#i mean i guess his other grandfather played sports

[tskumoyuuma]

WAIT lucas giolitos grandfather plays dr Hayward in twin peaks and also his uncle is mark frost who co created twin peaks ......

#personal shizz #but then he was like 'nah im playing baseball' i guess 😂😂 #this is v funny to me #i mean i guess his other grandfather played sports #but like .. now hes just gonna be in my mind as the child of twin peaks sorry #also didnt kno the actor for hayward was also mark frosts dad #the things u learn every day

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies about the girlies…! And about the Leech parents.

Anonymous asked:

So it’s from AA cup to F cup?

Judging by how they ended up looking, I guess it’s from AAA to FF lol

I am kind of bad at cup sizes though, and also bad at consistency, but at least that was the idea!

Anonymous asked:

How big are the cup sizes of the other genderswapped twst characters (I.e. the staff, Neige, Chenya, Rollo)

I actually talked about their cup sizes as well as what type of bra they would wear in this reply!

But to update: now I think that Crewel is an A and Trein is a C. I don’t know, just feel like it, maybe it’s because of Cruella and Lady Tremaine lol

Also here are those who I didn’t mention: Vargas is easily the biggest one out of the staff, so around D (+wears a sports bra, naturally); Sam isn’t big, somewhere between A and B, and doesn’t usually wear a bra; Crowley is a C… she just is. I can’t really explain any of this lol  

Anonymous asked:

Why does it look like fem Ace and Deuce are scissoring each other?

They always are…constantly…even though they’re bad at it…

They aren’t on this sketch though, but maybe Ace suggested it, that would explain Deuce’s reaction lol

Anonymous asked:

When you’re so thirsty, you grabbing your own boob *eyeballs floyd* On a serious note, I can’t get over how well you draw breasts. I get mad just drawing them under clothes 😔

Yeah, Floyd is probably the one to do that all the time without even thinking about it. She likes to squeeze lol

Also, thank you very much, Anon! I don’t draw them very often, so I am very happy to hear that you like how they look. Looking at tons of pictures and art (R18 obviously included hehe) and sketching helped me a lot…

Anonymous asked:

women...... you draw them so fine omfg

Thank youuuu 🥰 I love them

Anonymous asked:

I love the size, shape, and little difference between each woman. Not only in the pretty 👀 but in body shape and hair situation as well. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful (and dangerous) garden!

Thank you so much, Anon!

I am very excited to share, I’ve been thinking about them for so long before actually finally drawing them all… so it means a lot to hear that you like them <3

Anonymous asked:

was looking back through my liked posts and I saw your drawings of meleanor, and of some of the other twst extras, and it made me curious since now that book 7 is coming out in english will you be drawing more or the new characters like prince Levan, or the knight of dawns? Also a bit of a self-indulgent ask because I want to see sebeks hot ass grandfather in your artstyle :>

We don’t play the game, Anon, so the EN release doesn’t really concern us; we haven’t watched book 7 yet at all.

But when we do, I’m pretty sure I will draw at least some of the characters from it! Definitely more Meleanor and definitely Sebek’s grandpa because how fucking dares he be voiced by Koyasu of all people. I kind of wanted to draw him even before that point (just like Meleanor, I couldn’t resist, to be honest lol), but didn’t really have time for him…

Anonymous asked:

do you have any more leech parents thoughts or possible scenarios?

+

Anonymous asked:

I like to think that papa Leech would also be quite happy with Vil, even though admittedly this is based entirely on a headcanon. Since the boys found out in a vignette that one of his favorite movies has Eric Venue starring in it, I like the idea that papa Leech became a big fan of him. I guess this means that more than liking Vil himself (although he is very charming in his own right), he would like the chance to get closer to his favorite actor through their kids relationship

To the first Anon, I’m sorry for the late reply, I’ll share more thoughts in a moment. Starting with the Vil scenario!

I agree with you, second Anon! We talked about it in this reply, but very briefly.

Whether it’s Jade or Floyd who brings Vil to their house, Papa Leech is going to be super excited because he’d recognise the boy instantly. Somehow, their dinner with the Leech parents would end up looking more like a handshake event lol With Papa Leech asking a lot of questions about Eric and stuff. Even if Vil isn’t dating any of his sons, just the fact that he is their senpai would make Papa Leech super excited. Mama Leech would probably apologise for his behavior, but not in a genuine way, but just to make the situation even more awkward for Vil. Thank god Vil knows how to handle it… probably… maybe…

Vil would also make such a pretty betta merman…

But ALSO!!! If Floyd or Jade (or both) bring Idia to meet their parents, Idia would be absolutely terrified; he would be terrified either way, but the Leech parents are especially intimidating and scary. But they would love him a lot! Not only because he is the Shroud’s oldest boy (connections are important), but because of how his demeanor and his frankly exciting sparkly look. They would stare at him without blinking, showering him with attention. And they would tease him a lot, maybe even more that they would tease Riddle. Because Riddle is just an overly serious baby, but Idia? He is so visibly uncomfortable and scared; teasing him is absolutely priceless. Papa Leech would sit very close to him and look very intimidating, maybe touch his hair, ask him what he is so scared of. Ask about which one of their sons Idia likes the most (neither… please let him go…), a lot of other questions that sound like “there is no correct answer, you are screwed either way, but I am having fun, so you’ll at least survive maybe”. And then Mama Leech would tell Papa Leech not to freak out this poor boy, start stroking Idia’s hand, talk to him in a sweet motherly tone that doesn’t sound even remotely comforting. Somehow… these two are even worse than Jade and Floyd…

A couple of very short HCs!

Mama Leech is a huge gossip. She knows everything about everyone.

Mama Leech doesn’t cook, but it’s a secret, because she wants to keep the image of a perfect traditional wife.

Papa Leech used to operate on land too when he was younger. He still does sometimes, but very rarely.

Papa Leech thinks Azul is a great influence on his boys and wants them to learn everything they could from this friendship before getting rid of him (if he stops being such a great influence).

While the family bond is strong, the entire Leech family is aware that one of them might betray the rest at any given moment. That doesn’t mean that they don’t cherish family tradition and history.

#replies #headcanons

[themarvelhorse]

Oversharing with 15 answers to 15 questions! Tagged by @paeonia-horse, thanks!

You know, some of these questions seem familiar. Maybe I answered this a while back? Maybe my answers will be different this time around.

Are you named after anyone? Yeah, I'm named after my great grandfather.

When was the last time you cried? Oooh jeez uh, I think there were probably a few moments here and there before the one I'm about to give where I teared up but I definitely cried at my best friend's brother's funeral just before Christmas.

Do you have kids? I don't but people ask me this often. Do I want kids? Not if it means having them with the life I'm currently living lmao.

What sports do you play/have you played? Willingly? Ah, I never really got in any particular sport. I've enjoyed casual running, and played squash with friends.

Do you use sarcasm? Not as much as I used to. It's started to feel mean, and also ineffective when sarcasm can't be read by certain people.

What is the first thing you notice about people? Face and friendliness?

What is your eye color? The colour of dry dirt.

Scary movies or happy endings? Are you trying to ask me if I prefer tragedy or comedy? The more optimistic one I suppose.

Any talents? I'm very good at flipping coins. Round and round it goes, how it lands? Nobody knows!

Where were you born? What are you? A security question? Anyway, I was born in the land of Mordor in the fires of Mount Doom, where the dark lord Sauron forged me in secret. And into me he poured his cruelty, his malice, and his will to dominate all life.

What are your hobbies? Analyzing stuff as the brain goblins take over. Activism, I guess. Fantasizing about the creative projects I could do if I had the time or resources (Damn I even stopped playing video games in the past year). Also repairing whatever I can repair around the house. I spent two afternoons hyperfixating on getting my dad's espresso machine to work. And it did!

Do you have any pets? Dad's got a dog I've been taking care of.

How tall are you? What are you, a cop? Or one of those height measuring things in Shoppers to record the heights of shoplifters? Somewhere between 5'6 and 5'10.

Favorite subject in school? Geography and environment. Lo' and behold I kept going with that lol.

Dream job? Hard to answer this one. If I were to think about it in terms of "What invigorates me", I'd come up short. Got perpetual burnout, so it's probably a symptom of other things that have to be addressed somehow.

Maybe in a system that doesn't push you to exhaustion as much as possible, I think I'd like to be a repairperson, partly cause of the aforementioned hyperfixations that occur when wanting to figure out how to fix stuff. Either that or barista, again, in an idyllic world that with few terrible customers and sufficient resources and staff.

Tagging @jameshoppy, @allyooops, @acryweaver, @marvelandponder, and @jade-mod!

As Paeonia said, if you do chose to do this, take care not to make yourself vulnerable to password stealing

[masterwords]

break another little bit of my heart now

Summary: Hotch & Jess in college...I guess? Hotch's dad is dying, and he's being sucked in to helping his mom out with preparation.

Pairing: none

Warnings: a lot of talk about death & some mentions of abuse

Words: 4.6k

Notes: Set in the same universe as We Shall Be Monsters, Emotion Sickness, How It Feels to have a Heartbeat and Hold Out the Palm of Your Hand...I'll probably create a landing page to pull all of these together when I stop being lazy.

**

“His name is Gerald,” she said quietly, rifling through her small purse for what he presumed was a business card. His feet were cold and he wiggled his toes inside of his shoes, delighting in the memory of his morning spent trudging around through icy thick mud at the bank of the creek. Their little sanctuary. Barefoot, he and Sean laughed and whined about the cold mud slurping up between their toes, but never once thought that putting back on socks and shoes would be an appropriate fix. No, they needed that mud.

Their father was dying, that they both knew though in very different ways. And they cared differently, too. Sean was ten and his understanding of the finality of death was shaky at best, but he was sad and needed a distraction from a weight far too heavy for his young years. He'd been watching their father steadily decline for years. Aaron, on the other hand, felt no sadness for the man's eventual passing, and he hadn't been there to watch most of it. The way he wasted away, the way he changed from a man whose shadow features and pinched scowl were mean enough to melt paint off of a brand new car...the man who used his fists more than his words...no, Aaron wasn't going to be sad. Except for Sean.

“I found a butt!” Sean shouted, and Aaron leapt up from his perch on a large rounded boulder and felt his feet sink deep into the squelchy muck. He ran for Sean, forgetting momentarily his nearly twenty-one years and reverting back to a youthful pleasure at finding the remnants of crawfish shells and interesting rocks. Aaron was finding more rusted out sharp-edged bottle caps, beer bottles and soda bottles alike. New and old. Treasures.

“Gerald, got it,” he said, returning from his reverie reluctantly when she nudged the business card into his hand. Zip went his boyhood, disappeared, turned to dust. Now he stood, a young man about to meet with an attorney to go over his father's will, his plans for the family's future, things he had no vested interest in any longer.

“Don't be late. He's expecting you in ten minutes.”

He was late, on purpose. Let his mother pay for the extra few minutes of time, he needed to walk, to get his head straight. That Mercedes in the parking lot, so out of place among rusted old pick-up trucks and barely chained bicycles had to belong to him, and inside he managed to pick out the attorney without any trouble. There was Merle and Wilma, seated in their usual corner (same place they'd been seated for the same Saturday lunch for the last thirty years) and there was Roy Brooks playing dice with Stuart Mason. He nodded to them, received the customary condolence nod back...the whole town knew that his father wasn't long for the world.

“Aaron Hotchner, I presume?” The lawyer stood and shook his arm free of his burnt orange sport coat, the over-sized Rolex on his arm catching on the material. Aaron shook his hand quickly, an impressive pump, a man's shake. His father taught him some things. “Have a seat. I already ordered...” That statement, pointed as it was, Aaron let roll right off of his shoulders. Yes, you've ordered because I was late, but see...I just don't give a fuck. That's what he would like to have said, but he smiled a little sheepishly and nodded.

And then he apologized for his tardiness. Like a coward, he told himself. Like a damn coward.

Aaron had known the owners of this diner his whole life. His grandfather brought him here every Sunday morning for coffee and donuts (or, hot chocolate in a coffee mug when he was too small for coffee), so he was never given the opportunity to order. Darcy brought him out a peanut butter milkshake and a hamburger with a huge pickle right alongside Gerald's full plate of bacon and eggs and hashbrowns covered in thick, yellow hollandaise. The richness of it turned Aaron's stomach. He'd never been one for that kind of heavy food, it never sat well.

“Your father's will is pretty straightforward, there shouldn't be any issue with execution...when the time comes...” Gerald faltered, and Aaron cringed knowing what came next. The backtrack, the sympathetic show of support. “I'm very sorry about all of this. Martin has been a good friend for a long time. I remember, we were on a course down in Palm Springs when he told me that Grace was pregnant. Never saw him so happy.”

Aaron tried to force a look that would read as anything other than pure confusion, but he barely managed just this side of distress. Gerald didn't seem to notice though, he'd said his piece and now it was back to business.

“Pretty cut and dry. Your mother gets the estate, of course, aside from the few specific items he's willed to others. Your brother Sean will receive the Cadillac, for instance. And let me see if I can...oh...” he paused on the second page and Aaron thought his skin turned just the slightest shade of gray. He could almost predict the next words. “There are a few discrepancies here I'll need to speak to your mother about.”

“He cut me out,” Aaron offered, stirring the milkshake with the absurdly long spoon. “You don't need to hide it. He told me he would.”

Gerald frowned. “Why would he...”

“I assume it was because I chose to attend George Washington University instead of going to Georgetown, but who knows. It could be that he doesn't care for my haircut, or perhaps he's simply telling me for the last time that he's only got one son.”

The conversation stalled there, and Aaron finished his meal in thoughtful silence while Gerald poured over the remainder of the will with a puzzled look on his face. “I'll need to speak with your mother before we proceed.”

“My bus leaves in two hours, I really should go get packed. Are we finished here?”

That was it, he had nothing more to say. Darcy refused his money, the way he walked toward her was haunting and eerie in its sublime quiet. No way that meeting went well, she knew by the way his shoulders slouched though he tried to hide it. He wanted desperately not to be disappointed in his father, not to disappoint his father...for some reason he still sought his approval...and the time was near enough now that he'd have to call it on that forever. There could be no hope of redemption for them.

