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#i was thinking about this line again to be honest
rainba · 1 day
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Desperate Kairos ❤
I mentioned some of the kinks of my sillies in a previous ask, but I wanna write/expand on them just a little bit.~
For this one, I wanna focus on Kairos’ praise + worshiping kinks. ((Mostly praise.)) So... Same as always, Kairos being Kairos.
To be honest, this is kind of just me rambling lol
There are two versions here! First one is a fem darling, the second one has a male darling.
18+ NSFW, MDNI
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Kairos would typically imagine himself being the one to do the worshipping, but he absolutely loves the idea of his love worshiping him, too. The thought of being praised for anything still sounds like such a foreign concept to him– so when you do it, he becomes instantly obsessed.
If you praise him once, he’ll beg you to do it some more, asking you to repeat yourself over and over just so the sentiment can settle in. And if you worship him during sex just once, he’ll do absolutely anything to have you do it again. He’ll get on his knees and plead with you, he’ll give you all of his money, draw you anything you’d like– whatever you want from him, he’ll give you it.
Just… Please, please, please, worship him again.
Let him sit on the edge of the bed with his cute cock out as you toy with him. He’ll wear whatever you want– thigh highs, cat ears, a bunny suit, literally anything. Kairos gently pets you as he begs you to praise him.
“I’m… I’m your good boy, right..? Y-you love me, right? Only me?”
Call him your master. Call him your owner. Call him an angel. Tell him he’s the only person in this world for you, and that nobody else can compare to him. Those words alone might be enough to make him cum on the spot.
“P-please, keep going,” he’ll pathetically whimper as he tries to guide your mouth to his throbbing cock, desperate for you to give it love and attention. If you tease him too much, he might grip the back of your head and force you to take his entire length at once. He’ll be apologizing while he does so, but the guilt doesn’t outweigh the carnal need to fuck your tight throat.
Part of him so badly desires for you to tell him just how much you love it. If you tell him something along the lines of, “your dick looks so tasty, so perfect,” he won’t be able to stop thinking about it for weeks after. And every time he thinks about it, he becomes incredibly hot and bothered.
Sucking on the tip and licking up and down his length will have him gripping the sheets and mewling. It just feels so, so good. He’ll beg you to kiss it as well, and he’ll also tell you to lick up the precum that’s leaking from his needy cock. Then he’d ask you if it tastes good.
And when you answer with a yes, his entire body will tense up as he stifles a high-pitched moan.
Kairos won’t make you do all the praising, though. He can’t help but praise and worship you as well.
“G-good girl, you’re… You’ll b-be a perfect wife! I… I love you s-so much!” 
When he’s desperate to make you feel good, he’s always quick to use his mouth rather than his hands. He just loves to taste you– it feels so personal, so loving. He absolutely loves eating you out, but there’s also something else he loves: sucking on your breasts.
The first time you let him suck on your tits, it’s like he gets addicted. They’re so soft in his hands, and so soft in his mouth. Kairos gets all hot and shaky as he sits on your lap and loves on your tits… It’s one of his deepest fantasies coming to life.
Kairos closes his eyes in bliss as he warmly sucks and licks them, occasionally leaving tiny love bites. He moans sweetly the entire time, all while grinding his cock against your thigh. If you ever want him to stop, you basically have to force him off of you. When you push his head away from your tits, he’ll immediately dive back down and start sucking on them again while mumbling the words "n-no, please, more."
The only times he pauses is when he wants to praise you.
“Th-they’re so beautiful,” he’ll mumble as he softly flicks one of your nipples with his wet tongue. “A-and they’re mine… All mine.”
Right before he’s about to cum, he’ll ask you permission to do so. 
When he genuinely wants to fuck you, though, he’ll become a reckless mess. Kairos will fervently push you into the bed and pin you down as he practically tears off your clothing. He loves all the foreplay, truly, he does– but sometimes he yearns for more. He can’t help but feel that he needs to be deep inside of your soaking wet pussy immediately.
Oh, and… Please, pretty please, praise him as he fucks you senselessly into the bed. When he’s desperate, his thrusts become messy, and his pace is inconsistent– he’s just doing what feels good at the moment- but he’s trying his best...! 
All he craves is to feel your inner walls squeezing his cock and milking it dry. He desperately needs to fill your cunt to the brim with his seed.
“So warm.. So t-tight… Ah…” He harshly bites down on his bottom lip. “Please, tell me you love this… P-please.” 
The more you praise him, the more erratic he becomes. His small hands will grip your shoulders as he ruts into you like crazy. He might wrap his hands around your neck and choke you instead– if you’ll let him.
“S-such… Such a perfect pussy… You’re so… So perfect.” Kairos leaves little kisses all over your chest as he keeps going.
His left hand will then reach down and lovingly rub sloppy circles around your clit. There’s nothing more he wants in the world than for you to both cum at the same time. It’d just be so romantic!
He’ll do anything to please you. He’ll do anything to be worthy of your praise.
Since he’s not that experienced, he might accidentally make you cum first– which makes him tear up, because he so badly wanted to cum in unison with you. So, if this happens, he might just end up overstimulating you until he climaxes himself.
But if he cums first..? God, he will be extremely embarrassed.
He mumbles a long line of apologies as he cums deep inside of you, panting heavily as he still tries to make you climax too.
If his hand isn’t enough, he’ll spread your legs apart and bury his face between your thighs, excitedly and sloppily eating you out. It doesn’t matter that his cum is dripping out of your pussy as he does so– in fact, he secretly likes it. He’ll try to push his cum back inside of you with his tongue as he looks up at you for encouragement.
And as a way to apologize, he’d make you cum twice, all while praising you. He’d also be thanking you for letting him fuck you.
But he’d also be begging you to forgive him.
 “Y-you’re so kind to me… Y-you’re like an angel, I… I don’t deserve you,” he slowly runs his tongue over your slit as he pushes two fingers inside of you, curling them and gauging your reactions the entire time. He’s determined to memorize all of the things that make you come undone.
And Kairos also loves watching you orgasm on his fingers– the sight of it drives him crazy. Plus, it gives a tiny boost to his ego.
For weeks and weeks after that, he’ll constantly find himself replaying lewd scenes of you in his head, sometimes even drawing it on paper. Then he won’t stop thinking about how he’s gonna make you cum even harder the next time he fucks you.
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(Male Darling)
Kairos would typically imagine himself being the one to do the worshipping, but he absolutely loves the idea of his love worshiping him, too! The thought of being praised for anything still sounds like such a foreign concept to him– so when you do it, he becomes instantly obsessed.
If you praise him once, he’ll beg you to do it some more, asking you to repeat yourself over and over just so the sentiment can settle in. And if you worship him during sex just once, he’ll do absolutely anything to have you do it again. He’ll get on his knees and plead with you, he’ll give you all of his money, draw you anything you’d like– whatever you want from him, he’ll give you it.
Just… Please, please, please, worship him again.
Let him sit on the edge of the bed with his cute cock out as you toy with him. He’ll wear whatever you want– thigh highs, cat ears, a bunny suit, literally anything. Kairos gently pets your hair as he begs you to praise him.
“I’m… I’m your good boy, right..? Y-you love me, right?”
Call him your master. Call him your owner. Call him an angel. Tell him he’s the only person in this world for you, and that nobody else can compare to him. Those words alone might be enough to make him cum on the spot.
“P-please, keep going,” he’ll pathetically whimper as he tries to guide your mouth to his throbbing cock, desperate for you to give it love and attention. If you tease him too much, he might grip the back of your head and force you to take his entire length at once. He’ll be apologizing while he does so, but the guilt doesn’t outweigh the carnal need to fuck your tight throat.
Part of him so badly desires for you to tell him just how much you love it. If you tell him something along the lines of, “your dick looks so tasty, so perfect,” he won’t be able to stop thinking about it for weeks after. And every time he thinks about it, he becomes incredibly hot and bothered.
Sucking on the tip and licking up and down his length will have him gripping the sheets and mewling. It just feels so, so good. He’ll beg you to kiss it as well, and he’ll also tell you to lick up the precum that’s leaking from his needy cock. Then he’d ask you if it tastes good.
And when you answer with a yes, his entire body will tense up as he stifles a high-pitched moan.
Kairos won’t make you do all the praising, though. He can’t help but praise and worship you as well.
