#EVEN IF I DID NOT FEEL LIKE SHIT. AND I VERY MUCH DO. I STILL WOULD NOT LIKE MY BODY SUDDENLY CHANGING ON ME LIKE THAT.

[omgfloofy]

Let's just answer the whole damn list.

1: How many fics have you worked on since January?

I've got the ever present dal segno al coda that I've always been working on this year. However, in May, I came up with the concepts that turned into The Insurgent King and this has kind of taken over EVERYTHING in my mind.

I also got a couple of Ys fics out, a pretty dark story for Van Arkride, and a couple of one shot stories for FFXV.

2: What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

👏 MAFIA 👏 ADJACENT 👏

Insurgent King has been SO MUCH FUN because it's really delving a lot into the dark underbelly of stuff. I also got to use my AP style from Endless History in a fic with The King's Interview in that series.

But in general, writing has been amazingly therapeutic for me. It was something I started after my mom's death in 2022 as a bit of personal therapy. I think having time to be in make believe worlds writing fantasy and adventure when it sometimes feels like my world is falling apart has helped me more than you can believe.

Additionally, an upcoming story that I've been planning for Insurgent King is straight up a heist story, ala Oceans 11 and so forth. I've never done something like this before and it has been the craziest thing I've had to plan. And it's the one story that doesn't have a shit ton of stuff already written for it, since the heist needs to be so carefully put together.

I'm SO excited for that story to finally get released. I can't wait for people to read it because it's been so much fun to plan.

3: What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

Final Fantasy XV seems to be the game to keep on giving me a lot of inspiration for ideas. However, I've been finding inspiration for my stories in so many things all over the place.

Trails Through Daybreak has served as much of a supportive 'vibe check' for Insurgent King, as an example. Watching through Tower of God's S2 anime has reminded me of how COOL that comic is and since I've started writing, I've started finding a whole new appreciation for fiction and other stories all over the place. The biggest influence this year, though, has been from old TV shows ala Lost and Stargate, both of which have been an immense inspiration for the storytelling method behind Insurgent King. Look at it like a serialized TV series and the way I'm writing it will probably make a lot more sense.

4: How many fandoms did you write for this year?

For things published, three: Final Fantasy XV, Ys, and Trails.

For things that are still in my WIPs bin? Lost Universe, No Man's Sky, and Helldivers.

5: What ships captured your heart?

I adore Lunoct - but I fully understand that my bias comes from working on dal segno al coda, which is kind of my baby. I can't wait to start releasing it, because Noctis and Lunafreya are the quintessential power couple in it, and fate does not want them together because of the shit they can do when united in it.

6: What characters captured your heart?

I know this was from something I released last year, but it was at the very end of the year, and it still carried over through this year: Anemona from Ys IX. I would not have written anything for her if it wasn't for the Yuletide exchange.

I've also found myself loving the hell out of writing Gladio in my FFXV fics. He's started to become one of the easiest characters for me to write, even.

Also, writing in the point of view of Regis in The King's Gambit. I want to write something that's far more enjoyable for him than the ball of anxiety he was in that fic. Shit was going poorly and he had to change everything to make it go less poorly in that story. I just want something with him being happy.

7: Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

I hadn't written/released anything for the Trails series, strangely enough, until I wrote Cannot Deny His Sleepless Eyes. I have another fic that I've been dabbling with that's Trails from Zero/Trails to Azure, but I'm not far enough to really call anything for it.

8: What fic meant the most to you to write?

The Cordelia Manifest.

This was the first fic of the Insurgent King series. Think of it like the pilot for a TV series. I wrote it based on vibes I got while listening to music from Bubblegum Crisis. While doing so, I realized that I love this setting a LOT and really needed to delve into it more and explain out how Insomnia fell and Noctis became a king of the criminal underworld in it.

9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

Lost and Found.

This was my fic in the FFXV Remix event that happened earlier this year. I had so much fun reading a fic called The new guy by MiraNjell and chose it for my remix fic.

A lot of this was pulled from my own personal experiences from getting a new puppy this year.

10: What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

The Insurgent King.

In this case, not the series, but the fic named for the series. This is my longest published fic on AO3, and I felt so proud of actually getting it done.

11: What fic was the most difficult to write?

ad astra is one of my FFXV wips. I've come and go with it several times, but since it delves very hard into concepts that are "beyond human understanding" and kind of delves a bit into cosmic horror… it's easily one of the most difficult projects ahead of me. I want to read more cosmic/eldritch horror before I try to write more of it, and I really want to become a much better writer to do this concept justice.

With what I released, it would be Cannot Deny His Sleepless Eyes. I've never written whump before and this was somewhat uncomfortable as it has a lot of heavily implied child abuse. It's only 400'ish words, but I didn't want to expand on it any further.

12: What fic was the easiest to write?

Infiltration! I just sat on the ending for ages, and then decided "boom" and knocked that shit out in a couple of hours. A lot of Noctis and Prompto's interactions remind me very much of the same kind of 'two friends who lose all brain cells when together' friendship that I have with my best friend.

In fact, the "be quiet" aspect of Infiltration was actually based on a real bet with my best friend from years and years ago.

13: What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

Shortest: Cannot Deny His Sleepless Eyes - 414 words

Longest: The Insurgent King (story, not series.) - 62,638

14: What were your go-to writing songs?

I made a whole ass playlist for Insurgent King.

15: What was the hardest fic to title?

Filed Away. I still am not 100% happy with the title.

16: What's your favorite title of the year?

There's an upcoming story in my Insurgent King series called A Field of Flowers. I love everything about this title. I can't wait for people to see just why it's an amazing title, too.

17: Share your favorite opening line

Ring ring. Ring ring. Ring ring. Click. "Fisherman's Lighthouse." "Good… [afternoon], this is an automated call from Concordo Shipping. Your freight parcel has been scanned in at… [Pier Lots Warehouse] and will be ready for pick up in… [forty-eight hours]. Failure to pick up your parcel… [one week] after its release will see that your parcel is forfe–" Click.

The above is the opening from Observator, one of the side stories in Insurgent King. I love it because I think you can hear the automated voice on the line.

18: Share your favorite ending line

Voices echoed through Regis' quickly fading consciousness. He saw the flash of blue, glimmering magic in front of him. He couldn't make out the words from the woman's voice — it sounded as if he was under water. He had no time. He held his left hand up to her. He needed the ring to be noticed immediately. "Take it." His strength faded fast. "Take it to…" But Regis Lucis Caelum never got out that last word before he died on the steps of the Citadel.

The above is the ending (before the super short epilogue) of The King's Gambit, the third story of the Insurgent King series. Regis' death is a catalyst to everything in the series, and I wanted the story that was in his POV to end abruptly as he died. There would be no more 'voice' for the POV any longer, afterall.

19: Share your favorite piece of dialogue

"It's not home." Noct said as he crossed the room and started to poke through the bag. It's dinner, but instead of commenting on the food, he mused out loud, "I'm surprised, though. Ignis is usually super critical when I'm too lax about hiding my identity." "You could make it easier and introduce me to them as your cousin Gladio Gar." "No." Noct stopped, then looked up. He sounded a lot sharper than he initially intended, but continued with it, "Don't. That's my thing." Gladio leaned back with a smug grin. The chair groaned in protest at the large man's weight from the action. "Yeah, I know." He paused for a second, just for the timing of it. "It shouldn't be." "I have a good cover here." Noct mumbled as he dropped into his own chair and opened the box to look through the food. It was a burger — he was surprised it wasn't Cup Noodles. "It's about as great as a baseball cap." "It works!" Noct grabbed a fry out of the box and threw it at Gladio. He laughed as it only bounced harmlessly off his head.

The above is from A Part to Play, one of my Twilight extra stories that's still in WIP format. I have to be extremely careful with this one because it has some very technical stuff to describe and I need to take my time. It should be out soon, though.

19: Share your funniest line

This time, the roles were switched. Luna took hold of Noctis' wrist and walked ahead to lead him, instead. "What's the worst he could do to us?" "To you." Noctis didn't fight being pulled along. "He wouldn't do anything to you." A beat. "He'd just kick my ass in our next training session." "If he's kicking your ass," It was so weird to hear Luna repeat his own words. She always knew what to say and the perfect way to say it, when Noctis felt he fell short in that skillset. Luna quickly glanced back to say, "Then you just need to…" She paused, as she seemed to search for the words, then continued, "get good and show him what for." Noctis thought, at first, that he must have not heard her right. The words and Luna's voice just didn't sound right together. After running that over in his head again, he finally laughed. "I'm sorry. Who are you and what did you do with Lunafreya?"

This is from Date Night, my little 'preview fic' for Noctis and Lunafreya in dal segno al coda.

This fic is a single night of events that just didn't fit in the full narrative of the main story and is Noctis and Lunafreya having an evening out together in Insomnia. (takes place during part 2)

I really have a lot of fun with Noct and Luna in segno. I know I said it before, but I'll say it again: I really can't wait to get comfortable enough to start posting it, because I want people to really have fun with what the two are capable of in that story.

As I said before, they are very much a power couple in dal segno al coda, except there are points here and there when Noctis and Lunafreya just have the chance to be the people they could never otherwise be.

20: What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I would go as far as to say that the sudden idea behind Solus popping into my head was a big surprise. It doesn't change the overall story of the Insurgent King, but it does add more to it, I feel.

There's also a contender for biggest 'surprise' that came about from writing part 2 of segno. This wasn't this year - I think I wrote the scene last year, even - but I'm still trying to contend with it. I feel like I have to fight over 'how far is too far' with the idea.

It changed a LOT of segno and triggered a lot of rewrites, as well. However, it was very much a case of 'Lunafreya wants what she wants, and it's not necessarily what the author originally wanted.' LOL

21: What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

I started using Google Drive, but I was introduced to Ellipsus this year and I love it so much. So I've started migrating my works to it.

While it's not the main parts of the story themselves, I have a plnner for dal segno al coda, that I use to keep track of dates in it and what happens around said dates.

I also have been carrying a tiny composition book in my purse to use when I get ideas while away from home.

22: If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

I would actually put that towards The King's Interview and when I looked at the finished product on AO3. Not so much the writing part of it, but the design work and workskin editing. Since I have a web development background, I really love playing with AO3 workskins and think they can be a very powerful tool in storytelling.

That header image was made from two different stock images, and intended to illustrate the interview, as you would see on a news site or newspaper.

I also did something like it for the Epilogue for The King's Gambit. I made a faux newspaper front page in InDesign, complete with making a believable printed halftone look of the front of the Citadel. There's so much more of that layout than what I showed.

I've also got a story that's doing something like this further down the line in segno - so I may have just lifted that idea from there. segno's 'front page' is a little more complete than this one, however. Complete with extra fake headlines and snippets of other articles and stuff.

23: Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

Not necessarily. I think the only real time to celebrate finishing one would be when I finished The Insurgent King - the story, not the series it's named after. This is probably due to the nature of the series, though, since I was immediately in my files and making notes of where to go with the next story and what had to be revealed in it (as well as what I can't reveal yet).

24: How did you recharge between fics?

I might just pull up a game and play a bit. Nothing too fancy.

25: Did you create fanworks other than fic?

Not really, no.

26: How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

Just one, really. It was the @ffxvremix. I wrote Lost and Found for it.

27: If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

I'd thank, of course, @firefallvaruna for being my amazing beta reader. I'd also thank @snifftheraven. He's been the best sounding board for a lot of my ideas. He's also super honest and tells me when my ideas are too much, or if I have gone down a path that I probably wouldn't want to take.

28: What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Sadly, my to-do list included getting part 1 of segno done. Then I got sideswiped by a whole new AU called The Insurgent King. Which is on point for that AU's version of Noctis.

I might celebrate the end of the year by working on segno a bit more and maybe pushing that 75-80% completion a little closer to 100%.

29: What would you like to write next year?

Getting segno's part 1 done and started to AO3 is definitely on my planned list for next year. I'm also continuing onward into Insurgent King.

I know the ending to both series. I should be able to make it.

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One

A large part of the Steve Harrington lore was that he left his throne, his popularity, childhood best friends behind--for Nancy Wheeler. 

This was a lie. 

It wasn’t even one he encouraged--and Steve had done some damage control in the aftermath of that whole thing with the tunnels. 

He volunteered, dropped hints to the right crowd. 

It took time, but eventually, his insistence that he’d changed, left his old crew behind to become a better version of himself, began to stick.

Or at least it did with the people who mattered.  

It took Starcourt for him to realize that wasn’t really the truth either. 

Steve did want to be a better person. He was working actively on being a better person. 

But…

(But he still heard screams from a bus in the junkyard when he slept. Felt fear lick down his spine as he charged in, knowing he was the only thing standing between three dumb kids and a painful, shitty death. 

But he still heard Dustin, full of conviction, tell his friends that Steve was the only person he could find. 

But now he had a “bad” shoulder, a “twinge” in his ribs, and a head that was plagued by migraines, all of which made him look in the mirror and ask himself “What if I hadn’t gone with them?) 

…you couldn’t be there for someone, couldn’t protect someone, if you were too busy playing high school bullies with your friends. 

Robin would likely argue these were simply the reasons he wanted to be a better person, but Robin now ranked as one of Steve’s top 10 personal regrets--even if he was pretty sure they’d become best friends.

Because Steve was the oldest. He’d graduated high school for fucks sake, he should have shut Dustin down the second he realized what was happening was legitimate. 

He absolutely should not have let Robin get involved and Erica--

He can’t even really think about Erica, no matter how much Erica herself argues elsewise. 

At the very least, Steve can admit to himself he protected them in the end. 

Got beat to shit and had to fake his death alongside Hopper to do it, but they all got out. 

Alive.

Unscathed.

Hopefully to put this whole fucking thing past them once Owens finished cleaning house in the government. 

