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emeritusemeritus · 9 months

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Me, however. [Fred Weasley]

(Gif not mine)

Title: Me, However.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader, implied Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger.

Timeline: Non-specified.

Summary: Ginny doesn’t find ginger men attractive, the same can’t be said for her friends.

Warnings: Mentions of implied sex, mainly just fluff and humour. Some original background characters have been created just for purposes of the story.

"I'm just saying, ginger men are literally the worst looking, I'd never chose one," Ginny says harshly, raising her hands in defeat at she makes her point.

"Gee thanks sis," Fred says, leaning forward to tap her on the back of the head, not to hurt her but just enough to ruffle her hair and frustrate her.

"Yeah, way to make a guy feel pretty," George mutters with the same playful tone as his brother, flicking out his long hair as if to push it sassily over his shoulder. Ginny simply roles her eyes at their behaviour, turning to Parvati who tries to argue the point.

"Yeah but Septimus Goshawk, he's ginger and he's fit!" Parvati says arguing the point, met with an enthusiastic nod from her sister. Fred and George sat back with smug looks on their face at the new information, shooting a 'told you' look towards Ginny.

"Or Rigby Tennerfink!" Padma piped up, mentioning the wizard singer, one of the infamous heartthrobs.

"Gross!" Ginny scrunched her face up, picturing the red haired singer serenading a crowd of adoring women. "The only man for me is Aegus Troy," she adds, a smile passing her lips as she daydreams about the blonde Irish Chaser.

"Ginny, you used to fancy Gilderoy Lockhart, you're hardly one to talk," Hermione laughs, earning a chuckle from the group.

"And you fancy Ron so you're entirely biased!" Ginny replies, laughing at Hermione who tries to protest but it's a hopeless endeavour. "I need someone who is completely neutral here and doesn't fancy one of my brothers"

"Have you seen Bill? That'll be hard to find!" Parvati says, earning a giggle from the girls in the group. Fred and George groan simultaneously in defeat at hearing their oldest brother's name brought up, once again being the target of girls affections.

"Aha! Y/n!"

You walk down the stairs from your dorm, throwing a cardigan over your shoulders as you walked, only to be greeted by the group in the common room who all look up at you expectedly as Ginny calls you over.

"You're unbiased," she begins to say, pausing briefly as you move to be beside the couch where George and Fred sat, perching on the arm of the sofa next to Fred.

"I don't know, dark magic isn't really my thing," you say sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the brothers next to you.

"Not that! Are ginger men unattractive? I need someone unbiased, someone who hasn't shagged or wants to shag my brothers," she says, getting comically irate as she desperately tries to prove her point.

George suddenly snorts out a loud laugh that he desperately tries to cover with a fake cough, leading Ginny to shoot daggers at him and then you.

"You haven't!" She spits out, turning her head to shoot daggers at her brother. "George!"

"Course not!" He says trying to seem as honest as he can as he raises his hands in surrender.

"No way," you reply sincerely.

"I would never do that to you," George says in complete honesty, though his resolve is cracking quickly and you can hear a tone of humour in his voice, though it appears Ginny didn't pick up on it.

"Oh," Ginny says, realising her mistake and shooting an apologetic look at you and then George.

"Me however..." Fred says with a laugh, admitting everything, immediately making a blush form on your cheeks as you all laugh at Ginny's over the top gasp. She throws a cushion at Fred who laughs, grabbing it and throwing it onto his brother beside him. He then reaches up to grab you and slide you across into his lap as you squeal, feeling his cold hands wrapping around your waist as he holds you firmly on his lap, placing a kiss in your hair, finally able to in public now the secret was out.

"No way! Do I not have one friend that hasn't slept with my brothers?!"

"We haven't," Padma and Parvati say quickly and defensively in complete sync.

"Although if Bill offered..." Padma adds, causing another groan to fall from Fred and George. George dramatically groans and falls back to lean on you as Fred's head drops into your shoulder in disgust, causing you to laugh.

"Well at least I know who my true friends are," Ginny huffs, though her words hold no weight as she smiles sarcastically.

"Or future sister in laws," George quips, only to be smacked by another cushion, this time launched by Hermione.

When no laugh comes from Fred as expected, you turn to look at him questioningly only to be met with a small smile tugging at his lips. When he catches you looking, he offers a sort of one sided shrug, eyebrows raising with a wide smile, as if he completely agreed with George.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #harry potter #emeritusemerituswrites #emeritusemeritus

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vandal-flower · 3 months

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We Never Go Out of Style~

Blue Lock Boys with a s/o who is fashionable.

Requested Characters: Shouei Barou, Ryusei Shidou and Ranze Kurona

Notes: Don't look at me like that...

Shouei Barou

He dresses very decently, you just add a little sparkle to the mix.

"Shouei, trust me. The biker boyfriend aesthetic fits you."

He's your favourite test model subject meant just for you.

Sometimes, his sisters also join in to play dress up with their older brother. (Just think about it!)

He acts annoyed, but he's secretly enjoying it to the fullest.

When people tell him how good he looks, he always responds with:

"My s/o picked this out for me. Not like you would know with what you're wearing."

He becomes sour when someone compliments your outfit before him.

"A peasant like them complimenting you before me? Hmm, they should know their place before the king, and royal spouse.

He be holding grudge matches ever since he was born. Beat his own world record. (Isagi and Rin could never!)

Ryusei Shidou

We love dragging men back to the closet. This one especially.

Like you know he has a sense of style, but HE DOESN'T.

"Ryusei, please you can't wear rags with hot pink, and with that horrendous belt. It's an ugly neon."

So that's why you are in a relationship with him. You love him with your whole heart, despite everyone calling him a zesty cockroach. (True love)

He truly loves how you help him, as all your attention is on him, and him alone.

I think he really loves you...

When people tell him how good he looks, he always responds with:

"Oh this? My radical s/o got it for me. Jealous you ain't got a partner like them?

He gets angry when someone compliments your outfit before him.

"He knew I was here first, yet he had the spine to compliment you."

Put him on a leash before he jumps someone. (Just call Ego to pay for medical bills.)

Ranze Kurona

The one character most of us are at peace with. Shark boi.

"How do I look (Name)?"

"Ranze, you're wearing a pink shark onsie to bed, while I'm wearing a ____ shark onsie. We're matching!"

Honestly he's so...so pure. I can't. He looks good in almost anything, but prefers a little pink on it.

Also some shark themes truly get him going!

He always takes your advice, since you're more experienced in the fashion field. He loves the fact you get to help him. (😭😭)

When people tell him how good he looks, he always responds with:

"Oh, thank you, thank you. My s/o helped me pick this out, you should check their social media!"

He's actually calm when someone compliments your outfit before him.

"I'm a little sad that I wasn't able to compliment you first, but I still think you look beautiful. Very beautiful!"

Boys in Blue Lock, take notes! Kurona is the green flag you could be. (🤭🤭)

Do you got style?

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #barou shouei #barou shouei x reader #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #kurona ranze #kurona x reader #vandal-flower

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discount-shades · 1 year

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Contract Spouse Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Past

A/N: Nervous and excited. This whole series should be about 9 chapters.

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning: Angst, brief mentions of child abuse

Length: 2900 ish

Summary: A bit of back story and we find out who Pip is.

Previous Masterlist Next

The first time Jake saw you you were five years old on the school playground. At eleven he had felt all the responsibility of a big brother to look out for his little sister, Sami, on her first day of kindergarten. So when recess came around he was watching for her.

Sami had come charging up to him and tackled him with a hug, knocking him to the ground and pushing the wind out of him. You had come sprinting after her, bruised knees, skinny arms, and big eyes in a too thin face. You had looked so short compared to his little sister who, even at five, had the tall Seresin genes, though in reality you were probably the same size as the other five year olds.

You had grabbed his sister and pulled her off of him. “Sami! Be careful we can't get in trouble!” you had glanced around for teachers, a worried look on your face. Sami had introduced you, “this is my brother, Jake!” She had laughed then, "I am allowed to crash into him.”

“You should listen to Pipsqueak.” He massaged his ribs as he got up. “She'll keep you out of trouble.”

“That's not my name!” your indignant answer had made him smile.

“Yeah, but it suits you.” He had chuckled and it was the name that stuck. In time more people knew you by Pip than your actual name.

That's how it had always been, Pip and Sami. Everyone would always comment on how his little sister was the bad influence for poor little Pip. He understood, Sami was reckless, she always had been, with just enough regard for rules to keep her out of serious trouble. And you were always by her side, usually with a plausible enough excuse or alibi to get them out of the impending consequences. You knew the school conduct policy to the letter and used every loophole you could to get out of trouble. It didn’t always work.

He would know. His Dad had gotten sick when he was sixteen. It had been Jake who drove to the elementary school to pick the two of you up from detention or from whatever unofficial community services style reparations the two of you had been assigned to make up for Sami’s shenanigans.

All of his mothers time had been taken up by working at the diner and caring for his father in his final year. Jake had gotten an after school job to help out and worked nearly thirty hours a week on top of school and all the extracurriculars he could fit in to pad his application to the Naval Academy. He knew it was the only way he could afford a university education with his parents' hospital bills.

In that time you were his sister's rock. Ten years old, going on fifty. You spent more time at his house than your own and he never questioned it. He never questioned the bruises that you claimed were from being clumsy despite the fact that he never saw you fall. He never questioned how you flinched at loud noises or waving arms, he would just laugh at how easy you were to startle.

You were there when his father died and held his sister together as he tried to keep his mother from falling apart.

You had been the one to talk his sister out of taking a baseball bat to her first boyfriend's car when he cheated. He was, however, pretty sure it was your idea to shred ten bubblegum air fresheners and stick them in the heat vents, though no one could prove anything. You were the sober one at all the parties, making sure Sami got home. He had been at the Naval Academy by that time but had never felt the need to worry too much about Sami, after all, she had you.

He was in flight school when his sister had called him in a rage on January 2nd of her senior year. “They kicked her out, Jake!” Sami had ranted. “Like she’s a piece of trash, they just threw her out the day she turned eighteen.”

“Woah,” he said placatingly. “Who kicked who out?”

“Pip!” Sami exclaimed. “Today is her eighteenth birthday and her parents kicked her out.” He could hear heavy breathing through the phone. “They said she was an adult and she wasn’t allowed in their house anymore! She hasn’t even graduated!”

“Mom took her in, right?” Jake couldn't help being concerned. He didn’t think of you as a sister but you had been a constant in his life and were family, even if he couldn’t explain how.

“Obviously,” Jake smiles at Sami’s dramatic enunciation of the word. “But that's not the point! It’s Pip, and it's unfair.”

“I get it,” Jake reassured, “but it might be for the best, her parents suck, I don’t think it was a good house to grow up in.” As he got older Jake began to recategorize the things you would do as a child. Sami didn’t respond and the conversation lapsed into silence.

