#unfortunately he's too stupid to get into law school

[zetsu--bou]

ngl if Aomine was smarter, he would be a lawyer, ain't no way he would be a cop. That dude would never "tHe ReAsOn I pUlLeD yOu OvEr", he would fight in court for the justice of the mistreated kids, he would help the parents sue any school that caused someone to lose their life or health, he would "dw i gotchu, the only one who can lose a case against me is me" and"your honor, the defendant is a fucking moron"

(or at least a crime investigator, but not a "hello 🤗 please do not disturb the peace 😁 thank you 😚" cop)

[hoodzgyal]

thinking about fucking stoner roy..he’s so smug about how he’s finally got you laid out for him after months of hitting on you

YAWPPPPP THIS MY SHIT RIGHT HEREEE

fratboy!roy has been plotting on you since seeing you during NSO week almost two years ago. unfortunately, you two were in totally different circles; hes a finance major who does little else than smoke, party with his fraternity brothers, and fuck around with the plenty of girls that are clamoring to get on his dick.

meanwhile, you’re an english major, pre-law, and entirely too focused on getting to law school to indulge in his petty flirtations. but for once in your life, your friends have dragged you out to a party that just so happened to be hosted in roy’s frat house.

you’re not sure what has you placing your hand on roy’s chest as he rumbles in your ear over the blaring music of the party, but whatever it is, also leads you to play with the silver chain around his neck as he talks you into standing outside with him on the secluded balcony.

it’s here where he’s a lot more forward than usual, tired of beating around the bush when it comes to you.

“y’know,” he sighs, basically caging you against the wall with his body, shielding you from the cool fall air, “i see you makin’ eyes at me and shit all the time, pretty.”

you’d have to stupid, or just incredibly naive not to see the way his eyes trace over your skin, the seen and unseen parts as if to undress you with his mind. he breathes deeply, seemingly thinking hard about his next words, the marijuana in his system making his thoughts hazy and unfinished, no doubt.

one of his large freckled hands seems to move on its own, pulling you closer to him by the belt loop.

he chucks your chin as his hazy green eyes lazily search yours as he angles his head down, his lips almost against your ear as he murmurs, “listen… i’m pretty,” he slurs, fluttering his eyelashes and giving you a winning smile, “you’re pretty… why dontcha let me take you out, mama? maybe even make you feel good after? i’d be on my best behavior, promise.”

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 3

I'm living for the love for this story!! Thank you everyone!

I'm sorry to say that any requests to be added to the tag list will be ignored. It's all full up! But! You can follow me and put on notifications. That seems to work for most people!

In this we have a lot of growing pains and the girls try everything they can think of to keep Eddie home.

Part 1 Part 2

~

The next couple of days were spent ironing out of the kinks and setting expectations. Like when Steve scolded Janice for pulling on Joan’s braids and she yelled back that she wasn’t the boss of her.

Both girls went running to their dad.

Eddie looked down at his two little sun spots. “I don’t know why you’re coming to me about this, if Steve saw Jannie pulling Joanie’s hair, then he had every right to call it out. Just like Chrissy, just your uncles. He is in charge while I’m gone, so you better get used to his authority. Both of you girls go sit on your time out chairs for five minutes.”

Both girls gasped in shock, but after an intense showdown, they did as they were told.

“Thanks for that,” Steve said with a huff. “There’s always a little bit of give and take for first couple of weeks, and you laying down the law will really help that.”

Eddie smiled up at him. “It’s just been a tough year for them both. They’re old enough to remember Ethan, but young enough that it’s all the good and none of the bad. So they don’t understand why he left. I’ve been talking to a couple of therapists that think once they’re a little older, they want to start seeing both girls.”

“Nothing quite as traumatic as abandonment issues from an early age,” Steve said with a nod.

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”

Steve sat down on the sofa with a sigh. “Unfortunately, yes. Only my parents did just enough to make sure I wasn’t taken away from them. Making sure their trips would only last long enough that it would be considered child abandonment and endangerment. Sending me gifts for my birthday and Christmas, but not being there.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Then as I got into high school, sending me money for groceries and gas. As well as a hefty allowance to make sure that I wouldn’t talk. ‘Let’ me throw lavish parties and then ground me when they found out. Only they would pack up and leave, knowing I’d ignore the grounding because they were gone. Just a bunch of stupid shit like that.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “In the Hall of Fame of shitty parents, that’s really up there, man.”

Steve let out a huff of bitter laughter. “I got the last laugh though. The second I turned eighteen and finished school, I told them I was running away with my best friend and joining the circus. Then I told them I was bisexual and never looked back.”

“So how was the circus?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“Not as fun as you’d expect,” Steve conceded. “Robin and I didn’t have anything like skills to be a performer, and wasn’t experienced in running the booths and rides, so we were part of the put up and take down crew.”

“So how did the nanny thing come about?” Eddie asked, crossing his legs and leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair.

“I used to babysit these kids when I was younger,” Steve said, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, “and when the one’s dad died and left a hefty life insurance to his mom. She suddenly was overwhelmed and hired me to nanny for her.”

Eddie thought back to the resumé the agency had sent over. “Mrs. Henderson, right?”

“That’s the one,” Steve leaned back on the sofa. “Dustin was a good kid. Too smart and arrogant for his own good.”

“Then of course, Mrs. Henderson recommended me to her friends,” Steve said. “One of them said they would only hire me through an agency. My ex-girlfriend happened to work at a nanny agency while she was going to school and offered to put in a good word for me.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “That was nice of an ex. I don’t know if I have any exes that would do the same for me.”

Steve just shrugged. “We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms either, but I used to babysit her younger siblings and knew how good I was. Nancy Wheeler is nothing but logical. She knew I would be good at it.”

“I spoke to a Nancy earlier,” Eddie said thoughtfully. “She really went to bat for you.”

“That’s Nance for ya,” Steve huffed. “Tenacious to a fault. This is her last semester at college and then she’s going to go to Emerson to get her journalism degree. She wanted to get her generals out of the way so she wasn’t paying out the ass for them.”

Eddie smiled. “Looks like I really lucked out then.”

“I guess you did,” Steve said softly. “I did too. Having you here these last couple of days have really helped out. They are still going to have the worst meltdowns during that first week you’re gone, but knowing you’ve already set the boundary they’ll only butt against it instead crossing it.”

Eddie smirked. “They’ve chased off nannies before. It’s why I have a very specific list of do’s and don’t’s with anyone I hire.”

“Oh I don’t doubt it,” Steve chuckled. “Normally, I’d put them to bed, but because it’s your last night with them, I’d suggest you do it.”

“Of course,” Eddie said softly. “Thank you for taking good care of them, Steve. I’m really grateful to be leaving them in such capable hands. I don’t want to go on this tour, not really. But I need a break. I love my girls, but with Ethan leaving it feels like he took away my right to chose how to live my life.”

Steve got up and moved to the desk and sat down on it half way. “But at least you have the money and the wherewithal to make sure they are taken care of. Every parent needs a break once in awhile. You’ll go out there make your fans happy and then when you come back, you’ll appreciate them all the more for leaving.”

Eddie looked up at him, then his eyes fluttered shut. He pursed his lips together and leaned his head back. He opened his eyes to look at him again. “You don’t think I’m being a bad parent?”

“It does you no good to burn yourself out,” Steve soothed. “It would do them more harm if you burned out and couldn’t take care of them anymore.”

“I love them so much,” Eddie said, his lower lip quivering. “But not having any help except Chrissy occasionally made it hard.” Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Steve pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. Eddie let out a watery chuckle. “You didn’t have anyone close that could help you?”

Eddie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “My former bandmates kinda scattered all over the globe. Gareth in Wales where his family is from, Jeff in New York, and Brian in LA. My uncle, Wayne broke his leg just after Ethan left and he’s just barely moving around without a cane. I couldn’t make him watch two rambunctious four year olds.”

He let out a shuddering breath and then another. “A lot of the nannies we had kept trying to be their mother. One was even caught trying to teach Joanie to call her Mama.”

“That’s rough,” Steve murmured. “But I’m here to help you. I’m not going to try and replace you as their dad. Or even Ethan, really. I’m just an extra person you can rely on.”

“You don’t mind setting up the household staff do you?” Eddie asked, his voice still rough from the crying. He blew his nose and then threw the tissue away in a nearby garbage. “It’s just that I want people that will work well with you and not try to fight you on every little thing.”

Steve shook his head. “No I get it. Plus getting help for a place as big as this one, I’d need the help otherwise I’d wear myself out before you got home.”

Eddie chuckled. “Do you like the house? Some of the other nannies thought it was creepy.”

“Mr. Muns–” Steve began but Eddie cut him off.

“Call me Eddie,” he said softly. “Mr. Munson makes me feel old and I’m not ready for that yet.”

“All right, Eddie,” Steve murmured back, “I think it’s spooky in a fun way. It’s not creepy. It’s beautifully decorated. I’ve seen creepy. Like tiger and elephant heads mounted on the walls with fully stuffed birds and in one horrifying case a Tasmanian wolf.”

“Aren’t those extinct?” Eddie asked with a grimace.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said, moving to sit on on the desk all the way, to put some distance between them. Before he did something stupid like kiss his boss. “I made sure to report his taxidermy to the Feds on the way out.”

“Brutal.”

“Dude was creep and his wife wasn’t much better,” Steve said with a shrug. “I felt sorry for their kids. They didn’t deserve having parents like those.”

“What made you leave?” Eddie asked, honestly curious on how Steve could have gone through so many clients considering he didn’t seem very old.

Steve kicked his feet a little, careful not to kick Eddie. “They aged out of needing one. They were already pre-teens when I got hired. They basically only needed someone to pick them up from school and make them dinner before their parents came home.”

“How long were you with them?” Eddie asked, more to keep Steve there then any real curiosity he had. Yeah, he had been curious about what made him leave, but this was blatant flirting at this point.

Steve laughed. “What’s this, more interview?” he teased. “No, in all seriousness, it was about a year. Most of my clients only need me temporarily anyway. I’m pretty sure that for at least three of them, their friends or family got to them about me being a guy, because they hired a female nanny soon after.”

“That’s bullshit,” Eddie huffed. “I’m sorry that they kept doing that to you. If anyone says anything to you, send them my direction. I’ll set them straight.”

“Thanks,” Steve murmured. He checked his watch. “It’s about time for me to make dinner.”

Eddie nodded and watched him leave. Once Steve had closed the door to his office behind him, Eddie put his head in his hands. It was so hard to keep his hands to himself when Steve was that close.

He just hoped that the three months he was going to be gone would be enough to put out the fire in his gut for his new nanny for fuck’s sake. He needed to get laid, Jesus fucking Christ!

The rest of the night passed with relative ease. Steve made meatloaf and garlic mashed potatoes with corn on the side.

Night time went well, too. Both girls drifting off to sleep quickly.

Morning, though? That was what was fraught with difficulties and tantrums.

Joan refused to get dressed, flopping on the floor and sobbing uncontrollably. Janice dumped her cereal on the floor, kicking and screaming like a toddler. Joan threw herself at the door while Janice tried to hide Eddie’s shoes.

Eddie stared Janice right in the eye as he pulled out another pair of shoes out of his carry-on. And then another out of his suitcase. He put the shoes back in the suitcase, but pulled on the shoes from his carry-on. All while Janice stood there with her jaw on the floor.

Steve pulled Joan away from the door so Eddie could open it and both girls started crying. Eddie hugged and kissed each girl goodbye.

Steve picked up both girls and held them up to the window so they could wave goodbye as Eddie drove off.

He set them down and they both flopped on the floor like ragdolls. He let them lay there for awhile, even taking advantage of Joan not moving to get her dressed. He put his hands on his hips it was going to be a long week. A very long week.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

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[14buddy22]

Hiii, I hope you’re doing well! I saw you are open to requests so I want to share with you this idea I have in my mind, something like Hotch falling for the reader during his college years (he and Hayley decided to take a break in their relationship or something like that), so he gets closer to reader, they are great friends and have a lot of chemistry and both are hoping to take their friendship to the next step but suddenly Hayley shows up and is decided to get Aaron back. After some thinking, Hotch gets back with Hayley cause they have a past and plans and all that but he ends up breaking reader’s heart (I’m a sucker for drama unfortunately). Years past by and Hotch sees the reader again and his feelings come back (he was never really over it) and he tries to get their trust back since he’s not married anymore and cause he knows deep inside that reader is the one for him!!

Sorry for the long request but if you’re up to writing it I would love it sm, if you don’t feel up to it I understand. Anyways, thank u

Thank you for requesting this. ily and I'm SO So So sorry it took so long.

When you met Aaron Hotchner, you were young, a freshman in college. Both at GWU, you were going with your roommate to her brother's frat house, it just so happened that it was the frat where you'd meet Aaron Hotchner.

In high school, you never liked to party, so you didn't really expect to like the frat parties in college. You'd rather just sit out in a backyard of your house or your friend's house and have a bonfire and drink. You could see what you're consuming and you could invite whoever you wanted, you didn't have to worry about who was going to be there.

Your college roommate was one of your best friends, so you knew her brother well, knew he'd protect you both. As you made your way to the frat house, you were met with the smell of sex, beer, and drugs. It was classic signs of a party that you weren't excited to attend.

You quickly found your best friend's brother, Matt, and he began to introduce you two to his friends.

"This is Aaron Hotchner, he's studying law."

You stuck out your hand. Is that what college kids do? Do they shake hands with people? Before you could play it off by going to move a piece of hair out of your face, Aaron stuck out his hand and shook it, saying it was nice to meet you.

That night was one of the best nights you had in college, it was the day you met Aaron Hotchner. You thought you wouldn't ever crush on a senior as a freshman, but, oh boy, were you wrong.

