#who was convinced that my house was actually his house

[mizgnomer]

Behind the Scenes of The Giggle - Part Fourteen

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook’s article in DWM 599:

In the back garden of a lovely detached house in the Cardiff suburbs – “Not a mansion, but enough to make you go ‘Ooh’,” Russell’s script specifies – David Tennant is giving Bonnie Langford a bear hug. “Welcome back!” he’s saying. “How long’s it been? Thirty-four years?” What a touching moment. “Yeah! And then she sort of blew it,” David tells me later, laughing, “and said, ‘Oh, no, I was here last year!’”

In a timey-wimey twist, today – Friday, 17 June 2022, another scorcher – is Bonnie first time back on Doctor Who since 1987… bar a fleeting cameo in 2022’s The Power of the Doctor. She’s carrying an apple crumble through some patio doors.

And there are the Nobles – Donna, Rose, Sylvia and Shaun – gathered around the garden table, beneath the pergola, about to tuck into pots of curry and cauliflower cheese. (Anything but tuna madras, please.) Sat with them, joining the familial fray at Donna’s new gaff, is the Nobles’ lodger: the Doctor, like we’ve never seen him before. So relaxed. So happy. “He’s not really save-the-world Doctor right now,” Chanya tells David. “This is an off-duty Doctor.” He’s regaling his adopted family with The Eyebrows Story that he’s probably spun a hundred times before. He’s almost at the bit with the Warrior Queen of the Felooth when –

“Am I late?” Enter: Mel, wearing a Reiss dress covered in pink and white flowers. It’s a floral riff of her Time and the Rani ensemble (“They put me in white trousers in a quarry,” winces Bonnie, when I ask her about that ’87 gear. “What the hell was that about??”). “Sorry, the door was open, you don’t mind?”

“Mad Aunty Mel!! I was so happy when I thought of that,” says Russell. “At last she’s got a home, a story, a history. I suppose this house is Donna and Shaun’s, living with mum and grandad, and the Doctor as the strange lodger in the attic. They were promised compensation by UNIT at the end of The Star Beast [after their home was ravaged by Wrarth Warriors].

“Or maybe Bonnie Langford should move into Bannerman Road?” adds Russell, tantalisingly. “I wouldn’t object. MAD AUNTY MEL.”

For Catherine, working with Bonnie must be the equivalent of David partnering with Ncuti? Is there a sense that they’re kindred souls? “Oh I mean,” she says, “I’m just not as deep as that.” She explodes with laughter. “We didn’t even discuss it. I didn’t know she was a companion! I was literally going to David, ‘Bonnie Langford was in Doctor Who?!’”

“Bonnie’s quite unusual, certainly from the old show, in that she was probably better known for other things,” David reasons. “That’s quite rare. This show tends to cling to you.”

“That’s the thing about Doctor Who. You can run, but you can’t hide,” says Catherine. “It’ll get you. It’ll bring you back in the end – happily.”

Catherine has no regrets, then, about returning for these 60th Anniversary Specials? No, not one, she insists. Best of all, Donna finally gets the happy ending she deserves – the delightful fate of Donna Noble. “I think it’s just amazing that Russell has found a way to do that,” says Catherine. “I was convinced he was going to have the Doctor and Donna die in some terrible, spectacular way and everyone would be sobbing. But no. We sit in a garden and eat apple crumble with Bonnie Langford. Ha! Which is so perfect.”

When Catherine read the script for The Giggle, she was “a little bit taken aback, actually, at what happens,” she told us two issues back. Now she explains: “That was when it fell into place for me. I realised, the need to want the monumental was the actor in me. That’s not what Donna wants. Donna doesn’t want the drama. What she wants is to bring the Doctor home and to ground him the way she needed to ground herself. That’s how she saves him. For me that’s Russell’s brilliance, that he sees beyond the showiness.”

Catherine texted Russell after reading the script. “I was like, ‘Oh my God, we sit in a garden having a barbecue,’ and he goes, ‘Yeah, Donna gets the ending she always wanted.’ I thought, of course, that’s what she wants. She wants her best friend. And obviously,” says Catherine, smiling cheerily, “they get the best of both worlds, because there’s a TARDIS in the garden as well.”

“I really like that this is part of the garden,” says David, pointing across the lawn to where his TARDIS is stood. The Doctor’s TARDIS, by the patio windows. For now. (He took Mel to New York last week. And Rose Noble to Mars.)

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

For other posts in this set, please see the #whoBtsGiggle tag. The full episode list is [ here ]

[oogaboogasphincter]

Peace Offering

summary: An (eaten) chocolate bar causes a rift between you and Joel. Joel tries to remedy the situation. a/n: surprise! this is my first piece in months and i'm so excited 😋 i was inspired by these beautiful gifs from @ellies-enrichment! it's a silly one but i had fun writing it and i hope you have fun reading it <333 warnings: all you need to know is reader and joel are in an established relationship, they argue but they love each other nonetheless, reader is a person who menstruates | word count: 1200

“Darlin’?” He murmurs with two soft knocks of his knuckles, quiet with remorse.

“Go away,” you manage to get out through your tears, just loud enough so that he can hear the muffled inflection to put two and two together. You don't want to feel like you're actually speaking to him because you've revoked those terms until further notice.

“Sweetheart, please,” he pleads, a little more firm but still gentle. He goes to turn the knob but finds it stuck, jiggling it gently. By the tone of your voice, he knows it isn't a case of a sticky jam and that you've locked him out on purpose.

Your patience runs out, agitation being throttled with every attempt from Joel at the knob.

“I said go awayyy!!!!!”

The hallway is silent for a few moments before you hear the departing trudge of his boots. They stop at the end of the hall; not far away enough, not at all. You want to scream at him to keep going, to never come back.

All because of a chocolate bar.

You were on your period and Joel knew this. He had searched high and low on your journey to Lincoln, abandoning you outside of decrepit houses with the gruff instruction to, “Stay put.” He managed to digest your consequential irritation and remained stubborn enough to avoid explaining why you had to keep stopping, if only to keep the surprise he was concocting from you.

When he finally found one, a precious little morsel of chocolate left behind in the dark corner of a pantry closet, a watery smile formed on his tired face and so did a lump in his throat. He steeled himself and swallowed hard before he returned outside, shoving the unbeknownst treat in his pocket.

Then, night came. You were sleeping as soundly as you could on some rotting mattress on the floor while he kept watch. While Joel intermittently stole glances at you, vowing to himself that someday he would find you a real bed to sleep on, he could feel sleep nagging at him to succumb and explore dreams of better days with you. Traveling exhausted him, but going up and down all those stairs in search for a little something for you… at his age, it’s safe to say it wore him the fuck out. He needed something to keep him awake, anything…

Like an idiot, he fell asleep anyway with the damning evidence left crumpled in his lap. When he woke to your ice-cold gaze and the wrapper clenched in your tight fist, he sighed in anticipation of the roaring sea of anger that descended upon him. It took a while for him to convince you that he had originally gotten the chocolate for you and hadn't stowed it away as some secret vice for himself. Though he kept to his truth, he couldn't tell which was worse: you feeling left out of his fictitious, sugar-filled world, or robbed of something you never even got the chance to taste.

He ate your chocolate bar and right now, you don’t plan on forgiving him. Not ever.

He knows you’re pissed and rightfully so. If some old bastard ate his fucking chocolate bar, he can't even imagine — especially with the current state of the poor Earth — what hell he'd unleash on the perpetrator.

But he can’t just stand here and listen to your muffled cries anymore. He darts outside, desperate for anything to make it up to you.

He’s already checked every house in a five mile radius. The nearest convenience stores have been picked clean or the leftover chocolate has melted out of its wrappers, rotten and molding to the floor… which he’s not going to mention to you because, at this point, he’s afraid you’d eat anything out of retaliation.

He runs around, wracking his stupid, slow brain for an answer… when God intervenes for the first time in Joel's life since he met you.

He runs to the Mars Candy truck like it’s a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow and he’ll beat himself up for the rest of his miserable life if he misses it. He throws the back doors open, crossing everything he can — from his fingers down to his toes — that there’s something for you.

Maybe he’s finally lost it. It took twenty years into the apocalypse, but maybe he’s finally hit the brink of no return and gone senile.

The shelves are fully stocked, lined with unopened boxes of every flavor treat imaginable. He lets out a gruff, “Oh!” like he's just been punched in the stomach, more excited than he had ever been as a kid in a candy store.

He takes fistfuls of whatever he can, stuffing them into every pocket of his clothes. He’s still doubtful of this truck’s reality, so he’s taking everything he can while the apparition remains intact.

With his pockets crinkling and chocolate bars sticking out of his belt, he jumps down and closes the doors. He can’t risk any trespasser eyeing this haven, not in a million years. He'll come back later and try to get the truck running so he can hide it in Bill and Frank's garage.

He runs back to the house with increasing haste. Blinded by his quest to get you some sugar, he has no idea how long he's been gone and, with you on the opposite side of town, he's started to panic. Bill may have gridlocked the town with traps, but the only security Joel deems good enough to protect you are his own eyes.

Running through the open front door, he shouts your name repeatedly... unknowingly passing you in the dining room. You furrow your brow and stand, crossing your arms as you yell out to him, "In here!"

He comes jogging back, breathlessly asking, “You alright?”

You nod silently, swiping a residual tear away from your cheek with the back of your hand and a soft sniffle. Yet, your brow maintains its deep furrow of agitation as you scour Joel... until it lifts with shock. Your lips part in awe and your tongue goes dry as you eye the familiar colored wrappers catching the light. You stutter, “How did you— Where did you—?“

Joel shakes his head, handing you a replacement for the one he ate last night with a sly wink. “Don’t worry about it, baby.” His tone is way too smug for your liking, but you can't bring yourself to care as you step back and take a seat on one of the dining room chairs.

You unwrap the treat and eat it, failing to strike a balance between savoring the treat and getting it into your stomach as quickly as possible. Joel watches the faces you make, finding them oddly similar to the ones you make when he’s between your thighs…

He stifles a chuckle before asking, “So, am I forgiven?”

When you lift your eyes to meet his, he’s widened his own in mock innocence. While that trick might have gotten him out of trouble with you before, the tight coil of anger inside you has only just begun to unravel. You stand and press the empty wrapper against his chest, muttering with a sickly sweet smile, “No.”

You brush past him, knocking your shoulder against his with a little more force than necessary. At least now he has a whole truckload more of I’m sorry’s to try and win you back with.

💞gifset links💞

joel at the door x2

joel opening the truck doors

joel in disbelief

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[darkbluekies]

Sneak peaks of oneshots I'm currently working on!!

SILAS:

"Cops" (no name yet) — blurb: the cops come to take darling away

“Silas-”, SIC says from the front door. 

“‘They want what’s in the attic’, you said”, he mutters through gritted teeth before spinning around and screaming: “Then why the fuck did they leave after getting them?!”

SIC doesn’t answer. He lowers his gaze. Silas is shaking with anger. 

“I’m going to kill them”, he breathes out. 

“You can’t”, SIC says. “This is not our enemies, these are the cops.”

“They took my wife/husband! They could be Superman for all I care! I’m going to blow them up.”

SILAS X ARES (no name yet) — blurb: Silas brings darling to his childhood summer house, where his idiotic brother is

He sighs, lifts your hand and kisses it.