“Well I have good news.” Jake changed the subject. “I’m going to be doing my advanced training at Kingsville.” Jake was excited to be living a half hour from his hometown for the first time since he left for the Naval Academy six years before.

“That's really great, Jake!” Sami exclaimed, “but we did give Pip your bedroom.”

Jake laughed, “No worries, I’ll be staying on the base, but I’ll visit, I’ll be there in two months.”

– – –

When he did finally manage to make it home everyone was sitting quietly on the couches with pinched brows and worry on their faces as he walked through the door. “What's going on?” he glanced around and saw Pip looking at Sami and shaking her head ever so slightly.

“Oh for fuck sakes, Pip!” Sami declared to his mothers squawk of offense. “Pip just found out she has thyroid cancer and because her piece of shit parents kicked her out she doesn’t have any health insurance and can't pay for treatment.”

Jake looked over at your set jaw and mutinous expression. “Jesus Pip, what can we do?”

“You are going to marry her.” Sami stated it like it was an observation on the weather.

“What!” Jake's jaw dropped, confused. “What's that going to solve?”

“Your military health insurance, Nimrod!” Sami rolled her eyes like it was obvious. “If she is married to you she has access to your healthcare!”

“Sami, I told you, contract marriages are illegal,” you spoke up for the first time rubbing your temple. “I’ll figure something else out.”

“Nope, you are marrying Jake,” Sami counters. “You are not going to jail, and you are not going into medical debt before you have even graduated. I told you to come up with a plan to make the marriage seem real and you probably already have one to get away with it.”

Jake watched you reluctantly nod. “Good,” Sami continues, “You're over eighteen and Jake’s military so the 72 hour wait time can be waived.” She relays the specifics of the paperwork needed and Jake sighs rubbing his head, his mind spinning at how this day was going.

“Jake doesn’t want to marry me.” Your voice is soft and placating, directed toward his sister, your eyes shifting to his.

“Like HELL he gets an option,”

“Samantha!,” your voice is scolding.

“No, I'll do it.” Jake sighs.

“Jake,” you sound so sad it physically hurts his chest. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Jake said, “I want to. You’re family Pip, you’ve always been there for us, it's the least I can do.”

Jake groaned and sat down next to you on the couch. “Guess I gotta go buy an engagement ring.” He sees a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“I don't need an engagement ring,” you respond, and Jake really looks at you for the first time. You have dark circles under your eyes and look wan. “You should save your money.”

“You might not need an engagement ring,” Jake's mother spoke up for the first time. “But you need some type of wedding rings if you are going to sell it.”

“Well let's go wedding ring shopping,” Sami stood up, pulling Jake to his feet.

“Are you up for it?” Jake asked softly, his eyes searching your face. You shake your head sadly.

“I’ll make sure he buys something that won’t turn you green.” Sami declares dragging Jake out the door. “Plus we have the same finger size so it will fit.”

– – –

When he returned from ring shopping with Sami you had a marriage plan neatly typed out on your old laptop. He sat alone with you in the living room planning out his fake marriage.

“OK, first I think we should have a shared bank account.” You are beside him, cord stretched across the room because the laptop couldn't hold a charge. “I have an excel spreadsheet all set up so I can keep track of how much money is mine so I won’t spend yours. We can get a prenup if you want, but that might look suspicious if we get investigated.”

“Pip, you once paid me back a quarter when I bought you a gumball.” Jake sighs, “I don't think you are going to take my money in the divorce.”

“Oh,” you give an embarrassed chuckle and quickly move on. “Another thing that I thought would sell it was to have one or two pictures of us together on social media.” you pull out your phone and Jake can see the cracks in your screen. “There are a few group photos of us with your family, but one or two of just us would make it more believable.” You scroll through the pictures on your social media of you with the Seresins during Thanksgiving and Christmas. “The pictures can have intentionally vague captions so it won’t throw off your dating life.” You grin at him wryly. “Neither of us post many pictures of other people so that helps.” Jake nods in agreement.

“Finally we should have some kind of phone contact, texts can be read so if we just called each other every day or so it would look like we are in contact.” You are wringing your hands together. “You can just put the call on mute and go about your day but it will look like we are talking.”

Jake shakes his head and rubs his forehead. You are putting way more thought into this than he is and the idea of calling you just to mute you doesn’t feel right. “I could just talk to you when I call.” You look startled at the prospect. “Unless you don’t want to talk to me?” He says it as a joke but he is slightly hurt by the idea of you not wanting to talk to him. While he has never been as close to you as Sami is, he still knew you and talked to you quite often when he was home.

“I want to talk to you!” You answer in a rush, “I just don't want this to mess up your life.” Looking at you then he can see the deep heartbreak and stress in your eyes and he thinks about how you haven't even graduated and are facing adult problems.

Jake pulls you into a one armed hug and, as with every other hug he has given you in the past, you are rigid for the first few seconds before relaxing against his side. “Don’t worry about me Pip, just promise to handle all the paperwork and give it to me with the ‘sign here’ stickers so I can’t mess it up.”

“Thank you Jake.” Your voice is sincere and you look up at his face. “I mean it, I can’t ever thank you enough.” He waves you off but you persist, “I’m serious, if you ever need a kidney, or to bury a body, or an alibi, I’m there for you.” He laughs at your declaration, happy to hear your old self coming through.

– – –

“Hey Javy, What are you doing on Tuesday at 3PM?” Jake stands awkwardly in the doorway of Javy’s room on base.

“It is the one day we have ever gotten off early, so I was going to run personal errands.” Javy frowns at Jake in suspicion. “And yet, now I feel like that will not happen.”

Jake checks up and down the hallway before lowering his voice. “I need you to witness my wedding.”

“YOUR WHAT!?” Javy shouts out and Jake shushes him and quickly tells him about you and the situation he has found himself in.

“How old is she?” Javy asks in confusion, “isn’t your sister still in highschool?”

“Yeah, Pip is too, but she is eighteen so it’s technically legal.”

Javey lets out a low whistle, shaking his head in disappointment. “That’s some serious cradle robbing man.”

“It’s not going to be that type of marriage.” Jake sighs, “and the extra pay will help me pay off the hospital bills from my Dad’s death. It’s win-win.”

Java nods. “Do I get to plan your Bachelor Party?” Jake lets out a reluctant chuckle.

“Let's save that for my real wedding.” Jake says, defeated. “Can I count on you?”

Javy holds his hand out for Jake to shake. “Always, man.”

– – –

The wedding had been a quiet affair at the local courthouse. Javy and Jake’s mother serve as witnesses, and Sami tags along. You had worn a simple white sundress that fell past your knees, hair down. He told you that you looked beautiful, because you did, and he figured every bride needs to hear that on her wedding day, even if it was a marriage of convenience.

After they had gone back to his mothers house and filled out all of the paperwork that the Navy required to get you as one of his medical dependents. Honoring his request, you had put a little red ‘sign here’ sticky tabs everywhere he was required to sign. And just like that in the eyes of the Navy and the government he was married.

– – –

“Well it’s been a year and the Doctors say I’m in remission.” Your voice is happy through the phone and Jake smiles.

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!” Jake lies back on his bed as he does every day he is stateside. It has become a daily ritual when he gets off duty. Lie on his neatly made bed and call you. “Well there goes our marriage, at least it was successful!” He says it with a laugh but a hollow ache springs inside him when he realizes that your clean bill of health means a divorce.

He knew the day that you no longer needed to be married to him would come but he couldn’t help being saddened at the prospect. He squashes his disappointment down feeling guilty. It was stupid, he knew why you married him. Hell, nothing about his life had changed other than his daily phone calls with you. And he refuses to admit to himself how much he looks forward to those phone calls.

“Yeah, it was a success,” you agree and he thinks he is imagining the regret in your voice. “The doctors say that it is unlikely to recur but if I make it four more years cancer free I’m basically good to go!”

“Well…” Jake hesitates before committing. “We might as well stay married,” he can hear a sharp inhale through the phone. “I mean unless you don’t want to, or are seeing someone,” he adds as an afterthought. “But it would be best to wait until you get the all clear, then we won't have to remarry if the worst should happen.”

You are quiet on the other side of the phone and he wonders if he has overstepped. Maybe you were ready for this charade to be over. “Yeah,” you agree softly and he feels his spirits rise, “that makes sense. Plus you can keep sending your housing allowance bonus to your Mom.”

“You know about that?” Jake is pretty sure he has never told you what he does with the extra money that comes with being married.

“Jake, we share a bank account.” He lets out a huff of laughter at how unimpressed you sound. He is not a big spender so beyond a cursory glance he rarely paid much attention to his money.

“Oh, I forgot, I’m married to a business major.” You laugh and he smiles at the sound. “So how was your day, other than the big news?” he asks, settling in for his daily conversation with you.

After hanging up he goes to get ready for his date. His marriage with you had actually worked out better than he ever expected. The daily phone calls provided him with the default person to talk about his day with. It also gave him the freedom to sleep around with whatever woman caught his fancy with no strings attached. All the benefits of a long term relationship without the guilt of cheating. It was the best of all worlds.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #topgun maverick #jake seresin

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ewesless · 2 months

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Quick little thing! No, I was wrong. It became a Very Long Thing...

We know that Diavolo is operating at an entirely different frequency and level of energy from Barbatos and Lucifer and it isn't just because he's a touch starved extrovert with repressed introverts for parental figures friends.* But he might be 18-21.... As a person from the early 90's this is a traumatic realization. I thought he was an early 30s year old manchild to be quite honest.

*love your takes so so so freaking much RadArchives 😭

Utilizes canon compliant relationship dynamics and Diavolo's Lucifer complex. Luke is aged up to cope with fanservice not facilitate it.

I interpreted it as Diavolo was between 10-13 when Barbatos agreed to be his Butler. OM indicates it was 800 years before Barbatos quit feeling angry at Diavolo for the incident (he was teasing). 10,000 is equal to 10 years, so based off my estimate Diavolo would be 18-21. Unless it was 800 plus years then, since Barbatos had time to cool off which would be much more comfortable to me 😂

The canon chronological ages are vague in order for players to have freedom (dads and mom coded old as dirt option through to bratty youngest brother who seems like an angsty and rebellious teen) so just for reference these are the ages I use:

Solomon - 34 (right there in the middle of adulthood and an older brother age bracket with Diavolo. Asmo is robbing his own cradle!)

Simeon - 40 (peers with Lucifer and they are only a few months apart! Perfect adoptive/group dad age of being mature and comforting without being old-old 😭)

Luke - 16 (Again, comfort level. He's a bratty tween, but I can't tolerate the fanservice with him as a 10 year old at all. 16 is a nice middle ground between emotionally charged, discovering self and independence, "I'm grown!" and the complex realities of the world. Him developing THOSE FRUSTRATING AND CONFUSING NEW FEEEEEEELINNNNNNGS are tolerable as well.)

