#HAHA I stole your tag /silly

[xfriki26]

Animation practice with Hatchetcannibal for @lolipoptheclown !

They mean so much to me... /silly

Idividual frames and full page under the cut:

[drawlody]

My list of Adam ships♡ n my opinion bout them (also fics rec :D) (old)

Adam x Luicfer (Adamsapple/Duitarduck) 10/10

Need i say more:)))??!?! started out as a "haha funny slip-up ship" to "hey they got really good angst potential". The friends/lovers to enemies to lovers is STRONG with this one n i am eating up everything i could found on ao3. Smth bout this macho-ass man finally getting to stay back n not take charge for once feel nice, also princess Adam supermacy wooooo. Whoever came up with the ship name i applaud u cause that's like a 3 layers name(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

It's not an Adamsapple fic without Adam having at least 1 mental breakdown n Lucifer have his guilt eating him alive:)))

Very fucked up torture but i swear it worth the pain:D The dove is so dead it start to rot so plz read the tags properly (plz check out the AngeliaDark other works too they got good shit)

This one have a splits so check out both the fics (beware the author have a skrewed sense of what is considered wholesome:))))

I didnt think a smut scene could be this sad

Adam x Lute (Guitarspear/Guardrock) 10/10

Litteraly my first Hazbin ship, assholes in love is an underrated dynamic we desperately need more off:))) That with a dash of evil dude x loyal subordinate (which i havent seen since the Deathglare days) n opposite attract (look they have one main thing in common is that their extreme bloodthirst, other than that she's stricter than ur mom n he's lazier than the Sloth ring itself but that the beauty of it no? He convince her to chill tf out n not to burst a blood vessel, she keep him on track n make sure Sera dont come on their asses)

They're just being silly enabling each other terrible behaviour n i love that for them (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) Litteral besties i tell ya

Heavy non-con shit involving Val but Lute will revenge our boi i promised u that

Cool idea n they r just made for each other damn

First hazbin fic i read which is a really cool smut:D

Adam x Micheal (we need a ship name people ) (update: it's Songbird/Guitarhero) 10/10

I like how we dont even got a proper comfirmation of Micheal design/personality yet the ship is here already ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ( im using the Nakariiale's design as a base here love their design)

Hit me with that rebound love x "u look like my ex so im using u as a replacement but ill fall for the real u eventually" x co-workers in heaven. I'm thinking smth along the line of "after Lucifer fucked off with Lilith, Micheal became Adam guardian angel n they just hang out" ya feel me here? (✿◕���◕✿)

Shout out to Bloog_b for dragging me into this ship:DDD also im on the Adam x the archangels ship as a "gotcha" to Lucifer of sort. Like bitch u stole my wives imma steal your brotherS

Look it's Adamsapple endgame but trust me u will be feed well on this ( u know how good u gotta be for people to ditch the main ship?)

I'm giving yall 4 fics here cause i can only found 4 rn(._. )

this one is uhh non-con so beware

Micheal is indeed Adam guardian angel in this one:D

Adam x Eve (Flowertunes) 8/10

I dont care what yall said they love each other throughout Eden n Earth , might have a falling out in heaven but that doesnt change the fact that they were once IN LOVE. Honestly why cant we just have a couple that have the same bright-eyed innocence like one another.I refuse to believe Eve like willingly cheat on Adam with malicious intent n all, simply she was indeed ''tricked'' or just not fully understand the sistuation, n Adam love her way too much to think that she would do that to him like Lilith. Hell the dude was heartbroken after L left , starting the abandonment issues, so he would have cling to Eve, doing everything so that he aint alone again, even if that mean leaving Eden

Honestly it pisses me off that the Adam/Eve tag on ao3 most of the time is just 1 dialouge between them back when Eve bit the apple n thats it no elaboration on the couple whatsoever >:(((

Lots of switcharoos

sinner eve woooo

look its hard trynna find a fic focusing on them ok?

Adam x St. Peter (Guitargreeter (bet ya didnt see that coming:))) 7/10

Base on this fanfic alone Joe my dude u r on the path of becoming THE Adam crack-ship writer n i am here for this:)))) just so u wait this dude gonna whip out a AdamxNifty , AdamxHusk fic later on ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

From within the fic itself the ship its 2 bros in love with homophobia standing in the way >:( also when did we have a name?!?!?!?

I just like Adam x anyone in heaven alright:D like bro famous n he got that ancient rizz, u telling mr he cant bag a hottie or 2-100+ hmm?

Adam x Alastor (Angelicradio) 8/10

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT ABOUT THEM THAT I SHIP I JUST DO φ(゜▽゜*)♪ i blame YOU honestly rn this ship is either Adam found Al after the fight n they make a deal or they're in heaven n they chillin this ship is confusing:D

They're angels on heaven

Adam gone back into eden n do shit differently

This is both Adam/Eve n Adam/Alastor kinda

Adam x Alastor x Lucifer (Angelicradioapple/ Charlie's dads (only me call them that lol)) 9/10

''Hey Charlie u know how u r sad that your mother left? Wellllllll i got you 2 new dads suprise:DDDD''

Look 3 miserable men who hate each other + hell's greatest dad + my love for Dadam = Messy ass old men yaoi :DDDD n it work perfectly with Alastor Asexuality too!!! Like Adam n Lucifer could fuck each other brains out before Al joining in for the cuddles lol

Chaos ensue

Not exactly a love triangle but a love corner but hey we barely got food here :D

I cant believe how hot this shit is lol

Adam x Eve x Lilith x Lucifer (Eden poly/ applecore?) 8/10

They could have been all married to each other(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ But as much as i go "OooOooo Poly yay'' i just cant vibe with EvexLucifer, like the cheating vibes is wayyyyyyyyy too much i just cant man . I mean with the interpetation that Lucifer came to Eden to hang out with the humans they all know eachother, they're a throuple yes but BUT when Eve came into the picture it was only with Adam n him only so the other 2 is ehhhh. Im fine with EvexLilith cause im seeing it happening later, not hidden from Adam while LuciferxEve got that deception going on .So uhhh in this ship they're more like bestie than lovers to me¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also AdamxLilith is an underrated pairing like everytime i saw this applecore thing going on these 2 r at most tolerate each other like cmonnnnn we already twist this to hell n back, why cant we make it so their arguement was a petty non-malicious one n they still cares for each other hmm???

They're one happy family

IDK what to tell u bittersweet reunion n loving family is the only typa fic u get with this ship

Not that im complaining i need this wholesomeness

Adam x Mammon (Adammon/Madam/Greedyguitar/ 1st chirstmas.... hasnt had an offical name yet) 10/10

They r litteraly same person different font idk what to tell u. More insults thrown around than Guitarspear but they're pretty similar. Adam is just " sinners suck ass but this dude is the worst in the best way". Also they're both big bois (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧ , they love towering over others

I'm sorry but there r barely BARELY

any fics of them :(

The art side is more plentiful tho :D

Adam x Angel Dust (Holydust/guitardust) 5/10

THEY ARE BESTIES YOUR HONOUR n that the exact reason why i cant see them be together as a couple 100%, like the shit-talking bff vibes r wayyyy too strong XD Angel finally got someone who have the same vulgar humour as him n if Adam got married in hell Angel would 100% be his best bitch of honour (≧∀≦)ゞq(≧▽≦q)

They're best friends who have casual no-string attached sex that is ACTUALLY no-string attached:)))

I came to ship them due to those "What if they're co-workers under Val' scenarios ive been seeing on Tumblr

I got like 1 fic on ao3 i mean if u r looking for just platonic friendship between them then rest asure most Adam's redemption fics have that

I got 1 fic on tumblr

Adam x Charlie (Charadam/Guitarprincess) 5/10

U know this ship give me a pretty bad first impression since a good chunk of the fics r either heavy non-con shit or lean wayyyyy to much into the daddy kink, ya know how Charlie got suppose daddy issues n all that jazz?:))) yeah that... that

But after seeing the art side of this ship im chillin with them now, since the art r pretty wholesome, usually having them decked out in punk-rock clothings hanging out. It's a big "Fuck you" to Lucifer n i live for these mf argueing ╰(*°▽°*)╯

So uhhh stay away from the fics if ya want an actual functional couple instead of wtv messed up shit we got there:))) But here's a fic anyway, the only one where it feel bearable n actual trynna go into said messed up relationship i already warn you

We got cracks like Guitarmaid (AdamxNifty), Valadam (AdamxVal) which i dont have enough materials to decied, Classicalrock (AdamxSera) sound interesting but also havent found anything , Guitarhalo (AdamxEmily) is an unexpected find, find i deem them to be more familial than romantic so we'll see if there's a fic good enough to convince me

Edit:i forgot to add Blitzo like Mammon already there why did i forgot

Adam x Blitzo (i dont think anyone even ship this but me:)) 7/10

I cant find a single fic where they has anything more than a 1 nightstand n 1 interaction where they hit it off , i live off imagination alone (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) but like fr fr they would match so well, like their bloodlust n general jerkiness would make them the 3rd asshole x asshole ship on this list :DDDD

Tho as much as i wanna see them go further i feel like an on-n-off relationship/friends with benefits fit em more ya know ( *^-^)ρ(*╯^╰) If ya have any fic but the 2 here that have them interact lemme know cause a bitch need food :)

This is a lot of tag(._. )

[lostfirefly]

WIP

Thank you for the tag @be-not-afraid-gg for Wip-Wednesday. Let it be Wip-Friday :)

Most works do not yet have a title, and the draft may be slightly rewritten.

Welcome under the cut!

Buggy x Reader

Buggy got sick

Reader: Could you please stop whining, Buggy! You're driving me crazy already, otherwise I'll pour soup into your bed

2. Draft name "In the morning - Reader" (another attempt to write nsfw, hehe)

3. Daddy Buggy!

He and the reader have a daughter who brings her boyfriend to the ship to meet her father.

-Why is he holding her hand? -Jesus, Buggy. She's 18! -And what? That doesn't give him the right to hold her hand!

4. Sad Buggy (reader decided to leave him).

I love you, my silly clown, but I want to make you sad :)

5. Buggy is looking for a reader (this idea came to me into the dream, where I was kidnapped and Jeff was looking for me).

6. Reader's birthday!

7. Buggy's birthday

8. Buggy is trying to safe a reader (another dream where Jeff almost asked Avengers to help him. haha)

Buggy Bear x Cathie-pie

The bowling fic (it will be posted soon) - long fic, about 5000 words

Buggy screwed up and Catherine demanded to take her to the bowling club

"What? Afraid I’ll ruin you? You chickened out?" Buggy cackled.  "I never chicken out, you brute. How many points do we play for?” She crossed her arms.

2. After the airport (nsfw)

Catherine decided to stay in Cairo because she understood that she fell in love with Buggy. Now you will see what I see in my head after chapter 10 of my original Egyptian series :) First sex, Buggy is confused and overthinking.

"Oh fuck!" Catherine quickly pulled out some tissues and wiped her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. "My silly clown."  "I'm listening, my Cathie-pie." Buggy placed his chin on the top of her head.  "Take me home, please."

3. After the prison (fun).

Catherine takes Buggy, Cabaji and Mohji from the prison they ended up in after drinking and forces all three of them to clean their apartment.

"In my defense, I stole the cake for you, baby." He chuckled. “But this nice lady took it away.” He nodded towards the officer.  “Oh, thank you! You stole the fucking cake for me. You are so caring! Should this make me feel better, idiot?” 

4. Catherine is sad, because today is her parents' death anniversary (angst + fluff).

Buggy decided to stay with her to cheer her up

"Do you regret anything in life? For example, that you once didn’t leave one red-haired girl in the desert and in the end she stayed with you?" “No, I don’t regret this at all.” Buggy was silent for about five minutes, stroking her back. "Swimming." 

5. Catherine will help him with makeup (pure fluff and fun).

Catherine happily bounced her feet, squealed softly, and dipped the brush into the powder. Sticking out her tongue, she ran the brush over his face with concentration.  "That's it... Yes? Look!"  "Oh my god!" Buggy looked at himself in the mirror and saw his face covered in a thick layer of white powder. "What is it? Cotton candy, let me ask you, how old were you when you were wearing makeup?" 

6. One day or another he is gonna ask her the main question (this fic was written a long time ago). After the story with Larnie our blue-haired boy put this idea aside.

7. They are gonna meet her aunt (two chapters)

8. And they will also assemble the bed!

9. Buggy b-day

10. Their first date (after nsfw)

11. Catherine will meet Cabaji for the first time

12. Catherine will visit Buggy's show for the first time

There's a good chance we'll celebrate Buggy's birthday twice! With the reader and Catherine.