Unfortunately life--and Eddie fucking Munson--was not ready to put anything to rest. 

Munson in fact, seemed hellbent on disturbing what he could--and Steve, wholly haunted by the fact the kids always came to him, couldn’t let him do it alone.

At least, he thought with grim distaste, as he followed Munson’s weaving path to the ruins of Starcout,  he was getting his car out of it. 

xXx

Uncanny valley doesn’t do Steve’s feelings justice. 

Starcourt was laid out in a giant L, and coming at it from the outer edges like he and Munson did means everything looks disturbingly normal. 

Off putting, if only because it’s 10 in the morning and not a soul is in the mall, but otherwise? 

Like nothing ever went wrong.

As they move closer to the center, things begin to unravel. 

It’s not noticeable at first. Not unless you’re looking. The litter on the floor, the little piles of weird looking debris. 

The stains.

Nothing that outwardly screams “something horrible happened here” but it's coming--and though Munson is creeping along just as quietly as Steve is, he knows the guy isn’t on edge in the same way. 

Why would he be? Nothing Steve said had managed to deter him, and given Steve can’t exactly explain what happened or why he’s playing possum, Munson was plenty confident about going forward with his little B&E. 

At least not until they finally turn the corner, and the destruction hits them full force. 

Glass and chunks of plaster cover the ground like confetti. Lights hang sideways or lay smashed on the floor, as do pieces of doors (and railings and half of the entire upper floor.) 

The place looks like something out of a disaster film--which Steve supposes, is exactly what it is. 

If the disaster was supernatural in nature, and also caused by a giant monster made out of the melted flesh. 

(God, his life was weird.)

“What the hell happened here?” Eddie said, eyes wide as he took in the damage. 

Steve tried to imagine what it must look like for him. Looked at the scene and tried to pretend he was someone who wasn’t in the know, who thought the mall had been destroyed by a fire and subsequent structural collapse.

Could almost convince himself one could buy it--if it weren’t for the smears of blood that still stained the floor. 

He stared at said smears, trying to match up which puddle was the one Billy died in, in comparison to all the other stains that the feds hadn’t bothered to remove. 

Recalled the way Max screamed, fighting her way towards her step-brother when he finally fell.

The yell Billy himself had let out, when he’d managed to shake off the Mindflayer, long enough to give El the time she needed. 

Steve hadn’t really thought about it until now. 

Billy’s death.

 Hadn’t really had time too, given Owens had pulled him and a handful of others out of the ambulance and forced them into hiding.

(From the fucking Russians still hanging around, apparently, though that had been Owens flimsy excuse. Murray and Hopper and long guessed it was something far closer to home. 

“You ever think about how weird that was? That Russians made it to Hawkins and no one ever noticed?” Hopper had asked, a beer in the same hand that had an IV sticking out of the back of it. “Given the lab was right across town you think they’d be watching for that kinda thing.” 

“Please Jim, I am begging you, for once, to use your head. They didn’t get here without assistance and they certainly didn’t do it without help from our own government.” Murray had scoffed in return. 

He held two lit cigarettes in his hand, and was reaching for a third.

“Why the hell would the US military let in Russians?"

“An excellent question, and I’ll return it with one of my own. If we assume we are being lied too, and all the Russians are actually gone, why would Owens still need to hide us?"

“...Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed.”)

Now, Steve found he had all the time in the world to contemplate Billy Hargrove and his mostly unnoticed possession. His supposed sacrifice. 

 Had it redeemed him, the way movies and TV shows always said that kind of death, did? 

Steve imagined the sneered grin on Billy’s face that night at the Byers. Felt phantom knuckles brush across his face, the fury that had ignited within him when Billy hadn’t gone for him, but for Lucas.

Compared it to his own fight with Jonathan in ‘82. 

The words he’d allowed Tommy to spray upon the theater sign regarding his own girlfriend. The camera he’d destroyed. 

The demogorgon in the Byers house, lights flashing as it tore through the wall. 

If things had been different, if Steve hadn’t survived back then--would people wonder the same things about him? Would they ask themselves if his sacrifice was worth it--if it proved he was a good person, under it all? 

“Harrington?” 

Steve jumped, startling when Munson nudged him. 

“You good, man?” He asked, and Steve almost laughed at him because no, he definitely was not good. 

He can’t say that though, and so he does what he always does. Shoves the thoughts down, puts the feelings back inside a box in his mind. 

Lies. 

“Yeah--fine.” He said, brushing off his staring. “Come on, Scoops is that way.” 

He gestures, ignoring the concerned look that’s overtaken Munson’s face. 

Panicking he knows, will not get his keys back, and neither will it help him learn what idiot is poking around the Upside Down this time. 

Because for all of Murray's conspiracies, he doesn’t actually think the feds are Munson’s benefactor. Owens had been inclined to agree, when Steve first reported this entire situation back. 

It’s definitely not his parents, who are conveniently overseas in London. 

That leaves very little options, including a disturbing possibility of a new player to the game, and given all the green goo Steve had seen, the way they all know it does--something, to help power the gate... 

It’d be nice to get ahead of things for once, instead of scrambling to catch up. 

(Screw Hopper and Owens and everyone who told Steve to stay out of it.

He knew damn well Munson wouldn’t listen to his warnings. 

Wouldn’t back off and definitely wouldn’t leave it alone.

Hopper’s half-delirious (and morphine fueled) rants about this finally being a wakeup call for Munson if he didn’t listen wasn’t going to make up for the blood on Steve's hands if the guy went in there without him and died. ) 

Walking through Scoop's is almost more unnerving than walking through the mall itself. Likely because Steve spent time here, and seeing it in it's destroyed state--lights off, ice cream melted and fouling the air with the a rancid stench do him no favors.

The You Suck board is laying haphazardly on the floor.

Steve forces himself to walk by it, and breathes only through his mouth.

“Your locker, my liege!” Munson crows as they enter the back part of Scoop’s, throwing out an arm at it like he’s presenting a game show prize. “Shall we see if the treasure we seek is behind door number one?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but remains quiet as he steps up and enters his combination. 

It swings open as easily as it ever had, and there, hanging from the crooked hook, is the car keys Steve is so desperately after. 

Munson throws his hands in the air, like Steve’s just shot the winning basket of a game. 

“Score!” He yells, and Steve grins reflexively even as he shushes him. 

“Now," Munson says dramatically, "the hunt begins for our second prize.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“I told you I don’t have a class ring.” 

“And yet they have me searching for one anyway.” Like a hound zeroing in on a trail, he immediately orients to the back of Scoop’s, waltzing through to the backrooms like this was everyday for him.

Given his confusing and handwaved excuse of how he got involved in this, Steve suppose it could be. 

(He had decided, sometime between the first and fifth time he’d tried to get Eddie to explain how, exactly he’d been roped into this little mission, that the man could never meet Dustin.

Henderson was already too good at steamrolling over Steve, explaining nothing other than the facts that would force them all to do what the little shit wanted, all the while leading them further into trouble.

He didn’t need to befriend someone like Munson, whose mastery of the same bullshit had him doing, well.

This.) 

To the end of the hall Eddie skipped, and Steve kept his eyes on his jacket. Some sort of demon thing was posed on the back, a shirt that had been ripped up and resewn to be a backpatch. 

It was better than looking at anything else back here.

It took them no time at all to reach their destination. 

The door down had a shiny new lock on it. A big thing, with chains so thick Steve briefly wondered if they were worried about containment. 

Had they pulled something through the gate, before it had exploded?

The base was large--larger than Steve had seen, and he'd passed room after room when running around down there.

No one had the time to explore, and one would assume any and all monsters had been removed from the premise but there was always that little tickling feeling.

The one that chanted 'What if...'

Unfortunately, the lock did nothing to detour this little jaunt. 

Munson dropped to his knees in front of a door, hair pin in hand. He fiddled with the lock for a moment and Steve took it to visualize how different things might have been if the older teen had been there with them. 

How much easier some of it would have been. 

(Not that Steve wanted to involve anyone else in this mess.

He'd carry the guilt of dragging Erica and Robin both into it for the rest of his life, not matter what either had to say about the matter. Dustin he knew he couldn't stop, but then, Steve doubted they'd have even made it that far without the girls.)

A click sounded, and Eddie looked up, eyes bright with a wild grin on his face. 

“Open sesame.” He purred as he stood, the door opening under his hands. He pushed on it, revealing the dark gaping maw of a stairwell.

Dread hit Steve like a wave.

“We shouldn’t go down there.” He said.

They had already had this conversation, but Steve felt the overwhelming urge to revisit it on grounds that he still isn’t sure how exactly, Munson got him to agree to come in the first place, and also, now that he was thinking of it, because the guy reminded him of Dustin.

“We shouldn’t be here at all.” Munson countered, springing back to his feet. “But some of us need this little thing called money.”

He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, as if Steve needed the extra visual.

“If you’re giving me the car--and the car keys--what's the point of going after the ring?” Steve tried, staring down the stairwell before him. “Aren’t they gonna like, not pay you for not finding anything?”

Munson made a dismissive noise, waving his hands in the air like he was dispersing smoke. 

“Eddie.” Steve said, and knew by the way Munson looked at him that the use of his first name hit as intended. “I mean it, man.” 

There was no point in going through with the rest of it. No point at all.

“And I told you I was given a side mission to my main mission, and a little industry secret for ya here Harrington,"

Steve watched as cheshire-cat like grin lit up Munson’s face, in a way eerie similar to Dustin’s gummy smile. "the side missions always pay more.” 

“What's under there isn’t--this isn’t--it’s not safe.” Steve fired back, hating how he fumbled the words, like a ball slipping through his hands. 

Munson scoffed.

“Life ain’t safe.”  

“This is different.” He tried to argue and hated how stubborn Munson was being about this.

It almost made him feel bad about all the time’s Robin had protested. 

(Idly Steve wondered if this was how she felt. Like she was getting dragged along--like she had to go. 

Did her insides feel scooped out? Stomach hollow and head hurting?

Or had the excitement blinded her too much to feel the way the walls seemed to press in?)

Steve’s gut clenched with worry, and he shook his head to clear the anxiety.

Met Munson's gaze and desperately thought of something to say to convince him to walk away.

Some of that must have bled onto his face, because Munson was giving him an odd, searching look.

“I’ll make you a deal, Steve-O." He said. "You give me two good reasons why we shouldn’t go down there, and if they’re really convincing, I might agree to skip it.” 

“I signed NDAs.” Steve sighed, because this was an argument they’d also already had. 

Twice in fact--once, when Eddie first found him, alive and very much not dead as reported, and the second time when he approached Steve with his “retrieval project.” 

(Both times at the goddamn gas station, which Steve would now be avoiding for life.) 

On eyebrow raised. “Over a mallfire?” 

“I think,” Steve said dryly, gesturing around to the destruction that surrounded them, “that you’ve figured out it wasn’t a mallfire.” 

Technically he wasn't even supposed to say that, but then, Steve had long stopped caring if he actually broke the stupid thing.

The real issue was that the story sounded like something out of a bad horror film--fake and ridiculous. If he tried to explain it, Munson would assume Steve had finally cracked.

Or, more likely, decide he was being made fun of, and react accordingly.

(They couldn't afford to fight here, and neither did Steve want Munson storming off.)

“Well duh. But then, you’re the one who won’t say what really happened here.” Munson waggled his eyebrows in a way that was so cartoony Steve was mildly impressed a person could pull it off. 

He sighed a second time. 

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

“You keep saying that and you keep not trying me.” Eddie leaned against the door frame. “Come on Harrington. Two reasons.”

Steve tried.

Ran through what might convince Munson to leave it all alone. 

Figured the guy was kind of like Dustin, in that he couldn’t be too vague (because it would just intrigue him) and he couldn’t be too honest (because any idiot could see Munson would be all over some kind of government conspiracy.) 

“The fact the building might pancake on us at any moment isn't enough?" He asked, unsure if sounding desperate was the right move here (an equally unsure if he could hide it if it was.)

He’d hadn’t tried this route before--hadn’t thought Munson would go for it. 

Not when he'd waived off every other attempt Steve could think of, to stop this.

“Nah, I trust my source, this place will hold.” Munson leaned forward, deep into Steve’s space and though Steve waivered back, he let the older teen get close. “You’ve been off ever since we came in here, Harrington. I want to know why.” 

“I was in the fire. Munson. I did almost die."

He still had a bruise left to prove it.

"That ain't it and you know it."

"I don't know what else to tell you then." Steve said, angry. why was the guy making this so hard? Why couldn't he just fucking listen!?

“Not even two reasons?”

“There’s not--” Steve closed his eyes, frustrated. “I’ve given you far more than two reasons!” 

“Not any good ones.” 

“I don’t know what you want from me. "Steve admitted finally. "because I told you, you wouldn’t believe the rest of it--” 

Munson didn't let his rant pick up steam. instead he pulled himself back, interrupting Steve.

“Then down the rabbit hole we go, Alice!”

Quick as a flash he was  down the stairs and Steve bit back a curse as he rushed to follow.

“Munson--come on, wait!” He yelled back.

Eddie, of course, did no such thing. 

It took everything he had in him to rush after, but Steve did it anyway.

What else was he good for?

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Reply All Author's Notes: After what feels like forever, the long awaited Gaz v Horangi chapter. Very different from the other ones, but trust I am finally cooking (maybe) Warnings: MDNI, Angst

A late night email from Laswell can never be good. And after reading one at 1am, Kyle can confirm it’s still not good. 

From: Laswell, Kate To: Price, John; Garrick, Kyle; etc… + more Cc: Keegan D. Russ; etc… + more Subject: Intelligence Officer in the Field

Intelligence officer in the field. You in the field. You in danger. 

Over Kyle’s dead body. If these weeks had shown Gaz anything, it’s that him and the boys don’t know how to protect you. Maybe once you’re officially on the team but now it’s better if you stay away from any risks. 

