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lookingformoondrop · 6 months

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ok but Can you image the total shit show it’d be if reader somehow rizzed up BOTH Andrew and Ashley?? 😨 literally preying. Like imagine reader is not necessarily popular, but they definetly are one of the most attractive people in the class if not the most

Andrew Graves x Reader x Ashley Graves

TW: Some nasty cat fights between the Graves siblings, everyone has a potty mouth, mentions of unaliving eachother, not proofread, reader just wanted a cookie.

♥︎Notes: This was actually so fun to write. I always love writing arguments between my two favorite assholes and watching it burn from there. Enjoy this messy headcannon and sorry it took so long<3.♥︎

Someone call the police, ain't no one coming out of this alive.

First, we gotta start with how you rizzed up the siblings. Starting with Andrew,

I can already see that to get through Andrew's heart, you gotta be funny.

Yes I know that this brooding son of a bitch is dressed in only dark colors, but he values some humor and I feel like the way through his heart is that.

You were in class chatting with a classmate near Andrew's desk when the classmate brought up your history teacher. Uptight, strict, and a prick, you said, "If he berates me anymore for my red pen, his head will go so far up his ass he'll find his own bullshit."

Unexpectedly, both of you heard a snort. Searching for the source, you saw Andrew covering his mouth with his hand, horrified by the sound he had just made.

You smiled at him and brushed off the snort to the classmate, "I think we're hearing things."

That truly made his heart flutter.

He had started sitting closer to you after that. Whenever he got ready in the mornings for school, an extra step in his routine was to hope that you were coming too.

"Hey Andrew," you walked by Andrew's desk.

"Y -Y/N! Hi..." Andrew mentally cussed himself our for the stutter.

It was dumb...really dumb.

But it made Andrew smile and feel giddy when he walked home.

I feel like Andrew would be very tame when it came to his feelings for the reader.

He'd blush when you're around and check in with you to make sure you're okay. He'd be too embarrassed to actually ask you out, but he would definitely try to find excuses to hang around you.

Now, the only natural explanation for Ashley's involvement with you would be that she saw her brother with a dumbass grin one day and HAD to investigate.

So, how did you rizz up Ashley?

Well, it's simple, really,

She went to your house to get a clear look at you and saw you dancing through the window,

You were fun and disgustingly too kind.

("Idiot")

But somehow, that fun energy intrigued Ashley. You would smile at her randomly when she corssed the street. You had no idea who she was, and yet that smile irked Ashley (in a somehow pleasant way).

"Hey guys!" She cheerfully entered the classroom doorway, a spring in her step.

Andrew turned to look at the voice and immediately felt a muscle in his forehead twitch. "Great," he thought, "another one of Ashley's ploys so that she can harass any woman out of my life."

You, of course, were baffled at seeing this girl suddenly love up on you, but judging by Andrew's murderous smile towards her, you figured they were related somehow.

But instead of Ashley being an ass towards the reader, she began to cling to their arm.

This began a looooong sequence of events where it would go one of the following ways,

You'd go to a spot around town, invite one of the Graves siblings, and no matter how secluded, isolated, unknown, or illegal said spot was, the other Graves sibling would find and join you.

This definitely opens the possibility of more intense sibling fights.

I say intense, but it's more like,

"SAY HER NAME ONE MORE TIME ASHLEY AND I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"DO IT ANDY, DO IT, I DARE YOU. WHAT WOULD MY Y/N THINK ABOUT A MURDERER, YOU FUCKFACE!"

The fights would get so loud that the neighbors would call the police

By the time the police came to knock at the door, Ashley was pulling Andrew's hair and trying to put him in the washing machine, while Andrew was clawing at Ashley's face and trying to smack her head against said machine.

When Andrew (and for some reason) Ashley came to school, you were startled by how banged up both of them became. Still, when you asked about it, all they did was brush you off (and stomp on each other's toes when you weren't looking).

While they did loath each other for trying to steal Y/N from one another, they never doubted the protection they felt they owed to Y/N.

Some random classmate decided to hit on you and make you verryyyy uncomfy. When you recounted the tale to Andrew, he refused to leave you alone for weeks, constantly fantasizing about bashing the guys face in.

ASHLEY ON THE OTHER HAND would absolutely demolish any shithead who tried hitting on you. "They needed to be punished!" Is the last thing she said, and the last time you ever saw that classmate.

Was it risky? Yes. Did Andrew scold her for it? Yes. Did either one of them regret it? Hell no.

Overall, the entire relationship is a complete shit show. And even if you begged them to play nice, they'd still fight over you.

"Ashley, can you help me? I can't reach that cookie jar."

Ashley sprung up from her seat. "Sure thing, N/M~" But just as Ashley was going to reach for the jar, Andrew pushed her into a pile of trash bags in the kitchen and proceeded to grab the jar for you.

"Here you go, Y/N," Andrew smiled at you while you panicked on who to check in with first.

Suddenly, from the pile of trashbags came, "Andrew, you ass!"

Fight or flight kicked in, and you immediately bolted out of their kitchen. Having remembered plenty of their fights, you decided that for today, you were perfect content with just going home. That was enough Graves for today...

"ASS-KISSER!"

"BROWN-NOSER!"

Yeah, that was plenty of Graves for today.

Thank you for the ask!<3

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

previous chapter

———

“Take the exit here.”

“How come?” Nico asks, dutifully putting on his blinker and merging into the right lane. “We’re not even at half tank.”

Will clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s, uh, not for gas.”

A pause.

“Oh, Solace, you’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry!”

Nico throws his hands up, ignoring Will’s screech of both hands on the wheel, I value my life! “There is no possible way you have to piss already. You had half a slushie!”

“...Well.”

“William Andrew Solace, I swear to God.”

“I got distracted!” Will cries, eyes big and round as he pouts. “The Abstract Iron Centaur is a monument, okay, I forgot what the point of the rest stop was for.”

Nico groans. “I’m not sure you should be allowed to go to medical school. You’re going to forget a scalpel in someone’s lungs, or something.”

Immediately, he knows this is the wrong thing to say. The sheepish grin vanishes off Will’s face, replaced with something despairing, before it’s hastily shoved back on.

The winding road finally gives way to the advertised rest stop, partially obscured by a Welcome to Georgia sign with a modernist-style image of a peach that annoys him for no reason. We’re glad Georgia’s on your mind. (False. Georgia is never on his mind, except for how Will can’t say Georgia without slipping into his accent and Nico has to take that golden opportunity to mock him. And then die.)

“Right,” Will says finally. He forces a laugh. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, then gets out of the car without so much as a word.

Nico watches him go.

“Well,” he mutters to himself. “Shit.”

He waits in the car as long as he physically can, which is anything between thirty seconds and four business days. A glance at his watch informs him it’s closer to two minutes.

He kicks a stone across the parking lot, debating the implications of searching for his friend. It hasn’t really been that long, so he’s not sure it’s socially appropriate, and then he wonders when the hell he started caring about being socially appropriate. They are friends, after all, because in a group icebreaker question about siblings in seventh grade, Nico had growled none, on the account that she was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten and Will had laughed, brightly and morbidly, and said hey, my brothers were murdered, too! Twinsies! and killed the vibe rather brilliantly for literally everybody else in the room.

He gives into his impulse eventually, striding onto the surprisingly soft grass and looking, halfheartedly, around the spacious grounds (he’d decided searching the bathroom would be a touch too far). His mission gets sidetracked, however, because the heat is less oppressive under the shade of tall, weeping willows, and there’s a small breeze, and he is struggling to shove his various musings into the Repression Box where they belong.

Will, starts one of said musings, has been acting weird as shit long before he showed up at his house in the middle of the night.

It had started around January? If he had to guess. But Will is always kind of weird in the winter, so he hadn’t thought much of it, just offered to break into his house more often so he didn’t feel too suffocated. The usual. But the strangeness had persisted through the spring – the sudden drops in mood, the hair-triggers to clam him up. Both of which are usually a Nico thing. Will, more often, just shoves all his negative emotions down to the bottom of his soul until he gets one half-mark wrong on a test and sobs himself sick about being useless while Nico stands guard outside the bathroom door, agonised, unsure how to help. And then the two of them never talk about it again.

Over the last few months, things have been a little less balanced.

“Hey.”

Nico jumps. Will stands slightly, shoulders still hunched slightly, but definitely less cagey than earlier. He holds out a cup of coffee Nico recognises as from a vending machine.

“Hi,” Nico says softly, smiling tentatively. He takes the coffee. It’s black, and too hot, just how he likes it.

“You are going to stain your teeth,” Will observes, as he always does.