Also I want to try to write a fic, which was inspired by our text messages with @gingernut1314.

Sanji x Reader (pure fluff) are cooking dinner

No pressure tags: @tiredemomama and @operationroots

[faultyconscience]

⋆ NAME?: Dani/Danielle

⋆ PRONOUNS?: she/her

⋆ MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?: atm emma swan, clearly, but rum and remus are my next two most active muses who are always the most alert

⋆ RP PET PEEVES?: hmmm. idek honestly. my biggest is probably when ppl are inflexible. like if i'm trying to plot or smth and it feels like they're just not willing to meet halfway, that's annoying. like if a plot doesn't work or smth or doesn't fit ur character, that's fine, i get that but like work w/me on it? some feedback so we can sort it y'know? just getting a 'no my character wouldn't do that' or 'no you're character can't know that' w/o some further work on both sides is just not it.

⋆ EXPERIENCE / HOW MANY YEARS?: i think i started in about college-ish (in the ouat fandom hhahaha and here i am still) so like fuck 12ish years or so now.

⋆ FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT?: there's a time and a place for all of these things haha. i do love me some angst tho but love for angst to lead to fluff as well. smut....meh. i love discussing those aspects w/ship partners and how their sex lives are bc it is often an important aspect of things but if i write anything it's more memes than threads.

⋆ PLOTS OR MEMES?: i think they go hand in hand. like i don't need some big elaborate plot to get things going. u could just come @ me w/something super simple and just a random thought of our how muses would interact and i will roll w/it. details are irrelevant lmao. so that's why i'm a big fan of memes to start interactions that turn into threads bc it cuts out a lot of the thought process and just gets to 'what would these two do in x situation' but things also go so much better if there's ongoing communication about stuff :)

⋆ LONG OR SHORT REPLIES?: i'm a big fan of reply length being whatever length is necessary to get the job done. sometimes less really is more. sometimes more is needed. doing either just for the sake of it seems silly. i don't mind writing a huge reply and getting a smaller one back if there's still enough to work w/and that's all that's necessary. i don't want filler just so our reply lengths match.

⋆ TIME TO WRITE?: whenever i have the most actual work to do apparently.

⋆ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S)?: hmmm. in some ways yeah, w/some muses more than others. like there's probs bits of me in most/all of them and my most active muses are the ones i'd say i relate to the most which is why they're active haha

tagged by: i stole it from row but also was tagged by @lunawish

tagging: @heartlesshuntsman @g1rlmyth @enchantedxhearts @screwhope @villainmade @inmydrcams & whoever wants to do it!

[ao3feed-tf2ships]

Just some speeding bullet fluff oneshots :3

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51934369

by JereTheSilly

Free therapy.

Words: 31, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Scout (Team Fortress 2), Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Soldier (Team Fortress 2), Engineer (Team Fortress 2), Demoman (Team Fortress 2), Spy (Team Fortress 2), Heavy (Team Fortress 2), Medic (Team Fortress 2), Pyro (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Scout/Sniper (Team Fortress 2)

Additional Tags: Scout Is A Little Shit (Team Fortress 2), Fluff, Genderfluid Pyro (Team Fortress 2), Trans Male Scout (Team Fortress 2), It's my story so I get to choose the headcanons haha stay mad, The offense classes are silly (Team Fortress 2), Minor Soldier/Zhanna (Team Fortress 2), Spoiler alert Scout is a hat thief (Team Fortress 2), Scout exploded a microwave (Team Fortress 2), Plot twist Scout wrote this fanfic and is living in your walls, Silly, Written by a silly author, Author Is Sleep Deprived, author is acoustic, Author needs chicken nuggies, author projecting onto scout, Author IS Scout, Author stole your kneecaps

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51934369

[iersei]

yay thank you for the tag! (and to @locke-n-k3y and @radisyn who also tagged me, i feel so loved haha)

1. Are you named after anyone?

i stole my chosen name from a yugioh character, so technically yeah?

2. When was the last time you cried?

i don't think there's been a day this last week that i didn't tear up over hermie. but full on cry? i genuinely never remember when that happens to me lol

3. Do you have kids?

i have my OCs <3

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

i played soccer for a good chunk of my life! i'd probably still be playing now if i had people to play with haha - (i played defender/defensive midfielder!)

5. Do you use sarcasm?

i'll use sarcasm if i think it's funny, but now that i think about it, i don't tend to use it much at all :0

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

general clothing style i suppose?

7. What's your eye color?

brown, but the kind that's so dark it almost looks black

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

yes. one of my favorite things ever is when stories are spooky and unnerving but ultimately full of love.

9. Any talents?

i think my sheer ability to commit to the bit as hard as i can could be classified as a talent at this point.

10. Where were you born?

who's to say i didn't just spawn into existence one day

11. What are your hobbies?

art (as in illustrations, comic-making, silly little doodles) is the easy one, but i've been trying to get into crocheting recently too! i've also been meaning to get into writing more often -

12. Do you have any pets?

no, but i want to one day -

13. How tall are you?

5'4" (maybe 5'5" depending on who you ask?)

14. Favorite subject in school?

i think i tend to like my english classes the most!

15. What is your dream job?

i want to make graphic novels so fucking bad you have no idea -

and yeah :D !!!

uhhh i will tag @hey-its-puddlesock @flowercrowns-n-punks @yourpersonaltimebomb @astro-inthestars @cute-as-buttons @slymanner @gumireblogs @marcy-wu-on-the-brain @button-drop @insaneillusionist @llumimoon @ineffable-gallimaufry @strawberry-seal77 @arcadiii @starryemeralds and i guess whoever else might want to hop in <3

15 Questions for 15 People

Thanks for the tag, @2for2long (really having moots is delightful)

1. Are you named after anyone?

My name isn't after anything, though people keep thinking it's from Heathers. IT'S NOT please stop guessing that haha

2. When was the last time you cried?

The last time I remember was 3 weeks ago seeing the play Radium Girls, but it's been windy as hell here, so I look like I've been crying when I go outside.

3. Do you have kids?

No...but I work in childcare and they're all my little darlings. Idk if I'll ever have kids, but definitely not for ages if so.

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I played soccer at the age everyone played soccer and only for that long.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Eh. If I do, I make it v clear 'cause I'm autistic and most of my friends are, so I don't wanna confuse people.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

If we're talking, it's their body language toward me. If they're just walking by, it's their aesthetic.

7. What's you're eye color?

Wheezer blue /ref (no they're not "get this man brown contacts" blue unless I'm staring into the sun, which I promise doesn't happen often)

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I have hyper-empathy, so it's usually the latter to take care of myself. I do love Doctor Who though, so sometimes I torture myself.

9. Any talents?

Acting and I'm a so-so juggling

10. Where were you born?

New Hampshire 🏔️

11. What are your hobbies?

Acting, running tech for shows, reading, obsessing over so many fandoms, watching twitch streamers (specifically ChilledChaos), and sudoku and puzzles.

12. Do you have any pets?

Not anymore, though I snakesat, had a lizard, and a bunch o' fish.

13. How tall are you?

5'6"

14. Favorite subject in school?

Theatre or English

15. What is your dream job?

Theatre-maker and Librarian

Tag 15 people (I'm handing each of you a cookie whether you answer or not -> 🍪): @speakeasyyy @randomfangirl2718 @locke-n-k3y @sillylilclown @alix-is-o-a-k @scarymarlowes @i-3at-s0ap @happi-tree @giraffeskull @macaro-mochi @loserlab @lake33rie @strawberryniceblock @radisyn @foggybear42

[clood]

Weird Questions for Writers: 1, 4, 15, 16, 24, 35, 39

eek thank you!!

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

if i change the font, i write in times new roman xD i am a science bitch through and through!! i have it set to my default on actual word, but in google docs it's just on arial and i only change it if it starts to bother me. i only care about 25% of the time!

(however i will not write in comic sans ever. no matter who tells me it's good for writer's block or creativity or whatever. i will write in wingdings before i write in comic sans.)

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

feral in a good way? desperate, profound, beholden

feral in a bad way? orbs, member, squelched

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

hmm i tend not to write in books, one reason being that i was always told i would like, go to baby jail if i did so. another being i don't really own that many physical books. i'm not about to deface public library property! if i like something, i will copy it into my ongoing note in my phone titled "lines that i like" so that i can later go back and reread them and be fond and mushy.

i use bookmarks because i think they are so cute and fun. also i like to use random things too because that way if i ever forget them in books from the library, i might give the next reader a silly little treat.

i do read in the bath, but mostly i will put on an episode of something instead. this way, i am reminded to actually exit the tub at some point, because otherwise i will decay in there and never get out xD

i will be friends with everyone, though i slightly question the people who do the millions of sticky tabs in their books to mark moments. idk, it seems sort of wasteful. but also they are enjoying themselves and their book so whatever :)

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

haha. i stole a drawing of a fish i had found at a beach house my bf and his family were staying in one spring break. it was a doodle some random stranger had left behind! not sure where it is now :(

honorable mentions include to/from tags my mom made for christmas with pictures of my dogs, and also a cheese stick. (wrapped)

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

this depends! for arms unfolding and where are you roaming, my two big multichaps, i have done extensive outlines. i say extensive, but really it's just been me rambling about what i want in the chapters. for smaller works it either looks like a few random bullet points or i just start writing right away, lest the ideas leave my head before they're out on paper.

i do really love the frantic, word-vomit stage of planning though! it's so crazy and chaotic for me most of the time and it's funny to go back to it as i'm getting further into the story and be like, "oh, yeah. that's where i was going with this!! such enthusiasm!!"

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

i'm a comma abuser.. idk man i feel like a lot of the time i just slap commas wherever the hell i please and neither god nor google docs grammar checker will get me to take them out.

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

this will definitely come off as super sappy but it's definitely the community of people i've been lucky enough to find myself a part of. all of the incredible friends i've made through fanfiction/fanart are such an inspiration to me, and it's really been such a blessing to be able to hear everyone's takes on everything—the good stuff and the bad. like, whenever someone is down on one of their pieces or super stuck on something, i try to be supportive and hear them out, so it would be unfair to myself to not give myself the same treatment. also, everyone rocks and is so kind that they really motivate me to keep going :)

THIS BECAME SO LONG I'M SO SORRY XD

[bylerisc4non]

I'm bad about commenting on ao3, but feel comfortable being rambly and shit on Tumblr, and saw you posted the fic in the byler tag, so I wanted to let you know i really enjoyed your fic! The total miscommunication between Mike and Will where Will thinks Mike's upset with him over the drawings, meanwhile Mike's freaking out because Will drew him so pretty and is probably thinking like "holy shit, is that really how he sees me?" And needs time to process that. And then of course they just go back to normal because they're both too scared to make a move, until the moment in the bathroom! And Mike probably internally panicking because he isn't entirely sure if they were actually about to kiss or he was reading into it, and he's not sure if he freaked Will out since he was so quick to leave once El came in, so he decides "fuck it, i'll have a couple drinks and then make a move when i can get him alone," but being the dumbass he is, he decides jumping in the pool when it's fucking freezing outside is a good idea, and that's how he'll make his move. I fucking love that, he really just needed something and went "hmm, pool," and ran with it. And Will's just again, confused because Mike's been acting weird but what's he supposed to do, and then he's being kissed and is just like "??? Hello?" Also: the whole Party being aware they had feelings for each other Literally the Entire Time, and just watching them pine after one another and then seeing they're behavior shift and have a moment of "they finally figured it out," is such an amazing trope, and i love it. Anyways, sorry if this is weird at all, but I love when people ramble about my fics (though i have yet to finish/publish any for ST), and figured maybe you would too! The length also sort of got away from me, haha

First off: don't be sorry. You just made my whole fucking day/week/month/year. 😭 Also, who let you in my head? Because that was literally my entire thought process. lmao.

Anyway, thank you so much for this, it was super encouraging!! I'm so glad you liked it and truly understood it. I love writing unreliable narrator Will honestly because it's so completely different from what's happening. You're exactly right; Mike got super flustered when he saw those drawings because Will drew him all gorgeous like. And in his brain he was probably pretty confused because Will kept throwing things out like "it's an artist thing." So, then Mike is like, "wait so it didn't mean anything?" Then they have that moment in the bathroom and he's just like, "okay, I have to make my move and at least try."

The pool scene was the best to write I loved every minute of it. It's silly but also beautiful and fluffy. I had it all planned out for a few days before I even started writing it.

