#Butt Quality basically meaning ''not to my personal liking''

[livelaughlovesubs]

guess who's back, back again, it's 🃏 anon back at it again!

so. Sampo Koski (i'm fully inclined to say his full ass name because why not, it's hilarious) recently i had a big craving for his bratty little ass, so i was thinking, maybe reader (gn or otherwise) getting way too tired of his quips and just... fucking him roughly, rough sex, bondage (or any form of BDSM), some (or a lot of) manhandling and a teensy bit of a blood (either from clawing or biting can work!) can work really well!

but honestly, go wild i don’t really mind whatsoever, i’m swamped with work right now and i just need to satisfy my needs from them lolol.

so, again, have fun with this request!

from, le 🃏 anon!

Hello hello~! Great to see you again. After two whole months, I hope you aren’t that swamped with work anymore? Haha

Dom!reader x sub!sampo - reader is gn

Warning: bondage, pegging (I use dick), rough sex, slapping, manhandling, chocking, scratching, mention of death, hair pulling, edging

It was a mistake to trust him.

Seriously, this man is wanted by the guards and owns the infamous image of a liar, how could you believe in his words? Maybe they were just too sweet, too tempting and irresistible. Even so, it doesn’t justify how stupid you were to trust him. That sweet yet two faced smile, it made you blind. I mean- how dared he scam you with low quality ropes?!

All you wanted was to buy some nice, pretty ropes, and he even gave you a discount. Then he talked big about how well he threats his customers, and that he’d personally bring it to your house. Though the moment you glanced at the item, seeing the rough texture and poor handicraft, your jaw dropped. No wonder the price was so damn cheap, this guy tried to rip you off! Who did he take you for? This won’t do, you wasn’t someone easy who’d let it slide after him apologising. You’ve been so excited to receive it after all, that’s why you had to teach him a lesson.

You grabbed him by his arm and dragged him inside, throwing him onto the ground. The rope slipped from his hands, landing next to him. A cold look in your eyes and you kicked his sides, telling him to get onto the bed. He eventually obliged, then you began stripping his clothes. Sampo let you do it with a sheepish smile and dropping eyes, chuckling satisfied. That lewd little fox just loved it when you are rough with him, when you push him around and put him in his place. Now his face was being pushed into a fluffy pillow while his ass was high in the air, kneeling basically. Wrists near his ankle as you brought the red rope closer to him, straightening it out then whispering, “hold still.”

With a swift move, you tightened the knot around his wrist, pulling with all your strength. He groaned a little and bawled his hands into fists, fully aware that there will be bruises on the next day. “Most esteemed customer~ why… are you testing your product on me?” His voice got higher towards the end, a sense of excitement hidden under the surface. “Hah, come on, we are more than just merchant and buyer.” You reminded him while giving his bare butt a harsh slap, leaving behind a red mark. “Nghh~! Ahaha! Oh y/n, you are as fascinating as ever.”

That’s right, you two have shared some intimacy before and despite the relationship you both had he still tried to scam you. “Save your flattery for later. Now, tell me, does this feel like quality ropes?” You asked him with a scorn, in the meantime opening the lit of a bottle. The tall male had a rather sarcastic expression, acting like he didn’t know. Though the answer was as clear as day. He could feel it rub against his flesh, irritating and burning his skin. It had an itchy feeling to it, yet it also hurt, causing the area around it to turn red.

A faint blush covered the cheeks of the boy. His breathing was heavy and ragged, sweat forming on his forehead. Then you grabbed his roots and yanked on his hair, making him arch his back into a crescent shape, mumbling, “answer me.” The rather rough treatment was immediately met with a loud moan, “uhhH-nNNGhhh~! Ah, be gentle, y/n..” finally he looked at you, mouth parted and tongue hanging out a little. His face also reddened by a few shades, the corners of his lips were curled into a grin.

“I take it you know what this means for you?” You sighed and asked him, squeezing a large amount of lube onto your inner palm. He acted like he didn’t know, staying quiet and making a -hmm?- sound. So you continued with, “your punishment, for deceiving me.” Then you stuck two fingers inside his hole, fingering him sloppily. “Punish.. ment? Ah-ngHhhh..! To-too rough~♡” Sampo threw his head back, his blue-white hair bouncing around. “Yes, punishment for bad boys.”

Seeing how he shuddered and shook, you deemed him prepared enough and pulled your fingers out. Afterwards you lined the tip of your length to his hole, followed by you dropping the bottle onto the ground and grabbing his waist with both hands. Holding him, making him stick his ass out some more. “Mhmm~ ha, haah… don’t hold back now, dear customer.” His breathing became even more ragged, he was obviously enjoying this. “What a fucking whore.” You chuckled, giving his bottom another squeeze, spreading his hole with two fingers before penetrating him.

You slowly pushed the tip in, noticing how his shoulders jerked upwards, the oh so familiar grin returned to his wet lips. Since he was taking this so well, you might as well speeding up the process. With one snap of your hip, you pushed the rest of it inside him, your pelvis hitting his ass. “NgGGHhh~!! Ah- f-fuck, so good, more, ha- mHm, do me harder ♡♥︎!” Sampo cried out, hands wrapped around his own ankle, grip tightening with all his might. He wanted to trash around so bad, though the restrains weren’t bulging in the slightest. Keeping him in check, unmoving and restricted.

Without wasting much time, you began moving, thrusting your dick in and out of him at a fast pace. “AhHh!” He moaned at the sensation, at you rubbing against his walls and hitting places so deep inside him that it made him see stars. Then you leaned closer to him, grabbing his hair again as you whispered into his ear, “You said harder? Let’s see if you can take it then.” After that you licked his earlobe, running your tongue all over the shell while moving your hips ruthlessly. “NGhhh! Y/nnn~! Ah, t-touch me more!” He whimpered, wanting you to show some attention to his leaking member, but you ignored him.

Instead, you opened your mouth and bit his shoulder, trying to raise the speed even more. The hand on his hip gripped him harsh enough to leave bruises, the other one accidentally ripped off some strains of hair from his scalp. You bit down even more when his voice hitched, enough to draw out some fresh drops of blood. At this point he was a withering mess, crying with such a dumb yet blissful expression on his face, his blush spread to his shoulders as well. “OoOhhhH, AHHnnHgg fuuuck!! There, r-right there, so good, fuck me more, more!!” A series of unintelligible words left him, echoing through the lust-ridden room.

The pain he felt from your rough treatment, from the newly gotten bruises and wounds all faded away the moment you found his sweet spot. Not only that, you’ve been abusing that poor area with such brutality he felt like he was gonna die. Each time the tip pressed and hammered against that spot, his head would empty themselves and more tears would fell from his eyes. Drool was hanging out of his mouth as you relentlessly pounded into him, panting and doing your best to keep the tempo up.

“Hah… this is hardly a punishment for you, isn’t it?” You scoffed under your breath, feeling a little bothered by it. That’s why you slapped and scratched his butt again, cursing out, “look at what a fucking pervert you are, Sampo koski.” After drawing some blood with your nails, you insulted him, smirking sadistic. His face was quite a sight to behold, so chaotic and blushy, so damn adorable. “UhHHmm!~♡♥︎ GuUughhh!!” All he did was whimpering and moaning like some dog in heat, struggling against his restrains while his cock leaked his filthy pre onto the bed. With all the remaining strength he had, he meekly trust his hips back against you, trying to get you to go even further.

Then you stopped, very abruptly. “Ah-ahhh..?” A confused squeak escaped him. Hands still holding his hips while he sobbed into the pillow, but you didn’t move at all. “Shall I just leave you like this? Considering you aren’t seeing this as a punishment.” You asked yourself, though talked loud enough for him to hear, you wanted him to know. “uhhh- huuu~?? N-no! Don’t stop y-yet!” His voice was rough and hoarse from his screaming his lungs out. That man really has no shame considering how loud his volume was the entire time.

He turned his head back, trying to look at you. And when he did, a shiver ran down his spine, almost enough to push him over the edge. You were smiling with your eyes, a dangerous look, one that told him to run away r he’d regret it. But, to him, he was already too deep in this mess to escape. This was going to be a long night for him, and he knew since the beginning. “You wanna cum, Sampo?” You began, leaning down to his level again. By doing so you pushed your dick a little deeper in and he whined at the friction. The male didn’t respond with words, he only nodded his head hesitantly, meekly. A sense of fear and pleasure bubbling inside him. How he loved to feel like nothing next to you.

Next thing he knew you clasped one hand over his eyes and wrapped the other one around his throat, squeezing him, about it choke him. “Be a good boy and endure it. If I’m satisfied, I’ll let you cum.”

His heart pounded against his chest, he felt lightheaded. All the ecstasy and anticipation was making him dizzy with lust. He didn’t even have to think twice before groaning with a low voice, “yes, please, toy with me. Kill me with your love♡”

[appleblueberry-pie]

When Gojo asks why we won’t just be with him we tell him that he isn’t worth it 😔🫰

He isn’t worth the body or the history… I know a lot of people like to brag about having exes and body’s but that shit is so embarrassing to me 😭 like I feel like a whore because a boy kissed me in like middle school and he was a BOY. Boys are so gross omg-anyway-

Like why would I date you if we’re gonna break up? Get out of my face bro 😔

"....Is that what you became friends with me for? I'm not interested in dating you, Gojo."

Gojo never knew you were the type to reject people like him. He was everything you wanted in a man and he knew it. Money, extroverted, very fine, strong, tall, sexy, intelligent, all of the above. So....why did you say no to his confession? I repeat, HE CONFESSED and you rejected HIM. He couldn't help but accidentally voice his thoughts.

He leans back in surprised and scrunches his eyebrows at your response. "What?" You raise your eyebrows at his answer and continued eating the food he bought you at this expensive cafe that you now loved. ".....What? Never been rejected before?" You laughed at his response and kept eating. He wasn't gonna pressure you into dog shit, he could kiss ass. You did like his qualities. But with how the dating pool is currently, you wouldn't be surprised if he had three bitches lighting his phone up currently. You had zero hope in all men unless they don't use their phones at all and instead told you the worst jokes on planet in hopes of swooning you.

You would rather not date him. He was nice eye candy though. He gains his composure back and leans on the table. "Yeah, I have been, but I felt like we were both interested in each other, you know...?" You nod, understanding what he meant. "Yeah....sorry if it seemed like I was leading you on." He shakes his head, still incredibly butt hurt inside. "No, it's not your fault."

Why did you say no? He wants to ask desperately. Too many questions filled his mind at the possibilities. Were you lesbian and he was too stupid to realize? Was he not your type at all whatsoever? Was he too stuck up like Suguru said? He doesn't know. "Is it okay if I ask what made you say no?"

You shrug and look up in thought. "Well, it's not you, it's just....too much is happening right now. And I mean with everyone. Too many people are love-bombing each other, there's no genuine connection ever, then there's 'situationships', and a looot of people my age don't have patience for long-term relationships and it's just....i feel like- ugh i guess I'll say it. But I feel like you're the perfect person to have all of those qualities. You're very attractive, Satoru, so....I don't know if I'm ready to trust you enough not to put those labels on your head. It's dumb, but yeah. And I do too much with relationships. I put too much time and energy into the person I'm with, and i hate doing that knowing that there are so many people who've just neglected my needs in return. Basically, I love trauma."

Satoru watched you the entire time you spoke, so you found it hard to continue speaking, but you managed to push through. "Fuck them." You roll your eyes and he takes one of your fries, eating them. "I'm serious. I can give you everything you want and need y/n. I wouldn't ask you out if I didn't have a major attraction and connection to you."

You didn't look impressed, but he was determined. "I agree with you. All of the girls I tried to date just wanted me for sex. I know you would treat me better than that. And I would be willing to give you the love and respect you deserve. I get....I don't want to say this, but I get really happy at the thought of being able to provide for you. All I want is you. And it's okay if you don't want me now."

He takes a piece of your cake and eats it without your permission. "I'm willing to wait."

I'm sorry I took forever with this omg. This is the start of many. I might do like 6 more tomorrow. I need sleep.

[starqueensthings]

A very Crosshair Character Analysis

I posted a poll the other day looking for some opinions, and the prompt was: does Crosshair ever truly miss a shot? Meaning, of all the shots we’ve seen him aim and fire, how many of the few that didn’t land, were intended not to land? Does Crosshair have the skill and ability to land every shot he takes, and what of the ones that go astray (because there are some!)? The overarching, collective opinion (77% of votes) is that the sniper only misses a shot when he intends to, but let me explain why I was asking— the "methods behind my madness," if you will… (Fasten your seatbelts, and keep all extremities— and pitchforks— inside the ride!)

If Crosshair “doesn’t miss”, then there are some things that demand consideration and possible explanation. Please accept this weird internet essay as a deep dive into Crosshair’s character based solely on how I perceived his actions throught season one and two, and opinions I formed while watching his character develop. And while this could not be a Tech-approved analysis without touching on both his perceived good qualities and “flaws”, please know this is not a hate-on-Crosshair post.

Before I get into specifics, I think it’s imperative that we establish a basic understanding of his personality before the chip’s activation. While there is, sadly, not much “footage” we can use to form a true characterization of him, there are some instances we can touch on. The Skako/Anaxes arc from TCW and the earliest few moments of “Aftermath”, Crosshair is shown to be quite sarcastic, uninterested in trivial conversation, measurably combative toward those with differing opinions to his (seemingly all regs, including but not limited to Kix and Jesse), moderately argumentative toward leadership outside of his own Sergeant (mainly Rex, as Crosshair seems to have no qualms following Anakin’s or Cody’s orders), comforting to those who need it (Echo), and an overall good tactical team player.

So, let’s start this analysis by dialling things way back to their mission on Kaller and the complications that arose once Order-66 had been dropped. More specifically, hunting Caleb down in the forest. One of the things I noticed upon first watching that scene and every re-watch since, is how often Crosshair toggles back and forth between blaster bolt and stun cartridge on his rifle, as if constantly battling the indecision of exactly how he wanted to detain the Jedi. Now, if you remember, Tech com’s in and basically says [paraphrased obviously]: “Shit is starting to his the fan, we better get our butts outta here,” to which Hunter responds: “Can’t. Haven’t found the kid yet.” Crosshair then chimes in with, what I have long-deemed to be his catch phrase: “Wrong,” and proceeds to shoot the branch that Caleb is perched on. Not Caleb, who, in Crosshair's mind, should be the rightful recipient of a kill shot… the branch. Hmmmm.

If every one of Crosshair’s shots is so masterfully aimed that its deemed an automatic hit, and thus every miss is intentional (a notion of which I also believe, less one particular shot which I’ll touch on a little later), then there would’ve had to have been a portion of Crosshair’s cognition overriding that Order-66 command to eradicate all Jedi, even if it was only enough to fleetingly switch his gun to stun.

Not long afterward, we see his beloved Firepuncher saber-whacked from his hands, and Crosshair opts to then continue his attack with his backup DC17. Missed shot, missed shot, missed shot, missed shot. Were these blown shots intentional as well? And if so, why does he continue to assail the Padawan? Is Crosshair only able to fight off the command to kill Caleb while his finger is on the trigger, possibly knowing that’s when the fight against his own mind becomes most crucial? Is he clinging to some autonomy in the moments where he’s not posing an imminent threat to those around him, like during the flight back to Kamino? Or can he only resist the chip’s influence when the urge to do something terrible is paramount?

