#you may be asking 'erm how do they get to this point?'

[billymarvel]

I like to imagine that, in a world where Billy has revealed his identity to the league, he gets invited to hero events or things similar BUT there are days he doesn't turn up as Cap. Instead, it's just him with a mask on, possibly an outfit without any brand names on it, and also perhaps a small cape. People think there's a new young hero-in-training, but no. It's just Billy, Captain Marvel, someone who's been in the scene for years. He just wanted the ability to sit on Diana's shoulders for the day. Maybe next month he'll do the same thing but on Superman's shoulders, instead.

[shepscapades]

GLAD EVERYONE ENJOYED THE ANDROID INFO UPDATE ABOUT INTERFACING DFGJNDGKGNMXGHNCBNM

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello hello!! I was not expecting requests to be open again so fast, but i am DEVOURING your writing, so i shan't complain!

What about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other mild exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes despite the persisting horrors.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Awe thanks! Have a good day/night too!

.......

"You..you're Poppy's angel..come to save us-"

"Eugh..what the hell happened to you?"

While back in the day, Dogday would've scolded you for using profane language...he finds it understandable considering you discovered him in his....erm..current condition.

The initial shock of seeing him would have anybody from outside the factory deeply disturbed.

But he's surprised that you're not fully freaked out and didn't run away.

Instead you manage to get him out of the Playhouse (while curbstomping a few little critters who tried crawling into his body along the way) and found a safe spot to rest.

Despite his insistence that you should leave him, you point out that he mentioned you saving him earlier.

"When you said "us", I thought that included you, too."

"I-I meant the others. The ones who can still walk..and still have a fighting chance. Look at me, kid. All I'm gonna do is weigh you down."

"....I mean, you are kinda heavy. But I've lifted worse with this grabpack. I got you."

He's confused by how oddly calm you are about everything.

If you were able to get down this far in the facility, you would've had to cross paths with Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, and Miss Delight at some point.

By all accounts, you definitely should've been traumatized at least from seeing all the bloody toys laying around.

Yet you're cool as a cucumber as you try your best to fix him (with assistance from Kissy, Ollie, and Poppy, of course, who are stunned you came out of the Playhouse alive)

Dogday remembers how scared the children were during the Hour of Joy, comforting them as he helped them flee the terror...so to be comforted by a kid now felt strange.

Yet your calm demeanor helps ground him whenever he starts to have a panic attack over Catnap finding him or if he feels like a critter or two is already inside of him, trying to take hold and eat whatever organs he had remaining (but it's just a sensation he feels from time to time).

You snap him out of it by asking rather silly questions.

"What if I stuck a flare in your mouth? Would that deter them?"

"...what? Um...I-I suppose that could work, but hopefully it's not a theory we have to test anytime soon.."

Even if Poppy decided to show you the Hour of Joy tape (which he had to look away from and tried persuading you to do the same), your only reaction is a slight grimace and a simple "damn wtf....you guys think any of those workers were running late or didn't go in that day?"

Dogday is shocked you'd joke at a time like this...but she knows you better and tells him you're just like That(tm).

You do care about them. You do wanna destroy the Prototype and save whoever you can along the way--including him.

It just may take some time for him to get used to your personality.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You walk along the halls of the garishly large house. You suppose anything compared to your apartment is huge. Former apartment? You mourn the loss of your previous life as it starts to sink in. No long distracted by the bristly mustache of its delightful effect on you, you can’t help but descend slowly into despair. 

You narrow your eyes at the fabric strained over shoulders blades in front of you. All he had to do was say please and be polite. He couldn’t even give you his order then blamed you for not knowing.

How on earth are you supposed to know who he is? It isn’t your fault no one told you. Now you’re starting to get mad at them too. Bre really put you in it, didn’t she?” 

“Are you growling?” Lloyd asks over his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. 

“At me?” He snickers. 

“No... I should,” you grumble, “so, did you think about that sweater? Maybe a blanket? My nipples are so hard, they’re starting to hurt.” 

He stops and turns to face you. You walk straight into him and he grabs your shoulders, pushing you back to stand at arm’s length. He looks you up and down with a squint, his mustache slanting with his mouth. 

“I don’t negotiate but if I give you a blanket, do you promise to stay out of the way?” 

“Sir, if you opened the front door at this very moment, you would never see me again.” 

“Noted,” he says grimly, “go in here and stay.” He points to the door next to him as he releases you, turning the handle slowly, “don’t break anything. There should be a blanket, just don’t get too cozy.” 

“If I may, I think we would both be much happier if you let me go. Look at it this way, you got your rocks off, I got mine jangled, and now we both know a lot more about ourselves. You don’t have to ever see me again--” 

“Be quiet,” he reaches to pinch your lips shut, “Christ Almighty, you don’t shut the fuck up.” 

You try to talk past his fingers but just make a weird noise between your sealed lips. You shrug and raise your hands in surrender. He lets you go and sighs, waving through the open door. 

“Shutting fuck up,” you lift a hand in a salute and he quickly smacks it down. You shake your fingers out and hiss, “ow.” 

“Stop doing that,” he demands. 

“Fine,” you make a face and turn past him. At this point, you don’t care. This house is too cold and you don’t think he’ll take your advice about his central air bill. Looks like he can afford it, even if the ozone might suffer. “Erm, thanks?” 

“Whatever,” he grabs the door and shuts it behind you with a snap. 

You turn to it as you hear the lock click. His footsteps march off swiftly and you wiggle the handle. Drats. You could try a window but you’re hardly equipped for the descent. 

You face the room and look around. It’s nice. For New Jersey, which this isn’t. Amid the golden lamps, the velvet chaise, and the safari statues, a fluffy leopard print throw calls your name. You bound over to the clamshell chair and swipe it up, wrapping your shivering figure in the faux fur. At least you hope it’s not real. How would Floyd like it if someone skin his lip for, er, well... what could you even do with that? 

You sit and bask in the warmth. Oh, you almost feel human. If you didn’t smell of sweat and sex. What a pervert!  

It’s all so twisted the more you think of it. Worse is how much you enjoy it. Even if he’s a big dodo head, you have to admit, he knows what he’s doing. Well, compared to you, who doesn’t? You’ve seen it all but haven’t done so much. 

You peer around. It’s really tempting to play with that wooden tiger figurine or that metal orby thing with all the rings. You close your eyes and resist. How can he put you in this room and expect you not to go wild. Literally. It’s like being in a jungle. You gave him the benefit of the doubt about the mustache but this room alone assures you he’s living in some 70s exploitation fantasy. 

You curl up on your side in the chair and sigh. You close your eyes and think. This morning, everything was normal. Kind of. You almost long for the beginning of the spiral now that you’re spinning in it.

How long is he going to keep you here? And what happens after? Do you get your money back? Your apartment? Definitely, not your dignity. 

You don’t remember falling asleep but it’s a happy relief until consciousness breaks through like a nail through paper. You wake up with a lurch and nearly fall out of the chair, gaping up at the blue eyes boring down into you. You give Floyd with no F a sheepish smile. 

“Oh, hello, sir,” you sit up cautiously, “I’m happy to report I kept my hands to myself.” 

“You snore. Loud.” 

“Ah, well, I’ve had quite the day. I guess I really needed a nap--” 

“Get up,” he grabs you by the back of the neck and forces you to your feet. 

“Ow, eek,” you pull at his wrist, “did your meeting go okay?” 

“Why the fuck do you care?” He snarls. 

“I don’t, I was being polite,” you try to wriggle free, “judging by the attitude, it didn’t--” 

“What the fuck do you know about my business?” He snips. 

“As much as I wanna know. Nada,” you roll your eyes and manage to break free. “Ouch, bro.” 

“Bro?” He grimaces. 

“Dude, sir, whatever,” you huff and catch the blanket as it slips, “I’ve been nothing but nice, you know, but you’re starting to piss me off.” 

“I’m pissing you off?” He tilts his head and crosses his arms, “you--” 

“Got it. You can’t stand me but it didn’t stop you from diving into my southern hemisphere,” you sniff. 

The air roils with his agitation. You hug yourself defiantly as you cling to blanket and stare him in the face. He looks down at you, bringing a hand up to rub his chin. He sucks his teeth and reaches with his other hand to yank the blanket away. You cry out, hanging onto it as he lurches you.  

The blanket stretches between you in a tug-of-war. He nearly takes you of your feet as he gives it a hefty pull. You hold onto it, planting your feet but he easily keeps hold of his end. You use all your strength to add to the tension and as you see him go to yank again, you let go.

Lloyd staggers back as the blanket drops from his grasp. He flails and hits the chaise, crashing over it as he bounces off the cushion onto the other side. He groans as his feet remain atop the velvet. You inch over to look at him, his shoulders to the floor as his face strains. 

“You stupid little bitch,” he growls. 

“Sir,” you bite down on a smile as you stand over him, “why are you so mad? You won.” 

[darkness-and-books]

Not Invited

Egon Spengler x fem!reader

⚠️: none

word count: 734

Egon had blanked out quite some time ago, utterly entranced by the girl in a booth at the other end of the chinese restaurant. She was sitting by herself reading a book as she waited for her food to arrive. He had seen her smile brightly as the waiter came to take her order, and that smile was breathtaking.

“Dude, what are you staring at? It’s been five minutes,” Ray asked, snapping Egon out of his trance, “Uh, what?” Egon asked, tinting pink at having been caught. Peter followed Egon’s gaze to the girl and smirked. “Not a what, a who,” He teased, Peter and Ray exchanged a knowing look.

“It’s nothing, I was just thinking,” Egon rushed to explain, “Yeah, I’d be thinking about her too, she’s real pretty,” Winston said as he glanced over to the girl who was now getting her food. “You should go talk to her,” Peter encouraged him, “Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Winston tacked onto Peter’s statement.

“She could hear me,” Egon muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Okay,” Peter said in what seemed to be a surrender. Everyone at the table sat in shocked silence for a minute at how quickly Peter dropped it. 

Peter excused himself to use the bathroom before standing up and leaving the table. What no one at the table knew was that he was actually making a beeline for the girl in the booth. On his way over he stopped a waiter, “Hey could you tell the people at that table that there’s a call for Winston and Ray?” he requested and the waiter nodded curtly and made his way to their table. He continued on his way.

“Hello,” Peter greeted the girl kindly, “I’m Peter,” he introduced himself. She looked up from her book, “Oh, hi, I’m Y/N,” She replied quietly. Peter looked over his shoulder to see Egon alone at the table, “I was wondering,” He started, pointing in Egon’s direction, “You see my friend over there?” He asked her, “Well yes,” She said skeptically. “He thinks you’re really pretty and I was wondering if you’d like to switch seats with me and sit with him,” Peter explained in a hushed tone.

Y/N looked up at Peter with a raised eyebrow, “There are other people around, it’s not like I’m asking you to the back alley,” He pleaded with her. She seemed convinced by this reasoning, “Okay,” Y/N agreed and picked up her plate, “Thanks, you won’t regret it,” Peter assured her, “That remains to be seen,” she said before leaving the table.

Y/N walked nervously to Peter’s friend, who upon further inspection, was really quite handsome. “Hi,” Y/N greeted as she came to a stop in front of him. Egon’s eyes widened and looked as though they might actually fall out of his head, “Erm, hello,” he managed, looking around to see that she indeed had to be talking to him.

“I’m Y/N,” She said as she put down her plate and sat across from Egon in the booth. “Hello Y/N, I’m Dr. Egon Spengler,” He said, putting out his hand for a handshake and feeling like an idiot in the process. It’s not like this some formal event, why couldn’t he just be normal? He asked himself.

“Oh, a Doctor, fancy that,” Y/N said with a giggle, “Glad you think so,” Egon smiled and began looking for a waiter. As one walked by, he gestured him over to the table, “May I have a glass of water and whatever she has?” Egon asked the waiter, who briefly looked at Y/N’s dish before scribbling it on his notepad and walking away.

Ray and Winston walked back out to see that their place at the table had been taken by the girl Egon had been eyeing just a few minutes before. “Good for him,” Ray muttered while Winston looked for Peter. Peter was waving them over to the table where the girl had been sitting when they left.

“This,” Winston started, pointing at the table where Egon and the girl sat, “Was your doing, wasn’t it?” Winston accused more than he asked. “Of course,” Peter said, smiling proudly as he sat up a little straighter. “Go on have a seat, I have a feeling we aren’t invited to dinner,” He commented cooly as he opened up a menu.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 28 - Poorly Timed Confession

@wolfstarmicrofic May 28, word count 764

I wasn't planning on a part two of Prompt 24 - Interrupted Declaration of Love but here it is. I hope you all enjoy xx

When Sirius had caught sight of Remus out of the corner of his eye last week, he’d jumped out of his skin. He’d yelped at him. An actual yelp, like a dog! The cringe he’d felt after Remus had fled the room to get away from him was beyond anything he'd ever felt before. 