Oh and I agree; the party knowing all along is such a wonderful trope. It's hilarious cuz they're all outsiders just watching like, "Please, oh, please just get together for Christ's sake." I kinda stole that from my last fic (lying to your therapist) where the therapist knew all along. But I used it again cuz I feel like from an outsiders POV, byler is obvious.

Again, thank you so much for reading and this lil ramble it actually meant the world!! ❤️ You are so wonderful, have an amazing day!!!

[hurting-fictional-people]

13. Have you ever felt insecure because you enjoy whump? How did you overcome that insecurity?

~and~

19. Who are your favorite whump bloggers? Tag them!

13. Oh my Gosh, yes. I realized I was a little too into characters being tortured when I was about 14, and got horrified at myself for sleeping peacefully after spending hours imagining characters in agony, so I spent years pretending I didn't like whump and being horrified again when I forgot to push that side of me away and caught myself randomly daydreaming about whump... and then last year I found a whump prompt on pinterest that led me to tumblr that led me to the whump community, and finding out that I wasn't alone in liking whump and that no, it doesn't make me a bad person and no, it doesn't mean I like to see real people suffer, was what made me make peace with it. I'm not ashamed of it anymore, I'm actually kinda proud of that side of me because I feel like it makes me ✨special✨ lol and that's one of the reasons why I love this community sm <3

19. Look, I reblogged this game knowing someone could ask me this one but hhhh it still makes me nervous, I'm intimidated by most people I admire even though they all seem really nice. I'm gonna tag them though, cuz why not, but know my heart is beating faster as I write this haha

so we have @whumpwillow because anything she writes breaks my heart and sometimes she fixes it with a little bit of fluff but I love whatever she writes regardless of how much it hurts :’)

@sometouchofmadness who is so incredibly nice and anything she writes is so so good and well written and always gives me major whumperflies, 

@evermetnotforgotten who I'm only a little intimidated by but that’s because they were the first blog I found so I had more time to work on it hahah (I already sent them an ask saying I love their writing but why not say it again? I love it. And Lev has my heart.),

@ashintheairlikesnow I’m reading pretty much all of her stories reeeally slowly because they give me so many feelings I have to read one per day to have time to process it all lol (and I say this in a good way! your stories really touch me) I’m very intimidated because she has so many ocs and they are all so real and I love them all and her writing is beautiful and I just. a lot of admiration means a lot of intimidation :’) but I saw her listing silly things she did and it made it a little better haha, also 

@whatiswhump the best blog for psych whump, stole my heart with Alfie’s story and 

@livingforthewhump because Caroline’s story gives me so many whumperflies and all her drabbles do too!

I love a lot of other blogs too - literally, everyone I follow is because I enjoy their writing but these ones were what came to mind rn ♥

[plaidbooks]

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 8

A/N: This starts with a little bit of fluffy cuteness, but don’t let that fool you! Jenkins coming in hot, and then it switches to angst. And it stays angst. So heads up, it’s gonna be angst for a bit haha.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: none, outside of feelings, oh, I guess minor character death that was mentioned in one line

Words: 6k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, May 2nd. 5:00am

Devon woke up at 5am sharp, as usual, even after being up over 24 hours the day before. She uncurled on the couch, stretching while standing, then went through her morning routine: exercise, shower, dress. She tried to be as quiet as possible, since Barba was still asleep, and she planned to let him sleep in a little, their deal from the previous night. Normally on weekends, he would stumble out of his room around 8am. Glancing at the clock, it was still early; only 6:30. Devon planned on making coffee to go with the breakfast, so she decided that 8am would be the safest time to start it. Until then, though, she’d work on the abandoned report from last night, while trying to ignore the thoughts that had stopped that report. Having those types of thoughts helped no one and was wildly unprofessional. So, she shoved her feelings away, focusing on the events from the past two days instead.

Time flew by and 8am came faster than she thought it would, with no signs of life from Barba’s room. She still got up from the couch, report done, and started the French press. While waiting for the water to heat up, she went to the FBI database, trying to check on the last 12 Aces in the city. She looked up from her laptop when she heard Barba’s door open; she didn’t even hear him shower, yet his hair was still damp from the spray. He was in nice slacks and a plain polo shirt; his “casual” attire, unlike his “weekend” suits. It was always a little treat seeing someone who was normally in expensive suits dressing in something…not as expensive. Casual. He still looked damn good, though.

“Good morning,” Devon chirped, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he grumbled. Even when he slept in, Rafael Barba was not a morning person. Devon grinned, pouring him a cup, and adding the appropriate amount of sugar that she knew he liked. She noticed, somewhere deep down, that she liked their almost…domestic tendencies. It made sense, with how much time they spent together, but it was still nice to have these little shared things. It was like his home was hers’, too. Which was comforting. And absolutely terrifying.

“Here you go,” she said, passing him the hot liquid.  He gratefully took a deep pull, letting the caffeine waken him. He went to the fridge, pulling out an assortment of vegetables and a carton of eggs. He set about making breakfast, an omelet with sautéed vegies; Devon hovered in the kitchen, but her attention was on her laptop, still researching.

“So, what time were you up today?” Barba asked casually.

“Uh, 5am?” Devon replied.

Barba shot her a look. “I thought we agreed to sleep in today. Why were you up so early?”

“I—I’m always up at 5. I have an internal clock, wakes me up,” she explained.

“Everyday?”

“Correction, almost always. Sometimes I’m up at 4.”

Barba looked shocked first, then concerned. “We go to bed so late; why the hell do you wake up so early? And how the hell are you so perky in the morning?”

Devon thought about it. “I’ve been waking up before the sun for a while, now, couple years, actually. Guess it’s just habit.” She gave him a playful smile. “The perkiness is all me, baby.”

Barba ignored the joke, all serious. “Years? That cannot be healthy. Have you talked to anyone about this?”

Devon took a sip of coffee, swirled it in her mouth before swallowing. “After doing a UC, it’s mandatory to talk to a therapist. So yes, I did ‘talk to someone’ about it…. Especially because it seemed to start a week into that assignment.” Barba flipped the omelet he was making. It looked like he was going to question further, so Devon cut him off. “Yes, both my therapist and I believe that it’s from stress. I—I think I’m just…” she took a deep breath; saying it out loud was acknowledging it. But it was also good to get it out of her mind. “I’m just afraid; my brain needs to be on alert at all times. I know it sounds silly, but people like you—victims--deserve to have 24/7 protection, but I can only give you 20 at most. I’m a light sleeper; anyone breaking in and I’ll hear it. But I don’t think that’s really good enough; it leaves at least 4 hours where you’re open, exposed, especially with the fire escape in your room.” Barba took the omelet out of the pan, placing it skillfully on a plate, and passing it to Devon. She took it gratefully, blowing on it before taking a bite. It was delicious. Is there anything he can’t do?

Barba sighed as he went back to the pan, starting on his own food. “Devon, I know that no one wants to hear it, but you are human. No one, including you, can stay awake and alert 24/7. Hell, even 20/7 is insane. I’m glad that this whole mess is almost over.” He flinched inwardly as soon as the words left his mouth. And the look on Devon’s face was a punch to the gut; it was only there for a split second before she went back to a neutral expression. But he felt it, too; as much as he would like life to go back to normal, he really didn’t want to lose her, lose this. Not yet.

“It will be nice to sleep in my own bed again,” Devon joked, though her voice fell a little flat. She knew that it was inevitable; she’d have to leave him eventually, go on with her work and life. But she really, really, didn’t want to think about that. She was disappointed that he was already there in his thoughts, that he was wishing for it.

Barba finished cooking his own food, standing at the counter next to Devon. They ate in relative silence, besides complimenting each other on the food and coffee, and idly talking about heading to the park afterwards.

“Oh shit, I need to call Liv,” Devon said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Olivia picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Dev, everything alright?” she asked.

Devon chuckled, shaking her head. “Of course. Just wanted to let you know that Barba and I were going to Central Park for a little. Get some fresh air after the mess from the past couple days.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? You don’t think that you’ll be sitting ducks?”

“There’s only 12 Aces left, and I think after what happened with Marco, we should be good.” Devon waited a moment before adding on, “I’ll be armed, we’ll be safe.”

Liv sighed. “For one thing, I forgot to text you last night; we caught 5 more Aces in a raid last night. So now the magic number is 7. And second, I’ll station some extra unis in the park, just to be sure. The remaining members may be getting desperate, since there’s not many left.”

“That’s good to know. I’ll let Barba know, and I’ll keep my eyes open,” Devon replied. She hung up, then, and relayed the information to Barba.

“Hm, SVU must be busy; Liv doesn’t normally forget to inform us like that,” he said.

Devon agreed. “We can always stop by later today, see what’s up.” Barba nodded.

They finished their food quickly, suddenly eager to get out into fresh air. Barba’s loft was only two blocks from Central Park, so it was a short walk there, but before they even hit the park, they were already more relaxed, basking in the warm, sunny day. There’s something about getting out of the house, even for a simple walk, that was refreshing. It seemed like the tension, the heaviness, from the last two days lifted, and they joked and laughed, conversation flowing easily. They made it to a trail that went by the water, and just enjoyed each other’s presence. They talked about nothing, really, just idle small talk.  Devon did surreptitiously watch every person within eyesight; she saw at least 6 cops the first ten minutes there, two on bikes and the rest on foot. But no one looked suspicious, only suburban moms with their strollers, joggers, couples walking through the park. They wandered the trail for about an hour, slowly getting closer together, though neither of them noticed. It wasn’t until Devon’s hand brushed against his that they realized how close they were. They stopped walking, half turning to each other, Devon’s cheeks flushing, an apology on her tongue. Barba opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a woman screaming.

Devon was a flurry of movement, embarrassment from the simple touch forgotten. Her first instinct was to shove Barba behind her, turning towards the noise. It took a moment for the woman’s words to process in her adrenaline-clogged brain.

“Help! He stole my purse!” she yelled, pointing. A man dressed like a burglar from a shitty movie, complete with loose jeans, a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, and dark sunglasses, was running on the path that Devon and Barba were currently on, a tan purse clutched in his hand. As the man tried to push passed them, Barba stuck out his leg. The man got caught on his foot and went down, slamming into the ground, glasses flying off his face.

“Great reflexes,” Devon said, jokingly, giving him a half-grin. She knelt down, grabbing his hands and pulling them behind his back. “Senior Special Agent Motely, FBI,” she informed the man. She grabbed the purse from his clutches and handed it to Barba.

“Did you doubt me?” Barba smirked back. He took the purse, looking towards the woman who had alerted them. She was on her way over, as well as the two bike cops. Barba handed over the purse, and Devon let the unis cuff the man. Devon noticed Barba’s hands were shaking; he must still be feeling anxious from the past couple days for this small action to affect him so.

“Come on,” Devon said, giving him a soft smile. She took Barba’s shaking hand, ignoring the jolt of electricity she felt from touching his burning skin, and led him away from the scene at a slow jog. She was hoping that a short jog would burn off the extra energy coursing through both of their veins. She led him out of the park and towards a small café across the street; one of her favorite spots.

“That was…surprisingly fun,” Barba chuckled, trying to catch his breath. Devon laughed with him; at least he had stopped shaking.

“Oh no, please stay as a lawyer. Don’t switch to cop,” Devon replied, feigning concern at his life choices.

“Why not? Afraid that I’d take your job?”

“No, but I think the power would go to your already inflated head.”

Barba scoffed as if offended. “Don’t lie; I’d outrank you in a week.”

“And there’s that ego I mentioned.” They chuckled, before a waitress came out to them. They both ordered a coffee—Devon got a pastry, too--and resigned to people watching while they waited for her to come back.

“To be honest, though, I am glad that we were able to help that woman out,” Devon said.

Barba agreed. “We got lucky that he ran towards the two people in the park that could help her.”

“That’s a little rude to the cops working in the park.”

Barba smirked. “But am I wrong?”

“Not at all,” she replied. Their coffee and food came just then, and they sat in silence, drinking and sharing the pastry. Devon broke the silence. “Today’s been really fun. I’m glad we decided to do this.”

“Me too. It’s nice getting out of the loft every now and again. To not worry about cases, files, rapes, murders, and traffickers.”

Devon nodded. “It does get…taxing, after a while. You have to find a balance in this line of work. It’s not always enough to just go home at the end of the day.”

Barba thought about what he wanted to say, how he wanted to say it. “I—I couldn’t imagine doing what you do. At least I get to go home at the end of the day. You just finished a three-year undercover op before this; you didn’t even get to go home. You didn’t get to talk to friends, hell you didn’t even have your own name. That sounds like a type of torture. And now, you still don’t get to go home.”

