#I couldn’t resist okay XD

[deputyash]

If assassin bad, why hot? 🥺

[pinkiemachine]

Heheh…

Okay, so this one’s way more silly than my normal comics, but I just couldn’t resist—it made me laugh XD

Call it the unofficial Wonder Mom Pt… whatever XD

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.

Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.

OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT

Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 2899

Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining

A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:

-----

The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 

And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 

But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 

Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 

That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 

You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 

Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.

You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 

“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 

“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 

“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 

Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 

“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 

“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 

“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 

It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 

Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 

There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 

You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 

“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.

“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 

“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 

The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 

“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 

Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 

You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 

“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 

“What’d you do this weekend?” 

“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 

Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 

“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.

You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 

Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 

“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 

Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 

You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 

“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 

Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 

You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 

God, you were down bad. 

“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 

“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 

You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 

That was all you needed to hear. 

— — —

You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 

Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 

You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 

After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 

As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 

“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 

It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.

Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 

You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 

The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 

“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 

Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 

Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 

Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 

As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 

“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 

“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 

You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 

But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 

No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.

——

read part 2 here

[elvenbeard]

Kerry looked at the lack of new messages on his phone, not really impatient, not nervous, but something strange in-between... Full of anticipation, more like it. Right on the edge of where it was still exciting but also slowly turning into nerve-wracking agony.

It was almost 9 p.m., the music was blaring across the dancefloor the next room over, and even here, in this little hallway to the side, the laser show was still impressively bold. Private braindance cabins were lined up closely here, clients came and went, paid him little mind as they passed him by on their way in and back out of Lizzie’s Bar.

Not Kerry’s usual scene, admittedly. Not for lack of trying or interest, it was more this place in particular. The music, the crowd, the fashion and food… just awfully reminded him how fucking old he was. Usually, to make it through the night in a bar like this, he’d need a decent amount of booze, even better some candy, but currently that was still out of the question, as his date for the night hadn’t arrived yet… And damn, he was running late. Kerry wished he could say that was unusual. He hoped it was part of the plan, at least.

Or maybe he just had trouble finding him here… Kerry had decided to remove himself from the crowd a little, had noticed a few stares here and there. Not that he minded, but again, he was waiting still, and didn’t really want to mingle on his own, or worse, however unlikely it was in this place, spend the night giving autographs. He looked back on the screen, mindlessly scrolled through the last text messages…

“Hey handsome,” a voice purred next to him, pulled him back to reality. Had Kerry not instantly recognized it, he may have panicked, or just made up a blatant lie as to why he had to leave. Instead, he could finally slip his phone back in his pocket and looked up with a smile. A young man leaned against the wall right next to him, provocatively – he definitely fit in here better than Kerry did. Colorful hair and a cocky grin, striking amber eyes framed by smudgy dark eyeliner. Kerry only just managed to hold back the question where in his closet V had kept the neon-purple net-tanktop he wore, if he’d had it hidden in some box or corner. Knowing him though, he probably saw it in a store and had the idea for this mystery date-night before even buying it.

“You look bored. How come, in a place as interesting as this?” V, no, the mysterious stranger of course, asked. He lifted his hand to gently tug on Kerry’s jacket’s lapel. Kerry smiled.

“Hmm, guess I didn’t meet anyone that caught my interest yet,” he said, couldn’t resist reaching up to quickly brush his fingers along V’s arm, across his hand, squeeze his fingers just for a moment. He could see in V’s eyes that he was struggling to stay serious and cool, noticed the light flush of his cheeks. Kerry couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well,” V said, pausing briefly, before looking Kerry in the eyes again, “Maybe I can be the one to make this night more interesting for you…”

Gently he took Kerry’s hand, and Kerry more than willingly followed as he led him to the dancefloor.

jasdökfhadfaf okay I haven't done something in this format for a while and it was really fun XD Sorry for the long post but yes!!

In my hc they often go on "mystery" dates like this, sometimes more elaborate scenarios like here with a secretive meeting in a location previously agreed upon. Sometimes it's just something simple as meeting for a coffee and pretending to be someone else or not knowing each other XD The tradition started at Caliente's when V was late and Kerry was (rightfully) mad, pretended he didn't know him and complained to him about how his boyfriend is never on time (because talking about difficult stuff like this "indirectly" with a stranger feels easier for some reason). Vince played along right away, also blaming the boyfriend for being really shitty and yeah XD It developed from there just into a fun thing to spice things up a bit now and then when normal life and appointments and all that stuff gets too overwhelming. A little escape from reality if you will (and simultaneously learning to appreciate reality again, too, because usually after a night out like that they're both exhausted and just happy to stay in and cuddle the next day xD).

IM VERY NORMAL ABOUT THEM AND DONT DAYDREAM ABOUT THIS A LOT AT ALL BTW öakhjsdfdasfadösfhasdfdsfa I'll see myself out xDD

[romanarose]

Hi ma’am, I’m not even sure if I can request things, and feel free to ignore this if I can’t (so sorry). But if you do take request, may I asked for a story where the reader sees mark attack/kill someone or something and gets scared of him? Where the reader avoids them like the plague until Steven breaks down one day on the door step or something? I dunno, sorry again if you don’t take request. Thanks for reading this, and feel free to change it up. Buh-bye, ma’am.

First off can I say im SO SORRY this has been in my ask for like. a month. more. I would like to blame it on school and work, but I can't. I just kept getting distracted with other fics and forgetting. BUT I love this idea!

My asks absolutly are open, it just might take me a min XD

Anyway, I took a little creative liberty with this. A lot of my fics deal with the man being protective of the reader/oc but I loved this idea bc it deals with what if it goes too far?

I'm terrible at names for one shots so

Nothing Alike

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x reader

Warnings: violence, blood, Marc Spector typical shenanigans, cat calling, street harassment

****************

“Babe come on! You can’t possibly look me in the fucking eye and tell me episode fucking III is your favorite Star Wars movie!” Marc Spector held your hand as you walked down the streets of the city, just coming home from the local theater’s special reshowing of Revenge of the Sith. 

“Oh I most definitely can, because it is!” You defended, giggling.

“Because of Obi-Wan?” Marc mimics Anakin in the movie. For someone who claimed to hate the prequels, he certainly knew a lot of lines.

You scoff “Oh please babe, you know damn well I like my men a little more dark and brooding” You leverage his hand to pull him closer, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Ah! So, you just like me because of your childhood crush on another murderer”

“Marc!” You stop him on the street. He looks apologetic, he knows what he did. “You know I don’t like it when you call yourself that.”