He was such a mess. He’d been watching a video on how to tell your best friend that you are in love with them, when Remus had come in. Gods he hoped Remus hadn’t seen the screen. He let his head drop into his hands and let out a moan. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Remus didn’t reappear until it was time for dinner. 

“What do you fancy?” Sirius asked, not daring to look at him.

“W-w-what?” Remus stuttered. Sirius’s eyes snapped up at his friend's odd behaviour. Remus was bright red. 

“For dinner. What do you want to eat?” He clarified. 

“Oh. Erm, whatever you want. You know me, I’ll eat anything.” He flashed Sirius a quick grin. Sirius opened his phone and the video he’d been watching earlier began to play, the sound coming from his phone speaker now that his earphones were safely in their box. 

“If you’re nervous, sometimes it can be easier to pick a time to do it and that way you can prepare yourself,” Sirius fumbled with his phone, nearly dropping it on the wooden floor. He managed to shut the video so it wouldn’t give him away. Although the video had a point. Maybe he should pick a time to tell Remus and then build himself up to do it. 

“Chinese? We can get a couple of mains to share and the mixed appetisers. Chicken satay and Beef Szechuan?”

“Sounds good,” Remus nodded. 

They sat on separate furniture while they ate. Remus in his armchair and Sirius on the sofa. Sirius could barely taste his food. He wanted so badly to tell Remus how he felt, but he was so afraid that he’d reject him and move out to live with Lily or one of his other friends. He didn’t even know what they were watching. 

“Are you done?” Remus asked.

“Huh?” Sirius had zoned out as he went over and over all the different ways Remus could reject him. “Oh, yeah, thanks.” He passed his half-eaten food over to Remus’s waiting hand. He heard Remus dump everything in the kitchen and call out goodnight before disappearing back into his room. Sirius repeatedly hit the back of his head into to soft sofa cushions behind him. “Why. Can’t. You. Just. Do. It?!” He said with each bash. Sighing resignedly, he went to bed, thoughts of Remus still dancing in his head. 

“Just do it, Sirius. Trust me, just do it.” James told him on FaceTime, while Sirius paced back and forth across his bedroom. He’d been forced to tidy the floor as he’d tripped over the same discarded t-shirt three times. Then he’d not been able to stop cleaning, so his bedroom was tidier than it had been in months. 

“But what if he says no and moves out?” He whined. 

“Then at least you’ll know,” James replied solemnly. 

Sirius walked hurriedly out of his room without even hanging up on James. It’s now or never, he told himself as he burst into Remus’s bedroom without knocking. He screwed his eyes shut and proclaimed. 

“Remus, I have feelings for you, I want to be with you. Will you please go out with me?!” Silence. 

“Er, sorry everyone, I’m gonna need a minute.” Sirius opened his eyes and saw Remus sitting at his computer desk while he conducted one of his online classes. Thirty students had just heard him confess his heart out to their Professor. Not good. 

Remus muted and turned his camera off before dragging Sirius from his room by his hand. 

“Remus, I’m so sorry, I—” Remus cut him off with a kiss. Sirius’s heart skipped a beat. “Remus, I-I-I,” He stuttered before Remus kissed him again, and again and again. 

He pulled away smiling. 

“Right I have to go and sort out those gossip mongers, thanks for that, by the way, but after we’re going to sit down and talk, okay?” Sirius slipped down the wall grinning like a goon. “Oh and the answer is yes, I will go out with you.” Remus’s grin was almost as bad as Sirius’s as he slipped back into his bedroom. 

“YES!!!” Sirius yelled and heard thirty people cheer over Remus’s computer and poor Professor Lupin trying in vain to quieten them all back down. 

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

CHARLES XAVIER IS HOT? -WADE

Logan howlett x reader

-

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE SPOILERS!!! AND DAYS OF FUTURE PAST BUT I CAN ONLY HOPE EVERYONE HAS SEEN THAT.

-

Warnings: erm idk. Kinda a short one. All will make sense soon. God help me. Major Canon divergence

-

When i first joined the x-mansion as a student, Charles Xavier was old. Though I had heard from plenty of people who knew him as a young adult that he was rather good looking.

I refused to think of my old and wrinkly professor in that way. Mostly because he'd see it and be absolutely horrified I assume.

-

"Logan, I don't think there's anyone here," I stated as he approached the mansion.

Covered in vines and surrounded by rotting timber and splintering trees, the x mansion had Definitely seen better days.

"It's not looking likely that's For sure" he replied.

"Do you guys think Happy Wheels will be here? God I wanna see that old fucker"

Wade was trying to be funny, but Logan and I just glared at him and kept walking. The door to the mansion was rotting and chipping away.

"I think we're in the past" I said, guessing mostly.

Logan pushed open the door gently, and inside stood one man. He was raggedy and bearded.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked the stranger.

"My name is Charles Xavier," he stated, "the real question is who are you? All of you"

"Ho-ly fuck! Charles Xavier is hot?" Wade Gasped loudly with his hands to his mouth

"Was" Logan corrected

"I don't knooooow. I'd let old rolly hit it too"

Me and logan both made disgusted noises.

-

🧠

When Xavier first learnt, I could also use telepathy. It was when I tried to kill Jean. He stopped me and told me to find him in the office.

He tried to help me control it and tried to help me let it get under control so that I wouldn't go insane. But I did. I went crazy, and I would scream and cry and yell and rattle the walls.

And then, one day, without any warning.

It stopped.

I never rattled another wall again

-

"So, you're all from the future?" Charles furrowed his eyebrows.

"More or less, yeah, we're not supposed to be here" Logan spoke.

Well, we have been here before technically. We're just a bit out of time. I scratched my neck awkwardly.

"We didn't necessarily come here to find you. We just have to get back home" I said to charles

Wade's mouth was still agape. "Jesus, you are gorgeous, aren't you?" He was close and personal with Charles, he might as well have been inside his skin.

"Jesus man, have you ever heard of personal space or decency?" Charles scoffed and stood up, walking away from wades perverse self.

"And turn those fucking thoughts off" Charles groaned and pointed to Wade.

"Listen. I know how crazy we are from the future sounds. But to make things worse, you're also a professor in the future, and you teach" I pointed to me and Logan "us"

"I can't help you guys, i don't know what to do" Charles shrugged.

-

Why do you stick by him?

You love him, don't you?

-

🧠

By far, my weirdest interaction in the TVA was when i met a variant of Xavier, and he seemed to know me quite well. He could name my favourite colour, food, even my favourite candle and my favourite animal.

Upon closer inspection, i saw a ring on his finger. Sparkling gold with a small blue gem. I didn't bother to ask what the blue meant, I only knew that my ring on my finger was the same.

It became clear then that this was a Xavier variant I may have married in a way distant universe.

I called for the immediate expulsion of the variant instantly after.

-

Don't let him go

Do it I dare you

You love him

You love him

You love him

He's not yours

You can't do this

Don't do this

Don't do it

It's not right

-

"Charles?" I said.

It was nighttime. We were forced to take shelter in the mansion as we knew we had nowhere else to go.

"Yes?" The bearded man turned to me

"Can you do me a favor?"

-

[starlightshadowsworld]

Heroes of Olympus but when Jason returns to Camp Jupiter, he's pissed.

He doesn't cower at the sight of his camp but stands taller. A steelness in his eyes no one at Camp Half Blood has ever seen before.

But one those in Camp Jupiter know all to well.

"Twelth Leigion Fulminata, stand at attention."

He doesn't even need to raise his voice as every single Roman demigod stops what their doing to look at him.

The only thing on their faces is fear.

"Oh would you look at that, you do know how to follow orders." Says Jason, strolling forward and.

Two centurions scramble to get a seat for him, Jason sits down nodding in thanks and dismissing them.

"Does anyone care to explain, just what the fuck has been going on here in my absence?"

Octavian raises a hand and Jason snorts.

"Augur, why am I not suprised? The floor is yours."

Octavian nods, a grin on his face and began to explain what had occurred.

All the while Jason listens, his expression giving nothing away. When Octavian finished, Jason sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

"If there's one thing I can't tell you idiots off its for making my life boring. Your dismissed...actually one last thing Augur?"

Octavian paused, turning back around to face Jason. "Yes, sir?" Jason frowned "wipe that smug look off your face before I do it for you."

Octavian went pale, all traces off amusement gone from his face.

"Thank you. Your dismissed, get out of my sight." Octavian left without a second word.

"Jason"

"Praetor Ramirez-Arellano"

Reyna winced, and she wasn't the only one. Jason never called her by her title unless they were in the Senate.

He was hurt.

"Do tell me, has Augur Octavian missed anything in his explanation?" Reyna shook her head, for as pretentious as he was Octavian had spoken the truth.

Jason rose to his feet.

"Oh but he did, he neglected to mention that there were 3 Praetors standing before us. Now, unless the rules have changed their are only supposed to be 2."

Jason looked past Reyna, his gaze resting on Percy who waved awkwardly. "State your name."

Percy, feeling very much like he was intruding in on something answered him. "Percy Jackson."

Recognition flashed in Jason's gaze, and he softened momentarily. "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon? Formerly apart of this Camp?" He asked, gesturing to his orange Camp Half Blood top.

"Yup."

Jason nodded "apologises, Jackson. Your friends and I traveled here, you may wait in the Senate. I will release them to you momentarily." Percy grinned "thanks, erm... Sorry about all of this I really didn't know."

Jason held up a hand "that's quite alright, you are not at fault for this." Percy left and Jason's smile vanished.

"Tell me, when did the Senate allow for a new Praetor to be reinstated? And why someone so new? I'd get if it was due to an it emergency field promotion, but that wasn't the case."

He couldn't even look at her and it hurt.

"I thought you were dead, Jason.

Jason laughed, but there was no humour in it. It sent chills down everyone's spines.

"Really? Than please, show me the search parties, point me to the evidence you collected that bought you too such a conclusion. For that matter, where's my funeral pyre?"

Jason shook his head, anger and sadness in his eyes. "Don't bullshit me. You didn't think I was dead, you didn't even look. And frankly I don't think you cared too."

He looked Reyna in the eye. "You replaced me, with a Greek. I get shit for being named after a Greek hero, but none of you had a problem with this. You wanted to replace me, Reyna. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."

He shook his head, turning his back on her.

"Jason, wait I-"

"We have several guests at our gate that we need to welcome. I've already had their weapons checked but you've proven how little you trust my authority so you might want to hurry up on that."

And with that he left to the Senate.

Jason swapped his outfit with Percy who apologised once again.

"Really man, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. My Leigion had been trying to get rid of me since the day I showed up. Unfortunately for them, I'm more valuable alive than dead." Explains Jason, Percy frowned.

"Well, fuck em." He grinned when Jason laughed in suprise. "You are definitely something else, Jackson." Percy grinned wider "see you're learning fast. I think we'll be good friends you and I."

Jason raised an eyebrow "you sure? Most of my friends stab me in the back." Percy nodded, a sincerity in his eyes that made Jason almost believe he wouldn't.

It felt too good to be true.

"Well, I'll just have to prove you wrong." Percy put a hand out "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon and former Praetor." Jason shook his hand. "Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and current Praetor."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

[hyperfixat]

literally no excuse for why this took so long. i wasn't having fun with this chapter because i want argenti and gallagher to show up arleady. also i remember writing the start of this around when huohuo got released. so erm. shes oldddd

next chapter should be more fun as it will involve my lovely husbandwife (argenti) and i love him. also maybe sampo will be there. i was struiggling with him this chapetr. as usual with these big chapters; formatted on my pc. sorry if she looks funny

< prev .. meme intermission .. next >

** Written PRE 2.1 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcanons. Outline written with the intent (and at the time) of being placed around 1.4’s Topaz introduction.  Written over the course of months, some details may be incorrect.  Also warning there is some “crossdressing” in this chapter.  The person identifies and is a man, dressed in women’s clothing as part of a disguise.  When dressed like this he is referred to using they/them pronouns.  I don’t really know much about “crossdressing” or if I should even call it that, but as a trans person I don’t find this portrayal offensive in any way, but that’s my two cents as the author.  Long story short man dresses as a woman as part of a disguise.  It is not a big deal.  Trans rights!! 

The cold air of the Outlying Snow Plains is starkly different from the warm comfort of the Astral Express.  Mr Yang lent you a spare coat, but you still shiver in the icy air.  Pompom parked the Express near the Bud of Memories Calyx.  You’re fascinated by the golden glow of the… you’re not even sure what to think of it as, but the shine is enthralling.

Dan Heng tugs you along, “we’re not here for that.  Let’s get to the city.”

