but it isn't. It's more of a guilty statement than anything else.

"You're acting like a kid, Tony," Kipps says angrily. "Do it with anyone else, but not with (name), not when they don't deserve it. I've been warning them not to fall for your tricks, but they've been insistent. He's a good guy. He's just going through a lot at the moment. Bullshit. Buck up your shit, or get out of their life."

"Kipps," you hiss. "Just shut up."

"No, I won't shut up, because he's hurting you. I won't stand for that."

"Just stop it! I'll handle this myself. I don't need you to do it for me."

"We all know that you weren't interested in that girl," Kipps says, glaring at Lockwood. If looks could kill, he'd be dead five times over. "You did it to be petty because, what, you were jealous that (name) was spending their time with someone other than you? Grow up."

"Kipps -"

"I'm going to leave now." His voice has grown quieter, even sterner, taking on the tone of someone using his age as leverage. "You two are going to talk this out. But if I find out that you've hurt them again, Tony, we're going to have major problems."

For a moment, he doesn't move, but then he squeezes your shoulder and leaves. You watch his figure disappear out of the park, blurred by the rain, before turning back to Lockwood.

His hair is plastered to his forehead and he's breathing a little heavier than usual. "(name) -"

"Kipps basically said everything that needed to be said," you say, pursing your lips. "I might've done it a little more gently."

A little laugh parts his lips. "He's right, you know."

"Oh, yeah, I absolutely do know. And it makes you a prick."

"It does." He looks down at his feet, guilt clouding his eyes. "I just - I was upset, and I know that gives me no right to have done what I did, but I felt - I don't know. Pushed aside? So I avoided you because it hurt a little less not having to see you all the time and wonder if you were thinking of someone else. Now I know how entirely wrong I was."

You stuff your hands into your pockets, desperate for warmth. "I was worried I'd done something to make you hate me. Lucy had tried to tell me that my hanging out with Kipps was a possibility, but I just didn't think it seemed like a logical reason. That's why I started spending more time with him - you avoiding me made me feel alone, and, yeah, I've got Lucy and George, too, but it felt nice to have someone shake some sense into me."

"I'm sorry, (name). Truly. If I'd known, things would've gone so much differently. I was more than a prick."

"You were." You laugh softly, and the sound has Lockwood's eyes back on you. "Lockwood, you mean the world to me. I thought you realised that."

There it is: that little mischievous glimmer in his eyes. The corners of his lips twitch. "Well, since I obviously didn't, maybe you could show me?"

"Are you sure you don't want Talia to show you? She did seem lovely after all."

He rolls his eyes, taking a step closer. He's near enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath. "Are you jealous?"

"Well, I wasn't the original jealous one, but, yes, I suppose I am."

When his hand touches your arm, you can feel its heat even through your jacket. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat. It's never gone so fast before.

"So, about showing me that I mean the world to you?"

"You are insufferable."

It doesn't stop you from pulling your hands from your pockets and pulling his lips to yours. He may be insufferable and frustrating, among other things, but you wouldn't have him any other way. So long as he's yours.

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

hello [walks in here holding four balls] two of it is for 🟡🟢 hope it makes things a little better (p.s I write what I need the most on balls while I'm having them) it took me a while to write back because(writing doesn't come easy these days). I went and watched all the videos Ron was reading lyrics (I'm glad it was recorded b&w, it's more soothing to watch), through those videos he made me realize I don't need to own singer energy/voice to read my fav lyrics or song( by that i don't mean he doesn't have good voice, personally I love his voice) as a person who never finds their voice good I always shy away to sing anything feeling I embrace myself so it helped me a lot to focus on what I like there rather ponder on what I hate. I owe this Ron Mael, he is cool and has sensei vibe (thank you sir)

can I go further and say one more thing I learned from him? it was his birthday recently so I let myself a go. we all know how Ron has this aloof face and unshifting glare(I never met Ron in person, so I take this is his face), first time I heard about sparks and searched first thing that got me was his face, I didn't say 'why he is so serious? why he isn't smiling' instead my reaction was 'so cool!' before it changes to deep sadness because once I owned a face like this. when I was younger people always would tell me cheer up, to not look serious or glare at them. I didn't know what they meant, I wasn't unhappy or angry it was just my face(I didn't know I have autism then, later realized how some autistic people struggling to show emotions) but eventually their words got me. I thought I have to change it or I'm wrong then without I know I was smiling because that's what I supposed to or mimicking others facial expressions to know how to react. I became good at it tbh, people liked me more but I felt a big lie inside, when pandemic happened I noticed even away from others I couldn't have 'my face', this shattered me. till I saw photos of Ron, and thought if he can live his life fully and be successful by being who he is and everything turn fine then why can't I? there is no wrong in him or me. (insert not that well defined here :) (if this got personal, or irrelevant I apologize. I tried to not mention yet I wanted to share how they helped me in certain way)

Russell workout videos are such mood booster, it makes me feel when I get to that age I can still live good life, I won't be as old as society tells me I will be, by sparks measure we never are too old for anything, are we? there will be still time to live, to do things I love and have more. it always amazes me how they doing what they love when they almost 80 and there is still a lot for them to go(as it should). this reminded me of 'beat the clock' actually. no one should get PhD by afternoon.

I low-key know about sparkstember but not enough, would love to know more about it. maybe I take part as well. where will they share prompt? on their official page? (loved the music video. nice work)

THE RON ESSAY IS HERE AND I AM SO HERE FOR IT!! You get it. 💖 Woo! Two balls! Thank you!

(This will get long. Very long. A million tangents. I saw this ask before going to sleep last night and so I laid awake smiling thinking about Sparks to 3am. (Don't worry, it's a common occurrence among Sparks fans.) Btw you may find the "secret password" among Sparks fans is sensing another person gets it. It's a shortcut to immediate adoption into the family because we know we understand each other, we're wired in similar ways.)

I am thoroughly impressed you already watched all of the lyric reads! Ron *is* cool and has sensei vibes and his voice is amazing! *nods to all of that*! I can't sing for shit myself and Ron is critical of his singing voice as well (maybe because his brother is the best singer in the universe) but yeah I love it on the rare occasion he does sing. I love it when he speaks, he delivers his words very well. (My favourite word for Ron to say is "sensibility".) Every once in a while someone tries to compile a list of all the tracks Ron has vocals on (and then it gets lost again haha). Some honourable mentions though: he's got some backing vocals on Pineapple (they may be hard to notice), he sings on the songs Limo Driver and En Route To The Beverly Hills Hotel (from The Seduction Of Ingmar Bergman, he's done more vocals on it but those I love the utmost), there's a version of Suburban Homeboy that features a spoken word section by Ron (they performed the song live that way in 2022), The Shopping Mall Of Love is mostly all Ron (which they also performed live in 2022 and 2023), there's a song called "What Was That?" from the unreleased soundtrack for Mai The Psychic Girl (in the late 80's and early 90's they worked really hard for this to become a film but despite all their efforts, it didn't happen). What I think you'll *really* like as well though is the promotional video for Strange Animal, which keeps disappearing from the internet. (I guess I'm going to have to put it on Tumblr because a lot of people these days may not have seen it???)

Look at me go "blablablablabla" haha. Well, you asked for it, and Sparks fans have zero chill 😂 Anyway I'm mentioning all of these because I love that he's making you think differently about your own voice, so that's some more stuff that may be really nice :)

...Btw, don't think Russell minds if we can't sing well, he just loves it when we do. He will affectionately roast us for not reaching the notes though (performance of Equator in 2014 you will always be famous) but the only really disappointing thing would be if we *didn't* sing along. Proof:

(Quick note: great song critiquing American imperialism, while also being a metaphor for Something Else.) I love how Ron at some point is trying to talk, but you know, Russell exists, so... Good luck with that 😂

If you want to see the roasting though, start around 5:55 in the next video (though the whole thing is tremendously beautiful):

Before that time Russell keeps waiting for the audience to start singing and they just... Don't seem to want to start?? And then once he's outright said it out loud, "sing it from here!", and we start singing he soon realises why we didn't start earlier, poor man is *so* disappointed - you can see it in his entire body language, just deflated. (It must suck at times to have a voice no one can match 😅💕) But we keep at it in full force, and he's smiling that big smile of his again! Continuing to tell us off for not singing it right though, which had everyone in stitches 😂 I was at this show and it was the best! (There's more videos of it out there where you may be able to see his face better, this show was performed only a handful of times but to experience the roast from different viewpoints you want Equator from the Barbican show in London from 19 December 2014.)

Okay back to Ron (see, I got so sidetracked 😂). Everything you've said about facial expressions and the effect Ron's face has on you is so relatable. Ron being who he is gave me permission to also go back to being myself again. I've always felt that I was forced to be a certain way, and it meant I was never good enough because I'm just... Not like that. I don't want to smile if I don't mean it and at the same time if I don't smile it doesn't mean I'm not happy. Also I love that he found what he liked and just... Stuck with it. Suit, tie, moustache. And Ron went, okay that's me sorted for my entire life. It's just who he is. And it's so inspiring. It's like seeing him exist made me relax for the first time in my life. (Going to my first Sparks show was the first time in my life I ever felt at home. I'm not going on this tangent but I feel it's important to point out I learned about Sparks before I knew I was autistic and that kind of saved my life.) Back to the face thing though. The pandemic actually helped me to get my own face back. Wearing a mask all the time meant I didn't have to do all the expected facial emotions, no one was going to see them! So in putting on a mask, I dropped the autistic masking. It was a real struggle for me with my face when people expected me to take the mask of again because suddenly my face "existed" again to the outside world. It's been a struggle but I chose to try to let my face just be and my life is so much better now because of that. (It turns out that apart from my family, no one actually comments or minds my face. It's fine:)) (It's not that I never smile, it's just that when I do smile it's because it just happens and I really just feel happy. When I'm among the people who I feel really at ease with and happy around, it turns out I'm actually a lot like Russell and I'm smiling all the time!)

I love that Ron has this set in stone image, and that at the same time he can be "unexpected" - his love for air Jordan shoes, sports, snow globes, rap music, his shuffle, ...I Predict. Just because he's the Boss Accountant (badass term coined by @/archeolatry that I love SO MUCH) doesn't mean he's defined in only one dimension. (I mean we know that, he writes most of the songs and all these albums and songs are different and there's so much humour in it all. Also, see Not That Well Defined.) It's just nice as hell and so freeing.