Marc opened his mouth to argue, but when he saw you looking so hurt, he couldn’t. You loved him and you thought the world of him, you, Steven and Jake somehow managed to see past the worst of him. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You do, remind me of him.” You both of his hands, squeezing them tight. “Because you are both passionate, loving, and protective of those you love. I see all your good traits in him. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

You pulled him in for kiss on the lips as his hands went to your arms. “Jesus baby, you’re cold.” He took off his jacket and gave it to you. You wanted to argue that no, it’s his jacket, he must be cold too, and you should’ve thought to bring one sing you knew you’d be walking back late at night. But… it smelled like him.

“Now.” You continue with a smile. “One thing I think we can both agree on is that duel.”

You begin chattering about the movie again, Marc sporting a wide grin the whole time. When you saw a man walking towards the two of you, on instinct you latched onto Marc, him pulling you close in a protective grasp. The man passed you, and your peripheral vision caught him blatantly checking you out.

“Daaaaayum mama, whatcha doing with all that ass?” 

Marc whipped around. “What did you just say?”

You gripped him tighter. “Marc, don’t.” You were grateful that Marc always watched out for you, but you knew his temper could be as hot as hell.

Marc wasn’t even looking at you. “What. Did. You. Say?” He asserted.

The man raised his hands defensively. “Hey man, just passing a compliment. She shouldn’t dress like a whore if she doesn’t want to get-” He never got to finish the sentence.

Marc charged on him as soon as he called you a whore. His fury was a white hot blinding rage, incapable of hearing anything, whether it be the man or you, both begging him to stop.

The man went down like a paper doll, barely any resistance. One punch. Another. Another. 

“Marc stop! That’s enough!” You shriek. He didn’t need to do this. A good, strong punch to teach a lesson, sure. A few more might be justified if he had actually touched you, but this? For a catcall? He was younger, early 20’s maybe, perhaps even late teens. Old enough to know better, but not old enough to suffer whatever permanent damage Marc was inflicting.

Blood was covering the man's face from his nose and mouth sputtering blood, but this only seemed to spur Marc on more. That’s when you realized it. He was going to kill him. He was trying to kill him.

You want to touch him, put a hand on his shoulder, knowing how your touch always calmed him… but as you watched the ferocity in which Marc was attacking the man… you couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire with the man. He would never hurt you on purpose, but the look on his face… it was like it wasn’t even him.

“STEVEN! JAKE!” You scream for your other boyfriends. “STOP HIM!! He’s going to kill him!” 

Marc began to falter as he, you assumed, fought for control. It was Jake that took the body in the end, having more experience stealing control out from under Marc. 

He collapsed back onto the concrete, wide-eyed and panting. You rush to the man on the ground, checking his pulse. “Thank god.” You breathe out, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” Jake asks, sitting up. “We need to go.” “He’s unconscious, I need to call for an ambulance” You hold the phone to the man’s face. Not recognition. “Hold a light to his face so I can get this phone to work.”

Jake stood up, trying to pull on you. “I will call from my apartment, I need to get you home.” He insisted.

You groan, frustrated that they never fucking listen. “If you call from your phone they’ll ask questions, they’ll have your number and they’ll question you! Your fucking fists are split open, they'll fucking know!”

“Then just leave him” Jake pulled on you again.

You smack his leg, “Let go!” You didn’t want his hands on you right now. “And get me a fucking light!” 

He was knelt down at you, phone lighting the man’s face. You knew right away it was Steven. It worked, and you called 911 from the man’s phone, told them a man was beat up on the street and the address, then you hung up.

“Let’s go” You shakily breath out. 

“Of course, love.” He goes to touch you, but stops when you flinch.

“Just… can you just walk behind me, Steven?” You were trembling. He wanted to hold you, he wanted to assure you everything was okay, that you were safe… but the way you flinched…

She’s shaking…

Tell her it’s okay, tell her he can’t hurt her

Jesus christ Marc, she’s not scared of the man.

What are you talking about?

She’s scared of you, pendejo.

“Yeah, yeah darling, whatever you need”

Marc and Jake were abnormally silent the whole walk, as were you. When you got back to your apartment, Steven started to step in, but you held out a hand. “I- I-m tired, Steven”

He hesitated, not wanting to leave you alone after all that. “That’s okay, we can just go right to bed.”

You shook your head. “No, no I think I’m just gonna spend the night alone tonight.”

“Darling, I don’t want to leave you alone after-”

“Then skulk around outside or something, fuck!” You shout, then regain your composure. This wasn’t Steven’s fault. “Sorry, sorry, sorry… I just, need to decompress, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow?”

But you didn’t. They waited the entire day for you to call. Nothing.

On the second day Steven called you. He gave you the first day to “decompress” as you said. The third day Jake tried, leaving a very apologetic voice message.

‘Amor, please just call us back, we just want to know you’re okay’ it went on another 2 minuets.

The calls continued for days.

Marc, you should call

She doesn’t want to hear from me.

Enough self pity. I’m tired of it. You need to call her and make things right.

Maybe he’s right, maybe it’s not a good idea. She probably finally realized what we are and decided to back out.

Christ, not you too. I’m not giving up that easy.

He didn’t.

It went on for a week, and Steven had enough. If you never wanted to see them again, he’d respect that of course, but he wasn’t going to just stop. He was going to try. Steven Grant, if nothing else, rolled with the punches. How did that song go? I get knocked down, but I get up again, you aint ever gonna keep me down.

When you heard knocking at the door, you knew who it was. Who the hell just shows up to a place unannounced anymore? Only Steven Grant. You look in the peephole to check. Yep, you were right. You waited for him to knock again. He did, gently but loud enough you could hear him in the room. It wasn’t insistent, it wasn’t angry. He didn’t want to scare you. You knew he wouldn’t knock unendingly until you answered. He’s not like that.

“Listen, I figure you’re home.” Steven called in. He knew you’d be home, you always were this time of day. And he knew you were on the other side of the door, listening. “I know Marc scared you. Marc scared himself too… He hasn’t hardly been around all week. Jake’s always pretty quiet. Been rather lonely…” Steven trailed off, then regained himself. “You don’t have to answer the door or anything, but if you could call? Or text? Or something? Just so we know it’s over. I understand if you…” 

Watching him through the peephole, you see Steven whipped back a tear as he cleared his throat. 