The Administrative District is more beautiful than you’d expected.  There’s the bustling of city life; shop owners calling out and advertising their wares, there’s people and families walking along and shopping.  The shine of the Geomarrow heaters attract stray citizens, taking breaks from their travels, conversing over the warmth.  March has looped her arm through yours and she, Caelus, and Dan Heng form a little square as you begin your search.

“So, who are we looking for first?” She asks.

“Bronya, and hopefully Gepard.” Dan Heng answers for you, the two of you having formed a loose plan and order.

Your group approaches the large government building where Bronya should be.  The guards let you in, giving you a warning that Lady Bronya has a guest from the IPC.

You hide your frown, having onwen you walk in and see a woman with a short gray bob with red streaks and a warp trotter you know instantly she’s intended to be playable.  You tug March to a stop, making the two behind you still as well.

“She’s a part of this as well.” You say quietly, as to not draw the Supreme Guardian and her guests’ attention. 

“Eh? How can you be so sure?” March glances at you then eyes up the IPC agent.  

That makes you furrow your brows, is her stand-out outfit not as eye-catching as it is to you? Her hair and outfit scream playable character.

“Look at her.” You respond, and Caelus next to you nods, narrowing their eyes.

“She feels different compared to the average person we come across.”

“She is different,” Dan Heng points out.  “That’s an IPC worker, and a pretty high ranking one by the looks of her.”

“Not in that way-,” Caelus is forced to snap his mouth shut as Bronya notices your party.

She looks tired, but smiles at the four of you, waving you over.  “Astral Express Crew, what brings you to Belobog?”

The silver-red haired agent has turned her back on you, using a piece of IPC tech to report her report, or whatever it is IPC workers do.

“Bronya!” March starts off jovially.  “Can you spare the time for a meeting later on? I promise it’s important.” 

The four of you manage to convince the Supreme Guardian to meet you at the Underworld border later on in the day.  You looked for a moment to speak to that IPC worker, but she’d slipped away at some point during your conversation with Bronya. 

On your way to Serval’s workshop you spot her, Gepard, and Lynx.  The three siblings are standing outside of the museum Pela manages, talking over one another all seeming to be discussing the pamphlet in the youngest Landau sibling’s hand.

“If we follow the guided tour–” “We’ve done the guided tour a million times before, Serval!” “They’re constantly adding new Relics!”  Lynx is looking rapidly between the pair, before promptly folding the pamphlet up when they see your group. The sudden action causes Serval and Gepard to look up as well, before their faces brighten at the sight of you.

“Trailblazers! It’s good to see you!” Serval steps away from the group, wrapping an arm around March’s (and your’s by proxy) shoulder in a loose hug.

“Trailblazers!” Gepard nods at your group, a hint of a blush on his face.  Lynx gives your group a wave, a tight (but friendly) smile on their face.

It doesn't take much work to convince the Landaus to meet you later on, and before you know it Pela, Seele (who you ran into on her way to see Bronya), and Luka (on a trip for some Overworld groceries) all have been rounded up and agreed to meet you later.  It’s a short trip to the underworld where you need to find Natasha, Clara and Svarog, and Hook.  You’re not sure if Sampo is even, like, not imprisoned.  You told the group he’s a part of the group of people you need to gather, but he’s slippery, and you’ll only be able to catch him if he wants to be caught.

Natasha and Hook happen to be together in the clinic, which is another convenience for you. The two of them agree to meet you (Hook had demanded you pay for Pitch Dark Hook the Great’s time, which was easily bought with the promise of snacks at the meeting).

You hardly have the time to admire these characters you adore; the age lines on Natasha’s face, the way her long hair is tied back messily, the smooth texture of her clothes that only comes with that of a clothing iron and time.  Not to mention Hook is adorable, the way her clothes are covered in soot, and her serious pout that makes it hard not to coo at her.

The last destination you need to find is the Robot Settlement, which (with luck) is where Clara and Svarog are.

The security robots recognize March, you aren’t sure how as you see no camera or other sensory detectors on them, but when March approached, they  opened.  Svarog is standing in the exact spot he does in-game, the smack middle of the concrete platform.  His singular red eye lights up and scans over your party.

“Trailblazers,” his scan covers your form, once, then twice.  “Unknown guest.”

You offer an awkward wave.

“Is Clara around?” Caelus asks.

“Negative, Clara is visiting the Outlying Snow Plains.” “Oh? Why is that?  Is she alone?” March worries.

“Pascal requires a specific core that only is found in buried ruins.  She insisted.  She has guards, she is safe.”

“Hm, we’ll have to go find her.” Dan Heng decides.  “March will you accompany me?”

“Huh?” March looks at him.  “What?”

Svarog’s eye lights up and scans over the two of them, observing the situation.  Caelus laughs, trying to clear the air. “I’ll stay here with you and talk to Mr Svarog, okay?”  They squeeze your hand kindly and March is pulled away with Dan Heng to find the little girl.

Snow crunches and eventually the sound fades away before Svarog breaks the ice.

“You wish to speak with me?”

“Yes, we wish to speak with you,” Caelus gives a charming smile.  You attempt to mirror the smile, unsure of if your charming human smiles could work on the robot.

“What do you know of as the truth of this world, Svarog?” You ask, gauging his answer.

“Query received.  Processing answer.” You  exchange a glance with the Trailblazer, who looks about as nervous as you feel. “Answer found, results unsatisfactory.  Unauthorized persons in area.”

“What?” you manage to ask, nerves eating you alive.

“Step inside with me.”  Svarog turns, clunking with every step he takes.  “I must asseverate the Trailblazer remains out of earshot.”

“No problem,” they nod.  “I’ll go check up on some of the robots.  They make good company, you know?”

The inside of the building (is it Svarog and Clara’s house?) is made of steel, but isn’t modern in the way that the space station is.  It’s duller and rougher, like it’s in a constant state of being repaired or renovated. 

It smells like metal, when you take a breath through your mouth a stinging metallic taste lingers. You wonder, if you were closer to Svarog if such a scent would be on him.

“You are an organic being. This world is not so.  You asked for what I know the world to be and I will provide you what I know.

“This world is one many.  All beings of this world exist in a binary, you do not.  We exist in a flat plane that exists as a subsidiary to your own.”  His eye lights up, the red flashes in quick succession.  “Error.  Information restricted.  Extraction unavailable.”  He sits on one of the thick, reinforced metal chairs.  “Sorry.  It seems I lack the authority to provide you with further information.” “It’s okay thank you for what you’ve told me, Mr Svarog.  It helps confirm some things for me.  You were very helpful.”  It’s hard being around him in the same way as it’s easy. He lacks the human judgment you often face, even if unconsciously.  It’s hard because he’s so large and intimidating.  (And you would smash.)

“I appreciate the compliments.  I wish I could help you further.  I believe your companions mentioned needed to talk to Clara.  Do you know what that is about?  I ask out of concern for her safety.”  Svarog stands, joints whirring as he does so.

You nod, looking away from his face, “I do.  Actually we’re having a meeting later on, you’re also invited to come.  Hopefully Clara will be there.” “I see.” Svarog goes quiet for a minute and the air fills with the idle sounds of his machinery. “Then I will be there.  Where did you say this meeting was taking place again?”

The meeting went about as well as it could have gone, save for the lack of Sampo.  You asked around the Express crew and Gepard, who all reported not seeing him.  A shame, you really wanted to get his perspective on this whole situation.

You’re sure he would have something to provide, well mostly sure.  The scene at the end of Belobog’s chapter in the game, the one where Sampo looks directly in the “camera” and at the player, resonated deeply with you. What was it he said…?

“Time to make my curtain call,” before turning to meet your eyes through the screen. “To you, my dear audience, I dedicate my performance... I wonder, did I bring a little more joy into your lives?” He pauses dramatically.  “...You don't have to answer that - but if the answer is no, then you'll break my heart.”  Sampo’s voice breaks in a controlled manner as he finishes his lines, giving you a bow.

That has to mean something.  It just has to!

Gepard mentioned him being gone for over a week now, which isn’t uncommon for the Fool, but it squashes your hopes of contacting him.

You’d be kicking rocks (if there wasn’t a permanent layer of snow over the ground) if it weren't for the Trailblazer insisting upon stopping at a vending machine before heading back to the express.  So now you’re sitting on a bench with March and Dan Heng on either side of you while the lot of you wait for the Trailblazer to get their Mung Bean Soda.

“Don’t look so down!  I’m sure he’ll be here next time we visit.” March pats your back.

You people watch to pass the time before asking to take a moment alone.  Belobog seems like a safe enough place for you to wander without anyone snatching you up, so March and Dan Heng agree to catch you later.

You stroll the wintry streets, watching the citizens talk and enjoy their day-to-day lives, reminiscing about when you were once like them, back in your world.  You get lost in your memories, only being pulled out when you spot a very familiar shade of blue hair.

That’s Sampo Koski, no doubt about it. 

Well, there’s some doubt about it.  Instead of the more masculine version of Sampo portrayed in the game, this Sampo is oddly… busty.  It’s not like you’re trying to look at their breasts, they looked at you first!!!

As if feeling your gaze Sampo, they– she? he? –are they allowed to be transgender or whatever this is?  You don’t question this out of meanness, genuinely wondering if the game would affect such a thing?  What… but you don’t have long to worry about Hoyo possibly forcefully transitioning or detransitioning their characters because the person of the hour walks on over to you, strides long and confident.  

“Why hello there, you must be a member of my dearest audience!”  Before you can so much as greet them back, they continue, a sparkle in their eyes.  “It’s an honor to finally meet you!  Oh, I’m so moved you’ve come all this way for little old me.” You don’t know what this is, and if this is a gender thing you’d hate to deadname them, but you have to ask.  “Sampo?”

An immediate, “SHHHH!”  You flinch away and blush at the suddenness. “Why don’t we talk somewhere a little more private, doll?”

And never let it be said that you’ll decline a beautiful person wanting to drag you to an alleyway, sign you up all day! 

So Sampo, or Madam Poisson as they requested you refer to them as when dressed in such feminine attire, is currently wanted by the Silvermane Guards, though when is Sampo not wanted by them?  They refused to elaborate on that odd greeting they gave you, instead pressing you for a more casual conversation; how’s the express? how are his dear friends doing? how is Belobog treating you?

Madam Poisson eventually sends you back on your way to the Express crew with a big fat red lipstick mark on your cheek and a dumb smile on your face that you can’t hide.

All in all, your trip to Belobog was fun.  Though you found no answers to you being in this world, even raising a few more questions than you began with. Thus as you reboard the Astral Express, a sinking feeling of not belonging strikes you.

Everyone is so kind to you, so ready to assist, but all efforts have been fruitless.  You don’t have long to wallow in your sadness because Pompom shuffles into the center of the train cart and clears their throat.

“Passengers! May I have your attention please?  The Astral Express has received an invitation to The Land of Dreams, Penacony!”

Oh joy.  Uncharted territory for you, as the game’s progression had not at all gotten this far while you still had control.  You might want to call for a group meeting…

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[writersblockedx]

Potions for Pranks

Pairing - George Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - Fred and George are practising one of their latest potions on Y/n. They suddenly realise their wrong doings when Y/n begins to forget her memories. Warnings - None I don't think Words - 1.8K

Masterlist

Y/n's memory was beginning to blur. Just specks, small pieces that she couldn't help as they slowly started to slip away.

To begin with, the girl had been blissfully unaware. She, along with Angelina, Lee and the twins, were seated at the great hall for breakfast. Something which had seemed as usual as normal. Until George had slipped some concoction into Y/n's drink without her noticing. The Wealsey boy had been under the belief it was his and Fred's newest potions: kissing concoction. Alas, he had gotten the bottles mixed up.

"So, Y/n?" Hummed George mischievously as he leaned closer to his girlfriend. "Feel anything...I don't know...strong?"

Her brows knotted and she slid away from the boy slightly, "I've got no idea what you're talking about." She answered, confused already, yet unaware as to how her memory was beginning to crack.

Fred, the only other one in on the prank, had started giggling, leading to the other's starting to catch on. "Maybe you've got an urge to do something." George wiggled his eyebrows, but at that point, as Y/n stared back at him, she noted such memory was started to fade away.

Panic settled in and she addressed the rest of the group: "What have you done?" Her tone was blunt and pierced through the air.

Everyone caught on. Something wasn't right. This wasn't some mindless prank the twins had pulled, but something that had become daunting to her. Angelina leaned forward slightly over the table and reached out her hand. "Y/n? What is it?" She queried.

The girl could only shake her head, soon finding herself lost in the place she felt safest. "I don't-" She glanced to George as his pupils filled with worry. "I don't know." Her head snapped back to Angelina. "I can't remember."

They each shared looks. All of which were troublesome. Fred finally piped up, sheepishly asking his brother, "George, which bottle did you pick up?"

George hadn't torn his eyes from Y/n until that moment. "There was more than one?" That's when they all realised they were well and truly fucked.

