#without saying that the better place is dead

[wendichester]

Could you maybe write an older!sister reader please ?

⋆.˚ not on my watch,

summary. your boys are always looking for trouble and you always come to the rescue.

pairing. sam + dean winchester x older sis!reader genre. fluffy angst

wordcount. 675

notes / warnings. mentions of blood, typical older sister overprotective behavior, taking care of those two idiots.

You don’t knock. You don’t wait. You storm into the motel room with blood on your jeans and hell in your eyes.

Dean’s on the bed, holding a dish towel to a gash in his side, and Sam’s trying to get the first aid kit open with trembling hands. They both freeze when they see you.

“You didn’t answer your damn phones.”

Dean winces. “Battery died.”

“Mine too,” Sam mumbles.

You slam the door behind you. “I thought you were dead.”

Dean grins — the cocky, busted-up kind that means “please don’t yell at me while I’m actively bleeding out.”

“We’ve been worse,” he says, voice tight.

You ignore him.

You cross the room in two strides, shoving Sam out of the way so you can kneel in front of Dean. You grab the bloody towel without asking.

He hisses. “Ow—ow, shit.”

“Good.”

“You gonna kiss it better too, or just beat me senseless?”

“Depends if you shut up.”

He does shut up.

You work in silence for a beat. Wipe the blood. Clean the gash. It’s not deep, but it’s angry. Red and raw and exactly the kind of thing Dean likes to walk off like it won’t get infected if someone doesn’t step in and care.

“I told you not to take that job without me.”

Dean shrugs. “It was routine. Salt and burn.”

“Then why did I get a call from Bobby saying a banshee tore through town like a goddamn blender?”

Dean tries to look guilty. Fails. “...The bones were buried under an old bar. Complicated.”

You exhale through your nose. Hands shaking slightly now. You press the gauze in too hard and he winces again, but doesn’t complain.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you whisper.

He doesn’t respond. Sam, still standing awkwardly nearby, clears his throat.

“I told him we should wait.”

“Thanks, Sammy.” You glance up at him. His cheek’s bruised. His lip’s split. “You okay?”

He nods. “I’m fine.”

“You’re limping.”

“I’m fine.”

You press a hand to his arm, then return to Dean.

“God, you’re idiots.”

Dean chuckles. “That’s the family motto.”

You tape the gauze in place and finally sit back on your heels. Stare at them both. Filthy. Bruised. Alive.

Barely.

“You can’t keep doing this.”

Dean sighs. “We’ve been hunting since—”

“I know how long we’ve been hunting.” Your voice wavers. “But I was supposed to keep you safe. And every time I get a call like that, I think—this is it. This is when I lose one of you.”

Sam’s already crying. Quiet, like he always does. He sniffles, brushing a hand under his nose.

Dean swallows hard, eyes glassy.

“Hey,” you say softly. “You’re my boys. I don’t care how grown you are. You’re still mine. And if I have to chain you to the Impala just to keep you from getting yourselves killed, I will.”

Dean smirks, voice hoarse. “Kinky.”

You smack his shoulder — gently. He flinches anyway.

You sigh, standing.

“Okay,” you say. “Shirts off.”

Sam blinks. “What?”

“You’re both cut up. I’m cleaning it.”

“I can do mine,” he mutters.

You raise a brow.

He groans and starts peeling off his flannel.

Dean lays back with a grunt. You pull up a chair and get to work on them both. Stitch here. Bandage there. You work like you always have — careful but fast, like you were born to mend boys built for war.

They stay quiet.

Until Dean says, “Y’know, we never really said it.”

You pause. “Said what?”

“That we wouldn’t have made it without you.”

Sam looks over at him, then nods. “We wouldn’t.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up and let me save your dumb lives again.”

But your throat’s tight. Your hands tremble just a little more.

And when they’re finally patched and passed out on opposite beds, snoring like lumberjacks, you sit between them and watch. Just to make sure they’re still breathing.

Just to be sure they made it back.

Just to remind yourself: they’re still yours.

ꔛ. navigation 𓂃˖ ࣪ all drabbles ; compatibility readings ; support my work .ᐟ

[dilfsnatcher101]

24-Hour S.R.

Warnings: cursing

Anon: This is just gonna be a little series atp

Summary: After going ghost for a week the silent man himself takes it upon himself to confront you.

pt1 pt2 pt3 pt4

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Working at a 24-hour café sounded like a good idea once. In reality? It's 12:03 AM, I’m dead on my feet, and the only thing keeping me from collapsing onto the pastry counter is a lukewarm cinnamon roll and spite. This is how it’s been all week. Night shifts, no time to cook, no time to grocery shop. Not that I’ve been home enough to miss a meal anyway. Still… maybe I need to go back to the market because of other reasons.

Ghost… still wondering what his real name is. But seriously I still need my tupperwear back so I have to go see him- I mean get it. 

The record player lets out a soft screech as the needle runs out. I scramble over to change it, swapping in something jazzier, something that doesn’t sound like heartbreak and rain.

The bell above the door rings.

“One second, just fixing the tunes,” I call, slipping the new vinyl onto the deck.

A pause.

Then a voice low and gruff, dipped in something warm and dangerous.

“Where have you been?” I turn around quickly at the voice knowing exactly who it belongs to. 

“Ghost hey- wait how do you know where I work” I say making my way behind the counter as if he’d order. 

I doubt it he looks like he doesn’t drink coffee.

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, stepping closer to the counter. “Wanted tea.”

I raise a brow, hand on my hip. “You want tea?”

“I said what I said.” He sits down on one of the stools. “Please.”

I smirk. “That’s what I thought. Now answer my question.”

He groans, running a hand down his mask. My eyes trace the lines of his knuckles as they scrape along his jaw. “Do you always ask so many damn questions?”

“I work night shifts. I live on questions and coffee.”

“Christ,” he mutters. “Fine. I asked around. There’s like a hundred fucking coffee shops in this city. I found yours.” He crosses his arms making eye contact with the steam coming from the pot instead of me which was the first.

I blink. “Wow. Ghost I don’t even know your last name but you hunted me down. That Alfredo must’ve been better than I thought.”

He grunts as a response “You didn’t answer my question.”  he murmured nodding his head as a thank you for the tea. I groan shortly using my arms to show the place off.

“Ive been working these shifts every night, that’s why im not out during the day, im sleeping” I yawn dreaming about resting. 

He hums into the steam curling from his cup. “Thought maybe I scared you off. Didn’t come get your bowl back.” There’s a shift in his tone, barely there. But it’s disappointment, or something that smells like it. 

I soften, letting the sass melt just a little. “Nice try. You’re not as scary as you think you are.” He looks up sharply, like I slapped him with a compliment. Or a challenge.

“I’ve been thinking about stopping by all week,” I add, voice gentler now. “To get the bowl. Obviously.”

I turn to clean a mug before he can catch the lie in my eyes. He leans forward, elbows on the counter. “Well. Was boring without ya. Should’ve come by.” 

That almost makes me freeze

Not the words, but the way he says it. Flat, but loaded. My heart stutters, then speeds up. “You want my number?”

He blinks. “What?”

I grin. “So next time I ghost, you can complain directly.” I hold my hand out for his phone.

He hesitates, then slowly pulls it from his pocket and drops it into my palm. “You’re pushy.”

“You’re welcome,” I say sweetly, texting myself from his phone and saving his number before setting it on the counter. He’s quiet while I do it, eyes drifting toward the window. Street lights flicker outside. The road is empty and quiet, too quiet. “It’s not safe for you to work nights,” he mutters.

I raise a brow. “Excuse me?”

“No protection. No backup. You close up alone?”

I cross my arms, half off the offense, half flattered. “What makes you think I don’t carry protection?”

He looks back at me. Doesn’t answer. Just stares. And it’s a look that says he’s not asking permission. It says he’s already decided. “I’ll walk you home.” I laugh, thinking it’s a joke.

He doesn’t laugh.

“What’s funny?” he asks, deadpan.

“You don’t have to do that. It’s late, I’ve still got like forty-five minutes.”

“And I’ll wait.”

“Seriously?” I blink.

He leans back on the stool, sipping his tea like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah. Not negotiable.” I just stare at him, this man who found me through a city full of cafés, who remembered my damn Tupperware, who sits in the quiet just to be near me. Something warm settles in my chest.

“Well, I guess you can be nice.”

He doesn’t smile.

But he doesn’t deny it either.

p4

[brummelliana]

Unpopular opinion but I do not like that woman. I might get crucified for this by certain fans. I don't know why compared to the other beatles girls she gets the most fanart and is treated like the second coming, or that she's utterly perfect and Paul is ugly and gross and is lucky to even be in her prescense. Maybe it's cause I've done a lot of research, and have seen a bit more than the "best marriage ever true love" propaganda. From everything I've read about her, she's an out of touch heiress masquerading as "down to earth, not like the other girls." Everything I see her being praised for on her fan accounts are like, the most basic shit. Like wow she loved animals, wow she wasn't like the other girls and was fine with getting dirty. She took pictures all the time. So what?

I don't have all the sources handy, but it is just the vibe I got from all the reading I've done... like pretentious hippie. She compared killing animals and eating meat to the holocaust in an interview. Bruh.