Let’s skip ahead, shall we, to when the Batch is attempting to flee Kamino with Omega. Crosshair sashays onto the landing platform in his new gothboy armour, fresh out of an undescribed chip “augmentation” procedure (whatever that eludes to), and proceeds to have a small stand off with Hunter— both of whom have their weapons directed pointedly away from each other (interesting). During the succeeding fire fight, we see Crosshair line up several well aimed shots, many of which appear to be only inches away from landing on their “intended target”. He eventually succeeds in shooting Wrecker in the shoulder, and I’d like to point out that this shot lands almost exactly where Wrecker was hit by the training droid some hours/days previously. Was the placement of this shot intentional? Did Crosshair pick that particular target area knowing Wrecker would survive the damage?

The shot I find most intriguing is the one near-perfectly aimed at Hunter’s head (lol— brothers). You know, the one where Omega saves the day by unexpectedly blasting Crosshair’s rifle out of his hands. If the chip's activation was the reason he was now hunting them and claiming their treason, why had that moment seen him hesitate? Perhaps he needed a second to line up his shot, you might argue to which I would say argue: we’ve seen him use the active recoil from that same rifle to line up his next shot many times in quick succession with a zero margin of error (see the Skako/Anaxes arc in TCW and the first few minutes of Kaller), including when each shot was aimed at targets both more dynamic in action and further away than Hunter was.

Crosshair then takes several shots at the ramp of the Marauder as they take off, all of which are well aimed… and simultaneously redundant; the passengers are taking cover in the ship already, the Marauder has begun its take off, the ramp is closing, Crosshair running whilst knowing he can’t reach them. I personally attribute those last few shots as tokens of both anger and resentment for being left behind, not ones made with the intention of killing. I think that he expected his brothers to know him better than to believe these actions were of sound mind— he thought they’d be able to deduce that he was fighting a losing battle inside his own head, yet they were quick to believe he would actually entertain such sudden and aggressive hostilities toward them.

At this point, you might be itching to argue that maybe Crosshair's accuracy is largely diminished when he opts for a pistol instead of his rifle, and while I can't dispell this theory, I can provide some statistics. We see Crosshair use a pistol only four times in the entirety of the show so far: 1. against Caleb on Kaller (objective miss), 2. against the Batch Batch as their leaving Kamino (objective miss), 3. against a soldier while he and his new elite soldier squad infiltrate Saw's camp (direct hit), and 4. against Leiutenant Nolan when that asshole he gets on Crosshair's last nerve at the Outpost (direct hit). I will leave it up to you to decide if the theory of whether his skill level changes based on the weapon he's firing holds any merit, or is worth further discussion.

Moving on— the 99-clan is reunited on Bracca. Let’s turn our attention to the shot Crosshair takes at Tech whilst the latter was emerging from the ion engine, and I’m going to include pics this time to support my assertion.

Crosshair has an undeniably clear shot— his line of sight is not impeded, there are no environmental or atmospheric disturbances to disrupt his composure, he was ready and waiting for them to appear. The shot that he fires lands a good distance in front of Tech. Though the unexpectedness of it was enough to startle the genius into nearly falling out of the engine, I believe it was intentionally aimed this way (see below). A warning shot if you will. A “Hello, I outsmarted you and am waiting at your point of attempted escape. Stop trying, and get down here because I don’t want my new imperial cohorts to take aim for me and kill you” shot.

The next arc (Ryloth) quickly demonstrates that any neurological augmentations he’s been subject to (at this point, I believe we've been shown two, but have been led to believe there were several), have had no effect on Crosshair’s infamous sniper skills. First, he fires a perfectly aimed tracking beacon onto the moving target of Gobi’s ship. Then, upon the ship’s return, uses a single shot to disable one of the engines; a shot taken from, what appears to be, several kilometres away and having the immediate desired affect of disabling the ship. Finally, he makes the astoungingly precise shot (and I’m using astoundingly very heavily here) of blasting Senator Taa in the head. This shot, more than the previously mentioned two, are a sign of his impeccable marksmanship. Let me remind you, he was an undisclosed albeit very far distance away, on the opposite ridge of an enshadowed canyon, and is still able to shoot the senator in a place in which HE WOULD SURVIVE the attack. And not just survive, “make a full recovery” as Rampart claims afterward. This is unrivalled accuracy, and while I do not support the assassination attempt in itself, I can not deny how much skill was required to have achieved it.

My next point is something I have always personally found quite compelling, and it occurs in an off-the-cuff, likely forgotten about piece of dialogue.

Brief context: Crosshair has scooped Hunter off of Daro, they’ve landed on Kamino, and the duo (and a third soldier) are on their way to the Command Center to await the rest of the squads arrival. One of Crosshair’s elite troopers waits until he departs the platform before approaching Rampart and saying: “I question the clone’s motives with his old squad. I don’t trust any of them.” I’m intrigued to know where such a potent mistrust began. Is it simply because he’s a clone? A person born and raised unnaturally in comparison to someone with a traditional gestation and upbringing? Or has this soldier previously identified possible cracks in Crosshair’s imperial facade? Has Crosshair failed to hide his distress in quiet moments where he possibly longs for the life he had with his brothers? What is it that triggers this soldier to suspect Crosshair has an ulterior motive in capturing his old squad, and one that they’re apparently worried would not coincide with Rampart’s ideals?

Ramparts reply, in my opinion, gives us a well disguised clue: “If his plan fails, none of them will be a problem any longer.” If his plan fails. Crosshair’s plan. Crosshair has a plan for mobilizing his old family into one place, and what is it? Is he concealing the hidden objective of a reunion with his brothers under the guise of squad assassination? Was it always his plan to eliminate his new elite squad members, hence the perfectly placed mirror pucks we see him utilize in the training room, to make room for his old squad?

Remember, Hunter asks him some time later: “So this was your grand plan? Bring us here and kill us?” Crosshair answers: “If I wanted you dead, you would be.” And this is a statement which I believe to be incontrovertibly true. He has never wanted his family dead, despite having both the resources and skill to ensure they would be if that’s what he desired, but no. He’s angry that he’d inherently felt more loyalty to them than they had shown to him; frustrated that their choices post-Kaller did not align with his expectations of their choices, disheartened that they hadn't initially recognized to his choices to be ones made outside his character, and Crosshair now eagerly rebuffs their every excuse. Reference the spoken: “They don’t leave their own behind… most of the time.” . . . “You tried to kill us, we didn’t have a choice.” . . . “And I did?”

And follows the: “We’re loyal to each other, not some empire.” . . . “You weren’t loyal to me. I was one of you. You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. And it’s why I’m going to give you what you never gave me: a chance…” conversation. (Just stab me in the heart and twist the knife around, Jennifer!!!! Ouch!!! I'm still not over this!)

Was this his plan? To lure his brothers back to their home, and indirectly beg them to join the empire? To offer them the chance to join the ranks of those who have relentlessly hunted them, in the hopes that there might be some semblance of safety in conformity? To reunite the elite squad that they were in the days of the Republic (the original elite squad of which Rampart is trying to replicate with tactically inferior recruited bodies), simply for the safety that joining the empire could potentially promise? Is this the first demonstration of Crosshair using hostility to shield those he cares about from the callous clutches of the empire that he’d become painfully familiar with?

Regardless of the still-unexplained motive, Crosshair’s plan fails. Hunter has either become, or has always been, as protective of his family as Crosshair is stubborn, and he would never willingly subject his brothers (and now sister) to a life of committing abhorrent war crimes in the name of an Emperor who rose, uninhibited, to extreme and unnatural levels of power whilst abolishing the Republic of which they'd previously served. That’s not what their squad was made to do, despite Crosshair trying to convince Hunter perhaps maybe it was.

Unsurprisingly, Crosshair’s pitch falls on deaf ears, even despite killing his elite squad as an offering of trust. Once the training droids have been taken care of and the fray had subsided, Crosshair stands to find Hunter now has a blaster pointed directly at him, as does Wrecker— (Echo and Tech, curiously, keep their weapons pointed away), and the tables have quickly turned. Hunter begins his own plea to his brother, and it leads to a very ambiguous admission. Hunter: “Crosshair, forget the empire. This isn’t you, it’s your inhibitor chip.” Crosshair: “Wrong. I had my chip removed a long time ago.”

What degree of this admission is true? All of it? Parts of it? None of it? Was Crosshair only told that his chip was removed during one of the apparently many augmentations he’d been subject to? Was it removed and replaced with an alternative? Or was it truly extracted, and his questionable actions have been entirely his own? If so, was it the fall of the Republic that spooked him enough to join the ranks of an unknown empire? Did the thought of disobeying orders bother him enough to sacrifice the family dynamic he’s always known, and replace it with a safe sense of conformity? And if this is the case, was missing all of the shots he’d aimed at his brothers, a veiled display of love?

Atop the water hours later, Tipoca City has fallen. Due to their imminent death, Crosshair and his squad have been forced to work together to survive. Tech makes a lingering comment about Crosshair’s unyielding personality being outside of his control, and it’s still ringing in our ears at this point because it implies that a lot of this misunderstanding may just be because of how strongly Crosshair forms opinions, and how only one of his brothers understands that about him. Omega is mid-drowning trying to save her droid friend, Hunter is .4 seconds away from leaping into Kamino’s frigid and turbulent waters to try and retrieve her… and we see Crosshair grab his rifle. This is a shot, of any, that I would expect him to miss— water both impedes and shifts the trajectory of a projectile and mathmatically accommodating for this would take some serious, well thought out calculation; the only usable light for aiming is from the burning remnants of their home, and the container in which Crosshair is perched heaves and tips with every wave.

But he doesn’t miss. He, again, demonstrates that he can make any and every shot he wants to. He lands his shot on AZI’s chest (not dissimilar to where he shot Wrecker, on an obviously smaller scale), and pulls Omega from the depths of the water. Upon turning to see his brothers poised and ready to shoot him if they deemed the need appropriate, I think Crosshair realizes how monumental the fracturing of their squad was. They have no trust left for him. His actions, powered by an inhibitor chip or not, quickly led them to believe he was not the person they knew him to be. As much as he desperately wanted to them understand how powerful the control of the chip was, they didn’t. And I think this moment robs Crosshair of some of his anger and resentment he harboured toward them, and reaffirms that his only option now is to follow the path he was first influenced to follow, regardless of if it’s what he wants now or not. He then chooses abandonment. He chooses to be left stranded on that platform, likely aware that the potential he’d perish there was high. His separation was now his choice.

Let’s move on to Season Two! Episode 3, appropriately named “the Solitary Clone”, indirectly shows us more about Crosshair than I believe any previous episode ever has. Crosshair’s marksmanship is, once again, on full display as he takes down an old separatist tank with one shot (I’m still reeling over it, ok? That shit made me horny). And I can’t move on from this episode without also mentioning how it ended— we know Crosshair has respect for Commander Cody, that was demonstrated by his willingness to follow Cody’s command while he rebuked others’ in the Skako/Anaxes arc. I think it’s also apparent by the return of his notorious sarcasm, that Crosshair is happy to see a familiar face, one of which he may have previously deemed a friend. Cody, in return, places tidbit of trust in Crosshair (I’m also going to link this post in case anyone is curious about my thoughts on Cody’s initial comments). Not only does the commander inch toward the precarious conversation about “going rogue” and the Order-66 debacle, but Cody lets Crosshair take the lead after their shuttle crashes on Desix. “Trust me,” Crosshair begs, and Cody accedes.

They gain access to the strong hold; Crosshair, Cody and Nova (RIP) struggle only mildly with the droid forces ("Droideka's."). Crosshair demonstrates more inhuman trigonometry abilities and immaculate skill by using those mirror pucks to shoot around corners. Cody saves Crosshair’s tushy when a Commando droid gets a little too close to the sniper. Crosshair lowers his weapon at Cody’s request while they negotiate with Tawny Ames, a motion he had otherwise refused earlier in the episode (the civillians they come across behind a closed door— Cody lowers his gun and reassures them, Crosshair does not.) And when the Empire shows its true colours by demanding that Cody renege on his promise of peace and assassinate the governor, Crosshair does not hesitate to answer the call.

Now superficially, this act would appear as nothing more than a repeat of his crimes on Onderon, or Crosshair simply “following orders” as he had previously developed into a sort of mantra. But I think it’s much more layered than that. I think Crosshair recognized that Cody would be subject punishment did he not comply, a notion reinforced by his extended time at Rampart’s elbow, where it was regularly displayed that clones were of little significane and use to this new military regime. What would happen to Cody as a result of his disobedience? Would he simply be demoted from Commander? Would he be court-martialed and questioned? Detained and imprisoned? Killed? Is this why Crosshair took action into his own hands, and “did what needed to be done”? To protect Cody from the repercussions of disobeying a direct order? Or, more harrowingly and something that I am more inclined to believe, was Crosshair protecting Cody from the poignant shame and self-hatred that he knew the Commander would feel if he DID comply? Was Crosshair unwilling to let the mind of another clone be tainted by the emotionless demands of the empire, so he took the action upon himself? Was his objectively unnecessary and cruel attack, an action of deep seated respect and appreciation? Is this why Cody's comment about living with the consequences of their decisions affects Crosshair so deeply as they separate at the end of the mission?

Let’s dial back to the debated intention of Crosshair’s shots— are his missed shots deliberately missed? Our next stop on this journey is The Outpost (my personal favourite, and not because of the dreamy, sardonic, bearded Commander Mayday), but because of the overt growth that we see Crosshair attain. (Here’s an analysis I posted a while back about some of the messages I think the writers were trying to convey via symbolism throughout Crosshair's episodes to this point). If you've read it and even partially subscribe to my theory, then we can agree Crosshair’s mentality has been shifting little by little since we saw him last, and his attachment to Mayday (and the adjacent benefit that Crosshair rediscovers in companionship and brotherhood) is proof of this. So here’s what happens— raiders make it inside the perimeter of the Outpost thanks to limited man-power and degrading equipment. Crosshair heads directly to where he knows he can play to his strengths: high ground. He’s taking quick and careful aim at the retreating insurgent when the nearby shuttle explodes, and something peculiar happens. Whether it be the blinding flash of the explosion magnified significantly by his riflescope that had caused him such immediate discomfort, or something more (chip alert? Maybe? Or residual effects of having it augmented so many times?), but Crosshair’s subsequent shot is not of his regular quality. He hits his target, so I am not deeming this as a shot missed, but Crosshair has a track record of “one-shots” or “kill shots” of which this is not.

I’m inclined to ramble on for centuries about this episode because there is simply so much development, growth, and symbolism that occurs in those 28 minutes— it’s truly a masterpiece in story telling, but I’ve deviated too far from the intention of this essay (novel) so let’s trek forward.

