#//idk if i did this right but here lol

[mechahero]

♡- DEAD I AM THE ONE, EXTERMINATING SON!

Hi! It's Mocha here with a little text post promo type of thing! This is an independent, semi selective OC blog featuring the world's most overpowered loser. Glitter pens, cute clothes, and guts are abound here with a guy that tends to be more slasher than superhero. (Blood, death, gore, cannibalism, and body horror are present here.)

. playlist ♡ rules ♡ divider credit .

[bixels]

I watched Starship Troopers tonight.

[storytellering]

Torn apart. Inspired by Romeo and Juliet by Sergio Cupido

[kaeyachi]

One of the probable reasons as to why Kaeya didn't arrive on time for Crepus and Diluc when they were attacked was because he, and the knights with him, had no vision, and thus, cannot use a teleport waypoint.

Him receiving his cryo vision when he was supposed to get scorched by Diluc was genuinely the biggest slap to the face given to him by Celestia. It arrived just in time to save HIM.

Even now, the vision only heals and shields him alone as a manifestation of his desire to keep living from that fight... but he can't use it to help others.

[drabsyo]

Curious: What about Werewolf Hermione & Fleur? Wolves and Veela are both Soul Mate Creatures - how would the 2 react in each other's presence & when Hermione is transformed?

anon you absolute genius, you had me at hello the potential of this au is *chefs kiss*

[fever-project]

Royal Pains of Uncertainty

@breannasfluff’s Finish the Prompt LU style - Angst

In bold is what Breanna wrote for the prompt. The rest is my own writing. I’m used to only writing in past tense so it was a fun challenge to write in present tense. Making Wild be a bit self-deprecating in this for the extra  layer of angst. Also a lot of repetition. And yelling. I am also not used to writing angst. Everyone makes up in the end because I cannot write sad endings for anything.

The crack of an open palm on a face has Wild whipping around. Legend clutches his cheek, already blooming red, and Hyrule lets his hand fall. His fists are balled to his side and his chest heaves. 

The two were in an argument before this that was rapidly growing more heated, but what could have led to this? Hyrule usually comes across as meek compared to the others on the Chain. 

Yet Legend is shrinking into himself, like something the traveler said hurt him more than the slap.

“What happened?” Wild asks as he joins them. What could Legend have done to make Hyrule so upset?

Hyrule opens his mouth to answer before shutting it in an instant. He huffs, clenching his hands even harder as he whips around, stomping off towards the edge of the camp.

“Hey, Hyrule-Link, Wait!” Wild shouts out,but Hyrule ignores him. The traveler sits down against a tree, burying his head in his knees, gripping them tightly.

Wild looks over at Legend, the pained look he had now gone, replaced with a blank stare as his hand lightly grazes his hurt cheek. Legend suddenly straightens up, looking off into the quarter distance. Wild thinks about reaching out to him, but his hand likely would’ve gotten slapped away anyways.

Legend inhales sharply and shakily, softly cupping his own cheek and walking silently towards the center of the camp. He sits down on one of the logs and buries his face in his hands.

Wild was now alone, a few mushrooms in hand. He was just scavenging for them, wanting to make something nice for the three of them. The others had gone out to investigate a nearby dungeon, the three of them staying behind to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. They all promised to make sure that nothing bad would happen between the three of them.

And look at what happened when Wild broke that promise. He’d just tuned the other two out when they started arguing, because it’s not like it would lead to anything big right? Wild was a fool. He knows this well. He’s the greatest fool out of the group, surely.

That didn’t make it so he couldn’t fix the mess he could’ve stopped, however.

Food is the key to heart, as they say, and Wild already has some mushrooms quite literally in his hands, so he should make food with it, like he planned to. He also happens to have some rock salt in his Sheikah Slate. Salt-grilled mushrooms it is then!