"Yeah. There was the kissing potion and the- erm- the forgetfulness potions."

His words thudded against the air. There was no need for George to answer the question. They all knew. And, in the sum of three words, Angelina conveyed all their emotions, "You absolute morons."

Fred raised his hands in surrender, "Don't blame me!" Then he pointed this finger to his brother, "George was the one who picked the wrong bottle up."

The other twin rolled his eyes, commenting, "Very mature." Before turning to face Y/n who was still sat at complete loss, trying to grasp onto the memories which were slowly fading away. His eyes softened as his palms reached up to cup the sides of her face. "Hey, you're alright." Though, that he couldn't be sure of yet.

"Why do you even have a forgetfulness postion?" Questioned Lee, his curious tone gliding through the unsettling atmosphere.

"Testing some things out." Fred shrugged as his gaze snapped back to Y/n who hadn't dared to look away from George. "We're trying to make a short-term forgetfulness. You know, get away with a bit more stuff." He rambled on as he came to realise how bad this may turn out for them.

"And that," Angelina pointed to Y/n's cup, "Isn't the one for short-term memory?"

Fred shook his head.

"How do you feel?" George asked through a whisper, but in the group's silence, they all heard it. And they were all eagerly awaiting her answer, eagerly awaiting to find out how much memory their friend had lost.

Her pupils shot between the different people in front of her. The people she was closest to. The people who probably took up the majority of her memories. But, as she looked around, she just saw faces. Faces of which she was struggling to identify. "I don't- I can't-" She stuttered. The only thing which felt known was the red-head's hands on her cheeks. They were gentle and comforting as her body found them familiar, while her brain found them foreign. "I can't remember."

The pure panic in her pupils pushed a silence. Their friend now staring at them like they were ghosts. "It's like I know myself, but I can't, I can't place names to faces." She explained through a trembling tone.

"It's okay." Eased George as he took his hand in hers, hoping to soothe her concern. Then he turned his head and addressed the rest of the group, "Right? We can figure something out?" There was still panic woven throughout George's tone and it was louder than his words.

Lee scoffed, "Pretty sure this is above anything we can fix." At least he were being realistic. Though, his realism had only bought him a kick in the shin from the boy across from him. "Ouch!" He winced but was silenced none the less.

Angelina looked down the table in the Great Hall before leaning in as if her words were about to be dangerous. "You know, if we can't fix this, then that means..." She glanced between the boys who weren't seeming to catch on.

"That means? It means what?" Inquired Fred with knitted brows.

The girl huffed and let on, "We're going to have to go to Snape."

They seemed to dread that more than having a friend who didn't quite remember them. "Snape?" Y/n reiterated in curiosity. "That is?" They found it surprising how easily it had been to forget such a distinguished man. Then again, they supposed it showed the intensity of the potion they had accidentally slipped into Y/n's drink.

"Someone you'll wish you could forget." Replied Lee with the raise of his brows; wishing now that he had been the one to take the burden of the potion.

"Surely there's someone else." George thought. "I mean, anyone else. You know how many points he'll deduct?"

Angelina scowled, "And that's more important than getting your girlfriend's memories back, is it?"

"I'm just saying maybe there's a professor a bit nicer, who may be able to fix this just as well."

"He's potions master, George, there's no one better than him." No one liked the idea, but Angelina was right and there was no point in arguing. "Come on," She urged as she slipped from her seat and everyone else followed.

Y/n stuck close to George, their hands still perfectly interlocked. "Where are we going?" She asked him as they followed behind the others.

He glanced to her as they continued out of the Great Hall, "To someone who can get your memories back." He informed her.

She nodded her head but still seemed uncertain of the idea. "Right." She muttered before looking to him through confused eyes, "And, remind me again, your name is?"

A slight smile hooked at his lips, "George." He told her.

The group wandered around the hallways. For once, they were dismissive. For once, they were aiming to combat any attention as they hid their most recent prank: Y/n. Luckily, most students still lingered in the Great Hall and they were able to get to potions class without many glances their way.

But their real troubles would only begin when they knocked against the door. Angelina looked back at George, who seemed sewed too the forgetful girl. "You ready?" She questioned and the red-head nodded.

Angelina raised her hand and let her knuckles knock gently against the wood. They waited a moment or two before the door swung open and Snape ducked his head out. He glared at each of them, stopping on Angelina. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but erm-" She looked to Y/n and then back to the professor. "We need some help."

The man narrowed his eyes and, for a moment, George could have sworn he was about to decline his help. But, alas, he opened the door fully, "Come in." He instructed as the group fumbled into potions class. "What is it this time?"

And so, Angelina started to explain. She explained everything. Snape listened all the way through and didn't make any comment until the girl stopped. He then huffed and through the trembling silence, looked to the twins and said, "I'm half inclined to leave her as is for a few hours, hopefully teach you a lesson you're both obviously lacking." The two bit their tongues. "Instead, I'm sure a deduction of ten house points will be sufficient."

George sent Angelina a stare which could only read: I told you so. "Do you have the potion?" Snaped queried.

"Yeah." Answered George before rummaging through his robe pockets and pulling out the small bottle and handing it over.

Snape's gaze dragged over to the girl who resembled a deer caught in the headlights. "Take a seat please, Miss Y/l/n." He told her, but she didn't seem to make any move. Well, that was until George prompted her. Snape kept quiet and unscrewed the potion, sniffing it to search for it's ingredients. "And I wonder, what were you doing with such a potion?"

The twins looked to one another, shared in their expression, before addressing Snape. "Revision, sir." Fred answered.

Snape chose not to comment before taking the potion and beginning to gather what he needed for a remedy. He put it all together, mixed it and then returned and passed the concoction to Y/n. She looked up with doe-eyes, curiously holding the potion she wasn't sure of. "Drink it, Y/n." George encouraged with the nod of his head.

She glanced between him and the drink. She wasn't sure, but for some reason, she found that the boy in front of her was one to be trusted. So she followed his instruction and swallowed it all.

They all nervously anticipated if it were to work or not. They probably should have had trust in their professor, but Snape wasn't the most trustworthy. A moment passed and Y/n showed no sign of returning to her usual self. So George offered his hand to her, "Y/n? How do you feel?" He questioned.

She looked up slowly. She wore an expression that the boy struggled to depict. It seemed relieved, yet there were speckles of irritation written into her pupils. Slowly, she stood from the stool and fully faced George. Before he could even realise what was going on, he was getting gently hit in the chest by the girl, followed by her mutterings, "You idiot, George Weasley! You stupidity amazes me sometimes!" She went on before he caught her fists and a grin spread across his lips.

He quipped his head, "How I've missed you."

[missmarveledsblog]

A KIND OF SEX EDUCATION ( PART THREE) ( PLATONIC Cas , winchesters x reader)

SUMMARY : Cas finds onlyfans , all it not what it seems though

warning : its just pure crack and fun

Turns out even as traumatising as the last time of cas curiosities didn’t actually have too bad of out come and as much as she had hated to admit dean was right about them dating . although never in the bunker was it peaceful for too long . turns out bobby was her dad and she learned new thing about her parents no child should ever learn …ever. 

Something else was different too every night at 8 pm cas would disappear off into his room even when on hunt he would head off some where always at 8pm , of course they were curious  but after last few ordeal with the angel well the curiosity was just not enough to investigate . well until ..

“ i am in love and i think it time i brought her here” he said  completely out of the blue . 

“ you have a girlfriend good job buddy … don’t show her your internet history though” dean snorted only for y/n to slap him in back of the head. 

“ she’s real right?” sam asked needing clarifications after poor guy fell for an A.i bot . 

“ she’s very real we talk every night at 8pm . 

“ that’s great cas maybe we can go for a double date sometime “ y/n beamed more for the fact it probably the most normal interaction she had with the angel in what felt forever . 

“ i shall ask her although she said friends cost extra” he said heading off to his room as they all shared a look. 

“ who the hell is spending 500 dollars a night on …” bobby called. 

“ you go in i’m not going in , i’m always the one here for this shit” she argued as three stood out his door. 

“ oh for fuck sake  i’m moving out” she whined. 

......

“ you’re nicer though he listens to you and better than him he’ll break his heart” sam reasoned . 

“ why aren’t you in the equations” she scoffed. 

“ i don’t want to deal with it to be honest” sam huffed. 

“ how about we all go talk to him i mean plus lets see what she like she could be nice gal for all we know” dean grinned. 

“ do you like having a girlfriend” she glared . 

“ point taken you should take this one” he smiled pushing her into the room. 

“ another tip from my angel any requests” the voice called as y/n was ready to burst into tears thinking maybe wifi in the bunker was over rated.

“ hey cas i need to erm talk to you it’s urgent” . 

“ why are you're eyes covered if its urgent” she could already picture his tilted head and confused face but she was afraid just incase his little saint was out awaiting . “ i got to go my love i will come back tomorrow” he called as silence filled the room god this was going to like shooting bambi’s mother. 

“ he’s dressed sweetheart” was all dean voice said echoing down the  hall. 

“ oh thank fuck , hey buddy can we talk” she asked softly and wishing she was well anywhere else. 

“ of course it is urgent” he nodded. 

“ jesus how do i go about this?” she sighed rubbing her temples. 

“ are you pregnant? I noticed the little weight but i didn’t want to mention it” he looked down at her stomach. 

“ getting less hard , no i’m not pregnant may need to go on a diet though… nevermind cas whats your loves name?” she shook her head staying on point albeit less confident then before .

“Angel lady six nine” he beamed proudly . 

“ oh you poor sap it’s sixty nine  not the the point cas have you talk with her like in person or …” . 

“ on only fans gabriel sent me the link said it was a website for meeting exciting women and now i met my love and she makes me so happy … and it make my hands want to do the thing i see ” he smiled . 

“ well i’m glad, good chatting buddy” she backed out the room definitely not the one to be dealing with this . 

So now here sam was while dean was telling y/n she wasn’t fat.  He could do it rip the bandaid off but provide some sort of comfort maybe bring him somewhere to meet real woman that wouldn’t send them to the poor house. 

“ hey cas can we talk” he smiled awkwardly seeing the angel eyes locked on screen .

“ of course it seems as everyone wants to do that tonight” he place it down as sam caught a glimpse of the page he was on . 

“ your love isn’t well actually love” he cut to the point . 

“ why not she tells me all the time” his head tilted like a confused puppy. 

“ that’s cause you give her five hundred dollars a night i mean she call you king of the world for that sort of money” . 

“ she shows me her things like…” he began to explain. 

“ i don’t need to know that .. but she not really in love with you buddy just the money you give her?” sam asked watching his reaction seeing the cogs turn in the mans head. 

“  i don’t get it” he finally said. 

“ ok… goodnight” sam huffed walking out as dean stormed  . 

“ hello dean” cas smiled. 

“ ok buddy you're dating a prostitute electronically needs to stop or we can’t buy pie so stop wasting the money online great talk buddy” he shut the door as the other two watched him walk off in victory . 

“ nothing wrong with earning money like that woman power ,  just not ours cas” y/n winced at her boyfriends way with words following after. 

They sat worried as cas never showed up for breakfast  , y/n even checked to see his room empty to which sam said to give him space. 

“ jesus your right that was like shooting bambi” sam called heading in the same direction. 

......

“ but what if we made him run away” she pouted. 

“ he’s literally older than all of us and an angel” dean shrugged. 

“ but he’s a baby in a trench coat you say it all time” she pointed out . 

“ the kitchen is through here , would you like a drink” the voice called out. 

“ oh water is fine” a female voice replied as the two appeared making them not only drop their jaws but whatever was in their face as the woman followed behind. 

“ is that…” she whispered. 

“ the hook..OWW” Dean yelled as y/n kicked him . 

“This my love  angel , angel these are my friends who think your a hooker”  cas said as sam choked on his drink.

“We don’t think your a hooker” y/n smiled weakly . 

“ actually we do  onlyfans means one thing … not that i would know i’ve never seen it before” dean corrected himself as his girlfriend glared. 

“ you know people do other things on onlyfans not only sexwork right “ angel crossed her arms. 

“ come on angel sixty nine” dean scoffed. 

“ six point nine my birthday is the 9th of june” she answered.

“ look we don’t slut shame but you make his hands wanna move” sam pointed out . 

“ to teach him to draw” she gasped .

 “ five hundred dollars to paint really cas” bobby walked in. 

“ he doesn’t pay me a dollar” angel pointed out . 

“ where our money going then” y/n brow furrow. 

“ wait that’s real money i though it was pretend money” jack walked in with his tablet showing them the gambling site he was on . 

“Wait so she's not a hooker” dean asked confused. . 

“ sorry angel” the called in unison .

" we're getting rid of the wifi i can't be dealing with this shit" y/n called heading out the room .