“G-good boy, you’re… You'll be s-such a perfect husband! I… I love you s-so much!” 
When he’s desperate to make you feel good, he’s always quick to use his mouth rather than his hands. He just loves to taste you– it feels so personal, so loving. He absolutely loves sucking you off. The feeling of your cock invading his small mouth is one of the best feelings ever to him. And when you choke him with it? It makes him so fucking hard. But there’s also something else he loves: sucking on your nipples and leaving marks all over your body.
The first time you let him suck on your chest, it’s like he gets addicted. Every time he leaves a small mark on your skin, it feels like he’s marking his territory. He’s letting the entire world know that you belong to him.
Kairos closes his eyes in bliss as he warmly sucks and licks your chest, occasionally leaving tiny love bites and large hickeys. He moans and whimpers the entire time, all while rubbing his cock against your thigh. If you ever want him to stop, you basically have to force him off of you. When you push his head away from your body, he’ll immediately dive back down and start sucking on your skin again while mumbling the words, “n-no, please, more. I… You look so p-perfect, covered in marks.”
The only times he pauses is when he wants to praise you.
“You’re so perfect,” he’ll mumble as he softly flicks one of your nipples with his tongue. “A-and you’re mine… All mine.”
Right before he’s about to cum, he’ll ask you permission to do so. 
When he genuinely wants to fuck you, though, he’ll be a reckless mess. Kairos will fervently push you into the bed and pin you down as he practically tears off your clothing. He loves all the foreplay, truly, he does– but he craves more. He can’t help but feel that he needs to be deep inside of your tight ass immediately.
Oh, and… Please, pretty please, praise him as he fucks you senselessly into the bed. When he’s desperate, his thrusts become messy and his pace is inconsistent– he’s just doing what feels good at the moment. But he’s trying his best...! 
All he yearns for is to feel your inner walls squeezing his cock. He desperately needs to fill your hole to the brim with his seed.
“So warm.. So t-tight… Ah…” He harshly bites down on his bottom lip. “Please, tell me you love this… P-please.” 
The more you praise him, the more erratic he becomes. His small hands will grip your shoulders as he ruts into you like crazy. He might wrap his hands around your neck and choke you instead– if you’ll let him.
“S-such… Such a perfect body… You’re so… So perfect.” Kairos leaves little kisses all over your sweaty skin as he keeps going.
His left hand will then reach down and sloppily stroke your cock, occasionally squeezing and giving extra attention to the tip. There’s nothing more he wants in the world than for you to both cum at the same time. It’d just be so romantic!
He’ll do anything to please you. He’ll do anything to be worthy of your praise.
Since he’s not that experienced, he might accidentally make you cum first– which makes him tear up, because he so badly wanted to cum in unison with you. So, if this happens, he might just end up overstimulating you until he climaxes himself.
But if he cums first...? God, he will be extremely embarrassed.
He mumbles a long line of apologies as he cums deep inside of you, panting heavily as he still tries to make you climax too.
If his hand isn’t enough, he’ll simply flip you onto your back and ease your cock into his ass, happily riding you until you cum. He tells you to just relax as he bounces up and down, a look of pure ecstasy plastered on his face.
And as a way to apologize, he’d make you cum twice, all while praising you. He’d also be thanking you for letting him fuck you.
But he’d also be begging you to forgive him.
 “Y-you’re so kind to me… Y-you’re like an angel, I… I don’t deserve you,” he tightens around your cock as he tries to play with your nipples, pinching and rubbing them between his fingers. He’s determined to memorize all of the things that make you come undone.
One of his favorite things in the world is the feeling of your hot cum filling him up. It’s borderline addicting. So, please– use him all you like. He’ll worship you even more if you fuck him until he can’t move.
For weeks and weeks after that, he’ll constantly find himself replaying lewd scenes of you in his head, sometimes even drawing it on paper. Then he won’t stop thinking about how he’s gonna make you cum even harder the next time he fucks you.
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cosmos-coma · 1 day
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Glass Desks
A/N: Just a silly little scene I've had in my head for bit now since I work as an occasional house cleaner to try and get by. I got surprised by someone coming in on my last clean and just had to turn it into something.
Pairing: Mafia! Bucky Barnes x House Cleaner! Reader
Words: 1,055
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A sigh escaped Bucky as he ran a hand down his face. He was supposed to have meetings all day today- ones important enough that he’d rearranged everything around them- yet within the first two hours something had already come up and his associates were forced to reschedule.
“Hey, boss? We’re here…” Sam said from the driver’s seat, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him look up at the large empty house before him.
His empty house.
He wouldn’t trade his line of work for the world, truly, but between both the secretive and potentially violent nature of his job, it didn’t exactly leave much room for pleasant company. 
He sighed again as he stepped out, “Thanks Sam…. That should be all for today, but I’ll call if I need you.” He said and patted the roof twice before it pulled away. 
Making his way up the stairs toward the entrance, all seemed normal at first glance- that is until he spotted an unfamiliar car parked around the side. 
It was an old car, parked out of the way in the shade- not quite a beater- but they definitely didn’t make its model anymore. It was non-descript and would blend in with a crowd if needed, but more importantly: it wasn’t one of his. 
He moved toward the door with far quieter steps now, listening intently for the intruders. Multiple voices came from inside as if trying to talk over each other in layered tones. Chairs and doors clunked and creaked as they were moved about, followed by the moving voices- were people searching for something? 
Instinctively his hand found the gun in his jacket. ‘Sam didn’t say anything as he left… Did he really not notice the car? No-Sam was one of his best men… Maybe he already knew they were here..?’ Bucky thought.
Either way, he wasn’t taking any chances; his fingers closed around the gun’s handle as he cracked open the door, the weapon a comfortable and familiar weight in his hand. His steps were silent as he entered, their practiced paces unknown to anyone but him. 
However, instead of finding an enemy gang searching for secrets he found…. You. 
You were hard at work in your own little world as you went about cleaning the second floor. You bobbed and sang along to the music emanating from your back pocket, your voice layering over the original as the rags half tucked in your belt swayed with you. The mobster couldn’t help but crack a smile. 
He had completely forgotten. Usually, on days when he was meant to be out of the house for hours on end, you would be scheduled to come clean. But apparently, no one had informed you about the change of plans.
You had been hired on as his house cleaner a few months ago, helping him keep things together while work kept him endlessly busy. But despite having been on the payroll for a while now, he still hadn’t found the time to officially meet you- that is, until now.
He couldn’t deny that you looked… rather silly if he was being honest, but your unparalleled passion only made it all the more endearing. His head shook with a faint smile as he watched as you moved into his office. Shutting the door behind him with a soft click, he was halfway up the second-floor stairs when he heard you suddenly break away from your song. 
“Ugh…,” you sighed loudly to yourself, still thinking you were the only one in the room, “what kind of an asshole has a glass desk? I mean, really- Do you have stock in Windex? Is that what it is???” You asked snarkily to no one in particular, but this was too good for Bucky to pass up.
“Not yet. Should I?” The mobster found himself biting back his laughter as he leaned against the office doorway behind you. 
“At this rate? You should really-“Your mouth clamped shut faster than it ever had before, your entire body freezing on the spot as his response finally processed. Your eyes were wide as saucers as your thoughts ran on a panicked loop ‘Oh no, oh god, oh shit, oh fuck. you really just had to insult the infamous White Wolf of New York… In his own home… In front of his own men… Are you STUPID??’ you yelled at yourself internally and quickly put on a brave face, turning off your music and turning to the unfamiliar voice behind you.
Your stomach nearly dropped as you realized it was not only “one of his men” it was, THE man. You instantly recognized him from the few photos scattered around the house; the sharp stubbly jaw and blazing blue eyes were unmistakable, not to mention the hint of the metallic arm you caught between his suit sleeve and glove. You couldn’t deny he was handsome- even more so in person than he was in his photos.
“Mr. Barnes…!” Your voice squeaked out, but he just held his same amused smile, looking anything but upset. “I, uh… I thought you had meetings all day today- I didn’t mix up the date, did I..?”
“Not at all…” he said with a quiet laugh. “My meetings got rescheduled part way though, so I thought I’d spend the evening working from home. Little did I know it’d be the perfect place to get financial advice too.” 