Walking over to the cooking pot that was thankfully already set up, Wild gets to work, humming all the while. He notices Legend looking at him over to his left from the nearby log, head slightly upturned and eyes peaking through his fingers. His eyes were red and wet, clearly having been crying. A lot. Crying so quietly that even the moss he was sitting upon couldn’t have heard him. A skill no one should have to master, yet there Legend was. Wild’s heart stung at the sight, so he gave the veteran a little wave and smile to cheer him up, even only slightly, but the veteran immediately hid his face again.

Wild sighs and turns back to his food. He was a fast cook and this was such a simple dish, so he was almost done already. Looking up and over to where Hyrule is, he was still in the same position, but his head was up and looking away from the camp. Was he crying as well? Quietly as well? Was it a skill well mastered between the two? What had happened between them? Before all of this even? Who was in the wrong and who was in the right? Why did they have to be crying so quietly?

Well, Wild was definitely in the wrong for not paying attention to the other heroes. That was on him. But what in Hylia’s good name are they even fighting about? It was frustrating for him, to not know what was going on between his friends. His crying, heartbroken friends.

But now it was food time.

“Heeeey there Leggy boy,” Wild coos out to his nearby comrade. Said comrade looks up at Wild in confusion, a vague effigy of a smirk on his face. “Wanna have some salty shrooms? That have been grrriiiled?” The oddness of Wild’s current way of speaking makes Legend smirk even more, which was the intended outcome. Sometimes, random is funny. Sometimes.

“Yeah,” Legend answers as his voice cracks, “That’s fine, thanks.”

“No problem friendo,” Wild gives Legend a nice, hot plate of salt-grilled mushrooms. He prepares a plate for himself and a plate for Hyrule. There was a little extra, still in the pot, which was all going down Wild’s throat, obviously.

Holding onto Hyrule’s plate, Wild stands up and calls out to the pouting Link. He knows he was pouting because when the traveler turned around, he was indeed pouting. Hyrule says nothing and does nothing after that. Just blinks blankly at him. With his red, wet eyes.

Wild tries to call out to Hyrule again, taking a few steps towards him, “Heya Rules, you what else rules?” No reaction. “Food! Want some salt-grilled mushrooms? They’re salty~”

Hyrule mumbles something back before looking away. This was going to be harder than he thought.

“Mister traveler,” Wild speaks in a singsongy voice, continuing to walk closer, “it’s eating time~. You need lots of food to grow big and strong~”

More mumbling from Hyrule. A bit louder this time, but Wild still has no idea what he’s saying. Wild groans. He gets even closer.

“I guess you just like acting like a big baby, don’t you?” Wild jokingly scoffs, “And here I thought you were an adult-“

“SHUT UP!” Hyrule screams, whipping his head around. His face is contorted with rage, glaring eyes seething with a rage Wild had never seen from his friend before. Directed at him before. The fury was short lived, Hyrule’s face almost immediately turning into one of regret. But the image was now burned into Wild’s mind, a clear, permanent picture.

Hyrule turns away from him again, the mumbled sorry I’m so sorry he repeats on and on reaching Wild’s ears. But Wild can’t get himself to say anything back. Opening and closing his mouth like a dying fish. A foolish fish that managed to beach himself on a single piece of sand in the middle of the ocean.

Wild’s face was hot. His hands hurt from how tightly he’s clutching what’s supposed to be Hyrule’s plate. Food, food’s the answer to everything. Yes, Wild just needed to make more food. He was the cook of the group. He’s the cook, yes. That’s what’s he good at, cooking, cooking food. The answer to everything. The key to the heart.

Wild walks back to the cooking pot. He sets the plate off to the side and eats his own food, both on his own plate and from the pot. It needs it to be empty after all, if he wanted to make more food. The mushrooms are good, but they were more salty than usual. He can’t see them that well, but that was okay. Food is the key to the heart, and healer of the soul. Wild continues to eat. He’s a quick eater. He’s finished in no time. He’s still hungry.