Let’s get to Tipping Point, and what I would deem to be his only failed shot (and the implications of what it might mean). Crosshair has been sedated, interrogated, injected, neglected, confused, and abused since arriving on Tantiss. (You guessed it, I also have an analysis of this episode, structured a little differently than my previous but still helps to break down what I deem to be the motives behind his actions). Hemlock first attempts to bribe Crosshair with his freedom in exchange for information on his brothers, and as such, divulges his true need for Omega. Crosshair, who has never really had the chance to bond with her like his brothers have, refuses to provide any information. And why? Having only a surface level relationship with Omega, and having rebuffed her advances for companionship several times, why would he protect her in the face of imminent chemical torture? Because it directly protects them, and they are no longer being hunted by a squad of recruited bodies lead by an angry brother... but by a twisted and cruel doctor who's methods were proven unorthodox and tortuous upon immediate introduction.

Upon awakening from another round of interrogation, Crosshair understands the time to act is diminishing quickly, as is his ability to refuse Hemlock the information he wants. Each interrogation leaves him physically and mentally weaker; the time is act is now. He shoots and kills the pair of troopers, as well as the interrogation droid, with no difficulty. He stuns Emerie the scientist (possibly recognizing her clone accent for what it is, thus opting not to kill her?), steals her access card, and stumbles from the room. His body is no where near recovered from whatever toxin that droid injected him with, and he staggers through the unknown halls. Quickly coming across a pair of troopers guarding a doorway, the next shot is the only one that I believe he truly missed, and understandably so. It lands on the wall between their heads, and Crosshair quickly realizing his failure, shoots them with the following two rounds.

While missing that shot is largely inconsequential to the overall story, I think it’s an important anecdote for his character growth. In that moment, Crosshair is both physically weakened and mentally desperate to get a message to his brothers, and it’s the combination of those that had his aim faulty. He’s found himself nothing more than a man broken… stripped of the celebrated titles he’d once possessed and mentally mined until simply raising and aiming a blaster, a motion he’d once found more innate as breathing, was a motion difficult for him. He's forsaken his family, lost his purpose, been rendered nothing but an experiment and a tool.

So to summarize this egregiously long essay of Crosshair’s character, I’d like to reiterate that he is human. As we all do, he has faults. A lot of his reasoning is arguably flawed. He makes poor decisions, often in haste without considering the ripple effect it may have. He is extremely stubborn, and he does not communicate well. And there are things he’s done and decisions he’s made that I can not personally elucidate and would love to openly discuss with other Crosshair enthusiasts (example, trying to incinerate his brothers in an ion engine— did he assume Hunter would double back again, and this is Crosshair’s attempt at forcing them into the open? Or is this one of the moments when he cannot fight off the chips control?). You don’t have to like him. You don’t have to agree with him or anything he says. You don’t have to like me or agree with anything I say, but as we head into the third and final Act of this remarkable story, it is worth determining which of his actions are superficially misunderstood, and which have a deeper meaning that a casual viewer might simply overlook.

Thank you for attending the Ted Talk that no one asked for.

Holly ♥️

**forewent the taglist as this is not my typical content

[leo-muscle]

I’ve heard a little bit about this King Leon guy. Who does he think he is to call himself a king? Seems far to pretentious if you ask me. I wouldn’t be caught dead bowing to someone like that. Not in a million years.

Sure I’m the most basic looking white dude on the planet. My face gets lost in the crowd and my body is light enough to be blown by a breeze. But a king can’t change that, and I would like to see him or any of his subjects try to.

"Are you sure about that?" The bartender told you. You had just arrived on your vacation in Haiti, and the resort's bartender had decided to strike up a conversation with you over drinks. He was enormous, seven feet of pure surfer boy muscle, with a thick gut that was the very picture of strength. He would have been the most beautiful man you had ever seen, if you weren't in the middle of a massive rant.

"Oh, absolutely." You continued. "Whoever these 'kings' are, I don't want anything to do with 'em. Who are they to declare rule over the entire world, and who are we to listen to them?"

It was true, of course. Much of Africa, the British Isles, Central America, and even the islands you were now in had been united under the rule of these Kings. While many praised them for their novel social reforms and exponential increase to quality of life in their domains, many others, yourself included, remained attached to the old ways. Even this vacation was a scouting trip, to see if whatever propaganda these Kings were putting out was true.

"On the contrary, my friend, I am perfectly happy to listen to the rule of my King. You should have seen this island before King Kai came here. Homelessness, poverty... it's all been amended since he arrived."

"Really?" You asked, taking a big swig of your drink, savoring its tingle on your lips. "And NO one's uncomfortable being ruled by just one person?"

"People love King Kai. He is kind and just, like any good king should be. You'll see that soon enough." The bartender said.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, your heart racing.

"Oh, nothing much. Just give it a few seconds."

"What are you-- UGH!" You doubled over, your skin on fire with a sensation entirely alien to you.

The bartender walked out from behind the bar, and soon, his magical hands went to work. With his kingly essence in your system, you could be molded into a respectable citizen of the world.

He started with your pecs, cupping them from behind as they burst through your tropical shirt with new strength. They were enormous, voluptuous pillows, jiggling with muscle and a thin layer of fat.

He then moved his hands along your shoulders, pumping them into cannonballs of strength. The moment his hands reached your arms, they pulled and pushed, leaving your twiggy biceps and forearms as but a fleeting memory, replacing them with pulsing, powerful cannons of strength. In awe, you flexed your right arm, forming a mound easily as big as a baseball if not more.

You moaned softly as King Kai's beautiful hands lightly traced a six-pack onto your stomach, each ab popping into existence, forming an impenetrable wall of strength.

Soon, his hands navigated south, one massive hand palming your flat ass, while the other grabbed your tiny three-inch cock. You moaned, long, low, and hard as both of his hands began to move out from your body, pulling your cock and ass with them. Your cheeks rounded out into a big, bouncy bubble butt, bigger than most women's. It shook with strength and sexuality with every slight movement you made, much like your cock, which had grown so big with the King's touch that no pair of pants could conceal your enormous bulge. His touch was electric on your shaft, causing you to pre almost endlessly.

Your mind was in heaven as he continued to your legs. Your cock was at full mast at its enormous eleven inches as he took his hands to your legs, and blew them up into corded steel pillars as big as any christmas ham. You moaned, your cock firing blanks as he looked you deep into your eyes, placing one hand to completely cover your currently-unchanged face.

"As much as I love my people, we cannot be a global community if all my citizens are homogenous." King Kai said. "Hmm, where should I send you..."

Your skin flickered through thousands of shades in a single moment, before settling on a tone a few shades darker than your original. Your hair darkened to black, and you instantly sprouted a thick dark mustache, and a chinstrap beard to match. Your eyes became narrower and monolid, your stare intensifying into a sexy smolder. As King Kai leaned in and kissed you, your bulk increased, and your muscle became padded with a thin sexy layer of fat.

"Cum." King Kai commanded you, his voice sexy enough to send you over the edge.

You had been reborn, a Vietnamese stud in the Carribean. Your brain was aflame with new neurons, making connections faster and better than ever before. You knew you had been improved, in every conceivable way. You were stronger, smarter, wiser, and you had no one but your new king to thank.

[aoki553]

GRGRGRGRG FINALLY AN OPPORTUNITY TO INFODUMP ABT HIM!!! tysm @makifishcake and prepare for a long ramble abt best boy ever (to me) and why saijun is real... let's start with an introduction to a canon crossover character only The Loser (me) cares about! this is gonna get messy in writing near the end cuz its like 3 am for me rn.

Kouno Jun is one of the two protagonists of Asou-sensei's older work, Our Hero Studies and is one of Haganeno Ken's students at Holy Lance Academy (a private school that either exists the same town as Saiki or some neighboring one)

The only translated OHS chapters so far show us who Jun and Haganeno are as characters. Kouno Jun's a generic tsukkomi high school student with normal teenage boy interests and crushes... he's baby and a total boyfail.

Jun likes video games (Kaisou Monogatari, an in-universe franchise), ramen, melon soda and Yayumi - the class rep. Pretty normal dude that's just being constantly bothered by his classmates and the teacher he hates...

...and then there's Haganeno Ken - THE delusional cosplayer hero wannabe teacher with huge interest in roleplaying and RPG video games, who immediately takes a liking to Jun, mainly for his name (his name means shield, while Haganeno's mean sword. you see where i'm going?)

most of the ohs panels will be machine translated cuz i have no strength or motivation to continue my actual translation work ngnhnh one day maybe... 😔

He may look like a generic high school shonen manga protagonist, but it's actually really charming to me how adorable he can be despite the boring presentation lolol HIS CRUSH ON YAYUMI IS SO CUTE UGHNHNH

And yeah of course he shows up in Saiki bc WHY WOULDNT HE???

Asou-sensei put him there twice. In the Christmas chapter where he's walking with a girl (MOST LIKELY YAYUMI), sees Kusuo sitting alone and being like "haha that's so sad to be lonely on christmas lmao"... EXCEPT ITS HILARIOUS CUZ HE DOES THE SAME THING IN HIS OWN MANGA'S CHRISTMAS CHAPTER.

and in the Hero Studies crossover chapter, right at the end as an unused character. (wouldn't make sense to have two tsukkomis there tbh so i get it lolol)

Same thing happens in the anime except Jun in the Christmas episode wasn't animated like he's an actual pre-existing character, except just a background character so he looks different but has the same jacket with his initials so its definitely him.

so here's all his screentime:

his terrible sense of style was referenced by Takeru at one point as well. yes, Jun dresses terrible and he has outfits much worse than this. hes a loser and i love him

okay but what's with the saijun thing? orz

basically its a silly ship me and my lovely sweetest gf (@lu-kario ) came up with and it kinda stuck around. "omg haha what if the two protagonists from different manga dated" but yeah it became an actual thing with thought out scenarios between us.

Me saying it'd be like satousai but Kusuo finds someone "normal" with actual personality would be not giving this ship enough justice. I can't tell much rn cuz I forget 90% of the stuff i make up unless i write it down BUT all i'll say is that

I like to imagine Jun and Kusuo having a calm and nice relationship, lots of quality time spent playing video games or going out to get some ramen together. Kusuo gets to have someone more usual by his side and Jun isn't likely to be bothered by Ken when Kusuo is around (:3).

and yeah, they do get another scene together in volume zero! how lovely! the christmas episode is also one of the reasons i find the ship cool but even despite the sillies having canon scenes and illustrations together i like it simply for fun.

canon crossover ships are cool and epic

my final words: go read ohs its fully in japanese online and 5 chapters are in english so far.

seriously go read it the fandom doesn't exist its really lonely.

and if you care abt our hero studies u can motivate me in the ask box, gimme a kick on the butt so i go and translate this work again after like a year or more of hiatus

[sgt-floyd-pepper]

Stuilly Headcanons!!! (Sfw)

This is my third time writing this because every single time I type this out and post it, Tumblr gives me an error message. ╥﹏╥

Billy confessed to Stu first. They always had a relationship that transcended typical friendship means, (being insanely codependent on each other to function) and when Billy told him how he felt, Stu was like "aren't we already basically dating anyways? " LMAO

They are au4au (autistic/autistic). Stu has comorbid ADHD and Billy has BPD

Billy is trans and the first person he ever came out to was Stu. He helped him pick a name and they settled on Billy because of Billy Lenz from Black Christmas

Stu loves loves loves PDA!! He always plays it off as a joke but will call Billy petnames, hold his hand and grab his butt in public

Speaking of petnames!! Stu loves them just as much as he loves PDA. He struggles to take affection seriously and is very silly and jokey with them, simply because of who he is as a person.

Billy's love languages are gift giving and quality time (murder and plotting) and and Stu's are touch and words of affirmations

They have matching stick n pokes :)

Stu was Billy's first boy crush, and first boy kiss. He was basically his bisexual awakening.

They 100% will plan to "hang out" (violently make out) and the rest of the friend group makes jokes about them being secretly gay which makes Billy sooooo made.

Billy is the clingier of the two. He's definitely gone and got his class schedule changed to have his classes with Stu.

[ansbobcar]

EP 3. Blackmail? I didn't do that to him!

WORD COUNT. 3476

Link to overview

_ _ _

Ask any girl regarding their confessions on their current prefect, and it is guaranteed that Rayne Ames will shut it down.

ANONYMOUS #1: I thought he had a soft side but there’s absolutely nothing in there! He literally ignored my invitations to hang out.

ANONYMOUS #2: He embodies the qualities of an Adler to a T. Maybe that’s the problem, he can’t see a girl or woman the same way he sees magic.

ANONYMOUS #9: HE BROKE MY HEART!! I CAN NEVER LOVE AGAIN!!!

So why would it be any different with Darren Randel?

"I couldn't give a shit about you," he truthfully told her the morning after her slip up. "I'm just following the old geezer's words if that’s where the feelings came from."

‘How is he worse at being a jerk than me?’ His comment ruffled her as she let go of the shy buck, Bunnelton the XII, from suffering through her embarrassment.

“Look, I couldn’t give a shit about the old man’s orders!” She managed to string with no stutter but her face was losing it because of how his eyes simply assessed her like she was a poo pellet. “I wasn’t even trying to flirt with you yet!”

‘What is up with her?’ Every other girl would have just accepted and backed away. “What do you mean ‘yet’?” He scoffed incredulously. “What? You think enough effort will do anything?”

"I can cook!" she protested terribly. So did others, she wasn't special in this regard. “As I explained yesterday, it’ll be a win-win-win situation for all 3 parties right here!” 

“I barely even know you.”

“Then we can start out as friends!” She cut him off from replying.

"Let me try confessing 3 times, if you reject all 3 times I'll stop trying to bother you like this," she tried to plead. She needed time which wasn't likely if the Summer was coming up. She'd be busy with internships by then. There must be something he... a bulb lit up in her head as she gambled her chances on it.

"Agree or I'll tell the whole world you're secretly keeping 10 ra"—instantly he slapped his hand over her mouth—"bbits in the school's forest and I'll personally make coney dogs out of them," she mirrored his eyes which scrutinised her muffled words.

"Coney dog?"

"It's basically a hot dog," she dead-panned. "With extra stuff on top."

'She's... going to make them into sausages?' Scepticism slowly traced his face as each rabbit transformed into a large tube of reddish meat in his mind. 'Not Bunbun, Bunnifer, Bunaldo, Bunnelby, Bunnelton the XII, Buns, Bunster, Bunnykins and Bunno!’ His face paled to stone at the thought. He had to secretly ask permission from the principal to make it work since there were complaints in the dormitories smelling like shit a few months back.

The food offer was tempting since she could handle things while he was gone and Max could continue doing his own things too. It's been a while since he's had a fulfilling meal as well, glancing at the content figures of the bunnies hopping around.

"Fine. Only 3 times."

"Cool," she chirped, her shoulders slouched before she dropped herself back on the floor. “Another chance is nice…”

“But don’t butt into my business,” he added. “We aren’t friends yet.” 

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Something with vegetables."

The day continued as normal with the troublesome girl being busy with catch up classes to get asked out for duels and taking care of the rabbits again, so he knocked on the Adler Dorm’s Kitchen and saw her already prepping the ingredients. Chopping up the vegetables with ease. “Do you like tomatoes?”

“As long as they’re vegetables.”

“Alright,” continuing to cut through the ingredients as the water was simmering to a boil.