“Thank you, Mrs. Emerson,” he said when shook her head and pushed his cash right back at him. “It was great as always.”

“Bless you, boy. Come see me next time you're in town, okay?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

(x)

“Where the hell were you this weekend?!”

Jessica was standing there in the middle of his apartment with her hand on her hip, her blonde curls unruly and thrown up on top of her head. Aaron stopped dead in his tracks, stricken, his eyes flickering wildly toward the clock posted on the otherwise barren wall. It was a clean focal point in the midst of his confusion.

“What...why are you here?”

The apartment was chilly, a window thrown open even though it was a blustery windy fall day. He would rather have had the heater going full blast. The card table that he and his roommate were using as a sort of makeshift dining room table was taken over by a huge, messy game of Risk. He couldn't seem to sort out the scene, make it make sense.

“I called you three times on Friday, left you messages on your machine...” Long, rambling, urgent messages she implied but didn't say aloud. Some things were better left unsaid between them.

“Okay, well lets operate under the assumption that I never got those messages. Enlighten me.” He was, perhaps, a little shorter with her than he intended but he was feeling a little out of sorts. His weekend had been less than ideal, definitely a far cry from relaxing. The diner visit was one of the more pleasant bits, looking back. At least he'd had a peanut butter shake.

She only made that little irritated puffing noise and flopped down on the couch. His couch. In the kitchen he could hear his roommate Dale tapping away on the counter, probably chopping something...god, he thought bitterly, if Jessica and Dale were sleeping together he might have to move out.

“A pipe burst in my building. A wave of shit water filled the whole basement, bio-hazard central. It's shit show. Literally.” She smiled, and eagerly awaited his. He didn't feel much like smiling but it was kind of funny so she managed to get a little smirk out of him. It was good enough. “Anyway. They kicked us all out for a week...you really didn't get my messages? I need a place to crash.”

“I told her she could stay!” Dale chirped from the kitchen over the new sound of sizzling. The apartment smelled like mushrooms and onions. Dale was a pretty incredible cook, and Aaron benefited greatly from this talent. “Hope you don't mind.”

Aaron groaned but shrugged. “It's fine. You've been in my bed, I presume?”

She barked out a laugh and he heard Dale chime in from the kitchen. “Well if you're implying I might have slept in Dale's bed...”

“That's a big fat negatory, soldier.”

“I'll move to the couch. No problemo.”

“No, the couch is fine for me. It's only a few days.” Aaron realized he hadn't moved, the door was still open, he was still standing there like he didn't live there. Slowly he eased it shut behind him and folded his arms over his chest to stave off the chill of the place. “I would appreciate it if we could have the windows closed though.”

“You're such a wuss. Maybe if you ate some of this stuff Dale cooks sometimes you'd put some meat on your bones.”

“It's not even that bad!” Dale shouted, and Aaron groaned. They were going to gang up on him all week, that much was clear. They might not be sleeping together but they clearly shared one overworked brain cell. “It makes the place smell less like dirty socks.”

“If you did your laundry more than once a month, that might help the dirty sock smell,” Aaron grunted with a smirk, doing his best to shake off the filthy feeling of the last weekend. The way it made his soul ache. Jessica let out more laughs and pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, beckoning to him, begging him to sit down beside her. He did so only because the blanket was enticing.

“So,” she said quieter, maybe so Dale couldn't hear on purpose. “Wanna tell me where you were this weekend?”

“No,” he replied even softer than her voice, pulling the blanket tight around his shoulders and curling his long legs up beneath him. “I've got an hour to try and catch a little shut eye before my first class and I'd like to take advantage.”

“Okay. Okay...how about we go to lunch? You can tell me in the safety of our booth.” The booth, where secrets could be shared over plates of food. It was almost sacred.

He smiled and let his tired eyes drift shut. “Sure. But you're buying. I'm broke until Thursday...” He wasn't, not really, but the money in his account was money he refused to touch. Especially now.

(x)

“We'll start with a pot of tea and two huge bowls of hot and sour soup...” Jess said, already so in the habit of ordering for him that she didn't even ask. Truthfully, they'd moved into their apartments and found the restaurant that was the absolute closest to center for them to reach...and that was that. Chan's Dragon Inn, all decked out in jade tschotchkes and red vinyl seats and gold flecked everything. It was gaudy, and old, had a cigarette vending machine in the back hallway that was dimly lit, more like wandering through a carpeted cave that smelled like old ash toward the bar they weren't old enough to enter. Yet. Not that they couldn't have...this was the sort of establishment that might not care terribly much. Aaron liked the vending machine, though he rarely smoked. He liked to keep a pack on him when he felt too cold, when Jess hauled him to some concert he didn't want to be at or a movie he had no interest in seeing, it gave him an excuse to walk outside and have a few minutes to himself. It reminded him of Haley and Max and theater productions and as much as he hated the way it made his mouth dry and taste like rot, the way it hurt his lungs, he kept it up in small ways. When the future felt too big and he needed a little hug from the past.

“Okay. Give it to me. Where'd you spend your weekend?”

“Can we eat first?”

“Absolutely not. You went home to see Haley, didn't you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. She couldn't have been further from the truth. “No, I didn't. She's seeing Mark now, she called and told me that two weeks ago. It's fine. I'm okay with that.”

She made that irritated puffing noise again and bit into an egg roll that was definitely still too hot to eat. She gasped and made the sounds of desperation, her tongue now summarily burned, but gulped it down and tried to smile. “She's gonna marry you though.”

“That's still not where I went, so it really doesn't matter.”

“Okay, so you didn't go see Haley. Thennnnnnnnnn...you....” She had nothing left. Nothing she wanted to add anyway.

“You're so nosy,” he said quietly, defeated. “I went to help my mother with Sean.”

She rolled her eyes. It was an enormous, intensely dramatic display and he almost laughed out the spoonful of hot soup he'd just eaten. Nearly choked on a mushroom and gulped desperately while she responded. “She doesn't need your help with Sean. He's 10. By the time he was six he was practically babysitting me when I would come over.”

“Yes, under normal circumstances I'd agree...but our father went into the hospital this weekend. It sounds like he hasn't got much time left, she's already making hospice arrangements.”

Jessica briefly looked stricken, older under the harsh pendulum light dangling precariously over their table. Her eyes went wide and she seemed to be searching his own shadow features for a reaction, how he felt, how he was taking it. But how was he taking it? Well, right now, he simply wasn't. It hadn't even registered. Going home was simply a job. He made fifty dollars for staying at the house and writing essays while Sean did Sean things. Sometimes he even joined in the Sean things. He'd enjoyed their walk to the creek, the way the freezing water felt like it was burning his bare skin.

“Yeah, and she's also popping a ton of fucking pills...probably your dad's...and putting it all on you. Did you really drive all the way back there just to watch your brother for a weekend so your mom could go on a benzo vacation?”

He couldn't look at her, not directly. Not even a little. “I didn't see her for more than a few minutes, I don't know Jess. And I took the bus, if you must know. She bought me a round trip ticket. Made sure I got in after she was out of the house and left before she got back. I saw her long enough for her to hand me a lawyer's business card.”

With a mouthful of food, Jessica groaned. “Grace Hotchner, mother of the goddamn year. And then there's Martin, good ol Marty, why he's a regular old Mike Brady.”

The rest of their food arrived without them ever asking for it, and Jessica batted her eyelashes, winked at the waitress and offered a pretty hefty tip at the end if she'd kindly bring them two bloody mary's. If they hadn't been the only people in the dining room, maybe she would have turned them down, but those drinks with their sticks of half-limp and frosted chunks of celery teetering over the top and the mushy sour onion and olive sticks floating inside arrived at the table without any hassle over identification and birth dates. Aaron hated them...he wasn't even sure Jess liked them...but it was what they did. Jess threw a dash of soy sauce in hers and gulped it down like it was a shot, pushing the celery away from her face to open wide. She nibbled on the vegetables happily, sliding the olive and onion artfully off of the little plastic sword with her teeth. Aaron would nurse his until the ice melted and made the overly peppered concoction taste somewhat palatable. He didn't see how adding something other than water would help in the least. He wanted less flavor, not more.

“Jess,” he said, leaning back in his seat, head resting weary and heavy against the vinyl. The vodka was kicking in, quieting his demons a little, relaxing his coiled muscles. “He's going to die.”

“We all die.”

“Don't be a jerk,” was his retort, but he'd already seen it coming. “I mean soon. Maybe this month.”

“Yeah, and maybe he'll live five more years...maybe he'll die before I finish this sentence...I don't really care what happens to him. But I do care about you...”

He didn't open his eyes because then she would have seen the tears there, and he couldn't explain them. He had no idea what they were for. “I know.”

It wasn't just that he was dying, though, and if he dug a little deeper or opened up she would know too. That was too much, too fast. Meeting with the lawyer handling his father's estate had been his one task that had nothing to do with Sean, and it had left him feeling hollowed out. Sitting down in a little diner across from this man who looked like he'd been pulled right out of some mob movie with his burnt orange suit and his shellacked hair, Aaron didn't know what to do with himself. Was this his future in law? Cheesy suits and cheesier hair? The man drove a Mercedes, parked it right in front of the window so he (and everyone else) could stare in awe. The content of their conversation had been distressing in ways he hadn't anticipated, and he couldn't articulate that yet.

“The world isn't going to be any worse off without a man who turns his kid into a punching bag because he can't handle the stress of his life.” Good riddance, she'd essentially said. And when he did die, Aaron knew damn well she'd say those words aloud. She was tiptoeing around them now, but not delicately. He didn't mind it. “That last pile of celery chow-mein is yours. Eat it.”

“Celery chow-mein, celery in the rice, celery in the drink...” he was muttering, a distraction from the wet sound of his voice and the wet feel of his eyes. He liked celery, it was among his favorite foods, he was just...well he was acting this way to avoid crying. “You're trying to give me celery poisoning.”

“That's not a thing. Eat it now so we can go home. You need a nap, and Dale needs his ass kicked out of South America.”

“Yeah, about that...I might have changed my mind about you taking my bed. And my apartment.”

“Nope. No way. No take-backs, buddy.”

They walked back, trotted back, ambled back. Varied speeds for different areas. They always hustled fast past the alleys and across the busy intersections, but when they reached the path through a little park they slowed nearly to a crawl and listened to the trail their feet padded, the crunch of leaves beneath shoes, watched their breath puff white vapor in front of their eyes. She looped her arm in his first, then twisted their fingers and pulled him close. She sort of hated the way he'd weaseled his way into becoming her best friend, in spite of all their arguments. Delicious arguments. But this time she knew she'd crossed a line, and while he'd never tell her, she did feel a little guilty. For better or worse, he was losing his father. She needed to remember that.

“I guess I am a little sorry about your dad...” she admitted into the silent afternoon. He nodded. He hated this more than he hated how blunt and mean she'd been at the restaurant and the tears beat at his eyes again only this time they were icy and hurt. Burned in the wind.

“Don't be. You were right.” He paused, let the sound of footsteps spur on the rest of his voice. “I'm not.” He was lying, perhaps, but it felt like the right thing to say. It felt honest, the rawness of it anyway. Even if the words were a lie, the pure pain in his voice was as honest as it could be.

His father didn't last a week. It wasn't a surprise to anyone, not really. Hospice barely intervened, and his mother was begging and pleading for him to make the trip down. “Take some time off, help me,” she pleaded and it was the last thing he wanted to do. “You simply must make it a priority to say goodbye, Aaron. He's your father.”

But what choice did he have? “I have my Thanksgiving break in a couple of weeks,” he offered, a sort of peaceful middle ground. “I'm not dropping out of my classes to come say goodbye, he doesn't want to see me in his final moments. You and I both know that. But you can make me a list of things to get done while I'm home for break.” She hated it, left him antagonizing messages on his answering machine that Jessica decided were better off deleted before he heard them. She was there an extra two weeks, her building needed more work than originally thought. Dale didn't mind, he loved having someone to play Risk and Dungeons and Dragons and other horrifically nerdy games with, games that Aaron loved to moan about...though his complaint was usually only about the fact that their dining table had been taken over by these games and why did he (who paid a full 50% of the rent) have to eat sitting on the counter or on the floor when he'd bought that table specifically for food?

The night he found out his father had died, he was eating a pile of spaghetti with red sauce from a jar (Jessica's Wednesday night tradition, she may not have been paying any rent but she was cooking for them often and washing their laundry as a thank you) on a paper plate that was getting wet and soggy on the bottom. He watched them go back and forth for territory, calling one another cowards, and ruminated on the news his mother had shared with him. He hadn't said a word aloud, but Jessica seemed to know. The way she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, the way she followed him room to room. Making excuses to watch him, like he might do something. Maybe her worry was well-founded, after the things he'd put her through in the past, but he wasn't sure it was warranted now.

“I hate to be a buzzkill, but I'd like to go to bed,” he announced after hours of them playing. It was well into the night and he had an 8am lecture...he didn't care too much about sleep but he wanted to simply be alone with his thoughts. Jessica looked at him with that strangeness, caution tape invisibly covering her mouth. Dale cleared their game after taking note of where everything should go, a small concession they'd given Aaron when he begged to not have a game covering the table all the time.

“Nite buddy,” he said, and Aaron thought he detected something strange in his voice...like maybe he knew too. They'd figured it out.

Jess sat down on the couch beside him, impeding his ability to pull his blanket up, to lie his body down and stretch out his long long limbs. “Jess,” he whisper-groaned and she shook her head.

“Out with it, Hotchner. What's eating you tonight? You've been quieter than usual. Don't make me guess.”

“He died,” he offered without further prompting. He was too exhausted to play their games. And just like that, like flipping a light switch, the tears fell. A sob caught in his chest, and words failed him entirely but she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close to her whispering something over and over in barely words. Ghostly wordlike apparitions, directly to his soul, skipping all other recognition. He knew what she meant without really hearing any of it. “I'd like to be alone.”

