#to keep her and her actual boyfriend out of jail

[they-thespian666]

I HATE NEEDLESS ROMANTIC DRAMA!!!!!!!!!!!

[todayisafridaynight]

Tsuma is an INSANE one to start on but also a fantastic one... I think my first was SP so it's so funny we've "traded" those specific shows lmao BUT YEAH. YEAH. I BELIEVE YOU. I'M GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT KEISUKE BUT NOT ANYTIME SOON. Tsutsumi's Princess Peach lips every time Maida squishes his face 😭😭😭😭😭

The moment outside the school basically condenses everything about the show for me it's so perfect and cute but I'm INTERNALLY SCREAMING AT ALL OF THIS BEING SAID OUT LOUD... PLEASE... YOU'RE GOING TO END UP ANOTHER IMPRISONED TSUTSUMI... He really is SUCH a malewife though that's what destroyed me frame one... especially because he's really similar to how Tsutsumi talks about himself so like perfect casting I hope he had fun with the role... Definitely continuing when I can are you kiddinggggg

Well Hopefully You Still Think AtR's Cute And/Or Sweet Wherever You're At Now So The Rest Of This Isn't Embarrassing LGSKFJLGJ BUT YEAH... YEAH... I'm aro myself so all that's Complicated right, and definitely something I tried to consider when Sorta-Not-Really-Recommending, but it's good to hear it can be entertaining even without being able to relate :']

THAT COULD'VE GONE /WAY/ SOUTH AT THE PANEL but I'm glad everyone made it out unharmed😭😭😭BUT YEAH... at the end of the Ohashi arc when Ogata threw all his stuff off the desk and the gang just wordlessly put it back for him 'cause that's all they can do... ough. Momence. That's why it was so sick watching everything fall into place [temporarily]. Also appreciate the Jo-ism in doing all the dirty work for a politician in the family and wanting to be stopped without saying it upfront and uhhhhh being fine with dying and/or going to prison LMAO

OH BUT NO PROB it is always tradition for me to send the translated letter once I've indoctrinated someone new :] funny thing is every single version I've sent is different because I've been editing it to this day

AGAIN i chose tsuma cause the title was Utterly Insane and i just had to see for myself what the fuck was going on and im so glad i did... funny that we did trade first-watches (and fun that i get 'my own version' of ogata's letter lmao) :)

BUT YEAHYEAH keisuke's adorable.. like genuinely i think he's tsutsumi's cutest role ive seen so far its hard for me to imagine one topping it in regards to how endearing he is (❁´◡`❁) keisuke being so enamored by his wife but being So Blind To How Things Look is genuinely super funny. like poor guy really is just super happy to have his wife back in a way but not yk (╯▽╰;;; )

Horribly i think of okita from that Taboo movie when it comes to consuming media: even if i dont personally have that experience or understand 100%, i can still appreciate a good story and characters (im paraphrasing SO hard and with less homophobia </3), so if you got anythin good throw it my way anytime ♪(´▽｀) !! i'm about to start episode eight in a bit but NO WORRIES i still very much am a fan of the show !! and im sad/excited to see im almost done with it ( sad its almost over, but also SUPER interested to see how everything comes together in the end (☆▽☆) )

[rcmclachlan]

Relative Value (buck/tommy)

"And I feel for her, you know? I really do. The dissolution of a relationship, especially a marriage, feels like you're drowning in hot tar, and you spend every waking moment kicking your way to the surface to try and breathe. But if she brings up her divorce again while I'm in the middle of peeing? I'm going to divorce her head from her body."

Buck makes a face at the thought of Maddie's decapitated coworker. "Please don't send the 118 to that scene. I'm not so great with entrails these days. Send the 147—they deserve it after they botched that extrication on Monday." 

Maddie laughs, the sound tinny but comfortingly familiar coming through his phone's speakers. She'd propped her phone on Jee-Yun's dresser halfway through the call so she could put away laundry while she talked, and for the last five minutes he's been watching her fold Jee's clothes like she's being judged at the Olympics. 

It's nice to see that hasn't changed. Maddie should've been in jail years ago for the way she loads a dishwasher, but when it comes to laundry she's a goddamn wizard. When he was younger, his parents saddled him with taking out the trash and doing the dishes, but putting away the laundry was always Maddie's chore. She actually enjoyed it, the weirdo. She used to tell him the first whiff of warm Snuggle right out of the dryer was a cure-all. Also, she can fold a fitted sheet in under ten seconds. He'd timed her once.

Maddie takes an eye-wateringly orange shirt out of the laundry basket and with three decisive motions turns it into a perfect rectangle. If Jee ever decides she wants to go deer hunting, she'll be all set. "Since when are you not good with entrails?" 

"Since that guy was ripped in half last week."

It'd easily been the grizzliest car crash he'd ever been called to. It made the 405 pileup a few years back look like Disney on Ice. About halfway through tagging and bagging almost a dozen casualties strewn all over the westbound lanes of the Pomona Freeway, the guy responsible for the crash snapped awake while Hen and Chimney were setting up and drove off in a panic. The top-half of the motorist stuck under his car was dragged maybe sixty feet, and Buck had a front row seat to the sight of the poor guy's nerves and vasculature trailing behind him like squid tentacles before the driver came to a stop by hitting yet another car. 

"I'm also not eating spaghetti for the foreseeable future, FYI," he adds.

Maddie wrinkles her nose. "Okay, changing the subject: when do you leave again?"

It wouldn't be an overstatement to say the smile that question invokes explodes over his face. He feels it happen; the spark eats the fuse so quickly there's barely any lead-up and his cheeks burn from the sheer magnitude of the blast. 

"You look deranged," Maddie says, laughing.

"I feel deranged." He's been like this all week and it's starting to scare everyone. Chimney keeps leaving pamphlets for Clozaril in his locker. "Tomorrow morning. We're picking up the bird right after we do a coffee run."

"I wish my boyfriend was whisking me away to the mountains for a romantic getaway." Maddie heaves a theatrical sigh. "My husband says the best he can do is Shake Shack."

The whole thing is absolutely bonkers. He'd been minding his own business, half-watching a documentary about volcanoes with his feet in Tommy's lap, when they showed some insanely beautiful footage of Mount Rainier. And although his mind was focused on completing level 29 of Euclidea, his mouth was busy saying, "I've always wanted to go there." 

Thumb digging into Buck's instep, Tommy had made a thoughtful sound and said, "I'd tapped a buddy of mine to get us into Griffith Observatory after hours, but I like your idea way better. Let's do it."

If someone had told Buck 1.0 that someday a beast of a man would be flying him by helicopter to the Cascades for their two-year anniversary, he would've laughed his way into a pneumothorax. And then he would've tried to fuck his nurse. 

He looks across the living room to where their bags have been sitting, fully packed, since last night, and grins. "Tell Chim he needs to step up his game. You're worth Zankou, at least."

Maddie snorts. "Gee, thanks."

Behind her, there's unexpected movement, and every muscle in his body locks up as his heart stops in a moment of brief, blinding terror. 

It's stupid to feel this way after seven years, but a little part of him is still waiting for Doug to crawl out of the shadows like a wraith to finish what he tried to do. He's spent many a sleepless night spiraling to the soundtrack of Chimney's desperate, Do you know he's dead for sure? Did you see a body?

Buck did see his body, but a little voice sometimes whispers to him from some deep, dark place at two in the morning: it was freezing that day. It could've slowed the bleeding, could've kept him alive long enough to go to a hospital. You don't know what happened after the ambulance left with him. What if he survived? What if he's out there right now, just biding his time?

Which are bad and ridiculous thoughts to have because he knows that monster is dead, and frankly he's got better things to think about than Doug, who's absolutely having his skin torn off in hell right now—especially since his adorable, perfect niece is the one who came into the room. 

"Say hi to your uncle, Jee," Maddie says, smiling. In her hands, a pair of polka dot leggings becomes a polka dot brick with hospital corners. 

Jee-Yun jumps a little like she can't quite see him, and Maddie goes over to the dresser to obligingly tilt the camera down. 

"Hi, Uncle Buck." Jee-Yun waves, then rises an inch or two higher in the frame, and he realizes she's standing on her tiptoes. She cranes her head, moving it a bit from side to side like she's looking for something. After a few seconds, she drops back down, grimacing in disappointment.

He looks over his shoulder, but no one's there. "Sorry, kiddo, it's just me."

"Just you is fine, always," Maddie immediately pipes up, and he ducks his head with a smile. It's always nice to hear her say that. "It's just that… well, she had a question and we weren't sure if you were the one we should be asking."

Buck grins. "Lay it on me, Jee."

It's always a little hilarious to watch how Jee reacts when the spotlight's on her. She bounces and twirls a little, and her whale-spout pigtails move with her. For someone getting ready to enter kindergarten, she's got the stage presence of a Broadway star. "Uncle Buck, how do airplanes fly when they're so big and heavy?"

He opens his mouth to answer her, but there's nothing there, just an empty pocket of air that tastes vaguely like the ham sandwich he had for lunch. He closes his mouth with a click, stymied. He could've sworn he knew this one. Something about lift and drag?

"Jee, I-I'm sorry. I don't know off the top of my head. I could look it up for you?"

A little groan escapes her, but it turns into a shriek when a tie-dyed sweatshirt comes winging from off-camera and lands on her head. Jee wrestles the shirt away, static making her hair cling to her face, which she swipes with a whine. 

"That's why I wanted to ask Uncle Tommy!"

Buck has forgotten a lot about the tsunami. Time has softened the memory of how warm the water was, how it shoved its way into his mouth and nostrils like it was trying to find a way inside his veins, and that it was filled with so much debris it scored the insides of his cheeks bloody. But the one thing he never lost was how his feet went out from under him when that first wave hit like a freight train. He hasn't been able to ride a roller coaster since: he doesn't see the need to pay to experience the feeling of free fall again. He remembers every second of it like it just happened. 

He may be sitting on the couch with his feet firmly on the floor, but his stomach is thrilling at the familiar sensation of being completely unmoored. Only instead of being dragged into the dark, he's being pulled up into endless blue. 

Breathless with stratospheric joy, he digs his trembling fingers into his knees like it's going to do anything to keep him grounded, and chokes out, "Who, Jee?"

The look Jee turns on the camera is so confused that Buck isn't sure he was even using real words just then. It could've been a jumble of sounds falling from his mouth like aquarium gravel. 

"Uncle Tommy," Jee says, with the patient air of someone who forgot they were talking to an idiot. "It's okay if you don't know about airplanes, Uncle Buck. You drive fire trucks."

He's pretty sure he was just insulted. Behind Jee, Maddie's wide-eyed and mouthing an ecstatic oh my god! 

"Tell you what. When—" he swallows thickly, overcome "—Uncle Tommy wakes up from his nap, I'll have him call you and he can tell you all about how planes stay up in the air."

She mulls it over, and he can see the outline of her tongue poking the inside of her cheek like she's swishing the offer around in her mouth. Finally, she gives him two decisive nods of her head that has her pigtails bouncing. "Okay. When's that?"

"I-I don't know. Soon." If the lightning had struck a few feet away from him instead of dead-on, he thinks it would've felt like this. Any second now he's going to vibrate out of his skin and scar Jee for life. "Maybe I should go check on him." 

"I think that's a good idea," Maddie says cheerfully, coming into the foreground. Her eyes are glossy and red, and even with two screens and several miles between them it feels like she's about to wrap him up in the warmest hug. "Why don't we let you go for now? Uncle Tommy can give us a buzz later."

"Yeah, t-that sounds like a plan." He knows he's rocking the deranged look again, except it's somehow so much worse. He doesn't care. He hopes his face gets stuck like this. When he rolls into the station two weeks from tomorrow, he's going to take every pamphlet Chimney shoves at him and eat them.

Maddie's grin is threatening to split her face in half. "Give Uncle Tommy a big kiss from us."

He's going to do way more than that. "You bet. Bye, Mads. Bye, Jee!"

The very second the call ends, he's on his feet and practically running down the hall. Tommy had been coming off a rough 24 earlier when he'd sloppily kissed Buck and then staggered into the bedroom. It's been almost three hours and Buck hasn't heard a peep since. 

Buck makes sure to lift the bedroom door when he opens it so the hinges don't creak, and when he sees Tommy—sprawled diagonally across the mattress with his jeans still on and enough drool soaked into the pillowcase to fill a bathtub—his knees decide it's the perfect time to stop working. He clutches the door frame so he doesn't crumble to the floor under the weight of all this euphoria.