Your face burned with embarrassment as you relived the very recent moment yet again, “Right, uh, about the whole ‘asshole’ thing, I-” 
But he simply waved you off, “Don’t. It’s refreshing to get an authentic opinion, and honestly? I don’t even like that desk.” He admitted, his heart stirring in new ways as your whole body relaxed and he could finally see you as you usually were, “and, ah… if you wanted to stay for a while, I sure wouldn’t mind the company- I could use a little advice in the stock market.”
You bit your lip to hold back your grin, you wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, “Oh, me? I don’t know if I’d really be suitable company while I’m cleaning.” 
A thought seemed to pass over him then as he nodded in agreement, “Hm, you’re right..” he smiled, “Perhaps we should just have dinner then… how’s tonight?”
______
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zuhamuses · 3 days
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♡ " A mess "
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Pairing: Jude Jazza x Kate (MC)
CW: lots of cursing + jealous jude!! (Tho it isn't much of a warning, lol.)
Note: My 2nd entry for @judejazza 's event!! I hope everyone likes this Jude fic <3 divider & header by the lovely @natimiles
Jude's eyes followed her figure as soon as she entered the dining room. Her smile lacked its usual cheerfulness, and her eyes looked sad.
That expression of Kate's broke something inside of him. This wasn't the first time she was wearing that look. Of course. She was living in a castle with cursed people, but Jude knew that wasn't why she looked so down.
Jude clicked his tongue in annoyance, but his eyes quickly looked her over... making sure she was doing physically well... that she wasn't harmed. He quickly looked away.
He was pissed. Very fucking pissed if he had to be honest. Whatever they both had going on was messing with both his head and heart. Jude Jazza was smart, but he couldn't find it in himself to put a name to their "relationship."
When she got hurt, he had wanted to kill all of those people right then and there. Her smile brought a strange sense of calm over him. She was beautiful -- fuck. Shit. He mentally cursed himself and faced her.
"How was yer date?" He basically spat the words out with that sadistic grin on his face.
Kate huffed and narrowed her eyes, looking angry. "Why are you looking so smug, Jude?"
He barked out a laugh, leaning back on the chair. "Smug? Whatcha talkin' about, Princess?"
"Do you take pleasure in seeing me hurt?"
Jude looked at her straight in the eye. "Ya should have the answer to that already."
Her face was red. Kate was fuming. The earlier hints of sadness from her expression were all gone.
"Why do you even care? Huh?" She questioned him, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I don't fuckin' care." Jude replied, expression mirroring hers.
"Then you shouldn't act like you do. Even if he didn't come to the spot--"
He threw the newspaper in front of him, a little too aggressively.
"Then ya will agree to meet that fucker again? Even if he stood ya up two times already? Princess, do ya have any self-respect?"
Kate gasped. "Jude! Just what is your problem? I don't get it!"
Shit. He messed up. Her eyes were filled with tears and... he was the cause. Jude mentally laughed at himself. He was warning Kate about a guy while he was the worst of them all. Surely, the Princess deserves better.
He took slow strides towards her. "Do ya like him?"
"... What?"
"That lousy fucker who can't even show up on a date, and stood ya up twice."
"That's none of your concern."
He took slow strides towards her, but Kate wasn't moving back. She stood still in her place, curious to see what he was going to do. Her eyes were fixed on him, studying his every expression and movement. Kate's eyes were shining as always, but she had changed so much...
She turned even more beautiful.
"He doesn't deserve ya. Ya are wastin' too much of your time." He said nonchalantly, bending down slightly to meet her eyes. "Or do ya like bein' stood up?"
"I can't understand you, Jude Jazza..." Kate breathed out, eyes narrowing once again in fury. "You push me away, say harsh things, then act like you care about me. Just what do you want?"
He clicked his tongue, and they both kept staring at each other. They weren't able to break eye contact, or they just didn't want to. Jude wondered... just what was she actually thinking?
He reached out to wipe a tear that had escaped from her eye. His hand was rough from his line of work, but his touch was gentle.
Kate's reddened cheeks, her big eyes filled with curiosity, her laughter and giggles, the way she would listen to him, and how she had tried to keep him safe during missions... that was all so precious to Jude.
"He can't treat ya good, ya dummy." He said softly.
Kate was silent for a while, but then she spoke in an equally soft voice.
"If he can't... then can you? What are you implying, Jude...?"
His expression as he looked at Kate was so gentle, so soft. There was no sarcasm in his voice as he replied, "Yeah, if ya don't trust my words, then wanna test it out?"
He chuckled upon seeing her flustered and surprised expression. Yeah... he wouldn't trade her for the world...
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houseofevanbuckley · 3 days
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Not even going anon for this q... please give us all more parents!bucktommy!!!!
Oh lord … I’m obsessed with them as parents, so it’s not a hardship at all
I want to go back to the start though, to how this family started.
They’ve been together for a few months when they have their first talk about having kids. Buck was babysitting Jee and took her to Tommy’s place since he has a garden and Tommy can’t stop thinking about it for days afterward. Buck in his garden with a kid. The sight was just so good, the way they played and ran around together.
Tommy can’t stop thinking about it. And it’s not the first time he thinks about it, to be honest. He loved to see Buck talking and helping Christopher with his homework and anything, really. Spending the day all three of them at a museum or park while Eddie can spend time with Marisol or for himself.
Tommy actually loves to make a date of anytime they have to babysit the kids, taking them all outside, parks, museums, theme parks, beach, you name it, and Tommy took them there.
So while they cuddle one day, he just asks if Buck ever thought about having his own one day.
And Buck turns around to look at Tommy, because he feels that as innocent as the question is, it is a sign of their growth as a couple, of Tommy thinking long term and he has to face the man for it.
Buck, who talks about how he felt when he held the baby, that he helped to conceive, for a few minutes and how his life just came to a halt. How seeing Jee for the first time on her mom’s chest had his heart squeezed.
He always assumed that his life would fall in line, the wife, the house, the kids.
But if he let the wife cliche go, he still thinks that he’d like the rest. The house, the kids.
And what he doesn’t say, the husband.
Tommy just hugs him tighter and confesses that when he came out, letting go of the potential of having kids was the hardest part, but that with how the world change he wanted to believe in it again.
It absolutely unlocks something between them, this talk of the future, of a future together and of shared dream.
That’s why when two years later, after their wedding, after their new house, Hen and Karen go to them when they had a call for a little boy. A three months old. The child is orphaned, no dad or grandparents filed anywhere, and no one is still alive on his mother's side.
They already had three foster kids, in addition to Denny so having a fifth child in the house would be a challenge, one that they would embrace but when the worker asked them if they had people in mind that would take the boy they thought of Buck and Tommy.
The boys who look at each other, hands clasping together while Karen shows pictures of a small blond boy bundled up in a green blanket.
Buck is the one who asks, “what do we have to do?” and by the squeezing he feels around his fingers from Tommy, it was the right thing to say.
Thanks to Karen and Hen having been exemplary in all the years of them taking kids in, and because it’s a baby, the process is sped up. Not that it’s fast or easy.
Just after the visit, Buck goes on a cleaning spree, pulling out a clipboard and going full Clipboard!Buck on himself and Tommy. The house has never been this clean since they moved in.
The garden is mowed, plants and trees are pruned.
Tommy has even been sent on the roof to clean it and he did with a smile, seeing how serious and excited Buck was, making himself even more excited for this new adventure with his husband.
When they go back to their respective stations after their two days off, each of them gather letters of recommendation and characters from their teams, which also announce to them all that they want to welcome that baby boy in their house.
It takes them a week to have the house ready and their letters from everyone, filling their foster parents’ file with the help of Hen and Karen.
Buck vibrating out of his skin each night while they cuddle, and Tommy doesn’t count how many times he caught Buck on baby clothes websites, but he’s just as bad as him. Having screenshoted so many cute onesies, his ads are now only baby formula and toys.
It takes them one more week before they get a call back from the agency for a first visit of their house and an interview.
They have to wait for three days for a feedback of that visit. Buck is a wreck and Tommy had been asked to stay grounded with how distracted he’s been.
Finally, they get a call for a second visit at their house with two workers this time. The questions are more in-depth.
A few days letter they have a call from Bobby saying that they had a call from the agency to talk about Buck and Tommy. And a day later, Lucy calls them with the same news. Quickly enough, Maddie and Tommy’s brother were called as well.
It takes them one more month, random visits and calls before they get the call.