“We love you, so, so much, and whatever it is we need to do to make this right… We’ll do it. I understand if you don’t want to be with us anymore. I understand that Marc- That we scared you” Steven tried to take the blame off Marc, knowing he was likely listening. “I promise we understand. You don’t even have to give us a proper goodbye. Just… Let us know, please?”

Steven takes a shaky breath, and turns to leave, to allow you space, but you unlock the bolt and swing the door open, nearly tackling him in the process.

It takes a moment for him to realize what’s happening, but as soon as he registers your face buried in his chest, he carefully hugs you back. When you tighten your hold on him, he takes that as permission to hug you tighter.

“I missed you, Steven” You mutter, then add. “I missed all of you.”

“I’m so sorry for last week, love, so, so sorry, so is Jake, so is Marc- we can’t say enough and if this is it we understand-”

You pull back, still holding him. “No, sweetheart, no… I’m not breaking up with you…”

Hesitantly, Steven looked at you. “I sense a ‘but’ coming”

You nod, a small, sad smile on your face. “But, Marc needs to change. He needs to work on his anger. Because I will not live around that, and I will not allow our children to grow up with that.”

The was a pause as Steven watched you. “Our children?”

You smile a bit, falling a little more in love with him with that look on his face. “In the future… if you all want…” You glance at the floor, shuffling nervously. 

He nodded, a tiny smile on his face. “I do… I don’t know about the others but-”

I do

I’ll change, I promise. No more violence, not around her… I’ll get my anger under control… I just don’t know how. I don’t want… I dont want to be like my-

You’re not.

“They do too… Marc promises to work on himself, work on his anger.”

“I’ll help him.” You return to hugging Steven, having missed their touch all week. “We’ll find other outlets.”

Okay

“Marc says he’ll do it.”

Steven smelled the shampoo in your hair as his hands felt your back, he never wanted to let go again, refamiliarizing himself with you.

“Does Marc want to talk?”

Not yet. I need… I need a little time. Until I can trust myself.

“He’s not ready yet, is that alright?”

You nod against his chest. “Can you tell him something for me? Just because… I know he’s thinking it.”

“Of course, love.”

“Make sure he knows, he’s nothing like his mom.”

*************

I hope this was what you were looking for and again IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONGThis is probably gonna flop like all my marc fics do but here you go

taggong the usual hoes

if you'd like to be added or removed from my general tag list but y'all seem to generally like my nonsense

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ahookedheroespureheart @lucianadraven32 @itspdameronthings @welcometostayingawake @in-between-the-cafes

[nerdasaurus1200]

Nerdy’s Costume Party Day 28!

Okay so I’m kinda cheating with this but @twotangledsisters gave me the idea of a soldier and a thief and I couldn’t resist XD On Halloween night Cobra McBloodpuncher loves to cause mischief so it’s up to Captain Fitzherbert to take her down

[twilightknight17]

Last night on P5T, the sky is a clockwork hell, but it’s okay, because we’re doing the traditional P5 information cutscene! And as usual… we still don’t manage to clear up everything!

(Seriously. I will never stop making fun of the fact that the post-Plan cutscene is a 2 hour infodump and STILL doesn’t answer everything. XD)

Anyway, it’s nice to have everyone together in the Velvet Room.

Lavenza fits in great with the rest of the Thieves. Now if only we could convince her to come fight with us, we’d have no problems getting through anything else in our way. ;)

But she can at least shed some light on what Salmael is, because as usual, it’s a manifestation of a human instinct gone berserk.

Congrats, kids, on reaching a point where we can discuss Yaldabaoth by name! Scramble's timeline never managed that. XD

According to Lavenza, unlike the God of Control, which came from people’s desires to be idle and leave all the decisions up to someone else, Salmael is the personification of humanity’s self-preservation instinct.

Which makes sense, in terms of Persona final bosses. It makes as much sense as the personification of the desire for bonds, or the personification of the desire for solitude, so we’re all good so far. But, hm. They keep talking about what makes it different from the God of Control, but…

…...who does THAT sound like, Atlus? Hm? Is this a god damn sequel or not? It has to be Royal’s universe. Joker’s got his grappling hook, Morgana and the others know Lavenza already, but you are just determined not to mention Maruki at all even though this is definitely his MO. This thing isn’t like Yaldabaoth, but it is like Maruki! So why are you willing to mention one god by name, but avoid the other entirely? You’re exhausting, Atlus. Honestly. X’’’D

GEE, MORGANA, I WONDER WHAT PERSONAL EXPERIENCES WOULD INFORM THAT OPINION?

Anyway, Lavenza explains that the Kingdoms are a structure that, the way she describes it, sounds like a halfway point between a Dungeon/Palace and something like Tartarus. A place constructed by a cognitive god, but from the cognition of a single person. Under normal circumstances, Salmael would have been able to infiltrate Toshiro’s mind and take over. But because his latent potential was already stirring, it couldn’t overpower him that easily, so it used his cognition to create and populate this distortion in an effort to break his will.

And Toshiro’s spark of rebellion was inspired by the broadcast hijack. <3

So Salmael built the Kingdoms, and created the Rulers as fragments of itself, dressed up in the image of Toshiro’s memories to mentally wear him down.

I… think this implies that Shadow Toshiro was another one of Salmael’s creations? Which reads as true to me. I don’t think Toshiro ever blamed Eri for what happened. I think he blamed himself. So his shadow wouldn’t want to kill Eri. But a god focused on stamping out any hint of rebellion would.

It also, according to Lavenza, took shadows from the Sea of Souls and turned them into its Legionnaires, which is why when we destroy them, they drop gears with the essences of the original demons/personas that we can then use for fusion. Which makes sense!

And, after realizing that it wasn’t managing to wear Toshiro down just by waging war in his mind, it pulled his real self into the metaverse to break him directly.

Now, Erina.

Lavenza says that she is the cognitive embodiment of Toshiro’s feelings of hope and resistance, taking on the form of the person who inspired him. And he subconsciously entrusted his unawakened powers of persona to her to help her fight back against Salmael, which is why she can do magic like the Thieves.

Lavenza says that in this state, she was essentially a cognitive being with an inner persona. She was protecting Toshiro’s subconscious and will of rebellion where he couldn’t.

