#thought for the longest time that i was pretending so i could be cooler than a straight girl

[strayedocean]

happy pride i think i am actually A lesbian

[c-cw-f-saeko]

tell me your name (tesso and seonhee headcanons 2/3)

they moved out of the way so i could take a picture of mt. fuji -> loose recreation of this image 

hi !! i thought i’d finish this tesso and seonhee (separate and together) headcanon masterpost. it covers their individual backstory, how they met and how their relationship grew.

btw i made another headcanon masterpost about the liumang here 🤩 it wouldn't be a bad idea to read it before this one !

i warn that this is the ultimate yapping session LOL so it's long and very image heavy OOPS! there are more than 30 images, i wanted to add more but will stop there for now. check the bottom of the post for some straightforward headcanons (and a TLDR).

also, please pretend the entire timeline makes sense.....i won't beat myself over ageless characters not fitting 100% with documented events 😭 (imo seonhee is 34 and tesso is 37 currently) nvm my guess for seonhee but tesso is surely 37

also, the two fics i wrote heavily tie to this (don't mind the last one). i won't say you need to read them to understand, but i recommend reading them (BC I COOKED!) it'll be linked when needed.

- wang tielin

not completely accurate because he shouldn't have his scars but i'm too lazy to re-do the texture from scratch... sorry tielin 💔

birth name is wang tielin

born in japan. lived in the countryside with his uncle for the longest he could remember.

vowed to his childhood friend to live on the straight and narrow no matter what (hahaha)

a promise to keep was to become rich and share with their family when they grow up.

went to school just because, but had no plans nor dreams in particular. never stirred trouble.

was always kinda bland, but made an effort to become and dress "cooler" after coming to kamurocho (look at the fit please 😭 it was definitely a phase). this is part of the stuff tesso left behind (including his real name). would've preferred no one he knows today met him during that time.

zhao tried time and time again to make tesso show him pictures of him when he was younger but tesso claims to have none. zhao even got seonhee on the task and was ready to put down a good chunk of cash to make it happen. unfortunately for him, tesso was a nobody that truly came out of nowhere according to the geomijul (seonhee just lied 🤩 sorry tianyou).

-> long before the liumang

he came from some city in the country side where nothing really happens. his aunt and uncle took care of him and sent went to school. he was expected to take on his uncle’s restaurant since he was helping out from time to time and that’s what his uncle wanted anyway. 

how can i put it… as long he found a way to feed himself and have a roof over his head, he didn’t have a goal to attain (like a goal career or whatever). he had no aspirations as in “i guess i’ll live” 😍 

though, he had a close friend called liwei. they spent most of their time at school and outside together doing whatever. unlike tesso, liwei had big dreams of finally making it out go the “boring” countryside and establishing himself in a big city, becoming the wealthiest person of his family to provide for his parents. he had a passion about going to especially kamurocho because it was the complete opposite of their current lives. tesso's response to liwei was mostly -> “i support you!” he kinda admired liwei for having determined ambition. 

-> a bit before the liumang 

though, liwei ended up getting killed because a hit was ordered by a bunch of strangers on seemingly the wrong person. not a lot of clues were left behind, but tesso was adamant about it being a mistake since the two of them always swore on being on the straight and narrow (ironically).

so, tesso decided to leave his hometown in the countryside to find out what happened, who killed liwei and how the mix-up happened in the first place.

it lead him to many big cities (like kamurocho) though he navigated a bit clumsily with his words (talking a bit too carelessly about “i’m looking for such such that killed such and such, not knowing the type of place he was getting into), tesso ends up getting jumped by the local chinese mafia at least twice 😭 the clues he finds leads him into yokohama and bro gets jumped again 😭

all to figure out the true culprit was guys from yokohama's chinatown and going up front to them was the worst idea ever. instead, he joins the liumang (at first for refuge as outsider chinese people were vulnerable to trouble between seiryu/liumang and liumang/chinatown). then, in hopes of giving another meaning to his life and eventually seek justice for liwei’s murder.

-> in the liumang 

won't go too much in detail here, but tesso ends up being recruited personally by zhao as a liumang officer through a fight - given the exploit of him being able to scratch his jacket with his claws (and zhao scratched his face across his nose and cheeks with his sabre 😍)

- sakura, the number one hostess

long ago in kamurocho, seonhee used to be an hostess called sakura. remnants of the jingweon mafia rejected by mainland and local koreans (that later formed the geomijul) survived  the best they could with low-level information dealing. they used cabaret clubs to get info out of the local population. 

moving left and right with her mother, it was lucrative enough for her to be able to fend for the two of them — even if it was temporary, she would be doing it until they’d be able to find some sort of stability. 

eventually, the cabaret club was disbanded due to more prominent gangs taking over kamurocho, basically forcing the geomijul out of the city (to later end up yokohama).

in the move, the geomijul was very unstable; most members falling into despair as they were forced out of of home one more time.

seonhee was one of the few people to step up to rally the remaining people together. if they were wavering in the faith of surviving their predicament, the geomijul wouldn't even survive. she did everything she could to make sure fellow members wouldn't walk astray and find them a new home.

being one of people that proposed lodging the geomijul between the seiryu clan and the liumang and reprise their information dealing activities. it was through her sheer determination and in the success of securing the geomijul in yokohama that seonhee was made leader (despite being that young and a woman) jumping over all the oldheads.

fun fact, after leaving the cabaret club, she vowed to herself to never do that type of work ever again.

- meeting for the first time in kamurocho

bro came dressed like that to the luxury club 😭 first timer spotted!! fresh meat here!!!!!!

one promise he made to himself was to realize one of liwei’s dreams, no matter how futile it was. so, he gathered most of his money and decided to light it up for one night in kamurocho in his honour. he ended up going to the first cabaret club he laid eyes on - the one owned by the geomijul.

given the way he was dressed (lol) and the fact he had never been in the city before, seonhee (the number one hostess at the time) was tasked of  tending his table. she usually handled the most "suspicious" customers. 

that's what she thought at first, but past their initial talk, she really did find out he was just young random dude trying out the cabaret clubs for the first time. 

“is it your first time here?” “yeah, there isn’t stuff like this where i live” and so on. funny enough, he turned the conversation back on her a lot so she could ramble about the city and the type of work she did (life in the countryside is boring and uneventful anyway). it caused her to indirectly talk about the geomijul — tesso couldn’t know, her words still applied to the cabaret club dynamic. “the streets are competitive so we are working hard to stay on top!” and how teamwork was the most important thing at the end of the day, etc.

they had a good time talking and tesso was glad to find out city girls were so friendly. he had the impression that he’d be eaten alive, but he was doing ok so far. 

he touched briefly on the real reason he visited kamurocho (thought to himself it would defeat the purpose to not mention it). though, seonhee was smart to not make him linger on the subject by proposing to toast in his honor. tesso agreed, he was there to celebrate and she had made the right call. 

[sorry for the lack of continuity here but i can't being myself to write more atm. will evetually expand that part into a fic.]

- meeting for the second time in yokohama

tesso was always one of the officers zhao relied on the most. for example, he was leading the men sent by zhao after nanba through the city.

so, after mabuchi's overturned coup-d'etat and seonhee taking over the liumang, zhao named tesso as the most reliable man under him and could definitely provide great support in mending the geomijul and liumang together - zhao assured seonhee she could rely on tesso to bridge the two factions.

seonhee was quick to recognize tesso right away, thinking hard about where she had seen such a familiar face before - and the options were very little. it didn't take long for her to realize that it was the same guy she met at the cabaret club years ago. she thought about playing it cool and pretending they never met before, "he probably forgot anyway" and it's not like she looks exactly the same as she did. but she couldn't really shake off the possibility of him remembering. still, she plays it off in front of zhao

for as long as tesso remembers, the geomijul was a very secretive organization and most liumang didn't even know who the boss was and what they looked like. so he rolled with the assumption of having never met them before. so, of course, when he officially met seonhee for the first time, he didn't recognize her. at least at first 😭

- the underworld post mabuchi

because of fusion of the underworld, there was a lot of re-structuring to (such as combining certain cashflows, identifying businesses to assign new leaders to look after them, etc.) it was challenging especially after mabuchi basically left the liumang in shambles and with a lot of defecting members.

tesso helped out sorting out the mess with seonhee personally; it was easier to go through everything with someone that new the ordeal from top to bottom (thanks to zhao). the little time they had was dedicated to fixing the whole organization. at that time, seonhee relegated a lot of leading responsibilities to joongi while tesso did the same with his subordinates.

that's all it was; hours in a corner of the geomijul (usually in the middle of the night) sorting through hundred of files.

at first, it was awkward. tesso had never seen who led the geomijul before and the reality was very far from this expectations. starting at the fact he didn't even thought the geomijul had a woman at its head because of the rumours running the liumang. a detail zhao never bothered bringing up before they met.

zhao's funky and malleable nature was replaced by something more rigid, stern at times but always stood on business. it was different, but tesso went along with it. her style was definitely gonna bring the liumang and geomijul back on its feet.

still, he spoke to her with the same clumsiness as he did with zhao. distant in his words, just like a subordinate should be to its leader. she didn't mind, especially when she did most of the talking anyway.

that's how their routine was at the start: meet, sort documents, leave — there wasn't anything else more to it.

but, something didn't feel quite right.

the more he heard her talk, the more he was sure to have met her before. the words she used, her tone... it felt so familiar. and he had plenty of time to think about it. there was no doubt, she definitely was that girl from the cabaret club...

he kept it to himself and vowed to pretend he's mistaken. the last thing he could do was to bring it up first and be wrong. he would continue to behave the same as he ever did. given their circumstances, he could assume she had left her old life behind as well.

though, irony seeped from his pores, it was stronger than him. the coincidence was a bit humorous; the two of them meeting again with different names and under these unlikely circumstances. he kept his stun under wraps - or at least tried to.

from lingering gazes when she wasn't looking to the way she held herself, tesso recalled the selfless woman he met long ago in kamurocho. despite the heavy facade she always wore, she played it off well, how, in the midst of her words, always passed others before herself.

even with her bolder style, and it's not like she changed much: she was still as beautiful as ever and had that unwavering aura fit of a born leader.

perhaps, he had made his realization too obvious.

ever since zhao presented tesso to seonhee, she knew they had met before. thus, sat quietly with the intent of pretending she was someone else. however, tesso's demeanour changed out of the blue. he seemed a bit more awkward and careful in his words.

though, seonhee resigned on pretending. "tesso? is that how you call yourself these days?" shortly followed with his real name. she asks, chuckling a bit. perhaps, he could've picked something more subtle. he did abandon his birth name for this alias he wasn't really sure whom give it to him. but it doesn't really matter. it just meant was a completely different man now.

it was a bit ironic; they are able to have to shy laugh about it, the ice is starting to melt between them.

- the bridge between the geomijul and yokohama liumang

overall, the union between the geomijul and liumang was welcome by its members. given the situation they both were in - one left without a leader and the other very vulnerable to outside threats. it was worth leaving residual animosity behind and cooperate for the sake of keeping yokohama safe.

so, antagonists to seonhee taking over after zhao were far and between - mainly geomijul oldheads (like seo hancheol 😍 rip bozo) and the few remaining mabuchi enjoyers (like zheng because yes in this timeline bro didn’t get banished out of yokohama).

so, not only did tesso assist seonhee in the merge of the two groups, but he kinda became for the liumang what joongi is for the geomijul: the first commander under the leader and first rep for the liumang. so, in case of trouble or any reference needed from geomijul members, they could ask him if needed. tesso is known to get along with younger folks (canon) so it helps a lot!

overall, the underworld is structured like this:

- factions subordinates (tesso and the geomijul)

yeona calls tesso liumang oppa 😭 she's the one that got tesso to read manga

i feel like yeona would get along well with these two LOL she can get info on joongi from tesso since they work on another level (joongi hides his cringy side from his subordinates). also, she tends to tease seonhee a bit about not being single anymore 😭 in a little sister-big sister type of way. bc like it's not like they ever announced anything, but yeona just picks up on vibes like that 😭 there's banter between seonhee and her, but it's in good faith!! there are so little women in the geomijul, so yeona made sure to stick with

"seonhee unnie, that's your boyfriend isn't it?" she didn't say that, but her eyes kinda did 😭 yeona always knows when something is up about her big sister. this whole exchange happened while tesso was reading his notes LOL 😭

well kinda... because now that seonhee is taken, han-sama (joongi) can stop worrying about seonhee's relationship status.

- advisor to advisor (tesso and joongi)

"Tha- That's not possible! She couldn't have a boyfriend! Some random man from who-knows-where!?" (direct canon quote istg 😭)

"some random man from who-knows-where" that's literally what tesso was to joongi for awhile. 

of course, he knew tesso was one of the closest subordinates of zhao. but he wanted to dig out his history as much as he could before even asking zhao about it. surprise came when he didn’t find much out of the geomijul surveillance system — there was no way to know for sure how nor when he got in the city. however, joongi was adamant about not asking seonhee about it just yet. 

sure, tesso and seonhee never announced they were together (for a very long time). but joongi picked up the smallest changes of seonhee's demeanour and her mannerisms. she tried her best to conceal it, but nothing went past his eye. and it was very clear to him... seonhee was indeed dating that random man.

at first, it was veiled concern but joongi believed seonhee could do better. he thought seonhee could aim for someone more or at least just as good looking than him (im sorry LOL but exhibit A) and someone as refined as her and not so… contradictory in looks and personality (tesso looks rough with a lot of distinctive features but is rather simple). so, first impression wise, it was off to a rocky start. 

despite being the two most important members of the geomijul and liumang, joongi and tesso didn’t really get along. tesso thought joongi was arrogant and preferred dealing with his subordinates instead (like yeona with whom he was able to work well with). 

“don’t mind han-sama. he’ll get over it eventually…” tesso still has no clue what she means by that

the impression of tesso and joongi not getting along wasn't setting a good example for the fellow geomijul and liumang members. while tesso was unsure about the whole thing, joongi struggled moving on for a bit. even seonhee wasn't sure of what was going on between the two.

it took yeona telling on joongi's business back to seonhee for her to set the record straight. no one knows for sure what she has said, but their short discussion was followed by a shy apology from joongi, blaming the geomijul's eternal lack of trust of others for his behaviour and vowed to be as reliable as ever. actually, that was a move from seonhee where she wouldn't let a reason so petty cloud joongi and tesso's relationship further. it was better if tesso didn't know (lol).......

in joongi's opinion, there was too many red flags or dubious points about tesso and couldn’t figure out where nor when they even met (as seonhee never mentioned him before). so, everything came to him as a surprise. 

deep down, the hurt joongi felt was because seonhee didn’t tell him about it first when they shared pretty much everything. he took it as a sign of being unworthy of her trust. understanding it didn’t come from malice, joongi slowly opened up to tesso - it was iffy at first, there was still moments when he was a bit rude despite him. it took time, but joongi trusted seonhee in her decision and agreed that tesso wasn’t so bad after all (“albeit a bit goofy and doesn’t have a presentation as neat as I do”). all that mattered at the end of the day was seonhee’s wellbeing and she seems happy. bro got over himself…

- relationship ladder

(i'm not gonna extend myself too much on this but) the particular thing about them is how the closer they got, the place to work on business changed as well.

this is the fish shop next to eomoni's vow 😭

it started at the corner of the geomijul but surely became eomoni's vow (which is just my first fic LOL) - right at the time when the city was as calm as ever and the liumang and geomijul were combined together. members were more comfortable walking the streets so the need to remain miles of tunnels under the surface wasn't as needed.

still, they usually met in the middle of the night to work on stuff, but just end up eating and drinking the hours away. they got in the habit of playing mahjong against each-other singing karaoke on rare occasion (amongst other things).

next location is qing jin.

omg bro with the three piece suit 😭

it's upgrade from eomoni's vow since the top floor has a dress code 😍 you have to be put together to get in there so dresses and dress shirts are a must.

tesso debated for awhile before inviting her. it was a bit of a bold move, but he knew qing jin would be more of her taste (more spacious, luxurious and an entire different palate) AND it was still very private.

tesso actually picked the artwork (see the tomato picture below) and the room divider is from lin lin

they went a few times, and that was then tesso told seonhee about zhao's apartment complex and eventually advanced the idea to share a spot there. won't go over the details again LOL but you get the idea 🤩

knowing she'd be coming, tesso leaves her sweets 🥹 he's usually more busy on foot (you know assassination quests 🤩), but will drop by before she does if he has other stuff to do for the day.

seonhee definitely spends more time there since she doesn't have to be out carrying missions out on the streets and enjoys the privacy. it's seemingly normal when compared to the gloominess of the geomijul and restaurant row.