Although it might’ve not been as clear, there was a child-like wonder in his eyes as she gave him a sip of the soup to taste.

“How is it?”

“Like nothing.”

“Pass the salt and sugar, please.” He did as told as it was clearly labelled and she dumped what he could only assume to be an estimate as she picked up some more herbs, spices and… lemongrass(?) to chuck into the soup.

“Here,” she held up a small sauce tray to him. He took it.

“It’s more sour now… and spicier.”

“You want more or…”

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

“Rice?” He nodded his head as she turned off the heat on the stovetop and removed her apron to wear her robe before taking out some bowls with pre-added rice and scooped up the still hot soup into it.

“I like seafood so I put some shrimp, cut up squid and such in there alongside the vegetables. Hope it’s nice. Also this isn’t how it’s usually eaten but it’s easier to eat this way,” she explained.

He took a sip and as if he was filled with deja-vu, he felt… like he could see her again. 

An unfamiliar yet strong aroma wafted through the air, causing him to reach the kitchen with a slight spark in his eyes. “What did you make today?” He asked, excited for her next attempt at a recipe as he climbed onto the chair with his small limbs.

“It’s a bit spicier than mummy intended,” she chuckled as she brought the pot to the table with her mittens. Their father slowly brought his slightly shrieky baby brother over to his raised chair as she collected everyone’s bowls and cutlery. “But that’s why I made sure to put water here!”

“Will Finn be able to try it?”

She smiled at his words. “It’s a lot of salt for him to eat fully, so we’ll only let him have a taste.”

“Alright, thank you for the meal,” before he scooped up a spoonful of the soup his mother had given him. “AH!” He burned his mouth as he swallowed it.

“Rayne!”

“Remember to let it cool down a bit!” The auburn haired girl reminded him, taking him back to the current moment.

To which he chuckled, hiding back a smile. How does a soup made by a random girl he wasn’t friends with made him be reminded of a peaceful time he hasn’t had in a while?

“It’s a lot less spicy than I remembered,” he reminisced, following her advice as he scooped up some rice with the soup and blew onto it before taking another gulp of it. ‘Yeah. She would’ve refined it if…’

She lit up at his words, “Oh! You’ve tried Tomyum before?” Completely superseding her shocked reaction. ‘Rayne can chuckle?’

“When my mother was still around…”

“I see,” and thus they ate in silence. To Rayne, the meal was rather hearty, finishing the entire pot through sheer nostalgia much to the girl’s confusion.

“H-how old are you again?” She asked, not wanting to immediately call him a child.

“16.”

“I meant your birthday.”

“March 3rd.”

She paled. ‘A guy taller than me, younger than me?’ Her eyes widened like saucers. ‘And an orphan?’

“What about you?”

“February 18th.”

“... you’re older than me.”

“O-kay…”

She went to clean the dishes instead and he quietly helped out too. ‘He isn’t leaving me any time soon is he?’ Resigning herself to her fate. ‘I’m gonna die before I can properly ask this guy out aren’t I?’ As she handed over the last bowl for him to wipe clean followed by turning off the tap.

“I have a question,” he began slowly. “‘Impart Zero’, is that a dispelling type of spell?”

‘This is outta nowhere!’ She nodded as she quickly stashed away her items in her robe. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, usually someone chants a single word when casting their basic spell.” Atleast, that’s how he understood the concept of personal magic.

“There is no basic spell for Impart,” she sighed much to his puzzling look. “Because it’s meaningless on its own.”

While magic like Partisan functioned by summoning large blades at varying magnitudes of force and size through, something like her magic had no tangible form to counter the blades summoned. She pointed out.

“That’s true, you never summon something when you chant it.”

“Impart Zero simply reduces the magnitude of what I find unfair to nothing. In magic contexts: Yes it’s like ‘Dispel’ just better and more effective,” she searched for her keys and rayne felt like he had hit a road block. “It’s the easiest spell for me to do because it doesn’t require me to think about anything except the target. Usually focusing on their magic is the easiest.”

‘Perhaps that’s how she caused trouble with a singular spell.’

It’s subjective but at the end of the day, a mindset of inferiority and entitlement stems from it.

“Have you ever explained it that way to anyone?”

“Nah. Why would I?” She grinned manically. “The thought of someone being able to dispel any magic thrown their way sounds more menacing right?” Her eyes then seemed to become more aloof in a heartbeat as she kicked a stray pebble up the stairs. “I’d rather be a no-name nobody than be saddled with so many burdens because I’m useful to others.”

With a less bright smile, she waved him off. “See you tomorrow then, I’ll make something light.”

“See you.”

_ _ _

"Morning Rayne," Max beamed as he scooted over for his roommate to sit down. He looked around to find no silhouette of the transfer student or her chipper steps. "She's not here?" Odd.

"She's not," he curtly replied, placing down a packed lunch wrapped in a bright orange cloth, which piqued his friend's interest.

"Did you make breakfast today?"

"No, she did."

"She must've left rather early then." He just hummed at his words, watching as the rabbit loving boy opened the lid. A beautifully presented slices of bread alongside cleanly cut avocado and an omelette. Alongside a note attached at the side.

"I've got something urgent to take care of, I'll be back soon," he read aloud. It had an exclamation mark too. How chipper. The teachers seemed aware of her absence when they took attendance. Classes seemed a little more like last year, quiet and possibly boring without the girl’s interjections.

Thankfully, he was called over by the vice principal for a quick meeting with the other prefects. There was a wolf roaming last night on the 2nd year floors and it hadn’t been found yet.

“So a lycanthrope?” Abel Walker, the Lang Prefect suggested. A logical conclusion. “There haven’t been many sightings on campus since a few years back. So it’s probably a curse.”

“What do you even want us to do?”

“If the wolf is in deed a lycanthrope,” the vice principal gestured; “Find the student, and make the necessary arrangements.”

‘How crass,’ Rayne told himself as the meeting ended.

_ _ _

It’s been 2 weeks since she transferred. 2 weeks didn’t mean her previous schedule, inner workings and attentiveness had disappeared and adapted. She never slept during lessons, was always up and done with a run by the time she met the rabbit caretaker, and paired with the additional classes she had for advanced magic spells class and their other assignments, it was unnerving that she was so sprightly. Radiating that perfect student energy (even though she was anything but a perfect student) without cracking under the pressure of being behind in at least 5 subjects.

Their arrival into the classroom was met with some odd glances and murmurs but nothing out of the ordinary since her arrival.

“For today’s lesson we will be joining Professor Lucci’s class and conducting an exercise together,�� their teacher summarised today’s exercise as a door appeared to her left. She gestured to pass through it without any reluctance and setbacks her pupils. They were surrounded by gigantic hedges with roughly 40 students and 2 members of staff in the vicinity but the robe they were wearing was of a different colour. 

“Are they in the smarter class?”

“No. They’re just from the Lang dorm.”

“Today’s exercise is simple, the goal is to ‘Get out of the maze’,” the blonde man explained, showing an image of the exit. “Use what you have learned to escape and you may earn yourselves a silver coin or two.”

The others seemed to shift at this statement followed by a sense of belief. ‘That’s it?’ Something was amiss as they added on a few more details.

“Since you are in the advance class though, I’m sure 30 minutes is plenty of time to get out of the maze but you will have 40 minutes in total still, you may begin… now.”

Before she could even face her only friend, he surfed off and up with a single spell leaving her with the rest like sitting ducks.

‘THIS IS WHAT I GET AFTER MAKING HIM SOUP?’

The audacity that Rayne Ames had to abandon her in the centre of this goddamn corn maze! She looked around as students began to form small groups or walk straight ahead with their wands in hand. She didn’t even know any of these people! All of her assignments had either been alone or with that fucking half-piss hair, so she never fucking knew anyone as she watched her dorm’s students throw ideas and concerns at each other.

‘Focus!’ She tried to snap herself out of spiralling into a deepening loss of place. She had to complete the exercise. Technically, raising her palm at a hedge, she could bulldoze herself out with that lethal spell right away and dash straight out but the only issue would be the the blonde teacher’s statement which riled up everyone. 

‘You may earn yourselves a silver coin or two…’

To earn implies a challenge to be completed, she stretched herself first. Then the silver coins are rewards that people want? That would make the most sense from what she had gathered. 

“Venetris!” A student chanted to evaluate the terrain across the hedge directly. Nothing, it was pure grass and branches. “Let’s move, guys!”

It is a simple spell after all, allowing everyone to see through a certain portion of wherever it is aimed towards. The advanced version which has an effect on a much greater distance is Vitriniae at the expense of only being seen by the caster since it’s a self using spell.

“Repeat after me, Ms Randel,” her advanced spells teacher began once more, aiming her own wand towards the wooden box just days ago. “Vee-tree-nee-ae,” she uttered the syllables slowly before repeating it as a spell. “Vitriniae.”

“Vinitriae.” Unable to see through the box herself, she realised her mess up. “It was supposed to be Vitriniae!” The common problem with this spell amongst students in particular is the pronunciation since it’s similar to Venetris which requires less magic to use.

“From the top Miss Randel.”

She took a deep breath as she channelled her magic power towards her eyes. “Vin… Vitriniae,” she calmly uttered, now able to see through and evaluate the terrain for possible challenges. And unlike everyone else, who seemed adamant in avoiding these areas as possible traps and loss of time, the brunette crashed straight into one head on. Or rather three. One-time. Consecutive. Pressure Sensitive. Booby Trap. Spells.

‘Why does he get to fly?’ She huffed to herself, as she noticed a group of Adler students clumped together at a corner. With another spell, it revealed a magical creature, a Riddle Sphinx infront of a pale-haired student who seemed to be shaking in their shoes with each riddle answered correctly.

“30 white horses on a red hill,” it began its last riddle. “First, they champ, then they stamp, then they stand still.” A sense of loss pervaded the air. He didn’t know what was supposed to be answered, maybe if they had Orca students it would’ve been easier. Was it asking him what that correlated to?

“5 more seconds.”

“A ranch?” The student stammered out.

“Wrong.”

Ready to take out his wand, he would try to pull off a smoke spell to let the others pass on without him. A Riddle Sphinx only focused on a singular riddle compared to its other counterparts. Aorio Morris was going to lose this test, he gulped as the golden sand being roared.

“Teeth.” another girl with reddish brown hair jumped in and slumbered the being with a simple yet forceful kick. “Move along now, people,” she ordered as the others continued their plan before she hopped off in another direction. 

“Perceptive,” the blonde professor murmured to himself through the magic mirror. “Has she earned any coins yet?” As a new transfer student, her magical progress since her initial arrival has been nothing short of exponential. 

“No.”

“That’s surprising.” She’ll get them soon.

_ _ _

After defeating over 10 opponents, and only receiving about 4 silver coins from, she continued to search for more, finding the coins to be shaped oddly. Like a flattened cone. A bit of a coin… even though it was considered a coin? She’d have to ask later about it’s value.

Hidden with an invisibility spell in the distance was none other than the boy she had knocked out weeks ago. Gritting his teeth, he patiently watched for an opening. ‘I’ve done my research and practice into this spell.’ She was a one liner after all. There’s no way she could be stronger than him, watching as she walked herself into another obstacle. ‘I’ll utilise Burst in tandem with Nalcos to throw her off guard,’ readying his wand as a different creature towered over her. An iron golem. A man-made being created to help in magic training exercises. There were roughly 3 types of golems: heavy defence, speed, and magical power. The one with bulky arms screeched harshly towards them, cranking it’s arms as he glued her feet to the floor. ‘Focus on it and then you can admit your inferiority!’ However, these too would be quelled with her magic by thin air.

Wirth found her frustrating after destroying his worth and reputation. “You think I want to use my magic on you?” Evading his mud, she led his attacks towards the obstacle, each reaching a new level of power than the last and voila! Collapsing to bits, 2 silver coins spawned. Taking a huge side step, to pick them up, she walked over towards the vengeful student. “Here, you can have one. You guys seem particularly fond of these things. I’ll take the other one.”

‘What in the…’

“Why did you even transfer here?!” A sense of inferiority bubbled in him. “I don’t get it,” he clenched his fists. Why would she give it away so easily? Did she not want to become a Divine Visionary like Margaret Macaron from Orca?

“Partial credit is partial credit,” she hummed, ignoring his question. “If you want to do a duel or something again just find me around!” sprinting off into the distance, leaving him baffled by her existence once again.

_ _ _

Barely 5 minutes were left on the clock and she was still inside. The only one left inside. Was she trying to fail the exercise? For Rayne Ames who had already completed it with ease, earning himself an additional 2 coins, he couldn’t fathom her sluggish pace. Even the weakest students had passed the finish line. He walked towards the teachers who had a rafflesia mirror to see the progress within the maze.

She was against a different obstacle this time, one completely immune to magic spells. She should’ve spent her time to run for the exit instead of tying up the man-made ram. What a waste. ‘Neutralising a deadervant doesn’t produce coins, that’s a different exercise.’ Perhaps, Darren Randel’s weakness was her ambitious conviction in pursuit of challenge.

But her next actions felt… comical. After looking at each side, she held her palm wide open, pooling a large magnitude of magical energy. She chanted a lethal spell that would be taught the following year, “Eradica Maxima.” Bulldozing the garden the blonde professor had shaped. Rather overkill, as the gingerhead’s heels dug themselves to a halt from bumping into everyone at the finish line. instantly the buzzer went off. Her robe abandoned in the decimated grounds.

A short lived round of applause erupted for her performance. She bowed before pivoting into a sprint back to the maze remains and returned at a slightly slower pace than before. 

‘What did I just witness?’

The teachers then debriefed everyone regarding the class, showcasing a magical chalkboard of their times. Rayne Ames ranked first; Darren Randel ranked last.

“You know, you can collect a demerit if you continue to reach the time limit of the exercise,” another voice told her. It was Max Land.

“6 demerits means expulsion and we have our midterms coming up!”

_ _ _ _ _

I'm realising Darren's Explanation of her magic sounds like it's Billie's Unfair Negating Ability from Undead Unluck. Of course, keep in mind that it's Darren and Undead Unluck has some crazy power system that focuses on beliefs (manifestation shits). Sorry for the spoilsies randos who are getting into UU.

[userseokmins]

secret wishes ◦ h.v.c.

💞 🄿🄰🄸🅁🄸🄽🄶: Hansol Vernon Chwe x gn!reader 📚 🄶🄴🄽🅁🄴: Fluff, Humor/Comedy/Crack, PLATONIC!au, Besties!au 💬 ⓌⒸ: 3.4k ⚠️ 🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: Food, One mention of alcoholic beverages, Reader gets a tattoo, Cheesy corny stuff, Everyone is a menace imho, lmk if i missed smth! 📝 🄰/🄽: what better way to make a fic debut on this blog than a (very belated) birthday vernon fic to my beloved @aceofvernons. Basically it's a love letter from one bestie to another but it got kinda out of hand sjjskakak I still hope you enjoy it 🎉 (also ty Nova for color correcting and giving me confidence 💖)

It's like waking up disoriented from a dream. 

Vernon is suddenly snapped out of the daze Seungwkan had left him in moments ago. The man responsible for it is now standing next to him, barking orders out to at least five other people who are running around their tiny, shared apartment.