Jee thinks of Tommy as family. It's not hard to figure out the logic she must be using to get there: she has an Uncle Buck, who has had a Tommy for as long as she's been making real memories, and therefore… 

He can't help but wonder who else in the world is operating on that same intel. Jee has no doubt told the teachers at her kindergarten about her mom and dad and her amazingly cool Uncle Buck, but maybe she's also told them about her other uncle, who always lets her ride on his shoulders when they go to the park and who talks to her like she's a forty-seven-year old at brunch. Maybe she's told kids at the playground about the uncle who knows why planes stay in the air and who folded himself into a pretzel because she wanted him to sit next to her at the kids' table last Friendsgiving. Maybe she's drawn shitty pictures in crayon of two stick figures holding hands under a smiling sun, and when her classmates ask who they're supposed to be, she tells them, "That's my Uncle Buck and my Uncle Tommy." 

Inhaling shakily, he makes himself move from the doorway to the bed, crawling in as gingerly as he can. It's all for nothing, though, because Tommy cracks an eye open and fixes it on him. Buck scrunches his face up in apology, but Tommy just smiles a little and tugs Buck down, pressing his face into the space between Buck's neck and shoulder and settling with a hum.

Buck slides a hand into his hair and holds him close, breathing in old sweat and a hint of his own shampoo. "I love you, Uncle Tommy."

"If this is a new kink, I'm going to need at least another two hours of sleep before I'm prepared to tackle it," Tommy mumbles. 

Choking on laughter, Buck presses a kiss to the side of his head and wonders if it's possible to die of happiness. "Not quite. Your niece has a question about airplanes and wants you to call her when you wake up."

When there's no immediate answer, Buck is sure Tommy's fallen back to sleep, but then Tommy shifts a little in his arms, presses a kiss to his shoulder, and murmurs warmly, "Will do."

[maiiuelle]

˚���˚

as we all know, jj is not a fan of cops. so, you can imagine how angry he’d be getting a call that you’re locked up.

it's sort of a game of telephone actually. you called kiara from the jail, pleading with her not to tell jj knowing how he'd react. but, with her parents grounding her from any more involvement in pogue business, she didn't really have a choice. so, she told pope, who immediately told jj.

luckily, your offense wasn't serious, you'd been having a bad day already and decided to go on an innocent bike ride. jj was kind enough to have slipped a joint into your backpack for an occasion like this, which you happily lit up to get your mind off of everything. your mistake was riding through the rich side of the island, some kook must've seen you and called the station to complain about who-knows-what, and the smell of weed sticking to your skin made it easier for shoupe to find you. you complied, letting him haul you in the back of his cruiser while he lectured you about drug possession and public intoxication. must be a slow day.

now you're sat in the lobby of the police station, hands bound together in metal cuffs, resting in your lap. you're barely high anymore, the light feeling in your head replaced by irritation. you hear jj before you see him, and the sound of his booming voice makes your heart sink.

"where d'ya even have her? huh, plumb?" you squeeze your eyes shut, the heat of his anger growing closer and closer.

"you need to relax, maybank." she hisses, rounding the corner before him and stopping at the sight of you. she crosses her arms, almost amused. "she's right here."

your blonde boyfriend stomps in after her, wide eyes searching the room before landing on you. he's disheveled, clearly having been in a rush to get here. you don't know what to do other than to stare back at him doe eyed. deputy plumb comes to your side and hoists you to stand with a hand on your arm, spinning you roughly so she can start to unlock the cuffs.

“alright—let’s make this quick.” shoupe’s voice draws everyone’s attention, a stack of papers in his hands that he offers to jj. “i’m doin’ her a favor, just a written warning.”

jj snatches the papers from him, superficially looking them over and then using them to point at the deputy. “you’re outta your mind, shoupe. i can’t believe—“

“i suggest—“ shoupe cuts him off, and jj’s jaw clenches. “—you kids get on home now. we’ve got some real work to do.”

deputy plumb lets you go, clipping the cuffs to her belt and nudging you toward jj. “and keep the dope on the cut.” you look back at her, keeping your mouth shut as you slink over to jj’s side.

“can count on kildare P.D., ain’t that right?” jj keeps his eyes on the officers, face red with anger as he adjusts his hat and starts walking toward the door. you stick close to him, feeling better attached to his side even if he’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “pickin’ on teenage girls — real tough, shoupe. pretty sure y’all got bigger fish to fry, maybe focus on that.”

on the way out of the station, he’s silent. he doesn’t look at you or say a word until you reach the twinkie, where john b is sitting patiently in the driver’s seat. you feel real bad now, realizing you brought everyone into this mess that you could have easily avoided. jj stops at the front of the van, and you follow suit, anxiously biting your lip.

“jayj, i really didn’t mean to cause a whole—“

“nobody’s upset, sugar. relax.” he takes a second to look you over, running his hands down your arms and scanning over your body. “didn’t rough you up in there, did they?”

you shake your head. “oh, no. i’m fine.”

“good.” he brushes your hair over your shoulder, letting his hand linger by your jaw to pull you into a kiss. “least y’got a little street cred now, huh?” his calloused thumb rubs across your cheek, and a warm smile spreads across his face. you’re relieved, in the end really grateful that your boyfriend came to save the day.

˚❀˚

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact) Jean, Eula, Rosaria, Ei, Shenhe, Yelan, Navia, Lumine rescuing their S/O

No one requested this, Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out For A Hero" came on and demanded I write. ...Same thing happened for the AK-15 fic actually. I NEED A HERO, I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO-

The moment Jean learns that her S/O had been kidnapped for ransom, her senses become so hyper focused and immediately sets off to alert the Knights of an abduction.

She wastes absolutely no time in tracking S/O, and does so easily with her and the others searching.

Her adrenaline kicks into overdrive, and she does not rest until S/O is safe inside Mondstadt walls, ignoring any injury sustained and insisting that she can keep going.

For only a brief moment, Jean loses control and doesn't even warn warn the kidnappers or attempt an arrest, immediately using her Vision to blow them back.

The sight of her S/O is enough to get her to snap back to her senses, and promptly make the offenders pay for their crimes by sending them to the jails.

With a sigh of relief, Jean feels the exhaustion on her body start to take its toll, but she smiles as she unties them.

(Jean) "Thank goodness you're alright. Let's get you home."

She gives her S/O the tightest hug of their life, and has one arm locked around them the entire journey back.

Eula absolutely loses it the moment she learned that someone of the Lawrence clan has kidnapped her S/O.

This was the exact reason she did not want them associated with her-

No. Now was not the time for such thoughts. Now was the time for vengeance.

Being the Captain of the Reconnaissance company, she doesn't have any difficulty in locating their whereabouts.

As much as Eula would like to make sure the Lawrence in question never take another step, she knows it'd be far worse for them to be alive and imprisoned by the Knights of Favonius.

With a swing of her claymore, she instantly puts down the attacker in an ambush and cuffs them. Her gaze turns to her lover before releasing them, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

(Eula) "Hmph, how careless of you to be captured by another Lawrence. Next time, you will not be so lucky."

By the way her hand was shaking and how close she remained at their side, they could easily see past her words and how worried she was about them.

VIOLENCE

Unlike most people in Mondstadt, her idea of justice is if the person never takes another breath again.

The person kidnapping S/O more than likely had no idea that she was even associated with them. That was their first mistake.

Their last mistake was assuming they would get away with it alive.

Rosaria stalks the kidnapper to where her S/O is being kept.

For the moment, they were unconscious.

Which worked for her.

Dropping down from the shadows, she quietly but violently dispatches of the kidnapper, taking extra care to not make a mess on S/O.

She unties them before carrying them in her arms out of harm's way, not making a comment until they woke up.

(Rosaria) "Good, you're awake. I'm glad you're okay, but be more careful next time."

Rosaria's grip tightens on them before gently setting them back down if they could walk.

What do you think happens when you kidnap God's girlfriend/boyfriend?

If you answered death, congratulations! You're right!

Ei on the inside is scared for their safety, but she knows that panicking will not make things better.

Instead, she goes out to rescue them personally while alerting the soldiers at her command to ensure no one escapes.

And to add extra insurance, she sends out the Shogun to find S/O as well, and to exterminate any offender with extreme prejudice.

The skies darkened and lightning split apart the clouds, striking at the entrance of the abandoned base.

The last thing S/O's kidnappers saw was a woman in purple, staring down at them with a katana held in her hand.

I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROOOAAAAACHING

There was literally nothing left of the kidnappers to arrest or bury, so Ei casually walked up to S/O before untying their restraints.

(Ei) "I am glad to see you unharmed. Do you require any medical assistance?"

For the next month, Ei and the Shogun personally accompany S/O to wherever they needed to go.

Ensuring that if anyone was stupid enough to try it again, they got to see what they would be up against.

EXTREME VIOLENCE

The red ropes on Shenhe is barely enough to contain the rage that swells within her at this very moment.

Someone dared to kidnap someone as loving and sweet as her S/O?

Thanks to them and the Traveler, she tries not to use violence as the answer to all her problems.

For this particular situation, Shenhe decides that violence will solve the problem that is the kidnapper's continued existence.

The very second she found out their location, she begins ripping and tearing through anything and anyone in the vicinity that she deemed was responsible.

The treasure hoarders that kidnapped them? Turned to ribbons.

The wooden doors trying to conceal them? In splinters.

That one Hilichurl sitting near the cliff minding its own business and not even realizing what was happening? It's now at the bottom of that cliff. (And if Shenhe didn't do it, you would've, you monster.)

Shenhe is absolutely stained red the moment she frees her S/O, her rage slowly subsiding at the sight of her lover.

(Shenhe) "I am here to rescue you, S/O."

Shenhe is almost super glued to their side from then on, never wanting to let them get hurt ever again.

And Archons help anyone who tried to again.

Yelan figured something like this would happen. Her enemies would try to kidnap her S/O as a form of revenge or luring her out.

Unfortunately for them, Yelan had a contingency plan if something like this ever happened.

Informants are able to pinpoint the exact location S/O was being held with relative ease.

She infiltrates the building and without warning, her strings immediately sweep the kidnappers off their feet and left them dangling in the air.

(Yelan) "Not so fun when you're tied up, is it?"

Ignoring their shouting, she walks over to S/O and gives them a smile.

(Yelan) "Sorry for the wait. Dinner on me?"

She seems casual about the situation, but when they're out of earshot of everyone, she gives them a firm but gentle hug.

Yelan was no stranger to losing people she cared about, but she was glad she did not have to re-experience the feeling today.

(Navia) *LOADS UMBRELLA WITH MALICIOUS INTENT*

Oh, perfect! Looks like S/O's kidnappers just volunteered themselves to be target practice!

Navia charges headfirst to wherever S/O is being held, not really worrying about the collateral damage other than S/O themselves.

Her bodyguards were able to find them quickly, and joined her in their rescue.

Navia lets all guns fly, making sure these punks would be taught a lesson they'd never forget.

NO ONE touches her darling, except for her!

When Navia finally gets S/O out, she has them in a near bone crushing hug, kissing them repeatedly on the face, being a bit too playful considering the situation.

But in private, she nearly breaks down crying as her hug on S/O tightens.

She was so afraid that they'd get hurt, or worse.

But she's thanking the gods above that they were unharmed.

The aftermath of the situation, Navia and her guards are almost stalking S/O. For their safety, of course.

Even though sometimes that safety has to be all three of them hiding behind a bush very conspicuously, even after S/O's insistence that they were fine.

Sadly, this was not Lumine's first experience with a close person to her being kidnapped. Probably wasn't going to be the last either.

While she is worried for their safety, she has no doubt that they're going to get them out fine.

Lumine blitzes into the domain they're being held in and clears out everyone in her way with nearly blinding speed.

No one has a chance to even react as she effortlessly takes out every single attacker, making her way to them.

Finally after knocking out their kidnapper, she has the guards who she informed the kidnapping about make their arrests as she personally attends to S/O.

(Lumine) "You're not hurt are you?" sigh "Good. Come on, let's go home."

Lumine holds S/O's arm the entire time as they get enough distance from town, remaining silent.

She couldn't find her brother, and she didn't want to lose S/O as well.

Brightening up the mood a bit, Paimon appeared behind them.

(Paimon) "Why don't we have S/O stay with us at the Teapot for a while?"