After spending the rest of the night talking with Aaron on the front porch of the frat house, you were smitten. He was well spoken, very polite, wanted to know things about you.

He didn't try to take you to his bed, didn't try to kiss you, he just waved goodbye to you as you and your friend made your way back to your dorm.

As weeks had gone by, you were hanging out more and more with Aaron. He would come over to your dorm, you would go to his apartment. It felt a little weird at times, but there was a connection there that you couldn't deny.

Things had been going well, you and Aaron were super close as friends and you had been on multiple dates, although nothing was official, both of you too afraid for a relationship.

Your friend's brother explained that he had a high school girlfriend that he was in love with but she broke his heart when he moved away, maybe that's what he was afraid of? Getting his heart broken when he graduated at the end of the year?

You two had a nice dinner, just towards the end though, you watched Aaron's body tense up, the color of his skin fading, immediately becoming a ghost. You didn't know what was going on.

"Aar- are you okay?"

"Haley"

When you turned towards the door, you saw Haley beginning to walk her way over to your table. Was this really happening right now?

"Aaron. Is there somewhere we could talk?"

The rest of the night was a blur. Maybe it's because your eyes filled with tears right away. Knowing how stupid you were to be a freshman on a date with a senior right now.

Later that week, Aaron showed up at your dorm, asking if you could talk. You knew it couldn't be good. He didn't look like his cheerful self when he was with you.

"I just want to say that everything has been great between us. After talking with Haley, I realized that it's best that I get back with her. She was my high school sweetheart, I was upset when she broke my heart, and now that I can have a chance with her."

You never had Aaron Hotchner, he wasn't yours. You couldn't claim him, a piece of him will always still want Haley. It's better that he gets back with her.

"I understand" Is what you told him, but in reality, you didn't. You knew so much about her and how she broke his heart, how could he still go back to her?

But that was oh so many years ago, now here he was, walking into the place you worked.

Aaron couldn't believe it was you. He saw your picture up in the hallway, but he didn't want to believe you were actually here, considering you said you didn't want to stay in this state.

You were in your classroom, talking to your teacher bestie. Both of you laughing off the problems you were both encountering today. It was when you noticed a man in a suit standing in the doorway of your classroom.

"Good Afternoon, sorry to bother you, my name is."

"Aaron Hotchner."

Your coworker said, "You know him?"

"You could say that, can you give us a moment?"

She walked out of the classroom, shutting the door behind her. When you looked at him, you saw how he looked older, grown into his fuller body. He looked tired. He looked too fit to be a lawyer.

"What is Aaron Hotchner doing in my classroom?"

"Your name came up in an investigation, I had to see if it was really you."

"Well, it's me. Ask your questions and leave."

You didn't want to be so harsh, and you saw the look in his eyes. It was the same look he gave you when you didn't have any words to say when he told you he was choosing Haley. He felt hurt. His eyes said it, his body language looked like it.

"I'm sorry, Aar. I didn't mean to be so harsh, but you left me. Not even that, you broke me. I refused to date anyone else in college because they weren't you. You broke me, little freshman me who had a great world ahead of her. I should have listened when they said don't get involved with a senior. But I didn't. I was so naive to think that you'd actually choose me over her. But, you ended up marrying her."

He held up his left hand and said, "I should have never left you that night. Yes, I ended up marrying her, but she divorced me. She passed away a few years back."

"Aar, I'm so sorry."

"No, you don't have to be sorry. You have a right to be mad at me."

"You've only got yourself to blame!"

Aaron looked at you. Why were you arguing with him, just let him talk. It had been years since he broke your heart, yet, a piece of it was still missing, and he had it. He could shatter it or fix it, right now.

"I was engaged to Haley shortly after we got back together. I thought it was the right thing to do. Be with someone my age, not a freshmen. Be with the high school sweetheart, not someone I met at a party."

You looked at him and just shook your head, annoyed thinking back to how much you were hurt when Haley showed up at the restaurant you and Aaron were at.

"I may have been engaged but I came back."

"What?"

What was he talking about? He never came back. You would have known.

"Yeah, I told Haley I couldn't marry her and I came right back."

"Why didn't you call?"

"Because I was crazy enough to think that you'd be waiting for me, only when I came back, Matt told me you were off with some other guy. So, I went back to Haley, who told me I was an idiot, and married me to prove it."

Matt knew? Matt became your additional best friend, even more than your high school bestie was. Maybe it's because he was like a brother to you, but he was there when Aaron left. Matt helped pick up the pieces of your broken heart, and he saw you at your worst, so why wouldn't he had told you that Aaron came looking for you?

"Y/n, your name wasn't on the list for an investigation, the principal was, I saw your picture in the hallway, and the principal was walking me down the hall to talk to another teacher, and I heard your laugh from down the hall. I had to come. A piece of me died when I broke your heart. To this day, I haven't been over our breakup. Deep down, you're the one for me. If you've met someone, I'll leave right now, you won't ever see me again, but if you're single, I want you. I want it to be us, like it should have been."

He was never over you, he wasn't over the breakup. That's commitment. You owed him a date. You were single and still in love with Aaron Hotchner, the man you met in college.

"Pick me up at 7. I'll text you my address. If the date goes well, you owe me."

"What do I have the pleasure of owing you?"

"Your last name."

His smile on his face said it all. He was in this for the long hall. The date that night went great. Tearful apologies from both of you. A make-up kiss, spending the night just talking and hanging out. Less than a year later, you and Aaron were engaged and getting married. He owed you his last name, he gave it to you. He broke your heart, and he fixed it.

[katiemay-025]

Sympathizer

~~~~~

summary: you’re a capitol citizen and grew up in the luxury of it so when a certain charming victor starts popping up way more often than you want, a confrontation turns her whole world view upside down.

wc: 4k

warnings: mdni, use of y/n, prostitution and sex work, angst, I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed anything.

~~~~~

Victors were a touchy subject for you. While everyone talked about the new victor like celebrity gossip, you kept quiet. You kept quiet mostly because if you opened your mouth, people would quickly realize that you did not like the victors. Seeing them like us bridged the gap of the lesser. The more they were welcomed to extravagant parties, the more people forgot they were from the Districts. These very people descended from the rebels that nearly wiped all of Panem out during the rebellion.

If anything you were weary of the victors, they won their respective hunger games. They were the strongest of the strong. It would be very easy for them to rise up against the Capitol especially if they gained a following. Some were good at that, and others just fell into addictions.

Finnick Odair was the newest victor, winning at a shockingly young age of 14. He was the same age as you and everyone you knew from school girls to grown married woman swooned over him. Some of the boys did too. And worse, was your older sister and mother, who made you gag as they talked about his physique during dinner.

It was nothing new. Every single person around you speculated that Finnick was originally Capitol but kidnapped to the districts and made his way back. You knew better, his distinctly sea-green eyes, bronze skin, and his salt ridden hair with its curls were features from District 4. Regardless of where he was born, he was raised in the districts.

During the 66th games, he peacocked his way around charming more and more of the capitol citizens. He certainly did not talk like a 15 year old, but hey no judgement in his taste of people, you liked older people too. Okay there was a little bit of judgement in this whole endeavor, everyone he was talking to was an adult. You were sick to your stomach that everyone would overlook his age because of his looks and charms. Absolutely disgusting.

None of this should be working because if it escalated, it would be everyone else getting punished not Finnick. You guessed by the way he was preening around, District 4 didn’t teach their kids about any cordial laws. Add that to the long list of reasons why you didn’t like the Districts. Or maybe he knew the rules and just created a line for when he could sleep with them.

You were right, partly. During the 67th and 68th games despite being underaged there were pockets of the sponsor parties and banquets where he would disappear. Girls and woman would come back throughout the day and immediately people would speculate what they had done and who they were with. Most of it landed on the victors but you had also noticed Finnick’s disappearance and reappearance around the same time as some of the woman. Who even goes to a private apartment to play board games. They were definitely sexually intimate. All of your food threatened to come back up at that realization.

A few days later when the woman was in tears, it brought you joy. What did they expect? That a District man would swear fealty to them? He was 16 for crying out loud, no way he was looking to settle down. Finnick Odair would sleep around with the Capitol citizens and leave them in the dust for another hot thing to play with. It would never be love. Joe could they all be so stupid?

If you could, you would never be at these events, you’d much rather stay at home and read a book. Unfortunately, things don’t always turn out the way you want them to. Your sister brought you to these things for her benefit and you were forced to tag along.

The consultation was that you’d get pretty good food and catering at these things. You’d grab a few plates and slowly make your way to an empty balcony. Eating with the company of sky line. It was too bright for stars to twinkle in the sky. Though Venus would keep you company for a few hours after the sun set. The victors knew not to talk to you. You weren’t going to spend your money on anyone from the Districts.

So here, at the beginning of the 69th games and the pregame party, you found your place on the third floor balcony. Technically it was off limits but no one checked past the second floor which is covered in peacekeepers, though it was easy to sneak past them. Only this time, when you pushed the door open, you saw someone standing there in your spot.

You recognized the dirty blond hair immediately. It was wild but natural. Few people had their hair color the same as when they were born. Most of them dyed it. No matter where you went, it seemed like he was following you. His head turned part way to identify who had just walked in with his peripheral vision.

You kept your eyes on him, boring a hole into his neck. If he was going to try to charm you into bed, you were ready to turn around and leave. Finnick didn’t speak and neither did you. He just turned back to the skyline in silence. Seeing as he wasn’t going to leave, you found your way to the cement railing on the far left and ate your food.

When your feet got tired, you pushed yourself up on the ledge and laid on it. The ledge was wide enough for you to lay down and have room to roll onto your side. You stayed on your back feeling the wind dancing with your dress.

You could feel a pair of eyes stare you down. Sure enough when you opened them, you were met with green eyes against your brown ones. Finnick had his eyebrow perked towards you with his hand hesitantly on the ledge next to you. “You don’t need to worry.” You said.

You grabbed his glass cup and threw it over the ledge. Finnick scrambled to get it but was much too slow. There was a small zap and the it bounced back, trailing the same arc. You caught the glass before handing it back to him.

“Oh.”

With that small interaction, you left without a word. It always starts off as a small interaction and you would not stick around to fall victim to Finnick Odair’s harem. It would have been so nice if that was the last interaction you had with him, but the next day, he was there again in silent company. And again the next day, and the day after that and the day after that.

This year the game dragged on. It had been a week and there were still 10 tributes left. The balcony was a tolerable routine. He’d be there first on the far right and you would take your place on the far left of the balcony eating quietly. Then there was a period of time where you laid on the ledge. You’d lay and Finnick would stay standing. He would leave first and you would stay up there until dawn. It’s what you did anyway when he hadn’t found this place.

You never thought you would miss his company when he didn’t show up the next day. Outside of the male bravado bachelor, he seemed content with the peace, not needing constant attention from a Capitolite.

It was the next day when you got home in the early morning did you figure something was up. You ran into your sister stumbling into the house the same time you did. While you were great at sneaking around, your sister wasn’t. In her blissful state, she made a ruckus going across the hallway.

Your parents ran into the hallway, your dad holding a baseball bat and your mom behind him. You ran your hand down your face as you both had to explain where you were. You held up the book from your bag and said you got carried away reading. They believed you even though you hadn’t read a page of the book at all, mostly because all you ever asked for were books.

Your sister on the other hand was too giddy to keep a secret. “I was with Finnick Odair.” She said. You smaller your head towards her direction. You were silent as your mother cheered and pulled her into her room to talk about it. Your blood boiled and again the next day at the balcony he didn’t show. Meaning your sister was with him.

Old habits die hard. Finnick Odair was always going to be a player. You weren’t really surprised. The door opened early in the morning and you saw Finnick at the door with tears in his eyes when you turned. You couldn’t help but smirk with you back to the railing watching him. He had finally gotten a taste of his own medicine.

“You know, I’m not surprised. One weeks isn’t enough time to change a habit, but of all the people, did it really have to be my sister?”

His green orbs met your brown ones. Finnick stayed quiet as he moved towards you ignoring the glares you were giving him. He stood next to you leaning against it. He looked out to the skyline before saying, “It’s not like I have a choice in who I sleep with.”

“Please.” You jeered. “You’re Finnick Odair you can sleep with anyone.”

“No. I can’t. It’s the Patrons choice to-“

“Patrons? People have to pay you to sleep with you? God that’s so low of you.”

“Not me. I don’t see a dime. It all goes to President Snow.” He croaked. Not trusting his voice, he turned it into a whisper.

“What?” Your eyes widened and your body ran cold.

You see his shoulders visibly lift as if the weight he carried was off now. Finnick cleared his throat as he blocked away his tears. “I was considered desirable after winning The Hunger Games he sold my body. I thought- I thought I could get away with not doing it but I’ve cost him money this past week and he’s not happy with it. He’s going to kill Annie.”

At the mention of her name. Finnick broke down. You never saw him like this. It was like the girls he had ‘left’ in the past bawling their eyes out. This time you felt it, the despair and heartbreak. He had snot falling out of his nose as he buried his face in his hands which was gross but a large difference from everyone else who was in tears. Finnick tried to fight it but he couldn’t. You placed your hand on his shoulder and he collapsed to the floor. You made sure his fall was saved by guiding him to the ground. He gripped at your dress and sobbed into your shoulder.

You watched the red beams of light illuminate the building and the blue sky reveal itself. Finnick had yet stopped crying so you pushed him off your shoulder and slapped him across the face. “Pull yourself together. She’s not dead yet.”

“How do you know?”

“Because if Annie is dead, then how will he keep control over you?” You questioned. The realization hit you that President Snow was holding him hostage. From the countless books you read, you knew that when you love someone, you strive to protect them and you’d do anything. This was the same thing. President Snow would be a fool to kill everyone Finnick loved, because he would no longer have the leverage on him.