And indeed we never are too old for anything! Russell is like the real life Peter Pan, and he's also sunshine personified - having a bad day? Not anymore, Russell exists! But anyway, back to what you said about never being too old for anything. Society is so set on telling us we need to have it all figured out at a certain age. Or that our live is over at a certain age. And it's just such a lie! (It Doesn't Have To Be That Way :)) When I was younger I felt so shitty all the time, everything about me seemed wrong and I know I'd never be what society deemed successful. What helped me so much is the constant reminder that at my age, Sparks hadn't even made so many of my favourite albums yet! Nothing is bound to age. And I have every intention to be a late bloomer, continuing to bloom throughout life. I think I'm going to be really happy when I'm 55. (Though I'm not going to be as fit as Russell is haha, it's like he eats batteries for breakfast. (He doesn't. He may have a lot of energy but also he works really hard to keep it that way and to keep his voice in shape, they don't want to perform their songs in a different key. He wants to reach the notes, and he does! I think his voice only has gotten better and better with the years, which is really not the case for any other band that's been around as long as they have.))

... It's just all so beautiful, isn't it? :) They both inspire me so much.

Which brings us to: Sparkstember :)

Sparkstember was created by our very own fellow fan @/newwaveworm (new-wave-worm on Instagram). (I'm not tagging people directly in this post because I don't want to be invasive, but they're all really nice people :)) The first Sparkstember was in 2021, and in 2022 it seemed to have caught on on a bigger scale. Sparks shared the prompts list and shared so much of everyone's stuff! They were loving it. Same in 2023. (If you've seen what Instagram and tumblr looked like on Ron's birthday - that's a preview of how it gets on there during Sparkstember, but then it goes on for the full month!) Sparks have at some point sent newwaveworm a parcel with gifts and signed stuff to say thank you for coming up with Sparkstember, it's really sweet. They've even spoken about Sparkstember in an interview last year! You can read it here. (Both of the art pieces Russell and Ron mentioned in the article were made by @/nedison, who's day was obviously made when they saw this - it was so cool!)

I don't know the prompts list yet for this year as so far they usually get posted close to the last week of August, but here's the one for 2022 and the one for 2023 to give you an idea. I'm personally assuming it'll be similar this year (I don't really know that for sure though!) so I've started working on the early albums.

Sparkstember to me is just a really lovely time and people interact with each other a lot, I've shared almost all the pieces people made in 2023 and 2022 on my Instagram page (pineapplefulfillseveryneed) and put them in highlights so if you want, you can see what Sparkstember is like. (Don't worry, I can't see who looks at my Instagram story highlights, so your anonymous cover won't be blown :)) Honestly, to me Sparkstember is near the same level of exciting as a Sparks tour or the release of new material. The entire fandom comes together to tell Sparks how much we love them and it's just a joy to feel so connected to everyone, see so much cool art and make new friends. In a lot of ways it truly feels similar to when there's a tour and people travel from all over the world just to see Sparks. (Sometimes art made by fans ends up in the fanclub newsletter later on as well so that's another exciting thing! I've never made it in though, and it would be a huge honour if at some point I did. So if you do end up making stuff, there's always a small chance that that may happen :))

Don't feel pressured to create something for every day if you partake though, any and all participation is super cool and super appreciated! Picking the days you like best is what I'd recommend because it's supposed to be fun and not stressful :) I consistently truly have a lot more time than most people (because I've been unable to function in society in a normal way) and it's still incredibly challenging to the point it almost makes me ill at times. (I don't sleep well at all for the entire month, both because I'm so excited and because I'm very audhd which means I suck at planning and end up not having anything ready for the next day so then I still have to come up with something. It takes up literally all my time and my brain can't catch a break 😅) ... You've had a little taste of what Sparks fans are like though, so yeah we're just a little bit mad like that because we love them so much. (Sparks is a little bit mad as well though, in 2008 they played 21 concerts over 21 days, playing a different full album every day. I didn't get to witness that but it's one of my favourite things they've ever done, there's quite a bit of footage of it on YouTube and they're some of my favourite concerts! I always think about that during Sparkstember, because who but Sparks and who but Sparks fans would do something like that.)

[the-badger-mole]

There's A Difference

I think I've said this before- in fact, I'm almost certain I've said this within the last few months- but the reason I can't let Aang's actions be dismissed by his age is because his worst traits are never addressed in canon. The reason why I personally find him very incel-ish is because the grown men who created him and project onto him strike me as incel-ish (and yes, I'm aware that at least one of them is/has been married. Incel is more of a frame of mind than an actual state of being). Aang could have had a growth arc, but instead Bryke chose to either ignore his flaws or make them out to be virtues. I'm judging Aang as a character, not a child. Because Aang is not an actual child. An actual child might have been confronted on the things Aang did. Aang is a character whose creators want fans to think is perfect, even when they themselves introduce the idea he might not be (Aang's being a terrible father is not that surprising to me, but even then Bryke had to scramble to tell us he wasn't actually that bad 🙄)

I am a lot less harsh with Zuko because he actually faced the consequences of his poor decisions. He worked to make amends not only for himself, but for his family. I empathize with his losses and his personal tragedies because the narrative actually cared about how those things affected him in just about every episode, unlike Aang, whose devastating losses are only touched on when they're convenient to that episode's plot. Otherwise, he is the picture of unbothered to the point that I question if he even knew most of the time that he was in a war (the answer, it would turn out in the penultimate episode, was no, apparently not). There's not much I can criticize Zuko on that wasn't already touched on within the show. Why would I judge Book 3 Zuko based on Book 1 Zuko (who btw, I still think was a much better rounded character than Aang in any of the series)?

When it comes to Katara and the misogyny inherent in how she was treated in her canon ship? Well, I can only point to canon and aks to be proven wrong. Katara had very little to do with the development of Kataang during the series, and that little was usually prompted by someone or something outside of her own thoughts and feelings bringing the idea up. Meanwhile, we know from the beginning that Aang likes Katara (well, he likes how she looks anyway). His feelings matter to the narrative: Katara's not so much. Then the disastrous comics where Katara's character from the show is completely stripped from her and she ends up being the cheerleader girlfriend of the Avatar. I know some of that is walked back in the more recent comics, but we already know how it ends for Katara and her kids. Also, the post LoK scramble to give Katara more agency honestly just makes me think that my original assessment of her relationship with Aang was spot on.

Zutara, in my opinion, would have been a great relationship for them both. They would've been just about perfect together, because as hot tempered as they can both be, they also both get really good at communicating with each other, which is something that Katara never really has with Aang. That's why it doesn't surprise me to find out how dysfunctional their family is. Katara and Zuko know how to work together as a team. In a relatively short time, they got comfortable opening up to each other. They are both passionate to the point that they can be really hot-headed, but they are both also extremely empathetic and compassionate. They are a couple that would've helped each other grow, and would have been so much more interesting than anything that happened with their actual canon relationships.

I get that there are people who would rather believe that Aang could outgrow his selfishness. That's totally valid, and has made for some great stories. However, I don't think saying the way he was written in canon has shades of incel is wrong. Especially by Book 3. I could see that guy growing up to be a viciously obnoxious narcissist. I bet those of us who know an "Aang" IRL can picture that, too.

[prettyboybuckley]

putting their head on the other’s chest if it inspires ♥️✨

Love your writting very much btw♥️

hi anon! thank you for the prompt and the compliment 💕 this ended up getting away from me (and the prompt) a bit 😭

Eddie has always been a bit particular about his pillows, ever since he got back from Afghanistan.

He doesn't know if it's because he just wanted a decent pillow after his years in the army or if all the bed rest put his standards for a good pillow a little too high, but he's picky now.

Which is why he bought a whole stack of the same pillow when he finally found one he deemed perfect, all stuffed into the bottom of his wardrobe, just so he'll have enough pillows to last him decades.

Eddie keeps one in his locker at work, and it has gotten him some curious looks, but no one has said anything about it. They've all got their peculiarities, and the team is generally good at figuring out what they can and can't tease each other about.

So, yeah, Eddie has what you might call an emotional support pillow, and honestly, it might be the only thing he's let himself have just because he wants it.

Up until recently, at least. 

He wasn't even the one who made the first move, because there is a difference between going for something he wants and letting himself have something when it's offered.

Buck had offered, in a sense. Actually, Buck had kissed him in Eddie's kitchen, late at night, and Eddie decided that he was tired of not letting himself have the things he wants.

So they're together now, they go on dates and kiss and cuddle, and Eddie didn't remember that being in a relationship could feel this good. With Shannon, it started out as love but grew bitter long before they went their separate ways, even longer before she died. 

Eddie hasn't slept at the loft before, though. Not because he doesn't want to or Buck doesn't want him to, but because it's easier to go back to his place and there just hasn't been an opportunity yet. It wasn't planned they'd go back here today either, but they were already on the road and Buck's neighbor called that he needed the spare key Buck keeps for him, and that is how they ended up here.

Post-shift naps are a routine at this point, curling up under the covers together and sleeping for an hour or two. Eddie loves the quiet intimacy of it, and he doesn't think he ever sleeps as well as when he is with Buck. 

This time, though, it turns out to not be as easy. At first, he's curled up against Buck's back, an arm thrown over, but there is something off. When Buck eventually gets tired of his shifting, he manhandles Eddie until he's the little spoon, but that doesn't make it any better. 

"It's the pillows," Eddie sighs as he realizes why he just can't get comfortable, and he sits up.

Buck follows, arching an eyebrow at him. "Are you saying I have bad pillows?"

"No, I'm saying I just don't like them."

At this point, his boyfriend looks about as exasperated as sleepy, and he lies back down, pulling on Eddie's arm to take him with. He almost smashes his nose into Buck's muscled chest, but manages to avoid it narrowly. A strong arm wraps around his shoulders and he ends up half on top of Buck, head on his chest. 

Fingers find their way into his hair and usually that's more Buck's thing, having his hair played with, but Eddie finds that it's surprisingly relaxing. He's comfortable now, and for some reason his eyes start drooping fast. 