They can take Noah home starting four days from now.
Buck pulls the clipboard out again, but this time he enrolls everyone.
Maddie and Chimney are sent to the shop to get the formula and diapers, mountains of each.
Tommy and Eddie are painting the guest room, Noah’s room. They agreed on a soft forest green for the walls, and blue for the ceiling with small white clouds.
Buck has Pinterest boards, ok? And he’s going to make this room the best room for a child.
May and Denny went to the shop to pick up plushies and games.
Buck is finally ordering all the onesies he and Tommy saw online and baby proofing the whole house: one cupboard, one drawer, one window at a time.
Bobby making food for them all and helping where he can.
One week later, the social worker come to their house. They’re alone. They wanted to welcome him, just them. Noah will be presented on Sunday to the whole family, but now it’s Thursday and the next 3 days are theirs, and only theirs.
Buck is the one to open the door, his breathing stuttering and his blood pumping in his ears, until he fully opens the door and his eyes fall on the car seat where Noah sleeps and everything quiet down.
He hasn’t felt this calm and quiet since his and Tommy’s first kiss, but after all, his world is changing again today and shouldn’t it warrant the same reaction?
The worker enters and does a last inspection, more a formality than anything else, but it could still mean that she’d leave with Noah.
She goes around the house and leave Noah in his seat in their living room where Buck and Tommy can’t stop looking at his sleeping form.
Finally, she comes back from her inspection and sees how they are hugging and looking at the seat and she can see how excited they are, how much they already love the little boy.
“Do you want to take him?” she asks, and Buck looks at her with watery eyes and nods.
She goes to the seat to free Noah from it and carry him toward Buck’s, who’s himself held by Tommy, and she very gently places Noah in his arms.
Tommy and him looks down at the boy. They know that for now it’s only a temporary placement, that anything could happen. But Noah is in their arms now and they couldn’t feel happier or more complete.
Small follow up here : https://www.tumblr.com/houseofevanbuckley/748906523907014656/the-tie-is-blue-and-i-love-you
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Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
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TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint
You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 
“Hi, pretty girl.”
You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”
It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.
“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.
You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”
On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”
“Do not call me baby.”
“Alright. Sweetheart.”
“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”
“Thank you.”
You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.
They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.
“You okay?”
The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?
“I guess. Why?”
“That doesn’t sound okay.”
“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”
“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.
Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 
“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”
He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.
“You wish you hated me.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.
Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.
“A parka.”
“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 
“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”
Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.
“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.
“Nice. No panties?”
“I am wearing panties.”
“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”
“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”
“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”
“You are having fun.”
“But you’re still listening.”
Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.
“Maybe.”
He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.
“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”
“What?”
“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 
You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 
You laugh.
It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”
You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”
This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”
“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 
You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”
You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”
Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.
You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”
“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”
You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”
“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.
He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 
“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 
“Yeah, honey, I am.”
“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 
“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 
“No.”
“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 
He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.
“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”
“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 
“Good job. And too late.” 
“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 
He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”
She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 
You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 
“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.
“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 
“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.
“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”
You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.
“What was that?” 
His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.
“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.
“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.
“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”
“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”
You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.
“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”
“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 
His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 
Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah? You there, baby?”
You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.
“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 
“Y-yeah?”
“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”
You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 
“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 
It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 
That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 
He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”
“No.” But then, “a little bit.”
“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 
“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  
“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”
“Oh? Bullshit.” 
“I’m hanging up.” 
Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”
Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 
He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
“No you won’t.” 
“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 
You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 
His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”
“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 
“Sweet dreams.” 
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zombiequeenblog · 2 days
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When the Cardinal got the call about the attack on Mouse and the sibling, do you think he reacted sharply over the phone to whomever he spoke with, or cooly responded and waited until he hung up to go ballistic? I’m curious about his initial reaction to the news. 🫢
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The Cardinal sat there, alone in an unfamiliar office, and thought about the changes so close at hand. It had been a long time coming, he supposed; the steadily ticking clock on the wall kept his toiling years in the forefront of his mind. All the bustle and the striving, the whole dogged pursuit of his own dark papacy, might actually be soon behind him. Copia relaxed back in his chair for a moment, admittedly irritated at the gentle ticking, but grateful nonetheless for this brief respite. The Ministry could be a tumultuous place, but for now, all was quiet, and he was ready. 
His door was open, and an assistant poked her head in. “My apologies, Your Eminence.. you have a phone call,” she said, gesturing towards the phone upon his current desk. He noticed a light blinking there. “Sister Imperator.”
Giving the girl a nod before she left, shutting the door behind her, he reached out for the receiver. “Pronto, eh… Hello?”
Sister’s voice a bit tinny over the antiquated line. “Cardinal. I trust you’re well?”
“Yes, Your Dark Excellency.” Imperator wouldn’t have called without a reason. “What’s this about?”
“I’m calling about the girl you’ve been tutoring.” The leather of his glove tightened more firmly around the receiver with an audible sound.
“What about her?” Imperator didn’t answer right away, and Copia felt a surge of something like a panic forming deep in his chest. “Sister—”
“Oh, she’s quite all right, Cardinal. Don’t worry, honestly.” Don’t worry…
“What—”
“She…” Her voice sounded pained, and he heard her take a little breath. “There was a fair bit of trouble up in the old cemetery today. Some kind of a transient was… bothering her and another girl. They’re a bit rattled, naturally… fought him off and ran. Nothing beyond a mere scuffle happened, they assured me, but…”
“I’ll be there shortly.” He could feel the blood rushing in his head, and he fought to remain calm.
“Your Eminence, you do understand what you’re meant to accomplish over there?”
“I do, Sister.” He let the weight of his decision hang for a moment. “I should be able to manage arriving back at the abbey… tomorrow at the latest.”
“The girl is perfectly fine here; a few abrasions… I only thought you’d like to know as a courtesy. Considering the time you’ve spent together.”
A few… abrasions. “Please expect me tomorrow, Sister. Thank you.”
“Cardinal.”
“Yes?” The word came out heavy with concealed rage.
“She is perhaps not perfectly fine. If I’m being honest with you.”
He hung up the receiver without another word, and he watched his hand shake, threatening to splinter the plastic. Taking a steely breath, he extricated his fingers from the thing, and then he methodically began to pack up his desk. As he worked, measured and silent beneath it, the soft and steady ticking of the clock on the wall threatened to drive him insane; a horrible reminder of how far he was from her. This was hell, truly; right here in the passionlessly beating heart of the Satanic Ministry. Copia gulped, fighting the hot fury rising inside him, the urge to retch out the pit of ice settling in his stomach. He wouldn't waste any time; he would not give in to his inner torment here. How was she faring with her own?
When he was done, he reached out for the phone again, his hand now steady.
“I want a car waiting for me downstairs. Ten minutes.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On his way down the hall to her room he bumped into Terzo, exiting his papal chambers.
“How is Mouse?” Copia queried, without thinking.
“Who?”
“The girl!” he snapped, ready to lose it.
“Shhh…” Terzo was carefully shutting his door, “Sophie’s still sleeping…”
“The other girl! I hear she’s injured? Why aren’t you with her?”
“I only have one dick, Cardinal.”
Copia pondered on how exactly his life would change if he snapped Terzo’s neck right there in the hall. 
Terzo chuckled for a second at his seething expression, before getting serious again. “She’s got a nasty scrape on her head, poor thing. I tucked her in earlier, no fucking involved, Cardinal… She’s resting, says she’s fine, but…” Terzo frowned further. “She’s quite shaken up, I believe, contrary to what she’ll tell you.”
Not bothering to converse any further, Copia continued on down the hall. When he finally reached the door to her dear little room he paused for a second, gathering his scattered thoughts. 
It was darkening inside, and he let his eyes adjust for a moment, though it was hardly needed. He knew the room well; how many times had he let himself in here, just to look upon her? How many times had he done much more than look? 
She lay on the bed, curled up in a fretful slumber, and the icy rage he had carried all the way here to lay at her feet began to melt at the piteous sight of her. His poor sweet Mouse! 
Reaching out, he arranged her blanket a bit more snugly around her, and he noticed then what she was clutching in her fingers; a swathe of red that left his swelling heart bleeding. He lay down beside her. 