A calm went over the boy, he looked at you half relief look on his face. Terror washed over him. “He won’t kill her, but that doesn’t mean he won’t torture her.” Tears streamed out of his swollen eyes again. There was quiet mumbling for Annie. So much for pulling yourself together. You thought.

An old lady found her way onto the Balcony and you recognized her as Mags one of the oldest victors. She nodded towards you and pried Finnick off your tear stained shoulder.

The first thing you did was storm home. You found your sister fast asleep in her bed which gave you the opportunity to snoop. Her journal wasn’t much help, it wasn’t mostly the things she did with Finnick. Next was your joint bank account. Your father had given the both of you an allowance during the Hunger Games season. Although you had never spent money during the season, you kept track of the numbers. In the day of the reaping your dad transferred 10,000 dollars to the account making the total 37,257 dollars. With the luxury items, clothings she bought along with the food, you should have 32,007 dollars left but you only had 20,007.

There were two journal entries that described your sister’s intimate nights which meant Finnick’s price was 6000 dollars a night. You scoffed.

You melded into the chair in your sister’s room. When she woke you were already staring her down with your arms crossed. “So, Finnick Odair.”

“What about him?”

“You saw him again last night.”

“Yeah I did.”

“Is he a good kisser at least?”

“Oh he is amazing! He’s charming, handsome and so good in bed!”

“You’re not afraid he’d break your heart?”

“No he won’t. He has a history of it but I’m certain I can really get to him.”

“With what? Money? I know about the transactions.”

You watched her face pale. It confirmed your new disgust towards anyone that’s said they slept with him. Finnick Odair was telling truth. It was as if your worldview crashed and burned. Never in your life would you imagine someone from the Districts being more honorable than the Capitol, hell, your own sibling for crying out loud. He was just a poor boy not much older than you who was forced to be pimped out. Tears welled in your eyes and it got hard to breathe. You pushed it away opting to glare at your older sister.

Now she knew that you knew she essentially paid for her pleasure with him. The guilt would eat anyone alive. “Look I know this looks bad, but I’m making it up to him.” She trudged to her closet and brought out a box of pearl necklaces.

“That necklace is 12,000 dollars?”

“No are you crazy? It’s 5,000 a night for him and the necklace is 2,000. I’m going to use another 5,000 tonight.”

“Bribery?” You disapproved your brows furrowed “That’s sick. Do you think after prostituting him that throwing money at it would suddenly clear your mind of the guilt?” Your sister grabbed at your arm begging you not to leave. She wasn’t the first person to have slept with him and if she was feeling the guilt, then others were too, Especially when he was a minor.

Just like you didn’t want anything to do with the districts, Finnick wouldn’t want anything to deal with the Capitol. They could live with their guilt for all he cared. You gave him props for his morals. At least that part he could control. What was in it for him now that Annie’s life was in danger and all these people were meeting with him not so secretly now that he’s of age. “He’s not going to accept a guilt ridden gift. This dude is consistent.”

“Then what do I do to make him stay with me?”

“How the hell would I know? Go ask him what he thinks is worth all this.” You spoke before leaving her room and storming to your own. Your heart beat painfully in your chest as you placed yourself in Finnick’s shoes. You took slow deep breaths to calm yourself and blinked away your tears.

The next morning Finnick walked onto the balcony after another long night better composed than the last time you saw him. He stood next to you again and you barely noticed him as you were rethinking your entire life. The District 4 victor pulled out a rope to fiddle with, tying and untying knots.

“What did you tell your sister Y/n?” He snapped you out of your catatonic state. Literally, Finnick snapped in front of you to get your attention.

“Basically to find another way to your heart other than guilt ridden gifts.”

“Well, it was genius, making her ask me what I thought was worth that interaction.”

“What did you say she could repay you with?”

You watched the smirk appear on his face as he clasped his hands behind his back. He leaned over, his lips close to your ears. “Secrets.”

“That’s good. The Capitol citizens always have something to gossip about.” You said unblinking.

“Are you okay?”

“Currently rethinking my entire life. Damn it Odair.”

“Yup, this world’s a fucked up place.” Cheering could be heard in the streets followed by Claudius Templesmith announcing the Victor of the 69th Hunger Games. “I have to go.”

“Yeah. You go do what you need to. I’ll be here.” Finnick nodded at your responds before pocketing his rope to leave. You grab at his arm handing him your mobile phone number: an advancement the Capitol had compared to the telephones attached to the wealthy district houses. “Tell me if Annie is okay.”

“Okay.”

Finnick told you Annie was fine and that brought relief to you. That is until the 70th Hunger Games. The female tribute from District 4 was Annie Cresta. As she was 18, no one volunteered for her.

Snow rigged the reaping and he was a moron. You didn’t admit it to Finnick but you hoped Annie died in the arena. Nothing against her but it would save Finnick a lot of trouble. It would save Annie the trouble too. Being crowned the victor was a curse you found out. You had never been in love so it was easier for you to come to that conclusion. You had a whole argument about Annie’s life with Finnick and he chose to sacrifice his autonomy for Annie. Anything and everything for the person he loved most. It was a powerful and tragic love.

You were with him when the gamemakers deployed an earth shattering shake. Cracks ran up the dam in the mountain until it cracked open spewing water out of it. You watched as the entire valley flooded sweeping away any trees rocks and tributes down the hill. Most of them drowned and it came down to a handful of tributes bobbing on the surface trying to keep themselves afloat.

You and Finnick both stood watching the screen intently. You tried stepping on his toes to keep him from falling apart but even that didn’t work. You were in the private tribute quarters in the tribute center and Finnick wailed in Mags arms.

Annie was a great swimmer but after hours of treading and fighting the current even strong swimmers like her was staring to become fatigued. She was bobbing below the surface in a desperate attempt to latch onto something to float. You gave him a long look before heading down to the sponsor party. You said you were never going to waste money on these things but now you poured all you had into it. Your sister wouldn’t be pleased but who cared at this point.

It was late game and the sponsor items were extremely expensive. Most of the other patrons had frozen their donations because the rage of Mother Nature didn’t care about the tributes, ramming them into arena walls, crushing them under debris, choking them in the rapids. It was the worst game you’ve ever seen. The sponsor window had also closed down donations. You slammed the nearly 50,000 in cash in front of him ignoring his word. “Is that enough for a buoy for Annie Cresta?”

“No. A buoy big enough to support someone this late in the game is nearly 10 times that amount.”

“Is there anyway I can lower the price?”

“No there isn’t.”

You sighed turning away. “Unless…” he started. “A pretty thing like you sleeps with me and it’ll be free of charge.”

You glared at the man in the window. He clearly had not been laid in years. Oh god did you hate the capitol right about now. “Fuck it.” You climbed over the window and kissed him hard. You really hoped this wasn’t in vain as you slammed the metal window behind you shut and took off the guy’s clothes. Hang in there just a bit longer Annie.

You panted on the floor of the check out booth as the man punched in the order for Annie’s buoy. A log shot up from the current nearly stabbing Annie on the way. And it couldn’t have happened a moment sooner. She showed signs of giving up. It landed and the girl scrambled to it holding on for dear life. You heard two canons in succession as the other tributes became to fatigued. Annie was announced the victor and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You were ecstatic sighing in relief.

Annie was a strong swimmer and probably could have kept going, but you gave her better odds with the wooden log. Finnick almost lost someone he loves while 23 of the other tributes had family waiting for someone who would never come back. 23 kids for 70 years plus another 24 kids were ripped away from their family and friends by the capitol for the sake of entertainment.

“If you tell anyone about this. I’ll kill you.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not telling a soul. If they found out I gave a gift without money I’d be killed.”

“So we agree. We never speak of this again.”

He nods, too full of himself to know you would keep this interaction in your back pocket in case you needed him to send something else.

You head back to the training center and Finnick burst out the double doors in happy tears. He spots you and takes your hand bringing you into the car with him. The two of you went to the hospital and you watched as he went into the room where Annie was.

“Annie.”

“Finnick.”

She flew into his arms and held him tight. Finnick supported Annie while caressing her head. Your heart swelled at the reunion. The District 4 duo would have stayed like that longer if it weren’t for the doctors needing to do a psyche analysis on Annie. Finnick wouldn’t let her out of his site and so he went to.

Finally alone with the gravity of what you did for them rushed back to you. Tears welled in your eyes but any guilt quickly left your body. You did what had to be done to save Annie and by proxy, Finnick. You finally truly understood him. Why he did the things he did for those he cared for, because you cared for him now. While he was here in the Capitol, you’d watch his back.

The rebels were long dead and the districts were collectively punished for actions they didn’t commit. You were wrong no one deserved this. No one deserved being exploited for surviving a brutal traumatic event. You watched two people your age and younger meerkat have their entire life fall apart. It was unfair. Maybe there was a reason for the rebellion in the first place if all this horrible stuff happens because of the Capitol’s existence.

[jmagnabo92]

hello for the kisses thing plz

💛 reunion kiss / relief firstprince plz :)

A reunion kiss! (with a side of killing the queen).

***

It’s been far too long since Alex has seen his boyfriend.  Unfortunately, the death of the Queen had driven them apart.  There was this whole pomp and ceremony and Alex wanted to be there for him, but he wasn’t allowed due to ‘protocol’ or some such nonsense. 

If his boyfriend was anyone other than a prince of England, he would’ve been able to go to the funeral and support him (although if he wasn’t a prince, Henry would not have bothered going to his grandmother’s funeral since she’s… well… not a great grandmother), but well, stupid protocols meant that he couldn’t attend all that nonsense since he’s not officially ‘family’ (he’s sure the queen has something to do with that), not helped at all by his professors for law school claiming that since he wasn’t related that he couldn’t ask for leave to join his prince boyfriend in London. 

Which is why he hasn’t seen Henry in nearly three months, but the second that he concluded his finals for the second-year spring semester, he got on a plane headed towards the love of his life. 

A long and annoying flight later (since he’s still the First Son and the papers have been commenting about where’s the supposed love of Prince Henry’s life and why is the First Son going to school instead of supporting his boyfriend and well, once the people realized what flight he was on, they were attempting to snap pictures and bother him when he just wants to be left alone.

Luckily, Cash was quick to intervene, and he was in first class so there was more privacy.  He tried to rest, but the closer that they got to London, the more anxious he was to see the love of his life.

“Finally!” Alex says as he gathers his bag from the baggage claim and immediately heads for where he expects the secure car is waiting. 

He doesn’t get a chance to get to the car because the second he’s in the arrival area where friends and family usually wait to pick up the person on the flight.  It’s been a long time since Alex had anyone waiting for him and he assumed that Henry would be too busy (helping prepare for Catherine’s coronation and princely duties) to come, so he’s not expecting anyone to be waiting for him.

But he’s wrong.

Because there he is.  His boyfriend, who he hasn’t seen in months, is standing there all movie-star prince like with a sign that reads: First Son of My Heart. 

Alex nearly melts at ridiculously romantic Henry can be at times, especially after months without him. 

He doesn’t care about protocols or how improper it would be to kiss his boyfriend in the middle of the airport or even how he would get a long-ass lecture he’ll get from his ma about ‘purposely gaining attention from the press for inappropriate behavior’ (as if kissing his boyfriend is inappropriate).  He hates those lectures, but after three months without him and seeing him come pick him up with that adorable sign, he really doesn’t give a damn.

So, he barely stops himself from running to Henry (but it’s a close thing) and he tosses his bag off to the side at the same time that Henry tosses the sign to the side before wrapping his arms around Henry’s neck and kissing him passionately. 

Henry’s arms wrap around Alex’s waist, and he responds in kind. 

Alex could feel that Henry’s trying to put so much love and passion in this kiss that is meant to make up for nearly three months of lost kisses and a promise that they won’t be apart for this long again. 

There’s some chatter and coughing around them (the cough probably coming from Shaan or Cash), and they break apart. 

“Hi,” Alex says, breathlessly.

“Hi,” Henry says with a little chuckle. 

“I missed you, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“Me too.  However, we should probably take this reunion somewhere more private if we do not want to earn a telling off.”

Alex agrees.  “Lead the way, Baby.”

“Gladly.”