Seems like Eddie doesn't need his pillow after all. He's got a living one right here. 

from the "feeling another human's touch" prompt list

[safyresky]

If your Christmas prompts are still open, I wanna request #22. Holiday lights BUT! It has to involve Lucy in it. She is my girl :)

(25 Days of Christmas Prompts) (which yes, now that I got this one out I am STILL DOING! send them in if ur vibin!)

Lucy? LUCY? HELL YEAH. I stole ur blorbo too btws, I hope that's okay given the uh, joint custody. IT'S MY WEEK NOW (/jk). I just think he neat 🥺🥺. Also this is why this took so long. I was so nervous about the blorbo, then i went into OVERTHINK M O D E like 'oh god but now there's not enough LUCY?!?! It was an experience. But then I realized THREE THINGS: A) Jacqueline ships BlackIce SO HARD, B) so does Lucy in my head at least, and C) if there were any two people to bully Jack into letting someone help, it'd be Jacquie and Killian lmao. I HOPE I DID THE BLORBO JUSTICE. ENJOY!

Holiday Lights

"Are you sure you don't want me to call someone?" Lucy asked, frowning.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm positive! I've got it under control," Jack said, dangling from the eavestrough. "This is all part of the process!"

Lucy strongly disagreed.

It had been very nice for Jack to offer to help her put up lights at her new place. Really nice! It was just. He wasn't someone she'd have asked, personally. Her Dad would've helped! But he was very busy during the holiday season, which was totally fine. Lucy got it. Holidays made people come face to face with a lot of issues so, you know, therapy.

Uncle Scott would've been happy to help, too, but it was literally his busy season and she hadn't wanted to add more to his list.

Charlie was on a hiking trip with Danielle for the next two weeks, and even though he'd have been able to just snap his fingers and poof! Lucy's new place would be lit up (perks to being a Legate), the weather wasn't going to stay this mild forever (Jack had assured her that snow was coming). She was a HOMEOWNER now, and she was determined to make it look just as cozy for the holidays as everyone else did on her street, before everything got all icy and cold.

And unfortunately for her, Jack was determined to help. Mainly out of spite, since when he had offered Uncle Scott had scoffed and that had started a whole. THING.

Lucy huffed, an errant lock of hair floating up, then down. "I can see if any of the neighbours have a ladder!"

"I don't need a ladder," Jack insisted, swinging his legs back and forth. "I just need to get back on solid ground and it'll be fine."

"I don't think you should be swinging like that—"

A sharp, metal screech rang through the air. The section of gutter Jack was holding onto had bent forward mid-swing, pushing him farther away from the solid ground he needed.

"—because of that," Lucy said with a sigh.

"This is fine," Jack said, even though it was most decidedly not fine. He was even farther from the roof now, and the actual ground was. A little bit of a long way down. "This is exactly what I wanted to do."

"Yeah, no. I'm calling backup."

"Please, Luce. There's really no need! I just need to," he trailed off with a frown, looking down at the ground. "Ah. Right. No snow. Well, if I just..." he lifted a leg; the gutter groaned, sinking lower.

Lucy sighed, puling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts. "Unbelievable," she said, swiping right when she saw Jacqueline's contact on her recent list.

It rang twice before the younger, not-as-stubborn winter sprite picked up.

"Yellow!"

"Hi Jacquie!"

"Oh, hey Lucy! What's up?"

"You're brother's doing some dumb shit and refusing to let me help him not be dumb, can you—"

"Girl. You had me at dumb shit. I'll be right over! I'm just in line at Timmies."

"Timmies?"

"Yeah, you know. Timmy hoe's? Tim's? Tim Horton's? Canadian institution? I'm in Saskatchewan. Huge polar vortex on the go and I'm babysitting it. Want anything?"

"Oh! Tim Horton's! Can you get me that smoothie thing? The pink one?"

"Sure! Does Jack want anything?"

Lucy looked up at the Legend. She almost asked; almost. But then she remembered that his hands were otherwise occupied hanging off of her eavestrough, and decided that stubborn Legendary Figures who refused help to prove a point to a fellow Legend who wasn't even HERE didn't deserve mediocre treats from Canadian institutions.

"He's good," Lucy said. "See you soon?"

"Yep, see you soon, Luce. Hi there! could I please get—" the line clicked dead.

"You did NOT just call Jacqueline."

"I did!" Lucy shouted back up, chipper. "You're hanging off of the gutters on the second floor of my house, Jack! And you're being really persnickety about getting help, so who better to convince you than your younger sister? Younger sisters can be very convincing. I would know, I am one."

Jack groaned, throwing his head back. The eavestrough copied him.

A few errant snowflakes breezed by, Jacqueline turning the corner around the garage in her work clothes, slurping an icy, chocolatey looking drink, large aviators on her face. She stopped beside Lucy, passing her a pink smoothie and looking up at Jack with a snort.

"You didn't get me anything?" Jack shouted down.

"Lucy said you were good, and she had a point! Your hands look a little full right now," Jacqueline shouted back up with a shrug, Lucy laughing around her straw. "So anyway. What the fuck are you doing?" Jacqueline asked. "Lady above, I sure do love being in the human world," she added as an aside, Lucy laughing in response.

"My best! Which, need I remind you, Mom says is good enough!" Jack said, once more swinging himself back and forth.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Jacqueline asked.

"Well," Jack began, a bit gruffly. "There's no snow on the ground and my hands are a bit preoccupied right now. I can't quite hop down to the roof from here. If I keep doing this though, it should swing back enough for me to hop back onto the roof, and get that last corner."

"He sounds very sure of himself," Lucy said.

"That's the scary part," Jacqueline replied. She took another long, obnoxious, slurp. "I can just make a snow ramp for you! Or like, send you a wind!"

"I don't need help, Jacqueline!"

She slurped again. "Lady of the Springs, he is being stubborn."

"I know!" Lucy said, throwing her hands up, exasperated.

"How did he even end up. Well. Like THAT?"

Lucy sighed. "I don't have a ladder. He said he didn't need one and walked up the side of the house. He was trying to get that last corner, but we got rain overnight so it was all wet and yucky, so he froze it and—"

Jacqueline choked. "HE SLIPPED ON ICE?!?!?!?" She turned to the now very grumpy Jack, hanging away on the gutter. "YOU, JACK FUCKING FROST, SLIPPED ON ICE?! YOUR OWN ICE? THAT YOU MADE?!?!?!?"

"YOU ARE MY LEAST FAVOURITE SISTER," he shouted back, the eavestrough groaning.

"YOU KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT!"

"He needs help, Jacquie. And he's being so stubborn about it I called reinforcements. So what should we do?"

"He's being such a wooden spoon," Jacqueline scoffed in agreement. She slurped once more, sticking out a glowing hand. A steady stream of snow blasted forward, layering itself up and up and up, twisting and turning until it stopped just below Jack, glittering in the sun.

"JUST SLIDE DOWN IT!"

"I DON'T NEED OR WANT YOUR HELP, JACQUELINE," Jack shouted back. He kicked his foot forward. The ramp fractured. The fracture grew bigger, cracking all the way down, smaller cracks shooting out to the sides, fern like fractals spreading out from the little cracks. The main crack hit the bottom, and with a loud POOF, the snowy ramp dissipated into a rather large snow bank.

"What is WRONG WITH YOU?!" Jacqueline demanded.

"What part of I don't need or want your help did you NOT understand?!"

The eavestrough groaned once more, dipping down even farther. Jack's hands slipped down a bit; he grimaced.

"Jack you are HANGING from a GUTTER," Lucy said, hands on her hips. "I know you really wanna prove Uncle Scott wrong but don't you think this is a little much?"

"No," Jack said, the same time Jacqueline said "He definitely does not."

Lucy sighed, shaking her head. "We've gotta get him down from there. Being nice isn't working."

"I hate that Jack and Santa are trapped in like, this eternal pissing contest where they just have to one up each other every time," Jacqueline huffed.

"We've gotta like, one up the both of them. Or like, maybe try a different approach? We could embarrass him, maybe? Roast him? Annoy him until he accepts our help? Maybe even be mean?"

Jacqueline's face lit up. "I have an idea," she said. She leant in close, whispering into Lucy's ear.

The redhead's face lit up now, too. "Do it," she said.

"I don't like your tone," Jack said from the roof, trying to slowly climb his way up the eavestrough now. "What are you two doing?!"

"Oh, nothing!" Jacqueline said sweetly, pulling her phone out of her pouch pocket. She popped the pop socket out, twirling it between her fingers before unlocking the phone, and scrolling through her contacts. The metallic blue back of her phone sparkled in the sunlight, the reflection nearly blinding Jack.

"That doesn't look like nothing, Jacqueline!"

She slurped in response, scrolling through her phone until she found who she was looking for. She smirked, straw still in her mouth, and clicked call.

"Oh my god, Hi Kills! You would not BELIEVE what dumb shit Jack is doing," she said, walking away, as Jack felt the colour in his face drain as fast as the crap that had been caught in the gutter had sloshed on him when he grabbed it to keep from falling in the first place.

"She's not actually calling him, is she, Luce?"

"Sorry Jack, you forced our hands," Lucy said, shaking her head sadly and trying very hard to hold back a smile in favour of a more serious facade.

"You're not sorry at all," he said, somehow managing to succeed in sliding up the gutter more.

Lucy covered her laugh with her hand, Jacqueline joining her side once more. "I know I'm not," she sassed with a smirk, Lucy having to physically turn away to hide her laughter, busying herself with a very long pull of her smoothie.

"Of course you aren't," Jack said, flushing as he heard the familiar sound of someone stepping out of the shadows.

And sighing, annoyed, when this was followed by a very loud bout of laughter.

"Jack, you know, I'm all for your crazy shenanigans, but this one? You're gonna have to walk me through it," Killian, the Boogeyman himself, taunted, stopping beside Jacqueline, his hands in his pockets, an amused look on his face.

"Nice to see you too, Killian," Jack said, with a resolute sigh.

"Kills. It is so important to me that you ask me how he got there."

"Jacqueline, how on earth did he get there?" Killian asked, heavy on the sarcasm.

"HE SLIPPED ON ICE!"

Now all three of them were laughing. Jack was sure that if his face turned any redder, his hair would combust and turn to fire.

"The only thing that would make this funnier," Killian said, wiping away a tear, "Is if it was his own ice."

"Oh well I am about to MAKE your DAY—"

"JACQUELINE DO NOT—"

"IT WAS," Jacqueline shouted over Jack, with an absolutely FERAL grin.