He wanted to hold her close, desperately, but he would not yet allow himself that gift. She needed to sleep; she needed to be safe. She needed to be loved. And for all the ways he had failed her, he could at least do that, effortlessly and beyond severe. He would love her beyond his last breath, he thought, watching over her precious ones, her fragile chest rising and falling softly.
After some time, he noticed her begin to stir, and eventually she reached out for her light. 
“Dolce,” he said, gently. She whirled around, and the look in her dewy eyes at the sight of him made him want to weep. 
Finally, he held her. 
link to ao3
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peter
"Preserved from when we were just kids" "The goddess of timing Once found us beguiling"
The first part, they were 18 and 22 when they first got together and during the beginning of their relationship and "beguiling" means enchanting/charming - and the World was enchanted by them when they were together (aside from the haters) and then even while they were off and on over the years, he was always the one that she said would come in and out of her life and they'd "never be over", all which still fits with that beguiling line.
"I thought it was just goodbye for now"
"You said you were gonna grow up Then you were gonna come find me"
This is NOT giving me Matty vibes at all and I'll die on that hill. Again, 18 and 22 fits here more than 24 and 25. Sure, you're still growing at 24/25 don't get me wrong but, Matty was very much not saying "I'm going to grow up and come find you one day" at 25 years old in the height of his addiction and during his "I can't be with someone bigger than me because I want success on my own". This is giving "I was 18 when we got together and I need to figure my shit out but, one day we'll be together when I do". This also fits her saying he was always in and out of her life. She's been waiting for him to grow up and come find her again.
"But life was always easier on you Than it was on me"
She got way more hate during their relationship than he did, as she mentions in Slut! On top of the fact, he dated/had flings with many women back to back and never got shit for it but, she dates men back to back and gets hated for it. Granted, that could fit just about any male if we're honest but, she specifically wrote Slut! about Harry so.
"When crossing your jet stream We both did the best we could do Underneath the same moon In different galaxies"
This is giving me very much "we were constantly traveling for work and maybe my jet would cross over yours and we'd end up in the same place and try to make it work and then again when we were so far away from each other". It's also interesting that this album has quite a bit of talk about galaxies/aliens/moons and then circus/con men etc. when the last two MVS we got from Harry were "Satellite" and "Daylight" - Satellite which has the imagery of the sky/galaxy and saying he's waiting for her and then we have "Daylight" which is a circus theme MV.
"And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned"
Here she's saying she dated other men during their time apart but, she was always still waiting for him to return to her and tell her he's grown up, figured out what he wanted, and that it's her.I also get the vibe she mentions men specifically because she was talking about him still being a "boy", so she dated men waiting for him - Calvin/Tom because they were her age range and they were "masquerading" as her boyfriend.
"And you said you'd come and get me, but you were twenty-five And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired"
This specific line is what has everyone thinking Matty but, they MET when he was 25. He was not laying all these promises out to her then and that's not what this line is saying to me. It's saying that the muse made all these promises to her BEFORE he turned 25 and then they saw each other again when he was 25 - he told her "I made those as a kid, they've expired now that we're older, they were just fantasies". Harry was 25 when he released Fine Line and when they saw each other at Ed's wedding. My guess is that was the first time they'd seen each other in a while and there was a talk that night and he might've said something along those lines or she took it that way.
All of this to also say the obvious ties of "Peter" and this song bringing the Peter Pan imagery and then "Peter Losing Wendy" reference in "Cardigan" which is obviously about Harry Styles. The fact people want to connect that with Matty now because they think this song is Matty is wild. Matty was not that young when they met, 25 is still a grown ass adult. Technically Harry was 17 when he met Taylor and who knows if they actually dated before he turned 18 or not. But James in Cardigan acts like a 17/18 year old Harry probably would've acted vs a 25 year old man. And even IF Matty and Taylor had a thing back then, it was an incredibly quick fling. Sleeping together and maybe a few dates but, they were definitely never in a relationship. She did not write Cardigan about a short fling.
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yuugen-benni · 15 hours
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Recently you've developed a crush on Tighnari, the best student in science, particularly excelling in biology. You admired him for his knowledge and the way he easily gained, and demanded, people's respect.
It was at the beginning of the first school quarter, passing through the corridors after class and noticing that he was still there, in the much-hated laboratory. What was so good about it? Tighnari studied, researched, and became increasingly filled with curiosity about what he loved so much, Nature. The flower on the bench, the afternoon sun passing through the window, and there he was, looking through a microscope at the carefully removed petal. From there, the desire to observe him came like a wave.
In the second quarter, interested in the fox boy - his closest friends had called him that since he was little, a reference, or a joke, about his solitary habits, although he disagreed - the investigation began, you wondered if you were almost crossing the line or seeming like a stalker… but let's be honest, who has never tried to find out more about a certain person on their own? That was the fun part. In PE classes, he hardly participated; the heat was too much for him; his ears were sensitive! So, it was possible to notice how much he hated the noise in the cafeteria; surprisingly, his circle of friends was large, although his main group was composed of the three smartest students in different subjects, perhaps smart people understand each other.
By the third quarter, you were getting a little desperate. Six months had passed, and you hadn't even spoken to him without having a class to bring you together. One of the available resources was his friends mentioned briefly, Kaveh - the boy from the art class, the friendliest among them - was a good choice. It was like talking to a friend, an advisor who occasionally humiliates you.
Still, your heart was racing with fear until one day, not even knowing what you were thinking, you found yourself in the laboratory - he had stepped out for a few minutes - planning only to leave a sunflower on his desk. It was only seconds, but then…
"What are you doing here?" Tighnari's voice sounds a little suspicious due to your presence, his arms crossed as you turn around, looking surprised. "Did you touch anything ? If..."
"I just wanted to give you this!" You interrupt
Tighnari falls silent for a few seconds, his eyes locked on the flower in your hands. "Helianthus occidentalis…" He says in a low voice, but loud enough to be heard.
"What?" You ask, confused. "Um… I think it's a sunflower." His silence sets in for the second time, and then he laughs, making you feel silly but with butterflies in your stomach. "If you intend to give someone a flower, then at least know a little more about it," Tighnari approaches, delicately picking it up and examining its stem and petals. "They're not typical of here… where did you find them? Were you wanting to know about them?" He doesn't look away from the flower for a second.
"In fact, I bought it…" But then he stops and glances at your face. He's not stupid and certainly not oblivious. Of course, a flower doesn't mean anything, but when bought for this reason, it has a meaning beyond the ordinary.
''For me, I see...''
He didn't seem embarrassed, much less hesitant. His gaze turns to the flower, and then he sighs. "There's a café around the corner. Of course, we can go to the school cafeteria; it's still open, but…"
"It's too noisy for you," you cut in, almost completing his sentence. Tighnari's mouth was left slightly open, and then he sighed again with a stubborn smile.
"You did your research well."
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flubnuggetpurple · 1 day
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Dove Cameron’s Alchemical album is so fucking bat coded I feel like a conspiracy theorist.
(This went off the rails at one point, so WARNING: vague mentions of sexual assault and being drugged without consent)
First song: Lethal Woman.
Cass, all over, right? The bridge is “she walks like a saint, floats like an angel, sharp like a knife under the table”
c o m e o n
Second song: Still.
“Man on the screen, they only see whatever you want them to see” and “Supernova self-erasing, hourglass is always draining”
Could be either Tim or Bruce, but I lean toward Tim because of “how dare you, dare me to love you, if you jump I will too” because whenever Tim decides he loves someone, he’s the ride or die, ends of the earth type, even if they don’t even know who he is. A) how and why he became Robin in the first place, B) The Cloning Thing, C) an argument could be made for the Captain Boomerang thing (but now that I think of it, I think I’m mostly basing this off fanon oh well ontotgenextone).
Song Three: Breakfast.
I will admit out the gate that this one’s a reach, so I’m just going to leave Selina here.
Song Four: Sand.
For this I’m thinking Tim or Jason, for different reasons.
For Tim;
“I saw the end when we began, you couldn’t love the way I can, I tried to bargain with the stars, for more than half your heart but you have more pieces of me than the dessert has sand, and I have less pieces of you than I could hold in my hand” and “our love’s misaligned, ‘cause you’re on my mind every night, I stretch out the time, and now I know why.”
I’m just making it obvious I read the Red Robin run, aren’t I?