- trip to kyoto

this is basically the fic i wrote last year - tesso and seonhee go on a trip to kyoto. (PLEASE READ IT I COOKED!!! 😭) the fic in a nutshell:

i am kidding of course

despite being a higher ranked officer with more responsibilities, he’s always stuck at the “uhhhh taking some time off like that kinda feels unfair” but was bullied convinced by zhao to take some anyway. yokohama had been peaceful for awhile now and his subordinates could run well without him around for a few days.

so take the bullet train to osaka only to come back three days and four nights later. notably, they visit the nonomiya shrine (the shrine of love woooooooohooooo, no it is actually!), tesso dedicates her a poem and they stay in a machiya.

funny enough, i managed to make 3d models pretty close to the original drawings (iykyk) so it's fun!

pretty!!!!!!!!! 😭

- miscellaneous

funny thing they do -> rock paper scissors and they talk to each-other the native tongue of whoever wins for a day. seonhee tends to win often; she's just built like that.

during yua's first year at seiryo, tesso and seonhee attended the parent-student meeting together in place of her uncle (yua's legal guardian at the time). to meet sawa-sensei (yes she lived).

negative trait

tesso : can be too passive | seonhee : lacks humility

positive trait 

tesso: dependable | seonhee: diligent 

strength against the other

tesso: resistant to dominatrix energy | seonhee: resistant to tianyou

their weakness coming from the other

tesso: her cute mannerisms | seonhee: him calling her a specific petname (b......ba......omg i can't [dies of cringe])

serious complaint about the other

tesso: sacrificing health for the sake of fashion | seonhee: sleeps too little

unserious complaint about the other 

tesso: lacks stamina | seonhee: grandpa mannerisms at 37

random quirk

tesso: can fall asleep anywhere | seonhee: rarely laughs from her the pit of her stomach

karaoke? 

seonhee: enjoys anything from koda kumi | tesso: either tone deaf or decent, nobody knows… won’t do anything more than adlibs

hobby they got because of the other

tesso: skincare | seonhee: gardening

seonhee enjoys growing tomatoes, amongst other things. on his part, tesso grows nappa cabbages somewhere on a rooftop in restaurant row (mostly for kimchi ofc).

hobby they don’t share

tesso: shopping | seonhee: running

hobby they tried together for the first time

dancing (thank you yagami)

seonhee is pissed bc yagami made them do something really hard as a tryout. it's not easy, but it's simple at least so they managed!

thing they do when sick

tesso: eats lemons like oranges | seonhee: drinks tea with every single aromatic she can find (ginger, turmeric, cinnamon, peppercorns, etc.)

last thing they fought about

seonhee being frustrated at tesso’s reluctance to take over the liumang, leading her to talk ill of zhao’s ways of leadership. though, seonhee is too proud to apologize first and they didn’t talk to each other for two weeks. even zhao and saeko picked up on the fact they were kinda avoiding each other. 

one thing they struggled with

(especially tesso at the start) treat each-other on equal footing. he was kinda confused at how to behave, whether to be or to not be subservient, like.....

not that it was his second nature, but that's what he used to for the longest time. so, he didn't mind at all.

seonhee was a bit frustrated at the need to spell it out, but it was better that way. at least, everything was clear between them from that point on.

for zhao's costume party [i'll write about this later? maybe?]

(actually seonhee convinced tesso but) they did matching costumes of leon kennedy and ada wong from RE.

TL;DR: i think there are moments when seonhee shares more of herself to someone on equal footing, moments where she's more vulnerable and has room to step away from her idolized self.

i think there are moments when tesso has to put himself first, moments when he must learn to not overextend himself at his own expense.

despite the unlikely circumstances and complicated conditions, i think they would be able to do that together. tesso and seonhee are polar opposites on so many things and i think they can learn a lot from each-other.

i'll make another post with all different outfits they had soon because the volume of models i made 😭

next headcanon post is either going to be ichitesso on dondoko island or yua.....idk yet........

and yes in my book miku was on dondoko island LOL

and before you ask, yes i smoke crack! thank you for coming to my ted talk!

[wanderinginksplot]

Clone Trooper Rambles

Journaling meets imaginary friends meets clone troopers. Right now, these Rambles have another purpose: helping me get used to posting on a schedule again!

Warnings: clone trooper shenanigans.

---

“Okay, what are the rules?” Rex asked yet again as we drove toward the beach.

Everyone in the car groaned. It was almost impressive, really. There were troopers sitting everywhere they could possibly fit. That level of synchronicity was something to admire. 

"Stay within sight of the shoreline," Tup eventually volunteered. 

"Keep the shenanigans to a minimum," Fives added sadly. 

Kix leaned forward slightly. "Wear sunscreen and drink water." 

"Leave the ocean life alone," Fixer said. 

Hardcase said, "No burying people in the sand."

"Actually, Hardcase," Tech interrupted, "I believe they said we could not leave anyone buried in the sand."

Hardcase visibly brightened and Dogma made a frustrated noise. "Why would you-?"

Rex pinched the bridge of his nose. "And when I give the signal..?" 

"Come back to the car," everyone chorused together as I tried not to laugh aloud. 

With an aggrieved sigh, Rex said, "You can't tell me you'd be happy if you had to go back because someone wanted five more minutes of beach time." 

"They can hitchhike." 

Everyone snorted at that. I would be panicked and absolutely guilt-stricken if I forgot someone. Fortunately, I could use my struggle to find a parking spot as a reason to ignore all of them. At last, a couple in a large pickup truck backed out and I pulled smoothly into their spot, ignoring the line of cars that had formed behind me. 

“I’ll grab the umbrella,” Elena offered. “Cole, Travis, can you handle the cooler?” 

“Sure!” Travis agreed easily while Cole offered a skeptical look. Neither of them were the most muscular of people, but I was confident they would get it eventually. At least, faster than I would be able to with my lack of upper body strength. 

“I’ll grab the bag,” I volunteered. ‘The bag’ was a large beach tote that currently held sunscreen, an extra towel, a tool to help push the beach umbrella further into the sand, baby wipes, and anything else we had thought we would need. 

The whole group - only some of whom were visible to onlookers - moved slowly out. Wrecker bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t help carry things while Fives and Jesse muttered about a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest underwater. Rex pretended not to hear them. Tech was fascinated by the device we used to place the beach umbrella firmly in the sand and Hardcase gave a happy sigh as Travis reached into the cooler to grab a snack and something to drink. 

“Sunscreen,” Kix reminded me. I nodded and passed that along to my roommates - without mentioning the source, of course. Everyone good-naturedly agreed to put on another coat of sunscreen as we relaxed under the umbrella and watched the waves wash up onto the beach.

Elena and Cole were taking dramatic pictures of seagulls, Travis was messing with a boomerang he had bought and never managed to use properly, and I was half asleep when the peace was interrupted by a loud roar. 

I sat up in time to watch the first of many speed boats race by. “What on earth-?”

“Speedboat races,” Elena theorized. “I think there’s some kind of qualifier that happens around here. This must be it. Hopefully they’ll be finished before too long.” 

“They’re pretty far offshore,” Cole pointed out. “We should be able to get in the water as long as we don’t get too close.”

“New plan,” Jesse muttered to Fives. “First one to get in one of those boats wins.”

“Men,” Rex said sternly. 

I could hear the lecture building in his tone and stood, brushing sand from my legs. “Sounds like it’s time to get in, then!”

---

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Author's Note - Like I said, I'm trying to get back into a posting rhythm! My goal is to post something on this account every other week. So, again, if you don't currently follow the @wanderinginksplot-writes account, but you like to read my works, that is going to the best place to find them without waiting for me to reblog them to other accounts.

Thanks for reading!

[lilborealis]

Songs that I think fit characters, ships, oc’s etc (pt.1???)

(As you can tell, I’m very bored)

Iwaoi-Jenny by The Studio Killers

-this is pretty self explanatory if you know the lyrics. They have been best friends since childhood. When it says “why I never like your new boyfriends, oh, your love for them won’t last long”. I can definitely imagine Oikawa not understanding why Iwaizumi doesn’t like his new girlfriend. She’s incredibly nice, why wouldn’t anyone like her? Oikawa brushes it off as he just dismissed as Iwa being his grumpy-self, little does he know, his best friend has been in love with him for the longest time.

Philip Graves-Ick by Lay Bankz

-Graves slander till I DIE

The Frye Twins-3005 by Childish Gambino

-I’m pretty sure Childish Gambino actually did write this song about he and his sister! Anyway, I could definitely see this song from Jacob’s pov, as his twin seemed so much more “established” in life, while he is “falling behind”. Yet, he loves his sister and she’s the only family he’s got left. He doesn’t want her to leave for India but wants her to be happy.

Emily Denning (ac syndicate oc)-Hazy Miss Daisy by Kid Bloom

-for a bit of context, Emily was an assassin raised thief that became indebted to the Blighters. She originally was an antagonist towards the Frye twins before joining them (after they showed her evidence that could send her to prison) and picking up the blade again. Hazy Miss Daisy talks about Daisy, who is struggling with various emotions and learning that her actions truly have consequences. Emily is forced to deal how much damage her working for the blighters caused.

The Bad Batch-A L I E N S by Coldplay

-The Bad Batch themselves have been forced to run from the empire. You could argue that the clones feel like “Aliens”, out of place, as they’ve never really had a “set” identity. Their “home” isn’t necessarily a real place, it’s just peace that they can never really find, due to being “property” and born of the empire.

Kei Tsukishima-Alien Boy by Oliver Tree

One lyric I’d definitely like to emphasize is “I fell down to earth, from a hundred miles away, and somehow, I still make it work, but it’s overrated and somehow, played out”. Tsukishima was once a happy little kid until he “fell down to earth” when he realized his brother was a fraud. He still joins the volleyball team obviously but he believes it’s “overrated” and pretends not to care.

Shoyo Hinata-What Was I Made For? by Billie Eilish

I immediately thought of Hinata calling himself “the new tiny giant” as he pursues his own character in the series. After Karasuno looses against Kamomedai, against “the new tiny giant” he is despondent. It’s only when Takeda has his talk with him that Hinata truly has to question who he really wants to be.

Lionel Poussin x Georgette Chevrolet(Ac Unity Oc’s)-Cooler Than Me by Mike Posner

-to put it plainly, Lionel is a shameless flirt+reckless while Georgette is very uptight+cautious. Georgette is basically forced to babysit Lionel (who is a lower rank than she is) and he is definitely not mad about being paired with a pretty swordswoman. You can read more about them in my fic Cœr d’acier 👀 (pinned at the top of my page!)

Aya of Alexandria and Bayek of Siwa-Always Forever by Cults (I love them so much you have no idea)

-you absolutely know they still loved each other, even when they had to part. Even when they had to split up, you KNOW either would come running of the other was in trouble. “You know you’ve got me in your pocket, you don’t just have to wait around”. And Ubisoft if you see this give us a Bayek sequel rn

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House - Part 7.1

This one's a little short and a little subtle, but I thought I'd whet your appetite for more mayhem this week. Going for a weekly update schedule on Tuesdays for as long as I can keep it up!!

There is a small time jump here; it’s been a few days since the last chapter. 

Catch up: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Ivar has really nice knives. You’ve never seen him cook, not since you moved in and not before, but you know the set of expensive Messermeister knives in the grey canvas case belong to him. They are just a dream to use, better than anything that you could afford.

You know that the knives belong to him because he gave you very explicit instructions for their care. “No one else is allowed to touch them,” he told you during the first week after you moved in, running his fingers down the longest blade as he showed them to you, “but I will allow you that privilege if you follow all my rules.”

There’s a problem today. His breath hitches when he opens the case; your body stills. “Y/N, what is this?”

You inch forward, peering over his shoulder with apprehension. His fingernail is tapping at the wide blade of the chef’s knife.

“Did you dry these with a cloth, right after you cleaned them?”

There are a few translucent white circles marring the blade, the kind that are sometimes left behind after water evaporates.

“I—” your throat is suddenly dry. “I must not have.”

“Evidently not.” He turns the knife around, offering you the handle with a significant look. “Wash it again.”

He doesn’t seem angry, and the tingling in your body is not exactly anxiety. “Of course.” His eyes linger on yours, even after you look down to carefully take the exquisitely-crafted tool from his hand.

You turn to the sink, listening to Ivar gather his ingredients behind you. This morning he had surprised you with a long, very detailed shopping list for what is apparently his signature pasta sauce. Details as in brand names, and specifying the amounts down to the ounces. You have never seen the boy cook before, but today you’re learning why he would even own expensive knives.

I cook, he had said almost defensively as you teased him about the uncharacteristic request. But do you think that animals like my brothers deserve to enjoy my skills?

Your cheeks warm now as you contemplate that statement. It meant that he considers you to be worth cooking for tonight, doesn’t it? You rub soap on the knife carefully from the back edge and glance over at him.

Ivar is inspecting the fresh herbs you bought. You hold your breath, but he gives them a little nod and moves on to the onion and garlic. You dry the knife and bring it to him.

“Good girl.”

Even just those simple words have your body thrumming. He’s not a dick about it, he just likes things his certain way, and that submissive streak in your soul is just loving every opportunity for Ivar to keep telling you what to do.

He sets the knife down, then holds out his hand. “Give me that towel.”

He folds it twice and lays it on the table in front of him. He pulls a tool from the bag that looks like a round little sword. “Oh,” you say, “does it need to be sharpened?”

“This is not for sharpening,” Ivar says, his voice cool and still, like he’s preparing a ritual. “This is a honing steel.”

“Oh.”

“It’s a common mistake. But we don’t want to sharpen a knife too often. Sharpening removes some of the metal. This,” he says, setting the tip of the steel against the towel and holding the hilt up vertically with his left hand, “is for honing.” He lifts the knife in his right hand and sets it at a close angle against the steel. His fist grips the hilt of the steel firmly, while his fingers curl more loosely, elegantly around the handle of his knife. He draws it down the length of the steel in a firm, deliberate movement. “Honing merely aligns the sharp edge of the blade, so it doesn’t blunt itself by curling to one side.” The blade crosses to the other side, sliding down in another brisk line. He builds a rhythm, every movement deft, controlled, and faster than you would have felt safe moving that blade around. “There.” He admires the edge with a satisfied nod. “Bring me the teak cutting board, from the bottom of the pantry.”

You didn’t even know they had a “teak cutting board.” You and Ubbe have been using a scarred plastic one that looks ready to crack in half at any moment.

You find the board wrapped up in the back; when you pull it out you want to cry. The rich shades of amber and honey in the woodgrain are just gorgeous. “Why do you have such beautiful things?” you say softly as you set it down in front of him.

“I like beautiful things.” He catches your eye, and there’s no way he’s not including you in the sentiment.

You smile and look away, smoothing your hands down your skirt just to give yourself something to do. Your movement draws his gaze, and a thick, satisfied look suffuses his eyes as he admires your outfit. Inspired by your little domestic 1950’s housewife fantasy, you’d bought yourself a vintage dress, royal blue, complete with full, knee-length skirt, fitted waist, and sweetheart neckline. Now that that fantasy seems to be coming true, you couldn’t resist putting it on today, even if your only plans consisted of staying home and cooking with Ivar.

He drags the knife across the steel a few more times.

“How do you know it’s sharp enough?”

He flashes you a grin, the one with the sadistic edge that makes your knees a little weak. “There is one test,” he lifts the knife in his competent grip, “to see if it can shave an arm hair . . . hold still.”

His eye glitter as you take a step back from him, sucking your arms up tight against your ribcage. Even though the idea of Ivar holding cold steel against your body is making your heartbeat quicken, a little warmth gathering between your legs.

He cocks his head, don’t you trust me written all over his smirk. He savors your discomfort for a moment, before speaking again. “Or, we slice a piece of paper.” He takes a flyer off his stack of mail on the table, something unimportant with Act Now! in big block letters at the bottom. Grasping it at the top between two fingers, he lifts the knife and slashes down quickly through the vertically-suspended page.