The laughter started up again. Jack felt himself sliding back down, the little progress he had made reversing in an instant.

"Sure you still don't want any help?" Lucy asked.

"I'm sure he's fine," Killian said with a smirk. "It looks like he's just hanging out."

Lucy laughed; Jacqueline snorted. "That was bad."

"So bad it was good," Killian replied. "Seriously though, Jack. What is all this?"

"Santa doesn't think that I can put up Christmas lights," Jack began. "I'm merely proving him wrong."

"Wrong?" Killian asked. "That doesn't look," he held back a laugh. "Are you sure you know the meaning of the word?"

"He absolutely does not," Jacqueline said, giving her icy confection a stir.

"I do so!"

"Do not!"

"Do so! This is all going as planned—"

"It is not," Killian said. "How is this part of the plan, snowman?"

"You rat bastard, I'll have you know that I got a whole side of the house done! See? Look at them! They're sticking to the house better than the eavestrough is!"

"And where do you fall on that scale?" Killian asked, eyebrow raised.

Jack slid down the eaves some more.

"Better than the eaves, but worse than the lights," Jacqueline said thoughtfully, Lucy snorting.

Killian smirked. "I actually think the eaves are doing better than him."

Jack gasped indignantly.

Both girls were doubled over in laughter at this point; Jacqueline was leaning on Lucy's back, the young adult holding her knees as she wheezed.

"Oh, what would you know about eaves?" Jack snapped.

"More then you, apparently, since I wouldn't have grabbed them to stop a fall in the first place!"

"I'm not going to fall!"

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not! I told you, everything is under control—" the eaves bent even more, cutting Jack off.

"There's no way they can keep supporting you, especially with how close to the edge you are. Why are you being so stubborn?!" Killian demanded.

"BeCAUSE," Jack replied, "Scott was way jerkier than usual about it! He is not aging with grace and it shows."

"That's actually very true," Jacqueline said, Lucy nodding in agreement.

"See? Anyway, it's a matter of pride, Kills!"

"When isn't it with you?"

"I—okay fine, that's fair. You got me there," Jack conceded, Killian crossing his arms with a satisfied smile.

"If you're not gonna let any of us help, the least you can do is a flip on your way down," Kills said.

"That's so mean!"

"Let him have this, Jack!" Jacqueline said. "You broke the guy's heart! I think he deserves to see you flip on your way down!"

"Thank you, Jacqueline." Killian said, dryly. "That's very sweet in a very. You way."

"I try," she said with a shrug, her ponytail happily bouncing, any double meaning flying right over her head. Lucy rolled her eyes.

"You know, Scott's not even here! How would he know if you got help?"

"That whole, creepy, he sees you when you're sleeping? Knows when you're awake?"

"No he doesn't."

"Yes he does!"

"No, he doesn't!"

"Yes, he DOES!"

"Our powers don't work on each other, Jack! He can't see you!"

Jack blinked slowly, realization hitting. "Our powers don't work on other Legendary—oh, shit. You are so r—"

But before Jack could finish, the eavestrough finally gave out. With one last groan, it snapped, and Jack went flying.

Lucy gasped, stepping forward then stopping, unsure how to help. Jacqueline and Killian lunged forwards at the same time.

The snow bank beneath Jack swirled up, meeting him halfway and sliding him forwards. He flipped through the air, a pair of shadowy arms reaching out and grabbing him before he could hit the ground.

He landed, bridal style, right into Killian's arms. He blinked up at the man.

Killian blinked back.

Jack blushed.

Killian smirked.

"Sorry, you were going to say something?"

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were. I think it was something about me being right?"

"That doesn't sound right."

"No you definitely were," Jacqueline said.

"And you were ALSO going to say that not asking for help is stupid and competing against Uncle Scott is stupid and that this whole thing you two do all the time is stupid," Lucy said, ticking each item off her fingers, Jacqueline nodding and slurping in agreement.

"Well how do I know you guys won't tell?" Jack said, crossing his arms in a huff (still being held by Killian).

"I'll make sure that Uncle Scott knows you did an amazing job with no help at all," Lucy said, sweetly. "I promise."

"I'm no snitch," Jacqueline said.

"That's a lie," Jack said.

"No it's not!" Jacqueline said, aghast.

"And if she does tattle," Killian said, turning his head almost completely around to face her, exorcism style. "I'll eat her toes."

"THAT doesn't work on me anymore," Jacqueline said. "You're not going to eat my toes."

"Yes he will," Jack said. "Fingers AND toes!"

"I don't believe that for a second, but I am very fond of those appendages so you have my word, I will NOT tattle, Sprite's honour, I swear. Please stop looking at me like that, Killian, it's making my neck hurt for you."

Satisfied with the sprite's promise, Killian turned back to Jack. "You'll let us help now?"

"Yeah, sure," Jack said.

"Good. I'm going to put you down now."

"And I was just getting comfortable," Jack replied.

Now it was his turn to blush. The boogeyman frowned, looking away and dropping Jack into the snow pile below him. The sprite landed with an oof, the snow poofing up around him.

Both Legendary figures completely missed the look Lucy and Jacqueline shared, and the subsequent fist bump of a job well done.

[stuff-that-makes-me-happy]

Appreciating my fave artist for a sec, Foo Midori. They've gotten work for both Cardfight Vanguard and FEH, both of which I love.

BUT, I swear, they got snubbed on super hard on both of those titles. FEH's snubbing is much worse, obviously. Midori happened to drop a BANGER with Hot Springs Hinoka, and then for some reason, never got to do another unit. So, I have a soft spot for Hot Springs Hinoka in particular. I think she's super inventive and has a ton of personality in a lot of her arts. I think she creates a more mesmerizing level of coolness than some super ornate units despite the limitations of the prompt. That's just Foo Midori quality.

CFV gave Midori a ton more work, but I'm mad about the treatment of Lauris. Now, I really like Hinoka, but it's in no way proportional to how much I LOVE Lauris.

So, Lauris hit a bunch of axis at once for me. Bermuda Triangle is my fave clan, Harmony was by far my favorite mechanic due to it having interesting skill expression options without being obtuse, and the headliner was drawn by my fave artist!

Lauris was a huge deal, imo, just because Foo Midori hadn't really designed a unit that would just keep going before. Lots of little 1-offs. Lauris was a stride bearer which is a faction in CFV that got MASSIVE attention. You could expect these names to just keep pumping out new units. Lauris...didn't though.

Lauris didn't get much of any support throughout all of her time in existence. She did get 2 of her "expected" alts as a stride bearer, but some were just never released. Then she was demoted to no longer being the face of Harmony. It's a little sad. If it wasn't for my nostalgia for Lauris, I almost might not have wanted to see my fave artist get to design a major character that didn't take off...

She hasn't gotten anything new in almost a decade, but from what I can see D series is releasing new versions of the Stride Bearers. Hopefully down the line we get a brand new Lauris!

I had to step away from the TCG for some years due to losing all of my options for local events, but I found a store recently. So, maybe this time in a year or 2 I'll be able to represent again for this very personally nostagic character!

Here's some of Foo Midori's socials, btw: https://www.pixiv.net/en/users/635526 https://x.com/foomidori/media

[justagrin]

smth i shoved into a discord group specifically for people to talk about SA (tw for implied csa/rape/incest)

oooof one of my friends disclosed to me that (tw sa & incest) their dad SA'd them (at least once? idk if its a reoccuring thing i didnt ask any questions n they understandably clammed up n changed the subject n i said "hey if you ever need to talk about anything i have similar experiences" but oh boy is it lowkey triggering that stuff for me rn. idefk if my stuff counts as sa tho. like i know my dad sexualised me a lot like verbally as a kid and i remember being disgusted all the time and i remember being fucking terrified of him all the time even when he didn't seem to be doing anything. and i remember him often saying or doing stuff and i'd just think to meself "ok we're repressing that!" (unsurprisingly i don't remember what actually prompted that). i dont have any memories of him touching me but i have some of someone touching me and the way i react to certain sexual situations is sus as fuck, but honestly those could be two entirely different things but idk! idk. i just remember telling my mum that all the stuff he said made me uncomfy and predictably got told i was "overreacting" and that it was "normal" which turned into "he just doesn't know when something's inappropriate" and honestly thats the closest to closure i'm ever gonna get but whatever. anyway the dots aren't connected enough to me to outright say i relate and im sure as fuck not ready to actually talk about it to anyone irl but yeah. idk where i was going with this tbh. i have a notebook of stuff from my childhood related to that^ (from when i've remembered them, but most of the stuff in the book i can't remember unless i read it over again) and my friends who've seen it have reacted with pretty strong disgust but idk. my entire childhood was that & gaslighting myself into thinking i was overreacting (which btw!! lead to me getting SA'd and harassed so many fucking times as an adult!!!) so it was normal to me pfft and counsellors i've shown it to all refuse to give me a solid answer bc they don't wanna "risk giving me false memories") but agghhh. one thing i definitely remember is whenever i had discharge or my period in my teens i'd just. want to cry and shake and curl up and errrrrrrmmmmmmm thats not normal lol. something was definitely wrong there but idk if i'll ever fucking be able to figure out what that is.

ok yeah i dug the notebook out again and (same tw's as above, just kind of graphic and intense) yeah theres a bit in there about him crawling into my bes and i was freaked the fuck out so i just ran out of the room and when i told my mum i was told it was "normal". and theres a bit where i was 14 and drew art based on the song pantsu nugeru mon (lit: i can take off my panties) bc i was 14!! i wasn't THINKING anything secxual!! it was a song about growing up to me! so my dumb ass showed my dad bc i was proud of the art itself and he got really weird and intense and close and was like "what are you going to do when you take off your panties?" which. ew. gross. fuck off. oh and that one time i fell asleep on the sofa and i guess i had a sex dream or smth which i didnt think anything of until my dad randomly got intense and weird again and asked if i "had any interesting dreams" that night (which he never usually does ffs). oh and he fully called ma tease relatively recently actually, and said i should call my (now ex) boyfriend "daddy", has referred to himself as my "daddy" in THAT godawful tone and makes frequent BDSM jokes towards his sister which is just an example of the verbal shit i had to put up with and idk how anyone in the room when it happens can excuse it but to them i guess its one weird thing he said they can brush off bc they don't realise i had to hear it CONSTANTLY and deal with what he DID to and they didn't see the scary moments. i also remember reading a magazine article about incest/csa when i was like 11ish?? and idk WHAT it triggered but my absolute fear of my dad/older men in general kind of started after that and my mum always said it was reading the magazine that did it but bro i dont think one thing like that can elicit a decade or so of consistent fight or flight mode I think my body remembered stuff that I can't.