***

Thanks for the ask :). Hope you like it :)

[asteriskism]

Does jughead match Betty's freak

this ask ended up twice in my inbox and i think that’s so funny. ask so real it came as a two-for-one deal !

honestly? no. jughead and betty are like, the epitome of an arranged marriage with the genders inversed. like specifically, jughead is the wife with unfortunate and irreversible neediness syndrome and betty is the strapping young man who has been tied down against his will. like, all betty wants to do is get out there and explore - first in a journalism sense, then in an investigator sense, then in a sexuality + life’s pleasures sense. betty really really likes being in charge of stuff, in taking command and moving stuff forward and getting shit done. she’s also a little more substantially fucked up than jughead in the sense that jughead is like. abandonment/inferiority complex 1000 ie. his mom left him, archie left him, his dad left him, his gf cheats on him or whatever. jughead is mostly a bundle of soft-type emotional-relationship issues which are fucked up in their own right, but he also expresses those issues a lot more openly (the whole Being A Writer thing, narratively the dying over and over thing, his whole misanthropy thing being just an accepted part of who he is).

betty on the other hand has: a serial killer father, serial killer grandparents, a mom who kills assailants and hides the bodies under floorboards, a serial-killer FBI-agent half-brother, a serial-killer cam hooker half-brother-in-law, a cult-indoctrinated accidentally-incestuous sister who had twins with the town dead boy who was killed by his father (said father also being one of betty’s own blood family), a boyfriend that dies every season and is an attempted gang leader, a cousin who is an insane witch, a gang-leader step-dad-situation who is also the father of her boyfriend, not to mention her serial killer genes! when i say she’s substantially more fucked up than jughead i mean that jughead weeps/whines/acts pathetic about his circumstances a lot more, which are sad in general bc that’s his role, but despite betty’s increasing “darkness” over the seasons (something that she says verbatim . lol) she still keeps it together on a surface level. still dresses in pastels still wears little pink sweaters and skinny jeans and does her cute hairdos and sheer pink makeup well into her adulthood, which makes her all the more fucked bc cognitive dissonance goes crazy!! the difference between how she’s perceived/what she’s supposed to be and all the things that happened to her/the way she’s supposed to react to it are two different ends of the personality spectrum.

of course, the problem this creates is that jughead (ultimate sad wet cat) sees her suburban good girl aura and takes it for granted that she will stay the same sweet girl and attaches himself to her - unfortunately, betty’s core directive is to keep moving, so naturally she starts looking in different directions. jughead needs her too much and she doesn’t really need him at all. consider that also jughead walks around like a festering open wound and betty graduated from the cooper school for emotionally repressed women…like. there was no way for betty to be weird (to be a weirdo. to not fit in and not want to fit in. she doesn’t even have a stupid hat on) like jughead is weird bc jughead is a freak because of his problems - ie he has no one, originally, bar archie, because he’s so “misunderstood” and “misanthropic”. the inverse of that - betty has, superficially, zero problems - which is what draws veronica and jughead to her, and her freak is just that much more intense because she never deals with it except in really unhealthy ways (a pile of coping mechanisms for which she is always looking to add to.)

tl:dr betty’s freak is a lot more intense and unsolvable than jughead’s and so while jughead can be fixed by a one-hit wonder vent novel and a new project-focused girlboss gf, betty can never be fixed - ergo they really need to see other people (NOT ARCHIE.)

[mariatesstruther]

okay but wait @bumblepony u GENIUS. you gave me an idea:

mariatommy step up au

in which pro-dancer maria miller is in desperate need of a waltz partner for the american dance championships. to her rescue comes tommy miller, the younger and more troublesome and secretly phenomenal swinging-dancing brother of famous ex swing-dancer, joel miller

guess what i did 😋 i made it long

so we start with pro-dancer maria miller as she wins as many dance titles as she possibly can, trying to prove to her mother that quitting law school for dance was worth it. she’s already been taking home a fuck ton of titles as a ballet and lyrical soloist, but lately she’s been interested in smooth forms of ballroom, like the waltz and tango

a good friend of hers, frank, has been her partner for three months, and they’ve been unbeatable so far. literally every competition she they shows up at, other dancers will groan and rolls their eyes like “aw come on bro this is unFAIR” because they already know who first place is going to: maria motherfucking miller. every goddamn time

then, four titles in and two months away from their biggest competition, frank tragically breaks an ankle doing some stupid gardening shit with bill. and it is exactly that: a tragedy. he’s maria miller’s partner, and now he can no longer be that. he might as well be a dead man

frank makes bill tell maria, both because it was his idea to have sex do work in the garden and because he’s too scared to. when he does, she cusses him out so bad that, for once in his life, he has no grumpy smartass response. maria is fucking pissed—because that entire competition, that title, that trophy is supposed to be fucking hers. they already have the perfect choreography, the perfect costumes, the perfect music, the perfect everything. she’s already made space on her awards wall for the crown, the sash, and three-their trophy. this is a batrayal, frank. how could he do this to her????? how could he?????

but maria miller does not dwell on problems: she fixes them. she has replace bill or withdraw from the competition—which she has never done in her entire life. withdrawing, like losing, is not an option. she needs another partner, and she needs one fast

of course homegirl tess would come through—her best friend, retired fellow dancer, and one of the most reputable talent managers in the region. maria calls tess hoping to get in touch with her ex-partner, joel miller, because she wants only the best. he’s known and respected in the dance world as an amazing swing dancer and phenomenal lead in partner-work—much to her chargrin, unfortunately, he’s not dancing anymore. he’s apparently too busy with a new baby, which—great, beautiful, kids are great—does not help her. maria needs someone available, someone good, and someone now

enter tommy miller 🤠 who maria is at first not even willing to consider, because he’s never danced competitively in his entire fucking life (“are you fucking with me, tess? are you trying to fuck with me? i thought we were past the point of fucking with eachother. i though we were friends.” she says, when tess tells her. she gets an eye-roll in response)

to his credit, tess tells her, he’s been dancing alongside his joel all his life. he’s watched him and learned from him and is apparently just as good—he’s even danced with tess, and he impressed her. this impressed maria. when she asks tess why he hasn’t done anything officially to actually prove himself, tess says he’s “not the competitive type,” which is a major turn-off. maria is more than the competitive type—she’s the competition entirely.

still, tess convinces her to give him a chance. they basically meets blind-date style because tess is just like “dude just trust me trust me TRUST ME. meet him at our studio on saturday and freestyle with him. one song. then tell me what you think”

so maria goes, and she waits. she’s dutifully ten minutes early, as she is to every rehearsal. what would be five minutes before their meet time, she hears the studio doors open behind her and lets herself be only a little pleased that he is early. then she turns around to him—and boy, is she very much so pleased

tommy is broad-shouldered and well-dressed and tall, but not too tall, and well-groomed for a man—especially with one with so much hair. my god, just this man have a beautiful head of hair. as admires him, she also appreciates that (aside from his audaciously hot suede fur-lined jacket and cowboy boots, lord help her), he look’s ready to dance: black loose muscle tank, black breathable joggers, and black sneakers held in his left hand. in his right hand, to her suprise, is a single red rose.

is he fucking with me? she immediately thinks. a rose. a fucking rose?

“what’s that for?”

“uh, the rose? it’s—,” he hesitates, clearly thrown off guard. somehow, with only three measly words, maria notices that his voice is nice and low and gravely and— “it’s for you, ma’am. you’re maria, right?” —southern and sexy and distracting. his voice is far too distracting. it will present problems for her.

“right. i’m maria,” she repeats, mostly to remind herself who she fucking is—maria fucking miller. maria miller, who does not get distracted by tall sexy cowboys at dance rehearsals. “you’re tommy?”

“yes, ma’am.” he has to stop. he has to stop with the ma’am thing. it’s another distractor.

no distractions. she’s at a rehearsal, albiet an unofficial trial one. it is still a rehearsal—one for a competition that she will win.

maria straightens her shoulders, gets her head on straight, and steels her voice to say coldly: “well, tommy, i don’t like flowers. i like trophies. you think you can get me one of those?”

at that, tommy smiles as bright as the sun, white and pearly and perfect. distraction number three. she’s fucked. “i reckon i can,” he says, amused and sure.

“then prove it,” she responds, voice still steely. “let’s dance.”

and they do

for @bumblepony for your amazing writing as always and @marceltheshellwithflipflopson for your loveliness and inspiration and @clickergossip wifey and @ameerawrites miss u baby and @liveandletcry23 MISS U CAT and @hypnotisedfireflies because the work youve been doing with IO????? INCREDIBLE????? its been making me want to get back to writing so bad

all my mariatommy truthers love u guys kiss kiss kiss

[noa-de-cajou]

UUUUUUUURRRRRRGHHHHHHHH.

WORKING RETAIL THE WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE SUCKS.

There is no god up there, I'm telling you, because if there was he wouldn’t make me work in a mall filled with people and radio music all day long. But the fucking law degree I don't even want to get isn’t gonna pay itself, is it.

Only a few more months of this and I'll be free. Sure, working in a clothing store is a bazillion times better than when I was a cashier at a supermarket, because I'm more interested in fashion than I am in tuna cans, but still. Either I'm stuck sitting all day behind the counter, or I have to walk around with my fucking low-quality prothesis that hurts like a motherfucker because there's no room for a wheelchair in the fucking alleys and the crutch doesn't look corporate enough.

Let's not even talk about my colleagues. Some of them are sweet, but the others, GOD, I can't stand those bitches. Like, I'm all for gossip. But harmless gossip. Not gossip about how supposedly fat the clients are or how X or Y looks like a whore with a skirt on. The only times I join them is when they rate clients on how attractive they are, because it makes time go faster and purposefully giving ratings opposite to theirs is my only joy in this Rihanna-filled fast fashion hell.

And speaking about hell, today I'm on counseling duty and the shop is full, so I have to stand in the alleys with Clément and Alma. Clément is the only guy in the team but he's acclimated just fine, shittalking as much as the others do, and hitting on me repeatedly despite my obvious lack of interest. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, but the fact that I have two doesn’t mean I want his stupid fucking face anywhere near mine. I don't mention my sentimental life, certainly not my sex life either. They’d eat me alive. Especially Alma. Boy is she one of the meanest judgmental bitches I've ever met, and I'm pretty mean and judgmental too. Pretty sure she was a bully in middle school, and if she wasn't she would have been perfect for the job. Unfortunately she has the same as mine.

We’ve clocked in for the afternoon twenty minutes ago, they’ve rated ten people already, my prosthesis hurts like hell, my period’s coming soon, I think one of them isn't going to make it out alive if they let me stay in their close vicinity.

Deep breaths, Bronya. Chill. Do it for the money, do it for the moolah.

“Oh wow, look what the cat dragged in,” Clément whispers with a voice already dripping with cheap self-satisfaction. “Bronya, Bronya, check this out.”

God fucking damn it what is it n- Holy SHIT.

Wow. Uh. Okay. Wow. I must say I wasn't expecting an almost two meters tall woman with scars all over her face and the thickest glasses I've ever seen. I kinda get why she caught their attention. I mean, she's-

“Someone call the zoo, I think they lost their giraffe.”

… Yeah, of course, why did I even believe they’d be nice this time. My faith in humanity really is far too great.

And the insult isn’t even good. Alma should at least choose a hobby that she's good at. Or maybe annoying the shit out of me is her hobby, in which case she deserves a medal.

The tall girl goes about her business, hesitantly browsing through the clothes. She moves without any self-confidence at all, it's kind of sad. Because she isn’t just tall, she’s buff as fuck too. Maybe a bit lanky? But eh, that looks like someone who works out a bunch.

“What’s she even doing in the women’s section ?” Clément sneers. “The only thing that makes her one is…”

He makes a very not subtle gesture above his chest. Alma giggles.

“What, Clem, is she not your type?”

“Oh, you know my type.”

And he oggles me. He OGGLES ME.

“That girl's like, a three. The ten is right here.”

…

Is the money really worth it? Can’t I punch him in the face?

No. Calm down. Let's be CIVIL. Let’s be POLITE, shall we?

“For the hundredth time, Clément, knock it off. Also you should lower your expectations for women, because as far as I know, you're nobody's type yourself.”

So much for polite, but that’s never been my forte. Clément reddens, his eyelid twitches a little, but Alma’s there, so he laughs it off. Yeah, I know your kind, asshole. Too bad, I have standards on who gets to fuck me and you’re not meeting any.

“Wow, chill, Bronya! I’m just tryna be nice.”

“Well why don’t you try being nice to her then?” I mumble.

“Clem has a point, you know,” Alma chimes in. “When you shop in the women’s section, you should at least try to look like one! No, for me, she’s a two at best.”

Why doesn't she look like a woman? Is it the short hair? The muscles? The hoodie? The pants that are slightly too short? The overused sneakers? The scars?

Or are you just a fucking bitch?

Poor girl looks so confused, too. Clearly she's not used to shopping. And the other two keep throwing in names and little pesky remarks instead of doing what they're paid to do.

Screw it.

“You guys are dicks.”

I limp away from them and towards the girl without leaving room for a reply. My artificial leg creaks with each step but I don’t give a shit at this point.

Fuck, she’s really tall. I have to break my neck to look at her, we’re like forty centimeters apart. She looks down at me, nervously, and I clear my throat.

“Do you need help looking for something?”

Shit. I forgot the customer service smile, and my tone was really dry. She doesn't look thrown off though. More like relieved.

“Um… Yeah. Kind of. I have an important meeting with someone. On… On New year's. And I want to look nice for it, but I don’t own any smart outfits and…”

She glances down at the dresses she was looking through a second ago, and sighs. I don't think she’s that much older than me, now that I look closely. There’s also a big golden pendant dangling around her neck, it looks kind of out of place.

“Well, even if there was my size, I don’t think any of these would look good on me.”

Not look good on her? Has she seen herself in the mirror? Hell, I don’t care what the others say, she's gorgeous.

… Okay. I'm going to find this girl a good outfit no matter what. That’s my mission now.

“I'm sorry, the fashion industry really sucks. Especially for women who don’t fit the arbitrary standards. You might not find a dress your size, but would a suit work?”

She blinks, clearly she didn't expect that. She thinks about it, I can almost see the little thought bubble over her head. She’s kind of adorable.

“I mean… Yeah. I would feel more comfortable in a suit, I think.”

“Let’s see what we can find for you, then. Do you mind if it's from the men’s section?”

She shakes her head. Great. I gesture for her to follow me, and she blinks.

Oh. Did she only notice the prosthesis just now? She really doesn’t have much awareness. At least she didn’t hear all the shittalking, I guess.

I feel stares on us. With her scars, she must get a lot of those, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s looking around with eyes filled with something between absolute terror and full-blown marvel.

That reminds me of a certain someone.

Hanko was so thrilled when I took him for shopping. He had never went before.

Ugh. I really don't need to think about him right now.

I get stares too, because of my leg. It doesn’t really affect me much anymore.

It shouldn’t, at least.

I get to the suit jackets and start looking for one that would fit. With her hair and eyes, I'd go for red or black… Eh, let's go with black. Looks good with anything. Maybe she'll need a shirt, too… Well, that’s where the red will go then.