“Bite me,” Nico responds, following the script.

A genuine smile pulls at his face.

“You ready to get back on the road?”

“Yep.”

They fall into step in their hike back to the Jeep – Nico hiked farther than he meant to. Will’s flip-flops slapping rhythmically against the packed dirt of the trail is a familiar sound, and it eases some of his own tension, putting a bit more prep in his step. When he glances quickly over, Will is breathing normally, shoulders slack, much calmer expression on his face.

“You should let me drive,” he says as they approach. “You’ve been behind the wheel since practically dawn; maybe you should take a nap or something.”

Nico shakes his head, waving a dismissive arm. Frowning slightly, Will acquiesces, climbing back into the passenger side.

“I’ve had two coffees and half a slushie,” he explains, resting his hand on the back of Will’s seat. He cranes his neck behind him, careful of the family walking an unleashed dog as he pulls out. “I’m good forever.”

“Caffeine doesn’t work on you,” Will points out.

Nico pauses.

“...True.”

He hadn’t realise Will had noticed, actually. Although he supposes it’s not too surprising – Will has known him a long time, Will is observant, and Will generally enjoys lecturing people about anything he can get away with, up to and including their general health and safety. Nico, in all his bad choices, is a favourite target of his. He can probably recite his solo midnight speed driving from memory.

“It’s just –” Will stops, waiting until Nico’s safely merged back on the highway before continuing. “It’s three and a half hours ‘till we get to Atlanta, Neeks, and it’s already three-thirty. We’ll have to stop again for food, probably, at one point, and we’ll have to stop for food, soon, and who knows what the traffic will be like –”

Carefully passing the person going sixty in front of him, finally breaking into open road, Nico takes half an eye off the road and digs through the centre console.

“– I mean, if it’s bumper to bumper, then what? It’ll be rush hour soon, shit, I shoulda planned for that, shit, do we have a jerrycan? We should have a jerrycan, remind me to get a jerrycan for the trunk –”

Finally catching sight of the CD he’s looking for (and barely managing to swerve and avoid a massive pothole that would have for sure cut their trip short, but he managed, so take that, Reckless Driving Lecture Will that lives in his brain, who’s God now), he hands it to Will. Still actively stressing about literally nothing, he opens it, polishing the disc on habit and sliding it into the slot without so much as pausing.

Nico smirks.

Yeah, maybe he knows his friend, too.

“– I mean, just blankets and a first aid kit is not enough. Really, we should have some provisions in there. Oh, and rope, ‘cause what if we get stranded in the mountains –”

The radio clicks as it reads the disc, then, suddenly and without warning, the stereo rumbles with heavy bass and pounding beat.

Will cuts himself off. “Hey, is this –”

Nico smirks wider. He chances another look away from the road, just in time to watch a magnificent smile break across Will’s face, wide and a little crooked, showing all his molars – a real one, the one he gets when he’s caught off-guard, the one that makes his hands fluttery.

“You’re playing In The Zone!” he exclaims, laughing delightedly. “Without complaining!”

Bingo, Nico thinks.

“Technically, I didn’t play shit.” He gestures at the empty CD case in Will’s hand. “You’re just like a hermit crab. I hand you things, you hold them.”

“Shut up.” But there’s no bite to the command, smile still stretching wide. If Nico looks, he can see the tiny snag of his barely crooked front tooth, but he doesn’t look, because he doesn’t care about that, obviously. He has his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, fully focused.

Obviously.

They do get into disgusting traffic. Will is distressed about it, up until someone cuts them off so closely they both nearly actually and genuinely die, and he is immediately lit up in a rage so incandescent Nico wonders if he will ever be able to look away from straining biceps and a clenched jaw ever again. More distantly, he wonders if and I hope you get three consecutive aneurysms and your family leaves you to fucking rot in a hospital bed, you leprous shitdick will be on loop in his head for the rest of time. He kind of wants to put it on a shirt. Will’s linguistic talents should be studied.

“Stop thinking about it,” Will demands, socking him (hard! What the shit!) in the shoulder. His face resembles, quite exactly, the shade of the setting sun. “Purge it from your memory.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Nico responds, smirking.

“I wasn’t –” A pause. Nico bites back a snort. “Cutting people off is just so rude.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I mean! I mean.”

“Indeed.”

“If it was – an ambulance, or something, I would understand, but he cut us off just to get immediately stuck in the same traffic! I don’t understand the point!”

“Truly the behaviour of a leprous shitdick,” Nico agrees. His grin starts to genuinely hurt his face, but he ignores it in favour of snickering.

Will sinks into his seat, pulling his hoodie over his eyes. His ears, as usual, stick out a little, and they’re red, too. Nico nobly resists the urge to flick them.

“I hate you.”

“I think you’re quite attached to me, actually. After all, I’m not a –”

“If I hear the word leprous come from your mouth one more fucking time, di Angelo, I’ll give you leprosy. For real. I’ll find it.”

Will probably could find a vial of pure leprosy somewhere, actually, so Nico shuts up. (He’s seen Will’s weird vial collection. Most of it is just, like, various bacteria, he’s pretty sure, but Will is kind of morbid and Nico knows his sense of humour is garbage because Nico’s sense of humour is garbage, and there is a reason they’re friends, and if Nico found a vial of leprosy somewhere he would keep it, too. Can leprosy be vialed? Who knows. Will, probably.)

Once he’s sure Nico is not going to tease him anymore about his temper tantrum, or at least for the moment, he turns back to his book. Every so often, he looks up, observes the three miles per hour they’re crawling, and sighs, loudly and lengthy to himself, muttering something about railway systems and zoning laws and government incompetence. Nico doesn’t ask. He was free from the jail that was history and geography lessons last month. He is determined to learn absolutely nothing for the next six months, at least.

“I’m paying for the motel or hotel or inn et cetera,” Will says, randomly.

“No,” Nico replies, easily.

Will reaches out, calmly, and pinches him on the thigh. Nico does not yelp indignantly because he is a Man, and can handle Will’s weirdly pointy fingers.

“You paid for gas.”

“Yep.”

“And you have car payments.”

“Mhm.”

“And you bought Dunkin’s.”

“True.”

“Nico,” Will says exasperatedly, “this whole damn trip was my idea. Let me pay for shit.”

“I enjoy wasting my father’s money,” Nico counters, and Will pauses, considering. “Come on, commie. I know the idea of spending a banker’s money on stupid shit pleases you.”

He knows he’s starting to win, because Will sighs in a very particular way that Nico has identified as why am I letting this dumbass get away with this again, says, “Spending money is capitalist, Nico,” and turns, begrudgingly, back to his book.

Poorly hidden behind the pages, he’s smiling.

Nico tallies his victory.

The traffic finally eases by around eight o’clock. Victorious, surely, except that they’re still quite a ways from Atlanta. He considers getting off at one of the various exits promising shelter, and in fact decides he is going to, but for some reason, his hand never drifts to his blinker. Never turns the wheel slightly to merge, never eases off the gas. He keeps going, an going, and going, music playing softly, stars beginning to shine through the darkening sky.

Beside him, Will lets out tiny puffs as he exhales, even and sluggish.

“You are a grandmother,” he whispers fondly, shaking his head. In the quiet of the road, interrupted only by the whipping whipping winds – he should have pulled the roof back up when they were stuck, shit – and odd flash of headlights of a passing car, he lets himself soften, sighing back against his seat and easing up slightly on the gas.

Will glows, faintly, in the moonlight.

It’s funny, ‘cause he’s a sun child. Nico has teased him about it for years, in fact; his hair, his bright blue eyes, his stubborn clinging to his aesthetic of wannabe surfer boy. The gold ring he wears on his thumb, the sun pendant that rests on his heart. Swathed in yellows and blues and golds, all the time, with a sprinkling of bright green and neon orange just to remind everyone that yes, he is red green colourblind, and no, that will not stop him from making fashion choices.

But the silver suits him. It softens him, instead of washing him out, reminding Nico that the sun shines white. The low light casts gentle shadows on his face, too, drawing attention to his strong brow and straight nose.

Forcing his eyes back on the road, where they should have been the whole time, Jesus, he notices the giant green Downtown Atlanta sign, and follows its arrows. The first exit he sees, he turns, getting lost three times before he finds the hotel that was advertised.

Pulling into the largely empty parking lot, he shuts off the car, then turns to Will, screwing up his face. He has to wake him up, at some point. Obviously. Unfortunately he cannot simply melt into the shadows and reappear in a hotel room. As awesome as that would be, with his luck, he’d pop into an occupied one, and that’d be a whole host of problems.