“At least I have some good company,” she smiled at him. She took a small bite of her pastry, then continued, “sometimes, it feels like torture. But you have to get so into your character, your fabricated life. You have to be invested in your fake job, fake friends, fake relationships. Sometimes, none of those things feel fake anymore. It’s just life…. I’ve learned that you need to have something, anything, that can pull you back to your real life.”

“What…what did you have?”

Devon’s cheeks turned red, though she tried to hide it by drinking her coffee. “You, uh, you got to promise me you will not tell a soul,” she said after putting her coffee down. She locked eyes with him. “I’m serious; no one must know of this, especially Olivia.”

Barba kept his face neutral, trying not to smile at how flustered Devon got, how cute she was when her face got all red like that. Was it really that bad? “Okay, I promise.”

Devon took a deep breath, let it out. Then she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She popped the case off, pulling something out. In her hand was a small square of what looked like folded paper. She went about unfolding it, and Barba realized it wasn’t a piece of paper, but a photo. It was so worn, so creased, that it was obvious how often she had needed to look at it during her time undercover. Once unfolded, she handed it to Barba, looking away sheepishly, sipping at her coffee.

The picture was faded, even though it was timestamped as only four years ago. It was a snapshot of what looked like a fun night in a dark bar. Devon was on the left, wearing a plastic top hat that read “Happy New Year’s! 2010” and with a drink in hand. She looked like she was laughing in the picture. Hanging on her, arm wrapped around the people on either side of her, was Olivia. It looked like she was trying to have them hold her up, but her face showed that it wasn’t happening. The photographer must have gotten her mid-fall—her mouth was open in a comical “O” shape. Barba only knew the man on the right because Olivia had showed her pictures before; his name was Elliot Stabler, Liv’s old partner. He wore a hat matching Devon’s, and it looked like Olivia was taking him down with her. His mouth was open in surprise, though a smile tugged at the corners. It was a great picture of three friends enjoying the start of the new year. Barba hated that he felt a pang of loneliness and jealousy looking at it. He looked up from the picture to find Devon watching him, cheeks still red.

“That was the first time since my childhood that I had celebrated my birthday; that I even had friends to celebrate with,” Devon explained, taking the photo back and gazing at it lovingly.

“Your birthday is New Year’s Eve?”

“Day, actually,” she corrected. She took one last look, then folded it up, stuffing it back into the phone case, popping it back on and replacing it in her pocket.

Barba wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was glad she had people to celebrate with, but also felt sad that it took her so long to find that kind of acceptance in her life. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said softly. There was nothing else to say. He was touched that she had opened up to him, had shown him something so personal.

Like in the park, they were both so enraptured in their thoughts that they stopped paying attention to their surroundings, especially their body language. They both had the same, stupid grin on their faces, as they stared into each other’s eyes. Barba had his hand on the table between them, and Devon didn’t even realize that she had placed hers on top of it. They were slowly leaning closer to each other, lost in the depths of their eyes, the closeness that they felt. Thinking about how today was a perfect date, yet neither would admit to the other that it even was one; it was just a walk in the park between friends. Sharing an intimate secret between friends. Holding hands, sharing a pastry, leaning closer, heads tilting, eyes closing…as friends….

Devon’s phone started ringing loudly, and they both jumped back, ripping their hands off the table. Devon fished her phone back out of her pocket, heart beating wildly. What just happened?

Barba looked flushed and a little…disappointed, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip, adverting his eyes. Devon looked at her phone screen, seeing her boss’s name lighting up across it.

“Uh oh…” she mumbled before answering. “Motely.”

“Is there a reason that NYPD’s Internal Affairs just handed me a file on you shooting a man two days ago?” Jenkins asked. He wasn’t angry; he just sounded tired.

Shit. “Oh, I meant to call you about that, sir,” Devon replied, heart still pounding. Her mind was going a mile a minute, stuck between thoughts of shooting Marco, IAB, and almost, maybe, about to kiss a certain counselor who was still avoiding her eyes. “You see, it’s a long story….”

“Well, you’d better come in and explain it to me, then.”

Devon looked to Barba, sipping innocently at his coffee. How much coffee does he still have? “Uh, permission to bring a civilian?” He finally looked at her at that, brow furrowed.

Jenkins sighed; he knew better than to ask questions. “Granted. Get here. Now.” And with that, he hung up.

Devon slowly put her phone down. She looked deeply into Barba’s green eyes. “Ever wanted to go to the FBI Headquarters?”

FBI Headquarters

Saturday, May 2nd. 12:37pm

Devon led Barba into the elevator leading to her boss’s office, his visitor badge bouncing off his chest.

“This is not what I had planned today when we agreed on a day off,” he mumbled, the doors closing behind them. Devon smirked.

“Sorry about this. I could’ve left you with a detective, if you really wanted. Or you can go back to the lobby; one of the field agents can watch you.”

Barba scoffed. “I’m not a child for you to pass around.”

“Then stop complaining like one,” she replied. He glared at her, and she stuck her tongue out in response. The elevator doors dinged and opened, and Devon led him down the long hallway to Jenkins’s office.

“Come in,” he said before she even had a chance to knock. Barba gave her a look, eyebrows raised. She shrugged in a yeah, that’s normal way, then opened the door for him, following him in. Jenkins kept his office space neat, tidy; a desk with two monitors, a couple of full bookshelves, and a small conference table in the corner. Although he was the Assistant Director, in charge of multiple sectors of field agents, he still didn’t spend much time in his office, usually only resigning to the space at night or on weekends to do paperwork. Much like Olivia, he worked his way up from field agent, and his heart and mind were still out in the field. He had trouble sitting still for too long, and was often out of the office, running teams or even in the field himself as much as possible. Which was why everyone respected him, whether they liked him or not.

“Counselor,” Jenkins said in his deep voice, nodding to Barba, before turning back to Devon. “Motely, report.”

Devon took a deep breath, then filled him in on everything that had happened since the end of January, starting from the night she met Barba, to talking to Olivia, to accepting the 24/7 protection of the ADA. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this…extensive,” Devon finished, lacking a better word. It was true, though; she knew what 24/7 protection was like, but she had only ever done it for a weekend at most. Never for months at a time. And though she knew that there was the chance of it lasting longer than she thought, it was different talking about it and actually doing it.

“So, this shooting of Marco Sorrel was in defense of Mr. Barba here,” Jenkins replied, looking at the case file from IAB.

“Yes sir.”

“And this protection order is still in effect? That’s why you brought him here, I take it?”

“Yes sir.” Devon felt Barba tense next to her; she had almost forgot he was there. He had said nothing since coming into the office. He knew when to bite his tongue.

“For how much longer? I need my top agent back to work.”

That knocked the wind out of Devon’s sails. It was the confirmation that after this was over, she would be going right back to work for the FBI. She wasn’t surprised, but it did solidify her resolve; she could not have a relationship with Barba, regardless of their feelings. She basically already told him as much that one day they talked a little too loosely about relationships.

“To my knowledge, there’s only 7 more Aces active in the city. Once they’re arrested, and the hit on Barba is off, I’ll be cleared for work again, sir,” Devon informed him.

Jenkins smirked. “Only 7? Tell that SVU Sergeant that I’ll make sure it’s taken care of before the weekend is over. I want to see you here, bright and early, on Monday morning; there’s a sex-trafficking ring I need you in on.”

Devon felt her stomach drop, her world crumbling. But she kept her face neutral, her voice steady. “Y-yes sir,” she said. Hearing the dismissal in his voice, she turned, Barba following suit, and left the office.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, May 2nd. 3:05pm

“So, are we going to talk about it?” Barba finally asked from the kitchen. They both had been silent leaving the Bureau, and even more distant on the ride back to Barba’s loft. They tried small talk, but it sizzled out after a couple words. They both resigned to doing their own thing; Devon researching on her laptop, Barba doing the dishes from breakfast.

“Talk about what?” Devon replied, but she knew. Of course, she did. But she wanted to hear him say it.

Barba sighed, turning off the water. He placed the last pan on the drying rack, drying his hands off before coming to stand in the doorway. “Let’s be adults about this. Please. You know what,” when Devon stayed silent, Barba continued, “about what happened, well, what almost happened at the café. About the fact that you’re going to be leaving soon. About…about where that leaves us.”

Devon’s heart fluttered when he said “us.” God, she wanted there to be an “us” so damn badly. But she couldn’t force herself to take that leap, to fully commit to him. How could she, when both of their schedules were so busy, so crazy? Jenkins said it himself; she was about to go right back into the field. She could be gone for months, years at a time. She could be hurt or worse. How could she possibly hurt Barba like that, put him through that?

“The café was a mistake,” she said as flatly as she could. She stared at his chest, not able to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, Rafael, but there isn’t an ‘us.’ This is a job, and once it’s over, I’m back to working with the Bureau.” Devon was glad that there were no tears in her eyes; her years of training, of becoming personas were coming in handy, even if her own heart was breaking at her words. She dared a glance into Barba’s face.

He was crestfallen, his face falling. He had been sure, was positive, that she had felt the same way about him. Especially when they brushed hands in the park, when they almost kissed in the café. It took him weeks and weeks to build up the courage to make a move, and when her hand had enveloped his at that table, he knew that that was his moment. Then that damned phone call happened. And then, that damned meeting with her boss! And now she was going to leave him, by tomorrow if her boss was correct. That’s why he had to tell her, he had to know if she had felt the same.

“I thought you said that we were friends. That you cared about me,” he said softly. God, he sounded desperate, pathetic, even to himself.

Devon’s eyes softened, if only for a moment. “You are, and I do. But Barbs, we can’t be any more than that. You know that, right?” Her resolve was shaking under his intense stare. She could see him caving in on himself, his shoulders slumping slightly, his head falling, knees bending. His whole body language just screamed defeated. And she was the one delivering the blows.

He took a deep breath, stiffening his spine, raising his head; the prosecutor heading into a losing battle. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting you in this kind of situation. Forget I mentioned it.” With that, he made his way down the hallway and into his room, closing his door softly behind him. Devon opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Great, she thought. There goes that friendship. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, though; it made things a little less awkward. And it made her leaving easier. Plus, it’d be just like one of her many one-night stands anyways. No attachments: just cut all ties when she left. And leave the broken pieces of her heart behind.

As if the timing couldn’t be more perfect, Devon got an incoming call, from Olivia.

“Motely,” she answered, trying to sound professional.

“Devon! Great news: all the Aces have been rounded up and delivered to the NYPD. Did you call in the Feds to help?” Olivia asked.

Devon smiled grimly. “No, but my boss did offer his assistance after getting IAB’s report.”

“Well, he certainly assisted. Also, I just got a report that said that an hour ago, the Aces in Rikers got in a fight with the 32nd street gang in the prison courtyard. Jorge Ramirez was killed in the scuffle,” Olivia paused, letting her words sink in. “To our knowledge, the hit on Barba has been called off; you can go home, now.”

Devon sat in silence, trying to figure out what the hell the bombardment of emotions she felt was; it was all too much, too quickly. “Devon? You there?” she heard Liv say.

“Yeah, yeah sorry, I’m here. That’s…that’s great news, Liv. I’ll be sure to tell Barbs; I’m sure he’ll be relieved.”

They talked for a few more minutes before Devon made an excuse to hang up, citing the fact that she needed to pack and go grocery shopping before heading home. She sighed heavily, rubbing her hands over her face, but she stood and started collecting her small number of possessions.

“It’s done, isn’t it?” a voice came from down the hallway. Devon stopped, but didn’t turn to look.

“Yes; all the Aces have been arrested. Plus, Ramirez was shanked in a prison fight, so the hit’s been called off,” she turned to look at the man now, “congratulations, Barbs. You’re no longer a marked man.”

The door to his bedroom was wide open and Barba was leaning casually against the doorframe. Well, as casually as he could; his body was tight with tension, as much as he tried to hide it, and if Devon looked closely, she could see a small red ring around his eyes. He gave a stiff nod, peeling himself off the doorframe and coming out into the living room. Devon finished packing her things, zipping up her grip and slinging it over her shoulder. She felt a slew of emotions run through her; she needed to get out of there, but she was rooted to the spot.

“When will I see you again?” Barba murmured. It was barely a whisper, so quiet that it was hard to tell if he actually said it, or if Devon imagined it.