For Jason:
“What's worse, being wanted but not loved, or loved but not wanted? What's worse, hearing what you wanna hear, or hearing what's honest?” And “What hurts, is the one thing that you wanna do, is the one thing that you shouldn’t do”
Pre-death Jason, but like, right after the Garzonas thing.
Song five: White Glove.
Okay hear me out.
This is part one of the Dick Grayson saga; the persona he shows to the public. This is Richie Wayne. This is every honeypot mission he went on too young, every woman he’s had to seduce for information (it’s one hundred percent happened before don’t fight me) every source of sexual trauma (that one I’m ninety percent sure is canon) that keeps him up at night.
And this guy’s been a vigilante for over twenty years, he can absolutely recognize drugs by sight, smell, and how they feel when he’s too late to notice something slipped in his drink. He’s felt nearly every strain of fear toxin and every one of Ivy’s pollens. If anyone knows their drugs it’s pretty boy Richie Wayne and Robin.
Song six: God’s Game
This one I’m definitely taking some lines out of context, but for Jason, “Just a boy with a man's face, playin' God's game” is when he’s taking over Crime Alley, pit-mad and trigger happy. “I prepare with so much care, I was runnin', it was stunnin', I am desperate from delusions, not much of a solution, never knowin' what the truth is, oh, God” is when hid plans start to fall apart, when Bruce slits his throat with a batarang, when eventually the pit-madness eventually starts to wear off and he realizes what all he did to Tim, who was a child at the time, not to mention Robin.
He nearly became what the Joker was to him to the next Robin, and I feel like at some point that would occur to him.
Song seven: Boyfriend.
(…Admittedly, I don’t think this one has any grounding in canon and if it does, feel free to educate me.)
So, obviously I could mention Kate Kane at this point, but I know basically nothing about her, so instead I’m going to talk about Steph.
So Steph has definitely had some shitty experiences with guys, right? Like, her dad to begin with, but also the guy who got her pregnant (at like fourteen? Maybe I’m just sheltered, but I don’t think anything about that relationship was heathy—again, I haven’t read many of the comics, so correct me if I’m wrong), then Tim, which, I love him as a character, but didn’t he date her in the mask for like, months, and I have some vague recollections of some dickish things he said (i know i know i need to read more comics)—whatever. Men are shitty.
I have a scene in my head. Like, Steph’s in college, at a bar with friends or something, maybe it’s an under cover op, idk, and there’s this girl she’s been lowkey watching all night. She doesn’t quite know why, but she just keeps catching her eye, and okay, it’s not like she’s never questioned her sexuality, she knows Cass. There have been Extensive conversations with Babs on the subject.
Anyway, so at some point, there’s obviously some sort of argument between the girl and the guy she came with and the girl’s crying, and Steph just Can’t Handle That.
She goes up to her, comforts her, makes a new friend, listens to the whole story.
And at some point, she has the thought.
“I could be a better boyfriend than him.”
She doesn’t necessarily do anything about it that night, but now that she’s had the thought, it won’t leave her alone.
Yeah. So. Maybe I’ll write that story later.
Song eight (last song): FRAGILE THINGS.
Dick Grayson part two; So your mentor (dad) just died, leaving you an angry murder child, another one hanging on by a thread after losing eighty percent of his support system, a grieving butler (grandfather), and a mantle the size of the Most Dangerous City in America. Any direction you move is going to hurt someone, and one kid is more likely to snap and murder people than the other, and hey, if you have to be Batman anyway, might as well let your brilliant kid brother be Nightwing, right? Except, whoops, you forgot to mention that last part and now Timmy thinks you just replaced him without telling him and fuck you knew you were forgetting something and now there’s a goddamned imposter Bruce and—
“Love is like a house of fragile things, where hearts can be broken as easy as antiques, and now there’s glass all shattered at my feet, what we built together, you left in smithereens.”
Anyway. This got kind of incoherent (or maybe it was from the start?)
I accidentally added a poll at the bottom and can’t figure out how to remove it, so.
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wolven91 · 17 hours
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Drifting - Part 11
“I am not one for politics. They make my scales itch.” Bemoaned Zeet as he walked ahead of Qik and Casper. His mobile platform moved and wandered without input from him as he stood upon it, grimacing at the two larger creatures. They had just left the boardroom where Casper had potentially just signed his body away if this went wrong. 
“I would have thought we would have got more usable data from you by informing you and letting you just *work* with us.” The blue geckin continued, musing out aloud. Casper couldn’t help but grin widely, pleased by the geckin’s seemingly honest distaste for the situation. 
Zeet was an engineer. A nerd. A geek, through and through. He cared about the machines he designed and made. The plots and schemes of others mattered little to him as long as they didn’t cross his wants and desires to improve on his designs. The geckin made an odd croaking throat noise. Casper spoke up.
“Let them work themselves into an early shed then, me and you are going to make a mech that’ll go down in history.” The young man offered, hoping to caress the geckin’s ego.
Qik grinned as well as he did when he blatantly hit his mark perfectly. 
“You think?! Oh! Oh ho ho ho! Just think! First ‘no drift’ pilot in one of *my* machines making headlines. But we need you to succeed. Fame goes both ways, ah?” Zeet pointed out, before adopting a focused look, crossing his arms and touching a finger to his mouth. The two far larger creatures shared a glance as both of them felt themselves disappear to the geckin’s perspective. 
“You’ll need survivability…” Zeet mumbled to him. “Heavy is always best for survivability, but it means taking the hits. Your agility shouldn’t be slept on. Light is just as good, if you don’t get hit.” The geckin snapped his head around to Casper.
“You stopped getting hit all the time?” The tiny creature demanded.
“What do you mean ‘all the time’? She got me *once*!” Casper shot back, thrusting a thumb sideways at Qik who remained silent, although her strut became more pronounced as they discussed her ‘perfect’ kill shot.
Zeet merely grinned at Casper and he was reminded that a grin from a geckin was *not* the same as a human grinning. Zeet was admonishing the human, not sharing in a joke.
“Once was enough. If we capitalise on your speed, you will be light, but weak; you will not survive errant hits! Anything above superficial damage could disable your points or even your whole rig if it’s a bad hit!” The geckin hissed. 
“I was showboating.” Admitted Casper. “I let my guard down. My fault. I won’t jeopardise your work again.” The human spoke seriously and with respect at the older engineer who squinted at him as the walking platform approached a door that slid aside without hesitation. The geckin waved a hand, dismissing the thought, seemingly satisfied with Casper’s devoted tone.
The group entered a room that was quite obviously Zeet’s workshop. Ignoring that it looked down on a hanger bay with a skeleton of a rig hanging in the centre, as Casper looked around the room, he learnt of Zeet’s personality. Messy, but devoted.
Mech and rig designs covered an entire wall which was dominated as a workboard. Pens, stylises and measuring tools were scattered everywhere. A large 3D printer squatted in one corner and was covered in tiny, intricate models of various shapes and sizes. Some were of arms and legs of disembodied mechs, and others were tiny replicas of the whole thing.
“Huh… I think you’d get along with some of us humans.” Casper mentioned, crouching to observe the intricate details of one particular model. It was beautifully designed all the way down to sleek lines showing where the various bolts would connect armour plates together.
“After yourself, I would very much like to meet more humans. I suspect if I could get my claws into one that had a history in mech design, fictional or not, we might share ideas…” Zeet offered before clapping his hands and holding them out in front of him, pointing his claws at Casper, drawing attention to himself.
“*But!* We need to design you a machine that will put us both in the history books and… *Not* leave you at the hands of the XixTech corpo-nation.” Declared Zeet, Casper nodding along until his brain caught up to the sentence.
“Wait… ‘Corpo-Nation’?” He asked, standing up again.
“Mm, they represent the eastern continental landmass on Bok. Our homeworld. They are their government representatives.” Explained Zeet matter-of-factly. Casper merely blinked, once again reminded this was not kansas. 
“Jesus… Yeah, let's not get dropped into that mess.” The young man agreed, already feeling his head spin. Qik settled herself, leaning against a wall, arms crossed as was her usual stance. Casper sat against the window frame with his back to the hanger below.
“So!” Zeet began. “Torso, Head, Arms, Legs and a Spinal mount. These are your rig’s modifiable options.” Zeet explained, turning to open a large cabinet where he produced three glasses. One tiny, the other two perfectly sized for Casper and Qik. The human glanced at the bottle of dark liquid, then to Qik who touched a long finger against her lips. She didn’t want him to ruin this. 