Deciding he’ll actually get them a room first, he heads inside, speaking quietly with the desk host.

“Single or double?” they ask pleasantly, voice similarly lowered for the hour.

“Uh,” Nico says, “double?”

The host pauses, eyebrows flicking up at his hesitation. “...Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nico flushes. He adds, belatedly, “Please.”

Eyebrow raised in amusement, the host reaches into a drawer and pulls out two sleek key cards, tucking them into a little envelope thing and handing them over. “Room 409,” they say, nodding towards the elevator.

“Thanks,” Nico responds, and walks out the door. He realises, as he exits, how much of a general failure he is at communicating with people who are not Will, and considers climbing through the window of his sixth floor room out of sheer embarrassment. The realization that he does not have the skill to drag Will up there with him is the only thing that stops him.

“Sunshine,” he murmurs, once he’s gathered their bags and some of the red has faded from his face, “we’re here.”

Will hums a little, voice gravelly. Nico’s lip quirk up.

“Where?”

“Somewhere to sleep.”

“‘M sleepin’ jus’ fine.”

His accent is so, so heavy with sleep, and it’s just – God, he wishes Wil hadn’t trained himself out of it. In Nico’s professional opinion, Will should talk like that all the time.

Authenticity, and all that.

“C’mon, Will.”

After another minute of coaxing – which Nico indulges purely because he knows for a fact Solace will have no memory of it in the morning, in any other circumstance he’d poke him awake – Will uncurls enough to stagger to his feet, stumbling as he gets out of the vehicle. For his own safety, Nico wraps an arm around his narrow hips, guiding him up to the room.

“Mnhgh,” he mumbles, the second the heavy door closes behind them. He walks two steps to the nearest bed, face plants in the middle of it, and starts snoring, feet hanging off the end, one flip-flip still stubbornly clinging to his foot.

“Dork,” Nico murmurs. He gets ready like a normal person, tugging on a sleep shirt – might be an old one of Will’s, actually, because Nico certainly never bought a Shania Twain concert t-shirt – and wrapping up in the wonderfully plush blankets. “Goodnight, Will.”

He gets a snore in response. He burrows deeper into the covers, smiling, drifting off to the sound of his best friend’s rhythmic breathing.

———

next chapter

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captainmalewriter · 1 year

Text

Founding Frat Father

"Whewww FUCK yeah bro! Feels good to be a part of Alpha Alpha Beta! I gotta go recruit some more brothers, then we can party all night at the house!!"

"Cody" hyped himself up in the mirror. He looked, sounded, and acted just like a typical American frat bro. It'd be hard to believe only an hour or two ago, Cody was actually a computer science nerd who absolutely hated fraternities...

***

Earlier that same day...

Cody couldn't help but pat himself on the back as he watched the last moving truck drive away from the frat house. He had been hard at work for the past year and a half getting rid of all the fraternities at his college. Some were easy to get rid of, others required Cody to join and dismantle the organization from the inside out. It took him a lot of time and energy, but now that the only remaining members of Alpha Alpha Beta had moved out, the last frat standing had no choice but to disband.

"Ha! Checkmate, losers, and don't let the door hit you on the way out!"

Cody walked around the now empty frat house with a newfound confidence in his step. As he looked around the barren walls and empty rooms, it hit him just how much he accomplished within the last year. He couldn't stand the frats. In his mind, all frat bros did was party, drink, work out, and fuck. Cody made it his mission to get rid of the frats. He had a goal, and he accomplished it.

As Cody picked up his suitcase, he felt that he could breathe a lot easier now that the all the frats were gone. No need to worry about some jock bullying the little nerds like him anymore. Life was looking up for him! Cody then began walking towards the front door, but as he approached the exit, the doors suddenly slammed shut in front of him.

Where the fuck do you think you're going?

Cody heard a deep voice and quickly stepped back. His eyes darted around the room but saw no one.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Cody called out. He was met with an arrogant, hearty laugh.

I thought you were supposed to be some know-it-all genius! All that studying didn't mean shit in the end, huh? Why, you're only as smart as the rest of us!

Cody kept scanning the room while the voice belittled him. His eyes then landed on the center of the main living room, where the former Alpha Alpha Beta's insignia was still painted on the ground. The insignia was the fraternity's code of arms, and it had all the names of the founding fathers written on it like scripture. Cody was standing directly on it, and that was where he heard the voice the strongest.

"Oh, don't tell me. You're some fraternity bro spirit that's here to haunt me after what I did. Ooooo I'm soooo scared!!" Cody mocked the voice back. The voice went silent while Cody laughed. Only after he stopped did it resume.

The founding fathers had a vision of genuine, hardworking men that were bound by brotherhood. All you see is the fun stuff and you knock us down because of that. Sure, some brothers may go a little overboard, but we also install the values of philanthropy in these young men-

"Is this gonna keep going for a while?" Cody feigned a yawn. "I've got a bus to catch, so I can't stay for much longer."

You listen here, boy! Over my dead body are you just gonna leave after destroying what we've built up! You destroyed it, now you're gonna help us rebuild it!

"Ha! Yeah, totally, and who exactly are you supposed to be? Cuz I ain't helping you do shit!"

I am one of the original founding fathers Andrew D. Matthews, and you're about to be our new founding father!!

A man's head popped out of the ground. The sight of it made Cody scream in terror. The spirit then rose from the ground and made a beeline for Cody's gaping mouth. Cody fell to the floor as Andrew began forcing its way inside of him. He gagged as he felt his mouth and throat getting filled to the brim with the spirit. Andrew slithered its way down Cody, taking control of every cell in his body as it passed them by. Then with one final shlurp, Cody inhaled the tail of the spirit against his will. He kneeled over unconscious onto the ground.

Cody's scrawny body began to inflate now that it was taken over by the spirit. The liquidy spirit filled him up like water. Once Andrew got settled into its vessel, he began transforming the body. Suddenly, Cody's body began taking on muscle mass all over. He was once thin and frail, but now he was toned all over. His baby face disappeared as a thick black beard began growing in. Within minutes, Cody had become an exact replica of the spirit who possessed him.

"Fuck yeah! Feels so good to have real flesh again!!" Andrew said with his new host body. He had successfully possessed and transformed Cody to look like his old body back when he was alive. He rubbed his pecs and gave his growing cock a tug through his shorts. He ran his hand through his beard, and felt right at home as he felt his fingers getting caught in black curls.

Andrew caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror, and proceeded to smirk and flex for the mirror. At the end of the day, he applauded Cody for all the hard work he put into disbanding all the fraternities. But unfortunately for Cody, as long the spirits of the founding fathers were still around, the fraternities were never gonna go away. And now that Cody was possessed by one of them, he had no choice but to sit back in his own subconscious and watch as his own body was forced to bring back the frats.

"Alright, time to get to work."

Andrew took a moment to focus his mind. He then proceeded to transform his fleshie vessel back into Cody's image, although with some body adjustments of course. Cody was no longer a skinny computer nerd, he was now a bonafide jockhead and a founding father for the next class of Alpha Alpha Beta.

"Cody" threw on a baseball cap, gave himself a wink in the mirror, then waltzed out the front door, ready to recruit more men into the fraternity. Alpha Alpha Beta would return to its former glory, no matter what.

#male possession #older to younger #younger to older #permanent change #nerd to jock #male shapeshift

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zsakuva · 18 days

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Hello, saku! Please ignore this if it's too much of a political question. I would assume Andrew is not religious. When and what age do you think he started to question god? and... Do any of the other characters believe in a supernatural higher power?

Thank you!

You are right, Andrew is not religious anymore. I think he started to question his beliefs when his brother started to. They were both brought up with strict morals and values, and learnt teachings of the Catholic faith. They celebrated holy days, were baptised, and attended mass every Sunday without fail.

But when his brother rebelled, Andrew believed it was his duty to help. Even though their parents didn't discipline them physically, they made remarks of the twin submitting to sin, and how the purity of their family was becoming tainted because of it. The parents were more concerned with how others perceived them, and they enjoyed the ego boost, particularly when it came to Andrew.

And both brothers could see it. They would secretly talk about religion, and his twin would point out its flaws and contradictions. His twin would also research into other religions and compare them, noting similarities and differences between them all due to the way his friends would live. As his brother was not placed under the same scrutiny, he was free to absorb other perspectives quicker. Andrew's faith was solid with minor questionings here and there, but his brother inspired him to dive deeper.