@pizzagirlxnsfwx hope you enjoy part three :)

[sebsbarnes]

a ghost || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: "are you happy?" the question felt like a burning knife slowly carving your heart out.

or ex lovers see each other for the first time

warnings: none! (i wrote this in 10 mins sorry if its bad)

word count: 700+ ; angst

tangerine masterlist

you should have known that eventually you would run into tangerine. you both resided in the same town since it happened, but it's been a year since you were this physically close to him. there had been times while driving you could've sworn you saw him in the distance but to appease yourself you chalked it up to your imagination. but right now, this was reality, and there was no denying it.

"tangerine," you exhaled heavily as the man walked towards you.

"hey darl- hey," he stopped himself from using the term of endearment.

anyone nearby in the park would've never guessed that you two were once deeply in love based on the blaringly obvious awkward tension clouding the air around you.

"how have you been?" you asked rubbing your arm to self soothe.

he scratched the side of his head letting out an awkward chuckle, "erm, yeah i've been alright. lemon's good, yeah, he's doing well."

"oh, that's good, good," you could feel your skin crawling as you stood there in silence, occasionally glancing away from each other.

tangerine pointed a thumb to a picnic table, "would you like to sit?"

you hummed, nodding your head and following him. while your seated across from him, you noticed tangerine's face was slightly thinner, his facial hair slightly grown out with a beard. he must've been on a job recently based on the marks scattered across his bare arms. but nonetheless he looked good, he always did.

"are you happy?" the question felt like a burning knife slowly carving your heart out. the air in your lungs vanished quickly and it felt as though your lungs were collapsing to dust. your stomach suddenly felt extremely sick and if it weren't for the lack of feeling in every nerve ending in your body you may have tried to stand up and release whatever might have been creeping up your throat from your stomach.

you have been asking yourself the same question for the last year. everyone else has been asking you the same question for the last year. but this was the first time hearing the words leave his lips and it stung, it burned. it felt like the time you and tangerine stayed at the beach too long and your shoulder's burned in pain for two weeks. it felt like the time you seared your hand on the hot plate while cooking for tangerine's birthday. you so badly wanted to escape this situation but there was nowhere to run and truth be told the only person you would want to run to is across from you.

"happy is a subjective word," you finally put syllables together to speak, despite it feeling like your vocal cords were shredding.

"love," he broke, "please i need to know."

"tan, you were the best thing to ever happen to me," you spoke truthfully, "the only times i was truly at my happiest was when we were together. i've- i've been managing since."

his eyes were glazed over and he was chewing on his lip, something he did when he was anxious.

"i'm so sorry for not putting you first in those last months," he confessed. the last three months of your relationship was rocky. tangerine had gained notoriety after the bolivia job and was being whisked away almost every day on a new job. he got cocky, more than he already is, and only cared about the high-profile jobs he was getting and the money that came with. slowly, you became a second thought to him.

"i know you're sorry," and you did, you knew he regretted his actions. but he couldn't turn back time.

"i think about you every day," he whispered, quickly ghosting his fingers over your hand.

before you could answer, before you could confess everything you needed and wanted to, you felt a hand on your shoulder. your eyes sealed shut, lips quivering harshly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. the voice of your new partner was behind you. that's why you were at the park today, to meet them for a date.

you knew that when you open your eyes tangerine would be gone. a ghost of your past that was no more.

[suugarbabe]

Respect the Family

| Chapter 1 |

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of drinking

an: Surprise, it came earlier for you all. I told you things would happen fast once i could write comfortably again. this is the first chapter in the sequel to the Protego Series. click the hyperlink if you haven't read that first. While it isn't necessarily a need for you to read Protego first, it may help you better understand some of the characters personalities and how they function as a family. There will be sections in later chapters that call back to portions of protege that may make you confused if you have not read this series. <3

The reflection in the mirror was someone you didn’t recognize. Yet every time you moved, it moved with you. You applied mascara, the reflection did the same. You glossed your lips, so did the woman looking back at you. A pair of hands landed gently on the woman’s shoulders in the mirror and you felt the pressure on your own. “You look great, hun!” Roxy’s chipper tone was an encouraging attempt to calm your nerves. Pouting slightly you made eye contact through the mirror, “Dunno, Rox. I’m super thankful you got me this job but I’m proper nervous.” Roxy gave your shoulders a squeeze, “It’s alright, hun, happens to all of us. I’m having the bartender bring you a little liquid courage to help with all that.” 

You let out a low groan, closing your eyes and using the tips of your forefingers to rub your temples with slight pressure. A clinking of glass on table made you straighten up. A large shot glass filled with clear liquor was sat down in front of you. Looking up you were met with a tall and lean frame of a man. A messy fluff of dirty blonde hair settled and framed his features after he ran his hand through it, “Erm, Rox said you needed this?” His eyes seemed to dance with a mixture of shyness and mischief as his finger pointed toward the shot glass in front of you. You nodded, smiling awkwardly as it felt like your voice was lost in your throat. Taking the glass you threw your head back, clearing the shot in one smooth motion.

The man in front of you let out a low whistle, “That nervous, huh?” You let out a small laugh, adjusting the straps of your outfit in the mirror, “Just a little. First day jitters I guess; we all get them right?” The man smiled back at you, the action reaching his amber eyes. “I’m Lorenzo by the way, erm, Enzo. My friends call me Enzo. You can call me either, w-whatever you like,” his slight stammering made you smile, a real genuine smile and you felt yourself relax slightly. Enzo mirrored your expression, asking for your name in return. You enlighten him, giving him your name before listening to him repeat it to himself like he’s trying to commit it to memory. The way he looks at you, smiles at you, there's something different, you can’t quite put your finger on just what yet. 

A voice calls out behind you, “Bunny, you’re up next! Oh, hey Berk, what’re you doing in here?” Enzo’s cheeks turned a blushing pink, “Erm, hey Blaise. Roxy asked me to bring a drink to -” he turned to face you, “I thought you said your name was-” You cut him off with a raise of your hand, “It’s my stage name, you can call me that if you’d like, or any other nickname variation your pretty little head can think of.” You threw him a wink as you stood up, Blaise stepping aside to let you exit towards the stage. Enzo’s eyes never left your figure your entire walk out, his vision trained on the door you walked through. He didn’t notice Blaise walked towards him, now resting against the vanity you were just sat, “Developing a crush on the new girl already, bruv?” Blaise’s teases caused another dusting to cover Enzo’s freckled cheeks before he cleared his throat, “‘Course not. Roxy just asked-” 

“Roxy just asked,” Blaise mimicked Enzo with a teasing high pitched tone, “Come off it, mate, you might be able to fool Nott with that shite but you’re not fooling me. Have your looks and your fun, but you know that’s all it can be. You know Riddle’s rule.” Enzo rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, mate, you know I’m not a relationship type of guy. Like you said, I’m just gonna have my fun while I can. You know we haven’t gotten any new faces around here since long before Birdie showed up and she’s like my sister. I’m just enjoying the new fruit.” Blaise clasped a hand on Enzo’s shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that.” 

Enzo shoves Blaise’s hand off his shoulder playfully before straightening his vest, smoothing his hands down his chest as he walks out of the dressing room. He makes a b-line for the bar, responding quickly to Birdie when she asks how he’s doing, “Fine!” his voic betrays him at first, high pitched and cracking before he clears his throat, “Erm, fine, doing just fine.” Birdie’s eyebrows raise slightly, “Three fines and a crack? What’s got your pants in a twist huh?” Enzo rolls his eyes, taking a drink order for the man in front of him and turning his back to Birdie while looking for the right liquor. Birdie, ever the persistent one, isn’t too keen on this reaction, “One of the dancers reject you again or something?”

He scoffs at this, “Oh, please, Angel. You know they never reject me.” The playful smirk on Enzo’s face makes Birdie laugh out loud. He hands the drink to the patron in front of him, seemingly getting distracted by the scene over his shoulder. Up on the main stage was something Enzo should’ve expected but wasn’t prepared for. He knew you were a dancer, but he didn’t know you could dance like that. His eyes were trained on your figure as he watched you spin around the pole, the thickness of your thighs sparkling with whatever lotion you had coated yourself in having him in a trance. 

When you crawled on your knees to the edge of the stage, picking up muggle money being thrown in your direction he felt his jaw tense reflexively. You sat back on your heels, knees spread wide open as you ran your hands up your body to the suggestive lyrics of the song. You pulsed up and down on your knees slightly as you ran your hands through your hair before leaning back fully, the position making your chest push out more and Enzo’s pants tighten. You flipped over to your stomach before pushing back up to your hands and knees, back arching to put your ass on full display for the patrons as you twirled your head in a circle, your hair whipping around wildly. Bills and galleons started hitting the stage like rainfall and Enzo could feel his grip on the neck of the liquor bottle tighten dangerously.

“She’s a cute one, isn’t she?” Birdie's teasing tone brought Enzo’s focus back from his growing delusions, his cheeks heating exponentially. “Who’s cute?” He wipes the top of the bar with a rag, avoiding eye contact and hoping he can avoid accusation. Unsurprisingly he’s wrong for both, “Bunny, obviously. You’re  basically fucking her with your staring, Enzie.” He shakes his head a little more adamantly, a mistake leaving his mouth without him realizing, “That’s not her real name you know.” He stops mid-motion, eyes closing as a low curse leaves his lips in a whisper. 

The grin that encompassed Birdie’s face made Enzo’s stomach twist nervously, “Oh! So she introduced herself real name first, huh? She must have looked into those pretty eyes of yours.” She pinched his cheek playfully before being swatted off. “Did you give her a handsome smile, bub? Shoot her a signature wink like you do?” Birdie grinned as she bit into an orange slice from the bar. Enzo huffed in annoyance, “You know, Angel, you’re acting like a fucking tosser. Been hanging out with Nott more lately?” Birdie doubled down, her grin growing knowingly at her friend, “You fucking choked up didn’t you…does this girl make you nervous Enzo?” 

Enzo rolled his eyes, taking one last peek at you on the stage, “You know I don’t get nervous, Angel,” he patted his vest pocket, checking for his cigarettes, “I’m going for a smoke, I’ll be back in 15.” Birdie made an ‘okay’ symbol with her fingers, giving him a wink before turning back to her tasks. Enzo took long strides through the club to get to the back door, pushing it open with more force than probably necessary. The outside air was cool on his skin, a relief to the warmth he seemed to be overwhelmed with since meeting you earlier tonight. A chill overcame his body, the hairs on his arm standing up; he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the slam of the back door, “Fucking Salazar, mate you sca-“, he cut him self off when he realized who had come through the door. He expected Blaise or Theo to have followed him out, but he was blessed with a surprise instead.

You sauntered over, still in your stage outfit, the slightest of quirks on the edge of your lips, “Awh, are we mates now, Lorenzo? That’s so sweet of you. Can I bum one?” You nodded toward the pack of cigarettes in his hand. He held them up wordlessly, his own loose on his lips while his eyes followed your every move. You took one from the pack, your glossed lips wrapping around the butt in such an average way yet to Enzo it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. With a snap the tip of your finger was on fire. Lighting your cigarette the flame disappeared and you took a deep inhale. 

“The crowd always so eager?” You sat into your hip, voice causing Enzo to repeatedly blink himself out of his daze. “Erm, m’sorry, what?” A soft laugh left through your nose as you took another inhale, smoke billowing from your pillowy lips as you spoke again, “Is the crowd always so eager with all the dancers?” Enzo took a long drag before answering, “Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to boost your ego?” A sly smile toyed on your lips, “Can you do both?” Enzo hummed to himself, trying to hide his growing smile. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but something about you made it feel like his insides were on fire. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to impress you, intimidate you, or push you up against the brick wall and take you right in the back alley. 

Enzo flicked his cigarette, ash tumbling off the end, “Most of the men who come here are pretty mindless, always throwing their money carelessly at any dancer on stage with the delusion that maybe they’ll get to take one of you home. You are one of the more beautiful dancers we have though, I'll give you that much.” You snorted at this, Enzo smiled, “They probably seemed so eager because you’re the new girl. You know, fresh meat to their eyes; the new shiny toy.” You raised your eyebrows at this, nodding as you took your last drag before tossing your cigarette on the ground and crushing it beneath your pump, “So you and them aren’t much different then, huh Lorenzo?” Head tilting to the side, Enzo’s eyes squinted slightly, “Dunno what you mean by that, love, care to enlighten me?” 

Maybe it was the responses you were getting on stage that made your confidence flip from earlier in the night. Or maybe it was the three additional shots you had downed with the other dancers backstage as your ‘completed first dance tradition’. Either way you were feeling braver, feeling like you were more in charge of yourself, feeling more like your actual self. “Aren’t I just the new shiny toy to you too?” You took a step closer to Enzo and he took a step back towards the wall as a response. “I don’t mess around with the dancers, Bunny,” Enzo took his last drag as a cover for any facial expression that might give him away. You, however, weren’t buying it. 

