#<-basic tag. maybe i'll come up with a better one later

[foodtruckery]

I've been having crazy Stancest brain rot thinking about an AU where they don't have the portal incident and instead have crazy marathon hate sex instead (Inspired by some amazing art by @CoreArde on Twitter) and I thought it'd be fun to share that with you.

They start off arguing in the lab and then oops they're fucking on the lab floor, and they really should be thinking this through but nope now they're upstairs fucking on the kitchen table and okay maybe now they'll finally talk about it nah, they're fucking in Ford's bed now.

It starts off as rough hate sex getting out years of frustration, but by the time they make it to the kitchen its become insanely desperate and cloying because they missed each other, and their bodies fit so well together, and GOD how could they have not been doing this all time? They're going at it so long that they basically end up passed out in Ford's bed by the end, and Stan's not going to be sitting down for a while after this. He's probably just happy to be sleeping in a bed, but Ford is trying to figure out how he got so far from the initial plan.

Even better if the two of them have been harboring feelings for years and never acted on it, because they get the one-two punch of all the weight of their time apart and processing the fact that OH GOD I JUST FUCKED MY BROTHER (which of course they both wanted to do but still).

I have no idea what would happen after that, but both of them waking up sore, sweat soaked, sticky with cum (some still inside Stan because of course Ford didn't use a condom this wasn't supposed to happen) after having gone at each other like rabbits in heat despite never having expressed their attraction to each other before is a hilarious and hot idea to me. What do you think?

HI THERE ANON. i am so fucking sorry that i left you waiting for so long about this, but i need you to know it's because i was FUCKING OBSESSED with this. like just absolutely beside myself over it, and i refused to respond until i had a chance to sit down and respond PROPERLY.

cause uh YEAH FRIEND i know the exact fucking piece of art (explicit) you're talking about, because it's INCREDIBLE. and in case you didn't know, the artist is over here too and shares some fucking fantastic writing and headcanons also! (seriously, go check out @/cartoonsinthemorning if you haven't. and cart, i hope you don't mind that anon and i both kinda lost our minds about your art over here! i genuinely have no idea what tag etiquette is on this site and didn't wanna bombard you, but you did this. again.)

i'll be honest, anon, this kinda got away from me (fucking shocker) and i am too tired to do any legit editing of it right now, so please forgive any typos or weirdness! i'll try and clean it up before it eventually goes up on ao3. but thank you for such a LOVELY ask because this was so hot, and so inspiring, and i hope i did a little justice to your idea and cart's gorgeous art!

--- Ford isn't entirely sure how it had started. His memory, his perception of time, his ability to follow a linear order of events -- all if it is less than reliable at the moment, so he can't entirely blame himself for losing track of things here and there. But the jump between trying to wrestle his journal out of Stan's hands to trying to wrestle Stan out of his dingey jeans is a jarring transition to lose in the dull static that's been edging around his awareness for weeks now. 

Not jarring enough to stop him, though. 

He thinks, vaguely, while he's blindly tugging at Stan's denim, that there's a concerningly high likelihood that he's hallucinating. His head is swimming in so much caffeine and adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the rough concrete of the lab floor under his knees -- maybe that isn't where he is? Maybe he'd nodded off without realizing. Maybe he's going to come to with another lapful of polaroids and a new humiliating tattoo. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe -- he can reckon with a probability model later. For the first time in what feels like months, the stability of his perceived reality is not actually at the forefront of Ford's mind.

Pressing in on him harder than the doubt, harder than the disassociation from his physical body, and harder than the threat of the creature lingering in the depths of his subconscious is anger. It feels like a beacon in the muddled, fuzzy mess inside his head, something bright and real and his. It's searing through him, slicing away all the frayed edges of his paranoia and doubt like a hot blade through so much butter. 

Ford clings to the sharp edges of that anger and feels more alert than he has in weeks. 

He can't remember how their bickering had taken this particular turn, but if he's liable to lose his eyes and his life in the next few days, Ford will be fucking damned if he squanders the opportunity. He knows he's made a mess of things, that he's made the sorts of mistakes that can't and frankly shouldn't be forgiven. 

But he also knows with blinding, white hot certainty that he's only here, now, because of Stan's mistakes.

Ford may not deserve absolution, but he does deserves this. 

Laughter cuts through the lab, rough and mocking, and Ford's attention finally falls, properly, on Stan. He has a bruise blooming on his cheek and a snide smirk twisting his lips. He's also on his back, his jeans and a threadbare pair of boxers bunched in Ford's fists and pulled so low he can see the tight curls of his pubic hair and the root of his cock. 

"What's wrong, Poindexter?" Stan asks, mocking, and it's only then that Ford realizes he's paused halfway through stripping his twin's lower half. The bite of the cold concrete under his knees still feels far away, but the rough material in his palms, and the heat of Stan's body so close to him are sharp, clear details. "No hands on experience with a dick that ain't your own? Afraid you might actually be bad at somethin' for once?" 

Ford narrows his eyes, feeling the hot point of anger cutting through him, steadying him, and he jerks Stan's clothes hard enough that he gets the material past his knees in one tug. Stan laughs at him again, but it stutters into a little 'oof!' when Ford flips him onto his stomach. 

He doesn't care that Stan's pants are still caught around his calves and his boots. He doesn't care that Stan hisses something that sounds like pain when he's yanked onto his knees and dragged backwards several inches across the concrete. He doesn't even care that, once upon a time, he'd dreamed of this, of crossing this line with the only person he'd ever really loved in any way that mattered, and it's nothing like the softer, sweeter picture he used to imagine. 

Stan's hips are soft, and the skin gives easily under the iron grip Ford has on them, holding him in place as he grinds against his ass. Even through his slacks, the heat of Stan's body is intense, addictive, and he grinds forward again, harder, watching the friction rub a pink  patch against his skin. 

Stan, shameless and selfish as always, pushes eagerly back against him. Ford has barely done anything beyond rocking the outline of his cock against his hole, but he can hear Stan panting against the ground, can see his hands curling into fists. He remembers how many times Stan had called Carla McCorkle "easy" in high school and thinks, now, that the easy one had been his brother. 

"You gonna keep humpin' me, or are you gonna fuck me?" Stan demands, rocking as firmly back as he can with the bruising grip Ford has on him. 

"What makes you think you deserve that?" Ford bites out. It would serve Stan right, he thinks, if he got himself off exactly like this, no different than grinding against a particularly firm couch pillow. Just a conveniently warm object for Ford to release some tension with. 

Stan looks back over his shoulder and flashes teeth at him. It isn't a smile. "Oh, I get it. Cold feet? Well, we can just chalk it up to one more thing ya promised and then backed out of as soon as you actually had to make a choice. Good to know some things never change, Stanford."

He's being goaded, and Ford knows that. But the anger boils in his chest, and he thinks, why should he care about what Stan does or doesn't deserve from him? This is about what Ford deserves.

And what Ford deserves is to have his dick so far up Stan's ass he'll be able to feel it in the back of his throat. 

"Do you ever shut up?" he snaps while he releases one of Stan's hips to yank his slacks open. The bruise of his fingerprints already forming against Stan's skin thrills him, almost to distraction, if it weren't for Stan laughing again. 

"'Course not," he says, shifting his center of balance to dig into the pocket of his dirty red coat. The little packet he tosses over his shoulder bounces off his own ass to land by Ford's knee, the word LUBE printed in large, bold letters across the front. He should be surprised to see it, and part of him is. The word "easy" comes to mind again. 

Ford rips the packet open with his teeth. 

"F-Fuck!" Stan curses, turning his forehead against the ground when Ford presses his slick cock into him a moment later without warning. 

Ford grabs him roughly by the waist when he twitches forward and yanks Stan back until his ass hits the open fly of his slacks. He makes a choked sound at that and turns his face into the crook of his own arm when Ford pulls back and rocks hard back into him. 

"What's wrong, Stanley?" he parrots. He pistons his hips at a punishing pace, watching his cock pumping in and out of the greedy, grasping ring of Stan's hole. "Nothing to say?" 

Stan makes a noise that's too muffled by the sleeve of his coat to understand, so Ford reaches down to take a fistful of his stupid mullet instead. The hitching gasp that escapes his twin when his head is forcefully jerked up makes him groan. "What was that? Come on, Stanley, use your words." 

"F-Fuck off," Stan says, his voice strained, almost whining. 

"I see you haven't gotten anymore eloquent since you left," Ford scoffs around the breathlessness in his own voice, feeling the anger and pleasure coiling harder in his gut. "What was it you said? Good to know some things never change." 

When he pulls Stan's hair again, just because he can, Stan moans. And when he shifts his hips, driving in just as hard at the new angle, Stan shouts. With his own knees bracketed on either side of his, Ford can feel the way his thighs tremble when he clenches around his cock, and he can feel the sweat beading up under his palm where he's digging darker bruises into Stan's side. 

Ford feels like he's on the edge of delirium again, consumed by every sound Stan makes, every twitch of his hips, every ounce of his heat. He thinks, a bit wildly, that Stan may have been made for this, made to take his cock, for how well he does. 

It isn't until Stan jerks under him, going hot and tight around his cock and making a strangled noise in the back of his throat, that Ford realizes he may have said part of that out loud. That Stan came over it. 

He groans low in his throat and thrusts half a dozen more times into Stan's clenching hole before he comes as well. 

It's quiet for a few minutes other than their ragged panting, but it's Stan who eventually reaches back and swats at Ford's hand until he lets go of his hair. He takes the hint and pulls out, watching with no small amount of satisfaction as his come trickles down Stan's thighs. It strikes him suddenly that he wants to follow the wet trail back up with his tongue. It's enough to make his cock give a feeble, appreciative twitch. 

He isn't sure if he's just terribly distracted or if he loses time again, because when Ford next lifts his head, Stan is on his feet, pants pulled up around his waist but still open, and he has his journal in hand. This might be more jarring than the last transition he'd lost. 

"What are you doing?" he demands, shoving himself back onto his own feet. He doesn't bother to tuck his cock back in, and he spots the moment Stan's eyes flick down. It's brief, but he'd seen it. 

"What does it fucking look like I'm doing? I'm taking your stupid diary and disappearing like you begged me to," Stan says. His voice is still a little raw, and Ford has a moment to realize how much he likes that, before the words catch up. 

He scoffs. "Oh! So now you want to actually help?! Is it always this easy to fuck the sense into you?" 

Stan's expression does a few things Ford doesn't understand before his brows ultimately slam down and he turns his back, storming towards the door with Ford's journal still in hand, and Ford himself hot on his heels. "You're fucking unbelievable, Stanford, you know that?!" 

"Me?! You're the one who came all over my lab floor and then decided he was ready to be reasonable!" 

Stan jams his thumb against the call button for the elevator several times in quick succession, despite the car already being on their floor and the gate sliding open. "Most people would just say thank you when someone agreed to help them out, but not you! What does Stanford Pines have to be grateful for? We're all just fucking lucky to get a task from ya, huh?" 

Ford crowds into the elevator with him before Stan can try to pull the gate or call the doors shut behind him. He punches the button to take them up himself, before making a grab for the journal, snarling when Stan leans back and holds it up above his head. 

"You're the one who threatened to destroy my work twenty minutes ago, Stanley! Why would I trust you with it now? Hell, I can't figure out why I trusted you enough to bring you here in the first place!" 

"Oh really? You can't?" Stan sneers, leaning in close. And when Ford takes a step back, Stan follows, backing him into a corner of the car. "I don't think you fuckin' trusted me to do shit, Stanford. I think you were all outta options cause nobody else could stand to put up with you anymore." 

Stan doesn't so much as hit a nerve as he takes a sledgehammer to it, and as soon as the elevator dings, Ford shoves him as hard as he can out into the study. Stan yelps when he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and it's only knocking into a cluttered desk that keeps him from falling on his ass. 

Ford doesn't give him any time to right himself, storming in after him and grabbing him by the front of his jacket. Stan flinches, like he'ex expecting a punch, but Ford yanks him in and crushes his mouth against his instead. 

There's a dull thump that Ford only realizes was the journal being dropped when he feels both of Stan's hands on his shoulders. They curl briefly, grasping at him, and Ford feels his mouth starting to go soft and slack. But as soon as he presses in, runs his tongue along that loosening seam, he's suddenly being shoved backwards. 

If he weren't so damn confused, Ford would probably appreciate the picture Stan makes, lips slick and pants open, leaning back against one of Ford's desks. 

"What are you doing?!" Stan demands, like he's the one who doesn't know what day it is, and keeps losing track of events. 

"I would think even you could figure that out after what happened downstairs, Stanley."

Stan flushes, visible even in the low light of the study, though Ford isn't sure if it's embarrassment or anger. The scowl on his face doesn't help clear things up, either, though the fact that he isn't actually looking at Ford is...telling.  

"That ain't happening again," Stan states, and there isn't anything convincing about the way he says it at all. But when Ford steps forward, Stan sidesteps him and the desk. He makes a wrong turn in the dark, in a house he isn't familiar with, and flinches when Ford flips on the light in the kitchen he's walked into.

"I don't know how you expect to leave and hide my journal after leaving it in the study," he points out, frowning at the back of Stan's head. 

He isn't surprised when Stan whirls on him. He is, however, stunned still when he realizes Stan's eyes are wet. 

"What the fuck do you want from me, Stanford?!" Stan shouts, his voice cracking over his name, and it makes something feel like it's cracking inside his chest. 

Ford has to wet his lips when he finds them and his throat dry. "...I told you what I wanted," he says.

"Yeah, you did! And when I finally agreed to do it, you threw a fucking fit about it! And now you're pissy because I'm not?! What do you want?" 

The anger sparks sharply inside him again, and Ford grasps at it like a lifeline, willing to bloody his hands for that bite of stability. 

"You tried to burn it! My life's work! And you only decided you would help me after we--"

Stan cuts him off, looking towards the cabinets while he raises his voice and waves his hands. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry about the fucking lighter, all right?!"

Ford frowns. He takes a step forward and, still without looking at him, Stan takes a step back. It's the elevator all over again, but this time Ford is pressing in, backing Stan into the cabinets. He grabs the counter on either side of his hips when he tries to side step him again. 

"Stanley, look at me," he demands, frowning harder when Stan sets his jaw and stars determinedly at his shoulder. "Stanley--"

"What do you want, Ford? Just...just fucking tell me and I'll leave, all right?" Stan says, his voice tired and soft as he reaches up to rub a hand over his own face.

He wants a lot, honestly. And hasn't that always been the problem? He's always wanted -- to be normal, to be respected, to be the best, to be special. 

To be wanted. 

To be enough.

To fix things. 

"You," he realizes, watching Stan jerk his head up. His lashes are still wet, and Ford can't stop himself from reaching up and pressing his palm to Stan's cheek, skimming his thumb gently under one of his eyes. 