And through life, with whatever experience Andrew had, he questioned it. Through observation, he realised that their parents were vain, egotistical and callous, and their devotion to Catholicism was a veneer to garner compliments and convince themselves they were bound for Heaven. He noticed how they used him and disregarded his brother. God held his hand, and the Devil held his brother's. But he knew that was wrong. So in his mind, if that wasn't true, then what else would be false?

2. As for characters who believe in a higher power, I think the only ones would be Cevyk, Asirel, Dontis, and Zaros.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #andrew marston

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jtl-fics · 11 months

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I love how you write Ichirou in Math Nerd

Like I just love fics/headcanons where Ichirou is still this dangerous mafia boss but like… isn’t necessarily an antagonist? We didn’t see much of him in the books, and don’t get me wrong he’s definitely a bad person, but he doesn’t seem outright cruel like Riko was, just ruthless, and I like to imagine he has a begrudging soft spot for the loud-mouthed runaway who proved himself to be an annoyingly useful asset. Idk I just think it’s funny (and it keeps me from worrying whether he’ll execute Neil when he can’t play exy anymore)

I always see Ichirou as prizing / valuing competent people. He wants things run cleanly and Neil in Math Nerd AU basically showed up and was like “Hey I’ve got fucking DIRT on some pains in the asses you thought you needed to keep dealing with until your dad dies / they slip up. Hire me.” And does exactly what he says he was going to do.

Neil after he saves Andrew from Drake and maneuvers things so Andrew will grow up somewhere safe he uh… kind of has 0 fear of death? So like he will just clap back at Ichirou and Ichirou kind of enjoys the novelty of it? Its like if he had a little brother or something but with none of the weird family politics.

The fact that Ichirou got to see what a tax return looked like for the first time ever? Yeah he is a lil fond of his accountant. Good thing he’s going to get him into the best accounting program in the- that mother fucker skipped a grade and is on the Kathy Ferdinand show.

#math nerd au #hes ruthless but its never personal if you get me?#ichirou moriyama #neil josten

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thespineoftherighteous · 1 year

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late to the unpopular opinion party but!!.

i think the way people act as though aaron is some kind of monster for not seeing how much andrew cares about him is excessive. i get where they’re coming from but taking a second and putting yourself in aaron’s shoes makes his whole deal a lot more understandable.

we all know through killing tilda, andrew was killing aaron’s abuser, but i think an abuser being a loved one in the past makes everything a lot more complicated and aaron had every right to be upset and grieve. and if i were aaron, being locked in a bathroom would not sit right with me no matter how well intentioned it might have been.

as readers we see a lot of how much andrew cares for aaron and i get that it’s easy to be annoyed at how aaron seemingly doesn’t understand how much he does but it seems unfair to dismiss how hard andrews actions really were on aaron even if they ended up dramatically helping aaron in the lo by run.

BIG agree. I've seen it a lot where people seem to get like? insulted? that Aaron kind of resents Andrew for how he's treated but look at it from the eyes of. literally anyone who's not Andrew. even Neil seems to sympathize with it (and certainly understands it) he just deals with it bluntly because the way he sees it, we don't have time for any of the twins' negative feelings. and a good amount of fans seem to take that at face value which to me just shows a complete lack of comprehension depth. like they expect Aaron to be all !!yay!! because "his abuser has been killed" as if. that's all.

and THE THING IS TOO is that. i think killing Tilda was forgivable. i think the bathroom trauma was forgivable. because what Aaron wanted more than anything was a relationship with his brother, and he could've come to terms with the sacrifices that had to be made IF he actually got what he wanted in the end. if Andrew had given Aaron time to grieve and collect himself and then they allowed themselves to develop as brothers, i think they would've had a very different relationship by the time tfc kicked off. but Andrew doesn't work like that and instead of recognizing what Aaron was going through he gets resentful and angry and locks up against Aaron.

and STILL Aaron would've taken anything Andrew was willing to offer. but all Andrew seems to have is cold shoulders and snide comments about dead mothers. one of the most heartbreaking lines to me is that "how was i supposed to know you cared you wouldn't even talk to me unless i said something first". like?? HOW is he supposed to think Andrew gives a shit about him when that's what he's working with?? and HOW can you hold that against him? stg it's like he's in the wrong for not being able to read Andrew's mind tf

#the literary and character comprehension when it comes to Aaron can very often be found. on the floor #this sounds so passive aggressive idk why it came out like that but it's not wrong i think #aftg #twinyards #also sorry for getting to this so late #🦊✉️

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stabbyfoxandrew · 29 days

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Happy wip day!

May i perhaps request an Angel Neil AU?

WIP Wednesday (3/27) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 143)

Andrew blinks. “What?”

“If you admit there’s a girl, you can go.” Aaron says. And it smells like the sort of trap Andrew would lay.

“Straight to entrapment, huh?” Andrew asks, almost proud.

"Maybe."

"Well, as good of an idea as it was. I'm afraid I must disappoint you. Because, for the last time, there’s no girl— on planet Earth or otherwise— in which I am interested at the moment.”

Aaron looks him up and down, trying to find a lie in that statement. He won’t though, because it’s the truth. A stupid truth based on a technicality, but a truth nonetheless. Finally, Aaron seems to give up. “Fine. I believe you.”

Andrew gives him a look. “Oh, do you?”

“Yeah. I thought about it a lot last night. And I couldn’t think of any girl who would ever risk her life and ask you out. Or any sane girl who would say yes if you asked her. So… If there was a girl, she’d have to be imaginary now wouldn’t she?”

“You are correct.” Andrew laughs, trying not to reveal just how much that assessment hurts. Or would hurt, if he cared about his brother’s- or anyone's- opinion of him. “Now let me ask you, my dear brother. Are there any girls who value their lives so little that they would mess around with you when we have our deal going? If so, I would suggest telling her to get lost before I find out and remove her skin.”

Aaron pales slightly at the threat and Andrew takes it as a victory.

“Uh, guys…” Nicky interrupts from the bedroom doorway. “Are we fighting?”

“Yes. We were. But we’re done,” Andrew says. Then he rips the door open and leaves before Aaron can open his mouth again. After he stomps his way down to the car, he leans against the passenger door and lights a cigarette, just in case Aaron has decided to look out the window.

‘She’d have to be imaginary’, rings in Andrew’s head and he scoffs. What a bastard. Why the fuck is he related to that dick?

Well, because two deeply disturbed individuals forgot to use a condom twenty years ago, Andrew guesses. With that thought, Andrew recalls what Betsy had told him yesterday: ‘If you were six years old, and not almost twenty, I would say you’ve got an imaginary friend on your hands.’

Such rude people he surrounds himself with.

Is it so hard to believe that Andrew is friends with a beautiful, funny, incredibly stupid man who just happens to be an angel? (Yes. Yes, it is.) Andrew looks up to the roof expecting to see said angel, but he’s not there. As he drops his gaze back to the parking lot, the others file out of the Tower's front entrance. And the four of them climb into the car and take off for the stadium.

#andreil #aftg #WIP Wednesday #Guardian Angel Neil AU #🕊️#answered #currently-evil

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 months

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Love this discussion about the half in / half out setup. My two cents: most of the Hi/Ho have either

- a legit profession (Zara, Mike, Snowdon, Annabel) where the royal connection just adds value and prestige and interest. This setup is solid and can continue indefinitely

- a thinly disguised networking outfit (Peter, Prince Michael, Andrew, Beatrice) where the royal connection is the core business but discretion is paramount. This setup is fragile and must be either abandoned when the Crown gives the "cut it" sign (Andrew, Prince Michael) or shored up with more legitimacy (Peter and Beatrice look like legit nepotism hires/entrepreneurs these days)

Even the married-ins follow this template: Edo, solid business with royal polish; Jack, went too far in selling royal tequila and had to pull back after a brief exile in Portugal. Sophie tried the "networking" route, was exposed in a tabloid sting, and had to give it up. Tim has a distinguished naval career, and he's occasionally photographed looking good in coats. Fergie tried the "networking" route a million times, unsuccessfully, and has finally settled on a fairly well received role as a writer. Pippa and James tried the "networking" in the 20s and were bashed for it. Carole kept her business going with added Royal polish for as long as she could, before the inescapable market pressure crushed it.

The Duchy Originals is a bit different, because part of the Duchy profits are fed back into the public coffers, and Charles/William are not out there promoting their own biscuits. (also my mum loves said biscuits, so...)

Meghan wanted to be a "Royal influencer", which is neither a solid profession nor discreet behind the scenes networking, so there was no template for her. "Prestige Actress" with no titles but a ton of Royal polish could have worked (she has no talent but the press would have praised even her breath-y take on Ibsen, back then), "HRH Duchess Influencer" with #ad posts was a bridge too far.

