#I’d buy them even if it wasn’t for this project I’d just like. plan the purchase for a better time when Im not already making a big purchase

[sourkitsch]

Ok I need to meet w my thesis advisor asap bc I genuinely don’t know the upper limit of what my school will allow me to show. And it would be really stupid to drop over $100 rn on a set of photos of a girl from the 1940s during surgery if I can’t actually use them for my assemblage.

[letternotekisses]

ok but saucy thoughts aside im talkin bout talon assistant reader genuinely being cute and silly with her agents:

Moira more often than not lets you eat your lunch in her lab provided that none of it comes in contact with her projects. She was hyper focused - her perfectly manicured nails holding still a tawny brown ball of fur, adorned with a baby pink button nose that sniffled the air hesitantly. You’d practically squealed when she raised a needle to the poor thing, and she quirked a brow when you hurried over to clutch the animal to your chest.

Moira appeared unimpressed with you. Her angular chin upturned as she peered down at you, baby talking the rabbit she had planned to test on. You looked up at her with eyes big and watery enough to rival the little creatures, and she sighed dramatically. The geneticist had a feeling that wrangling the critter out of your arms wouldn’t be so easy now that you’d seen what plans she had for it.

So that is how Lucky came to be. Despite Moira’s cold disposition, she enjoyed your company, and would like you to continue body doubling with her whilst she worked. The only way not to send you fleeing from her lab in tears, clutching the rabbit to your chest, was to keep it around. It has its own little space laden with toys and plush surfaces - a rather spoiled little animal.

Moira allowed the rabbit to stay, under the one condition that she name it. She’ll never tell you why, but she named the little guy Lucky because not only was he ‘lucky’ to avoid her experiments that day - he also gives you more excuses to come into her lab - and she feels ever so lucky for it.

Sombra finds unique methods to get your attention. She lurks around the base almost as well as Gabe does, but she’s not necessarily doing it to be broody. She can get greedy with your attention, so she finds ways to lure you off base so that she can have you all to herself for a little bit.

Sombra often hacks into Akande’s email to send you on faux errand runs, just for little things like coffee where she can swoop in for some quality time. And don’t worry, she pays for the dates and ensures you’re back on base by the time your break is finished.

Sombra also leaves little gifts where she thinks you might find them. Although, they’re never really that little. You’re always taken aback by new, expensive top-range electronics laden in purple ribbon on your desk. You know who leaves them, because they’re backed up with the best firewalls around and the display has a tiny purple skull on it.

Sometimes she just straight deposits thousands into your account. As a treat. Sombra only rolls her eyes when you try to decline the amount, flustered and telling her that it’s ’way too much’ but she honestly couldn’t care less. She’s perfectly able to spoil you and that’s exactly what she’ll do.

Reaper likes to play off that he doesn’t enjoy your company (he’s coping) but he’s also always skulking wherever you’ve been. You’re a bit of a yapper, especially when it’s early mornings in the Talon communal area, so he likes to sit and listen to you. If you stagger whilst talking because you think he isn’t listening, he’ll give you a stare so hard that you swear you can feel it through his mask. So you keep talking and his shoulders sag with contentment once more. (He now knows every single type of coffee you like, and you should expect a mysterious package of literally all of them in the kitchen next week.)

He’s a grump, and sulked for an entire week when you once changed your perfume. Reaper even went to lengths to shadow-step into your room to throw the new one out and replace it with a fresh bottle of your old one. It wasn’t cheap, but as long as you keep using it, he’s happy to buy them for you.

He’s also happy to scare off any of the overconfident Talon grunts who think you’re easy pickings. In fact, I’d say he takes great pleasure in showing those idiots who the pretty secretary belongs to. (He’s been doing this behind your back because he’s too edgy and emo to approach you directly and would rather trail you in the corridors like some sort of creep, but he means well.)

Reaper gets a little jealous over your attention from time to time, but with help from his unorthodox teammates (and you) he learns to share.

Amelie is slower to approach, but she’s all the more meaningful when she does. She may not be able to feel, but she more than just tolerates your company. She finds herself inviting you over for bottles of wine more often, showing you her manor and her dear guard hounds who’ve come to be much too gentle under your affections. Yet, she can’t find it in herself to blame you.

You show her simplicity in a blank and cold world - and soon enough her manor grows less full of cobwebs and vines, instead beaming with sunlight and the tiny succulents you’d gifted her with. You won’t replace Gerard, but Amelie still lets you dust off the weathered picture frames as if you’d been married together in this old house for years.

You help manage her hair, winding long and silky strands between your fingers, brushing against the elegant slope of her back. She welcomes your touch, despite the warm and cold contrast of your skin on hers.

Amelie craves the casual and domestic intimacy you provide her. She introduces you to self defence and gun wielding so you can take care of yourself without her, and you introduce her to reality tv and an absurd collection of coffee mugs. She would not take it any other way.

Sigma’s musings start small when he hears you humming a certain tune one day. It’s catchy, likely a pop song you’d heard on the radio whilst on your way to work, or maybe it was a song you’d been blasting in your bedroom the night before? He’d found himself picking up on it, unable to shake it until he’s humming it himself.

Eventually when you sit down with him for tea, he questions you about it, yet when you tell him the name of the song and he listens to it, he doesn’t necessarily feel the same pull.

The next week, when you’re passing by his lab in a hurry, heels clacking against the glossy wooden floor and papers flying in a trail behind you, he catches you humming another song. Another tune. He smiles softly to himself, picking up the documents you’d left behind.

Sigma realises then that the song wasn’t necessarily catchy enough to stick with him. He’d only picked them up because they reminded him of you.