“Yeah, yeah...sure...” she said, kissing him on top of the head. Like a mother. Something he hadn't known in far too long. “I um...you know where I am if you need to talk...”

“I'm going to sleep. Thank you though.”

She wandered off slowly, cautiously, affording him one last look before she closed her bedroom door. His bedroom door. Sleeping in the living room came with certain drawbacks, like a lack of privacy, and she'd offered to give him back his bed numerous times over the weeks but he staunchly refused even though the couch was hurting his back and making him walk like an elderly man in the morning. Hunched over, but assuring her he was fine. And he was, mostly. Just the ghost of past injuries that made some things a little more challenging but a nice hot shower or his flannel Snoopy heating pad full of smelly dried corn always set him right.

A hot shower wouldn't fix the pain he was in now. Snoopy couldn't mend it. Physical pain was easier for him to handle, he could fix it or ignore it, but this was a fire burning through him and there was no way to extinguish it. If he thought for a moment about good times with his father...few but they were there...he wept into his pillow until it was soaked and then flipped the side. Then he'd think about all the ways his father dragged him through the pits of hell and he'd cry even harder. Eventually his pillow was a sopping mess and he had no way to sleep on it.

That was when he got up, without even thinking about it, and walked to the bedroom. Walked right to the bed, and even knowing Jess was sleeping, he fell heavy into it and curled around himself. The pillow was dry and that was his only thought until he felt her hand on his back. Silent, sure, she never asked him a single question, just put her hand between his shoulders and ran it up and down the ridges of his spine until his breathing, too rapid, slowed and the choking sounds gave way to deep, solid breaths. Maybe he was asleep, maybe he'd just calmed, she didn't know and she wasn't going to ask. She fell asleep with her hand warm and soft on his neck.

#aaron hotchner #jessica brooks #aaron hotchner's mother #aaron hotchner's father #sean hotchner #criminal minds #fanfiction #the only ship here is the friend kind

[blithesometrait]

15 OC Questions!

I was tagged by @stargazer-sims !

I was so excited to be tagged in one of these! To prepare for my legacy, and the fact that I’ve been putting in more work and thought into it and my characters, I’ll let Olek take it away from here.

Oleksander Jacobs

Are you named after anyone?

Yeah, I was named after my grandfather, Oleksandr. Mama added the ‘e’ so we would still have some difference. My middle name, Lawrence, is after my dad.

When was the last time you cried?

Did Kat ghostwrite this? Last night. I finished Under the Whispering Door and promptly sobbed. She smirked at me from across the table the next morning. She knows everything.

Do you have kids?

Err, no. Maybe one day though! I do love to care for all things, whether it's humans, pets, plants, even objects honestly. For now, I’m just a plant and pet dad. 

Do you use sarcasm?

Never, in a million years! Who do you think I am?? (Does that answer the question?)

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

If they have little strands of hair that stick out. I don’t mean that in a critical way though, I just think it’s a cute little thing and it varies from person to person. Some have the classic Alfalfa style cowlick and others it’s just a little piece falling from their ponytail. It’s cute, and it kinda reflects the personality of the person, if that makes sense?

What’s your eye colour?

Brown. It was really dark when I was younger, but nowadays it reminds me of the water at the lake, where the mud gets all kicked up. Not the most elegant thing, but that comparison is what got me to start liking my eye colour. 

Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings. Not to say I’m one to shy away from scary movies (psychological horror is my favourite), but I will watch literally anything with a happy ending. Except Hallmark movies. I have some taste. 

Any special talents?

I’m really good at hula hooping. I had a lonely childhood, kay?

Where were you born?

Brindleton Bay Caring Hearts Hospital

What are your hobbies?

Ooh mostly gardening! When I was younger, I loved helping dad out in the garden out back, and once I was older and he got promoted, he transferred the ‘ownership’ of the garden to me. So now I’m the main caretaker of all our plants. I also like to read, and I’ve been trying to get into knitting. 

Have you any pets?

When I was a kid, we had a street cat named Patches. Not named for his fur pattern but instead named for the fact that he was covered in little scars that wouldn’t let the fur grow. Mom noticed him wandering the streets but at the time they couldn’t afford a cat since Kat was coming along. After Mykhail was born and we were more secure financially, she finally grabbed him up from the streets, where he unfortunately was still roaming, and we took him in. When he grew to be an elder, we got him a companion who was also a street cat named Sammy. They passed away a few years ago, just one day apart from each other. Now we have another street cat named Cici, who I found wandering around, and we adopted a dog named Pompidou. 

What sports do you play/have played?

Cheerleading. The whole story behind it is that mama signed Kat up for it as a surprise, and when she learned about it, Kat refused to go. I, not wanting the money to go to waste, offered to go instead. So yeah, I did two seasons of cheer when I was fourteen.

How tall are you?

Five foot four inches (162.56 CM)

Favourite subject in school?

Biology. I think it’s fascinating to see where we came from, and in turn what makes up the world around us. 

Dream job?

Well…Don’t tell my dad, okay? But all my life I thought gardening was going to be my big thing and don’t get me wrong, I love gardening but I don’t think I want to be a gardener anymore. Like, lately I’ve been reading up a lot about mortuary sciences, and it feels like it would be a career I would enjoy. Death used to scare me, but now I’m learning more about it and it doesn’t really scare me anymore. I guess I’ll have to decide soon though…

Um, anyway! Thanks for listening to me :)

-Olek Jacobs

______

I'm tagging @buttertrait , @angelgnomesimblr , @birdietrait , @simsonnet and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it!

Feel free to ignore this if you've already done it or don't want to!

#ask game #tag game #Oleksander Jacobs #my sims #my ocs #Jacobs Legacy Extras #ts4 #ts4 mm simblr #ts4 maxis match #simblr

[reneesbooks]

15 Question Character Interview

thank you to @winterandwords for putting this tag game on my radar :)

The following is a transcript of an interview conducted with Will Moore and Kat Barrick from the Shattered Star trilogy. This interview was conducted in an undisclosed location due to the interviewees' status as wanted fugitives.

Interviewer: Could you state your full names, for the record? Will: William Edward Moore. Kat: No. [Will nudges her] Fine. Katherine Jasmine Barrick. I: Are you named after anyone? Will: I'm named after my great-grandfather, I think. Maybe great-great-grandfather. My Hebrew name, Tzemach, means "shoot" or "sapling," which I think is why I'm a florist. [Kat snorts] And my dad had to stick his name in there somewhere, so it's my middle name. Kat: I'm named after Saint Catherine and my middle name is the national flower of the Philippines. I: When was the last time you cried? Kat: none of your fucking business. Will: [meditatively] I think last time Kat kicked me awake in the middle of the night for snoring. She got me right in the kidney. I: Do you have any kids? Will: we have six kids, actually--[Kat kicks him in the shin] We don't have human children. We have kittens. Kat: they're not our kids. stop implicating me in this. I: Do you use sarcasm? Will: only in service of a pun. Otherwise customers might think you're making fun of them. Kat: only when Will is speaking.

I: What's the first thing you notice about people? Will: uh...their face, I guess? Kat: whether or not they're armed. I: What's your eye color? Kat: do your eyes work. [I: no, like how would you describe your eye color] say it like that next time. brown. Will: grey. apparently sometimes they look like the moon--[Kat kicks him in the shin again] nobody has ever compared them to that. I: Scary movies or happy endings? Will: Happy endings, obviously! Kat: no comment. I: Any special talents? Will: Well I'm a florist--[Kat groans]--so I like to think I have an eye for color. [I: uh...what about the bow and arrows?] that's more like a hobby. Kat: I paint and I throw knives. I: Where were you born? Will: Trenton, New Jersey. Kat: why do you care? [Will nudges her] DC. I: What are your hobbies? Will: I've been doing archery since I was a kid, so there's that...other than that...botany, I guess? Kat: I paint. [I: ...the knives?] that's not a hobby. I: Any pets? Will: We have six cats: Maggie, Arachne, Harpo, Sleepy, Flop, and Runt. Kat: Sarah. Will: yeah, but she is the runt. Maggie's blind and likes to ride around on my shoulder or in my pocket. she tends to use her teeth to express her opinion. Kat: Arachne's my favorite. [Will gasps] she eats spiders. I: What sports do you play or have you played? Will: Archery. I've won a bunch of competitions at the local and state level, and last summer I went to nationals. I was going to try out for the Olympics but I missed the tryouts. [I: Why?] I was in prison. Kat: I was on the swim team in high school. I: How tall are you? Kat: WHY do you care? Will: 6 foot 1. I: Favorite subject in school? Will: P.E. Kat: art and social studies. I: dream job? Will: ex-Olympic archer-turned-florist. beyond that, I think I'd be happy as a park ranger. Kat: anything but politics.

let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist for this wip <3

I'll tag @writinglyra, @akindofmagictoo, and @sleepyowlwrites if you all want to participate!

#i love my stupid children #token florist #angry knife child #ss trilogy #original character #original fiction #writeblr community #writers on tumblr #writeblr #rb original

[snarky-badger]

It All Started With A Barfight Blitz - Chapter 5

Nihlus Kryik x Female OC | Pre ME 1 | Mature

“Lena is not what you would call 'boring'. Raised by an Alliance Veteran and a particularly ornery Krogan after her father left, she was raised to accept everyone, alien or human. After her Grandfather died, she found herself the owner of his bar in the Citadel's Wards.

Things have been... difficult. She's trying to move through her grief, while working hard to ensure that her grandfather didn't make a mistake by leaving her his beloved bar. The last thing she expected was to have a Spectre walk into the establishment, and into her life. Nihlus Kryik is suave, smooth-talking, and flirtatious, and she can't help but be drawn into him. But things take a turn when his job as a Spectre overlaps with her own - Cerberus is on the Citadel, and their plans might end up getting her and a lot of other people killed.”

Chapter 5

.

.

.

"So let me get this straight," Nihlus drawled as he and Lena walked along a path in one of the Presidium's many gardens, bellies full from lunch. "You strap a 'parachute' to your back, and then jump out of a perfectly good shuttle at around fourteen-thousand feet, and just... plummet towards the planet's surface?"

"It's as close to flying as someone can get without actual wings," Lena grinned. "You only get about a minute of free fall before you have to open your chute, though."

"And people pay to do this?"

"Oh, as if it's any different than the Armax Arsenal where you pay to be shot at."

"There are safety parameters there, and a medic for any emergencies. If something goes wrong no one is at risk of embedding themselves into the countryside."

"What? Turians don't have extreme sports?"

"Sports, yes. Extreme, no. Though, I suppose that the lure of some of what you told me about will interest some of the more... extreme personalities."

"Facing death gives you a better appreciation for life," Lena explained with shrug, drawing an agreeing hum from Nihlus. "Some people do extreme stuff because it makes them feel alive. Some do it for the adrenaline rush. Others do it because they want to prove to themselves that they can."

"I suppose that does make sense. Though I have a feeling that the krogan might find human extreme sports more to their liking than my kind."

Lena laughed. "Oh, yeah. I agree with you on that. Rkar told me about some sport called 'kowla'. Apparently you get extra points if you damage an opponent to the point that they can no longer play."

"Did you know that the krogan caused an intergalactic crisis by trying to introduce kowla to the Raloi? Apparently a game devolved into a brawl that left three dead and fourteen injured."

"I've... never heard of the Raloi."

Nihlus huffed. "Three guesses why."

"Uh huh. Okay, so no kowla on the Citadel then." 

"Spirits preserve us if there is," he muttered, flaring his mandibles in a smile when she laughed. A comfortable silence fell over them as they continued to stroll through the gardens, the many flowers and plants from across the galaxy carefully bio-engineered to be without pollens, so as to make them safe for all species to admire. 

More relaxed than he'd felt in a long time, Nihlus gently tugged Lena along with him as he headed for a bench that overlooked the lake, rumbling happily when she took a seat next to him. "So."

Her lips quirked. "So?"

"What would you like to do next? I admit that I'm rather rusty at this dating thing," he admitted with a grin. "I wasn't sure if lunch would go well or end in some weird inter-species calamity."

"You were worried?" Lena huffed a soft laugh and shook her head. "God, Nihlus, I have like, the worst dating history. Granted most of that was My'liya's fault, but still."

He rumbled a laugh and dared to curl his right arm around her shoulders, smiling when she leaned into him, resting her head against his cowl. "Well," he murmured, nuzzling at the top of her head and drinking in her scent, purring happily. "Does that mean I have a shot at another date?"

"Oh, I suppose," she teased, reaching up to twine her fingers around his where he'd curled them around her shoulder, hearing his amused chuckle and feeling it vibrate through him and into her.

"You suppose, hm?" Smiling, Nihlus rest his chin on the top of her head, following her gaze out across the Presidium's lake. "You know, I have some vacation time saved up."

"Do you now?"

"And since you own the bar, I take it you're the one who plans the shift roster?"

"I am."

"Ever been to Eden Prime? I hear it's a great vacation spot. Nice and tropical."

Lena laughed a little. "We've been on one date and you want to take me on  a vacation?"

"Well, it'll take a bit of time for me to put in the requisition, so I'm hoping there will be a few more dates between now and then. Also, I have to wait at least a week, else I'll have two mad asari out for my blood."

"I have never seen Ajana mad and I don't want to," Lena agreed, shivering when he rose his left hand and gently ran his talons through her hair, nuzzling at the crown of her head as he did so. "What are you doing?"

"Ah... I'm... preening you? Sorry. Is that weird? It's a turian sign of affection. Though, ah..."

"Ah?"

"It's a little forward of me."

It was the first time she'd heard nervousness in his voice, and Lena tilted her head up to look at him, seeing his mandibles churn a little with his uncharacteristic anxiety. "Is this some sort of cultural faux-pas?"

He blinked. "That didn't translate."

"Is it, like, bad etiquette, or bad manners?"

"No. Well, a little?" Nihlus reluctantly pulled his hand from her hair, watching as the strands slipped through his fingers. "First off, we're in public. Secondly, well... it's the first date and I kind of skipped to like, official courting?"