...sorry, I've written an essay. But it's an interesting topic, so out in the open now!

I agree with most of this and I get what you're saying, but I can't get past lumping Annabel in with Zara, Mike, and David. Same with including Pippa and James.

Everyone else is either royal by birth or royal by marriage. Annabel, Pippa, and James don't fit into either one of those categories since it's their sibling that is royal by marriage. IMO, they are irrelevant when it comes to discussing half in/half out.

I don't like Annabel. I'm sure she's a nice lady and I know she's just supporting her sister and brother-in-law, but dear God. The lady needs to read the room and stop talking.

#ask #brf #half in half out

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rewatching-sam-and-dean · 5 months

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The Schrödinger's SPN Revival

So, recently there’s been a lot of talk on here and twitter because a couple articles have been published citing Jared and Jensen (or just Jensen in one POS article) mentioning discussing possibilities for a revival. Does this make it any more likely to happen or closer to being realized? I don’t know, but the guys have been mentioning it off and on for years already, so I’m not sure it’s any more likely now than it ever was. Also, with networks and the whole industry in seeming disarray, even if J2 want to get a revival going, I’m not sure it will happen.

But, let’s speculate anyway. Shall we?

(I CANOT get the link to work for some reason!!)

My thoughts on this, under the cut.

I’m no authority on anything in the TV industry, but I have watched our little show a lot, so I have thoughts. Let’s take look at each person on this poll.

Kripke - Obviously, he understands Sam and Dean. He created them after all. But, would I trust him with the revival? Well, judging by The Boys, he seems more focused on shock value than tight storytelling these days, so I’m not sure I would want to see an SPN on a streamer that he ran. It might become a case of all fireworks and little to no heart. Also, if he had ended the series in Season 5, both Sam and Dean would have been trapped in the cage forever. Not exactly a happy ending. Still, is he capable of manning a revival snd doing a decent job? Yes. Would I totally trust him with it? Maybe. Maybe not. Do I think he even has time to do it? Not really.

Jensen - Come on, people! If you want him to reprise his role as Dean, then he isn’t going to be the showrunner. Also, he’s an actor, not a writer, so it’s not even in his wheelhouse. So, no. This wouldn’t be a good idea. And after The Winchesters, I think it’s extremely unlikely that he’d be put at the helm in this way. The only upside to Jensen being a show runner? We know damn well Destiel would be ignored as vigorously as it deserves.

Robbie Thompson - Exhibit One: The Winchesters. So, no. Also, while he has written some episodes that I like of SPN, he was always trying to make the show something it wasn’t, whether it was Fairytale time with Charlie or trying to shoehorn romance into a platonic brother love story, he’s shown that he shouldn’t be trusted with the OG show in a position of power.

Sera Gamble - Season 6 while having some absolute bangers, was also a bit of a mess in some ways. And Season 7 was more so. How much of this was due to Gamble hersel and how much was due to Singer tugging at the reins, I don’t know. She is a proven showrunner, so I believe she could do it. She actually understands and enjoys Sam, so that would be a huge relief for those of us who actually care about Sam and want to see him get his due on screen. Also, she has never written Dean badly from my observations, despite certain past claims by “some people” on women not writing male dialogue well. In a lot of ways, I think she could be a good choice. But, would she be interested even? I have no clue.

Andrew Dabb - NEXT!!

Jeremy Carver - For reasons relating to Season 11, I would like to see him helm a revival. He can clearly follow through with a connected and coherent arc. However, for reasons relating to Season 8, where he had characters do a few hugely out of character things for the story’s sake? No. For Season 10 snd the bore thst it was for me personally (though that potentially had something to do with pressure that came from Singer)? No. All in all. I think he’d be capable of ruining a revival, but something tells me he isn’t particularly interested and they guys may not be that ready to chose him, either (purely just my gut).

Robert Singer - No. I believe he interfered with Gamble and Carver’s plans; I just don’t know to what extent. And worst of all, he did nothing to help steer Dabb away from the mess that was much of Seasons 12 to 15. Also, he’d probably bring Buck-Lemming with him. And can I just say a big, “Fuck no,” to that.

Again, all of this is just me rambling. I have no real idea how likely any of them would be to come back for a revival. And I also don’t know how much J2 would want any of them to run a revival, or whether they’d want to just get someone new who might be more likely to listen to their ideas. I don’t even know if J2 would have an easy time agreeing on who would make a good show runner from that list because I think they might not even agree on who they considered to be better writers, or be better candidates to showrunner. For example, I think Jared might be more enthusiastic about Gamble than Jensen would. And Jensen would probably welcome Singer more than Jared would. Again, I don’t know any of this for certain, but it just my impression based off of things they’ve said over the years.

If a revival happens what do I want?

First, it sounds to me like if there is one, J2 want to be a big part of it with Sam and Dean as central focus. This is what I would want. I watched the show for them. I stuck it out through the rough seasons for them. The only way I would watch a revival was if it heavily featured both Sam and Dean. Second, I think I would enjoy if they did a revival during the years (according to J2) between Episodes 19 snd 20. I would like this because it would make the likelihood of angel or demon interference minimal. And this would be the more likely scenario for us to get a more old-school creature hunting revival. We could still see Jody and co for those who care about that. There would be no need for Cas or Jack to show up, which I would prefer. Yet, it would be easy enough for them to make a brief appearance if J2 wanted to pander in that way. Also, I’m so very sick of Angel BS, and this seems like the best way to avoid it. Third, I could be interested in a bit of a prequel with John and the boys, if they could find a way to include J2 without making it convoluted and pointless. Finally, if they come back from heaven for some reason, I think it would be hard for the revival to have much in the way of stakes. And I really wouldn’t want a huge dose of Cas, which we’d potentially have in that case.

Anyway, here are my thoughts on the potential revival, thoughts thst no one asked for admittedly. Lol.

If anyone read this far, what are your thoughts on a revival. If it happens, who should run it and what would you want to see happen?

#supernatural #SPN Revival Speculation #my thoughts #if they have one what should it be about?#Revival talk #castiel critical #anti destiel #*edited for so so many typos*

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emmashouldbewriting · 4 months

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What are your thoughts on Andrew & Fergie being part of the Christmas outing?

It's a reminder that the Windsors are human beings who value family and that there is a vast difference between official events and personal ones.

The King's brother may be a piece of shit, but His Majesty can invite that piece of shit to church on Christmas Day if he so wishes.

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loveandplanet · 20 days

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Miss Americana

Now Playing: Labour

CW: Mentions of blood, violence, abuse, misogyny, *HINTED* rape, depression, hints of death, no beta we die like Meabh’s hubby-(who said that?). Italics depict inner monologue, italics in “” depict Norwegian

Apologies from my tongue, but never yours.

“Get up,” No response.

“I said, get up!”

Evelyne watches as her brother, Andrew, is dragged off, limp, bloody. Just like she’ll be soon. The red reminds her of the roses on the floor, the cause of her father’s anger. Marshall never liked flowers. Her knees ache. The pain is nice; reminds her she’s still alive. For now, at least.

“Evie,” a small whisper catches her attention. Evelyne turns her head and sees her younger sisters staring at her from the stairs in horror. Nellie and Claire. 6 years old and so, so naive.

“It’s fine, Nel. Go back to bed,” Evelyne practically begs the girl. He’ll kill them too if they don’t leave.

Their mother, the druggie, watches from the dining room table. Evelyne will never, ever forget her cowardliness. “Women watch their tongues. We are seen, not heard. You will learn, Eve, if you value your life.” Alice, because “mother” would require her being present, stood on the side. Always. Never defended her children from the monster she married.

It’s not an act of love if you make her.

Maybe it was Evelyne’s fault. Maybe she shouldn’t have worn that dress: it was a little too short. Maybe she should’ve just stayed home tonight. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t have happened if she just kept her mouth shut and didn’t talk back. Her favorite dress wouldn’t be covered in her own blood if she did.

Marshall’s thundering footsteps breaks Evelyne out of her thoughts. This is it, she thought, this is the end. Her father towers over her, reeking of alcohol.

“Who is he.”

“Malic. Malic Greene. He’s my classmate.”

“Don’t lie to me, girl.”

“I swear to you!”

Evelyne hears before she feels. The thundering crack of flesh meeting flesh. He finally raised his hand. Then the pain hits. Her cheek is burning, the delicate skin throbbing from the impact. Her head feels fuzzy. Evelyne barely registers falling, hitting the floor, doesn’t even hear Andrew yell. Just, silence. Peace, at last.

“You make me do too much labour.”