She looks at me anxiously. Uh. Maybe making conversation will help?

“What’s the occasion-”

“Um, I was just wondering if-”

Oh, crap, she wanted to speak, uh, shit, fuck –

“Uh, sorry, go ahead –”

“No, you first!” she exclaims a bit too loud.

“But you looked like you wanted to ask me something –”

“I-It can wait. What was your question?”

… Welp. Seems like she lost the courage. Great job, Bronya. Might as well ask what I was going to ask, then.

“What’s the occasion? The thing you’re going to on new year’s. Something fancy?”

She… She blushes. Like crazy. Oh. Ohoooooo. A date? Might be a date. That’s the gossip I'm down for. I must be smiling a little too wide because she gets even redder.

“I… No, it's not like that. It’s just…”

She re-adjusts her glasses. There’s a weird expression on her face. Nervous, but sort of hopeful. Her fingers graze her necklace. Probably a gift, then.

“I'm reuniting with someone I haven’t seen since middle school and I really want to look better than… you know, this. I don’t want her to think I'm letting myself go, you know?”

Aww. Okay, that’s cute. Sounds like she cares a lot about whoever she’s gonna meet up with. Better handle it with the same amount of care, then.

“Okay. So. If it’s nothing formal, I think the suit jacket and a shirt would do great. You can also wear normal pants instead of suit pants if you don't want to look too overdressed.”

She looks down at her feet.

“... But all the pants I own show my ankles.”

“Not a problem. If you pair it with the right socks and shoes, I can assure you it looks very trendy. Do you have some nice shoes?”

Because as comfy as they look, those sneakers have seen better days and I bet they don’t offer any protection against snow or rain. Luckily, she nods.

“My sister is going to get me some for Christmas. I know it's needed.”

God, she looks so tense. I raise my prosthesis, she looks on with confusion.

“Well, I would have loved to advise you on shoes as well, but as you can see, I only need one.”

She doesn't erupt in laughter or anything, but that gets a snort out of her. Hehe. Nailed it. I hold out the shirt and jacket I picked up.

“Care to try them on?”

The determination on her face as she nods is really funny. And kind of cute. I lead her to one of the dressing rooms, like you’d do with a kid.

“Hum… Could you give me an opinion once I'm done? If that's okay, of course. I really don’t want to keep you, I know it’s busy this time of year…”

Oh with that kind of consideration she can keep me all she wants – I mean what. Focus, Bronya, focus.

“Yeah, sure thing. Take your time!”

I stand outside and wait. The store has gotten busy again. Clément eyes me from afar, I ignore him, and he rushes to help Alma who seems to be in a pinch with an old bitch. That’s karma for you.

I hear the noise of fabric ruffling inside. She's probably taking off her hoodie or t-shirt right now. I wonder if she's really muscular or if it's just an illusion because of her body type. Huh…

Wait, what the hell? Don’t imagine what a client looks like without her clothes. That's creepy. Well, technically it’s part of my job, to picture what clothes would fit best depending on the body, but still! No! Nope! Not her! Not like that! Not-

“Um… I'm done.”

She pushes the curtain open and – oh my god. Oh god. Oh fuck. Shit. Um. Wow.

I’ve never, and I mean never seen someone wear a suit jacket like she does. Like it… it’s just… she’s just…

“You’re perfect.”

She blinks. I blink. OH SHIT I SAID THAT OUT LOUD COME ON THINK THINK THINK SAY SOMETHING-

“I-It looks perfect on you, I mean!”

That's… Ugh, that's not much better, but at least it’s gotta be a little less out of line, right?!

She smiles. Oh fuck, she smiles. With all of her teeth. And it just lights up her entire face, her eyes glint behind her glasses.

“Is that why you're all red now, Bronya?”

Huh? Huh???

Hold up, where exactly did the shyness from earlier go?! That's not fair. That is so totally not fair –

… Wait a minute.

“How do you know my name?”

The embarrassment dawns on her face again. She can't dodge that question, the sellers don't wear name tags here.

“I… sort of guessed it was you? I’m actually a second year in psychology, and you're pretty popular at uni. You write in their newspaper, right? I always read your column. It's cathartic.”

Huh? She…

First off, I didn’t take her for a student at all, certainly not a year behind me. Second, I had no fucking idea I was known to the point that second year psychology students talk about me. Third, she reads my columns. She actually reads my columns. Holy crap.

“I… Uh… Thanks. I'm sorry I never noticed you before, I just… I guess we don't see you guys often?”

Because if I had seen her before, I’d definitely remember it.

“It’s okay. I only saw you from afar before, or heard about you from other people, so I'm glad I can finally speak to you in person.”

And she says it… not really excitedly, but she looks so sincere. She sounds so earnest. I have no idea how to react to that. I’m not prepared for this.

“I mean… Well, nice to meet you, I guess, uh…?”

“Lubell.”

Lubell. Even her name is pretty.

“Well, I sure hope I live up to the rumors, Lubell.”

“Hm… I wouldn’t say that. There's something the rumors never told me about you.”

She smiles again. And it's more timid, but it's still…

“You’re really kind.”

…

Well that's…

I've received tons of compliments before but…

That one…

Is definitely…

New.

Fuck.

“I'm… just doing my job.”

“Well, it feels like much more than that to me, so thank you.”

She does a little turn with the jacket and the shirt on. Clément and Alma really must have shit in their eyeballs because that's a definite ten. Or a twelve. Hell, that's a twenty.

“I think I'll buy those, in any case. I’ll see you at uni, then?”

Oh god. She wants to see me again. Don't be weird.

“Um, yeah, sure. I’m glad you… like the clothes.”

She smiles again, pulls the curtain back. I try really really hard to not think about her movements in there but my head’s a mess. Oh the horrifying ordeal of being known. She gets out with her hoodie on and my heart doesn't slow down at all.

“Thanks again. I’ll tell you how it goes next year. And I'll write a review on the store website to say that a very kind ginger employee helped me.”

And off she goes to pay, leaving me standing there gawking and blushing like an idiot. What the hell is wrong with me today? Well, what isn’t would be a better question.

A hand pats me on the shoulder. It’s Mireille. Mireille’s a forty-year old woman with hair dyed red and the manager for today, which is good because I like her and right now she seems pretty pleased with me.

“Nice job, Bronya. I've seen that girl go in and out of at least five other stores here. But look at her now, going home with brand new clothes and a smile. And we gain a new client. Some people could learn a thing or two from you.”

She shoots a disapproving look towards Clément and Alma, both back to gossiping in a corner, before patting my shoulder.

“Well, I’m going to go be the Big Bad Manager with them for a minute. You take a break, alright? And then back to work, missy. Those clothes aren’t gonna sell themselves!”

And she leaves to go yell at my dearest colleagues. Maybe there is a god up there. At any rate, I'm grateful for the free break and the calm it brings. I sit on a bench to massage my leg a little, let my thoughts go a little astray, as a treat.

Lubell, huh. She has a pretty smile. A pretty face. She’s just pretty.

You're kind.

I’m not. I’m really not. But it's nice to hear.

I’ll tell you how it goes.

So she really intends to see me again.

Wow.

My face is hot.

Maybe this job isn't so shitty after all.

[mialander]

first meetings (part one)

homelander x oc

summary: a new intern starting at vought catches homelander’s attention.

author’s note: kinda softer compared to what i usually write… this was really just meant as an excuse to write out oc lore in a fic and give these two background lol

Working at Vought was almost like a dream come true.

Only almost because in her dream world, Mia would’ve had an office on the 99th floor with diplomas of higher education hanging proudly on her walls. Able to dress in fancy blouses and skirts and dresses everyday with overpriced jewelry. Able to walk around New York without having to worry about how she was going to pay for her next meal. Hell, maybe she’d be able to hire her own personal chef. God know she can barely cook more than ramen noodles like the poor and sleep deprived college student she was.

In her dream world, she would get to work with the Seven - with Homelander. As a fully mature woman, not some stupid, clumsy college girl.

But unfortunately, she lived in the real world.

Still, an internship was far better than nothing. Sure, she’s just a college student and is barely getting paid more than minimum wage and probably won’t do anything more exciting than fetch people’s coffees, but it would look damn good on a résumé.

Plus, even if she wasn’t working directly with Homelander, she was still in the same building as him! How many of her friends could say that? Exactly, none.

Walking into her first day of work, she felt extremely underdressed being in a light pink sweater and jeans she got from a store down the street from her shitty little apartment with a pearl necklace that had a little heart charm attached to it.

But she was in a good mood today. Good enough of a mood to ignore the obviously condescending comment by her supervisor, Ashley, about how adorable she looked, while the older woman looked at her outfit was clear disapproval.

“Mia Cormac… So, you’re a sophomore in college, right?” Ashley asked, looking at Mia’s profile as they walked the bustling halls of Vought Tower.

“Just finished my freshman year,” Mia answered, fidgeting with the ring on her index finger. “4.0 gpa.”

“And it says here you want to go to law school after you graduate?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s bold,” Ashley turned around to face her and Mia had to admit she was impressed with how Ashley was able to talk, walk backwards in heels, and look at her tablet all at the same time. “Bold is good here! I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

Mia forced a smile and nodded, taking the time to look at her surroundings as Ashley explained her duties and how things worked around here. Taking coffee orders, scheduling meetings, the occasional job shadowing of higher ups - all that stuff.

Vought Tower was just so big. She felt like she could get lost in here for days - maybe even months.

“You know, sometimes interns get to shadow members of the Seven!” Ashley told her excitedly, “of course that requires over 300 hours put in, a recommendations from a supervisor, typically not missing a single day of work-”

“A member of the Seven?” Mia perked up, “you mean… I could shadow Homelander for a day?”

Ashley’s smile immediately fell and her shoulders visibly tensed up. But just as quickly as it was gone, that overly fake smile was planted back on her face.

“Homelander‘s usually too busy for that sort of stuff. Being leader of the Seven,” she told Mia, “it’s usually The Deep, Translucent, or A-Train. Maybe Maeve, if she’s in a good enough mood. Black Noir used to do them too, but he kind of freaked some of the interns out, so it’s been a while since we had interns follow him.”

“Ahh…”

Mia tried to hide her clear disappointment.

Maeve wouldn’t be bad to follow around, but the other three? Mia didn’t have anything against them, of course. They were heroes, after all and deserved nothing less than the utmost respect. But… everyone had their favorite heroes, right? Her’s just happened to not be them.

“They’re great! Everyone here is so great!” Ashley was quick to add. Why does everything out of her mouth sound so forced? “But again, getting to shadow one of them is rare. Like, really, really rare.”

Now it was Mia’s turn to fake a smile and nod as Ashley blabbered on.

“Okay, well, you know where my office is if you need me. For now, head up to the 62nd floor. There’s a board meeting happening and they need someone to get their lunch orders,” Ashley began walking away, but then turned around to add, “I’m just going to warn you now, but if you fuck up even one detail, get one person’s favorite sauce wrong, and your internship will be over before it even begins.”

“…alrighty then…” Mia said mostly to herself since Ashley was already on her way down the hall.

Mia sighed, hitting the elevator button and stepping inside. She stared at the many buttons on the inside, almost tempted to hit the one for the 99th floor just to see what would happen. Would it even work? She felt like it would be the same thing as trying to take an elevator to Mt. Olympus or something.

She resisted the urge, hitting the one for the 62nd floor like she was supposed. It would not do well for her to be fucking around on her first day of work, after all. Especially with how��� demanding it seemed to be.

She stood alone in the elevator, hands resting in front of her until the elevator stopped on the 25th floor. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, not particularly in the mood for conversation.

Until she glanced stripped red and white fabric out of the corner of her eye. Her breath hitched slightly.

There was no fucking way…

Still keeping her eyes trained as low as she could while still getting a good view, she almost collapsed.

Homelander was right there. Next to her. Alone in an elevator.

This felt exactly like the setup of several explicit dreams she had had before. The memories made her cheeks heat up, almost red enough to match her curly hair.

Should she say something? What do you even say to the greatest hero ever? She’d probably end up embarrassing herself, but-

“I’m guessing that you're new here?” Homelander’s voice cut through her thoughts, a hint of amusement lacing it.

Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod he’s actually speaking to me.

“Yes,” her voice cracked so badly she felt like a part of her died inside. She quickly cleared her throat, “y-yes, sir. I-I just started today. Internship. For college. I’m, umm, Mia. Mia Cormac.”

Homelander chuckled and oh she felt like her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“Well,” he held out his hand and she shakily, but eagerly took it, “it’s so nice to meet you, Mia Cormac.”

“Y-yeah. You too,” she swallowed. She thought for a few seconds to decide if she wanted to keep talking and against her better judgement, she decided to speak sons more, “I-I don’t want to seem like some sort of deranged super fan or whatever, but… I just want to say I… admire and respect you so much, sir. What you do is just… amazing. You… you’re my favorite hero. Really.” She was internally kicking herself. Sounding like a deranged super fan? There had definitely been more insane people than her when meeting their idol. Sounding like a lovesick puppy, however? Yeah… She swallowed, “…sorry.”

But to her surprise instead of calling her a freak, Homelander smiled at her. Actually smiled.

There was heat building up somewhere else besides her face now.

The elevator suddenly dinged, signaling their arrival to the 62nd floor. She didn’t know if she was grateful or angry with it.

“W-well, this is my stop. I-it was a pleasure meeting you… sir,” she said. But as she stepped out of the elevator, a gloved hand gently wrapped itself around her wrist.

Her eyes were wide as she looked back at Homelander who was still smiling at her. Though, there was a hint of something a bit more then friendliness in it, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

“Mia,” he said, almost sounding like he was savoring the taste of her name on his lips, “I really do hope to see you around.”