She bit back a smile. "So, you're ok with asking me to go on a vacation with you, but not to ask if you can officially 'court' me?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you...? You're teasing me!" His breath left him in a huff as he shook his head, fighting back a smile of his own. " Here I am thinking that I've insulted you and you're teasing me."

"To be fair, it's kinda nice to see that even you get nervous," she admitted, reaching up to brush her thumb against his left mandible, following the path of his markings. "Honestly, Nihlus, I don't know what the future holds. But, I do know that I like you, a lot. And that I'd regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't see where this goes."

A hesitant rumbling purr left him. "I feel the same way," he murmured, leaning his face into her hand. "Spirits, this is mildly insane isn't it?"

"Makes things more interesting," she drawled with a smirk, pulling a low chuckle from him. 

"I mean, things have been a little dull lately," Nihlus told her as he leaned in, mouth plates brushing her lips. "Maybe I could use a bit of insanity."

He was about kiss her when a buzz of disgusted sub-vocals had Nihlus raising his head to glare at another turian with green markings. The Spectre let a vicious growl escape him when the other male made as if to step towards them.

"Problem?" Nihlus asked smoothly, with maybe a bit more show of teeth than was polite, sub harmonics warning the other male off. 

The green marked turian bristled a little, hands curling into fists, his subvocals echoing with disgust and disapproval. Then he paused, meeting Nihlus' sharp glare and flared mandibles before muttering under his breath as he turned to stomp away.

"I didn't hear half of that conversation, did I?" Lena asked as she watched the other turian leave the park.

"Afraid not," Nihlus said, sending a sharp look at their surroundings. There were few people in the park, some other turians, asari and a couple of salarians. It was, now that he was on edge, too busy. Thank the Spirits humans were deaf to subvocals, otherwise he had no doubt Lena would have thrown a punch. "Let's head back."

She frowned up at him as he rose, letting him gently pull her to her feet. "That bad?"

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you really want to know?"

"I mean, it's not fair for you to deal with all the assholes alone. Besides, wouldn't be the first time I've been insulted - not everyone likes humans."

"...doesn't make it right," Nihlus muttered.

"No. It doesn't," Lena sighed, taking his offered arm and leaning into him. "But I appreciate you sticking up for me."

"Anytime."

She looked up at him as they walked back the way they'd come, noting how tense he was, his eyes narrowed as he scanned their surroundings as if he was on the battlefield and expecting enemies at every turn. "Nihlus. Hey. He's not worth it. Don't let some dumbass ruin our day."

"You're right. I know you're right." Huffing, he rolled his shoulders, then cracked his neck a little. "Alright. So, where would you like to go next?"

"There's a place I know of near my bar that serves levo and dextro desserts," she offered, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "My treat?"

The worry in her voice pulled a soft croon from him, trying to reassure her that he was alright. "That sounds wonderful."

In all honesty, it took him a few more minutes to settle himself, though he did his best to hide it from her as they headed for the parked Skycars. He'd known, of course, that openly dating a human would bring about some backlash, he just hadn't expected his own reaction to it. 

But then again, lots of turians had hangups about humans after the First Contact War. Personally, Nihlus just didn't see the point of blaming an entire species for the actions of a few. But hatred, once it had it's talons in someone, was hard to dislodge.

It also surprised him how he'd reacted to the other turian. Sure, he'd heard some slurs sent his way, especially since he'd had some human 'stress relief' partners in the past. But, he'd always brushed it off. Now, the thought of someone disrespecting Lena made his blood boil.

Spirits, he had it bad, didn't he?

Saren was never going to let him hear the end of it.

Shaking his head a little, Nihlus guided Lena up the stairs to the shuttles, making sure that she got settled into the passenger seat before he circled around to claim the pilots position. 

Only after he'd input the co-ordinates to her bar did he turned to look at her, watching her as she watched the gardens of the Presidium zoom past. 

He was about to speak when his omni tool pinged, pulling an exaggerated groan from him. "It's my day off," Nihlus complained in two separate octaves, rolling his eyes at Lena when she snickered. 

Huffing, he activated his omni, emerald eyes glaring at the hardlight screen as he navigated to his messages. "Of course it's the Council," he muttered, echoing Lena when she made a dismayed sound. "There's been a security breech at Kassa Fabrication on Noveria. There's signs that it might have been Cerberus. And, naturally, all the other Spectres are on different assignments. Dammit."

"When do you have to leave?" Lena asked softly.

He deactivated his omni-tool with a savage jab of a talon. "Two hours."

"When will you be back?"

Nihlus paused, then turned and reached over to drag her onto his lap, purring when she laughed and curled her arms about his neck, shifting so she was straddling him. "As soon as possible," he muttered, tilting his head down so his mouth plates brushed over her lips. "I'll be back by the Bonding Ceremony at the latest. Here, let me see your Omni-tool."

Lena shifted a little and offered up her right arm, watching curiously as he activated both of their omni's and transferred something from his to hers. 

"I'm upgrading your security encryption software. This way we can exchange conversations without the worry of anyone intercepting them - we'll be the only ones who have the software needed to decrypt messages."

"Is it even legal for you to share fancy Spectre stuff with me?"

"Honestly, at this point, I don't really give a damn," he smirked as the upload finished, allowing him to wrap his arms around her and tuck her close. Lena rose her hands to trace his markings, and he purred at the touch, closing his eyes as her fingers caressed his face and mandibles. "Mmm. You're distracting me."

"From what?"

"This."

He let out a rumble in her range of hearing and gently tugged her close, raising a hand to cup the back of her head as he moved in, kissing her in the human fashion he'd learned a while ago. Subvocals singing, Nihlus licked at her lips, then dipped his tongue in to taste her, groaning when she made a soft mewling noise of appreciation.

Her fingers glided over his fringe, then under it, and he shuddered when she found the soft patch of hide there. Frustrated that he couldn't feel her, Nihlus rose his right hand and used his teeth to yank off his glove, purring happily as he cupped her face against his palm, talons sinking into her hair. 

Lena sighed as he nuzzled at the side of her neck, shivering when he licked a path up her throat, his bare hand sliding under her jacket to tug at her blouse until he could run his fingers across the skin of her lower back. 

"Spirits, you smell amazing," he mumbled into her neck, sliding his hand up her back to press her closer, careful not to pin her against his keel with too much force.

A soft laugh left her as she trailed kisses along his left mandible, licking at the prongs at the end, and the sound that left him was almost pornographic. She couldn't hear his subvocals, but she could feel them, especially when she kissed his neck, feeling his throat vibrate against her lips. 

"Mmm... as much as I hate to say this - oh Spirits Lena don't do that - we should stop," Nihlus groaned, his left hand lightly tugging at her hair so he could nuzzle his face against her neck, drinking in her scent.

She sighed, but relented, choosing to merely stroke her fingers across his markings again. "Yeah. Wouldn't want to get caught having sex in a shuttle on the first date," she drawled, grinning when he huffed a laugh and leaned in to playfully nip at her chin.

"Menace," he growled, though there was no real anger there. Slowly, reluctantly, he slid his hand out from under her blouse, raising it to her cheek and thrumming when she turned her face to press a kiss to his palm.

"I'm gonna have to invest in an auditory upgrade so I can hear you properly," Lena murmured as she lightly pressed her fingertips to this throat, feeling the vibration there. "I feel like I'm missing a lot of the conversation."

"They're happy noises," he told her with a smile as he lightly brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Very happy noises."

"Good to know," she said, returning the smile for a moment before sobering. "I hate that you're leaving."

Nihlus let out a grumble. "I'm not too pleased about it either, trust me," he muttered, sighing as he leaned in and rubbed his left cheek against her right. "I'll be back before you know it."

"You'd better be," she murmured, meeting his emerald gaze when he sat back to look at her. "I know it's fast, and crazy, and probably insane. I mean we've only known each other for, like, two days, but..."

"But we have a connection."

"Yes."

"Gives me all the more reason to hurry back," he whispered, purring again when she rose her hands to caress his mandibles.

It wasn't until the shuttle chimed to announce that they were almost at the Wards that Nihlus reluctantly pulled away, pausing only to give her a final kiss. "We're almost at your bar."

She sighed, but nodded, sliding off of him and returning to her seat, fiddling with her jacket and her mussed up hair in an attempt to make it look like they hadn't been all over each other. 

"I'll message you tonight," Nihlus told her as the shuttle landed, reaching over to give her left hand a squeeze. Deciding that it wasn't enough, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and leaned as far over as he could, tugging her into another kiss and taking a final taste of her before pulling away. "Try not to miss me too much."

"You're incorrigible," she grinned, blowing a kiss his way before closing the shuttle's door and stepping back as the Skycar rose off the landing pad, Nihlus sending her a wave and a grin before the shuttle shot away.

Rkar was already at the bar when she finished walking the short distance to the building, and he sniffed the air as she walked in. "So," he grinned, giving her a knowing smirk. "Have a nice time?"

"You're horrible," Lena told him, rolling her eyes as she shrugged out of her jacket and headed for her office. "If you must know, yes. But it got cut short when he was called away for his Spectre work."

The krogan grinned as he got off the stool and followed her. "Spiky little bastard left his scent all over you. So it couldn't have been that short."

"We had lunch and walked in the gardens for a bit. It was nice. Really nice." When he chuckled, she huffed a breath and turned to look at him. "What?"

"Haven't seen you all flustered over a guy in a while."

"Probably because I have an overprotective krogan threatening to kill whoever gets close to me?"

"Meh. If they're so weak that they can't grow a quad and stand up to me, then they don't deserve you."

"Aw, you big softy."

"Tell anyone and I'll kick your ass."

.

.

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tbc

#nihlus kryik #mass effect #turian x human #nihlus lives #snarky is writing #i feel like crap and this is my new comfort fic #turian #turians #mass effect fic

[lifegoesonevenifeverybodyisgone]

Sims Mobile Adventures. Part 28: Santo Malo

After the entire fiasco, Bernadette took her uncle’s word to heart and worked hard to develop the land. The land was located near the waters and was more in the tropical sea. Some of the inhabitants have gotten around to naming the land “Santo Malo” or what we call Bad Saint. It was due to the reckless and fun-loving guardian of the land, who was blessed with holy power but did not exactly follow the notion of a stereotypical saint.

Artemis and Vikram had a son together during that time. He was named Aurelio Aurora (Lio for short) after his great-grandfather Aurelio Walker. He was the first great-grandchild of the Monkhbats and Victor Chang. The first of the 4th generation.

And eventually he turned into a toddler.

The boy visited the main family sometimes but he would often play with his mother’s cousins in the beach.

He also had another playmate that appeared to him one day. She was the supernatural guardian of the Santo Malo, she took on the appearance of a human being by the name of Christine delos Santos.

She had a lot of fun with the household so she decided to prank them one day dressed up as a loony patient.

They took her in without hesitation and got her a place to sleep. The guardian of Santo Malo was touched since it’s been ages when a stranger treated her with such hospitality. The guardian decided to stay and help the household out.

It was a fun day for Lio had a fun day with his grandpa and grannie. It was their turn to babysit him for the day.

Dionysus LOVED spending time with his first grandchild even if this means being an eyesore in Vikram’s presence. Vikram didn’t really like him much but they tried to see eye to eye.

Despite it all, Artemis needed the rest so she handed her son over. Lio didn’t mind either since his grandparents’ mansion was bigger than his house and he slept in a nice nursery.

While handing Aurelio back to the Santo Malo household, Dionysus encountered his concerned niece Victoria.

It seems like her mother VI’s spirit is I longer in contact! She asked Dionysus if he had been able to feel her presence since they were good sports buddies. He had contact with her before but it seems that the contact is lost after awhile of not communicating.

I guess it was a sign to keep in touch with her parents from the other side. This made Victoria wonder: “Is it my time to depart too?”. Victoria knew that the Kiramman line was in good hands since she had 4 Kiramman cousins. But what about her own descendants? Will she seek to be a mother or just let the line of Piltover’s Finest die?

I guess it was up to her to think it over. In the meantime, her cousin Dmitri was having a sort of dilemma. Since the birth of his nephew, his family was wondering when he would have his own kids. It was imperative for the heir to have his own children someday. His father, Dionysus was especially concerned because his dating history was EXACTLY like his Uncle Damian.

A fling with an older man and a volatile relationship with Valentina Edgewater.

Dionysus disapproved of that relationship since his date is the LITERAL clone of the woman who cheated on his brother. The SAME woman who hit on him repeatedly. But Dmitri was too allured but the woman to care. They had a passionate affair that would often explode into arguments and miscommunications.

Dionysus was practically losing hope so he thought of other things: What if he tried to find Dmitri a suitable wife? But then what would his son think of him!? He was too busy lusting over Ms. Edgewater to think of anyone else. But his father didn’t give up hope and waited for the perfect opportunity.

In the meantime, he took a family portrait with all of his children. It was to commemorate their family before Artemis comes to live with her husband. They all got dressed up and had a family photo shoot.

#sims mobile

[chanelfunnell]

Mail, qquite normal, drama elsewher

A) anon, I'd say steroids. He is still slim, bulkies so swollen bloated face.. Or kidney but Tazer does not look OK. His new gf is pretty.

B) anon, she's nasty. Not just long term unhealthy obsession with Crosby, plus Tazer now and before and again Czech born commentator or wag or a fictional chata tee but also calling Kathy Leutner (plus a comment on my blog) as Crosby's escot and so Czech NHL ex Pens wag. She's deranged and horrible.. I'm surprises that no one sues he fir defamation, harassment.. Yes Crosby (Toews Kane) Interesting is Ashley running Tazer's fan Insta. Crazy fan woman. Women's hater.

C) anon, I guess Matthew is better a his team. Is better. They have a star team but playing badly and no play offs chances over the years lol.

D) anon, not ice hockey topic but UK king can hardly do something with Sandringham and topiary and Balmoral as it is a personal inheritance e of nhl commentator, IT tech biz girl Marketa from her grandfather. Its personal estate and it goes down to any offspring out or in the wedlock. I mean Marketa comes from married parents, it her father but they are holders of nominee trust. Charles is nasty deluded fart up yo bribes such as his sleazy deluded brother Andy and Aa son Harry. So stupid out of touch and reality men I did not see in the boxing with an empty skulls. No way hey run a ware tap without a butler and anything like army or so... Not good in the sport as achievers, no reflection of their own look, forget a Puck or ball and a game IQ lol. Back to tabs, they ae PR useless lol. A farmer like Reese from the Blackhawks lol.