When he leans in to kiss him again, Stan makes a small, wounded little noise under his mouth, but he parts his lips for Ford's tongue this time. Stan's lips are chapped and he tastes vaguely of stale cigarettes, but Ford is still struck by how soft and sweet he is. 

More than anything else that had happened that evening, this is the moment that Ford knows he should suspect most of all. The way Stan relaxes between him and the counter, the almost tentative way he lifts his tongue to meet his, the careful fingertips touching the edge of Ford's coat and brushing against his loose tie. It's tender in a way Ford didn't think either of them were capable of, and it should be setting off warning bells and red flags in every part of his mind. 

It isn't. 

Ford is more certain of  the reality of this single moment, the gentle slip of Stan's lips against his own, than he's been of anything in a long time. 

And then Stan sighs between them and murmurs, warm and hopeful, "Ford," against his lips, and he's done for. 

It doesn't matter that they just fucked, that Ford's come is probably still drying between Stan's thighs -- he can't keep his hands off of him. Ford is suddenly frantic and desperate in a way that he hadn't been downstairs. He needs to relearn the new, wider shape of Stan's shoulders and pecs. He needs to feel out every new scar and take stock of all the old ones he remembers Stan collecting for him as kids. He needs to be surrounded by him again, soaking in the warmth of him. 

Ford doesn't deserve absolution, but he thinks he may be able to find something close to it in the low, shaky way Stan moans his name. 

And there's familiarity in the way Stan grabs at him in turn, tugging at his jacket and tie and surging into another, harder kiss. Ford thinks he may not be the only one looking for expiation. 

Then Stan drops to his knees between him and the cabinet, and Ford stops thinking so much. His cock is still out, and Stan wastes no time in getting his fist around the shaft and his lips around the head. He suckles and swirls his tongue, and Ford shoves the beanie off of his head to get his hands in his hair. 

"Stanley," he gasps, stroking his fingers along his scalp and fisting the strands between them. 

Stan moans around him and shuffles closer, sliding the seal of his lips further down the length of Ford's cock. All he can do is groan and try to keep from rocking his hips as more of him is greeted by the warmth of his mouth and the wickedness of his tongue. 

He keeps waiting for Stan to reach his limit, to back off and give himself room to breathe. He doesn't. He keeps leaning in, keeps taking him, and then Ford feels his cockhead slip into Stan's throat, sees his lashes are wet again, and he has to put one hand on the counter to keep himself steady. "Fuck, Stanley, you're so good at this."

Stan makes a horribly sweet sound around the girth of Ford's cock and reaches up to hold his hips as he swallows, and Ford is suddenly afraid he's going to embarass himself.  His hips twitch despite his best efforts to keep them still, but Stan simply relaxes his jaw and his throat and tugs a little to encourage him to do it again. He does, of course, how could he not? 

Despite the heat clawing its way through him and the pleasure mounting dangerously high, Ford almost feels outside of himself again. The picture Stan makes, with his eyes damp and heavy lidded, his lips wet and stretched around Ford's cock, his hair fisted in Ford's fingers and his own clinging to Ford's hips -- it's lewd, debauched, and so horribly sweet that it makes Ford's chest hurt. 

Stan gasps raggedly when Ford pulls him off. "I was go-gonna...I mean you can--"

Ford kneels down to kiss him, tasting stale cigarettes and himself, cock throbbing over the rough state of Stan's voice. "Not done yet," he manages, before tugging Stan onto his feet. 

They lose clothes and time on the journey upstairs, tripping over the steps and Ford's discarded pants, and stumbling into his wreck of a room. If Stan notices the state of things, he doesn't comment, mouth latched onto Ford's shoulder and hands all over his back and hips. 

The back of Ford's legs hit the bed and he sits hard on the mattress. Stan doesn't hesitate to crawl up into his lap. He'd lost his boots in the kitchen and his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way to the stairs, giving him ample opportunity to rub his bare cock against Ford's. 

Cursing, Ford rolls his hips and only belatedly remembers to reach up and tug the hideous red coat off of Stan's shoulders. 

"Oh, fuck, hold on. I think I have another one," Stan says, panting softly as he digs into the pockets of his coat. Ford takes the opportunity to run his hands across Stan's thighs and ass, squeezing whatever skin he can until Stan makes a triumphant sound and pulls another little packet of lube free. 

Only then does he let Ford toss his jacket aside and tug him further up the bed with him. He doesn't protest when Ford takes the packet from him, lowering his head to work open mouth kisses up Ford's throat instead, and he rolls his hips distractingly while Ford fights to get the damnable thing open. He ignores the snickering against his skin in the process. 

It stops anyway, hitching into something warm and startled when Ford sinks two slick fingers into him. 

"Oh, fuck," Stan breaths, reaching up to grab Ford by the shoulder, holding himself steady. "Y-You know you don't have to do that, right? Pretty loosened up already."

He is, to be fair. His hole is still soft and loose and fucked open. But Ford enjoys petting his fingers against the tender muscle and stroking them inside anyway. He likes watching Stan bite his lip and push himself back onto his hand. When he slides a third in after the first two, Stan's thighs tremble on either side of his own, and he makes a low, throaty sound. 

When Ford curls his fingers just right, Stan yells and grips his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and it makes warm satisfaction curl in his middle. So he does it a few more times, alternating between spreading his fingers and rubbing the tips against Stan's prostate until he's squirming in his lap. 

"I-I'm gonna come if you don't knock that sh-shit off," he gasps, slumping a bit when Ford chuckles and slides his fingers out. 

"I think I'd like that," Ford says, squeezing his slick fingers against Stan's thigh. 

He snorts and straightens back up, finding the discarded lube packet to squirt the remainder onto Ford's cock. "Yeah, I bet you fucking would," Stan agrees, but there's no malice in his voice, just warm amusement. 

His fist is warm and wonderful when it curls around Ford's cock, spreading lube, and then Ford is being held steady, Stan adjusts himself on his scuffed knees, and there's nothing else to do but hold on as Stan lowers himself into his lap. 

It feels as good as it had earlier to be inside of him, and Ford squeezes the thigh under his hand tightly, fighting against the need to buck his hips. Stan is panting softly, his head tilted back and a pretty, pink color is crawling up from under his t-shirt to flood his neck and face. 

Ford groans and leans forward, finding a nipple through his thin shirt to get his teeth and tongue against.

"F-Ford!" Stan gasps, fumbling the hand not clawing at his shoulder up into his hair, and Ford sucks hard on the firm nub,  rubbing spit-soaked cotton against it with his tongue until Stan rocks in his lap. 

Fuck, he likes that, the way his name sounds in Stan's voice, especially warm and rough after fucking his throat earlier. 

He squeezes Stan's thigh and his hip, giving him a little tug, and that's all the encouragement Stan needs before he's bouncing on his cock. Ford has that thought again -- that Stan was meant to be filled by him, that they're a perfectly matched set. But it isn't just feeling good and hot while Stan fucks himself in his lap. It's feeling like he's been missing something and he finally has it, like he's finally complete again. 

He's missed this, Ford realizes. 

Not the fucking his brother part. He'd fantasized about that for years but it still feels like a dream that it's happening, like something that's too good to be true. 

But being able to put his arms around him? To be this close to him again? 

Ford rocks his hips up, hard, and Stan says his name. He wraps his fingers around Stan's cock, and he gasps his name. He bites the same swollen, pink nipple through his shirt, and Stan shouts his name. 

He snaps his hips up to meet him a few more times and rubs the sensitive glans under the head of Stan's cock, and then there are teeth digging into his other shoulder and his fist and stomach are being striped in Stan's come while he shudders and jerks overtop of him. 

Stan goes easily when Ford rolls them over and pins one of his wrists to the bed. And despite the way he squirms and how his spent cock twitches and leaks, blatantly overstimulated, he hooks his ankles behind Ford's back and urges him on. 

"C-C'mon, give it to me. Fuck, just like that, Sixer!" 

The nickname hits him with all the subtlety of a truck and all the heat of a volcanic eruption. 

He doesn't even remember coming so much as he remembers every synapses in his brain trying to fire at once. Coming back down to reality is a little clearer, with his head spinning and pulse racing as he flops onto his back, but it still takes several long minutes before he feels fully cognizant again. 

Something makes the bed shift, and he looks over to see that Stan has rolled onto his stomach. Ford wonders if he looks half as fucked out as Stan does, with bruises blossoming across his body, his shirt rucked halfway up his stomach, and come staining his ass and thighs. Ford realizes Stan still has his socks on, and he can't figure out why that makes something twinge, hot but exhausted and halfhearted, in his gut. 

"Gonna...gonna get up in a minute," Stan says, his voice slurring and his eyes already closed. Ford watches him rub his cheek against one of Ford's pillows, and the soft sound of snoring follows soon after. 

The reality of the situation starts to settle in shortly after that, and Ford stares wide eyed up at the ceiling as if he'll find some sort of answers there. Unsurprisingly, there are no secrets etched overhead for how to reckon with the fact that he had just fucked his brother, twice, while the fate of the world was still very much hanging in the balance between his fraying sanity and Bill's looming threat. 

".....Fuck," Ford murmurs.

When the adrenaline finishes seeping out of his system, Ford expects to crash. The exhaustion certainly climbs back into his bones, but he's surprised to find himself still clear headed. Focused. 

The sound of Stan sleeping soundly beside him is as soothing as it is mocking, but he doesn't want to separate himself from it even though he knows he needs to get up. There's soft, gray light starting to creep in through the windows, and distant birdsong calling for the start of the day. He needs to readjust, to come up with a new plan, find some way to explain to Stan what's going on so they can buy themselves a little more time. 

Against all odds and his better judgment, there's a tiny, optimistic voice in the back of his head reminding him that there's strength in numbers. He isn't surprised that it sounds like Stan.

[secondhand-lions]

my hand hurts

this was fun because it was completely circular until the 4th row

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Sewing with I.N ‗ ❍

Pairing : Yang Jeongin x f reader

Summary : chapter eight of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, no warning at all just so much fluff it's crazy

Word count : 1.52 k words (longest)

A/n : It's finished omg T-T look forward to my next full length (spicy) one shot with ayen <3

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

One morning Jeongin was running around the living room in a rush to get downstairs, as his members and managers were there to pick him up to go to work.

"Bye cutie, see you l-" as soon as he bent down to give you a kiss, you heard a ripping noise. You both froze.

Jeongin instinctively slapped a hand on his ass as you quickly got up from the couch to look at the damage.

"Oh my gosh, inne let me look" you moved his hand as he started to jump up and down, impatient and anxious about being late.

Yep. There was a whole rip in his butt area in his jeans. They were literally baggy jeans, how old must have they been to rip? Maybe it was worn out?

"Quick, get out of them, I'll grab you another pair!" You exclaimed as you ran straight to his closet.

Fortunately, he took really good care of his wardrobe so it was very easy to find the pants. You grabbed a similar pair of jeans, then ran back.

You kneeled down, helping him one leg at a time, since he had like two bags on him and you were worried he would've tripped.

"You're a life saver, thank you my love" he leaned to kiss you, and succeed this time, as he buttoned and zipped up the pants.

That time, when he went out and you were left to chill at home on your day off, you decided to take a look at the actual damage and saw that it was not the denim that ripped, but rather the sewing coming undone for some reason.

You checked better, and of course you found the reason. Jeongin had cut the fabric tag way too close to the sewing and so after a while of wearing and pulling, they came undone.

Once you figured that the pants were fixable, you decided to surprise Innie and got to work. You took out your old sewing machine from the high space in your closet, then carefully picked a matching color for the thread.

About ten minutes later, the jeans looked brand new. You smiled proudly as you held them up in front of you, checking the front and the back. Not bad, you thought.

That evening, Jeongin came home tired and basically sleeping on his feet. He was exhausted.

"Aw, you're so tired, baby" you pouted as he rested his forehead on your chest. He nodded without answering, which made you giggle a bit. He was so cute.

"Have you eaten? It's a bit late so I hope you did" you asked, scratching his head lightly with your nails, to relax him.

"Something earlier. Just sleepy. Can we go to bed?" He spoke with a tired, slurry voice.

"That's good. Yes, we can. I just wanted to show you something-" you detached yourself and walked to the living room table, picking up and unfolding the jeans.

Jeongin watched your movements curiously. As soon as he saw the jeans, he focused his eyes, squinting a bit.

"I fixed them this morning. They were not ripped, the sewing came undone. Be careful not to cut the tag too short next time!" You smiled sweetly.

He took the pants from your hands and inspected them with a dimply smiled. He actually got a bit shy? Maybe it was the domesticity of it.

"They look brand new. You did such a good job, baby, thank you" he leaned closer and kissed your lips gently as a thank you.

The next time something similar happened, Jeongin came to you with a t-shirt. It was a casual, short sleeves graphic tee. Designer, of course.

"Y/nie, there's a little hole, right here, you see?" You walked closer and inspected the shirt yourself.

"Mhm yeah, I don't know how it would've gotten there, but it's totally fixable. Would you like me to fix it?" You asked.

He looked at you with love-filled eyes and shyly nodded. You kind of noticed his demeanor and that made you smile, too.

"Okay then. Trust me."

This time, you decided to dare a little and do something more. But based on how he seems to react, and honestly how good of a job you did, you were excited to show him the result.

He went out for a while to get some groceries and coffe for the both you, so when he came home you waited until he had his jacket off and he was comfortable.

"Jeonginnie" you called, purposefully acting cutesy. He sharpened his gaze in suspicion, but he had a playful smile on his lips.

"Yes?"

"I fixed the McQueen shirt" you suddenly pulled it out from behind your back, handing it to him. Just like a gift. He widened his eyes and mouth in shock.

"Wow, already?? You're the best, cutie, thank you so much." He kissed your lips as a thank you, which you welcomed gladly, but then encouraged him to check out your work.

And that's when he saw it. You didn't just fix the hole. You actually used some thicker, almost wool-like thread, and embroidered a small black heart, which matched perfectly with the black and white punk style of the shirt.

He looked at it in disbelief, smiling so wide his eyes turned into little half moons and his dimples came out cuter than ever.

"No way! You did this for me?" He lightly stroke the heart with his thumb, "It's so well done and it looks so good with the rest" he kept complimenting you.

You had a huge smile, giggling like a school girl. It was almost too much how stupidly in love you were.

"So you can have a little piece of me when you wear it" you replied sheepishly. At that point he just lost it, the cuteness aggression taking over him.

So he threw the shirt on the armchair and then launched himself at you, starting to pepper all your face and neck with kisses. Making as much noise as he could while you couldn't help but giggle, then laugh as he was tickling you.

From then on, if he happened to have some issue with his non-working clothes, he'd ask if you could fix them for him, instead of asking one of their staff like he would've had done before meeting you.

You happily complied every time you could manage, but some things sometimes weren't worth it, so he threw them away, or you recommend a more experienced seamstress to handle it.