“Fine”, he mutters. “I'll behave.”

“No violence. Please. At all.”

He rolls his eyes. “I won't do anything, Ares-”

“You are a thirty-something year old man, you should be able to control your emotions when your little brother nags you.”

He gives you a warning gaze. “Such a smartypant you are when you're let out.”

For once, you’re not intimidated by that look. You know that Silas would never ever step foot in his parents' summer house while they’re there if you weren’t by his side. From what you know, their house on the island of Rhodes is their vacation home, their actual residence is an apartment in Athens, where Silas grew up.

You can tell by the way that his jaw is clenched that he's not looking forward to meeting his family. They had disowned him when they realized what kind of business he's doing. You wonder what they would say about Ares who's scamming poor old people out of their savings.

The hired driver offers a hand to you when getting out the boat, but Silas snarls at him in a foreign language before helping you himself. You thank the driver in english as Silas drags you away.

“You couldn't have thanked him a bit more flirtatiously?” he mutters while starting to walk. “Asked him if he wanted a kiss while you're at it?”

“Silas …”

"Steal your man" (project name) — darling has married, but Silas is not going to let this man take you from him

You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last year. You had met a man on the way home from a meeting with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. You kissed, went on dates. But you noticed that something was weird about him. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his black eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. And you finally got to know from a friend who had seen the two of you together. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again.

But he did. Somehow, he did.

DR KRY:

part 2 to this — blurb: a continuation where Nadia tries to convince their father to let her sister go

She wants nothing more than for Lydia to come back to school. Just to see Lydia anywhere else than in her bed would be a blessing. But her washed out skin, her dull eyes and weak voice makes it seem like an impossibility. Nadia would look like that too. She can see herself in her sister’s appearance.

“What day is it?” Lydia asks quietly.

“Thursday”, Nadia replies and clears her throat.

Lydia smiles sadly and sniffles. Tears run down her face.

“Gym class”, she whispers longingly. “I loved that.”

Nadia sniffles, voice giving up. “I know.”

Her smile falters. “I miss it all so much.”

Nadia’s entire body twitches with sobs. “I know. I miss you too. People ask for you a-and I don’t know what to say.”

She hasn’t told Lydia that she doesn’t hang out with their friends anymore. She can’t. Not when Lydia isn’t there. She can’t bring herself to enjoy herself as long as Lydia’s here. She hugs her sister and cries into her hair. Lydia hugs her back. They cry together, sobbing in each others arms, trying to get closer.

Lydia pulls away first, wiping her tears and her hair out of her face.

“Crying doesn’t make it better”, she mumbles and clears her throat.

Nadia stares at her with empty eyes. Lydia picks up the mug and takes a few mouthfuls.

“Can you sleep here?” she asks quietly.

JERRY

"Shot" (no name) — darling is shot and it brings back memories Jerry hates thinking about

Jerry sobs. Her body is breaking into pieces, can feel the flesh rip itself apart.

Please wake up, Y/N. Please. I can't do this.

She should have done more to protect you. She should have learned from her mistakes. She opens her left hand. A small Kuromi plush charm rests in the palm of her hand. The other hand holds onto yours tightly. The little plush stares at her with cute aggression. She wants to bury her sharp nails into its face, claw away the mocking expression.

You couldn't leave me without a little bully, could you? When you're not here to tease me, this is.

Jerry looks up at your face and feels her body goes cold once again. You look so small, so breakable. She's afraid of squeezing your hand too tightly, worried that she'll snap it in half.

HEDWIG:

"Vacatuon Huse" (yes that is the actual name it is saved as in the document) — blurb: hedeig takes darling to her vacation house, but darling has a severe case of home sickness

Hedwig breaks out in a smile, touches your face ever so carefully and kisses your lips. It’s a soft and delicate touch that only she can manage to do.

“I’m so excited”, she smiles and jumps up and down like a child. “I’ve wanted to travel with you so badly. Next time, let’s go abroad, just you and me, okay? Can’t we? Please?”

You nod. Hedwig leans against you. Your suitcases stand beside you, just as close as Hedwig wants to be with you. She’s dressed in your hoodie and sweatpants, looking like a teddy bear. Her eyes sparkle when she looks at you, looking at you as if you are the prettiest star in the world.

The train enters the platform and she takes her suitcase and gestures for you to follow her to the first class carriages. You’re sitting by a table. Hedwig has booked the entire table so that no one else will sit with you. The rest of the carriage will have people, but not the table that is exclusively yours.

Hedwig wants you to sit by the window as she takes the aisle seat. She can’t stop smiling. She leans onto your shoulder, nuzzling into you.

ALL 5 — Squid game AU

“Why are you limping?” Silas asks.

“It’s my knee”, you answer shakily. “I-I was in a car accident and it didn’t heal correctly. When i put much pressure on it, like when I run, it can give out. And, it seems like, when I’m scared, it functions even less.”

“You survived a running game.”

“That’s because you helped me. Thank you, by the way.”

It physically hurts to thank a person like him. Silas smiles and pats your back.

“I think it’s good to have someone in here that you can depend on”, he says.

“So you won’t stab me in the back to win?” you ask.

“Geez, what kind of shit have you imagined? You stereotype me without even knowing more than my name. I just saved you from getting killed. I could have pushed you, and with your weak knee, you would be one of those lying out there by now. But I didn’t, because I’m not a dickhead.”

[postmoderntongues]

Why would I be disgusted with myself? 14 year olds have brains with empathy and decision making centers so underdeveloped that they cant do life in prison or be diagnosed cluster B. Why would I be ashamed of acting like a dopamine-seeker with impaired empathy if neurologically that is literally what I was. First of all as a survivor it wasnt healthy but made it less painful to joke about the subject so carelessly because it made what happened to me feel less devastatingly serious.

I don't think it was weird and creepy in a lot of ways, I think it was a social phenomenon to cope with our adolescent phobia of SA by trying to make associations with it less serious and de-fang the word.

I genuinely misread where it mentioned an adult subject which completely changes everything but for some reason i thought this post was addressing the behavior of 9-14 year old boys. Honestly me and the other trans guys (most of whom i later found out were fellow survivors) in my teens were probably the worst about throwing that word around. It was a joke that sticking your finger in somebody's navel for more than 7 seconds was rape so kids in my junior high used to playfully poke each other in the navel, count to 7, and then laugh "i raped you!"

Of the 3 most clear cut violent forceful rapes of my life, I was cracking jokes when i found my friends again every single time. I was bragging that "Ben's cute roommate liked me so much he gave me free roofies" in the cab ride home from the party where i was drugged with GHB and assaulted in the woods on the parameter and then robbed (which i was the most mad about of all the bullshit). When Luna saved me from Paul and literally broke up a forcible rape that it was not looking like I was going to win, i joked about it the whole walk back and called him a "fag" and made fun of his short dick and then joked about it with her mom who gave me a bottle of alcohol and a giant plate of weed infused mango and I remember it as having been a funny incident. After my assault the summer after 12th grade the next day I, not wanting to admit i was potentially no longer a virgin, i told my best friend he "rape-kissed" me and broke up with the boy I was dating but in reality he forced himself on me numerous times and i continued to see him because he convinced me he was just so in love and couldnt help himself and I was being an immature prude when i found out he was doing it to my mf girlfriend and then i still remember making those jokes but like i did not around her and did not allow people to make them around her.

In oldweb raised scene kid culture it was literally just a swear word. People would use it in place of saying "i want him to f me" theyd say "i want him to r me" like i think something about the hyperbole of the violence made it feel almost safer for young teens still ashamed of the concept of sexuality to say. A lot of things that are rightfully considered unacceptable slurs were openly and unashamedly used all the time within that subculture because part of the bit you were committing to was to be performatively edgy and shocking.

And not to make myself ancient but this was pre-normalized free internet porn. This was right when you stopped needing a credit card for all porn websites. We talked like that from watching exploitation horror movies and torrenting extreme cinema, my male peers grew up trying to glimpse static-obscured shape-distorted thigh or maybe the concept of the idea of a nipple on cinemax and flipping through decade-old deteriorating sun-bleached water damaged playboys in the tree house their older brother bult before their father left their mother for his secretary. These were little boys getting off to katy Perry videos and Megan Fox's scenes in Transformers and the Lady Marmalade music video, I wasn't exposed to actual flesh and blood internet porn until i was in 10th or 11th grade and neither were most of my peers. A lot of my peers were not virgins when they were first exposed to online porn. Also, even when online pron did become popular, it was NOTHING like the minefield of paraphelia that ti is today. It was naked people. There is a good chance most of it was simulated because penetration shots didn't become a popular thing until like 09. It was a lot of softcore and kissing and cheesy music and fireplace light on a bearskin rug. The fucked up shit you find on the front page of a porn site today would have still been behind a paywall in my teens.

Also I don't perceive it as "edgy" or "cool" because Im a grown-ass woman. Im saying boys in early adolescence who are boundary testing and often react to deep discomfort with machismo and offensive humor find it edgy and cool. Being shocking is one of those early dominance/masculinity contests that little boys partake in. As an adolescent transboy being included in this kind of language felt validating and induced gender euphoria just like red road and punch-for-punch and mercy and wall-ball pelting and wrestling and watching gore and telling dead baby jokes. Im not saying it is socially acceptable or doesn't need to be corrected when observed, Im saying it is developmentally appropriate in the age group that i mistakenly thought we were discussing.

I haaaaaate how porn-rotted men's brains are. You can't even have a normal conversation with most guys these days- especially Gen Z. Almost every word you say to these guys, they'll find a way to make it sexual. Seriously. With no context.

For example- I was telling a male I know about one of my friends who managed to convince an owner of a local bakery to give her one of his popular recipes. ALL I said was, "He wouldn't give her X (most popular recipe) so her gave her the Y." Of course... "that sounds weird!! hahahahaha! He gave her the Y."

Or when you mention the word "stuck" they follow it with something about step-brothers (absolutely vile). God forbid you say the word "size" in reference to anything!

...But noooooo, obviously, porn has no effect on the brain! It totally doesn't make men sexualize every single woman they see IRL.

[diushek]

Baby Fever concept fic idea,

Liu Qingge finds a baby. Something like, he finds some demons that apparently kidnapped him and gets rid of them. The baby is clearly demonic in appearance like, small pointed ears and perhaps some scales, and, well, Liu Qingge chooses to keep him. Actually, more than wanting to keep him, it's like... He can't let him go. Then, Liu Qingge accidentally acquires a baby.

But that's not all. Obviously, Mu Qingfang is one of the first to see the baby; he checks on his health, gives some instructions, normal doctor work. What follows is that Mu Qingfang goes to a small village to buy herbs and trade some things and finds that the noble house has a baby. A pretty baby girl, apparently the daughter of a servant who died in childbirth, and who will be raised to be put to work as a slave as soon as she is of age.

... Mu Qingfang accidentally acquires a baby. The less said about what happened in that house, the better.

The babies are of similar ages. They join in playing, and Mu Qingfang comments that it is conducive for babies to grow up in environments with others of their peers. They can sit up, babble incoherently, bite cold cloths because of teething. They are pretty. Here and there, the other curious Peak Lords and some other disciples come to see the children. They are extremely adorable!!