An angry shout erupted from the left of Wild. Legend throws himself off of the log, and as Wild rubbed his blurry eyes, he could still see the veteran’s furious face as clear as day. But he wasn’t angry at him, no, thankfully no. Legend stomps over to Hyrule, hunched slightly forward, hands clenched into fists. Hyrule shot up, a less angry look on his face, fear and unease filling in for where the rest of the anger would’ve gone.

“You’re a fucking jackass, you know that?” Legend spits at Hyrule, jabbing his finger into the traveler’s chest. Hyrule sputters, anger consuming the fear that had previously held its space.

“You’re the jackass here!” Hyrule shoots back, “You’re the one who started all of this!”

“You know what? Yeah, I did, I know that DAMN WELL!” Legend grips onto Hyrule’s tunic, “At least I wasn’t the one to make Wild CRY! YOU DID!” No, they can’t fight now, Wild didn’t get to make his food, his great food, the key to the soul food. Hyrule’s tearing up, Legend’s tearing up, it’s all Wild’s fault.

No.

No no no.

He can fix things. He was going to fix things.

With a soft, quiet voice, Wild starts to speak, “Al-“ his voice cracks, “Alright you two, break-“ he coughs, “-break it up.”

The two don’t hear him, it seems, as Hyrule begins to snap back. Wild doesn’t want to hear it. He can’t hear his friends be so angry at each and not even know why.

Hyrule shoves Legend away, hard. He stumbles back, surprise quickly being overtaken by even more anger. Hyrule starts to yell, “Well, YOU’RE a DAMNED asshole who-“

“BOTH OF YOU! SHUT! UP!” Wild screams, jumping up and accidentally snapping his wooden plate in half in his rage. It was fine, he had more plates. Sky’s okay with making more plates. Wild had no more patience for these two, however. His throat hurts. Yet he continues, “I am SICK! TIRED! Of the two of you acting like THIS!” The other two flinch in fear, their anger for each gone, albeit temporarily.

Wild was fixing things. Wasn’t he? He had to be, he’s going to fix things.

“Look, I don’t know what bullshit you two were spewing at each other, but can’t you two at least TRY to talk things out like GOSH. DAMN. REASONABLE PEOPLE?!” His throat hurts, his cheeks hurts, he was hurting. But not as much as his friends were hurting. He’s going to fix things.

“This isn’t cute, this isn’t a funny little hoo-ha, people are angry, people are sad, because you two! Who just…can’t be a degree of CALM! Do you understand what I’m saying? Do you?!”

They both nod, but they don’t seem to really understand. Wild is so very frustrated. He hates being so frustrated. He’s going to fix things. He has to.

“Alright, the both of you are going to sit down, right now.” The two shuffle in place, nervously unmoving. Why. Why are they like this? “You two don’t have to sit together, just sit the FUCK DOWN!” Now they rush to their seats, on logs opposite to each other, Legend to his left, Hyrule to his right.

Wild sighs, sitting down and rubbing his temples. He speaks in soft voice like before, so he wouldn’t hurt his throat any further, “I’m sorry for yelling at you two,” he looks at the both of them, who both refuse to look at each other, “And for being rude and mean to the both of you. I shouldn’t have done that, I just-I had felt like I wouldn’t be heard if I didn’t. I was worried someone would get hurt.” Hyrule recoils in on himself, hugging his knees in shame. No, he can’t let them get sad. Food. The key to the heart.

“Alright!” Wild claps his hands, “You pouting mcpout are going to eat your…” Wild looks up at the sky, deeming it to be almost nighttime, “…dinner. Yes, dinner. Leg’, did you finish you dinner?”

“N-no, I haven’t,” Legend responds in a similarly soft voice, “I’ll…I’ll do that now.”