All of that is… fine. It’s fine. It’s a little fast and loose, but it’s the sort of thing that’s okay if you gloss over some of the details. After all, we know a shadow that gained enough of an ego to develop a persona, and we know cognitions that grew so powerful that they overwhelmed a Palace in the ruler’s place, and we know cognitive gods that lived as humans, amnesiac or not. So a cognition trusted with the power of its creator’s persona is something I can grasp.

The fact that she, herself, is considered his persona and how they implement it afterwards is what bothers me.

You can still send both of them into battle. Erina operates completely independently from Toshiro, still has her own magic and uses her own skills, and just… disappears briefly when Toshiro needs her to be Ernesto. That’s really not how I would have done it.

One option would be to say that he’s taken his power back from her now that he’s strong enough to stand on his own. He can fight with Ernesto, and she can fight with just her guns and melee (or say that some of the power still lingers with her so she can still do magic, idk). OR, if they’re gonna insist that she is Ernesto and not just a cognition wielding Ernesto’s power, then you can’t have both out there at the same time. It makes so much less sense to have her running around as normal and just being a persona when convenient. If you want her still running around as a person during cutscenes, fine, I can accept that, but if she’s gonna be his persona then she needs to be his persona during battle.

I don’t know, it all just feels so much messier than it needs to be. It feels like it’s literally just that they wanted to keep Erina around as her own character after the reveal, and they did it in the most convoluted way possible.

But, anyway, Lavenza has crashed the train into the final area and I’m just now realizing how very close they’re skirting to another entry on the stolen things list. Not quite, though, thankfully, or I’d be getting even more unhinged. What’s the next step up in unhinged-ness from “lorekeeper”?

Loving Erina’s enthusiasm despite the clockwork hellscape, though. XDDDD

Salmael is summoning metal versions of bosses past to stop us (hm. metal versions. Hmmmm), and so far I’ve beaten Marie. The kids have come to the realization that Salmael is targeting Toshiro specifically because he’s the most likely to be the next prime minister, and therefore would have the most influence on the people. So like Yaldabaoth using Shido, really.

Toshiro blames himself for the real-world Marie being as bad as she was because he didn’t stand up to her, and we get a lovely reminder that Akira can be a horrible little goblin if you let him. :3

And Lavenza offers us a set of challenges to unlock everyone’s final skills, because she can’t fight us herself, as much as she wants to.

Which I can’t really complain about, because as much as I love my darling attendant here, she is a little cheater. Gimmick boss fight without explaining what the gimmick is, or that it even exists in the first place? Mean, Lavenza. There’s a reason I never beat her bonus boss fight in Royal. It’s the only one I never beat.

Anyway, final notes. I love Erina and Yusuke’s little drawings to “help” illustrate what’s being talked about. Absolutely delightful.

Overall, a pretty solid explanation of what’s been going on, but getting it all at once is still a little much, and as usual, there’s still things it didn’t answer. How did it pull Toshiro into the metaverse? How did it pull the Thieves into the metaverse? Toshiro had already been imprisoned by Cognitive Marie for a while when they got there, so what separate thing dragged in the Thieves (and Lavenza)? It would be weird for Salmael to bring them in and risk them freeing Toshiro. Just take care of them after you break him. You’re a god; why do you need to rush?

And I love the idea of Toshiro subconsciously fighting back against Salmael’s attempts to get in his head. Honestly, if it had been a cognitive space that Toshiro constructed, instead of one made by Salmael to break him, I’d say it lines up very well with my version of a cognitive Stronghold. Which, I’m not even gonna put that on the stolen stuff list, because I like being validated in my overall worldbuilding choices. XDDDD

Metal Yoshiki is probably next, but I think I’m gonna see what Lavenza’s challenges are, first. She better not be cheating again. :’’’D

[slashingdisneypasta]

(M.I.) lol yup…I couldn’t resist. The idea of Blackie watching “his” nose get broken and laughing about it was too good to pass up. (I mean, it’s okay, Richard Gere apparently knocked it back into place later.) Same with the surfing. I HAD to throw it in there. If Blackie can ignore the fourth wall, I figure I can at least lean on it a bit. Same with the surfing.

Which reminds me: does your headcanon about Wayne mean he’s tried to get someone posing nude for him 🤣

(Also, y/n and Blackie are so far in denial it’s sadlarious…y/n over here like “Ok, fine, he’s almost attractive if you like sparkly eyes and beards and impish flirting, I guess”

Meanwhile, Blackie: “I don’t know why I’m being accused of pulling anyone’s pigtails. I’m not…oh. No one said that? Well, good. Because I’m not.”

They’re NOT DATING, mom, cut it out!)

Plus I'm pretty sure he accidentally punched Burt Reynolds in Hustle?? So. I guess giving and recieving accidental bodily harm is just a hazard of the job??? XDD 😅

And oh yeah, I caught the surfing bit too XDD I figure that's totally something Blackie could wing and accidentally get perfect, though XD (unless that's something he's been doing for a while- which would also make sense. He's immortal, he's gotta have hobbies.)

UHHHHHHHHHHH yeah he probably has XD. Knowing his charms, I doubt he was super successful though XD 🤣 BUT ALSO BUT ALSO- Imagine you're actually dating Wayne and he's never mentioned he likes drawing or anything when one day you catch him out. You're confused why he didnt say anything, because these are so good!! He must love drawing. You wanna to know all about it- what he likes to draw, what made him start it, can he draw you? And its totally pure on your end, excited to learn something new (something so genuine. so soft and normal) about the sleazy old bastard you already like a lot. '*batting your eyelashes* Can you draw me something?' 'Yeah. 50 bucks a pop' 'Come onnn,' 'Oh, anatomy is free... But I gotta have a live model, though.' '😮‍💨'

(Omggggg, exactly, haha XDDD You're writing this slow burn soo good. They're basically together- they just can't admit it- Rahhh! XD

As always I cannot wait for the next update 💗💛💗💛💗💟💗💟💗💟💗💟💗💟💗💟💗💛💗💛💗💛💗💛💗💛💗)

(But also take your time, don't rush yourself, I'll wait as long as you need ^^)

[iamfruitie]

Mad and Anti interrupting Dark and Mare’s meeting with a client with a pout and wearing their hoodie/sweatshirt. They want comfort and cuddles and the older two continue the meeting while they comfort the other two.

Welp…I couldn’t resist. I’ve been struggling with writing this afternoon/evening, and this is what gets me to go XD ------------------

“Payment is to be done with cash, as stated on page three,” Dark stated, gesturing to the stack of paperwork in front of the client. He and Mare sat on one end of the large meeting table while the client was at the other. 