E) anon, I read both Blackhawks beat reporters. My extra fav one from past is Mark Laxarus but he's not in Sun Chicago Times. It's hard job to be a beat reporter. Othing fir joke home sitting bloggers lol

8thF) anon, the same, off topic but yes, Greta Is a bad actress and made up personality by he manager to be famous and money making with stitched up bogus and answers. She faked and staged with German police like on German train where. Swat reservation is required with any ticket purchase. Just stopping by on the way to Davis. How do we dare? Yes I do. Waste of space who copies things by others but no own research, contribution or talent. No way she has what Dustin Hoffman played so well with Tom Cruise.. Slowly built not immediately How do you dare. Oil stop etc are Russian backed anarchists criminals disrupting infrastructure and democracy. Check the woman Margaret and her, charity, in California. Losers without any talent and no fair play.

#jonathan toews #Megan butler #Puckbunnies #Crazy fan girls #ice hockey #Chicago blackhawks #Crosby interesting #nhl #sidney crosby #auston matthews #greta thurnberg

[thegoddesswater]

15 Questions, 15 Mutuals

Tagged by @tc-doherty

Are you named after anyone? No. Though my mother was extremely tempted to give me her little brother’s name as a second middle name. Sometimes I wish she had for the sheer quirkiness of having a definitely masculine name thrown in with my quite feminine ones. Though I probably would have gotten tired of explaining it whenever it came up....

When was the last time you cried? January. Woke up New Years Day absolutely inconsolable after dreaming about my years-gone grandfather.

Do you have kids? Absolutely not. I’m a pretty fun aunt and reasonably good with kids, but I definitely like being able to hand the small humans back to their parents when I’m tired of them.

Do you use sarcasm? Not as much as I used to.

What's the first thing you notice about people? I feel like there is no one thing that I notice right away about people... Just general vibes? Though thinking more about this, I’d guess that what I first notice is whether someone is behaving “’normal’ for a situation” or if they’re doing something that sticks out as “not as expected” - which I mean as neutrally as I can. For example: I first encountered one of my (now) friends at a comic convention panel, and I noticed him more than the other panelists because while they were introducing themselves (aka “situation normal”), he was frantically scribbling all over his name card (aka ”not expected”).

What's your eye colour? I will forever use my friend’s ninth-grade, art-class description as the answer to this question: Rancid Mustard Normal people would use the word hazel

Scary movies or happy endings? Out of those two options? Happy endings, I guess. I’m generally skittish and don’t care much for scares. Better earn that happy ending though - make the characters work for it.

Any special talents? Special talents like what? I feel like this question is asking for quirky things that I am good at, and I don’t feel like I have much ‘special’ to answer it with. I’m pretty good at getting inside characters’ heads when writing or playing tabletop games? Does that count? That really seems more like something I’ve learned to do over the years than a “special talent”

Where were you born? Canada

What are your hobbies? Fibre art (knitting/crochet/weaving etc), writing, drawing (after many years of not doing that) baking, and very recently I’ve picked up guitar again. I am certain that I am missing about a dozen other things that I do, but I can’t think of them all at the moment. I have too many hobbies.

Have you any pets? Nah, not anymore.Used to have fish. Not sure if I’ll get more or not.

What sports do you play/have played? When I was little I played soccer and basketball for a season or two, used to swim. Now I do medieval sword and shield combat, and archery.

How tall are you? 5'1″

Favourite subject in school? English, for the most part - disliked it quite a bit in Grade 12, but I hated most things back then, so that doesn’t count. Loved taking German in uni until I had the prof in third year who sucked all the joy out of it.

Dream job? Alpaca farmer - I mean probably not really, because that would be So Much Work. But my idealized vision of what it would be like to be an Alpaca Farmer? Sure.

I’m not sure I even have 15 active mutuals, tbh. If anyone’s so inspired to do this, by all means!

#I am shy at tagging

[zuzanwrites]

Optimus Found Out That it has Been a Decade Since Their Best Friend’s Grandparent Passing

(Disclaimers: Sadness, Slight Depression, Grieving Process)

Characters Mentioned: Miko and (TFP) Optimus

Miko looked at Optimus and said, “Hey, uh, have you seen Y/N at all today?” Optimus looked, confused.

“No, why?” Miko thought for a second, thinking if she really wanted to tell him but decided it was a good idea. “I think you should check up on her, it’s been almost ten years since their grandparent has passed.”

Optimus nodded in understanding. “I’ll check up on them.” Optimus transformed and started to call her on the way to her house. She picked up. “Hey… Do you need anything Optimus?” They sounded sad and just not like herself.

“Miko told me what happened, I was just wondering if you needed anything?” Optimus said, concerned. Y/N laughed alittle. “I’m alright I just need space from everyone for at least today. If you’re free, we could relax with each other at a park or something later. But I have to get flowers soon and pay my respects.” Y/N sounded sorrowful.

“I’ll go with you.” Optimus said calmly. “Are you sure, you really don’t have to?” Y/N said, smiling alittle. “I want to.” They smiled, “I guess you’re outside already?” Y/N looked out the window. Optimus chuckled alittle, “Yup.” They smiled but still grievingly went to Optimus. “You really don’t, have to, I could’ve walked. I kinda need the fresh air anyway.”

Optimus’s holoform looked over, “Yeah, but you seem like you could use the company.”

They shook their head, “Well you’ve got me there.” They both got to the florist, they both got out. They noticed that Optimus was coming and tried not to laugh. “Who the hell do you need to get flowers for?” They asked curiously. “Fowler.” Optimus tried to lie. They were laughing, "Okay, I have to see that.”

They were looking at the flowers and practically got all of the red, white, and blue ones and started saying, “My grandfather supposedly helped America in a war with a important job that didn’t require fighting and he loved everything that was American made, he didn’t have anything really made from other countries until a couple of years before he died.” They started looking at the flowers and their prices before sighing and practically grabbing all of them and speed walking to the cash register.

As they were about to take out their cash and card to pay, Optimus stopped them, "Don't, it's on me." And paid without giving it a second thought.

After they got back in Optimus's truck cabin, they started saying "You really didn't have to, I could have paid for it." I said, smiling alittle.

"You could have, but you really shouldn't have to." Optimus started driving to Y/N's grandparent's grave. When they both got to Y/N's grandparent's grave, Y/N took a deep breath before saying,

"Hey grand(p/m)a. I know it's been a while but I miss you everyday and-" Y/N started to get emotional. Optimus noticed this and wrapped his arm gently around Y/N's side, slightly above the hip, "I just wish that you could see the person I've become. I wish you could just be here telling me how proud you are of how you're grandchild has changed... That would just mean alot to me."

Y/n took a deep breath before starting to compose themselves feeling Optimus's hand on their back. "The doctors found out I have a immune disease that no-one's really heard about. Myasthenia Gravis. I'm getting better at coping with it and not getting as emotional but it still hurts like hell everytime I can't open something as simple as a soup or pasta can, even if it has a tab to pull on it. I don't really like that I have to be on steroids to treat it because I would love to have just the option to play in any sports for fun and I just wish my body could treat it on its own."

They started to smile, "But on a happier note, I do kind of have strong crushes on two people but I know they honestly need to focus on much more important things and they're definitely "out of my league" without a doubt so. But if the rumour's true, and you are really watching over me, then I think you know who they are." They gave a gentle glance at Optimus before looking back at the grave.

"Hope my childhood pets aren't giving you too much trouble. Tell them all that I said hi. I love you all." They placed two fingers to their lips and placed them on the grave stone for a moment before stepping back alittle and giving silent prayers.

After they gave silent prayers they did the holy cross gesture on themselves and walked back to Optimus's truck cabin with Optimus following closely behind.

They visited a park where their name was inscribed on a stone to remember their service during the war. And then they had a picnic with food and stuffs from the human's bag before chilling at base for a while and calling it a day.

#optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus x reader #transformers prime #transformers #they could be friends i guess #Susan Writes

[reallyhardy]

went through the goes-wrong-verse playbills/programmes - that is, ‘the play that goes wrong’ and ‘peter pan goes wrong’ (thank you @cornleypolytechnicgoeswrong​ !) trying to piece together each society member’s career within the society PLUS if possible whatever it was they were doing at the polytechnic (university) course-wise, along with whatever other character snippets they give. this is mostly to inform me when writing but i thought it’d be useful for other mischief/goes wrong fans!

chris bean:

as of TPTGW is the ‘newly elected’ head of the drama society, and is known at the university for his charitable & philanhropic work. he has six acting credits within the polytechnic to his name.

i was going to presume his choice of course at the uni was acting or directing, but his PPGW bio states that his ‘dacting’ (directing and acting) is all self-taught, so who knows. maybe he’s just in the society because of his aforementioned charitable work.

robert grove:

has starred in 40 productions with the society since 2002 (when he began work at cornley polytechnic as a caretaker - i’m taking this to mean he was never actually a student there.) anyway wow explains why they call him a “veteran actor” lol.

he offers acting lessons (reacting, gesturing, emotioning and acting) and can be contacted via twitter @robertgoodactor. i’ve looked this twitter account up and it does exist it’s just not been used since 2017 - that said there are some in-character photos of henry lewis as robert and nancy zamit as annie on there and plenty of tweets.

he runs an extremely dubiously safe cornley youth theatre program and can be contacted at his email [email protected] (membership fees are non-refundable.)

trevor watson:

in TPTGW is arbitrarily from ‘the north east’ (rob falconer’s portrayal, whereas chris leask’s portrayal is firmly and specifically scouse.)

he has a twitter account (rob falconer’s portrayal) @trevtechie, with i think probably the most tweets of the cornley twitters. stopped being updated in 2017.

his participation in haversham was to complete an electronics module - as the light and sound technician i’d assume his course was in this kinda field.

he states that after haversham he wants to never work with the cornley drama society again, but as of PPGW he’s “following in his parents footsteps” and has pivoted to possibly actually studying stage management. (his PPGW bio states that he’s in his final year at the uni for the 3rd time running. so it could mean his staying on with cornley is like partially due to failing his course?)

dennis tyde:

in his TPTGW bio it states that he joined the drama society after failing to get in to any other societies.

he didn’t live on university campus and commuted in from his parents’ house. he mostly just wanted to make friends - he’s interested in snooker and wants to meet like-minded people.

in his PPGW bio he still wants to make friends and says you can reach him via twitter @dennistyde. i checked this account too and again it does exist but hasn’t been used since 2013, and there are only 3 tweets so its much more bare-bones than the others. i like his one tweet about drinking a mug of bovril to calm his nerves before a show.

as of 2021 in promotional vids we learn that dennis and robert now live together.

max bennett:

in TPTGW bio it says he was a first year studying human geography and crime which i was surprised about but sure okay. it also says here that he happily donated “a large portion of his recent inheritance” to the society to help fund it.

at the bottom of TPTGW’s cast page it states that the west end performance of the play is “made possible by a generous legacy from claude bennett” who’s presumably max’s grandfather? or just father? idk

his TPTGW bio also says his favourite movie is the legend of bagger vance which i’ve never seen but is apparently a will smith golf movie.

his hobbies as listed in his PPGW bio are chess, cooking & hanging out with friends and fam. he also dedicates his performance in PPGW to his grandma claire, which is sweet.

annie twilloil:

as of TPTGW she’s designed, built, painted, costumed & stage managed every cornley show for the past 3 years. in the PPGW bio, it states she’s studying cognitive behavioural therapy and pottery, and has taken up life drawing at the student’s union (as the model.)

after haversham, she apparently had an internship lined up at the bolton octagon.

she has WILD backstory in her PPGW bio that says she dedicated her performance to her estranged husband julian who she hoped was in the audiance and two children frangipani and ylang-ylang. not sure if the kids are with her or with the husband but either way, wild. nuts. pretty funny but also pretty tragic.

she’s also got an ad out looking for a new bloke (i suppose if her husband isn’t in the audience) apparently she’s been left by boyfriends previously for an air hostess, a stripper, and a coal miner.

she also enjoys knitting and playing the banjolin (an instrument she made herself.) her email address is [email protected].

she has a twitter account that again hasnt been used since 2017 (@annietwiloil). a couple tweets chronicle dave hearn’s shoulder dislocation but as max so i guess its canon that max also dislocated his shoulder, but he did it while trying to open a twix? lmao

sandra wilkinson:

in her TPTGW bio it states that haversham manor is her 11th production with the company. idk how frequently they put on shows.

she won some kind of local kids beauty pageant in 1998 and did some modelling for a local restaurant (the sunam balti house, which apparently the cornley crew frequent? or have at least been to - seems they struggled with spicyness levels there, especially dennis.)

nothing on her course at the university, i might just take a stab and assume she was actually doing acting, since her bio is mostly about her being a performer.

she’s a big fan of jeremy irvine, they mention him in both of her bios.

jonathan harris:

is a total health & fitness guy. his course at the uni is in physical education and he’s also a model, though who’s to say what for. in PPGW this is expanded and he’s moved on to being a combo model/actor/photographer/lifecoach.

he loves his outdoor sports: mountain biking & kayaking are noted.

he had a bath salts advert out and he hoped it was gonna go national.

lucy grove:

her surname IS grove! i wasn’t sure, but that’s confirmed. not really much about her in there, because the bio is written by robert and he just used it to gas himelf up.

can’t tell if she’s a student at the university or just in the society through robert. genuinely there’s just not a lot to go on when it comes to lucy.

another note is that the murder at haversham manor and the version of peter pan that the cornley crew perform are both written by ‘susie h. k. brideswell’ who i guess either chris knows or chris is a big fan of?

other notes... they try so hard to make out like the characters aren't all the same age like implying that robert is genuinely older than most of them etc etc but ofc the cast featured in the TV broadcasts are all visibly the same age... ofc all this is just comedy innit so you can take it or leave it

also i realised that the american version of TPTGW calls it “the cornley university drama society” since i guess you guys dont have polytechnics over there. a polytechnic is like... a university that offers the arts (among the classics you know science law what have you) basically. by 2021 in promotional videos etc. shields in character as chris has dropped “polytechnic” altogether from the group’s name (but varies between calling it ‘the cornley drama society’ and ‘the cornley amateur dramatics society’) i assume to reflect how much time has passed since the group put on their first production under chris’ leadership - and that now they’re simply operating unattached to the university because they’ve become a real family. love love love, sillyness and love.