"Geez, you didn't need to make such a big deal outta things."

"Should've stopped me instead of pouting in silence in your abysmally dark room like always."

"It's not that dark," Vernon protests and scratches the back of his head, "and I don't pout." 

Lilac strands flutter as he tilts his head and does the very thing he said he doesn't do: pout. Seungkwan spares him a look only to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah Mr. Vamp. Maybe when a certain person isn't mentioned, sure." He jerks his head to the right. "Now get your lazy butt moving so I'm not tempted to take a hundred percent of the credit, love, and appreciation in your stead."

Vernon reluctantly peers into the kitchen. Mingyu is waving a spatula in a threatening manner at Wonwoo and their partner for eating and playing with the batter he's been working hard on. Peeking into the living room causes his entire body to cringe at Seokmin and his fiance who are supposed to be blowing up balloons. Instead, they're taking a break to giggle and kiss at one another's necks.

Ugh.

Seeking reprieve, he finally finds comfort stumbling next to Joshua, the seemingly only calm one among the other chaotic scatterbrains. With a kind smile, the maroon-haired man hands a loose end of the various paper chains he's looping together to Vernon, who readily takes it.

"You're pouting."

"I don't pout, Josh."

"Sure, sure. Unless it's about you know who."

"Seungkwan said the same sort of nonsense."

"He's not wrong. Otherwise he wouldn't be putting in all this effort for the both of you."

Vernon frowns. "He didn't have to."

"He did 'cause you were pouting. We all had to."

"I don't… ugh, whatever. All I wanted was something small but different."

"It's different that's for sure." Red bangs fly up when Joshua snorts at a sweaty Seungcheol stumbling through the front door, flanked by additional friends, to bring in an unnecessarily large table. "I know it's not what you normally do but I think it'll be nice."

"We like to do quiet things. Just the two of us. But everything's been screwed up this year."

Joshua's laughter is soft and melodic despite the underlying mockery Vernon suspects it disguises. "So, this surprise party and the commotion that came with it isn't bothering you. You're sulky because quality bestie time has been sacrificed since they went away."

Just because he's right doesn't mean he has to say it. 

"I'm not sulking and I'm not sure what's so funny either." 

"You are, my dear buddy!" He clasps his friend's shoulder reassuringly whose lilac hair cutely lessens the intensity of his perpetual frown. "After we celebrate, you'll get them all to yourself."

Vernon's nose crinkles. "Why is everyone being so insufferable?"

Not bothering to reply, the other man simply hums and stands to hang the completed portion of the chain. He can manage his grumpy younger friend who's now stapling the remaining rectangular pieces of paper a little bit too aggressively. The knowledge that Vernon will settle back into his easy-going nature once you return is inevitable. 

It's just a question of how long all of them will be able to hold out until then.

By the time the sun sets, the fast-paced energy of the afternoon has dwindled down and the party preparations are finally finished.

"Are you sure it will be fine?"

"Honestly, Chwe! Do you not trust my baking skills?" 

"More like I don't trust my fridge."

Seungkwan looks up at the exchange between a whiny Mingyu and indifferent Vernon. "Just don't open the fridge overnight and everything should be fine." He huffs, handing a stack of empty pizza boxes to Seokmin. "There's nothing but the cake in there anyways."

That must be enough to satisfy the dessert maker who obnoxiously puffs out his chest in pride. Wonwoo secures the last pack of untouched beer he'd brought in one hand and his partner's wrist tenderly in the other. Bidding everyone a good evening, he leaves with Mingyu following behind them like an elated puppy heading back home after a tiring walk.

"We'll take these and head out too," Seokmin supplies helpfully as he and his fiance finish gathering the final pieces of trash laying around. "See you tomorrow!"

Joshua is the last to go and jingles his car keys loudly before shutting the door with an exclamation of, "Enjoy the surprise!"

He disappears with a cheeky grin and swift departure before the opportunity to be questioned arises and Vernon turns to his unphased roommate.

"What did he mean by that?"

"Oh, you know him. Sometimes he's normal, more often he's not. Probably just wanted to re-remind you of that fact."

Seungkwan's statement is one that anyone can agree with. Figuring Joshua meant nothing as usual, it's already forgotten by the time Vernon's made his way up the steps.

Much later into the night, he's on a desperate search for something when you call but picks up nonetheless. No matter what he's doing, one thing for sure is that he'll always answer the phone when it displays your name. Because it's you.

But maybe that wasn't the smartest decision.

"Hello 'sol!"

"Hey bestie," the phone is cradled between his shoulder and ear as he rummages between the couch cushions. "What's up?"

"Nothing much, guess I just wanted to hear your voice."

A silly smirk halts him in his tracks. "Miss me?"

"Oh, how I long for you so!" The sarcasm lacing your words can't fully hide the smile he hears. "I've talked to you every day as always, it's like I never even left."

"Wish you didn't."

"You and I both. It's nice to be home but still…"

"We've always spent your birthdays together."

"Which is exactly why you should've come back with me!" 

"Couldn't intrude on the fam like that."

You sigh. "No one would've minded, you're so dear to them." Mimicking your mother's voice, you continue, "Where's that lil Hansolie of yours? We enjoy his company so much, it's as if he's our son. In fact — we might love him more than our own child!"

Vernon laughs brightly. Bold and loud like he always does in your presence. You draw that part out of him like no one else can, setting him at ease to simply be himself. Comfortable. There are no appearances to uphold with you, no worries either. Everything melts away and it's easy to forget what he was all stressed about before you called. Until hurried feet pounding on the floor signify that someone is about to rush into the living room.

"I found them! I found the — " Seungkwan's happy skip halts upon seeing his friend on the phone and attempts to catch his breath after scrambling down the steps. But the keywords to the unfinished sentence roll right off Vernon's tongue out of relief without thinking. 

"The rings?"

Even if he can't see, you perk up from your slouched position in the car and repeat eagerly, "Rings?"

Vernon shares a wide-eyed look with the other man in the room who hesitantly places the box on the coffee table. So much for being relaxed — he got too relaxed and ended up spilling the secret. Exposing himself like an idiot. He normally doesn't care that you are privy to everything there is to know about him but now…

Licking his lips nervously, he chuckles awkwardly. "Uh… yeah?"

"Did you get married or something in the week that I was gone?" you tease. "What's all this ring business about?"

"N-nothing. It's nothing big… y'know how Kwannie was… contemplating… um, engagement."

The man in question gapes and starts waving theatrically while mouthing silent charades full of utter disbelief and betrayal that are readily ignored.

Meanwhile, you snort. "Oh yeah, because that's definitely not a big deal at all. About time! But how did you end up with his rings then?"

Vernon turns his back on a dramatic Seungkwan in order to focus on organizing a believable white lie. "We… invited some of the guys over to talk it out and uh, he didn't want to lose them in the chaos because… he's still deciding and all that, you know… "

"Incredible," you mutter, "yet it seems like you lost them."

Panic, his brain screams. And maybe some shame added as well.

"But whatever, at least you found them." Somehow you seem to miraculously buy his pathetic excuse. Leaving the matter alone because you're distracted by a hearty yawn, he lets out a quiet exhale of relief while you stretch your neck out. "I'm tired." 

Your best friend collapses onto the couch, feeling exhausted himself. "You should get some rest."

"And miss when the clock strikes twelve?"

"You've got a long day ahead, flying out after your celebration. You know you can stay longer if it's too much." 

He's a little nervous saying that after everyone excitedly spent time to set up a surprise party but your well-being will always be more important to them over anything else. 

Mingyu and his cake would survive.

"Puh-lease," you grumble and Vernon knows your eyes just have to be rolling, though you're actually glancing at your watch. "Don't you worry your handsome little head, I'll be right on time."

His eyebrows furrow. "On time for what?"

But you've already put the speaker away from your face, giggling like a gremlin in the background before you loudly cackle, "You're a horrible liar, Hansol!"

He breaks out into a cold sweat, even more perturbed when you simply hang up without even a farewell. "What is up with people today?" 

"I dunno, what's up with you?" Phone held dazedly in one hand, Vernon turns to face Seungkwan's wrath. "Because suddenly, I'm engaged — according to your standards!"

"Sorry 'bout that. I'll explain everything when I give them their gift, okay? I think… I don't think they believed me anyway."

"Even Bookkeu wouldn't be fooled by that awful acting. Gosh, now I'm gonna feel bad about not proposing."

"Aw, c'mon Kwan. You know that's not what this meant."

Seungkwan's not really upset and Vernon knows that. Still. It's a subtle sting of a reminder that neither in the ten-year relationship have made a move for sealing that lifelong commitment. It would be a lie to say that it didn't occasionally eat away at the gentle-hearted man. Not that marriage was needed in every romantic relationship.

"I should've said Seokmin but that wouldn't have made sense either… "

"Those two? They're so attached to the hip they would've never handed over their rings to anyone. As a matter of fact though, I wouldn't give you mine either seeing as how you treated yours."

Vernon is quick to jump at his roommate and put him in a light headlock as faux retaliation, knuckles rubbing on the top of his hair while the latter yells in protest. They roughhouse as usual (this time staying clear of any lamp posts), nearly pulling off one another's clothes in the friendly tussle.

That's the position they freeze in when there's two heavy bangs on the door — Vernon with his hand fisted in Seungkwan's collar who has the former's shirt halfway up his torso. Inching closer to one another, they hold their breath. Peeking warily at the front door before meeting each other's terrified eyes that continue to widen in alarm when the beeping sounds of the code being entered starts after two seconds of silence. 

They scream (very manly screams if anyone asks them about it afterwards) when the lock clicks open because who on earth knows their code and would break into their apartment at 11:56 PM?

"It's me!" You announce with a flourish — arms raised in exhilaration — only to lower them in confusion. "Oh. Am I interrupting something?"

Joshua glances around you to laugh at the two men entangled in what now looks like a hug. "Is that how you guys plan to defend yourselves? With a lover's embrace? You knew we were coming, Kwannie."

"I didn't know you'd show up at midnight!"

They step away from one another with disgruntled expressions and Vernon side-eyes everyone dubiously.

"You knew?" 

Seungkwan's stuttered excuse is cut short when your (and everyone else's) phone buzzes and you excitedly cheer, "Happy gremlin birth hour to me!," and turn to a gobsmacked Vernon. "Aren't I gonna get my welcome back squish and squeeze?"

Of course, he could never deny you a hug. Especially on your birthday. Even if you scared the crap out of him by 'breaking in' when you're supposed to be far away with your family still, he opens his arms with an upward lift of his lips.

"Happy birthday, bestie. Now tell me, what in the world are you doing here?"

He takes in your appearance. Despite the off-and-on nap in Joshua's car on the way back from the airport somewhat helping, there's no way your animated behavior can hide all the obvious tiredness and jet lag.

You back away with a pat to his left bicep that has various rows of little black tattoo symbols encircling it, rocking back and forth on your heels.

"Wanted to celebrate my birthday with you!"

"You should have rested."

"I'm not a child, I wanted to surprise you!"

"But — " Vernon gestures helplessly to you, then the decorations he's sure you haven't noticed, and expects some support from his other friends but they have seemingly disappeared to give the two of you privacy. Plus, likely to escape him asking about the bizarre circumstances.

Gee, what wonderful pals.

"I know, I know… all of you put in a lot of effort. Especially Kwannie."

"I helped too!"

"But it was his original idea and organization, no? You'd never plan something like this."

"Why do you know everything, it's your birthday?" He groans in exasperation at your laughter. "It's supposed to be a secret and you're supposed to be surprised!"

"Ah, speaking of which," you eagerly roll up your right sleeve, "look at what I got!"

His eyebrows raise at the reveal of the ink that now circles over your skin. "Oh? You got tatted?"

"Yes! When I called after you got yours last year, the waitlist was so long I ended up just scheduling it as a birthday gift."

From afar, one might think they're the same as the ones dotting his arm. But upon closer inspection, he's more than pleased to see how you chose to have your own unique personality shine through. Miniscule versions of symbols that mean something precious and objects that seem to represent you best are outlined or filled-in with your favorite color.

"Beautiful."

You smile broadly at how awestruck your best friend is. "No, you."

"No, you."

"No, you."

"Fine, we're both pretty!" Vernon relents, well aware that this could go back and forth forever. 

"That we are." You urge him to sit down on the couch and situate yourself next to him, right shoulder to his left, and grab his wrist. "Look!"

Extending your joined arms, you show him how your tattoos align almost perfectly. Then securing his other free hand in yours with the traditional pinky promise the two of you have done since childhood. He chuckles as you nudge him cajolingly with an elbow.

"I see."

"What do you see?"

"You just want me to say something cheesy 'cause you're in your affectionate era."

"It's the least you could do on my birthday."

A deep, weary sigh. "We're… each other's… better… half?"

The hands you have placed on his body tighten their hold as you squeeze hard in your excitement. He grunts as appropriate between your rambling, focusing mainly on when he'll be able to get circulation back where you're gripping, until you suddenly deflate.

"I messed it up. Stupid, sleep-deprived brain."

"You're not stupid."

"You're right, it's your fault."

"Mine?"

"I took the brain cell but now you have it back because we're together." Finally freeing the poor man, you stand in front of him and point. "Okay, let me try again so you'd better wipe your mind clear."

"Yeah, yeah." Vernon crosses his arms and pretends to look annoyed as if there isn't a goofy grin on his face.

"It was supposed to go something like this. We mirror each other, right?" You gesture to your tattoos again. "We're very similar, maybe even too similar at times. But," you flop down where you were originally seated, "we're also different! Different enough that we can compensate for each other's weaknesses and complement each other's strengths… you know, like you said — all that corny stuff."

"Cute."

"Like you."

"And you."

You lean in so close to Vernon that your noses almost touch. "Yeah, because we're besties and we look cute together. Okay, since I ruined the surprise and told you all my secrets, isn't it your turn now?"

"My turn?"

"Yeah, Mr. Rings."

"Ah… so that was your goal all along."

"Of course, I'm waiting with bated breath."

He raises his chin in the direction of the coffee table. "It's right there."

Despite teasing him about not wrapping it, you quickly snatch the velvet box before he can grab it himself. "Couple rings?" You put a hand over your heart dramatically. "Aw, you shouldn't have, Hansol."

"They're bestie rings, you dolt."

"Did you just call me an idiot?!"

"Yeah. With affection though."

You make a sound of disgust but return to the precious gift, lips curling upwards. "They're beautiful."

"Copycat."

"Stop it, you love me."

"I do."

"Then put it on me," you demand, handing him the ring box and wiggling your fingers in anticipation. 

Vernon mumbles something about how impatient you are and to chillax. But he does as asked and gently takes the hand always used to pinky promise and bro-slap him. Sliding the ring on your middle finger, pleased when it's a perfect fit. Then, he does the same on his own and scrunches his nose in satisfaction.

"Perfect."

"I know."

He takes your hand back in his like before, and brings you into the kitchen. Identical rings brush against each other and the tattoos on your arms act like magical sigils to shield from anything that threatens to break through the personal bubble created by your joined hands.

"How did you figure out my ring size?"

"There are lots of opportunities because you don't fall asleep until some ungodly hour and happen to still be passed out when normal people awaken. So thanks for that."