“You’re welcome to write out any specifics you would like done on pages five and six,” Mare added. “The more complicated, the more you will be expected to pay. Time and skill take money after all.” He softly chuckled. 

“Oh…okay.” The client was a young man. Younger than they were used to working with, swallowed and nodded, reading over the contract. Dark had a good feeling about what was going to be asked of them and kept himself much kinder than he tended to be with clients.

“Take your time with reading it, there is no rush.” He watched the client nod again, seeming to appreciate the softer approach. 

“Did you bring the-” Mare’s question stopped at the door to the room opening. Neither of them expected to see Mad and Anti enter the room, well, Anti entered the room, and Mad stayed at the door, peeking in and watching. What really stuck out was what they were wearing. Anti wore one of Dark’s hoodies while Mad had on one of Mare’s, the fit of the hoodies was a big giveaway. They also seemed to be wearing…only hoodies, or at least it appeared as such.

“Do you two need something?” Dark asked, somehow able to keep his composure. Mare, on the other hand, was definitely staring with a big grin. Anti didn’t say anything. He just made a pouting sound and crawled himself into Dark’s lap. When Mad saw that Anti wasn’t told to leave, he came in and did the same to Mare. 

“Uh…sh-should I leave?” The client asked, the pink on his cheeks showing that he was flustered about all of this. 

“We’ll wrap this up quickly.” Dark wrapped an arm around Anti and rubbed circles on the center of his back. Anti made a soft sound of approval and nuzzled himself against Dark’s chest. “Write down the full name, birth date, and any other personal information you can think of for your chosen target on page four.” 

“O-Okay.” The client looked down at the paper and awkwardly filled out the page. 

“After that, you can fill out the specifics part and leave behind your picture of the target,” Mare said as one hand held Mad’s waist and the other, hidden by the table, was on Mad’s thigh with his thumb rubbing against the soft skin. Mad had his face tucked away into the crook of his neck.

“You guys-uh-you can do whatever.” The client cleared his throat. He got the information down quickly, signing his name on the last page and setting the picture atop the pile. 

“Any questions?” Dark asked.

“Nope. All good. You can-You can take care of your partners now.” He awkwardly gave two thumbs up before softly scolding himself for being ‘weird’. “Bye.” The client waved that time and rushed out of the room. 

“What’s got you two like this?” Dark asked, hand slipping under the hoodie Anti was wearing so he could touch his bare back. 

“Tired,” Anti mumbled, leaning into Dark’s hand. 

“Lonely,” Mad added as almost a whine, pressing himself even closer to Mare. 

“I guess we have been busy.” Mare moved a hand to run it through Mad’s hair. 

“That meeting didn’t last as long as expected, so we can call it an early night,” Dark suggested, showing that he did feel bad about basically ignoring Mad and Anti all day since he was never the one to suggest finishing up work early. 

“Cuddles?” Anti asked. 

“Yes, we can cuddle,” Dark said with a light grunt as he stood, keeping Anti in his arms. 

“Movies?” Mad added.

“Of course, starlight.” Mare got up with Mad. 

“Disney?” Anti softly purred as he asked, happily being carried out of the room. 

“Hercules?” Mad hugged Mare’s neck and would be purring as well if he knew how to.

“Anything that you two want.” Dark held the door open with his foot for Mare and they walked together to their bedroom, both more than willing to spoil Anti and Mad for the rest of the night. 

[mapleschmaple]

My beautiful son, ATLA fic outline.

Maybe someday, he will encase himself in a cocoon and become a beautiful fic.

The premise? Basically, Zuko and Azula? Dead. Like suppppeeeerrr dead. They don't get better

-Zuko and Azula?? Are ghosts

-Descended from the Firelord, but due to a bloody succession battle, died

-Ozai is NOT the father

-Summons the ghosts to work for him? Binds their spirits

-Do NOT like

-Thtas why Azula’s fire is blue. Shes dead. THats why it doesn't hurt her

-Azula either poisoning or chest wound

-Zuko. Take a guess lolol face hurtie

-The Blue Spirit is Zuko but like. Splitting off a part of himself (before Ozai bound them) so it acts as a separate being, but like, hivemind sorta thing. Thats also why he can resist more

-Ozai eventually finds out about that and kills it? Maybe

-Aang when rescued from Pohai realises its a spirit. Also goes. Hmmm. ur familiar

-The cover story for Azula is Zuko is that they are children of a concubine

-Ursa was sent away when she couldn’t conceive. Hint hint. Ozai is infertile

-Ozai remarries to some noble who like, just runs parties.

-Azula and Zuko heirs

-Hunt Avatar

-Becuase Zuko is ‘unsightly’ and with burn marks on face considered weaker firebender he patrols the borders

-He is VERY weird .

-Cause his soul is split he is able to be sorta like a person cause not full Ozai control

-But like. Still uncanny valley

-Azula is just. Inhuman. What Ozai thinks is ‘perfect heir’

-Zuko patrols border, hears of Avatar INSTANT control mode

-They are both notorious for single minded focus (control….)

-Zuko catches up to them when they are leaving the South Pole

-Fires at them

-THey run

-Earth Kingdom random port

-”AG SCARY FACE GUY IS BACK”

-”Sokka! That’s rude we can’t call him that :(“

-Sorry Aang let me just have a look through my nice names list for people who ARE TRYING TO KILL US!”

-This happens a few times

-”How does this guy keep finding us?”

-This guy is a spirit and avatar is like, spirit hotspot. Spirit GPS auto defaults to him

-Aangs spiritual energy

-Kyoshi Island

-Sokka: Wow you guys are so good you could beat like everything ever

-Suki: HA I dont even we could defeat the Blue Spirit

-Kyoshi island gets too laser focused on Aang. Kung Fu-ed by Suki

-Omashu King Bumi goes…Zuko? Now thats a weird guy

-Literally like. Out of no where

-Apparently the children of the firelord run cold to the touch…But thats just a rumour tehe xD

-Meet Jet

-Hear of Blue Spirit

-Sokka goes…OKAY WHO IS THIS GUY??

-Later Sokka says that this super awesome sword guy should really help them

-Katara goes Nah we are not chasing legends

-WHy not we already have one? You just want to stay with Jet dontcha??

-Aang fades into memory

-Pohai stronghold goes same except he ~somehow~ deflects the arrow

-Hes a spirit . it goes through him

-Scene where Aang goes bro theres something funky about that guy

-What guy?