#call of duty #cod ocs #oc #my ocs #original character #Evelyne ‘Snake’ Gray #oc backstory

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catflowerqueen · 7 months

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I feel really bad for Bloodmoon right now. We know how much they value family, and how hurt they were by Ruin's betrayal and how they made him work back up to being called brother. So for KC to admit that he was basically lying the whole time when he called himself their father, and them his child? That hurt. Like. I already knew he was a terrible father, but... that really hurt.

And it isn't that he didn't give them good advice/speak the truth about them needing a purpose beyond being a tool for others... but then he didn't actually follow through on offering help or suggestions. Or really admit that he, too, had been using them as a tool.

The actual beatdown also kind of reminded me of that one Bioshock scene where Andrew Ryan makes you kill him with a golf club and keeps saying "A man chooses, a slave obeys" except Bloodmoon wasn't being mind controlled/hypnotized into killing KC.

And it also makes me feel even worse about what happened between them and Lunar, since Lunar did originally offer them a relationship with open arms and seemed really excited about the prospect of "a brother who cares" only to have Bloodmoon immediately try and attack them after getting their new body. Both times.

Moon was definitely right about Bloodmoon never actually getting the chance to change. Unlike Eclipse, no one has offered them a helping hand or a new, constructive direction. I mean, even with that earlier example of Lunar, it was still transactional in that they wanted Bloodmoon to help them get rid of Eclipse first, and didn't really think about what they could do in the aftermath.

Personally I still think they would enjoy working as a professional paintballer or in Fazerblast or something. Or demolition. Destruction with a purpose.

#SAMS #sun and moon show

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1moreff-creator · 9 months

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Brain go brr on the Q&A

+Xander trying to hide his piercing from his school is so him, I love it.

+Listen, I don't want to overthink the Q&A too much, but my brain won't let me be normal about some things. The birthday thing caught my eye. Supposedly, some of the dates are important, but the rest are meant to be spread out, right? But Veronika and David's birthdays are, like, two days apart, so does that mean they're important? Same with Ace and Arei (ike three days), but at least Ace's birthday is Halloween so it's not hard to figure out. I don't remember most of the other birthdays, so I don't know if there's more examples.

+Why is this the "new David"'s default sprite? Is he so smug it runs all the way to his default pose? What.

+David can cook, malewife status confirmed. Also, "how does he handle his feelings? Badly" That's hilarious.

+New info on the Spurlings! This is getting outta hand, now there's two of them! I'm really intrigued as to what the hell their deal is. And Duke could have been alive during the Tragedy? What are we implying here? So many questions!

+Ace is officially gay! Many people are happy with this development. Though I have to ask, did anyone ship him with any woman? Now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen that. Anyways, not like it matters now!

+Pan Veronika, pan Veronika, pan Veronika yes! I love it! New headcanon; she just dates/has sex with anyone she thinks will be entertaining to date/fuck. "Bit-sexual", as internet funnyman Alpharad would put it.

+I swear the David sexuality thing is an actual quote from somewhere. Hold on.

Found it! Not the exact wording, but Andrew Garfield said something like it once. I love it, it's perfect for David!

+So Charles' scar is a dog bite, but he doesn't remember and thinks it's a birthmark? Is it... related to his brother's death? Dev, what. You can't just say things like that and then not elaborate. /j

+Levi with a sweet tooth is fantastic. I think it was already implied in his profile, but it's still great!

+Alright, about favorite colors:

Teruko: red (reasoning: association)

So... Xander or Mai? I'm leaning towards Mai, frankly.

Charles: "Why would I assign emotional value to colors? That's a ridiculous waste of energy." (cerulean)

That quote is hilarious. And now I can't help but imagine Charles unironically writing "cerulean orbs" in a fanfic-

Whit: neon pink (reasoning: "Pink!!")

God, I love these characters.

J: black (reasoning: cool)

I wouldn't expect less.

Nico: none (reasoning: no interest)

I honestly kinda love this, but also what does it mean.

Ace: dark blue/purple (reasoning: refuses to provide reasoning)

Acevi shippers are eating today, holy.

Arei: azure (reasoning: "I'm blue, so clearly it's the best color!")

Why did you have to die?

Min: taupe (reasoning: comforting)

Min information: absorbed. Love it. Also her design has a lot of taupe (I think) so it's comforting to me too.

Veronika: white in conjunction with other colors (reasoning: brings out other colors well)

Huh.

Alright, now least favorite:

Whit: gray (reasoning: boring)

Alright, tone it down, Kamukura.

Rose: none (reasoning: all colors have their value in the right situations)

Fantastic, I adore this.

Eden: blue (reasoning: "Kind of a downer color...")

Areden shippers in shambles. How would you say this about your girlfriend's color, Eden?

J: pink (reasoning: obvious)

If you listen closely, you'll hear Whit's heart breaking in the distance. But this is expected.

Hu: blueish white (reasoning: sterile)

This is Arturo's fave. Are we setting up a foil thing here? I'd honestly love to see it, Arturo and Hu may be the characters I want to see the most of after maybe Veronika.

Nico: white (reasoning: unsettling)

Nico, what- what the hell are you talking about?

Ace: titian (reasoning: doesn't like himself)

Ouch.

Min: white and pink together (reasoning: annoying)

Dude, Whit cannot stop catching L's here, what is going on. Anyways, Min info absorbed.

Veronika: white in the absence of other colors (reasoning: soulless)

So, this is pretty interesting and all that... but she dislikes the same color as Nico? The Vero-Nico dynamic grows stronger! You love to see it. Or I love to see it, I adore them as friends/spiritual siblings.

+Ace has nine siblings?! That's a lot of kids!

+Nico cuts their own hair, and gets the cat ear things to stay up? Ultimate Hairdresser in the bulding!

Veronika's single green earring is a 'good luck charm' given to her by her dearest friend.

Aafgsj- Who?! Okay, first, I didn't even realize she had that, so thanks for pointing it out. Second, you can't just say that! Because you know I'm gonna assume that's Mai, especially with it being a 'good luck' charm when Mai is (kinda) the antithesis of Teruko and thus (kinda) the antithesis of bad luck. Am I to assume Veronika will be plot relevant now? Because I sure hope she is! I wasn't supposed to overthink the Q&A, dev, but look at what you're doing to me!

+Now the ice cream flavors:

Charles - coffee

This is actually stated in his profile. You gotta admire the consistency.

Hu - rose

Honey, wake up, a new random ship based on one (1) detail just dropped. It's a pretty cute one, too.

Nico - "the flavor" (doesn't elaborate further)

What is Nico doing in this Q&A? What am I supposed to gather from this?

Min - lemon

Min info drop spotted. I'm very normal about this character.

Xander - sauerkraut???

Xander, what the fuck are you talking about.

Veronika - funfetti

Honestly love this. White with other colors, right? It's perfect!

+Rose's painting preferences are cool to know, and she does give off a bit of middle child vibes, idk why. And two moms? Pog.

+That concept art! DRDT would have ended a lot earlier if Arei simply had a gun.

+Smells! (which of you people-)

Veronika - Womanly perfume (heavy)

I... was not expecting that! But it's Veronika info, so I absorb it. I kinda like the idea.

Nico - Cat

The more I learn about Nico, the more I love them.

Min - Lavender/eucalyptus/lemons/whatever essential oil she decided to use that day

W-Why does she use essential oils? I guess they must help her relax, because there's no way she actually believes they have any other benefit. Unexpected, but it's neat.

Whit - Fruity fun shampoo (for kids)

Yeah, yeah.

+Interesting that the Spurling Foundation and XF-Ture Tech don't have any connection, I guess that post I made on Min's secret is slightly outdated. Still, XF-Ture Tech "seems to do a lot of other things", huh? Peculiar.

I loved this Q&A, it was so much fun! I hope something like this is done again in the future, it's great.

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #fanganronpa #drdt q&a #this is so much fun!#im not tagging the characters

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dailyunsolvedmysteries · 1 year

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Police charge White man for shooting Black teen boy

A white homeowner in Kansas City, Missouri, has been charged with armed assault after he shot a Black teenager who rang his doorbell by mistake, authorities announced on Monday.

Andrew Lester, 85, is also facing a charge of armed criminal action after shooting Ralph Yarl, 16, twice on Thursday. The teenager, a high school junior, was going to pick up his younger twin brothers from a play date when he went to the wrong address. Zachary Thompson, the prosecuting attorney, announced the charges late on Monday after intense local protests and widespread outrage over the police’s decision to briefly detain Lester before releasing him without charges.