... It starts to get worrisome when Shang Qinghua shows up, on the verge of a panic attack, with demonic twins in his arms. Mobei Jun rescued them from a corrupt sect that wanted to do something macabre with them and just brought them to him as if nothing happened!! "If Qinghua takes care of my Palace, Qinghua must take care of what's in it. These, belong to the palace now, and Qinghua must take care of them" damn it!

Mu Qingfang claims that they are healthy and strong demon babies. A little bigger than the others, they bite and fight each other brutally, but apparently, according to Mobei Jun, that implies that they are healthy and friendly babies.

A little more humorous and a little more worrying, Sha Hualing acquires a baby that Liu Mingyan does not allow her to take very far. Apparently, she found that baby wrapped in blankets, and decided to keep her because that little wild thing bit her. If she can defend herself even in her small incompetent body, Sha Hualing is going to make sure she learns to do better than that. Liu Mingyan begs please don't.

Shen Qingqiu tries to steer his husband away from all sorts of babies, totally convinced that it's some kind of weird wife plot that affects in chain. But it's affecting THE ENTIRE CANG QIONG SECT! He is not ready to have a son or daughter o whatever, he is not ready to be a parent, and he is not ready for accidentally acquire a baby!!! Thanks!!!

Luckily, for now, Luo Binghe has stayed away. There hasn't been an excuse for Luo Binghe to look at that baby Liu Qingge who started that whole circus, and apparently, that was all that was needed. According to Shang Qinghua, it could be a strange passive skill of the baby demon to allow it to grow in an environment without risk or danger. Something like attracting others. So as long as Luo Binghe does not see or directly interact with the baby, and as long as Shen Qingqiu too will stay away... everything will be fine.

(Shen Qingqiu ignores a single fight that Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge almost had. A fight that Luo Binghe interrupted before it started because of the big little eyes of the baby that he hadn't seen Liu Qingge was carrying in his arms. One glance was enough.)

Then one day, he arrives at Qing Jing after an afternoon of ranting with Shang Qinghua while the demon children are playing in the backyard with some disciples (or rather, the disciples are used as human teethers). And... there's too much silence. Lots of silence and lots of quiet.

"Binghe?" asks Shen Qingqiu loudly, entering the bamboo house. A quick "SHHHH" follows from his husband.

... Shen Qingqiu is considering leaving. Leaving or jumping off the edge of the peak. Anything would be better.

Above Luo Binghe is a clearly demonic baby girl sleeping. She is probably the oldest of all the babies so far, a little over a year old. Her skin is jade white, but there are two tiny horns on its forehead, a green demonic mark, and tiny iridescent scales on its skin and pointed ears.

She sleeps with her tiny mouth half-open; her face is round and sweet, and her little fists cling to Luo Binghe's robe as if letting go would make him run away from her.

...

Shen Qingqiu loves her immediately.

NO, HE'S NOT READY FOR PATERNITY AND NO CRAP LIKE THAT, BUT DAMN THIS WIFE PLOT IS TOO STRONG!

A couple more random babies later, Shen Qingqiu discovers that the baby Liu Qingge acquired is indeed a demonic species known to create packs from birth. Thus, despite from being weak and fragile, they survive into adulthood. They make others want to protect them, love them, care for them; they attract them to situations where other babies, children of their natural caregivers, can be in their vicinity to mingle and grow together.

Shen Qingqiu manages to make a powerful seal that seal that passive skill. By the time he has done so, even Yue Qingyuan already has two small children, a three-year-old and the tiny baby with just a few months old. Qi Qingqi has a crying child whom she spoils excessively. Mu Qingfang acquired another baby in the form of a two-year-old little girl who speaks with a lisp, even damn Tianlang-jun had acquired his own tiny little girl whom he dresses in gold and full of flowers!!!

(You can't ask Tianlang-jun to listen to the rumor that everyone in Cang Qiong is having babies and not want to see that.)

With the passive skill out, everyone relaxes as much as possible. Relocating the children in new homes and with new families... is something they won't do. Despite everything, they have become too attached. Besides, these children have spent a lot of time together, they would miss each other too much if they were separated.

("Didn't you say you didn't want a baby, Cucumber-bro?" Shang Qinghua asks, watching the adorable baby girl playing with Shen Qingqiu's fan, putting it in her mouth.

"If you keep annoying me, I'll make sure your husband knows about that plant that makes ass babies," Shen Qingqiu threatens.

"Bro no" Shang Qinghua begs. "If there is even an ounce of goodness left in your body, please don't."

And Shen Qingqiu smiles. The baby in his arms, cute and not understanding much, imitates his smile.)

[gold-onthe-inside]

hamelin

who? spencer reid (s6/7) x mayor!reader summary: spencer's the first person you think to call when the kidnapper attacks your home. content warnings: animal gore, kissing (no smut) word count: 3.5k (a lot of stuff goes down, okay) a/n: part two to diplomat, ending is open ended (i couldn't decide what happens next and this fic is long enough already)

It’s late when you get back home from city hall, briefings from that day and agendas for tomorrow tucked under your arm and fumbling for your keys and finally unlocking your front door. You moved to switch the light on, dumping your folder and keys on the top of a cabinet and closed the door. There’s a relief that comes with closing the door, the version of you that is so carefully made up for the public eye shedding away.

You took off your heels, turning around to set them on the centre table in the lobby of the mayoral residence, when you let out a strangled scream — dozens of slain rats pooled in front of the staircase, your heart beating frenetically. Your heels clattered to the floor, shaky hands moving to call the first person that came to mind as you retreat back to your car, leaving your door open. Pick up, pick up, pick up—”

“Hello?”

“Someone’s broken in, there’s-there’s rats and blood everywhere,” you gush instantly, switching the cell phone between hands and tearing your car door open and slamming it behind you before locking yourself in.

"Can you stay where you are? I'm coming now- stay there-" he said, as he stood up abruptly, grabbing his coat and his satchel. "Prentiss-" He called out. "Can you come with me? I have to check on someone."

Meanwhile, you fumble quickly through your glove compartment, finding the handgun you carried, slotting the magazine in place and cocking it before sliding back in your seat, starting to wonder if you should’ve just called the chief of police instead. As the minutes tick by, you curse yourself for what you’ve done. You can imagine the questions that’ll get asked when this is over — why was he the first person you called? Why wasn’t the chief of police involved? More importantly, if you couldn’t keep yourself safe, how were you supposed to keep your city safe?

The tap on your window scares you, raising your gun into Spencer’s face at the shotgun window, and you let out a soft breath of relief, switching the safety on and releasing the magazine before putting it all back in your glove compartment. Agent Morgan stepped out of your house, along with Agent Hotchner, and as you get out of your car, Agent Prentiss holds the door open for you, closing it behind you.

“Are you okay?” she asked and you nodded, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

“I’ll be better once we find out who did this.” You looked back at your house, trying to ignore the sympathetic look Emily was giving you. You feel numb as Aaron explains the process to you, and you might as well be a child for all the power you wield — that forensics will need to take over the scene before they can do any actual profiling, that they need to do a cognitive interview.

“I'll need to speak with my office,” you manage to get out in as mature a voice as you can, considering. It's not like you haven't gotten death and assault threats before, what female politician didn't? But something about this felt different, it felt real.

Emily's grown up in your world, in the world of appearances and stiff backs and false smiles, so she convinces Aaron to take you back to city hall, let you get a handle on things before doing an interview.

Spencer watched you the entire time from the rear mirror of the car, the way you slipped into business mode on the drive to City Hall. It was all so foreign to him, the way you soldiered through this. He remembered a time when seeing a dead pigeon had made you tremble and he’d had to hold you in your arms and tell you everything was alright. It was a far cry from what he was seeing now, and for a moment, he even felt a slight disconnect.

He felt completely out of place from your life, watching you approve clothes for a press conference, your secretary directing hair and make-up to your office, listening to a speechwriter read out your statement for you and making amendments without a single tell that any of this was getting to you. At least, not until Mandy arrived.

“So, we’ll do the first one outside City Hall,” she began immediately, right behind you as you waved away the make-up artist, standing up to pay attention to your campaign manager. “Once the residence is cleared by the police, we’ll do a second one there. We also have a response prepared for a potential recall—”

“Recall?” you demanded, turning to look at Mandy. “We’re in the middle of the campaign.”

“They’re saying that public trust is gonna drop 13% by the end of tomorrow’s news cycle,” Mandy said, widening her arms helplessly. “Perry’s changed his entire campaign to be tougher on crime,” she said, looking at her clipboard, oblivious to the anxiety that was starting to overwhelm you as your hands fidget at your side — anxiety that Spencer was all too familiar with.

“Mandy, I think- I think she needs a minute-“ he spoke up, moving a little closer to you, but keeping his words gentle, not touching you. “I don’t think we need to overload her with all of this right now-“ his gaze flickered to yours, giving you an encouraging nod.

“We’ll deal with a potential recall after tonight’s conference,” you said, finding your centre of gravity in Spencer’s eyes. “I have a statement to revise.” Your speechwriter left the sheet on your desk with a sheepish smile before walking out, your stylists packing up to leave, and Mandy half-glaring at Spencer for obstructing her job twice now before leaving. The door clicked shut and you let out a breath of relief, sagging against your desk to pick up your cue cards while Spencer stepped forward, plucking them out of your hands. “Spence,” you protested but it melted under his look.

“You haven’t taken a minute to process what happened,” Spencer said, his voice gentle but insistent.

“I don’t have the time—”

“Then make the time,” Spencer said firmly, interrupting you swiftly and you pursed your lips at him. That hadn’t changed. “Your home was broken into and your floor was covered in dead rats, and you’re gonna go on like nothing happened?”

“This isn’t about me,” you replied patiently. “This is about the city needing to feel safe—”

“The city isn’t safe, and you telling them otherwise is… It’s patronising and it’s belittling their intelligence,” Spencer retorted and it was unfair because he was right.

“I can’t believe I’m taking political advice from a STEM major,” you muttered, moving to sit behind your desk and pull out a fresh sheet of paper.

“I can’t believe I’m giving it,” he pointed out, and he stepped around to the front of your desk, placing a hand atop yours, and sitting himself directly in front of you, forcing eye contact. “What do you need?” He looked at you, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Twenty minutes to write a new speech and a lot of coffee," you said.

“I’ve got you,” he said, and disappeared around the corner, reappearing a minute later with a pot of coffee and two mugs, and he poured one for you and one for him, setting it on the desk, just like old times. It was hard to concentrate with the smell of the coffee and Spencer’s cologne right in front of you, and you took a quick sip before setting the cup down and writing your speech.

You soldiered through your speech, putting on your best face, and Spencer pulled you away from Mandy who was trying to get you to take this threat of a recall seriously, setting you up in a secure hotel room instead. “You really don’t have to do this,” you said, sitting cross-legged by the foot of the bed as Spencer checked the windows were locked.

“We need to make sure you’re safe. If you go back home, there’s a stronger likelihood that he’ll come after you this time,” Spencer said, closing the curtains over the windows. “He’ll think you aren’t taking him seriously.”

“I don’t understand how he could just break in,” you said, rubbing your face tiredly, and Spencer pulled up a chair in front of you to sit down, face to face when you look up.

“Morgan and Rossi are looking into it, we’ll get you answers,” he assured you, pressing his hand to your knee and you sighed.