You stick your tongue out at his snarkiness and receive a dollop of icing on it in return. "Mingyu makes amazing cakes!"

"So you knew about that too."

"Duh. And I know he'll be mad if you cut a piece."

"Two," Vernon deviously points out and places a plate down for himself. 

It would be an absolute crime to not devour such a delicious treat, figuring it a waste to let it sit out instead. Making a gross noise of appreciation at the first bite, you couldn't wait to thank Mingyu later. 

You get that opportunity the next morning as more and more friends from the day before tiptoe in one after the other per Seungkwan and Joshua's request. Quiet giggles and definite blackmail material when they sneak a peek into the kitchen to see you and Vernon fast asleep with your heads laying on the counter, limbs splayed all over the place and each other. 

The two of you had chattered about everything, anything, and nothing at all. No words needed to be said even when a comfortable silence settled as the sun started to rise before both of your eyelids closed. 

You were his best friend and he was yours. That was all that mattered. The strength of your bond meant that you were content just being in each other's thoughts, even at times you were far apart. Physical reminders like tattoos or rings were just the cherry on top of the cake that you had worked hard and spent years together on creating.

Speaking of cakes…

"My precious darling," Mingyu whisper-screeched from afar, "I knew you would be destroyed!" 

He sighs, distraught, and Wonwoo pats him on the back. Their partner begins snickering when the tall man gingerly lifts up the new one he brought with shaking hands. "Good thing I made two!"

userseokmins 2023 ©

[obsidiancreates]

Gus Knows Shawn Knows That He's Telling The Truth

(So note: I have that thing where I can't picture images in my head, so I have no fucking clue how it works for people who actually can picture stuff, so uhhhh if I describe memories/imagination weird, that's why.)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Come on, that's not right and you know it! I just can't see it when I play it out in my head."

"Gus, play it back in your brain, I know we saw the same thing."

"I just don't see it playing out that way, there's something more here."

It's years of these comments before Gus finally asks, "Okay, what do you mean by that?"

"Hmm?" Shawn looks up from his laptop. "What, the camera grain thing? I told you they swapped to digital on season 4, Gus, you didn't need to google it to believe me."

"Not that, and I still don't believe they'd disrespect classic film like that. I mean the way you talk about remembering and imagining things."

Shawn sits back, eyes fully off his laptop. "How do you mean?"

"I've just never heard anyone talk about that kind of thing the way you do. Like it's a movie or something."

"I mean, it basically is," Shawn says with a shrug. "What, yours isn't?"

"No, Shawn!"

"What is it like, then?"

"I don't know. When I imagine something it's not like watching a movie, though. I have to work at picturing things, at least a little."

"Huh. Weird. Half the time I just see things, literally in front of my eyes." Shawn waves his hand in front of his face. "Literally, when I remember something I stop seeing things around me and see the memory. Same for when I piece things together, I stop seeing things around me and see what I imagine happened."

"Wait, what?" Gus sits up straighter, brow creasing. "You stop seeing things?"

"Again, you don't?"

"No! People don't literally see memories, Shawn, that's crazy."

"Huh." Shawn looks thoughtful. "Must be the eidetic memory thing, then. I thought everyone could literally rewatch things they saw, just, in worse quality. Sort of fuzzy, a little grainy. Sometimes things are highlighted."

"You're not pulling my leg, are you? That's really how your brain works?"

"How else did you think it worked?"

"I don't know! You know it's almost impossible to verbalize the inner workings of the mind and imagination!"

"I think I just did it pretty well, actually."

"Whatever, Shawn. I'm looking this up online, and i I find out you're messing around again, you owe me ice cream."

"And if you discover I'm telling the truth, you owe me ice cream."

"Deal."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Told you." Shawn flicks his balled-up candy wrapper at the trashcan and misses.

"But it doesn't say anything about stuff being highlighted, so I still win."

"No, that doesn't count. Clearly that's just a side effect of The Sweetness mixing with the memory."

"And it's only near visual, it doesn't say anything about literally being unable to see the things around you."

"So mine is just stronger, probably because Dad had me sharpen it. ... Damn, I just gave him credit for something, didn't I? pretend you didn't hear that."

"Plus, it only applies to actual memories. You said it also happens when you imagine things. Check and mate."

"It does! Well, not always. Usually just on a case, or when I try pulling the psychic mojo out."

"Nope. Internet says you're lying about that."

"Well, then the Internet is the one lying. Which one do you believe, Gus? Your best friend for your whole life, or some random person with a laptop and love of lying?"

"You also have a love of lying, Shawn."

"... You've got me there."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Thanks." Gus hangs up, and looks over at Shawn's desk, smiling smugly.

"Well, that's not good." Shawn checks his drawers for pranks, but nothing. "Alright, what'd you do? Am I about to stand up and have paint all over my butt or something?"

"I called your mom."

"You know her new number?"

Okay, that's can't go unaddressed. "I got her business number from the web. You don't know her personal number?"

Shawn just shrugs.

"Your folks are messed up. Now I wish I hadn't called her."

"I do too. Why'd you do it if we both agree it was a bad idea?"

"To talk about the memory thing."

"Again? Gus, I thought we dropped this last week."

"We did. And then you said that you just couldn't 'see' my suspect doing it on our last case."

"So perfectly normal phrases are cause for interrogating my parents now?"

"Yes, because, she said that's not how it works."

"Hers is only sounds, Gus."

"She said it's still not how it works, even with visuals. Your imagined wrap-up scenarios shouldn't be as vivid as your actual memories, and you shouldn't be unable to see the actual world around you when you remember things. She was really worried about that until I told her you were messing with me."

"I'm not!" Shawn leans forward. "Here, I'll do it right now." He puts his fingers to his head, and Gus rolls his eyes.

"Shawn, I've seen you do it a million times."

"Yeah, but get up and do something while I do this."

"You can just say you didn't see what I was doing."

Shawn yanks his hands down and clicks his tongue. "Man, what do I have to do to convince you that this is how my brain works?"

"I hope you can't, because then that means you have hallucinations all the time, and I know you wouldn't go to a doctor about it."

"Hallucinations," Shawn huffs with a humorless laugh. "That's totally different, man. I'm not seeing or hearing things that aren't there around me, I'm using things I know to make a scene in mind and playing it out."

"But it's directly interfering with your perception of the current reality." Gus's smug look slides off as Shawn doesn't make any jokes back. "... You're really serious about this?"

"Oh, now that I might have something wrong with my brain-"

"No, Shawn, I didn't mean it like that." Gus stands up. "But you're serious? About seeing stuff like it's really happening, right in front of you?"

"Not always in front." There's a seriousness to Shawn's voice that Gus doesn't hear often. It's not angry, it's not upset, but it's not lighthearted either. It's... genuine. A little vulnerable. "Sometimes off to the side or behind me. It's clearer when I have more information or a solid idea to play off, and I'm not there. Not usually, anyway. It's more like TV, like I said, and I'm the camera, but I'm not a person."

Shawn glances up at Gus for one second before quickly looking away, searching his desk for something to fiddle with. "You're sure that's not how it works for everyone else?"

"Pretty sure." Gus sits in the armchair closest to Shawn's desk. "Shawn-"

"Did you ask my dad?"

"What?"

"If he sees things that way."

"No."

"So maybe it's from him." Shawn hunches back over his desk to keep doodling pineapples. "Probably some kind of trick or technique he drilled into my head."

"But-"

"I'm not seeing things." The sudden defensiveness makes Gus snap his mouth shut. Shawn balls up the paper and tosses it into the trashcan without looking. It goes right in, dead center. "Look man- it's enough that I can't just walk in a room or go on a date without all of this going on."

Shawn waves his hands by his head. Gus thinks this is the first time he's heard Shawn complain about his gift themselves, and not just the way his dad always pressures him to use them.

"If I'm hallucinating on top of that, I just don't want to know. So let's drop it."

"... Okay." Gus looks out the window. "You want some peanuts then?"

It works, Shawn's body language relaxing again. "Not today, I saw him sneeze into his hand and then fill a bag without the scooper yesterday."

"What?!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gus snaps his laptop shut, but it's too slow. Shawn's mouth quirks at the corners, like he's so overwhelmingly, evilly gleeful that his face can't process it yet.

"It's not what you think."

"Gus." Shawn puts a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Gus, buddy. It's a lie, remember? If you need me to explain my process more just say so."

"I was just looking, Shawn."

"At How TO Tell If You're Psychic websites? Come on, buddy." Shawn pats his shoulder again and drops a packet of powered doughnuts onto the desk before sitting down in one of the window armchairs. "At least try to come up with a good backstory man. Wait, let me guess."

"No-"

But Shawn already has his eyes closed. "You came in today and sat around for all of five minutes before looking it up, because you're a fool."

"How'd you know-"

"The sweetness. Plus you had like a million tabs open already."

"Yeah, well." Gus adjusts himself in his chair, refusing to feel ashamed. "These websites say you're not alone."

"They all say that Gus, they're about ghosts."

"No, with the way you see things. Most of these are just random garbage, but some of the dinkier ones actually say the same as what you described when you imagine stuff."

"Gus-"

"I'm not saying you're psychic, but I'm saying that based on what I've found, you're not the only person who thinks like that. In fact, based on what I read, your eidetic memory and detective training work hand-in-hand with what you've got."

"What I've got?"

"And overactive imagination and out-of-body experiences."

"Great." Shawn stands up and grabs the doughnuts back.

"Hey!"

"People who psychoanalyze me don't get doughnuts, Gus."

"I'm not psychoanalyzing you! You seemed upset that I thought it was weird-"

Shawn scoffs. "When has that ever upset me? I'm proudly eccentric."

"-so I wanted to show you it's not that unusual. I was trying to be nice, Shawn."

"Well, you did it poorly, because now I know my brilliant mind works the same as people who think they can actually speak with ghosts."

Gus tsks at Shawn and opens his laptop back up. He goes back to reading the page, and glances up at his friend from behind his screen. "... Hey Shawn?"

"Yeah?"

"You think the peanut guy is still sick?"

"Nah, he should be fine." Shawn pulls out some paperwork from the station and groans. "A fi- really? We're filing things away now? Why'd you have them send this over?" He reads it. "What is this, a witness statement? Gus."

"Nothing to do with me."

"It's got a note from Buzz stapled to it that says 'Here's what you asked for, Gus, have a good day.' Look, he added a smiley face. That's adorable."

Stop calling full grown men 'adorable'."

"He's not a full-grown man. He's a full grown Labrador that turned into a man, and you can't prove me wrong. ... This is from our last case."

Gus starts to sweat.

Shawn narrows his eyes. "This is the statement about the thing with the van..." He looks up. "Gus... why exactly did you ask me to explain that deduction to you in as much detail as possible?"

"Just curious, like I said then." He knows it's a bad lie. Even a non-Shawn would clock it.

"Oh, Gus. Buddy, you're not seriously thinking I'm psy-"

"Why're you checking the mail anyway? You never do that."

"I felt like checking it today."

"Why? Felt important?"

"Oh my god."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I can see it, clearly!" Shawn shouts, hand to his head as he stands atop the picnic table in the park. He swivels around, pointing among the crowd of soccer moms gathered for their now ruined potluck. "You, June, despised Carol for her status among the neighborhood! The best barbecues, the best garden, the best book club picks-"

"This is absurd," June spits, looking frantically at Jules and Lassie. "You can't believe him!"

"AH!" Shawn stumbles back, squishing a plate of lasagna under his shoe. "Oh, sorry, um- it was all veggie anyway, it's-it's not much of a loss. Ahem. Oh, OH, OH! I feel it! I see it and I feel it! You and Carol were both looking to become head of the PTA, and you knew she was a shoo-in! It was just one more in a long line of titles you wanted that she took!"

"She didn't even want to ban the right books from the classrooms!" June backs away. "She-she flaunted everything! She was tacky!"

"You couldn't stand it." Shawn points at her. "You just couldn't stand it, any longer! She got the house you wanted, her husband got the promotion over yours, she got the parties and the gossip and all you got were passive-aggressive pies!"

"Those stupid pies," June seethes.

"That's what she's most upset about?" Jules says, not whispering but not shouting.

"It was the final straw. You went to her house and you gave the pie back, but she laughed at you! She told you it wasn't a big deal!"

"SHE DID!"

"And so you took that glass pie dish and you slammed it over her head! You did it over and over, until she couldn't. laugh. any. more."

"Yes," June sobs as her fellow soccer moms collectively make a wide berth around her. "Yes, I did! She didn't even try! Every pie was overcooked, every decoration in her house was the wrong color for the walls, everything was wrong! She was ruining my LIFE!"

"Sure," Lassie says as he cuffs her. "Four bedroom with no mortgage to pay off, seems like she really dragged you through the mud."

"It's only two full bath," June sobs as she's lead away. "The other two are only half-baths, it's squalor, it's a slum-"

Shawn hops down from the table and wipes his heel on the grass. "I'm reminded yet again why I'm not a homeowner, Gus."

"You're not a homeowner because you don't make money, Shawn, not because you chose not to be."

"I've heard it both ways."

Gus's eyes flicker over to June sitting in the squad car. "So how'd you know Carol laughed at her?"

"Oh, not this again."

"What?! I'm just asking a question, Shawn!"

"No, you're yet again digging into my head because you have somehow gotten sucked into the lie that you help me fake!" Shawn whisper-yells.

"All I asked was how you knew she laughed!"

"I knew because that's what people like this do! They laugh at each other and make fun of stupid things until one of them snaps!"

"Did you see her laughing?"

"GUS!" Shawn grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him. "Snap back into the real world, I am begging you!"

"Get off of me!" Gus slaps Shawn's hands off. "Fine! What else have you seen through this case?"

"What?"

"What other things have you seen?"

"Why are you asking?"

"If anyone is here right now that you 'imagined' something about, we can settle this by asking them."

"This is ridiculous."

"Scared I'm right?"

Shawn takes the bait. He looks around and, with a huffed laugh and sly look, takes off. "Hey! Debbie!"

The woman looks up from where she's packing up the potluck. "Oh, not you again. Don't you have more ghosts to speak to?"

"I do. In fact, one is bothering me right now." Shawn elbows Gus. "The spirit is asking me to verify a vision I had of you. It was fuzzy, and possibly a malicious spirit trying to deceive me. I need to check."

"Fine. You have until I'm done bagging this up."

Shawn raises one hand to his head and presses his middle fingers fingertip to his temple. "Early in this case, I had a vision of you doing your dishes and seeing June and Carol's husband arguing on their front lawn."

"You already asked me about this."

"Yes, I did. But the spirits are insisting there are details that were cosmically tampered with." Shawn gives Gus a smarmy look, which is odd, since he's trying o prove something he thought is wrong. "I... I heard you humming, yes. I believe it was... Livin' La Vida Loca."

He looks at her with a face that says he fully expects to be wrong. But her jaw drops.

"Y-yes. How-how did you know that? I don't even like that song, it just-it came on while I was driving earlier that day."

"Oh, um... well, that-that's good, then. That that part was right." Shawn takes a second, and then nods. "Um, I also see the detail of you opening your window to hear it better. You thought it could be interesting gossip for... a lunch with your sister?"