It slices neatly in two, the outer edge fluttering down to the floor in front of him. “Wow, that is sharp.” You wanted to say something infinitely cooler, but how exactly do you tell someone “your knife skills are turning me on right now?”

Ivar frowns at the lower portion of the 9-inch blade. “I felt a catch toward the bottom.” He turns back to the honing steel and rasps a few more precise passes.

He may be pretending this is still a normal conversation about sharpening, but there’s a darkness in his eyes when he looks up at you again. He tips his head dramatically to the side, looking you up and down until your cheeks start to heat up.

“Seeing something that you like?”

You stammer out two answers at once, so the sounds you actually make are non-sensical.

“Do not forget that I can tell when you are turned on.”

You finally notice your mouth hanging open, and you close it.

He inspects the blade’s edge with an unnecessary flourish. “You into knives?” he asks casually. His predator’s eyes watch carefully from under heavy brows as you flail about for an answer.

“Mmm,” you say, completely uninformatively. “Um, you mean like, sexually?”

Ivar nods slowly, as confident as you are flustered.

“There is something—something about it,” you babble, trying to push through your embarrassment well enough to be honest, “but not like… I’m not saying I want to get cut up right now.”

Ivar’s mouth makes a soothing sort of sound, his gorgeous lips puckering up. “Of course not. But there’s something about—” he hefts the knife in his hand, “—the threat inherent in a dangerous object, isn’t there. Even though I’m not even threatening you with it right now.”

You gulp. “Yes.”

His head is waggling, eyes narrowed over his smile. “Come here.”

It’s simultaneously the best and worst thing he could possibly say to you right now. You want to trust him, but you really have no idea what Ivar Lothbrok will do to you if you come within arm’s reach of him. You make a small sound.

He makes a beckoning gesture.

The heavy knife is resting against the cutting board; when you step toward him Ivar leaves it there and opens his arm to pull you in close. With a hand on your waist he guides you to face the cutting board, your back against his front. The stool he’s sitting on is tall enough that he can still see from behind you, and his arms up come up around either side of your body.

“One more test. I want you to feel this one.” His voice is rich and low, so close to your ear. “Did you know that if the knife is sharp enough, cutting an onion won’t make you cry?”

“No,” You say brightly, through a burst of exhaled air. You’re relieved, although maybe just a little bit disappointed, that the topic of conversation is back to cooking, and not secret dark kinks that you might not even be ready to admit to yourself. Ivar’s body brushes softly against yours as he places an onion at the center of the cutting board and sets the knife against it.

“Here,” he says, wiggling his right hand just a bit. “Take the knife from me. Keep it lined up, but do not cut yet.”

You do as he asks, and his hand ghosts over yours, covering your grip on the handle.

“You barely have to push down. Slide it forward slightly, and the blade should sink right in.”

His guiding hand follows as you do, and the onion comes apart easily.

“Good. Keep going. We want this one finely diced.” He keeps your body pushed forward with the pressure of his from behind. Is he making sure your face is right above the onion, ready to take in all the fumes that usually blind you with tears after the first few slices?

You get the skin off and keep slicing, as instructed. The little approving noises Ivar is making into your ear must mean that your method is correct, so far. And, miraculously, your vision is still clear.

“A dull blade crushes the onion cells, releasing the chemical that makes you cry. A sharp one slices through so cleanly that this barely happens. Are you feeling anything yet?”

“No,” you say. Not from the onion, at least. The way Ivar’s body is wrapped around yours, his breath warm on your neck, has you feeling all kinds of things.

Ivar coos. “Then I’ve done well. And so are you. Even finer, please.”

You pinch the back of the blade between your fingers and chop quickly. Ivar has released your hands, placing his own about your waist instead. When you finish, you set the knife down and he coaxes you to turn around.

He inspects your face. Your eyes had started stinging just a little during that final pass, but no tears have formed. His tongue clucks, softly. “Honestly I’m a little disappointed not to get to see you crying. I think we’ll remedy that later.”

You just about quiver in his arms.

You were supposed to be his sous chef today. I mean, that would only be appropriate given the roles that you two like to assume with each other in every other context. And it is Ivar’s recipe, after all. But once he knows what watching him use a knife does to you, he performs all the rest of the dicing and chopping himself. You’re relegated to walking back and forth across the small kitchen, fetching and washing and lining up the neat little prep bowls as Ivar fills them with each of his ingredients.

He watches you all the while, in between bouts of extreme concentration on his work. He says nothing about your dress but you catch him admiring its twirl as you spin through the kitchen.

Watching him chop the garlic is almost unreal. Ivar’s not one for that garlic press contraption, and clearly he doesn’t need it. He takes a second knife from his collection, one that’s flatter and a little more squared. His slices are just about paper-thin, and he’s minced them and scooped the little pile up on the side of his blade so fast you just have to stop and stare as he does it again for each clove. His hands are large but elegant, their subtle strength readily apparent as he handles the blade with impressive agility.

“Why did you switch knives?”

He tilts the tool in question in his hand. “This is called a santoku. Japanese knives are great for speed, and the fancier skills. But for most tasks I prefer the weight of the chef’s knife. These German-made ones feel so good in the hand.”

“They really do,” you agree. “How did you get so into cooking?”

“Just a hobby I picked up for a while.” His eyes meet yours. “I am enjoying having the excuse to remember my skills again.”

You almost can’t bear to keep looking at his face, his angelic visage just beaming his delight at you. For the second time you flush, and duck your head. You’re definitely not used to Ivar being so . . . direct about his feelings for you.

He saves you from having to respond by issuing his next order. “We are ready to start cooking. Measure a tablespoon of olive oil into the pan, turn the burner on high, and help me get my stool next to the stove.”

He puts the garlic in first, stirring it briskly to, as he explains, suffuse the oil in its flavor. Next come the onions, and there is something about the way his wrist cocks as he keeps everything moving in the pan that’s almost as fascinating as his knife work. His rhythm remains steady as he directs you to add each ingredient, his other hand lightly teasing at your waist, or your hip, or your leg at the bottom edge of your skirt every time you move close to him. He pretends he’s not doing it, but there is mischief behind his eyes. By the time a thick red sauce is filling the wide pan, you’re about ready to skip this dinner and see what other treats he’s got planned for your night in.

The apartment door swings open. Ubbe enters noisily, slamming the door shut behind him. “Smells so good, Y/N! I’m starving, what are you—” He cuts off when he rounds the corner into the kitchen, and sees Ivar sitting by the stove. He takes in the luxury kitchen tools spread out on the table, and you in your housewife dress and your kitten heels. He pulls back just a little, like maybe he’s thinking he shouldn’t intrude. But then he leans one forearm against the wall and grins. “You’re making the sauce, bro?”

Ivar rolls his eyes. “Yes, Ubbe.”

“I can’t fucking wait.” He turns to you, his wolfish eyes bright. “This is gonna be the best spaghetti night you’ve had in your life.”

“It is not spaghetti night,” Ivar says crossly. “We are having gnocchi. Also, I didn’t think you were going to be home.”

Ubbe shrugs. “I don’t have anything going on.”

“Ubbe,” Ivar chides, shaking his head as he speaks. “Don’t you usually have a date lined up just about every night?”

Ubbe is only looking at you. “That just doesn’t seem very interesting anymore.”

Ivar makes a dismissive sound and nudges you. “Time to add in the spices, Y/N.”

You tear your eyes away from Ubbe, and all the things that you might just be imagining are lying behind his eyes. He walks away as you lift the last prep bowl, headed back toward his room. You sprinkle the herb blend over the sauce.

“Now we simmer,” Ivar says, turning the burner down low. “But we must keep stirring.” He slides the spoon quite precisely around the edges of the pan, then spirals it through the middle. “Can you do it this way?”

You take the handle from him and attempt to replicate his practiced movement. After a little adjusting, he leans back with a satisfied sound.

“Keep that up. No more than sixty seconds between stirrings.”

He reaches for his crutches, and you lift a brow in silent question.

“I want a shower before dinner.” He gets to his feet, then leans down to murmur low into your ear. “I am planning a long night after that.”

How can he slay you so well with only a few words?

The corner of his lip is quirked as he shifts his weight back into his crutches. “After ten minutes, start the water boiling for the gnocchi, too.”

Read On

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[officerjennie]

A Hopeful Hesitance

CW: None

Rating: T

Summary: Jaskier isn't sure a picnic date with Valdo is the best idea, nor is he sure if he should trust the hope blossoming in his chest - but he wants to believe that, just maybe, this could work.

Thanks once again to @jaskierswolf for looking this over for me

Jaskier still hesitated. Every step of the way, he hesitated, from when he slipped into his cute new sandals to the moment he stepped out of his car with the bottle of wine Valdo had requested he bring. His big blue sunglasses tinted the world a cooler shade but they did nothing for the sweltering heat that wasn’t even on the forecast for that afternoon - no surprise there, really; weatherman were the best and worst of liars - and Jaskier already found himself sweating as he made his way out of the parking lot and towards the park.

It had been a while since he’d been here. A quaint little place, with a nice sized pond that currently had a bunch of ducks and geese floating around in it. Jaskier thought the ducks were cute but steered clear of the geese that had waddled up onto the grass, keeping a massive distance as one eyed him like he was the perfect beating bag for its wings.

Some people called him stupid, which he took exception to despite the occasional questionable decision he made. But Jaskier was far from suicidal. He’d leave it to Lambert to fuck with the geese.

As far as he remembered, they were supposed to meet on the far side of the pond. According to Valdo it would be cooler there - Jaskier had his doubts - and since most people would be there with their kids they’d be at either one of the big gazebos filled with picnic tables or they’d be nearer to the playground and the basketball court that was right next to the park.

Jaskier had his doubts about that as well. He made a face at the pavement as he followed the walking path towards the other side of the park, wondering not for the first time if this was really such a good idea.

They’d been at odds with each other for so long. At each other’s throats during the worst of it. Could they really be anything...more?

He was a romantic but there were some dreams even he was afraid to dream.

Sunlight reflected blindingly off the surface of the pond, Jaskier having to shield his eyes with one hand even despite his sunglasses. He was sweating and he hated it. Even the light shawl he wore over his tank top was almost too much though he would be loath to take it off. Without it he’d be so devoid of color and sometimes fashion was worth the pain.

At least he reached the trees soon enough. The path wove into a nice little cove of maples and pines and shielded him much better than his hand could do, the temperature dropping immediately to something Jaskier could at least stand to be in. It had always been more the sun itself than heat that had bothered him, anyway.

He wasn’t the first to arrive, surprisingly. Jaskier caught sight of a familiar derriere and slowed down, taking a moment to smirk and admire it from afar. His rival turned friend turned...whatever they were now, whatever they would be, was bent over, shaking out a blanket as he tried to straighten it on the ground.

A blanket, right. Jaskier blinked, his smirk fading - Valdo had brought a blanket for them. It was a cute one, too, from what he could see. Red swirling patterns, not some plain, boring old shitty thing he’d expected Valdo to bring. If he’d expected him to bring one at all. The hesitation came back but it was mostly born of not wanting to hope, of being afraid to give that spark any kindling, but Jaskier squashed the hesitation for the moment as he’d done so many times already that day.

One chance wouldn’t kill him. A little bit of hope wouldn’t crush him. And some free food would make just about anything worthwhile.

“Careful, I might take that as an invitation,” Jaskier teased out as he got closer, practically smelling the scowl that immediately scrunched up Valdo’s face at the tease. But Valdo ignored him long enough to straighten out his blanket, straightening up and pushing his bangs out of his face, and he most certainly sent Jaskier one pinched scowl.

It wasn’t one of his really heated ones, though. Over the years Jaskier had learned to read his expressions better than he knew any others, able to tell whenever his jabs hit home, when his teasing was taken lightly or to heart. He knew him better than any lover he’d ever taken in the past, and yet…

And yet they had never been that to each other.

Would they really work like that?

“Good, you brought the wine.” Valdo waved his hand towards the basket he’d brought himself-

-and wasn’t that yet another thing that had Jaskier pausing, blinking, because he’d brought a basket. Valdo was not the type to own a picnic basket, he was sure of it, so did he...buy one? Just for this occasion? Just for a small, little date between former rivals?

“I can remember to bring one item, Valdo.” The retort wasn’t as barbed as it should have been, nor was it all that good. Jaskier breezed past him to settle down on the blanket, hoping to act like he wasn’t all that concerned with their banter - but his heart was fluttering away in his chest, a traitorous rhythm.

“We all know how your memory can get, Julian.”

“And we all know how you never know what on earth to wear- are you wearing long pants in this weather?” Jaskier stared incredulously at the other man as he settled down onto the blanket near him. Very near him. He tried to focus on anything but his hands, those long finger and beautiful wrists, as Valdo brought the basket near and started raffling through the items he’d brought with him. It was an assortment of cheese, crackers, preserves, some salami, and other finger foods.

Things Valdo could have gotten in a single prepackaged deli tray, that he’d instead picked out by himself. An assortment, so many different choices, as if Valdo had looked at all the store had and decided he couldn’t decide at all.

Jaskier’s heart fluttered some more. His fingers itched to know how smooth Valdo’s cheek was, to scratch through his beard, to find out if his lips were chapped or not. All things he’d been telling himself to not think of for so long he’d convinced himself he didn’t want to know - but he did.

“Jaskier.”

His eyes snapped to focus at his name - Jaskier, not Julian, and he could count on one hand the number of times Valdo had used the name he preferred - and it almost hurt to see the careful look Valdo had schooled his face into. Those deep green eyes were closed off, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly, his lips becoming a thin line as he prepared for something. But for what?

“You don’t have to be here.” Valdo sighed, something like bitterness flashing across his face, and Jaskier ached at it. “This is- this doesn’t have to…” The poor man floundered, almost twitching with agitation.

Valdo had never been any good with positive emotions, or he’d never seemed to know how to show or process them as well as the others. Jealousy, anger, bitterness, those had always come so naturally, had always shown so clearly on his face - but joy, tenderness, contentment, those were all things Jaskier had rarely if ever seen on him. And for the longest time he’d thought it was because Valdo didn’t know those things but there was a vulnerability to the slump of his shoulders, a resignation to his lower tone that made that damned hope flutter up in Jaskier’s chest.”

It was far too hot to even be outside, let alone be close to someone, but Jaskier braved the heat and the distance. He reached out and took a gentle hold of one of Valdo’s hands, daring not to look up at him, though he at least finally pushed his sunglasses up and away from his eyes as he studied the stock still fingers now resting in his hand.

Valdo had planned this. Had gotten together a basket full of food that they wouldn’t at all be able to finish in one sitting, had gotten a lovely, colorful blanket for the occasion (because there was no convincing Jaskier he had own anything of the sort before this), and had dressed himself up in nice black pants and a nice shirt to meet with him in some small park next to a lake surrounded by trees and dandelions.

He was trying. And if he was trying then maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to give him the smallest, most minuscule benefit of the doubt and believe that Valdo wasn’t going to crush his heart to dust when this was all over. If it was ever over. If it ever actually began, whatever it was.

“Valdo,” Jaskier sighed out, holding his fingers gently and caressing them with the rough pad of his thumb. A breeze rolled past through the trees and ruffled his curls and Jaskier could almost pretend he could smell all of the free food he’d been promised - if only it weren’t still neatly tucked away into all of its packaging. He still thought it would be more romantic if he could smell it. “I drove halfway across the city to come meet you, you know that right?”

“I know where you live, yes.”

Jaskier’s eyes flicked up to catch the pinched, thoughtful look on Valdo’s face, finding it still guarded as if he wasn’t sure where Jaskier was going. And perhaps Jaskier should have been extra nice to him but he couldn’t help himself, no matter how his heart fluttered away, no matter that he slid their hands together until their fingers were intertwined, and no matter that he never wanted to let go even if their palms were sweating against each other.

He wondered if their hearts were beating the same erratic rhythm intandem.

“If you made me drive all of this way,” he said, shooting his once rival and once friend a look he hoped would get his point across quite firmly, “just to tell me this isn’t a date, I am going to personally go through all of your music notes and spill ink onto every other note.”

Valdo stared at him for a breath, and then snorted, an ugly noise that made his whole face scrunch up in a very undignified fashion - and it made Jaskier desperately want to kiss his wrinkled nose. “Every other note? There has to be a more efficient method, Julian.”