But regardless, it had almost become your little thing. He quickly got interested in the process of sewing up/ embroidery and even knitting. He enjoyed the activity, as well as creating some silly things like a knitted version of a pokémon he liked, but mostly he loved spending time with you.

"Good morning my baby" he nuzzled his face in your hair, waking you up gently. You smiled, snuggling back into him.

"Mornin'" your sleepy voice replied. He smiled widely and told you to wait a second. You protested, stretching out your arm to try and keep him in bed, but eventually dropped it back on the mattress soundly.

Jeongin came back, still only wearing a pair of tracksuit pants, hiding something behind his back.

That peeked your interest, so you fully opened your eyes, waiting.

"The big stuff is gonna come later but...for now..." He teased, getting closer to the bed, then leaning forward with one knee on the mattress, "Happy birthday, my beautiful y/nie"

At that he revealed what he was hiding, which was a whole knitted winter hat, including a cute pompon at the top. You gasped as you sat up, snatching it from his hands.

"No way you made this!" You exclaimed, excited. He laughed.

"I had a good teacher" he smiled sweetly, "Do you like it? I know it's not perfect bu-" he couldn't even finish the sentence as you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss you.

"Don't even say that! It's perfect, it's absolutely perfect. And my favorite colors too, oh I love you" you both had huge smiles.

"I love you, too. Happy birthday!"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[pixiemage]

My Fate Is In Your Hands - Entry 7

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[A/N: This is a story entirely guided by you guys, by the readers. Be sure to vote at the end of each entry! ALSO, if you'd like to be added the tag list, please let me know and I'll be sure to add you next time!]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

➤ Examine the patches. He could learn something new about the familiar stranger.

Learning more about the stranger Jimmy rescued can only help the situation…right? The more they know about him, the better they can handle the situation…and the better they can help him.

The spacesuit the pilot is wearing used to be pure white, Jimmy’s sure, even if it was now dusted in gray and black and red, ash and soot and mesa sand. But even then it’s in fairly good condition despite the crash, and the patches stitched into the fabric and their accompanying lettering are still legible. Jimmy squints at the text, reading past the damage.

The word H.A.S.A. is stitched on a round blue-and-red patch at his shoulder, though the logo isn't one he recognizes. And there's another string of letters across the man's chest, backed in red and sewn in black - something Jimmy can only assume must be a name.

T. TEK

It’s familiar, much like the stranger himself. This, too, feels like something Jimmy should know, and it tugs at his mind, at a memory just out of reach.

"...of the Tek variety. Nice to meet ya! So he dragged you into his game too, huh? Heh, should be a good time..."

There's a cocky sort of grin hovering out of sight, and eyes he can't make out the color of that sparkle with a chaotic sort of mischief. He pauses and pulls the cleaning cloth away to stare at the still and expressionless face of the man on the bed. He swears he knows him.

"...welcome, contestants! This is Dare to Flare..."

"...called You Bet Your Life. Basically, what it is..."

Jimmy reaches out against his better judgment and runs his fingers over the nametag, the stitching raised beneath his touch. He frowns, chewing his lip, a flurry of familiar words and voices running through his head like an echo as he puzzles over what that first initial might stand for. Then–

“Noooo! No, I’m so sorry–”“What happened, Tango? Take me through it…”

Tango.

Tango.

Tango Tek.

Jimmy lets out a breath with wide eyes, tracing the letters again with his fingertip and letting that revelation sink in. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s right, he just knows. He can’t explain it. He’s still staring in wonder at the soot-dusted nametag when he hears the sound of approaching rockets and jolts from his thoughts.

Oh, void, right. The crash. Shelby. Potions. Gods, he’s being an idiot–

Jimmy carefully cleans the rest of the blood and soot from the pilot’s face with all the gentleness he can muster, and he’s only just depositing the cloth back in its bowl when he hears Shelby calling from the front door.

“In here!” he returns, his eyes lingering on the stranger - on Tango. “Bedroom!”

Now that Shelby’s here, he feels a little (a lot) more confident that Tango’s going to be alright. For now, he can focus on helping patch him up. For now, he can shove the odd familiarity of the not-stranger from his thoughts. Later, he can ponder at why he even knows Tango’s name and why his face feels so achingly familiar…but later. Later. Maybe when Tango is finally awake. Maybe he’ll gain some answers to his questions then. Later.

The door clicks open and Shelby nearly trips into the room, clutching her oversized hat to her head with one hand and scrambling to catch her broomstick with the other, just barely managing not to fall.

“Who is it? What happened? Whaddaya need?” she asks in a rush, clumsily kicking the door shut again and leaning her broom in the corner of the room. “What’s – oh my gosh.”

Jimmy sets the water and rag aside as she comes closer, smiling sheepishly at her wide-eyed expression.

“So, er…” He gestures toward the pilo- Tango. Toward Tango. “Funny story. A spaceship crashed outside Tumble Town an’ this is the pilot.” Shelby’s wide eyes turn to him instead and he chuckles weakly. “Trust me, I know how crazy it sounds,” he says, and she comes over to stand beside him and stare down at Tango’s unconscious form.

She pokes his leg with her finger.

“Is he an alien?” she stage-whispers, and Jimmy almost laughs. Almost. Instead, he twitters weakly and gestures to Tango’s non-human features.

“I don’t know!” he says, a bit hysterical. “He fell out of the sky! And he was unconscious when I found him, it’s not like I could ask! He’s - look,” Jimmy yanks off his hat and rakes his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. “Look, all I know is he’s hurt, alright? I just wanna help ‘im.”

At this, Shelby jolts.

“Oh! Potions! Right! Sorry!” She swipes through the air, summoning her inventory and rifling through it for what she needs. Colorful glass bottles fall into her hands and she sets them on the bed one by one, red and pink and orange clinking softly against each other. Health. Regeneration. Fire resistance.

The last one makes Jimmy pause. He hangs his hat on the chair by the bed and picks up the orange-filled bottle from the collection. He tilts it in his hand, the light of the lanterns overhead reflecting off the glass and making the potion inside look like lava. He recalls what he thought he’d seen on the flight over, the dancing light in Tango’s hair that he was so sure were flames. Then his eyes fall on Tango, remembering the bruises and the scrapes he’d acquired…but no burns, as far as Jimmy could tell. No burns.

“...I don’t think he needs this one,” Jimmy murmurs, and that same certainty stirs in his chest that he’d felt upon realizing Tango’s name.

Shelby doesn’t notice, too busy darting around the bed to get a closer look at Tango - what little of him wasn’t covered by his spacesuit.

“Hmm…we probably need to get him out of this thing to see how bad it is,” she muses, her head tilting to the side and her hat tipping precariously. Her eyes widen. “Oh, geez - he’s bleeding. Hang on–”

Jimmy’s breath catches and he abandons the fire resistance potion where he found it. Right! The head wound. Void, he’d forgotten–

Jimmy quickly offers her a clean cloth across the bed and she pours bright red potion onto it, tugging aside Jimmy’s makeshift bandage and replacing it with the healing-doused rag. Shelby sets the open bottle on the bedside table and reaches for a pink one instead, tugging out the cork with her teeth.

“Any chance you know how to get this spaceman armor off?” she asks, dripping regen carefully onto the rag she’s already using, the scent of sweet melons and nether spice wafting into the air.

“Er–” Jimmy blinked down at the spacesuit, at the odd stiff collar the helmet had been attached to and the thick material the suit was made from. He can’t see a zipper or buttons of any kind at a glance - though he’s sure he can find an opening somewhere if Shelby really needs him to.

“I dunno,” he tells her with a wince, taking up a cloth of his own to start tending to the other scrapes and cuts littering Tango’s face from his shattered visor. “But he got into it somehow, right?”

Shelby nods, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she focuses on her task.

“Let’s get this sorted first, then we can take a look,” she tells him, taking a tick to glance up at him. Maybe she can tell how concerned he is, because she flashes him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Sheriff! He’ll be fine. I’m great at potions, and you’re great at taking care of people. We’ve got this!”

Jimmy lets out a soft, tired breath and returns the smile.

They’ve got this. The stranger will be okay.

Tango will be okay.

...

At the maw of a glowing purple rift that cuts a jagged shape into the wall of the massive cave it calls home, an avian with macaw-colored wings stands gaping at its purpureal light. A pair of well-worn goggles is clutched in his grip, flecks of redstone dust rubbing off onto his skin. He’s quiet. He’s quiet, and his eyes mirror the rift before him in both color and luminescence.

Almost an hour has passed since he arrived to find a friend standing where he now stands, his blue hair ablaze and an untamable emotion spilling off of him in waves. Tango had looked so upset, so desperate…and Grian hadn’t quite been able to talk him out of his insane idea.

“You said it’s a portal to other worlds. Plural. So one of ‘em could be his.”

“Technically, maybe, but - but it’s unstable! Why d’you think I’ve been experimenting with–”

“Screw unstable! You said you sent stuff through, right?”

“Yes, but I haven’t gotten anything back. And I haven’t even tried to send a player through–”

“Then send me.”

“What?! Tango–!”

“I’m going through either way. You might as well collect the data when I do–”

“No! Absolutely not! Xisuma would have my head - Impulse would have my head if I let you–”

“You’re not letting me do anything. I’m going.”

The rest of the conversation had spiraled, had exploded, had careened out of control - and Tango had thrown himself through the rift before Grian could stop him. He hadn’t been able to stop him. So…he’d Watched. He’d kept an eye on his friend, as well as he could when following a speck through an endless and unpredictable schism in space, but he’d Watched.

He’s Watching.

He sees the connection, the transformation, the way the narrative of the Empires server brings Tango into her fold, morphing a piece of his past into the form he takes in the present. He may have been acting as a dungeon master on Hermitcraft, but on Empires he becomes a pilot. He becomes an astronaut. He becomes the desperate not-quite-hero he’d been at the end of the last season, and he crashes.

Grian keeps his Eye on Tango for as long as he can, or at least up until he watches Jimmy salvage him from the wreck and bring him home. It’s only when Jimmy and a witch from a neighboring empire are arranging potions on the bedside table that he pulls away, letting out a breath and massaging the bridge of his nose.

Voidammit, Tango.

At least now Grian has more reason to rush and finish fixing the rift. They’re going to need to get Tango back eventually…he can only hope the narrative doesn’t affect Tango’s memories too much in the meanwhile. And at least he found his soulmate again. He’ll be happy there until the Hermits can reach him. Jimmy will make sure of it, Grian knows.

Soulmates don’t ever stop being soulmates, after all.

:3

[Tag List] @firefly124 @mellioops @beaversuenightly @aris-has-a-paracosm @sincerely-nines @changeling-ash

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Five things Porsche learns about Kim lets gooooo

This actually started as a prompt from @shubaka forever ago (before we were friends 🥺) and I decided to torture myself by turning it into a 5+1 fic! But then I stalled out bc I didn't know what to add for the other parts klasjdhgf. It's actually still floating somewhere around here in my writing tag!

In it, Porsche is trying to befriend Kim, and Kim is horribly resistant to it. Porsche steals Chay's phone since Kim won't answer him, only for Kim to hang up as soon as he speaks, it's a whole thing. Basically Kim being forced to bond with his future brother in law <3

The first thing Porsche learns about Kim is that he's a squirrely little bastard. He weasels his phone number out of Chay - after finding out that Kinn didn't have it saved in his own phone, which will be a conversation for later - but Kim doesn't any answer any of the flurry of phone calls and texts that Porsche hurls his own way. Apparently, according to Porchay, Kim has memorized all the numbers of everyone important enough to be worth his time, and doesn't bother with anyone else.

What if someone has to borrow a phone? Porsche had asked. Sucks to be them, Chay replied, with a silly smile that might mean he's kidding, or it might mean he knows exactly how ridiculous Kim is being, but still somehow likes him anyway. Porsche would prefer the former but he's almost certain it's the latter, and he's trying to figure out exactly why Chay would like him so much. Because as far as Porsche can tell? Kim is more akin to a feral cat than anything else. Keeps his distance, sullenly watches Porsche anytime they happen to be in the same room, looking away only to scan for the nearest exit - which he takes at the earliest opportunity - and Porsche is certain Kim has actually hissed at him once. Probably not. Since Kim won't answer unknown numbers, Porsche is forced to stoop to his level. Kinn's phone is of course out of the question, which only leaves one other person, at least only one Porsche can easily access, guaranteed to have it. He's holding a struggling Porchay in a headlock while the phone dials. It only rings once. "Hello, love," Kim greets, his voice warm and syrupy and so, so fond that Porsche has to gag, just to see the way his brother flushes. "I'm sorry, Kim!" Porchay shouts. He's still struggling, digging his hands into Porsche's sides. "I tried to stop him!" "Porsche." And there it is, that flat tone Porsche is used to. "Hi, Kim, how's it going?" he asks casually. "Goodbye. "Wait, wait, wait!" It's no use. The line is already dead. Porsche releases his brother with a groan, and doesn't fight it when Chay snatches back his phone. "Why does he have to be so difficult?" "Kim doesn't like being cornered, hia," Chay scolds him. "If you just talked to him like a normal person-" "He won't let me! He keeps running!" "You're intimidating!" Porsche doesn't believe that for a second. If Kinn wasn't intimated by him, no way his feral, murderous little brother was. "Maybe you're coming on too strong? He probably think you're gonna kill him for, y'know..." "No, I don't know." Porsche side-eyes Chay, who's no longer making eye contact. "Do I need to kill him?" "No!" "Should I want to?" "Hia, No!" Chay throws his hands up. "See! This is why he won't talk to you! You're embarrassing." "Good. Also, I don't care. I want to talk to him, and unless he wants me to lock you in your room and forbit you from seeing each other for the rest of your life, he better cooperate." Chay lets out a sigh like the weight of all the world is bearing down on him. "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, sullen. 

[tatesdiary]

request <3 some situation where tate is being very clingy / needy for you, or hanging out w FrankenKyle and he’s trying to tell you he loves you:)

a/n this is so fucking cute I cannot. I love both prompts but I wouldn't be able to make the Kyle one interesting (maybe I'll write it later (: ), so I'm writing the needy!tate one. Thanks for requesting and happy late Christmas 💓

summary You knew from Moira that Tate and his mother had fought, but you didn't expect for him to cling onto you all day. Did it matter when he was so cute, though?

word count 521

tags swearing/cursing, spoilers for ahs season 1

"Tate?" you call out and drop your bag onto your bed. You knew he was somewhere around - you'd basically felt his presence as soon as you had come home. 

He appears on your bed, sitting there with his legs crossed and a small pout. He was wearing the woolen sweater you loved on him and his hair was a mess. His eyes were a little red as well, reminding you of what Moira had said - he'd had a fight with his mother once again. 

"Hi, love," you chuckle and brush a hand through his hair before stepping back again to change into something more comfortable. He whines and dramatically flops down onto your bed but stays quiet. 