On a more petty level, I find her voice grating, her fashion is awful and idk what the hype is about. I can't interact with 70s at all without her being shoved into everything. Sure, Paul would've been more awful in these aspects, but that's Paul and I'm down bad. He could show up at my house and set fire to my room and I'd be like "What did goddesss mean by this?" I'm obviously biased. I'm just a man. But like... Paul actually accomplished things on his own merit. Like if he's going to be pretentious he has more grounds to stand on.

What annoys me the most is when People say she's better than him or perfect or something, Paul is an ugly loser. She would've been a footnote in rock photography if it wasn't for him. Her pictures are fine, but there are lots of photographers who can take pictures like that. I feel fer her on that tbh, she knew marrying Paul would kill her career, but that doesn't make it untrue that her fame is tied to him. Most of the time she's complicit in whatever bitchy thing Paul is doing, or actively supporting it and defending him. Well, yeah, if I was hitting that I'd do the exact same thing, I don't claim to be better. But don't act like she was above it all.

I've not said anything because its coming from me, right. I'm obviously obsessed with Paul and its clearly coming from a place of jealousy. No! I'd naturally be envious, but I wouldn't dislike a woman just because Paul didn't stay celibate for 60 years. I wouldn't hate a woman just because she married him. I've already professed my love for Jane, and I don't really care about his current wife, though I don't really know much about her.

I get that she's dead, but that doesn't mean I have to like her out of respect like I used to. She's not immune to critism.

What did goddess mean by this?

[jjwolves]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ DEAD INSIDE, THE INNER MIND ┈┈┈┈

What: 10 Merci X Reader Headcanons (Romantic)

Who: Merci, from ENA by Joel G

How Much: ~1,200 words; reading time ~4 mins

Images: Top -> Joel G; Divider -> @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Warnings: Profanity

Genre: Romance

✄ Merci’s “body language of the gods” can be easily misunderstood. She’ll scream out a warning to passerby about the dangers of this cursed place, and they continue on, blissfully unaware of the ruin which befalls any who enter. She’ll cuss out someone who bowled her over in a rush to get into the Cosmic Dervish before the gate closes and they’ll offer a quick “thank you” and a thumbs up. She wasn’t giving them directions, dammit! And she’ll confess that she cares a lot about you one day, sidling up next to you, and you’ll think she says, “Stay safe out there!” Fucks’ sake. Of all the times to read her words as warnings.

✄ Direct communication seems to be off the table, since everyone who hears her happens to be a dumbass. As a result, she ends up trying to lay her feelings out in a way that is hard to misinterpret. In the evening (if time ever really mattered), the first thing you see when you come home is the stark white of Merci’s mask and gloves, her silhouette leaned against a nearby hand-tree. When you sit on a rock next to her, she offers you some sake and you drink together in kind, warm quiet. And if the quiet happens to be kind of cool instead, the sake more than makes up the difference.

✄ Usually Merci prefers to stay covered in obscurity, making sure you’re safe from afar and only emerging to angrily stomp over and drag you away from things which could harm you, trick you or warp you into something else… But suddenly she begins appearing more regularly in your life, summoning herself to your side without the need of shadow to hide her. (And by shadow, I of course mean comically contorting perfectly into the shape of a tree or rock she’s hiding behind so you don’t see her). 

✄ Her love language is quality time and words of affirmation (ironically). When you tell her how cool she is, how safe you feel with her around, how weird and awesome her hand-puppet-mouths are, or really just about anything else, she playfully pokes you with her stick in what is likely a metaphorical slip of the mask on her part, but she doesn’t care. She’s flustered and sweating and trying to play it off. “Thanks, pal!” you hear her say. She said you were ‘fine as hell, yourself,’ how do these mistranslations keep happening!?

✄ At first you view her as an aloof, mysterious artist who sagely observes from afar. She does her best to keep this appearance up because she likes to be cool for you. “I kind of get the feeling that everything you do has a lot of intention behind it. I like that,” you say, and Merci replies by relaxing her posture, like she’s saying no big deal. Don’t lose your head over it. The truth is, though, that she’s stuck in an invisible maze due to her communication problems–a struggle many mimes undoubtedly endure, in both regards. It’s difficult to navigate her feelings for you while maintaining the “cool, silent mentor” character she crafted for herself. But this character is held together with stylish monochromatic tape and entirely self-imagined poise. 

✄ When Merci gets frustrated with something, her stoic facade pretty much instantly shatters to pieces as she starts stomping, banging her head into walls and launching into a dance routine of rage. Her hands curse and yell and hurl whatever mad libs profanity the insult factory in her brain slapped together and had moving on the conveyor belt. She’s surprised, after she’s done blowing off steam, that you’re still standing there, patting her back. Smiling comfortingly, maybe even a touch amused. You don’t say anything, keeping with the silence routine. But you think that you want to try to understand Merci a little better.

✄ Merci eventually learns that you like her for her, and not the super cool, aloof master that she thinks you believed her to be. “I never really thought that you were super stoic all the time,” you admit one day. “I dunno, I just thought it was charming you went so out of your way to impress me. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings by calling you out. I like you for who you are.” Merci shakes her head while leaning against a nearby wall. Her hand speaks for the first time in a while. “I guess I’m not as good of a performance artist as I thought,” she muses. “Heh. Yeah, you need some practice.” She startles, and says, “Wait–wait. Fuck. You understood me!” You’re surprised by this, too; you hadn’t even noticed you were hearing her words as intended until now. It seems you finally understood the body language of the gods. Or at least your girlfriend.

✄ Not long after you had begun to understand Merci better, your relationship took a bend towards the romantic. It was fairly natural; one day you realized that you two spend a lot of time together and cared a lot for each other. One day you realized, hey, Merci sure likes making me laugh, spending half of her time at my house, and kissing me with her mouth-hand-puppets. Oh. How had you not noticed? A part of you was glad to have skipped over the awkward date proposal part and gone straight to where you both wanted the relationship to be. It was a soundless and graceful arrangement which glided into place like a silent performer in the dark.

✄ One of your favorite hangout spots is the one with the yellow sky and the bridges made out of beads, feathers and string. Once in a while, a plane with party streamers on it passes overhead to play music nobody wants to hear. You come here often, holding a balance competition to see which one of you can last the longest standing on top of a pole. Merci usually wins but tries to make it sound like you were a lot closer to winning than you were. At one point, an obnoxious Diet Blood trader makes their presence known with the clattering of their cart and their shouts for you, pressing you two for directions. Merci’s mouths are already firing off. “Take the left bridge and be prepared for the dangerous terrain that follows. Good luck!” The trader takes her advice, but you two snicker as he leaves. It’d be hard to explain to him that Merci actually said that she and her partner were busy and that annoying fucks like him should go find a ditch to lie in.

✄ Merci is a little bit overprotective of you. Despite the whole “sage overseer” schtick she defaulted to when she didn’t know how to interact with you very well yet, she’s still an experienced and slightly world-weary soul. She cares a lot about you and likes to hover around you like heady perfume. When you go somewhere, she has a tendency to invite herself along without asking. She has to keep your dumbass out of trouble. If someone’s mistreating you or swindling you, then Merci will swoop in to fight in your corner. This usually involves walking up to the confrontation and immediately throwing an unhinged, screaming tantrum at the offender until they leave. Once they’re gone, expect a hand-smooch from a victorious Merci waiting for you to praise her for her splendid defense.

A/N: I had fun writing this. If there's requests anyone has for ENA-related stuff like this, then send them my way. Merci has a fun design and her mistranslated dialogue interests me a lot, so I tried to run with it. It's kind of impossible to say regarding canon, but for these headcanons, the mistranslation thing is a Merci-specific issue and not just a weird area effect. Although, if we start saying that ENA's inability to understand Merci is Merci-specific, then my boy Robert has this problem too. Hmm. Fuel for thought.

[mahtariel-of-himring]

Sophie is Prentice‘s daughter but this time she finds out early on.

That moment when she and Tiergan walk through the human world and when they talk about Prentice and Sophie says „He‘s my father isn’t he?“ (Or something along the lines of that, I don’t remember exactly what she said)

But this time he doesn’t immediately deny it, instead he gets unsure, and she takes it as confirmation, and eventually gets a confession from him.

So now she knows, she knows before she gets super close with anyone.

Before she trusts Alden to a fault.

Before she gets adopted.

Before anything happens with the council.

And it changes everything.

She pushes Tiergan for more information, anyone really, and eventually finds out about the mind break.

Now she‘s not as close with Alden yet, and the knowledge that he practically killed someone, who just so happens to be her biological father, who sacrificed himself that she’d be safe, shatters that trust.

This time there is no sweet little innocent girl.

This time there is a child of a rebel, who knows who she is, and starts hating the council early on.

The first book would be rather similar, only that she’d probably not be as close with the Vackers.

However, this completely screws up the second book.

Sophie is reluctant to go to Exile with Alden, but in the back of her mind there is Prentice, knowing he‘s there, so she goes.

The rest happens the same, they break Fintan‘s mind, she finds the safe spot and Alden get‘s hurt.

Then when the scene with Prentice comes up, when she finally sees him, something inside her just snaps.

Seeing him lay there, knowing he was her father, knowing he had sacrificed it all, his sanity, his life, to keep her safe, sets a burning hatred for the Council ablaze within her and changes the future for good.

She goes into his mine, sees the destruction, get‘s the phrase.

But this time she tells him who she is, she say‘s she‘s the moonlark and she’ll come back from him, and he knows she will.