Those long fingers squeezed Jaskier’s and he squeezed back, winking at his once friend, now date. “No better way to infuriate you than to waste my time and yours.”

“Better ways to get my attention, Julian, since we both know that’s what you’ve always been after.”

“Wha-” Jaskier started, huffing and sputtering that Valdo’s attention had not been what he’d been after, but it was impossible to form a coherent argument when the wine he’d brought had been expensive, the shawl brand new, and that with each passing banter he drew himself closer to the man who used to infuriate him more than any other.

--

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

[ellewords]

hey elle! i saw your answers for the questions i sent—i love coffee and cookie dough ice cream too! i’ve found that i like a lot of coffee-flavored stuff like ice cream, cake, and candy lol. i also really love cookies and cream! i’d say that’d be my favorite with coffee and cookie dough being VERY CLOSE seconds

BABY DON’T STOP IS ICONIC WHEW but may i propose....haikyuu boys dancing to it.......

anyways today i’ve got some headcanons for a past written on the margins question! first it was a karaoke party with the seijoh 4, and now it’s a road trip! aka you and iwaizumi are the only ones with any braincells in this godforsaken car (they make you handle the gps stuff since you’re the best with it). i can imagine each of them rotating and driving for a set number of hours or at least until they reach a rest stop, especially on long trips. whoever’s sitting shotgun (they rotate between this seat too) has control over the radio and aux cord and oikawa jokes that it’s the best part of going on road trips (but is he really joking though...)

makki and mattsun pretend to groan when you sit shotgun, but in actuality they don’t mind and will probably sing along to some of the songs you play (if there’s a rap part in the song currently playing everyone makes mattsun rap along i feel like his voice just fits it) while oikawa would be like UGH FINALLY SOMEONE WITH SOME MUSIC TASTE just to get a rise out of the other boys (but he really does think those kpop songs you blast lowkey slap he’s been listening to some of them while he works out or goes on his morning runs). iwa generally doesn’t have much of a preference but i can see him being partial to more upbeat songs to keep him or whoever’s driving awake, but even during slow songs the rest of you guys sing loud enough and chaotic enough to prevent anyone from getting any shut-eye (oikawa, makki, and mattsun dramatically act out a whole SAGA)

when you guys reach any rest stop makki is the first one out of the car and he makes a beeline towards the bathroom because he drank a lot of water during you guys’ impromptu karaoke session (gotta keep those vocal chords taken care of!). oikawa and mattsun are usually the ones in charge of getting snacks, they always end up getting a lot but they make sure to get everyone’s favorites! the amount of snacks they buy seems overkill but they’re athletic boys with voracious appetites and getting this many snacks ensures that the car is never short on food. if this is during or post-timeskip iwa is probably a little more strict on the snacks everyone eats (especially with regards to oikawa, being a professional athlete and all) but eventually decides to let up a bit—it’s not everyday he gets to go on a trip with his close friends, plus all those calories are gonna get burned right away once you guys reach your destination and go from place to place.

god help anyone who actually falls asleep in the car because oikawa and makki are taking photos of whoever’s sleeping with their phones AND with the polarioid camera you brought. despite this, though, everyone makes a conscious effort to be quieter when someone’s napping, and the volume of the radio is turned a bit lower. one of your favorite pictures on your phone is a selfie you took of everyone while you were sitting in the passenger seat: mattsun was driving at the time and though he wasn’t looking at the camera, a smile is on his face as he makes a peace sign with one hand; oikawa, iwa, and makki are sleeping in the back seats with oikawa and makki leaning on iwa’s shoulders (he lost a few rounds of rock paper scissors and had to sit in the middle). this also extends to when you’re asleep in the car as well—oikawa jokingly made his phone background a selfie of you leaning on his shoulder while napping (featuring a blurry iwaizumi at the side) but he actually finds it quite cute and doesn’t want to change it to his usually background quite yet.

it’s evening when you guys finally reach your hotel and everyone’s a bit tired from being cooped up in the car all day but surprisingly enough no one’s really sleepy because everyone at one point had the opportunity to nap on the way there. if you’re dating one of the boys the others DEFINITELY make you two take one room while the other three take the room adjacent to it. after everyone’s gotten ready for bed you’re all gathered in one of the hotel rolls just vibing on your phones and you and oikawa decide it’s the perfect time to bring out The Sheet Masks™️ that you kept in the cooler in the car during the trip so they’d remain cold. many more goofy photos of everyone with the masks on their faces are taken.

by this point it’s late at night and eventually you guys fall into having some nice, genuine heart-to-heart conversations. if this is during or post-timeskip everyone’s sharing what they’ve been up to ever since graduation or ever since you guys last saw/talked to each other. it’s just such a nice and comforting environment to be in because everyone’s a little tired from the day’s events and so it’s not as loud and boisterous, but at the same time this tiredness and it being nighttime means everyone’s filters are a little looser than usual and you could ask for advice on just about anything and everyone else would chime in with both lighthearted and actual suggestions. the boys are just SOFTER during this time like you could bring up how you’ve been getting back into something you did during high school (like playing piano or guitar or something) and they’d want you to show them videos or pictures of what you’ve been up to! maybe one boy brings up something that’s been worrying them for a while and you and the others are giving him words of encouragement while also cracking jokes. it’s just really chill and nice and everyone likes these late night talks because they bring you all a little closer.

everyone ends up sleeping in the same hotel room. you wake up sandwiched between oikawa and mattsun (oikawa’s got an arm thrown around you and mattsun’s long leggies are literally on top of yours and you wonder how you managed to sleep soundly last night) and iwa and makki are on the pull out sofa bed and you’re like Hey Guys. What The Heck (makki takes this opportunity to snap a photo of the three of you wrapped up in the bedcovers) and when you guys go to get breakfast at the hotel buffet it’s strangely quiet because almost everyone is still sleepy lol.

after getting some food in your system and getting ready for the day you’re all back to your usual energetic selves! you snap a mirror selfie of everyone gathered around the sink in one of the hotel rooms because oikawa was finishing getting ready (he takes the longest i just know it) and the other boys were just hanging around him talking about what’s planned for the day. the schedule you guys have isn’t super specific but there’s a few choice locations that you guys looked into in advance and try to visit no matter what! a day out with them is definitely filled with photos. you’ve got a lot of them in which they’re trying to recreate some funny pose in a picture oikawa saw online (like the one of nct in the ask i sent you earlier!!) and they either turn out really great or really horrible (funny) because you have a knack for taking photos where everything looks normal but someone’s face would be really blurry. but they would also try and take some really nice photos too—they’ll all even help you if you want to take some solo shots! oikawa and makki know the best angles for aesthetically pleasing photos, mattsun has a knack for taking panorama photos that look perfect, and iwaizumi’s really good at taking those types of photos of you guys jumping in the air without them looking weird. you’ve basically got four tall hypemen it’s great!!

overall i think it’d be so fun to go on a trip with them because it’s the perfect balance!! they’re chaotic clowns but they also won’t hesitate to give you a piggyback ride if your feet really hurt or if your shoes are giving you blisters (oikawa will try and make iwa give him a piggyback ride too, though). you guys end up getting a lot closer and having a TON of photos and inside jokes at the end of the trip, and though you’re all reluctant to go back, you also all know that this is only the beginning of a lot more outings together! if you take little clips of various events throughout the trip and compile them all together into a little vlog they’ll all probably watch it together through zoom or discord screenshare or something loool

THIS IS SO LONG take a shot (of water) every time i say one of the guys’ names or if i say “everyone” or some variation of it FJDJSNS seijoh 4 brainrot things am i right.....i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing and thinking of this! i think in the future i might think of stuff for if you go on a trip with the miya twins (and maybe suna too?).....hmmm hmmm hmmm!!! —🌸

— from elle ! i love this so so much >_< like literally what do i have to do to go on a road trip with the seijoh four??? it would be so much fun and chaotic and i want that for me,, i love them and their friendship so much it's insane ;-; anyways, thoughts + additions under the cut <33 thank you for this !!

everyone who isn't driving makes it their mission to annoy the one who is; whether it's through repeatedly poking their cheek, asking how long of the drive they have left, etc. the person who can last the longest in driver's seat would probably be iwaizumi, all his years playing volleyball with them as prepared him for this moment — but also looked up breathing exercises to avoid getting angry.

the best person to have riding shotgun would most be mattsun, especially when it's really late or super early ; keeps the conversation going and doesn't fall asleep, even when everyone in the backseat is. he shotguns energy drinks every hour or so.

i love the idea of oikawa, makki, and mattsun acting out a whole saga in the backseat omg !! in my head it's a song like taylor swift's love story wherein makki is the love interest, oikawa is taylor, and mattsun is like the dad who doesn't want them together. they really go all out on the acting — oikawa might have let out a couple of tears — and even iwa cracks a lil smile from the driver's seat.

awe timeskip!iwa watching out for everyone's diets ;-; but i do agree that he's gonna let up a bit considering that everyone doesn't see each other all the time. but i feel like he gives everyone the look™ every now and then despite this.

aw cmon don't hit me with oikawa making his background me leaning on his shoulder as i sleep that's so adorable i might cry :<< but other photos taken during naps include : iwa leaning on oikawa’s shoulder, makki sleeping with his eyes halfway-open ??? mattsun’s face covered in stickers that you impulse-bought at a random stopover.

sheet masks with the boys ??? yes pls !! though iwa would definitely be the type to almost wash his face after and oikawa screeched just before he was able to splash water on his face.

but late in the night heart to hearts ??? ugh, peak softness from the boys — everyone cries at some point because woah all of you really grew so much since high school and it made everyone feel all warm and tender.

but at some point, without thinking, and also bec it’s late and what does he have to lose, iwa just goes “you know, i had a crush on you when we were in high school” at yn and everyone just goes ?!?!?!?!?

yn : what the hell i had a crush on you ????

and oikawa’s just cackling in the background like, “i knew it !!!! both of you kept saying i was crazy for pushing it i feel so vindicated rn” 

meanwhile makki hands mattsun some money because they bet on it years ago and they were finally getting answers — makki thought you would confess first and mattsun thought it would be iwa ; several years too late but at least ;//

also i would just love to fall asleep in between oikawa and mattsun,,, please how do i get that

also on mattsun’s panoramas: everyone likes moving around a lot when he takes those photos and it’s the perfect mix of weird and cool because yeah there are like five makki’s but one of them looks like he has a third arm and a triangular head

and the vlog and we all get to watch it together over discord ???? that’s it, that’s what i want ;-;

tldr; I would give anything to go on a road trip with the seijoh four ;((

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

a question: what are the hq characters like on a road trip?  |  written on the margins masterlist

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[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Supercorptober2020

Day 29 - Dinner

Lena paced the floor in her black skinny jeans, red flannel, and converse, wondering for the millionth time if she was underdressed. Kara had said dress comfortably and so she had. She was still panicking.

At least her converse made less noise than if she’d been pacing the hardwood floors of her apartment in heels, so there was less chance of Kara hearing her anxious pacing. Except that Kara was also Supergirl and had superhearing so she could probably hear her pacing anyway. She could probably hear her racing heartbeat. That thought only served to make her heart beat faster.

Lena almost jumped out of her skin when there was a knock at her door. She took a deep breath and wiped her clammy hands on her jeans, making her way to the door. The outfit would have to do.

Kara was standing there with a nervous smile, hands fiddling with the stems of a bouquet of deep red carnations. She was dressed in jeans and worn boots with a smart navy blue button down. It was a juxtaposition that was so perfectly Kara that she couldn’t help but smile.

Kara smiled softly in return. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

She pushed the flowers towards Lena in an awkward jerky movement. “I- um… I got you flowers.”

Lena smiled and took them, running her finger over the soft petals. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She stepped back and opened the door wider. “Would you like to come in while I put these in water?”

When Lena finished arranging them in a vase on her kitchen island, she turned around to see Kara still standing awkwardly just inside her door.

She made her way over to her and took her hands which she were twisting together.

“Nervous?”

Kara bit her lip and nodded.

Lena smiled softly. “Me too.��

Kara’s shoulders dropped and she sighed in relief. “Really?”

She laughed and nodded before linking their arms and turning them back to the front door. “So. What have you got planned for our first date?”

———

It turned out Kara had planned to take her somewhere on a motorcycle. She had apparently borrowed it from Alex and looked unfairly good as she donned a leather jacket and bike helmet, handing a second to Lena. It gave Lena an excuse to wrap her arms around Kara’s waist though, so she certainly wasn’t complaining.

Kara drove them a little way outside the city, replacing tall buildings and busy roads with greenery and uneven paths.

Lena got slightly worried when Kara drove straight into an empty field but she realised why as they stopped at the top of the hill.

Kara had laid out a picnic blanket with a basket and a cooler nearby, and a pile of extra blankets and pillows.

They got off the bike and Kara took the helmet back from Lena, making a small ‘ta da’ motion to the layout. She went over to the basket, kneeling down beside it and unpacking containers of chinese takeout.

She set them on the picnic blanket and rubbed the back of her neck. “I um… I’m not the best cook so I thought it would be safer to get chinese than accidentally poison you.”

Lena laughed and sat down beside her, kissing her cheek. “It’s perfect.”

Kara blushed and ducked her head. “I actually chose this place for the view.” She nodded in the direction they had come from and Lena turned to follow her gaze.

National City rose up before them, lights sparkling in the windows of skyscrapers like Christmas trees. L-corp was there in the middle of them, the light in her office off for once but the large L illuminated and visible even from there.

“It’s beautiful, Kara.”

“It’s even better once the stars come out.”

Lena looked up towards the dark sky. The first little lights were just beginning to appear.

Kara was already looking at her when she looked back down and they both blushed.

After a moment Kara cleared her throat. “Chinese?”

———

The stars were twinkling above them in their hordes by the time they finished eating. They lay back on the blanket, holding hands between them, and looked up at them, telling each other stories.

They were at a lull in the conversation when Kara shot up and looked excitedly down at Lena. “I almost forgot - I brought a firepit and marshmallows!”

Lena laughed and sat up too, leaning back on her hands as she watched Kara hop up and drag a metal firepit closer to them. She had already filled it with wood and just had to light it. She started digging through the basket and Lena looked back at the National City skyline while she waited.

Kara’s searching became more frantic as more time went on and Lena frowned as she began to pull every item out the basket, seemingly distressed.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes… no.” She pushed a palm against her forehead. “No. I forgot the matches.”

Kara looked like she might cry and Lena’s eyes widened. She got up and knelt by Kara, putting a hand on her upper arm in an attempt to comfort her. “Hey, it’s okay. Can’t you just use your heatvision?”

Kara sniffed and looked down, not answering.

Lena cupped her cheek and gently turned her head back to look at her. “What’s going on?”

Kara bit her lip. “I’m scared you’ll like Supergirl more than Kara Danvers.”

Lena deflated at the confession and pulled Kara into her arms. After a moment she pulled back, tucking a strand of hair behind Kara’s ear. “Why would you think that?”

Kara shrugged and ducked her head. “You kissed me as Supergirl.”

Lena stood up, extending a hand down to Kara. She took it and let Lena help her up (or kindly pretended to) and Lena sat them back down on the picnic blanket. She took both of Kara’s hands in her own, rubbing her thumbs across her knuckles.

“Yes I kissed Supergirl. But only because I’d met Kara Danvers and I realised you were the same person. I promise I don’t just go around kissing superheroes.”

She smiled at the small laugh that drew from Kara.

“That interview I had with Kara Danvers? That was the longest interview I’ve ever done, simply because I was enjoying it so much I lost track of time. I have never enjoyed an interview before.”

Kara smiled down at their hands.

“And when we spent the whole night talking after I kissed you? That wasn’t Supergirl. You told me yourself - that was Kara Zor-El. So, yes, I like Supergirl. Of course I do because she is a part of you. But I like Kara Danvers more. And most of all, I like Kara Zor-El.”

Kara looked back up at her hopefully.

“When I agreed to this date, I didn’t just mean with one part of you. I want to get to know all of you.”

“Really?” Kara searched her face.

“Really.” She brought one hand back up to cup Kara’s cheek, stroking her thumb over it.

They both drifted closer, falling into each other’s orbit, until their noses brushed together.

Kara glanced down at her lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

She answered by pressing their lips together softly. It was sweet and imperfect and perfectly them. They eventually got back to the marshmallows, and they talked and laughed and kissed under a blanket of stars.