He hated talking about his feelings so he rather mope around and waited until you understood what he was feeling and needed. You roll your eyes playfully and take one of his shirts to put on. "So? Your mother again?" he hums, his eyes staying on your figure as you move around the room. 

"I actually need to do my homework but you know what?" he waits for further explanation and you grin, walking towards him. You sit down next to him, tugging the blanket over him, "I feel like you need my attention more than school stuff right now." 

He smiles proudly but a little flustered, his cheeks a cute pinkish color, "You're so fucking cute I forget you're a ghost sometimes," he rolls his eyes and pulls you down on top of him with a smirk. "A ghost you'd like to be haunted by?" 

You scoff and agree, watching as he leans back proudly. You knew he would never admit it but he was definitely sad right now. What better way than doting on him? You doubt he'd let you go anywhere right now anyway. 

"I can see you're needy today but I did promise Violet to meet with her in…" you pause and take a look at your phone, scrolling through the messages, "in an hour." 

"How about not meeting with her at all and staying with your super hot boyfriend?" he proposes. It makes you laugh loudly but once again you cave in and agree, pecking his forehead with a grin. How could someone be so cute? 

"Let me at least call her and let her know, baby," he shrugs and waits for you to do so. One of your hands is in his hair, playing with the unruly blonde strands. "Hi, can we maybe meet up tomorrow instead? I'm not feeling so well today," you send him a pointed look but he just smiles and how could you be mad at that? 

She agrees and you decide on another time, hanging up quickly after. "Happy?" 

"Very happy," he answers and pulls you in for a kiss. You gladly kiss back and put your other hand in his hair as well. 

It's safe to say staying home and cuddling him was worth it when it's later at night and he lays in your arms as the little spoon, sleeping soundly. 

Having him in your arms made it all worth it in the end. 

[diospore]

MHA 430, no real spoilers to the ending but I'm also discussing my au ideas under the break too so that's why I tagged spoilers and added the bar, because there's a variety of spoilers.

That was fine I guess, could've been worse... Sad no dfo but I kinda gave up on that being good 10 chapters ago. Insert Thanos I'll do it myself gif.

5.5-6/10.

I'm gonna start my analysis + reread on Saturday I think?

Here's thoughts I already have:

- Reduce amount of students in 1-A. I realized that I can't handle 20+ main characters lol. My original idea was 5, but I've got it down to 10 by fusing characters. Izuku, Aoyama, Uraraka, Shoto, and Bakugo remain the same. I'm going to review the fusions and draw them later...

Fusions:

Sero/Kaminari/Kirishima (Reason: I get them mixed up a lot.)

Iida/Momo/Ojiro (Rich kid + I like Ojiro)

Jiro/Tokoyami/Shoji (Characters with a "dark vibe" ((emo lol)))

Mina/Tsu (I'd feel bad having one and not the other)

Koda/Sato (Honestly they're here because they're the ones I think of when I think "they got shoved aside" as well as Ojiro but I like him more.) ((... Also combine their names and you get Soda....))

Most likely to be cut: Ojiro, Sato, Koda, Sero

Cut: Mineta (Obvious reasons), Hagakure (I couldn't think of anything)

I swear there's logic here but I'm unable to explain it better lol. I'm eepy.

- Bakugo will be expelled from UA in the first arc, perhaps that'll be the conclusion of it. Possibly return in a later arc, I'm thinking the vigilante arc? Minor character. Basically a starter antagonist before the stakes ramp up.

(Results in the same amount of students as OFA users! Which I think is a nice parallel.)

- First arc will be about the class bonding since I really wanted more 1-A bonding scenes. Mainly about them helping each other. (I. E. Izuku opening up about being bullied, the class helping Shoto with the Endeavor situation, etc.) Bakugo's role will be getting in the way of this. Minor antagonist.

- LOV shouldn't be introduced until after a bond is established. Sorry Shiggy my beloved, you must wait.

- All for One dies in Kamino equivalent. (Unsure of how to set this up w/o Bakugo, maybe Midoriya's the one kidnapped?) Sorry AFO I love you so so much, but I'm killing you off. You're op as hell and the kill should be All Might's. You can come back and possess people later if you're good.

- DFO will be there as well as reducing the role AFO played in Shigaraki's backstory. Increase the role in Midoriya's life (negative).

- Aizawa will have a bit of a tweak, he'll be less physically violent with the students. (Less scarf grabby, only in extreme circumstances) Also I think having a lasting injury from the Oboro incident would be a nice touch. Give him a House MD vibe with a cane??? God I fucking loved House. Gay and homophobic, what an icon.

- Eventually I want Endeavor to go to prison or face some form of consequence. Maybe death. I was also thinking about him being tricked into helping AFO out of desperation for that number one spot. Bakugo takes his place for redemption arc?

- I don't really want to kill Midnight off... Or Twice... Or like. Any of the LOV. Need to think about that... But I know Twice's death was very important, so I might have to get over it somehow.

Not saying there won't be death, it just has to make more sense to me.

-

Wrote most of this at 2 am lol so this is probably incoherent. It's not a critique of the series, it's just my idea for the au. Like I get that classes have like 20 people in them. And that characters die. That villains die even if they're children.

I think if I plan this in arcs, I'll have the best chance of finishing it.

[kazuchuu]

Shattered Glass Knock Out Headcanons

These are my personal interpretations of how Knock Out would be in the alternative Transformers universe. I’ve seen a lot of interpretations of him and I’ve also thought about it a lot, so here is an extremely self-indulgent list of purely Transformers brainrot. I just had to put this somewhere before he took over my brain.

APPEARANCE

A blue-green paint coat (the color of hospital scrubs) as the primary color. White markings, or maybe silver for a little contrast.

Bright blue optics.

The elf ears stay.

PERSONALITY

A lot of headcanons portray him as callous when it comes to his appearance, which is great! But allow me to offer: SG!Knock Out who still cares about how he looks, but for completely different reasons.

He doesn't mind being covered in scratches, marks, dents, or the like. He only hates it because it's unhygienic and thus unsuitable for a doctor's office/surgical ward.

He also thinks having a clean appearance gives off a more professional and comforting impression to his patients.

Sometimes, on bad days, it can get a bit...obsessive.

"Um, doc, didn't you already clean-" / "I HAVE TO MAKE SURE BREAKDOWN I HAVE TO MAKE SURE!!!!"

Sometimes it's funny.

"My liege, you know how I respect you, but I swear if you set a pede into this ward without disinfecting your servos at least-"

RELATIONSHIPS

Breakdown: His partner and most trusted confidante in every universe<3 Knock Out tends to worry too much about his health, and insists on a check-up after every battle. Breakdown indulges him, but also makes sure to soothe his worries.

Starscream: My idea of SG!Starscream is that he always downplays how bad his injuries actually are, leading to Knock Out running after him (or, better yet, sending Breakdown to drag him to the medical ward). I like to think they exchange the same playful quips, but with a more somber undertone, because anytime Starscream actually allows himself to stay put in the medical ward means he's been severely injured.

Megatron: Knock Out takes his duty as the leader's official physician way too seriously. He has everything organized: Megatron's daily routine, optimal energon intake, regular check-up appointments. Megatron doesn't really need all that, but he humors him because he knows this is Knock Out's way of dealing with the guilt when he can't save a patient.

OTHER DETAILS

Speaking of guilt - Knock Out is really bad at not blaming himself. When vehicons are offlined and he's forced to disassemble them, he will later still remember where each piece came from, even if it's been attached to another bot.

I like to think this version of KO still likes the art of disassembly, but less out of a delighted, morbid curiosity and more out of a desire to learn more about Cybertronian anatomy.

He still street races with humans, but again, for entirely different reasons: he's fascinated by them, and has since picked up an e-book on human anatomy. And when he street races them, he always plays fair, and takes quite a great offense if another participant doesn't follow the rules. Allow me to demonstrate.

Racer: [keys Knock Out's side door]

KO, swerving to face him: Excuse me, are you out of your mind? Why would you ever ruin the joy of a good race with this childish behavior? And I have patients, you know! What would they think of their own doctor if they saw him in such unseemly fashion?

Racer: Wh-

KO, full on ranting: And I barely squeezed this race in between my busy schedule! Now I have to go back to base, disinfect the scratch, get buffed, all in time to prepare my office for the next line of patients! Do you have any idea how demanding it is to be a doctor on a warship? Always on call! I had this one hour to myself-

[It is at this point that Breakdown shows up to calm his favorite doctor. They end up just racing together<3 ]

And that's basically all I can think of, for now. My version of SG!KO because I know I'll never write this. Feel free to add more in the tags or whatever you like :)

[mosneakers]

Coni: [Hushed tone] WHAT IS IT, TYCHO? This better be important... I have to figure out how to somehow include Erwin on my date with Glo tonight, all because I have to keep him from getting abducted and killed by aliens... all on my own. Do you have any idea how hard it is to give your boyfriend a handjob when you have a friend tagging along with you? Tycho: [Stressfully] No, definitely not. I'm sorry to bother you, Coni... And I'm really sorry I'm not there to help out with Erwin. I just need to talk. I'm currently hiding out in a tiny restaurant bathroom, Coraleye's out there with my family. She's doing great, she doesn't suspect a thing... but I'm really losing my shit here. I think I really messed up this time.

Coni: What's going on?

Tycho: I...[pauses] I erased her memory again. My cousin's boyfriend was a little juiced and let something slip, and I panicked. I'm really regretting it. And the guilt is eating away at me, I-

With a sigh, Coni's head falls in frustration, and she vigorously rubs her temples with her fingertips. Tycho explains the details of his regretful encounter from the previous night.

Tycho: I'm still supposed to be out there with her right now, like I was, enjoying dinner, talking with my relatives, trying new flavors of nectar... whatever. Yet all I could think about the entire time, is what I did to her. I ruined her. I ruined us. I hate myself, Coni.

Tycho could practically feel Coni rolling her eyes over the phone.

Coni: Okay, Tycho. You can't dwell on it. What's done is done. It's a survival instinct we have, and you felt the need to enforce it. With that being said, it's extremely harmful to her, and you have to take control of it and never let it happen again.

Tycho: You're right. I can't keep this up anymore. I've let this lie grow because I was so afraid of losing this fantasy. But that's just selfish. I owe it to her to treat her with honesty and respect. My dad swears it's not safe to tell her, but if deceiving her like this is the alternative, I don't care what he thinks. I've decided I'll tell her on this trip, like you suggested.

Coni: That was my idea? Right. Yeah, about that... I still haven't gotten you caught up on the Bella thing, have I? Tycho: The Bella thing?

Coni: Long story, details in a text later. Fell out with the Breeders. We're not talking anymore, but they said disturbing things during our fight. Erwin's a big concern now. More danger than we thought. Spending basically all my free time safeguarding him, but you know him, it's only a matter of time before he starts getting suspicious. I've been thinking about it lately... Coraleye might forgive us, maybe Sunglo, but Erwin, well... with his views on aliens, I think it might not be safe to tell anyone right now. He can be pretty unpredictable when it comes to his theories. If he found out, we'd be risking a lot, including him going public. That puts not only us at risk, but also Aurora. Believe me. I'm ready to tell Glo too, but until we can come up with a better plan to keep Erwin safe, I think we should hold off.

Tycho: Coni, I can't keep- Coni: Shut up, Tycho. Stop pretending that you're not relieved that you have an excuse to keep putting this off.

With unsteady hands, Tycho swept the stress from his brow and into his hair. He let out a sigh and adjusted his glasses, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. Tycho: Okay, well how long do I wait before I tell her? Coni: We need time. No sooner than the election. Tycho: That's still months away, Coni... I don't get it. You're the one who said I should tell her, now you're switching everything up. Coni: [Frustrated groan] Tycho, please don't try to all of a sudden do the right thing, now, when I'm telling you it's not safe. Trust me. Don't screw this up. And don't fucking tell her. Or anyone. Tycho: Okay, okay I'll wait. This is good. At least I have a solid plan. But after the election I'm telling her, regardless of who wins. I can't do this to her anymore. Coni: [Scoffs] Whatever, Tyke. Just not yet. Swear to me...

Later That Evening...

Tycho: Sorry it took so long. I was checking in with the gang back home, you won’t believe what Coni and Glo— [notices the presence of children relatives nearby] ...nevermind.

Coraleye: It's totally fine! I got to have a lovely chat with your Aunt Jenny. She's had such a fascinating life. She married an alien! Tycho: [Studies Coraleye's expression, honing in on her smile] Yeah, she's pretty extraordinary.

[nowoyas]

Koi no Yokan 22: come together (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: take two on the right blog this time lmao. next update may be delayed, but I'll keep y'all updated. between new health issues and world events writing is really difficult for me right now. thanks for understanding <3

Summary: As the training camp nears its end, your boys continue to work hard and pull it all together.

Warnings and Tags: blanket series warnings

Words: ~3200

The next day is the first that you manage to make it to lunch without cringing, and the first where you get to be in the gym all day. You push your luck as you always do, spend the night up until dinner helping Noya with his jump set—still not quite there yet—and, after dinner, shoot a text to Noya asking if he'd like to walk around the school with you, since you're supposed to be going on walks and stuff and don't feel like going it alone. Naturally, he'd been so down for it that you'd been able to watch him basically leap out of his chair from across the cafeteria once he read the text.

You kinda missed having time alone with him. You haven't really had much of any since the training camp started, and you realize with a pang that the reduced frequency is an indicator that things are back to normal—no more sleeping in his arms, no more everyone in the house you're in home before dark, no more I'm home! and casual welcome back. No I'm heading out, no see you later. No one to eat dinner with.

A finger pokes your cheek. "You're getting stuck in your head. What's up?"

Right. This is stupid. You're being stupid. "It's nothing."

An unimpressed look. "Sure it is."

You sigh. "Just thinking about what I'm gonna have to put up with when we get back."

"Your dad?"

A nod.

"That's a problem for future [name]-san, isn't it?" He tilts his head. "You're not there and it's not your problem."

"But…"

"But I know that girl. She hates it when you take work from her. If she knew you were trying to take the worry about this from her, she'd be pissed."

You pause. Laugh. "Right. You're right."

You walk a little longer with him. It's nighttime, but it's still hot. The darkness isn't doing anything to cool anything off, but you happen to like it. It feels nice. Comfortable, even though you're stuck to long pants while doing manager stuff. Maybe a bit sticky, but it's not like you're doing any running. (Maybe it feels better because you know you aren't the one stuck exercising in this heat.)

"Thanks for walking with me. I know you've probably had enough exercise this week to last you the year."

"Are you kidding? I can keep going."

You roll your eyes. "Probably shouldn't, though. Something something, rest and recovery, something, take care of your body. I think I've basically gotten my fill, anyway, so we can head back."

"I mean," he hums, "if you took better care of yourself, I might consider taking better care of myself…"

You roll your eyes. "Like you'd do anything to hurt your performance at volleyball. You'll take care of yourself."