"Yes!"

"Really? ... Okay, um-" Gus nudges Shawn to get him to keep going, because Shawn is visibly losing his nerve. "I also see..."

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. "I see... you dropped a plate when you heard June accuse Carol's husband of insider trading. It was a... blue? Plate? One of those ones that's more of a bowl, really. And it chipped."

"Yes." Debbie hasn't been bagging food for a while now, staring at Shawn with complete awe. "Yes, and-and I thought I should stop listening then."

"But you didn't." Shawn blinks his eyes open. "Even though you told us you did the first time we did this, right?"

"... I-I didn't want to be considered complicit if it turned out true... oh, I-I didn't- tell the spirit I'll report her husband-"

"No need, ma'am," Gus says soothingly. "He was investigated already, he's clean."

Debbie deflates with relief. "I didn't mean to lie, I just... I was scared."

"It's fine." Shawn turns on his heel and speed-walks to The Blueberry, visibly rattled. Gus lingers for a moment to give Shawn some space.

"Thank you for clearing that up, his visions can make it difficult to tell what's relevant and what's not sometimes."

"I-I can't imagine. How does he manage to live, with that in his mind all of the time?"

"I'm still figuring that out too, honestly." And now so is Shawn. "Have a nice rest of your day, Miss Debbie."

Gus jogs to The Blueberry. As soon as he gets in, the puting Shawn beside him speaks up.

"That doesn't prove anything. I probably saw the chipped plate when we talked to her."

"You didn't go through her cabinets."

"Could've been in the dish drainer."

"Was it?"

Shawn doesn't answer. Only he can conjure up an image clear enough to re-examine like he's right there in the room in real life, so Gus can't say for sure if the plate was put away or not. But Shawn knows.

And his silence says everything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm not entertaining this, man." Shawn tosses the ball up and nearly misses the catch on it's way back down. "It was a couple of weirdly good guesses. Besides, it was all tiny, irrelevant details. I still got our last case wrong half the time."

"We've checked with witnesses for our last three cases, and you were able to describe details you shouldn't know for all of them."

"I do that all the time."

"But you can't explain how you got those guesses right. Come on Shawn, guessing that the kid who only wore pastel floor-length dresses was a hardcore hip-hop fan? There was nothing about her that should have tipped you off."

"Some of what I notice is subconscious, you know, I'm not always aware of every little thing my brain picks up on. That's what a gut feeling is, man."

"Sometimes, for sure. But sometimes it might be psychic visions."

"If these are real psychic visions, they're the most useless visions of all time. Do you really want to be friends with a psychic who can guess the shoes someone was wearing last Tuesday but can't find a murderer until the fourth try?"

"All the websites and books-"

"Why do I talk to you?"

"-say that the less a psychic practices seriously, the more they get wrong."

"That's just a way to cover their asses when other fakes get caught."

"Or, you just need to practice, and we can stop making fools of ourselves with false accusations."

"So that's what this is all about? You just want me to accuse fewer people? That's how process of elimination works, Gus!"

"We're trying it again, right now." Gus wheels his chair over to Shawn's desk.

"I'm not doing this."

"Yes, you are." Gus thinks for a moment. "Try to tell me what your dad said to me after that birthday party where you caught someone trying to steal the cake corner I wanted."

"When we were nine? How do I know you'll even remember that well enough to say if I get it right?"

"Trust me, it's burned into my memory." Because it freaked him out.

"This is stupid."

"Just tell me what you think happened after you left. He scolded you for tackling the kid as they ran away, and you left, and I wanna know what you see when you imagine what happened after that."

Shawn shrugs, face scrunched with hesitant frustration. "I-I don't know Gus, something like-"

Henry kneels down and pats Gus on the shoulder. He gives the child a sharp smile, looking at the door Shawn had just stormed through. "Just you wait, Guster. Someday you'll be able to tell people your best friend is the perfect cop."

"-or something." Shawn opens his eyes and pulls his hand down from his head. He locks eyes with Gus-

Who's mouth is open and eyes wide as they can get.

"What?"

"That was word for word, Shawn!"

Shawn blinks, and then scoffs, a crooked grin spreading across his face and his leg beginning to bounce nervously. "Okay, I just happen to guess what my dad said to you decades ago-"

"No, no," Gus moves closer, pressing one hand to the desk as he fully rounds it and then putting both on Shawn's shoulders. "Dude, I mean the whole thing was exactly like that. The kneeling to my eye level-"

"That's just how he used to talk to us."

"-and the weird smile-"

"All his smiles are weird, it's something I thank the universe every day I didn't inherit."

"-the way he said 'perfect' that made me a little worried he wanted to replace you with a robot-"

"Because he probably did want to."

"Shawn!"

"Gus!" Shawn slaps his best friend's hands off of his shoulders. "I am not psychic! Come on, I thought if either of us was going to forget that one day it'd be me!"

"Well I think you are!" Gus stands and puts his hands on his hips. "You know, this is actually making a lot of little things make sense to me."

"What? No, don't pretend you've always thought this." Shawn shakes his head. "This is going too far, okay?"

"I haven't always thought it, but now some things make sense! Like when you told Nigel St Nigel to stop smoking before you did your noticing-things squint at the electric box."

"I just didn't want the man to have holes in his lungs."

"How about you getting on board with your own joke theory with the Frazen case?"

"That was just me being even better than I realized, and the day I vowed to never dismiss my own jokes again."

"Uh-uh." Gus steps back and points at Shawn, making Shawn cross his eyes to watch his hand bob back and forth. "No, I know this is real. Do it again."

"Gus, it doesn't work like that."

"How does it work then?"

"I don't know, man! Sometimes I just get an idea in my head and it plays out! This is kind of insulting, honestly!"

"How?!"

"You're saying all of my hard detective work is just because some spirits told me something!"

"I'm not saying that at all! I know most of it is just you figuring things out, but I think you really do have some psychic abilities! You're always guessing what I'm gonna say like you can read my mind-"

"Because we've known each other our entire lives!"

"-and you always end up being onto something even with your wildest theories-"

"That's called luck-"

"-and you always manage to get us into the right places at the right time to come face-to-face with the bad guy!"

"Those are bad situations, so that would mean the spirits hate me. Do you want a psychic friend who's being lead into death traps by ghosts?"

"Shawn-"

"Gus, I'm being serious about this. I. Am not. Psychic. So drop it."

"Nuh-uh, no way. I'm getting you to believe it."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Really?" Shawn looks at Gus, completely unamused.

"The websites say they work."

"Crystals." Shawn gestures at his desk. "You have covered my entire workspace with crystals. This is getting sad, man."

Gus shrugs. "They're supposed to help open the third eye and hone psychic abilities."

"You sound like a hippie."

"You sound like a guy in denial."

"I'm not doing this." Shawn opens a drawer to shove the crystals into. "Really?! The whole drawer?!"

"All of them. And I put some in the kitchen."

"This is a problem. You, have a problem."

"Yes, and it's name is Shawn."

"What is this- did you sign me up for a meditation class?!"

"This Friday."

"You signed your completely unmedicated ADHD and hyper-observant friend up for a meditation class. I'm going to end up torturing that poor teacher, Gus."

"If you genuinely try at it, I'll buy you a year's supply of corn nuts."

"... A whole year?"

"A whole year."

"One for each day."

"I have the check from our last case set aside just for this."

"Fine. But when I'm still not psychic by the end, you're not allowed to go back on this deal."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fine. ... These crystals are actually kind of cool. Dammit, I might take some home., look at this. This one is shaped like a butt. ... You found the cool ones on purpose, didn't you?"

"One looks like a pineapple."

"Which one- oh, yeah, look at that! This, is delightful. But this, as a whole, is still a problem."

"We'll see."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn sits at his desk, staring at the wall, as Gus does a little victory dance behind him.

"Yes, yes, we are finally in the clear-!"

"Gus." Shawn buries his face in his hands. "Please give me at least one minute to process this? Should I be the one celebrating having actual superpowers?"

"You're not the one who thought we'd get caught!"

"We still might, it-it's barely even actual visions." Shawn looks at the board of their latest case, the one solved in the morning and the one solved in record time, the one solved thanks to a very small detail and a gut feeling.

And the one irrefutably, undoubtedly, solved by a psychic vision.

"It still happened!" Gus continues his dance. "I told you those crystals and classes would show you! What, what?" He fans himself. "What?"

"This is the weirdest turn my life has taken," Shawn mumbles, rubbing his face. "Of all the ways to find out, it had to be a vision like that? It wasn't even cool."

"Cool is getting paid, Shawn, and it made that happen!"

"But a vision of the victim's flu symptoms? That's- Gus, that's just lame."

"Lame? You knew the guy never had clamminess, that was the whole key! He never had clammy hands, so he never lost grip after falling off that balcony, he was pushed. That was the entire closing argument, Shawn, the killer confessed right away!"

"I could've found other evidence." Shawn sits back in his chair, arms crossed. "Something better than 'Oh, he wasn't sweaty!' What kind of wrap-up is that?"

"Shawn, seriously, what's up with you? Why aren't you more excited about this? We're not lying to cops anymore, you've got actual superpowers, and we can probably solve cases twice as fast."

"Because, Gus, how would you feel if you learned you had superpowers your whole life and just never noticed, so now you have to go back and think about everything you've ever done to try and find out what was you just being an awesome genius and what was some kind of metaphysical interference?"

Gus stops his dancing. "What?"

Shawn grinds his jaw.

Gus sits down.

"... Am I even actually a good detective? A good shot? Have good instincts?"

"Yes, you are. We both know you are."

"Do we? We didn't know I can have visions for three whole decades, so-" he laughs, sharp and bitter.

"... Well, I think it all just goes together." Gus picks up a pencil and starts writing down ideas on how to help Shawn hone his newfound skills. "You can have visions and use your detective skills to examine them way more effectively than a psychic without could, and you can recall each one perfectly. All of the website I read talk about how frustrating it is to have a vision that only become relevant weeks later, and by then it's hard to remember. You don't have to deal with that."

"... That is pretty cool, I guess."

"Plus, they say mind-reading is possible once you practice enough, especially with people you're already close to."

"We already know I can do that." Shawn's mood sours again. "We don't know each other so well I can, I just can."

"I think it's both. You've never practiced it, so maybe we've just known each other so long you managed to do it anyway."

"Are you saying... it was the magic of friendship?" Shawn cracks a smile. "That's adorable, man, really."

"You know that's right." Their friendship is adorable, and he's proud of that fact. "Besides, you realize what you can do once you practice having clearer visions?"

"What?"

"Confuse your dad."

Shawn blinks. And then grins. "Gus. You mad genius."

Gus bows a little.

"He'll never know what hit him! Oh, that'll drive him nuts! He'll never be able to figure out how I'm figuring things out!"

"And now when Lassie says you're a fake, you can hit him with real psychic information."

"Holy- Gus! Why didn't you point this out form the beginning?! I would have totally gotten on board! Show me those websites right now, I'm about to psych it uppppp!"

[noemilivv]

Hi I saw the match up event recently but I gotta ask who would be a perfect match for me?

I’m a female and I’m not sure about my sexuality at the moment since I’m a bit confused what gender I am interested in but I don’t mind who it is, as long I’m given love and affection, then I won’t mind who it is.

About me, I’m an ambiverted female since i tend to be very shy at first and a little awkward, since I can’t keep up an conversation but there are times I will try and be social and talk to others while I’m trying not to be embarrassed or anything, but once I open up I’m very talkative and kind, i usually put my friends/family/loved ones first and then me most of the time, I don’t really get upset as often but I know deep inside I know I’m hurt since I tend to bottle everything up in short terms, I tend to mask it all with a bright and kind personality, I don’t know how to say no to others but I’m slowly learning and healing myself, but overall I’m very kind to others who respects my boundaries but overall I’m a kind hearted person, and I’m a very comforting person too, I’m basically an uncertified counselor too and not to mention I’m somewhat motherly to my friends since I always worry about them if they ate or something is wrong with them but I also get insecure most of the time because I feel like I’m not good enough or anything, I’m my friend group, I’m the mom friend who worries about their well-being or giving them mom advice (I’m not a mom because I’m single) but also I’m a hopeless romantic and I’m very delusional at times (kinda like mitsuri in a way😭😭) but I’m not a mean person in general!!

And another thing about me is I’m not very smart in a way since my ADHD and possible dislexia

but as for my style and appearance I’m a bit skinny and chubby with a curvey figure with a few small or medium belly rolls and skin marks too but I like to wear sweaters with zippers and a tight crop top tang too with spaghetti straps or thick ones and playboy bunny sweatpants because I find them comfortable since I have a big butt😭, and I like to wear my moccasins (slippers in indigenous culture, since I’m Canadian) but overall I don’t mind what clothes I’m wearing as long I’m comfortable

My main interest is listening to music that comforts me, I listen to Frank Sinatra or Songs from adventure time like everything stays or drift away from Steven universe since it kinda relates to me in away too, I love drawing and creating things like knitting or painting sunsets or landscapes!

And lastly for my main love languages, they are physically touch and Quality time, I’m very touch starved and quality starved too, I love being hugged a lot or even being near someone makes me happy, and maybe gift giving since I like giving people gifts but I sometimes like receiving gifts because I feel bad that people spend money on me either it’s expensive or not but I do like receiving small things that were crafted!! I like reassurance the most since I feel comforted when I’m sad or feeling lonely but also I have a hard time for asking for help in any situation

Thank you for listening and take your time!!!

heyy, autumn (i think this is you), in any case, i pair you with…

Sir Pentious !!

Pentious is very soothed by your soft yet cheery energy haha it makes him feel at home and at ease and he really craves that in a partner tbh

Although you tend to bottle things up, it makes him very sad, as he’s very open about his feelings with you, and it makes him feel like he did something wrong :(

He will hug you for hours on end if you’d let him. Please let him hug you. He won’t ask, but he really wants it.

[another-lost-mc]

🌌 for all the OCs? (Just sending one emoji since I’m asking for all the OCs 😅)

Weekend Event: OC Emoji Asks

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Karasu: I wanted a LI that had some of the geeky qualities that Levi has without all the self-flagellation and pity parties. also the lowkey incel vibes he sometimes gives off I thought that there must be demons comfortable developing/using computers if they have the D.D.D. and AI, and then I remembered the KARASU AI, and it kind of occured to me—what if I make Karasu actually a crow demon and not just a mascot? That's basically how that started. His physical appearance was meant to incorporate some more monstrous qualities to help set him apart even more.

Azra: The Fall is a popular backdrop for a lot of the game's parties/dances and events. I was mostly inspired by this Lucifer Devilgram to flesh him out as an antagonist-type character that the demon brothers could butt heads with over MC.

In the Devilgram, Lucifer obviously wins that wager and he goes on to say that basically it bothered him letting other demons have a chance to live with MC and spend time with them like that. In Azra's AU, Lucifer loses the bet which is how Azra ends up living at HoL for a month. (My original headcanon for Azra's appearance was basically Sukuna from JJK, but I changed that when I got the nerve to share his story online. lol)

Zekhan: He's closely linked to Azra so their own stories have some overlap. They're bonded very much like brothers would be, even though they're not related by blood. Zekhan is quiet and serious and collected whereas Azra can be spontenous and sociable and an "act now, think later" type. He's not the kind of demon that creates or likes chaos—he sticks to himself but he's very intelligent and strong and loyal. His character is sort of a blend of Barbatos' quiet confidence and leadership and Satan's intelligence and interests.