“Good! Now Hyrule,” Wild shoves Hyrule’s plate at him, holding it in place until the traveler finally straightens up and takes it. “Make sure you eat up! And after this, you’ll get to have some cake! Carrot cake! Cake that’s made from carrots.” Wild gives them both a deranged smile as he happily waves his hands as he goes on about carrot cakes. He feels a bit loony right now, loony and tired. He’s not even sure why he suggested carrot cake, but that’s what he’s making now. Carrot cake.

Some Endura carrots, goat butter, cane sugar, and Tabantha wheat. For cake, carrot cake-

“I’m going ducking insane,” Wild groans, running his hands down his face.

“Ducking?” Legend scoffs lightly, a soft smile on his tear-stained face.

“I think I’ve sworn too much today,” Wild shifts into a thinking pose, “Swearing too much can devalue the feelings swearing can bring.”

“Philosophy’s fun,” Hyrule mumbles as he eats.

“Don’t talk with you mouth full huU-ugh, no, I can’t say that,” Wild says as he puts the ingredients into the pot, “I sound too much like a mom.”

“Yeah, you’re not Sky,” Legend teases. They all get a good laugh out of that. A long moment of silence occurs between the three of them after that. It’s not a bad silence, but it’s not really comfortable either. Nevertheless, Wild gets to cooking. He hums the same old tune he’d always hum. He doesn’t remember why this tune was the one he always defaulted to. Was it important to him before, all those years ago? Maybe once this is over, all of this is over, Zelda would tell him. But that was a long way aways from now. Now, he was making cake for his friends. Carrot cake. He wouldn’t be able to eat this cake for a while after this. Or probably any cakes. Or carrots.

“I think I’m starting to dislike c-words,” Wild mumbles aloud, “They’re making me loose my mind.”

“Do you...” Hyrule trails off a bit, plate almost empty now, “Do you want to make something else?”

“Nope. I’m making…this, and then we’re each going to eat a third of it cut into threes, and then you two will talk through you problems. Like adults.” The last word comes out harsher than he intended, but the two didn’t react much, Hyrule continues to eat his food and Legend sits politely, plate clean, awaiting cake.

Wild tries to empty his mind before he does something bad to the food before him.

Wild cheers when the cake is finally done. He makes grabby hands at his fellow heroes’ plates, much to their collective amusement. Legend gives him his plate first, receiving three slices of cake, as promised. Hyrule next, receiving his third of the cake.

“I would’ve given ya one slice at a time, but then I’d probably eat the rest of it,” Wild laughed, scratching the back of his head. Chuckles came from the other two, who then focus on their respective plates of foods. Wild focus on his. His stomach churns as he begrudgingly eats the slices, one by one, slower than he normally would. He still finishes far before the other two.

Wild rests his head on his knees, closing his eyes. The small fire underneath the pot encourages him to sleep. Fire always made him sleepy. But he couldn’t sleep yet, he needed to fix things.

No. He didn’t need to fix things. They had to fix things. The ones who were arguing. Wild can nudge and prod them all he wants, but only they could make things right with each other.

He slows his breath. He relaxes his limbs. He’s wide awake, but his friends don’t know that. To them, Wild’s sleeping soundly. He hears the sounds of wooden utensils cutting through the soft cake, scratching the wooden plate. Sounds of them chewing and swallowing food, of their shoes’ slight movements against the short grass, of the soft breeze that barely moves their hair. A few minutes pass before anyone speaks.

“Legend,” Hyrule speaks up, “I’m…I’m sorry.”

Legend inhales, sharply, before speaking back, “Don’t be. We both know I started this.”

“But still-“ Hyrule pauses after his volume starts to increase, and Wild feels his worried gaze cast upon him. Hyrule lowers his voice, “Still, I went too far. We both know this.”

“You didn’t go far enough,” the words tumbled out of Legend’s, a sharp inhale stopping more from coming out. A few more breaths, and he continues, “I shouldn’t have said you weren’t worthy of a throne.”