The pair of you wander past one of the gyms, and you pause at the distinct sound of volleyball taking place. Check the time on your phone. Noya isn't far behind you when you poke your head in to look—Hinata and Tsukishima, of all people, are mid three-on-three with some guys from other schools. They're locked in, which is sort of cool to watch, but…

You wait for the ball to fall, and then you cross your arms. "Hey, you guys ate, right?"

They freeze, turn to you in comical sync.

Oh god. They haven't eaten. "The cafeteria is getting locked in three minutes. Tell me you guys ate."

Hinata shakes his head gravely. You sigh. If you remember correctly… "Alright. Hold on. You guys clean up."

You've been excluded from the rotation on account of the concussion, but the other managers have a rotating schedule on which two girls clean and lock up the cafeteria at night. Tonight's Shirofuku and Suzumeda, if you recall, the latter of which does not pick up the phone. You get Shirofuku when you try her, though.

"What's up?" she answers.

"Shirofuku-san, hi! How much do you love me?"

There's a pause before she responds. "…why?"

You take on your sweetest affect, smiling even though she can't see you. "Could you maybe hold on locking up the cafeteria for me?"

She sighs. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything! But we've got a couple stragglers who got too focused on individual practice and haven't eaten yet. You wouldn't want anyone to fall out tomorrow because they didn't eat properly, would you? Not you, Shirofuku-san. You'd never."

There's a hesitation. You hear her cover the speaker, probably to talk to Suzumeda. You pounce.

"I'll handle locking up afterwards and cleaning properly, so you guys can go ahead to bed and not miss anything."

"How about you make them handle it, Little Miss Concussion?"

You pout. "It won't be that much. You guys were basically already done, right? And it's not like it's a problem if I miss any sleep, I mean, I've got doctor's orders to take naps as needed, anyway, so if I miss out on sleep—"

"Don't you dare—" Noya interrupts beside you. You lean over, slap a hand over his mouth, and keep talking.

"I've got this. Come on, please?"

"Fine. We'll wait. But you are going to take it easy, you hear? if you don't come upstairs in time we're physically carrying you up the stairs and forcing you to sleep."

"Great!" you chirp. "Thanks so much! I've got them cleaning up, so I'll meet you and get everything ready. You're the best!"

Just as you hang up, something warm and wet lathes over your palm. You squeal, jerking away from Noya. "Did you just lick me!?"

"Sorry," Noya says with a shit-eating grin. "There was this hand over my mouth, see—"

"I'm going to have Nee-san dye that little bleached strip pink next time you bother her for a refresh," you threaten.

He laughs. "I think I could rock it."

...infuriatingly, he totally could. You turn to the six stragglers, face flaming with embarrassment. "Anyway! I got clearance to keep the cafeteria open a little longer for you guys, but obviously it'll create problems if you stay too late and we make it to curfew without being done, so I gotta ask that you guys clean up and eat quick so I can clean up in time, okay?"

You receive six synchronous bows, six shouted thanks. Pride surges in you when the volume doesn't bring about any twinges of pain.

"You're so kind to us!" a voice booms.

Your gravity lurches out of wack—at first, you think that'd be because of Fukurodani's ace (Bokuto, maybe?) rushing towards you, but then a familiar arm settles over you and you realize that Noya has pulled you squarely out of his reach. He steadies you, chin resting on your shoulder to glare at him.

Bokuto stops and pouts, arms crossed. "I just wanted to thank her for making sure we can eat tonight. Is that not okay?"

"Bokuto-san, maybe don't randomly hug someone else's girlfriend," Fukurodani's setter says.

You freeze. "Hold up. Girlfriend?"

"Are you two not dating?" Nekoma's captain asks.

Noya's arm over your shoulder tightens protectively. "Not yet, but she's still off-limits."

"Excuse me, yet?" You turn to glare at him. He raises an eyebrow back.

"Yet."

You snort, roll your eyes. "Right. Okay. Anyways, we all need to hurry, so..." You wriggle out of his hold.

He's so convinced you'll fall in love with him. Like it's that easy. Stupid.

So you meet up with Shirofuku and Suzumeda. The guys trail not far behind—they get leftovers, and they're cold, but it's dinner and they're grateful to you. They go out of their way to avoid making a mess, and Noya lingers by to help you finish cleaning and lock up even though you repeatedly tell him he doesn't have to. He's so pushy. What pisses you off the most is the fact that you can't even be honestly annoyed with it. You lock up, you get to sleep on time, all six of the Stragglers Squad thanks you with their lives, and the next morning—last day of the camp—you settle in for morning practice like always.

When Hinata pulls off some new move—a wipe, Shimizu calls it—Yachi smiles at you and says, "I hope that new quick comes together soon, too."

"Same," you reply back.

~

Her wishes do not go unanswered. The final set of the training camp—imbued with energy from the promise of impending grilled meat and emboldened by Yachi's gentle mention to Hinata that she'd like to see that new quick they're working on—sees the first truly satisfying spike you've seen from Hinata in a while, your head notwithstanding. It takes you too long to recognize that they'd done it, that that was the new quick. It doesn't look much different to you, or to Takeda, apparently, but it's all about options, apparently, and now Hinata has those.

As Yachi cheers beside you, and the guys yell, you can't help but feel a little proud that they managed to make it work. You kinda wanna tell Kageyama I told you so, but you'll let them have this. The set moves on—a successful synchronized attack, a time out, water bottles and towels and excitement and Noya taking a moment to flash that wide grin at you.

"Wait, [name]-san," he says before you can walk away to set down the water bottle caddy, "for good luck—marry me?"

You roll your eyes, turn to pat his shoulder. "I don't think you really need the luck, but why don't you get that set to come together and ask another eight hundred and eighty-six times or so and I'll think about it in the meantime?"

His face lights up as always, and you watch him practically bounce back into position on the court.

It takes two points for the opportunity to come—a receive by Kageyama, and then Noya flowing easily into the set, which Azumane spikes and just barely manages to get in. But he gets it in.

It comes together.

Holy shit, it came together.

You grab at Yachi's arm in your excitement as she cheers—nice kill!—and try to contain yourself. Your first thought had been to cheer with her, but the second thought was swift and much louder—he'll never let you live it down if you do.

He catches your eye as you try to tamp down the smile. Gestures wildly. You roll your eyes in reply. You're sure later you'll receive a tackle for it, but you can try to avoid it, at least.

~

Fukurodani takes the last set with a truly impressive spike from Bokuto. You can't even really be mad that the gambit to crush him didn't really pull through, least of all when Noya sweeps you off your feet in celebration of his first successful in-game jump set.

"So, since I got it to come together—"

"Eight hundred and eighty-five or no deal," you interrupt, voice a little strained from the ongoing bear hug.

That earned you another nine proposals, rapid-fire, like you weren't in the middle of the gym and wriggling to get free, but it's fine, you guess. More important than proposals 106 through 115 is the barbecue, which you manage to escape for in hopes of helping out with.

And everyone is happy with the barbecue. When it kicks off, you find a corner to linger in with Tsukishima. The amount of people is just a bit... overwhelming, that's all. Tsukishima's corner is quiet. It's a good pick.

You can't help but needle him, though. You can only take so much quiet, only so much room to think. "I think that those moments today where things started working are why everyone else works so hard. That's where their passion is coming from."

He sighs. "I gathered. I don't get it, but I think I at least see it. It still feels stupid to just chase a high like that, but..."

You shrug. "Better than walking aimlessly, I guess."

He nods. "Right."

You sigh. The smell of meat is getting to you. "I'll leave you to your skulking," you say. "I'm gonna see if these guys will let me get close to any of the grills."

He nods you away, and you make it all of four steps before you spot a disaster-in-progress in the form of a trembling Yachi, surrounded by basically the four beefiest dudes at the entire camp, including Azumane.

You swoop in quick, gesture to them to step back. "Woah, hey. You're looking a little overwhelmed, Yachi-san. Do you wanna go sit?"

She nods weakly, face deathly pale. You shoot an apologetic look to the guys. "Sorry. I think the crowd's overwhelming her. C'mon, let's go sit with the girls and I'll get your food for you. How's that sound?"

"O-okay..."

"Can I touch you?"

Another weak nod. You place a hand on her shoulder, steer her over towards the other managers at a careful pace. Your firm "excuse me!"s cut through the guys well enough. You suppose there's an advantage to basically everyone knowing you have a concussion. When she's sat down, you kneel in front of her with a look of concern. "Are you gonna be okay?"

She nods. "Y-yeah. Sorry, I just... they're all so big and scary and... I-I know we've been around them all week, and even Azumane-san was there, b-but..."

"It's okay. Seriously. You're allowed to have anxiety, no matter what anyone says. Do you still want to eat?"

"Y-yeah. Maybe. I don't know."

"I'll get a plate with enough for both of us, then, and bring it back."

"Y-you don't have to—" she starts to protest, but you raise a hand to silence her.

"I'm choosing to. You're not making me do anything. It takes no extra effort to just take a little bit extra of what I get while I'm already getting it."

"B-but your head..."

"Will be fine. I'm supposed to be gently pushing myself, right? This is a good gentle push. If it gets too hard, we can send someone else. Alright?"

"Okay..."

You nod to Suzumeda and Shirofuku. "Can you two keep an eye on her and talk to her? Just a distraction to help her calm down. When I'm back, I can walk her through calming down the rest of the way if she needs it."

They nod, and you disappear into the crowd—get a small pile of meat for you and one for Yachi, pile up some vegetables on top to balance it. You're not all that hungry, but you suppose after nearly passing out like that, she probably isn't, either.

For good measure, one rice ball for each of you makes its way onto the pile as you wind your way back, and then you slump into the chair beside her and offer her food. You pick at your own, focus more on letting her get her fill than eating, yourself. The meat smells delicious, but...

You can't shake it. Can't shake the loom and gloom, the knowledge that, after this, you're going home. To your house. To your house.

Your eyes drift to watching everyone mingle as Yachi goes from shaking to calm, from having to be fed to being able to eat on her own.

You promised your dad you'd come home and talk then. You don't know what he could possibly say to you, if anything could make his absence better. You probably deserved it, anyway. You should be the one apologizing. It's not like he killed your mom. His wife. The woman he loved more than anything.

Your eyes trace Shimizu, sauntering obliviously through the crowd of guys to get her food. Maybe you should just find Noya and hang out with him. He's good at distracting you. You're sure he'd be thrilled to be hanging out with a girl at one of these, anyhow. He's just so easy to be around.

But right now, he's not far behind Shimizu, flanked by Tanaka and Mohawk guy. Glaring, probably audibly growling. Letting some guys from Fukurodani know, in no uncertain terms, to lay off.

A hand tugs you out of your thoughts, forces you to turn to the other girls.

Suzumeda leans in, devilish grin on her lips. At some point, Miyanoshita and Otaki also joined you, so, save for Shimizu, all the managers are present. "So, [name]-chan."

"Yeah?"

"We've been good. We've been patient. But you're about to go home—" Gee, thanks for the reminder. "—and we can't let you leave without answers."

Ugh. This is about Noya, isn't it? You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"What is the deal with him?" Otaki asks. "I mean, you guys are really obviously super close. Like, really obviously. And you know, we're nosy... why aren't you dating him?"

"Him?" You snort.

"Yeah! He clearly likes you, you like to act tough but I'm pretty sure you like him, I mean... why not?"

You jerk your chin towards where he's patrolling around Shimizu, chewing your lip hard enough to punish. "Does it look like he likes me, or does it look like he likes girls and I just happen to be one who pays attention to him?"

"[name]-chan…"

They have more to say in response, but you refuse to entertain it. Instead, you zone out Shimizu-ways, watch her remain blissfully unapproached as the trio does their sworn duty. Noya does his job well.

"Yachi-san," you interrupt suddenly.

She jolts. "What's up?"

"Can I borrow your bus pillow when we leave today? My head's kinda starting to hurt but I can't sleep on the bus without resting my head on the window. You can probably imagine how much that will not help me at all."

"Oh, uh, sure! I don't mind! Do you want me to go ask Sensei about your painkillers?"

You shake your head. "I should be fine. It's not that bad, I just need to sleep it off."

Doubtful that you actually sleep.

~

On the bus a short hour or so later, clad in your bus hoodie—well-worn, faded, and cozy without making you overheat—you rest your head on the borrowed pillow and try to keep your eyes closed. You don't want to see the look on Noya's face when he realizes you've taken a seat on the side of the bus with single-seat rows.

You hear it, though. Footsteps stuttering to a stop, then Yachi's voice.

"Oh, she said her head was bothering her, so she was just going to nap."

You can actually hear the pout in his voice. "Am I not a good enough pillow…?"

"Oi, Nishinoya. Keep moving," Ennoshita says. "We all have to get on the bus, you know."

"Right. Yeah, sorry. Ryuu! I'm coming to sit with you!"

The footsteps continue. You pull your hood over your head and try to shove down the guilt. When your phone buzzes, you flinch.

Noya to [name] at 14:13

Noya: [image attached. Image description: Soba with her mouth open and both front paws in the air, batting at something out of focus in the foreground.]

Noya: Soba fighting off your headache. get some good rest for me, ok?

Somehow, this doesn't help your guilt. It doesn't help it one bit.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[tarabyte3]

I Want You to Show Me Weak

Fandom: Andor

Pairing: Kino Loy/F!Reader

Chapter 24/27 (3.9k words)

-> start at chapter 1 <-

<- Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 ->

Summary: You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

Warnings: Explicit rating, Smut, Prison, Prison sex, minor non-graphic injuries, Dom/Sub, sexual tension, dirty talk, praise, hair-pulling, choking, unprotected sex, oral, angst, orgasm denial, humiliation, slut shaming, references to domestic abuse, discussion of domestic abuse, minor violence, discussion of violence, description of violence, come eating, discussion about sexual assault, allusion to sexual assault

A/N: Hello, friends. It has been many months, but here I am working on finishing this fic. I split what was originally going to be 1 chapter into 2 parts (it got really long, which was overwhelming 😅). So this chapter is a little shorter with no smut, but a week from today will be the rest of it and that will have PLENTY of smut. After not posting something in so long, I just wanted to get something published to stimulate the Kino center of my brain to inspire me to write more. That way I can get this finished sooner rather than later! Also PLEASE take note of the new tags. There is a discussion about hypothetical harassment and assault in this chapter, but no description or specifics are mentioned.

Work title is from "Poison" by Vaults. Chapter title is from "Delicate Dream" by Shana Halligan.

AO3 Link

Chapter 24 - Well, you reap what you sow, and I know that you know what we have is a chance to get off while we can

"Okay, so tell us again exactly how you knew about the fucking floors. Because I'm still confused," Alis says as you both work the joint cylinder into place. He's clearly gotten over being angry at you at this point, which means he's circled back around to being chatty. Not that you're complaining.

"Yeah, I'm actually really curious about it as well." Taybus perks up across from the two of you. "Considering, well, you know…"

"Don't look at me! That was all Threl." You jerk your head in his direction.