Lester was not in custody early Monday evening, but there was a warrant out for his arrest, Thompson said. Charging documents said that Lester came to the door when the doorbell rang and then shot the boy in the head, before shooting him again, and that no words were exchanged before he opened fire.

Yarl was recovering at home after being released from a Kansas City hospital on Sunday, where he was being treated for gunshot wounds to his head and chest, his family said. Lee Merritt, an attorney for the family, told the Guardian that Yarl suffered a fractured skull, a traumatic brain injury involving swelling, post-concussive syndrome and injuries to his arm. “The family is elated that Ralph didn’t succumb to his injuries, but now they’re angry about the failure of the justice system to show any value or appreciation of his life,” Merritt said in an interview on Monday morning before the charges were announced.

Kansas City police had insisted earlier that they could not take further action until they spoke to the seriously injured boy.

Stacey Graves, chief of the Kansas City police, defended the release of the unnamed homeowner on Sunday, citing Missouri law that states a person can be held for only 24 hours before being formally charged or released. But she said her department was working quickly to prepare evidence for the Clay county prosecutor as its felony investigation continued.

“We recognise the frustration this can cause,” Graves told reporters. “I want everyone to know that I am listening, and I understand the concern we are receiving from the community.”

Graves acknowledged hundreds of protesters who gathered outside the home where the youth was shot, carrying placards with statements including “Ringing a doorbell is not a crime.” The police chief had said detectives were looking into whether the homeowner was protected by stand-your-ground laws regarding self-defence. Crump countered Graves’s assertion that while she recognised “racial components” of the incident, “the information we have now does not say that that is racially motivated”.

According to his family, Yarl, a high school junior with a passion for music, was given the address to pick up his 11-year-old brothers but mistakenly went to a house on 115th Street instead of 115th Terrace and was shot after knocking at the door. Faith Spoonmore, the teen’s aunt, was among protesters on Sunday. She said the homeowner “opened the door, looked my nephew in the eye and shot him in the head”. She said he was shot a second time after he fell to the ground, was able to get up and run away, and knocked at three homes before someone helped him.

“Even though he is doing well physically, he has a long road ahead mentally and emotionally,” she wrote in a GoFundMe appeal to raise money for medical bills and other expenses. By Monday afternoon the appeal had reached nearly $2m.

Quinton Lucas, the mayor of Kansas City, said members of the police department attended the Sunday protest to listen to community concerns.

“This is not something that has been dismissed, marginalised or diminished in any way. This is something that is getting the full attention of the Kansas City police department,” Lucas said.

Merritt said it was rare for a victim to survive this kind of a shooting, and that he was grateful the teenager would be able to tell his side of the story. But he said the family had been struggling to process the news that the man who shot him was released from custody: “They live in the same neighborhood, they may see him at the grocery store or around corner. That causes a lot of anxiety and fear among the family.”

#Ralph Yarl #america #news #crime #true crime

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burnthoneydrops · 1 year

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What Time Has Done (Part I) Benedict Bridgerton x Original Character Series

Synopsis: Emmeline Castillon is finally making her debut in London’s high society. After a few years away, the first ball of the season turns out to be quite the hassle with her rather protective older brother by her side. She manages to catch the attention of the some of the ton, but not the in the way she would like.

Requested: No

Warnings: none that I can think of, but please let me know if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 2988 A/N: This is a series I’m starting based on an original character but feel free to switch out her name for yours or whatever you’d like. Please give me feedback, it’s much appreciated!

Masterlist

From the bottom of the staircase, the room sparkled like a thousand diamonds, floating as if frozen in space and time.

“If you look up much more you’ll soon fall over,” my brother comments, a slight smile on his face.

“It just all looks so magnificent,” I reply, too fascinated by the decorations to notice the people giving me odd looks as I stood at the base of the stairs.

“Shall I leave you to your staring Sister? Or are you actually going to tour the room with me?”

“Yes, my apologies,” I take his arm and we begin to walk around, my attention now shifting from person to person as we step.

“Mr. Castillon!” Someone calls from behind. My brother is quick to look over his shoulder, and his face lifts lightly in recognition, turning the both of us fully around.

“Lady Danbury!” My brother smiles, putting himself slightly in front of me as Lady Danbury shakes her cane at us. “What a pleasure it is to see you ma’am. Might I say that dress is a wonderful colour on you.”

“Flattering as always Mr. Castillon,” she looks over at me, “and Miss Castillon. How are you this evening my dear?” “Quite well Lady Danbury. Your decorations are magnificent”.

“Why, it took but all my effort to remove her from the staircase so we could move on to other things,” my brother jests.

“Your compliments are appreciated Miss Castillon,” Lady Danbury replies, giving my brother a teasing smirk before looking back at me. “Have you been making your rounds? I have yet to see you on the dance floor”.

“Oh yes, we were just making our way around the ballroom ma’am,” I reply, trying my hardest not to look anywhere else in the room. Lady Danbury, while an excellent host and valued member of the ton, is quite an intimidating figure.

“Wonderful! Well I’ll be intrigued to find out who the lucky men are that fill your dance card,” she says as she walks away, moving on to entrap some other group in conversation.

“I am quite interested in that as well,” my brother comments as we begin to walk again.

“What?”

“Which men you have caught the eye of this evening. Countless of them I’m sure”.

“Oh well, I wouldn’t say countless-”

“Nonsense Em. Look, every eye is on you as we speak”.

“That is because I have delayed my debut by quite a few years. I can feel their whispers whipping past us,” I sigh, uncomfortably glancing at all the viscous mamas who look at me and then whisper to their daughters.

“You have to see it as quite the opposite Sister. The delaying of your debut has allowed you a few years advantage above the other young ladies this season. You have more knowledge and maturity and therefore all the more reason not to make a rash decision and bond yourself into a less than ideal marriage. I see it as the ultimate win for you Em”.

“Or, I am older and therefore less worthy of the attention because I have less years ahead of me to breed and bear children”.

“It is all a matter of perspective my dear sister”. Andrew parks us in front of the refreshment table, handing me a glass of lemonade before grabbing one for himself. The band strikes a last chord as the dancers bow gracefully, thanking each other for the dance. The mothers clap for a few seconds before pushing their daughters not so subtly in front of a potential suitor, offering them up for the next dance. I try to keep my shoulders up high so as to not hide myself in the corner of the room. Being back in London’s social season is much more intimidating than I had imagined. I see Mother making her way over to us, with two of my other siblings trailing behind her. Graham looks like he might tear our mother’s head off before the night is over, and it takes all of me not to laugh and attract more attention to myself.

“Good evening dears. Anything noteworthy to report?” Mother asks as she finally reaches Andrew and I. I shake my head no before taking another sip of lemonade.

“Is there any particular reason you look fit to burst Brother?” Andrew asks Graham, a smile fighting its way onto his face.

“Your brother has spent the last two dances with some wonderful young ladies, haven’t you love?” Mother looks at Graham expectantly.

“They were lovely, until one of them tripped over both her feet and mine, nearly causing quite the scene. The other I learned had accepted my proposal to dance on the false information that I am talented in both poetry and the pianoforte,” he explains, huffing in anger. It would be clear to anyone who has seen Graham attempt these things, or merely talked to him for a short while, that the arts are not his strong suit in the slightest.

“Where on earth did she hear that from?” Andrew asks, already knowing but wanting to poke fun a little bit more.

“I haven’t a clue Andrew, maybe our dearest mother would know something?” Graham retorts, looking directly at her.

“I was simply boosting your prospects dear. You hardly seem keen on making progress yourself”. Andrew and I burst into a short fit of laughter. “And what about you Emmeline. Any potentially dazzling beaus you would like to tell us about?”

“Not yet Mama. We have just finished our tour of the room, not without being stopped by Lady Danbury first”.

“Well, seeing as it is her ball, that can’t be too surprising,” my younger sister, Josephine, pipes in. This is her first season too and Mother thought it best to divide and conquer the dance floor, Andrew taking me around and her taking the younger two.

“She stopped us as well. I thought she and Mother would never stop talking,” Graham adds, not one for lengthy conversations.

“What about you Josephine? Has anyone caught your eye?” I ask, trying to lessen the probability of Mother asking me another question.

“Lord Gershwin seemed quite taken by her during their dance,” Mother butts in.

“Was he?” I ask, looking back to Josephine to get her honest response as best I could. Andrew scoffs in disgust.

“What was that for?” Josephine asks him.

“Lord Gershwin is a cheater and a liar. He has left his unpaid debts on our club books for months and insists every time he is questioned that they are paid off. The evidence stares him clear in the face and yet he lies,” he concludes with a nod, seemingly happy with himself for bringing the truth to light. Josephine looks slightly disappointed.