“What are the chances that this is connected to the missing kids?” you asked and Spencer frowned, retracting his hand.

“The working hypothesis was that a disgruntled parent might have done it, but leaving that many rats behind—” Just the mention of the creatures seemed to cause you pain, a wince crossing your expression at the memory of it. “—doesn’t seem plausible for just any parent to pull off. Was there anyone specifically angry at you?”

You chewed your bottom lip, shaking your head. “Not enough to do this. I was expecting getting tomatoes thrown at me or something.”

Spencer frowned. “Tomatoes is oddly specific,” he noted and you shrugged.

“I had these parents corner me after a council meeting, asking me why I was more focused on county fairs than looking for their kids,” you said, looking down at your hands and picking at your thumbnail. “I write policies and draft budgets. I can’t find a mass abductor, and people expect me to put more pressure on the police force as if they’re not doing everything they can. We can’t just close off an entire district forever. And the protocol says that after the first 24 hours…”

“For a regular child abduction,” Spencer told you. “This is different. He hijacked a school bus and abducted over 30 kids. It’s unprecedented, there’s no protocol for this.”

You swallowed before you looked at him, your expression cloudy and downcast. “I’m gonna lose my job,” you whispered, tears rimming your eyes and Spencer’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away like they had ten years ago.

“Hey, no, you’re not,” he insisted softly. “Noone’s done more for this city than you have.”

“Like that matters,” you muttered, wanting to cry some more but his hands were so warm and comforting that you just closed your eyes. “All Perry has to do is promise to deliver. I’m the one who has to actually do the work, and no matter what I do, I get criticized for it.”

“Well, then, they’re idiots,” Spencer said matter-of-factly. “You don’t wanna be a mayor of a town of idiots, do you?” he asked and you snorted gently, laughing as he shifted to sit next to you, and he felt you curl into him, so he rubs your arm, following his instincts.

“Thank you for being here,” you murmured into his chest, his woollen sweater vest warm against your cheek, your fingers playing with the hem of it.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your hair, his hand on your arm stilling. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“Sap,” you muttered, making him smile a little, one you can feel as he presses his lips to your hair. “You could’ve called,” you murmured, still playing with his sweater.

“I didn’t think I was allowed to,” he replied quietly. “You were so mad that night.”

“Ten years ago,” you reminded him, pulling away to look at him. “You thought I was gonna be mad at you forever?”

Spencer looked at his hands, long spindly fingers meant to lace through yours. “I didn’t have any evidence to believe otherwise.” He looked at you with those glassy hazel eyes that made you melt. “I screwed up,” he murmured. “But I was so afraid you’d look at me like everyone else.”

“Spence,” you whispered, shifting closer, knee pressing against his thigh. “There is more to a person’s character than their reputation, or their qualifications.” You cupped his face the way you used to, his cheek slightly rougher than before, and the briefest thought flickered across your mind — does he still kiss like he used to? You swatted it away, focusing on the conversation at hand. “There is so much more to you than your PhD.”

“PhDs,” he corrected quietly, and you snorted quietly.

“You got more of them?”

“Math, engineering, chemistry.”

“Does that make you Dr. Dr. Dr. Reid?” you asked and Spencer shook his head, your hand dropping to his lap.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Well, how else will people know you’re a multi-PhD holder?” you asked, teasing.

“Shut up,” he muttered, kissing you, his hands sweeping up to cup your face, holding your jaw like it belonged to him. You were wrong. He doesn’t kiss like he used to. Not tentative or hesitant, but confident and breath-stealing, each move precise and purposeful as he took pauses in just the right places to make you needier, smiling as you chased his lips greedily. His fingers threaded into your hair, like he still remembered how to drive you insane, still holding your face close to his as he pulled away for breath, feeling yours fan over his lips. “I wanted to do that all day,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours.

“I…” You had no words, opening your eyes to look at him, your head all cloudy and dazed and Spencer wanted to laugh, hands dropping to his lap. You, who had an argument for everything, the debate captain who always won, who had a retort armed at all times, had been struck speechless.

“Need a minute?” he asked, smirking and you wanted to hit him. You definitely wanted to kiss him. His smirk dropped as he saw concern flit across your face. “What is it?” he asked, starting to panic just a little. “Did I… No, I should’ve asked first—”

You shook your head. “No, well, I mean, yes, you could’ve asked first but that’s not…” You dropped your gaze, stopping yourself from taking his hand. “You’re leaving,” you said quietly and he frowned. “Once you find this guy… I won’t see you again,” you said matter-of-factly, blinking away the sting in your eyes.

“I… I can visit,” he offered lamely and you looked up, tilting your head at him.

“You won’t,” you said quietly. “And you shouldn’t. This part of your life ended ten years ago.”

“I don’t want it to,” he whispered.

“If your team hadn’t been called in to find these kids,” you asked softly, “would you have ever thought about me again?”

“Don’t say that,” Spencer insisted, taking your hand in his. I still love you, he thought. “We’re gonna find these kids, and this guy who’s harassing you, and… And we can figure this out too.”

Wishful thinking, you thought, but his hand felt so warm in yours, his heart on his sleeve, bleeding in front of you. You can’t dash his hopes, even though a part of you thinks he’ll be better off that way. “Okay,” you said instead, and his phone buzzed, forcing him to pull it out of his pocket and step away to answer Morgan. You can hear bits and pieces from Spencer’s side.

“Yeah, she’s with me… I already asked her, she doesn’t know… I can ask, yeah. If it is him, I’d rather stay here, make sure she’s safe… If there’s the slimmest chance that he comes here instead, I’m not taking the risk, Morgan.”

You rubbed your wrist, waiting for him to return. “Do you know a Perry Williams?” he asked, showing you a picture of the man, his voice on FBI mode and it creeped you out.

“Should I?” you asked, frowning.

“He used to be a pest controller, did work all over town, and he was at the school when it burned down four years ago,” Spencer said, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Right around where your first term started.”

You shook your head, frowning, not remembering the name or the face. “No, I don’t. But one of my first acts as mayor was to award the firefighters at the school,” you said. “I… I can’t remember their names either.”

Spencer said nothing, calling someone else instead, leaving you to twiddle your thumbs. “Garcia, can you look into firefighters associated with the school fire?” he asked and you were starting to feel restless, watching him work instead. “Huh,” he said, his expression puzzled. You watched him put the phone away again and turn to you. “Apparently, the firefighter you awarded implied to the press that the reason the fire got so bad was because of Williams, saying that the pesticide chemicals made the fire worse. When Williams recovered from his burns, that firefighter became his first victim.”

“What?” you asked. “Wh-How?”

“You don’t want to know,” Spencer said and you stood up to face him.

“Don’t tell me what I want or what I can’t handle, just tell me the truth,” you retorted firmly and he let out a breath.

“He was beaten to death in his own home and then set on fire,” Spencer said, watching you process that.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

“The records also said,” Spencer continued, slowly this time, measuring your reaction, “that he tried to get a meeting with you multiple times but he was denied.”

You stared at him. “So he kidnapped an entire schoolbus of kids?” you demanded. “Are you kidding me? Who does that?”

“It was multiple stressors piling on,” he said patiently. “He was recovering from his burns for the better part of a year, he lost his job, plus the separation from his wife, add that the city’s hero blames him for the fire, and the fact that he’s going unheard… so he did a drastic thing.”

“So now what?” you asked.

“The team’s checking his place, and any other locations he might go to, and hopefully, we’ll find him before morning.”

“Great,” you muttered, sitting back on the foot of the bed, hands grasping the edge, and Spencer knelt in front of you, placing a warm hand on your knee.

“We will find him,” he assured you. “Believe it or not, we’re very good at what we do.”

“Yeah, I know,” you murmured, tucking hair behind your ear, and looking down at him. A moment passed like that, just both of you looking at each other, different in so many ways, and in so many ways, still the same. Spencer wet his lips, getting up eventually.

“You should get some sleep,” he said and you frowned.

“Just me?”

“Well, I need to be up, in case anything changes,” he said and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Or maybe you just want an excuse to watch me sleep,” you retorted, making him blush.

“What? No, I-I don’t want— I mean, I don’t—” He’s cut off by your little laugh and his attempt at a scowl came out more as a pout as he moved to sit beside you. “You’re mean,” he mumbled and you laced your fingers into his, raising it to kiss his knuckles, then pressing your interlocked hands to your chest.

You can’t sleep and he’s not supposed to, so you end up curled into his side, hand in hand, while he tells you what the last ten years have been like — about being recruited and abandoned by Gideon, meeting Derek who would become arguably his best friend (you narrowed your eyes at that, a flare of jealousy that he kisses away, reminding you of your place in his heart), and stories about cases. By 2am, he’s telling you all about Riley and how his dad had helped cover up the murder of his killer, all to protect his mom from having witnessed it, and you’re hanging onto every word, until his phone buzzes with a text.

Derek: We got him. Kids are all accounted for. Tell your girl.

“They found the kids,” Spencer said first, knowing that would bring you more relief than just telling you that they found Williams. He’s right, too, noticing how your eyes close and you take a deep, calm breath.

“Thank God,” you murmured.

“They’ve got Williams in custody too. You could probably go home in the morning,” Spencer continued, watching you nod, the tight coil in your chest unravelling.

“And you?” you asked, looking up at him, memorising his face now.

“What about me?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, noting the huff that leaves your nose.

“When do you have to leave?”

“Under normal circumstances? We make sure the PD and the DA have enough to prosecute. Sometimes they don’t have enough evidence, so we stick around for a confession, but otherwise, we leave when the jet’s available.”

You nodded stiffly, lips pressed together. “This isn’t normal circumstances, though,” Spencer continued and you glanced at him.

“It’s not?”

He looked at you with a kind of fondness that you’ve only ever associated with him. “Normal circumstances don’t include you.”

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Oh, It’s You ~

<<Prev ONE Next>>

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Ex-Sneaky Link!JJ Maybank x Kook!Reader

Adult AU, post season 4 by a year but I won’t be mentioning canon plot points bc of JJ’s s4 ending. Please point out any mistakes❤️

After months of hooking up with JJ in secret, you both began developing deep feelings for each other, but when his friends, Kie especially, learn of your relationship and plot on it’s downfall JJ leaves you reeling and confused as he enters a relationship with his best friend leaving you to wonder what you did to push him away so quickly. Unbeknownst to you however. the blonde was struggling more than he let on, wanting nothing more than to go his own path but feeling trapped with those who used to make him feel free. The only person he can think of now that makes him feel as open as he once did is….you.