He let go of her and the elevator closed as he stepped back inside before she could respond.

Mia took a minute to catch her breath, looking around the hallway. Everyone walked by like it was just a normal day. As if Homelander hadn’t just talked to her - hadn’t just touched her! Her - a mere mortal.

She hadn’t believed in God since she was 14, but she had more or less been convinced since soon after that belief had developed that Homelander was the closest thing this universe would ever have to a god.

And he wanted to see her again.

She let out another shaky breath, rushing to find the meeting room she was supposed to go to. She didn’t have time to be giddy about all this. If she hadn’t been encouraged to not fuck up before, now failure - cliché as it may sound - was absolutely not an option. Not if she wanted to cling onto that hope of ever seeing or talking to him again.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 68

First - Previous - Masterlist - Next

The guest room in Octavinelle is nice. Opulent to the point where it felt like a crime to touch the delicate engravings in the wardrobe, but not flashy like Scarabia. It was still flaunting its wealth, sure, but in the ‘sheets with an uncountable number of threads’ way rather than the ‘goblet studded with gaudy diamonds’ way.

All of this to say, the pajamas were soft, and the Yuus were going to find a way to steal something from this place if it was the last thing they did.

You may think they have a death wish but, you see, they had been casually stealing stuff from all the dorms for an entire semester, and no one actually cared that much. Whether they just thought they were too pitiful to prosecute (Leona), or they just seemed to like them as people (Riddle, which was unfortunate for him), or wouldn’t notice (Kalim)... well, they had been steadily making improvements to their dorm.

Ito squinted at the blue, purple, and silver room. They weren’t even sure there was anything they wanted from this place.

Not that that mattered. They did most of the things Kuroki and Enma asked them to regardless of what they wanted, since their wants usually weren’t typically more than a mild preference, but still…

“None of these colors would go with what we already have.”

“We can always sell it and get a bunch of cheaper things,” Kuroki said, brightly, not deterred in the slightest.

Ito shrugged. Fair enough.

“I’m surprised you’re down for this, Kuroki,” Enma said mildly, peering thoughtfully at the label of what appeared to be a complimentary wine glass (which he held out of Ito’s reach the second he saw them looking, the prick). “I mean, if there’s anyone here that’d prosecute someone for a crime, it’d be Ashengrotto-senpai.”

Kuroki waved him off. “It wouldn’t be worth the hassle. Beyond the fact that places like this always factor theft into their profit margins, and I’d bet my ass Azul does that plus some, and I’m sure the guy was expecting us in particular to pull something… we’re in international waters, technically, so everything done here is technically not a crime.”

“Ohhhhh… so that’s why the school’s here,” said Ito, a tiny lightbulb pinging above their head. “The Headmaster’s tax fraud is harder to pin down if the taxes don’t go to a specific country.”

“Probably,” said Kuroki, though he seemed less than happy about Crowley's immunity to the law. “It’s probably also why people think we’re spies or assassins. If you’re gonna pick off a student, this is the place to do it.”

“Cowards,” Ito said, absently picking up a makeup holder to see whether it was something they could reasonably carry out of the place. Most of the Octavinelle students had naturally flawless skin (according to Floyd Leech), and therefore didn’t really wear makeup, so they might not notice... “If you’re gonna assassinate someone, you should at least put yourself at risk, too. Not fair if you don’t.”

“I don’t think assassins are trying to be fair,” said Kuroki.

“They should be!”

“Ito, in the nicest way possible, you have literally never done anything in the ‘fair’ way, ever,” Enma added.

Ito pressed their lips into a thin line. “Yeah, I have.”

“Name one time.”

Ito opened their mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Closed it again.

… they had to have played nice at least once in their life, right? Statistically, it had to have happened…

They snapped their fingers. “Oh! Rock, paper, scissors is fair!”

“First of all, the fact that you had to resort to that is sad,” said Kuroki. “Second of all, no it is not, I don’t know how you make yourself lose every time, but you have to be, you’ve lost too much for it to be statistically possible.”

“It’s because they always put a bit of emphasis on the one they want us to use,” Enma said, sighing. “They’ll say rock, paper, scissors, shoot. It’s stupid, but it works more often than not.”

Kuroki made a ‘huh!’ sound, officially enlightened.

Ito pressed their lips into a thin line. Damn. They’d been had.

Time to make this someone else’s problem.

“I need a midnight snack with all this thinking,” Ito lamented.

A pillow slammed into their face, and they pouted as it fell onto their lap.

“Fuck you,” Kuroki hissed, snatching up the pillow again just so he could throw it at them a second time.

Ito, understandably, dodged this one. They didn’t think that was a joke that deserved two pillows to the face.

Kuroki seemed to disagree.

But he got his win in the end. Enma managed to grab Ito while they were distracted, dragging him into a hug… of sorts, if you ignore the way they were trying to claw their way out of his arms. Not because they were particularly against a hug, they were just feeling spiteful.

“You’re never leaving our sides again,” Enma said, cheerful despite the red marks they'd carved into one of his arms.

Ito squinted. “You were looking for an excuse to say that anyway.”

“Mmm, and thank you for giving me one.”

“... I think I preferred getting hit in the face with a pillow.”

“Deal,” said Kuroki.

“Wait –.”

“Not while I’m holding them –!”

Alas, they were too late. There was a pillow in their very near future.

Enma and Ito shared conspiratorial looks.

Kuroki was smart enough to take his pillow back.

Alas, they were in a bedroom.

Enma and Ito reached for the nearest pillows.

Kuroki looked like he was regretting picking a fight. “Hold on, what if I say ‘sorry’?”

“Too late! Get him!”

“Grim! Grim, wake up and help me!”

~

“... so we have to steal the pillows,” said Enma, picking a feather out of Kuroki’s hair.

“The ones at the dorm were a little worn out…” said Kuroki.

Ito lit up. “And we can always use those old pillowcases we stole from Savanaclaw, so our red and yellow aesthetic can be maintained!”

They high-fived. Gotta love when life works out like that.

~

“I don’t want to be awake at god-awful o’clock,” Ito complained, only a step above a tantrum, and willing to throw away that small decency at any moment.

Kuroki sighed. “It’s – Azul’s orders. If we’re staying here, we have to do it.”

Ito peeked through their eyelids. Kuroki was running his fingers through his hair, trying to get the tangles out. Enma was still leaning over them, poking insistently at their cheek to keep them from falling asleep again. Grim was passed out at their side, the lucky bastard.

“You should quit your job,” Ito grumbled.

“I could say the same about you,” Kuroki said. “Say what you will about Azul, I don’t care for the guy, but at least he actually pays me.”

Enma lit up as an idea occurred to him: “You could both quit and join me!”

“Sam’s shop isn’t big enough for that,” Kuroki said.

Life was terrible for one Enma Yuuken.

And it was going to get worse!

Ito sat up for the sole purpose of glaring at Enma. “Why do I have to wake up but Grim doesn’t?”

“Because he can be carried,” Kuroki shrugged.

Ito thought about this. Their pride, or a couple minutes of sleep, which would they be more comfortable sacrificing?

They looked at Enma.

Enma sighed, deeply. And then he scooped them up. “Fine, but just until breakfast –.”

Ito had already passed out against his shoulder.

~

“So, let’s go over what we know,” Kuroki said. He was clinging to Ito’s arm while they walked, as if scared that they would suddenly be put under a spell again once they got too close to Scarabia.

Which, admittedly, might be true, the spell could be distance-related… Ito didn’t think it was, though. They weren’t sure why. Their head hurt whenever they tried to think about it.

Enma chanced a glance back at the Octavinelle students to make sure they were out of earshot.

They were very out of earshot. Floyd had taken it upon himself to make sure that Enma and Jade were never within five yards of each other, minimum.

(It had made breakfast slightly awkward, since Jade and Enma had been made to stand in opposite corners of the room with their plates.)

Jade waved at Enma.

Enma immediately looked away, the tips of his ears tinting red. “Well, the stuff with Ito confirms that there’s definitely someone with the ability to mind control. So, it’s either someone with a grudge against Kalim-senpai or someone who benefits from him being taken down.”

“So… anyone with any social capital in Scarabia at all – or someone who thinks Kalim-senpai is really annoying,” Ito summed up, swirling their coke bottle cheerily. Their heart was pounding in their chest once again! Hell yeah, caffeine!

Wait, they were a little too jittery.

Eh. Surely, that was fine.

“... yeah,” Enma said. “The secret grudge thing would be harder to find out, I feel… sure, someone could be an open dissenter to sow chaos, but sometimes it’s better to just let others talk…”

Ito hummed. “Nothing worse than an echo chamber.”

“If it’s hard to find a grudge, then we should do that second, right?” Grim said.

The Yuus immediately cooed over how smart their monster was. Truly, they grow up so fast. Look at him, making basic observations on how to best spend their time! Maybe next month he’ll stop believing Ace when their friend so-nicely offers to teach Grim fake slang!

… ugh, even being an asshole in their own brain wasn’t distracting them from how shitty they felt. Truly, it was incurable.

“Did I eat yesterday?” they asked.

Enma frowned at the, from his perspective, completely random topic change. “Er… yeah, why?”

“I dunno,” they said, frowning. “I feel – weird – I was wondering if, maybe, the person mind controlling me forgot to tell me to eat.”

Kuroki’s eyebrows knit. “I mean, maybe? You kinda just did… whatever we told you to. You didn’t start eating on your own, but when we asked you to you did.”

Ito’s eyes widened as a horrible thought occurred to them: “Wait, what about the bathroom?”

Enma snorted, patting them on the back briefly. “Don’t worry, we figured it out by that point.”

“Oh thank fuck.”

Kuroki grinned, but his amusement was quick to fade. “You really don’t remember anything?”

“Not really,” Ito said. “Last thing I remember, I was in the kitchen snacking on bell peppers at an ungodly time of the morning. Life really does screw you over in your happiest moments.”

“The culprit is an early riser, then?” Azul cut in, throwing his arm around Ito’s shoulders.

Son of a –.

Kuroki turned his head and sunk his teeth into Azul’s arm.

The group of teens stood there for a solid ten seconds, staring in a mix of shock and horror.

“Get your dog,” Azul said.

“Eavesdropping isn’t polite, senpai,” Enma said.

“You –!” He finally managed to tear his way out of Kuroki’s mouth. “You three do it all the time!”

There wasn’t any blood and, even though Ito had been expecting that (biting hard enough to draw blood is, well, hard, after all), they were still relieved to see it.

“When we do it it’s for the good of mankind,” Ito deadpanned. “When you do it it’s because you’re annoying.”

“You shouldn’t talk to your senpai like that,” Enma said.

“You’re right, I should use more thinly veiled insults,” Ito said, rolling their eyes. “And why am I in trouble? Kuroki bit him.”

“Traitor,” grumbled Kuroki.

“Kuroki does stuff like this all the time, but I expect more from you, Ito,” said Enma.

“Dickhead.”

“Puta.”

“Doesn’t ending in ‘a’ mean it’s a – uh – girl thing?”

“You’re right. I should use your preferred pronouns when insulting you. Puto.”

“Great, thanks. What does it mean, by the way?”

Ito pressed their lips together, thinking hard. “Mmmmm… bitch. Or, literally, I guess I’d be calling you a whore?”

“... oh. Hm. I guess I’m flattered you think I get lots of attention.”

“You would if Kuroki wasn’t around.”

“Hey, if his potential suitors can’t handle a little bit of psychological torture, then they’re not gonna last long, anyway. I’m saving him time!”

~

“... you’re back,” said Jamil, in the most dead inside voice Ito had ever heard.

“No one’s ever excited to see us,” Ito pointed out, frowning.

“Wonder why,” said Azul.

“A true mystery,” Jamil said. And then he flinched, watching the three Octavinelle students emerge from the dark stairway like characters in a horror movie. The only thing ruining this effect was that Jamil looked more annoyed than genuinely scared. “What are you three doing here?”

“Nothin’,” Floyd blatantly lied.

“If you have no business here, I would prefer it if you leave,” Jamil said.

“Even though we came all this way?” Azul said, his eyes wide in mock surprise.

“If you did so for no reason, then yes.”

Azul pressed a hand to his chest, aghast. “Must you have a reason to visit a – friend?”

(Azul paused before the word ‘friend’, as if he had to physically force it out of his mouth. Why is everyone at this school so socially stunted?)

“We even brought a seafood pizza as a little present,” Floyd added.

“It’s Headmaster-approved, so you know it’s good,” Ito said. “You don’t want it to go cold, do you?”

Jamil sent them a betrayed look.

The Octavinelle kids used this as an opportunity to brush right past Jamil and into Scarabia dorm.

Jamil’s eyes widened in horror. He rushed after them. “You can’t just – let yourself in!”

“I’m sure Kalim wouldn’t mind. Is he awake yet?”

“I… was about to wake him up.”

“Perfect!” said Azul.

“Would you mind taking us to him?” Jade asked.

“I would, yeah.”

Floyd beamed. “Sweet, thanks!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Grim lifted his head from on top of Enma’s. “They sure are lively, hm?”

“Yeah,” said Ito.

~

Jamil’s complaints fell on deaf ears (or, at least, partially deaf ears), and it seemed that Jade had done his homework – he knew the exact layout of the dorm, and was happy to be their tour guide. Did that have some terrifying implications? Absolutely.

But, hey, Ito was too busy helping Enma and Kuroki take note of everyone they passed. It seemed they had taken Azul’s ‘early-riser’ comment to heart.

And there was… surprisingly few people, honestly. Ito had never paid much attention in the mornings, but apparently they weren’t the only one who was not a morning person here. They only passed around three or four people, who seemed to be patrolling the place.