“Well, people are allowed to change, are they not?” I offer, trying to not crush Josephine’s possibilities in one fell swoop.

“If he wanted to change, Sister, he would have repaid his debts. The day he does that, I might reconsider,” Andrew quips back, firm in his stance.

“All the better I wasn’t too interested anyway,” Josephine comments, shrugging.

“We’ll find you a better husband Jo, do not fret,” Andrew tries to reassure.

The song comes to a finish and the partners bow once more. I look around at them, scanning their faces before glancing at my empty dance card. Before getting too sad about the lack of names on the small sheet that for some reason determines if the night was a success or not, I look back up, catching some couples smiling goodbye at each other. One poor girl looks like she’s on the verge of tears and her dance partner looks like the wind changed and his face is now stuck in a permanent grimace. A few people over from them stands a group of chestnut haired gentlemen, appearing deep in conversation. They look vaguely familiar, but I cannot seem to place my finger on who they are. Lady Danbury makes her way over to them, causing all three of them to turn around as if they could go unnoticed by one of the most observant women in the ton. I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh as each gentleman makes some variation of a straight, closed lip smile. The tallest of the three looks above the group, clearly not engaged as Lady Danbury talks to one of the others.

He glances in our direction and my eyes widen as we make eye contact, a heat instantly rushing to my cheeks. I quickly look away, choosing to look down toward the floor and sipping on the lemonade still in my hand. I thank the heavens that Mother and my siblings are still engaged in lengthy conversation, much to Graham’s disappointment, and therefore did not catch my flush of embarrassment. I look back up and the taller gentleman is still looking at me, a small smile on his face.

I turn back to Andrew, and as the conversation comes to a lull, “Should we make another round Brother? Perhaps you can tell me more about the dastardly men of the ton”.

“Of course Em. We will catch up with you lot later,” he addresses the rest of the present Castillon clan. Then, as we distance ourselves from our family, “I saw you making eyes with a certain gentleman across the way”.

“Oh was I?” I ask, trying not to choke on the sharp inhale I took in response.

“Indeed. Fortunately for you, there was another man blocking my view, so you are saved from that humiliation for tonight”.

“How gracious of you Andrew,” I reply, joking to save face and internally being grateful that whoever that mystery man was decided to stand directly in my brother’s line of sight.

“The human blockade had rather wide shoulders, and a rather wide frame in general now that I think about it. Impossible to look around”.

“Did he now?” I try not to laugh at his casual use of “human blockade”.

“I am being quite serious Em, this is no laughing matter,” he is also trying to keep a laugh down.

“My apologies dear brother,” I widen my face so that I might have some chance of gaining a more look about me again.

A gentleman takes the few small steps from his spot against the wall over towards us and stops directly in front of Andrew. My brother gives him a look up and down, as if taking in everything he would ever need to know about this man in a matter of mere seconds.

“Lord Castillon, Miss Castillon,” he nods politely at each of us, giving me a closed lip smile at the same time, “I was watching from over there,” he points back to his spot against the wall, “and I was wondering if I might have the honour of a dance”.

“Lord Campbell, was it? I believe my sister’s dance card is full unfortunately. Good evening,” he pulls me along, away from Lord Campbell.

“What was the meaning of that? You know too well that my card is in fact barren”.

“I know Lord Campbell from my days at university. Trust me Sister, he is not the type of man you want to keep in constant company”.

“At this rate, Madeline will find a husband before I do”.

“I’m just looking out for your best interest Em. And don’t be ridiculous, our 12 year old sister is not about to wed before you”.

“It certainly feels like she might with the way you are behaving. Though if you are anything like this when she’s of age, I wish her the best of luck”.

“As your brother it is my job to scour the marriage mart as much as you and make sure you have the best options placed in front of you”.

“And you are deciding those best options are you? Andrew, it is already difficult enough with Daphne Bridgerton being proclaimed the season’s incomparable, I do not think I need the extra burden of you shooting down all my potential prospects”.

“Nonsense, here comes a ‘potential prospect’ now”.

A gentleman about Andrew’s height had made his way over to us and stood just as Lord Campbell had done a few moments before. He smiles at both me and my brother before looking between the two of us and choosing to address me directly.

“Would you care for a dance Miss?” I notice he has the same chestnut hair as the group from before, and I conclude that they must be brothers, or scarily similar mates.

I look at Andrew, half expecting him to have some reason or another why this man is just as much a piece of scum as the rest of them, and when he doesn’t object, an awkward pause fills the space.

“If I’m not crossing any boundaries, that is. Should your dance card be full, I will gladly take my leave-” “Not a bother there Lord Bridgerton. Emmeline would be happy to dance, wouldn’t you Em?” He asks, turning toward me half way through his thought. My breath hitches as it dawns on me why the group of gentlemen earlier were so familiar. The Bridgertons are recognisable anywhere.

“Of course,” I smile as politely as I can, as Lord Bridgerton puts his arm out, guiding me to the dance floor. Andrew takes a step back, most likely going to find Mother and tell her the good news.

“So tell me Miss, you are Lord Castillon’s sister, are you not?” He asks as the dance starts anew.

“Indeed I am my Lord. You have siblings as well, yes?”

He laughs, though I didn’t think I had said anything funny, “Seven in fact”.

“Seven?” I repeat, the shock in my tone quite clear.

“So it is not as common knowledge as we once thought”.

“You’ll have to forgive me sir. I knew there was an abundance of you but the number seemed to have escaped me,” I internally frown; this does not seem to be going well.

“It’s quite alright. I can hardly expect everyone to keep track of the Bridgerton clan. Surely it is not just you and Lord Castillon though”.

“Oh no. Andrew is the oldest, then there is I, Graham, Josephine and Madeline. Josephine is also debuting this season”.

“I was wondering about that. She seems of the age for this to be her first season”.

“And I do not?” I ask, not meaning to sound offended, but to the untrained ear it might have come across as such.

“No, that is not what I meant at all. Just that her being younger than you-” he starts to ramble.

“I am merely jesting Mr. Bridgerton. We delayed my debut by quite a few years so I could finish my studies on the continent”.

“And what is it that you study?”

“Literature and artistry mostly, in France. There was a time when I was certain I would not debut at all and simply become a governess, so Papa thought it wise that I at least have some training in certain areas with which I could teach children. Then with some convincing from my mother and younger sisters, I decided I would enter the marriage mart and here I am.” I laugh awkwardly, hoping I didn’t say too much.

“Is that so? Well, you would get along great with my sister Eloise. She is much into literature of different varieties, much to our mother’s dismay on occasion,” he adds with a smile.

“You are all named in alphabetical order, are you not?”

“We are indeed,” he nods, almost surprised that I knew that.

“I do remember some things Mr. Bridgerton. Three years away did not melt my memories that harshly”. He laughs, and I can only hope that it means I made a good first impression.

“I just found out I am to begin my tour in Greece come the end of the season”.

“Greece? Oh how wonderful!” The song comes to a close, and we bow as is accustomed.

“Thank you for joining me Miss Castillon. I hope to see you again some time,” he smiles as he rises to full stature again, still having to look down slightly to make eye contact with me.

“Thank you for offering it Mr. Bridgerton. I greatly appreciate any excuse to be pulled away from my brother, though I wouldn’t go telling him that,” I reply.

He laughs, nods, and then departs, heading back in the direction of the rest of his family. His mother looks most intrigued when he rejoins them, grabbing his shoulder and no doubt peppering him with questions. I follow suit, finding Mama and my siblings. Josephine looks at me with wide eyes.

“You got asked to dance by Colin Bridgerton?” she questions me, amazed.

“That’s his name,” I mutter, trying to recall as much of the order of them as I can muster.

“You danced that whole time and you did not even know which one you were with?!” Josephine’s interrogation continues.

“Well, when there are eight of them and all the boys are to be addressed at ‘Lord Bridgerton’, there isn’t much time for guess work,” I explain, thinking it fairly reasonable.

“Sending you to the continent did much good for your academics, but poorly for your social knowledge,” Mother sighs.

“I do not think it was that obvious that I did not know the specifics. Besides, three years does a lot in the development of a person. The boys are hardly recognisable,” I try again.

“Hm, indeed,” Graham hums sarcastically, clearly holding the opposite opinion.

“When you spend three years not being filled in on the happenings of your hometown and focusing solely on your academics, things tend to slip your mind,” I try once more.

“Oh for God’s sake, looks like we’ll have some catching up to do,” Josephine says, though she’s never been one to turn away from good gossip.

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