“That’s not what I heard,” you step closer once more, making Enzo’s back hit the wall and a grunt leave his lips. “I heard Berkshire has a list of dancers he’s shagged, and I was just wondering,” you toyed with one of the buttons on his vest, “am I gonna be added to that list?” You had to tilt your neck slightly to meet his eyes now, but that was exactly your plan. Peering up at him you batted your lashes, the teenset of pouts on your lips. Enzo was thanking every high wizard, Merlin, Salazar, hell even fucking Godric Gryffindor for the strength of his restraint in this moment. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was toying with his vest, the action so quick it startled you that it even happened. “Oh, Bunny girl, you will never be on that list,” he leaned down now, lips ghosting at the shell of your ear, “but if you really want me that badly, I’d never say no to a pretty girl throwing herself at me so desperately.” 

You took a step back from him, trying, and failing, to jerk your wrist away from his grasp, “I’m not acting desperate.” You were insulted at the insinuation. But it seemed like Enzo wasn’t listening as his brows furrowed looking just past your shoulder and then he rolled his eyes, “I have to go, we can do this again your next shift, yeah?” He released you then but the heat from his palm still radiated on your skin as you watched him walk back into the club. 

Enzo shook his head a few times, trying to clear his mind of all the horrible and raunchy thoughts that were consuming him about you as he tried to ignore Draco’s voice in his head again, We’re waiting on you, Berk, get your ass in here, NOW. Enzo huffed out an annoyed sigh as he opened the door to Mattheo’s office, all eyes turning to him as he entered. Enzo wore a saccharine grin as he touched his cheek, “What? Got something on my face?” Mattheo wore a less than pleased look as he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest yet still not a wrinkle on his black designer suit. Birdie sat perched on the desk next to him, a smirk on her face as Mattheo spoke. “What the hell took you so long, Berkshire.” 

Theo raised his hand as if they were back in school, “I know, call on me, Matty!” Mattheo gave a half-assed wave of his hand, but it was all the permission Theo needed to be his idiot self before he opened his mouth again, “Berk was in the alley with Buuunnnyy.” Theo said the end in a sing-song voice before settling into a quiet giggle as Enzo glared at him, ignoring the glare he was receiving himself from Mattheo. Enzo opened his mouth to respond but was cut off quickly by Mattheo's harsh tone, “Cut it off, Berkshire. And do it now. We don’t have time for you to go gallivanting around with your cock out for the new dancer, not with what we have coming up right now.” 

Enzo clicked his tongue in response, “Okay, first off, I don’t go gallivanting my cock around or whatever the fuck you just said. Secondly, I just turned her down in the alley, thank you very much.” Birdie and Blaise both raised their eyebrows before exchanging a look that Enzo did not want to delve into right now. Mattheo pinched the bridge of his nose, growling out in slight frustration, “Whatever the fuck it is, stay clear of it. We’ve got more important things to worry about and I need your head on straight, Enzo. You can’t be weakened by some stripper when we’re dealing with the Corvo family.” 

Pansy gasped in disbelief, “The Corvo family, are you serious Mattheo?” He braced himself with a hand on his desk, the other grabbing hold of Birdie’s thigh, “Yes, I’m serious, Pans. I know everyone thought they were dormant, but at the last meeting there were rumors.” Draco crossed his arms, “What kind of rumors?” 

“Like the kind of rumors that could start a war, Cousin,” Mattheo took a slow glance around the room, making sure everyone took in what he was saying, how serious this information really was. “We have four shipments to get out in the next four weeks; there cannot be any mistakes, do we all have an understanding?” A unified ‘yes, boss’ rang out in the room. “The Corvo’s cannot interrupt this arrangement. The trades we’re doing are creating allyships that are heavily important to our family. No one outside of this room is to be involved. I understand some of the dancers have a suspicion of what we do beyond the club, but as far as anyone else is concerned, it’s all rumors. Outside of the mansion and outside of this room the business is not to be spoken to with anyone. Inside this club, the club is all we speak of, that’s the only business we have and that’s the only thing anyone is concerned about. 

“With this mess of rumors concerning the Corvo’s we cannot and will not have any information leaked in any capacity. While we love our Birdie,” Mattheo turned and kissed his girl on the cheek, “we fucking hate rats.” Enzo and Theo made eye contact across the room, both simulating a fake gag at the scene. However, Enzo perked up at the end of Mattheo’s speech, “You know, personally I love a rat, they’re one of my favorites to kill.” Enzo wiggled his eyebrows while cracking his knuckles. Pansy rolled her eyes, “Okay, killer, calm down. If we need you we’ll call for you.” Enzo blew her a kiss. Pansy pretended to catch it mid air before turning her hand and displaying her middle finger. 

Mattheo groaned in annoyance, “Alright, if we all understand then there shouldn’t be any problems. You all can go.” Except you Enzo, you stay, Mattheo’s voice rang in Enzo’s head. The other’s all left the room as Enzo took a seat in front of Mattheo’s desk. With the click of the door locking again, Mattheo’s full attention was on Enzo. “Are you sure I don’t have anything to worry about with Bunny? I know I didn’t hire an ugly dancer, I never do and I know how much you enjoy that.” Enzo pulled at his bottom lip, head nodding, “I know, I know, but I swear, Matt. I’m good. I was serious earlier, girl came on to me hard, asked to be my shiny new play toy and everything, I told her it would never happen. You have nothing to worry about. I’m fully focused on the family business.” Mattheo raised his eyebrows, as if to ask one more time if Enzo was sure. 

Enzo held his hands up, sincere smile on, “I promise, Mattheo. Bunny means nothing to me.” 

[dr-spectre]

The Corruption In Splatoon.

Hypno Callie - Sanitized Agent 3 - Marina Agitando Analyzed.

(Note: this post may get edited over time if i need to fix grammar errors, get new information or anyone corrects me in a fair way. I'm not gonna listen to those who say "erm you're wrong actually." There will also be sources at the bottom.)

One of the biggest issues I've seen in the Splatoon community are the misconceptions and misinformation that spread around so quickly and i see it a lot when it comes to the corruption arcs found in Callie, Agent 3 and Marina. People throw around the words "hypnotized, mind controlled, brainwashed" interchangeably between the three, and it kind of damages the stories the developers wanted to tell. I see people say that Marina was hypnotized, which isn't the case at all, and same with Agent 3.

So in this long post I'm gonna go into a deep dive and analyze these characters, go into their personalities while under their corruption, distinguish between their "afflictions" and how they got to that point. There is a lot of depth to this and most people (not all ofc) overlook it which is a shame and i wanna change that.

We will first start off with a character i feel very strongly towards, the one i feel gets the most amount of misinformation in the community and is overlooked the most. A character, suffering from mental distress and isolation, the loser of the final Splatfest in Splatoon 1. An antagonist born out of her own volition and free will despite what many say about her.

Hypno/Octo Callie

Hypno/Octo Callie is where most people tend to slip up and only look at the surface level info the game presents, and that information barely scratches the surface into what happened to Callie and what Callie is like under the influence of the shades.

First off, how did Callie end up like this? She was isolated, got kidnapped by Octavio and then brainwashed right? WRONG! Although this is what Splatoon 2 suggests, it's entirely wrong and paints a pretty gross picture if you think about it for more than five seconds. Implying that Octavio is some freak and monster who waited for the perfect moment to snatch up Callie and then brainwash her against her consent, forcing her into things she didn't want to do, like wear that revealing outfit, brand her with that tattoo, and join the Octarians as a mind controlled slave for their goals. Yeahhhhh... you can see why i have an issue with this implication and the interpretations this created in the fandom...

It's really disgusting and I'm honestly quite shocked that people wanna paint that picture of Octavio and leave Callie as a victim with trauma from those events. Callie in her dialogue never EVER mentions being kidnapped, and only Marie says that because from her perspective, she's gonna think that's what happened cause she worries about Callie all the damn time. They only say "kidnapped" in outside media to make Octavio more of a cartoony evil villain and to simplify things which makes me kind of frustrated. If Callie truly suffered from trauma and had resentment for the Octarians, it would display in her dialogue. She would say shit like, "If i see another Octarian... oh, I'm gonna SPLAT them to pieces!" or "I'm gonna get those Octarians for what they put me through..." It also explains why she even thought about putting the shades back on because if she truly suffered from trauma, she wouldn't DARE put those shades back on. The "plenty!" Line she says in Splatoon 3 when Shiver asks what's wrong with them is a joke line and most likely references her putting the shades on again and again, but the canon on the rematches is unclear but I'm gonna treat them as canon.

However I've seen people bring up this concept art to dismiss these arguments where Callie is seen putting on the Hypnoshades without her knowledge and then is "turned evil ooooo!!"

This is just a SINGLE piece of concept art that the developers MIGHT have used to explain the rematch of the final boss. This art is disproven from Callie's dialogue in the rematch across various different languages as if Marie asked her why she put the shades back on, she would likely have a different response if the shades were put on her in that way.

There is also other concept art showing Callie being alone and comforted by Octarians which also disproves that single piece of concept art that suggests the weird gross narrative online that people push about Octavio.

Now that we've cleared up the misconceptions, how did Callie end up wearing those shades? Well, as shown with the Sunken Scrolls, Callie falls apart when she's alone, she overthinks and gets stressed out.

Callie is a person who seeks companionship and always looks on the bright side, even if it's a detriment on her mental health and causes her to bottle up her emotions to an unhealthy degree. Waking up extremely early and working all day, being surrounded by paparazzi, damaged her mental health, and Marie wasn't there for her as she had a different schedule. Their relationship slowly broke apart and the Splatfest probably didn't help with that either. There might have been some resentment that Callie hid.

At some point Callie must have met up with Octavio after she stormed off in the Squid Sister Stories on chapter 7, and Octavio, being the master manipulator that he his, probably convinced Callie to join the Octarians and appealed to her sense of isolation and pressure from being a star. He didn't force her into anything as shown with Callie's dialogue not showing any hints towards this, Octavio just pulled the right strings and Callie willingly joined to escape her life as said by her line in the official relationship chart "OK, fine, I'll hear you out."

If Octavio tried to grab her or put the shades on her by force, he would get absolutely eviscerated. Remember, Callie is not some weak little girl, she's a trained agent who's a roller main, a weapon that requires a ton of physical strength to wield. Inklings and Octolings do not have bones and are carried purely by their muscles, and because Octavio is way older than Callie and can't even walk properly due to him being stuck in his octopus form, Callie would be able to physically overpower him and turn him into a cooked octopus with rice on the side by the time she is done with him.

Callie finds the Octarians cute and Octavio knows that if he could get her on his side, he could help his troops and save his race from destruction. Octavio uses music to motivate his troops to battle and Callie's help in this would help him a lot. And that's where the shades come in....

The Hypnoshades are very vague and we're not fully sure on the effects, however judging from their name we can guarantee that they involve hypnosis in some form. Either it's because of the animated parts at the front which Callie can see or some other sci fi bullshit that is not explained. They are not "brainwashing shades" that turn a person evil. If that's the case then they wouldn't be called HYPNO shades.

Now let's dive into hypnosis and explain what it is. Hypnosis is being described as being put into a deeply relaxing state where your mind is more prone to suggestions. It's not like in popular media where some dude swings a watch around and goes, "You are getting very sleepy oooo," and then they become a puppet and are mind controlled. No, that's not what happens. Yes, you are more prone to listening to suggestions and taking them to heart, HOWEVER! ONLY IF ITS ACCEPTABLE TO THE HYPNOTIZED PERSON! THE SUGGESTION CANNOT GO AGAINST A PERSON'S MORALS AND IF IT DOES THEY WON'T LISTEN!

If the person who is getting hypnotized doesn't wanna follow through with the suggestion by the person behind the hypnosis, they won't listen to the suggestion. If Callie didn't wanna wear that outfit, she wouldn't. If Callie didn't wanna decorate Octo Canyon, then she wouldn't, but she does because she loves art. You can't make a hypnotized person wanna murder their friends and families unless they secretly want to.... you cannot get a guy on stage to get nude in front of an audience as shown with those stage hypnosis acts, it is most likely faked or the person was in a really good mood and wanted to have fun.

Callie, while under the shades acts more like her normal self than not. She is still energetic and even decorated Octo Canyon as she is a fan of art. Her chaotic nature is still intact however she is more violent and harsh which was teased in her Splatfest dialogue in Splatoon 1. If she was brainwashed then she would be more like a mindless robot that follows Octavio no matter what, like a specialized sleeper agent. However, she snaps back at him multiple times when Agent 4 attacks the Octobot King II and doesn't even wanna kill Marie but instead get her away from her because of their broken relationship. But she tries to kill Agent 4 because she doesn't know who that is and has no personal attachment to them.