Warnings: Angst, Emotional Cheating, ooc Kie(she really sucks for plot), Daddy issues mentioned, JJ’s confused asf.

~~~~

You jump as you step out of your bathroom to the sight of JJ Maybank sprawled across your bed spraying himself with your most expensive perfume.

“Jesus Jay you scared me, how did you get in here?” You ask, your voice breathless as you tug your fluffy robe over your revealing nightgown.

“Climbed,” JJ states with a smirk as though it was entirely acceptable, “you should really lock your window at night by the way.” He adds, flinging his legs off the side of your bed before hopping up to look around your room.

“Well I have never had a guy climb through my window in the middle of the night.” You state, slightly exasperated at the sight of him in your bedroom however at your words JJ’s smile only widens.

“Oh really? I’m the first to have that privilege then?” JJ laughs, looking to you over his shoulder for only a second before he’s turning to your dresser, opening the top drawer to snoop.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your tone desperate as you hadn’t even heard from the blonde in over a month let alone actually seen him.

“Needed a place to crash, first thought was you.” JJ’s eyes avoid yours while he speaks, your eyebrows furrow at his nonchalant tone as though he hadn’t called off everything between you both right when you thought it might actually move past casual hook ups.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, does Kie know you’re here?” JJ scoffs, his eyes finding yours again, irritation evident in the way he stares back at you.

“I don’t know y/n, she knows she kicked me out of her place because I didn’t want to talk about getting in contact with Rafe fuckin’ Cameron for a job, left me alone outside her house like an idiot knowing I had nowhere to go.” He shrugs, turning to inspect your drawers further before you rush up and slam the second drawer shut, not letting him peak inside at your underwear. You shove him backwards with a glare while he eyes you, smirking with his hands up in mock surrender.

“Look Jay I don’t know what’s going on and I am really sorry but you should probably stay at John B’s or something.” His eyes dim, letting his hands drop to his sides, tugging his lip between his teeth and avoiding your eyes.

“You pissed him off too didn’t you?” You sigh, walking around him with a roll of your eyes. “Fine, but you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist me for long.” You roll your eyes at his words, cheeks heating up at how desperate you must seem to him. Letting the man that led you on for months back into your life after he left you for someone so perfect. You and JJ were never official, so it’s not like you could be mad. You agreed to no strings attached and you honestly shouldn’t have been surprised when he said he didn’t want to continue what you had going. But you let yourself be convinced that with each night together getting longer, and each glance across the boneyard feeling deeper, something serious was growing. He made it official with Kie only a week after he stopped asking to see you and that’s when you realized you were just a distraction.

“Well, doesn’t seem like you have the same problem.” You feel the heat of his eyes on your back while you grab an extra blanket and pillow for him, tossing them on the ground with a huff before turning back to JJ trying to maintain a neutral expression, “You should probably leave first thing in the morning my mom doesn’t want guys over.”

“You’re an adult though?” JJ questions, trying to catch your eyes as you desperately avoid his while preparing for bed.

“An adult in my mother’s house.” You state, sliding into bed with your back to him, opting to keep your robe tightly wrapped around yourself despite the heat to keep everything more appropriate. JJ was now a taken man and even though a pang went through your chest at the thought you knew if you were Kie you would hate to learn he spent the night in another woman’s bedroom.

You listen to the way JJ shuffles around the floor trying to get comfortable, fighting the urge to turn around and invite him up just to know he would sleep well. Just knowing he was in the dim light of your dark bedroom for the first time, laying only a few feet away from you, was starting to drive you crazy, and you knew having him in your bed would not be a good idea.

No matter how long you waited for him to finally want to be.

As he lay there on the floor JJ’s eyes stayed locked on the ceiling and sleep avoided him, the thoughts of every night you two spent together rushing through his mind just like they had been for weeks on end. He wanted to tell you the truth but he couldn’t now, you would never believe him, it would sound like he was making up some quick excuse to get in your pants. He never wanted to end things, he wanted you as so much more than a hook up and his friends hated it. Kie hated it. And he didn’t know what to do, he ended things like they said he should and before he knew it Kie was kissing him and like the snap of a finger somehow they were “dating”. Part of him sometimes told him Kie planned this, planting doubt in the possibility of you and him being serious, but that just wasn’t who Kie was.

He could remember the day she found out about you and him, she was livid. She told him you were using him as a way to get over your daddy issues. That you wanted a man your dad would hate because maybe then he would pay attention to you and then you’d end up turning him into some kook and ruining who he was. That all he was to you was a conquest, to tame him until you could take him into your kook life.

But now that he was “with” Kie it seemed more like that was her plan than yours.

When the morning sun hit your eyes waking you up, you quickly noticed the blanket you lent JJ folded neatly with the pillow on top where they were before he used them. Part of you began to think it was all a dream before taking note of the unlocked window he must have used as his exit. You sighed, you knew he’d leave as you asked, he never overstepped like you thought he would before you knew him as well as you did now.

You had to try and stop your chest from feeling heavy at how easy it was for him to leave with no mark left to remind you of his presence.

Just like he left your life.

When you finally checked your phone you were shocked to see his name on your screen. A message from less than an hour ago stating simply.

Jay Thank you, and lock your window.

Catching yourself smiling at your phone you cursed, sending the message a thumbs up only, tossing your phone aside before locking your window and readying yourself for the day. Huffing as you went about your morning routine, getting ready for work and desperately trying steer your thoughts away from the rugged blonde you tried so hard to forget for so long.

~~~~

[Next Part]

I have been wanting to do a JJ story but I’m gonna keep the chapters short like this so I can keep up with them. This will be very angsty and there will be smut later on. This will be focusing on JJ and readers very confusing relationship as they both try and come to terms with how they feel about each other. But as if now JJ is dating Kie. And I love the canon Kie but I did not think I should try and write a full new Pogue for JJ to be manipulated by so this Kie is very much no like the canon Kie we know and love. John B and Sarah also later on act very much out of character but this is intentional.

-Taglist- (ask to be added)

@slut-4-gojo @cali-888

[a-writing-otter]

This is a little something I wrote for @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense ‘s Kook Ford AU. Sorry that it’s not actually Ford, but the post about what Fiddleford and Stanley were doing kind of ate at me for a bit until I blacked out and this was on my screen.

Go check out his AU art, it’s absolutely delightful. Honestly, thanks for inspiring me with this to write anything. It’s been a minute. Thanks for your killer AU, I hope I did it justice. Enjoy!

It’s well after five in the morning. Tate, Soos, and the twins are all asleep. Fiddleford is standing on one side of the kitchen, glaring at Stan who is looking through the cabinets of this old ghost of a house with something intent on his face, pointedly not looking at Fiddleford.

“I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. God knows I wouldn’t drink that swill, ha!”

Fiddleford says nothing. Stanley looks at him, then winces, and looks away.

“C’mon, Fidds, you can’t be that mad.”

“Can’t I?” Fiddleford reaches a hand up and then pushes his goggles to the top of his head to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “Let’s count it out, shall we? Y’turned on that portal after your brother and I told you not to; you endangered the lives of your niece and nephew, your supposed heir, and, apparently, my son; you faked your death; you abandoned your brother; you took my name; and you run a leg of the mafia. Am I forgetting anything else?!”

“Hey! I saved your life!”

“You almost killed everyone in this—!” Fiddleford stops at the sound of shuffling from upstairs. He clears his throat, exhales a breath, and tries again, quieter.

“You almost got everyone in this damned town killed. And for what? This ain’t Casablanca.”

Stan turns sharp eyes on him.

“Don’t,” he says pointedly at him. “I didn’t—“ Stan fists a hand and thumps it against the wall beside the cabinet he’s still searching through, though not nearly loud enough to let out the frustration Fiddleford can see building up in him.

“You’re right,” Stan says, measured. “You are also… the only one that can fix this. I tried. I tried real hard, Fidds. There ain’t nothing I can do. No money, no power…”

“That’s why you brought me back. To clean up your mess,” Fiddleford sneers.

“No. To save Ford.”

Fiddleford goes quiet and his mouth draws into a line.

“You said he went crazy after I left,” Fiddleford says slowly. “That he— With the memory gun and—“

Stan looks up the stairs and finally gives up his pursuit and comes in close to Fiddleford. His words are quiet and low.

“Ford… After you went through, he got a little skrewy. He got… agitated and scared. He was convinced that Bill was comin’ after him after everything with the portal.”

“Yes, well, if I do remember, my last words were ‘oh god, Bill’ before I disappeared into another dimension.”

“Yeah. Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You’re going to blame me? You’re seriously going to blame me? Who in the hell’s fault was it that that portal even turned on?”

Stan winces and then rubs a hand over his face.

“I know, I know, I know. It’s mine. It’s all my fault. Everything in this godforsaken—!”

Stan reels it back and forces another breath out his nose. All things considered, Fiddleford is rather impressed how well Stanley is handling his temper. He was never the kind of lash out, but certainly the kind of get loud. Fiddleford shakes his head, walks away from Stan, and goes over to the cabinet just above the fridge. The robotic wrist extends out to grab the extra few inches he needs to open the cabinet. From there, he can open the door and then pull out a crystal clear mason jar. Pulling it down, he struggles with it for a second. Stan holds a hand out and Fiddleford meets his eyes fiercely before something in his robotic wrist clicks and the seal pops. He keeps looking at Stan as he takes a swig.

“Does that taste good?” Stan asks, disbelieving. Fiddleford is trying not to gag.

“Like vinegar. Better than nothing though.” After a second, he holds it out towards Stan who shakes his head. “Y’always were a wuss, city boy.”

Stan’s lips twitch slightly.

“Not all of us were kitted out to be hicks.”

They lapse into silence again and Fiddleford leans into the counter as he continues to nurse the jar of moonshine like it’s some kind of fine wine—after the swill he’s had these thirty years, he’s happy to have this, vinegar or not.

“What happened next?” Fiddleford finally asks, looking at Stanley. “What happened to Ford, why does my son call you my name, why are you a mob boss?”

Stan takes a deep breath in.

“That’s where it gets a little… eh, complicated. Ford and I got into an argument about him refusing to boot the portal back up. I told him if he was going to leave his best friend to die, he should consider me dead too. And I, uh,” Stan pauses for a second, expression haunted, “I don’t think I’m never gonna regret that. I got in the car, I left. Decided to tell your wife and kid something, didn’t know what. It, uh, went… Well, I—“

He looks at Fiddleford and holds his hands out like an offering, expression sheepish.

“I don’t know, Fidds, it happened so fast. I was— I was convinced that you wouldn’t want them to be left alone and I— I mean they missed you, so—“

“Did you wipe their memories to make them think you were me?!” He hisses out. Fiddleford doesn’t really believe a word of what he himself is saying, but it gets louder and almost desperate when Stan nods his head.

“You stole my identity?!”

“You were gone! Or dead! I didn’t know! I didn’t know how long it’d take to get you back! I just thought, well, you know… I’d look after them, make sure they were okay, and then when we got you back, everything would be great!”

“Stanley Pines, you’re insane!”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Apparently, it’s a family trait.”

Stan is running his hands through his hair over and over again to the point it’s sticking up in every direction. It takes more effort than Fiddleford cares to admit not to reach out and smooth it out.

…he almost misses the mullet.

Fiddleford shakes his head—no, no, he doesn’t. There’s nothing about this bastard that he misses.

“So, what? You convinced my family that you were me and then just left Stanford?”

“Well, no. I, uh, went back to Gravity Falls, figured that he’d had some time to think, so we’d team up, figure out what to do, all that good stuff. Your family managed that long without you, figured a little longer would be—” A pause. “Except he wasn’t himself anymore when I came back. I—“

Stanley slumps down into the chair, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“I didn’t know what happened. I came back and he started howlin’ about ghosts. His head was bleeding and there was metal in there and he had—“ Fiddleford sees Stanley shudder from head to toe. “Fidds, he had no idea who I was. I tried to jog his memory, you know, I’m his brother? Twin? Stanley? And then he started wailin’ about his dead brother. Shook me off to crawl over to a phone that wasn’t even plugged into the wall, talkin’ to no one, wouldn’t even look at me. I— I was a coward, Fidds. I couldn’t stay, didn’t know what to do for him, so I just— I left. I faked the death of Stanley Pines he thought was real and put the whole thing behind me.