Zeet poured three healthy portions before taking a sip and giving a satisfied sigh, then continuing. 
“I already know what I’m doing for your chest, you don’t get a vote there.” He explained, swiping his hand through the air. Qik cleared her throat as she leaned in to pick up a spare glass.
“What’s your idea?” She asked calmly, seemingly trusting his good sense. 
“Maximum output. Heavier as an option, more so than an ultralight, but I think the way he modifies his output, it’ll be worth it.” Zeet explained, swirling the glass.
“I modify my output? What do you mean?” Casper asked, frowning somewhat. This apparently was an odd question. 
“Wha- My boy… You… It’s not a conscious decision? To pulse your power generation?” Zeet asked, seemingly very confused. Casper pulled a face and shrugged before reaching over and picking up the third and final glass. Taking a sip, it was like paint stripper with a smokey burn afterwards.
“Your power generation is not efficient, or it shouldn’t be! Your reactors ‘pulse’ instead of giving out a steady or constant amount. We thought it was a fault at first until the second and third time it happened. Every rig you hop in, it pulses.” Zeet explained shrugging his arms in defeated confusion, nearly, but not quite spilling his drink.
“Is it dangerous?” Qik asked, narrowing her eyes, but sipping at her own glass, it looked comically small in her hands. Zeet shook his head, sipping at his drink, a tiny red tongue dabbing at the murky liquid. 
“I don’t think so, although it was far, far faster when you took that hit.” The geckin conceded, pointing a finger over the rim of his glass. 
“Was it like a heartbeat?” Asked Casper, following a hunch. Zeet shook his head again, the corners of his mouth pulling up as if Casper had asked the same question as him.
“No. We thought so too, but it was too slow.” The geckin dismissed, looking into his glass with a contemplative frown. Unconvinced, Casper waited a second, considering what it could have been before getting an idea. Without speaking, Casper knocked his knuckles against the wall he was leaning on. Thump thump. Pause. Thump thump. Pause. The reaction was immediate, the engineer's feet jumping up in unison and briefly leaving the walking platform he stood upon as he pointed and did briefly spill his drink this time. . 
“Yes! That! That’s it! Two pulses and a pause. We racked our brains trying to figure that out!”
Casper merely smiled knowingly, closing his eyes and opening them again before speaking, pleased to have an answer for the older geckin.
“That’s *my* heartbeat Zeet.” Tapping his chest with his glass. ”Bigger heart, slower rhythm.” The young man explained. The tiny geckin stood there, motionless for a time. Before closing his eyes and placing his own drink down on the table.
“Your heartbeat. *Your*! Heartbeat. Argh! Rocks in my brain! Terminal rocks!” Zeet exclaimed, causing both Casper and Qik to grin as an apparent mystery was solved for him. The poor geek looked genuinely annoyed as he glared at the ceiling.
“So it’s not an issue?” Asked Qik.
“Huh! Hardly. It means he doesn’t run hot, but has access to power when he needs it. Works well with the rest of my plans.”
“Go on, you’ve ideas, I’m listening.” Casper said, grimacing as he slugged another mouthful of the drink down. It seemed to burn less with the third gulp. 
“Chest we go for power. Your spine mount, I suggest an advanced booster. It does mean you’re more vulnerable. One hit to your back and you’ve lost your main defence; not being where they fired at.” The geckin suggested, shrugging with the admission. 
“I mean if we’re engaging at range, I can move out of the way of the rounds, right?” Casper offered, looking to Qik for confirmation. She pulled a face and shook her head, her ears flopping with the movement. 
“Two problems with that; unreliable reactions and no one uses slug rounds anymore.” She explained. Casper frowned, specifically remembering a fairly solid round tearing through his chest not less than 24 hours ago. 
“What do you mean? The geckins do?” He pointed out, rudely pointing at Zeet who could care less as he tilted his head back, finishing off his own glass. He spoke next, pulling Casper’s attention. 
“We’re an exception, not a rule. The ursidains also use solid projectiles, but only when they’re firing a heavy hitter. Energy weapons are the name of the game these days. Most see solid projectiles as ‘old’, in the sense of ‘museum piece’ old.” Zeet offered honestly. 
Casper thought that was strange, solid projectiles were reliable, but this wasn’t his world. This was a galaxy in a vastly different period of their history than Earth was. He shook his head to clear his mind. 
“Okay fine, keep mobile. What about arms and legs? What about weapons?” He pressed, almost looking forward to hearing what toys Zeet was offering. 
“Legs wise, again, I’d go for speed. Extra vents for additional jet exhausts. Rather than running, you’ll end up ‘skating’ around the enemy. Good luck keeping up with you. You’ll need it too.” Zeet offered.
“Are the enemies quick?” Casper asked. 
“Fairly. Spider-Technicals.” Qik responded. 
“What are they?”
“Heavy armour, focused laser beam for their main cannon. Prolonged targeting will thermal shock the armour that gets hit, burrowing through whatever it's shooting at. The tanks are mobile, capable of keeping line of sight on their target and climbing up and around buildings to do so. The intention is to have a small army of them and they just overwhelm any target that approaches.” The lopel explained, polishing off her own glass and gesturing with her hands, as if she were spreading a model army out in front of her.
“So keep circling them?” Casper suggested.
“And they’ll have to track you. We keep you light and mobile, they focus on you…” Qik went on, trailing off to allow Casper to finish the thought. 
“...And you take them out while their back is turned.” The young man concluded, nodding at the idea. He could be bait, he didn’t even have to fight. Just wave his arms in the air and keep their attention. 
“He’s a fast learner.” Zeet pointed out, nodding to Casper but looking to Qik. She merely grinned and returned to her ‘arms crossed’ posture, smugness radiating off her.
“Thanks to his teacher.” 
Zeet was less than sure. 
“Mm. Sure.” He blinked slowly and turned his head back to the huma before opening them again. “Arms wise, we have options.“
“I did consider a plasma thrower, but it's heavy and drains a lot of power during charge up. Good against another mech, less so for tanks. We have similar options like sniper beams, but same thing. Line of sight and you’d need to be still.”
“So what would you suggest?”
“If we are going with this plan, we should actually keep you lightly armed. How do you feel about a solid sword?”
“Solid? But what about my lightsaber!”
“No, too draining. If we’re keeping you as fast as we intend, we need you using 100% of your reactor’s output. A solid sword, atomised edge, you’ll still be dangerous. Lightweight metal, no drain on your resources, there's no downsides besides no range. But that's not an issue this time.”
“Atomised edge?” Casper asked, just checking for clarification. Zeet nodded and hastened to explain before moving on. 
“An edge a few atoms thick. Blunts faster, but realistically, this is a blitz, you’re not going to be out there long enough to need to worry about that.”
“What could I cut through?”
“Anything with enough force behind your swing. Do *not* touch the edge with any part of yourself.” The geckin demanded with a serious tone and an accusing finger. Casper held his hands up in mock surrender. 
“Yes sir.”
Zeet merely nodded. Qik remained quietly thinking as she scratched her own chin.
“So, speed, speed, speed?” Casper summarised.
“Quite so. Qik, I trust you will just select your weapons as normal?” Zeet asked, turning to the lopel as he sat himself in a chair. The merc merely nodded and lay her palm up as if presenting her idea.
“I’m going for a swarm missile rig. If it’s just technicals, I don’t need anything else.” She explained with a carless shrug. 
“Swarm missile?” Casper prodded. 
“Line of sight lock on, you fire the swarm and they fire up into the air before raining down on the tanks. Doesn’t matter if they’re crawling on or around buildings. They’ll punch through their armour. The downside is I need to see them to lock on, which sucks when LOS works both ways.” Qik went on, but then leaned forward to emphasize her words. . 
“Buuut…” She drawled. 
“But if they’re looking at me, that doesn’t matter.” Casper replied, grinning back at the lopel. She held his gaze a moment longer than needed before straightening and giving him her approval. 
“Attaboy.”
Casper considered his options, and turned back to Zeet. 
“So a sword? Nothing else?” He asked. 
Zeet, his hands on his head, turned the chair to face the larger human. 
“Did you have something else in mind?”