-The Blue Spirit.

-HES REAL??

Jeong Jeong and stuff

-Is there any other deserters?

-No…not really. Theres other rebels. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Blue Spirit

-The man is an invaluable source of information.

-He speaks??? (aang)

-Oh Agni no. I doubt anyone has ever heard a word from him

-He throws information packets at us

-Mainly about troop movements but it still counts

-We dont know how he finds us though

-^^Spirit powers?? Tracking their inner flame?

-In the siege of the North Zuko tries to stop Zhao.

-”Every life has an inner flame. Even spirits”

-The fish lives because Zuko fuels their inner flame

-Misunderstanding. RIP he in the snow (Fish lives)

-Also Zuko Katara one sided fight scene (he hold the inner flame sorta near the oasis)

-Aang and Katara there cause Aang ran off like I FEEL SPIRIT POWERS

-She followed cause duh

-Yue and Sokka left alone in oasis

-Zhao whoops both of them

-’Kills’ fish

-Iroh whips him out of there

-Real gentle with fish

-Seals wound with fire (cauterised) and lowers back into water

-Pray

-Glow from water

-Fish lives Yue goes psycho spirit mode (also glowing)

-Aang arrives because brooo what is the freaky energy

-its yue

-The water mimics the knives

-Going through the soldiers who run or fights chests and then dragging them into the sea

-3 go for Zhao and pull him in all different directions

-After

-Yue. What was that

-I..I don’t know. But..I think the spirits are angry, very angry about something. I was just a release.

-Aang thoughts

-I…we need to…

-Katara goes EARTHBENDING. WE SHOULD DO THAT WHAT DO YOU THINK AANG

-That…Yeah! Yeah, let’s go do that

-have supply please

-Alright. Lets hope that we find an Earthbending teacher easier.

END BOOK 1.

[whenimgoodandready]

The power of the Butterfly Miraculous was originally supposed to create superheroes and not supervillains as we found out from Nooroo (“Origins Part 1:Ladybug and Cat Noir”), but it still goes into effect no matter what the intentions are. Like the metamorphosis of the butterfly, Gabe has gone through a few transformations to suit his look from Hawk Moth to Scarlet Moth (Heroes’ Day Part 1:Catalyst) to Shadow Moth (Season 4) to now Monarch! He has gotten more powerful as well from obtaining almost all the miraculouses and it just gets worse from there onward! How much worse? You’ll see:

The Kwamis’ Choice

*Part 1:Transmission-Which ship is best for Marinette? Adrienette? ❌ Lukanette? ❌ How ‘bout Marichat!? ❌ Oh yeah, right, (hisses through grind teeth in embarrassment)😬from last eps ending, that didn’t work out either. Sh*t! Adrien doesn’t have much luck either. He’s strictly platonic with Adrigami and Ladynoir, but he’s trying for Adrienette and it’s not happenin’! The Love Squares in reverse and nobody’s together, they don’t have secondary love interests to move on to and they’re miserable! What are they to do!? The Kwami’s! They’ll know what to do! How do you solve your holders love life problem from their superhero duties? Quit being their Kwami and find new holders! WITH PERMISSION OF COURSE! (this is why Nooroo was stuck with Gabe for so long). Who’s the new Ladybug Miraculous holder? Alya! (trumpets sound) When she was Scarabella! (“Hack-San”) Who’s the new Black Cat holder? Nin-(record scratch) Wait! WTF!? Zoe!? (trumpets sound confused)…….okay. Everyone! Meet-! (trumpets about to sound) Idk (trumpets halt). Well, whatever she named herself, They got this. Especially since they took care of that akumatized victim, a boxer with a Hulk speech impediment, that clashed with Alyas older sister Nora, Boubi I mean Bibou, a giant gold boxer bear, w/ the power of the Tiger, Horse, Turtle! Ox! Mous-HEY! HEY! Whoa! Whoa! Easy there Monarch! You’re passing out miraculouses not candy! Oh whatever! The new dynamic duo handled it and Adrienette just might be happenin’.

————————————

*Part 2:Deflagration-Bad news, the new dynamic duo didn’t get the memo on the no alliance rings cuz that’s how Monarch found out who they were from what Marinette learned (“Jubilation”) :P. Sh*t! This lead Gabe to do a “happy dance” XD. WFT!? Which made him combine a few miraculous powers to snatch it from Scarabella and Kitty Noir! (so that’s her name) and become Monarchbug! Don! Don! Don! Sooooooo, does that mean the shows over? But we’re a quarter of a way in the season! Monarch couldn’t be that powerful! Course he’s not that powerful! Even w/out our new dynamic duo there’s still heroes out there. Ones that don’t need powers or costumes to be super. Who were those? Didn’t Marinette’s friends create some sort of group that fights against the akumatizations of Monarch? Was that just a one off joke or were they being serious?…….Oh wait! The Resistance! (“Illusion”) That’s the one! Yeah, they got this. For the akuma victim, it was just Chloe becoming Sole Destroyer. Just a cheap knock-off of Zoe’s Sole Crusher which Monarch just used as an excuse to trap Alya and Zoe. Sole Destroyers power in this case was turning people into shoes that sang Chloe’s praises Blah! Blah! Blah! That was Season 5 of Chloe’s akumatization and it’s the weakest of her forms used only a set-up for a bigger villain :P. The real bad guy was Monarchbug and that was more important. Despite the miraculouses however, the Kwami’s had their free will to fight against him and even stop him from being too powerful. Yea Kwami’s! They knew better then to comply to him and saw some loopholes in his scheme. Smart.