They go back to the lost cities, time passes, she sees Wylie for the first time on stage, knowing that‘s her half brother.

And then Alden‘s mind breaks, she does heal him eventually, because she wants to be better than him, but doesn’t feel as guilty or bad as she did in the original.

More time passes, the third book rolls around, comes and goes without much difference.

But then, when they go join Black Swan things change drastically.

At this point I don’t think she‘s as close with Fitz as she was in the books, though I still think her and Biana got along.

In this version I‘m not sure if Fitz will come along, him and Sophie aren’t cognates here, they’re friends, but nothing more.

Biana however does, being the first in her family to rebel.

I‘m unsure if Della would come along in this one so I‘ll leave that one open.

When they arrive Sophie and her friend’s get sworn in and everything goes as it does in the original version.

This time however, Sophie pushes for them to go break out Prentice, she‘s been training, she still had her Infliction lesson‘s with Bronte, and she still has a good relationship with Oralie and Kenric, but now that he‘s dead and Alina is at his place her relationship with the council is vastly different.

I do think she‘d get along with Oralie, Bronte and Terik, as in the original, but I don’t think she‘d care greatly for the rest at this point.

When it finally happens and they go rescue Prentice, she‘s much more determined, and much more willing to take risks.

When the council catches then she shamelessly uses the cache, prepared to actually use it.

And when they get banished it turns into the first step that pushes her towards true rebellion.

[wellthebardsdead]

*the scarab prince & the runaway dragon, pt 15, part 14 here*

———

Steren: You’re a surprisingly good tracker when you’re not under the influence.

Inigo: it is one of my best skills, next to squashing spiders and shooting bandits- *sniffs the air* though…

Steren: though?

Inigo: the scent. It is clouded. Smoke, a lot of it, up ahead…

Teldryn Sero: Fire?

Inigo: *ears twitching* Mr Dragonfly says he saw a great shadow fly beyond the moonlight, a dragon he says.

Teldryn Sero: *snorts* Yep, he’s still high.

Steren: *tilts his head slightly* hm… *just continues following the khajiits horse* I doubt it was a dragon, maybe an unusually large bird.

Inigo: Mr dragonfly has very good eyesight. He does not mistake things easily! He-… *stares at the open gates of Helgen, imperial soldiers rallying to look for survivors and recovering bodies of the fallen* gods…

Steren: *quietly rides ahead of him and to the gates* …Excuse me- what’s happened here?

Imperial Soldier: A dragon! I swear it was a dragon! It made boulders rain from the sky! It burnt everything in its path! It was as big as the keep tower and black as night and its eyes- gods its eyes! *cowers back to the ground, weeping silently*

Steren: … *looks back at Inigo in stunned silence* Well, I’m never doubting Mr dragonfly ever again…

Inigo: you would be wise not to- *sniffs the air again* I smell him- he is… *looks around silently, catching the scent on the breeze* this way! *starts leading his horse through the destruction, through towards the gate leading to riverwood*

Teldryn Sero: *staring at the remains of the settlement, eyes widening as he sees the huge paw print of alduins back leg and a charred corpse where his voice brought forth fire from his words* it really was a dragon… *laughs softly* I knew I was in for adventure when I laid eyes on you. If our odd friend thinks your vivec lookalike is-

Steren: *glares back at him with murderous intent behind his worry filled eyes* He. Is Vivienne. And he- *points at inigo* is not my friend. He’s only alive because there might be a chance Vi is still alive. And if he isn’t, he’s. Dead…

Inigo: *ears pinning back*

Teldryn Sero: Well, thankfully it won’t come to that. If he’s right about the dragons then he’s surely right about, Vivienne.

Steren: *huffs* for his sake he’d better be… *looks off in the distance, the ominous spires of bleak falls barrow casting a shroud over the landscape, held off by the faint warm glow of whiterun over the hills, and the smaller glimmer of a cozy hamlet by a babbling river* … *nudges his horse with his heel making it move faster as he feels a warmth fill his chest* Vivi…

*meanwhile*

Vivienne: *seated beside Ralof as Hadvar orders himself another drink and Taliesin enjoys a much needed bath* mm, he deserted the thalmor and, Hes a bit stuffy but, he’s nice…

Ralof: hm, I’ll take your word for it then. I’ve no place to question your judgement after you saved me and… made me and Hadvar find common ground… *glances over at the bar, smiling at the other soldier for a moment, before following his gaze to the Nord man eyeing Vivienne from across the inn* …Im going to grab another drink. You want anything?

Vivienne: n-no thank you I’m fine. *smiles sheepishly as he continues eating his dinner*

Ralof: *nods and gets up, slowly walking to Hadvars side* assassin?… bounty collector?

Hadvar: no… worse I think… a pervert.

Vivienne: *watches the two before resuming eating the meal Taliesin had to order for him because he simply couldn’t read or understand the menu, his mind wandering back to Sterens voice in his ears, gently comforting him as he struggled to count or pronounce words from parchment written for children* … *furrows his brow, staring at the gold and blue tips of his fingers as grief grips his heart again as he just looks at the reason he had to leave, himself* you’ll be better off without me…

*soft whining*

Vivienne: hm?… *looks down and jumps a little to see a wolf, just sitting there, staring up at him with big eyes* … *looks at his food and gently offers him the plate* g-good dog?… *smiles watching him as it watches him set the food down before quickly tucking into it*

???: hey!! Get Out of it!!

Vivienne: *jumps watching the wolf cower and stagger away as a figure steps into view, kicking the creature back* o-oh no it’s-

Bishop: sorry about him, stupid mutt doesn’t know how to act right. *drops down into the seat beside him* how’s about I make it up to you beautiful~? Names Bishop. *grabs Vivienne’s hood and pulls it back a little to fully see his face* you’re an unusual looking elf aren’t you?… cute though~

Vivienne: *feeling a knot form in the pit of his stomach, recognising that look in his eyes. Predatory, looking at him, not seeing him, but looking. At his clothes, beneath his clothes, eyeing up every inch of his body and somehow making him feel exposed with just that alone. Already discerning he won’t hand over a coin for the service of using him, but rather would take him and more for free whether he liked it or not* … *grabs his hand and pushes it away slowly before pulling his hood back in place* no thank you…

Bishop: *rolls his eyes and sighs, looking at him like he’s the one being a problem* oh come on don’t be like that, what? Dont I fit your type? *glances past him at Hadvar and Ralof, unfazed seeing the two glaring back at him* them and the Thalmor prick you walked in here with. You like the military types? Big men who can make you feel important while they rail you because of a uniform?

Vivienne: my type is many different things. *glares at him, disgust clear in his voice as he gets up* and you aren’t any of them. *turns to leave, blinking as he sees both Hadvar and Ralof push off from the bar, drawing their weapons as they see bishop get up after him, only to halt as a dark hand grabs the Nord by the shoulder*

???: Excuse me.

Bishop: who the- *turns around only to be met by a fist in his face, so hard it sends him flying across the room and into the bar between the two soldiers*

Vivienne: *frozen in place as his mind tries to comprehend the voice that met his ears, just staring at bishop as Steren steps into view, walking past him with just a gentle touch to his hand, letting him know he sees him before stalking towards his target*

Steren: *heart fluttering as his fingers caress Vivienne’s hand, smiling slightly at him as he passes by, before scowling as he stands over bishop, his other hand resting on the hilt of trueflame* he said. No. *reaches down to pull him up so he can hit him again, only to halt as he hears soft, trembling whimpers behind him* … *turns to see Vivienne standing there, whole body trembling as tears stream down his face, droplets falling from the shadow of his hood as he just stares at him and sobs* Vivi…

Vivienne: *overwhelmed with emotions, relief, shame, happiness, sadness, fear, embarrassment, anxiety. Struggling to grasp that Steren cared enough about him to come after him, to track him all this way, only to save him yet again* I-i- *chokes on his own words as the prince embraces him before he can even begin to fathom how he’ll apologise* s-sorry! I’m s-so sorry!

Steren: *smiling so softly as he presses his face into the smaller mers shoulder. The rough fabric of the mages hood soaking up his tears as relief floods through his body and soothes his heart. Vivienne’s cries and apologies only serving to bring his arms around him even tighter, holding him even closer, even longer* shhh, it’s okay, it’s alright now, you don’t have to apologise, I’m here now…

Vivienne: *gasps out a broken whimper between shaking sobs as he just buries his face into his shoulder, his arms following sterens and embracing his prince, his star, his heart fluttering with just his presence alone. Each whisper, each gentle word word of reassurance, all flooding him with an overwhelming sense of something he’d never had in his life, of being wanted, of being cared about, of being loved*

Hadvar: *smiling as he watches them* that must be his friend he mentioned.

Ralof: mm, it seems today is a day of unexpected reunions…

Hadvar: mhm… *smiles at him before looking down at bishop seeing the other nord trying to get up* … *looks at Ralof* …

Ralof: *nods and reaches down, grabbing him by the back of his armor as Hadvar does his arms* Why don’t we step outside, ‘friend’.

Hadvar: can’t have you ruining such a nice moment now can we? *suddenly sucker punches bishop in the face as he goes to speak*

Ralof: gods I love you… *smiles and drags him out with Hadvar, awkwardly nudging past Teldryn and Inigo as they stand by the door watching*

Inigo: I am so relieved my aim was off this time.