A throne? Wild doesn’t move, but he yearns to inch forward, to perk up his ears. But they don’t need him right now, he’s done enough.

“I don’t even know why I asked you that,” Hyrule sighs, “I just suddenly remembered something …and want to ask you about it I guess.”

“…What did you remember?”

“I…there’s something that Impa, my Impa said at the start of my second adventure,” Hyrule takes a deep breath, in and out, “she said her and her family have been ‘waiting for a great king to come’ for generations, to save Princess Zelda.”

“So you feel pressured to be that great king?”

“A bit, a bit yeah. I…know I’ll be a king, eventually. I uh, really like…Zelda.”

“Oh. Ah. Now is not the right time for teasing.”

“I can tell by your face that you really want to,” Hyrule giggles, “but yeah, that’s…why I was concerned about being a king.”

“And you came to me.”

“Well…I figured you’d know more than Wild,” very true, Wild knows nothing about this stuff, “so I wanted to ask you. Because I…trust you.”

A long silence passes between them. Wild wants to speak up, but he can’t. He’ll mess everything up if he does.

“You…” Legend starts, “No, no I shouldn’t say you shouldn’t trust me. That’s not my choice to decide.”

“…I still trust you, you know that?”

“…I trust you too.”

Another long silence. Happier now.

“I’m a prince,” Legend drops out of nowhere. Well it felt like it was out of nowhere, and Hyrule and Wild couldn’t stop themselves from yelling.

“What?!” The two shout in unison, Hyrule yelping at Wild.

“You-you’re awake?!” Legend asks, befuddled.

“Ha ha, yeah, barely,” Wild awkwardly smiles  at the other two, “Bold of you to assume I was asleep. You know I snore.” He only snores sometimes, but that wasn’t important. “Anyways, you’re a prince? How that happen?”

Legend looks over at Wild, then at Hyrule, back and forth a few times before sighing.

“Zelda’s my half sister,” Legend said plainly, “I know the trails, and the tribulations that royalty have to go through. I’ve been through some of those things, but I’m grateful that I don’t have to. I just-“ Legend huffs out a small sob, not quick enough at covering his mouth. Hyrule tries to reach out to him, but Wild stops him. He shakes his head softly, ‘not yet’ his eyes tell the traveler. He nods back, retracting his hand and they both await Legend’s next words with bated breath.

“I don’t want you to go through all that pain. And you know me, I’m snarky, I’m the mean, rude one, I’m not good at sentimentality,” Legend runs his hands through his hair, “That’s why I just-waved you off and got so angry when you kept insisting on being a king. I said a lot of hurtful things I clearly shouldn’t have. I’m sorry Hyrule, I really, really am.”

“It’s okay Legend,” Hyrule smile softly at him, “I forgive you. It’s okay you got angry, I understand why you got angry. I know I shouldn’t have gotten angry.”

“No no, you definitely deserved to be angry Rules-“

“I didn’t deserve to HIT you!” Hyrule shouts, throwing his hands up in the air before running them over his face, “I hit you, you never deserved that.”

To both the surprise of both Hyrule and Wild, Legend starts to laugh maniacally at this.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-it’s fine. Don’t worry about it Rulie,” Legend smiles at Hyrule.

“I think you’re downplaying this a bit,” Wild interrupts, to his own surprise, “Even if you don’t care, Hyrule here definitely does.”

“But it’s fine-“

“I don’t think it’s fine!” Hyrule also interrupts him, “We’re not supposed to hit each other because of things like this! You can say you forgive me or don’t-that’s okay, but don’t tell me not to worry about when you’rethe one who got hurt. You just don’t want me to worry about you!”

Legend looks surprised at this outburst, before laughing yet again. Calmer now, gentler.

“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want you to worry. I don’t like people having to worry about me, or having to worry about others.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Hyrule says in such a way that makes the other two laugh. He laughs too, whether or not he understands why doesn’t matter. “Are you feeling okay Legend, does it still hurt?”