I have to admit, I thought the whole idea of Adrienette giving up being heroes was pretty selfish cuz they gave up just so they can “frick frack”. There’s a super terrorist out with almost all the miraculouses that’s gone completely insane and can damage the town and it’s civilians and alls our main characters can think about was their “silly little love lives”. This ain’t no picnic! It’s responsibilities! Putting other people’s needs before your own so as to save them from chaos and destruction! Then again, a friend of mine pointed out that it wasn’t just because of shipping, but if both are too depressed (cuz both have extreme low self esteem), then they won’t be motivated to stop Monarch and likely get akumatized which will all end in disaster, so it wasn’t for personal petty problems, it was for the greater good so they won’t struggle so much and finally be happy. We found out something new about Monarch here! He can see the negative feelings projected to him from his victims and he can pass out more than one miraculous power not just to the alliance ring, but if the victim in question wears a lot of rings! Damn! Told ya the guys getting worse! You’re probably wondering, “Why Zoe as the Black Cat Miraculous holder and not Nino!?”, “Why does she look like that in superhero form!?”. Well, for the former, Plagg didn’t choose Nino cuz since Tikki chose Alya as the new Ladybug Miraculous holder and a couple should never ever be paired together cuz well, GO BACK AND WATCH “CAT BLANC”/“EPHEMERAL”/“SHADOW MOTH’S FINAL ATTACK PART 2:STRIKE BACK”! GOD DAMN IT! COUPLES CAN’T BE SUPERHEROES! FOR CHRISTS SAKE! ADRIEN ADMITTED HIS FEELINGS FOR MARINETTE AND VICE VERSA, BUT SHE ALSO SAID SHE “DOESN’T LOVE HIM” ANYMORE AND THEY’RE STILL NOT TOGETHER!🤬. More importantly, it’s cuz she’s also more rational compared to her super shippers aboard the S.S. Adrienette. As for the latter, that’s you’re opinion if you think it looks good on her or not. The miraculous let’s you choose how you wish to look as a superhero and if Zoe likes having green highlights/lipstick, then that’s her thing. For me, I think it’s okay. This show is seriously married to the reset button isn’t it? With the near victory Monarchbug almost had, the Kwami’s and heroes realized that they need to keep things traditional and Adrienette is back to being docked. Even w/out the pressures of superherohood, Marinette still couldn’t make the ship sail (to the point of being physically unable to itself) and now is again sad and alone :(. We could’ve had a whole half a season-No! Wait! A whole new format of “Miraculous Ladybug” with Scarabella and Kitty Noir, but nooooooo! As tvtropes would say, “Status Quo Is God”! The writers are allergic to change. Course they’d write a scenario on why this couldn’t be the new show! It’s an excuse to go back to basics! :P. However, would it have been better? If they did go with the change, then the show would be renamed “Miraculous Scarabella” (shrugs). Also, I think we’d miss our original dynamic duo too much😅. Eps are coming out like tennis balls from a shooting machine, so I have a lot to catch up on. 🚨SPOILER ALERT!🚨I’ve been spoiled!😫. Oh well, see you guys when the English Dubs come out!

[living-in-the-state-of-dreaming]

Tinkering with my heart

So this came out of nowhere I know; but I recently finished Final Fantasy X-2 Hd Remaster again and I thought why not. ^~^ Please excuse the probably cheesy title of this. xD I couldn’t resist okay? I’m sorry. Not really.

It should’ve been just another day like any other. Everyday you would travel from the Mihen Highroad; to Djose Temple; each trek to and fro leaving your legs sore and body tired when you finally arrived back to your home in Luca; a small apartment in the ocean of houses far bigger and likely more lavish then your own; for the sole reason on procuring an interview with the Leader of the faction that now took up residency within the once hallowed temple; a stepping stone for Summoners on their long pilgrimages, and securing yourself a spot as a digger. No you weren’t exactly looking forward to spending hours digging under the hot sun; and you were well aware of the many dangers that lay before you; let alone ones that were well past simple heatstroke; but your resolve to bring yourself out of the monotony that had become your life after the Calm; the first step being moving yourself out of the apartment that now seemed like a tiny box and up into bigger things; made your determination burn. 

Although you would be lying if you said you wouldn’t kick a Tindalos if it meant getting the chance to sit down as you stood in line for what was likely the uptenth time that week; your legs once more throbbing as you stood in line; the unpleasant smell of sweat from the man in front of you only causing you to wish that the line would move faster all the more. Giving a small sigh, you close your eyes, muttering under your breath. 

“ Please let this be the day that I get one…” 

More minutes passed, then five, then ten, then twenty; and it was only when the twenty minute mark went by that the same ding that you had heard many times sounded; moments before the previous applicant exited the building and the next person in line went in; however this did not lessen your stress as just by looking around the man in front of you; you could still see six people in line ahead of you. And as it hit the hour and thirty minute mark and three people were left in front of you; your patience was beginning to wear thin. Now you were well aware that there were many people here who were in the same shoes as you; but still thirty minutes for an interview?? For digging?? Yes you knew it was serious business for safety concerns but that was pushing it surely. Still, taking a small breath as you closed your eyes for a brief moment; you gave a small sigh; willing yourself to stay calm and collected; after all you did not want to be like the people you had seen leaving the building; some even storming out when they didn’t pass the regulations; one woman even throwing a fuss because she was furious that she had to wait twenty minutes. After all, this was all a means to go towards your goals; and you had already waited this long; over an hour was nothing compared to that. 

Opening your eyes again, with this in mind you were content in waiting; until noticing something from the corner of your eye; looking over your shoulder, your eyes widened at the sight across from you; a machina that was clearly in need of repair. Looking back to the person in front of you you waited five minutes then ten to see if the bell would ring; but nothing, the line remained still. Looking around; gaze lingering on the Al-bhed; one seemed to be minding the front door of the temple; but other then that there weren’t many of them outside; though it was most likely due to managing the amount of applicants they were getting; but still; you couldn’t help but hesitate as you again looked at the Machina; the desire refusing to subside; but being conflicted with the want to not step on anyone's toes. However the desire soon won over hesitation as you soon found yourself leaving the line and walking over to the little machina; while keeping your attention on the sound of the bell when it would ring. 

I should be fine though; after all though.This won’t take too long; I’ll just fix it quickly and then go back in line. I just hope no one in the Machine Faction see’s me…I don’t want them to think that I’m messing with anything. 

Taking your toolbox out of your bag; you scanned the contents of your toolbox making sure that everything you would need was there before giving a small nod of your head with a satisfied hum of content as a smile came to your expression. Looking to the Machina again, your smile still on your expression; you reached out a hand to turn off its power. 