Teldryn Sero: Don’t hold onto that relief too tightly. Our friend could very well change his mind once he hears his loves version of what happened.

Inigo: Love? I thought they were only friends?

Teldryn Sero: heh, they can say that all they want.. but that. *nods to the pair as Steren dries Vivienne’s eyes* that’s love…

Taliesin: *standing in the doorway to the washroom having witnessed literally all of that after returning from his bath* …I was gone. For 10. Minutes.

[yes-no-maybe-soo]

hi hi hi! this is @syslut :3 i just recently followed your lovely blog and i’ve always loved how passionately you talk about our dear loverboi.

on to the point: do you have any theories sylus’s upcoming main story branch?! 👀👀👀 saw your tags here :3

i am so excited and lowkey anxious; i smell angst 😭🤚

Aaaa thank you so much for your kind words ❤️ It means so much to me that you guys enjoy my yapping 💞 (love the @/syslut username btw!)

Ok so re: the main story and angst, these lines from Sylus' birthday event have been stuck on my mind for days and made me more and more anxious the longer I mull them over

(And there's also these lines from Greedy Heart)

I've consumed works of fiction since I was a wee thing and in my experience lines like these never herald sunshine or rainbows. On the contrary they often foreshadow that one or both characters are pretty much cooked... same as when a character in a show says that today is their last day before retirement. You know the dude will be dead by the end of the episode ;-; I get a similar feeling of dread here.

That is not to say that I believe that Sylus or MC will (perma) die or anything, especially not in the upcoming branch. The game is still very fresh with lots more content to come, not to mention that you can't really kill off main characters in an otome gacha (thank god). However, I do believe that the angst we will get will still be extremely painful. Paperfold are masters at the art of twisting the knife and giving us all PTSD.

My prediction is that something bad will happen to MC — she'll be abducted, injured, maybe even temporarily killed, or all three — and we will get to witness Sylus be properly enraged and afraid. We haven't seen him in either state yet, since very few things truly get under his skin. Most of the time he is nonchalant or even bored in the face of threats. He projects nigh invincibility to his opponents and even to MC. He has no discernible weaknesses... or at least, as far as his enemies are aware (for now).

But we know better. The only times we've ever seen Sylus approaching a state of anger or fear have involved MC. He gets upset at himself in battle mode if MCs health is low by the end of it, and he also yells out in alarm for her to "look out!" if he sees her about to get hit by Wanderers. And recently in his birthday card he was visibly worried for her when she fell. The writers have made the fact that MC is Sylus' weakness clear even before Sylus himself stated it outright. And now that he has, I am 99.9% certain that it will be utilized in the plot at some point. Like I've said before, the LADS writers seldom include stuff like this without some sort of intent. It's not just meant to be wholesome fluff imo. Maybe it will even lead to Sylus actually being (temporarily) defeated in order to save MC?

However, whether this will happen in the upcoming branch I am less certain about. It might be too premature for that. But I'm not ruling it out completely.

What is basically 100% certain though is that something angsty will happen, and that we will be in pain. My reasons for believing this are

The main branches for the OG3 were all angsty.

We have been fed a suspicious amount of fluff and sunshine lately. Which will make the angst hit even harder. Which, knowing Paperfold, is exactly the plan. They're lulling us into a false sense of security.

Angst or an intense situation of some sort would be a great vehicle for character development for both Sylus and MC, as well as for furher deepening their relationship.

The main story and branches have involved lore. And you know what LADS lore means right? Exactly. Emotional suffering. For both the characters and us.

It's a bit tricky to guess what said angst or lore will be though since for one we don't know at which point in time the branch will take place. Will MC still have the same opinions and feelings re: Sylus as when she left him in the main story? Or will enough time have passed that they are more intimate? Weren't the latter the case with the OG3? Or am I misremembering?

Furthermore, in the case of the OG3 their branches were based off the third anecdotes. And seeing as Sylus still doesn't have that... well, his will clearly have to be based off of something else. Unless they decide to drop the anecdotes at the same time? Please God let that be the case! We are so lore starved over here... not to mention free companion starved... 😓

My best guess right now is that the Beyond Cloudfall myth will come into play somehow. Maybe MC will regain some memories, or maybe Sylus will finally reveal his dragon form?

As for theories outside angst, I think it's pretty safe to say that we will learn more about EVER and the Eye of Aether, or at least aether cores in general. Most of all I want answers regarding what is up with Sylus' right eye. Who put the aether core there and when? His eye has clearly been special for a long time, as far back as in Beyond Cloudfall. I'm doubting we'll be getting a definitive answer for that here though. LADS likes drip-feeding its info and lore after all.

Anyway, that's really as far as I feel comfortable going with my theories and speculations rn. I apologize for the extremely long and rambling answer dhdjdfj I always get super carried away with topics like these 😅 if you guys have any theories, then please don't hesitate to add on to this ♡

[homuraakemis]

I've seen a few times people on Twitter, Reddit and here hating on Vi in order to defend Caitlyn for hitting Vi, or even saying that "Vi doesn't give a shit about Caitlyn while Caitlyn sacrifices everything for Vi, Vi only cares about Jinx". This is not a common opinion, by the way, most of the Caitlyn and Caitvi fans I see usually defend Vi as well, but occasionally I do see some criticisms of Vi that I don't agree with at all.

One thing I saw was people saying that Vi wasn't supportive of Caitlyn in her grief. They have pointed out that Vi berated Caitlyn for offering her the badge, and that Vi brought up stopping the invasion instead of letting Caitlyn grieve. And, sure, they will feel hurtful to Caitlyn, but look at it from Vi's perspective. Caitlyn offering Vi the badge is also hurtful to Vi, and she talks about Vi being on "our side" (as if there was a side that Vi must choose), so Vi answers by telling Caitlyn that she wasn't "thinking at all". Vi also cares about the Undercity and is worried about the bloodshed that could happen with a full invasion, and Caitlyn is the only connection that she has to the council, so she asks for Caitlyn's help, especially after seeing the memorial attack and knowing that Piltover's retaliation could be brutal. Is Vi a villain here for wanting Caitlyn's help to save her people? The thing is, they are BOTH hurtful to each other, because they are placed in an awful situation with no easy solutions, and they are both going through a difficult time (Caitlyn is grieving her mother, but Vi is also grieving the fact that her sister is now a criminal that needs to be stopped, as well as feeling guilty for Jinx's actions).

Another argument I've seen against Vi is the idea that Vi lied to Caitlyn about being ok with killing Jinx, and then "betrayed" Caitlyn by stopping her from taking the shot and berating her for it. Some even say that Vi saying she wanted to protect Isha is just an "excuse" to stop Caitlyn from killing her sister. But that's not what happened at all! Vi actually lets Caitlyn take the shot at Jinx! At the very beginning of the fight, she tells Jinx "I'm sorry" and steps aside as Caitlyn takes the shot to kill her sister:

She only stops Caitlyn later, when Isha gets involved (and Isha is not an "excuse" not to kill Jinx; as shown above, Vi actually let Caitlyn try to kill Jinx). And Vi is right! Yes, Caitlyn is an excellent shot, and she was able to shoot the gun from Isha's hand when Isha tries to shoot Vi, all without hurting Isha. But when Isha hugs Jinx, Isha's head was right next to Jinx's head, Isha was moving (when Caitlyn shot the gun away, Isha was still), and the Hextech weapons were glitching. Caitlyn may be the best shot in the world (and I do think Caitlyn is perfectly capable of taking that shot without hurting Isha, even in her state of mind), but any number of things could have happened to make her miss that shot (not to mention that she would still be shooting someone in front of a child). Vi wasn't wrong to stop Caitlyn. When she asks Caitlyn "what's wrong with you?", she is not wrong. She is not berating Caitlyn for shooting at Jinx (as the image above shows, she actually is willing to let Caitlyn shoot Jinx, even if deep down she doesn't want to see her sister dead). She's berating Caitlyn for putting Isha's life at risk. It's a completely different situation and context. Vi didn't betray or lie to Caitlyn about her willingness to follow the plan to take down Jinx (I don't mind people saying that Caitlyn felt betrayed. My problem is when people claim that Vi actually betrayed/lied to Caitlyn, which is not true). And even though Caitlyn just did something that Vi morally disagrees with, she still wants to stay with Caitlyn and support her, she makes no mention of leaving her or abandoning her in her mission to hunt Jinx, she only stays behind after Caitlyn hits her. (Btw, Caitlyn herself would have appreciated Vi's honesty with her if she was in a better state of mind. One of the very reasons Caitlyn fell for Vi is the fact that Vi always tells her when she thinks Caitlyn is wrong and the fact that Vi opened her eyes to the plight of the Undercity; Vi is not some "yes woman" like Maddie. I'm sure that months later, Caitlyn probably reflected back on this moment and was grateful that Vi didn't let her do something - putting Isha's life at risk - that she might have regretted for the rest of her life)

Truly, how can anyone say that Vi wasn't supportive of Caitlyn? Vi is there for Caitlyn at her mother's funeral, at her mother's memorial, she is there to hug Caitlyn and wipe her tears and reassure her that they won't let things fall apart. She joins the enforcers, the organization that killed her parents, partially to help and protect Caitlyn, and she gives Caitlyn the go ahead to kill her own sister, going so far as stepping aside to allow Caitlyn to take the shot that will end her sister's life. How could she have been any more supportive than that? What do people even want from her? They want Vi to never speak her mind and never give her opinion so she won't ever hurt Caitlyn's feelings? Vi should never stand up for what she thinks is right? Caitlyn herself wouldn't want Vi to act like that.