“Of course not, I’m fine-“

“But are you reeeeaaallllyy fine?” Wild dramatically learns over to Legend, who snickers before playfully shoving Wild away.

“Yes, I’m fine, really. It doesn’t even sting anymore. Hyrule’s not that strong.”

“H-hey!” Hyrule’s cheeks turn pink as he pouts. They all laugh.

The tense atmosphere that was here before was now long gone. Things were back to the happy way they were before, with a few more lessons learned.

The stars smile at them as Wild pulls them all into a group hug.

[trashcreatyre]

Get these gay people OFF my screen >:/

[birdmenmanga]

A while ago I received a beautiful painting of Eishi in the mail from @kitsoa!! I've been meaning to post pictures of it but I so rarely have physical objects I wanted a proper photoshoot to do it justice <3

When I first saw this I was absolutely blown away by the colors. These magenta-maroon hues aren't ones I associate with urban cityscapes at all and yet it's beautiful and dreamlike. There are a lot of poignant moments of loneliness in this series and this piece really captures that feeling, in my opinion. I almost feel like crying when I look at it sometimes. Kitsoa just has a way with color I can never hope of coming close to; I often look at her artworks and think, "Ah, her brain's just wired in a fundamentally different way from mine." (NOT a lamentation btw-- I consider it a blessing that we are put on this earth to show each other pictures of that which the other could not conceive of)

I have it up on my wall with sticky tack (didn't want to put tape on the front in case it got damaged when I inevitably have to move away) and I look at it all the time. I love it so much!! Thank you!!

[darlingod]

I have an inkling Cardan accepted Locke as Master of Revels to lure Taryn to the palace so that her and Jude could reconcile. What do y’all think?

[ward-leon]

i wonder if the eldritch wardens ever get lonely

[kittlesandbugs]

FHR: Just a chat (AO3 link here) Pairing: Sidestep/Ricardo Ortega (hints of Chargentstep), Sidestep & Hollow Ground Warnings: None, they're just chatting lol Word Count: 1720 Summary: Ortega takes Sidestep to the park to get some fresh air after being cooped up with broken legs in his apartment for a couple weeks. When he steps away for a few minutes to take care of something, someone else swings by for a talk.

It's a peaceful day at Memorial Park. The sun is shining through the carefully maintained trees, dappling the green grass. The air is cool and calm, balmy even with your multiple layers. The birds are chirping around you and every so often, a squirrel darts by. The air is full of children's laughter as they play on the jungle gym. People are calm and content around you, enjoying the nice weather. 

You haven’t been this tense since the last time you were hauled into a lab and strapped down. 

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," you hiss at Ortega, sitting on the bench next to your wheelchair. 

He's lounging, at ease, though still alert. You see it the way his eyes roam around through the back of his sunglasses, watching everyone and everything around you. "Relax, Riley. Nothing is going to happen here," he chuckles. His hand starts towards your knee to give what you assume is supposed to be a reassuring pat before stopping and redirecting to your arm. You don't like it when anyone touches your casts. "You need some fresh air and sunlight once in a while. You were going crazy in the apartment."

"You could have at least waited for Argent to come over," you growl quietly. "Four eyes are better than two."

"We got four eyes. Hell, four hundred probably, if we count your telepathy." 

"Fine, four working legs." You roll your eyes at the pedantry. 

"We're in broad daylight in the good side of town, no one knows we're here. Relax." 

There's a little note of a plea in there that makes you sigh and nod. He is right, but you aren't going to tell him that. The chances of anyone coming after you in broad daylight on this side of town are almost nonexistent. And if they knew where you were, they would have gone for the significantly easier hit on Ortega's apartment by now. 

So you try. Take in some sun from the sky. Some sun from the carefree kids running past in a game of tag. As good for your brain as dogs, and they're here too. You sink into the padded chair and close your eyes, trying to focus on them rather than the itch of your healing bones that reminds you just how helpless you actually are. 