Therefore with a heavy heart, Kyle replies to Laswell’s email. He knows how much you wanted to go out in the field, prove your worth, but now is not the time. Now Kyle had to protect you. And to protect you meant making hard decisions. 

After sending a quick email to Laswell, expressing his weariness of bringing along a novice like yourself in the field, Kyle goes to sleep. It doesn’t come easy as the actions from the past few months come to haunt him but it eventually does. 

But unfortunately for him, his guilt still haunts him as he wakes up. His chest rests heavy, mind still tired from the shit sleep he had last night. Worst part is that he couldn’t even have a peaceful morning as his phone loses its mind. 

With the brightness way to high, Gaz starts to reads the multitude of messages polluting his phone. He doesn’t go far as one completely runs his blood cold. 

❤️❤️ - 6:34am Fuck you Kyle Garrick.

That wakes Gaz up. He keeps scrolling, looking for answers. 

MacTavish - 6:23am Jesus. and I thought lt was the heartless one Lieutenant 👻 - 6:05qm Garrick do you need an email tutorial or something?  John P - 1:56am Thanks for that. Just a question, did you have to send that email to everyone? 

Email… what the fuck are they on— no, no, NO. 

Kyle rushes to his emails and sees two, one from Sergeant Kim and the other from Laswell herself. He starts with Horangi’s email which was sent first before Laswell’s. 

From: Kim, Hong-jin  To: Laswell, Kate CC: Price, John; Russ, Keegan D.;… + more  Subject: RE: Intelligence Officer in the Field Laswell, I completely disagree with Garrick. I don’t know what unpreparedness he may be alluding to, but I have nothing but respect and confidence in the intelligence officer and their ability in the field.  I have only worked with them for a few weeks but those few weeks have shown me that they are nothing but exceptional in their work. I have no doubt that their presence in the field would not be a hinderance but only elevate our performance. If Garrick and anyone in the 141 is worried about their own ability in watching out for one of their own, I, Russ, or Nikto would be more than happy to keep an eye on them. We are more than capable of doing both our job and the 141’s.  - Sergeant Kim Hong-jin

And looking at the time stamp, Horangi sent that minutes after Gaz sent his what he thought private email. He quickly scrolls up to see Kate’s response. 

His throat tightens as his eyes scan Kate’s short but brutal email. 

From: Laswell, Kate To: All Subject: RE: Intelligence Officer in the Field All, Thank you for the input Sergeant Kim but I trust Sergeant Garrick’s judgement on this.  Maybe another time. Sincerely, Kate

Fuck.

Word Count: 586

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[pixie-felix]

a/n: this fic has nothing to do with food.

why yes I did make these GIFs especially for this fic thank you for noticing

Something to read while we're waiting for the results of the no thoughts/hard thoughts poll. If you want a soundtrack, Hey Daddy (Daddy's Home) by Usher fits pretty well (no daddy kink in the fic though).

Smut under the cut, minors dni.

comfort eating.

You’d been staring at this damn code for so long you might’ve burned it into your eyeballs. Somewhere, in the distance, you’re vaguely aware of the apartment door opening and closing, and someone calling out that they're home.

But by now you’re so obsessed with trying to find whatever formatting fuck up you made, that even the metallic jingle of keys falling into the “let’s-not-lose-this-shit” bowl doesn’t bring you back into the real world.

It’s not until your laptop physically moves out of your hands that you realise. Chan is home.

Sitting on his heels in front of you, he gently picks the computer up off your lap, his expression a mixture of concern and understanding. One workaholic recognises another.

“Is everything backed up?” He too knows the pain of a well meaning friend trying to help by tidying up, and accidentally erasing hours of hard work.

“Cloud and hard drive. And external hard drive. Possibly tattooed on my retinas also." He nods and carefully sets it on the side table, snorting quietly when you get to the part about your eyeballs. The little crease between his brows remains though.

“You told me you were going to take today off…”

You'd only meant to do a few lines of code, just to check for errors and maybe add a function or two. And yet here you are, sitting in the exact same spot from this morning, neck and shoulders aching from being hunched over your laptop for…

7 hours.

Chan rests his chin on your knees, head tilted to the side as he looks up at you like a lost puppy.

“Baby…”

No. Wait. Puppies don't sound like that. Or look at you like that. Or rub soothing, promising circles with their thumbs on the bare skin of your calves.

You're suddenly very aware still in your pajamas. If you can call it that. Really it's just one of Chan's old t-shirts, the fabric worn soft, always smelling like him even though you slept in it- and not much else.

Yeah, Chan's definitely not giving you puppy eyes.

The wolf is here tonight.

And he wants to play. You can tell from the subtle smirk that quirks the corner of his mouth when you audibly swallow.

“How… how was work?”

“Long. Busy. Tiring.” He punctuates his sentences with slow kisses on your knees, the closed mouth kind that still manage to feel anything but chaste. “Jisung dyed his hair blue. Felix's is no longer blond. Hyunjin cut all his hair off. Someone said something about a kiwi fruit and now the stylists are all freaking out.”

His tone is light, almost absent minded, but his touch has progressed from soothing circles to something a little firmer, a little more… demanding. And as his hands slowly creep up your legs, you're fairly certain you know what he wants.

“Chan…”

“Yes, baby?” His lips stretch into something that could almost pass for an innocent smile, if it wasn't for the fact his fingers have worked their way up to the hem of his t-shirt, slowly teasing the fabric further up your legs.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Well…” his fingers sweep under the fabric, inching closer and closer to where arousal is bubbling in your belly, still carefully punctuating his words with kisses on your skin, “I figured, since we're both so... stressed…” his fingers finally brush against your panties and you shiver. “I could help you relax a little.”

“Wh-what a-about you?”

He’s tracing, teasing along the edges of your underwear, watching you bite your lip to keep your cool. He likes it when you try to stay quiet. It makes it so much more satisfying when you start crying his name like it's the only word you know.

And then the bastard licks up your thigh, tugging your panties down and saying the magic words:

“I thought I'd indulge in a little comfort eating.”

You didn't make it to the bedroom. You barely made it off the sofa. Instead, Chan just yanked you forward, laid back on the rug, and now you're riding his face in the middle of the living room. Making the kinds of noises you thought only existed in hardcore porn.

His arms are locked around your legs, holding you in place as he grinds you up and down on his tongue. Your hands are twisted into his hair, partly for balance, partly as an anchor… but mostly because when you tug on it Chan moans into your cunt and that feels so good.

He's already tongued you through one orgasm, licking you out like you are his favourite candy. He's so drunk on your pussy that he's murmuring the kind of filth that would usually make him blush -m’ baby tastes so GOOD, w’nna drown in thi’s pussy- though his words are almost completely obscured by the wet, sloppy sounds of him giving you the messiest head you've had in months.

It is amazing, and it's incredible, and Chan is clearly having the time of his life as another orgasm coils in your belly, ready to spring. But he's playing games with you now, teasing you with the gentlest flicks of his tongue, keeping that high juuuust out of reach.

Really, it's his fault that you can't help but yank his hair a little harder, grind down on his face harder, and then you're out of control, jerking your hips back and forth on his face until it hits.

And oh boy how it hits, gushing all over Chan's face, ripping all your dignity away as you buck your hips into his tongue, chasing the high rushing through you from your head to your toes.

You don't always squirt, but Chan loves it when you do.

His moans almost drown out yours, so loud he's practically shouting, definitely disturbing the neighbours with the string of enthusiastic cuss words and filth pouring off his tongue (that's right baby, cum on my face, fucking drown me in your cunt, jesus fucking christ-)

It takes you a minute to come back to yourself, Chan still desperately eating you out, working his tongue all over you like he's trying to lick you clean.

But the more he uses his tongue the wetter you get, the more your hips shake, and the closer you are to another orgasm.

One you're not sure you can handle.

You try to lift up a little, give him space to breathe, and your man straight up growls at you, yanking you back down on his face and sucking on you harsh enough to make you yelp. Reminding you who is in charge, he grazes your clit with just the gentlest scrape of his teeth...

And that orgasm you weren't ready for? Hits you like a railway train. You're aching and overstimulated and absolutely powerless to do anything other than thrash around and cry as Chan keeps sucking on your goddamned clit like the devil himself couldn't stop him.

You might've blacked out for a second. Or three.

It's only when you finally come to a gasping, shuddering stop that Chan finally gives you the two gentle taps on your ass that mean you can get off his face now (safewords aren't really an option when your mouth is full).

Except you're so worn out from relentless overstimulation that it's less of a dismount and more just you collapsing in a graceless heap, legs shaking and thighs aching from being held apart for so long.

Boneless and pliant, it's no effort at all for Chan to scoop you up into his arms and carry you princess style to your shared bedroom. You're barely awake as he tucks you into bed and crawls in beside you, nuzzling your hair as you curl up into his chest.

You've almost asleep when a Very Important Thought occurs

“Channie…”

“Yeah baby?”

“You didn't get to cum. Don't you need to cum? Y’wanna blowjob or sumthin’?”

Chan huffs a quiet laugh into your hair. You're so cute when your words are all sleep slurred.

“I already got what I wanted.”

You’re mumbling something about not playin' fair and don't w’nna be selfish, but you're practically unconscious anyway so he just kisses the top of your head and pulls you closer into his chest.

“You can make it up to me in the morning, if it bothers you so much.”

*It turns out that you will in fact, not be making it up to Chan in the morning. Because when he finds all the carpet burn on your knees, he has a minor breakdown and refuses to let you do anything all day.

Urgh, I feel like this is way, way too short, too rushed, and just generally had the potential to be so much better 😂😭 But I wanted to get it it out of my drafts before it gets lost in the poll fics. I wrote this on my phone, so it's probably riddled with spelling and formatting errors 😂 please forgive me. It's hard to write when the house is full and privacy is limited. Just 3 more days until the No Thoughts/Hard Thoughts closes 👀 thank you to everyone that's voted or shown interest, I hope my writing doesn't let you down.

p.s. I was gonna start this fic with the following GIF but not everyone wants a giggle with their word🍤 so that wouldn't have been very cash money of me.

m.list

hard thoughts poll

tagslist is open

[raguonmynieceandnephew]

The Hell of Wait

Imagine this: You are the Queen of Ithaca. You gave birth at most like 5 months ago and your husband is gone to fight a war. You are now to raise this kid by yourself. The war itself takes ten years. You get the news he won, and the other kings are back in their homes, but yours is still there. He probably died. Now you have to entertain suitors who believe he and all the 600 men he took to war died and they turn out to be the a gang of assholes that pester you and your son. You wait.

You and your mother in law still believe he will come but he takes so fucking long she dies of a broken heart. You keep waiting.

You are forced to keep serving the suitors, forced to spend stupid amounts of money everyday on food and wine, throw banquets, parties, allow your home to be desecrated and is forced to house the freeloaders, no matter how much unsufferable they are, because of divine law. And you can't even complain because said divine law is the only thing that protects you from them aswell, at least for now, but you know it's only for a while. They are dangerous power hungry monsters, led by a fucking sociopath who bullies your teenage son and jokingly threatens to SA you on a daily basis, and he is so bold he does it to your son's face. Still you wait, no matter how much it hurts, you wait.

Yes, you know Zeus will punish them if they do anything, but the punishment means the crime has already been committed, so you are fucked either way. The safest thing to do would give in, but you refuse. Instead you risk your life and plot a whole scheme to fool those men and buy time for his arrival, if he's still even alive. Night after night you unthread that shroud, knowing that if any of them see you do it you are done for (ayyy). But you do it because you have faith, and you prefer to suffer the consequences that forsake the man you love. You choose to wait some more

The day you feared the most finally arrives, you have to pick and there's no running from it anymore, but you still find a way to buy more time, even if it's a few more days: The Challenge. String a bow, shoot an arrow through some axes and voilá. Perfect plan, doable enough so they can't question it but hard enough so they won't be able to do it. It works, but now the suitors are pissed and are about to raid the castle. It's over. But still, you remain waiting. if that's the last day of your life, you will spend it steadfast, unbroken, unwaivering. Waiting.

I love this part, not only because it's beatiful, but because we see that she is fucking pissed. She is very fucking angry at all she's been through these goddamn 20 years. Miraculously your husband arrives just in time, and deals with the situation, the wait has paid off, You can finally see the man you love after 20 years, you can finally RELAX and the first thing he does is fix his lips to question your love? Shit, i'd be fucking pissed too!

And i love how Ody gets angry at the bed thing but instantly recognizes her feelings when she claps back and he just pipes down and shuts up. He recognizes that he might be just a man, but she is just a woman too. She was fighting monsters and storms of her own, and she knows that if he went through half of what she's been through (and she can see he's been through A LOT) and fought as hard as she did for their love, then it doesn't matter what horrible things he has done, cause if she was in his shoes, she'd do 10x worse.

I fucking love this damn musical.

[tumblingxelian]

I wasn't aware I was notable, so I appreciate the excitement for the response on that front, as to the rest:

Well, you are right in something. I'm sorry, I always take bias as "saying things that aren't truth". But, even in @faunusrights post she denies some of the claims of the RWBY wiki.

You'd need to cite some claims they argued were not true and yet still canon, as it stands this is an accusation without evidence I feel.

He didn't have Ozpin dismissed from his position. At least, the council said "We are going to talk about your position" but that didn't end up happening. And Ironwood just gave a report of the situation to the council. It wasn't his intention to have Ozpin kicked of the council.

He had Ozpin ousted as head of security for the Vytal Festival, a job Ironwood was uniquely unqualified for given his myriad of poor decisions like not even understanding the premise if "Scouts". But also, Ironwood had been reporting tot he council behind Ozpin's back for weeks, even as he claimed to trust Ozpin and be loyal he was explicitly undercutting Ozpin to his superiors to steal his job based on the egotistical conviction he could do it better.