Jesus fucking christ thats the most concise way i've ever actually described that. idk if anyone can relate or anything. also honestly now that he's been relatively "good" for a few years now in terms of how he speaks to me i don't really get the fear response anymore. and i'm dependent on him for finances and medical stuff so its. whatever. i guess. i'm fucking terrified that if i ever have a daughter he'll pull the same shit (hence basically nuking my body with birth control lmao) and luckily my brother's kids are both boys so i don't believe he's a threat to them if he didnt treat my brothers the same way he did me ygm? but idk what i can actually do about it

[devildom-drabbles]

Here's a request (not do feel obligated to do this at all if you don't want to :D)

Lucifer, Levi, Asmo, Satan react to:

MC (a smart student) getting an F on their test

And when they get questioned about it they say:

"... What are you going to do about it? Hang me up to the ceiling? Are you going to call me stupid, useless, idiot, scumbag, a disgrace to this family, an embarrassment? Are you going to punish me?"

And how ever they answer MC will continue

"Why or why not? I'm 'stupid' like Mammon now and now that I embarrassed and tainted diavolo's reputation, you will treat me the way you treat mammon because it's 'deserved' for my stupidity, right?"

"And then they turn away towards the door, "I hate you demon's who think it's ok to mentally/psychologically/emotionally abuse their brother. Their OWN brother! And yet can turn a blind eye for some human. Treat mammon better, the lot of you!!"

(I love you btw and would wanna platonic-ly marry you)

(Oh my, Anon. 😳  Let’s at least platonic-ly go out to dinner first.  Hehe, thank you for your sweet words.)  It was interesting to think about how these boys would react to MC getting angry at them about this. A bit of angst ahead, just to forewarn you all.  I hope I did this prompt justice.  Enjoy!

How would Lucifer, Leviathan, Asmodeus, and Satan react to MC criticizing how they treat Mammon?

As part of his weekly routine to assess his brothers’ and the human exchange student’s progress at RAD, Lucifer had just asked MC to come to his study to look at their most recent exam results.  He was relaxed since he expected to see only high marks from the academically skilled human, but that quickly changed when they handed him a paper with a failing grade written boldly at the top of it.  Considering this was a rarity, he wasn't upset, but he did want to know the reason behind it, his ever-stoic expression masking the twinge of worry he felt.  “Care to explain this?” he inquired.  Rather than an answer, he was met with MC’s sudden line of questioning, and his concern grew at the thought that something had happened to them recently to cause this unusual behavior.  He lowered his eyebrows as he calmly explained, “A punishment would only be necessary if you were neglecting your studies or chose not to put any effort in while taking the exam.  But I’ve seen what you’re capable of and all that you’ve accomplished since your arrival in the Devildom, so I have no reason to believe that this was intentional.”  The outburst that followed had shocked him even more than their low test score.  Was that really how MC viewed his relationship with Mammon?  After a moment of thought, he supposed that’s how it could be seen from an outsider’s perspective.

In truth, despite his frequent harsh words, he cared deeply for his younger brother who he could always rely on in serious situations and was competent in anything he set his mind to, and he’s felt this way since their days together in the Celestial Realm.  But Mammon was also a troublemaker who preferred to leap without thinking, take the easy way out of things, and would secretly sell others’ belongings just for a little extra cash, which, in Lucifer’s mind, made him deserving of the negative comments and punishments he received.  The intention wasn’t to abuse Mammon, but rather to make him aware of his detrimental choices and, ideally, deter him from repeating these kinds of actions.  But without saying any of this aloud before the human retreated from his study, how would MC ever know?  The Avatar of Pride rubbed his temple with a sigh, a new headache beginning to gnaw at him.  It’d be difficult, but he’d have to think of a way to explain this to MC, and if they were still upset with him afterward, then that was their decision.  Plus, there was still the matter of why they flunked their recent exam, so a conversation with them needed to happen sooner rather than later.  For now though, he needed to continue checking everyone else’s test scores, and lo and behold, it was Mammon’s turn.  The second-born was expecting a couple thousand lashing for his low grades shortly after being called to come to the study, but instead he just received a warning for a punishment if he were to perform poorly again next time.

Leviathan could feel his mouth gape open as he stared wide-eyed back at MC, the blue lights from his bedroom aquarium illuminating their agitated features.  All he could think about was how stupid he was for even mentioning the test score he accidentally saw sticking out of MC’s school bag, his words fumbling out in a panic to assure them that he wouldn’t treat them differently just because they failed an exam.  “Besides,” he added, “your score is still probably better than Mammon’s--”  His lips immediately sealed shut when the human resumed their argument, bringing up his treatment of Mammon as well.  Seriously, could he not say anything right today?!  Once he heard MC utter the words “I hate you” toward the end of their declaration, Levi wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never return, not even having the willpower to beg them to wait before they shut his bedroom door behind them.  After a bit of self-loathing, a different type of anger began to boil within Levi.  ...Stupid Mammon.  Stupid Mammon!  It’s Mammon’s fault that MC was angry with him!  Why was MC--his best friend, his Henry--defending that scumbag anyway?!  It wasn’t fair!  Mammon didn’t deserve their kindness!  If that no-good, thieving, idiot of a brother of his would just--!!  

Levi paused when he heard a collection of things clatter to the floor, only then noticing that he had turned into his demon form and whacked some of his figurines down from a shelf with his tail.  He panicked as he examined their condition.  He was prepared to summon Lotan if he found even a single scratch on any of the rare collectibles, like this one of Ruri-chan that was released in a contest to celebrate the announcement of the anime’s second season and only ten of them were made--  He stopped himself completely as he recalled how this figurine wouldn’t even be in his possession if it weren’t for Mammon.  The crafty demon had somehow managed to locate one of the contest winners and win the figurine in a bet he made with them in order for Levi to have it.  As the otaku’s eyes scanned over his shelves of games, books, and collectibles, he realized that quite a handful of these items that he cherished were there thanks to Mammon.  He then thought about a variety of other things that Mammon had done for him in just the past one hundred years alone.  Despite their squabbles, Levi supposed the greedy demon wasn’t the worst brother ever, so he could try to treat him a little better.  But that didn’t mean that he forgave Mammon for all the money he still owed him and all of the belongings he sold behind his back!  ...Ugh, this was going to be hard, but the Lord of Shadow would do anything for his Henry, so he had to give it his best.  Time to remend his friendship with MC and be a bit nicer to Mammon!

Asmodeus had invited MC to his room for a spa night as a way to relieve his stress from the test-filled week at RAD.  The two of them were in the middle of taking off their face masks when Asmo was complaining about how he only just barely got a passing grade after all the studying he did for one of the exams, which prompted him to remark how MC likely passed with flying colors as usual.  His glowing smile faltered when he noticed how the human’s attitude changed while admitting that they had failed that exam.  He was about to reassure them when they started questioning what negative reactions he would have toward them as a result of their poor grade.  “MC, do you really think I would ever say or do such terrible things to you?” he asked with a frown.  “It breaks my heart to hear you even suggest that.”  The latter half of their comeback was enough to shatter his heart entirely--seeing them so upset was troubling enough to him, but the fact that he was part of the reason they were feeling this way made it even worse.  He called their name pleadingly, reaching a hand out as he took a few steps toward them, but his words fell on deaf ears as they left his room without looking back.

As he collapsed onto his bed, Asmo wondered if he and his brothers were really that cruel to Mammon.  He could agree that they weren’t nice to him all of the time, but their frustration with him was justifiable, right?  Like the other day, Mammon had wanted to “borrow” some of his clothing and ended up selling them on Devilcari!  Wasn’t it only fair that he called his greedy brother a “scumbag” among other similar terms and ratted him out to Lucifer so he’d be punished for such a heinous crime?  Honestly, Asmo couldn’t believe he had someone like that for a brother!  Has there ever been a time where Mammon didn’t think about money first?!  ...Oh, well, he wasn’t like that in the Celestial Realm.  Back then, Asmo recalled, Mammon was someone he could depend on, even stepping in to protect him on numerous occasions when he did something wrong.  And although the second-born would grumble about it, Mammon ultimately would help him with whatever he asked for.  Actually, he still does that.  Mammon will pick up the beauty products Asmo wants even though he’s out shopping for himself; Mammon has helped him record videos and take photos for his social media accounts; Mammon could get both of them into invite-only parties, and he really is a lot of fun to hang out with during them--  Okay, maybe he wasn’t such a bad brother after all.  In fact, if he wasn’t around, things just wouldn’t be quite as exciting.  Asmo blew air up at his long bangs in defeat.  He’d have to properly apologize to MC and Mammon for his behavior, but first he needed to freshen up so he looked his best.  In any case, when Mammon causes him grief in the future, Asmo will at least try to avoid using jeering words.

Satan had decided to join MC in the House of Lamentation’s library, taking a seat next to the human as they did their homework while he did some student council work on his laptop.  The peaceful atmosphere he so cherished came to an abrupt end the moment he asked MC if he could look at their Devildom Law test that they got back earlier--he knew that they always did well on the exams, and since he had gotten a few questions wrong on his test, he wanted to see if they had the correct answers.  An uncomfortable silence fell over the human as they held out the test toward him.  Satan immediately realized what the issue was upon seeing all the red x’s and scribbles written on the front page alone, but before he could offer to go over content together as a way to help them, MC was already guessing what his response would be.  His initial surprise from their remarks gradually shifted into a mix of confusion and annoyance the longer they went on.  “Excuse me?” he questioned them, aware that he’d lose his temper if he stayed quiet.  “Why are you comparing yourself to Mammon?  And worse than that, you seem to be assuming that I’d react the way that Lucifer does whenever we get in trouble.  I’m not him, and you’re not Mammon.  What exactly has brought this on, MC?”