Barbatos - 42 (the answer to life and everything. I'd place him closer to 60 as a foxy and wicked classy grandma older woman gentleman, but he looks like a pretty, young 30-something so this fits the bill. This also goes into my headcanon that Father made him before the angels and long before humanity.)

Diavolo - 33 (an out of touch with the youth and his peers, but still a youthful soul + gap moe)

Belphie and Beel - 25 (still young enough to do underdeveloped maturity and be doted upon baby brothers, but grown enough that they aren't actually immature and know better they just haven't put the effort into developing impulse control and practicing good judgement)

Asmodeus - 27 (pretty and passes easily for 23 but can hook up with the MILFs and DILFs as well as the young 20s. He's young, but not afraid of becoming older, not just because he's beauty everlasting and that skincare routine is ✨️flawless✨️ but because he sees the beauty and attractiveness of maturity and himself)

Satan - 23 (Personal Favorite + Occultic Number! Even though he's as old as Lucifer I feel like he was born at the age that Lucifer was created for additional headcanon reasons.)

Leviathan - 31 (*scoff* "Look at this old loser with a failure to thrive and manchild tendencies" says an old loser with a failure to thrive and the same tendencies)

Mammon - 32 (okay, this would go on for more than a paragraph or few run on sentences 🤣)

Lucifer - THE BIG 40 (caught up between older than the others brother who had to grow up too fast and never got to be young / middle aged surrogate father figure of a house full of rebellious teenaged adopted kids that never got to have his experimental young adult phase...)

Thirteen is a sensitive, trendy young woman so we DON'T ASK THESE QUESTIONS 35 I like an age gap with my ladies~ Candy is 39 (because 4 is associated with death in Japanese and I have a 4 year age gap with my sister which was a perfect combination of generational difference + ability to rebel from the older sibling, angst about idolization and knowing you aren't the same, but aren't meant to be. There's the possibility of strife caused by disappointment(s)/fallen idol for Thirteen and for Candy the pressure of the expectations of parents as first born and the care, protectiveness and responsibility of older sibling for their younger sibling. They're able to rely on each other even though Thirteen is a wild woman antisocial ambivert with a strong personality and even stronger opinions whereas Candy seems like a serious and violently antisocial introvert who conforms and does what she's expected to in all areas of life. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL US WHAT CAUSED THE SCHISM BETWEEN THEM. WHAT HAPPENED WRITERS? WHAT HAPPENED?)

Mephistopheles - 31/35 (I like the idea of him having an age gap of 2 years with Diavolo either as a more mature junior to senior or a senpai who won't notice him because his eyes are set on a raven haired beauty with eyes like firy rubies that is also a heavily overworked deskworker with difficult teen boys and an involuntarily in a fatherly role for Diavolo too.)

Raphael - 39 (One year the junior of Lucifer and Simeon. Because he never rebelled I thought it had something to do with him being a degree separated from Sime and Lucy to Father, but still being close enough to him to be the devoted, but the most conflicted about it, son.)

Michael - 40 (Either he was created before Simeon and Lucifer or after them. He's got something seriously suspicious going on. I feel that it parallels Diavolo's, but instead of a hopeful vision for the future and further developing what his father started Michael's is in a self-serving manner and his personal agenda is founded on the self-perception that he knows better than his Father.)

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me thirteen #obey me 13 #obey me mephistopheles #obey me raphael #useless writing

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s0ftl3 · 3 months

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OMG YESSSSS!! BROTHERS BSF SCHLATT AND TED 🙏🙏

YOU GET IT!!!

I feel like Schlatt fits the bill for a brother’s best friend a lot more than Ted does but I think I've got a pretty silly little idea of how I can make it work for Teddy Bo Beddy.

I like the idea of sleazy bsf Schlatt. Like he’s always hitting on you and trying to get you alone. (of course with your consent) Ted had made it abundantly clear that you were off limits to his best friend. But after a long sit down conversation with him, Schlatt had convinced him that he wasn’t just playing with your feelings and that he did really have feelings for you. (He decided to leave the part that idea of you fucking anyone other than him made him want to commit homicide out.)

I feel like Ted on the other hand is very respectful of Schlatt’s “no dating my baby sister” rule. It’s YOU that's challenging it. He’s very polite offering small compliments when appropriate but you flirt unabashedly. He keeps his hands to himself making sure not to make you uncomfortable. You wait till a movie night to share a blanket and a spot on the couch. Your hand always finds its way into his pants, making him bite his lep to hide the sounds of what you're doing to him from your brother who's only a few feet away from the two of you laser focused on the tv.

But yeah brothers bsf Schlatt who's chasing you and brothers bsf Ted who desperately wants you but is running away from you to avoid your older brother's wrath. (might write a fic for the ted one bc i haven't written subby ted in a bit.)

#jschlatt smut #ted nivison smut #chuckle sandwich smut #coles anons #anon ask #anon #cole answers

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talesfrommedinastation · 28 days

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My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'The Bad Batch': 'The Harbinger'

Yup, as we all know, Doug unlocked a HUGE character with Asajj Ventress, who is apparently an embittered ex-Navy wife lurking somewhere in the depths of the Florida Panhandle and not a reborn Jedi goth chick.

CW: You will learn more about this poor ex wife of John then you will ever deem fit. Be warned.

All images taken from here: https://www.cap-that.com/starwars/the-bad-batch/309

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Episode 9, “John’s-Ex-Wife: The Revenge”

Daddy Warcrimes does what a daddy in need of a mommy will do, and is going to pick up women by the dockside. Wonder if they take cash or not.

And here’s Julio to remind him to wrap it before he snaps it, ya know? Good bro, when has Julio done anything wrong, love him. Maybe Julio laid his pipe in Space Louisiana last week, who knows if the mantis had a sister who had bills to pay and Terrebonne Parish don’t have a lot of jobs but has a lot of lonely people and, where were we?

Why is it all foggy here now? We in Maine now?

Well, Mutant Jimmers is doing work, as the kids say now, tracking down the junkies hiding out in the caves. I can’t blame Mutant Jimmers or the junkies, they gotta do their smack and doing it in the park ain’t good. I wonder who makes the meth on the island? It ain’t Church Lady, she’s too busy working and having fun in the snow with her beau, Sassy-Park-Ranger*.

Awwww shit it’s not space junkies, it’s worse! It’s JOHN’S-EX-WIFE! Of course she’s hiding her Ford pickup in a cave, the other one got booted outside of Pensacola after she banged the neighborhood granddad and he called the cops after she stole his TV.

(the last shot John saw before he left for the rig that one time)

God damn, she’s wearing the same outfit you wear to work, Meat Muffin! Do you think she writes papers and yells at people on the phone like you do too?

Well John’s-Ex-Wife hasn’t changed, first thing she starts doing is fighting and bitching at everyone for not paying their bills on time. I hated that damn woman but I’ll say this much, she was organized. But that’s how the Devil is. Not organized to not cheat on John with every sailor in Pensacola and the neighborhood granddad but nobody’s perfect I guess.

Well, she’s going to test Little Orphan Blondie by making her do yoga on the beach while her brothers watch. Doing dumb shit in public to be different, yup, that’s John’s-Ex-Wife for you. Surprised Daddy Warcrimes hasn’t capped her and her bleached hair yet.

Oh! Now she sent Little Orphan Blondie on an errand leaving the boys behind in a dark room with her. How much do you wanna bet there’s gonna be a train and Thomas the Tank Engine ain’t involved? God, it was a miracle John never ended up with the clap. His ex wife really was the bike of Escambia County.

And there’s a fight. Woo! John’s-Ex-Wife’s history as a bartender is coming on through! Girlfriend can handle her own–and here’s the lightsaber! WOAH! I don’t want her to kick my boy’s butts but damn girl, git ‘er done!

Also why don’t they all just pile on her, why are they waiting, this ain’t ballroom dancing boys! Toaster Strudel and Rex would NEVER.

Where IS TOASTER STRUDEL AND REX?!?!?!

Well, Little Orphan Blondie’s back and seems to like John’s-Ex-Wife for some reason. God damn it, Little Orphan Blondie, you’re a rube and I ain’t happy about it. At least Church Lady got you sushi and hit on your idiot brother who didn’t deserve her.

Little Orphan Blondie’s no Jedi, whatever. But nothing brings the family together like deep sea fishing, even more then going off into the snow and punching each other in front of the trailer!

Off John’s-Ex-Wife and Little Orphan Blondie go while the dads do a lil bit of peepin. Except Daddy Warcrimes who knows a thing or two and keeps a gun tailed her. Yeah, Daddy Warcrimes!

Oh! What’s this? Ain’t this the shit from Aquaman? Are they gonna get jumped by sea aliens until Aquaman throws flashlights at them?**

Nope! It’s that thing from Pirates of the Caribbean! Where’s Johnny Depp and his dreadlocks?! They’re firing up the HMS Search Warrant to do a rescue and…woah. Woah. What’s Johns-Ex-Wife doing here? The force? She can do all that shit but she can’t keep her marriage, oh Johns-Ex-Wife.

Look at Daddy Warcrimes being a gentleman and helping the ladies onto their stolen work truck. Most ladies get upset when a creepy old man with a gun hoists them into a windowless van but not Johns-Ex-Wife. Trust me.

Johns-Ex-Wife warns them and then flings off, as she is wont to do. Why do I feel the next episode is going to be the DEA raiding Space Florida? I bet she’s a snitch for the government, calling it now!

*=Doug will never get off the Phee/Mayday train. I tried. I failed. I’m sorry, internet.

**=I THINK Doug means the Trench from the movie. The Trench Scene | Aquaman [4k, IMAX] - YouTube

For my Doug fans! @eyecandyeoz @cdblake1565 @sued134 @megmca @skellymom @yeehawgeek @amalthiaph and anyone else!

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb season three #redneck doug #doug the neighbor #doug why #doug watches star wars #star wars tv #johns ex wife

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redheadjustin · 2 years

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Hello! Can I request a criminal minds x male reader where the reader is a little younger than the rest of the team (like maybe a few years younger than Reid)? Maybe the reader gets hurt and the whole team are super protective? Thanks! :))

So, you were painfully shy when you started working. For one thing you were younger than Ried by four years. but , you are just as smart and even more hard working as Reid. But you were also given your own office, not just a desk in the bullpen. You were a profiler but you were also a media lesasion.

You were heavily distrusted at first as you were brought in by Struass. The last time this happened it was with Emily and that caused tons of issues. You kept your head down and worked hard and tried to stay out of everyone’s way.

Penelope snooped through your personal file and the second she saw your military record she softened to you. After all, you fit the “youngest child profile”.

You were the youngest of four boys. And always overshadowed by your older brothers. When you had gotten the best grades in your class? Oh there was your oldest brother joining the military. When you were the best on your soccer team? Your second oldest brother was the star quarterback. When you were made captain of your debate team? Your third brother was writing songs and sending them to record labels. So you spent most of your life compared to your brothers.