Then there's also the people who like to talk about how insensitive Vi was to compare Caitlyn to Jinx, her mother's murderer. But people keep acting like Vi said this out of nowhere as a dig to Caitlyn, and keep forgetting what actually happened in that scene. This is what Caitlyn says to Vi, BEFORE Vi says she's acting like Jinx:

"I keep telling myself that you're different. But you're not. It's her blood in your veins".

Caitlyn is the one who compares Vi to Jinx first and implies that Vi is no different from Jinx. If you think Vi comparing Caitlyn to Jinx is insulting to Caitlyn (and it was, I'm not denying that or trying to minimize Caitlyn's feelings), can't you also see just how insulting and hurtful what Caitlyn said to Vi is? Vi joined the organization that killed her parents in order to stop Jinx (in fact, she already wanted to go after Jinx by herself, even before Caitlyn asked her to join the enforcers). She has made it very clear that she disapproves of her sister's actions, she spent the last month or so helping in the hunt for Jinx, her own sister, and she stepped aside as Caitlyn took the shot that would end her sister's life. All to be told that she's no different from Jinx. Can anyone really blame Vi for biting back and saying that Caitlyn is the one who's behaving like Jinx? Do people really think Vi should just swallow Caitlyn's insult to her and not say anything back? Vi didn't make that comparison to Jinx unprompted. She only said that because Caitlyn was the one that compared her to Jinx first.

Then there are the people saying that Vi was forcing Caitlyn to stay by grabbing her arm, and that's why Caitlyn hit her. Which, again, is not what happened. True, if Vi had never grabbed Caitlyn's arm, Caitlyn would have just left and would not have hit Vi. And I think it's totally fine if people want to use this argument to show that Caitlyn never really meant to hit Vi. But it's not true that Vi was restraining her and preventing her from leaving. As soon as she grabs Caitlyn's arm, she loosens her grip and moves her hand to Caitlyn's hand:

(I mean, just look at how caring and worried Vi's expression is in the second gif. She's not angrily grabbing Cait and preventing her from leaving, she's just softly holding on to her and trying to reach out to Caitlyn)

Caitlyn could very easily shake her arm free and leave, but she chose to hit Vi instead. Caitlyn hitting Vi in this scene is very understandable and forgivable, but let's stop blaming Vi for what happened here. Vi was not in the wrong, she did nothing against Caitlyn to warrant being hit, and Caitlyn had other choices other than hitting Vi (like simply shaking her arm free and walking away).

This isn't to say that there aren't any moments in their relationship in which Vi's actions can be criticized. I do think there are moments where Vi is wrong. One example is their argument after Vi wakes up from her coma. She's not wrong in being upset that Caitlyn followed Ambessa, but she is entirely wrong in being upset that Caitlyn arrested Jinx: regardless of whether Caitlyn trusts Jinx or not, regardless of Jinx saving Caitlyn's life, and regardless of the fact that Jinx has changed, Jinx still murdered her mother and committed plenty of other crimes against other people that she should be arrested for. Vi freeing Jinx is also a betrayal of Caitlyn's trust. Yes, we later learn that Caitlyn allowed Vi to do that, but Vi didn't know this. For all she knew, she was betraying Caitlyn.

But even with these moments, it's not fair at all to say that Vi wasn't supportive of Caitlyn, when she was constantly there to comfort Caitlyn and help her in achieving her goals. It's not fair to say that "Vi only cares about Jinx and never puts Caitlyn first", because Vi put Caitlyn first at the bridge after Jinx shot them and Caitlyn was injured, Vi put Caitlyn first when she joined the enforcers (the organization that killed her parents), and she even allowed Caitlyn to take a shot to kill Jinx. Vi only gives Jinx a chance after the commune and after seeing that her sister has changed, and even when she goes to free Jinx, she doesn't want to run away with Jinx, she wants to stay and help Caitlyn, which is why she asks for Jinx's help (and she only opens Jinx's cell when Jinx says "sure, Vi", agreeing to help).

The thing I don't understand is that you don't have to vilify Vi to defend Caitlyn. There are plenty of things that can be said to defend Caitlyn. Caitlyn offering Vi the badge is very understandable, considering that she was trying to find a solution to the situation and was also thinking of Vi's safety, trying to prevent Vi from going on some rogue reckless mission that could get her killed (and to be honest, I think Caitlyn was right here: Vi already acted as an enforcer before when she took Jayce to raid that shimmer factory, and she wanted to go after Jinx and do the work of an enforcer. She might as well wear the badge). Caitlyn hitting Vi is also very understandable: she was in a highly stressful situation, confronted not only with her mother's murderer but also the woman who kidnapped her and terrorized her, and of course she felt betrayed by Vi stopping her from taking that shot, the shot that she spent so long regretting not taking before. Lashing out and hitting Vi is not the end of the world, it doesn't make her a "domestic abuser" (because it's only one time, and Caitlyn shows no pattern of violence against Vi). And you can see in Caitlyn's face that she regrets her action instantly. Vi herself can understand what it feels like to hit someone you love in a moment of anger and grief, and is very willing to forgive Caitlyn for it. Finally, you can also point out just how much Caitlyn helped Vi and sacrificed for Vi: she freed Vi from Stillwater, risked her life by staying with Vi while Silco's goons chased them when Vi was stabbed (she could have abandoned Vi to save her skin but didn't), gave up her rifle (the only way she had of defending herself) to heal Vi, offered herself to the Firelights in Vi's place, tried to use her body as a shield to save Vi from Jinx's bullets, comforted Vi about her guilt and told her that what happened to her sister wasn't Vi's fault, got Vi an audience with the council and defended Vi in front of them, spared Jinx's life when Vi asked her (which cost her mother's life), betrayed Ambessa and risked her life to save Vi's father, and let Vi free Jinx.

So it's perfectly possible to defend Caitlyn without claiming that "Vi wasn't supportive" or that "Vi always puts Jinx above Caitlyn". And it's also perfectly possible to defend Caitlyn in the moment where she hits Vi without trying to blame Vi for it; without blaming Vi for her words while ignoring that Caitlyn was the one who insulted Vi and compared Vi to Jinx first; and without trying to claim that Vi was "restraining her" or stopping her from leaving and acting as if Caitlyn had no other choice other than hitting Vi.

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

its mission to eradicate alleged “anti-Christian bias”

Okay so first of all, there's no such fucking thing so write that down

ignoring violent anti-Christian offenses.”

Okay so second of all, there's no such fucking thing so write that down

Among the several examples of supposed anti-Christian bias Trump listed in his executive order, was the mention of federal cases in which anti-abortion activists had been convicted of violating the federal Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances Act, or FACE Act.

I absolutely want anti-abortion gutter-trash to experience nothing but hatred and to feel nothing but misery so I am all for anything that causes suffering to their kind

So I am 100% in favor of anyone or anything that does that to "people" like that

Anti-abortion roaches are fucking oxygen thieves who, ironically, are a great arguement for how wonderful abortion is because think how much better the species would be if none of these "people" have ever been born :D

To be clear I'm not saying I wish these people were dead

I wish they had never been shit out in the first place to taint the species

Secretary of State Marco Rubio, a member of the task force, shared allegations that federal employees have faced retaliation for “opposing DEI/LGBT ideology that violated their religious conscience,”

I'm not sure how that's an allegation, because that implies its something bad

I WANT that to happen to anyone who is anti-LGBTQ for any reason

I want anyone who is anti-LGBTQ to lose their job and starve to death on the street because of their nauseating fucking views

The world will be a better place without the dead weight

A task force aimed at eradicating "anti-Christian bias" in the federal government had its first meeting. A Christian leader, and an expert on American religious history weighed in.

On Tuesday, Attorney General Pam Bondi hosted an inaugural meeting of a task force consisting of other members of President Donald Trump’s cabinet, to discuss its mission to eradicate alleged “anti-Christian bias” within the federal government.

The task force is an initiative born out of a February executive order by Trump, in which the president accused former President Joe Biden’s administration of fostering an “anti-Christian weaponization of government.” Bondi quoted a part of Trump’s order at the beginning of Tuesday’s meeting, saying, “The Biden administration engaged in an egregious pattern of targeting peaceful Christians, while ignoring violent anti-Christian offenses.”

[ghostgoing]

Thought: The Fenton Kids Have CPTSD

One of the causes of CPTSD is being in a situation where you felt unsafe for extended periods of time. For example, living in a house with bad lab safety and food that attacks you. Danny also has the additional factor of Vlad.

sometimes, when you’re a person with CPTSD, you don’t want to get until the full story of what happened. Hence, when one of the kids is telling one of the batkids about their experience, they just say “my parents had an unsecure lab in the basement of our house, and it made things kind of stressful, but they’re doing better“

Does they’re doing better mean they’re dead? Or maybe they’re in jail? Or did they *clutches pearl necklace* learn lab safety?

not really noticing the batkid’s horror, the Fenton kid continues “Anyway, that’s why I’m super stressed all the time, because one of the symptoms of CPTSD is feeling like you’re in danger all the time“

Cue batkid internally freaking out being like “oh my God we all have CPTSD?“

The answer is yes, by the way.