The truth came out as the human gathered their items and moved to exit the library.  Wanting to confront the issue rather than letting it stew, Satan grabbed their arm before they could leave.  “Now hold on a minute,” he demanded.  “You do realize that demons aren’t exactly known for being kind, right?  Mammon can be quite ruthless when he wants to be, too.  He may treat you differently because he likes you, but that’s not how he is with everyone.”  He loosened his grip on MC’s arm.  “Look, you haven’t known Mammon for as long as my brothers and I have, but I know you’ve seen how he usually acts.  He’s always in an endless cycle of gambling away what little money he has and then stealing what he can--even from his own brothers--or using other underhanded means just to get more of it.  And because of that, he’s got debt collectors and witches alike trying to track him down on a daily basis, and even we get roped into fixing his messes or suffering the consequences of his actions, like when we were forced to work as bunny boys.  He also never learns from his mistakes and doesn’t care about schoolwork either.  That’s why he ends up on the receiving end of Lucifer’s punishments far more often than the rest of us.  When you lay out these facts, doesn’t it make sense why we’re constantly so frustrated with him?”  

MC’s unwavering glare made Satan sigh.  “Even so,” he continued, “I guess I can’t deny that my brothers and I can be rather harsh toward him most days.  It’s basically a habit for us to toss out an “idiot” or “scumbag” despite him not doing anything at the time.  But we don’t actually hate him, nor do we want to abuse him.  He’s Lucifer’s favorite little brother without a doubt; the twins love it when he coddles them, no matter what they may say otherwise; he’s one of the first demons Asmo likes to go to with gossip or for input on the latest fashion trends; Levi is usually excited whenever he wants to play video games with him, and he keeps lending Mammon money even though he’s rarely ever paid back; and as for myself...”  The Avatar of Wrath smiled bashfully.  “Well, I’m grateful for the times he’s helped me to calm down and avoid slipping into my demon form.  I’ve also lost track of how many times he’s gotten us things that we really wanted and would try to brush it off like he obtained them by ‘coincidence.’  Mammon...looks out for us in his own way.  He’s a strange sort of rock in this family that bounces back from whatever is thrown at him.  ...Maybe...that’s why we don’t feel bad when we ridicule him?”  Satan pondered for a moment.  “All right, I get it, MC.  We let ourselves go too far in our treatment toward him.  I’ll talk to the others about what you said, but I doubt we’re all going to magically change our behavior overnight, just like Mammon hasn’t changed in all these years.  So, give us some time, okay?”

[bbyannabeth]

“what, am i not allowed to look at you?” with the percabeth academic rivals au? hope you’re feeling better btw! <3

send me prompts!

okay, sue him, but percy thought that annabeth chase was beautiful when she was angry. well, she was beautiful all the time, but even more so when she was mad. especially when the anger wasn't directed at him like it normally was.

currently, she was pissed because their advanced english teacher had given them both a 72% on their poetry tests. annabeth was grumbling under her breath, sifting through the exam packet, and sending deadly glares towards their teacher when he wasn't looking.

adorable.

don't get him wrong, percy was upset too. but his feelings for annabeth very much overshadowed anything else right now. he hadn't even realized he was staring until she met his eyes. "what?" she snapped.

percy blinked. "what, am i not allowed to look at you?" he asked, immediately turning defensive. "god. i was just about to ask if you think we'll be able to make the test up?"

if annabeth caught his lie, she didn't say anything about it. percy suspected she was too angry to even really focus on him right now. she sighed, frustrated. "i don't know," she said. "i don't remember. i might try to convince him into letting us retake it."

percy didn't miss the way she'd said us. whether it had been intentional or not, she wasn't planning on leaving him to his own devices. percy held back a smile. he noticed little things like that more and more recently, and he really hoped it meant annabeth was starting to warm up to him.

[fleetsonourgecentral]

Hi! I've recently dipped back into the Sonic fandom, and I've been checking out your blog as of late! I really like it btw, very cool content!

If you're still doing the prompt list and it hasn't been done already, could you do 8? Thanks!

Thank you so much, I'm glad you like my blog!

8- “Fuck…. I knew I should have bought those light up sneakers.”

Scourge was on the verge of becoming a marvel to science. He was hours, if not minutes, away from developing the ability to defy gravity for an unlimited amount of time. Because if he had to sit inside for much longer, he was going to literally start climbing the walls and crawling on the ceiling like some kind of sleep paralysis hedgehog demon.

Foot tapping impatiently, he checked the clock. Yep, just as he expected. He'd been inside for three hours and thirty seven minutes, and a glance to the window confirmed he would most likely be stuck for a few more hours.

Seriously, how the fuck was one planet capable of raining so fucking much?

More importantly, what the fuck was wrong with its citizens that most of them voluntarily went out in said rain even when their plans were completely unsuited for it?

Then again, the longer Scourge was trapped inside, the longer he understood the urge to say "fuck the weather" and go do something. Anything.

Sighing, Scourge threw himself onto the couch and flung an arm across his eyes dramatically, even though no one was there to see it. Sonic had gone out for a run five hours ago, and Scourge had taken great delight in knowing the bastard was caught in the rain for all of fifteen minutes before his bastard friends cheerfully announced they were leaving to watch some stupid outdoor dancing competition despite the fact the sky was attempting to drown the planet. Then he'd watched in horror as they left the warm, dry safety of their base armed with two coats and a single, tiny umbrella that would not cover all of them and was a fucking afterthought.

To be fair, he probably would have also given in and just subjected himself to the weather to go on a run, but there was one, teensy tiny itty bitty little problem with his plan: he had no fucking shoes. Because his were destroyed yesterday during a fight involving acid that absolutely wrecked his (custom!!!) sneakers. And not even Scourge, in all his boredom and lack of impulse control, was willing to go out in the rain for a run with no shoes. Wet socks were not worth the momentary relief of doing something, nor would they be worth the ridicule he'd receive once he returned and everyone found out he went running in only his socks.

Besides, Scourge's ankles were already infuriatingly weak, and slipping in the rain without any shoes could leave him with an actual injury instead of just bruised pride, which would result in even more time stuck inside as he healed, and, ugh. It wasn't worth the risk.

That didn't mean he wasn't strongly considering trying to chew through the arm of the couch just to see if he could.

Maybe he could go to the lab and bother Kintobor? Sure, he wasn't allowed in the lab without supervision, but hey, no one was around to tell him off. And Kintobor was surprisingly willing to share embarrassing stories of Sonic, which made for great blackmail material, even though Scourge honestly had no idea how the hell a fucking AI knew any of said stories.

Ugh, but Kintobor was also a snitch, and even if he humored Scourge, he would definitely tell Sonic about the rule breaking when he got back, and as funny as it was to piss Sonic off, Scourge wasn't in the mood for the argument it would cause. It wouldn't even be a fun argument. Sonic was weirdly protective over that hunk of junk, although he'd spend his last breath denying it, and if Scourge went into the lab without supervision, the weirdo would consider it some kind of threat or some shit. Plus, he'd just gotten enough trust to stay in the base alone. Getting a few embarrassing stories wasn't worth getting his no-babysitter-required rights revoked.

Back to contemplating chewing through the couch it was.

"Fuck... I knew I should have bought those light up sneakers," Scourge muttered, shifting so his head was dangling over the edge and his legs were swung over the back of the couch. They'd been gorgeous sneakers, too. Black with red and green highlights, and nine - nine! - different settings for the lights. Scourge had wanted them so, so fucking badly, but he'd forced himself to walk away without even stealing a pair. They just wouldn't support his ankles the way he needed them to, and there was no point owning sneakers, not even gorgeous, light up ones, he couldn't wear.

Fuck, but he'd take any shoes over no shoes right now. If he just had those sneakers he could go out for a run. Not too far, just in case his ankles gave out on him, but any short run would do. Fifteen minutes, that's all he needed to alleviate his mind-numbing boredom-

The front door opening had Scourge scrambling to get up. Finally, finally, someone to harass.

He tried very hard not to feel like a pet rushing to greet their owner as he bolted to the door, just in time to watch Sonic step inside, absolutely drenched and clutching some bags.

Excellent, his favourite victim.

"You look like a drowned rat," Scourge said, leaning against the wall and trying not to look longingly outside.

"That happens at least once a week," Sonic said, although his grimace gave away how less than pleased he was with his soaked fur. "Where are the others?"

"Gone watching some dancing competition."

"Ah, shit, was that today?"

"Fucking apparently, although why it wasn't cancelled I'll never know."

Sonic snorted. "If we cancelled events every time there was a bit of bad weather, we'd never get anything done."

"If they come back with a cold and infect me, I'll be pissed."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how colds work," Sonic said, dumping the bags on the nearest table. "Make yourself useful and help me put all this shit away."

Scourge rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, but grabbed the nearest bag anyway. Even something as mundane as putting away groceries was more interesting than sitting down and letting his brain try to eat itself.

As he peeked into the bag, though, he paused, frowning in confusion. "What's with the shoe box?"

"I bought trainers."

"Sneakers. No shit. But why? You never buy shoes, you get yours made because you wear out normal sneakers way too fast."

"They're for you, genius," Sonic said, rooting through his own bag.

Scourge short circuited. "Huh?"

"They're. For. You." Sonic repeated, rolling his eyes. "I didn't want to listen to you bitch about not being able to leave the base, so I bought you some trainers while I was out."

Scourge blinked. That was... he knew he needed new shoes, but he thought he'd need to order them online and wait for them to arrive. Or, at the very least, for one of the girls to go fetch him some shoes, if he promised to pay them back. But Sonic? Sonic didn't do shit like this. Not without a healthy amount of whining, pestering, irritation, and bribery. Tails once broke his own bed by jumping on it too much, and Sonic told him to "take his wallet and walk his ass down to the shop to buy his own damn bed, and call someone when he needed to bring it home."

So, yeah, Sonic doing something so... so nice, especially out of the blue (ha), was suspicious, to say the least.

"What do you want from me," Scourge said slowly, taking out the shoe box and holding it at arms length like it was about to explode.

"For you to pay me back," Sonic said, which, yeah, that, at least, sounded like him. "Don't worry, I got the cheapest ones I could find that weren't complete shite, 'cause I know you're broke as fuck. Just try not to run too fast in them. I don't know what kinda shit your dimension makes shoes out of, but in this dimension, it's not normal. You will destroy them in five minutes, max, if you run at top speed, so don't do that."

Scourge cautiously set the shoe box on the table and opened it, pulling out the sneakers to inspect them.