The shades do NOT control Callie and do NOT force Octarian ideals into her head. The shades are there to further manipulate Callie, and Callie heard out the suggestions by her own free will. If Callie's mental health and life were better she would probably not listen to Octavio and turn him into a paste on the road with her roller.

Hypnosis is also incredibly relaxing and helps with disorders like anxiety. Maybe it's why she kept putting on the shades again and escaping with Octavio. She might be addicted to it, as shown by her rematch dialogue. However, they don't go into any depth with it unfortunately.

I know people tend to bring up Octavio's line, "i remixed Callie's brain!" to disprove my points, however,

1. Its probably bad translation as the English localization team makes mistakes often as shown with Octo Expansion with Commander Tartar's and Marina's dialogue, and Side Order as well. The line is also different in other languages and some of those languages mention hypnosis, we also don't have a retranslation of the Japanese script for Splatoon 2 so I'm give the English script a HUGE grain of salt on the dialogue.

2. Octavio is a DJ. He says musical terms to describe things. the "remixing" of Callie's brain is to show that Octavio has got Callie on his side via manipulation and not direct brain "washing" if you get what I'm trying to say here. He didn't literally warp her brain with some bullshit evil shades. He just pulled the right strings and pointed her in his direction without directly or forcefully doing it.

There is also Marie's line, "Why would you put those stupid brainwashing sunglasses back on?" In the rematch. However, this is only in the English translation of the original Japanese script, and in other languages, Marie just calls them the Hypnoshades or glasses. The localization team of Splatoon is known to make mistakes, like I've stated previously.

I also wanna go over the design for a little bit, it's honestly really well done and aside from the weird icky implications people just love to make about it, it does a good job at being an "Evil Callie" look. The colors are really appealing to the eyes, the way the design flows together is nice to look at, the octopus tattoo is striking and has become iconic in the fandom, with some believing Callie kept the tattoo as a popular headcanon. The glittery leggings and spikes on the waist and neck are a nice addition. Flipping the grilled squid pattern and placing it on her chest. And the shades are just the cherry on top with their hypnotic patterns, giving you the feeling that a person you knew is different... and off... They took the child like and joyful design of Callie and made her into a more mature and intimidating presence.

Now i wanna quickly go over when the shades get shot off of her as some people say that Callie lost her memories when the shades were put on her and removing them brought back her memories.

When it comes to being put into a hypnotic state, it's very dream like and incredibly relaxing, its essentially similar to a flow state when you're deeply concentrated on a task. So imagine a god damn ink bullet flying at your face at incredible speed, flinging you out of that state quickly and seeping ink into your eye. Yeah, it would hurt like hell and leave you completely dazed, right?

Some people who go under hypnosis can experience headaches, dizziness, nausea, and if you look at Callie when the shades are removed, guess what, she's holding her head in pain and is completely dazed, unable to properly speak and is left to only sing and dance as it comes natural to her cause she's an Idol.

What i think is happening here is that Callie, after being removed from the hypnotic state, starts thinking more rationally for a moment and realizes that Marie does care for her and has come to get her. She remembers all the good memories they had together from hearing the Calamari Inkantation, the song doesn't free people from brainwashing or mind control as some people tend to believe, it's just an insanely catchy song that motivates those who hear it. It probably gave her mind a positive boost and she remembers all the wonderful memories she had with Marie, getting rid of the negativity and darkness in Callie's head that flooded her rational thinking and made her more emotional and impulsive. People who experience mental illness have foggy minds and you can ask someone who has or had anxiety or depression on what it's like. Trust me, it's not fun.

After Callie returns to the outpost, she shows regret and tells Agent 4 that she's sorry for trying to kill them and promises that she's on the "up and up! Promise!" If Callie was truly kidnapped and then brainwashed against her consent she would be putting all the blame on Octavio and would show some amount of anger towards him, but she doesn't. I wonder why huh? Hmm. Maybe that popular narrative online is far from what actually happened huh?

With that information laid out, it makes the Bomb Rush Blush remix, Tidal Rush and Spicy Calamari Inkantation work way more as emotional tracks. The Bomb Rush Blush remix still having it's cheery sounding elements but mixed with more sinister and dark undertones, even including the Onward! jingle to show how far Callie has descended into villainy. Tidal Rush being an emotional and powerful song where Marie reaches out to her cousin in a very sad sounding way as her voice sounds broken and desperate. Callie trying her hardest not to listen to Marie and shutting her down as she wants nothing to do with her anymore after their relationship has been damaged.

Spicy Calamari Inkantation sounds more triumphant and joyful if you take all the context into account, Callie finally breaking free from the darkness clouding her mind and singing alongside her cousin in a much more expanded version of Calamari Inkantation that sounds more full and complete, including new sections by Callie and Marie and the melody of City of Color spliced in there for good measure.

With that LONG explanation of Hypno/Octo Callie, it's now time to move on the next character, and this where things somehow get more weird than a pair of hypnotic shades...

Sanitized Agent 3

Now this is where things get really tricky because the whole concept of sanitization is quite unclear until Side Order and it's basically boiled down to "zombie mind control goop" created by Commander Tartar in order to remove "life's energies" and effectively have lifeless zombies under it's control. However Agent 3 was only partially sanitized so it's unclear on what is exactly going on here. But before we can get to that, we need to discuss how they got to that state.

Before Agent 8 and Cap'n Cuttlefish turned into a nice strawberry smoothie, Agent 3 came to save them after receiving a distress signal from Marina. Agent 3 slammed themselves into the blender, rendering them unconscious which becomes important later on.

After some time Agent 3 gets taken away off screen and then gets partially sanitized and ties up Cap'n Cuttlefish.

So what is happening here? Is Agent 3 brainwashed here? Well not exactly, what i think is going on is that Commander Tartar put that sanitized ink on Agent 3's head to have a direct connection to them to take control over their body and use them as a vessel, to protect it and stop Agent 8 from destroying it's plans. Agent 3 while partially sanitized acts more cold and aggressive, even disabling their special limiter as told by Marina.

An important line of dialogue from Cap'n Cuttlefish states that Agent 3's mind was "hijacked" meaning that Commander Tartar has taken over their body and is using them like a puppet to stop Agent 8. While i don't like to base all of my evidence on the English dialogue, from my knowledge there is no retranslated dialogue of the fight online, if there is let me know so i can have a look at it.

Agent 3 was most likely completely unaware of this as they were knocked out and only woke up at the end of Octo Expansion after the NILS Statue was destroyed. They had no idea on what happened and were probably told about it after it was all over.

Agent 3 was also NOT hypnotized as sanitization has no hypnosis element to it. People who say they were are flat out wrong. They were not necessarily brainwashed either as they were completely unconscious and could not have had their ideals and morals warped by Commander Tartar. You can't really pressure an unconscious body to follow your ideals you know?

We don't get a lot of screentime with Sanitized Agent 3 but from the small moment we did get, it definitely left a strong impression and the amazing Splattack remix helped as well. Taking the once iconic song and mixing it and blending into a distorted chaotic track with elements from the DnB genre such as fast drum beats and loud wailing sirens, showing the danger of Agent 3. It really shows that Agent 3, our player character from Splatoon 1 has been morphed and twisted into a sanitized monster that's trying to murder you. It's like a virus has invaded the song and is taking control, much like what happened to Agent 3, unconscious and put to sleep as their body is being used by Commander Tartar to carry out it's goals.

Now it's time to move to the final character, the loser of the Final Fest, The Administrator of Order...

Marina Agitando

Now much like Agent 3, its sort of vague in terms of how exactly Marina ended up this way as we don't see it play out on screen. What we know is that during the development of the Memverse, Marina created an ai that would be the overseer of the Spire of Order. However due to unknown circumstances it went rogue and got into Marina's mind according to her, either she meant it literally and Overlorder possessed her, or it brainwashed her and took advantage of Marina's deep desire to yearn for a world of order and stability and warped her mind to accomplish that goal.

But, from the hints we do have as well as an interview from the developers after Side Order released, Marina was not brainwashed or hypnotized, but instead was knocked unconscious and then possessed by Overlorder. You can hear it's voice during Marina Agitando's dialogue under Marina's, heck the dialogue she says is more robotic and static, much like Overlorder's. She speaks like a robot in this form which is vastly different from how Callie speaks when under the shades where she's chaotic and loud like her original self times but on another level.

Marina being unconscious and not remembering what happened is also supported in the Side Order Famitsu interview released a while after the DLC came out which states that Marina doesn't remember making her solo song "Unconscience." When she is rescued and freed from the Controller VM, she appears like she's woken up from a bad nap.

Marina as Marina Agitando acts very robotic and cold, her movements are jittery and mechanical as Overlorder uses her body like a giant meat puppet. Her attacks are in time with the music and she shakes all about when firing attacks. It's pretty gross to see the once cheerful and adorable Marina in a state where she's this giant woman entangled in a giant pulsating tentacle that beats and restricts her. It's both sad and pretty damn scary.

She doesn't even recognize Pearl and Agent 8 unlike Callie who still recognizes Marie while under the shades. Marina just calls them "intruders" and is immediately hostile towards them.

Aside from that, there really isn't that much to talk about when it comes to Marina Agitando because she has arguably the shortest amount of screentime out of the three. But i will say that the design is excellent, using the Order outfit as a base and adding body horror elements to it, with her being trapped in a giant tentacles and weird metal pipes coming from the sides that pump out this weird red energy, like veins. Her constant smiling during the battle, the little DJ poses she does but they've become so lifeless and robotic, much like the ai possessing her. The sweet and funky girl is gone, replaced with a machine hell bent on order and will kill anything that gets in it's way.

The song too "Unconscience" is an absolute bop and is a stark contrast from Marina's usual music. It's an ear worm of a song that will get stuck in your head, and if they designed it like that way on purpose than bravo on the music team for Splatoon.

Conclusion.

Why did i make this? Why spend the time and effort to make something like this? Well, as a fan of these characters, i wanna see them well represented and their stories shared properly in the community. Seeing people use the incorrect terms when describing Hypno Callie and Marina Agitando despite the two literally being so vastly different in personality and "affliction." Making Callie's situation way worse by saying she was snatched up randomly, then brainwashed while struggling and losing her memories, treating her as some victim of abuse when the story the writers wanted to tell was a story about the broken relationship between Callie and Marie, and them finally coming together for each other and maturing, it's literally shown in the songs Tidal Rush and Fresh Start for god sake. I find it incredibly frustrating when i see people put in the effort to make these giant timeline videos, translate interviews and then they drop the fucking ball for Callie in Splatoon 2 for some god damn reason. Every. Single. Time.

While i don't feel as strongly for Agent 3 and Marina Agitando, Hypno Callie was the catalyst for me to look deeper into these corruption arcs and find all the interesting details and tidbits about these forms. Marina Agitando was such a hype moment for me when i first played Side Order and it took something we all expected to happen but gave us a little twist on it by making her the very first boss of the dlc.

Seeing Agent 3 again and the Splatoon devs wanting to look back on the past in an interesting way was so exciting to see. It paved the way for the series to reflect on itself and celebrate earlier entries.

Because of the misconceptions online about what truly happened to Callie, i felt this pain in my chest, i was unable to enjoy the concept of an evil Callie, i was unable to listen to the Splatoon 2 hero mode level music without feeling some sort of uncomfortable pain. It literally impacted my day to day living because my brain became SO attached to this squid woman. I couldn't accept the false narrative online, the abusive and disgusting view on my comfort character. A character i find joy and love in. Twisted and turned into something that brings me genuine discomfort.

Splatoon 2's story was handled poorly and caused literally EVERYONE to think that Callie is some abused victim that got kidnapped and turned evil by force by a creepy old ass octopus, when its SOOO far from the case.

There's probably people out there who feel the same way towards Marina Agitando and Sanitized Agent 3. No one likes to see their comfort character misrepresented and i hope you feel heard and that your views matter too. It's okay to look deeper into these characters, it's okay to not wanna accept the common narrative and find and present your own findings to everyone. If it makes you feel better and that chest in your pain subsides afterwards, then go for it. Please.

Thank you so much for reading this, I'm sure there's gonna be some people who disagree and share their own evidence and that is okay. As long as you don't try to push your views onto me or others then you have a right to have your own perspectives about these 3.

Seriously, thank you for spending the time to read this and hearing me out. I hope you have an awesome day : )

Sources:

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron's, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

There aren’t many summer jobs in Hammer Ford, but you promised your parents you would find something. Without any response from the grocery store, cafe, or library, your search is hopeless. That’s until you ran into Rose Cameron.

“Weren’t you valedictorian?” She asked.

The scene plays over in your head as you step off your bike to walk it up the hill. What luck that she found you picking out flowers with your mother. Almost as if she’d been looking for you.

“Uh, yeah, last year,” you smiled. 