Everyone peers over their work to eye Threl expectantly. Even Jevid gives him a bored look, which translates to downright curious when it comes to the grizzled, older man.

"It wasn't that difficult." Threl shrugs off all of your stares without even looking up.

"He's being modest. It was fucking brilliant," you say to the rest of the pod as you pick up your wrench. "Come on, tell them! If I do it, I'll just mess it up."

"Alright. If it will get you all back to work, then fine." Threl lets out a sigh of resignation. Then he straightens up, pulling himself to his full height—the muscle memory of Threl the engineer still ingrained within him, even years later on the other side of the galaxy. It gives you one more glimpse into what he must have been like before prison. "Look, you all know I used to build starships. The construction of the interior rooms and halls isn't that much different than the way they designed this place. Different function maybe, but I know how they think in terms of utility and cost. So when I look at the layout of this place and what kind of things made it into the final blueprints, I know what would have been scrapped to save time and money. You know?" 

"I absolutely do not know," Taybus laughs, "but keep talking and pretend I do."

"Okay. Everything from the layout of this room to the connecting bridges and the design of our cells was once a blueprint. The first draft was rough and bulky and contained a lot of extras. Probably amenities that would have made our lives a little better," he frowns at that last part, "but no one was going to approve it. They don't care about us and they want cheap, so every draft afterwards was more streamlined. They kept cutting and cutting until it was as basic and functional as you can make it without losing value."

"So they…cut more floors?" Taybus's face is scrunched in a nearly comical attempt at concentration.

"Don't hurt yourself, dude," you mutter. Alis chokes on a laugh next to you and coughs politely to cover it up.

Threl sighs through his nose and shakes his head in disappointment at you before turning his attention back to Taybus. "You're half right. Bare tunqstoid steel panels on the floor, easy to install. Reliable. You know exactly how much electricity they conduct and that they'll do exactly as intended. They're necessary to keep us in line. It's also expensive to cover every inch of this place. Not to mention the extra weight of the panels and structural support needed to compensate for it…that drives the bill up, too." Threl pauses so everyone can take a step back.

"Clear," Jevid grumbles. The center console comes to life as the next piece lifts to slot into place. You all move in unison, like a well rehearsed dance, to lift it so it can be rotated.

"Do you see bare panels up the walls? Or anywhere in the cells other than the floor?" Threl glances around the group, waiting for an answer.

"No," Sorrek responds quietly from across the table. There's a pensive look on his face and you can tell he's curious about where this explanation is going.

"That means, if they were there, they would be under the molded plastic where we can't see them."

"And they don't work under plastic?" Taybus hesitates before getting back to work.

"Correct!" Threl smiles widely at him. There's a hint of pride on his face as he glances over. "When you put plastic over metal, it's usually as an insulator. Because plastic doesn't conduct electricity…unless you mix the plastic with something that does conduct electricity during the molding process. Then the electric current travels along those particles instead. But doing that makes the parts more expensive. The current that can pass through the plastic also isn't as strong as the bare metal. That makes it unreliable. So you tell me what's more likely. That the Empire paid to have the walls and benches in every inch of this place lined with tunqstoid steel and a composite plastic of conductive filler or that they saved money by cutting those plans for the final blueprint and just wanted us to think they put them there?"

"They're definitely cheap. Hence," you add, "no panels or sensors in the benches."

Jevid and Sorrek exchange a look of shock. You wonder how many years both of them have been living with the acceptance of the lie. You also wonder what else about this place has been blindly accepted as truth.

As you glance around, you can't help but notice that the walls don't seem quite so oppressive anymore. Especially now that you understand on a much deeper level that that's all they are.

"Damn, Threl." Alis lets out a long whistle.

"See? Told you. Fucking brilliant." You give Threl a stare that says 'I told you so,' which he pointedly ignores.

"Wow dude. You're really smart." Taybus gapes at him.

"Yeah," Threl laughs as his posture finally relaxes back into the man you're more familiar with. "I know my way around this shit. I did it for over a decade."

"Wasted in here on this bullshit," you grumble.

"Don't disagree." He shrugs. "Unfortunately, when you start sabotaging the Empire's plans and they catch you, they don't just slap you on the wrist and let you keep your job. I'm lucky I didn't end up someplace worse than this."

"Well, I appreciate it a lot," Taybus says with a sincerity that makes him look almost sweet. Almost. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, kid." Threl puts a hand on his shoulder and gives him a gentle shake. "Just enjoy it."

"You get laid?" You smirk at him.

"No." His cheeks redden, but it doesn't hinder the look of excitement that spreads across his face. "We finally made out, though!"

"Hell yeah, man!" Alis stands on his tiptoes as he reaches over the table to give Taybus a high-five.

"Congratulations!" You beam at him. "Nice, isn't it?"

"Yes." He ducks his head as he blushes some more, and a strand of hair comes loose from his ponytail to hang in his face. He tucks it behind his ear and breaks out into a goofy smile. "It's really nice. I get why you were so annoying now."

"Hey!" You protest, only mildly offended. It's not like you disagree.

"Were?" Alis pipes up next to you.

Scratch that. Now you're properly offended. "Oh, is this what we're doing now that we got the excitement about the floors out of the way?" You yank the soldering gun off of the table. "Picking on me?"

"You make it really easy, to be fair," Threl teases.

You let out a noise of disgust. "Fine. Go ahead. You can't hurt my feelings because I know Kino will just kiss them better later."

"Gross," Taybus mumbles. You smirk at him.

"Yeah, that's right." You lean in his direction and lower your voice. "Keep teasing and I'll talk about how good he is at it, too."

"I'm pretty sure most of us have heard already." Alis gives you a knowing look. Next to him, Sorrek shakes his head in disapproval—though whether it's directed at you or Alis, you're not sure—while Taybus and Threl snicker at your expense. "Besides, you think that will deter me? You're going to have to try harder than that."

"God, you're obnoxious. Why are we friends again?"

"I grow on people." He grins.

"Like a fungus, maybe," you mutter.

"Fungus is very useful, so thank you for the compliment." His grin widens to an intolerable degree.

You roll your eyes as you work the soldering gun on the joint. While you do, you're surprised to find that, despite how much you brushed it off, being teased about last night bothers you. Not on your own behalf, though.

On Kino's.

When you finish, you straighten back up and clear your throat.

"Listen, since Alis brought it up, I know all of you heard me last night and I want to apologize for it. Clearly we got complacent and weren't being as respectful as we should have been. I'm really sorry. It'll never happen again." You can feel your face burning with embarrassment as your expression turns sheepish. "I'm absolutely mortified. So you guys are welcome to tease me about it if you want. I deserve it, honestly. Just…do me one favor and please make sure he isn't nearby to accidentally overhear when you do. Alright?"

Jevid grunts, which you assume is an agreement, and Sorrek nods, also looking a little embarrassed at the memory. You can't imagine what shade of red he turned after it happened. You also can't imagine either of them—or Edii—doing the teasing. They aren't the ones you're worried about.

"No problem, kid." Threl says easily. And it's no surprise he would agree to something for Kino's benefit. Or yours, for that matter.

Next to him, Taybus makes a face. "Why? He overhears us teasing you all the time."

"Because," you shift your attention to the part as you get back to work, "this will actually upset him."

"What's the big deal? Is he embarrassed because people know you're having sex in your free time now?"

"It's a big deal because it's him." You say it as though that should be obvious.

"He's still gotta be the shift manager after this." Threl tries to explain when Taybus continues to look unconvinced.

"Do the managers take a vow of celibacy or what?" He scoffs.

"No, but there's an inherent power imbalance between him and her." There's the cranking of a wrench as Threl works through the conversation. "That's enough to get people focused on them more than, say, you and your boyfriend. No offense."

"Plus," you interject when you see Taybus opening his mouth to protest, "if people are gossiping about us, he'll think of it as a distraction. Distracted people work slower, get lower numbers, and make mistakes. Mistakes lead to injuries or worse. They draw attention. He'd rather they didn't think about us at all. We're all safer that way."

"And he's right," Jevid adds in his gruff voice. "The last thing you want in here is them keeping tabs." He jerks a crooked thumb up towards the viewing window for emphasis. "That's why Kino runs the floor the way he does. Good numbers mean they leave you alone."

"Besides, you all remember what Wem pulled. Not everyone is gonna politely gossip or chuckle about it. Some of them are definitely pissed." You shoot a dark glance over at Wem's table.

"Why would they be pissed?" Taybus follows your line of sight, but with less subtlety.

"Jealousy, do you remember?" Edii finally speaks up. "There are some who did not look happy for her last night."

"Let me guess," you sigh. "Table 4 again?"

He nods. "Most. I see others, too. A few."

"Jealous of what? Of Kino?" Then after another second of thought, Taybus nervously adds, "Of her??"

You choose to ignore his last comment. Because they should be jealous. Kino is a fucking catch.

"They think he plays favorites. That because of her, he favors our table best." Edii stares at Taybus with a hint of his old irritation, clearly bothered he has to spell it out. "They are also mad they do so poorly in their numbers, so they blame us because that is easier than accepting they work bad together."

"Okay, so they bitch about it. So what? I seriously don't understand what the big deal is." Taybus still looks confused and you know it's because, for him, it is that simple. He's still young. The world hasn't taken on as many shades of grey yet.

You toss your soldering gun down heavily on the table to get his full attention. When his head jerks in your direction, you give him a serious look—though you do your best to keep your tone patient despite the frustration.

"I'm gonna forgive the ignorance here, Taybus. I know you don't mean anything by it. It's easy to forget some things when we're over here bullshitting half the shift. But take a look around you and remember one really important detail. Something I have to keep in the back of my mind every moment of every day." Taybus glances around the floor while you continue talking. "I am one woman trapped in here with a bunch of men."

The rest of the table freezes. You watch them exchange uneasy looks out of the corner of your eye while Taybus processes what you mean.

"Now, I feel completely safe around you guys, and I'm lucky we're usually stuck together. I think some of the other guys out there seem like decent men, too. The shitty thing about being a woman or someone vulnerable is that thinking someone is decent doesn't always keep you safe. What if someday some asshole decides bitching isn't enough? What if they think that I, or Kino, need to be taught a lesson? Or they want to take out some frustration in a more active way, so they sneak back while I'm taking a shift break?" You let the implication hang in the air. Taybus's eyes finally go wide in realization and horror.

"Then one of us takes our break with you!" He protests.

"You know we can't, kid. It's one at a time from the tables so we don't get behind." Threl gives you a regretful look. Your face softens in appreciation. You know he's right, but you also know that he would do it in a heartbeat if he could.

"That's bullshit! Surely Kino would make an exception for her." Taybus jabs a thumb in your direction.

"Then he's seen as playing favorites for sure and that pisses them off further." You put a hand on your hip as you step back from the table. "Clear."

"If they touch you, I'll deal with them." Sorrek stares at you with that cold rage you've seen a few times now. The kind that sends an uneasy shiver up your neck. You know it isn't directed at you. That's not why. You worry for him and how he would feel afterwards if he did something he couldn't take back. Or if he got stuck in here longer, away from his wife. From his daughter.

"I know you would." You give him an affectionate, sad smile. "But that would just prevent it from happening a second time."

Sorrek's face falls, the dangerous threat immediately shifting into helplessness. Jevid shoos him away from the machine before he can protest. Or start tearing up.

"It's not just that. What if a group of them decides they don't have to listen or be respectful out of spite? Maybe they even do it on purpose to make it look like Kino can't control his men and isn't fit to lead because they want the guards to replace him as shift manager. Imagine having an asshole like Wem as a manager. Sure, Kino's a hardass, but he's fair and he's a good man. But someone cruel with the perks and the power of that position?" Not to mention the ability to keep the two of you apart out of spite, you think to yourself.

"Wait, they could really do that? Put someone else in charge of the floor?" Taybus is starting to look even more worried.

You turn to look at Sorrek, Jevid, and Threl with an eyebrow raised. "You guys have been here the longest. Could they?"

"They choose whenever a floor needs a new one. I guess it's possible." Sorrek answers carefully.

"They could." Jevid gives you a confident, hard stare. "Not only could they, it wouldn't be good for him either. Never seen it done, but they'd probably add more shifts to his sentence and he'd be back at a table."

Taybus stares at him in shock, as if he's waiting for Jevid to suddenly take it back. When he doesn't, he stares dejectedly down at the table. "Damn. That's all fucked." 

"It's all fucked indeed," you sigh.

"Okay. What should we do, then?" Taybus glances around at the rest of you for answers. "We keep an eye on her, obviously. Especially during breaks. Then we also…keep an eye out to help Kino so our lives aren't even more miserable?" Taybus's face scrunches in disgust. "God, never thought I'd say that."

Edii waves a dismissive hand at him. "I will keep an eye out on ones that look…what is the word? Suspicion?"

"Suspicious," Taybus mutters to him.

Edii continues on like he didn't hear him. "If they say or do anything, I will know."

You smile fondly at him. "Thank you, Edii."

"I was going to do so anyway. I keep a look out a lot of the time I have been in here already. Many people ignore me. I hear a lot." He turns to stare directly at you. "Incredible hearing." And then he nods seriously.

"You're damn right," you chuckle. "Sorry I ever thought it was a curse."

"It is alright. Makes people uncomfortable when they realize what I hear." He gives you a piercing, knowing look. You shift awkwardly in your spot as you remember that morning and all the filthy things you and Kino did and said to each other. You're confident no one else heard. You're now far less confident Edii didn't.

"Hey, wait!" Taybus perks up like he just remembered something. "I know Vage's table would be on our side. Table 1 is pretty cool."

"Oh, we drawing battle lines now?" Threl teases him.

"No!" Taybus protests. "Just, you know, in case."

Alis gives him an exaggerated wink and a nod of encouragement. Taybus gives him, what he thinks, is a subtle thumbs up in return.

"No, none of that," you gently scold both of them. "Look. I'm not saying any of that is going to happen, it's all just worst case scenario. I'm not saying someone will definitely try to corner me or harass me or hurt me. Or that suddenly me getting laid will turn into a riot. In fact, I'm not actually worried about any of it. All I'm saying is…" Your face softens with affection as you turn to look where Kino is standing on the other side of the room, bent over his tablet. He's frowning intently at something, and the way his forehead wrinkles and his lips pout in disapproval makes your heart flutter. "He is. There's a lot that could go wrong every single day and he's stressed about it. All the time. Because he thinks everything is his responsibility. I just don't want to remind him of what happened and add to that." You turn back to them with a pleading look. "Okay?"

"You love him very much." Edii gives you a rare, half smile.

Your cheeks burn hot and you look down at the table, embarrassed, because now the entire pod knows and is staring at you with various degrees of amusement and softness. It's almost too much attention, and it feels worse than when they all learned you were having sex. Because this is exposing your heart and laying bare your vulnerability, while sex is just sex. 'Which was also because of Edii,' you internally grumble. Okay, maybe his hearing is a bit of a curse.