#mischief theatre #the play that goes wrong #peter pan goes wrong

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Samuel ‘Rocky’ Douglas

(My gif/there’s like no decent footage of ‘kick back’ online)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Rocky meet when you’re young. You’d lived next door to the Douglas family your entire life so it was pretty much inevitable that you’d end up becoming friends with at least one of the boys growing up. 

- Funnily enough, it wasn’t Samuel that you’d befriended, it was Jeffrey. 

- You’d tried to weasel your way into all the boys lives; and succeeded in becoming a surrogate older sister to Tum Tum over the years, but it seemed as though Sam just …didn’t like you very much. 

- Any time you were around him, he’d seemingly try to get away from you as quickly as possible, or distract himself with something so that he could barely acknowledge your presence. He’d always cut your conversations short or give you two word answers and any time you felt as though you were having a break through, he’d seem to realize that he was being friendly and close himself off yet again. 

- But Jeffrey, or Colt, would usually pull you away from his older brother anyways, distracting you with some game or activity that he wanted to play/do before you could dwell on his brothers borderline rudeness. 

- Colt had never understood why his brothers …approval; for lack of a better word, mattered so much to you and for a while, neither did you. But the older you got, the more you realized that you’d always had a bit of a crush on the boy whether you knew it or not. 

- But you couldn’t tell Colt that. Instead, you had to tell him that you just didn’t want things to always be awkward when you joined him and his brothers on their little adventures; secretly sighing in relief as he accepted the answer. 

- Unbeknownst to you, there was a reason for Rocky’s closed off attitude: he’d had a crush on you since elementary school and he’d, admittedly, never been very good with girls. 

- So, while you were wondering why your best friends brother hated you, he was internally scolding himself for not being able to say more than two words to you before his knees felt like buckling beneath him. 

- Considering how shy he was with you, things could have easily continued on like that for, well, forever. But then something changed. 

- One morning, you arrived at the Douglas house and found yourself walking into a very tense atmosphere. You could tell that Colt was upset about something and given how quiet the rest of the table was, you assumed it had something to do with one of his siblings; assumedly Rocky from the way he was avoiding the boys occasional pointed looks. 

- The minute Colt noticed you, he shot up out of his seat and pulled you out of the house with him, leaving you little time to meet the gaze of Rocky whose eyes immediately shot up to look at you. 

- As you walked, you tried to pry some information out of the boy but it was pointless, he refused to answer any of your questions, opting to stay nearly silent or telling you that it “was nothing”; even though you knew better. 

- It’s a whole week before things start to go back to normal but there’s still some tension between Rocky and Colt. Your dear pal Jeffrey, who once loved having his brothers tag along, now seems hesitant to allow his older brother to accompany you guys. …And here you thought things were awkward before. 

- Another week goes by before you learn exactly what happened. You’re sitting at home when your mother calls you, telling you that you have a guest as you head to the front door. Standing in your foyer is Rocky, a sight you never thought you’d see, and the sheer surprise you feel upon seeing him makes you stop in your tracks. 

- His eyes meet your frozen figure and he licks his lips, opening his mouth to say something before he shuts it again. A second passes before he manages to get out a “hi”, watching as you finally begin to walk towards him again. 

- You give a quiet hello in response and a beat of silence passes between you before he asks if you can talk, letting you lead him outside after you nod. 

- The two of you are quiet for a while before he turns and asks how you’ve been just as you’re about to say something to break the silence. You answer that you’re fine with a little laugh and you ask how he’s been before you ask the question that's really been on your mind. 

“Seems like you and Colt have been fighting.”

“A little I guess.”

“Why’s that?”

“...Well uh …he found out something he isn’t too happy about.” You quirked an eyebrow up at his words and asked what it was. 

“...That I …like...you.” He says slowly, as though he’s forcing himself to finally say the words. 

- The phrase could mean a few things but you immediately know exactly what he’s confessing when he says them and a small smile finds it’s way onto your face. 

“Yeah, you should never bring that sort of thing up to Colt.” You say, feeling an overwhelming urge to tease the boy just a little. 

“Yeah I guess I found that out,” He laughs a little and you can hear the nervousness in it. “So, uh...” You hum questioningly and he continues. “What do you think?”

“Think about what?”

“About …about me liking you....”

“I think I like it,” You give him a smile. “I like you too Rocky.”

- The two of you have your first date at the beach. Colt and Tum Tum probably found out you were planning on going and just immediately went with you, forcing you to come up with ways to sneakily bond with each other during your borderline disastrous date. Regardless, you still enjoyed the day, even if you didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time alone. 

- You share your first kiss when you arrive back home. Colt and Tum Tum had immediately gone inside while Rocky and you stayed behind to talk a little. He apologized for the brotherly ambush and you assured him you didn’t mind. 

- He asked if you were sure and you laughed, nodding your head …then it just sort of happened. He leaned in and then you did and your lips met in a soft quick kiss before you pulled away and said a quiet goodbye. 

- Colt may not have been too happy to spot his brother locking lips with his best friend but he got over it and gave his reluctant blessing, letting you accomplish your childhood dream of being with Samuel. 

- There’s not a ton of pda in your relationship; mainly because his brothers are almost always nearby and he’s a little shy about that sort of thing. When there is pda, it’s usually pretty quick or on the friendlier appearing side of affection. 

- His arm wrapped around your shoulder whenever you’re standing together. 

- Sitting between his legs with his arms wrapped around you. 

- Handholding.

- Tight hugs. He always scoops you up in one whenever he wins a game or match. 

- Cheek kisses. 

- Soft, almost featherlight kisses. 

- Hair ruffling. 

- The two of you usually cuddle snuggled into each other with his arm wrapped around your shoulders, although, if you’re going to be completely alone, he must admit that he does enjoy spooning quite a bit. 

- Gushing over him whenever he wears his glasses, assuring him that you’re not making fun of him and that he really does look good in them. 

- Holding and momentarily stealing his hats. 

- Singing songs together/singing along to the radio.

- Teaching him about your interests and hobbies. He likes learning about them and trying them out whenever he can; even though he’s probably awful at them or knows he won’t like them.

- He likes looking at you whenever you aren't looking. You’ll catch him staring at you after you snap out of a daze or look away from whatever it was you were gazing at. He usually just shakes his head with a small smile whenever you ask him “what”.

- When you’re together, you’ll probably want to hang out somewhere outside or at your house; considering he shares a tiny room with both his brothers and you’ll never be completely left alone if you stay there.

- His brothers constantly interrupting the two of you.

- Both his brothers and occasionally his grandfather teasing him about you. He gets really shy about the whole thing and they love embarrassing him before you show up.

- He tends to just call you by your given name, though it’s very likely that he or one of his siblings/grandfather will come up with a nickname for you and he’ll use that a lot.

- Playing baseball; or all the other sports he plays, with him. He likes being able to teach you and watch you get all excited when you get better.

- Going to his games. 

- Letting him teach you karate. He always shoots his brothers dirty and warning looks when they laugh at you.

- Motivating and cheering him on at everything he does.

- He looks back at you whenever he’s going to do something, making sure that you’re watching before he does something impressive. He likes showing off when you’re around.

- Taking walks in the woods together.

- Climbing and sitting in trees.

- Talking over the phone/tin can. He always has to call you to say goodnight.

- Getting visited whenever you’re sick. He comes to make sure you’re okay and keep you company; even if he gets a little sick himself.

- He’s always jumping to help you; even when you tell him to do the opposite or that you don’t need his help. It’s endearing yet annoying.

- Riding bikes together. 

- Playing video games together; he either lets you win or tries to sabotage you depending on the day.

- Helping him cook and bake. You’re usually joined by Tum Tum who you have to watch very closely to ensure that the food actually gets made instead of consumed before it’s cooked.

- Getting taken to meet his grandfather or having Rocky introduce you to the man as his girlfriend after the two of you get together; at his brothers insistence. 

- He occasionally likes to sneak up on you and tap your shoulder from behind to make you jump. You can’t even be mad at him, not when you turn and see the smile he has on. 

- He hates seeing you upset and always asks a bunch of questions in an attempt to find out exactly what happened, making promises and trying his best to cheer you up while he does so.

- He’s pretty reasonable when it comes to jealousy so he doesn’t get jealous very often. On the off chance that he does, he’ll be patient but will tell the guy to back off if he doesn’t leave you alone; and if he’s obviously making you uncomfortable. 

-  Speaking of telling guys to back off, he’s always ready to defend or protect you when necessary. He’ll also always go look for you when you disappear or are gone for longer than you should be, wanting to make sure you’re okay and that nothing happened. 

- He has a habit of snapping when he’s embarrassed or mad so expect a snide comment or two. You’ll usually just say something along the lines of “ok geez” in response and a moment or two of silence will pass before the guilt gets to him and he sighs, beginning to explain himself and/or apologize. 

- If you have a real fight, he’ll do whatever he can to make you forgive him. He always makes promises, even if he doesn’t exactly follow through on them; but he does have the best intentions regardless. 

- He tells you that he loves you quite a bit; even though his brothers tease him for it. He just smiles at you and gives them a shove in response, not caring what they think. 

- A guy who loves you through puberty is definitely a keeper so congratulations on finding your ninja, honey. 

#3 ninjas imagine #3 ninjas imagines #3 ninjas headcanons #3 ninjas headcanon #rocky douglas imagine #rocky douglas headcanons #rocky douglas imagines #rocky douglas headcanon #90s movie imagine #90s movie imagines #90s movie headcanons #90s movie headcanon

[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 7 - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return. 

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 3.1k

Part 7 - Gift Giving

“So this is the last part of the house. The bedrooms,” you said, after giving Tom a quick tour around the mansion. “The guestroom is right at the end of the hallway.”

Tom peered towards the half-open door to the guestroom, that the house-elves were preparing for him.

“This right there is Elsie’s room, next to it is the master bedroom. And this,” you said, leaning onto a door. “Is my room.”

He turned back to you.

“Want to come in?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

There was a sense of excitement in the air, letting Tom enter your room. It was something so private, it felt like you let him walk straight into your head. But you wanted to be nice. He still seemed crushed from the argument he had had with his grandfather and uncle and you thought it would make him feel better if you showed him he was welcome here. 

“Take a seat if you want. Anywhere,” you said and went over to sit on your bed.

Tom slowly walked across the room towards your desk, his eyes incidentally scanning your belongings. He sat down on the chair by the desk and looked at the framed picture of you and your family that stood there.

“Sorry about my mother,” you mentioned when you noticed what he was inspecting.

Tom looked at you. “What do you mean?”

“She can be a bit brash, you know. When she asked you to stay earlier. But she usually means well.”

“Oh,” he spoke. “I didn’t mind actually. You know my family. They’re brash. And not the good kind.”

“Fair,” you agreed. “Have they always been that way?” 

“Since I can remember at least.”

There was a moment of silence. 

“I’m sorry,” you then said. 

“For what? That’s just how it is. They have their ways and I have mine.”

“Right. Did you know they would bring up the unbreakable vow?“

“No… I had no idea. They’re idiots. Just stupid. Why ask for more each time? They always want to be a step ahead for nothing.”

“What did you say to them?” you asked, hiding that you already knew.

“That I wouldn’t do it. They took our word for it then and that should be enough. They can’t force us to do a vow.”

“Are they mad at you?”

“Yes. But they’ll come around. It wasn’t our first argument and it won’t be our last.”

You pondered if you should say what you were thinking. Maybe it was a bit too much, but Tom didn’t seem bothered talking about his family. So you went on: “Do you ever wish it could have been different? To grow up with your parents, I mean. That would have made it easier, don’t you think?”

Tom smiled weakly, his eyes wandered across the floor and he shook his head. “Wishing for something won’t make it happen. And no. It would have been quite the same, I think. Maybe even worse.”

“Worse?”

“You’ve heard how Marvolo talks about my parents. His daughter and a muggle. A stain in the bloodline he said, didn’t he?” Tom chuckled lowly.

“But if they loved each other that shouldn’t have mattered to him.”

His eyebrows rose in what looked like a strange form of amusement. “Well, that’s a whole other story.”

You frowned. What did that even mean? You had heard all kinds of rumours about the Gaunt family and how Tom’s parents had met but never would have thought that one of them might be true. 

“Have they-”

Tom shook his head as he got up, making it clear that he wasn’t going to talk about it. He walked across the room towards you, fiddling something out from the inner pocket of his jacket. 

You had gone too far apparently and wondered if he was pulling out his wand or wanted to leave, but as you opened your mouth again, he sat down beside you and looked into your eyes.

“I’m going to tell you,” he said. “Not now though. You’re going to know everything about me eventually. Someday.”

“Someday then,” you repeated. “What have you got there?”

He held the thing from his jacket in his hand now. It was a package that seemed a bit squished as if it had barely fit into the pocket.

“Hold on,” he said and waved his wand at it, to smooth out the wrinkles on the paper. It was a present, a rectangular box, covered in dark green gift wrap.

“I thought it would be impolite to come over for lunch without bringing at least a little Christmas gift.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” you said as he handed over the present. 

“Go on, open it,” he said and motioned with his hand.

So you did and quickly found out what the package contained. A small handwritten book, full of potions recipes. 

“Nicked it from my uncle when he wasn’t looking,” Tom said. “So you better don’t mention it to him.”

“Oh great,” you laughed as you flipped through it. “Wow, I haven’t heard of any of these.”

“None of them are taught in school. I thought you’d like them. Didn’t seem like the ones we do with Slughorn were much of a challenge for you.”