Luckily, Danny happens to know a great psychologist…

[javierduffy]

I have been having... a very bad day. Any spare fluffy headcanons for the boys? (and maybe some nsfw ones if you're up to it-)

ohh no my dear helena !!! its unfortunate that you’re having a rough day today :( remember that everything is temporary and that this day, like every other hard day before (and all following after), will pass in its own time.

i can absolutely spare some fluff ! that’s all i’ve got !

• javier goes to bed at about the same time that kieran is waking up every morning, right before dawn, and it’s a common occurrence that he will forget to untie his hair before laying down for bed, especially after a long night of guard duty. kieran will notice every time, and knows himself how easily long hair can get matted, so he will beckon javier over so that he can untie his bow. usually, he’ll also take the time to run his fingers through javier’s hair to detangle it as well, so that he’s even less likely to wake up to knots. javier adores it, teetering with the weight of his head and leaning hard into kieran’s legs on each side of his shoulders- sometimes kieran will even indulge himself in giving javier a head massage. javier never sleeps better, and coincidentally, he began forgetting to take his hair down a lot more after moving out to clemen’s point ….

• javier snuck kieran his first bowl of pearson’s stew after ‘making a social call’. john kicked kieran off his horse at the entrance of camp and javier watched as the latter dredged himself through the brush to what would become his usual resting place behind the rock by the horses. he looked miserable, dead on his feet, and javier knew by then he’d been weeks without a meal. he was a dirty, disloyal, unholy traitor of an o’driscoll, but something about his sunken eyes, the shake in his hand as he lit his first cigarette as a free man again- likely to quell off the hunger- it urged javier to act in a way that he’d never felt before. javier could kill a man in cold blood easier than he could stand to watch fear starve a man even after his hands are free to reach for the bowl. the study for learned helplessness in psychology will come years later, but javier understands himself now through watching kieran’s instinctual desire to survive be beat out of him by the gang javier dedicates his life to. with a healthy amount of spite to himself, he scoops a heaping amount of fresh stew into the cleanest bowl he can find, and sets out to add a fresh layer of flesh to kieran’s prominent bones.

• following this, cooking for kieran is one of javier’s favourite things to do when they get together. javier will cook for him traditional mexican dishes from home (as best he can. both with his limited skills and also with his limited accessibility to the proper ingredients. (probably for the best that he can’t get authentic chili peppers from home and has to use a less spicy chili native to this northern climate. kieran does okay with spice but it isn’t in his genetics to truly have a high tolerance.)) and not only will it be an unknown love language from javier, to feed kieran and make sure he is full, but it will also be a love language from kieran, to let javi share a piece of home with him.

• ^ also applies to modern au javieran ! javier loves cooking, and especially for kieran. they would cook together, but kieran struggles to cook with other people in the room, and javier gets so absorbed in it that he’d likely be running into kieran or otherwise being unhelpful in aiding in making sure the dish is being cooked correctly because he’s too Locked In to guide kieran LOL but they’re more happy to simply keep each other company, anyway. kieran on the counter/table/floor, watching javier sing and dance to the music he’s blasting from their speaker. cue dancing in the kitchen when the love songs come on (here’s a good one (rip javier escuella you would have loved dannylux)). the parallel play and quality time with these two is off the charts

• come mid/late clemens point, the way javieran make most of their money for the camp is by going on days-long fishing dates, laughing and laying close to one another in the grass under a tree on the riverbank in the shroud of darkness. they come back to camp flushed as all get out but with stacks of cash in their hands wadded up so thick no one dares to ask where it came from. kieran will get excited at even the smallest of fish, perking up and sharing/asking javier for tidbits on the species. they never miss a bite, either. one time one of the bells on their bobber rods rang once and they both broke out of a very hot and heavy make-out sesh so fast that javier tripped on kieran and nearly broke both of their wrists. they laughed so hard about it, javier was certain that by the time he arrived to his rod, the fish had already successfully ripped the bait off of his hook. he reeled in a boot, at the end of it all. he never lives it down.

• kieran is ambidextrous, and javier is fascinated by it. javier stumbled upon kieran writing on one rare occasion, and noticed immediately that he was writing with his left. “left handed, huh ?” kieran cocks his head at him in thought. javier wonders why on earth he would have to stop and think about a question like that. “uhh, not really ?” well, now javier is simply confused. “right, then ? is something wrong with your dominant hand ?” “um … no, that’s not it either …” and at this point, javier is demanding kieran explain what the hell he’s talking about, and why he’s pulling a prank on him. cue kieran explaining and javier making him do all kinds of silly “tests” like writing, shooting, playing guitar (as if kieran is going to any better with either when neither of them can do it right to begin with) because he finds it so cool.

• modern au kieran gets overstimulated incredibly easily, so he’s got a pair of noise canceling over-ear headphones that he often wears to dampen sensory input and ground himself when there’s a lot going on. when it’s cleaning day, generally no matter what he’s doing, he HAS to wear his headphones. javier is left to dodge him the same way he has to dodge the cats when they’re weaving in and out of between his feet. it also leaves him to dance to his own tunes when kieran suddenly swoops or sways or dips him to the music only he can hear- though just as often, javier will catch kieran dancing by himself and he will simply be unable not to join him, even though he can’t hear what it is he’s dancing to. as overwhelming as they can be, cleaning days for javieran somehow always end up feeling more like a date than anything.

• on a similar note, kieran also wears his headphones to bed, and listens to asmr/white noise to sleep. the pressure helps him feel safe, and the silence of a room makes him anxious. he also has a terrible bedhead and rbf in the morning. both of these things javier finds incredibly charming, and if he ever does wake up when/before kieran does (incredibly rare), this is his pov (right before he tries to kiss kieran’s face off and gets shoved away with a sleepy giggle that only bolsters his aggression);

nsfw under the cut !

and how could i resist a chance to finally talk about this ;3€ ?? i’ll try to keep them fluffy !

(context, i hc both of them as tguys usually (though im content with writing javier as amab too), with both of them being absolute, unabashed switches. they have little preferences anywhere in terms of bottoming/topping, though kieran has a preference for subbing, and javier has no qualms with domming more frequently.)

• as much raunchy, animalistic sex that javieran have, they have double as much slow, loving, tender sex. and most times between, they’re having raunchy, loving, animalistic sex.

• javi loves to turn kieran’s brain off, he loves more than anything to make kieran feel so overwhelmingly pleasured that he forgets everything that ever has, ever could, or ever will happen to him. nothing gets javier off quite like seeing the face of bliss kieran makes when all he can think about is javier’s mouth/hands/cock working overtime just to make him feel good.

• both of them i think are quite vocal when they’re able to be, and kieran tends to be vocal whether he’s supposed to be or not. both of them often dissolve into whimpers and “i love you”s and praise like “you feel/sound/taste so good” by the end. their love for each other has a carnal grasp on every aspect of their sex lives as well <3 so they’re always speaking so sweetly to each other, even if the way they growl it seems violent

• javier LOVES love bites. he loves to mark kieran up and he especially loves to bite and lick and suck on his neck, not only because of the primal aspect of his jugular being so close (as well as the warmth of his pulse thrumming against his mouth), but also because it arouses kieran to the point of making him shiver nearly every time. javier has permission to bite him hard, but it’s pretty rare that he ever does, and it’s only late into their relationship does javier feel like it will be more pleasure for him than it would just be pain. sometimes he can’t help it though, he’ll get so worked up that he just latches on and the way that kieran tightens around him is mind-numbing.

• unironically i think kieran is a GREAT soft dom, and that is something that javier generally had never experienced prior to getting with kieran. javi thinks it’s hot to be man-handled and roughed up, and kieran can do his very best (despite the constant guilt and fear) if javier is really feeling it, but where he really excels is soft domming. once the nerves melt off, he’s so gentle with javier that it makes the latter’s skin hot all over. constantly praising him, cooing at him, asking him nicely, rewarding him for good behavior, all the while touching him oh-so-gently, it all makes javier feel so awkward but so, so good. kieran makes him feel so loved and worshipped that the world in which he has anything to question simply just fades away, and all he has to think about is doing what meager tasks kieran asks of him.

• they find so much peace in each other’s bodies. in every rib and wrinkle and sunspot, these two will spend hours simply exploring and enjoying the body of the other in whatever the closest form of “privacy” they can manage to acquire. turns out, kieran has sunspots all over him. turns out, javier has a keloid scar on the back of his bicep. turns out, kieran has a mole on his scalp right where his part is (this is canon btw i saw it once when i was studying him in photo mode like a specimen in a petri dish), and javier has back dimples, and kieran’s ribs stutter and dance beautifully when he laughs, and the flex of javier’s thighs warps his skin like a marble statue. javier escuella and kieran duffy love like artists, and they spend hours just learning and looking and studying each other, like a painter with his muse, like a writer with his words, like the last things they want to see while they’re dying are all the hours they spent learning the beauty of the other.

i could honestly come up with more but it would never leave my drafts, so i hope u like these that i came up with as quick as i could :’) ! i hope you’re feeling better and have gotten some good rest !! thank you for the ask !!!!!