[chvndlcr]

hey everyone, i’m elle! i’m in the est timezone. i’m nonbinary and i use she/her pronouns. i’m very bad at doing short intro posts but i’m gonna try to keep these short and sweet. so now let’s talk about my boy chan. he is my oldest oc - i've been writing him since 2014. 

[ alex fitzalan, cis man, 22, he/him ] did you see who just walked in? it was that SENIOR, the ╳ + ASSIDUOUS AND  - GUARDED ╳  one? you know, the one who lives OFF CAMPUS, CHANDLER LINWOOD! i heard they are majoring in BUSINESS and they can’t wait to get out of here to FIGURE OUT WHAT HE WANTS TO DO.  crap! stop staring, here they come! 

name. james chandler linwood // when chandler was five, he found out about middle names at school. after asking his dad what his was, he immediately decided that chandler was a way cooler name than james, and has gone by his middle name ever since. one of his pet peeves is people referring to him as james.  hometown. wayzata, mn // suburb of minneapolis major. business // chandler has no clue what he wants to do with his life. he’s been doing some photography gigs on the side since his freshman year of college, so he decided it wouldn’t hurt to get a degree in business so he could run his own shit better. he knows he doesn’t want to do photography as a career long-term, though. birthday. february 11th, 1999 // twenty two years old.  gender. cis man orientation. biromantic asexual // chan is completely out as ‘bi’. most people assume that means he’s bisexual and he doesn’t correct that idea. he’s a lot quieter about being asexual. a lot of people don’t understand what it is, and ask invasive questions, and he’s a naturally private person who wants to avoid all of that entirely.  hobbies. photography, cooking, video games phobias. acrophobia // fear of heights allergy. bee venom

[ BIO ] [tw. abuse/neglect, alcoholism, drug addiction, self harm, depression]

chandler is the only child of john and susan linwood. susan is a doctor while john works for an advertising company. susan has always been a bit ‘out there’, with no brain-to-mouth filter and some very problematic viewpoints and opinions. john started drinking when chan was eight. actually, he relapsed into drinking again, but chandler doesn’t know he had an alcohol problem before that. chandler knew his parents loved him; one of their better parenting traits was making sure he didn’t forget that. but they weren’t mentally present enough to be very good parents. gradually his dad became angry and violent while he was drinking and that, coupled with chandler’s rebellious teenage years, made the linwood home a less and less safe place for chandler.

in high school, he was known for hanging out with the “wrong crowd”. he partied a lot, trying to mentally escape from his home life and normal teen angst stuff. he often mouthed off to teachers and got in trouble on a regular basis. but he also worked really hard in school, taking mostly AP classes while managing As and Bs. not many people knew what to make of that, and acted like he was just a troublemaker that was naturally gifted. but in reality he was juggling challenging school work, a busy social life, and doing all of the cooking and cleaning at home. 

another thing chan had a reputation for was quickly rotating through girlfriends (and boyfriends, but there weren’t anywhere near as many guys to date at his suburban high school). but it wasn’t the situation everyone thought it was. as relationships became more physically intimate, he became more uncomfortable. as soon as sex was suggested, he would end the relationship. in hindsight, this wasn’t the best way to approach dating. but at the time, he had no idea asexuality was a thing and that he didn’t owe anyone sex just because they were in a relationship.

his longest high school relationship was madison. they had mutual friends and started hanging out. madison had a fairly obvious drug problem, but that didn’t bother chandler. a part of him was more attracted to her because of it, although he’d never admit that to anyone. plus she was asexual. this not only was how he found out that was a sexual orientation, but it also took a lot of anxiety out of the idea of dating and chandler fell hard. 

madison easily grew jealous. she was biphobic, hated sharing chandler with anyone, and was often bossy and controlling. yet chandler noticed none of the red flags until it was too late. by the time he started trying to untangle himself from her, he couldn’t. he was scared what she would do to herself if he ended things, and as she became physically violent he was scared of what she would do to him as well. since he couldn’t get out of the situation, and had never learned healthy ways of coping with the stress and trauma in his life, he turned to binge drinking and self harm.

his way out came in the form of an acceptance letter from suffolk university. as soon as he graduated high school, he left for boston and never looked back. 

while he had a great inner drive in high school, that came to a screeching halt once he started college. his motivation had always been to get out of wayzata. but now that he was finally free, he had no idea what to do. at the same time, he was dealing with the aftermath of both his dad and his ex-girlfriend’s abuse towards him. 

while he continued pushing forward, he never found that motivation to really care about school or his future again. he’s in his final year of college and still hasn’t figured out what he wants to do with his life. he feels stuck and frustrated.

most people don’t know about his parents, or his struggles with mental health and self harm. he’s in total denial that he has a problem with alcohol. he simply doesn’t open up easily, preferring to surround himself with a shell that can become spiky if he feels uncomfortable. but he’s always cracking jokes and acting like he doesn’t take anything seriously, putting up a front so nobody looks too closely at the cracks.

[ HEADCANONS ] 

while chandler is shit at taking care of his own needs, he’s amazing at taking care of other people. he will hold your hair back at a party while you throw up, make sure you drink enough water and electrolytes, then make you breakfast in the morning. he’s definitely a bit of a ‘mom friend’, although he doesn’t think he is.

he may act apathetic, but he cares. a lot. he’s a rather empathetic person. unfortunately he has the emotional intelligence of a spoon, so this isn’t always a good thing

sometimes when he’s drunk, chandler starts rambling about video game and/or cartoon conspiracy theories

his yearbook quote was “would you woohoo me in sims yes or no”

also he really likes cooking for other people so if he asks to cook for you please just humor him and say yes

[ WANTED CONNECTION ]

some sort of family member // he’s an only child, so probably a cousin. they don’t have to be from minnesota.

exes // guys, girls, nonbinary people....doesn’t matter. 

fake relationship // for some reason, these two pretend they’re dating. maybe more happens, maybe not.

restaurant service // they can’t cook, so they’re always coming over and eating what chandler makes.

roommate // they could be the best of friends or hate each others guts. lots of room to find the right dynamic

best friend // one of the only people chan trusts, and they know everything about him

classmate // self explanatory

[ DISCLAIMERS ]

i know some people get really touchy about aces being portrayed as sex repulsed so often. asexuality is a lack of sexual attraction, that’s it. some aces like sex. however, chandler does not and that’s okay too!

also i know he has some heavy topics in his writing. i will tag any post that involve these topics accordingly, and always do my absolute best to handle this kind of material in a respectful and empathetic way. 

[ FINAL NOTES ]

so yeah that’s chandler. so much for making this short, but i actually left a lot of small details out. please like this post or send me a message to start plotting with my son.

[ayatosmlktea]

Your tumblr account is so fucking great!!! Glad that i found it. Can i request an imagine? Levi's s/o got pregnant in teen modern au and levi is having second thoughts and all but he eventually came back to them. Give me your angst and fluffffffff ❤❤ thank u

A/N: thank youuuu! Comments like these make my day ❤️ you guys are amazing and again thanks for being patient with my slow ass

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 ❤️

It was the longest three minutes of her life, Y/N held the stick in her hands her eyes unable to drift away from the tiny display in front of her. In a matter of seconds her life was either going to change forever or things were going to stay the same. Every fibre of her being was hurtling towards panic as the seconds dragged on, the breath she had been holding released in a quick whoosh of air as the word ‘positive’ popped up on the screen.

“Fuck” she whispered feeling a sense of despair crawling into her mind. They were only kids; Y/N sixteen and Levi a year older, just freshly graduated out of high school and working minimum wage jobs that were no means of raising a baby on. Tears drip down her face at the uncertainty of the unknown, she knew her parents were going to be furious, they wren’t the biggest fans of Levi. She knew how hard working he was, constantly scraping by the skin of his teeth to help his mom and balancing their relationship on top of everything.

She bit her lip contemplating her options, as scared as she was at probably one of the biggest moments of her life Y/N knew she wanted to go through with the pregnancy but would wait to hear what he had to say before making a final decision. She loved Levi more than anything in the world and knew that he loved her just as much. Picking up her phone she dials his number without a second thought knowing that the longer she sat on her decision the more prone to backing out of telling him she would be.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?” The sound of his voice alone was enough to help ease the ever-growing anxiety in her stomach.

“Are you busy? I need to talk to you about something.” Levi immediately knew something was off, not knowing what to think sent a heavy feeling of unease settled into his being.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Kind of, but I’d rather do this in person. Can we meet up?” Tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth she tries to steady her shaky hands to no avail. Levi’s nervousness was fuelling her own, the momentary relief she’d felt quickly squashed by a storm of doubt and second thoughts.

“Yeah I’m on my way home now, you can meet me there.” Hanging up the call she began pacing back and forth. The reality of the situation was almost suffocating, their lives were going to change after today. Y/N couldn’t handle the possibility of him leaving her over something like this. Gathering her things along with the pregnancy test she shoved them into her bag and headed towards Levi’s.

Their phone call had his nerves on edge the entire walk home, whatever she had to tell him couldn’t have been good. Maybe she was thinking about breaking up, Levi knew he could be hard to be around sometimes but Y/N had always been there to reassure him that she loved him. The alert from his phone letting him know she was there almost made him want to vomit, the suspension was becoming too much. Her appearance wasn’t helping calm his racing mind. She was clearly nervous about something, her skin was pale and a thin layer of sweat made her face shiny despite the weather being on the cooler side. Leading her to his bedroom he watched as she sat uncomfortably on the edge of his bed. Something was definitely wrong, she was never this high strung around him.

“Y/N tell me what’s going on, you’re killing me” Levi gulps his mouth feeling suddenly dry as he sits next to her. She meets his gaze hesitantly, something swimming beneath her forced collected exterior. Taking a deep breath she reaches into her bag and shoves something into his hands before turning her body away from his.

“Fuck” the tense situation had Y/N’s emotions all over the place and she couldn’t hold back the laughter at how similar their reactions had been.

“I know…this isn’t something we talked about before and it’s okay if you don’t want -“

“I do” Cutting her off Levi’s words were unwavering. His eyes still fixed to the result on the screen. There were many emotions swirling inside his brain but more than anything he wanted her and now their baby. His whole life had been a series of unfortunate events and Y/N was the one thing that had stayed consistent.

“I’m scared as fuck but I want us to be a family” His expression was so sincere and heartfelt that it brought her to tears again. She had hoped that Levi would say yes but she could never be sure. Pulling her into a hug he presses firm yet tender kisses on her temple silently promising her that he would the best father their baby could ask for.

♡    ♡    ♡ 

It had been a few months since then, Y/N’s baby bump was beginning to show more prominently now. True to his words Levi had been working his ass off, picking up extra shifts at work to save up for their baby. She was also working hard, saving every penny possible and trying to balance taking classes on top of it. Her parents had been less than thrilled at finding out their daughter was expecting a child with someone they considered to be stealing their baby’s youth; but had agreed to allow her to live at home until they were financially stable. It had hurt her that they still didn’t accept Levi but she would take advantage of their generosity until she moved out. Things had been going well between them, albeit Levi was more stressed than ever before but at least he’d had his mother’s support throughout all of it. Y/N began to worry when he started answer her calls with less vigour than she was used to, even on his lowest days her calls always cheered him up.

Lately Levi was closing himself off it seemed. His texts were shorter and less frequent and while Y/N knew that he was exhausted she couldn’t help but worry that he was having second thoughts.

“Are you ignoring me on purpose?” She asked over their nightly phone calls one evening.

“I’m just tired Y/N” he sighed heavily and she knew he wasn’t lying about that but his behaviours were becoming too questionable not to dig deeper.

“Do you still want the baby?” The silence at the other end was deafening and against her will hot tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“I don’t know” he sighed again, his voice sounded strained and it only made her feel worse for placing such a big burden on his shoulders so young.

“Sorry” was all she could manage between silent sobs.

“I’m just…confused” Squeezing her eyes shut she willed herself not to make any noise, not wanting to add to the stress she was already putting him through.

“It’s fine Levi! I’m sorry for bothering you, you should sleep! I’ll talk to you later” Her voice was disgustingly fake and he knew it.

“Y/N wait!” She hung up the phone pretending that she hadn’t heard him. Rolling over onto her side she pulled the blankets over her head and cried herself to sleep.

Levi threw his phone across the bed groaning in frustration, he didn’t know what to think anymore. He was emotionally and physically drained between having to help his mom financially on top of working everyday at two different jobs and having to provide emotional support for Y/N. His body and mind were too exhausted to think coherently. He’d been having doubts for a few weeks now, the growing life inside her belly added to the impeding stress that was going to follow after their baby was born. Levi couldn’t handle it anymore, he felt utterly disappointed in himself for not being strong enough for Y/N but he couldn’t help her if he was struggling this much. Every night before he went to bed and every morning when he woke up he’d pull out a picture of the first ultrasound they had gone to; to be quite honest he didn’t even know how the image in front of him was growing to be a baby. But it reminded him of why he got up everyday. Life had suddenly become more difficult than he had ever imagined at seventeen but Y/N was worth it. Without realizing it Levi had fallen asleep with the picture pressed against his chest.

♡    ♡    ♡ 

The next morning he had woken up feeling more refreshed than he had in months. Levi had only been slightly disappointed when he’d found no messages from Y/N. He could tell that his words had hurt her and knew that he needed to make it up to her. Levi was about to jump into the shower when the smell of bacon hit him like a truck, his stomach grumbled loudly and it wasn’t until then that he realized he hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch yesterday. Curiously he wandered downstairs to find Y/N in the kitchen quietly humming to herself as she prepared breakfast.

“Hey what’s all this?” He asked his arms wrapping around her from behind making her jump in surprise.

“God you scared the shit out of me!” She gasps as his arms tighten their hold on her waist, his head buried into the crook of her neck. Shutting of the stove she turns around to face him, her eyes still slightly puffy from crying the night before.

Levi frowns at her bloodshot eyes, his thumbs coming up to caress her cheeks.

“Were you crying?” Avoiding his gaze she tries not to get emotional again at how affectionate he was being.

“No” she mumbled but Levi knew all her tells and could see she was obviously lying so that he wouldn’t feel bad about the way their call had ended last night.

“Anyway um your mom let me in, I made you breakfast since I know how hard you’ve been working lately and I feel bad I haven’t been able to help you out and it’s my fault that you’re tired all the time-“ Levi’s lips meet hers in a long overdue kiss cutting off her ramblings. Her hands grab at the material of his shirt sighing happily against his mouth.

“It’s not your fault babe and I’m sorry for making you feel like that” His grey eyes shining with only love for the girl in front of him.

“But last night you said that you didn’t want the baby” Her voice was soft, repeating the words out loud hurt just as much as they had last night. Levi would be damned if she felt like she had forced this upon him.

“What I said was stupid, I didn’t mean it. I’ve just been really stressed out and tired from work and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Cupping her face between his hands he draws her in for another kiss.

“I don’t regret this at all Y/N. I love you both so much and I can’t wait to meet our baby” his hand slides down to her stomach. A surge of intense admiration for his girlfriend makes him choke back tears, never in his life had he felt so strongly about anything and it scared the hell out of him but seeing that smile on her face was worth all the pain. Their future was worth it and together they would be able to make it out of anything.

“Come on let’s eat before all your hard work goes to waste” kissing the top of her head all his doubts disappeared. There was nothing that could tear him away from his family.

Masterlist

[vitamx]

recordings

[Read on AO3, too!]

---

They had just been trying to steal some extra rockets laying around in Grian's base to sell at Sahara- that's all they were doing, honest!

 But... perhaps if Grian's storage wasn't so morally unforgivable and disorderly, then they wouldn't have accidentally found a shulker box with a mysterious camera and accidentally stole it.

It wasn't their fault! All an accident, they swear!

Surely the several, several recordings on the camera were just going to be harmless, funny little bits to watch and tease Grian with, right? Besides, Mumbo and Iskall had nothing better to do- the only thing they could be doing other than snooping around was to count the seconds until Demise began, but that'd be no fun, would it?

So, smiling deviously to each other (although Iskall was much more excited for this than Mumbo was), the two of them settled down in the infinity room underneath the Sahara warehouse. Thankfully, the camera was a large one, so they wouldn't have to strain their eyes too hard to tell what was going on.

 So, settled comfortably next to each other, leaning forward at the camera planted in front of them, Iskall went to the first recording on the camera and pressed play.