Lumine makes it mandatory for S/O to sleep in the bedroom with her, and has Tubby or Paimon usually keeping an eye on them so she has some peace of mind.

[bleedingoptimism]

Steve only agreed to go out with Tommy after their parents set them up because he “owed” his dad for ruining a potential business partnership for him at a dinner party.

To the rest of the guests, the man had just tripped and embarrassed himself but he knew and Steve knew and Steve’s dad knew: Steve had tripped him. But the guy had groped his ass when he crossed him on his way to the bathroom. He had it coming.

And even if his father had agreed with him after Steve told him the truth, he still needed help landing another client since his most profitable opportunity turned out to be a big ol’ creep. A date with another client’s son. Young, rich, good-looking, a single dad. It didn’t sound that bad.

And so Steve met Tommy. 

At first, Tommy was… good. He was charming, cute, a praiser and a joker but the more Steve got to know the less he liked. After a while the compliments stopped and the commanding requests began. Get me this, pick this up, cook me, blow me, dress me, feed me, drive me, me, me, me.

But if Steve wanted or needed something? Tommy was sooo tired and busy. He hadn’t even made an effort to meet Steve’s friends yet. Plus he was always making Steve feel dumb and unimportant, saying his job was silly, even if Steve made almost as much money as him with fewer hours.

Telling him not to ‘worry his pretty head about it’ when Steve asked for clarifications or wouldn’t talk to him about work because Steve ‘wouldn’t get it’. He talked down on Steve all the time and offered him money to “buy himself something nice” in a degrading manner as if Steve was nothing more than arm candy for him.

The worst part was when he realized Tommy… wasn't funny. At all. All his jokes were based on making fun of other people. And he was the only one who laughed at them. He was no better than a bully. He… kind of sucked.

And Steve would’ve loved to never have to see him again. But the problem was he had fallen in love with Tommy’s daughter, Tarja. Because Tommy might have been a terrible boyfriend but at least he was a good enough father. So the weeks Tommy got Tarja, Steve spent most of his time with her. 

She was just a delight. Cute, smart, and actually funny. She had the most deadpan sarcastic humor a 6-year-old could manage and it cracked him up. She was also super creative and loved drawing, reading, bedtime tales, and coming up with stories of her own.

Her emotional maturity was impressive, better than her father’s actually, and one of Steve’s favorite things about her. He’d never forget the day he went to pick her up from school and she’d been upset. When Steve asked her how he could help she had calmly explained what had happened, how it made her feel, and what she could do about it… over ice cream, obviously. It made him wonder what kind of person her other dad was like because she had clearly not learned how to communicate like that from Tommy.

And the thing is, Steve had always wanted a kid, ever since he was young all he wanted was a family and even if Tommy wasn’t great he just couldn’t make himself leave the connection he felt with Tarja. And he couldn’t just come out to Tommy and say: ‘Hey I wanna break up, but I’d love to keep seeing your kid,’ that would land him at best a punch, at worst in jail.

There was also the fact that, no matter how much he tried to deflect, Tommy’s comments were starting to get to him. Maybe Tommy was as good as he’d get, maybe he was dumb and uninteresting and the only thing he had going for him was his looks, maybe this was his only chance for a family. So he stuck it out. Cherished the times when they were all together.

And then he met Eddie.

👈previous part

👉 next part

☕🥐💕?

[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 , 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

summary , Y/N's hate for her mothers new boyfriend is amplified after she is forced to spend more time with him will it fix there relationship or make it worse?

pairing , step dad! lewis hamilton x fem! young teen! reader

pervious part | series masterlist | main masterlist | f1 masterlist | lewis hamilton masterlist | next part

dexumoi . 2hrs ago

seen by lewishamilton yourinstagram 21,378,540 others

LEWIS

I don't think this is a good idea

Y/N's really mad at the both of us

she says she has to miss her archery training

and that she is gonna be under prepared for her competition after winter

NANA

Lewis sweetheart Y/N doesn't have any comps till march

Trust me baby she's just angry at her dad and she's taking it out on everyone

other than that she's harmless

LEWIS

she threatened to use me as target practice

NANA

I'll talk to her...

Y/N

Someone fucking kill me rn 💀

MINJI

what has he done?

Y/N

he's making this plane ride awkward af rn 😭😭

HANNIE

Are you doing anything to help the situation?

Y/N

Well I'm speaking in Korean in an attempt to get him to drop it

but so far it's not working

anyone got any ideas

DANIELLE

Pretend to fall asleep?

Y/N

Tried that during the car ride to the airport

and it made it so much worse

HAERIN

Why don't you try actually talking to him?

...

Y/N

...

MINJI

...

HANNIE

...

DANIELLE

...

HAERIN

dumb idea?

Y/N

very much so

but we move

HANNIE

I mean atleast he is easy on the eyes 👀

Y/N

suddenly I have gone blind 😘

HANNIE

WHAT?!?!?!

IT'S TRUE HE IS KINDA FINE 😔

Y/N

MINJI

I hate to say it but I agree with Hannie

It's the tattoo's 🤭

HANNIE

agreed x 2

DANIELLE

agreed x 3

HAERIN

agreed x4

Y/N

ew 🤮

tf am I friends with you guys again?

HANNIE

CUZ YOU LOVE US 💕💕

MINJI

and cuz you know u could NEVA

have basic white ass bitches as your besties 👯

DANIELLE

friends?

baby we are married?

HAERIN

you can't stay away boo 😒

you would miss us to much

since you are crazy in love with us obvi 🙄

Y/N

debatable 🤔

anyway I gotta go

mom wants me to have dinner with her and Lewis

see u in a bit

mwah 💋

HANNIE

UFFF

I'm praying for you rn 🙏

DANIELLE

someone keep the engin running

cuz we gonna end up breaking Y/N out of jail for murder by the end of this

Y/N

Facts.

I've already got the knife ready 🙂

MINJI

KNIFE?

WHAT FUCKING KNIFE

BABE YOU CAN'T DO EXAM'S FROM PRISON

OKAY OKAY OKAY

QUICK SOMEONE GET A BODY BAG READY AND A CAR

AND BLEECH

STAY CALM PEOPLE

WE KNOW THE DRILL

HAERIN

that my child yall 💅

read

nanayn . 2hrs ago

seen by yourinstagram minji 78,360,612 others

MOTHER

hi sweetheart

clear your scedual from

March 31st - April 2nd

Lewis has got us VIP tickets to the Australian gp

Isn't that exciting! read

[queenslimeball]

Sounds like a dream

Part two here

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

Contents; Angst, fluff, mother!reader

Summary; Y/n visits Gator in jail to introduce him to their son.

It's been a long time since Gator was first sentenced to prison. It was even worse for him to begin with, considering he had to deal with it blindly, too. To help, he'd been given a mobility cane, of which he struggled to use it within the first few weeks.

Gator hasn't had many ways of keeping track, but he assumes he's already been locked up for almost two years now. He assumes so because he can visualise the layout of the prison in his mind – he knows where everything is by now. Every day is Groundhog Day, so it doesn't take very long to learn.

What isn't hard to keep track of is the number of visits Gator has gotten. Two. Both from Dot. Both with cookies. Both several months apart. Other than that, nothing. At least she is a woman of her word.

Gator is sitting on his bed in his cell when he hears a loud bang at the bars with a guard's batton. It startles him, and he looks in the general direction to which it came from.

"Oi, Tillman. You got a visitor comin' in. Get up." The guard says. The recognisable sound of the door creaking open echoes through the jail. Gator carefully stands. He reaches out for the guard's shoulder and keeps it there so he can be lead away.

Gator's mind is filled with wonder. Who would be visiting him? Surely not Dot again. She didn't visit too long ago now, and she rarely visits. But it's not like anyone else does.

Gator is instructed to sit at a table, and then he hears the guard walk off. It seems that he's alone in the room. He can't hear a single sound of someone else. Disappointment floods his heart for a moment, his shoulders sinking.

The sound of shoes on the floor brightens his spirits suddenly. He hears someone sit opposite him. Gator feels his excitement come back.

"Hey, Gator." It's Y/n.

Y/n's voice soothes Gator, somewhat. He hasn't heard the sound in so long, yet it's so refreshing. She was Gator's girlfriend. But, when she found out Gator wasn't as good of a guy as she thought he was, she broke up with him. She was one of the last people he saw before his eyes were taken from him. He'll always remember the sight of her, no matter how long passes.

"Y/n? What're you doin' here?" Gator asks softly, not quite believing that this is her.

"Visiting you." Y/n replies.

"I– I know that." Gator pinches the bridge of his nose just below the black-out sunglasses he wears. "But I mean... Why?"

"I wanted to see how you are." She shrugs simply.

"Well, I'm shit, yeah, I'm in jail." Gator scoffs.

"That's not what I meant."

"It's not?"

"No." Y/n responds firmly. "I meant I wanted to see if you've changed. If this this has done you any good."

The truth is, it has. Even losing his sight was enough to flip his whole world upside down. Now, jail has flipped it about continuously like a washing machine. He's not the old Gator anymore. Or at least he's not the Gator that tried to be a Roy. He's the Gator trying to be a Gator.

"I hope so." Is all Gator musters up to say. "How've you been?" He asks.

"Good. I actually moved out to Chicago not long after all that shit happened." She answers. "I got a new job, new friends, the whole lot."

"New boyfriend?" Gator can't help but ask, a hint of jealousy in his tone.

Y/n laughs and shakes her head, but then she remembers that Gator can't see her and quickly tries to verbalise it. "God, no."

"That's a... shame. You deserve someone nice." He tries not to make it sound too forced, but he's more just excited that he still has a chance with her.

"Thanks. I, uh... I brought someone that I'd like you to meet." Y/n finally says, as if she's been debating to go through with this. Gator hears the sound of her rising to walk away, then shortly after start to walk over to his side of the table.

"What's goin' on? Is this some kinda prank?" He questions, sceptical of her behaviour.

"Turn around." She ignores him. Gator huffs and does as told on the bench, spinning around to face where her voice comes from.

"So who the hell am I–" He starts, but stops himself when he feels someone lowered into his lap. A small someone.

"What's this?" He questions. His hand gently reaches to feel whatever is in his lap. He finds a face and quickly repositions his hand, finding hair instead. "I mean, who?"

"Meet your son."

Gator's whole world stops. His heart stops beating, and his brain stops working. His son? When did he ever have a son? He tries to ask her about it, but he just can't get any words out as his mouth gapes open. His bottom lip quivers slightly, and he gently wraps an arm around the small boy, holding him closer.

"My.. My son?"

"Well, our son." She corrects. "I found out I was pregnant after we broke up."

Gator can't help but smile. "Our son.." He murmurs to himself.

Y/n sits next to Gator. She leans her head on Gator's shoulder to get a view of Gator and their son. Gator feels his skin heat up at her being so close, but she doesn't think much of it whatsoever.

"What's his name?"

"Alex. I couldn't think of anything creative, so I just named him after the midwife. Luckily, she had a gender neutral name." She recalls with a soft chuckle.

"Hey, Alex. It's Daddy." Gator softens his voice, looking where he thinks Alex's face will be.

"Daddy..." Alex mumbles, a small hand reaching up to grab at Gator's face. His heart melts, and he smiles widely.

Gator's smile vanishes, although. The sweetness of his son has quickly become something he doesn't know if he could live with. He'll never see his son. His face slowly falls into one of despair.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asks, peering around to study Gator's facial features that she can read from his eyebrows, cheeks and mouth.

"No, no, I'm–" Gator stumbles on his words. He makes a noise, like he's about to speak, but it just comes out as a shaky breath like he's about to cry. "I'm never gonna see my son."

Y/n gently rubs Gator's back. There's not much she can do besides that. She can't give him his sight back. If she could, she would. She feels bad for him.

Gator tries to calm himself down. He slowly relaxes himself, for now, even though he knows this is going to be keeping him up all night. He won't be able to sleep with that thought. It's terrifying. Terrifying that there's nothing he can do about it.

"What does he look like?" Gator questions after a moment of pure silence. He gently pets Alex's hair, enjoying how soft it is.

"Honestly, better than I'd imagined." Y/n answers. "He's got the same shade hair as me. It's all messy. He's got your eyes and your nose. Freckles. The cheekiest, cutest smile you'd ever see."

"He sounds like a dream." He says, voice wavering as his hand gently combs through Alex's hair.

"He is. He reminds me of you in a way." She chuckles. "Because, he–"

Vzzrt!