"These are the ugliest sneakers I've ever seen in my life," Scourge said.

"What part of cheap did you not understand?"

"They don't match my jacket."

"Sure they do. They both look like shit."

"How am I supposed to not run? Do you want me dead? Because I know for a fact you'd sooner die than not be able to run, and I don't know why you think I'm any different."

Sonic let out a long, long sigh. "They're temporary. Just to let you get out of the house until we can make you new trainers that can withstand your speed. I'd lend you a pair of mine, but I know your ankles need extra support, and those were the cheapest shoes I could find that give that support. So you'll just have to suck it up and deal with them until we can make you new ones."

He bought sneakers specifically with Scourge's weak ankles in mind?

... Huh.

That was... surprisingly thoughtful.

"You're lucky I can make anything look good," Scourge said at last. "These sneakers would make anyone else look like shit and destroy their reputation."

"I'd say that's what I'm hoping for, but no one cares about you enough for you to have a reputation. Now help me put this shit away."

Scourge slipped the new sneakers on - thank fuck he and Sonic were the same size, these sneakers may not be as comfy as his old ones, but at least they fit - and got to work. He only complained a little, which was the closest Sonic was going to get to a thank you, and they got about halfway through their task before Scourge finally registered one of Sonic's other statements.

"Hey! I'm not fucking broke, you bastard!"

[funkwhistle]

Flaco Hernandez Alphabet

Warnings: Read at your own risk - it's NSFW (exhibitionism, mentions of wax play, blood/knife kink, bondage - but only briefly)

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

Will always check on you afterwards

Whether it's just wrapping in you in some blankets to keep you warm to gently massaging your sore muscles; anything he can do to make you comfortable, he will.

Kisses everywhere — peppering you in affection and praise

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

Flaco loves your eyes first off — when you're all bundled up in furs they're pretty much the only thing he can see, and they light up whenever you catch a glimpse of him.

But also your legs, and how they always manage to get tangled in his own as you lay there

Or how you use them to hold him deeper into you as he fucks you

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Depends on his mood, usually loves staying inside you for as long as possible, if that includes coming inside you

But if you ask him, he'd more than happily cum over your stomach (even if he did grumble about how cold it was when he wasn't inside you)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves cock warming

He heard his men speak about one of the townsfolk doing it once, and Flaco will ask you to do at any opportunity.

Maybe the thrill of doing it in public does something to him, but he firmly believes it actually keeps him warmer

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Flaco refuses to speak of it, but guessing his legendary status he wasn't a virgin when you met him

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

mating press — nothing more to add

(and not mattress press)

google it at your own risk — on your own head be it

from something @mallr4ts said ages ago

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

You often find yourself laughing at him, and how seriously he takes himself

But he has been known to laugh a little during sex (mostly when one of you falls over)

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

This man lives in the Grizzlies, do you think he has time to get a full wax?

But in all fairness, he likes to keep it neat (ish) down there

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Eh, depends on — if he hasn't seen you in a while, then the softer side of him goes out the window, that man is nearly always turned on

But that's not to say he doesn't love some tender moments with you

J = Jack Off (Masturbation head canon)

Yes, of course — you're not with him for long, and it's either his hand or travel miles to find you

He's wanted to try mutual masturbation with you one day, but somehow your clothes are on the floor and his cock is in you before he can suggest it

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

As mentioned, cock warming, but he also loves edging you, possibly teasing you for hours until you practically begging for him.

He's heard of most things, but it often takes him a while to warm up to the idea of something new if you suggest it to him

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

I mean, the bed is almost the only thing in the cabin

But fireside on the floor is up there with favourite places — anywhere with you, he'd be happy

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

You taking the lead

Aside from just looking at you, he loves nothing more than you shoving him onto the bed and sinking yourself down on him

Or you pulling him somewhere for an intimate moment

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Hurt you, in any way

So wax play, blood or knife kinks are completely off the table

He would occasionally tie you up, but only to be fussing over your comfort for the rest of the time

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

Loves (and always has loved) to receive, your lips wrapped around his cock, gagging as it hits the back of his throat — there's nothing which makes the man happier.

But recently he's been going down on you as well, and with his lack of experience you've been helping him

And he's enjoying it more and more now, asking to go down on you without you even prompting him

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.)

Hazard a guess

Fast, loves the sound of his skin hitting yours, loud enough to embarrass his men outside the cabin

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

yes yes yes

Any moment this man is not having sex, he's thinking about it — so yes

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

As mentioned, if you bring up something new with him, it takes him a while to warm up to it, but is willing to try a lot of things at least once.

“How can you say you don't like something without trying it first?”

But he does love the thrill of public intimacy

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Flaco brings this up frequently, worrying about how he can't keep up for more than one of two rounds now he's older, but you don't mind; he'll make you cum at least once before even thinking about himself

And this man will happily take a break until you're both ready again

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Nope

I don't think they had vibrators in 1899

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Flaco loves to tease you, to drive you right up the edge before leaving you, whining, on the bed waiting for him

And his hands

Hands everywhere all the time, no mater if you were in front of people, his hands would find themselves stroking circles on your inner thighs whenever he could

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not as loud as you thought he'd be, but when he's got more used to you, he'll start being more vocal

W = Wild Card (Get a random head canon for the character of your choice)

While his sex drive is astronomical, he is very controlled about it, preferring not to visit brothels etc

(although in his youth and height of fame it was a different story)

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture, or words)

…

He knows he's bigger than average and will not stop letting you know about it

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

This is man practically lives and breathes sex

Do I need to say any more?

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He'll check on you, but will often find himself snoring peacefully

Particularly after a long round

Something you find very endearing about him, always making sure to tuck him into bed, or curl yourself around him as he sleeps

(big thanks to @a-vast-african-plain & @oatcakebabie for correcting me about the mating press btw)

[valleyfthdolls]

hgfghkkhgfgjk alright just making sure, and don’t worry about it being good, I just wanna see them written by you

And if you need a prompt, 49 from fluff <33

49. "Is somebody jealous?"

Maurice grinned up at Funtime Freddy, eager to be the one teasing him after letting the bear do the same for so long.

"I'M NOT JEALOUS, CUPCAKE," Freddy retorted. "YOU'RE MINE, AND I'VE NOTHING TO BE JEALOUS OF."

"Right," Maurice said. "Except for my friends? And all the time I've been with them recently, and not down in the workshop with you? There's not a thing wrong with that."

"WELL, MAYBE I AM. BUT THAT'S OKAY. YOU'RE MINE, AND BOTH YOU AND I KNOW IT. BESIDES, LITTLE BUNNY, IT JUST MEANS MORE TIME TOGETHER LATER... AND FOREVER."

Maurice let out a soft chuckle- all teasing aside, Freddy's trust in him- possessive as he still was- was good to hear.

But that fleeting joy was replaced with a rush of butterflies as Freddy practically held Maurice's entire torso in one hand, stroking his cheek with the wrist of the other arm that lacked a hand.

(Freddy had once told Maurice that he'd had an old companion, a little buddy named Bon-Bon who resided on his left hand. He'd been brought to life and lived wholly alone in a storage facility, with only his dear hand puppet to keep him company. Then one day, when he was fully decommissioned, Bon-Bon was taken from his hand and scrapped for parts, and he'd never seen him again. He was smart enough to out two and two together that they were both small, frail and gentle, and he could hold them both close, and that was probably why Freddy was so protective over Maurice, so easily jealous, bordering on possessive.)

Before Freddy could make another move, though, Maurice leaned in and gave Freddy a quick kiss on the nose, startling him for a moment.

(But maybe that wasn't so bad.)

-

Btw you don't have to worry about sending me asks! I send asks about anything constantly to my friends and I love recieving asks that way too! Tysm for the request!

[stargazing-enby]

I had a dream that harry and draco were both aurors and they were married to ginny and astoria and then got sent to a mission and they had to do a steak out????? But ofc there was tension so they were like uuuuhhhhh we should bring our wives bc uuuuhhh we cant be away from them too long ya know and they all spend a month or two in a house and shit and ginny and astoria fall in love and bc theyre badass ladies they are upfront about it and then harry and draco are like.... Guess we should a dress

our thing too huh?? And then albus and scorpious have 2 moms and 2 dads (ginny and astoria were both pregnant btw, dont know if i already said that) and it was weirdly amazing and i didnt know who else to tell so yea

***

Anon, your mind. First of all, thanks so much for sharing your dream with me because it's honestly amazing. Second of all, I was re-reading your asks the other day wondering if I should try to write this, and soon after that I took the (ill-advised) decision to take a nap and started dreaming about your prompt. Now I feel like I share a special, oneiric connection with you! Anyway, I hope you enjoy :)

Thanks @april-thelightfury115 for betaing!

Drarry | 2.3k | Teen and Up | Falling in Love, Break Up, Getting Together, Kid Fic, Pregnancy | Read on AO3

At first, Ginny had been mad. Offended, even, that her husband had thought it a great idea to make her share a house with Astoria Malfoy for Merlin knew how long while he and Draco ran off to chase some suspect.

“The only thing that woman and I have in common is that we're pregnant,” Ginny had argued, “and that we're both married to bloody idiots!” 

Three weeks into the stakeout, however, Ginny had to admit she’d been wrong. Although wrong wasn't perhaps the most accurate of word choices, since she and Astoria were, like she’d suspected, completely different kinds of people. Where Ginny was passionate and intense, Astoria was quiet, an aura of serenity always surrounding her. Where Ginny bickered and joked and threw jibes around with her husband whenever she had the chance, Astoria was all subtle touches; a small caress to Draco's shoulder before they left home in the morning, a careful take care whispered in his ear. 

Where Ginny was fire, Astoria was water: cleansing and soothing and calm. 

But she had been utterly, dangerously wrong in that she couldn’t help but find Astoria Malfoy intoxicating. 

“Darling.” Astoria had recently taken to calling her that when they were on their own, in a tone that Ginny could not bring herself to believe to be purely neutral. “Are you sure you're not tired? I sincerely doubt they'll arrive before dawn this morning—we don't have to stay awake if you don't want to.”

“No, no—” Ginny couldn’t help but shiver as the small realisation washed over her for seemingly the hundredth time that night: the realisation that Harry, as much as she adored him, could not have had any less to do with her wanting to stay awake. “I don't want to give up the chance to beat you one more time.” 