She gave him a soft smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll end up working on a case together at some point…I do help SVU from time to time,” she replied quietly. He gave her another stiff nod, not trusting himself to speak. She no longer trusted her own voice, and turned away, unable to look at his face anymore. She felt tears spring to her eyes, and she blinked them away rapidly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Devon made her way to the front door, unlocking it, opening it slowly.

“Wait,” Barba finally choked out. Devon froze at the door, one foot already in the hallway. She looked over her shoulder at him, eyes softening for a moment. His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no sound came out.

She gave him a small smile. “Stay safe,” she whispered, and then she was gone.

 *********************

Devon didn’t go straight home. It was still early in the evening; the sun still hadn’t set, and it was still warm out. She also didn’t call a cab; instead opting to simply wander the streets, the grip slung over her shoulder soon forgotten as her mind, too, began to wander. She made it a full block before the tears began to flow, slowly at first, but then soon falling freely. She let them, ignoring the stares from strangers she walked by. It was good to let it all out, especially here, outdoors, rather than in her own space. She did wander in the general direction of her apartment—she lived about a 30-minute walk from Barba’s loft—and she took her time, weaving in and out of the streets. Finally, with the sun setting, and her shoulder growing sore from the weight, she made her way home.

 *********************

Apartment of Devon Motely

Saturday, May 2nd. 7:35pm

After her undercover op in California, Devon had the cleaners from the FBI clean her place so that it wasn’t dusty or gross. This was not the case with the past three months with Barba; the place had obviously not been inhabited. Dust covered every surface, there was a weird smell that wasn’t there before, and it was stuffy. Devon sighed, having no motivation to clean anything, emotionally drained. She looked at the clock and sighed again, realizing she hadn’t eaten anything besides breakfast and the little pastry at the café by the park, right before everything fell apart. She should eat, but she didn’t feel hungry. She didn’t really feel anything right now except for emptiness…a longing, and a loneliness that she hadn’t felt in years.

She went to her room and checked her bed, sniffing the sheets. They smelled musty, and she knew she couldn’t sleep in that. She stripped the sheets and threw them on the floor in the corner; that was a tomorrow problem. She went to her closet and pulled out her back-up sheets but couldn’t bring herself to make the bed. Instead, she threw them on the bed in a heap and made her way to the kitchen. Hungry or not, she should eat something, especially if she planned on drinking—and she did plan on drinking; maybe it would help lessen some of the emptiness, though she knew, deep down, that that was a load of crap.

First things first, she looked in her liquor cabinet, finding some cheap whiskey. Fingers crossed, she looked in her fridge and, hallelujah, she found an unopened bottle of Coca Cola. She quickly made herself a strong drink, then took another look in the fridge. No food to be found. She checked her pantry next. A couple cans of soup and some long-expired rice. She winced, remembering that she had been gone for over three years now; she really needed to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

Sighing, she grabbed a box of instant rice and opened it. It wasn’t fuzzy or discolored, so she presumed it was fine. The alcohol she was drinking would kill anything in it, anyways. While waiting for the water to boil, she unpacked her grip, throwing the clothes in a laundry bin, plugging in her laptop, and taking out her toiletries, to be replaced with new ones tomorrow. She went back to the kitchen, grabbed a notepad, and started making a list of foods. Once done, she had a thought, and went to her supply closet. After checking the small amount of cleaners she had, she added ones she needed to the list too. She was on autopilot, thoughts blank, afraid to stop moving. Actions kept her thoughts at bay. Speaking of moving, she realized that she could finally go back to the gym tomorrow morning, something that she thought she’d be excited for, but in this state, it was a dull thought. She dreaded the pain she’d be in tomorrow—her little morning routine wasn’t intense enough to replace a gym workout—but knew it would be worth it in the end.

Satisfied with her list, Devon took her food and drink, then sat in her living room. She didn’t like how the apartment didn’t seem…familiar, not in the way she was used to, or how his had felt. Even with her work, she had lived in this apartment for about seven years now, and it was always a welcome relief coming home. Now, it was like a piece was missing. Suddenly, the silence was pushing in on her, deafening her. She lunged for the TV remote, turned on whatever sports station she could find, and sat there, picking at her rice as the announcers were droning on about…the Mets. It didn’t really matter what was on, as long as there was continuous talking, hence, sports.

It didn’t take long, though, before the monotone voices seemed to tune out of her consciousness. Devon finished her food and drink, went back to the kitchen to dispose of her dishes, and brought the whiskey and coke back to the couch with her. She quickly lost count of drinks, thinking more and more about, well, everything that happened the past couple months. She remembered the first night she had met the ADA, before she knew who he was. She thought about how he didn’t want her help at first, how he had told Olivia that he didn’t need her. How she had made a deal with him that she’d never bother him again afterwards.

She thought about those first few weeks together, about how they were awkward around each other, learning about each other. She thought about how fascinated she was the first time she watched him in court, the pride and awe the first time he won a conviction. She remembered how his eyes lit up, how he set his jaw when he ran through his arguments with her in his office. She remembered how his green eyes conveyed concern when she got stabbed in the shoulder. She remembered his little smirk when he found something amusing. She wondered when she noticed all these little things about him.

She was shocked when she felt the tears on her cheeks, didn’t notice them pooling in her eyes. So, what if she loved him? It wasn’t going to work; she knew that! She had to move on with her life, let him move on, too. He deserved someone who could love him with their whole heart, who could be there for him when he needed them. She couldn’t be that person; she was always on call, and it was never a guarantee that see would come home at night.

Devon let out a loud sniffle, trying to control her emotions. It was final; she would forget about Rafael Barba. She would get a good night sleep, clean her apartment tomorrow, and then go back to work on Monday. And that was that. She finished her drink, wiped the tears out of her eyes, then went to her room. She saw the sheets clumped on her bed and let out a frustrated scream.

[ivybucky]

cookies and cable-knit sweaters (s.r.)

prompt: baking christmas cookies puts you in the best mood

A/N: this is day 2 of 12 Days of Winter fics! Knives Out and chris evans in that sweater got me feeling all sorts of things and I thought it was the perfect plot for Steve fluff. Some of my best friends have never had snickerdoodles??? ridiculous 

author: abby

words: 1395

pairing: steve rogers x reader

song i’m listening: winter song - leslie odom jr.

Cinnamon and sugar wafted through the air. 

The soft hum of your voice softly echoed down the hall, the melody of a slow rendition of ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas” filling the moment went sound. Steve felt dragged down the hall to the kitchen like a cartoon smelling a freshly baked pie. 

In leggings, one of Steve’s sweatshirts you stole from the laundry, and apron, you swayed gently to the music playing in your head as you measured out cups of sugar. 

“Good morning, Y/N,” Steve hummed, taking in your relaxed appearance, marveling in the simple beauty of you. “What’s got you up so early, doll?” 

You flushed at the nickname and the rough, sleepy voice of America’s wonderboy. You turned towards him with a grin trying to mask your redness. You took in his disheveled look, blonde hair sticking up in directions it shouldn’t, loose sweats hanging low on his hips, and t-shirt sitting off on his broad shoulders. “It’s almost Christmas, so I thought I would make everyone some cookies.” 

Steve huffed out a lazy laugh. “At seven in the morning?” 

“Well, I’m making a lot,” you chuckled. “Lord knows you’ll eat one batch alone.”

Steve smiled sheepishly, leaning his back and hips on the counter next to where you were working, crossing his arms over chest. The t-shirt strained against his biceps, causing your eyes to flit down to the material before meeting his eyes again. “I’m sorry you make the best food in the world. I just can’t help but eat it all.” 

You giggled, “I’m just teasing, Steve.” You looked at him with soft eyes. “You know I’d make anything you’d want.” 

Steve growled, sending a shudder down your back. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N/N,” he chuckled. “What kind are you making right now?” 

Your grin widened as you looked back at the ingredients in front of you. “Snickerdoodles! They’re my favorite.”

Steve’s brows furrowed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had those,” he said, eliciting a gasp from you. 

“What?!” You stared at him in disbelief as he shoveled one of the countless sugar cookies already baked on the counter. A star shaped one with red sugar on it. “But they’re so good!”

Steve chuckled at your disappointed frown. “Maybe I can help you make them then,” he cleared his throat before stuttering. “That is if you want my help, doll.”

You blushed at the thought of spending the day with Steve doing your favorite activity. You smiled looking up at him, nodding. “Go get your apron on, Cap.” 

You chuckled as Steve smiled widely before jogging down the hallway to change clothes, sliding around the corner into his room in his socks. For an old man, he sure acted like a child.

____

Adorned in a white cable-knit sweater, jeans, and some leather boots, Steve bumbled into the kitchen with a large smile on his face. He quickly made his way to the pantry, grabbing a red apron from a hook and not paying much attention as he looked at you. “What do you want me to do?” he questioned, pulling the apron over his neck before tying it around his waist. 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight standing before you. His flushed cheeks, eyes full of excitement, and an apron that read “kiss the cook.” Deciding not to mention it, you waved him over to your side. “So first we gotta beat the sugar and butter together, like this,” you motioned as you used an electric beater in the bowl in front of you. 

Steve watched with furrowed brows and a tight lipped frown in concentration as you smoothly walk him through the steps of making the snickerdoodles. The way your face lit up when giving him instructions. As he rolls cookie dough in cinnamon and sugar he ponders, “So how did you get so good at baking?”

You smiled softly, rolling dough alongside him. “My grandmother used to bake and cook every single day. After school, I would spend afternoons with her waiting for my mom to come back. It was always comforting to spend time baking with her. It just kinda became a habit to bake when I was feeling down or needed a pick me up ya know.”

Steve smiled, turning towards you and leaning his side against the counter. “It sounds like y’all were close. What made you wanna bake so much today? Something gotcha down, doll?” Worry clouded his voice.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “I think this time of year always get me down and lonely, ya know? It’s hard getting through the holidays alone.”

“But you’re not alone, Y/N,” he put his hand on yours, stopping your movement. “I - the team,” he corrected himself. “We’re always gonna be here for you.”

“I know,” you gave his hand a squeeze. “I just wish I could share this holiday with someone other than family if that makes sense.” You looked at Steve, his mouth parted as if he was about to speak. A timer went off behind you, signaling that the batch in the oven was done. 

“Oh shit,” you whispered, wiping your sugar covered hands on your Christmas apron. 

_______

You and Steve continued to make your batch of cookies, your conversation not leaving Steve’s mind. You meant the world to him and knowing that you’d been feeling lonely when all he wanted was to be yours. 

You stuck your batch into oven, taking off your apron and hoping on the only empty space on the countertop, letting your feet dangle. Smiling wide at Steve, you grabbed a candy-cane shaped cookie with red sugar on it and shoved it in your mouth, just as he did before. You giggled when crumbs started falling in your lap. Steve chuckled, pointing towards your mouth. “You uh- you got a little something there.”

The back of your hand, moved to brush off the crumbs, missing entirely. “Did I get it?”

Steve grinned, “Haha no, let me get it.”

He moved to stand in front of you between your legs. You held your breath at his closeness as he swept his thumb over your bottom lip, gathering what crumbs were left there. He brought his thumb up to his mouth without hesitation, gently sucking the sugary taste off. His eyes met yours, noticing your blushed cheeks, and widened pupils. Nervously, he moved his hand to cup your cheek. You leaned in without hesitation.

“I know you feel alone right now, Y/N,” he said quietly, his thumb gently brushing your cheekbone. “But you don’t have to be.” He rested his forehead against yours. 

“Steve,” you whispered, breath entangling with his. “I’m about to listen to your apron.”

Confused, Steve pulled back just enough to look down at the white lettering on the front of his apron. Looking back up at you with realisation, you pulled him against you. His soft lips pressed against yours, tongue tasting yours. Sugary sweet, just like you. 

Your hands wound their way into his, pulling him impossibly close to you as his hands tightened around your waist. Steve fucking moaned against you, the feeling of you being too much to handle. Your lungs started to sting from the lack of air. You pulled back from Steve, his lips chasing yours, hungry for more. 

“Fuck,” he cussed in a whisper, leaning his forehead on your shoulder. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He laid a kiss on your neck, causing you to hum. 

“I think we can just agree we were both idiots for not doing that sooner,” you giggled breathlessly, fingers running through the hair on the nape of his neck. Suddenly, he sat up straight and looked you in the eye with determination. 

“Let me take you on a date,” he practically demanded. You laughed. 

“What, like right now?”

“No, silly,” he rolled his eyes taking your hands in his. “We can wait for the cookies to finish baking and then I’ll take you out.”

You smiled, rested a hand on his neck. “I’d love nothing more.” 