The buzzer for the end of visiting.

Gator finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed. His mind is still on Y/n and Alex. She was about to say something good about him. He knows it. Surely she wouldn't badmouth their young son, so surely he's onto something here? Gator wishes he had just a few more seconds to hear what she likes about him. Or to hear more about his son. Maybe next time...

[do-you-ship-this-comic-ship]

propaganda:

This is for all of my fellow Two-Face and Gilda lovers out there! Personally I think that BruHarvey as a ship is underrated because of how much more popular other Rogues are (especially the Joker and the Riddler), and the prominence of ships between Bruce and various members of the Justice League (and of course the various comp het ships DC keeps trying to force Bruce into).

In comparison Harvey just doesn't really capture the fandom's imagination as much. Therefore BruHarvey isn't super popular because they don't consider it as an option a lot of the time. But that being said, I also find that a lot of people when presented with BruHarvey as a possible ship will be pretty amenable to it! It's just a fantastic ship if you want some old man/toxic/tragic yaoi! The ship has so much going for it! Childhood friends to lovers. Enemies to lovers. Friends in their civilian identities, as they try to pursue justice for Gotham together, and even friends after Harvey becomes a villain too! It's SO juicy and has SO much unexplored potential if DC weren't COWARDS and would just let Brucie kiss men already! Each of their themes of justice, duality, and redemptive love mirror one another in such an exceedingly tantalizing way that I could write a whole college thesis on it! But I'm not just here about them. I'm also here for my girl Gilda too!

Now BruHarvey may be an underrated ship... And Two-Face as a character is just about rated as a character (not underrated. Not overrated. Just rated). But Gilda...? My poor, poor girl Gilda! Writers never know what to do with her and refuse to give her the justice she deserves!!! Gilda is a big part of the reason why Two-Face was able to work so well as a character and concept all the way back in the 40's in the first place! I don't think that Harvey would have been as iconic of a character with as much staying power as he does with just... SO MANY imitators if it weren't for Gilda's presence and ability to help Harvey redeem himself! The whole point of Harvey as a character is that while he might be a villain, he is never too far gone as to not deserve a chance at redemption. He genuinely cannot help himself when it comes to the compulsion of doing crime. And in his original stories, he was able to redeem himself and reach a happy ending with Gilda helping him, supporting him, and loving him through that journey.

The reason that Batman doesn't kill is largely because of Harvey himself! His childhood friend that he deeply cares about, and who, no matter how much society at large, and even Harvey himself tells Bruce that he is beyond saving, that he still cares about nevertheless and will NEVER give up on! And Gilda was the first person to never give up on Harvey and was the one to lead him back to the light! In a time where Batman might still occasionally use a gun and where the punishment most criminals would recieve in the comics was death or a lifetime of jail, never to be seen again, Two-Face stood out because of his redemption! A redemption that the writers of the comics stuck to for decades in spite of a clear demand to have Two-Face back as a threat! (Hence the many, many imitators.) And sure, the helpless damsel who saves the bad guy through the power of love may be a tired trope these days, but it's still one that can work very well, and as a woman first written in the 40's Gilda actually has a surprising amount to her that later writers would forget or just outright ignore! Gilda clearly was a female character who had more going on in her life other than her boyfriend at the time she was first written. She was actually a sculptor!

A woman with her own well-respected career entirely divorced from her DA boyfriend's! And while Harvey was her primary muse, I have doubts that her career just stopped when he turned to crime! After all, she seems to have been a woman who owned a house and lived on her own and had enough wealth to spend her free time going to the movies (and apparently buying herself mysterious cloaks). In the 1940's! We love a woman who can get everything on her own without needing a man (though it is a nice bonus) in this household! And she was doing it as an artist when that stuff was less common! And her other biggest trait is her unshaking love and loyalty for Harvey. I think that it's genuinely interesting how the crime and murder matters very little to Gilda (and similar characters that fill her role in stories). What she doesn't like is how he lies and tries to decieve her specifically. She would die for Harvey. She would kill for Harvey. She will stay with and help him through thick and thin. No matter what.

And very few pieces of media do her character justice! The Long Halloween may ostensibly be about her, but they gave her nothing in her life other than the men she associates with, a desire for children, and murder. Not even a hint that she was a sculptor, barely a hint that she studied law or anything that other iterations offered! She's my girl! And she could honestly offer a number of very interesting story posibilities, if only writers saw her potential! But clearly they don't given that for the last several decades, they've been writing her out of stories, or killing her off in brutal fashion so that they don't have to deal with the question of what she's up to while Harvey is doing his crime stuff. Hell. Gilda was the catalyst for the Long Halloween, so why isn't Dark Victory about nor even include her in person!??? Why not explore her being Duela Dent's mother!? Why not show her standing by Bruce's side while the both of them try to help Harvey recover!??? Why do the writers try to make Harvey NOT a wife guy!? Why can't they let Gilda be around and Harvey's wife that's cooler and more chill than him!? Why must Harvey be single!? By far he has the best romantic chemistry with (out of anyone who isn't Gilda) Bruce and no other major character! But if you stick Harvey and Bruce together for that sweet, sweet tragic yaoi and angst... Well... First of all DC are COWARDS who refuse to let Bruce be into dudes. And second of all, why not just let Bruce, Harvey, and Gilda be together and poly!!!? But I'm no coward! Double the partners means double the chances for tragedy and angst! (Or comedy if you'd like!) And double the possibilities for love, recovery, and redemption! Gilda wouldn't and shouldn't give up on Harvey!

And Bruce and Gilda cheating on Harvey without his blessing!??? BROKE! Them being in a polycule? Excellent! And if you need any proof that Bruce, Harvey, and Gilda could be a functional polycule, you should read the daily newspaper Batman comics as archived on @daily-batman! Because they make a GREAT case for it there, and seeing their relationship develop in that story is just delightful! Harvey watches Batman (that he's half figured out is Bruce) kiss his wife (named Alice but like... She's CLEARLY just Gilda with a different name!) and isn't bothered by it AT ALL other than it giving her hope that he can get better! Kissing his wife? That he understands and is perfectly fine with. But giving her HOPE!!!??? Now THAT'S a line too far! Sounds like something someone poly might do! And also... That series finale!!! Lol. Harvey getting jealous of and trying to kill Bruce for thinking that he's stealing his girl? Nah. Broke. Harvey being a-okay with Bruce smooching his wife because he's already in love with Bruce too...? HELL YEAH! Let's do it! Who needs love triangles when you can have power throuples instead!??? Join the few of us that enjoy the ship! And give Gilda and BruHarvey the love they deserve!!!!

Also just LOOK at the image I sent and tell me that it DOESN'T look like Bruce, Harvey, and Gilda are getting poly-married! BruHarvey is juicy and even more juicy with the added DLC of Gilda in the mix! And Gilda deserves the whole world! Give them the world!

[rollingsins]

all hers, part xxi

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue

summary: Richie's gone. Sam and Tara rush to the police station, and R gets a visit from someone she hoped to never see again.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder. Mention of sex, violence.

word count: 3.5k

a/n: it's here! GF final reveal. as mentioned previously, I'm going to try keep the blog spoiler free for the next 48 hours, so won't be posting spoilery asks, but please still feel free to send them through! I'll post them a little later :))))) hope you all enjoy, and I hope your theory was correct!

Nobody says anything for a good twenty seconds.

The Sheriff’s face is stony. Serious. 

You feel as if your heart has just dropped down into your stomach. 

Tara’s hand grips tight on your hip. 

Sam blinks, mouth open like a fish out of water. 

And then it’s her who breaks the silence. 

“He’s gone?” 

She blinks once more. Her words turn into a splutter. 

“But he’s dead.” 

The Sheriff swallows. You almost feel bad for her, the way she wrings her hat in her hands like she’s standing in front of a courthouse of jurors. 

“He was admitted to the morgue,” She explains, voice soft, “There was a fifteen minute window where the Coroner was off shift. We think it happened then.” 

“You think what happened?” You ask, heartbeat hammering loudly in your ears, “You think he got up and walked out?” 

“No,” Says the Sheriff, a little impatient, “He was dead. He’s definitely dead-” 

“And you lost him?” Tara asks, her voice rising, “You lost a dead guy?”

The Sheriff looks at Sam. 

“Perhaps we should do this somewhere more private?” 

“Absolutely not,” Sneers Tara, “You don’t exactly have a track record of asking the right questions, Sheriff.” 

Except she does. And you know it. You touch Tara’s arm, try to quiet her. 

Let’s not piss off the person who can haul you right back to jail, the look in your eyes says. 

But Sam crosses her arms. 

“Tara stays. She’s right, Sheriff. First you try to pin six murders on her, then you lose the actual culprit. The dead culprit.”  

The Sheriff purses her lips. 

“I’m not here to argue,” She says, directing a pointed look at your girlfriend, “But I am here to find out what happened. Whoever Richie was working with likely took his body. Why? I don’t know. But I need answers. And fast.” 

Sam furrows her brow. 

“I don’t know who he was working with,” She says, “I didn’t even know what he was doing in his spare time. Hell, I had no idea who he truly was.”

She sounds a little agonized. Like it’s her fault her boyfriend almost had her sister killed. 

“But you knew him.” Says the Sheriff, “You knew his patterns, his friends, his routine. If we can pin down some names, we might be able to find the culprit.” 

She stands a little taller. 

“And I’d like you to come down to the station and help me figure it out. Please.”  

Sam looks at Tara, a little torn.

“I need to be here with my sister.” She says. 

“Your sister will be fine,” Says the Sheriff, “I can arrange for a squad car. Two, if you need it. She’ll be safe, Sam. They won’t let anything happen to her.” 

“Fuck that,” Says Tara, “We’re coming. Down to the station. Sam, I’m not letting you talk to them alone.”

There’s fire in her voice. Fire that usually only sparks when it comes to you. You blink, a little surprised. Sam seems to be surprised by it too, going off the look on her face. 

“That really isn’t necessary.” Cuts in the Sheriff, hurriedly, “Tara, it’s really better if I talk to Sam alone-”

“You’re not talking to Sam without me,” Growls Tara. 

The Sheriff blinks, her shoulders drawn tight like she’s gearing for a fight. And then she slumps them. 

“Alright,” She says, voice even, “What matters is finding Richie and his partner. Tara can be with you.” 

Sam swallows. She nods, only slightly. 

“I’ll get my jacket.” 

-

You’re halfway into climbing into the Sheriff’s squad car when a familiar Ford Focus pulls into the driveway. 

It’s your Mom’s car. You spot her behind the wheel, looking a little forlorn as she hurries to step out. 

And then you see your Dad. Face pinched. Annoyed. Like this is the last place he wants to be. 

“One second,” You tell the Sheriff, and before she can protest, you’re climbing out of the backseat and stepping out onto the drive. 

“YN,” Says your Mom, a little out of breath as she approaches. 

Your Dad hovers by the car, scowl on his face as he surveys Tara in the backseat of the squad car. Your Mom’s eyes widen. 

“She’s not been arrested again?” 

“No, Mom,” You huff, “The Sheriff just needs Sam’s help on something, that’s all.” 

“Oh,” Says your Mom. Then her voice softens, “Darling, please. Come home with us. We all need to talk.” 

“I don’t think so, Mom.” You begin, “Not when Dad’s acting- crazy, like this.” 

You look over at him. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Tara. Glaring, eyes frosted over. Like he hates her more than anyone else in the world. 

“Dad has agreed to listen,” Your Mom begs, “Please, sweetheart. He knows he overreacted about the- sex,” Her voice drops, like she’s just said something scandalous, “But the other things - the arrest. The manslaughter?”

“Self-defense,” You say immediately. 

Your Mom swallows. 

“The self-defense. We need to talk about it. You’re still our daughter. Our only daughter. And we’re worried about you.” 

You shoot a look over to the squad car. 

The Sheriff is watching, her eyes pinched. Sam’s watching your Dad, but Tara is looking at you. 

“Babe?” She says from the car, voice soft, “What is it?” 

It isn’t the worst idea in the world. They’re still your parents, after all. You don’t want this - your Dad angry at you. Angry at Tara. You don’t want to ruin your relationship with them if it can be salvaged. 

Your Mom blinks, desperation in her eyes. You soften, pursing your lips. 

“I’m going to go with my parents,” You tell Tara, “My Mom is right. We should talk.” 

Tara sits up. She pries off her seatbelt immediately. 

“I’ll come.” Tara says, climbing out of the car. 