Astoria smiled at her, cheeky.

“Very well,” she said, and, after a moment, moved one of her knights on the board. She didn't take her eyes off Ginny as the Knight destroyed one of Ginny's pawns; her eyes sparkled with naughty mirth, and Ginny's breath caught. 

A moment later, a wave of guilt drowned the butterflies in her stomach, and Ginny looked down at the chess board and told herself that she was in love with her husband. Utterly, helplessly in love. 

Except you aren't, a little voice said. You love him. You love him more than anything. You’ve loved him since forever; you'll love him for forever, because he'll always be the person who gave you your son. But you are not in love with him anymore. You haven't been for a while now. 

“Ginny.” 

She raised her head. 

“You're not thinking about the game.” 

It wasn't a question. 

Astoria knew. She wasn't stupid. She knew she wasn't meant to be calling Ginny darling, knew of the emotions—deep, fierce, raging—that ran under Ginny's skin whenever they shared a smile, a look; whenever one's fingertips found the other's knuckles and their knees brushed and bumped almost on their own accord in the middle of their nightly conversations. 

“I'm not,” Ginny said. “I'm thinking about us.” 

Astoria let out a breath, shoulders sagging. She looked down, but Ginny waited, gaze steady, for Astoria to look back up at her. 

“It's late,” Astoria said after a moment. 

“I think I'm falling in love with you.”

Astoria closed her eyes, a slow frown twisting her sharp features. 

“I know.” It was barely a murmur. 

“I know you know,” Ginny said, a challenge. 

Astoria met her gaze, then, and Ginny's resolve wavered when she realised just how terrified Astoria was.

“Hey,” Ginny murmured, standing up. Astoria, lips trembling, buckled over to make room for her in the settee. “Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry—” 

“It's not your fault.” Even though her head was turned away from Ginny, Astoria leaned into her touch. “None of this is your fault. Draco is—” Her voice broke, and Ginny held her hand with both of hers, aching, yearning to hold Astoria in her arms and take the pain away. But she couldn't. “Draco is a wonderful man. He's attentive, and loving, and he's funny, and…”

A tear fell into Astoria's shirt over her tummy. 

“And he's my best friend. But he and I are not in love. We never have been.”

That caught Ginny off-guard. 

“Never?” 

Astoria laughed, a broken, pathetic sound. 

“Never. Our parents planned our union soon after I left Hogwarts. I was horrified at first, but after getting to know him, there was a time when I really thought I would fall in love with him in time. That he'd fall in love with me. And we did end up loving each other, mind you: he will always be my closest friend. It's just not…”

“Yeah,” Ginny said softly. “I understand.”

Astoria turned to look at her, then. Seeing her teared up made something inside Ginny snap, and she reached out, held Astoria's cheeks in her hands, thumbing at her messy tears. 

“Harry and I were in love for a long time, but… I think he knows just as well as I do that the love we feel now is purely platonic.” She smiled—chuckled. “In fact, a small part of me suspects whatever he feels for Draco right now is more intense than what he ever felt for me.” 

That tore a laugh out of Astoria. 

“I would not be surprised if that was the case. Those two…” She shook her head. “They're incorrigible.”

Ginny groaned in agreement. A moment later, though, her smile faded away and she was left with Astoria's face cradled in her hands. Their legs pressed together, their eyes searching the other's face. Scared, but hopeful. 

Sliding her hands down Astoria's neck and shoulders, and then squeezing her arms, Ginny let out a slow, deep breath. 

“I think we need to have a conversation with our husbands.”

***

“You… What?” 

To Harry's credit, he looked more baffled than anything else. 

“We're in love,” Astoria repeated, voice steady, but gaze pleading with Draco to understand. 

“I… Okay. Okay. Give me one second.” Harry turned around and sat down on the nearest chair. 

Draco remained still. As far as Ginny was aware, he’d barely even blinked since they'd started explaining the situation to them.

“Are you going to say anything?” Harry asked after a moment, turning to Draco. When Draco shook his head, gaze still fixed in some distant point in space, Harry stood again, leaning his weight against the table. “Okay, so first of all, this is all extremely awkward.” 

“We were aware of that much, thank you,” Astoria said. 

“I mean, both of you are pregnant. With our babies.” He gestured between him and Draco. “Not to mention that we're married, although that's slightly less permanent…” 

Draco huffed, and the three of them turned to him. When he didn't say anything, Harry continued. 

“But I guess it… makes sense? I mean—you two are sort of like… the perfect opposites, you know. I always knew you would get on well. I didn't suspect you'd get on this well, but, hey—” 

“Have you—” Draco's head seemed to be stuck mid-shake, eyes scrunched closed. “Have you done anything? With one another?” 

“No, darling.” The word sounded different, Ginny thought, when Astoria used it for Draco. “We were waiting to tell you.” 

He nodded, but didn't say anything else. When Astoria approached him, Ginny took a step back to give them some space and leaned into the table with Harry. 

“I love you,” she told him. 

“And I you,” Harry said, eyes low. Gulping, he took Ginny's hand in his. “But… I mean, I think both of us had noticed that something was… that something wasn't…” 

“I know.” She squeezed his hand. “I know.” 

He looked up at her, and Merlin, he looked so, so vulnerable in that moment that Ginny wished more than ever that she could love him the way he deserved to be loved. But that simply wasn’t for her to do.

“I still would like for us to raise our son together,” he murmured. 

“We will. Harry, I don't care what happens from now on. You're still my best friend, and you're still the father of my kid. Nothing is going to change that. Okay?” 

Harry nodded, and, biting his lip, turned his gaze to Draco and Astoria. After a moment, Ginny did too. 

Draco was crying. 

“Come on, let's give them some space,” she said, pushing herself off the table. Harry followed her out of the room. 

***

“Draco…”

No reply came. Harry looked at him, but Draco's gaze was fixed somewhere outside the car window. 

They'd spent countless hours inside that car, in that very watch post. Hours chatting, and bickering, and taking turns to sleep while the other watched the house for any signs of activity. 

It had never been awkward before now. 

“Look, we need to talk,” Harry said. Draco huffed, unamused. “We need to talk because we both know our wives are not the only ones who’d noticed something wasn’t right before yesterday’s conversation. They were just the only ones brave enough to be upfront about it.” 

In the moment it took Draco to turn around, Harry thought of Draco's head on his shoulder; of the way it had felt when Draco had fallen asleep there, of the way he'd been so careful not to let it fall so Draco wouldn't wake up. He thought of the way their arms brushed whenever they walked, wands in hand, toward a dangerous location. Thought of the very reason they'd been so adamant that their wives should come with them on this mission: a truth they'd refused to confront, and that had gone and slapped them in the face anyway. 

“Do you understand how terrifying this is for me?” Draco finally said, body turned to Harry, but gaze fixed on his knees. “To know that my life as I know it, as I always expected it to be, is over? Do you think”—he looked up at Harry, and Merlin, he looked so scared Harry had to hold back from reaching out to him—“that I haven't noticed that I'm in love with Harry Potter, and not with the woman I'm about to have a baby with?” 

Harry held his breath. Searched in Malfoy's eyes, desperately, for any hint that he was about to take back his words. Then, almost out of breath:

“I'm in love with you too.”

Draco let out a desperate laugh. 

“I know that, you bloody idiot,” he choked out. “Fuck, I know.”

Harry bit his lip. Reached out, rested a hand over Draco's trembling, fisted own. 

For a few moments, neither spoke. 

“I'm sorry,” Harry murmured eventually. “I'm sorry things can't be different.” 

Draco started playing with Harry's fingers, and Harry closed his eyes—marvelled in how warm Draco's hands felt. How careful they were even as he fidgeted. 

“I'm glad they told us,” Draco said. “I want Astoria to be happy, and I know she'd never be completely happy with me.” A sigh. “I wouldn't, either. Not with her. I just… I need some time to come to terms with it.” 

Harry's fingers turned and turned between Draco's nervous own. 

“That's okay. I don't mind waiting for you.”

Their eyes met. 

“Okay,” Draco said. 

Harry squeezed his hand. Smiled. 

“Okay.”

***

The whoosh of the hearth letting someone through was quickly followed by two high-pitched squeals. By two very excited cries of, “Daddy!” 

Harry smiled to himself when he heard Draco's laughter coming from the living room as he—presumably—was tackled to the floor by Albus and Scorpius. 

“Boooys,” Harry called after a moment. “Come grab some cookies from the kitchen!” 

A few seconds later, the two five-year-old tornadoes were rushing toward the tray, barely sparing Harry a glance. Harry shook his head, grinning. 

“Where's my hug?” 

“Daddy!” Albus, face already full of crumbs, ran toward Harry's arms. “Your cookies are the best!” 

“Mmh!” Scorpius agreed. 

“I'm glad you like them.” Harry ruffled Al's hair. “Do save some for later, though!” 

Draco walked in, grabbed a cookie. “How are your mums?” he asked while he gave Harry a sonorous kiss on the cheek, the crumbs on Draco’s mouth scratching against his stubble. 

Harry was about to complain when Albus stretched his arms out, asking to be picked up. 

“They have a date today,” he—quite loudly—whispered in Harry's ear. 

“Do they, now!” 

“A date in a restawant with candles and a lot of different forks,” Albus explained. “And—and they were wearing really pretty dresses!” 

“Really? What colour?” Draco asked, picking Scorpius up too. 

“Mum's was red,” Scorpius said. “And mummy's was, uh, it was really pretty, and—” 

“And sparkly!” Albus squealed. “Black and sparkly!” 

“Wow! I don’t think Draco and I own anything so pretty!” Harry turned to Draco. “What do you think?” 

“Hmmm…” Draco dragged the sound out, sharing a mischievous look with Scorpius. “I’m not sure… I think we might have some sparkly garments hidden in the back of our wardrobe, but I’m sure Al and Scorp won’t be interested in—”

“We want to see!” Scorpius screamed, wiggling in his father’s arms. 

“We want to see, we want to see!” Albus chanted.

Harry and Draco shared a smile. 

“Very well, then,” Draco said solemnly, setting Scorpius down. “Let’s see which of you can find the prettiest clothes in our bedroom for us to wear today.” 

The kids darted upstairs, and, before following them, Harry took Draco’s hand in his and kissed his husband’s cheek in return.