About allying with the SDC. I mean, it's not like Ironwood is doing something evil with that. Ironwood gave robots to the SDC, (in a world where the Grimm and the terrorist are a risk). Let's remember that Ironwood wants to retire the men from the dangers of the battlefield, so having robots would protect SDC workers and guards. Later both worked on the Paladins and the airships. What's wrong with that? He later didn't have problems annoying Jacques with the embargo, close of borders and putting a military operation over the abandoned Dust mine.

He very explicitly is doing something evil by allying wth the SDC, a canonically corrupt organization, that abuses, exploits and even causes the deaths of its workers, most of whom are also a discriminated against minority and underclass.

Being their ally is intensely immoral on Ironwood's part, and he only turned against Jac, because the man refused to be intimidated into obedience like most other people. Jac outright even highlighted that Ironwood was acting as a dictator and Ironwood didn't disagree, merely threatened him with the prospect that if he is a dictator then Jac should want to stay on his good side.

Pulling out his troops out of Vale... Well, he was put in charge of the security during the Vytal Festival. The Vytal festival ended, he needed his troops at home, protecting Atlas. The same goes about pulling his troops out of Mistral.

Vale was their ally and a place still being over run with Grimm, Atlas still had the rest of its army, specialists and Hunters and as far as we known was not in any particular danger.

He bailed on Vale the moment it suited him because, as Mistral further demonstrated, Ironwood is a Fairweather friend who won't stick with people when the going gets hard.

Also seriously, the army he "needed" at home literally did jack and shit beyond floating there. He didn't need them except for his own personal sense of security.

About neglecting Mantle, I agree. But oppression and exploitation... Well, not so much. At least, not during the first episode as you say: He is not responsible for the exploitation of Mantle, it is Jacques. He is not a businessman, he is a general and headmaster. And about oppression? You say for the police state? I mean, it is needed to give protection to the people of Mantle and prevent Salem from infiltrate in the kingdom. And about the close of borders and embargo. Were security measures ensured to prevent Salem from infiltrate the kingdom.

Ironwood has basic control over the Council of Atlas & Mantle, so yes he actually is responsible for policies and circumstances that impoverish and exploit Mantle, especially as he is an ally of the SDC and other wealthy elites. Provided they do what he wants when he wants and what he wanted never involved helping the underprivileged. Jac and his ilk could only operate with the impunity they did because Ironwood enabled them.

The people of Mantle were arrested for defending themselves from Grimm, that has no impact on Salem's agents. The walls was not repaired, that enabled Salem's schemes. Mantle's defences were hot garbage and their resources were constantly stolen for Ironwood's pet projects, which also enabled Salem. I would also add, that Ironwood's closed boarder policy did nothing to stop Watts, Tyrian, Cinder & Neo from slipping passed it.

So it was entirely unnecessary, and only served to make everything worse in Mantle, which was a recurring plot point across Volume 7.

I don't know. I mean, Ironwood was authoritarian but that doesn't make him a dictator. He have two seats in the council, but that was never presented as unconstitutional. And 3 seats of the council are democratically elected. I mean, there is even political dissidence, things that aren't allowed in a dictatorship.

Well, thanks for help understand her point. I didn't get that back then. But well, I don't know. Just because women, queer or trans (Isn't trans included inside queer?) think good of Robyn. That doesn't make her right. My point was that not all the queer were necessarily agreeing that Robyn was great. And hey, Hatedom is such a derogatory term. And I think you are oversimplifying things about the rewrites. I mean, you wouldn't like that I simplify things criticizing RWBY.

Glad I could be of help there.

(Some people prefer trans specifically others queer, its a personal preference thing.)

That part of the post was not about whether Robyn was right (Which she was) but about the fact that its unsurprising if unfair that she gets so maligned by the relative minority of deeply conservative people who are neither numerous nor fans, but have lodged themselves into positions where their voices get to be louder than everyone else's.

We have a problem like this on the RWBY Tv Tropes page too, where the people who edit it, hate queer representation and the show and try to maligned, edit out or remove any reference to such things as best they can.

I could copy paste the part of Clover, Robyn and Qrow. But I think that the whole context is important. The thing is: If it happens peacefully, how does the arrest count as violence? Is a deprivation of liberty, but, why violence? And well, Qrow was willing to go. So, why not? Of course, the orders given to Clover were immoral. But, they still had the chance to talk. About Robyn. Hey, even Qrow suggested go to Ironwood and talk to him. Ironwood is different than the normal dictators. Robyn Hill just discovered that he was being framed for the massacre and that he had nothing to do with the murders on Mantle. She just discovered that he had reasons as to why he declared the embargo and close of borders. I mean, Ironwood have just been convinced of helping Mantle that very night. Not even give him the benefit of the doubt? The thing is, that fighting in the Manta could have mean Robyn dying stupidly.

OK, so I want you to take your argument about how "Does it qualify as violence if one side doesn't resist" and apply to say, a firing squad and ask yourself a second time, whether something counts as violence or not, just because the victim is passive.

Why would she give him the benefit of the doubt when his polices impoverished Mantle, his allies had exploited Mantle, his Ace-Ops tried to black bag her, his authoritarian rule had gotten people killed, and he had just decided then and there to leave her city to die and arrest anyone who disagreed with him?

I mean, everyone in the world can do that, that doesn't make it less arrogant. If she have waited till after the elections, then it would makes sense. But being so sure about it, shows that she is so sure of her victory.

I want you to consider why you think its arrogant for a woman to do this, when its standard operating produce around the world. Also keep in mind, if the election hadn't literally been stolen she'd have been right. So it wasn't arrogant regardless, just an accurate assessment of reality.

I mean, why Ironwood would arrest Robyn? Qrow is part of Ruby's group. But, she is not part of it. When I'm saying that he didn't underestimate her, I'm saying for the fact that he didn't underestimate her threat. I always interpreted as Robyn saying "He underestimate the threat I represent to his plans".

That's your interpretation, that is not how I took it.

Eh, he is not robbing Mantle. He is buying those resources:

Robyn: Clover, I’m so glad you’re here. Maybe you can help me understand why this truck that's supposed to be taking construction materials to fix Mantle’s outer wall, is on its way to the middle of nowhere? Are you lost?

Using government funds to purchase something for one purpose then using it for another secretly is called embezzling, otherwise known as theft.

You creating headcanons to justify it is just another example of exactly what faunusrights is talking about when it comes to anti Robyn, pro Ironwood bias.

Ironwood put Atlesian knights, soldiers, Penny, Ren, Nora (With the usual help of other Huntsmen doing their bounty mission), a fleet of Mantas flying over Mantle. I think that is far better than having to simply repair the wall. And the Grimm aren't busting through the hole all hours of the day. If that was the case the alerts would be sounding every hour. And owning guns isn't even illegal. What is illegal is owning weapons without authorization. I come from a country where owning weapons also requires an authorization despite the fact of we being surrounded by crime. And Huntsmen are also allowed to carry weapons. Think about the Happy Huntresses.

Clover put them there, & Marrow suggested similar missions, while the rest of the cast volunteered for them. Ironwood never assigned anyone to missions to help Mantle until the evacuation, something he had to be pressed into and went back on the moment he had a fright.

The fleet did not act in Mantle's defence when Grimm were breaking through the walls until the massiv estampede in which they also proved completely ineffective, the same is true for the Atlesian Knights and minor guards both of which served as a police force to keep people in line more than as a deterrent against Grimm. We literally see the Atlesian Knights trying to break up people huddling for warmth as the kingdom freezes and Nora outright mocks the idea that Ironwood's meager security detail would be of any use upon their arrival in Mantle.

Think about RWBY, JNR and Qrow being arrested for defending themselves & others?

As I said, the guns are allowed, what is not allowed is having one without authorization. What is stomping over all democratic norms? An election was just being held. Stealing private property of who? Jacques? His mine was abandoned. The public goods, I already talked about Mantle construction materials. There is heating for the citizens. And it seems to be a public service considering how Jacques had access to the Atlas network due to being hired to provide the heating.

As I said, you're wrong.

Ironwood was making unilateral decisions without consulting his democratically elected peers consistently throughout volumes 7.

Mantle's resources and yes, the mine, just because it wasn't used doesn't mean Ironwood can just take it cos he feels like it.

The fact you think its fine for Ironwood to oppress, betray and rob people, but think its immoral and arrogant for Robyn Hill to resist such things is very much the embodiment of the kind of bias faunusirghts was talking about.

Yes, they really thought that the ship was stolen. Ironwood didn't have a reason to lie to them in that moment.

They had zero evidence RWBY & co were on it, or else they would have arrest Maria.

About why they didn't arrest Maria... Who knows. Maybe because she was accompanying Pietro in that moment thought that she had nothing to do with the stolen ship.

You making up a headcanon does not change that they had no evidence and were originally arresting them for having weapons.

I mean, she didn't know what the results were really going to been. She can't see the future and Jacques have just used the whole city hostage. Maybe and he wins because of that power play. Of course, Jacques stole the election. And you keep ignoring that even Weiss and Ren commented on how weird it is to hold a party before even winning.

As said, she was going to win, and this is normal, the fact you think its arrogant for a woman to do this entirely normal thing, even when she's right speaks for itself.

I don't ignore that, I didn't mention it because it doesn't matter, what Robyn did was entirely normal and she was right,. That Ren (Who was down in the dumps) & Weiss (paranoid about her father) thought it was odd made them the exceptions, not the norm.

They only have been biased against Robyn. I mean, faunusrights never mentioned other example of the wiki being biased against women. So yeah, say that the ones behind the wiki are against female characters or female authority figures is just gratuitous. You can't simply judge someone without knowing all the work behind them. How is Ironwood conservative? I mean, maybe capitalist and anyway he messed up Jacques SDC operations. And liking a character and disliking another doesn't mean anything. I met persons who dislike Robyn and like Ironwood and they aren't against female characters or female-authority-figure characters in general.

Past experience with the wiki stanning Adam says otherwise :/ Also Faunusrights was specifically talking about Robyn Hill because that is where its most egregious. In large part because Robyn was new & its easy to contrast her against Ironwood as they were direct foils to one another.

I actually can, I am very good at judging things XD

Ironwood is all about centralizing control of the government, funneling money into the military industrial complex relies on authority, rank and coercion and is allied primarily with hyper capitalists who exploit discriminated against minorities.

There's a reason a lot of his fans are Trump voters.

Just to give a conclusion. I'm sure you doesn't care but I prefer to clarify something before the people start jumping to conclusions. I tried to give everything I could to the fandom. I made a post saying about why the martial law wasn't the right call during Worst case scenario. I have been there criticizing Ironwood inside RWBYcritics. I have dedicated my time to defend Robyn Hill and other matters of the series. So the fact that now comes @faunusrights to believe that I'm against Robyn and I'm a pro Ironwood stan is just... frustrating. I'm the one who decided to go and discuss with the RWDE in their very subreddit going against them. Fuck, I even responded to Dextixer in some posts. There is a reason why I put RWDE and anti RWDE in my responses. I consider myself somewhat in the middle.

Saying "I'm sure you don't care" seems rather backhanded, I took the time to quote and response to your entire essay which is more than you did for @faunusrights with all that cherry picking and I did so again here.

I am more confused than anything by this claim on multiple fronts :/

I mean, that's nice I suppose, but no one asked you to do it and I confess I don't know you nor do I spend time there, so I can neither confirm or deny any of what you are saying,

I don't believe faunusrights said anything beyond a lack of intent to read your response given association with some rather vexing takes. Though my sympathies on having to talk to Dex, that is vexing.

(Shrugs) Ultimately, you found a several years old post highlighting a bias in how Robyn is framed VS how Ironwood is framed by the people holding the microphone so to speak and deciding to argue in favor of the people holding the microphone. I know noting else of you beyond that, so its what I responded to, and I hope this all made sense.

Take care now!

what is going on with all the bias on robyn hill’s wiki page, anyway? - an aside

As someone who uses the RWBY wiki with some degree of frequency - often because I’m looking for art references, or Semblance and weapon names - I’m used to… some amount of bias in the articles for different characters? Like, let’s be real, it’s not a perfect wiki! Community-maintained stuff isn’t easy to all keep on the same track! But, generally, it gives the facts well enough and doesn’t do too bad a job keeping all the balls in the air when it comes to new information from all four corners of this franchise.

Well, until you open the article for Robyn Hill, and realise it’s an absolute disaster. Like, really; the impartial voice just plain doesn’t exist for her, and almost all of her wiki is written in such a way that she reads as being an absolutely insufferable, hostile, hard-to-like character. Even if you aren’t a fan of Robyn personally, you have to admit that if you hadn’t seen the show yourself, you might very well come away from her article presuming she’s a major antagonist of Volumes 7 and 8.

Like, for instance, let’s take a look at the first paragraph of her Personality section:

Robyn has a direct and confident personality, having no trouble being confrontational with Atlas personnel, including the Ace Operatives. Robyn also seems to suffer from overconfidence and arrogance, shown in her encounters with Ruby and celebrating her election victory before it was verified. She is aggressive and hostile in nature, quickly jumping to conflict without thinking through consequences. However, she is also shown to be reasonable when the situation calls for it.

And, for good measure, here’s another paragraph from the same section:

In “With Friends Like These” Robyn displayed a rather impulsive side of her personality, when upon hearing that James Ironwood’s plan to abandon Mantle and arrest those against him, she started a fight between herself, Clover Ebi, and Qrow Branwen onboard a Manta with Tyrian Callows in custody. Despite the fact, there was no order or her arrest. Her brashness led to Tyrian breaking free and crashing the Manta as well as her becoming unconscious.

(Taken from Robyn’s RWBY Wiki page. Bolding is mine.)