“No.” Your Dad growls from the car. You ignore him. Rub your hands over Tara’s forearms. 

“Babe, it’s fine. You need to go with Sam,” You remind her. You lower your voice, “You need to be in there, make sure she’s okay. Like you said." 

Tara looks at you, conflicted.

“But, babe-” 

“I’ll be fine,” You assure, “I’ll be with my parents. You and Sam can come and pick me up from the house when you’re done.”

“But Ghostface-”

“Isn’t going to attack me in broad daylight,” You say, “Besides. My Dad’s arsenal is almost as big as Sam’s. Remember?” 

Tara looks at your Dad, a little doubtful. 

“She’ll be fine, Tara, I’ll send in a squad car.” Says The Sheriff, looking over the rim of her sunglasses at you, “But if you want to go, I don’t mind talking to Sam alone-” 

Her tone of voice suggests she very much wants Tara to stay with you. Tara picks it up the same moment you do. Her eyes narrow. Sam's an easy target - Richie's girlfriend, perhaps she could even be sold as his partner in crime.

“You’re not talking to Sam without me,” She says, voice a growl. She shimmies out of the backseat and presses a kiss to your lips, “Keep your phone on,” She says, “Text me every five minutes, okay?” 

You nod. 

“Okay, babe.” You assure, offering her a small smile. 

She kisses you once more. 

“And be careful.” 

-

The drive back to your parents house is in silence. 

You sit in the back seat, twiddling your thumbs. Your Mom drives, your Dad stewing in silence. 

When you arrive at the house, it isn’t much better. 

“I’ll make tea,” Says your Mom, hurrying off to the kitchen as you and your Dad settle down on the sofa. His lip twitches, like he has something he wants to say, but you get in first. 

“You owe Tara an apology,” You say, eyes narrowed, “She has a bruise on her arm the size of Iowa-” 

“She’s lucky that’s all she got,” Says your Dad. 

You stare at him for a moment. Then stand. 

“I’m not talking to you if you’re going to be like this,” You say, voice hot. 

Your Dad hesitates. Then puts his arm out to draw you back down. 

“I’m sorry,” He says, and although it’s through gritted teeth, he does sound like he means it, “I shouldn’t have grabbed her. I’ll apologize to her.” 

You blink. 

“Thank you.” 

Your Mom reemerges, cups of hot tea in hand. 

“Darling,” She says, “Please. Sit down.” 

You settle back into your seat, phone buzzing in your hand. It’s Tara. 

In Sheriff’s office with Sam, waiting for her to come back, it reads. 

Then. It buzzes again. 

You ok baby? 

Fine, you message back, Dad said he’s sorry for grabbing u. 

I’ll believe it when I hear it, Tara sends back. 

Your Mom clears her throat. 

“YN,” She says, “Can you put the phone down please? We need to talk.” 

And talk you do. 

Your Dad stays quiet while your Mom outlines her concerns. The plan, the manslaughter. Tara’s arrest. Her concerns are valid. 

Yes, Tara had been arrested for murder. Murders that she had committed. 

Yes, you’d set up a foolhardy plan with Tara’s friends to capture Ghostface. 

And yes, you’d gone into that school knowing you were about to take someone’s life. And done exactly that. 

You watch as your Mother tries to understand. And know there’s nothing you can say to quell her fears. 

“I think we need to get you into therapy.” Says your Mom, chewing her lip, “We should have done it earlier. I’m sorry we didn’t do it earlier.” 

You blink. 

“I don’t want to talk to a shrink,” You argue. 

You don’t want to talk to anyone about this. Talking led to answers, answers that you very much need to keep buried. For your sake, just as much as Tara’s. 

“Please, honey,” Begs your Mom, “You haven’t been coping, that much is obvious.”

“I’m fine,” You say, leaning forward, “As fine as I can be. I know you’re upset about the plan, but Mom- it was the only way. I mean, look what he was doing to us. Dad carries around a shotgun like it’s his wallet, Tara was going out of her mind, and poor Sam is one more attack away from a nervous breakdown-” 

“Exactly why you should talk to someone,” Says your Dad, quietly, “This isn’t normal, YN. Normal eighteen year olds are worried about which colleges they’re going to get into. Not about if they’re going to be attacked in their homes in the middle of the night.” 

He pauses. 

“And it wouldn’t hurt Tara to go, either.” 

Annoyance flares up in your chest. 

“Can you stop going after Tara?” You say, suddenly on edge, “She’s done nothing to you, Dad. All she’s done is protect me, and you’re acting like she’s been abusing me or something-” 

“There’s something not right about her,” Your Dad says. His brows furrow, like there’s something he just can’t quite work out, “YN, she treats you like you belong to her.” 

“I do belong to her,” You say immediately, and then regret it almost instantly. Your Dad’s face contorts in anger. Hurriedly, you walk it back, “I mean, she belongs to me too. I’m her girlfriend. And she’s mine.” 

“Honey.” Your Mom is looking at your Dad, a serious look in her eye. Like she’s trying to warn him off saying the wrong thing. 

You watch his fists ball. 

“Nobody belongs to anyone,” Your Dad says, “You’re not a piece of property. See, this is exactly what I mean. Any shrink worth his weight will tell you the same.” 

“I’m not talking to a shrink,” You say, voice raising, “You can’t make me.” 

Your Dad stands. His voice is like thunder. 

“You’re my child and you’ll do what I say,” He says, familiar vein popping out of his forehead.  

You sink back into your seat, crossing your arms, “I thought I didn’t belong to anyone?” You say, voice flat. 

Your Dad takes a deep breath. The way he usually does before he’s about to launch into a tirade. 

His hand raises, and he points a finger at you. 

And then his face freezes. 

It’s unmistakable. A loud shattering, like a glass has been dropped. Your Mom’s face falls. You blink, head turning to see where it had come from. 

“What was that?” Your Dad says, turning from you, suddenly on guard. 

It had sounded from the kitchen. Butterflies soar within your stomach, but not the good kind. The kind that feel like you’re being eaten from the inside out. 

The back of your neck prickles. And then your heart almost leaps out of your chest as you feel your phone buzzing in your hands. 

It’s Tara. Her pretty smile flashes across the screen. You gulp, silencing your phone with a click of your button. 

“The gun,” Hisses your Mom, “Get the gun.” 

Your Dad fumbles around behind the sofa. He pulls out his shotgun, posies it against his chest. 

“Who’s there?” He calls out, but his voice shakes, “I’m armed. I have a weapon.”

Silence. 

Your Mom grabs you by the arm, pulls you back against the wall. 

“Stay here,” Your Dad says, cocking the shotgun. 

“Dad, don’t-” You hiss, as you grab your phone. It’s buzzing again, Tara’s name flashing across the screen, “I’m going to call the police.” 

But he doesn’t listen. 

He draws closer to the kitchen, step by step. Your Mom’s eyes are wide, fearful, as she clings onto your arm for dear life. 

You press your phone to your ear, answer Tara’s call. 

“Babe-” She says, voice urgent, “Stay where you are, I know who Ghostface is.” 

But you barely hear her. Your heartbeat is thundering in your ears, fire flooding through your veins. 

“He’s in the house,” You say, breath caught in the back of your throat, “Tara, he’s here-” 

The crunch of your Dad’s boots against the kitchen tile. You watch as he disappears out of sight. Tears spill wet down your cheeks. Your Mom’s grip on your hand is so hard you feel as if she might pull it clean off. 

“Baby, I’m coming,” Tara says. She’s out of breath, like she’s running, “Sam- drive.”

“Call the police, Tara, please,” You whisper, voice a beg, “Call the police right now.” 

“Stay on the line, babe,” Tara says. You hear the click of the car door, and Sam’s voice. Urgent. Desperate, “We’re coming right now. We figured it out - Ghostface is-” 

But you don’t hear what she says. 

Your Dad disappears into the kitchen for less than a second. Another loud crash sounds, then your Dad cries out. 

The shotgun blasts. 

Your Mom screams. 

Your ears ring as you drop your phone to the floor, the screen smashing instantly. 

“Dad?” You call out, hands shaking as you move your Mom behind you, “Dad, say something. Are you okay?” 

But he doesn’t say a thing. 

Blood pounds through your body. Your mother starts to cry. Adrenaline floods through you. 

And suddenly you know exactly what you need to do. 

“Run.” You tell your Mom. 

Your legs feel like jelly as you sprint through the living room, your Mom close behind. You make it to the foyer, looking behind you wildly in an attempt to see if anyone’s behind you. You press your hand against the handle and attempt to draw it open. 

But it stays firm, locked. 

“It’s the alarm system,” Says your Mother, face thick with tears, “The house is on lockdown, Daddy set it up to go through our phones.” 

“So get your phone out.” You hiss. 

She fumbles around in her pockets and draws out her phone. You watch the hallway. It’s quiet. Eerie. No sign of your Dad, and no sign of anyone else. You eye the living room window, thinking. 

“It won’t unlock,” Your mother says, voice frantic. 

You seize the phone from her hands, fiddle around in the app. UNLOCK is near the center, a bright green button. You press it once. Then twice, but nothing happens. 

As if it’s been overridden. 

“Window,” You mumble, “Mom, get to the window. I’ll break it.” 

It happens in a flash. 

One moment you’re dropping her phone to the floor, in an effort to grab her hand and run. 

And the next, you see him. 

Black cloak. Mask pulled over his face. 

Your Dad’s shotgun in his hands. Blood coated over his gloves, gleaming in the daylight. 

“Run!” You scream out. 

Your Mother sprints. Ghostface raises the weapon, lets out a single shot that rings out heavy into the air. It misses, flies off into the wall behind you. 

“Don’t move.” Says Ghostface, voice contorted, “Move and you die.” 

But you don’t listen. The gun isn’t reloaded - you don’t know much about weapons, but you’ve seen your Dad shoot it before. You tear off, ignoring his angry cry out as you follow your Mom into the living room. 

Your Mom grabs a nearby lamp, flings it wildly at the window. It shatters, almost as loudly as the shotgun. Pieces of broken glass litter the carpet, but it's the least of your worries. 

You leap over the couch, take your Mother’s hand and lead her to the window. 

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you see him again. 

He’s loading pellets into the shotgun, and then, with a quiet click, he raises it once more. 

But he doesn’t point it at you. 

“Mom!” You scream. 

Another blast sounds out. You grip either side of your head, ears ringing painfully at the sound. Your mother screams, and then falls to the floor. 

Blood spills thick and fast onto the carpet. 

You drop down, watch in horror as you catch sight of the wound. It’s gory, bloody, half of her leg blasted clean off. She wails, eyes wide in agony, clutching at her leg as if it will fall off if she lets go. 

“Mom.” You sob. You grip her shoulders, in a feeble attempt to drag her to the window. 

You should run. You should leave her and run. 

But you can’t. 

She’s your Mother. 

And it’s just the distraction Ghostface needs. 

Your Mom looks up at you, mouth open in horror as sees him, looming behind you.  

“YN!” She cries out. 

But you don’t turn in time. 

You feel the hard press as the back of the shotgun slams against your head. 

And then everything turns black. 

-

You feel like you’re floating. 

Over the earth, mind dizzy, like you’ve been launched into space without an oxygen mask. 

There are stars behind your eyes. The back of your head aches, unpleasantly. You can feel something wet against the back of your neck, trickling down underneath your shirt. You groan, move your hand to wipe it away. 

And then you realize your hands are bound behind your back. 

Panic surges through you as you remember your last moments of consciousness. 

Your Dad, walking into the kitchen with a shotgun. The bang of the bullet. 

Your Mom, screaming, writhing in pain on the living room floor, shotgun pellet in her leg. 

Ghostface. 

You open your eyes, chest heaving. 

Everything’s fuzzy, blurred. It hurts to look. The room is dark, save for a single ceiling lamp, flickering as if it’s down to its last few minutes of light. You squint, trying to make out your surroundings. 

You’re in a basement, maybe. It’s dirty, dusty. Unused. Somewhere completely unfamiliar. 

A wave of nausea floods through you. 

Your head pounds. The wetness seeping down onto the back of your neck is blood, you realize all at once. 

Your phone is broken, gone. 

And Ghostface stands in front of you, shimmering dagger in his hands. 

You tug at your restraints, hysteria surging through you. 

Ghostface has taken you somewhere. To his house, maybe. To somewhere the police, and Tara won’t be able to find you. There’s no sign of your mother, or your father. 