His smile widened, nearly blinding you. He brought is hand up to your chin, pulling you into another long kiss. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled into the kiss knowing you wouldn’t have to spend the holidays alone this year.

_____

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Steve Tags: @cotidi3morimur​, @fruiterias​, @goldenkillmonger​

[so-writing]

Snow 13 - Ivar / Hvitserk x Reader (end)

This is later than planned but I've rewritten so many times that it just needs to go. The end of this! I hope you enjoyed it and I would love some suggestions for future stuff!

--- 

“Wake up,” you rubbed your eyes and focused on the body sitting on you bed, Brenna, “Hvitserk wants to see you.”

The furs hanging over your shoulders didn’t obscure the lace nightdress covering your body. It left nothing to the imagination and you thought Hvitserk would appreciate that. The ball of nerves dancing in your stomach had you on edge the entire time.

“I hope you haven’t waited long,” he smiled sheepishly as he dropped his cloak and leaned down to press his lips to yours.

“I haven’t,” you smiled into his kiss and bit his lip, “will you help me out of my furs?”

You didn’t have to say another word, he was easily untiring your dress and kissing your shoulders.

Dressing quickly, you smiled at the memory of your time with Hvitserk and considered how far the two of you had come since that first night you spent together. You felt slightly guilty visiting him before Ivar. 

Gunnhild was standing guard at his door, she gave you a nod as you walked past and entered his chamber. Hvitserk was sitting in front of the fire without a shirt, the deep purple bruises on his back were visible right away.

“My gods, Hvitserk! Look at you!”

“My love,” he groaned in pain as he turned to face you, “you should see the other guy.” 

“No jokes, Hvitserk! You could have died!”

“That was always the plan, my love.”

You ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, ignoring his painful grunts. He was here, he was alive and there was no way you were ever going to let him get away from you again.

“I missed you so much, Hvit.”

“I know,” he kissed you gently, trying to avoid pressure to his busted lip, “but this isn’t the time. Ivar is awake.”

“So what?”

“So he is your husband,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck, “you need to go to him.”

Hvitserk kissed the length of your neck down to your palm and placed a small knife in your hand while he did it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “finish what I could not.”

The blade was hot in your palm as your left Hvitserk’s chamber and headed toward the one Ivar was fighting to stay alive in. His men gave you odd looks as you approached but they could not deny your entrance.

The room was cold despite the fire burning in the hearth. Ivar was still heavily and bandaged and unable to move much, but his breathing had stabilized and he was doing much better than expected.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and his arm trembled as he reached out to summon you closer to his bed. 

“You are my husband and you are dying, why wouldn’t I be here?”

A chuckle left his lips as he struggled to sit up and recline on his forearms. 

“You are more cunning than I could ever wish to be, my queen. I will miss you.”

“What do you mean, Ivar?”

“You win.”

“What have I won? You are going to die and I will be alone.”

“Silly woman, don’t play those games with me. You would be delighted to send me off the Valhalla. Marry my idiot brother and have a thousand children, I do not care anymore.”

“Do you really feel that way?”

“Yes, you lied to me, you pretended to love me. I wish I could say I was pretending too.”

The blade in your palm was cutting into your skin, reminding you why you were here. He stole your life from you. Aren’t you tired of his control?

“Do you truly love me, or do you just desire what your brothers have?”

Ivar laughed, softer and more hollow sounding than normal. His attempt to lean on his elbows failed and he collapsed back into the bed with a cough.

“My mother told you. This was never about him, I only wanted you. Hvitserk just happened to get in the way of that.”

“Ivar,” you approached his bed and set your hands on his chest, “i’m sorry.”

Blood pooled between your fingers as the sound of his labored breathing filled the room as he struggled to survive. 

“I.. wouldn’t..” the words barely passed his lips while he continued to struggle with his breath.

He couldn’t complete his thought but you knew what he meant. You should not apologize for your actions, if he were in your place, he wouldn’t. 

Finish what I could not.

Tears pooled in your eyes and slid down your face as you forced the blade into Ivar’s chest until his breathing slowed. If he survived he would ruin your life. He would kill everyone you loved and save you for last so you could watch them all die.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t mourn him. Tears mixed with your husband’s blood covered your face as you wiped your eyes and let go of the knife. It remained in his chest but your knees gave out and you slid to the floor, hot tears running down your cheeks. 

Tears pooled in your eyes and slid down your face as you forced the blade into Ivar’s chest until his breathing slowed. If he survived he would ruin your life. He would kill everyone you loved and save you for last so you could watch them all die.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t mourn him. Your cries mixed with your husband’s blood covered your face as you wiped your eyes and let go of the blade. It remained in his chest but your knees gave out and you slid to the floor, unable to stop sobbing and catch your breath. 

“It’s over,” strong arms wrapped around your body and pulled you from the floor, “it’s over.”

Gunnhild lifted you from the ground and helped you leave the room. The tears hadn’t let up and you couldn’t stand without her help. Every muscle in your body hurt and you didn’t think you had the strength to survive the night, but Gunnhild covered you in familiar blankets and you drifted off easily.

*

It was strange waking up the bed you shared with Ivar knowing that he would never join you in it again. You knew you had to bathe and dress and eventually make an announcement about the king’s death and what would happen next. 

Truthfully, you had no idea what you would say to the people.

Ivar may have had his title of king, along with his life, stolen from him but you were still the queen. Several of your ladies rushed into the room and began to prepare your bath. You rubbed the weariness from your eyes and took control. It was time to be the ruler Kattegat needed.

“I brought a dress that I think will fit this occasion appropriately, my queen. We also went to your father’s shop and he provided us with a weapon that I think would suit you well.”

“A weapon?” 

“Yes, you’re the only ruler left, you need to be able to protect yourself.”

“You will look more intimidating, my queen,” a different one piped up, “you will be taken more seriously.”

“Am I not taken seriously?”

It was a question you had never thought to ask but when your ladies busied themselves with work rather than responding, you had your answer.

“What can I do?” 

The words came out of your mouth more pleading than questioning, and as soon as they left your lips, there were three women surrounding you.

“You are Ivar’s queen but it is widely known that you are Hvitserk’s love. You need to play to that strength.”

“You should also go ahead and take over Ivar’s armies! Declare yourself the true queen!”

“Wield your father’s weapon and take no prisoners. Do not show any amount of sympathy for anyone, you will be thought of as weak.”

You had spent so much time under Ivar’s thumb that you never considered your own royalty. He was a tyrant king but you were his queen, and now that he was gone, Kattegat was yours. 

You’d gone from a common blacksmith’s daughter, to the lover a prince, to the wife a king.

Ladies draped your furs around your shoulders, placed your crown on your head, and tucked your father’s sword into your waistband. There was a difference in your attitude as you left the great hall to stand in front of the confused and scared crowd of townspeople. As soon left the hall silence fell over the crowd. They were waiting for you.

It was the first time you truly felt like a queen—the queen of Kattegat—and it was going to stay that way.

tagged: @lol-haha-joke @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @blonddnamedhandz @ivarthebloodyking

[amaikana]

Smitten [a TPN fanfic]

-.-.- Rating: K+ Pair: NorEmma Wordcount: 2k+ Tag(s): Middle School AU, Romantic Comedy, Mistaken Identity, Pansexuality Summary:

“Ray! Ray! Raaaay! I’m having a crisis now, Wake uuuup!”  “The heck you’re doing at 1 a.m?!” “The boy I thought I’m crushing at all this time is actually a girl and she’s actually so much cuter up close but I might just kind of accidentally sexually harassed her in a public library. What should I do nooow?!” “…come again?”

OR, Norman had just experienced his first silly eighth-grader crush on a cute orange haired boy in the library, But then suddenly things took a turn to a completely awkward path.            

A/N: Cross-posted on AO3 -.-.-

.

 “Some of us get dipped in flat, some in satin, some in gloss. But every once in a while, you find someone who's iridescent, and when you do, nothing will ever compare.”

 —A quote from “Flipped” movie

 .

 || Smitten ||

.

Norman first saw the boy in the school library. The boy had a bright orange hair and wearing an equally bright smile. He also still had some baby fat on his cheeks that’s making him so much cuter. Humming quietly an upbeat tune, the boy’s eyes moved back and forth, sorting out through the fantasy fictions shelf. His finger traced the rows of books there. His eyes sparkled with joy when he’d managed to find the book he wanted.

 What an adorable boy.

It’s called having a crush, Ray said. Well, that’s maybe not exactly what he said, but still.

“It means that you’re finally getting that late, late puberty and—God bless—having a crush on someone. It also means that I can be glad now. Because I honestly thought something’s wrong with your head every time your smartass big brain went totally clueless to Barbara’s passive-aggressive attempt at flirting at you since the first year.”

To be fair, it wasn’t that he was totally clueless about Barbara. It’s just he chose not to pay attention to stupid things like Barbara’s every day sweet nonsenses.

“So, who is it?” Ray asked curiously, pausing the game that Norman was winning for the fifth time straight.

Ray must’ve been fishing for distraction because he’s secretly way more frustrated than he let on, Norman thought amusedly.

Ray frowns. “What’s with that face? What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” He grins.

Ray lunged at him and started tickling him, trying to get him to say the truth by force. But five minutes into the tickle fight, everything was forgotten. They never talked about it again for the rest of the day.

“Come to think of it, you haven’t really told me that day,” Ray suddenly says in the middle of their P.E break.

A few good meters away from them, Ms. Krone was sitting on a bench, watching with apparent uninterest all the eighth-grader kids who were playing basket and volley ball in the court. Poor woman. She must’ve been one of those teachers who didn’t actually had any interest in teaching and only in for it for the good salary.

Norman steals a water bottle from Ray’s hand. Ray only rolled his eyes and sighed.

“About what?” he asked, after chugging a good amount of water from the said bottle. Ray knocked his head lightly with the bottle in annoyance when he returned it to him.

“About your crush, Norman!”

“Why are you so invested in it?”

“Why?” Ray frowned. “Don’t you think I have the right to know too? Being your best friend and all.”

“Oh, so you’re finally admitting that I’m your best friend, now? Didn’t you said yesterday that you hated me the most?”

Ray scowled. “That’s only because you kept beating me in Mario Kart and stole my dessert again!”

Norman laughed. “Sorry.”

“Ck, don’t even pretend. I know you’re not.” Ray rolled his eyes again.

“So?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s your crush?”

“You’re so stubborn.”

“I am.”

Norman paused, his mind recalling back to that certain afternoon in the library. The adorable boy with the cute humming voice and the brightest hair. He smiled dopily remembering it.

“It’s…a boy from a seventh grade, I think.”

Norman remembered that the boy was carrying a trigonometry book that day. They had trigonometry in seventh grade here.

Beside him, Ray chocked on his drink. “A…boy?!”

Norman turned at him. “Is that so surprising?”

“I mean, uh, I never know that you’re into boys? It’s just- I support you and all, really. Not that your sexuality would matter to me anyhow. Just… It’s kinda surprising, y’know? It never really crossed my mind that you’re gay.”

“But I am not.”

“Huh?”

He laughed at Ray’s dumbfounded face.

“There’s more spectrum of sexualities in this world beside being straight and gay, Ray.” Norman grins exasperatedly, shaking his head. “For me it’s like, their gender doesn’t really matter? If I find that someone’s cute then they’re cute. I’m sure there’s a name for it… I think they called it ‘pan’ or something?”

“‘Pan’? Like the pan for cooking? Why would you call yourself after a cooking utensil?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s pansexuality to be precise. But beats me. It wasn’t me who came up with the name.”

“Okay. So. You have a crush on a boy. Do you know what his name is? Or at least his class?”

Norman stared blankly. He had only realized it now. “I don’t know. I was too smitten watching him and didn’t think about asking him for it.”

“Wait. So, you’re telling me you totally didn’t talk to him that day? Despite you both being in the library and it was just the two of you? You were just watching him from afar like some sort of creepy stalker?”

He kicked Ray’s leg. “He was just that cute. Almost pretty even, I think.” Norman paused and flushed, remembering that boy’s face again. “It should be pretty justified that I was loss at words! You’d understand yourself when you see him.”

“I mean, I can recognize a good-looking guy when I see one. But to the point of being dumbly smitten? I guess unlikely. You’re forgetting the fact that I’m not into guys.”

The school bell rang, signaling the change of period. And just like that, they dropped the conversation.