Hm. Looks like Enma and Kuroki would be figuring out the truth sooner than they’d first assumed… aw, that wouldn’t be fun for anyone. Not Ito, but not Kuroki and Enma, either. If the answer was too obvious, they’d get mad at themselves for not realizing sooner. And Ito didn’t want that…

One of the patrolling students’ eyes never left the Yuus as they passed, and their expression could only ever be described as pissed.

“What’d we do to him?” Ito asked.

“Mmmm…” Enma squinted at the guy for a second, trying to place his face. “Maybe he got caught up in the fire we set… but he doesn’t really smell like smoke…?”

“Oh oh oh oh!” said Kuroki, snapping his fingers. “He was guarding the treasury.”

“Oh yeah!” said Enma. “We hit him over the head with a table.”

“How’d you pick up a table?”

“Technically we hit the table with him –,” Enma tried to put them on the right track.

“Spite,” Kuroki and Grim said, in unison.

Ito snickered, rolling their eyes. “I see.”

“... what’s this about our treasury?” Jamil asked, his eyebrows knitting.

Kuroki waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, we didn’t get to keep the shit anyway…”

(He was obviously bitter about this fact.)

Jamil glanced at Ito, who managed a minuscule shrug as if to say ‘you took my memory, reap what you sow’. The boy gave a long, put-upon sigh, before holding his hand out. “Hand over your matches. I don’t need a repeat of last night.”

Grim sniffed. “Matches? Come on, a fire like that can’t be done with mere matches.”

“And it’s the 21st century, senpai, most people use lighters these days anyway,” added Enma.

“Or fire magic!” said Grim.

“Or fire magic,” Ito agreed.

Jamil looked like he was considering taking Grim away from them to get rid of their access to fire.

“Try it,” Ito said, flatly. “See how that goes for you.”

Jamil, briefly, made an irritated face, before turning back to trying to stop the Octavinelle students from getting to Kalim’s room.

Alas, the conversation was not quite as over for Ito. Kuroki’s hands latched around theirs and he yanked on their arm to get their attention.

“Since when have you been close to Viper-senpai?”

Ito hummed, lifting their shoulders in a shrug. “I wouldn’t call us particularly close. He lent me his hair oil brand once, though, that was nice of him.”

Kuroki narrowed his eyes. His eyes flicked to Jamil. “Viper-senpai’s suspicious.”

Ito choked on nothing. “You can’t go around suspecting people of evil just because I might be friends with them.”

“I can and will.”

“I mean, he does fit the criteria,” said Enma, his arms crossed over his chest. “I mean, he has plenty of reason to have something against Kalim-senpai. And he’s the only one whose name has come up as a possible replacement for Kalim-senpai so far.”

“Suspicious,” said Kuroki, nodding along fervently.

Ito snickered, pinching Kuroki’s cheek. “You knew all of this all along, hm?”

“Nonono, I have this gut feeling, it’s him.”

“That gut feeling is called ‘jealousy’,” said Grim.

“No, it’s not.”

“Oh, damn, he’s got us,” Ito said.

~

Kalim was extremely surprised to find that his room had been invaded while he slept. Waking up to the Octavinelle students leaning over his bed might give him nightmare material for the next several years.

But he brightened up soon enough. “Oh! Hi, everyone!”

The guy’s arm looked like it was going to pop right off by the time he’d waved at everyone (he’d individually given every person an enthusiastic wave, because he was that kind of guy).

The Yuus leaned against a wall, watching everyone catch up.

Enma’s eyes flicked to Jamil, before he sighed, throwing an arm over Ito’s shoulders. “So, uh, what do we do if it really is Viper-senpai?”

“Hm?” said Ito, their head tipping slightly to the side. Had Kuroki’s half-joke alerted Enma? Or had he already been somewhat suspicious? He’d mentioned that someone was using the situation to their advantage, way back then.

Kuroki hugged Grim closer to his chest, frowning. “I mean, I don’t really care if Kalim-senpai loses his dormhead spot… and if it is Viper-senpai, then he’s definitely got every reason to be mad… but whoever it was, they shouldn’t have fucked with Ito.”

Ito smiled, holding their hands up. “I’m fine, really.”

“We have to remember, though,” Kuroki said.

“I could hit you in the head real hard and see if it resets your memory?” they offered.

“Terrible plan,” said Kuroki. Fair enough.

Enma just smiled and rested his chin on top of Ito’s head. “I’ll pass, too.”

“Look at them over there!” Azul said, pointing at the Yuus, yanking them into a conversation that was surely less entertaining than the one they’d been having. Sad. “Truly, the prime example of more heads being better than one!”

The Yuus glanced at each other, amusement gleaming in their eyes, because they technically were still one head, just from different universes.

“When there’s more than one person calling the shots, you can make up for each other’s weaknesses!” Azul said.

“Bold of you to think we have any weak spots even when we’re alone,” said Enma. Despite the fact that he was currently clinging to Ito.

Jade raised an eyebrow.

Another good point!

Enma immediately flushed bright red and tried to hide his face in Ito’s hair. Ito lifted a hand to awkwardly pat his back.

“Regardless of all that,” said Azul, shooting Enma a look as if to say ‘literally what is there to like about Jade anyway’ that Enma couldn’t actually see (nor would he answer if he could), before returning to his smarmy smile. “My point is, we can help each other improve our training regimens!”

“... I recommend against this,” said Jamil.

Kalim frowned. “I know you don’t like them, Jamil, but they have a point!”

“The whole point of this training camp is to help our dorm rank higher. If we invite the housewarden of another dorm to join us, would they not get better as well?”

“But you brought Kuroki Yuuya-kun in.”

Jamil blanched, briefly. And then he coughed, delicately. “Well, the Ramshackle students are hardly a powerhouse, grade-wise. Their dorm average was barely passing.”

Kuroki looked like he was barely suppressing the urge to grab the nearest thing made of gold and throw it at Jamil’s head. And only because he had clearly already weighed himself losing that particular fight.

Jamil turned to Azul. “I’m doing this for your own good. Leave while you still can.”

Azul shrugged. “You're absolutely right, Jamil. Other dorms are always going to be, on some level, our rivals in the grade standings. I'm afraid we'd best take our leave, boys. Kalim, Jamil, best of luck with your training. Back to spending yet another holiday stuck indoors in the dead of winter, just the three of us. It's unavoidable, I suppose...”

“And after we went to the trouble to get here…” said Jade, his voice as mournful as he could make it past the sly smile on his face.

Floyd looked like he was about a second from turning into a sad puddle on the floor. “We even brought pizza…”

The Yuus have never been so offended in their lives. This is an affront to the art of lying.

“Siiiiiiiigh,” the three of them chorused.

Did they just say fucking ‘SIGH’?!

“Wait!” said Kalim, scrambling to crawl out of his blankets.

It worked?!

“Azul is one of the top magicians in our whole school. I think Scarabia would benefit greatly from having him over!” Kalim said, almost pleading with Jamil.

His ‘friend’ looked unconvinced.

“...Besides, turning away esteemed guests out of hand would bring shame upon the Asim family name.”

Jamil sucked in air through his teeth, caught.

Azul lit up. “Why, Kalim! What a kind and generous soul you are! Naturally, I would be more than happy to share any insights I have with you.”

“The two of us will be happy to assist with cooking and cleaning,” Jade added, pressing a hand to his chest.

Floyd nodded along eagerly. “Yeah! We do it at the lounge anyway, so we're pretty good at it.”

“That would be great! And it would ease Jamil's workload, too! He’s seemed so tired lately!”

Ito perked up slightly.

Their eyes shot to Kalim.

Because… there was something there. A note of desperation that didn’t quite fit the tone of the conversation.

Did Kalim know that Jamil was overworked? Ito supposed that they should have known that already – Kalim had mentioned Jamil being overworked before, way back during the Magift incident. Ito had only really taken note of it because of Jamil’s reaction, the sudden way he’d cut to a new conversation had been interesting, but Kalim…

Well, it was a surprisingly adept observation coming from someone who had just fallen for the most obvious lie in history.

And hadn’t Kalim always been able to tell when Ito was lying?

When did he get so good at that? Why was it only their lies that he caught onto?

Perhaps because he was used to them.

… Kalim hadn’t actually seemed all that surprised, the day he’d nearly Overblotted. Maybe by the fact that Jamil had tried to drug him, but certainly not about the coup. He’d said that he didn’t care what Jamil was doing.

Which was strange, wasn’t it? Your ‘best friend’ is trying to overthrow you as ‘king’ of a dorm, wouldn’t the average person be upset about it? Wouldn’t it give you pause?

Unless, of course, you were already aware of it.

Holy shit. Does Kalim know?

[overalls4all]

Hector always considered himself pretty smart. Maybe he wasn't the top of his class in school, but he had a good way of reading people and could always thunk critically in any situation. So when the Overalls for All Act passed, he could see through the propaganda about "the value of hard-work" and "traditional masculinity". Hector knew these new laws where ways to control men, humiliate them into submission, and turn them into obedient workers.

Unfortunately for Hector, knowing this reality was not a way to stop it. Like all men, Hector reported to the Overalls Distribution Center and started wearing overalls. Despite his better judgement, Hector gave up his office job to work at a constriction site.

Hector's coworkers were the dumb jock types. None of them ever questioned the motives behind the Overalls for All Act. They all happily sung its praises. They were obsessed with their labor and their overalls; it was all they seemed capable of talking about. Hector would add lip-service to these praises, but deep-down Hector hated acting like some overalls-clad drone.

One day, Hector was called into the foreman's office. The foreman was a large, middle-aged man in blue denim overalls. He asked Hector to take a seat.

"Hector, we've noticed some concerning behaviors on site," said the foreman from behind his desk.

"Concerning? What do you mean?" asked Hector.

"I have some concerns about your loyalty to the Overalls for All Movement," said the foreman with a sigh.

"But I love my overalls! I always say the Overalls Pledge. I wear my overalls 24/7. How am I not loyal?"

"Your eyes, Hector. Have you ever looked your coworkers in the eyes? They show no signs of independent thought. They simply hear orders and carry them out. Their words are just repeated from Overalls propaganda."

Hector swallowed. He knew where this was going.

"Your eyes, though, still show a spark of individuality. Of humanity. But fortunately, that will change today Hector," the foreman pulled out a pocket watch from his bib pocket. "Just keep your eyes on this and listen closely to my words, Hector."

Hector was trapped. He couldn't just up and run without gaining the attention of an Overalls Compliance Officer. He could try to resist, but the foreman could already see through his deceit. As his mind raced, his stare stayed fixed on the swaying pocket watch. Despite the stress in his mind, it was almost relaxing to focus on one small thing.

"You are a mindless obedient worker. You do not think. You only obey. You love wearing overalls. You will always wear overalls. You will wear overalls and obey," the foreman spoke in a calm, gentle, yet forceful tone.

Hector's mind slowed down. The foreman's voice was soothing. His fears and concerns began to quiet down in his head, until they were no more than a whisper. Maybe I should just keep listening, thought Hector.

"You are a mindless obedient worker. You do not think. You only obey. You love wearing overalls. You will always wear overalls. You will wear overalls and obey," the foreman repeated. "Now tell me what you are."

Hector's eyes seemed to lose focus. His posture drooped forward. His mouth drooped down, his words dumbly slurring out of his mouth, "I am a mindless obedient worker. I do not think. I only obey. I love wearing overalls. I will always wear overalls. I will wear overalls and obey."

The foreman looked in Hector's eyes and saw nothing. Hector was truly mindless, compliant, obedient, and submissive.

"Good boy. Report back tomorrow for another loyalty session. Now get back to work!"

Mouth agape, yet dumbly smiling, Hector rose from the chair. "Yes, sir!" he moaned.

Hector went back to the site. A group of workers were gathered. Each one wore a stupid smile on his face and uniform overalls.

"I love overalls," said one, as he pawed his hand over his bib.

"Me too. I will wear overalls and obey!" said another, pulling on his straps.

The other men laughed and chuckled watching their comrades tug at their overalls.

Hector joined the crowd. Hector stared blankly, laughing along with the group.

Hahaha, I love overalls too. It feels good to obey in my overalls. Hahaha, he though over and over.

Without another thought, Hector shouted out,"I love overalls!" before stupidly laughing alongside the other dumb workers.

Whatever concerns Hector once had about the Overalls for All Act were gone. He loved his overalls. He loved to obey. He was happy now. Happy and mindless.

[thehoodedsweater]

Since I’ve ranted about my OC Edward a lot here, I feel like I should explain how he would be if he was in the RGB cartoon!

I’m gonna yap so heads up lmao

First fact- Since Egon was made a blonde in the toon, I switched Edward to a brunette (even though he’s blonde in the main universe). Hair color switching is fun, and it also keeps his color palate from being too overwhelming! (This helps with Elizabeth too, since they’re siblings who are meant to look very much alike. Perhaps in one “Episode concept” they would attempt to switch identities and see who has the harder job.) Second- He has a tooth gap now. Just cause. I felt like it would be cute. It adds uniqueness for his expressions too. He also blushes a lot easier, for the sake of it being a toon.

Third- Since the toon seems to exaggerate/change their personalities a little, I made it so Edward’s anxiousness (and crushing on Egon if we’re gonna step into shipping territory) are heightened up to eleven. In the movie universe he’s a little anxious, sure (in the first movie he’s slightly anxious but relatively cheery and willing to help [think kind of like Louis, but not exactly], in the second movie he’s a lot more cynical and anxious due to going to law school and having to deal with the Ghostbusters again after five years [and the amount of trouble they get into]) but the toon would take it up a notch for the sake of comedy and plot. Fourth-He probably gets along with Peter just a little bit more? Due to the toon toning down Peter’s cynicism it makes for a different bond, other than the movie universe where Edward’s constantly at his throat for something stupid (for example, calling him “Eddie” and “Ed.”) In the toon world Edward would still be annoyed with him, but their bond is probably a lot closer than the movie universe. (Especially considering how long it would take for Edward and Peter to get along in it. They do care a lot, it just hides behind a TON of insults and banter. And unfortunately I’d imagine them leaving on pretty bad terms due to Edward leaving to the middle of nowhere [Summerville] without an explantation or leaving a note.)