It’s quiet. 

The only sounds are the desperate fidgeting of your hands and the heavy noise of his breathing. 

But it’s hopeless. 

Your hands are bound too tight. You have no weapon, and you feel light. Dizzy. Like even if you managed to stand you’d pass out instantly. 

It’s the end, you realize all at once. 

He has you. And this is how you’re going to die. 

You swallow, squint a little harder, ignoring the waves of sickness that flood through you. 

And suddenly you only want to know one thing. 

“Who are you?” You mumble, “Please. Tell me what you want.”  

“Who am I?” Ghostface says. He tilts his head, and you can hear the sneer in his voice. He drops his dagger, then curls his fingers around the edge of the mask. 

It pulls off in one clean swipe. 

Gone is the mystery. The unfamiliarity. 

Your heart drops. 

You’ve seen this face before. Not once or twice. 

You’ve seen this face so many times in the last twenty-four hours. You remember never wanting to see it again. 

But she’s here. 

She has you here. 

Blood streaming down your neck, hands bound so tight your fingertips are starting to lose feeling. 

She stands a little taller, drops her robes and tosses the mask to the floor. 

Blonde hair, wide blue eyes. 

The spitting image of him. 

Sheriff’s badge pressed to her chest. 

And suddenly it all falls into place. 

She leans in, until she’s so close you can see the untamed lunacy in her eyes. She looks wild, deranged as she tilts the blade against your cheek. 

There’s nothing in her eyes but pure, unadulterated hatred. 

And then her lips curls as she spits out:  “I’m the mother of the boy you murdered.”

[howlinchickhowl]

It's posting day for my @gallavichthings Gift Exchange gift! I got @rayrayor and I wrote a little something for their prompt about Mickey being a 'straight' patron of Ian's gay bar. Happy gift exchange, I hope you enjoy it!

(There's no warnings and it's fairly PG)

You're Like In Love With Me - a gallavich a.u. fiction 🫶

Someone at the brewery has it in for Ian, he’s decided. They’ve assigned him the world’s weediest delivery guy, who manages to shift one keg for every seven Ian hauls off his truck, and always gets to Ian ‘after lunch’, which, tends to be closer to dinner than lunch in Ian’s opinion, and leaves him very little time to get everything stocked and inventoried and get a break in before the evening rush starts.

He’s sweating buckets as he waves the guy off and staggers back out into the main bar for some ice water. He rounds the bar and snags a dishcloth from Joni who wrinkles their nose up at him as he swipes it over his forehead and the back of his neck.

Joni doesn’t sweat, it’s a point of pride for them. Ian isn’t sure if they actually aren’t capable of sweating, or if they just avoid any activity that could possibly cause them to perspire.  If he was at home with his siblings, Ian would shake his head like a wet dog, sending droplets flying all over every surface and into the faces of any person standing close enough. But last year when he took over from Gigi she made him sit through like thirty hours of online health and safety and food hygiene training, and there is an open container of cut limes on the back bar that he can’t in good conscience condemn with his bodily fluids. So he holds himself back and focuses on getting himself a drink and trying not to be too obvious about checking out his favorite regular.

Mickey Milkovich has been coming to The Scratching Post since before Ian’s time, before it was ever even a gay bar, according to the man himself. When he was a kid, before the neighborhood ‘went to shit’ – Mickey’s colorful way of saying got gentrified by the u-haul lesbians and professional gays – it was something of a slum. And Mickey grew up a regular little slumdog. Before The Scratching Post was The Scratching Post, it was The Alibi Room, and the way Mickey tells it, it was basically his dad’s office. He’s told Ian stories about how he used to sit in one of the booths and watch his dad take book or make deals, how he got his first tattoo from the owner’s cousin who was trying to rustle up enough bail money to get her boyfriend out of jail after he shot up their apartment during a bad trip. How his older brother lost his virginity in the upstairs room when it was a short-lived brothel. How the whole fabric of his life is tied up in this place, like he’s just as much a part of it as the stains on the carpet that they’ve never bothered to change.

So now that Mickey is out of prison (attempted murder, but according to Mickey it was a trumped up bullshit charge and if he wanted to murder someone he would fucking succeed) and back living in the house he grew up in, he likes to drink in his neighborhood bar, even if it’s turned into some sort of haven for the L-G-B-T-Q-Whatever (his words). It’s home.

Ian doesn’t mind. Mickey’s a fast drinker and he can hold a lot of booze, and it never hurts to get some steady business during the day. And he likes Mickey. Kind of really likes him, actually. Sort of wouldn’t mind licking the inside of his mouth or tasting the sweat on the back of his neck. And that’s where he gets into a certain amount of trouble. Because Mickey Milkovich? Is straight.

Straight as a ramrod. Straight as a ruler. Straight as the day is long. Capital S Straight. So Ian tries not to think too much about how soft his lips look or how good he smells, and he also tries to keep it under wraps exactly how much he likes to look at the guy. He’s not gonna not look at him. But he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable in, from what Ian can gather, one of the only places he feels comfortable. And he also doesn’t want to get his ass kicked by a guy he has a crush on. He had enough of that kind of fun in high school.

So he grabs his pint of ice water and wipes his forehead with his stolen rag and he limits his glances to two seconds long with twenty second intervals. Or at least he thinks he does until Joni rolls their eyes at him and announces they are going on a smoke break, since he’s clearly gonna be there for a while anyway. He’d be annoyed but honestly, they’re right.

Mickey always sits in the same spot, on a high stool at the bar just where it’s curved around enough so that he can easily see the door but not so far that he can’t see who’s coming and going from the restroom or the back. His vigilance is quiet, but noticeable if you know what you’re looking for. Or if you just spend a lot of time looking.

He’s in his spot today, left hand curled loosely around his beer like he likes to be ready to drink at any moment, and he’s smiling down at his phone in a way that has Ian’s tummy start to fizz with little sparks of jealousy. What’s got him smiling like that? He’s desperate to know.

He doesn’t always talk to Mickey every time he comes in, he tries to show a respectful level of interest, though if you polled his employees they would probably say he fails at that. He does some quick math in his head while grabbing another rag and starting to wipe down the bar top, making his way down toward Mickey’s end. Today is Wednesday, Mickey didn’t come in yesterday, on Monday Ian kept his distance, and he hadn’t worked Sunday. That meant that their last interaction had been Saturday. Four days. That’s a decent interval, he figures, and he carries on wiping over the bar, trying to come up with a subtle way to find out what has made Mickey smile.

“That your girl?” Is what he’s got by the time he’s stood in front of Mickey, and it may not be subtle but it’s all he could think of.

“Huh?” Mickey asks, looking up.

“You uh, you look like something in your phone is making you real happy, I thought maybe it was a girl.”

“Oh, Uh.” Mickey looks down at his phone and then back up at Ian, his lips tugging down into a half frown. “No.”

He closes his phone and shoves it in his back pocket, eyes shifting around the room as he takes a sip of his beer. There’s something kind of shifty about it, like Ian’s made him uncomfortable somehow, and if Ian had more self-control he’d call this one a loss and find an excuse to leave him be. But his discipline only extends to his exercise regime and diet apparently because he finds himself unable to walk away, quietly desperate to know what Mickey had been looking at.

“So what d’you win a bet?”

Mickey huffs a laugh and sticks hi phone in his back pocket, Ian wipes a spot on the bar that he’s already wiped clean three times.

“Naw man, just a picture of my sister looking fuckin’ dumb in a squirrel hat.”

Ok. Not what Ian had been expecting.

“A…squirrel? Hat?”

“Yeah it’s for her job or whatever, she looks like a fuckin’ idiot.”

His words are harsh, but the smile that’s spreading over his lips is kind of soft, like he is actually kind of fond of his sister. Ian’s never seen him smile like that before. His smile is always kind of dirty, or wry, or sometimes bordering on a grimace, this is different, and Ian feels like he’s unlocked a new Mickey nugget. He wonders if he can get some more.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“Two brothers, one sister.” He takes a gulp of his beer and then does a thoughtful little shrug. “That I know of. The way my dad was though, wouldn’t be too shocked if I got a bunch more I don’t know about.”

There’s that wry smile that Ian’s used to, with a half an eye roll that belies a lifetime of dealing with a parent who never stops disappointing you. It’s an eyeroll Ian has performed many a time himself.

“God yeah me too. I got at least one half-sister who showed up out of the blue a few years back, but I could be related to half the city for all I know.”

“Half the redheads at least.” And there’s the dirty smile. He’s mentioned Ian’s hair a few times, most people tease him about it a little, it’s no big deal. He imagines Mickey would have terrorized him if they’d known each other as kids, chasing him around calling him Carrot Top or Little Orphan Annie. This is kind of a gentle tease though, something warm, accompanied with a squint that could almost be a wink, if Mickey Milkovich was the kind of guy who winked, and it spurs Ian on.

“I knew this girl in high school, her dad had so many kids running around that she had to ask people for their family tree before she would hook up with them.”

Mickey almost chokes on his beer.

“Fuck me, should I be doing that?”

“I don’t know. She had a close call once, and her dad literally had like, thirty kids.”

“No shit.”

“Yeah, so, next time you’re lookin’ to hook up with someone, just, ask for a DNA screening first I guess.”

Mickey nods, and then the air sort of drops out of the conversation, like it has nowhere left to go. Mickey gulps the last of his beer in one huge mouthful that puffs his cheeks out and sort of makes him look like he’s chewing it, and the only thing Ian can think to say is to ask him if he wants another.

“Nah I’m good, gotta get back.” He throws some cash down on the bar to cover his tab and is out the door with his arms still shoving into his jacket before Ian can even say syanora.

And then he doesn’t come back for three weeks.

It’s not like Ian’s moping, Joni can fuck off for implying that. The bar is busy and he has a lot to do and employees to manage and siblings to deal with. But in the afternoons sometimes he’ll find himself staring at the empty space where Mickey would normally be and wondering, kind of forlornly, if the guy is ever coming back. Trying to figure out what he did or said in that last conversation that pissed him off so bad he would forsake his childhood bar.

Ian misses him. His expressive face and his disgusting sense of humour, and the way he makes Ian feel, like on edge and at ease at the same time. It just sucks, not seeing him, and not knowing why.

And then one day, three weeks and four days since The Scratching Post had last seen hide or hair of him, he’s back, sitting on his regular stool when Ian gets done mopping the bathrooms.

It gives him a jolt, a little shiver of excitement running down his spine as he shoves the mop in the corner and rounds the bar.

“Haven’t seen you around here lately.” He greets Mickey, as casually as he can, and Mickey looks up, kind of startled, and then looks down at the bar. Or. There’s a white envelope sitting there, and he seems fixated on it.  

“Everything ok Mick?”

Mickey nods, a quick little jerk of a thing, eyes fixed on the envelope. He doesn’t even have a drink in front of him.

“You want a beer?”

He shakes his head, brings his right hand up to lay his fingertips over the envelope and slide it across the bar toward Ian.

“What’s this?” Ian picks it up, there’s no name on it, no details, it’s not sealed but he’s still not sure if he should open it. Mickey’s looking up at him when he’s done inspecting it.

“It’s uh.” His bright blue eyes flick away and then back again, are they wetter than usual? They seem so shiny when they finally rest back on Ian. “It’s a DNA test.”

“A DNA test?”

“Yeah. We um. We ain’t related. So.”

He raps his knuckles on the bar a couple of times in a short sharp knock that he must think serves as a suitable stop to this most bizarre of conversations, and clambers off his stool, heading for the door.

“Wait Mickey—What?!”

“Just. Read it.”

The door has barely had time to swing shut before Ian is practically tearing the envelope in his haste to look at the paper inside. It’s exactly what Mickey said, a DNA test, comparing Mickey’s DNA to his own, which, he’s gonna have to talk to him about where he got a sample of Ian’s DNA from, and confirming that there’s no overlap. In the top right corner, in a chicken scratch of a hand, Mickey has scrawled the words ‘just in case’ and then a phone number, and Ian almost drops his phone in the ice trough in his rush to pull it out of his pocket and send a text.

[2:34pm]         I thought you were straight?

The reply buzzes through almost immediately, like maybe Mickey’s stood outside looking at his phone waiting to see what happens.

[2:34pm]         Good.

It’s a very Mickey text, and something about it makes Ian feel warm, like he’s being trusted with something Mickey doesn’t trust a lot of people with.

[2:35pm]         Where did you get a sample of my DNA??