Seguir leyendo

[emoisthenewemu]

Favorite present! ~ Megumi Fushiguro x GN! Reader

A/N i live for soft boy megumi like SORRY but he is sensitive I don’t make the rules. i love him sm and plan to write more for him in the future.

If you were to ask Megumi Fushiguro what his favorite present was this year, he would probably say you.

Wc:1086

"Meguuumiiii" You whine from the hall, holding a cardboard box full of your friends' presents. Ones you handmade with blood, sweat, and literal tears. In fact, you had begun the project as early as October (before Halloween even).

What at first seemed to be a cute idea of making stuffed animals soon turned into a pain in the ass, taking up most of your free time.  Of course when you and Megumi would see each other you would refrain from letting it distract you but the very second he left or even fell asleep there you went-crocheting away. When he would walk in your dorm after a long day of class?

There you sat, legs crossed and an ever-so determined look on your face. Hunched over in a way that looked painful-which it definitely was because you had been complaining about your horrible back pain for the past two months.

Every time the two of you would FaceTime you would be groaning and sighing, complaining about how it was crooked or you put too much stuffing. That your fingers were cramping or now you need to start all over because it looks just awful.

Oh how annoying it was for Megumi to sit and watch you suffer over something absolutely no one is forcing you to do. He told you countless times to just give up and ‘buy everyone gift cards like a normal person’.

But he soon learned his lesson because every single time he said anything like that it just ended in a speech about how important it is to ‘finish things you started’ and you ‘promised yourself it wouldn’t be another abandoned project sitting in the closet’. Yes, Megumi understands. He still thinks you are insane. And he will tell you so.

“Isn’t that why you love me?” You say and he can only nod.

Megumi loves your tenacious spirit. How passionate you are about the things you care for. How lucky he is to be one of the things you are very passionate about. It is the only reason he continues to support you in your endeavor. As long as you promise you will not be doing this shit again next year. He even puts a cute little Santa hat on and wears matching slippers with you. It only took like five minutes of begging!

The only thing that continues to bother him is that you did not make him one. Surely you would have mentioned it by now. He would have seen it one of the countless times he walked in to find your room scattered with yarn and your many ‘rough drafts’. He would also be lying if he did not admit he went snooping around a few times when you were showering in the hopes of finding his.

Kugisaki is getting a white bunny. A pink bear for Itadori. There’s an animal for Maki, Yuuta, Inumaki, Gojo, a panda for Panda (duh), and nothing for him.

Maybe you forgot. You’ve been so busy making all of them and it must have slipped your mind. You probably did not even think he would want one. He has no stuffed animals in his room or anything even remotely similar. It’s not like he would cuddle it at night and think about you or anything.

So he delivers the gifts with you-with a smile on his face. Whatever Megumi considers to be a smile at least. Even ignoring the comments of how ‘whooped’ he is to be standing there matching with you. A thing he once swore he would never do.

Until he met you. You softened him up like butter. Gone is the aggression that was always his go-to in any situation. The way you loved him made him feel complete. He used to find it absurd that falling in love could change a person.

But you change him for the better. You challenge him emotionally without trying to change who he is deep down. You bring out the best and suppress the worst of him. Oh how Megumi loves you, more than words can describe.

It is your first Christmas together. As a couple at least so he may have went a bit overboard with the presents. He was trying very hard to impress you. He would be deeply embarrassed if he got you a bunch of presents and you got him nothing.

Surely that would not happen. You gave him a present last year. Why would this one be any different?

He is just anxious, a feeling he knows a bit too well. Megumi is an overthinker, sometimes he will let even the smallest things eat him up inside. He is nervously chewing at the inside of his cheek, holding the now empty box as you finish giving away your last present.

You grab his hand, squeezing it tight before pressing a kiss onto his cheek. “Thanks for coming with me handsome. Im so glad this is over” You groan and he chuckles at the exasperated look on your face. “You were so right. Never again” You peck his cheek again and he smiles contently.

Your touch is so comforting he does not even realize the two of you are heading back to your dorm instead of his. Too lost in the warmth of your smooth hands and intoxicating giggle.

It is not until you open the door and walk him inside that he understands that all of his worries were for nothing. Sometimes he forgets that you might love him just the same way he loves you. Maybe even more like you swear you do. He feels almost silly for doubting you. As he should.

Your small twin bed is covered in presents. His presents. They range all different sizes. But right in the middle, atop one of the gifts sits two little crochet figures.

Two wolves, a white and a black one.

His chest is warm and tingly. Megumi pulls you into a hug. Arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his head digging into the nape of your neck-he swallows the lump forming in his throat.

“Thank you” Megumi sighs into your chest, moving up to kiss your neck lovingly.

“Ohh Megs” You chuckle, trying to jump excitedly up and down but his arms prevent you from doing so. They grip you tighter. “You need to open them first!”

And he says something so cheesy he would have thrown up if the moment wasn’t so sweet. “You’re the only present I need”

[im4rmy]

your first time together - jaemin (idol AU)

IMAGINE: he rents a room in a hotel to have a really nice dinner but your mind is somewhere else.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

• you sighed deeply to gain the strenght that seems to have left your body: you worked your ass off for 12 hours at the hospital where you were doing your specialization. but holy shit were you tired.

• you were used to long shifts, you loved your job and usually even 20 hours of work were easily manageable but today- even getting ready for your date with the most attractive man you ever met in your life was HARD.

• getting all dolled-up and choosing an outfit was one of your favourite activities and the idea of having a fancy dinner in an expensive hotel was great but your body was really struggling rn, in front of the location where jaemin was waiting for you.

• you took the elevator to reach the room jaemin texted you about and sighed again, getting ready to be charming and sexy for him. you liked him a lot tbh but of course you only had a few dates together and you were basically still strangers.

• jaemin opened the door of the room to welcome you in and the bright smile he gave you made your shoulders relax instantly. his presence was really comforting.

• "hi pretty" "hi jaemin, you look very handsome, as always"

• he laughed letting you in (to hide the butterflies that threatened to climb up through his throat) and taking your coat for you. "you're stunning, as always. i'm sorry, i know it looks very suspicious to have dinner in this room rather than the restaurant but-" "oh you don't need to explain, i saw the amount of people that are hanging in the hall. i like it here, it's more quiet"

• he smiled again and guided you to take a seat at the table. you looked around and- that wasn't just a room, it was a suite, with a living room and a kitchen and probably two or more bedrooms.

• the dinner was going on smoothly as always, he was funny and charming. you could listen to him talking all day long without getting tired, but tonight your body was failing you and your legs hurt so much it was distracting.

• "are you okay?"

• you looked up at him and smiled. "of course! um... what were you saying?"

• he didn't answer and looked at you unconvinced, but resumed his discourse nevertheless.

• "omg i'm sorry, hold on a second. i really need to-" you got up abruptly startling him and you shamelessly took off your black heels and exhaled loudly, letting your feet enjoy the freedom.

• jaemin looked at you with wide eyes, shocked by your sudden and weird change of character. you sighed and came back to your seat, giving another bite at your perfectly cooked steak. "you were talking about the shooting. what happened then?"

• he just stared at you for a while, starstrucked. then he tilted his head. "how many hours did you work today?"

• you blinked. "i told you" "i feel like you lied to me tho"

• you held his gaze for a bit, but then you collapsed on the chair and sighed in defeat. "twelve"

• jaemin's eyes widened. "WHAT?" he got on his feet immediately and walked around to stand behind you. when you feel his hands on your bare shoulders you flinch, but relax immediately after.

• "w-what are you doing?" "you need to rest, what the hell were you thinking? i would've never invited you here knowing how tired you are!"

• you know what he means but you decide to tease him, trying to focus while his hands massage your skin and above all... trying not to moan, for god sake. "are you saying that i'm not pretty enough when i'm tired?"

• he laughs loudly and you can't see him but you feel his gorgeous smile shining behind you. and when he leans forward to whisper directly in your ear, you swear your heart flips in excitement.

• "you're truly a menace... i should watch my mouth, don't i?"

• you want to answer but his said mouth finds its spot around your earlobe and every possible word dies in your throat. he continues his journey down your neck until his lips reach your shoulder. and you finally moan.

• "ah, here it is. i'm waiting to hear you like this since we met, baby" "you really need to watch your mouth, pretty boy"

• you grab his head and smash your lips together, he sighs in your mouth and caress your arms, savouring your soft skin with his fingertips. "you're exquisite"

• "you didn't even taste me yet" "omg can i?"

• you see him TREMBLE and the excitement dancing in his eyes makes your mouth and your core water. "help yourself, sweetie"

• he moans just thinking about it and gets on his knees instantly, settling between your legs. he caresses your thighs trying not to drool and he reaches immediately for your panties, taking them off and leaving you in only your short dress.

• he lifts up the hem of it and attacks your core like a starved man, starting to kiss and lick and suck right away. you moan and grab his perfectly styled hair in your fingers, pulling at it.

• "shit" "relax, let me hear your pretty voice"

• jaemin finds himself craving your moans and whimpers: you're very vocal and he happens to love it. but you'll soon find out that he... purrs. every time you touch him properly he purrs. he lets out such low and shameless growls that your thighs clench involuntarily.

• after a few minutes, you're sprawled on the first bed you found with his erection in your hand, his mouth sucking one of your breast and your bodies completely naked on each other.

• between a whimper and a moan, he speaks "you remember that night, when we first met?". you nod.

• "i said that i fell in love with you then. i wasn't lying. i'm in love with you, y/n. i fell on my knees like a dumb kid. you have me wrapped around your finger and i love everything about that"

• you smile and look at the way he's caressing your breasts while he's saying all of these things directly in your face and you're stroking his damn member. you're very sure that this man is one to keep close.

• "then make love to me"

• the look you both exchange is sweet and the kiss after that is the most awesome kiss you'll ever experience in your life. you're sure of that.

• and when your bodies fully interlock you feel your mind melting in the bliss of the moment: jaemin's skin is all over yours and his hands cherish your every curve and line.

• his movements are sharp and rhythmic but slow, he takes care in every gesture, every stroke, every thrust.

• you had sex with different men before (and you can tell he had women in his hands before too) and you enjoyed a lot of good sex, but this hits different: you never felt this intimate with someone, especially because this is your first time together! wtf? but your bodies feel so comfortable interwined together.

• him in you... his eyes looking at you adoringly and lost in all the sensations you're enjoying right now... his hands holding you tight... does it feel amazing? yes. does it feel exciting? yes. but above all... it feels right.

• you reach the climax when he presses your clit with his thumb without stopping his melliflous thrusts. and when your walls clench around him he curses under his breath and cums right away, riding your shared orgasm till the end.

• he sighs and throws himself next to you, pulling you towards him and letting you rest on his broad chest. when you hear his heart beating at an alarming pace you smile and caress his abs.

• "what if i call you every time i have a 12 hours shift?" "how often does that happen?" "every two days" "that's too little, i need to see you at least once a day"

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

Taglist: @carelessshootanonymous

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[xoxoavenger]

Let It Snow

pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N and Sam aren't very close, but having to share a cold room could change that.

word count: 3176

warnings: canon typical violence

I'm so sorry this is so late I am trying to get the last 12 days fic out today!!

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

Y/N isn't sure how she ended up with the Winchester brothers. She was a good hunter - a great hunter - but they had saved her from a hairy situation with a Rougarou. She felt stupid as soon as it happened, but it did happen and she couldn't go back in time and stop herself from stepping into the trap. Of course, the Winchester brothers had come to save the day.

Dean she didn't mind as much. She wasn't particularly fond of his 'save the damsel in distress' attitude, but once she got closer to them and realized it was clearly his coping mechanism for losing his mother so young, for feeling like he had no control, she could handle him a lot better.

Better than his little brother, Sam, who she wanted to punch at least once a day.

She lived in the bunker with the brothers, since it wasn't like she had a home to go back to and she had been with them when they got the keys. Dean had insisted there was plenty of space, but apparently Sam didn't like this plan. He had rolled his eyes, asked Dean to talk in a different room, but she had still heard the yells from down the hall where she was trying to block it out. She chose that room, the one at the very end of the hall as her own, and Sam had chosen the room Dean vacated after their fight as his. Complete opposite sides of the hallway, Y/N tries her hardest not to run into Sam. He clearly didn't want her here, so she doesn't eat dinner with him, she doesn't watch movies, research in the library, anything. She either takes one of the old cars and spends a couple days God knows where (giving Dean a heart attack every time by the way he blows up her phone) or she spends her time with the mountain of books in her room, taken and returned to the library when Sam's out on hunts.

Which is another problem that makes Dean want to rip out all his hair - the three of them can no longer even go on hunts together. It's always Dean and Sam or Dean and Y/N. And Dean loves to hunt, alright? It's in his blood. But between Sam and Y/N each finding cases, he's exhausted. He can't say he's surprised when he gets sick.

"Dean, I can't just let these people die." Sam says bitchily, and Dean wants to slap his brother. He would, if he wasn't shaking under the mountain of blankets he's piled on his bed.

"I told you to go with Y/N." Dean says. He wants to kill his brother for dragging out his thing with Y/N. She's a sweet girl, and she deserves better than Sam's emotionally inept abuse that he doesn't even realize he's giving.

"She hates me." Sam says with a sad face that rivals a puppy.

"Sam, I'm going to throw up on you right now if you tell another lie." Dean says, and he truly means it.

"Dean!" Sam screeches, moving out of range. "I'm being serious! She avoids me at all costs! She'll have meals with you and watch movies with you, but the second I walk into the room she suddenly has to leave? You tell me what that means."

"I am way too sick for this." Dean groans, because usually he's not the one who has to explain things to his brother like a toddler. "Have you ever thought that maybe she does that because the first day we were here you threw a tantrum about her staying with us?" He asks, head flaring in pain. He closes his eyes and turns, because he doesn't want to ever listen to his brother's voice again.