“Only problem is that my life as ‘Fiddleford McGucket’ wasn’t exactly charmed. Couldn’t wipe Em’s mind of you bein’ gone for four years and she was real pissed. Then, of course, I couldn’t work a computer for the life of me. So, uh, Em left me, took Tate, and… and it was just me. Alone. In Palo Alto. No brother, no…” he hesitates for a second before pushing on, “you, no your family to look after. Everything I’d done, I’d kind of come up empty on.

“So, I, uh, did what I was good at. Clawing my way out of bad situations. I’m real good at lying, you know. Pretty damn good. And you had some real amazing equipment still at your house. Some tongue-in-cheek lies, some bravado, some promises I threatened others to keep, and I—“

“You used my technology to bribe your way into the mob?” Fiddleford groans. “You couldn’t even replicate my stuff!”

“You’re right! Tech? Computers? Screw that! But I’m great at making connections with people who know people. And, uh, when the connections ran out, I made other connections. And, eventually, with enough time and connections and power, I—“

“Became the head of the mob?”

“I mean, that’s a bit of an over-exaggeration, but, eh, more or less. Was able to keep the house, keep myself afloat, even made sure I could be ‘round Tate’s life.”

“You exposed my son to the mob?!” Fiddleford takes a step forward that Stan reels back from as much as he can while seated.

“I kept him safe! Look, he and Em were always safe, I made sure of that!”

“Okay. Great. Wonderful.” Fiddleford takes another two gulps of moonshine and, again, tries not to gag. “You put my family at risk, you abandoned my best friend. How the hell did you end up back here?”

It gets quiet again and Stan goes from looking like that cocky bastard who believes his own lies to that scared kid who got caught telling a lie.

“It was Tate,” he starts. “He was stayin’ with me, sleepin’ real tight in bed before he came in to get me. It was nightmares for a bit, nothing out of the ordinary for a ten year-old. But they kept happening over and over and— And finally, I ask him to tell his old man what’s eating him. …and he says there’s been something coming to him in his dreams. That a man who looks like me with yellow eyes and so many teeth keeps talking to him, trying to tell him he needs to come to Gravity Falls. I— I don’t know. I tried to convince myself it was a coincidence, that he’d seen something on TV. You know kids and their imaginations, right?”

Fiddleford just stares at Stan.

“But he was shoutin’ one night, went to go check in on him and— And he said my name, clear as day. Said Ford’s name too and I— knew I couldn’t stay away.”

Stan folds his arms over his chest. Fiddleford’s eyes are drawn to the way that the tattoos bulge slightly when he does. He’s not the starved vagabond he once knew. All things considered, he looks healthy. Well, healthier.

“Came up here, came to the house. I expected to find Ford, but… he wasn’t ‘round. Looked high and low for him ‘til the dame at the diner told me about the ‘Crazy Kook Ford’.”

“…Crazy Kook Ford?” Fiddleford presses, jaw dropping. “You left your brother to— to be a crazy old townie?”

“Not like I didn’t try to bring him inside! Geez, I’ve had better luck taming seagulls and those things are nasty. But, no. No matter how much reasonin’, how much cajolin’, I couldn’t get him to talk to me or recognize me. He’ll talk anyone’s ear off if given the time, but me? He avoids me like the plague.”

Then Stan shrugs.

“Couldn’t leave him again, though. Came up here, kept up my work long-distance and brought some of it here. Small towns like Gravity Falls are happy to take in someone who can keep it afloat and prosperous. And I knew that, if anyone was going to get Ford back to one-hundo, it was going to be you. So I tried to rebuild the damned portal. It, uh, took longer than I would have liked.”

Thirty years is a helluva long time, Fiddleford has to admit.

“What do you want me to do?” Fiddleford finally asks. “I mean, you got me here, sure, but I don’t know damn about neuroscience and memory. Well, other than how to scramble it. That’s all frequencies and brainwaves and hypnotism. I can’t put memories back, that’s a lot more complicated.”

“You’re not even gonna try?” Stan demands and Fiddleford throws his hands up.

“I didn’t— Christ Jesus, Stanley, I didn’t say that! Just— This ain’t gonna be easy. This is gonna take time. Might be years.”

“…we don’t have that kind of time.”

Fiddleford snorts.

“Look, I know you’re not keen on Stanford spending his golden years as a drooling, crazy, old man, but—“

“He’s got Bill in his head.”

Fiddleford stops at that. Blinks. Shakes his head a little.

“Come again?”

“I mean that Bill Cipher, that rat bastard is still inside of Ford’s head. He takes him over in spurts, does all kind of crazy shit. I think that when Ford put that metal plate in and did whatever to his head to wipe the memories, he ended up trapping Bill in there.”

“We might not have a choice than to keep him like that,” Fiddleford says, slowly. “Look, I know, I know, that’s not ideal, but Bill—“

“Is using him to create a tear in the universe.”

Ah.

Right.

Of course.

Because Fiddleford couldn’t escape one point of insanity without landing in another.

He sets the moonshine down and puts his head into his hands.

“So you’re telling me, Lee, that Bill Cipher is inside of your brother’s mind and he’s taking him over to try and take over the universe again.”

He hears Stan suck air from between his teeth.

“That’s about it.”

Silence settles in the room and Fiddleford leans his head back into one of the cabinets. He’d spent years trying to escape Bill Cipher and the monsters that he kept company with. All things considered, he wishes he’d known about Bill being trapped on this plane. …beggars can’t be choosers, though, right?

“Give me two hours to sleep, a pot of coffee, and time alone in the basement. Don’t know where to start, but I’ll figure it out.”

A smile cracks across Stan’s face and it does something to Fiddleford’s chest that makes him have to grit his teeth and look away. He seizes up when Stan grabs his shoulders before immediately shaking him off.

“You’re amazing, Fidds, I can’t thank—“

“Don’t,” Fiddleford says firmly. “This don’t mean nothing. I’m not doing this for you. After this is figured out, frankly, I don’t want to see you again. I want my life back, I want my name back, and then I don’t want to breathe the same air as you ever again, y’get me?”

He’s seen kicked puppies look less pathetic. Once upon a time, he’d have raced to soothe the burn, but there’s thirty years of rage that’s only growing hotter as they stand there in the kitchen.

Stan balls his hands into fists, pulls them back down his side and looks away.

“Right. You got it, McGucket. I’ll, uh, let you to it.”

Fiddleford doesn’t spare another look to Stanley as he pushes past him and towards the stairs, remembering where Stanford’s old room used to be. He passes by a mirror and winces at his own reflection. Lifting a hand to his head, he pulls the goggles back on and winces at the old, weathered man staring back at him. He hasn’t had a proper look at himself in god knows how long. The wrinkles are plenty, his hair is white save the few strands of blond that try to peek through. It’s a miracle, he supposes, that he still has hair. He’s tired and he looks it.

“No rest for the wicked,” Fiddleford sighs before ducking into the bedroom to try and catch some shut-eye before attempting to fix yet another of the Pines’ messes.

[lebirbybitch]

This is my Hunter OC Echo-53, but more commonly known as "Ehkaris"

She's a Void Hunter who works for Spider. She was an AI that was basically tortured by Clovis Bray, dipped as soon as she could, crash-landed on the Shore. Survived by herself for a while, found Spider when he was abandoned, and basically stuck herself by his side and hasn't left since. Died saving his life 20 years after they met, and then got ressurected by the Ghost that'd been following her around for the past year.

Due to her past of being Reset, she always uploaded her memories into a program she could reinsert in herself to gain them back. Basically a "if I die" contingency plan. Spider was aware of it, pretty much jacked it in her brain as soon as possible, so the only amnesia she has is for the day she died!

She's basically Spider's right hand woman, considered an honorary Eliksni by those of House Spider, and she's very much HIS guardian. (For those Closest Allies of Spider, the open secret that she's basically his wife is something that goes unsaid under threat of death)

Doesn't really have an interest in the Tower, trades shit with Drifter when needed, and mostly acts strange and terrifying with her black House Spider cloak and Eliksni Mask while she perches behind The Spider's shoulder upon his throne.

My silly headcanons for Destiny are mostly Eliksni/Exo related:

One: Exo are the only ones that can speak Eliksni bc they don't have "real" vocal cords so its rather easy to mimic the speech, the BIGGEST problem is actually sometimes the electrical effect of their voice can fuck up the sound of certain words. Ehkaris speaks almost exclusively Eliksni nowadays, and she has the slightest accent when she's communicating in English w/ Drifter

Two: Eliksni "kiss" via forehead bumps. It's my favorite kind of nontraditional kiss. No worries if you're an Exo when the way to make out with your beloved is pressing your foreheads together for long periods of time

Three: Eliksni find Exos to be attractive due to their metal plating. It's very similar to their own carapace, so to see a being who's got body shapes similar to theirs except SHINY? Crab aliens go Awooga at robot people. (POV you're a random Eliksni watching Spider preen like a peacock bc he convinced Echo-53/Ehkaris to wear a dress and is happily showing off his Hot Wife)

Four: Eliksni purr. Exos purr. This is non negotiable

Anyways I don't have a thing for her armor bc i haven't played the game in ages and I don't have access to the game at all. Which is UPSETTING BECAUSE SPIDER WAS BACK AT SOME POINT AND I WANT MY GIRL TO SEE HER HUSBAND-

Anywaysssss. I need more friends to talk about destiny ideas with. If Morgana needs a random terrifying neutral Hunter to be friends with, I should Probably socialize Echo-53 outside of Spider's gang more and will gladly Ramble or Roleplay with you for funsies. please im so lonely/silly

It's been awhile, I miss you guys and all your Destiny blorbos and head canons. Reblog and tell me about your OC, tell me your favorite head canons, show me any art you're working on! I want to see all of it even if you think it's cringe. Actually ESPECIALLY if you think it's cringe!

I'm reworking my OC and her lore. I want to change things about Morgana's later story but most of all, I want to pick her story back up and write it again. I've been busy writing fanfic with my favorite author and we both think it's long past time to tell our stories again!

One of my favorite head canons?

Guardians of different subclasses being hot or cold based on their subclass. Void and Stasis being fucking COLD. Arc but especially Solar being fucking hot.

Void bois snuggling up to their Solar partners in winter.

Solar gals giving their stasis partners the puppy dog face to get them to cool then down in summer.

[uselessgaywhovian]

so how's everyone else's saturday night going

[starry-bi-sky]

don't you want to be a cult leader? - danyal al ghul au

this is mostly a joke post but i thought it was funny and had to share so--

his first mistake was, obviously, inheriting his father's inability to see an injustice and stand still. -- actually, danyal's first mistake was his lair being so big. a mountainous island with a large temple in the center resembling his old home in Nanda Parbat? With sprawling foliage and rivers and streams and waterfalls galore? What was he going to do with all that space? Let it go to waste? He had plants there! Native trees of the ghost zone growing from the soil! He couldn't let it all be left unchecked!