"Hey, wait here a moment," Ortega says after a few minutes of peace and quiet. You open your eyes to find him perched at the edge of the bench, eyes honed in on something. Your gaze follows but you can't make out who or what he sees at this distance. Are his sunglasses enhancing his vision? Probably, knowing him. You try to follow his line of sight with your telepathy, but what you find that might be getting his attention is strange. Foggy. Nebulous. It's difficult to latch on to any thoughts. Not blocking you like numbers, no, that's closer to the static of Ortega's brain. But someone that is definitely strange. Who is it? 

"Ric, what do you see?" you whisper harshly, the anxiety you felt earlier returning in full force like a hammer strike to your skull as he starts to rise, gesturing with his hand for you to stay put. Like you have a choice

"Just an old friend," he says, the cant of his lips saying the opposite. "I'll be right back. You're safe here."

And then he's off at a swift jog before you can protest, leaving you fumbling for the locked brakes you can't easily reach on the wheelchair handles. 

"Wait! You stupid fucking jackass—" 

"He is, isn't he?" A laugh behind you, and it takes all you have not to scream as a familiar lanky figure folds into Ortega's vacated seat. She's dressed in a finely woven linen jumpsuit, warm sepia with matching leather loafers, her gold piercings sparkling in the dappled sunlight. Her too similar face looks at you with a too similar crooked smile. 

Hollow Ground. 

How the fuck could she sneak up on you like this? You didn't sense her at all. You still can't. Not even so much as a thought void, just nothing. You've never seen anything like it. How is she concealing herself? What the fuck does she want with you? Your chair is still half-locked, trapping you here. Should you scream? Should you—

" Relax," she says, and it's almost a command as she meets your gaze with your own gray eyes. Still, you try to rein in your heart attempting to race its way out of your ribs. "I just want to talk."

"About what?" Your voice betrays the tension tight in your spine, much as you wish otherwise. If one more person tells you to relax, you think you might actually snap. You need to regain control of yourself. You are Reckoning, for fuck's sake. You're not some helpless child. 

"You," she says simply and then pauses. Frowns. Like she's no longer quite sure of what to say. Like she had a plan, but now she doesn't know if it should be executed. 

You try to touch her thoughts again, and again you're met with less than nothing. Are you hallucinating? No. The man walking down the path sees you both. He isn't worried by what he sees, two sisters having a conversation that seems tense. You aren't going to dig into the implications of that one. So she's here. She wants something, wants it enough to approach you about it. You realize the benefit to her closely kept secret identity means she can approach you freely as long as Ortega is not around. The weird presence you felt before, you realize that was Jake, you felt the same nebulousness of his thoughts when you went to meet Hollow Ground at Parkside. Irresistible bait to lure Ortega away. But you have no idea what it is she wants. So you wait. Ortega is right. No one is going to try and do anything in public in broad daylight. She won't, not like this. 

"What about me…?" you prompt when the quiet of her gets to be too much, impatient to find out what this is about with her mind giving you no clues. 

"How… are you?" she asks, surprisingly tentative. 

That reserved inquiry catches you off-guard, but you recover swiftly, her odd nervousness making you feel more confident despite your obvious weakness. "Oh, you know. Peachy. Just out for a stroll," you drawl, gesturing at your propped up casts. 

She snorts and the corner of her lips twitches. Somehow, your snark steadies her. "I should have expected that."

"Why do you care?" you ask sharply. She's being weird, and you don't like it. What is this about? Why would she risk meeting you like this?

"You're a mystery, Riley Owens. I'd hate it if you died before I could solve it." She smirks as you feel your blood run cold. Something about the way she says your name makes you feel jittery. But even more importantly, how could she possibly know who you are? You never gave your name before, to anyone at Parkside, you were there as your villainous alias. Argent scrubbed all records of your surgery at the hospital, though you have no doubt Hollow Ground knew who had been involved in the wreck. How does she know your name? Do the Rangers have a leak? 