Penelope is the one to get you addicted to mugs. You also make sure to get some from your favorite movies. You make sure to give her a chocolate bar every morning so she can stay sweet.

Emily always makes sure you leave the office by ten PM or If you’re on a case, the field office or police station. She’s also the one in charge of making sure you don’t do something stupid. You confide in her a lot of the time as you feel that she’s the sister you never had. When the whole Doyle thing went down she responded the most to the threat on your life. When you thought she was dead you visited her grave every friday after work no matter how late. You ghosted her for about seven weeks after she returned. You were the most affected besides Spencer. You forgave her eventually but you never had the relationship you did before her fake death.

You met JJ just as she left the BAU. You were a bit intimidated to be taking her place but you also felt happy that you could take the burden off of JJ. Whenever you get confused or conflicted about the media, she's the one who helped you and you couldn’t have learned from a better teacher. You trusted her a bit less when Emily returned but you eventually forgave her. You quickly became Henry's second favorite uncle and you loved talking comics with him. Will thought you were a good kid. You and JJ are very close and after everytime you kill an unsub it’s her that checks on you.

Spencer and you are like twins. Despite being four years younger than the brainiac, you shared a lot of his struggles growing up. You and Spencer share a lot of your theories during cases to each other. You honestly think Spencer is smarter than Bill Gates. Every year on your birthday Spencer surprises you with an autographed item and you always try to object but he shrugs it off.

Dereck Morgan. The missing fourth older brother. You honestly think he’d fit in with your family. But, unlike your real brothers, Derek lets you shine and always gives you credit. You also love to play soccer with him. You also watch tons of sports with him.

Hotch considers you his son and you consider him your father. He’s strict with you but you can tell there’s no malice behind it. He is the one to profile you and makes it clear that while you’re the youngest you wouldn’t be swept under the rug. The fact Hotch told you this to your face told you that Hotch could be trusted. And that trust never wavered even after Emily’s fake death. You trusted him more than your real family. You’re also the one to help Jack with soccer practice and the little boy is in awe of your skill. You even gave Jack your first pair of cleats.

Ah papa Rossi. Dave is like your grandfather and you have one of the most intimate relationships with him. He teaches you how to cook and you are all the better for it. He also is the one to escort you to the morgue during cases. You’ve seen death, how could you not have been in the military? He thinks you’ve seen enough death and worries about you having PTSD so he’s there with you to help. He also gets you tons of Chicago Cubs merch.

You’re part of the BAU family and though it’s crazy it’s where you belong and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#x male! reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #headcanons #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds x male reader

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kittyball23 · 7 months

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Could you make a fanfiction of how Spruce's brothers would have reacted when they learned that his married and has 13 children, and that they were uncles, please? Also how would his brothers react when they meet his wife and kids, for the first time? How would they feel that they were uncles and have a sister-in-law they never met, were they happy for their brother, Spruce?

I sure can, here it is :D (I incorporated some parts from my previous oneshots "Meeting Spruce" and "Nieces and Nephews")

Meeting Bruce (a Trolls fanfic)

“Maybe we’re in the wrong place?” John Dory suggested. He was awkwardly trying to make his way across the sandy dunes on the beach, but kept sinking with each step he took.

“He’s gotta be here,” Branch insisted. “Where else would you find Spruce?” He remembered how much Spruce talked of wanting to move to an island one day back when they were kids. And this place - Vacay Island, where “everyday is a vacay” - fit the bill perfectly. But, he could see where JD was coming from. So far, there didn’t seem to be any Troll inhabitants. It was just very large, somewhat strange-looking creatures that they had never seen before, tall and puppet-like in their appearance.

Poppy in the meantime trotted along behind them, happily sipping on a concoction that was given to her by one of the islanders. This place was hip, even if Spruce may not be here.

But he has to be… doesn’t he?

Without thinking, she cast her eyes over to the beach where crashing waves resounded. It was stunning the way that the setting sun reflected off the water. But it was also something else that caught her eye in that instant. Her jaw fell open a little and her eyes widened, and Poppy had to stop right in her tracks.

“Um… guys?” she asked Branch and John Dory, who also paused and were looking in the direction she was. They too were surprised at what they saw.

Gliding easily through the waves upon a surfboard was a purple-haired Troll, his locks flowing in the wind as he rode like a pro, silhouetted stunningly against the sunset’s light.

Poppy did all she could not to drool. She distracted herself pulling out one of the old BroZone magazines that she’d stashed in her hair. It was of an advertisement to enter a contest to date Spruce. She held it up, and compared it to the Troll on the surfboard. She got the same tingly feeling from the picture as she did from the Troll, and gave a breathless little laugh.

“Oh yeah, I totally see it,” Poppy nodded.

Branch and John Dory hurried over to meet him as he washed ashore gracefully, shaking himself off of any excess water droplets that clung onto his blue skin.

“Yo, Spruce! Is that you?” JD said.

The purple-haired Troll blinked in surprise and gave his head a little shake. “Brandi was right,” he mumbled to himself, “I really am taking too many shots at a time.” Now he was imagining that his brother was in front of him!

But it wasn’t a dream.

“No, dude, it’s me, John Dory! Come on, you remember me, don’tcha?”

Spruce blinked at him, an unreadable expression on his face. But then he broke out into a grin. “Of course I remember you!” he shouted and then threw his arms out at him for a hug. JD hugged back, both of them exclaiming and laughing together as though they were still the two teenage boys they’d been back then.

“My gosh, bro, it’s great to see you again!” Spruce said.

“It’s great to see you, too!” John Dory said. “You don’t know how much I’ve gotta tell you, Spruce, I - “

“Ah, ah, wait a sec,” Spruce interrupted him. “Please, don’t call me that.” He put a hand over his heart and properly introduced himself. “My name is Bruce.”

“Aw, man!” Tiny Diamond angrily kicked the sand. “You’re telling me we traveled all this way and we got the wrong dude?” What a waste of time!

“No, Tiny, this is the right guy,” Branch said, walking up to his brothers.

Spruce - or Bruce, as he wanted to be called - paused. “Baby Branch?” he gasped, astonished. “Look at you! You’re all grown up!”

“Yeah, I know,” Branch said, crossing his arms.

“I can’t believe this!” Bruce exclaimed. “Who else is here?” He peeked around them, wondering if he would maybe see Clay or Floyd, but intrigued when he found a pink Troll instead. “Who’s this?” he asked.

Poppy noticed he was talking about her and she blushed, shyly coming up to him. “Hi, Spruce! Er, oh I mean, um, Bruce. I um, I…” She squealed and hugged him, unable to contain herself. “My name’s Poppy. I’m Branch’s girlfriend, and I’m SO excited to meet you!” She let go of him and hopped up and down on the sand.

“Baby bro’s got a girl? Cool! Well, it’s nice to meet you, too,” Bruce said politely.

Poppy held back another squeal and gestured her arms out. “This is such a beautiful place to live!”

Bruce nodded. “It sure is,” he agreed. “Sunset 24/7, awesome beverage service…” He pulled out a couple of readily made drinks out of his hair, offering one to Poppy and another to his brothers. John Dory took it, happily sipping the pineapple-flavored concoction, but Branch declined.

“... Oh, yeah,” Bruce added, “and not to mention the kids absolutely love the beach.”

Branch cocked his head curiously. “Kids?”

“Oh, uh-huh,” Bruce said. “Got me a whole brood, as a matter of fact.”

“Aww!” Poppy cooed. “How many?”

“Thirteen little angels!”

“SPPPFFFTTT!” John Dory spat out his drink and coughed. “Th-thirteen?” he managed to ask.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

Tiny Diamond shook his head. “Yo, that man got to work!” he mumbled at Branch, who was also looking rather surprised.

“Wow!” Poppy exclaimed. “I didn’t know there were other Trolls on this island.”

Bruce chuckled at that. “Who said anything about Trolls?” he asked.

“Whaa?” Branch was confused by what he meant, but followed his brother as Bruce waved the group over to follow him. They entered the large sandcastle that was in the middle of the island, and found a cantina within. A lazy river snaked its way throughout the lounge, and a seashell stage was at one the far end. There were several creatures lined up at the bar area, awaiting their orders. Bruce greeted everyone and strolled right up to the creature behind the counter.

“Hey, baby!” he greeted a yellow-and-orange striped creature.

She batted her lashes at him. “Brucie!” she cooed, leaning down so that she and Bruce could share a kiss.

“You’re not gonna believe who I ran into…” He extended his hand out to the Trolls, and she gained a look of shock.

“Oh!”

Bruce addressed his brothers, Tiny, and Poppy. “Guys, I want you to meet the lovely lady of my life, Brandi!” He then turned to his wife. “Brandi, meet my brothers and their friends.”

The Trolls and wife exchanged polite hellos, though both sides were quite stunned at the revelations - the Trolls at the realization that Spruce had actually hooked up with one of the puppet-like creatures on the island (not that there was anything wrong with it, of course - they were delighted that Spruce had a great big loving family!), and Brandi at the prospect of seeing other Trolls - two of which were her husband’s brothers.

“Bruce, why didn’t you tell me you have brothers?” Brandi asked suspiciously.

Bruce got a sheepish look. “I uh, I sort of told you I did,” he said, shuffling a foot on the ground.

“You said you had friends when you lived back in the Troll Village, you said nothing about brothers.”

“Wait, wait… Mommy, did Daddy just say he has brothers?!”

The new voice that piped up was kiddy in its nature, and the Trolls all regarded the newcomer with curiosity. Having been reaching into the shelf behind Brandi to grab a fresh box of cookies, this creature was also very puppet-like in appearance, though unlike the other islanders she was smaller and had Troll-like ears protruding from the side of her head. A tall stack of hair stood upon her head, styled with bangs that looked very similar to Spruce’s. That’s when the realization hit the Trolls, even before Brandi’s next words came out of her mouth.

“Yes, Brenda, that’s exactly what your father said.”

“Wow!” the child replied, the box of cookies forgotten and a new mission set on her mind. She turned to face where she came from, cupping her hands around her mouth and calling out. “Guys! Get over here quick! Daddy has brothers!”

In response, about a dozen similar-looking children frolicked into the space, all eager and wide-eyed and chatty.

Poppy giggled at how energetic the bunch was, while John Dory and Branch in particular were being poked and prodded by the kids’ felt-like hands. The brothers exchanged an astonished look. These were their nieces and nephews? One thing was for sure - becoming uncles to 13 kids sure didn’t happen everyday!

Bruce and Brandi watched with amusement as the kids had their rounds with each Troll.

Branch felt a tug at his leaf vest and heard a voice right behind him afterwards.

“Hey! Hey, Mister!”

“Uh… yeah?” he responded awkwardly.

“What’s your name?” the kid asked, blinking her wide blue eyes at him.

“Branch.”

“Branch?” she repeated, testing the word out on her tongue, and then looking back at him. “Huh. Does it mean anything?”

“It’s something you find in trees,” he said with a shrug.