So naturally after helping a fellow teenage assassin ghost -- who he later learns is named Akihiko, -- from Walker of all people, he sent them over to hang low at his lair until it was safe enough for them to wander around the Zone. Walker couldn't get through Danyal's astrofield if his life depended on it, and trust him -- he's tried. Danny was clearing out debris from his stupid transport vans for weeks.

Honestly it wasn't so bad, he and Aki really quickly became fast friends and Danny loves having a sparring partner close to his level again -- he hasn't had this much fun fighting since he left the League. Aki was very dedicated and levelheaded, the both of them clicked really well because of it.

Nonono, the real trouble began after Danyal met some long-passed League members and allowed them to come join his island as well. Apparently they had made a few enemies of the zone, and maybe Danyal still felt some loyalty to the League. He couldn't just let them be left to rot. Their zealotry could be overlooked so long as they kept it contained and helped him take care of his island.

And it.. snowballs from there? He meets a teen squire aptly calling himself Ambroise -- whether that was his living name or not is yet to be seen -- who died during feudal france, who is just about as dramatic and passionate as every french stereotype makes them out to be. He calls Danyal "my moon and great muse" -- which is both flattering and little uncomfortable, but Danyal's grown up in the League as the Grandson of the Demon Head, he is used to mild worship. he passes it off as nothing more, nothing less. -- and while his energy is overwhelming on the worst of days, he helps Danny draw out of his shell more in ways that Sam and Tucker still struggle with.

Him and Aki butt heads a lot, but the two seem to hold the other in at least some positive regard, so Danny doesn't worry too much about them fighting while he's gone. It only becomes a mild issue when Aki also begins calling Danny "my moon". It's a little sweet, so Danyal brushes it off.

Then he takes in a troupe of ghosts some time after he defeats Pariah Dark and they begin calling him "great one" just as the yetis do in the far frozen. This is where he meets the twins -- a pair of sibling ghosts who call themselves Trixie and Missy (short for Trick and Mislead) -- who aren't quite as passionate as Ambroise but more energetic than Aki. Eventually they also start calling Danyal "my moon" and attach themselves to his hip, even within the living. They like to hide in his shadow and cause trouble for the rest of the students. He makes sure they don't hurt anyone.

He's pretty sure Aki is jealous, same with Ambroise, but he can't be too certain other than the fact that they become much more lingering (re: clingy) whenever he visits the island.. Something he's trying to do much more often these days due to the increasing amount of people living there now. Since when did he become so popular?

Then there's Pēnelópeia from the Greater Athens, who ran away from home and joined his Island after he ran into her while she was being chased by Skulker -- and he's pretty sure the reason was because of her chimeric appearance. Her strange eyes and mismatched wings and lion's tail and talons. She assimilates into his friend group very easily, she gets along well with Ambroise and Trixie and Danny usually finds the three of them climbing the trees to pluck the most fruit from the top. They can fly and he knows it, but they prefer to climb.

Then finally there's silent poet Akkara who comes from ancient mesopotamia, who gets along most with Aki -- which is no surprise there considering their similar personality dispositions. he watches Aki and Danyal fight each other and leaves comments on this or that that he notices. He writes Danyal poems on clay tablets and leaves them by his room.

They're one big mismatched group of outcasts, and Danny's got the other ghosts on his island to tend to, because they're living on his island and he wants to be hospitable even if he struggles with that. But he spends the most of his time with them.

Sam and Tucker are making fun of him. Tucker jokingly tells him 'careful Danny, at this rate you're gonna start a cult'. Danny really wishes he had taken that joke more seriously.

He just. keeps. collecting people. Wayward souls lost in the zone, looking for shelter or refuge from something or other -- whether that be another hostile ghost, or a past afterlife, or just a purpose. Danyal finds them, he takes them in, offers them a place on his island until they are ready to leave. Many seldom do. He's not complaining -- he has the space, and it feels like it's only ever growing.

His close friends, his "inner circle" as he's heard the others call them, keep insistently calling him "my moon". He starts calling them his stars, because then it only feels fair. They're his stars, this is his constellation. It becomes a thing; little star halos begin forming behind their heads, picking them out from the rest. He loves them so much, it's hard to place. Sam and Tucker are also his stars, but they reside in the living realm, they're his tie to Life. Meanwhile, his friends here know what it's like to be dead, and sometimes its nice to relate.

Those living on his island keep calling him "Great One" and he's beginning to notice zealotry in their care for his island. He really, deeply appreciates it. His close friends gain nicknames -- as his stars, it's only natural for him to pick them out from the cluster in the skies. Akihiko, his Sirius and bright star. Trix and Missy, Castor and Pollux, the twins and troublemakers. Ambroise, his zealous Antares and close friend. Penelopeia, chimeric and loyal Vega. And Akkara, his Arcturus and strength.

It's ridiculous how long it takes for him to notice; he is, of course, a deadly trained assassin. He is meant to be observant -- and normally he is! But somehow this becomes a blind spot. One that becomes too big to be dealt with by the time he realizes it.

He should've noticed when Aki, his Sirius, stood beside him one day while Danyal looked over his island and saw the sprawling spirits carrying on about their afterlife and bowing to him as they saw him, and said: "I looked down into the depths when I met you; I couldn't measure it." They aren't one for flowing prose, it took him so off guard he was silent for over a minute before he finally spoke.

Danyal should've recognized devotion for what it is, and yet he didn't. He should've recognized it when Antares began spouting praises about him, crowing about his radiance and resplendence to the heavens. He just brushed it off as Ambroise being Ambroise. He should've recognized it when Trix and Missy nearly broke Dash's leg after he knocked Danyal's books out of his hands, he excused it as them being protective. Of them coming from times where such violence may have been customary -- after all, that's what he used to be like. What he was still like, sometimes, when his emotions nearly got the better of him.

He should've noticed it when the people living on his island followed his word like gospel, looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. When his friends gifted him a shawl with the moon phases delicately embroidered into it, with silver, shimmering thread and moving stars lovingly stitched into it. Their constellations seen clear as day in the dark fabric. When he found small shrines dedicated to him -- but they lacked any image of him beyond stones carved to look like moons, so he ignored it. When the religious imagery began popping up.

He really, really should've noticed it when a bunch of cultists accidentally summoned Antares, and Antares had turned to him when he arrived and called them heretics. But he was so centered on the fact that they had kidnapped one of his stars, that he hadn't paid much attention to what Ambroise had said.

Sages say that faith is blind, they should also say faith in you is even blinder.

It really only hits him one afternoon while he's sitting in Sam's room studying with Tucker, Missy and Trixie lounging at his feet, Aki sat on his right, Penelopeia braiding his hair, Ambroise draped against him, and Akkara lurking over him. Its one of the rare few times they're all in one room together.

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He looks up from his textbook. "Oh Ancients," he says in no amounting shock. Everyone looks up to him.

"I've become my grandfather."

[gingermintpepper]

I saw it in your tag game post that you're also fond of the Apollo-Heracles conflict 👀 for a myth that appears in only a couple of sources, it sure has a lot of presence in the vase paintings (no seriously, everytime I think I've seen the last of it, I find ten more)

SO do you have any favorites among the paintings that represent this story??

OMG OMG THIS ASK IS A GIFT. IT IS A GIFT THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR LETTING ME TALK ABOUT THIS

I also think it's extremely interesting that it's a story so popularly portrayed by vase paintings and in such a variety of ways!! It's certainly one of the stories that gets left out of written compilation of Heracles' legend a bit (which is a shame, I think it's a fantastic story) but Apollo had a very peculiar relationship with Heracles in general that I just kind of find amazing (and very, very funny).

Apollo is not a god with any legitimate grudge against Heracles, but he does argue with the mortal a bit like he argues with his favourite brothers 😂Part of why I love the story of Apollo and Heracles fighting over the tripod so much is that it is such a little brother thing for Heracles to be upset with the proclamation his elder brother has given him and so, he throws a great fit, taking up the chair and declaring that he'll just give himself a better prophecy! And Apollo, instead of being a marginally professional big brother, decides to fight him for it until their father has to break up their cat-fight. Like was that not just the plot of the Homeric Hymn to Hermes? Is this not exactly how Apollo treated Hermes when he was a child and now those two are inseparable? 💀

Because of this, my favourite vase paintings tend to be the ones that highlight the personal squabbling between Apollo and Heracles the most. There are some very elaborate ones that have the full host of them - Athena, Heracles, Apollo, Artemis, usually a dog and a doe, I've even seen a couple that had birds and plants etched on them, but the simplest ones that show Heracles about to bonk Apollo with his club out of frustration or depict Heracles nyooming away from Apollo while Apollo (presumably) yells curses about how he's going to fling Heracles head first into Tartarus for daring to take his things? Yeah, those are the premium big brother/little brother things I'm looking for.

(Photo. Marie-Lan Ngyuen)

(Photo. Museo Claudio Faina)

Also the one in the Theoi.com archives is a real classic - perfect energy.

[4lexnilsen]

“poppy wrong?   and you expect me to take you seriously?   i thought we’d left the whole let’s make fun of this person’s name thing in middle school,  but apparently some of us stay bullies forever.”   shaking his head and grimacing in disgust,  alex feels utterly repulsed by helena’s behavior,  even more so knowing what his best friend had been through.   how can it be that the same person who keeps talking about kindness stoops so low?   “or,  here’s a wild concept,  she doesn’t actually hate you.   this whole problem is one-sided,  and it’s a you problem,  helena.   poppy doesn’t call you names or make fun of you,  and here you are insulting her for no reason at all.   what gives you the right to judge her like this?   you barely know her.”   he catches a glimpse of her glassy eyes,  but instead of making him want to sympathize with her,  all it does is…   bring in a fresh wave of annoyance to the fire already burning inside his chest.   his jaw set,  temples throbbing.   “you’re giving me a migraine with these conspiracy theories.”   fucking brat.   spoiled little bitch.   

“yeah,  fuck me.   hey,  maybe that’s your problem.   you just need a good —”   fucking,  but what’s left of his stoic nature refuses to say it out loud.   the word hanging in the air between them,  anyway,   “and harry won’t deliver so you’re taking the frustrations out on poppy.   is there a psychological term for that,  too?”   since she loves to throw this whole psychological bullshit in his face.   “that’s another difference.   i don’t give two shits about what my father thinks of me,  not all of us are bound to our daddies by their money.   is there a punishment for bad words at your house?   are you not going to spend the winter break in the maldives if you drop one more bad word?”   something snaps inside of him and he can’t remember the last time that happened,  must have been years and years ago.   maybe when his mother died and he told the nurse who came to console him to fuck off.   hadn’t happened once since then…   well,  up until now.

“i’m a —   a what?   a narcissist?   how am i a narcissist?   do you even know what that means?   and i’ve never once shat on you,  helena.   i don’t know what scenarios you’re coming up with in your head,  but they’re crazy.”   the biggest asshole.   it makes him want to rage because he’s been nothing but kind to her,  always present,  always supportive.   hell,  he even tried to befriend that aggressive dog of hers.   “WHAT LIES?!   i’ve never lied to you!   i’ve never lied to sarah either.   my head’s about to explode.   pull over.   pull over,  i’m getting out.   i’m not listening to more.   this is like —   i’ve never done drugs but THIS is something that puts LSD and acid to shame.   what a trip.”   she’s certifiably insane,  he’s convinced.   she’s the one belittling other women,  calling poppy an idiot and making fun of her name,  accusing him of cheating,  saying he’s a bad person for having other friends…   she deserves her own TLC show at this point.