It’s been a year since high school ended, since then you’d spent two semesters outside the hamlet. In the city, people don’t just come up to you for no reason, and rarely a good one. Nor do they know you by name. Your home town seems more quaint the longer you’re away from campus.

“Great, I need a tutor,” she tutted, “how’s fifty an hour?”

You shake your head as you straddle your bike again. It’s an offer you really can’t pass up, even if the Camerons weren’t the most friendly family in Hammer Ford. It doesn’t matter as long as you can tell your parents you have a job.

You pedal east towards the house on the hill. You’ve never been up there. Not even in high school when everyone was going on about the ragers at the Cameron ranch. It was never really your scene. That and you weren’t invited.

You slow as you approach the low fence, breathless as you stop by the closed gate. Do you let yourself in? There’s a gold bell mounted on the post. You ring it and it sends a thunderous toll through the air. 

You wait, looking around, though you don’t know if anyone’s coming. Someone appears across the field. You recognise Ward Cameron as he nears, waving a gloved hand as he does.

“Hi, Mr. Cameron, um…” you hold onto your handlebars and dismount, “Rose, uh, asked me to drop by.”

“Sure thing,” he unhooks the inside of the gate, “I was just brushing Juliet.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile.

“You can work in the dining room if that works, or the back porch? It’s pretty nice out,” he lets you through the gate and secures it before he points you towards the house. “Really glad you could come out. We went to an agency in the city but they wanted us to go to them.”

“Um, yeah, sure, no problem,” you peer over at a foal and its mother in a pen, “nice place.”

“You think so? Does it look different in the day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, I know about the parties,” he chortles, “it’s fine.”

“Well, I never…” you rub the back of your neck, “anyway, I guess we can study where Sarah wants.”

“Sarah?”

“Oh, erm, Wheezie?” You wonder.

“Did Rose not… explain?”

“I… assumed, well, she just said you needed a tutor so I thought…” You blink and chew your lip, “Rafe?”

He laughs again, “the one and only. We’re tryna get him back in good graces. He has a conditional offer in the city but he has to take an entrance exam.”

“Right,” you try not to show your discomfort. 

Rafe is a year older than you. Even so, he never failed to knock your books out of your hands or laugh in your direction. When he graduated, the student populace sighed in relief but he only made it through one semester in college before he flunked out.

“He’s not the kind for ranch work,” Ward says as he gestures you up the front steps, “frankly, I don’t know what he’s cut out for but a degree will at least give him some prospects.”

“Mhmm,” you drone nervously. If Rose had said so, you may not have been so eager. You just assumed it would be one of the two Wards still enrolled in school.

“He should be around–” he pulls open the front door and lets you in first.

You step aside to slip your shoes off as he hollers for Rafe. You glance out the screen door and wonder if you can come up with a good excuse. Your mind is racing but you come up with nothing. 

“What?” Rafe snarls as he traipses in through a broad archway.

“Tutor’s here,” Ward says.

“Tutor?” Rafe mutters.

“I told you,” he chides, “go get your books.”

“Dad, I told you, I’ll write the damn test–”

“And you’ll pass,” Ward insists, “books. Now.”

Rafe huffs and stomps upstairs. You turn around to watch him go. Ward shakes his head and beckons you onwards. You marvel at the neat interior. It’s all a lot more modern than the rest of Hammer Ford. A rustic contemporary mix of sleek white and faded pine.

“Feel free to help yourself to some water, or there’s a Keurig,” Ward offers, “I’d get you some myself but…” he holds up his gloved hands, “I doubt you like the taste of horse hair.”

You smile and nod as you slip your bag off your shoulder. 

“Thanks, uh, I’m good,” you say.

“Don’t let him get to you. I know how he can be. He gives you any trouble, I’ll deal with him.”

“Sure, uh, no, shouldn’t be an issue,” you shrug, though you sound less than convincing.

“I’ll be around,” he says and taps the door frame as he leaves.

You sit as he goes and you open your laptop on the table. Your parents bought the used model for your first year of college. It’s a bit slow but it works. You’ll just need the wifi.

A sudden slam makes you yipe and jolts the table. You look up as Rafe stands across from you, scowling. Behind your laptop, there’s several textbooks and a notebook with curling pages. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.

“Oh, hey,” you eke out, “uh, so… we can start on comprehensive literature–”

“Fuck off, dork,” he drops into the chair. 

“Well I… your dad–”

“My dad wants me to sit here and waste his money, sure thing,” he crosses his arms and rolls his eyes, “but i’m not takin’ no lessons from you.”

“Right, well, I…” you don’t know what to say. “Can I have the wifi at least?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your question as he pulls out his phone. You think he’s looking it up but he just sits and scrolls, his floppy hair drooping down his forehead. You fidget and flutter your fingers listlessly over the keyboard.

You should just go but you need the money. You close the laptop and reach for one of the textbooks. You open it and smooth the pages with your hand.

“Right, rules of grammar,” you begin, “nouns, pronouns, verbs–”

“Fucking dweeb,” he drops his phone and stands up, “for someone so smart, you sure are fucking dumb.”

“Identifying sentences…” you focus on the page as he paces.

“You think you’re so fucking clever,” he startles you as he pulls out the chair next to you, sitting in it as his elbow hits the table.

“Read the following and underline–” you angle the book towards him, silence by a jarring squeeze on your throat.

You recoil as his hand closes on the front of your neck and you push yourself back in the chair. You grab his wrist and choke, wiggling in your seat. What is he doing?

“What–”

“Shhhhh,” he puts his finger to his lips then presses it to yours, “you talk too much.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, pulling helplessly on his arm. He smirks as he leans forward, pulling you towards him.

“You think you’re better than me?” He snarls, “let’s see about that.”

[calaisreno]

Yes and No

“Do you love her?”

It had taken them less than thirty minutes to go from the Rizla game to just asking each other random questions. The only celebrities that Sherlock knew were nineteenth-century chemists and twentieth-century criminals, which had more or less spoiled the game, and Sherlock had declared it pointless.

Then he suggested Yes or No, which at least required some deductive reasoning, and John agreed. But Sherlock was very good at this game, having deduced nearly everything about John in the first days of their acquaintance. Without asking any question, he deduced that John would choose violin, a human liver, Mrs Hudson’s nephew, and Sherlock’s old mouse-coloured dressing gown.

John gives up. “Fine. What don’t you know about me?”

Do you love her is a real question, he gathers— from the look on Sherlock’s face, which is serious and a bit sad.

The answer, which should be yes, of course I love her, instead comes out, “I’m marrying her.”

“People marry for reasons other than—“ Sherlock stops, appearing to realise he is going in a direction that can only lead to bad feelings. “Sorry, not a fair question. Better: When did you know that you loved her?”

He remembers grief. The intense pain of the days after he saw Sherlock die on the sidewalk in front of Barts. There are few details he can recall after that moment. It was as if the pain had receded just enough to let him breathe, and a kind of grey fog had descended. Pain, then sorrow.

Somewhere during the sorrow part, Mary had appeared. She may have been there sooner, but he hadn’t noticed. At some point he became aware of her bringing him coffee, talking to him, urging him to come out for lunch. Always there, cheerfully bullying him back into life. Eventually he noticed that he wasn’t quite as sad, and that she was rather pretty.

But the pain was still there, a tender spot in his memory, and most days he still felt defeated. Mary helped, though, and he thought that if she stayed, everything would be easier. He didn’t need to explain; she understood. He could keep the memories at bay when she was around.

By then he was having sex with her. He didn’t remember exactly how that had begun. Maybe it was a pity fuck one night when he’d had too much to drink. He woke up in her bed hungover, waiting for the darkness to descend like a weight on his chest, and she was there, making him a cup of tea, urging him to have some toast, sweetly solicitous and not accepting any excuses.

Does he love her?

Sherlock is still looking at him, the question in his eyes.

“She was there when I needed someone,” he says. “I just knew.”

He’d known that morning that he needed to move on, to leave what had happened in the past and live his life. And there she was.

“Your turn,” Sherlock says.

John thinks of all the things he’s ever wanted to know about Sherlock, but has never asked because it has never seemed a good time. Sherlock has a way of warding off questions with just a look. An armour that does not allow anyone in, not even John. He’s wondered about a lot of things, but asking has never been an option. Sherlock never has to ask; he simply deduces. John is terrible at deductions, as Sherlock often reminds him.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Sherlock doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. Twice.”

“That was a yes-no question, so I get follow-up. So, the first. Who was he?”

Sherlock smiles. “You’re assuming it was a man.”

“Wasn’t it? I thought… you’re… erm…”

“Gay? Yes, I am.”

“You loved a man,” John says. Obviously.

“Well, a boy. I was twelve. I suppose it wasn’t love so much as infatuation and hormones. His name was Victor. I never told him until I met him again at uni.” He gives John one of those looks that makes him feel like he is being x-rayed. “Have you ever kissed a man?”

“I’m not gay,” he says at once. “I mean, why would I kiss a man if I knew I wasn’t gay?”

“Follow-up question, then. When did you know you were not gay?”

John’s mouth may have been open for a bit. It’s an odd question. Everybody knows they’re straight until something happens and they know they’re not. Isn’t that the way it works? “I just knew. When did you know you were gay?”

“When I was twelve. I was at a stupid birthday party my mother made me attend, and we were playing Forfeit. I was asked a question I didn’t like to answer and took the forfeit. Up until then the penalties were stupid things like singing a song or doing a dance, but this time it was kissing a girl. The girl was willing, and I was curious, so I agreed. That was when I realised girls weren’t my cup of tea, so to speak. I wanted to kiss Victor.”

John says nothing, though it’s his turn. He remembers a similar party, a boy who wanted to kiss him, and feeling terrified that his parents would find out if he did. Harry had just come out, and he was trying very hard to make up for all of her shortcomings.

Sherlock asks, “How do you know you’re not gay if you’ve never kissed a man?”

“I’ve kissed lots of women,” he replies. “I don’t need to kiss a man to know I’m not gay.”

Sherlock shrugs. “I assumed that I was like everyone else, that some day I would meet the right girl, get married, and have children. That was how it was supposed to work, and I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn’t like girls that way. All my fantasies were about boys, but I thought I would eventually be attracted to girls as I got older. That kiss told me I would never love a woman.”

“You think I should kiss a man just to see if I’m a bit gay?” He laughs.

“It’s your forfeit, for not having an answer.”

“I’m not going to kiss some random bloke just because you—“

“Not a random bloke. Me. Kiss me.”

This is dangerous ground. Somewhere in his libido lies something that he’s thought about. Maybe he’s even fantasised about kissing a man. Having sex with a man. Just a lark, maybe. Don’t lots of men go through that? It doesn’t mean anything.

But, Sherlock. He lived with him for a year and a half, and they’d been friends. And he grieved when Sherlock died. Not grieved like a friend. He’d lost friends before, and this was nothing like those losses. Pain, darkness, unending regret. Even after Mary, some of that darkness remained. Moments when he remembered something Sherlock had said or done, a stab of pain. If it hadn’t been for Mary—

And it came to him. Mary was balm for his wounds. She brought him back from the edge. He is grateful to her. But gratitude isn’t love. Being in such pain for so long, and then a bit of light— that isn’t love, it’s relief. He’s seen patients in physical pain become almost giddy when given a dose of something that takes their agony away, not even enough to make them high. Relief feels like intoxication when pain has gone on so long.

If it hadn’t been for Mary, he would have understood what he’d only begun to see. She helped him, saved him even. But she was a distraction from the pain, not a cure.

He glances at Sherlock, who is pulling back, looking like he wishes he hadn’t just asked for a kiss. Maybe he’ll make a joke about their game, move them towards goodnight, goodbye, see you at the wedding.

“Yes,” he says. It’s an answer to everything— regret, grief, sorrow, love. It’s an apology for not seeing sooner, for the night at the Landmark, for his anger and cruel rejection of the man he has loved for years. “Kiss me.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Sherlock is right. The kiss tells John things he’s tried hard to forget. It tells him that has loved men before, but called it friendship, that he has wanted to touch men and kiss them, and called it lust, or fantasy, or a phase that all men go through. Women attract him too, and he grabbed onto heterosexuality like a life-raft because he was afraid of the alternative. His sister and his father, yelling. Harry thrown out of the house. His father, looking at him, saying not you too. Never you, my boy.

The kiss tells him that has already met the love of his life.

“I need to call Mary,” he says when they break away.

Sherlock looks sad. He nods. “Of course.”

“One more question,” John says. “Who was the second person you loved?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says. “I’m about to call my fiancee and break our engagement just days before the wedding because I’m in love with my best friend. So please, answer the question.”

Sherlock’s face does something John has never seen. It crumples and tears fill his eyes, and then he’s laughing and crying and not able to speak.

John kisses him again.

Author note: This is an old ficlet, from Trifles, posted here.