[2:35pm]         That really what you wanna be asking me right now?

[2:35pm]         I’ve got a lot of things I want to ask you.

[2:36pm]         So come outside, I don’t got all day.

It’s possible that Ian knocks over a stool and drops his dishcloth on the floor, he’s got bigger fish to fry.

[deliriumsdelight7]

Okay so I'm too afraid to watch Stranger Things (I have on good authority that it would actually break me) but I feel like I Need to know about hellcheer, what are the most important things to know xD

You, my friend, are in luck, because Hellcheer has all of, like, five minutes of interactions. I’ll only show you the video for the good one so as not to break you. This scene OOZES chemistry:

As for things to know, I will do my best to stick with strictly canon material and avoid headcanons (of which there are many).

For Chrissy Cunningham:

1.) She is a senior in high school, head cheerleader.

2.) She is dating the captain of the basketball team, Jason Carver.

3.) She is being plagued by visions from an otherworldly creature who is essentially feeding off of her trauma. That’s why she’s so jumpy in the clip.

4.) She has an eating disorder. This manifests in her visions as a table full of food that is rotting and fly-infested.

5.) Her mother is abusive. This manifests in her visions with her mother at a sewing machine altering Chrissy’s clothes to fit. Additionally, in the vision, her father is sewn to his recliner, his eyes and mouth sewn shut - implying that he has been violently blinded, immobilized, and silenced by his wife.

6.) Later in the night the same day as the above scene, Chrissy goes to Eddie’s trailer so he can sell her ketamine to try to ignore her visions. The creature haunting her takes this opportunity to kill her brutally in front of Eddie.

For Eddie Munson:

1.) Eddie is loud and abrasive. Compare the scene where he’s introduced to how soft he is with Chrissy:

2.) Eddie lives in a trailer with his uncle. According to the prequel book, his mother is dead and his father is in jail. His father taught him to hotwire cars when he was a kid.

3.) Eddie has been held back twice. His goal is to graduate high school, flip off the principal, and get out of Hawkins, Indiana.

4.) He is not the same person after Chrissy dies. He is deeply traumatized, and blames himself for running away and leaving her in his trailer (even though she was already dead).

5.) Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, is Eddie’s number one supporter. This guy is continuing to shelter his twenty-year-old drug dealer metalhead nephew when he has no obligation to. When he comes home from work to see a dead cheerleader in his trailer, he is 100% positive Eddie didn’t do it. We would all die for Uncle Wayne.

6.) In the last episode of the season, Eddie goes into the alternate dimension where the evil creature lurks and plays Master of Puppets by Metallica as a distraction. Now, people take this as Eddie being a guitar prodigy because that song came out only WEEKS before the events of this season. But more importantly: he dedicates his performance to Chrissy.

(Only the first few seconds of this are relevant)

7.) Chrissy’s death affects Eddie right up to his own. He successfully distracts the creatures in the alternate dimension. He’s in the process of returning to his own when he stops, turns around, and sacrifices himself in order to keep the monsters at bay a little longer. As he’s dying, he says, “I didn’t run away this time.”

Jason Carver (because no Beauty and the Beast style ship is complete without a Gaston):

1.) Jason is Chrissy’s boyfriend and the captain of the basketball team. He is handsome and well-liked, but very self-centered. One of the first times we see him, he takes a town tragedy - a “mall fire” that killed dozens - and makes it about his upcoming basketball game.

2.) When Chrissy dies, he goes off the rails. He gathers his teammates, packs his trunk full of weapons, and goes hunting for Eddie.

3.) We never really see Jason sad about Chrissy’s death. He’s only angry. There’s a scene where a classmate offers her condolences to Jason. He changes the subject.

4.) When someone tells Jason that Chrissy went to Eddie because she was scared, he grows angry and says that she would have come to him. Kinda says a lot about the relationship.

5.) Fun fact: the actor who played Jason based his personality off of Tom Cruise and mega church leaders. Yikes.

Parallels:

1.) ‘86: Chrissy wears a 1986 necklace, and Eddie says that ‘86 is going to be his year.

2.) We never see either character out of their “uniform” - her cheerleading outfit and his Hellfire Club t-shirt (his DnD club).

3.) Both characters were victims of the town’s perception of them. Chrissy didn’t get the help she needed because her life seemed so perfect. Eddie was pursued by a literal mob because the town succumbed to Satanic Panic.

4.) Both had parents who put unfair expectations on them: Chrissy’s mother put the burden of beauty on her, and Eddie’s dad made him help steal cars.

Hopefully that’s a good jumping off point! If anybody else wants to chime in with anything I missed, feel free!

Let me know if you want popular headcanons to go with it!

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

First day

Originally posted on my Wattpad @MayaBishop_is_myWife

Alex Vause x reader

!!TW: mention of murder and vague drug mention!!

Work count:: 1.2k (not proof read)

Alex POV: (Alex and Piper aren't together in this)

I walked into the cafeteria and joined the que to get lunch, another day of sloppy something, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. Yum, I can't complain though because it's better than nothing and if I do complain Red will starve me out. Brushing off hat thought, I get my food and saunter over to a table with some of my friends on it, Morello, Chapman and Nicky.  I take a seat and listen in on their conversation. 

Nicky - "No c'mon, she's hot."

Piper - "I agree, I mean have you seen her. The eyes, hair the hair!" dragging out the r sound at the end as if to make a point.

Alex - "Who you talking about?"

Nicky - "That new girl that showed up in the van this morning, she's very good lookin' although she's been crying in the bathroom since she got here so maybe not the most stable girl in here."

Morello - "There's worse trust me, and besides why are you all getting so worked up about this? Yeah she's nice to look at but what if she has someone outside of here? You know, like a boyfriend or girlfriend or someone, she might even be married for all you know?"

Nicky - "Yeah but you said it, she's nice to look at tuts, she's gunna be getting looks from all over. If she stops crying of course."

At this point my interest was piqued and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about so once I'd sat, had a tal and eaten my food I was going to go find this mystery girl and find out if they're actually telling the truth.

Y/n POV:

I can't believe I actually did that. I killed her. I killed my own mother. I keep telling myself it was the only way out but everytime I think about it the guilt and self resentment creeps back in. My mum had munchausen by proxy and she made me believe I was sick and could walk or do practically anything by myself. I really didn't see any other way out so, one night I just did it. Obviously I feel terrible and wish I'd never done it but, there really was no other way out. Anyway, it's done now and I'm in jail, thankfully not maximum security because people could see my side of the story and saw I wasn't just a cold-blooded killer. 

I've been at Litchfield a little over 5 hours now and as soon as I was allowed to go off and do my thing, I went straight for the bathroom and I've been crying ever since. Somehow, I managed to get the only stall with a door so thankfully people can't just watch me cry, hear me yes but watch, no.

All day people have been staring and I don't know why. Maybe they think I'm fucked up for what I did or something. I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a soft knock on the door. 

Alex - "Hey, you okay in there? Stupid question I know because well, you're crying but I still feel like I have to ask."

I bite my lip and sigh before responding, I didn't expect anyone to actually care.

Y/n -  "Uhm- yeah, I guess I'm okay. Not my ideal situation but you know, life goes on."

Alex - "Yeah well you got that one right."

After that a not awkward but not totally comfortable silence fell over us. I slowly stood up and unlocked the door. I stepped out and tried to dry my face from the copious amount of tears I'd shead in the past hours of being here. Instantly this woman picked up on it and gently held my face in one hand and helped me wipe my tears with the other.

Alex - "You'll be okay, I'm going to be brutally honest with you, the first few days are actual hell, you'll miss everything and everyone but, I'll be here is you ever want to talk about it okay? Oh, and I'm Alex by the way, but everyone calls me Vause, it's my last name." 

I smiled at Alex and nodded my head a small thank you leaving my lips. She pulled me into her embrace and held me tight. 

Alex - "You know, they were right."

I was confused because I had not a single idea what she was going on about. So, I pulled my head slightly away from her shoulder and looked at her.

Y/n - "What do you mean? Who's right?"

Alex - "Oh just my friends, they said some stiff about how you were really good looking and what not."

You felt a blush creep across my face as you looked into her gorgeous green eyes only now just realising after looking a her properly just how beautiful she really was. A sly smirk found it's way onto her lips before she spoke again. 

Alex - "Hey, don't get all shy on me now."

A she said that her hand found it's way to my waist as she pulled me closer again. Whilst she trailed her other hand up my body and hooked a finger around my chin so I'd look her in the eyes.

Y/n - "You really mean it?"

Alex - "Of course I do, I mean I've known you what, like 2 minutes and I'm already calling you beautiful I think that speaks for itself ." 

I giggle a bit and looked down in an attempt to hide my flustered face yet again, knowing she was right. I looked her in the eyes again only to see her eyes had never left me and she had a wide smile of her face. 

Alex POV:

I looked down slightly because I was a bit taller than her and just marvelled at this gorgeous girl in front of me she had glowing y/h/c hair and shining y/e/c eyes, her smile could light up a room and her laugh was so fucking adorable. Normally, I'm not the one to fall over small stuff like this but she was different,  I don't know why, she just was.

She looked me back in the eyes and I couldn't help myself anymore, I leaned in and captured her lips in mine. They fit together like puzzle pieces. Her hand found their way into my hair while mine rested on the small of her back keeping her safe in my arms. I swiped my tongue over her bottom lip asking for entrance and she happily agreed. She tugged on my hair a little so in return I grazed my teeth over her bottom lip and she let out a small breathy moan which was almost silent but, I could still hear it. We broke away for ir and as soon as we separated we crashed our lips back together hungrily. She was almost as addictive as some of the things women in the jail used to do. 

Just as things were getting heated someone burts into the bathroom.

Healy - "INMATES NO LESBIAN ACTIVITY ALLOWED!"

We both untangled ourselves from each other and apologised. As he left I whispered in her ear. 

Y/n POV:

Alex - "He won't catch us tonight sweetheart don't worry. I'll have you all to myself, I'll make you feel better."

She then gave me a final eck on the lips and walked out the bathroom. Oh man, I was not going to get much sleep on my first night in prison.

[mynameismckenziemae]

can you do a bob x reader? anything w protective bob? i’m a sucker for a “who did this to you?” trope🤭 i trust your creativity and writing, take any liberties!!

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! A-hole ex boyfriends, talks of previous domestic abuse, violence, blood, (non consensual) derogatory language, a little smutty-smut at the end.

This is a bonus scene from Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone (first chapter here)

________________________________________

“We’re meeting the caterers at the venue at 5 but otherwise we don’t have anything planned for today,” you tell Bob as you brush mascara on your lashes.

You were back home in Minnesota with Bob for a long weekend to see family and do some wedding planning.

“What would you do on a cold rainy day growing up?” Bob asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Roller skating, but the rink closed shortly after I graduated high school, otherwise we’d go to the mall or the movies. That’s actually where I had my first kiss with Andrew Fischer,” you sigh dreamily just to tease him.

He’s on to you though and pinches your butt. “Can I take you to the movies?”

“I’d love that. Maybe you’ll get a kiss too, if you’re lucky.”

________________________________________

“I’ll drop you by the door and meet you inside after I park,” Bob says as he pulls into the lot.

“Thanks, not sure you’d want to be seen with me if my hair were to get wet,” you laugh as you check it in the mirror. Your hair was a curly mess on a good day; the humidity was making it borderline out of control.

He shifts into park and grips your knee before you get out. “I love your hair, and there’s nothing about you that would make me embarrassed to be seen with you, Sun.”

You’d been kidding but the reassurance was always nice.

“Love you,” you smile and press a kiss to his lips. “Meet you in there.”

________________________________________

You wait in the quiet lobby, humming to yourself while you watch for Bob.

“Sunny?”

A cold chill runs down your spine at that voice.

“Hi Di-Derek,” you say, almost calling him dickhead (Bradley’s fitting nickname for your ex-boyfriend).

You haven’t seen him since you caught him in bed with another woman and were happy to see he looks awful

“I thought that was you, I thought I’d say hi since I was walking past. What are you doing here? Last I heard you were still in Cali, fucking some guy in the army,” he says casually, like what he just said isn’t extremely offensive.

“I-I’m not…we’re-,” you stutter but trail off as he keeps talking, stepping closer as your back hits the wall.

“You know, you could lose a few pounds, and fix this god-awful hair,” he says, tugging none too gently on a strand, smiling at your wince. “Otherwise you look good. I’d still fuck you.”