“a sad broken little boy.   yeah,  right…   whatever makes you feel better,  i guess.”   he just huffs and rolls his eyes,  squeezing her phone between the seat and his backside,  his other hand grabbing the hand brake.   not yet pulling,  but threatening to do so if she doesn’t stop the car.   “go ahead,  say it.   tell me how growing up motherless made me heartless because i refuse to play along with whatever script you’ve written for us in your head.”   teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek,  chewing on the tender skin there until there’s blood on his tongue to keep himself from saying more.   quenching the sudden urge to just slap her across the mouth for it.   but that’s exactly what she wants,  isn’t it?   she wants to provoke him,  wants him to be the bad guy and do something terrible.   little miss perfect needs some sort of a thrill in her life.   “you’re fucking insane…”   he breathes,  laughing hysterically at the silly allegation.   her name should be spelled differently —   HELL-ena.   she’s a demon…   

“for the last time,  honey,  because i don’t think you understand what i’ve been trying to say.   there’s nothing wrong with sharing a bed with your friend.   maybe you’re one of those women who can’t keep their hands to themselves,  but poppy is like a sister to me.   i would never let her sleep in the car or go somewhere else when we’re supposed to be spending time together,  and there’s this king-sized bed in the room.   we’d also shared a tent before,  guess what happened?   absolutely nothing because we’re two adults who respect each other’s boundaries.   insane,  i know.”   he refuses to let got of the steering wheel even as she pinches his thigh so hard that he’s crying out,  smacking her wrist with his other hand and telling her to fuck off and pull over.   “you don’t know shit about driving!   i want to get out.   i’m getting out.   i said stop the fucking car or i’m gonna stop it!   you’ve lost your fucking mind.   i’m calling 9-1-1.   or animal control.   whoever’s willing to take you.”

“really? because you got such a fantastic knack for being the poppy WRONG defense team.” helena yells, brows furrowing in disbelief. “of course she wouldn’t lay a hand on me… she’s too scared, she’s the type who can say a bunch of things but can’t say it to someone’s face. she’d be an idiot to say it to my face.” doe eyes roll at the royal ignorance he’s spewing. he can read a million books, but he’s obviously still just a man with a dumb man brain at the end of the day. obviously no book could ever give him the knowledge on what it means to be a real one. eyes stinging with livid tears she’s unable to control, street lamps blurry from hurtful tears clouding her vision until she blinks them away at the realization he’s been making fun of her.

“fuck you.” gripping the steering wheel tighter, digging her claws into the leather. sharp manicure would love to claw his face. when she starts cursing, he shouldn’t be making fun of her, he should be shutting the hell up and realize he’s pushed her to her dangerous limit. that’s his mistake. “what would your daddy think about it? not very amish and christian of you.” poking fun at him, see how he likes it. since that’s what ohio is about, right? amish cultish weirdos and bible thumpers. they worship god in her household too, but not in an abusive way. it’s not like her to stoop to other asshole’s level, but this time… this time is an exception. he’s pushed her to the absolute deep end to be equally as ugly and nasty. when she were younger— she used to sit and stay quiet when people hurt her feelings, but that’s over with and she’s finally growing into her person. “you.” who’s been treating her like shit. “you’re a liar. and a narcissist. and not a true friend, if you have to defend one and shit on the other. and pretend this is ALL in my head. i’ll show you the proof and then you’re going to look like the biggest asshole that YOU ARE once i get it.” he wants to call her crazy, but she’s just smart. and if he thinks she won’t make it a mission to trick poppy to get the solid proof, even if it’s been right in front of him, he’s so wrong about her. “‘oh, you’re crazy helena for saying the truth and calling me out’. that’s such a typical asshole male response, calling women crazy when we see through your lies and because we’re not hollow shells. but we’re just ‘crazy’ because we have emotions and we’re not heartless creatures like you men so we have to be BELITTLED for it by being called “crazy”. THAT’s what is crazy. you’re just a sad broken little boy.” that’s what he is, like most men… something miserable just lives inside of him. “if you have back problems, then you should stop screwing your friend, i’m sure that doesn’t help matters.” she sasses off instead of addressing any part of that sentence, because it’s all garbage anyway. “it’s disrespectful and gross, sleeping with another woman while you have another at home. i wouldn’t shared the bed with you, i would have just slept in the car or went somewhere else.” the only way it’d be acceptable, is if both parties had terrible romantic partners. that’d be the only exception. but clearly, sarah isn’t abusive or anything since alex continues to stay with her and speak highly of her. “what do you mean,” asking confused, “I’M DRIVING?? are you DENSE? that’s what you said to do. so that is what i’m DOING, DUH.” going to sarah’s location like he said!? “what’s the problem?! who’s the control freak now??” how hilarious of him to freak OUT, just as she predicted. “give me the phone back! i REALLY can’t miss the cars on the road if you’re hand is on the steering wheel! LET GO OF IT!” grabbing his thigh, pinching the hell out of it to make him let go of the steering wheel as they quickly get back up on the interstate and he’s causing her car to swerve in and out of her lane too much. “i know how to drive! fuck off!”

[ratatatastic]

lmaoooo maffhew wanting the knot immediately and having to wait for sasha to catch up with that is so deeply funny like. this omega is not subtle and you’re not a stupid alpha babe! can only imagine what benny has to say to maffhew about it once he catches on and stops banging his head against a wall

idiots to lovers is always great but especially when its two people who would be hitched with 10 kids by now if they stopped being dumb for a single second like its that easy and yet...

to me they very much fall around the same time (infatuation at first scent if you will) just that sasha takes some time to get there not because he's dumb (okay he's a little dumb) but in the sense that its like "this person is very interested in me, i can see and recognise that but theres so much cognitive dissonance in my brain right now between knowing that intrinsically and finding that hard to believe so i unintentionally play dumb because obviously i'm reading too much into things it cant be me they're interested in haha that'd crazy but they're being awfully touchy and flirty with me wow"

but also it takes two to tango and we have to acknowledge that and this is when i would love to bring up the ways in which this man decides is the best way to go about that because he is a catholic school girlie... there's so much hilarity to be had here especially because his flirting is very uh how you say... a little ass backwards if you will especially considering dynamics

"I make it a point to keep the door closed when we're alone in a room together! That's basically a clear invitation that I'm down to fuck!!! Im basically asking to be ragdolled on his knot!!!"

and Benny just pinches the bridge of his nose like "I don't know how to explain to you in a way you'll understand that not everyone went to Catholic school."

But saying that Sasha does side-eye the door knob heavily when Maffhew goes over to close it the first time and he starts sweating like he just got dragged into a game of 7 Minutes in Heaven he did not sign up for and he's 13 again and oh god he got paired with a really cute girl, and he hasn't even had his first real kiss yet and-

And then absolutely nothing happens because Maffhew is just waiting with a polite expectant smile (because his work here is done, he did the heavy lifting know it's Sasha's turn) and this is when Sasha's dynamic classes training kicks in and he basically scolds himself for even assuming in the first place because this is clearly a show of trust (correct) not an invitation for extra circular activities (incorrect buzzer noise) and it basically becomes "This Omega really trusts me, I'm honoured especially as Pack Leader that I'm able to be so accepted into such a private space with the inherent knowledge that I will not encroach their boundaries whatsoever because consent is verbal, this is not in any way an invitation to take advantage of them this is deep platonic trust I will guard with my life :]"

and if you listen closely you can hear the lovely sounds of Maffhew bashing his head into a wall about how much of a gentleman Sasha is but also COME ONNNNNN... you know... once Maffhew realises what's happening which (looks at my watch) is not due for another few months really

Battle of wills: unstoppable force (maffhews catholic school understanding of dynamic interactions) vs immovable object (overseas alpha cotillion classes)

And if you think it's an Oh! An overseas dynamic thing! It's not. The Euros are watching the horrible car crash in front of them and doing absolutely nothing about it because it's none of their business, but they will stare at it... maybe judge it a bit but definitely are observing from the tall grass.

and I'm also not saying that luosty lundy forsy and bobby have a current running bet of how long it'll take for maffhew to break sasha in but i'm also not not saying that... luosty goaded lundy in the midst of a gossip session ("It has to be 3 months, right?) forsy happened to be around so lundy turned to him for advice ("7 months.") and maybeeee bobby overheard from all the way over from his stall and puts in his two cents for what it's worth ("6. Captain nice but not that nice. Very impatient." "So 3!" "No. Impatience makes him double the time, and wait longer. 6 months.") (lundy finally settles on a good 5 months because he's indecisive)

And Sasha does eventually pick up everything maffhew is throwing down... eventually... and when he does it becomes more so I want to court this omega the way they deserve I will take this slow and romance them sweetly :) *smash cut to maffhew caterwauling like a cat in heat*

but also once again its not like maffhew is helping sasha in any way this is idiot4idiot and benny would like to enjoy the car crash with the euros but unfortunately that's his soulmate, thats his bestie, his littermate from birth who has been weaned on the same teat as they climbed over each other to get to it, the first girl you kissed in your childhood bedroom because somehow you started play fighting on the bed because she was like i could totally pin you down easy and then she does and you always noticed how beautiful she was but shes even more gorgeous when she's pinning your wrists to your hannnah montana duvet you promised yourself youd changed out before she came over but you forget and well she teased you about it and you cant help but giggle about how perfect this all is and it seems that the natural conclusion to this is to taste the strawberry lipgloss of her lips because whats a kiss between besties huh its tacky and sticky and it tastes like summer and just other apt metaphors to put here about the inherent -isms of their relationship that i nearly cant put to words properly other than girls having fun (they are fucking)

and well anyways benny is watching and he has a lot of things to say about how its been proceeding so far

"You should really use your words."

"I am!"

"Right because smelling like a fucking perfume shop in the middle of October is using your words."

"This usually works with most Alphas okay!"

"Sasha isn't most Alphas."

"Tell me about it." Matthew grouses before he peeks over to Sam, looking up from beneath his eyelashes—the exact way he knows both endears him to Sam but also absolutely miffs him all the same, "Worked on you, didn't it?"

"Oh, is that what we're doing right now? We're calling getting a lapful of a preening O in preheat in the middle of a roadie a normal way to go about these things."

"It worked didn't it?" Matthew reiterates.

"It would work better if you use—"

"Okay! Alright!! I get it!!!" He does not.

like benny here is unfortunately an active listening participant in the going ons of the fuckery if not because hes involved by proxy because of maffhew because who else will hold his hair back as he calls him a dumb bitch you know

[soup-of-the-daisies]

to name your firstborn son after the loyal dog (man’s best friend) (man’s companion) (man’s tool) who accompanied the hunter you were named after (killed for something not his fault) (killed for competency) (killed by the gods for catching a goddess’ eye) to the night sky for eternity, forever chasing, forever hunting, never catching- is, in all honesty, exactly the kind of dramatic and theatrical arrogant shit you’d expect from a black

[late-tothe-party-07]

I love how many dads MK has.

Like there is never enough dads. He will never run out of fully grown men who collectively question why there is a (debatably) 20 year old, fellow man, walking around with nothing but a stick and some anxiety, and why they fricking care so much about if he's eaten breakfast.