"But," Sam starts to say, and Dean actually has to tamp down the urge to scream as he pulls the covers his face.

"Sam, leave my room right now and go on this hunt with Y/N. And please, for the love of God, do not text me or come back to this bunker until you have talked through your shit." Dean's voice is deadly, and Sam knows he has to comply. He leaves with an annoyed 'get better soon' and goes to his own room, because he doesn't want to go to Y/N's room.

She's reading in her room, some sort of fiction that she's been waiting for free time to read. Sam knocks on her door, and she figures it's Dean, because Sam has never been in her room.

"Come in!" She calls, putting her book down and watching the tall ass man walk through the door.

"Hey," Sam says, and Y/N chokes down the urge to tell him to fuck off and leave. He looks so out of place, eyes flitting around her room because he can't look at her for some reason.

"What do you need?" She asks flatly, leaning back.

"There's a case in Minnesota." He explains, voice low. He still isn't looking at her.

"Minnesota in January? You've got to be out of your mind. Ask Dean." She goes to grab her book again, and Sam sighs.

"He's sick." Sam finally meets her eyes when she looks up, and they're both silent for a moment. "Please, I can't do this alone." He is practically begging, and he knows how pathetic it sounds.

"Fine." She agrees, taking a deep breath. "When do we leave?"

~

They realized that maybe they should have left this case to more local hunters the second the heating in the old car they had decided to take went out. Sam had gotten out and tried to fix it while Y/N stayed bundled in the car, wondering why she decided this would be a good idea when she doesn't like Sam and he doesn't like her and it's minus degrees and snowing. Even the coats she stole from Dean aren't doing much, so when they get to the hotel after a car ride of silence Y/N is ready for sleep. They had chosen a fancier hotel than they normally stay at, because they needed a room with heat.

"Two rooms, please." Sam says, and Y/N resists the urge to roll her eyes because of course he can't just share the room with her.

"We only have one available." The lady says, and Y/N suddenly thinks that maybe Sam wasn't being too overreactive. Just the thought of sharing a room with him makes her want to drive all the way back to Lebanon.

"What?" Y/N can't resist saying. "How do you only have a single room left?" She asks.

"There's a wedding here tomorrow, and half the town lost power. I'm surprised we have the one room left." She shrugs, and Y/N wants to yell at her. She knows there's no use, however, because this receptionist can't magically make another room available.

"That's fine. We'll take the room, thanks." Sam hands her the fake card Charlie programmed along with the matching fake ID, and then he's given the keys.

"You'll be on the fourth floor, room four twenty-eight." The receptionist tells them, and the two smile at her before walking to the elevator.

When they get to the room, immediately Y/N knows something is wrong. She pauses in the door, and Sam runs into her back and causes her to stumble.

"We need to go back down." She says. "This is wrong."

"Oh," Sam says as he looks over her shoulder. "But there are no more rooms left." He says it so simply, she wants to hit him.

"There's only one bed." She says, as if Sam can't see this himself. He squeezes past where she's still stuck in the doorway, and goes over to the thermostat.

"It's freezing." Sam changes the subject, because there's nothing they can do about their sleeping arrangements. They know it's too cold to go out and find a new hotel room, which may not even have room since the receptionist said that half the town didn't have power.

"Well, turn the heat up." She can't help but be bitchy, because the year she's spent on the other side of the bunker, avoiding him at all costs, has made her unable to even be in the same room as him.

"It's not working." He grunts, fiddling with it even while he understands the truth.

There's no heat in this room.

"We need to find another fucking hotel." Y/N mutters. She goes to grab her stuff, but Sam grabs her arm.

"The snow is coming down too hard. We don't even know where another hotel is, and we're going to freeze in that metal ice cube." He gently lets go over her arm, but she can feel the tingles from where his hand was.

"We're going to freeze here." She says, but she knows that even this cold room is better than the way the car felt.

"The water is probably warm." He tells her. She rolls her eyes.

"Great, so we can get wet and then freeze our asses off as soon as we're not under the water." She says, and he just blinks.

"If we run hot water, we can create steam and hopefully it'll give off some heat." He explains, and now she feels stupid.

"I'm gonna go downstairs to see if there's any extra blankets." She tells him.

And of course, there's only one.

"I'm so sorry." The lady says, like she genuinely cares that Y/N is going to have to share the bed with the man who hates her in a room that feels like it's below zero. "If anyone leaves, or as soon as someone checks out, I will call your room." She promises, but Y/N knows it's a lost cause. No one is leaving, at least not tonight. Y/N and Sam are stuck without power, and only one extra blanket.

When she gets back to the room, the shower is running, steam coming out from the open door. It isn't until she sees Sam's naked back that she realizes that they have to keep the door open to heat up the room.

She turns to the bed, feeling her cheeks heat.

"I'm back!" She calls, putting the extra blanket on the bed. It does feel slightly warmer with the steam, but she can't help but wonder how long it'll last.

"The water is nice and hot!" Sam calls out, and she can hear him getting out of the shower but not turning it off. She is grabbing her own stuff for the shower when Sam walks out, wearing only a towel around his waist. "I figured we should keep it going for a long as possible, since it's the only thing heating the room." He tells her, and she just nods as she looks at his eyes and his eyes only, ignoring everything else (like the tattoo on his toned chest, the water rolling down his abs where a trail of hair leads under the towel).

"Sounds good," She manages, then goes into the bathroom. It's then, as she turns toward the room, that she realizes they need the door open to let the heat out.

Sam is out of the eye line, so she quickly strips and gets in the shower. The glass is now fogged, so she can't see much of the room and he can't see in. Still, she showers quickly and gets out, not getting her hair wet so she doesn't have to deal with being in the cold room with wet hair. She towels off, then changes as quickly as she possibly can so that Sam can't see anything. But his back is turned the whole time, now with pants and a long sleeve on to sleep. She's glad she brought a hoodie (which may have been Dean's at one point) so she won't absolutely freeze.

"How long should we keep it running?" She asks, walking into the room and putting her old clothes back into her bag.

"I guess until it goes cold." Sam shrugs, and then it goes back to silence. She grabs her book, going to read in the bed before sleeping. When Sam, all six feet five fucking inches of burly man, gets in next to her, she wants to start crying. He takes up over half the bed, and she just knows how this is going to end.

It's going to be a long night.

~

"We woke up cuddling!" Y/N whispers into her phone while Sam talks to the victim's family. She had stayed in the car, deciding to research more since they hadn't been able to look at each other all morning, much less talk to each other.

"That doesn't surprise me." Dean tells her honestly, making her groan. "And not just because I already heard about this." Of course Sam told his brother about the cuddling incident.

"How am I supposed to go back tonight!" She cries, knowing she's being dramatic but also knowing there's nothing worse than Sam, who already hates her, not even being able to talk to her.

"I'm sure it was just cold. I mean, you slept fine, right?" Dean asks, and she can tell he's eating and talking with his mouth full.

"I slept like a fucking log, Dean. That's the problem! And your brother hates me, so I don't even know why he would cuddle me in the first place!" She tells Dean as she skims the book in her lap, not finding anything remotely related to their case.

"He doesn't hate you." Dean tells her, and she just shakes her head.

"I'll just have to take your word for it, since he avoids me like the plague." She mutters. She looks over and sees Sam walking out of the house, so she says her goodbyes and gets off the phone.

"I think we're dealing with some sort of spirit, not a demon. It seems to be haunting the barn, drawing people in." Sam informs her. They had known that the abandoned barn had been a part of the case, but they had thought it was a demon due to the nature of the killings.

"Like the spirit of George Hanover, the kid that was killed there during a hazing ritual in the eighties. We can go a library and see if the deaths match with the way he was killed, maybe interview people who knew him." Y/N suggests, and Sam nods.

The ride, of course, is quiet.

~

It's late at night and freezing cold when George finally shows his face in the barn. Y/N and Sam just needed whatever he was tied to, because they didn't want to burn down the entire barn. If it came to that, however, they were prepared.

What they were not prepared for was George to put up such a fight, and Y/N is thrown into a snowdrift headfirst. She doesn't move, but Sam doesn't have time to check on her. He has to dig through the dirt covered things in the corners of the barn while dodging attacks until he finally finds a jacket, which he hopes is George's. Once it's burned and the spirit is taken care of, Sam is instantly on his way to Y/N.

"Y/N!" He yells, digging through the snow that she was buried in. He finally gets her out, unconscious but breathing, face flush from the cold. He touches her face with his bare hand, and he knows she is way too cold.

He picks her up and carries her the short distance to the car, then puts it in gear and drives as fast as he can through the snow to get back to the hotel. He blasts the heat, but Y/N doesn't move the entire ride and her face doesn't return to its natural color.

"Come on," He says to no one, carrying her to the room and putting her on the bed. He takes off her shoes and jacket before putting her under the blankets, then grabbing a small towel and running it under warm water. He puts it on her forehead, then kneels at her side, unsure of what to do.

He waits five minutes, then takes the towel off and throws it to the ground. She still isn't awake, but her face seems less pale and her hand, which is in his, is less cold. He tells himself it's to keep her warm, make sure she's not cooling down, but he knows why he's holding her hand.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, not knowing why he has to confess. He just feels the need, even if it won't help, even if she won't hear it. "I'm sorry I made you think that I hate you. I don't, I could never. In fact, I care about you more than I should. It's why I try not to talk to you, try not to get your attention. I don't want to get attached, in case something happened. I didn't think I could stand it if you didn't feel the same, or if you did feel the same but something happened. But now, something has happened, and I've wasted all this time ignoring you. I've wasted months of our lives because I was scared, and now I'm more terrified than I have ever been and it's all my fault. If we were able to talk to each other, if I had been able to at least be nice, maybe I could have prevented this." He's crying, and he can't believe he just poured his heart out to this unconscious woman. He feels so stupid, but just as he takes his hand away her's squeezes his fingers. His head whips to her face, where her eyes are finally open.

"Nothing could have prevented that." She tells him, and he can't help himself from hugging her tight. She hugs back, and when he leans away he has to ask.

"How much did you hear?" He's not sure what he wants the answer to be, not sure if he's prepared for it.

"All of it." She tells him honestly. "Well, everything after you saying that I hate you, but I think that was all of it. Which is wrong, ya know. I don't hate you." She smiles, scooting over. The room is a little chilly as Sam toes off his shoes and takes off his coat, sliding into bed next to her.

"That's good to know." He says, trying not to freak out. She puts her head on his chest, letting his arms come around her the same way they were when the two of them woke up that morning.

"I care for you a lot too. Even though I thought you hated me." She says, and he squeezes her.

"Yeah, let's not do that." He says, kissing her on the forehead. She nods, feeling warm in his arms even in the cold hotel room. The snow outside has started to turn into a storm, but neither of them could be bothered to care, too wrapped up in each other.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @lyarr24

[tubbytarchia]

Helo same anon from the chatfic thing! Its just that my friends really care about the cc's boundaries which i understand- but it makes me hold back in some topics

Cant even talk about gempearl without getting suspicious huehuehue

Well it still stands that Joel nor Jimmy give a fuck. If they did, they would say something and/or not engage in what they very well know functions as ship fuel. Gem and Pearl have also explicitly stated that shipping is fine if done with characters only. I'm sorry but your friends sound more like they have a white knight complex than care for the reality of the situation. These are grown adults. They're not gonna cry at ship art. Regarding them as if they need some teenagers to stand up for them shows that said teenagers have no faith in their favorite CCs' ability to handle situations that they are much wiser with as needed. They do mandate respect, but making up shit to defend them for is not that, it just hurts fandomgoers who aren't harming anyone so I think your friends need to get a dose of reality and chill out if they wanna stick by you. It's not a big deal and these people are wasting their time by turning it into one

No one gets to acknowledge that interactions like these continue to happen with no caveats and then attack people because "you're hurting Joel's feelings! :(("

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

your desi reader fics make me feel so seen 🥹 can I request an oscar x desi reader fic? maybe of them like watching a bollywood movie together bc I just know he’d ask a gazillion questions bc it doesn’t make sense but they’re not meant to follow logic bro just enjoy 😭

Just Pure Feeling -`♡´-

☾ op x desi!reader ༊*·˚

☾ fluff ༊*·˚

masterlist ☾☼

It was a cozy evening in your apartment. The low thrum of the ceiling fan and the smell of dinner you'd just had clung to the air. You sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by cushions in every colour imaginable, with the warm dimming of fairy lights softening the room.

Oscar was staring at the TV screen, seemingly befuddled; he had somehow found himself snuggled next to you. His usual biting wit and calm demeanor seem to have deserted him utterly.

The film? Ah, Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham—one of your favorites, the great family epic of love, drama, and much else more.

You glanced over at him, trying not to laugh. He was taking this whole Bollywood thing very seriously.

"Okay, so… let me get this straight," Oscar said, pausing the movie just as a dramatic scene of Shah Rukh Khan running across the airport flashed on the screen. “Why does he look like he’s running through a storm of rose petals?”

You laughed, taking the remote control from his hand and played the movie. "It's a Bollywood film, Oscar. It's not about the logic. It's about the emotions".

He blinked twice, eyebrows furrowed in incomprehension. "He's just… running? Like, why is he running in slow motion? And what's with the over-the-top background music? No one does this shit in real life".

"Oh, trust me. It's all part of the charm," you said with a grin, squeezing his arm. "It's the drama, the flair, the passion. It's what makes it special."

Oscar shook his head, still processing what he'd just witnessed. "But why is everyone crying so much? Like, for a movie that literally means 'sometimes happiness, sometimes sadness', I've only seen sadness till now. And why is everyone wearing these elaborate outfits for literally every occasion?"

"Because they're expressing their feelings, Oscar! Emotions are bigger than life here. And don't even get me started on the fashion—it's a cultural thing. The more bling, the better." You laughed at his confused expression. "You'll get used to it. It's about the spectacle."