As your brain stumbles over what this could mean, she holds out a small white card with something scrawled on it. An address. You recognize the area. Rich and residential. Very rich and residential. Is this… She can't possibly be just handing you this… 

"Got it memorized?" At your nod, she pockets it with a smile that's a little sharp for your liking. 

"What is your g—" 

"Fuck." Her hand shoots up, silencing you as her head tilts slightly like she's listening to something. You can just make out the outline of a small clear low profile receiver in her over-pierced ear. "We lost your pet Ranger, and he's on his way back. I have to go." She rises from the bench with the grace of a crane, giving you a conspiratorial wink.

"Wait, what— Fuck!" You swear, fumbling for the other lock on your chair before she can get away. 

As she strides away, she calls back, "You should stop by sometime, when you're back on your feet. We have a lot to catch up on."  

For someone so tall, she disappears far too easily into crowds. By the time you can roll after her, she's gone, as traceless as she appeared. What the fuck did she mean, catch up on? You're left sitting there, stewing in your own bile, until Ortega finally returns. 

He's sweaty, looking a little tired and roughed up. You think you can see the outline of a bruise blooming under the edge of his bearded cheek. He's definitely been in a fight. You don't know if you should be pleased or pissed that he learned to leave civilians behind for these kinds of escapades after his stunt with Jolene went awry. "Hey," he says with a little wave as he catches his breath. "Everything okay?"

 "Just dandy," you snarl, playing into being pissed that he left you. If he knew who just stopped by to pay you a friendly chat, he'd shit his own generator. "Sitting like a duck while you go haring off to go fight some rando."

Luckily, you think he's getting the right message, because he holds his hands up, placating, as he talks to you in the same tone he uses with his unruly horse at the ranch. "Hey, c'mon. I was just gone a few minutes. Nothing happened, right?" 

"Yeah," you lie with a sigh, dragging a hand down your face. "Nothing happened."

He grabs onto the handlebars of your chair, and if he notices you've unlocked it, he doesn't comment on it as he starts walking you through the park. "Angie texted me about meeting us at the ice cream stand. You want to get some ice cream before we go home?" 

"Yeah." Sugar will help steady your nerves. Get your mind off what just happened. “Let’s get some ice cream and go home.”

You have a lot of thinking to do later.

[mxsticmess]

chat how are we feeling about saeyoung angst

[ask-kuomiku]

happy miku

[bbyboybucket]

You know, maybe I’ve been looking at some of the writing in TFATWS the wrong way. Maybe scenes like the one where Bucky says “Hydra was his people”, actually isn’t just bullshit victim blaming. What if it’s not actually bad or careless writing that they switch up from a sympathetic narrative to a more guilty one.

What if they’ve actually been intentionally contradictory all along to convey that Bucky has Stockholm syndrome to some degree. God I can’t believe I’ve never thought about this till now.

[cerealmonster15]

hhhrhrhggh i still dont really understand when doing things left handed for crochet does and doesnt make a difference but i think i def messed something up just now 😒 so whatever guess it's just gonna have to look a lil funky

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

pata hai last kuch din i was very busy with my project kyunki final dena tha and binding karni thi etc to wo karwayi then i went to the bookfair bekaar tha then parso submit karne jaa rahi to subah accident hogaya (bhai ki bike skid hogayi and we fell down) and now i have a big ass blue bruise on my upper thigh and my parents don't even know lmao and kal ek science conference thi to i had to sit in an auditorium for 6 hours listening to accomplished people speak. that's what you missed now your turn

omg i knew everything in this except for the accident cause i stalk your blog vigorously everyday are you okay!!!!!!!!!! did you get tetanus shots!!!!!!!!!! also on your upper thigh oh no that's where future jiju is supposed to write MINE na as per our beloved song guilty as sin?