[r/WolvensStories]
[Ko-Fi]
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designernishiki · 9 months
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it’s kinda funny to me how that dumb scene in kiwami 1 of majima getting shot and left for dead in the harbor was basically just added as a half-assed way to explain majima not being around for a bit of the plot, but they accidentally(?) just made it seem like start of a chain reaction where majima ended up feeling slighted and heartbroken after being abandoned like that and then lashed out about it via smashing a big truck into the building kiryu was in. and yeah that isn’t inherently a romantic thing as-is but then they go and add the part where majima grabs a hostess and performatively hits on her as in-kiryu’s-face as possible, she says she’s already in love with someone, and majima lets her go immediately, no questions asked, making a big fucking point of it just to say see THAT kiryu? I appreciate when people are HONEST about their FEELINGS. people who won’t just BACKSTAB someone who CARES about them to save themselves. is that so crazy kiryu?? huh??? anyway make it up to me get down here and fight me right fucking now
#I think on another level he was sorta saying like ‘hey kiryu. you’re making it extremely clear that you don’t trust me and my intentions#and I’ve been trying to show you- over and over again- that I’d do just about anything for you and your safety#but I can’t just let my mask fall off in front of everyone- I need to keep up the unpredictable morally grey wildcard act for both my sake#AND yours. because disguising my helping you as crazy random violent outbursts and weird stalker behavior#is the only way I CAN help you. do you think it would go over well with shimano or literally anyone else if I was outright helping you out#of the kindness of my heart and fondness for you? stop being so fucking dense and look past the crazy wacky nonsense for a second and#maybe you’ll realize that all I do at the end of the day- really- is help you and put my own life and reputation on the line for you.#I am an honest guy when it comes to my real values and when I told you I wouldn’t let anyone kill you unelss it was myself- I meant it.#I’ve taken a knife and a bullet for you now. can you REALLY not see through the act yet? am I REALLY that unpredictable when you think about#it?’#that was a longer explanation than i intended but. it was difficult to put into words#I basically feel like it could be read as him implying kiryu shouldn’t backstab the people who put themselves on the line to help him#and/or pointing out that he’s never actually done kiryu dirty and has stuck to his word protecting him in the ways he can#trying to say yeah all this is a crazy act and all but when it comes down to it you Can trust me#it really makes sense when you think about it that he’d have to help kiryu/show affection towards kiryu in unpredictable convoluted ways#at that point in time because. I mean. there’s a reason he was the only person who showed up to welcome kiryu when he got out of prison#and that’s because A) he sticks to his word and his loyalty to people he cares about and B) no one else had the balls or the batshit insane#mask to wear to ward off anyone asking real questions like majima did. because ANYONE associating themselves with the supposed#patriarch-killer was a HUGE NO-NO at the time. someone important showing up for kiryu and welcoming him back outright could’ve caused#all-out warfare probably. except majima. because majima was dedicated and smart enough to use his widely-feared wildcard persona#(that everyone tended to view as incapable of having any Real agenda to worry about) to his And kiryu’s advantage#does that make sense??? I feel like it makes a lot of sense if you get it to click in your head#kazumaji#majima#kiryu#yakuza#kiwami 1#yk1#rambling
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oop oc concept posting! this bad bitch is for an original story of mine - the main characters are all from different "genres", and i needed One More to round out the group and well. puppet-y guy fit the bill! i can't decide on a name!
she's from a children's show that had a western themed rock group that would provide lessons through the power of Music! she was the band guitarist until she fuckin. fell into the labyrinth & got corrupted by her found family of idiot assholes
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reineydraws · 29 days
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Saw your Mishanks bodyswap art! Very cute and fun! (Mihawk with a genuine smile on his face so so fun)
I imagine Shanks whould have trouble fighting in Mihawk's body at first since it's been years since he's had two arms
yes absolutely, i imagine that too! conversely, i think mihawk would have a little bit of trouble adjusting his balance and reach with a body missing one arm, as well. it's interesting to think about how they both would be forced to change their fighting style, and whether or not they would exchange swords.
mihawk's been seen using yoru with just one hand so he could probably pull it off with shanks's body. also interesting to think about shanks tripping up on having two arms until he naturally slips into his old fighting style again--or would he? because there's also the question of muscle memory, right? would mihawk's body automatically do things that shanks isn't predisposed to doing, and vice versa?
the other thing i find intriguing about body swapping in one piece is the question of whether or not your haki powers would switch as well. they say haki is spiritual presence, so presumably your haki switches if your spirits switch, but if it's the kind of spirit that's tethered to the presence of the body? then consider mihawk having the strongest conqueror's haki out on the blues, or shanks being able to use observation haki at mihawk's level, practically being able to predict the future--or mihawk, able to counter with shanks's haki-kill technique. food for thought!
#rei replies#one piece#mishanks body swap au#mishanks#akataka#dracule mihawk#shanks#akagami no shanks#red haired shanks#re: the genuine smiling#i also like to think shanks in mihawk's body would have this moment where he realizes his cheeks ache from all the smiling he's doing lol#bc mihawk's facial muscles arent used to doing it#and when they switch back shanks teases mihawk about it ('you exercise so many of your muscles hawky but your cheeks? they're weak!')#and he manages to get a smile out of mihawk that's mihawk's version of a genuine smile and it's softer and less wide but it's honest#and oh shanks is soooooo in love with him hahaha#BY THE WAY ALSO I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS OMG but in this body-swapped au mihawk-as-shanks would 100% shave for shanks#like hell is he gonna let shanks grow *stubble* on *his* face. dracule mihawk with STUBBLE? banish the thought!!!!!!#but shanks doesnt do it up to his standards so there's totally a scene where mihawk and shanks are body swapped in the bathroom#and mihawk is standing too close and shaving his lil pointy sideburns and mustache onto shanks's face#and shanks is having a crisis because that's his own face breathing too close and waaaay to intimately but that look of concentration#is ALL mihawk. shanks can practically his eyes--so familiar from the mirror and wrinkled with laugh lines--glow yellow with how#much mihawk looks like himself right now even in shanks's body.#it's all very strange. shanks has been attracted to mihawk for a long time but it's just blatantly unfair that the first time in YEARS#theyre this close again and it's shanks's own body that he has to look at. on the upside he supposes all he needs to do to ogle#mihawk is to look down. pros and cons pros and cons.#(mihawk isnt having a crisis. mihawk is annoyed that hia beard is easier to do in first person it is to do in the third person.#surely not having to do it reflected in a mirror should be easier and yet for some reason everything feels off! ugh.)#i digress
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daily-hanamura · 6 months
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babisawyer · 1 year
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shauna being like jackie I really need you right now and then sobbing hysterically is literally me every week watching this friggin show.
#🐇#yellowjackets#the amount of homophobia this week.....far too much#where the fuck is kristen/crystal lmfao who has her#I also was totally shitting on all the therapy but then shauna's stuff was like a punch to the face so thank you lottie!!!#idk how many episodes are left but like....do you think that misty will confess to destroying the black box and then because lottie is#getting her visions again and things kinda seem like they're going towards a cannibal ritual direction that they'll hunt her to possibly#appease the antler queen/save van/fix the adam issue??#I'm getting the vibes heavily someone won't survive the main plot line and I think the van thing is too obvious#and the reddit thinks it's nat but they're literally never right about anything they said no one would actually care about the flight#recorder like tell that to dead kristen/crystal why the fuck would no one care about that?????#also so so amazed that it took this long for someone to get the shit beat out of them lmfao I thought that would've happened in the first#season and also I would've thought it would have been mari if I'm totally honest. like we're all thinking it#I'm also like really wondering if walter really is a cop or something or a PI tai hired or something idk there's something there#and like honestly I'm so bored of the two tai thing and the eyeless man like just explain it already I'm tired of waiting#I will say though so so funny the girls talking about how misty is insane and also hoping they can eat kristen/crystal
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coffeeandcalligraphy · 10 months
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something I find very intriguing about lonan & harrison is that in moth work/feeding habits, harrison thinks about/reflects on/worries about lonan SO much, and when he does, it’s constantly about the past, what they’ve already been to each other, etc (often romanticized). the same could be said in body back. this is kind of his fatal flaw!!! ON THE OTHER HAND lonan barely refers to harrison AT ALL in in MW/FH and now also in hallowed bodies, but when he does, it’s typically about their future together (which obviously doesn’t exist because they’re broken up). anywayyy very intriguing to me. 👀
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