The Trolling cocked her head at him. “Huh? Whaddya mean?”

“Well…” Branch began, “It’s, um, you know… that part of the tree that kinda sticks out and has leaves on it?”

“Ohhh,” the kid said, nodding her head. “You’re talking about a frond! Like those!” She pointed up to the very top of some nearby palm trees that decorated the interior of the cantina.

“Err, well, not exactly - “ Branch started to correct, but was cut off when the kid interrupted him with “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Frond!”

Branch, however, was not the only one being questioned. Poppy in the meantime was occupied with a kid of her own.

“Is that guy your baby?” the kid asked, pointing at Tiny Diamond.

Poppy giggled. “No, he’s not.”

“Ohh… I guess that makes sense,” the kid concluded. “He doesn’t really look like you… or your husband!”

Poppy was taken aback by this. “My husband?” she asked.

“Uh-huh. That guy, right over there! He is your husband, right?” Poppy followed the direction his finger was pointing, and blushed heavily when she saw that it was at Branch.

“Oh! UH… n-no!” she squeaked, and then cleared her throat. “He’s, uh, just my boyfriend!”

The kid looked confused for a second, and then shrugged. “Huh. Could’ve fooled me. My Daddy looks at my Mommy the same way that guy looks at you. And usually it’s right before they kiss!” He scrunched his nose and made a face. “YUCK!”

“Heh heh, yeah… yuck…” Poppy tittered in agreement, but not thinking it would be so horrible if Branch’s lips ever made their way onto hers.

As Poppy did her best to recover from that child’s suggestions, Tiny Diamond was handling his own pair of kiddos.

“How old are you?” one of the two kids asked him.

“One month,” Tiny proudly declared, crossing his arms.

“Really?” the other kid said. “Wait, so doesn’t that mean you’re a baby?”

Tiny was appalled to hear this. “A baby? I’m not no baby, I’m a man!”

“Hmmm,” the first kid hummed in thought. “His voice is pretty deep. Maybe he’s right! But then, why are you so small?”

“And why are you naked?” the second kid piped up.

“I have clothes on,” Tiny insisted, holding up his yellow-tinted glasses at them. “See?”

“Cool!” the first kid said, swiping them from his hands and running off with the second kid giggling after him.

Tiny gasped. “HEY! Those are mine, come back!” he yelled, running after them.

Yet another kid was having his share of time with John Dory. This kid whispered at Bruce in confusion, loud enough for JD to hear.

“Daddy, who’s the funny-looking guy?” he asked.

JD huffed. He could take Tiny calling him a random dude, but this was pushing it! “Funny-looking? What exactly makes you say that?” he asked, crossing his arms.

The kid giggled. “Who wears a snowcoat in the summer?”

Oof, got me there, John Dory realized, suddenly all too aware of how warm his jacket was making him feel with the intense humidity that Vacay Island had.

“Junior,” Bruce said warningly to the child, “That’s not the way we talk.”

John Dory smiled in relief for the reprimanding, at least until Bruce said, “It’s ‘who’s the funny-looking Troll,’” to which that smile promptly disappeared.

Bruce smirked, and then said, “And your sister was right, he’s my brother. Your uncle.”

“Wow, really?” Junior said. “But Daddy, where’s he been all this time? And why is he here now?”

“Good question,” Bruce replied, realizing that he hadn’t exactly gotten an explanation for why he’d come. “John Dory, why are you guys here?” he asked.

John Dory seemed to remember exactly why he and Branch had come seeking him in this tropical getaway in the first place and grimaced a little. “Oof, yeah, about that. See, Bruce, something’s kinda happened to our brother, Floyd…”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #spruce trolls #brandi trolls #sprandi #branch trolls #poppy trolls #john dory #tiny diamond #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes

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thebluestbluewords · 8 months

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pick a card, any card

"Pick a card," Celia Facilier demands. "Let my friends tell your future."

Mal, crammed in the backseat of the limo on Ben's other side, laughs. "Don't do it, Ben. She's just trying to scam you out of your money."

Celia's mouth drops open, theatrically scandalized at the accusation. "Moi? I would never, ever try to scam anyone, and I'm hurt you'd say such a thing."

She's so small. Her hands, on the cards she's fanning out in Ben's face, are bony. She's handling them well, but Ben remembers the feeling of cards too big and too stiff for his childhood hands to manage, and even though Celia is more comfortable with her cards than he's ever been, the strain shows in the way she tilts her hand to manage them all.

"Sure," Ben says, instead of listening to Mal. His beloved fiancee is wonderful and all, but sometimes she forget that he is, in fact, an adult who is more than capable of making his own decisions. He loves her so much, and so deeply that it scares him sometimes, but the blind spots that come from growing up on the Isle are weird, and the issues that Mal has with trusting people aren't one of her best qualities, and definitely aren't ones that Ben wants to fall victim to himself. "I'll take one reading of my future, please."

Celia laughs.

She's so young.

"Tell me what you want to know," the kid in front of him says, reshuffling her cards quicker than the naked eye can follow. "Love advice? Money? Fame and fortune? What's your poison, King of Auradon?"

"No poison. The drought of love should be sweet." Ben says firmly. "I want to hear about my future love life."

"Ah." The cards fan out again, and Celia giggles. She sounds like Freddie when she does it, which is weirdly sweet. Not many of the Isle kids will admit to having family, so it's sort of nice when sisters or brothers do something, and they reveal that they're not so different after all. "Sweet it might be, but love can go sour at any moment. Pull one card."

Ben smiles. "Any card?"

"Not that one!" Celia squawks, wobbling the cards like she's going to jerk her hand back. "Just kidding. You can pull any card you want, but you have to feel it. Let my friends guide you."

Ben stops. "Feel the cards," he repeats. "Okay. I feel….” He lets his hand hang still for a moment. The cards are worn, or possibly painted to look worn. They look stiff and solid, not like they’re soft and crumbling on the edges despite their worn backs. They don’t feel like much of anything to him, but he’s always been empty of magic. It’s the one thing that his father has always been proud of.

Magic feeling and the lack thereof thoroughly investigated, Ben wiggles his fingers. One of the cards on the left is sticking out of alignment a bit, so he moves toward that one, and then rests his finger on the card before it. Any changes always have a root cause, so it feels right to pick the card before the odd one out. “This one?”

Celia lets him pull the card.

The rest of her deck snaps back together like a fan, and Celia’s hand shoots out, palm up. “Now hand it over. And also, that'll be five dollars, no refunds or exchanges if you don't like my advice after."

"A wise business practice," Ben agrees, shifting so he can pull out his wallet. Five dollars might be a scam on the isle, but it won't get her far in Auradon, and for showmanship and card control alone, she deserves at least double that. "Here you are."

Celia takes the fifty-dollar note between two fingers, and there's a half-second of hesitation where Ben can see her eyes flickering over the number on the folded bill. They're supposed to be taking her off the isle because of her potential for goodness. Scamming the king out of fifty dollars isn't a very good thing to do, but Ben is remembering right, the isle kids are too proud to ask for money when they need it. And she will need it, because coming over with nothing but the clothes and personal items she can fit in her suitcase isn’t going to be enough. Giving money to the isle kids outright is awkward, and Ben still has a scar on his shoulder from where Mal pulled a knife on him after he tried to buy her a car, but making Celia feel like she’s cheating him for it might be too much of a risk in this case, with her so brand new and unsure of how to fit it.

So.

"I don't carry anything less than fifty," Ben lies, smiling. "You can give me another reading later, if you're up for it. Call it fair?"

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #ben florian #celia facilier #mal is here but she’s not actually important in this #this is bonding time for ben and celia ONLY #this isn’t directly in the same universe as my other terrible babyfic but it’s partly the set up for that #the start of ben (and evie and jay) falling in love with the younger isle kids they’re bringing over #and thinking that MAYBE POSSIBLY they could have something like that. Someday. Maybe.

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moments-on-film · 7 months

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Moments on Film: Carmy and Inappropriate Affect

Among Carmen’s many physical and psychological issues due to his undiagnosed PTSD from various sources and depression, he also displays inappropriate affect, a psychological term which I will describe below. Carmy has exhibited behavior that suggests inappropriate affect from the first episode in season 1, to the last episode in season 2.

The first time I noticed this, it was in the scene where Richie comes to Carmy’s aid in 1x1. Richie comes outside and essentially rescues Carmy from being beaten up by the Ballbreaker players waiting to come inside for the tournament. Richie is funny in the scene—to us as audience members—but it’s not intentional and Richie is actually very serious and pissed, exhibited by the fact that he lays into Carmy in the next scene. Yet in the scene outside, Carmy smiles and is about to laugh. Why? Perhaps he finds Richie funny, or the situation ridiculous, but from what we have seen of his personality profile so far, Carmy is a very serious person so this behavior feels very sudden and odd. Richie literally just shot off a gun. It is not an appropriate response to the situation.

According to Better Health, inappropriate affect is defined as:

“a condition where one's emotional actions or displays do not logically relate to a situation or stimuli. Common examples of inappropriate affect include smiling at the news of a tragedy or remaining unemotional during a very emotional situation.

When mental health professionals are looking for insight into what may be causing one to manifest inappropriate affect, they’ll often look for past trauma or other psychological concerns. Inappropriate affect is usually a sign of a deeper psychological or physical health concerns such as PTSD, depression, or some form of brain damage.

The following are some major signs of inappropriate affect: expressing emotions that do not fit reality; abnormal emotional responses; depression, irritability, or outbursts of anger without an obvious cause; manic episodes.”

In this post, I’m not going to get into Carmy’s other signs of inappropriate affect, such as depression, irritability, outbursts of anger without an obvious cause or manic episodes, which he certainly suffers from, perhaps I will in a different post. Here, I’m going to focus on several examples of Carmy’s abnormal emotional responses.

Above is another example of Carmy laughing in a serious situation. The delivery guy comes to deliver a 200 pound order in 1x8 and Carmy discovers that it’s pork and not beef. Pork is useless to Carmy. The name of his restaurant is literally “The Beef” and he needs it to survive. The stakes are very high for Carmy to have a successful, profitable run of service every time he opens the doors. He’s trying to save the one thing his brother left him, he owes his Uncle Jimmy $300,000 and promised he’d pay him back, his sister Natalie could lose her house if the restaurant fails, Sydney’s well being really matters to Carmy and she’s now under his protection and care as her boss, and the entire staff at The Beef relies on their jobs to live and pay their bills.

I don’t think Carmy takes any of this lightly. He understands the stakes. As he told Sydney in 1x5, “we lose one service it could kill us.” Granted, the delivery guy (shoutout to the actor portraying the delivery guy) is so deadpan in his “delivery”, that it almost is funny, but given the high stakes, Carmy’s reaction is abnormal here and will continue to be abnormal in the following scene in the walk-in when he realizes how behind he is on prep and that the restaurant is not prepared to open. This sets off a chain of disturbing dissociative behavior that almost results in him burning himself up, and the restaurant down.