Norman didn’t get to see the cute boy again until a few days later, when he’s staying up in the library for a science competition paper research until late night. It might be unusual, but in their school curfew hours didn’t apply to the library. The library was always open 24/7, and all the students were permitted to go out of the dorm even very late at night if it were to the library.

That night, Norman was reading one of the books about electricity theories when he suddenly heard a voice of someone grumbling. The voice came from one of the aisles near his table. Norman decided to take a break for a bit and might as well help the person.

True to his guess, the person was just two bookshelves away from there. The person seemed to struggle reaching out for a book in the top shelf. And as he got closer, Norman could see that the said person was the same cute orange-haired boy he saw the other week.

His heart suddenly did a flip.

“Can I help you there?”

The person turned at him. His bright green eyes looked so mesmerizing. The boy blinked at him. And Norman bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying stupid things. Like ‘how can you be that cute’ or something—Ray would definitely laugh if he knew.

“Uhh, yeah… Can you help me getting that book with yellow cover there?” The boy pointed out at the book he meant.

Norman smiled. “Sure.”

This was honestly the first time he really appreciated the tall gene his parents passed on him.

“Here.” He passed the book to the boy.

But as the boy took a step closer to take it from his hand, he accidentally stepped on his own shoelace and stumbled over.

“Careful!”

Norman reached out to steady the boy. Luckily, he managed to catch the boy in time. But……

 Wait.

Norman realized something. His face immediately flushes.

 He…he…his chest isn’t flat!

“S-sorry!” Norman yelped. He stumbled back as if the boy—wait, girl—burned his hand.

The girl laughed awkwardly, and only now Norman realized that her voice was obviously high-pitched and clearly sounded feminine.

“Yeah. Um. Haha, accidents happen.”

Horror realization suddenly dawned into him. Not only he had mistakenly thought she was a boy, but he also had just kind of accidentally touched her……uh, personal part. And the worst thing was, this girl was his first crush!

“Ray! Ray! Raaaay! I’m having a crisis, Wake uuuup!”

One of the best things about rooming out with your best-friend is that you could dump all your crisis onto them practically whenever you want. As long as they’re awake, that is.

Ray opened his bleary eyes and yawned loudly.

“The heck you’re doing at 1 a.m?!”

“The boy I thought I’m crushing at all this time is actually a girl and she’s actually so much cuter up close but I might just kind of accidentally sexually harassed her in a public library. What should I do nooow?!”

Ray stared dumbfoundedly at him. Then blinked. Then blinked again.

“…come again?”

A can of vending machine coffee and Ray having the best laugh of his life later, Norman managed to get everything out of his chest. And they’re finally having some sane conversation again—because for Heaven’s sake, Ray just won’t stop laughing!

“Okay, okay.” Ray wiped out some of his tears and made an effort to really toning down his laughter. “So, based on your story, it seems that there’s only one solution to this problem.”

“And that is…?”

Ray made a serious face and intentionally dragged the tension out. Norman waited with dread.

“One word, my friend.”

“One word?”

“All you have to do is……Talk!”

“Oh my Gooood!” Norman groaned and buried his face in their cushion pillows. “That’s what I ask your advice for! I can’t possibly initiate another conversation after…after…that! I mean, what if she thinks that I’m a pervert? And what if—”

“You’re having too many ‘what if’s.” Ray rolled his eyes. “Look, based on your story, it sounds like the girl didn’t even really minding it. I mean, not as like, she’s liking it. But like, she doesn’t make it as a big matter. Y’got it?”

“But still! How can I talk to her again after that! I mean, just imagine it. If you’re a girl and a boy who yesterday touched your, uhm, not-so-flat chest, suddenly just randomly talk to you the next day, what would do you think? It’s…ugh. It’s not even just embarrassing. Isn’t that also, uh, kind of creepy? I mean– oh my God. I’m older than her too! That’s—”

“Whoa– Stop right there, buddy! For anything-up-there sake! She’s a seventh grade, not a third grade. You’re not being a creepy older man, what the heck. As I said, you’re having too many ‘what if’s. If you don’t wanna talk, at least just be your usual self and don’t avoid her you’re meeting her again. Now, that’d be pretty rude if you suddenly treating her like some kind of germ.”

Having a talk with Ray was absolutely not helping. Norman walked to school again the next time dreading meeting that seventh grade girl—who he still didn’t know the name yet, by the way.

Turned out fate had some kind of grudges towards him. Because when he walked into library again to borrow some books for his biology essay, the same feminine voice he dreaded to hear suddenly sounded just beside his ear.

“Umm, hello…”

Norman managed to bit his tongue to stifle the yelp just in time. He turned around and found that it was really the cute girl from before. She was wearing their uniform dress-code this time. A white buttoned shirt and rippled black skirt, instead of some jacket dan jeans he saw her wearing the two times he met her before.

“Uh, haha. Um. Yes. Hi.”

“Um, hi too. Uhh, you’re the boy from last night, righ—”                                                

“L-last night. Yeah. I mean. I’M SORRY! I promise I didn’t really mean to be a pervert or something and I am not weird I promise even thought I totally mistook you as a boy for like a week anyway I mean that doesn’t count as weird right I mean, uh, sorry, um—”

The girl laughed. “Hahahah, oh my God. It’s okay, it’s okay. I know that was an accident.”

“Uhh, yeah. Accident. Totally.”

The girl stared exasperatedly at him. “You’re so funny.”

“Um. Thanks.” Then, because apparently smooth wasn’t in his genes, he tackled again, “You’re so cute.”

The girl blushed and giggled awkwardly, and it was the cutest thing Norman ever seen. Apart from catching Ray hugging a body pillow, that is.

They both stood awkwardly in front each other. And Norman found his supposedly gifted IQ was useless at making conversation when facing cute people.

“Do you like ice cream?” he finally blurted out.

“E-eh? Y-yeah. I mean. Yes! I really like it! I like strawberry cheesecake flavor. W-what about you?”

“Me? Um…I’m not really picky, but I think I like choco mint the most?”

The girl laughed again. “Cool! It was my favorite before. Hey, I know! You should try the strawberry cheesecake one. We might have the same taste in ice creams!”

He beamed. “That’s a good idea. Hey, let’s go out for ice cream this weekend. We can try many flavors we haven’t tried and finding out whether we really have the same taste!”

The girl stared at him dumbfoundedly, and Norman wondered if he had said the wrong thing.

“I-is it a date?” the girl blurted out.

“E-eh?!”

The girl immediately flushed bright and buried her face in her hands. “Oh my God, sorry to jump to conclusions just like that. I just thought—”

“I-it could be a date!” he hurriedly cut her.

The girl slowly peeked through her fingers. “R-really?”

Norman smiled and nodded. “Yes.” Then he grabbed the girl’s wrists and peeled them off of her still-blushing cute face. “Of course. I’d like dating withyou too!”

“Heeeh?!”

It took Norman a moment to realize that date and dating are two similar words with different meanings.

“I-I MEAN—”

“Please tell me you were serious because I definitely have a crush on you since seventh grade!”

It was his turn to be dumbfounded.

The girl snapped her mouth shut with her palms again. “Oops. I wasn’t supposed to say that yet……wasn’t I?”

Norman laughed awkwardly. Because he wasn’t sure how to react with the sudden confession. “Um…I think I kind of have a crush on you too…since that time I first saw you in the library. L-last week, I mean. N-not last night.”

“Wow…” the girl whispered. Her bright green eyes widened and stared at him a mix of awe and embarrassment.

“Uh… I think we should probably slow down a bit, though.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Well, for starters how about some kind of introduction? I mean, I don’t even know your name yet, so…”

The girl smiled. She averted her eyes shyly to the side before meeting his again. “Y-yeah. Um, okay. I go first. Since I already know yours.” She let out an awkward chuckle. “I-I’m Emma. Eighth grade, as you might’ve guessed. I’m rooming with my seventh grade friend, Gilda. I…I kinda like you since I saw you in the quiz competition in our school festival fair last year. W-well, you might not remember me because my team got eliminated in the second round. Uhh, haha. B-but… Y-you were so cool back then.” The girl grinned shyly.

“Wow. Okay. Uh… My name’s Norman. Eighth grade too. And, uh… Okay. You probably already knew those things. So… uhm. Oh my God. This is a mess, I’m so sorry.”

The girl—who he knew now, named Emma—giggled again. “It’s okay. We’re both kinda a mess here.”

“Yeah… You’re right.” He laughed.

The atmosphere seemed a bit lighter now that they’ve already talked about the elephant in the room.

“Um, by the way… You said you’re eighth grade, right? But… I thought you were seventh. If I recall correctly, you were borrowing trigonometry book back then…”

“Ooh, you saw me on that day! I was borrowing some books for my roommate. She had some assignments for the next day, but she caught a terrible flu so I offered to borrow it for her.”

“You’re such a good roommate,” he commented.

“Well, roommates are usually our closest friends, right? I bet you’re a good roommate too!”

“My roommate is…kind of a handful. Also annoying. Well, yeah, he’s my best-friend though.”

“I know right! Sometimes roommates can be so annoying! Eh, wait…doesn’t that mean that they also find us annoying?”

He laughed. Emma was so refreshing.

“Hey, um, I think we still have about half an hour for the break. Want to go to the cafeteria and grab lunch together?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Emma agreed. “Now that you mentioned the cafeteria, I’m starting to get hungry again.”

Norman laughed. Meeting Emma was unexpected. Her straight-forward personality was even more unexpected. But it was so much fun, so he’s definitely not going to complaint much.

.

(BONUS SCENE)

“Do you think I should wear the light green stripped one or the plain blue one? Should I wear varsity jacket too? Or maybe some vest on it?”

Ray groaned for the umpteenth time just in that hour. “I swear, Norman! I bet she won’t even care even if you showed up with some washed up t-shirt and crocs!”

Norman stared at him as if he had just said something so scandalizing.

Suddenly, a door to their room was thrown open. A mop of orange hair burst in.

“Raaaay! I’m having a date with this cute boy in an hour and you should help me—”

Emma, his friend, paused at the door with a comical jaw drop. Ray glanced back to find his roommate mirroring her expression.

“You—”

“You—”

Ray regretted that he didn’t have his camera with him. That one was definitely picture-worthy.

[ao3feed-spirk]

by everyours

haha, what if your mom made you handknitted sweaters..... and i stole one..... and we're both cadets...... and then we fall in love... that'd be silly.... unless?

Words: 1760, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Amanda Grayson, Sarek (Star Trek), Spock (Star Trek), James T. Kirk, Michael Burnham (mentioned) - Character, Sybok (mentioned)

Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock, Amanda Grayson/Sarek

Additional Tags: amanda knits sweaters for spock because its cold on earth, au where they are a semi-functional family

[modestmuses-a]

How I Run My Blog

Speed:  I do my best!  I try to get anywhere from 1-4 replies written a day, depending on how busy I am with other stuff and depending on how long the replies are.  And I currently owe 13 replies.  So it'll take me at least 3-4 days to get through them all.  I usually don't take any more than a week to reply, though, so I encourage people to poke me if it's taking much longer than that.

Replies:  I'm very much a wing-it rper.  I don't... usually plot super heavily.  The most plotting I do generally is deciding when, where, and how the characters will meet and that's it.  Maybe throw out some vague ideas for future interactions, but yeah.

Also, I used to be first-in-first-out on this blog, but now... while I try to respond to the oldest threads first, I often skip around a lot.  Like, I'll do two or three of the first ones, and then I'll jump down to the middle of my list.  For the sake of my sanity.  Doing things in order all the time sometimes bores me.

Starters:  I don't mind writing starters!  I actually tend to write the starters if they're for plotted threads and not from a meme or somebody else's starter call or something.  Back when I rp'd on a different site, I was usually the one to start threads there too.

Not that I mind, of course!  Often times, I like writing the starters myself because I generally already have an idea in mind.  Like, I was planning the Shen & Akali reunion starter in my head for weeks before I finally worked up the courage to ask Frost about it, so I dunno what I would have done if they would've been like, "Oh, I'll write the starter!" fkdjkf

Inbox:  My inbox is always open and nearly always empty!  So feel free to climb in it whenever!  I even moved a link to my meme tag onto the home page of my blog, and I'm basically always accepting ask memes.  I reblogged the meme 2 months ago?  Fuck it, send it anyway.  We already have 30 threads?  Fuck it, send it anway.

I also tend to prioritize inbox messages over regular replies, so y'know.