“I suggest you back away from my fiancé,” Bob says lowly from behind you both.

“Fiancé? Why didn’t you say so?” Derek laughs in your face before pushing away from you and turning to Bob. “I’m Derek, Sunny’s-“

“Pathetic ex who cheated on her,” Bob finishes for him.

Derek’s fuming as he laughs cruelly. “Can you blame me? I know she was cheating on me too. Always gone, always begging for other guys' attention like the slut-“

You flinch at the sickening crack of his nose when Bob’s fist meets his nose.

“What the fuck?! You’re gonna regret that. I’m calling the cops,” he sputters as he reaches for his phone, blood pouring from his obvious broken nose.

“I wouldn’t do that, Derek,” you say, finding your voice. “Unless you want to be sitting in jail too.”

“Why?! He hit me?!” He says, shaking with rage as he tries to stem the flow of blood with his coat sleeve.

“Remember that night at the Hard Deck? When you grabbed my arms and slammed my head against the wall? Not only do I have pictures of the bruises you left but Penny has the video of it too,” you say, proud that your voice isn’t trembling.

“I barely touched your arms! And I didn’t slam your head against-whatthefuckever, it doesn’t matter anyway—that was months ago! It wouldn’t hold up in court,” he argues.

“Maybe, maybe not. But Bob here is one of those ‘top 1% naval aviators’ along with Bradley and Jake-who haven’t gone after you only because I said not to. You have no idea what lengths the Navy would go to protect them and how easily things can get swept under the rug,” you saw lowly.

His face pales when he realizes your implication and scrambles to his feet, muttering a half-assed apology before running outside.

Bob checks you over before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, “I’m okay. I never cheated on him, you know that, right?” You murmur against his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know you didn’t. Do you want to get out of here?”

You take a deep breath. “No, I’m not going to let him ruin our day.”

________________________________________

“Is your hand okay?” You ask as you take your assigned seats.

“Yeah it’s fine, I didn’t hit him that hard.”

“Hard enough to break his nose,” you laugh. “It’s gonna hurt like a bitch when they set it.”

“Good,” he says darkly.

“Was that the first time you’ve punched someone?”

“Besides when I was a kid fighting with my brother? Yeah.”

The previews start but you can’t seem to forget how hot it was when Bob didn’t hesitate to defend you. It reminded you of something.

“Do you remember the night we met and you scared of that jackass who called me a whore at the Hard Deck?” You whisper.

“Yeah, I remember everything from that night,” he responds, brushing hair off your forehead.

You smile. “Then you remember what I said after?”

His eyes darken as he recalls. “You said too bad we’d just met because you wanted to get on your knees to show your gratitude.”

You nod as you sink to your knees in front of him.

“Right now? Here?” He whispers as he looks around. But it’s just the two of you in the empty theater.

He’s already hard when pull him out of his gray sweatpants. You waste no time and use your hands with your mouth to work him over.

His head falls back with a low groan as he cums, filling your mouth as the opening credits come across the screen.

Just as you sit back down, an elderly couple enters the theater, sitting just a few seats over.

You can’t help but giggle when Bob shakes his head with a chuckle of his own.

________________________________________

Later you send a message to the group chat as Bob drives to the caterer.

Sunny: Guess who we saw today?

Rowan: Please don’t say Derek.

Sunny: It was Derek.

Bradley: *dickhead.

Sunny: Yeah…I almost called him that 😬

Bradley: Why didn’t you?

Sunny: I was waiting for Bob to park and he kinda had against the wall.

Bob parks and checks his phone.

Bob: He literally had her against the wall when I walked in.

Nat: OMG Sunny! Are you okay? Did he hurt you?

Rowan: Holy shit! Are you alright?!

Jake: What the fuck?! I’m gonna fucking kill him. I should’ve that night.

Bradley: ^Agreed.

Sunny: It’s okay. I was a little shaken up but I’m okay too.

Rowan: Thank God. How’d you get him to leave you alone?

Sunny: Bob rearranged his face with his fist ☺️

Jake: HELL YEAH!

Bradley: That’s my boy!

Nat: Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more Bob. 😍

Jake: Hey!

Nat: 😘

Rowan: Hahaha that’s awesome! Did he call the cops though? I could definitely see him calling the cops

Bob: He was going to until Sunny put him in his place.

Sunny: I brought up the pictures I took of the bruises and the video Penny sent me. I also told him how Jake and Bradley would have no problem going after him. I might’ve also said that the Navy wouldn’t hesitate to cover for them too 🤫

Jake: Fuckin ‘a right!

Bradley: I’d gladly sit in prison for that.

Rowan: ^That’s fine, but only if there are conjugal visits

Bradley: Duh 🙄

Rowan: Watch it Bradley…

Bradley: Yes ma’am 🫡

Jake: Gross…

Jake: Kidding, please go on. I wanna see how this plays out.

Nat: ^Agreed🍿

Sunny: Lolol I love you guys.

You silence your phone with a smile as Bob opens your door and offers his hand.

________________________________________

A/N: I hope I did it justice @lexixstewart

Tagging (please lmk if I’m annoying you by tagging you! I’ll take you off my taglist!):

@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@mrsrobertfloyd5

@charmedkim

@k-k0129

@bellaireland1981

@ingoaliesitrust

@hookslove1592

@amiets2

@nero4te

@eli2447

@atarmychick007

@vixenobrian

[amymbona]

hii I wanted to make a request for Arthur from La chimera where reader is the younger sister of Beniamina who has been secluding herself from her family and others since her sister’s disappearance. she’s very soft spoken and shy. she finds comfort in Arthur when he returns from jail and the lines between them begin to blur from a friendship to a romance 🥲🥲 rlly hope that makes senseee

THAT'S SUCH A GOOD IDEA WHAT THE HELL. THE TRAGEDY OF IT. 😫😫😫😫😫

Ever since the disappearance of your sister, you haven't spoken a full sentence, completely secluding yourself from the outer world. And not just that. You've completely abandoned your past life, got rid of all the hints that have ever resembled your sister.

Out of the whole family, you are definitely the one grieving the hardest. Most of your siblings, even your mother seem to have accepted the current circumstances and got adapted to the life without Beniamina. But you're unable to do so.

Despite erasing every single hint of your sister's existence, which you initially thought was going to help you cope, you're totally unable to move on. Locked in the crumbling shack left after Beniamina's late boyfriend who you haven't heard of for good three years, you only go out to use the shittier, even tinier shack to resemble a toilet stall. Other than that, it's possible to say you haven't seen the sunlight in years.

The quiet, from the other perspective tranquil, way of living is disturbed on a random January night when the floorboards freak under a pair of heavy footsteps. With a startled gasp, you snap awake and almost fall down from the bed, immediately reaching a lighter to provide you with some light in the dark night.

In front of you, his figure outlined by the moonlight that peeks through the cracks in the walls stands the man you haven't seen for so many years. The lanky englishman with his usual pouty expression and slouched shoulders as he's struggling to fit under the low ceiling of the room. And he seems to be equally as bewildered as you to discover someone occupying his past home.

It could be read in both of your expressions, the dreamy glow in your eyes, the slight part of your lips and the way both of you release a shaky breath. It's so evident that some hidden parts of you two were longing to be met with the sight of one person only. And both of your hearts break to discover that mysterious intruder on the other side isn't Beniamina.

Without a word, you scramble out of bed and tumble towards Arthur, falling right into his chest. His arms envelop you instantly, face buried in your hair as your clutch tightly onto the linen of his jacket. The hold is tight, so tight that you two might actually blend into one another with the force he is pulling you into him, both of you seeking another person's body within the embrace.

You stand like this for so long, saying absolutely nothing, because no words at needed. Both of you know what you feel, what exactly is going on in your minds and how disappointed you two are to face the other person. That night, you fall asleep, for the first time in years, held and comforted by the warmth of another, not shivering under the assault of the winter air.

Over the next few days, your life improves significantly. The two of you barely share a word and yet it's undeniable that there's so some sort of a connection between the two of you, as you learn to co-exist in mutual presence. Arthur is there to help you with tough body jobs, able to carry bigger logs for a fire and repair a hole in the roof. Thanks to him, you actually spend some more time outside, allowing your pale face to catch some colour.

Much to your disappointment, Arthur keeps disappearing quite a lot, never telling you where exactly. Sometimes, he's gone for the whole day, leaving you alone and just with your thoughts, making you worry that he's gonna leave you too. And with how close you've re-grown to Arthur over the short period of time, finding a much needed substitute for your long lost sister, you couldn't handle losing him as well.

It's almost a miracle how much has Arthur managed to improve your life, to give it a new sense of importance, purely because he allows you to be yourself. He never tells you that it's time to move on, to finally find peace in the life you have at the moment and get over the loss of you sister. He simply accepts you and your feelings, allows to let your tears get soaked into the fabric of his shirt and strokes your back as you slowly doze off against his chest. He cries too, when you're asleep, because he can't allow himself to look vulnerable in front of you, not when he's your protector now.

Arthur has found a resemblance of Beniamina in yourself, the same set of freckles almost mirroring hers splayed over your cheeks, in the way your lips curve up when you eventually find a reason to smile - that being anything but genuine joy - and the dimples in your cheeks. You share the same mannerisms with your sister, the tenderness of your touch and natural care you take about Arthur, smoothing down the crumpled fabric of his shirt and making coffee for him. Too much things remind you of his sister.

And perhaps that is the main reason why he slowly falls for you, adorned the tenderness in your relationship. The softness and shared moments of silence that he longs for, the honesty in your shared glances. He adores you for who you are, but the more he sees his long lost love in you, the more he feels he needs you. Perhaps it's selfish, and Arthur is aware, he was never a particularly morally clean person. But his grief for Beniamina couldn't do enough to make him a better man.

Unbeknownst to Arthur, you feel the exact same way about him, too, finding more and more obvious hints of your sister in him. He's a warm human, with subconscious care for others, offering gentle touches to ease you in certain directions and sit you down when you begin panicking. As much of an idiot as he can be, he's witty and shares the same kind of ironic humor that is enough to make you chuckle. He is capable of guiding you and taking care of you in the exact way you need it.

For so many things you miss, that have been taken away from you, you've latched onto every bit that Arthur is capable of offering you. It's such an absurd situation, how the reason for your mutual loved is fueled by that even deeper kind of love you both felt for Beniamina. And it's such a long way to go before either of you figures out that the following reasons for the shared affection are much more than that, and that your sister's disappearance could be, as unreal as it seems, overcome.

[tsutsumi-kurose]

Do you think Akane cares and tries to help people other than Aoi?

definitely!! I think this arc shows that more than ever before, honestly. he was fighting hard to keep this present even if he couldn’t be with aoi, as long as it was a safer present for the students of the school overall

but this arc isn’t the first time we’ve seen this, so i’ve collected some of my favorite examples of akane caring about/helping people other than aoi:

helping kou:

he is. trying his best lol. not an A+ performance in either instance but he DOES show up for him lol and he’s nice enough to kou that kou trusts him in a moment of distress—which honestly says a lot!! bc kou hates showing people when he’s in distress/hates asking for help!! (well… okay kou does ask natsuhiko for help too, so he’s maybe not the best judge of character… but hey akane shows up lol so that’s still a point for him)

tending to his boyfriend’s wounds caring about teru:

ugh. UGH. peak repressed yearning. “I want you to go to the infirmary bc it’s the rules and I’m stressed running everything NOT bc I care about you. actually I hate you, as you can tell from my super mean glare. now come with me I’ll walk you there <3” anyway yeah in summary I think he cares here lol. like yeah he’s in checklist student council mode but also—he’s in checklist mode!! he’s got more important stuff to worry about than walking a monster slayer to the nurses office!! and yet he does <3 he is bisexual and yearning cares!!

and my personal favorite, akane trying to help baby nene get out of jail time!!:

they were so cute here ugh. his little “yeah! yeah!” so encouraging so cute!! I love when people are nice to nene characters being nice to nene is my favorite thing actually everybody be nice to her she’s an angel!!!! she’s a star she’s doomed she’s full of love she’s just a girl!!!!!!!!!!!

sorry I got hit with a nene yashiro love beam at the end there lol but to answer your question: yes I think we see him going out of his way for other people a lot actually!! he’s probably the most reliable character in the entire manga tbh!! people are always going to him for help and I can’t think of an example of him not showing up for someone who needs him. I think aoi is obviously his priority, but he has his moments with other characters for sure!!