The book looked as if it had been used a lot. The thin black binder was frayed and faded, and the edges of the pages were crinkled. On every other page, the handwriting changed, so it seemed that many different people had written the recipes. Poisons, antidotes and bewitchments you had never heard of were all listed, neatly explained and completed with full lists of ingredients.

“Where did your uncle get this from?” you asked, still looking through it.

“I’m not sure. Knockturn Alley perhaps, or on some market. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had added a few ones himself.”

As peculiar as it was, not many people could say they got a book of dark magic and probably illegal potions for Christmas.

“What an unusual gift. I do like it. Thank you, really!” you said and opened your arms to hug him, out of pure habit, but froze when you saw his stern expression, your arms still open. 

He looked into your eyes again, seemed to think for a moment and finally nodded to let you hug him. Just like when you had held hands, he was stiff and rigid, it felt like he was uncomfortable. You retracted, but as soon as you let go, he wrapped his arms around you and held you a little tighter, extending the embrace for a few more seconds.

There was a ghost of a smile on his face when you sat back straight and he was about to say something when the door flew open.

Tummy, one of the house-elves, stood in the door frame. “Miss, the guestroom is ready. Mister Riddle, Sir, please follow me.”

“Great,” Tom whispered sarcastically under his breath, got up and followed the elf.

You quickly hid the book under your pillow and called after them: “It’d be nice if you could knock next time, Tummy!”

“Sorry Miss! Will knock!” you heard him from the hallway.

When Mother called for dinner in the evening you picked up Tom from the guest room and went downstairs. 

Sitting at the table together was a bit awkward at first and no one said anything. It seemed that your parents were still thinking of the incident from lunch, but didn’t want to talk about it in front of Tom. You didn’t know what to say either and Tom wasn’t one to talk much in general.

“Tom?” Elsie said all of a sudden, breaking the silence.

“Yes?” he answered and you looked back and forth between the two.

“Did you know I’ll go to Hogwarts too next term?” Elsie went on, a very proud tone in her voice.

He grinned while picking up some green beans with his fork. “I did know that, yes.”

“I haven’t gotten the letter yet, so technically I don’t know if I’ll get in, but my parents said it will come on my eleventh birthday.”

“I’m sure it will.”

He had barely finished his last word when Elsie asked the next thing. 

“What’s your favourite subject?”

“Um… Defence Against The Dark Arts, I think,” Tom said. “It’s interesting enough.”

“Why?”

“Well,” he took a second to think. “I like to be prepared.”

“And you’re in Slytherin, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Do you have a favourite house?” 

You caught your parents exchanging looks and smiling at each other.

“Um… Well,” Elsie began. “I think they’re all nice. But Gryffindor is the best I guess.”

Tom clicked his tongue and shook his head jokingly. “Shame,” he said.

“Do you play Quidditch?” Elsie asked.

“No, I’m not into sports.”

“But can you fly?”

“Yes, I’m a decent flyer.”

She looked at your parents for a moment and whispered to Tom: “Do you think you can show me? How to fly a broom. I got one for Christmas, you see. And I-”

“Elsie,” Father said laughing. “Let the boy eat, please.”

“No, I can show you,” Tom said. “It’s the least I can do to show my respect after you’re letting me stay here.”

“That’s very kind of you Tom,” Mother said. “And you can stay as long as you like.”

“Thank you. I won’t bother you for long though,” he answered.

Dessert was served and Elsie peppered Tom with questions about brooms until Father finally told her to leave him alone. 

You thought of the book he had gifted you and knew that your parents would be pleased to hear that at least one member of the Gaunt family had manners. They didn’t need to know exactly what it was about. 

“Tom gave me a Christmas present earlier,” you said.

He shot you a quick look as if to ask you if you were out of your mind telling your parents about this. You ignored him.

“Oh really?” Father asked. “What is it?”

“A Potions book. Handwritten. It looks very rare,” you said and looked at Tom who was still staring at you. “It’s like an extended version of our school books. I can use it to perfect my skills. Maybe I’ll even get an O on my N.E.W.T.s because of it.”

“Oh lovely,” Mother said. “Where have you got that from?”

“Diagon Alley,” Tom lied and seemed to be more relaxed now.

“Very nice,” Mother said and turned towards you. “But you didn’t have anything for him, did you?” 

“No,” you mumbled.

“Well, let’s talk about that another time. Tom, have you heard about the time when we went on a trip to Italy?”

Later that night, when you lay in bed, you pulled the book out from under your pillow and held it for a while. It probably wasn’t even meant to be so special, but the fact that Tom had thought of giving you a present for Christmas, was not what you would have expected.

And you hadn’t even wasted a single thought about getting him something. How ignorant. 

You wondered how he felt about that. If he even felt about that, one way or another.

Your fingertip ran up and down the book spine countless times while you stared up onto the ceiling. You had to get him something. Something special.

And then you wondered if he couldn’t sleep either. If he wanted to talk for just a bit as well. If he thought about lying next to you, too. You could try to sneak out of your room and over to the guest room. Your parents wouldn’t like that of course, but you were going to marry him. They had to get used to the thought. And if you were quiet enough, they wouldn’t even notice.

You sat up slowly, put the book back under your pillow and tiptoed to the door of your room. Turning the doorknob as quietly as possible and holding your breath, you looked out into the dark hallway. You wouldn’t even need light, you knew this hallway like the back of your hand. Fifteen, maybe twenty quick steps and you would be right by the door to the guest room. So you took the first step out of your room.

“Miss!” a squeaky voice whispered in the dark from below. 

It was Tummy, standing there alone. 

“Tummy?” you asked quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“Miss, master told Tummy to keep watch all night. So that Mister Riddle wouldn’t disturb you in your room.”

Great. Your parents were a few steps ahead. 

“Can Tummy get you anything, Miss?”

“No, I… I just thought I heard something,” you sighed. “Does Father really force you to stay up all night? You can go downstairs to sleep if you want to.”

“No, Miss, no,” the elf said and smiled. “Tummy sleeps right here on the floor. I have very good ears, yes. I hear every little noise, you see? I will wake up whenever I hear something and alert the masters.”

Unbelievable. They had thought of everything.

“I see,” you said. “But I’m not afraid Tom would disturb me. You really can go downstairs.”

“Miss, Tummy is thankful for your offer, but I must follow the master's order. Tummy doesn’t mind it.”

“Alright then,” you gave up. “Hang on though.”

You went back into your room, walked up to your bed and fetched one of the three pillows from there. 

“Take this at least,” you told the elf and gave him the pillow. “It’s big enough for you to sleep on.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Please.”

“I insist,” you said with a jokingly strict tone.

Tummy smiled, took the pillow and nodded. “Thank you, Miss. Tummy is very grateful.”

“Good night, Tummy.

“Good night, Miss.”

The following day went by quicker than you had wanted it to. Father, Tom and Elsie went outside in the late morning to give Elsie her long-awaited flying lessons. They were a great team, against all expectations. You watched them from the kitchen window and noticed how Father held himself back from helping. He kept a careful eye on the two when Tom showed Elsie how to mount the broom correctly.

Elsie listened intently to everything Tom told her, tried to follow each step precisely and could properly hold herself in the air after a while. Father and Tom seemed incredibly proud, not only of themselves but of your little sister.

You could have watched them for hours, but Mother had called you to the reading room, to go to Diagon Alley via the Floo Network. You had asked her to take her with you since you wanted to get some new quills for school and a proper Christmas present for Tom.

Thankfully Diagon Alley wasn’t too busy, yet it took you a while to find an appropriate gift. You hadn’t even known where to start looking, but when you finally saw it in the shop window, you knew it was perfect.

Back home, Elsie, Father and Tom were just walking back inside, their cheeks and noses all plump from the hours they had spent out in the cold. Elsie jumped through the living room excitedly and told Mother and you how high up she was able to fly now. She had even attempted to do some advanced twists but almost had taken a fall.

Father patted Tom on the shoulder and thanked him for his time, which made Tom’s ears turn almost as pink as his cheeks and nose.

After congratulating your sister on her achievement, you turned to Tom and said: “Would you follow me? There’s something I want to show you.”

You took him to the reading room, where the parcel you got him stood under the desk.

“Long day, huh?” you asked when you closed the door behind you.

He nodded. “Long but successful. Your sister is a quick learner. She could make it on the Quidditch team one day.”

“Thank you for teaching her,” you said. “We all appreciate it.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Now that you were with him, you didn’t know where to start. Should you tell him about lying in bed with the book in your hand, thinking of him? That you almost would have knocked on his door in the middle of the night, if Tummy had not been there? That could sound terribly invasive. What if he wouldn’t have wanted you to come? Now that you thought about it, you were glad that Tummy had spoiled your plan. Nighttime certainly made you too reckless.

“I hope you slept well,” you mumbled mindlessly. Merlin, why would you say that?

“I um…” Tom looked at you surprisedly. “Yes, I did.”

“Good.”

“If it wasn’t for the elf in the hallway, it would have been even better,” Tom added nonchalantly.

How would he also know about Tummy? Did he leave his room too? You scanned him questioningly and Tom smirked.

“Father is overprotective,” you answered. 

“Shame, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.”

You looked at each other, both with mischievous smiles on your faces. It would not have been awkward at all if you had gone over to his room last night. Tummy be damned.

“I thought of your present a lot,” you went on, changing the subject. “And I decided I had to get you something as well.”

“Not necessary. Your family let me stay the night, that’s more than en-”

“Stop it,” you snapped playfully and went to get the parcel from under the table. “There’s not a lot of things I thought suited Tom Riddle. But this does, I believe.”

He took the box with both hands, as it was quite big, placed it onto the desk and pulled off the top.

“Oh,” he breathed when he looked inside.

“Her name is Nagini. She’s not fully grown yet.”

Tom took a dark green, medium-sized snake out of the box and let it curl around his arm. 

“Did you know?” he asked.

“Know what?”

“That I’m a Parselmouth.”

“Yes,” you nodded. “People in Hogwarts were talking about it years ago and then I thought of your house and your relation to Salazar Slytherin. It made sense.”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely, looking into your eyes before he watched Nagini gliding from one of his arms to the other. “Stretch out your arm for me.”

You did and let your fingers touch his. Both of you now stood there with one arm pointing towards each other. The snake slithered around Tom’s arm, quickly making its way towards his outstretched fingers and over to yours. It hissed quietly while wandering up to your shoulder.

“She likes you,” Tom said softly. “A lot.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Credit where credit is due: My boyfriend came up with the house-elf’s name. I don’t know where that came from but I won’t make him stop. He also gave him a short backstory. I might try to implement it into the story line if you’re interested.

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[woahajimes]

Jon Kent had become an excellent liar. 

“We're never finding Damian.” 

That was a lie, although it could also count as truth. They were never finding Damian. 

He was. 

He didn’t have any of this information assured, but he was trusting that it kept real. He had known Damian for at least a year and a half, perhaps even less, but it had felt like forever. It was funny how people changed over time. 

When he met Damian, things were rocky. Jon actually despised Damian, he tried to get away from him. He’d always make excuses for leaving, either with Kathy, or his dad, or Maya, even. Damian had been too cocky, a little far too confident. 

Too sure of himself and his abilities, it made Jon angry. 

It filled him with envy. 

When they were sent to boot camp, Jon realized something. Damian was, sure, older than him, and more mature, and maybe not taller, but he was more skilled than Jon in almost everything he could do. 

Damian was, in a way, just like him. A small way, of course. Nothing big, they weren’t mirror on mirror. Jon hadn’t been raised by a supervillain grandfather, and Damian wasn’t a half-breed between an alien and a human.

That was really the reason that he offered Damian the granola bar. He realized the small chance that they were similar. They were both lost, in different ways, but lost altogether. Jon didn’t actually know if Damian had ever been lost, if Damian even knew that being lost meant. 

Maybe someday he’d find out. 

When Damian slipped into his room, mocked him for going to sleep while the moon was still living, when he dragged him out the window, mocked him once more for not being able to fly, that’s when Jon knew there was something. Something in Damian that made Jon want to stay, just for a while longer. 

When they matched in school, just a few educational years of a difference, nothing much, Jon was psyched. They were already close friends, even though not much had passed since Damian had visited him at night that first time. 

What could he say? They became friends pretty quickly. 

When Kid Amazo destroyed their headquarters, Jon and Damian had become pretty close friends. They were actually joking with each other, and mocking each other and making fun of each other, as friends do. Of course, Jon wouldn’t exactly know this by the palm of his hand, for friends weren’t exactly his area of expertise. 

Yet Damian felt like a friend, like a best friend. 

After all, he had saved him, when Jon was drowning at the bottom of Morrison Bay, given him a rebreather, and swam Jon’s limp, unconscious body for a few minutes, until Jon regained consciousness. 

Saving each other’s lives, they were practically inseparable. 

Their second Summer together came around, the whole gig with the cube of the fortress and the primary colours of Jon. If he was being honest, he really enjoyed that summer, perhaps the best summer in his ten years of life. Jon had always wanted a sibling, and that summer it felt like he had hit the jackpot. He could finally say that Damian was his best friend, at least without getting elbowed in the stomach. The golden kryptonite, Jon took it as a gift, being split in two, it was a portion of something he had wanted for so long: A brother. And even though having somewhat of a twin wasn’t as fun as he had expected, he enjoyed it, for as long as it lasted. 

Jon remembers telling Damian that he’s going to spend time with his grandfather. Jon was spending the night at the manor, he was sitting in front of the TV. 

“Hey, D?” Jon turned from the TV, he looked at Damian. “What are we doing this summer?” 

Damian drifted his eyes from the screen. He looked at Jon. “What do you mean?”

Jon rolled his eyes. “Summer is in like two days, dummy.” 

Damian shrugged, his eyes wandering back to the TV. “Nothing much, why?” 

Jon turned back to face the TV. “I think I’m going to go see my grandpa.” 

“Cool.” And that had been that. 

Jon should have told Damian a bit more, maybe then he would have been opposed to Jon leaving. Instead, he had left out minor details from Damian, details Clark had told him when Jon had left, when Jon had already spent a few years in the volcano prison. 