[shorlinesorrows]

just got the time to start the sunshine court and I'm Vibrating out of my skin

[erythristicbones]

having thoughts about a particular plot point that connects two of my otherwise unrelated stories and how incredibly fucking sad it makes me/how i wish i could not have it happen without completely altering the paths of said stories.....and then going "what if i just split it into two characters and sever the connection between them"

[prlssprfctn]

A big fan of crack-au, where UTRH goes wrong, and Bruce just accepts Jason back because he misses him, except for some reason he dreads telling all the story to kids, so now he just brings back home Red Hood without telling others that it is Jason. Jason is amused because of course he is... he has such a vast space for teasing the shit out of family.

Dick: Wait, WHAT? Dick: I know I said that Red Hood low-key was impressive, but it wasn't supposed to be an, uh, encouragement for adopting him? Tim: Screw that. Why is he still in his helmet? He is allowed to know who we are, but we are going to cover his identity? How is that fair? Bruce: Well. You see... Jason: I am not taking my helmet off. When I was a kid, Joker butchered my face. Tim, awkwardly: ...Okay, I see an adopting requirement is passed. Bruce: ...Tim, I don't have requirements for- Dick: Still sounds like bullshit to me. How old are you? Jason: Nineteen, fuck ass. Dick, instantly melting: OH MY GOD, IT IS A BABY CRIME LORD!

Bruce, sighing: Lad, I feel so guilty for lying to them Jason, shrugging: You weren't that guilty when you allowed this ugly memorial to stay in the Batcave. Bruce: ... Alfred: Good point. Bruce, frustrated: Al, you put it in the first place. Jason: He paid off by his Friday lasagna delivery to my doors. It is your turn. Bruce: *quiet sigh*

Jason, appearing out of nowhere behind Dick's back: So, I heard you have a dead brother. Dick: Jesus- What- Jason: You liked him much? Dick: What? Of course. I loved Jason, he was my baby. Why are you asking that? Jason, humming: No reason. Keep it up.

Tim: I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you, but I *will* get to the bottom of it. Also, your strange obsession with Jason is low-key weird. Jason, trashing out Tim's stalker stash: Really, what about yours? Tim: YOU MOTHERFUCKER-

Bruce: So... You feel better, Jason? Jason: Yep. Totally satisfied. Bruce, hopeful: So, about you being the crime lord- Jason: So, about admitting to your kids that I am not a rando? Bruce: ...Uhh. Never mind, you are doing great, sweetheart.

Dick, carrying groceries: Oh, come on. Red Hood is cute. He is just a little socially awkward, but overall? A baby. Tim, grunting, while opening the kitchen door: The nicest thing he had done was editing my last-minute essays. Overall, he can go and fuck himself. Jason, without a helmet, having a tea party with Alfred and Bruce in the kitchen: ... Dick and Tim: ... Bruce: ... Jason: Oh, fuck my life, since when you two know a road to the KITCHEN Dick: LITTLE WING? Bruce: I... I can explain. Tim: You sleazy motherfucker. I *knew* Babs deleted some footage from your cowl, I KNEW IT. Bruce: I CAN EXPLAIN! Dick, in tears: JAY. BABY. Jason, trying to escape the kitchen: I am just a hallucination. You didn't see a shit. Dick: No, you are not. Your hallucination sits on the counter, silly. Jason: ...The fuck? Bruce, catching Jason by the collar, whispering: Don't leave me alone there. Help me out. Say something to avert the attention. Jason, panicking: Uh Jason: By the way, we have another brother, he is a biological son of Bruce and Talia, and his name is Damian Everyone: WHAT Jason: Well. Bye. Jason: *jumps out of the window*

[apatheticsunday]

Dead Serious Oblivious Dating Trope

AKA "Damian thinks flirting/dating entails a lot more violence than the average person and Danny's confused as to why this vigilante keeps prepositioning him for battles" idea!

Okay, so, I know Damian went to live with Bruce when he was still a kid, 10 or something, but what if he joined the Batfam when he was older? Like imagine he's had an entire childhood and adolescence in the League of Assassins, so he's raised in this culture of being The Best (i.e., strongest fighter, intelligent and knowledgeable, etc.). And maybe the LoA typically follows the tradition of arranged marriages, but you may court someone if they're seen as an equal. Talia with Bruce, for example. And!! It's not courting like the "sweet serenading, fan-fluttering, going for a walk in a park with a chaperone" Bridgerton-type courting.

In the League of Assassins, you court by battling your intended's guardian to the death.

So, fast-forward to Damian learning how to assimilate into Gotham city culture. He still struggles to learn his place in the Batfam, but he's older and has a better grasp on his emotions; no trying to kill Tim, no constant threats of death and dismemberment, no jealously protecting the title of Heir. He's... kind of like Bruce actually. Damian is scarily competent, logical, and level-headed but super intense.

Danny, who's been living in Gotham for awhile and has gotten to know the Batfam fairly well, meets the newest addition while on patrol. Let's say he's still Phantom but cosplays as a Meta. Bruce let him stay in Gotham because he's a sucker for a black-haired, blue-eyed, abused kids.

Their introduction goes about as well as the Batfam expects. Damian is all business, only offering a quick nod and his name before returning his focus to patrol. Danny's maybe a bit taken aback but doesn't take it too personally since he'd already been given the rundown by Tim.

Damian and Danny end up patrolling together while Batman and Cass investigate some lead by the docks or something. Their night turns pretty badly when Clayface attacks. Damian ends up being the damsel in distress since he's only ever faced human enemies; even the deadliest opponents in the League could still be killed using swords or the usual combat weapons. Danny ends up using his powers to defeat Clayface before Batman can come back.

And then Danny goes home, content that he was able to let loose a little without Batman there to supervise him, and doesn't think about it after. Damian, however, is downright enamored because Danny was terrifying while fighting. His movements were lupine like a panther, a comfortability in his posture that spoke of decades in combat; his eyes turned Lazarus Pit green, chilling in its intensity. His skin took on a ghostly pallor and Damian could've sworn his teeth sharpened. He looked like a deity of War.

(Danny doesn't know this, of course; he was just happy to enjoy a really good fight since he hasn't unleased his Full Ghost powers in a long minute.)

A couple weeks pass and Danny's invited to a Wayne family dinner. Except when he shows up, Damian - who he thought he'd kind of bonded with since he'd literally saved the guy from Clayface - tries to kill him. Straight up: full assassin regalia, recently polished sword, genuinely throwing his all into the battle.

The Batfam try to intervene but Damian easily (and painfully, as Jason was flipped face-first into a table, Steph was stabbed, Dick broke his elbow) fought off. In the end, it was Danny who froze Damian and yelped a frazzled, "What the fuck, dude?" Bruce agreed to dethaw his son if he never, ever drew his sword at the dinner table again and explained why in the world he randomly attacked Danny unprompted.

Except Damian's response is to apologize and formally proposition Danny to a "battle to rights"... and the Batfam are all like, wtf?? What is that?? They're thinking maybe the rights to the Wayne inheritance, but Danny was never adopted by Bruce (he'd had enough of millionaires trying to adopt him so he'd politely declined all the Batfam's attempts to rope him into the family; Dick, Babs, and Jason of all people included).

The thing is that Danny's parents disowned him, he doesn't consider Vlad to be his guardian, and Jazz isn't really in the picture here. Bruce isn't considered his adopted father figure, either. So, Damian concluded the next reasonable course of action was to fight Danny for his right to marry him.

Cue months of hilarious misunderstandings where the Batfam try to keep Damian separated from Danny since he keeps trying to fight him... and worse, is that Damian loses every damn fight. Danny has non-human powers and endless knowledge of dead languages, cultures, space, history, etc. Damian likes him so, so much but he can't win the battle to rights and it's driving him insane!! He calls his mother to vent his frustrations and she only encourages him, tells him that he shouldn't want to marry someone he can beat so easily, that he picked his intended well.

It gets to the point where Damian's trying to use any and all knowledge of Danny's weaknesses. It just makes him more obsessed because there doesn't seem to be any (there are, but they aren't on Earth and/or are locked down in the Fenton Works labs, untraceable to anyone not in the GIW).

And Danny's just like, what the hell!! Why the hell is this guy targeting him over and over again? The worst part is that Damian is actually very intelligent and thoughtful - during their duels, they quip back and forth in ancient languages, discuss thought-proving topics, and when Danny beats him, they have a quiet moment to compliment each other's fighting styles. They discuss ancient history and art together. Damian is one of the few people who can actually match Danny's odd tidbits of random knowledge, as he'd been extensively educated while in the LoA.

Finally, Danny just asks, "Why do you keep trying to fight me?? Do you just hate me or something??" (He hopes not. Danny's starting to like Damian a bit too much, especially after their fights when Damian offers to cook him some of Alfred's most popular recipes. Danny's a terrible cook so he actually looks forward to having a surprisingly good meal, sans the attempted poisoning at times.)

And Damian just... stops. He's utterly flabbergasted and perhaps a little bit exasperated since it's been months of being unable to win the battle to rights. "Why would I request to court you if I hate you, habibi?"

Danny's like, "Huh???"

Damian explains how courting works in the LoA and why it's been on-sight ever since the Clayface fight. And everything just clicks for Danny!! He's also kind of... flattered? Like, he's never been wanted so badly that someone would fight to the death for him (Danny's just like "he's confused but he's got the spirit!" about the whole "if Danny doesn't have a guardian, I'll just fight him instead" logic).

So, he's like, "Of course, I'll date you!!"