 ---

 "So, this--"

 A quite crackling sounded in the audio, a younger version of Grian talking without noise for a few seconds, for some reason wearing a horrible spray-tan and swimming wear.

 "--I figured I could, like, look back on it later, or something. Any--"

 Crackle.

 "-ys, I'm just about to get off the bus- I'm meeting up with Taurtis and Sam... I don't really know Sam too well, actually. He could be a murderer or someth--"

 The clip cut to white noise for a split second, and young Grian was now in a small shop, looking confused and a little bit baffled.

 "So- what, pufferfish are currency here?"

 "Yeah, Gree-on, did you even study anything about Japan before you came to visit? You're not in England anymore," A young man with rabbit ears said snidely, grinning at Grian teasingly.

 "We accept all forms of dead fish here," A tan-skinned man with red and blue heterochromatic eyes said, sticking his tongue out playfully.

 Grian stared down at the camera for a quick second, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

 "Uh, yeah... alright then, so I can just... give him his dead children as payment?" Young Grian said with a nervous grin, the camera catching the image of some sort of humanoid pufferfish man.

 The camera hummed and buzzed, the visuals flickering on and off for a few seconds before the camera cut to black, only a few hard-to-understand words came through;

 "Sandcastle- brzzzt- Sam- brzt- road--"

 ---

 Honestly, it wasn't quite what Mumbo and Iskall had been expecting. Mumbo hummed a bit uncomfortably, turning to Iskall with a silent question- was this invading on Grian's privacy too much?

 Iskall reassured him it was fine, it wasn't like these were gonna hold Grian's deepest and darkest secrets! It was just a little fun, something they could joke about with just each other.

He reassured both Mumbo and himself that they wouldn't tell a soul.

 And not tell a soul they did.

 The recordings continued and continued.

 ---

 "Wh- it's not a potato or a tomato, it's a scarecrow!  I spent weeks on this!" Young Grian scoffed, the camera casted downward somewhat, the faces of anyone barely shown.

 "It's obviously a tomato, Gree-on, I know what I see! You should've gotten a cooler costume, like me! I'm Satan." One of the figures next to Grian said, probably grinning.

 "Y'know, yeah, that fits--"

 The camera buzzed and cut to a different setting, one in front of what appeared to be a high school, decorated for Halloween.

 "--ust have to see who can last the longest in the school..." A quavery, elegant voice spoke, the speaker's face holding a bleeding socket where an eye should be. "And we will see who is the better man..." They spoke with a chuckle.

 "I don't think we told Grian about what happened last time we went in the school at night, actually," The same tan-skinned man from before said, now wearing a cheap Ryu costume.

 "Oh, yeaahh!"

 "...Well, I wasn't scared before, but I'm scared now--"

 The camera shut to black for a few seconds, and Mumbo and Iskall thought that maybe the battery of it ran out, or something along those lines- until it flashed back, full force, crackles and buzzing loud and visible.

 "Who killed my wife?"

 A ghost, blank eyed with red scars around its neck appeared, hovering slightly in the air, and held a noose in its hand. The camera was positioned on the ground, most likely dropped.

The ghost floated closer to the camera, turning its head, staring into the lens blankly.

 "I know it was you, Y--"

 The camera stuttered once more, chills now running down Mumbo and Iskall's spines.

Did Grian deal with this type of stuff all the time?

 When the camera flickered back, the camera was picked up roughly, frantic voices surrounding the area it was recording. The lighting was still dark, the atmosphere creepy.

 "Just--"

 Brzzt.

 " -et's get out!"

 The camera crackled and flickered to a different setting, just outside the school they had been in.

 "-think those are fighting words, Sam!" Young Grian said, feigning shock and holding back a grin.

The young man with rabbit ears grinned widely and laughed, pulling out a knife of all things.

 "They are! I've been waitin' for this!" He cackled, the tan-skinned heterochromatic person in front of him yelping.

A blonde woman stepped in between them quickly, scolding them quietly.

 The rabbit-eared teen was disappointed, the other in front of him relieved.

 "Yeah... You're right, Mrs. Okami, I shouldn't-- SIKE!"

 And then... there was screaming- screaming, and laughter between two people as the rabbit-eared young man scurried away, his knife now tainted red.

There was blood, and there was Grian, holding onto his wounded friend close as his camera dropped to the ground, flickering to black.

 It was quiet for a few seconds.

 And then, without visuals, a voice spoke up, slurred and exhausted.

 "...I don't... wanna die, Gri," The voice said weakly.

 "You're not... You're not going to die, Taurtis. We're gonna be okay, Sam was just... I'm sure he didn't realize what he was doing." Grian's voice spoke quietly in response.

 And then, a simple "I'm tired" was all that was heard before a loud bang erupted from the silence.

 The camera's blackness parted for a split second, showing something disturbing, something the two of them could never unsee.

 Grian's bloodied face appeared, gritting his teeth as he pulled another body from the wreckage, even more bloody than him. The body Grian was pulling was crippled and shaking violently, a piece of glass cutting into his forehead.

 "Taurtis... Just... Stay with me, okay? I'll... There's a hospital nearby... Just..."

 Grian's eyes locked onto the camera, his hand quickly reaching out for it before the footage cut off.

  End of Recording Session 1.

  ---

  They were both frozen in horror, now scooting closer to each other to bring some sort of comfort to themselves. Mumbo's hand was covering his mouth, and Iskall was hugging his knees, both physically shaking from the footage. That kind of thing- it could have been traumatizing.

Was Grian okay? Was this Taurtis guy okay?

They both wanted to make some move forward to cut the camera off. They really did.

 Curiosity did kill the cat though, didn't it?

 Naturally, the videos continued.

 Grian being forced to dress up and act like someone else, Grian crying and being forced to eat plastic bags of chips, Grian shooting a man dead, Grian threatening to kill "Sam" to get information from some girl, Grian pretending to be the very man he killed, Grian helping to shoot down an entire fleet of yakuza-

 And just as naturally, Mumbo and Iskall could not stop Grian from kicking them out of the Architechs in a fit of rage and tears.

---

[mocalmangeal]

field trips through the years with the mellark children because @rosegardeninwinter put me into a mood and this ended up much longer than intended oops

Willow Mellark is four the first time her preschool class is led outside of their colorful brick building and told to prepare for an adventure.

She squints her eyes against the bright morning sun, surveying her surroundings carefully. Mama tells her it’s important to always be aware of what’s around you. Her eyes land on the faded mural flanking the sides of the school’s entrance; a dandelion field, with children of all ages zooming through the yellow blooms. Papa painted this, she remembers. A long time ago. Before mama even had any babies.

A hand curling around her back shakes her from her thoughts and she snaps her head up. “Mama!”

“Are you excited for your field trip, love?”

She crinkles her nose. “I don’t want to go to a field. Can we go back inside and read a story?”

Katniss merely laughs, grabbing her daughter’s hand to follow the rest of the group.

After a few minutes of walking, a familiar storefront comes into view with its dark green facade and large picture windows showcasing various cakes. Willow points her fingers and shrieks excitedly. “It’s Papa’s store! Mama, can we go say hi?”

Her mother smiles down at her. “Of course we can.”

Willow runs hurriedly through the door, not noticing the other kids following along. She sticks her tongue out as Papa kisses Mama, his hands resting on her watermelon-round belly. Yuck.

“I’m glad everybody could make it. Today, boys and girls, we’re going to learn all about the kitchen,” Papa’s soft voice calls from the front of the room. “If you follow me, I’ve got your uniforms all laid out.”

Ten tiny aprons lay folded over the back of chairs. Willow ties hers on (with Mama’s help) and sits up straight, hands folded on the table and watches mesmerized as Papa throws ingredients together into a large glass bowl.

“These are called shortbread cookies. First, we have to mix the butter with the sugar. Let’s pass the bowl around and take turns. Don’t be afraid to get in there with your hands; baking is a messy job after all.”

When the bowl has made its way around the table, much to the delight of the children, Peeta adds the vanilla and flour and sets out rolling the dough across the table’s surface. “Now, each of you gets to choose what shape you want your cookie to be.” A pile of cookie cutters lands on the table with a clank.

Tiny hands reach out excitedly, grasping for stars and birds and flowers. Willow picks a simple circle. When Papa makes his way over her to her, he nods and cuts her cookie out. “Why just a plain circle, Catkin?”

She grins. “Because it’s shaped like Mama’s baby.”

-

The ten minutes it takes the cookies to bake are the longest of Willow’s life. She huffs, kicks her feet against the counter, scowls at the clock (despite not being able to read the time), crosses her arms.

Finally, at once, the timer is done, and she pumps her arms in the air excitedly. Mama helps set each cookie down in front of its rightful owner, while Papa sets out a rainbow of colorful tubes and jars of shining sugar sprinkles. She peruses them carefully, squinting at her selections. No, not that one.

Finally, she settles on the purple. By the time she’s done, her fingers and face are a mess of violet frosting and Mama has to take her to wash up.

“It’s almost time to head back, love. Why don’t you go say bye to your dad?”

She skips over to Peeta, who’s at war with a red splotch of frosting on one of the chairs. “Papa?” She tugs the bottom of his apron, pulling him to her level.

“Yes, dear?”

“I think you should give me an extra cookie.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “I’ll give it to Mama. For the baby.”

----------------------------------------------------------

Eight year old Ash stomps impatiently at the grassy edge of the schoolyard. They should’ve left for their field trip exactly four minutes ago. That’s four less minutes that he gets to spend in the woods, all thanks to--

“Hey, isn’t that Mr. and Mrs. Mellark?”

He swivels in place, balking at the site of his parents running to his class group. No, why are they here? He groans out loud.

“Sorry, I thought I forgot to turn the oven off when we left so we went all the way back and turns out it was off the entire time but then I saw that I had put on my old boots with the holes in them and had to go and find--”

Mama gasps in a deep breath, not even finishing her sentence. “Sorry, we’re here now. Let’s get going.”

They’re split into two different groups. Ash ends up in Papa’s group, shying away when Papa tries to ruffle the top of his head. He turns on his heels, pretending to not notice the hurt expression on his face. It’s a fifteen minute hike to the stream they’re studying today and he just wants to get a move on.

By the time they reach it, he’s giddy with excitement. First assignment of the day: make rubbings of bark and leaves. He’s first in line to snatch up the paper and charcoal being distributed, taking off blindly towards a fallen log. He’s deep in thought, deciding which leaf would turn out the best, when he sees another boy coming in the same direction. A scowl twists Ash’s face.

Fine, take my spot. My leaf is still cooler than yours.

He scratches the image of the oak leaf into his paper with great precision, producing a perfect carbon copy. At last minute, he decides to add another, smaller leaf next to it and sets off in search of another perfect specimen.

He stops when he hears voices, peaking around a thick pine to investigate.

“Just press down on the paper a little harder. Don’t worry, you won’t hurt it. There. See, you did it!”

Papa stands next to Blair Ingham, guiding his hand over the rough bark of a maple tree. Ash scowls. That’s my Papa. He folds up his completed rubbing, shoving it into his back pocket and saunters over to his dad.

He tugs on Peeta’s sleeve. “Papa, I need help too.”

“Well now, there’s enough to go around for everyone.”

-

On the trip back to school, Ash sits perched on Papa’s shoulders, tasked with the job of swatting branches out of the way.

“You know, it’s funny. After I showed you how to make the leaf rubbings, I found a paper laying on the ground. Looked like someone was trying to throw it out. And you know we don’t litter in the forest.”

“Oh?” Ash looks down at the top of his father’s head.

“So I took a peak at whose it might be so I could have a talk with the culprit, and wouldn’t you know, it was a perfect leaf rubbing. Now, tell me why somebody would want to get rid of their school assignment?”

Ash feels like cheeks burn. “No clue.”

“Really? Because, if my memory serves me right, I believe I saw the name Ash Mellark on the bottom corner.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s a trip that Willow has been dreading for the last two weeks.

Not to say that she doesn’t want to visit the Justice Hall, it’s just that, well.. when your parents are who they are, it just doesn’t sit right.

They started learning about the Games in school this year. She’d be of reaping age as of last month if they still existed. A shudder runs through her. Then, a sudden wave of sadness. She’s surprised her mother and father agreed to chaperone this trip, but if they have any qualms about doing so they hide it well.

Papa meets her out front of the school, hands dug deep into his pockets. “Your mother isn’t feeling well today. Ah, River Cardwell’s mom stepped up as an emergency volunteer.”

She takes a minute to study her father.

His eyes are ringed red, his cheeks splotchy. His hair is rather unruly this morning as well and a quick peak shows her he’s even forgone one shoe, the shiny metal of his artificial leg catching the afternoon light.

“Papa, are you sure you want to go on this trip?”

“I’m fine, Catkin. This place isn’t what it used to be. The last few times I was here were rather happy occasions, actually. It’s just.. hard to shake old memories sometimes.”

She curls her arm around Peeta’s waist, pressing into his side. “Will you and Mama ever tell us about...” she trails off, unable to say the words. She’s caught glimpses of their past, enough to get a general idea--it’s hard not to when your parents’ photos are printed in the margins of your textbooks--but they don’t talk about any of it, save for brief asides every now and then.

“One day.”

They walk silently wish the rest of her class towards the gray stone building in the center of town.

She’d once heard her mother call it a place of sadness, but today it is a rather ordinary looking front. Gray steps lead up to a glass door, pristine white tile shining from the inside. She pushes the door open.

A gust of frigid air sweeps out with a soft sigh and Willow shivers.

Mrs. Dalley passes out folders and pencils and clears her throat. “This Justice Hall was constructed the year after The Second Rebellion ended. In the pre-war days, it was where children said goodbye to their families after being Reaped.”

Willow turns to Papa. “Were you scared?”

He looks down, nodding. “I was. But not for the reasons you’d think.”

She peers up at him through long, dark lashes. “Was it because of Mama?”

“You’re a smart girl.” He chuckles. “By the time Effie called my name, nothing mattered anymore. Katniss was already standing up on that stage. I knew that I had to die, because if I lived it meant she wouldn’t. In a matter of seconds I’d already accepted my death.”

She feels tears pricking the corners of her eyes at his words. “But they let both of you live.”

“Well, yes, but no.”

Before she can ask another question, she’s being ushered down one of the long corridors.

“This is the Hall of Records. Here is where we keep..”

-

She’s completely exhausted by the time the day is over and ready to flop into bed, but before she can make a beeline to her bedroom, she’s startled by Mama pulling open the front door.

“Willow.”

If Papa looked worse for wear this morning, then she’s... well, a disaster.

“Come inside.”

Nervous, she steps through the threshold, noting the strange quietness of the home. Usually, Ash is antagonizing one of the cats by now, or Papa is clanking around in the kitchen.

“Where’s everyone else at?”

Mama doesn’t answer, instead reaching up on top of the creaky old bookshelf in the corner, feeling around a minute for something. Finally, she pulls down a large, dusty rectangle, blowing it off. She sets it down on the kitchen table and turns to her daughter.

“I haven’t written in here in a very long time.” Mama pulls the scarf she wears tighter around her neck. “I think it’s time for you to read it.”

Willow steps closer, peeking down at the worn leather cover.

“Memory Book”

----------------------------------------------------------------

Ash cranes his neck, searching for his mother through the crowd in front of the factory.

When he spots her, he pushes his way through the snickering kids, coughing “Mama’s boy” his way. He blushes, staring at the ground the entire time.

“Your Aunt Prim would’ve loved to have seen it,” she remarks, peering up at the four story monstrosity. Despite being constructed well over twenty years ago, she’s never actually visited the place. Until now.

“Willow talks about her sometimes,” Ash says, drawing a line in the dirt with his foot. “Almost like she knows her.”

“Prim would’ve loved you both. Spoiled you, even.” Mama treks inside, following the other groups of kids. She stops short, darting her eyes in every direction. “Wow. District of healing, alright.”

Ash follows her gaze. Tall machines whir and buzz, moving at a rapid rate. They dispense colorful pills and liquids faster than he can keep up with. A conveyor belt moves bottles from one end of the factory to another, quick hands slapping labels on and pushing them into boxes for shipment.

“It’s definitely a sight to see.”

Mama nods in agreement. They walk together, gasping and oohing as new sights emerge.

“Will you tell me about her?” Ash glances at his mother.