Jon had to admit that his time in the volcano prison had messed him up a bit. He had thought about Damian a lot, more than he’d like to admit. If Jon was around… what? Fifteen? Then Damian would have been around eighteen. It struck him a few days later, just how much he’d missed. Damian would have already left the school, maybe gone to some college for smart super-hero ninjas. Probably forgotten all about him, about the summer of super and the Kid Amazo and all the things that Jon held tight to his chest. He probably forgot about the time they played Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with pillow forts and nerf guns, about the times they ate cotton candy, sitting on the roof of the Carousel in the Hamilton fair. Pairing up for sports, even though they were three years apart in grades. 

Damian had probably forgotten about all that. 

It was really the Hamilton fairs that got to Jon. He used to love those as a kid. He went for the first time when he was nine, second time ten, third time eleven. The second time he went, it had been Jon’s first year since meeting Damian.

Damian couldn’t go for some mission with Batman, but Jon had met up with Kathy, He told her all about his adventures with Damian. She kept quiet, mostly because Jon wouldn’t be. It was pretty insane to think that this had all been in the same year, Jon meeting Damian, Jon moving away from Hamilton, to a private school, creating a public figure alongside Damian: the Super Sons. Nearly drowning in Morrison Bay, his mom almost killed, it was a bit too much for the mind of a 10-year-old.

Yet Jon got to the part in which he called Damian his best friend, and Kathy spoke up.

“Jon,” She stopped what she was doing and she met eyes with him. “What is it you even like about Damian?”

The question had caught him off-guard. “I- He’s kinda nice someti-”

“No,” Kathy interrupted him. “Not really, no. He’s not that nice at all.”

Jon kept quiet. He shrugged it off with a simple “I guess so,” and the night kept moving. He returned home, but Kathy’s question rung in his ears.

“What is it you even like about Damian?”

Jon sat on the office chair in his room, a marker on his hand. He stared blankly at the 9x9 whiteboard in front of him. He uncapped the marker and wrote down Damian’s name. 

He’s funny sometimes, Jon thought to himself. When he’s not being mean. He decided to write that down. 

He’s really smart, too. Jon wrote that down as well. 

He wrote down a few more things, all jots, and he reminded himself of the paper he had written for school not long ago. He took out his backpack, his binder, carefully opened the rings and slid out his paper. He started skimming it. 

“ ‘If I had to describe Damian in one word, it would be dependable,’ Jeez,’ Jon whispered into the room. “What was going on in my head?” 

He kept reading. “ ‘No matter what, when the chips are down, he always takes care of me.’” Yeah, that part was true. 

He read the last part in his head. I know I can trust him no matter what kinda trouble we find ourselves in.

Jon capped the marker, he deleted everything he had written on the whiteboard. He didn’t need a list for all the things he liked about Damian. He knew already, Damian was his best friend, no questions needed. 

Jon had done and said things he wasn’t proud of. He for one, developed new habits, bad habits. He wanted to pin an excuse on them, that it wasn’t his fault that he had developed such habits. It was just his reaction to being put in situations like that. Example taken, Jon had started to talk to himself. He wasn’t exactly sure if it was a habit or a sign that he was going insane, but he didn’t like it altogether. Remembering it was torture, it was a habit he started in the volcano prison. 

Jon clearly remembers that the first time he talked to himself, to Damian. When exactly, he wasn’t sure, but Jon had a hard time getting used to the lack of things, in this case, a small daily occurrence he shared with Damian. 

Their shared habit started in their first sleepover, it had rooted from something they were watching on the TV. The woman on the screen was putting her kids to sleep, and she asked her youngest boy, “What was your favourite part of the day?”, to which the boy answered “spending time with you, mom.” 

Damian snorted. “Let’s  watch something else.”

Jon whipped his head around and looked at Damian. “Let’s pick a movie.” His eyes beamed, he was grinning. 

They had picked out a movie they never got tired of rewatching: Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid. They had turned off the movie early, Alfred coming in and telling them to get ready to sleep. 

Each in their perspective beds, both had been quiet for a while, until Damian spoke up. He pitched his voice, and said, “What was your favourite part of the day?” Mimicking the woman. 

Jon snickered. “Spending time with you, Dami.” He pronounced the new nickname like ‘Day-me’, and heard Damian make a vomiting sound. 

“Don’t you dare call me that,” Damian sat up, and Jon did as well. “I will end you, Kent.”

Jon waved his hand, he could make out Damian’s expression even with the lights turned off. “Pfft, what about Dami?” He pronounced it like ‘D-ah-me’. 

Damian’s expression softened. “Mother used to call me that,” he said. “She wasn’t very fond of nicknames, but I guess she liked that one.”

Jon felt heat rising to his cheeks. He hadn’t meant to touch a sore subject. He knew there was a complicated relationship with Damian and his mom. “I think I’ll just stick with ‘D’.” he said quickly. 

Damian laid back down on his bed, he turned away from Jon. “No, it’s fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night, J.” 

Jon still sat on the bed, he arranged his pillow. “D?”

“Yeah?”

“‘Hukka’” 

Jon could have sworn Damian smiled, just a little. “‘Hukka’, Jon.”

It was embarrassing to sorts, Jon had to admit. Whispering ‘Hukka’ to himself at night, swearing that he could see Damian if he just squinted a little bit. Asking Damian how his day went, swearing that he could almost hear an answer, the things you did for lost best friends. 

Jon had also thought about Damian, yet in more ways than those. Sometimes he wondered if Damian still wore turtlenecks, if he had made any new friends. What if he had gotten a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend? Worse, what if Damian had found a new best friend? A new super-hero partner, someone that didn’t leak tears when they watched movies like Coraline. Someone more like Damian, like a… super-smart ninja assassin. 

When Jon finally spotted earth, a late teen, he started thinking about everything that could have been. Perhaps if Jon hadn’t left, him and Damian would have been having ice cream and maybe getting their own statue as the super sons. Maybe they’d have moved past the Super sons. 

Jon wondered where Damian was now. Maybe he was Batman, although Jon secretly wished that he wasn’t. He had always thought that Batman was cool, but it wasn’t really Damian. Batman was in a way, everything that Damian wasn’t. But if Damian wanted to be Batman, then Jon really didn’t see why not. Could Jon be the Superman to his Batman? Maybe? 

It took him as an overall surprise, realizing that only three weeks had passed. It made hope linger in his stomach, a fluttery feeling. Maybe he hadn’t missed so much after all. 

But Damian had stared at him like a stranger, like he used to stare at the boys at school. It made Jon’s heart stop beating, just for a few moments. He wanted to cry on Damian’s shoulder, even if Damian had only aged three weeks. Damian had rejected him, and that hurt more than Jon could have expected. Damian had collected himself, after a short time, and they spent the night together. Then, before Damian left, he hugged Jon, tightly. Maybe Damian was also feeling what Jon was. 

Maybe his letter proved that. Maybe the letter was Damian’s way of expressing everything that he felt for Jon. 

So Jon set out to find Damian, to ask him about the letter. To finally explain to him everything he wanted to say. 

#////// #lunatick #damian wayne #jon kent #jon has a crush on damian :person_doing_cartwheel: #super sons #supersons #batman #superman #UGHHH WHAT DO I WRITEEEE #superboy #robin #yknow what im tagging the ship dassi #t #damijon #jondami #okay aye #....omg its literally 2.2k words this is so long im so sorry

[hargreevestan]

Unexpected Company (Part II), Five x female!Reader

Authors Note: This is a continuation of Part 1!! A reminder that Five played by a minor, so out of respect please superimpose Five’s character onto an age appropriate face claim if you are an adult like myself! (I felt it was inappropriate to describe what the reader finds cute about Aidan Gallagher, so I’m just describing Harry Styles since they're both brunettes with green eyes. Close enough?) Anyways, here Five meets up with reader at the library, but not without drinking his Respect Women juice. 

Trigger Warnings: Second hand embarrassment perhaps?? 

“You know, there are some people who consider your beverage choice to be sacrilegious,” Five said, setting down two paper cups on the circular table before taking his seat.

“What can I say? I was never much of a traditionalist, ” (Y/N) replied, looking up from her computer. “Thanks for getting drinks, by the way. How much was it?” she asked as she reached for her wallet. Five caught her hand and playfully grabbed her wrist.

“Monetarily, it was nothing. However, the toll on my dignity of having to look another man in the eyes and ask for a ‘decaf salted caramel mocha with almond milk’? No way I’m getting that back,” he teased before letting go. “So, any updates on your research?”

(Y/N) felt her face heat up, promptly turning her face towards the computer screen before Five could notice. “Still just reading up on previous quantum theories, but-” she stopped mid sentence, “Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’ll give you three guesses,” he replied as he poured the contents of a silver flask into his half-finished coffee.

“You can’t do that here! You didn’t even add creamer or anything!”

“Shhh, we’re in the library,” Five joked in a low voice.

This part of the building was the ugliest and most inconvenient to get to. It was just a few metal tables on the third floor, surrounded by shelves of archived files that were rarely seeked out. Five and (Y/N) were the only two in the left-wing study room. While it was usually pretty desolate, it was especially so on account of it being a Friday night.

“How do you even get in here, by the way? Don’t they check for student IDs past eight?” she asked.

“I have my ways,” he shrugged and took off his black sports jacket. He had on a forest green sweater underneath.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. It seemed her new friend insisted quite often on being unnecessarily mysterious. Sometimes it was endearing, but at others it came off as pretentious. Truly, how much could there be to him? She had met plenty of boys that approximately resembled Five over the years, with their clean-cut exteriors and perfect teeth that screamed trust-fund baby. Though, admittedly, it was much harder to visualize Five adorned in Greek letters as he did keg stands in the backyard of a frat house.

“Anyways,” she continued, “I’m looking at several models of the space-time continuum. Sometimes, I don’t know why I chose time travel for my dissertation topic. Everything is always contradicting itself.”

“Like what?”

“There’s the idea that the universe itself preserves consistency across the timeline at an atomic level-”

Five snorted and cut her off, “Trust me, that one is a load of crap.”

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him. Even though she was the PhD student, Five had managed to aid her research with calculations and helpful insights of theoretical material that most academics found confusing. “How do you know so much, again?” she asked.

“I’ve had a lot of time to read in the past,” Five deadpanned.

(Y/N) gave him a slow nod, “Of course.”

The pair discussed astrophysics for a while longer before independently conducting their research.

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *

Five was gently shaking (Y/N) shoulder, waking her, “Hey.”

“Oh shit, did I fall asleep? Sorry, what time is it?” she replied, rubbing her eyes.

“Half past two. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

(Y/N) shook her head, “No, no, it’s okay. I live like, ten minutes away.”

“I know, but you’re also a very easy target for muggers.”

“What do you mean? I am stealth personified.”

“Catch,” he said, tossing an eraser her way. (Y/N) fumbled it in her hands before having to reach down and retrieve it from the floor. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Five commented, “Let’s go.”

They packed their things and made their way towards the elevator.

“So, how come you’re spending your Friday nights at the library?” (Y/N) questioned as Five pressed the down button.

“I could ask you the same,” he answered, eyes fixed on the numbers above the door.

“Well, I’m trying to graduate this semester. You, on the other hand, aren’t even a student.”

“I guess I’ve always just been interested in time travel,” he spoke as the elevator car arrived. He turned his head to look at (Y/N), the corners of his mouth turned the slightest bit upwards to form the reminiscent of a smile. “Ladies first,” he gestured towards the open doors.

“I mean, a lot of people like time travel. But they usually are like it in a sci-fi, comic book way; not the theoretical framework of it.”

“I’m big on utility.”

The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and Five followed her out the doors and through the lobby. Once they stepped outside, (Y/N) shuddered as her lungs filled with the cold autumn night air that so starkly differed the warm interior of the library. Subconsciously, she stepped closer to Five. Of course, he was unfazed by the weather. 

“Cold?” he asked, noticing his companion beginning to shiver.

“Yeah, kind of. Are you?”

“Eh, I’ve been through worse,” he said before shaking off his jacket and handing it to her.

She sheepishly took it, “Thank you.”

The two began to walk home. Somewhere along the way, it hit (Y/N) how cute Five was. She studied his appearance. A few brown locks stood messily out of place, probably as a result of him running his fingers through his hair. He tended to do that when he was deep in thought. He was looking straight ahead, his features illuminated by the street lamps or the occasional headlights of a passing car. There was something both solemn and dignified about him. He paused and looked at her.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, we’re here.”

“Oh, yeah, we are,” she said, turning her head to look at the yellow apartment building to her right.

“You okay?” he asked, noticing her strange behavior.

“Yeah, it’s just...” The porch lights shone against his face, lighting up his green eyes. She looked at his mouth and took a step forward.”

“(Y/N)?”

She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to kiss him. She pressed her lips against his, wrapping both arms around his shoulders. After a moment, Five put his hands on (Y/N)’s waist, keeping his arms stiff as he took a step back.

“(Y/N), you aren’t even old enough to drink!” he stated, eyebrows raised upwards with concern.

“What are you- are you old enough to drink?” she countered, pulling away.

“Listen, I can’t see you like that… I’m too old for you, it’s wrong,” he explained.

While (Y/N) could handle rejection, she couldn’t stand to see Five make up reasons as to why he didn’t kiss her back.

“Five, it’s okay, I get it. I misread the situation, I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” she told him. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Also, I thought I was a year older than you.”

“No, you aren’t. I mean, physically, yeah, but I’m old enough to be your grandfather.”

“Five, come on, you really don't have to do this...” (Y/N) repeated, taking a step back.

“Okay, listen, you’re a brilliant young woman. I adore you, much like how I adore my niece Claire. Your research- it’s going to be world-changing, especially to me… (Y/N), I think its time we have a talk about who I am.”

#five #five x reader #number five #number five x reader #five fic #five fanfic #number five fic #number five fanfic #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves fic #five hargreeves fanfic #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fic #the umbrella academy fanfic #the umbrella academy au #tua #tua fic #tua fanfic #umbrella academy #umbrella academy fic #umbrella academy fanfic