“ Okay little guy, time to go to sleep while I fix you up. I promise I won’t be long and when I turn you back on; you’ll be good as new. “

Flicking the power button on the back of it’s head; once you were sure it’s power supply was off; you set to work; hands grabbing each tool you needed as if on instinct as your brain ran on autopilot; replacing a loose screw here; fixing a frayed wire and power supply there; every move your hands made was articulate as well as professional as you knew you had to be; after all as small as it was; it was still a Machina and had far more complicated wiring and build then a simple toaster. Before long your hands stopped as you looked over the interior of the Machina; making sure that there wasn’t anything you may have missed and upon not finding anything else; you smiled again. Hope filled your eyes and your heart as you put the tools back in your toolbox; closed the compartment at the back of its head and flipped on the switch. With bated breath and hopeful eyes you waited; watching the little Machina with intent as it slowly began to come back to life; before giving a small sigh and smile of relief at seeing no sparks begin to escape it. Success! The Machina was running good as new again; just like you hoped it would. Giving a small gentle pat to the top of the Machina’s head; you watched it for a moment; proud and satisfied with your work and a job well done. 

“ See? I told you, good as new. “

Packing the toolbox away and back into your bag; you stood up and turned around; only for your heart to stop dead in your chest as you came face to face with the very man that you had come in the hopes of getting the interview with. Gippal. The infamous leader of the Machine Faction. His visible brown eye; one that wasn’t covered with that leather eye patch of his fixed on you; regarding you with intrigue; before his lips lifted into a smirk; no doubt completely aware that he had taken you by surprise. Your heart raced as you could only look back; like a deer caught in headlights. One gloved hand settled on his left hip; confidence exuding from him as easily as a bold chocobo; while his gaze remained on you as he leaned closer; putting his face mere inches from your own; before he finally spoke; his voice a purr above no more than a whisper as his breath- unexpectedly sweet and minty- fanned across your face. 

“ And what exactly do you think you’re doing? “

[ailec-12]

Okay… I know someone who should study but is freaking procrastinating and lacking material to successfully procrastinate…

sooo here my question: how much does one have to bribe you with to get material to successfully procrastinate? xD

Feel free to ignore the question, I just couldn’t resist xD

It'll be enough to get me either a decent job or a house, I'm not picky. xD

Nah, what I really need now to keep writing is energy. And messages like this? They give me a boost, so thank you. As soon as I have some news, I'll let you all know.

[fasterthanmydemons]

[ Speedster of the Galaxy ]

When Pietro sat down with them, the Guardians started to act the way they always did. Gamora sat next to Quill and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. The Guardians rarely let other members of their own team eat alone; bonds in space were few and far between, so sticking together was their way of staying strong. Besides, it was always nice to have a sense of connection and community. As Pietro explained how he liked to use his speed to get people out of harm’s way, Drax nodded approvingly. Groot, on the other hand, just frowned while nibbling on a toast.

“If I had super speed,” Groot said, “I would just use it to steal candy!”

“I don’t know who taught you that stealin’ is okay, kid,” Rocket added, pouring star-shaped cereal into a bowl before adding alcohol. “You guys want some? I stole like thirty-five boxes from Earth.”

“Dude, Rocket, you’re supposed to pour milk,” Quill said. “Not booze!”

A conversation about how they had been unable to fuel the Benatar on Earth followed. Rocket passed the cereal box to Mantis, who poured some for herself, before smiling and giving the box to Pietro. Quill said he was hoping they could fuel the ship on that planet while Gamora mentioned they should come up with an emergency plan to deal with Flerkens, which made Groot laugh uncontrollably when he saw Quill shudder at the reminder. There were no more incidents as they had breakfast, and afterwards they were left with an amount of leisure time that would probably be limited; Pietro was free to explore the ship, the planet, and look for resources for his turtle.

(Me ignoring this verse’s cosmic elephant in the room which is the language - in the GotG movies they do use a translator implant, however in IW and EG the characters from Earth don’t use those and they can still understand alien characters. Pietro, like Wanda, hates medical procedures so I have no idea how they’re gonna give him one.)

__________

{ Oh really? Hmm, I didn’t know that. Yeeeeah, that might be a problem for Pietro. He’s not as triggered by medical things as Wanda is in a panicking, trauma response sense, but he does really hate medical things and he’s not easily convinced to even go for regular checkups, let alone have implants put in. I mean, we could just fudge and say he did have it done? But then it wouldn’t be that surprising that he can understand Groot. But it’s much too mary sue to be like oh he just understands everyone heh. Him understanding Groot was some nice color, but I don’t wanna say he just always understands everyone. So hmm... I guess... we’re just... yeah, ignoring stuff? For now? *jazz hands* XD }

Although Pietro didn’t necessarily feel totally a part of this team yet, he did like sitting with them and listening to their banter. They all seemed so comfortable with each other, like a family. Well, they were family, he could clearly see. Family was not only blood. Sometimes it wasn’t even blood, if blood did you wrong somehow. But family was a big thing in Pietro’s culture, and found family was as valid and important as blood. By observing the Guardians and how they interacted with each other, it was clear that they were definitely a family, held together by trust, respect, and yes, a healthy amount of humor and sarcasm. Those were all the best elements of a family, in Pietro’s eyes.

He couldn’t resist getting involved in the conversation, grinning at Groot’s comment. “I have used it to steal candy,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Is very effective.” Rocket’s comment about stealing not being okay earned a little shrug from Pietro. “Sometimes is okay. Well... not okay, but necessary. When my sister and I were on the streets starving after our parents died, what was I supposed to do, let her cry and be hungry? Hell no, I got my ass out there and stole food for us. Sometimes life forces your hand, yeah?” He turned to Groot again. “The key... is knowing when is necessary to do, and when you are just being a little shit and should probably stop.”

But when Rocket then took out stolen alcohol and proceeded to pour it into his cereal, Pietro busted out laughing, his voice slightly high pitched with humor when he finally spoke. “What the hell, man?! You’re such a hypocrite!” he said, but not in a nasty or even accusing way. He thought it was hilarious that Rocket would, in one breath, both condemn stealing to Groot, and in the next, admit to stealing a bunch of alcohol from Earth. “It was necessary stealing, right?” Pietro then said in the same playful tone. “See? There is time and place for everything,” he said shrugging and going back to his food. When Quill commented that milk, not booze, should go in cereal, Pietro eyed Rocket’s bowl. “I mean... is it any good?” he asked, really wanting to know. “Maybe he is on to something...”

Pietro had already cleared his plate and was still hungry, but he didn’t want to be greedy. So he just sat with his empty plate. He was quiet for the rest of breakfast, just listening to the conversation. Afterward, he said he was going out to look for food and other supplies for Mr. Dibbles, which was most certainly a priority of his. The turtle depended on him, after all.

[nothingweirdhere]

oh god i’m watching hermitcraft again,,,,

[caemlynn]

“BUT

MOOOOOOOOMMM...”