Gif credit: The very kind @tvfantic87

Another example of possible inappropriate affect is in the moment when Carmy is reading Michael’s final words to him in the season 1 finale. There was so much buildup to this moment and so much emotion tied to the fact that we learn that Michael told Carmy that he loves him, and uses the words that Carmy has been playing in his head to comfort himself all season, “let it rip.” In this moment I was truly waiting for Carmy to break down and cry, to have the desperately needed release of a catharsis, but he never does. He gets emotional for a brief moment and then, as if on a dime, his face twists into a grimace and he laughs. I attribute his laugh and “what?!” to Carmy reading the part of the recipe “the smaller cans taste better”, in reference to the small cans of tomatoes, which has puzzled Carmy all season, and also the fact that he’s so happy and relieved that his brother didn’t forget about him. His reaction could also be an inappropriate response to the situation due to his inability to process his feelings because of his suppressed emotions and trauma about his brother’s death.

To me, the most glaring display of inappropriate affect comes in 2x10. Carmy is trapped in the walk-in during the opening night of his restaurant. He has no idea how the night has gone. For all he knows, his beloved Sydney and Richie are at each other’s throats, his mom is terrorising his pregnant sister, his evil former boss from New York has sent food back to Sydney and could be verbally abusing her, he’s not there to protect her, the restaurant is tanking and all hope is lost. Carmy sits down and looks up. He sees the messily ripped tape, radicchio is spelled wrong, and all at once it becomes clear to him that he has let everyone down by not being there to help his staff and lead his team. This scene is what is called a “private moment” in acting. He’s supposed to be alone, no one is around. It’s extremely private. No one can get in and he can’t get out. You would think he would use this moment of solitude to break down and cry, but again, he never does, and I found it very odd. Instead, he smiles and almost bursts into laughter. Why does he do this? I believe seeing the tape being messy and ripped, and not neatly cut with scissors like he has tried to train staff to do, is why. We know this is his pet peeve. It’s almost like it’s so awful all he can do is laugh, but in this moment it feels very, very off—because it is. It’s another example of his manifestation of not having the right affect. Even listening to Claire’s voicemail, on top of having that viscious fight with Richie should have broken him down, but it didn’t. He put his head in his hands. He still has not cried. This is particularly odd because in 1x2, Carmy tells his sister “I-I know tons of people that cry out of nowhere”, but we never see him have this response, ever. Honestly, the first time I saw the scene below, during the slow push in on his face I thought, he’s about to break character. That’s honestly what it looks like to me—a bad take that should have been reshot because the actor was not in the moment. And yet—-Jeremy Allen White is an incredibly skilled and focused actor, (as I wrote about HERE), which leads me to believe this choice must have been intentional to convey inappropriate affect caused by trauma.

Carmy needs professional help and therapy and he needs it badly. He has got to do something to help himself have a desperately needed breakthrough and come to terms with his past trauma and demons for the sake of his mental health. Al-Anon is a good step but it’s not enough. It’s a monologue, he needs one on one help and a dialogue. In Al-Anon, he only speaks to what he wants to share. In therapy, he would be asked questions and given exercises that would help him unravel his tangled mind. His panic attacks, nightmares and outbursts are a threat to his health. He must change his environment and get help. No one else can do it for him, and just like many of his inappropriate affect reactions to some of his more desperate moments, it truly is no laughing matter.

©️moments-on-film 2023

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear season 1 #the bear season 2 #mental health #my thoughts

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 9 days

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Tea for Two

Amelia Shepherd x g!nreader* Warnings: some explicit language, just hella fluff, seriously so much fluff, mentions of hospitalization (duh) Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: You go to Grey-Sloan Memorial once a week to hang out with the kids on the pediatrics floor, but more and more you find yourself going there for one particular doctor: Amelia Shepherd. But can you work up the courage to make a move? And if you can, will she reciprocate?

*Reader & Gender. Gender is a slippery, tricky thing. I feel like I kind of straddle the line between being a girl and being nonbinary, so my x reader perspectives will shift depending on which I'm feeling more that day. But please feel free to insert whatever pronouns/gender identity fit you best! I try to keep descriptions of the reader to a minimum so you can see yourself in them regardless. <3

You checked in at the front desk of Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital and pressed your guest-pass name tag onto your shirt. You had your instrument case on your back, and several familiar nurses waved at you as you made your way to the elevator and up to the pediatrics floor. You were there for your weekly music hour with the kids. It had started last summer, when your brother had open heart surgery and spent a month of the pediatrics floor. You'd often brought your instrument to play and sing his favorite songs for him and, more often than not, other kids on the floor would crowd his room and request songs and sing with you.

By the time your brother had gone home with a clean bill of health, you'd gotten attached to the kids, to the nurses who wheeled patients into the rooms you played in. You went home with song requests and learned how to play Encanto and the Bluey theme song and Simon & Garfunkel for them. It had quickly become one of your favorite parts of the week.

And not just because of the kids. Of course, there were always doctors around, but most of the time there was one particular doctor around, and you both loved and hated it.

"Dr. Shepherd," she'd told you, on the third or fourth post-concert elevator ride which, for whatever reason, you almost always ended up on together. "Or, well, Amelia. I'm not your doctor."

"Y/N," you'd replied, shaking her hand like an idiot businessman. God, she was pretty. You hoped you didn't look as flustered as you were.

"Are you on Spotify?" she asked.

You laughed loudly, eyes crinkling shut. "No! No, it's just for fun."

"Well, you're really good at it," Amelia finished, as the elevator opened on the floor before yours.

"Thanks," you said, trying your very hardest to make eye contact.

"See you next week?"

"Yep," you nodded.

"Cool." She gave you a double thumbs-up and walked out the elevator doors.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, turning back to hold the door open. She pointed at you. "Pronouns? Mine are she/her."

A bright smile flashed across your face. "They/them. Thanks for asking."

"You got it." Another thumbs up, and she was gone. You sighed. Pretty and asked about your pronouns? It was gonna be really hard to convince yourself you didn't like her now.

Amelia was there next week. And the next. And the next. Always in the back. Always in the elevator with you afterward. And you just talked. Never for more than a few minutes. But those few minutes added up after a while. You learned that she was Chief of Neurosurgery. That she'd grown up in New York. That she lived with her sisters and her nieces and nephew. That she loved boba tea and cats.

One day, in a moment of reckless confidence, you stopped at Seattle Best Tea on your way to Grey-Sloan and picked up two boba teas, one for you and one for Amelia. As soon as you stepped through the doors of the hospital, you knew it was a mistake. Fuck, you thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Friends don't bring boba tea. Especially elevator friends.

But then, of course, you had to give it to her. Because otherwise it'd look like you brought two bobas for yourself, and that was even weirder.

She was already in her corner of the pediatrics lobby when you walked in. Trying to act casual, you approached her and held on the tea.

"Hey," you said. "Do you, uh... do you want this?"

She looked at you, surprised, and took the cup. "You brought me boba?"

"No." You shook your head and shrugged. "I had an... extra?" It was a stupid excuse. You knew it the moment it left your mouth.

A smile crept at the corner of Amelia's lips, and she raised her eyebrows at you. "You had an extra milk tea?"

"No," you admitted, flushing slightly and running a hand self-consciously through your hair. "It's for you." You felt like you were digging your own grave.

"Well, gotta get up there," you said quickly. You avoided her eyes and headed quickly toward the little stool they'd set up for you at the front of the room.

You'd never been so distracted during a set, especially with the Grey-Sloan kids, who usually took up all your attention. At first you tried very hard to not look anywhere near Amelia, but then you thought that might be more suspicious, so you just tried to look in her general direction.

As you packed up your instrument, your heart pounded. You knew, you just knew, she was going to be on that elevator and that she knew. Your damn little boba gesture had almost certainly given you away. And she was going to say, Sorry, I'm not into women. Or kind-of-women-kind-of-not, which is where you usually landed. Even worse, she might say, Sorry, I'm not into you. Or the very worst of all, she wouldn't even be in the elevator, and your time at Grey-Sloan would be unbearably awkward from here on out.

Your heart sank as you got onto the elevator and Amelia was nowhere to be seen. You puffed out your cheeks and exhaled. You'd fucked up. You were glad the elevator was empty this time because you were sure the disappointment showed on. your face. You were not good at hiding your emotions, and you'd prefer to be left alone with this one.

The doors had almost creaked shut when a hand shot out to stop them. An out-of-breath Amelia stepped in, smiling, and leaned against the wall.

"Wow," she breathed. "Almost missed you."

You shuffled your feet and tried to act normal, even though your heart was in your throat.

"Thanks for the tea," she said, nudging your shoulder.

"Yeah!" you replied, probably a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, no prob."

"So... do you buy boba for all the girls or just me?"

You felt blood rush to your cheeks. "Uh..."

"Because I really hope it's just me."

You glanced at her in surprise and found her grinning at you, a little embarrassed, a little self-satisfied.

"Really?" you asked, not quite believing what you'd heard.

The elevator door opened on Amelia's floor, and she slipped a business card into your hand, her fingers lightly grazing yours. It felt like a bolt of electricity shooting through you.

"Call me and you can buy me dinner, too," she said, before stepping off the elevator, giving you a little salute as the door closed.

You looked at the card in your hand. On the front: all the usual business information. Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital. Amelia Shepherd, M.D. Chief of Neurosurgery. On the the back: a phone number, scrawled in messy doctor's hand, with a little heart beside it.

Your heart swelled and you couldn't help but smile, bouncing on the balls of your feet. It worked! The boba worked! Seattle Best Tea didn't know it yet, but they'd just made you a regular for life.

#amelia shepherd #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepherd x fem!reader #amelia shepherd x gn!reader #amelia shepherd fluff #amelia shepherd drabble #amelia shepherd fanfic #grey's anatomy

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avatar-anna · 1 year

Note

Hi! I don’t know if you take requests or suggestions so I’m very sorry if this is crossing a line, but I wanted to say that I’d love to read about how Harry told his friends and family about professor. Especially after I read that one about Harry working on Matilda and Mitch not knowing what’s going on with him. Again, I’m sorry if this is crossing a line 🥹

no lines crossed at all!

I think in the aftermath of Professor and Harry falling out, his friends and family could tell something was wrong, but he wouldn’t open up to anyone.

AND THEN when a year later he’s suddenly much happier seemingly over night, everyone’s truly baffled. They notice he’s on his phone a lot and he’s suddenly taking trips to New York, and maybe Jeff catches a heart next to a contact name, but he thinks nothing of it because when could he have possibly met a professor?

There’s probably a group chat that Harry isn’t a part of where they all theorize what or who has him in such high spirits again, but they come up empty.

It isn’t until Harry’s tour in the UK starts that he finally introduces Professor to everyone. It’s the night before the Manchester show, and everyone is at Anne’s house, and Harry’s running late (because he just has to show her all the places he spent growing up), so everyone is already gathered together when the two of them walk in hand and hand. Harry is all smiley as he leads her into the house and introduces her to each person there. “This is Dr. Y/n Y/l/n, my girlfriend.”