"I do," you respond quietly.

Edii nods, as if he already knew the answer and you were simply confirming it for him. Then he returns to work, just like that. You do still admire his ability to readily accept something and move forward. However, you're less enthused about him bluntly supplying the table with updates about your love life. You wonder if that's just an Edii thing, or if it's a natural, open topic where he comes from.

"Fine, alright," Taybus relents with a huff. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"I was never going to let him hear anyway, are you crazy? The man could probably toss me halfway across the room if he wanted." Alis shudders. "And if he heard me making fun of you, he would definitely want to."

"Oh, yeah, he would definitely want to." You grin wickedly at him. "And I promise, from experience, he probably could."

Taybus groans again.

The rest of your shift continues on with more teasing until they finally get bored with it. Partially because you threaten to supply them with more intimate details since they're clearly so interested in your love life. Alis is, of course, the last one to relent, but only after Sorrek has turned a concerning shade of red and looks dangerously close to tears.

Then they start badgering Taybus to tell them the plot to another one of Vage's holonovels. Not because Taybus is a particularly good storyteller—he'll frequently forget a detail and have to backtrack to fill in the blanks, making everyone else groan in frustration—but because it's something to pass the time.

And the easy camaraderie really does make the time go by faster rather than focusing solely on the work. As you talk and listen, your hands move automatically over the parts, expertly repeating the pattern almost as an afterthought. It would be easy to lose yourself in the rhythm.

You don't, though. You can't help but be aware of every passing hour. Nine.

You laugh at one of Alis's terrible jokes so hard your stomach hurts. Kino has to walk by the table to scold all of you and tell you to stop messing around and pick up the pace. You glance up at the clock. Eight.

Sorrek tells a story about one of his fights in a house so packed, the crowd ignored their seats to push and shove against the ring to get a better view of the main event. He was convinced the ropes were going to buckle under the pressure and that the match would be called when the crowd swarmed the ring. Jevid's heard this one before. Seven.

Threl once altered ship blueprints to include hallways that went nowhere and closed ventilation systems that cycled back into themselves rather than properly vent through the filters, which would cause a steady buildup of carbon monoxide. They caught the first one before construction began. They didn't catch the second one until afterwards, and whole sections had to be scrapped and rebuilt. "That's the trick," he says. "You distract them with one hand so the other can do more damage." You notice a look on Edii's face—a thoughtful concentration—and you wonder what he's thinking. Six.

One more down. Five now, and soon that will pass, too. You smile around your table.

One less hour until the end of your shift. One less hour in your sentence.

One less hour separating you from Kino.

A/N: As a reminder, the next chapter is coming out a week from today! And as a heads up: There are only 3 chapters left before the fic is over, so 27 chapters total. (I know 😭)

Also I have the most rudimentary understanding of how electricity works, so please do not @ me if I'm wrong because I simply don't care that much. What I do know is the floors in Narkina 5 shouldn't work at all, but they do because space magic. So anything I got wrong is clearly just more space magic 😂 I just wanted to take the opportunity to give more of Threl's backstory and show off how cool he is. He's from Naboo and he worked for Theed Engineering (for the other Star Wars nerds: they built Governor Tarkin's personal starship.)

NEXT CHAPTER->

[dooplissss]

Long time lurker, saw your tag, go off about emmett and his gf im nosy.

thank you beloved i am kissing you if you so desire

ok. god. where do i start. ok so my oc Emmett is my newest dnd pc, he's. his life sucks so much.

my beautiful little guy had this lovely life on top of a mountain in the town of Annona, a quaint colorful place that is a bit of a tourist destination. His dad died about 8 years ago, right before his family adopted his little brother Eliseo, and so Emmett and Eliseo are really close to their mom Jazmin. They run a small restaurant together and importantly Emmett's dad was essentially the spiritual leader for the town for their goddess Mama Pallay (pal-lay), so losing him put the whole town in a bit of a tizzy. It wasn't said outloud that Emmett had to take his place but it certainly was implied, he just wasn't ready to take it up yet. Maybe someday, just not now.

Cue Marasmus, a little mushroom on the hillside that was plucked and sold at the farmers market, where Jazmin picked him up and served him to Emmett for dinner. She didn't know what would happen next, she really didn't and she's gonna seem like a bad guy but she isn't. Emmett ate this mushroom and it began to eat him alive, putting Emmett to sleep and walking and talking in his place until Emmett was barely conscious for months at a time.

Then one night at a congregation Emmett was about to feed a mushroom to his brother and it Woke Him Up, he wasn't asleep inside his body anymore. And he ran, he went home and packed his things as fast as he could only for his mom to block his way. And she knew that voice in his head, Marasmus, by name, begged Emmett to stay. Emmett escaped her grasped and ran away from home as far as he could, all while this voice in his head is yelling at him to turn back.

And he's been running ever since, while this awful thing possessing him tears him down and tells him he should feed people mushrooms that he doesn't understand the purpose of. He's done some dangerous things to get rid of this thing but nothing works, it always brings him back to life with more and more rot every time. So now he's a Pact of the Undead Warlock and hates every second of it

Then comes Yulissa, this lovely 6'6 deer firbolg who is so sweet to him. They run an errand together where she accidentally gets dunked into the ocean and Emmett offers her his gloves and she's immediately like. Oh. This man is so sweet. I think I'm a little in love with him. and Emmett (and me) is completely oblivious to this until later on he divulges some of his story and Yulissa promises she's here for him, he's not alone anymore, and he instantly falls in love against his better judgement. he has nothing he can give to her but she doesn't ask for anything other than to like her, not even love her just tolerate her and he can't help being head over heels for her

And now it turns out Yulissa is supposed to be a human sacrifice and over his already dead body will that happen, he's gone from so woe-is-me to I need to save her and I'll do anything it takes to get there, we will get our happy ending, I need her to see her worth just as she sees the worth in me. also they are purple and yellow bc i love complementary couples so much and they just AUGH

like he's basically a shambling corpse thats slowly rotting away and this person sees him and says 'I'm going to protect you, you've been through enough, let me help you' when all he's heard in his ear is consume consume consume i'm. i'm crazy about them. i could go on and on and on and i sure have i'm just having such a fun time with them. and it helps that the friend i'm playing in the space with is so fun and always has such brilliant ideas about them and we're just circling each other around this sweet little ship that could and i'm just having blast ok post over

[irisviel101]

Question for Beyblade Metal: if you could have given the Star Fragments to previous characters instead making new characters, who would it been and why?

Hi!

Good question. I've never considered this before but it's a really neat idea. Thanks for the ask!

Edit: This ended up being a loooong since I decided that some of the story beats didn't work with the character changed so I basically rewrote Metal Fury. Sorry for the long response and for straying so much from the topic, but I felt that it was relevant sicne I can't just change the major characters without it affecting the plot at least a little.

I would keep Gingka, Kyoya and Ryuuga/Kenta's Star Fragments the same since their arcs played out well enough that I can't imagine anyone taking their places.

For the winter Star Fragment, the two main candidates I can think of are Masamune and Benkei (Monoceros and Taurus). I am tempted to say Masamune but I think it would be great for Benkei's arc too, and Masamune will be the red herring just like he was in canon. It would give Benkei a way to compete with the main crew of Metal Fury and show how far he's come since his introduction in the first season.

Another reason is that all the seasonal bladers have their constellations best seen in the second months of their respective seasons, except for Kenta which is third. This symbolizes that they are the second generation of legendary bladers — the first being the ones from history — and Kenta is a third generation since he received his Star Fragment from Ryuuga. Similarly, Taurus is also best seen in January, same as Orion, while Monoceros is best seen in Februrary. Masamune would be a better pick from a meta perspective if there was a third generation of legendary bladers.

Anyway, it would be the last Star Fragment to be awakened in the season; I would play up Benkei's insecurities starting from the Tag Team Tournament arc and that would be the thing to hold him back for the majority of the season, despite all his efforts, until the Better Island Tournament. I dunno who I would choose to be his opponent in the finals — maybe Kenta for old times' sake or Masamune since either would boil down to who is the legendary blader amongst them. The one I'm leaning towards the most, though, is Kyoya. It would be so thematically appropriate, since Benkei has always been Kyoya's number one supporter and he's the one Benkei feels the need to prove himself to the most. I don't remember if Kyoya is there in canon or not, but if he isn't, I would just place his return earlier. But more on that later.

Regardless, this would be the time for Benkei to overcome his feelings of having fallen behind the rest of the group and that would help him awaken the Star Fragment.

Since King won't exist in this AU, Masakune can have his breakdown moment with someone from Team Dungeon or Gingka.

As for the solar system bladers, well, that's a less obvious choice. Also, most of the new characters have a reference to their planet in their beys. Jupiter and Saturn are the Roman names of Zeus and Kronos in mythology which are also the names of Dynamis and Aguma's beys respectively. Mars is the Roman name of the Greek god of war, Ares, and King's Bey is called Variares and is also called the "Sword of the Gods" in canon myths. Not to mention their personalities but I'll talk about them separately.

Since Yuki wouldn't exist in this AU, there needs to be a different way for everyone to learn about Johannes, but honestly, the start isn't that much different. Pegasus and Leone evolve the same way, Madoka and Benkei recall the night they got their Start Fragments and Gingka and Ryo make the connection to the Koma Village legend. At first, they don't really take any action on it but they do keep an eye out for any strange occurrences in the news and tell everyone they know to do the same.

(Because of this delay, Yuu and Tsubasa are able to leave on their training journey together with only words of caution from Ryo and Hikaru)

Then, Johannes attacks Gingka to try and steal Pegasus. He fails but manages to escape, and the gang decide that he could be a danger to other people as well so they search for him. They eventually find him and overhead him talking to Pluto and discover the Nemesis cult through that instead.

Then they discover the island where they find Ryuuga and things play out similar to canon except there's no Yuuki, so they only discover one legendary instead of two. Kenta begins to consider leaving the group but he stops because he isn't sure if following Ryuuga is a wise option since he could probably leave him to die somewhere and succeed.

Fast forward to the Tag Team tournament and since Yuuki isn't here to be Gingka's partner, Kenta gets to do that instead. Except Gingka does pretty much all the work with his new bey, further reinforcing Kenya's feeling of uselessness, much like Benkei. Their first battle is Da Shan and Chi Yun instead of Chao Xin and Mei Mei.

Instead of the Beylin Fist not existing at all, I decided to make them antagonists for this one arc. So Aguma still exists and is still insanely powerful, so he eventually gets to the semifinals where he has to fight Chao Xin and Mei Mei. This battle helps Chao Xin awaken his Star Fragment and become the legendary blader of Saturn.

The reason I chose Chao Xin is because in astrology Saturn is associated with obligation, structure, rules and ambition to name a few (according to Google, correct me if I'm wrong). These values define Aguma's character in Metal Fury but in Chao Xin's case, it would be less about him learning these things and more about reinforcing the lessons he has learned in the previous season and showing how much he has grown since them.

Because Aguma wouldn't have a Star Fragment, the Beylin Fist would lose, but Chao Xin would extend an olive branch to dissolve this centuries long feud anyway, saying that they aren't their ancestors and they don't deserve to be ostracized for something they personally didn't do, to show how much he has grown and matured since his introduction in Metal Masters.

Virgo would becomes Scythe Virgo since, you know, Saturn is the Roman name of Kronos and Kronos usually has a scythe. (Totally not me being lazy with the bey designs, definitely not.)

Moving on to the Destroyer Dome arc. Since there's no King, the legend of Variares would be just used to explain Destroyer's origins since it was modeled after Variares. Also, in this version, Julian would also be participating in the Destoryer Dome as he would be among the people who aided financially for the stadium's construction. And instead of first going to Italy or wherever else they went, and they go straight to America.

(Sadly for Gingka, they still don't get to participate).

So we get to re-meet Team Dungeon, Tsubasa and Yuu — who is sulking because he didn't get a last minute free pass from the WBBA since he's not their employee and using him to find a legendary blader would technically be child exploitation and why would they bother with that when Tsubasa is right there with his already great past record as their special agent? — the Eonis guy still exists, King does not (I feel the worst for this one) and Team Lovushka and Team Garcia are there too.

The first round goes pretty much the same, except Julian is there to contrast how the Garcias didn't change from the second season, although it is acknowledged that their poverty is an actual issue and they're not being evil for the sake of being evil. They're trying to survive; it's just that they're trying to screw everyone else over in the process. Maybe Julian even decides to take a chance on them and gives Argo a job — the only Garcia he can legally hire since the rest are below 18 imo. I chose Julian for this since they worked together in the past so Julian should know why they do what they do and after he almost lost all his wealth, he should be able to at least sympathise with them. Anyway, the Garcias need a better conclusion than canon.

Onto rounds two. Since King doesn't exist and Jigsaw is not interested in fighting at all, Masamune and Lera throw hands instead since they missed their chance to battle in the World Championships in Metal Masters (also so that the tiny rivalry they were beginning to form actually goes somewhere, even if it isn't in this season). Julian realizes that they're not just competing but also trying to find the Star Fragment, so he remains neutral for a whole, further spurring on Lera and Masamune's fight since they just want something done already. That is, until they decide that Jigsaw is being way too smug and decide to team up to take him down a peg. Similar to canon, Jigsaw obliterates everyone except Julian and Masamune.

The final round is where it gets interesting. Jigsaw eliminates Zeo and Toby, and goes into hiding. This annoys Julian since he believes that a battle needs to be fought valiantly with one's full strength, regardless of who your opponent is. We get a few flashbacks to Julian's battle with Da Shan in Metal Masters to show that this is where those feelings originate from. These strong feelings awaken his Star Fragment and Julian pretty much destroys Jigsaw easily.

Sicne Variares is modeled after the mythology Ares, with, you know, attack and defense modes symbolizing a sword and shield, Destroyer's new design would be similar to Variares. The Fusion Wheel would have a different name though, idk, maybe something like Paladin Destroyer or Knight Destroyer to fit with Julian's emperor theme.

Then, Tsubasa, Masamune and Julian have a battle royale. Masamune gets defeated, the stadium breaks and we get the hamster wheel scene with Tsubasa ans Julian instead. Instead of an exposition about Julian's past, we get a flashback to their first meeting aka the Dark Power shenanigans, and they talk about how far they've come since then and that they finally got to battle all out in a tournament after all, bringing closure to that arc as well.

The reason I chose Julian this time is because the planet Mars is associated with strength, passion, valor, energy, etc which are qualities Julian shows as well even if they aren't always apparent. His arc, much like Chao Xin, is more about reinforcing his previous growth than changing anything about him now.

Planet Jupiter is associated with protection (I'm saying this based on Google, correct me if I'm wrong). In Roman Mythology, Jupiter was considered a protective deity as well. We see this with Dynamis being the guardian of his temple and I think it parallels Hyoma being the guardian of Koma Village. In my version, Koma Village would play an important role in the protagonists learning what the hell is even going on since that's considered to be the origin of beyblade itself. Not to mention, it would help flesh out the location a bit more, since we only saw the areas surround the village in Metal Fusion but not the actual village itself.