He furrowed his brow, not satisfied. "Spectacle? The movie's just one melodrama after another! A huge family reunion, and now everyone's hugging… Did he just turn away from his family for years over a misunderstanding?"

You bit your lip to hold in a chuckle. "Yep. That's what makes it Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham — sometimes you have happiness, sometimes sadness. It's all about the grand emotional journey."

Oscar gazed at the screen a few more seconds, his eyes wide. "Okay, but how do they have the energy to sing and dance in the middle of a serious conversation? Like, how does that happen?"

"Bollywood logic," you shrugged, as if that explained everything. "People break into song in the middle of a heartfelt discussion. They could be talking about how to solve world peace, and suddenly it's a dance number. It's magic, Oscar."

He rubbed his temples, clearly trying to keep up with the plot, but at least, he was trying. "But… they just lost their son in a family feud. Why is there a dance number in the middle of a tragedy? This makes no sense!"

You laughed so hard that you had to pause the movie for a moment, clutching your stomach. "Because, Oscar," you said, voice still bubbling with laughter, "it's a Bollywood film. It's a rollercoaster of emotions. You go from crying your eyes out to dancing in the rain in the blink of an eye."

Oscar blinked again, his eyes flicking between the screen and you, as if trying to make sense of it all. "So, what you're saying is… it's not supposed to make sense?"

"Exactly. You're supposed to feel it."

"Well, I'm definitely feeling something," Oscar muttered under his breath. "I just don't know what it is."

"Good!" You smirk at him, flicking him lightly on the shoulder. "Now stop overthinking it and enjoy the ride."

Oscar sank back into the couch with a heavy sigh, surrendering himself to not knowing anything. And yet, you could see the curiosity in his eyes amidst the confusion. "Fine, fine. No reasoning. Just.. pure feeling. Got it."

As the movie played, you snuggled closer to him, feeling his arm instinctively wrap around your shoulders. You felt him press a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"He's so pretty," You murmured at one point.

"Who? The actor?" Oscar asked immediately, sitting up a little straighter.

You hadn't realised that you had said it out loud, but you supposed that he was going to find out eventually.

"Shah Rukh Khan. He's so pretty," Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched the actor go through his motions.

"You sound like you're in love with him," Oscar laughed, "Thank God, you're not, huh?"

You didn't respond, not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.

"You're not, right?" Oscar emphasised.

"Uh huh, sure. Of course I'm not, that'd be," you paused, sighing sadly, "stupid,"

Oscar shook his head. He didn't know what to say. His girlfriend had a crush on an actor that he was pretty sure had a wife and kids.

You had to admit, this was one of your favorite ways to share your world with him—watching him slowly come around to something so deeply ingrained in your culture, even if he couldn't fully grasp it yet.

A few moments later, when the screen changed to a song-and-dance number, Oscar let out a short laugh. "Alright, so, now they're all dancing on top of a moving car. Got it. Makes perfect sense."

You snorted. "Exactly! That's the spirit!"

You sat there side by side, watching the drama on the screen, but in the midst of it, something much more important was going on: the two of you were creating a beautiful little moment of your own. Not one that had to make sense, but one that simply existed, full of laughter, love, and the warmth of a shared experience.

And, hey, if Oscar cried at some point during the film, you were not supposed to know that. The usually emotionless man had lost the war with a simple Bollywood movie, and may have finally shed a tear or two.

And as the credits rolled, Oscar turned to you with a mock-serious expression. "Alright, I think I'm ready for the next one."

You grinned, already planning your next Bollywood movie marathon. It was clear that Oscar had a lot more questions to ask, but you had no doubt he'd be enjoying the journey every bit as much as you did.

"Get ready for Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge next," you said with a mischievous glint in your eye. "It's even more dramatic."

Oscar sighed dramatically, sinking into the couch. "This is going to be a long night."

And you wouldn't have it any other way.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

okay, im ngl, i like this op x desi!reader way more than the previous one. i think i'm getting the hang of writing oscar a little bit. let me know if y'all like this one! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @greantii ; @anamiad00msday ; @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @justaf1girl ; @peterholland04

[frudoo]

Gifts—Joe “Bear” Graves

It’s about TIIIME I write about my baby boy

Merry Christmas my loves!!!!

Warnings: SMUT. Alcohol consumption. Lingerie. Blowjob. Fingering. Unprotected PIV. Creampie ofc. Fem!Reader is fat. MDNI.

“Holy shit.”

Joe sounds breathless, cheeks and neck flushed crimson and a matching fire in his blue eyes. In front of the Christmas tree sits you, your soft body adorned with nothing but emerald green ribbon lingerie. Gorgeous and gift-wrapped, and all for him.

“Welcome home, Bear,” you grin teasingly, beckoning him over with a single crooked finger.

Like a dog to a bone, your husband falls to his knees before you, trembling hands stretching to get a feel of your supple, cedar-scented skin or, at the very least, the silk of your barely-there garment. You’re quick to stop him, fingernails gently digging into his wrists. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is a man not allowed to unwrap his own present?” Joe teases, working to shrug off his fatigue coat, still caked with sweat and grime from his latest mission.

“I have a different present for you, first,” you roll your eyes playfully before sliding another gift from beneath the tree—a decorative basket with an impressive bottle of aged bourbon and two glasses inside.

Joe’s eyes widen at the sight, and he laughs softly in disbelief as he holds the bottle in his hands, cradling it like it’s a sacred artifact.

“Baby, oh my- how much did this cost you?” He looks at you with such awe, appreciation, bright blue eyes twinkling in the dim light.

“Don’t worry about that,” you wave your hand dismissively, carefully taking the drink from him to pour him a glass.

Your husband shakes his head, but the wide smile on his face betrays the absolute joy that settles in the crevices of his mind. As he takes a sip, he hums in satisfaction, savoring the addictive burn that blossoms all the way from the tip of his tongue down to his belly. There’s a hint of smoke in the aftertaste, rich and bold.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, honey,” he nods, twirling the glass in his large hand before finally meeting your gaze. “You're not gonna drink any?”

“You know I don’t like bourbon,” You shrug, placing the bottle of alcohol back in the basket and pushing it away. “And anyway, I got the glasses customized just for you. It’d be wrong of me to drink out of them!”

“You’re my wife. What’s mine is yours,” Joe clicks his tongue, setting aside his drink. “But I digress.”

You giggle, standing from the cold wooden floor and outstretching your hand to help him do the same just so you can push him down onto the couch. He grunts when he hits the cushion, looking at you expectantly.

At your full height, the lingerie hides even less of your plush body. The set is little more than a vessel to hold the ribbons across your breasts and the sheer fabric that drapes just below your hips. You give Joe a little spin, biting your lip at the low groan that escapes him upon discovering the matching g-string that can barely be passed off as an undergarment. Calloused hands reach out to grab your waist, pulling you back onto his lap. His breath is hot against your neck as he peppers short, open-mouthed kisses there, greedy fingers traveling up to grope at your lush tits.

“Already got me so fuckin’ hard for you,” Joe’s voice rumbles against your sensitive skin, sending goosebumps rising all along your body.

“W-wait, I wanna…” you trail off, gently placing your palms on his thick, muscular thighs and slipping out of his grasp.

His chest rises and falls impatiently but he doesn’t say a word, his eyes following your every move as you drop to your knees in front of him, just as he’d done when he saw you. You waste no time before unbuckling his belt and unzipping his fatigue pants. Joe lifts his hips, expecting you to undress him completely, but quickly sits back down when you shake your head.

“No, please, leave them on,” you murmur breathlessly, batting your eyelashes up at him as you palm his aching cock through his boxers.

Joe nods, abiding by your wishes. You bite your lip as you release his dick from its confines, nearly moaning at the sight. He was right—he is so fucking hard, twitching and leaking salty beads of precum that coat his fat shaft and your fingertips. You’re salivating before you can even get a taste.

“Fuck, baby,” he grits his teeth eagerly. “I need you.”

Needing no more encouragement, you dive in, licking through the slit of his thick cockhead. Your husband immediately throws his head back with a prolonged groan at the contact, muscles tensing and relaxing in sync with every swirl of your hot tongue over his tip, down to his heavy balls and tracing back up along the plump vein at the base. He has to bite down on his fist when you finally wrap your lips around him to refrain from spilling down your throat too early.

“Yes, just like- oh fuck yeah, like that,” Joe moans, one hand wrapping around the back of your neck, his hold firm but not tight enough to hurt you.

You hum around his cock with every downward plunge, fondling his balls in one hand and bracing yourself on his thigh with the other. Your jaw pops when you lean forward to take him deeper, but the pain is quickly forgotten in favor of the blissful warmth in your mouth. You bury your nose in his pubes, swallowing him down to the back of your throat and holding yourself there until you gag.

“Baby, stop,” he gasps, cupping your clammy face in his hands and pulling you off of his dick with a wet pop. “Gonna make me cum.”

“Don’t you want to?” You pant, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and wiping away the drool and precum from your chin.

“Damn fuckin’ right I do, but not like this. C’mere,” Joe helps you off of your knees and pulls you into his lap, his lips pressing against yours desperately. “You wet for me?”

You confirm his suspicions with a muttered yes, mouth never leaving his. He tastes like the expensive bourbon you gifted him, deep and musky. He tastes like home.

“Lift your hips, honey,” he whispers, grinning softly when you comply.

Pushing aside your g-string, two of his thick fingers swipe through the dew of your slit and he moans in approval, pressing them into your entrance slowly. You keen, resting your forehead against his, gripping onto the sides of his standard green shirt with clenched fists. Joe curls his fingers to press against the sensitive patch inside of you, one strong arm wrapping around your waist when you try to flinch away. He nuzzles his nose against yours, pumping into you with more vigor. You shake your head, grabbing at his wrist to pull his hand away.

“Baby-”

“Don’t need your fingers, Joe, just need you,” you frown.

He searches your eyes for a moment, and finding no hesitation, nods. Joe pulls you in for another intoxicating kiss, nipping at your bottom lip at the same time he slides home inside of you. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, fingernails digging into his shoulders to ground yourself.

“I know. I know, honey, but you can take it all the way. You always do, don’t you? Always take it so fuckin’ well for me,” he coos, watching in awe at the way you arch your back and brave the stretch.

It doesn’t take long to get used to the feeling, all too familiar with the way your body molds itself to fit him perfectly. You rock back and forth slowly to let him know that you’re ready.

“Atta girl,” your husband praises, rough hands settling on the fat of your hips.

Joe plants his boots flat on the wooden floor, his lap giving you a sturdy seat to work with. You raise your hips and come back down at a steady pace, holding onto the sides of his thick neck for support. Your thumb rubs over his Adam's apple and he growls, pulling you down on him harder. The filthy slap that echoes throughout the living room when your ass meets his solid thighs makes the both of you moan in sync.

“Ride that dick. C’mon, baby, it’s yours, so use it,” he huffs, looking into your eyes so intensely you think you might evaporate.

Still, you eagerly comply, your knees digging into the couch cushions as you roll your hips at a dizzyingly quick pace. Your tits bounce with the haste of your motions, nearly slipping right out of your lingerie. Joe decides that he’s sick of being denied his favorite sight and tugs on the ribbons, pupils dilating at the sight of your pretty pebbled nipples now exposed to his hungry gaze. He takes one breast into his hand and ducks his head down, sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth with a delighted groan. Your pace falters in the midst of the new sensation, so Joe bucks his hips up to help you out.

“Joe, I can’t- can’t do this anymore,” you hiccup, legs burning from exertion.

“That’s okay,” he grunts, hands moving to cup your ass before he stands, chuckling at the little gasp you let out. “Just hold onto me, baby, I’ll get us there.”

You nod and hold onto him for dear life, burying your face in the crook of his sweaty neck. Sometimes you forget how strong he is, but it’s in moments like these he reminds you—effortlessly suspending you in the air and bouncing you on his cock like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He presses his cheek to the top of your head as he fucks you, and despite the brutal pace with which he pounds into you, it’s obvious that he absolutely adores you.

“You’re close,” he observes through clenched teeth, his hips stuttering as your walls clamp down on him tightly. “Gonna cum with me?”

“Yeah,” you whine, tightening your arms around his neck.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” he growls, fingertips digging into the fat of your ass almost painfully.

He thrusts a few more times before reaching his peak, thick ropes of cum flooding your womb and triggering your own orgasm. You bite down on his neck as he rides out the high, oversensitive but euphorically so. Sweat and breaths mingle as he carefully lowers you to the ground on wobbly legs, keeping you steady with his hands on your waist. The two of you share a moment of silence before busting out into gentle chuckles.

“I think I ruined your pants,” you giggle, gesturing toward the wet spot on his cargos.

“I don’t care,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you long and slow.