And of course Professor is nervous and shy and worries about saying the wrong thing, but when Harry keeps calling her “doctor” she nudges his arm and tells him he doesn’t need to call her that.

“Would you let me show off, please?” is all he has to say to that.

And the whole house is quiet in absolute shock. They all knew that Harry was more than likely seeing someone, but they didn’t quite expect Professor. His friends and family know his dating history, and she doesn’t exactly fit the bill. None of them dislike her, they’re just surprised he’s holding hands with someone like her.

Gemma is the first to speak, seeing that his brother’s girlfriend is fully aware that no one is saying anything, and she can see Professor tense with each passing minute. So she just loops her arm through Professor’s and asks, “So are you a medical doctor?” And when Professor explains that she’s a professor at Columbia (she hasn’t moved back to Cambridge yet), Gemma says, “And you’re with him?”

Harry frowns, but he’s immensely grateful on the inside because his sister was easing the tense set between Professor’s shoulders.

Professor, of course, sometimes has a hard time detecting sarcasm, so she takes Gemma’s question seriously and says something like, “Yes. He’s very kind,” and to Anne she says, “You raised a remarkable person.”

The atmosphere shifts a little after that, and everyone wants to get to know the person who stole H’s heart. Harry’s there the whole time so Professor doesn’t feel ambushed, but she never does and is just as eager to get to know his family.

There are moments throughout the night where everyone is kind of just stunned by Professor. Like at one point there’s a conversation happening and someone jokes, “It’s not rocket science!” And Professor super casually just says, “You know, I’ve studied aerospace engineering and astrodynamics, and I found other fields of science much more difficult, but I suppose rocket science sounds more challenging than physics.”

Harry chuckles because he understands her humor at this point, and he finds it cute that of course rocket science comes easy to her, but the room is once again consumed by silence until someone asks, “What, exactly, do you have a doctorate in?”

She rattles off her degrees and a little about her background, but not too much because she doesn’t like diving into how she’d been practically forced to learn a lot of the stuff she knows early on.

Once again, everyone is kind of confused as to how Professor and Harry met, and possibly even what they talk about when they’re alone together. They’re so different from each other, how on earth do they work?

But Anne can see it, because a mother always knows. She notices how Professor’s hand is constantly reaching for Harry’s, or how she catches Professor gazing at Harry and blushing before looking away again. Professor is absolutely smitten, and one look at her son tells Anne that he feels the exact same.

Funnily enough, I think Professor gravitates the most toward Mitch. Professor loves to learn, and while Mitch doesn’t appear like the academic type, he’s very talented in his field, and she loves to pick people’s brains about what they’re passionate about. And she’s drawn to his quieter disposition (and possibly the fact that they’re the two Americans in a group of British people), and she probably sits and talks to him the most outside of Anne.

Professor knows she could probably deduce every detail about these people’s lives with a few glances, but she tries not to, wanting to get to know them organically, though when she mentions her field of teaching to someone, everyone is immediately like, “Like that show! Can you tell what color socks I’m wearing or some shit like that?”

Harry wants to put an end to that before it begins because he knows Professor doesn’t like feeling like a circus act or source of entertainment, but she just smiles behind her glass of wine and says, “Maybe.”

In Harry’s opinion, the night couldn’t have gone better, and as he and Professor are leaving his mother’s house, everyone tells him how much they like her and how happy they are for him. He can’t contain his grin because while he knew how incredible Professor, he’s over the moon that other people see it too. I think more than anything, Harry wants to show Professor that there are good people out there who don’t see her as a freak or only see value in her intelligence. He wants so badly for his family to become hers, if only because she deserves to be loved by more than just him. She deserves a family.

And she doesn’t tell him, but Professor thinks she found one in his.

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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figureofdismay · 19 days

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i rag on CC and his 'platonic brother sister samantha coded' approach to MSR, and yet! Scully is so Little Sister Coded about Mulder and her relationship with him Specifically and it is extremely important to both her character and their dynamic. It's very very important that she was the middle kid and the youngest girl and the target of teasing and bossing from Billy and Miss, and she wanted so badly to be included with Billy and Charlie instead of always being the nerdy tomboy tag-along that she couldn't help being because even though she's stubborn and hearty and clever and pragmatic, she's so tenderhearted deep down, full of empathy and outrage at injustice, and also eternally precise,which was always going to leave her on the outside of any rambunctious cool boy or cool girl group.

It's not mentioned anywhere in canon but i always assumed that Bill Jr. and Melissa were closest in age and closer to each other than to the younger two growing up, because 3 and 4 years is a noticeable gap at formative ages. Dana never quite fit in with the older two, the more socially successful and outgoing and assertive Scullys, you get the sense that she was trying to keep up with them while also trying to rebel against them, nerdy little conscience to assertive, successful Billy and naive, half-unwilling protege to popular, mysterious Melissa, and ending up on a drastically different path than both of them in the end. And then there's the mysterious Charlie, who she isn't close enough to, despite him being her little sibling and Dana being a natural protector and caretaker, to show up in her life through the duration of the narrative. The four kids would have mainly had each other growing up on the move, but even then she didn't fully fit in.

Interestingly, the age gap between Mulder and Samantha is probably nearly the same as Dana and Billy. So there are some parallels there, familiar sensations, except with Mulder, she's included in the special club of two instead of being on the outside. And Mulder has traded the naturally contentious relationship he had with Samantha as a kid for a fairy-tale reenactment of a new tag along partnership that includes some friction but none of the festering resentment between siblings in a deeply unhappy house. He ditches her from time to time in the name of 'protection' but in the day to day, he doesn't leave her trotting along trying to keep up and made to feel like her viewpoint is silly and annoying. Despite her independence, she even lets Mulder be protective of her -- far more than anyone else in her life -- like an ideal little sister figure, because that's mutual with Mulder too, and part of an idealized dynamic that she was close to but never part of growing up, as either the younger or the older part.

Scully always to go along with her figure of adventure, never wants to be left behind to catch up or be left out, doesn't want to be seen as too little or not game enough or annoying. And except for certain Syndicate related circumstances, Mulder doesn't just put up with this, he delights in it, always having his partner and playmate who wants to go along for the ride -- even when they're supremely fed up with each other.

Of course they aren't actually siblings, they're unrelated adults with undeniable chemistry and the lines quickly blur even further. But It's a bickering, codependent, pseudo familial, pseudo connubial melange of a dynamic, and it is actually easy to see how Scully could end up making assumptions about her and Mulder's relationship as being best-friendly-fraternal or as them filling particular vacant roles in each other's lives in a way that's convenient but not significant. Because those pseudo familial roles are actually part of their dynamic, even when it also involves romantic entanglement.

#dana scully #character theory: scully #msr #fic: nothing to pack #txf #txf meta

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fireflowersandblood · 8 months

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Letters From Home - Chapter One

Pairing: Tom Bennet x f!reader

WC: ~2600 words

TWs/Warnings: Strong language, adult themes

Summary: The first letter from Tom Bennet arrives, and you desperately try to compose a reply.

masterlist │ preview │ chapter one

The days pass just like they did before the war, and you spend most of them like most women do these days: you wake up, you knit on the bus, you work, you knit on the bus home, you have supper, you knit, and you go to bed. Sunday mornings are for knitting in church, and Tuesday evenings are for knitting at the library, but little else changes.

It’s on one of those Tuesday evenings that you find the letter. When you’ve unlocked the door and stepped inside, you find the usual pile of letters by the door and lean down to pick them up. There’s one from your mother, two bills, and… one you don’t recognize. The written words are messy and you hurry inside, throwing your handbag and the rest of the post on the table.

Surely, there is only one reason a stranger and your mother would write at the same time. You don’t bother looking for your letter opener, only rip one side of the envelope open and tug out the paper within. You can hardly breathe, when you flip the sheer paper over and read it.

Good day, ma’am

I hope this letter finds you well. You did say I could write, so here I am. My name’s Tom, and if the date on your letter is correct, I’m twenty three this month. Been fighting since ´39 and your package was the first I ever received. Got a letter from my sister once, but she only told me to bugger off already. That was in training.

Your tense shoulders drop somewhat. If it’s not about your brother being killed or hurt… At first, you’re certain the letter must’ve been sent wrong, but when you have another look, the envelope says both your name and your address. Then, when you continue to read, it finally clicks.

The pullover fits perfectly and the socks have come to good use. Both pairs. Haven’t used the hat much yet, but it muffles the sound of my bunkmates snoring. Think you’ve earned your George Cross.

Swear the lollies you sent are from the same store my mother frequented when I was a child. Been hard to keep them to myself, though. Men are greedy bastards, aren’t they?

I can’t tell you much about what we do or where we are. Captain’s orders. I can, however, ask you how you are. We get news from home ever so often, and we heard about the recent bombings. I hope you’re alright. I’d miss your knitting if you’re not.

I swear I’m not only writing to thank you for the socks, I also write because I fully expect another pair.

Cheers,

Tom

P.S. I’m joking about the socks. I do want to thank you, but I don’t actually expect another pair. Had to add this bit, my superior thought I was being too harsh on you.

You stare at the page. The handwriting is messy and there’s holes where the pen has pierced it, but it’s here and that’s somehow enough. A warm feeling settles inside your chest, and for a moment you think of nothing but this Tom that is half a world away, fighting a war, and has still found time to write to you.

You find that you have a million questions. You want to ask if the socks fit, and if the George Cross really is what you think it is, and if he likes the perfume, and if he likes the candy. You want to ask him if his rations involve any decent chocolate or cigarettes, because all the good ones are impossible to get a hold of here, at home.

Even though there’s a million things you should be doing, you leave the rest of the post and your handbag on the kitchen table to look for some nice paper. For a moment, you consider using a sheer, pink one you found in a bookstore before the war, but think better of it. Surely, the thin paper will only be damaged and perhaps even unreadable. You settle for the same thick, white paper you used last time. Armed with paper and your favorite pen, you sit down to write.

The morning comes too quickly. Your body aches after a hard day’s work and no sleep, yet the paper in front of you lies empty. You have tried all night, and you’ve even balled up two letters and thrown them on the floor. In the back of your head, you hear your mother lecture you for it, but you justify it by telling yourself they’re toys for the stray cat that you feed.

Everything needs to be rationed. Stop trying to make it work. Just write.

It’s easier said than done. You have no idea what to tell the bloke or how to cheer him up. According to his letter, you’re both fairly close in age, which means it should be easier, but it’s not. All you can think of is the way your father’s face changes when there’s a loud sound or on especially cold and dark evenings.

Some part of you doesn't want to write back. If you do, there’s just another person for you to worry about. You had been certain there would be no response, and now that it’s here, you wish you had never asked for one. Tom Bennett is a person to care for, one that you cannot fit into your already busy schedule.