Fifth-His cat, Kevin, would most likely be a reoccurring background character! Like Slimer, he probably runs around the firehouse and does his own stuff, he probably gets along with Slimer and that pisses Peter off.

Sixth-He would totally take the role of being a Ghostbuster at least once, like how Janine and Louis did. It was most likely because one was out sick/hurt and it causes a lot of chaos for Edward and his anxiety, as he volunteered without thinking to impress Egon. The “episode��� idea I had was that Peter somehow got hurt and that resulted in him being unable to fight the ghosts, so Edward takes his place for the day. There’s a B plot of Peter having to do Edward’s “boring secretary work” with Janine, and by the end Edward gets his own Ghostbusters nametag (and maybe a kiss but idk) and the reassurance he did good. Just a wholesome little ending.

WOWWW THATS A LOT OF YAPPING (and I haven’t even STARTED on explaining what his role would be in the Extreme Ghostbusters cartoon..)

Uhm

hope you guys liked it? I know some of you seem to like my ocs and their story so I’m so glad to share it all with you! Thanks for all the support :))

and if you wanna hear more let me know!!

[hermanunworthy]

hero hcs bc she deserves some rad facts of her own

- heros fave original anime (as in not a disney remake) is saiki k. she relates to saiki bc she too wishes to be an ordinary person w/o any special powers or destiny. saiki was also her trans awakening bc during middle school she read the manga and when saiki was able to just decide to switch genders she was like "why dont i just do that??"

- hero barely gets acne. shes actually been blessed w pretty good skin. but as soon as normal started getting acne, she subconsciously started developing a skin picking disorder out of anxiety thats left her skin looking just as bad as his (however she gets worried whenever normal takes too long in the bathroom and always tries to stop him whenever he starts to pick at his own skin)

- hero met erica and margarita through taylor and decided to introduce them to anime during the two months where margaritas dad was too busy watching anime w taylors friends so she could spite him. turns out she really really likes both these girls now. and they really really like anime (and hero too) now

- hero loves to accessorize. she particularly loves to collect hairclips and chewelry necklaces. shes also the one who taught normal how to make kandi

- hero is a decent driver but an awful parker. u can always tell which car is hers bc it will be super embarrassingly crooked. normal usually has to really squeeze in between cars when he gets out from the passenger seat

- hero is a big fan of funny novelty t-shirts. whenever shes not wearing something fandom specific u can bet that shell be wearing a shirt w some stupid text on it that she clearly bought on impulse

- hero likes to spend her tip money on little treats after every work day. sometimes even non vegan stuff bc she thinks she deserves a break every now and then (which is quite often for her). she always just lies and says work ran late

- hero actually prefers frozen yogurt over ice cream but would never admit that to her family. shell get ice cream when hanging out w others but takes herself out to froyo

- hero considers hermie one of The Girls and also treats her like a little sister (i mean they are siblings in law). sometimes she invites them to girls night or other things when hermie gets left out and gives him advice about her brother

- hero is a top student at her school and practically runs the stem program there (she wants to major in astronomy when she goes to college). she has the potential to be super good at pe too but purposefully doesnt put in her full effort so she can at least appear average at that

- hero chooses guys to have crushes on. she just picks whatever weird guy she comes across and then writes self insert fanfics about them. she might be a lesbian but doesnt even realize that (just give her time shes having fun for now)

- hero is actually a very talented writer but unfortunately she wastes her potential on the stupidest most obscure fandoms. she makes fun of normal for what he writes about but she is not much better than him

- hero swears that as soon as she gets her braces off, shes gonna be chewing bubblegum all the time. can u tell that shes very much an oral stimmer

- heros fave color is teal. her old worn out teal hoodie is one of her comfort items and she wears it most of the time

- heros glasses have been crooked since she got them and it annoys her all the time but she just hasnt gotten around to getting them fixed

[hollowfaith]

1, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

QUESTIONS FOR MUN

1. Who has been your favorite muse to play?

ughhhh this is hard...im gonna cheat and go for nostalgia ok

although i think i missed the mark with her muse in some places i have a special fondness for dahlia hawthorne and her specific brand of caustic sarcasm.

i don't think i've ever come up with so many different creative insults during her runtime...also she had the neatest mix of relationships with random muses, not just in AA cast (tho i remember her tormenting at least 3 different feenies??) but beyond, notably izaya and edward cullen comes to mind.

i also really liked my run as kasen kanesada because he's a very lyrical sword (or at least works hard to cultivate that image) so i had to express that in writing and ended up having a lot of fun doing flowery replies and making up poetry and generally going big ham. (it did take a lot of mental energy though so i started losing steam later on.)

i remember he had a thread with FGO Shakespeare that was pretty nice cause we got to be nerdy and talk about eastern/western literature lolololol, then for his challenge he had to kill like 5 ppl in 24 hours so i actually got 5 volunteers to get decapitated and RP'd mini threads with them all, which was wild (and again a very, very random mix of muses including X-Files Fox Mulder)

i didn't RP OCs back then but i like them a lot now too! the lack of art is an unfortunate reality but the amount of customization you get in exchange...so powerful.

5. What is the most difficult thing about writing your current muse?

stupid guy won't just kiss klaus and marry him that would solve 99% of their problems hey klaus are u listening u need to seduce this idiot or something so his brain has nothing but u all day to keep him out of mischief hey hey klaus

ahem

also his unspoken obligation to be lawful good (in his POV) really limits his ability to "act out," so sometimes i need to find different ways to de-escalate situations before he hits moral event horizon. you know, flattery and adoration goes a long way in wrapping him around your finger, i'm surprised more people don't try (i guess they can't stand him long enough to get there lol)

7. Who was the very first muse you ever wrote?

i remember answering this question on another meme maybe...?

there's a more accurate answer now: pre-tumblr, i remember RPing a Lopmon on some digimon forum once upon a time. also remember the mod that was RPing with me called me out for "slight godmodding" because i was describing how my digimon was crossing a bridge and apparently that was taking things too much into my own hands LOLOL

8. Have you ever written a novel? If not, does it interest you?

i've started written novels but i haven't finished any except for like, a couple of original oneshots. technically Veoc is a supporting character/love interest (spoilers: he's not the canon pairing) in a sci-fi story where i have the general plot laid out but y'know, actually writing it is... *flops down*

9. Do you write fanfiction, or have you in the past?

i definitely wrote more in the past but i've slowed down to a trickle since then. uhhhh i want to start up again, maybe with drabbles/oneshots, but i need to catch up on canon first before i try to do the characters justice

10. Do you like stylized icons and formatted text or do you prefer to keep things simple?

god a part of me regrets giving Aury his fancy brackets b/c i have to copy/paste that thing in every reply

so yeah i am never doing that again i just wanna open up a post and type my reply and be done with it, bless.

same with icons as long as they show a face and expression (or even body part) im happy wheee i've got plots to write

11. When did you start roleplaying?

i can't remember...gotta be probably early to mid high school cause i didn't know RP existed back then

12. Have you roleplayed anywhere other than tumblr?

forums, emails, tried a LJ group but my app got rejected so i didn't even get in (ROFL), tumblr has been the most stable medium with most long-term interactions though

[walker-extended-universe]

Randall's Story

Relationship(s): Randall & Original Characters

Tags/Warnings: Background Characters, Meta, Character Study, Backstory

Summary: A little thing I wrote because I have too much attachment to Randall

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-----

When Randall was a little boy, he wanted to be a superhero when he grew up. He spent his Saturdays watching Batman and Superman cartoons and reading Marvel comics. He wanted to save the day when he grew up.

Unfortunately, no amount of spider bites or sitting too close to the TV in the hopes of messing with his DNA gave him superpowers, so he had to look for different ways to save the day.

Volunteering with the Boy Scouts was a step in the right direction but he wanted to do more. He wanted to do more than help out at the community garden and sell questionable baked goods (though he still helped his mother with the upkeep of that garden and took baked goods around his neighborhood from time to time). He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to stop the bad guys, to save the day, and all the glory that came with it.

After 9/11, his path became clear. He was a little more mature by then. He knew the world wasn’t so black and white as “good guys” and “bad guys”, but there were still some pretty clear lines in all the gray. Going overseas to fight terrorists seemed like the clearest line and he was happy to fight for it. He was still a freshman in high school at the time but it was easy to get in the spirit of enlisting due to regular visits from recruiters and the size of their JROTC program. As soon as he graduated, he enlisted and was sent overseas.

He would’ve gone career if his mother hadn’t asked him to stop after a few years. He wasn’t a “mama’s boy” per se but he couldn’t say no to this ask. She meant too much to him, especially after his father passed. After he left the service, he picked up the mantle in the next best place: local law enforcement.

Now, there was nothing wrong with the APD. Well, there was a lot wrong with the police in general but Randall liked to think he was one of the good ones. He followed the rules to the letter, did his best to stay active in the community when he was off hours, even made the occasional trip back to his old schools to do talks about the police. The paycheck left a bit to be desired but it was all in the name of doing something good.

He just couldn’t help but want more. Serving overseas had left a mark on him, a thirst for the Bigger Picture that couldn’t be quenched by patrolling local streets and standing on the sidelines of private security. 

Then, came the day he met Cordell Walker.

Walker was already a bit of a legend, though he’d only been a ranger for five years. He was known for being a bit of a spitfire and had a tendency to  break the rules when it came to his investigations. The brass didn’t seem to mind too much though, considering his impressive closure rate. According to everything Randall heard, every case that crossed Walker’s desk got solved.

He didn’t quite believe all the rumors until he met the man himself.

They were trying to bust a street gang in Randall’s area and the Rangers came in to try and nip the situation in the bud before the gang could expand their territory. He wasn’t happy to hear about this at first; Rangers tended to steamroll over the police and take all the credit later. But, Walker was polite and took everyone’s words seriously, from the police chief to the rookie recruits. “I just want to get the job done right,” he said. “Now, let’s get these bastards.”

He wanted to be in a position like that, he realized, watching Walker work. He wanted to be someone who could do the important work without all the stops at his level. He wanted to be able to lead the charge, save the day, stop the bad guys. Just like Walker.

Randall was lucky enough to run alongside him during the final raid. It sounded stupid, but he thought Walker had turned slapping cuffs on someone into an art form. 

After all that, he knew exactly where he was going next: he was going to be a Texas Ranger.

It was a long road to get there. Training to be a Trooper was no cakewalk and even after he got his badge, he needed a couple of promotions before he could qualify for Ranger work. It was a challenge, but one he was more than up for. He knew he could do the work; he just had to get it done. And while he proved himself to his superiors time and time again, he looked forward to the day he could stand on equal footing with Walker. During his brief bouts of down time, he even fantasized about being his partner. Never for long; getting his Ranger star was about so much more than Walker’s approval. But it was nice to think about.

It took eight long years of hard work, but Randall got his Ranger star. And it was everything he thought it would be. Standing up there with the other inductees, his mother in the audience, his star glinting under the overhead lights- It was perfect. There was even a barbeque after and he got to talk to Walker on even footing for the first time. He couldn’t ask for anything more.

Well, maybe he could. He knew it would take a while, but there was a part of him that couldn’t wait to see some real action. He wanted to start tackling the worst of the worst in the great state of Texas and make a name for himself. He might not be the legend that Walker was, but he wanted to be up there with the greats.

When Captain James personally gave him an assignment tailing Walker as part of a security detail in an investigation against North Side Nation, he could hardly believe it. Working side-by-side with (or, well, right behind) his role model? This was bigger than a dream come true. This was a chance to prove to himself and everyone else that he really was made for this job.

He was a little surprised it took Walker three days to catch on to him, but with the assassination attempt and his partner being nearly AWOL, the man probably had other things on his mind than non-descript trucks following him. Randall did have to out himself to stop Walker from being caught by the NSN guys Micki was working with, but it all worked out. He even got to take out one of the bastards with Walker; that was one for the scrapbook for sure.

He didn’t get that many big assignments after that. Mostly patrols and handling lower-level cases. Randall wasn’t insulted by it. He knew James saw potential in him; it just wasn’t every day a bombshell came across your desk.

Unless, Randall noticed, you were Walker.

“I swear, every time I turn around that guy’s got himself into another mess,” Randall’s partner grumbled one night on a stakeout. He couldn’t remember how the conversation came up but after a year on as a Ranger, he couldn’t exactly argue.

As much as he still looked up to Walker, he didn’t envy the man’s poor luck. It seemed every criminal in Texas had it out for him and there was always a fire to put out. It made for interesting office gossip for sure, but he didn’t find himself yearning for that level of prestige anymore. If being one of the greats meant putting a target on your back, Randall was happy to leave that to other people. He would take his possibly pointless stakeouts over getting kidnapped and tortured by terrorists any day.

“I doubt he goes looking for trouble,” Randall said, defending his former idol. “But I can’t say I envy James. I wonder how many favors he’s pulled trying to keep Walker on the payroll.”

“More than he’d pull for either of us.”

Randall couldn’t argue with that either. “Well, unlike Walker, I follow the rules, so you’ll be stuck with me for a while yet,” he said.

“Hey, I’ll take you over some trainwreck rookie any day.”

Randall smiled and sipped his coffee. Yeah, he was pretty happy with his slightly less extraordinary position on the relative sidelines.