“She was smart,” she starts, running her finger along the glass partition between them and the great big machines running the factory. “Smarter than me, anyways. She was going to be a doctor. She was a great healer. I could never stand the sight of our mama’s patients on the table. But Prim? She could stitch any wound there was and not bat an eye.”

They stop suddenly, staring into some kind of testing room. People in strange rubber suits mill about on the other side of the glass, and Ash thinks they look a bit crazy with those fishbowls on their heads.

He spies a man in a white coat behind them through their reflection in the window. “We’ve been testing a new antidote for tracker jacker venom. I think this might be our big break.”

Mama shudders, turning away from the man.

They resume walking. Ash watches with fascination as a large roll of white bandaging is stretched and cut in one smooth movement.

“Prim always wore a ribbon in her hair. She tried to get me to wear one too, once, but I told her it was impractical. Can’t have it coming loose and stuck on the fence or a branch. I wish I would’ve just let her do it. Ash?”

He turns to Katniss. He no longer has to look up at her; he’s quickly surpassing her in height thanks to inheriting his father’s build. “Yes?”

“You and your sister be good to each other.”

-

They break for lunch around noon, propped up against the shady wayward side of the factory. Mama pulls out two sandwiches, turkey on rye, and passes one to Ash.

They eat in silence, listening to the zooming of hovercrafts here to transport the most critical medications and supplies to the big hospitals in other districts. Like the one that Grandma Everdeen works in.

“I think I might like to be a healer. Like Prim, and grandma.”

“You’re so much like her,” Katniss sighs. “C’mere.”

Before he can protest, she’s pulling him towards her, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head atop his. She leans in, whispering in his ear. “Now you know I don’t condone violence, but if those boys are still giving you trouble, stick rats in their lockers. That’ll have ‘em pissing themselves.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s a two day train ride to the memorial site.

Every graduating class for the past ten years has been required to visit one, and even though she’s known it was coming for a while, Willow still shakes the entire way.

Mama isn’t faring any better. She carries a length of rope with her, knotting and twisting until her palms bloom pink. She doesn’t sleep, instead sitting frozen, staring out the window for hours. Papa doesn’t even leave his compartment.

There’s a lump in Willow’s throat because this isn’t just any random dismantled arena-turned-tourist attraction-turned memorial; it’s the one from the 75th Games.

When she’d told her parents which arena had been selected for this year’s trip, Mama had simply nodded, got up, and walked into the woods. She didn’t come back for three days.

Papa gripped the back of a kitchen chair, shaking. When Willow tried to comfort him, he spat, holding his hand out to stop her, telling her to take her brother and stay with Uncle Haymitch for a few days. They ended up having to stay for a week.

She still doesn’t know the full story, really. She knows more than she did all those years ago, but refuses to watch any tapes from the Games, and still gets sick trying to read more than a few sparse details. She knows her parents pretended to be in love to appease the Capitol clowns that held the guns to their heads. She knows they eventually grew to love each other for real.

She knows nearly everyone they loved is dead.

She doesn’t think she wants to know every detail after all.

-

When the train pulls into the station, Willow gets up on unsteady legs.

Papa leaves his compartment for the first time with a distant look in his eyes. He shambles straight to Mama, whispering something in her ear, pulling her to her feet. Their hands are grasped so tightly in one another’s that Willow can see the fingernail indents from here.

From a distance, it looks like it could be any other nature park. There’s a fountain in the middle, a winding, paved trail, a crumpled piece of metal that could be easily mistaken for contemporary art.

A short, stout woman meets the group at the opening gates.

“Welcome, welcome! I’ll be your guide today.”

She’s far too cheery for the occasion, and Willow supposes she’s a bit like Effie Trinket in that regard (at least, from what she can piece together from her parents’ memory of her).

They’re lead first to a low stone wall, and WIllow’s eyes fall across the names. Her mouth goes dry as she finds some she recognizes. Finnick Odair. Johanna Mason.

Katniss Everdeen.

Peeta Mellark.

“These are the names of every tribute who went into this arena. Every person who was forced to fight in the last Hunger Games our nation ever had to witness. Oh, heavens, I was still in diapers at the time.” Their guide dabs at her eyes.

Willow dares sneak a glance at Mama and Papa. They stare straight ahead, silent tears falling down their faces.

She follows the group next to the mangled pile of steel she’d seen from the train.

“Now, this is all that’s left of the arena now. The rest has been recycled and put to better use. As you may know, this one was a remarkable failure for the game makers and actually helped jump start the revolution. An electrical short sparked a fire that brought the entire thing down--”

“Actually, that’s not what happened.”

Willow snaps her neck around towards Mama’s voice.

“Oh, dear, have you kids not read your history books? Everybody knows tha--”

Mama pushes to the front of the group, Papa trailing behind her. “That’s not how it happened,” she repeats.

She turns now, gripping Papa’s arm as she faces the class. Her voice raises.

“My name is, was, Katniss Everdeen. I’m fifty-one years old. And I survived the 75th Hunger Games.”

Willow can’t hide the shock that crosses her face. A few stray groups turn towards the commotion.

Her parents are a far cry from the photos in the history books now. Lines age their faces, they sport twin stripes of gray in their hair. But underneath it all, they still have the same fire in their eyes. Determination.

“My name is Peeta Mellark. I survived the 75th Hunger Games. This is our story.”

And the words tumble free.

[marinaaniseed]

Hotwax

Song: Hotwax from the album Odelay by Beck.

Summary: Scott's’ pleasantly surprised to see you at Tony’s costume party.

Pairing: Female reader x Scott Lang

Length: 1,499 words

A/N: Drink, drugs, bit o’ smut. This one went a bit weird. See here for what this is all about.

***

For some reason, Tony decided to throw a costume party where everybody dressed up as another hero.

Sam’s in a red wig, pretending to be Nat. Nat’s wandering around, wielding a toy Mjölnir. Thor convinced Tony to build him a suit, although Tony refused to put any fancy gadgets in it, because he doesn’t want to be responsible for that, not after the last party.

Scott had gone into full fanboy mode when he’d gotten the invite, which is why he’s spending Saturday night in the captain's clothes.

It’s his only chance to be Captain America, he wasn’t going to pass that up. He wishes he’d thought it through though. Cap’s a lot bigger than him, so the sleeves keep flopping down over his hands, the crotch of the suit is by his knees, and he’s had to roll up the bottoms of the trousers so that he doesn’t walk on them.

Plus, the shield is a lot heavier than he was expecting. Still, it was nice of Cap to lend him his stuff, even if Scott now feels very silly sitting in the kitchen watching everyone milling about around him. Perching on a bar stool where he could still reach drinks was definitely the best plan.

He knows he’s drinking too much, too quickly, but it’s just nerves. He doesn’t know anyone particularly well, and it’s even more confusing now that everyone is dressed as each other. Some of the costumes are better than others and he has to do a double take occasionally just to make sure exactly who it is who’s come over to the bar.

Clint - also dressed as Nat, but fully made up and squeezed into her tac suit with the zipper pulled down, at Nat’s own insistence really confused Scott.

Not that he should be surprised. Of course Nat would help her best friend do a good job of impersonating her.

“Wanna smoke some grass?” Clint had offered, and it’s only his voice that made Scott realise it’s not the real Nat.

“No, I’m good thanks,” he notes, not wanting to get up and shuffle awkwardly around in Cap’s clothes.

“You don’t have to behave like Cap, just because you’re dressed like him,” Clint teases. “Are you sure you’re good?”

Scott just gives him a goofy grin and a thumbs up. Getting a little stoned would probably be good for him right now, but he doesn’t want to explain his costume problems.

Tony gets the karaoke machine set up, and Scott swivels round to watch as T’Challa takes the mic to kick things off with a Beck number. He’d told Scott earlier how much he’s enjoying American music now that he’s been spending time at the Wakandan outreach centre in Oakland. They’d made vague plans for Scott to visit the centre at some point, given how close it was to him. But the amount T’Challa is enjoying singing along to his new favourite, Beck, is nowhere near as much as Sam is enjoying the fact that T’Challa chose to come to the party dressed as him.

“An actual king dressed as me, so clearly I’m better than all of y’all,” Sam calls out when T’Challa’s finished.

“Hey, there’s a god dressed as me,” Tony argues, getting up to take the mic from T’Challa. Tony’s also dressed as Cap, except his costume was made to fit, making Scott groan a little and reach for another bottle.

He almost spills it down him when Pepper taps him on the shoulder. He swivels round to face her, almost choking on his drink when he sees who’s next to her.

“Scott, I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of Stark Industries. This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Scott,” she says before leaving the two of you alone.

It’s not just that you’re stunning and sexy that has Scott coughing violently, it’s your costume.

“Y-you-you’re me,” he eventually splutters. You’re the only Antman he’s seen at the whole party, and in all honesty, he wasn’t expecting to see any.

“Yeah, I wanted to dress as my favourite,” you explain shyly.

“Me too,” Scott enthuses, before fully processing what you’ve said. “Wait. I’m your favourite?”

“Of course! I mean, the hacking thing was super cool. That’s my area of expertise, actually. I’m here as an ethical hacker to test any weaknesses in the Stark systems. And you explore the quantum realm, which sounds really interesting. And,” you lean in to whisper in Scott’s ear, “you’re definitely the most attractive.”

Scott’s face is blushing so hard, it’s definitely putting the red into red, white and blue. How could you think he was the most attractive when there’s a literal god in the room?

“I should get going,” you say, pulling away, worried that you’ve made things awkward.

“No, wait,” Scott says, grabbing your wrist. “I’m just shocked and flattered. There are so many cooler, sexier people here, and you think I’m the best?”

You nod, chewing your lip.

“Well, I think you’re the best. Apart from Cap. But he dressed as Thor, and you dressed as me, so that makes you better than him, in turns of costumes, and I’m just going to stop talking.”

Scott wishes he could talk to you without seeming like a gibbering idiot, but you stand there smiling at him.

“Just a question,” you say, “but couldn’t you grow a little so that Cap’s suit fit you better?”

“I honestly didn’t think to wear my suit underneath,” Scott admits. That would’ve been a good idea though.

“We could go back to your room and get it?” you suggest, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Or just go back to your room?”

It’s worth a shot. You can see by how he’s reacting to you that he’s interested as well, and who knows when he’ll be in New York next.

Scott’s lost for words. He can’t believe that you’re propositioning him. Slipping down from the stool, he shyly offers his hand to you, even though it’s covered by the sleeve of Cap’s suit. Relief washes through him when you slip your hand into his, letting him lead the way to his room.

“An excellent union, Man of Ants,” Thor booms across the party as you’re about to leave.

Scott tries to hurry out of the door, to get away from all the shouting and cheering, succeeding in tripping over the bottoms of Cap’s trousers and falling flat on his face.

“Are you ok?” you ask, helping him up.

“Face is a little sore, think my pride is more damaged though,” Scott admits, utterly embarrassed.

“Here, let me kiss it better,” you reply, moving Scott back against the wall, kissing his lips eagerly and reaching a hand up to run through his hair.

“Good god,” he gasps when you pull away. He’s never been kissed quite like that before, with a gentle enthusiasm that leaves him groaning for more. He hitches the trousers up to his thighs, taking your hand again and almost dragging you to his room. It feels like the longest walk of his life, even though it’s only five minutes.

The two of you lurch through the door, slamming it shut behind you. There’s a race to get out of your respective costumes before Scott stops abruptly, suddenly self-conscious in his underwear.

“Are you sure? I mean it’s not too late to go back to the party?” he asks, wrapping an arm around himself.

“Absolutely sure,” you answer with a smile, and it’s the most beautiful thing, apart from Cassie, that he’s ever seen.

Scott exhales shakily as you sink to your knees in front of him, soft carpet against your bare skin.

“May I?” you ask as your fingers reach out for the waistband of his underwear.

“Y-yeah.”

He’s already half-hard and the way you’re licking up and down his shaft, lapping around his sensitive head has his legs shaking violently.

“Sit down, Scott, before you fall down,” you say with a smile, and he shuffles backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed frame and he falls backwards with a small cry.

You climb on top of him, leaning down so that your breath is tickling his ear.

“Would you like me like this?” you whisper.

“Oh my god, yes,” Scott huffs out, hardly able to believe his luck.

You get back up and find your handbag, discarded in the pile of clothes. You rummage through until you find your purse, with the condom you keep just in case.

Scott’s glad you thought of that, because he didn’t want to have to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. where to find one.

Opening the packet, you roll it down onto Scott’s erection. For a miniature sized hero, there’s nothing miniature about this part of him.

Easing down onto him, Scott begins to thrust up into you. He hopes to be invited to a lot more of Stark’s parties if you’ll be at them too.

[anuknowha]

Guardian Angel

Title: Guardian Angel.

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Michael  Langdon x Reader

Rating: R

Word Count:   1,726 

Characters: 9,326         W/o spaces: 7,628

Michael had been your guardian angel since you were little, but had left you at the start of middle school. What happens when he returns to your college dorm unannounced?

It all started with him, Michael Langdon, the newly assigned guardian angel to a beautiful baby girl. This was his first assignment, and he was nonetheless excited that God, himself had sent him down to earth with such an interesting and long term task.

As you grew up he watched you from afar. His blue eyes would follow your every move, your every breath, and it would be most enjoyable.

There were times when you got hurt as a young girl, and he would appear in front of you, almost like a ghost, and wipe away your tears. You would tell your mother about him and she would shake it off as one of your stories, as your imaginary friends. You never did believe that that was the case, you always felt he was real. And as years went on, you began to feel that maybe, she was right.

By the time you had hit your early teens, his visits, his blessings seemed almost incomprehensible, as if he never existed in the first place. When he stopped appearing, you became upset, sad, heartbroken, he was your only friend, for what seemed like forever. But it seemed like as you got older, you didn’t need him anymore, and he had been taken back to heaven and assigned to another boy or girl that was now blessed with a new life.

Everyday, you would find yourself thinking about him, how you would play games together. How he would hold your hand when you were afraid and lead you in the right directions in life. For the longest, it worked, until you got to high school. Your life became more of a mess. People were different, drinking, smoking, and you stood out like a sore thumb.

It made you uncomfortable to be in such an environment where people looked at you as some kind of outcast. It was strange, but it was something you couldn’t ignore. It was a huge difference from what you use to know, middle school, and elementary school wasn’t even as bad. Sure there were fights and kids pretending to be like their “cooler” older siblings, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t handle. It wasn’t something that you were to worry much about, especially with him on your side.

It actually shook your nerves, you were afraid and upset, you went through high school alone. You had a hard time making friends because most of them were delinquents and others were just uninterested in a person such as you. Although it didn’t affect you much mentally, it still left a damper on your experiences through the process. Good grades, good motives, and top of your class is how you managed to graduate, but you had to say, it was if sometimes, they hadn’t tried at all.

Now in your 20’s you still had no sign of him, but you still were receiving your blessings. In your sophmore year in college, you were running around. A job and school work were books that were being balanced on your head on a daily basis.

It was a handful, but you managed to pull yourself through it.

One night, you were sitting at your desk, writing a paper that was due in the morning when you heard a voice.

“Y/N?”

You looked around the room, not seeing a thing. It frightened you, but you still kept looking. After scanning the rest of the room you return your focus to your desk.

You scream.

A blonde haired man was sitting atop your desk, wearing an all white suit, and black tie. His hair was long, past his shoulders and blonde. Behind him were his wings, brighter than the day.

“Y/N its me. Its Michael, your guardian angel.” he states calmly.