[moregraceful]

made it one (1) cookie into christmas day cookie baking without a standmixer before i went this cannot stand, and now i have had my finger on the launch button of my shopping cart on the kitchenaid website for 45 minutes. an interesting thing about me is i will buy a customized jersey for $250+ without thinking twice, but then i look at a kitchenaid stand mixer and i'm like no i couldn't POSSIBLY...it is EXTRAVAGANT... even though a stand mixer will easily get more use on a consistent basis than um. z.ach h.yman leafs jersey. &tc

livejournal posting on the microblogging website

having a very nice christmas so far. i am spending it alone and earlier this week i spent about 10 minutes feeling sorry for myself about it, and then said WHAT the fuck am i doing. to wake up on christmas morning and not want to kill myself is going to be the greatest gift. and made a plan to make cookies and a sheet pan dinner that my family hates but that i love. and you know what, i did not wake up and feel like ending it all, and even though i am having immense cookie struggles, i feel better than i have in years. i like building traditions. it's fun.

talked to my sister and her husband this morning and while i always feel better about everything after talking to them, today was especially nice because her husband got on the phone whipped the fuck about their neighbor's kid or kids hiding musical instruments on their property. he was like you've worked extensively with teenagers, PLEASE explain why a teenager would do something this bizarre. and it's nice when i can be of help to them these days bc they spent so much of winter and spring trying to convince me not to gaslight myself into thinking any of it was normal or survivable. it's nice to be like, ok now i am in a safe space so i can offer my infinite wisdom. also very funny to be the teenager whisperer of the family. the three of us worked through the issue and landed on a solution that didn't involve my sister's husband narcing on the kid to their very strict and religious parents about instrument-playing lol. and that made me feel good bc we are several thousand miles away from each other but we're still very present in each other's lives.

i don't know it's being christian or if it's just spending a lot of years way too drunk on new year's eve to hashtag cope and waking up on jan 1 hungover as hell like goddammit not this shit (being alive) again. but this year christmas day feels like more of the start of a new year. i think about goal-setting and trying new things to inhabit my life more vividly and today feels like more of a place to start. like the light is here and i am too etc. this is a long-winded way saying that my 2025 goal is to take more pictures bc while i do love to live in the moment, i DON'T love that i have next to no pictures of the people i love or the things that i have enjoyed seeing or the creations i have made. not to be a Instagram Poster, but it's like i would love to remember what my internet friends' faces look like. or that cool rock i saw in someone's yard... i don't have to always live in the moment about rocks and friends it's ok to be like, i am enjoying this moment and i want simple proof that it existed beyond my memory.

and i have just tried both cookies i made and they are both very strange experiences that did not really spark joy so i am going to stare intently at the kitchenaid site for another hour

[koi-p0nd]

Came at the speed of gay for Anya! If I may, can I ask for a reader who’s the copilot instead of Jambalaya and is just a happy go lucky but overly curious ray of sunshine who has a mad crush on Anya? No crash and they offer to let Anya to be their roommate when they’re back. Thank you so much!!

Imma see what I can do!! (And hope you don't mind that I still had Jimmy in this but with a different kind of occupation and a little bit more inspired from the Nice Jimmy AU :p)

"Sunshine Eyes and Moonlit Smiles."

Before boarding the Tulpar.

After having met everyone a few days before boarding the ship, somewhat aquintanced with eachother and whatnot. Learning eachothers different titles.

Curly as the Captain.

You as the Co-Pilot.

Anya as the Nursa.

Jimmy as the Tech/Machinery Mechanic.

Swansea as the Tech/Electrician.

And Daisuke as the Tech/Electrician Intern.

After boarding the Tulpar.

Everyone took their time getting comfortable and all, settling in with their things in their rooms/cabins. Getting familiar of the Tulpars layout.

Not many of you bothered to actually socialize the first few days, other than Daisuke talking with everyone and Curly occasionally asking for help or handing out the days tasks and/or chores.

As the time went on, around a few weeks or a month so did all 6 actually start to spend time and get to know eachother.

But you already knew Jimmy and Curly from before, so you kind of hung out with them more than the others at first.

It was all decent and such, but you had caught some sort of interest in Anya without even realising it.

Poor poor you, Jimmy and Curly would quickly understand that you were crushing on the nurse without knowing it.

They're going to tease the ever living shit out of you for it.

Fr on god.

Relationship with Anya.

It started off as just familiars with one another at first.

Occasional small talk in the halls and cafeteria/lounge during breaks.

Got to know eachother a little more over time and bonded to be friends during the game nights that Curly had with the whole crew.

You actually found her as an oddly funny, outgoing and interesting lady, but still kept for herself and exhausted.

Fuck, you hated being down bad for women like that.

And without even knowing that you were down bad for women like Anya, you just fell for her. Head over heels puppy love style, minus the constant clinginess.

Jimmy and Curly is teasing you about this, even after realising your feelings about Anya.

Swansea had noticed this as well but chose to not make any comments, thinking that he's "too old to make jabs at others" regarding their persons of interests.

Daisuke were thankfully oblivious.

But now you were scared of ruining your friendship with her by confessing your feelings to her.

Lets just say that Curly (with your permission) had dropped a slight hint about your crush to her instead of you.

You would just be a nervous mess and talk about something else entirely.

Long Nights with Anya on the Tulpar.

You and Anya would often sit on the couch in the lounge, looking at the night time window screen and quietly talk about life.

It became sort of a routine by now. When both couldn't sleep, one would find the other in the small kitchen area and just decide to talk about random things untill exhaustion came.

Tonight was particularly rough. The day had been long, boring and a few but extremely tideous tasks.

Due to your tiredness, not noticing how the words had slipped passed your lips and broke the quite atmosphere.

"Hey, Anya? This might sound...weird and unprofessional, being colleagues and all... But I've had these feelings for you lately..."

Your face were a deep red, brain restirging what you just said.

Anya would just sit there, a little awkwardly and very caught off guard by your sudden confession.

You just muttered a quick apology and a silent good night berofe running off in embarrasment.

After the Sudden Confession.

Things between you two were a little awkward, but not noticeable to the others.

That was untill the raven haired woman had cornered you in the Medical Room one day and confronted you about it.

It took a few hours for you to be able to actually leave.

But things were no longer tense, and you were kinda giddy.

The tiny fuzzy feeling of that peck on your cheek stayed the whole two days afterwards.

You didn't dare tell anyone about this, so it was just a little secret between you and Anya.

Coming Back to Earth.

You had thought about asking Anya to be your roomate once you guys got off, but she beat you to it.

She asked you that instead, with that warm cozy smile of hers that you just can't resist. So you eagerly accepted her offer.

Not long after, you two shared a small but decent and cozy apartment together in a downtown area with cozy shops and cafes.

Anya would often times just stare into your eyes, always questioned by you as to why and would give the same answer or similar ones.

"Your eyes looks like a sunrise in early october."

October is her favourite season of the year. And to hear your eyes looking like a sunrise around that time always made you feel all putty and warm inside.

Bonus!

You two eventually started dating after a few months.

Anya miraculously got into a nearby nursing school while you got a job at a nearby restaurant.

So you would earn in the money for your halfs of the rent, bills and foods while Anya payed the other half with her study loans.

Once Anya graduates from nursing school and saved up enough money (this is like, a few years of dating), she started to plan yours two wedding. And how she's gonna propose for you.

You two had a small little venue and wedding, having invited the crew and some very close family members.

You two also got a sphynx and mainecoon.

Absolute couch potatoes and food motivated.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Because it is currently hailing in my area, how would the main 10 skeletons react to experiencing their first hail storm on the surface?

( I know you are currently on Christmas break and I was planning on waiting till the 26 of December at least to ask but I am very forgetful so I had to ask before it slipped my mind hope you enjoy your Christmas though🎄)

Undertale Sans - He thought someone threw a small rock behind his head or something, but by the time he looks up to the sky, hundreds of tiny ice balls fell on his skull. Sans is confused and a bit scared and teleports back to his home where he feels safe. He immediately searches online about what the hell this is, and he's relieved when he sees it's normal. He's happy he didn't stay outside though. That hurts.

Undertale Papyrus - "MY CAR!!!!" Papyrus is screaming, trying to cover his car with his own body to protect it from whatever is falling from the sky. Well. That's not very effective, and his car still ends with a ton of impacts and now he's losing his mind, insulting the sky with all he has. Everyone is staring, wondering what the hell is that monster doing. He's so mad! He did nothing wrong, why the hell is the sky attacking him?!

Underswap Sans - It happened while he was chasing some criminal. Blue stops dead in his tracks, wondering if he got shot or something. ... How do you know if you're dead? Will he know if he even died? He was in the middle of an existential crisis when the hail started to fall for real, making him completely panicky. What's going on? Is he under attack? He's so confused. ... Wait, where's the guy he was chasing? Shit! He forgot!

Underswap Papyrus - He's not too sure what's going on, and he doesn't know if he really wants to know what going on. He crawls on the floor of his living room to his window and glances outside nervously. The floor is white like it's snowing, but everyone outside is screaming like they're getting murdered. Is the snow dangerous now? Should he block the doors? He decides to call his brother for help just in case.

Underfell Sans - He growls angrily and starts to look everywhere who attacked him. When his eyes fell on a random man, he grabs a rock and throws it at his face, pissed off. The guy turns around, NOT HAPPY, and asks what the hell is his problem. That's when it starts to hail and Red realizes he messed up big with a guy doing three times his size. Welp. He's out of here. He teleports the hell out of here.

Underfell Papyrus - He grabs Frisk by the head, lifts them above his head and runs for his life. He has no idea what's going on but if the kid has a scratch, Toriel will have his head and he doesn't want to die. He squeaks when he realizes he's covering himself with Frisk and that Frisk is taking all of the hits for him. Omg, he's so dead. He doesn't know what the hell is happening, but that thing falling from the sky just made a mortal enemy.

Horrortale Sans - He is standing still under the hail storm, kinda paralyzed and weakly asking for help. His head is full of ice. It hurts. He is scared to move to take it off in case it's something that will hurt him. He guesses he's just going to stand there and wait for someone to notice he's dying on the inside or something.

Horrortale Papyrus - He is offended. He was just singing to himself outside and apparently, the sky hates his singing so much it started to throw ice at him. He flips both his birds at the sky. No one will stop him. He will keep singing, and now he will do it even louder!

Swapfell Sans - He is standing guard while Toriel is taking cover inside some shop. She forbid him to go inside in case someone wants to kill her, so he is still under the hail storm, looking miserable. A random kid even finds him so pitiful they come to give him an umbrella and gently pat his hand to show some support. It's too late though. He's entirely wet and he's probably going to get sick for days by now. Stupid weather. Stupid queen. Stupid job. He won't stop complaining.

Swapfell Papyrus - He doesn't know what's going on but he was bored, not knowing what to do to piss off his brother today. He opens all the doors and windows and stares as the house slowly fills with ice, a big smile on his face. He can't wait for everything to melt!

Fellswap Gold Sans - He doesn't think much about this. It's just a weird weather. It uses to rain all the time in Waterfall and no one ever think it's weird. You're not special with your weird human weather. What will these ice balls do to him anyway? Wet him? Oooh, he's scared. That's so lame. Not ten minutes later, he's throwing a temper tantrum because there's a hole in the roof and he can't stop the hail storm just by screaming really loud.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He was thinking about some ice cream when a random ball of ice fell at his feet. Uh. He picks it up and licks it, then shrugs. Wait, does it mean he has a superpower now? That's so cool! He lifts his two arms in the air and screams "ICE CREAM" and suddenly it starts to rain ice balls everywhere! He was so happy at first, but then the ice balls started growing bigger and crashing on his skull and now he's just running for his life, apologizing for using his power too much to whatever entity gave it to him. He's sorry, please stop hitting him!

[tracklessreason]

Hello again, and happy holidays!

In light of your more recent post about seeker trines, I was curious to know what Skywarp and Thundercracker plan on doing after Starscream is banished in your Hive Prime AU.

How do they feel about his banishment? or his torture? or just him in general? Do they join his little group of decepticon rebels, or do they continue to serve Megatron with no issues? And what type of trine do the three of them belong to? I feel like that info might give us a better grasp on their relationship.

Sincerely, beep bop boop beep bop

Great question!

They're dead.

Yeah...killed in the war. They were his Blood Trine, and after their death, Starscream never joined another Trine. At that point in the timeline, there were so few seekers left that it could take centuries to find any who hadn't already scraped together their own Mourning Trine, but that's not why Starscream refrained.

He remained flightless (my term for lone seekers) out of ego. No other seekers were good enough in his eyes.

Its not what his brothers would have wanted for him, but as much as he misses them, he never cared much for their opinions, and only after they were dead was it really clear to outsiders that he even gave a shit about them. Don't worry though, Thundercracker and Skywarp knew he cared. Blood related seekers are especially sensitive to each other after all.

Which is what complicates the matter if they had been alive during the Hive Prime AU. His brothers were significantly more reasonable than him, and would have tried talked him out of killing Optimus if he'd given them the opportunity, but really they would only find out he was the one who did it by sensing his emotional state afterward.

They wouldn't have told Megatron though, for Starscream's sake. Nonetheless, they thought it was idiotic of him to try seizing power in that way, and resigned themselves to leave him to whatever consequences he'd brought on himself.

It was...not easy to do nothing when they felt Starscream's surprise, then fear, then rage and agony in the fight with Megatron. They were however convinced Megatron wouldn't go so far as to kill their brother and, thanks to Hive, they were right.

A bit of a rift happened when they found out he'd been banished. Skywarp wanted to leave with Starscream. Thundercracker was still loyal to Megatron, and believed that with time his brother would be brought home. He ended up the only one of the three still with the Decepticons, keenly aware of Starscream moving in the dark, but unwilling to move in favor of him or Megatron.

Upon finding out Megatron and Hive want to end the war, Thundercracker does leave, not to join his brothers, but to try and bring them home. He wants the war to end. To grow old with his trine mates who he's so very lucky to still have, if all the Mourning Trines around him are anything to go off.

Skywarp jumps at the chance. Starscream stubbornly refuses. Skywarp leaves with Thundercracker.

Only after losing his wings is Starscream open to reason. Not because he's changed his mind, but because there isn't much his unconscious form can do to stop his trine mates from dragging him to the home they've built for themselves in a city slowly recovering from the war.

While Starscream was starting scraps with the few fighters left, his brothers had been permitted to leave the force, and began a life for themselves, far from the front lines, and farther from Megatron. Starscream has no choice but to stay with his brothers and revel in the luxuries a life without war provides. Good medics stop in from time to time, and slowly but surely rebuild Starscream's wings. He voices no thanks, but his brothers can feel how the rage fades from him with time, and is slowly, very slowly, replaced with calm and content.

Its a shame they weren't alive for this ending to come to pass...

(Happy Holidays and enjoy the angst!)