Metatron: I wanted an angel OC because I didn't have one and originally, I needed a very friendly angel for Michael to be jealous of. lol Metatron is very curious about humans and I think he craves intimacy but doesn't know how to find it. He hides a lot of his "shameful" desires and self-doubt behind a bubbly and out-going personality. I think he's sort of like a mix of Arcturus (ArTw) and Asmo. He's seen as being cute but not handsome, and he's often described as naive and flirty even though he doesn't mean to be. He has a lot of responsibilities in the Celestial Realm and he's very familiar with bloody history of the three realms, but he has no close friends or loved ones he feels he can turn to when he craves more from his calling.

Dia's unnamed older brother: I'm adding him here since I was thinking about him today. He ticks the monster fucker kink because the game's canon characters are lacking in truly monstrous demonic forms. He's a bit bigger and taller than Diavolo is and is very gruff and not too sociable. His AU reads like a Devildom version of Beauty and the Beast.

[erithel]

Klancers who hate canon lance are so weird and I don’t know why they’re even here. I feel like they just saw allurance, hated it, and projected all their hatred onto him. I saw a klancer say they hate him bc he’s canonly an unempathetic and self centered jerk. Unempathetic?? Lance who stuck up for the Blade of Mamora in canon, the one who everyone looked to give Keith the feelings talk, stuck by Pidge about her dad, and the only character to call out Lotor for not freeing the planets he colonized? That lacking empathy character? And self centered when he was willingly to give up Red and Blue to Allura and Keith? Ready to give up his desire to pilot black to encourage keith to take the role? That self centered selfish asshole?

Canon and fanon Lance gets treated badly by the very fandom who ships hims with keith sometimes and we need to talk about this.

Is...is that a thing? Why would someone like a ship that included a character they hated? I’m actually asking, here, because I’ve never come across someone who ships klance who dislikes either one of them. It’s always the opposite in my experience, where they really enjoy finding good and bad qualities in both characters to make them more relatable and human.

I know that people can ship whoever they want, for whatever reasons they want, but I just feel that if someone actively dislikes Lance then maaaaaybe they should find a ship that they actually enjoy?

But okay... if we wanna talk about how empathetic Lance is...he is. 

The impression I got of him is that he is very aware and sensitive to how others are feeling around him (aka empathetic).  Honestly the only character he is unwarrantedly, legitimately mean to is himself.

And okay, it’s been a while since I dug deep on a post, so here we go.

Lance was the youngest of his siblings (I believe that is actually canon in the paladin handbooks?). Being the youngest, he would have wanted to stand out, which is the most likely reason why he is loud and abrasive, and butts into conversations in an antagonistic way at times. This doesn’t make him self-centered, it just means he has learned that in order to be heard, he has to make himself heard.

The most relatable thing about Lance in my opinion, is how basically all of his behavior can be explained by how others have lead him to believe he is stupid. (This honestly hits on a very personal note for me so it’s something I noticed in Lance quickly.)

He notices everyone around him, and he wants to stand out from the bunch - but he believes he can’t do it with his own intelligence so he finds other ways to stand out. He makes sure others know he is there, even if it means he is the butt of the joke.

It’s easier for him to cope with feeling stupid if he is in control of the narrative.

This, again, doesn’t make him a self centered jerk, it just makes him desperate for a place among his peers, while battling the feeling that he doesn’t deserve that place.

Because emotions are complicated.

The instance where he stood up for the Blade of Marmora is possibly the best example of empathy and lack of self-centeredness.

Lance noticed the scene playing out. He noticed the disdainful looks the Galra were getting and he put himself in their shoes, because he knows what it feels like to be looked down on and he doesn’t want that for anyone else when they don’t deserve it. So the minute something even remotely negative was said toward the Blade, he jumped in and made sure everyone knew that he, a paladin of Voltron, was recognizing and acknowledging the Blade members for their assistance. 

If he had been a self-centered person, he would have taken all the praise for himself and not thought twice about it. If he had been an unempathetic person, he wouldn’t have even noticed the way others were treating the Blade members.

In my opinion, Lance is the most selfless and empathetic character of all of them.

And one of my favorite tropes with klance is having Keith recognize this; having Keith understand how much Lance contributed to the team just by being himself and being there for others. 

That’s the kind of potential that makes klance a good ship to me, and if people are ignoring those traits in Lance then what’s the point of shipping them?

[castlebyersafterdark]

someone tell me why charlie said cause my second hand embarassment won’t allow me to watch con footage and no one will tell meeee

i got you both, my babies. argyles actor is so funny that all awkwardness is removed from his cons. so i'll paraphrase mostly:

someone asks what do you rate will out of 10?

eduardo answers 'out of what criteria? his haircut? (noah rolls his eyes and laughs) his style?' (charlie and noah laugh because the idea of will being a style icon is clearly hilarious in a wider context lmaooo)

girl says 'yeah his style' to which charlie is in disbelief. also eduardo just making this shit so funny cos he's so deadpan.

e: i dont know, i don't think i'd be one to talk about style (everyone laughs). look how i'm dressed, man.

charlie looks to noah and says 'really tight pants' (then repeats it laughing) as noah says 'my butt is like huge in them, they were so small' and he includes some lovely gestures lmaooo

and charlie says 'they are insanely tight'

basically everything they said was a variation on this, i cant hear everything but it would just something that means this haha

then noah says to eduardo 'but i wanna hear [what you think]... 1/10?'

charlie is still saying 'his style?!' hahhaahha

and eduardo is saying he has no idea how to judge will's style as he does not consider himself stylish. and charlie asks noah what noah's fav quality of will's is, and noah says he thinks will is such a loyal person. eduardo says 'hell yeah thats true'

Ooooooh lovely, thank you so much for taking the effort to translate/transpose for our awkward / anxious / can't hear shit people hahaha ❤️❤️❤️ This is so funny and odd, these panels are so bizarre! But I love that it spawned pants discussion. So valid.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

I cannot even describe how much I hate my school.

I hate their policies, their staff- I hate the institution as a whole.

Rant below:

It's a for profit (read: expensive) school that does not deliver anything that is up to par with the price.

The ultrasound lab is tiny, with only 6 ultrasound machines. Two machines are pretty good, one is fine, and the rest are fucking abysmal. They are what is referred to as "non diagnostic", meaning that you'd never use them to scan a patient. The image quality is so low it's like staring at TV static. But I was forced to take my competency (scanning test) on the worst machine in the lab. It was so awful that by the end, I felt like I couldn't see anything because I'd basically been staring at TV static for 45 minutes straight. My teacher even said that the machine sucks and that when you turn the gain (the brightness) up, it only makes the image more fuzzy. But yeah, I was forced to use it on my competency. And I was the only one who had to use that machine! I haven't gotten my grade back yet but I know it will be awful. And if I fail, I will have to do remediation with my teacher where we go over my images and he tells me what's wrong with them. I can already tell you what's wrong with them- the machine is a piece of shit. Also if I fail, I will have to retake it, but I am only allowed a grade of 75. I'm not the type of person to blame my short comings or failures on things outside of myself, but come on...

And when I spoke to my teacher about it after class (privately) he brushed me off. He told me he wouldn’t penalize me for the fuzzy, subpar, low quality images- but that was only half the point. I was trying to communicate to him that the issue was the machine quality + my eyes being completely fried by the tv static appearance + the horrible quality nearly threw me into a panic attack + I was the only one who had to use that machine. But he didn’t listen. And I know that he won’t take what I said (what little I was able to say before he interrupted) into account.

And the rules... oh my god. Your attendance and professionalism are rolled into one grade that is referred to as your "professionalism grade". You can get points deducted for missing class, being late, not having your textbooks, etc. And I have to laugh. Like, I went to an actual university before attending this two year program, and The fucking University of Texas as Austin did not deduct points if a student doesn't have a textbook one day. It's like we're in middle school.

Plus, this whole attendance / professionalism thing is bullshit. They said at the start of the program that if you have to miss class because of an extenuating circumstance, they will understand. But they do not understand. There is zero understanding. My classmate's brother was just murdered. Brutally murdered. She missed class yesterday to attend his memorial, and they gave her a zero for her professionalism. You're telling me that the murder of her brother isn't an extenuating circumstance?

The school as a whole has no empathy or understanding for their students.

One of my teachers also constantly eavesdrops and polices our conversations. Even when we're talking quietly in a small group during break time, she butts in. She makes judgmental comments and has to lecture us at least once a week about how we don't have it that bad. She's one of those "if it was bad for me, it should be bad for you" kind of teachers. She's always like "well when I was in school I was a full time student and working full time and doing clinical full time and I was a full time wife and a full time mother" and I just simply DO. NOT. CARE. She just wants to invalidate us and what we're going through. And she does it at every turn. She's actually done the whole "oh, let me play a song for you on the worlds tiniest violin" bit and she thinks it's sOoOoOo funny. She told a classmate of mine that he "isn't allowed" to say that he's tired when he only got 5 hours of sleep, because she "only ever gets about 2 hours of sleep"- and she says it like it's a flex. Maam, you're gonna be dead and buried at 50 if you dont sleep. Thats not something to brag about. And not sleeping is not going to help us succeed with our academics. This teacher has told us to not sleep and to skip meals in order to study- but doing those things will only make retaining the information harder.

Plus, the teachers know how fucking stressed we are and they don't care. They know the program is really hard in regard to subject matter, but they make it even worse because they are horrible when it comes to scheduling and communication. First semester, we were told we would never have a test the week before finals because it's not fair. But second and third semester, my teacher has casually added another test the week before finals as though it's not a big deal. They're constantly adding and changing test/ quiz dates- and it's never in out favor. Plus, our two teachers always make it so that we have tests / quizzes back to back. We have class Monday through Thursday, but they always choose to put their tests /quizzes on Monday and Tuesday.

Generally speaking, it feels like sabotage after sabotage after sabotage. It feels like they are setting us up to fail. I'm dreading my competency grade. I'm dreading the next two semesters. I'm so miserable.

[sleepsonfutons]

20 questions for fic writers!

Ope it's double tag time >:D thanks @spockandthings & @bazzybelle for the tags~

This one's got length to it so get the scoop under the cut lol

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Shoot, how many do I have... let's see now... ooooh, that'd be 18!!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

Eyyyy 104,261 since I started posting last year :3

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Sandman and The Witcher, though mostly Sandman so far lol

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

hmmmm, those would be...

In Awe, I Stand -> 370 kudos

Dream of the Dark -> 226 kudos

My Comfort. Your Touch. -> 216 kudos

Every Inch of Me -> 161 kudos

Starlight, Star-Bright -> 139 kudos

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do my best to, yes indeed! That doesn't always means it happens though cuz life and energy and honestly attention-span...but I read every single comment I get and cherish them. They are bright spots in my day and I like to share the joy I've been gifted with the person who gave it when I'm able 💖

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ohoho that's gotta be Don't Ask Me To Say Goodbye!! I have Plans for that AU, but as it currently stands it's angst-central with only heartbreak~

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings I wanna say, but happiest has got to be a toss-up between Starlight, Star-Bright and My Comfort. Your Touch. They're both super soft, self-indulgent delights :3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

*knocks on wood* nah

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do [hellmo.gif] How do you feel about potatoes? (but also like relatively "normal" stuff: butt stuff, mouth stuff, touching stuff, eldritch stuff, basically a variety of different stuff >;3 LOL)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not so far, though I'd not be opposed to writing one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

*knocks on wood again* not that I know of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope, but open invite to anyone who might want to! Just give me a shout when you're done cuz I'd love to see~

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

HECK YE!!!! @phinofthestorm is outstanding and I literally can't say enough nice things about writing with her! The amount of time we've spent on the same brainwave with our collab fic As a Stranger I Know Myself has been mindblowing and fantastic!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Honestly, I'll never get over GrimmIchi (Bleach) I don't think lol. The nostalgia factor is unbeatable at this point.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Truss Me Up But Never Leave Me Hanging probably fits the bill best, much to my chagrin. It was meant to be a canon-verse Dreamling shibari fic, but *vague handwaving* I wound up getting in my head over whether I could write it to the level of accuracy/quality I feel it deserves

16. What are your writing strengths?

Setting the scene? aka "purple prose" and metaphors

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Concise, "non-flowery" writing in general and dialogue

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I mean if it makes sense, idk why not. Only caveat to that is if it's not a language you speak yourself, definitely get someone who does speak that language to proof it!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The Witcher with the bday fic I wrote for my bestie: Where You Least Expect It

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Dang, twist my arm why don't'cha... Sheesh favorite fic I've written... I love 'em all honestly, but I reckon Along the Garden Path, We Meet. It's just a short little thing though Dream being a lil shit to Hob early on, before even their first centennial meeting in 1489, absolutely sends me every time.

Woooo we made it to the end! Now to torment tag to join the fun with 0-whole pressure @seiya-starsniper @phinofthestorm @mentallyinvernation @certifiedbisexualdisaster @blueberrymffn @gabessquishytum @delta-pavonis @aquabluejay

[homeofhousechickens]

Could you tell us your opinion on pekin bantams? Just from an image since I'm guessing you likely haven't seen one irl. Not to assume, theyre just a British breed is all. But I love them they are so round I want to know what you think (the tumblr indoor chicken master)

You are correct as an American we really dont have many Pekin bantams here but i do know a lot about them as they are common house chicken breed. They also come in one of my favorite chicken colors which is Bobtail.

They are kind of similar to cochins besides the fact that they are true bantams and supposedly unrelated despite people outcrossing to cochins lol this is actually a huge debate in the poultry world. Some people consider bantam cochins and pekins to be the same breed.

They are VERY susceptible to predators and can have pretty extreme foot feathering, their short and tilted posture also makes it hard for these birds to keep themselves clean. Mud, rain, snow, the moment a high quality pekin is exposed to these their feathers can get matted and disgusting very easily.

That being said they are known for being very docile so in the UK and other places they are a common choice for people looking to have a house chicken as they are not as rambunctious as other breeds. Personally i do not like their extreme foot feathering as it can cause discomfort and pain especially as the bird ages but i have seen some online with more moderate foot feather like my brahma bantam Beeper. They are primarily an ornamental breed and ornamental breeds are going to require more careful management then utility breeds.

Hens can be very broody and Roosters can be "protective" the problem with very fluffy breeds like this is without vent trimming it can be hard for the rooster to fertilize eggs which means the roosters who are the most aggressive maters are the ones who pass on those more aggressive genes. This can be an issue if you believe the roosters will be completely docile.

You see this problem in silkies, wyandottes, cochins, and even orpingtons, basically any fluffy butt breed. Its important for breeders to only use docile roosters and avoid breeding pens with multiple roosters with no vent trimming. Its not really a problem you see in carefully bred birds but its always important to mention because it can be a problem with hatchery birds.

Also i am not a master! I am just a blogger!