I picture it starting with Mist Mountain, even though there is no Dynamis. Similar to canon, there would be various traps in the mountain to prevent intruders from reaching the temple at the top and it would essentially be a race between the protagonists and the antagonists to reach the top. Once they do get to the top, they find ancient scripts in a language so archaic that it's almost impossible to decipher. Johannes's group steal the tablet and get away with it, but Madoka manages to snap a picture of it before. Gingka finds the script a bit familiar and makes the connection to Koma Village, so the gang heads there while giving Hyoma and Hokuto a heads up to start looking for clues.

Once they gets there, we get a brief reintroduction to Hyoma since it's been ages, and then the characters would start searching for clues in Koma Village's library. We would also see the village more populated since the people decided that it's safe to return now that Ryuuga and Doji have been defeated and a whole year has passed without any similar incidence.

Meanwhile, Doji — without showing his face on-screen — would make the connection to Koma Village sicne he invaded that place twice and probably did extensive research beforehand. So Johannes, Pluto and Cygnus would make their way to the village as well and start attacking the place, demanding that they give him the information or he would destroy the place. The gang tries to stop him while Hokuto continues to search for information, but they aren't powerful enoguh to defeat Pluto just yet.

Eventually, seeing the place he's worked so hard to protect being threatened and attacked like this again makes Hyoma snap and his desire to protect everyone makes the Star Fragment awaken and he manages to defeat Pluto with his newly evolved Aries.

I decided to just give Aries Jupiter's Fusion Wheel since the four metal balls in the Jade Fusion Wheel are supposed to represent the rings of planet Jupiter, which have four components. So Rock Aries turns into Jade Aries.

After this, Hyoma decides that they need more information on how the legend went down to see if they can learn anything else, but Hokuto tells Hyoma to leave that to him and to train with his new bey instead sicne he believes that the enemy will only get stronger and stronger from here on out.

(Alos, since there's no magical vision of their ancestors, they have no clue what the planetary legendary bladers are supposed to look like.)

For the next one, the candidate I have in mind is a bit out of the way, but hear me out. Mercury is associated with communication, rationality, adaptability, variability and thinking. It's no wonder that Yuki is the legendary blader of Mercury in canon, even without considering that Mercury in Roman mythology is the messenger of the gods and guess what is Yuki's main role in Metal Fury?

Anyway, the person I chose to replace Yuki with is Sora. I imagine that he would appear in Beyster Island as a competitor. He would eventually get to fight Kenta in the tournament and we would see flashbacks of Kenta teaching Sora way back in Meral Fusion. Sora would defeat Kenta, showing how far he has come since then.

While preparing to leave, Kenta would run into Gingka and they would have a conversation about why Kenta left, similar to canon. I feel bad about removing the Gingka vs Kenta fight sicne it was such a good battle, but I think they're close enough friends that they can come to an understanding even without that. Besides, it's been a long time since we've seen Sora so this fight would serve to not only show his growth but also to reintroduce him as a character.

Then, Sora would fight Gingka. Finally, after all this time, he would get to fight his role model. Sora would way more analytical and adaptable now, having built up on the foundation Kenta gave him in Metal Fusion. So, while it wouldn't be as apparent as Yuki, he would still fit the values mentioned above.

I think Gingka would win this fight since showing up out of nowhere and defeating Kenta and Gingka would be a bit much. Not to mention, it would show Sora that no matter how far he has come, he still has something higher to strive towards. However, he would awaken his Star Fragment during this fight.

Since Anubis's Fusion Wheel is modeled after Vulcan, which was a planet proposed to exist in Mercury and the Sun but was later disproved, I would make Sora's Pegasus evolve into Mercury Pegasus. I would get rid of the stripes in the design since they remind me of Anubis, and I would make the shape less like a feather give it a bit more rounder and flowy design as a nod to the element mercury which is the only metal that is liquid at room temperature.

Lastly, for Venus, I would choose Yuu. Venus is often associated with love (platonic or romantic) , relationships, harmony, beauty and the urge to sympathize with and unite with others. In canon, the themes of friendships and relationships were explored with Tithi well enough, but I feel like they could just as easily be explored with Yuu. Not only is he someone who sees something wonderful in almost anything but he is also able to easily sympathize with and befriend others, even managing to befriend Doji to a certain extent.

I have no clue how he would awaken his Star Fragment though. I think that Doji would take a more proactive role this time around, mostly because it's Yuu and he wants to mess with his head almost as much as he wants to mess with Ryuuga. Doji would probably be searching for the last fragment too, since they have literally only one and that is the one Nemesis got, so finding that last fragment is doubly important. He would run into Yuu and Tsubasa by chance and decide to mess with Yuu a bit because Fiji's thw actual worst. Tsubasa tries to fight him off while Yuu recovers from the whiplash of seeing him alive, but Doji's gotten much stronger since then and Tsubasa is struggling. I think Doji mocking what little understanding they used to have back in Metal Fusion would be enough to snap the Star Fragment into action. Flame Libra becomes Death Libra, because I think the complicated bey design suits Yuu since we all know how tactical he can be when he wants. (Seriously, just look at the wiki page. That Fusion Wheel is way more complex than I thought.)

Doji would eventually retreat once Yuu becaomes the legendary blader of Venus, because he knows that he has ruined aby chances he might have had of recruiting Yuu to their side, not that Yuu is stupid enough to fall for that a second time nor would he just abandon his friends for a guy like Doji.

I imagine that, since none of the legendary bladers side with the Nemesis cult this time, they would have some time to actually plan things since the cult wouldn't have the other Star Fragments to accelerate Nemesis's revival. They would, however, make the legendary balders fight the fodder enemies to gather energy for Nemesis once the protagonists do decide to attack their fortress. There would only be one battle since they would have had the time to actually plan stuff instead of speed running the preparation phase of the invasion. Ryuuga dies, Kenta gets the Star Fragment and they all play a role in the final battle instead of it being just Gingka eith the power of the whole world on his side.

Damn, this turned out longer than I thought it would. Sorry for basically writing out a fanfiction, but I figured that I should go forward with how things would change if I did change the main characters. Sorry!

[naidile]

Nine people¹ you want to get to know better tag game

¹ - Vinny I don't think I even know nine people but I'm here for the tag! Let's go!!

Tagged by @payphoneangel

Last Song - Juanes's cover of Pump It Up by Elvis Costello

Went looking for this song after Olivia Rodrigo's Brutal (which I love) was accused of plaigarism for having a guitar riff that was similar to one in this song. I found it really cool that instead of suing her for royalties, Elvis just shrugged and went no that's actually how music works, it's fine by me.

Favourite colour - Blue!

Last movie/ TV show - Tatort Saarbrücken 🙃🙃🙃

Other than that, CBS Mom is like crack for my heart and brain and has gotten me through the past couple of weeks. I watched S1 a few years ago, maybe when I was in college and never got to S2 but then earlier this month, I read that William Fichtner co-starred on the show and I was like 👀 alrightyyy because the last time I saw him on screen was in Prison Break and he acted the fuck out of his role there.

So yeah, jumped back into Season 3 of Mom because that's where his character comes in and then remembered how good the damn show was. Came for the Fitch, stayed for the funny women.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury - All three! I usually snack on savoury foods though.

Relationship status - Single af 😚

Last thing I googled - Stack overflow + the entire error code. (It worked!)

Current Obsessions - the song Suck It And See, chicken tenders, french toast, this TV/Radio/Cassette player

It's a Nippon TV - 939

I absolutely don't need it though I might look into getting a CRT television from the ebay pay nothing section later this year though :)

Last book - A Poison Like No Other Matt Simon

Basically if a journal paper was so well-written that it could be simplified and published for the public while retaining all it's key information, this would be the book. It's depressing realness (about microplastic contamination) but incredibly well structured and not as dreary as it sounds. I recommend it!

Looking forward to - Moving out of my fucking apartment so I never have to deal with my creepy, screaming landlord again.

I'll be out of my lease by May! I'll also be seeing Mitski in May. Marvelous month tbh.

TY FOR THE TAG!!

Tagging @fangurl @notrenu @bisexual-joseph-joestar & @allyouneed-isfaith-andtrust <3

[glitch-pep]

Under the cut is a post talking about the designs I made for this Halloween post right here.

Alright I'll explain the thought process behind these, in order in which I designed them in.

1.) Charlie

For Charlie I was torn between two ideas, cowboy or pirate. Due to my bias for cowboys I was leaning more towards that but eventually a certain someone, you know who you are, I ain't gonna tag you >:D reconvinced me to go for the pirate idea due to the thief part and then I realized that an eye patch would cover her right eye so I was sold. Designing her costume was pretty easy to be honest, I just kept adding stuff to make her look cool. Also, I had to make a Hawkshaw reference, I couldn't possibly resist once I thought of it. I'll probably draw her as a cowboy eventually though. Also, I let her have sharp teeth in the final drawing, as a treat.

2.) Cursed Treasure

Due to the lyrics I came up with I needed to give Charlie some sorta cursed treasure, so I thought a cursed golden Barnaboo statue would look cute and do the trick. The eyes and bow are meant to be gemstones and I made the face looks off so that the cursed part is a bit obvious.

3.) Milo

I actually sketched Charlie's and Milo's designs and finished them in the same day. Milo's was a quick one, I knew immediately that he had to be a vampire cuz he would definitely be something that's somewhat elegant. The hair looked a bit weird to me so I put the sunglasses there to cover it up a bit, and honestly he's pulling it all off better than what I expected. Also his teeth are perfectly goofy enough as to where I can't take him 100% seriously, which is how it should be.

4.) Parasol

The parasol was an afterthought after I had already finished Milo's design. It's inspired by the parasols that Draculaura and Poppy Pointer have. Although I screwed it up by making the handle black instead of white in the final drawing, I was going to fix it but when I started doing that I realized that there's already a lot of white in his design so I kept the black handle.

5.) Mina

For Mina I had to go for the obvious option, a witch, mostly due to lore reasons. It's canon that Mina insists on being a witch every year for Halloween because she told the culdesac kids that "Witches show their true form on Halloween." and she has to keep up that story, although her mom doesn't want her to have the same outfit each year, so she makes a different witch outfit each time. It's a pretty regular outfit with a witch hat slapped on top, but for Mina it perfectly does the trick.

6.) Molly and Mr. T. Bear

It was all fun and games until I started to design Molly's costume. The first idea I had for Molly was for her to be the Tooth fairy. Perfect idea, right? It's somewhat sleep related, Mr. T. Bear can be a tooth and it'll look cute. That's what I told myself. After 3 days of furiously looking through the web trying to find some sorta inspiration or color pallete I actually like, I gave up on the idea. I hated all of the concepts I made to the point where I got tired of the idea. Thing is... I didn't know what other costume to give her. The only ideas I could come up with were: a bed bug, sleeping beauty and Molly and Mr. T. Bear as each other. I didn't like any of those enough, so, in a moment of desperation I asked my friend for help. She told me that she noticed a pattern between the costumes I picked, that all of them were some sorta villans. Vampire, pirate, witch... she was right... I didn't do that on purpose. If she hadn't told me I would've never noticed it... Anyways, she basically suggested that Molly could maybe be a wolf. I was like oh she could be a werewolf because of the full moon and she's a moon you get the gist. And then, later on, when I was looking through the web I came across a drawing of the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood dressed as the grandma. That's when it clicked in my head. Molly as the wolf and Mr. T. Bear as Little Red Riding Hood. I was sold and I ended up liking the designs and finishing them on first try. The friend mentioned here wanted to get credited this way, since she doesn't have any socials.

And that's about it! As much as I dreaded the process because it took me ages, I do think the effort paid off. I'll definitely draw these again! :>

[hazy-hazel-fics]

My fanfic writing process!!! yippee!!!

Step 1: getting my idea. First off, I need the very basic idea of what I want to write. Sometimes it's just a vibe. What fandom am I writing for? What characters are involved? Is it a crackfic or angsty as hell? Is romance involved? Are they in a different setting than canon?

Step 2: planning. I don't like this one a whole lot, mostly because I never know if I'm doing it right. However, the way I do it is I basically come up with a few basic plot points and decide the order that they should happen in. I also try to keep it appropriate to the setting and especially the characters. Sometimes I kinda skip this part, which in hindsight, never turns out good. The part I like most about this is that it's usually where I design my characters! I like drawing, so getting to sketch out how my characters look so that I can describe them or draw them better is nice.

(there's 4 more steps and explanations below the cut! it's just there so that it's shorter if anyone's scrolling)

Step 3: writing. I try to split my base writing into chunks. First, I start everything on paper! I write down a chapter 1, and try to extend it to part of the second chapter as my first section. I then make my next section finishing the second chapter and starting the third, and so on. As my first draft, it usually has a lot of placeholders where I just say [thing that he grabs the hairbrush out of] or something along those lines, and I don't care too much about my writing seeming bland.

Step 4: editing. As I just mentioned, I tend to section things out, albeit loosely. This part is where I grab a red pen and start to fill in the placeholders and fix any grammatical errors. I also tend to replace words and sentences and make them better, at least in my eyes. I do this by section about twice, meaning that I finish writing my first section, and then later on I do the first corrections, and then the next day or after a nap I do the second corrections. Once I'm done, I start writing the next section, and then I edit that, and the cycle repeats!

Step 5: importing. The next step is to import it somewhere that I can check my word count, edit it, and format it right. I usually use Google Docs because it's easiest. First, to avoid that weird double spacing with AO3 when copy pasting, I make it so that it's single and has a space after each paragraph, which shows me how it'd look in AO3 (image below).

I import it from paper by just manually typing everything out besides the fact that things were corrected. The next day or just a few hours later, I go into suggesting mode (another image below) which basically means that any edits I make will not be permanent, and I can come back later and decide whether or not I want to use the edits. I do this and re-read until I think that my story is silly enough.

Final/6th step: PUBLISHING!!!! Yep, this is the last step, and probably the most nerve-wracking for me. I open up AO3, make a new work, and then I have to decide the tags (probably the hardest part for me; feels like there's too many to chose from or there isn't something as oddly specific as I need it to be), decide the ratings, write notes for the first chapter... and write a summary. I don't like writing summaries, but I try to keep it short and sweet, and I try not to spoil too much. Maybe 1-3 sentences, and then an author's note that's usually the same length or shorter. I re-read everything I've written, make minor changes, add or remove tags that don't seem necessary, usually mention that tags will be removed and added as necessary... Then, my cursor hovers over the button to publish it... and I haven't gotten past that yet! At some point, though, I'll actually publish a fic rather than letting it sit in google docs and in the drafts until deletion.

So sorry for the very long tutorial! I hope you have a nice day :)