It'd probably be an adjustment period since Damian's idea of a romantic date is watching his boyfriend go Full Ghost on supervillains. He'd just be heart-eyeing at him the entire time. And it's not like Danny's not having a good time!! He just expected there'd be more date-night activities and less patrol-night activities. So, Danny introduces Damian to more "regular" hobbies, like going to the zoo, movie nights, bookshop dates, etc.

(another side idea in my head is Damian introducing Danny to Talia and Ra's al Ghul, like, "This is Danny Fenton, my intended." But Danny is decked out in his Ghost King attire, crown included, and introduces himself as King of Infinite Realms, Space, and the Dead. Meanwhile his boyfriend is just looking at him with this look of utter besotted lovesick pride. There's so much potential!!)

[cameronsbabydoll]

ex!husband!rafe baby trapping you… again

warnings: manipulation, baby trapping, rafe being arrogant and condescending, explicit content 18+

wc: 1,643 — a/n: i went a little crazy with this but i’m kinda obsessed with ex!husband!rafe

you pull into the driveway of rafe’s ostentatious mansion, tires crunching on the pristine gravel, and already you’re irritated. the place is a monument to his ego—towering columns, a fountain that probably cost more than your car, and those floor-to-ceiling windows that scream look at me. it’s sunday, 6 p.m., and your son’s supposed to be packed and ready for pickup. except the house looks dead quiet—no little boy barreling out to tackle you with hugs. you grit your teeth, haul yourself out of the car, and stomp up to the door, banging on it with the side of your fist.

it swings open, and there he is—rafe cameron, your ex-husband, the human equivalent of a migraine you can’t shake. he’s leaning against the frame, white dress shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, showing off that infuriatingly sculpted torso. a glass of whiskey dangles from his fingers, ice clinking as he swirls it, and his lips twitch into that smug, lopsided grin that makes you want to slap him—or worse, kiss him.

“well, well,” he drawls, voice dripping with condescension. “look who’s gracing my doorstep. early, too. miss me that much, sweetheart?”

you glare, arms crossing tight over your chest. “where’s our son, rafe? don’t play games with me.”

he takes a slow, deliberate sip of his whiskey, letting the silence hang heavy just to mess with you. “oh, him? yeah, he’s at a sleepover. didn’t i mention that?” his brows lift, feigning innocence, but the glint in his eyes says he planned this down to the second.

“no, you didn’t,” you snap, voice rising. “you purposely didn’t, you manipulative—”

“easy, easy,” he cuts in, stepping aside with a lazy wave of his hand. “no need to storm off. come in. i’ve got dinner.”

you should turn around. you know you should. but then you smell it—garlic, rich tomato sauce, the unmistakable aroma of your favorite italian takeout from that little spot downtown you used to drag him to. your stomach betrays you with a growl, and rafe’s smirk widens, like he’s already won.

“got your usual,” he says, voice low and coaxing, stepping closer until you can feel the heat radiating off him. “figured you’d be starving after all that… hard work you do.”

it’s a dig—he’s always loved reminding you how “cute” your post-divorce life is compared to his empire of excess. you clench your jaw, but your feet move anyway, carrying you past the threshold. one dinner. that’s it. then you’re gone.

the takeout’s laid out on his ridiculous marble island, a spread that’s way too much for two people—pasta, bruschetta, tiramisu, the works. he pours you a glass of wine without asking, sliding it across the counter with a smug, “whiskey’s too harsh for you, princess. stick to what you know.”

you roll your eyes but take it, sipping just to prove a point. he’s lounging across from you, shirt still half-open, watching you eat like it’s a damn performance. one glass becomes two, then three, and soon you’re tipsy, the room softening around the edges. he’s telling some story about a client overpaying for a yacht, his voice all smooth and mocking, and you’re laughing despite yourself—because he’s still got that stupid charm that hooked you years ago.

“see?” he says, leaning closer, his knee brushing yours under the counter. “you’re always better off here. loosen up a little.”

his hand grazes your wrist when he refills your glass, lingering just long enough to send a shiver up your spine. you should pull away. you don’t. the wine’s buzzing in your veins, and he’s looking at you like you’re prey he’s been stalking for months—smug, hungry, knowing. before you can process it, he’s rounding the counter, tugging you off the stool with that effortless strength that always made you weak.

“c’mere,” he murmurs, voice dropping an octave, and then you’re in his arms, stumbling toward the master bedroom like it’s inevitable.

the bedroom’s all rafe—dark wood, crisp white sheets, a king-sized bed that’s probably worth more than your mortgage. he’s got you pinned against it in seconds, mouth crashing into yours, all teeth and heat and desperation. his hands roam everywhere—up your sides, gripping your hips, sliding under your shirt to yank it over your head with a rough, “off. now.”

you’re too far gone to fight it, hands fumbling with his shirt buttons until he just rips it open himself, smirking down at you like he’s doing you a favor. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he mutters against your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point. “always so needy for me, huh?”

“shut up,” you hiss, but it’s weak, and he knows it. his laugh is low and condescending, vibrating against your skin as he kisses down your collarbone, hands shoving your jeans down with zero patience. he’s pressing you back onto the bed, climbing over you, all broad shoulders and whiskey breath, and you hate how much you want this.

“look at you,” he says, voice thick with arrogance as he settles between your thighs, one hand pinning your wrists above your head. “divorced me, moved out, and you’re still right back here. couldn’t stay away, could you?”

you glare up at him, but he just grins, dragging his free hand down your stomach, slow and deliberate, until he’s pressing hard against your lower abdomen. “gonna give me another one,” he murmurs, eyes dark and locked on yours. “you’re mine, always will be.”

there’s no condom in sight—he doesn’t even pretend to reach for one—and you don’t stop him, too caught up in the heat of his mouth on yours, the way he’s kissing you like he owns you. he’s rough, relentless, sliding into you with a groan that’s pure smug satisfaction, like he’s proving a point. “fuck, you feel good,” he breathes, hips snapping against yours, deep and possessive. “knew you’d come running back.”

his hand stays on your stomach, pressing down just enough to make you gasp, and he smirks against your lips. “gonna fill you up, princess. make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.” he’s going harder now, all control and condescension, whispering filthy praise in your ear—“so fucking perfect for me,” “gonna look so good carrying my kid again,”—until you’re a trembling mess beneath him, clinging to his shoulders as he pushes you over the edge.

he follows right after, burying himself deep with a low, “that’s it, take it,” and you’re too blissed out to care about the consequences, lost in the haze of him—his weight, his scent, his infuriating victory.

—

you wake up alone, sheets tangled around your legs, head throbbing like a drum. the room’s too quiet, and there’s a note on the nightstand in rafe’s sloppy handwriting: “work called. coffee’s in the kitchen. you’re welcome. — r” you groan, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow, cursing yourself for last night. how does he always do this?

you drag yourself to his stupidly huge shower—marble, rainfall heads, the works—muttering about his overpriced body wash and the fact that you’re even here. you dig through his closet after, finding that old sundress of yours shoved in the back—floral, faded, a ghost of your pre-divorce life. it barely fits, clinging to your hips, and you hate how it makes you feel soft for him all over again.

you’re stomping around his mansion now, checking your son’s room—his little clothes are neat, toys in place, and it only fuels your grumbling. “fucking rafe,” you mutter, glaring at that gaudy gold lamp in the hall. “thinks he’s so fancy with his dumb rich-guy shit.” you don’t know he’s watching—sprawled in his office chair downtown, feet up, smirking at his phone as the security feed catches every word. he zooms in on you tugging at the dress, muttering about his “pretentious bullshit,” and he chuckles to himself. “still feisty,” he says, sipping his coffee. “love that about you.”

you leave in a huff, determined to put last night behind you. work’s a blur—meetings, emails, pretending you’re not replaying every second of rafe’s hands on you—and by the time you pull into your driveway, your cozy little house feels like a sanctuary. until you see him.

rafe’s leaning against his range rover, parked right in your spot, arms crossed, a handful of designer shopping bags at his feet. he’s in a crisp polo now, looking every bit the smug bastard he is, and that grin’s back—wide, knowing, maddening.

“what the hell are you doing here?” you snap, slamming your car door so hard it echoes.

he doesn’t flinch, just straightens up, sauntering over with the bags. “brought a little something for our newest addition.” he nudges the bags toward you—chanel onesies, a prada blanket, a tiny leather jacket that’s absurdly expensive. “gotta start ‘em young, right?”

your heart stops. “what are you talking about?”

he steps closer, crowding you against your car, voice dropping to that slow, patronizing drawl. “c’mon, sweetheart. you’re late, aren’t you? two weeks, by my count. don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

you freeze, mind spinning. the dates line up—last night, the wine, the no-condom recklessness—and your stomach twists. he sees it, the realization dawning, and his smirk turns downright triumphant.

“yep,” he says, popping the p like an asshole, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “guess i still got it. you and me? we’re a package deal, princess.” he leans in, lips grazing your ear as he whispers, “should’ve known you’d never really leave.”

you want to shove him, scream, anything—but he’s already strolling past you, bags in hand, letting himself into your house like it’s his. “where should i put these?” he calls over his shoulder, all casual arrogance. “nursery’s upstairs, right?”

and the worst part? you’re standing there, keys dangling uselessly, wondering how he’s still got you wrapped around his finger—and if you even mind.