You fell backwards out your chair. And luckily you didn't have a roommate so there was not much of a  worry for anyone to hear you. "Y/N?" He questioned with what seemed to be great concern. "Y-you're my guardian angel?" You stutter. "You don't remember me?" He stares, his eyes growing a feeling of sympathy. "I do." You rub your head and pull yourself to your feet. You pick up your chair as well and take a seat in it. "Sorry I've been gone for so long. It has been busy up in heaven. And I kept trying to get down here for you, to help out doing your most troublesome of years but it was hard." He sighs. "You've been gone for almost a decade." Jumping up you pull him into a hug. "Has it been that long? Time flies when you're in heaven. It only felt like a couple of months and I thought I'd be back even sooner than that. I apologize Y/N" Tears tugged at your eyes but you tried to hold them back. "I assure you that there's no reason to cry." Cradling your cheek in his hand he let displayed a soft smile. Michael let your soft tears find themselves on his palms. You could only hug him tighter as you feel his soft lips plant a kiss on your forehead. It was loving, and more comforting. You hadn't had this much interaction with anyone or anything since you got to college. It felt lonely, but you slowly grew accustomed to being alone. He lifted your chin and placed a kiss on your lips. You were taken aback. "God was also angry that I had gained feelings for you." You blushed. Kissing back slowly, not even questioning his advances. He pulls you close and slide his tongue in your mouth as he hopped down from the desk. Michael lifted you into his arms, your legs finding themselves wrapped around your waist as he moved you over to the bed. Your bed was small, but it still was quite a bit of room for the both of you to lay there comfortably. As your butt hit the soft sheets he let you go, and began kissing down your neck. Soft little plants of love extending to both of your shoulder blades as he began to take off your shirt. It was a button up and he took his time slowly letting this piece of fabric slide down your arms. "Just as beautiful as ever." He chuckled to himself. His hands found their way to both of your arms, sliding down them to grab your soft hands. He gripped them tightly, looking into your bright eyes, checking to see if you were okay continuing with him. A small nod was your response and he left a trail of blissful kisses down your arms, starting with the left and ending with your right wrist. In a few seconds he shifted your position. Lifting your legs up above your head so he could playfully take off your blue jeans. Suddenly, a sharp pain went through his head and he grunted. Michael found himself momentarily taken aback by the pain, flinching. "What's wrong Michael?" "I-I shouldn't be doing this..." He placed his hand on his head. You quickly embrace him. "You don't have to continue, its doing more harm than good." "But I want to make it up to you. I have to. I was gone for so long and this is what I learned... Its called makeup sex..." You couldn't help but almost chuckle at yourself, the thought of an angel saying that was just kind of adorable to you. "What appears to be so funny?" He raised a brow. "You're just so cute. And I love it." You say in a fit of giggles. Michael took your pillow and hit you with it as you only continued to laugh. And with that he covered your face with the pillow. "Hey!!" Within seconds the pillow was gone and had revealed Michael, before you, now completely nude. The sight brought your laughing to a halt and got you looking away trying to avoid eye contact with him. His body was beautiful, perfectly chiseled and not at all hairy. You had to admit that the heat between your legs started to only grow warmer as the large naked figure loomed over you. Leaning down to kiss you, Michael began to line himself up with your entrance but it felt like forever before he pushed himself inside. You realized he wasn't trying to be a tease but instead wanted to make sure you were okay. And you were, but he wasn't as he found a pain shoot through his head again. Nonetheless he kept pushing himself inside of you while low grunts were slipping through his teeth. "Michael..." You hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It'll be okay." And with those words he built up enough courage to start moving, bucking his hips towards yours at a steady rhythm. The bed rocked, which caused the floor to creak as the man above you thrusted himself in and out of your pussy. You moaned his name as he only let out small sounds of discomfort, not because of you, but because of God's messages telling him to stop. He continued to ignore them but you grew increasingly worried in the back of your mind. You could tell he was in pain for his thrusts became more sloppy as time went on. Eventually the thrusts were further apart, more hesitant as he was getting close, as if questioning if he wanted to continue. Increasingly reaching your high with every second passing by, you were able to stop yourself from losing all thoughts. "Michael you don't have to. You're hurting yourself please stop!" He doesn't listen and keeps moving, his cock almost sliding completely outside of you once but it didn't stop him. He kept going until he came inside you with a screech. You came as well but the expression on your face was mixed with both sadness and pleasure. Tears ran down Michael's face. He had collapsed on top of you, panting heavily. His blonde locks covered his gentle eyes as you felt his soft tears run on your body. You dare not push him off. He was quiet for a while, and that's when you noticed he was actually asleep. You stroked his hair and watched as the wings on his back wrapped themselves around you. "I love you Michael." You whisper to yourself.

Taglist: @sexy-monster-fucker @the-captain-kidd

Requested by: @wholockedcumberwumber

[womanoflettersinthebunker]

Dean hadn't been planned. 

When they had started this they were teenagers, hormones were at an all time high and quite honestly it had all been about sex and that was it. The thrill of the chase and the utter scandal of doing such a thing was the major driving force for them. 

Mary was unlike any woman he had ever known, not that he had known many. She was direct, to the point, and assertive, not afraid to take control and go after what she had wanted.

And what she had wanted, was him. 

Or more to the point the thing between his legs but he came along with it. 

They didn't try to pretend that it was anything else. They didn't have dates, they didn't have secret notes being passed to one another, letters being sent in code, or any real communication other than where they were and if the other was down to meet up in a motel room for some fun. 

Neither of them made any motion to make it anything else, they didn't want to or need to. John was busy studying for his initiation into the Men of Letters, something that took years for him to formally pass. Mary had been busy hunting everything that went bump in the night and if she ever had a problem she kept it to herself. 

They never talked about anything really, if Mary had gotten hurt on a hunt and it would prevent them from some sort of sexual activity she told him but other than that she never said a word. He kept his studies to himself and like the other Letters, didn't tell her anything about what artifacts they had or any sort of supernatural information. 

The only time they spent together was for sex, sometimes he ended up taking a shower as well, sometimes she'd join him in there for another round, but other than that once they were done he'd leave and go back to his own place to continue his studies and Mary would go off to do whatever it was she did. 

They never did the cuddling thing, they never spoke about anything else, never hinted at anything else between them that would create anything other than the sexual relationship that they were both a part of. 

He knew when it changed. It was after another time of sex and he had been putting his suit back on. He had gone to the mirror to properly make his tie when Mary had gotten up from the bed, the sheet wrapped around her naked body, and went to the radio to turn it on, the announcer of a football game narrating.

John paused, watching Mary sit down on the bed as she listened to the radio. His tongue felt like lead for a moment before he spoke. "Who's playing?"

Mary glanced at him, a bit surprised at the question, but answered. "Kansas Jayhawks vs. Washington State." she told him. "Right at home in Lawrence."

John slowly finished his tie and turned around. "You're from Lawrence?" he asked. It had been the longest conversation they've had since they started this. 

"Born, raised, and trained." Mary confirmed with a nod, laying down on the bed and turning onto her side so that she could look at him. "You?"

John hesitated, but there was no harm in answering, not like she'd figure out where the bunker really was. "Lebanon."

Mary smiled at that, it relaxed her and it made her look that much softer, John felt a small pang and warmth in his chest at the sight of it. "We're basically neighbors." she said. 

John absentmindedly tugged at his tie, it was suddenly a bit too tight on him, glancing at the radio. He did have some money riding on the game after all. "Mind if I stay and listen?"

Mary waved at the rest of the bed. "Feel free." she said. "I put down some bets earlier so I want to make sure that I know if I won or not."

John sat down on the edge of the bed, loosening his tie and leaning back against the headboard, all too aware of his shoes and clothes at the moment. "Who'd you bet for?"

Mary laughed. "You have to ask?" she teased. "Kansas State, all the way."

John laughed with her, smiling. "Me too."

"You're placing bets with the bookies?" Mary asked, raising an eyebrow, a mischievous smile on her face. "How naughty."

And that was the spark. They listened to the announcer, Mary pumped her fist into the air every time Kansas scored. At some point John ordered a pizza for them to share.

And they talked. They talked the entire time, learning new things about each other. 

They had a lot more in common than they first thought, they had similar tastes in music, movies, and books. Mary could hold her drinks easily, she pulled out a couple six packs from the cooler she brought in to add to the pizza, and they would tap their beers together when the team scored as well. 

Mary grinned widely when the final score was announced, 29-8, and she laughed in delight. "Looks like we won all around." she said, bringing her up to toast him before she downed it.

John laughed and did the same, feeling a pleasant buzz from the beer and the food. He placed the can on top of the empty box, unsure of what to do now. He didn't feel confident enough to drive back to his home and he couldn't leave the car here. He could go to the office and get his own room.

Mary answered it for him, she cleared the bed of its containers and fluffed it to get rid of any crumbs that were laying around. She raised an eyebrow at him. "You staying the night?" she asked. 

John worked his jaw from side to side. "Am I allowed?" he asked. 

Mary nodded, her gaze open and unguarded. There had been a shift, and he was sure that she had felt it too, but he was uncertain, he couldn't feel his footing anymore and had no idea how to react with this anymore. 

He undressed again, folding everything and putting them to the side until he got to his boxers and laid down on the bed. Mary turned the light off and got into the bed as well, staying on her side. Even in the dark of the night he could feel her eyes on him.

“Night John.” she told him softly. 

“Good night.” John said just as softly. “Mary.”

Things changed between them after that night, they got more...intimate. Intimate in a way that they hadn't before. It started with talking more, opening up more to her and her to him. She'd have a motel room and he started to bring food as well. He stayed the night more and more and would buy them breakfast in the morning.

He never really had a friend, not growing up and not now. There were other Men of Letters children that he would attend lessons with but other than that he nothing else. He found out that Mary was the same, hunting prevented her from being able to connect with the other children around her and later on, the hunters in her life weren't the type she wanted to be more than acquaintances with. 

They were semi dating, at least Mary teased him about it. They went out to bars at night, both of them were hustling for money. Mary played up the whole blonde, wide eyed innocent girl to a tee when she played pool and John played the cards the right way, enabling them to leave with their pockets heavier than when they came in. 

He started to look forward to it more and more, and not just the having sex part. He enjoyed their conversations, he enjoyed spending time with her, he enjoyed being with her plain and simple. 

But then everything changed. He came to the motel she called him and when he knocked on the door she answered, looking grave and distraught. 

"What's wrong?" John asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind him. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her tightly, feeling the knot get worse in his chest when she leaned into his chest and embrace. Mary was a touchy feely kind of girl but she never really sought comfort from him like this. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

He felt Mary swallow hard, she was even shaking slightly. Taking a deep breath she pulled away from his embrace enough to grab something from the table, handing it to him. 

He took the piece of plastic from her, feeling his stomach drop when he saw the small plus sign. 

He tried to do the right thing. He proposed right then and there, damn everything else. Damn his studying, damn his initiation, damn the Letters. If Mary was carrying his child he was going to marry her and not have a bastard child. 

Mary was the one that refused, getting that hard look in her voice and eyes that he had grown familiar with. She was the one to bring up the Letters and everything that he had worked for, refusing to budge no matter what he tried to argue with. She had no problem raising the child on her own, she had no problem being an unwed mother, she had always had a feeling that it was going to end up like that one way or another. 

He tried to argue, he tried to compromise, he tried to use everything that he had to make her budge and change her mind to no avail. Mary was the most stubborn person he knew and he wasn’t going to lie and say that it didn’t turn him on in a way. 

But she did compromise. She was planning on having the child and raising in on her own with her parents occasionally helping. He’d kept coming to her and the child in secret to try his best to help raise it to the best of his ability. It would be a ragtag team of parenting but to hell of it if John was going to be absent in his own child's life. 

Dean wasn’t a planned child. But he was damn well loved before he was even born.

[lana-b-bana]

What about the good Lana/Mary Eunice (innocent) for the 'send me a ship and I'll tell you thing' 🧐

Who hogs the duvet?

Lana. She has more nightmares than Mary, so she kicks the duvet around, and she sometimes wraps it around herself by accident. Lana also has a cooler body temperature than Mary, but she always takes it as an excuse to cuddle closer to her. 

Who texts/rings to check how their day is going?

Mary, always. She’s quite the worrier, especially when it comes to Lana. She only calls once a day, but she never wants to interrupt Lana, even though she insists that Mary call her. It’s a comfort to Lana, too. It’s been such a long time since someone cared about her, and the best parts of her day is when she gets a telephone and listens to Mary talk. She feels like she can breathe after their little check-in. 

Who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts?

Lana is, to Mary’s chagrin. Lana is always looking for something to surprise Mary; she gets her a rosary, knitting materials, books, a necklace when she gets paid, flowers, anything that would make Mary happy. Mary loves each and every one, but she prefers to make Lana food or knit her something. There’s always a little worry that she’s not worth spending money over, but Lana squashes that idea pretty quickly. 

Who gets up first in the morning?

Mary. She’s still used to the early routine at Briarcliff, but she also loves cooking breakfast and making coffee for Lana. Lana wakes up when she smells the food. 

Who suggests new things in bed?

Neither, really, they like to keep it vanilla or else one of them would have a panic attack, but Lana suggests new positions from time to time. 

Who cries at movies?

Mary. If it’s a romantic movie, Mary cries at a particularly swoon-worthy line and at a sad movie, she always cries at the end. Lana rolls her eyes but always comforts Mary. (There are tears in her eyes when the dog dies, though.)

Who gives unprompted massages?

Mary. She can always see how tense Lana is after work or if she spends too much time at her desk, writing. When Lana feels Mary’s hands, she knows it’s time for a break. 

Who fusses over the other when they’re sick?

Both. Mary knows Lana would never take care of herself properly, so she insists that she gets some rest. Mary always denies that she’s sick—it’s a bad habit—so Lana has to boss her around. 

Who gets jealous easiest?

Both. They don’t get jealous, they can insecure. Mary is well aware of how famous Lana is and it’s a mystery to her how Lana loves someone like, well, Mary. Lana is always worried Mary would leave her because Mary is pure and good, and she deserves to be with someone … healed. They both think each other’s worries are the dumbest thing they’ve ever heard. 

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music?

Neither, their music tastes aren’t embarrassing.

Who collects something unusual?

Mary. She would probably collect things like seashells or pretty rocks, which Lana finds adorable. 

Who takes the longest to get ready?

Usually Lana. Due to her newfound fame, she has to be perfectly-dressed to every occasion, which she hates. Mary, though, likes to look nice and spends a lot of her morning in the bathroom, getting ready.

Who is the tidiest and organized?

Mary. For a famous writer, Lana has so many misplaced papers and important items that she’s given up on finding half of them. Mary quietly shuffles her papers in order and leaves Lana’s things on the front desk, which Lana always kisses her and thanks her for. 

Who gets most excited about the holidays?

Mary, because she loves to cook and spend time with Lana. The holidays make their time together more special.

Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

They switch often, actually. Whoever needs the most comforting is the little spoon, but usually Lana is the big spoon. Mary loves feeling safe and being held by Lana.

Who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports?

Neither because Lana always lets Mary win.

Who starts the most arguments?

Lana. She doesn’t try to, but Mary is easily steamrolled. They’re not really arguments, just Lana talking with a raised voice because she’s worried about Mary. Lana is also susceptible to snapping at Mary, but their arguments die out if one of them starts crying. 

Who suggests that they buy a pet?

Mary. She says it as a joke when Lana has to leave for work, even though she knows Lana hates pets. But a couple weeks later, Lana brings home a dog—“Mary, angel, are you sure we can’t have a cat? They’re much quieter”—much to Mary’s surprise. 

What couple traditions do they have?

One tradition they have is going to the park every week to find a quiet spot. They can’t be affectionate as they want, but for a while, they can pretend they’re just two normal people. 

Another tradition they have is writing letters to each other. After Lana became famous, her hours with Mary were cut short. In response to that, Lana wrote long letters to Mary, somehow finding her journalistic prose becoming poetry as she talks about Mary and how much she loves her as if she won’t be reading her letter. Mary always cries after she finds them lying around the house. 

What tv shows do they watch together?

They don’t have shows they like to watch—they just watch whatever’s on. 

What other couple do they hang out with?

They don’t have many other friends, but they do enjoy talking to Kit and his wife. 

How do they spend time together as a couple?

They spend all their time together when they’re home. They both watch T.V., they read together, they talk, and sometimes they sit in companionable silence. If they could, they would go outside more. 

Who made the first move?

Lana. Both of them are shy and oblivious, but Lana has the experience to know that this wasn’t a simple crush. Mary valued their friendship too much to do anything about their romance, so Lana decided fuck it, she was going to confess. 

Who brings flowers home?

Lana. I think she goes in and out of their house frequently—for groceries, work, and errands—so if she has the time, she’ll buy some flowers. She never does it to butter Mary up; the only motivation she has is to make Mary happy. Mary gets a cute blush on her face—which Lana comments on—because no one’s done such a thoughtful act for her before. She can’t help but squeal and kiss Lana many times. 

Who is the best cook?

Mary. Lana cannot cook to save her life—they both know it. Mary has plenty of experience cooking and she can make a variety of dishes, all of which Lana loves. 

Thanks for the ask! Send me a ship!