At the same time, you don’t have the heart not to. You would hate to leave him waiting, wanting, needing a distraction from home that'll never come. If only you had realized how much of a responsibility it would feel like when you sent that first letter…

Before you can continue, you hear the distant alarm clock from your bedroom. You rise on legs that throb with a dull pain and decide to leave the letter for tonight. It’ll occupy your mind for the rest of the day, no matter what, and you have to get ready for work.

Once you’re dressed and ready to leave, you have one last look at the empty paper and suddenly remember the letter from your mother. You grab it, together with your usual knitting, and head for the bus.

Doris, one of your friends from school, waits for you at the bus station. She smiles when she sees you, waves with one hand and tugs you into an embrace the second you come close enough. A small chuckle leaves you, and you hug her back.

“You look terrible”, Doris says, and as soon as she pulls back, she sticks her thumb in her mouth, sucks for a moment, then leans in to furiously scrub at the day-old makeup on your face. Desperately, you try to duck away from her, but she’s quicker. Before she can even think to pull at your hair, the bus has stopped next to you.

Both of you hop on, pay for your tickets and sit in the far back. She looks through her handbag, mutters something about how she can never find anything, and pulls out her makeup bag. She clicks her makeup mirror open and hands it to you.

“I couldn’t sleep”, you confess. “I…”

Doris interrupts.

“Is it your brother?”

You have to bite back a laugh.

“No”, you reply. “Are you still sweet on him?”

Doris has the decency to look puzzled at the question, and immediately turns away. She doesn’t have to reply for you to know the answer, but you don’t press further. You find it rather sweet, in truth, but you don’t say that, either. You and Doris have known each other since you were both in nappies, and Doris has had a thing for your brother since the two of you were old enough to know what that meant.

By the time you’ve touched up your makeup and saved your hair from complete disaster, Doris has picked up her own knitting. Her handbag stands between the two of you and you easily slide the makeup bag and mirror back.

The ward is near empty, and for once you can work in relative peace. The radio is on, but you can’t make out any of the mumblings from the other side of the room. It’s better that way, you reckon, because you don’t have to hear the most recent news from whatever battlefield the reporters have had a misfortune to hear from today. You think it cruel, to leave the radio on when the wounded men in the beds have just barely escaped that hell with their lives, but have gotten one too many slaps on the wrist by the doctor to say anything.

Doris and two of the other nurses have taken most of the men to the courtyard. You’d like to imagine that the doctor has joined them, to keep an eye on the progress of the wounded soldiers learning to walk or talk anew, but you’re almost certain he has locked himself in the office to read or listen to his own radio. That, too, makes your blood boil, but you can’t do without a job.

Sure, there’s always the factories… but you’re almost entirely certain the men will want their jobs back when they return and have recovered, and you’ll need a job just as bad when the war is over as you do now.

By the time you have changed half the beds in the ward, one of the two soldiers that has been left inside calls for you.

“Nurse”, he calls, not unkindly, and even lets you finish the bed you’re working on. You only leave him waiting for a few minutes before you come closer.

It’s a horrid sight. The man can’t be much older than you are, but he looks older. The dark bags under his eyes, the sharp lines and cuts of his face, the worn look he always wears, his glassy eyes… You’re suddenly thankful for the thick gauze that is wrapped around both of his hands, which had been little but mangled pieces of flesh when he was first brought to the hospital.

“Albert”, you greet, with what you hope is soft confidence. “I thought Doris took you outside.”

He laughs, and you’re thankful for it. It’s a rare sound here, and it does perk you up somewhat.

“I don’t think Doris likes me much”, he says, but even this is kind. His smile is tight, but you can’t tell if it’s because of the pain he must be in or because he knows that even Doris thinks he looks scary. “I hope you don’t feel the same. Would you sit with me for a moment?”

“I could never dislike you, Albert”, you promise, and carefully sit on the edge of his bed. He scoots over as much as he can and one arm extends to the nightstand. Someone has left him paper and a pen, and you immediately reach for it.

“For my mother”, he explains, and you’re sure he’s about to explain that he can’t write, even though you already know that much. You had, after all, seen both what was left of his hands and the mess of his body when he was brought in.

So much for trying to escape the war for a week, you think, and shudder at the thought of how home isn’t even safe anymore.

“Let’s write”, you interrupt him, as kindly as possible, and settle the paper against the nightstand to be able to write. “For your mother?”

Albert nods.

“Yes. Tell her that I was hurt in London, during my leave. She will know what it means, I am sure. Granny is well, I was in a pub when it happened.”

He trails off and lets you write, and the silence is only interrupted by the awful blaring of the radio. You wonder what kind of cheap crap it must be, then feel awful for even thinking such a thing. Perhaps, just this once, it is not a fault of the doctor, but of the war.

“Despite it all, I am well. The doctor is a bit of a bellend, but the nurses are lovely, and the prosthetics have improved greatly since father lost his leg in the first war.”

You have to bite your bottom lip not to laugh, but you think Albert notices the smile on your lips regardless. His voice doesn’t sound quite as grave when he continues.

“With any luck, I’ll be back home soon. I don’t think I’ll be much help to the war effort with only two fingers, but someone has to be the Tin Man for spring break. I don’t see why that couldn’t be me.”

This time a small laugh escapes before you can even try to suppress it. Albert seems almost as pleased by that as you were with his laugh earlier.

“One of the nicer nurses is writing for me”, he says, and you quickly scribble it down. “It’s the reason it doesn’t look right. I hope you’re well, mom. I miss you, and I miss Leslie. I’ve attached two pounds, I hope it’s enough to treat her to some chocolate. Most love, your Betty.”

You sign the letter in silence. Another moment of silence follows, and you wonder if you should write something else. Perhaps you could add a small paragraph, with the medical details, and the progress he has already made. You realize how ridiculous it is when Albert grabs for the envelope and somehow manages to get a hold of it, despite the thick gauze.

He tells you the address and you write it as neatly as you can.

“Would you perhaps post it for me?” he asks, and for the first time today you hear some sort of doubt in his voice. He hesitates, and continues in a much quieter voice. “I don’t trust the receptionist not to take the money in the envelope.”

The shock must be evident on your face, because he immediately leans closer to the nightstand to open the drawer. He struggles, grimaces, then manages to open it enough for you to see the wallet within.

“I’ll pay you for it.”

You quickly shake your head.

“You don’t have to pay me”, you hurry to say, but you reach out for the wallet and take it. It feels wrong to open it, but you do and pull out the two pounds he had told his mother of, before you fold it over once and tuck it away in the envelope. Then, you close it. “I’ll do it. I have a letter of my own to post, anyway.”

Your little break from changing the sheets have reminded you of both the letter from your mother, and the letter from the Tom that had gotten your knitted garments. You leave the envelope on the nightstand for now.

“I’ll be back for it before the day is over”, you promise, and very gently squeeze one of Albert’s upper arms. “Now, I, unfortunately, have to keep working.”

Albert laughs again, when you stand and help him to settle in the middle of the bed again. Before you leave, you help him drink some water from the glass that stands by the envelope. Just as you turn around, you’re reminded of something.

“Actually, Albert”, you say, and turn back around to have a look at him. “What did you want to hear from home? When you were fighting?”

Albert’s lips tug up in a rare grin that reaches his eyes, and he pats the edge of the bed where you had just been sitting.

#letters from home #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #world on fire bbc #wof bbc

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so-long-soldier-writes · 2 months

Text

absolutely random kol mikaelson headcanons

huge maneskin fan

has an anxious habit of biting his nails that bex often scolds him for doing

heavily reliant on autocorrect whenever he texts

he can spell just fine, but is still getting used to the small keyboard

a lot of the time, he pushes 'enter' instead of the send button, expecting it to send, but it just makes a new paragraph and his texts are never actually sent

it pisses his siblings off big time

canonically spends time in records shops to flirt with girls, but secretly has a record player and owns many albums

100% pulls harmless pranks on his siblings, and 50% of the time, they never realize it was him

but one time, he meant to scare bex by hiding behind a door, and accidentally scared elijah, and the man had a fit of rage at his youngest brother after nearly jumping out of his own skin

thinks damon would be a cool friend / murder / prank buddy if they could put aside their differences (wanting each other dead) and give it a try

definitely has mommy issues (what mikaelson doesn't?), but his make him more passive than aggressive

the only people he's ever opened up to, he's ended up killing out of fear of his secrets being shared

loves a good fruity cocktail every now and then, but it's a secret he guards with his life

bonus points if the straw has an umbrella

was never actually going to kill jeremy, he just wanted to get under bonnie's skin

however, he was ready to kill any of them that wanted to raise silas

and would've killed april young for fun had she not been a friend of his sister's, and he and his sister were getting along that day

has a playlist full of songs from musicals that is locked from his profile, just in case one of his siblings look at his account (btw, elijah pays for the family spotify account)

and since elijah pays for spotify, kol pays for netflix, bex pays for disney+, and klaus pays for hbo

they all get the money from the same place, but they feel like they're making meaningful contributions to the family by putting their names on these specific bills

when kol died, bex was not happy about having to pay for two streaming services, but she was not about to miss out on finishing the shows she had started

when kol came back, she immediately gave him back his payment responsibility

whenever they're pissed at each other, they change the password and the one at whom they're mad has to complete a series of puzzles to get access to the new password

kol started this, but klaus does it the most

has a secret affinity for iced coffee, and goes ham for pumpkin spiced lattes every year

pumpkin flavored everything, really

when bex finds out, the teasing never ceases

kol and bex spend halloween together watching movies all day, but then going out and scaring children at night

elijah chides them for being childish, so sometimes they sneak out before he can ruin the fun

wants to kill matt donovan solely for the fact that he slept with his sister

wanted to kill him before, but now it's personal

secretly adores hope, even though klaus doesn't let him near her

braids her hair whenever his brother isn't around, then says elijah or bex did it, and klaus doesn't question it

has tea parties with her and lets her paint his nails

when klaus finally catches them, hope defends her uncle, and her father reluctantly lets them continue to hang out

weapon of choice has been a baseball bat ever since he got a huge satisfaction out of hitting damon with one

likes caroline over cami when it comes to klaus' dating life

likes that caroline persistently rejected him despite his multiple attempts to woo her

painted itty bitty ghost into one of klaus' paintings and he has yet to notice

lives in fear of the day he finally does notice (but not enough to regret doing it)

doesn't often drink so much he gets drunk, but on bourbon, he's a rather upset drunk, however on wine, he's a very giggly drunk

touchier than people would think, and many never realize until he is drunk and lets his guard down a little

has a fear of tight spaces

much prefers being a witch, but also enjoys the thrill of tearing off someone's head with his teeth

no outfit is complete without a little bit of blood

#i forgot i wrote these #kol mikaelson headcanons #also some mikaelson family ones sprinkled in there #kol mikaelson #tvd fanfiction

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