Selectivity:  I'm selective mostly based on theme and font choice, which seems shallow, but like... you gotta keep in mind that I'm fucking blind.  If I have to blow your theme up to 150% or more just to read it, then I'm not gonna follow you!!  Also, if your theme has a font where all of your italicized words get turned into cursive, lemme just ask you this: why????  Why would you do that to my poor eyes.  I don't mind if people write in tiny text for their ~aesthetic~ or whatever, as long as it's still legible at 125%.

I'm also somewhat selective based on age?  Like, there are a couple of minors that I follow, but I definitely feel most comfortable playing with other adults, I think, if only because I've had some pretty bad experiences trying to rp in a fandom with quite a few minors in it before.

But other than that, I'm not overly selective really!!

Wishlist:  @seishin-hinan coming through for me with my Shen & Akali reunion thread.  And recently (like as of today), @essence-flux-primed coming through for me with my "Ekko & Ezreal forced to team up for something even though neither one of them really likes each other" thread.

Tbh, I have a lot of really little ultra-specific plot ideas that I'm kind of too shy to ask for most of the time because I feel like! they might be silly! but y'know!!  Like this section alone could probably be 30 pages long, but I'll spare you.

Also... just in general... I... would really love to do more with my non-League muses!  I know 85% of my followers are only here for the League muses really, but... the others need some love too!  Particularly Ivy since she's the new one and I haven't gotten to do nearly as much as I want with her.

Ivy-specifc wishlist item would be... some excuse to use my Ivy-with-gun icons, haha!

Honest Note:  I fucking... write way too much all the time.  I always tell people this, but it really is one of the most important things to remember about this blog!  You don't need to match my length!  Ever!  It's ok!  In fact, I feel really bad when people feel the need to really force themselves to match my length because!  That's not fun!  Forcing yourself to meet some arbitrary word count isn't fun, and it stifles creativity.  And I don't wanna be the person who makes rp hard/unfun for someone so!

You should also never feel intimidated my long replies either!  If you're putting off responding to our thread because you can't write that much, don't even sweat it!  I straight-up spat out 5 paragraphs in response to one sentence once, so like.

Tagged by: no one, I stole it

Tagging: no one, do it if you feel like!

[yoshimickster]

WELCOME TO THE ANGST ZONE-RWBY Volume 6x02 “Uncovered” Micksterecap(Rwby volume 6 spoilers)

HEY EVERBAH-happy Saturday-WELCOME BACK TO MICKSTERECAP! I’m sure this episode will start out with  something completely norma-

HOLY SHIT-Cinder’s corpse!  OOOOOOOOOOOOR  IS  IT?!

1:49 HUZZAH-she’s alive-OR IS SHE?!  I ask because I’m  live-blogging here, FRESH reactions today!

But seriously, TURNS OUT-this isn’t a dream sequence and she IS still alive...for NOOOOOOW! Cinder than punches her way out of the cave using what LITTLE strength she had left after her Avatar battle with Raven “Mother of the Year” Branwen, and upon escaping-SHE MEETS-

2:57 SOME RANDOM LADY WITH  FOOD! Man THAT was convenient eh Cinder? Will she beg for food, or just murder her and take the basket-LET’S FIND  OU-

3:11  We need to take the relic to Atlas?

GAH-I forgot this show had multiple plotlines-CURSE YOU SHOW I LOVE!

AW  NEAT-a  pointless flashback, taking place in that house that they...rented? Or did Qrow or the school own it? They never explained WHOSE house that was and it will always always ALWAYS bug me despite it never mattering in terms of plot.

BUT-said flashback ALSO features Weiss’ initial response  to going  back to Atlas!

3:20

“You’ve GOT to be joking”.

I feel for  ya Weiss, escape your shit  dad in Atlas, pay a plane to leave, get attacked by  bees, get kidnapped by one of your possible love-interest’s moms, go to a school, fight bad guys, get IMPALED, get healed by ANOTHER of your possible love-interest( I said POSSIBLE, don’t hate me) ONLY to learn your going  back to the place you escaped! MAN-how she don’t have whiplash from that I don’t know HOW she wouldn’t!

They also  bring up a nice secondary reason for bringing the  relic to Atlas that I admittedly didn’t think  of-

3:33

Qrow: Without the Spring  Maiden here to  seal the relic back in its vault,  its our best option.

Yang:  And I just want to say its NO-ONE’S FAULT for not having Raven  seal the  vault back up after verbally decimating her for years of neglect.

Ruby: Yang its cool, you needed a cry.

3:50 We ALSO LEARN why their going to Argus in the first place, its the last Atlas  military installation that still has soldiers...and considering Adam  MOST PROBABLY hijacked the train to Argus they  BEST get  to steppin’ after this flashback is  done!

Through that they figure through  either asking nicely, or telling them they found  one of three of Jacques Schnee’s abuse victims that they could get to Atlas. After they set up the low-down, Jaune asks Oz-

4:38

Jaune: Speaking of, what does it(the  relic) do, exactly?

Oz: HAHA-definitely doesn’t attract monsters-DEFINITELY not!

But seriously, turns out it can answer ANY three questions(GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENIE) once every 100 years about the present or past. NORA of course geeks out about it-

5:29 

Nora: CAN WE ASK FOR MORE QUESTIONS?! CAN WE ASK WHY ME AND REN HAVEN’T KISSED ON SCREEN YET?!

Ruby: Yeah what’s up with that, y’all are CLEARLY a couple!

Ren: I’m as confused as you are.

SADLY THOUGH-the magical knowledge genie can’t answer ANY of our deepest ship questions as  it turns out they were all used up before it was sealed-OR WERE THEY?! Seriously I’m legit wondering, for all we know Oz is lying.

5:40 Ruby: Well, we’ll be sure to keep it safe.

Yang: GIMME THAT STUPID LAMP-I’ma SMASH IT! 

Ruby: Isn’t that more Nora’s thing?

Yang: I DON’T CARE I’M JUST PISSED AT OUR STUPID PRINCIPAL IN A FARMBOY’S BODY!

But seriously everyone is LOGICALLY pissed off about the current  run of events, half their party is gone, Yang’s gonna push her motorcycle she should’ve left at home through  snow-

6:11 -and they  now have ANOTHER mysterious mystic old person who REEKS  of  mysterious mysticism...AAAAAAAAAAND THE PROOOOOOOOOOOOOM IS TOMOOOOOOOOOOOORROW! Remember that joke? Practically dissapeared.

LOGICALLY pissed off at Ozpin for LYING about how the ancient relic of ultimate destiny attracted murderous chimera after them, and I’m sure he won’t pull some bull-shit line like-

6:47

Ozpin: I did not lie  to you.

PFFT-look at Maria’s face here, her bullshit detectory is on POINT! Because not  informing them of the dangerous GRIMM MAGNET wasn’t a half-truth. Can we get a wizard who DOESN’T give the main heroes the run-around with their bullshit for a change, CAN WE PLEASE?!

Oz than  explains that the reason he  held  the truth  is because  he wanted to save them from anxiety and negativity, AS WELL as that being the reason for why he had it so Lionheart wasn’t revealed to be a traitor after his death, in what KINDA sounds like  a villain speech, even going  as  far  as saying “The people of Remnant  deserve more than the truth”, (because THAT line is never condescending) as WELL as saying he’s been betrayed so many times he’s straight up used to it.

Oz than  puts it all to a head when he asks where the relic is and TURNS OUT-

8:32 RUBY HAS IT! Way to stay on task girl, especially in quite possibly the most STRESSFUL year of your LIFE! Remember the silly school dance? I miss that.

Ruby than LOGICALLY calls him out for saying he had so much faith in humanity in these years when the opposite is true. Its also a good thing that he didn’t lie about the relic not being able to ask questi-

9:10

Oscar:HURRY...he’s trying...to stop you...he’s afraid you’ll find out...what  he’s hiding!

...well that’s ominous but as long as it turns out the relic still can’t work I say its o-

9:31 

Oscar: Her name...is Djinn...say her name to summon her.

...well that’s good to know but AS OZPIN SAID-the relic TOTALLY doesn’t work so saying it won’t do ANYTHI-

Ruby:...Djinn?

9:45 ...OKAY-time just happened to freeze, I’M SURE NOTHING ELSE OZPIN MURDERINGLY MAGICAL HAPPE-

10:33 Djinn: Wonderful!

...OKAY-so there was a genie in it that every single person on planet Earth saw coming, but SURELY it still can’t answer 3 questi-

10:40 Tell me, what knowledge do you seek?

SON OF A BITCH OZPIN-not ONLY did you lie about the lamp housing a genie whose PRIME waifu material, but ALSO lied about the questions being used up! Because just saying “Don’t use the relic to ask questions” would be SO hard you dis-trustworthy ass old man!

Well surely the next thing to happen is Team RWBYOMQ asking how to best murder Ozpi-

10:47 ...or cut to a random dirty ass alley, because the writers like to TORTURE us!

10:55 DAMN-Cinder, you even stole the bitch’s CLOTHES! What are you, the Terminator?!

Cinder walks through the rainy ass street of scum and villainy-UNTIL SHE SEES-

11:37 RANDOM SPIDER-MAN GRAFFITI! Didn’t know Remnant had such a Marvel fan-base, NEAT!

But seriously, it turns out to be the INSIGNIA OF-

PURPLE CLAD GANGSTERS! I gotta  assume they are like, REALLY good criminals becasue DEAR GOD do her two guards look silly, LOOK AT THEIR SCARFS!

Cinder than bribes her  for information-

Cinder: You’re little Miss Malachite?

Malachite: Is that a fat joke or color joke? Because I’ve TRIED changing my name to Violet, but UGH the system.

She then tells Spiderlady that she’s looking for team RWBYJNR by SHOWING HER-

12:35 SEASON THREE SCREEN SHOTS! ALSO-yes those are all from the Vytal festival, for some reason I thought the JNPR pics were from the placement exam. And now we wait for the Pyrrha fans to be mad she was cropped out!

AFTER Little Miss Malachite(Her name should STILL be Violet dammit, or maybe Amethyst) gives a spooky spider speech, she tells Cinder she’ll find the team in a few days-BUT IT TURNS OUT-

13:34 

Chaps: Little Miss, we all ready know where they are.

Little Miss:  Oh really, we do? Why don’t you say it louder SO THE MYSTERIOUS MURDER LADY WE DON’T KNOW CAN HEAR YOU?!

Cinder: What was that?

Little Miss: Nothin’ sweetie, just makin’ creepy spider metaphors!

A THEN CUT BACK TO-

13:55 MARIA-adjusting her broken ass cyborg eyes to double-check if she’s not looking at a floating Navii from Avatar.

And WOULDN’T YA KNOW IT-turns out Djinn can still answer TWO more questions this era! ALSO-

14:25 

Djinn: A-heh, its a pleasure to see you again old man.

AND-she’s met Oz before, PROBABLY since he asked the first question.

Ozpin pleads Ruby not to ask Djinn a question, which prompts Qrow  to ask-

Qrow: Hey-

Weiss: WANNA DIE OLD MAN?!

Qrow: GAH-I was just gonna tell Ruby to do what she felt was right!

Yang: Well excuuuuuuuuuuuuuuse us if we can’t trust OLD PEOPLE RIGHT NOW!

Ruby than asks Djinn what is Ozpin hiding from them WHICH CAUSES OZPIN-

14:56 ...to...attempt to  tag her...slap her...push her-WHAT WERE YOU ATTEMPTING TO DO TO MY DAUGHTER YOU WEIRD OLD MAN?!

BUT-before Ozpin  can  commit attempted assault and/or attempted game of tag-TEAM RWBYQOM-

A FREAKY ASS VOID-that turns INTO-

“Once upon a time, there stood a lonely tower”-

ALSO-

Blake turns into Qrow because...genies? BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT-

“-that sheltered a lonely girl...named-

“-Salem”.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH SHIT-Salem used to look NORMAL ONCE! BACKSTORY MOTHER FUCKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERS!

AND THAT’S SEASON SIX EP TWO-following the classic RWBY formula of exposition episode after action episode and I gotta say we learned...A LOT! FOR ONE-Ozpin pulls a full Rose Quartz in revealing he’s not the ethical leader we all thought he was, AS WELL as showing he has a secret connection TO Salem, implying...A BILLION possible things  that I won’t put here because this is a recap blog and not a theory blog perse. HOO BOY-what a cliffhanger, NEXT WEEK-backstory time baby! SEE YOU NEXT WEEK on MICKSTERECAP!

   If you like what you read, donate to my paypal here, or my Kofi page here. I put the link for my Paypal and Kofi here as I have JUST now realized the paypal link is under the search bar on my Tumblr homepage and is impossible to click so THERE ya go!