Mauga is always excited to have you around. Sometimes he can be a bit much, but with two hearts he’s bound to have twice your energy. So that’s why he absolutely insists that you sit on his back whilst he does pushups. No matter what you weigh he’s not gonna break a sweat, so you might as-well relax on his back while he works out, instead of wasting precious quality time you could have together.

He’d suggested that you sit on other things too, but you’d smacked his bicep hard enough that the muscle rippled and he got the message to behave. You were still sore from the last time he said that.

Mauga also is a big cuddler, meaning, if you’re doing something he doesn’t deem as important, you’re being quite literally swept off your feet and dumped onto a soft surface like a wet kitten. Where he then hauls you onto his chest and squishes your face into his bicep, unfortunately for you, two hearts means he runs WARM. And you’re out like a light in less than 10. Smug bastard.

Big dude loves to show you off, too. Takes you back to some of his old haunts (pays for all of your drinks) and puts a song he knows you like on the jukebox. Sure, the night ends in a bar fight, a back-alley fuck and the worst take out you’ve had in your life, but would you have it any other way? Absolutely-fuckin-not.

And finally, the big boss of them all, Akande. Who’s satisfied with the knowledge that each of his subordinates treat you well and good, but knows he holds the ultimate claim. He holds the golden chain of your leash.

He treats you softly, like a well pampered pet all trussed up in the finest materials around. But it’s not always money with him. Sure, Akande has it, and he’s gonna flaunt it, maybe stuff a few bills in your panties when you least expect it but he also knows you’re not just a pretty face. Both he and his top agents have become adjusted to you in their lives, morale is high, people have improved.

You’re here to stay, and it’s only locked into place when he awakes one morning, your legs are tangled underneath satin sheets, and you’re drooling on his bare chest. He laughs - a deep rumble that shakes his chest and has you groaning at him to stop moving in a sweet, sleep addled mumble. You even give him a little kick under the covers.

Akande makes sure you’ll never want nor need again, and he’s sure that his team feel the same way about this odd, sweet assistant that stumbled into their lives.

[isalisewrites]

TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER THIRTY

SUMMARY:

“Harry Potter.” The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.

“The Boy Who Lived.”

A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.

Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.

“Come to die.”

Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.

---

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

---

THIRTY EXCERPT:

“And you, Hatchling,” said Nagini, her eyes on Harry now. There was an air of contentment surrounding the two of them, as Tom stroked her scales. Harry’s heart swelled with warmth at the fond gaze Tom held for his familiar. “Have you agreed to learn how to better speak my language, Hatchling?”

“I’ve agreed to lessons, yeah,” said Harry. “It’d be nice to learn how to control it.”

“We’ll practice parseltongue tomorrow while everyone has gone to Hogsmeade.”

Harry sank in disappointment. “What?” he said, looking directly at Tom and not noticing his switch to English. “But I’ve been looking forward to the Hogsmeade trip. Aren’t you going? Don’t you have a plan for it?”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Plan?”

“Yeah, do you want to get some sweets or check out the bookstore?”

“I’m not going.”

“What?”

“I don’t need anything,” said Tom, shaking his head. “Why would I go?”

Harry was at a loss now. He wasn’t sure why he felt so disappointed about the fact of missing a Hogsmeade trip. It wasn’t like he really needed to go either. But… I’d like to go with Tom. “I dunno,” he said, scrambling for a reason. “Uh, for a change of scenery?”

Tom folded his arms. “Harry, have you seen the grounds?” he asked with a sardonic lilt. “There’s plenty of scenery to take in. If you’re in dire need of the outdoors, we can always take the lessons to the grounds.”

“Not quite what I meant and you know it.”

“You know it’s rude to exclude the other party in the room from your conversation. Are you two fighting again?”

Huh? Wait, I wasn’t speaking in parseltongue?

Tom rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous. You are not convincing me.”

“Yes, yes, forget I exist again, why don’t you?”

“Nagini, he’s being difficult.”

“Me?” protested Harry, shifting back to parseltongue when his gaze rested on Nagini. “I just would like to go to Hogsmeade.” With you. “And the others are going, too. Come with us. It’ll be fun.”

“A Hogsmeade trip is a waste of time if you’re not buying anything in particular,” said Tom, shaking his head. “I’m not interested.”

Nagini’s eyes were sharp as she eyed them both. She uncurled from Tom’s lap, slithering away silently, until she disappeared from the curtains. Neither Harry nor Tom noted her absence.

“But aren’t there other interesting places to visit? We could get a butterbeer.”

“It’s frivolous spending.”

Oh.

Harry blinked. Oh. That was right. While Harry knew what it’d been like to live without money of his own as a child, that had changed when he’d gotten his Hogwarts letter and discovered the wealth his parents had left him. He hadn’t exactly been ‘frivolous’ with his money, but he hadn’t paid attention to it either, not like Ron had often worried about money.

Even now, with his funds somewhat limited, he hadn’t really thought about it too much or what he’d have to do in the future to earn a living. But Tom, on the other hand, was on an assistance fund here at Hogwarts. The only reason he could attend the school at all was because of that fund. Though Tom had always appeared immaculate in his appearance, Harry couldn’t help but wonder now if his belongings were secondhand.

“Right,” whispered Harry. “I forgot.”

Tom frowned. “Forgot what.”

“Well… you haven’t got any family, so I forgot that also probably means you haven’t got money either.”

A mixture of embarrassment and anger flushed through Tom’s cheeks. His chest puffed up; the light in his eyes grew flinty.

[strxnged]

1k. (suggestive) misunderstandings, platonic. gn!reader.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Of all the questions you expected Kaveh the Architect to ask you on what you had supposed to be a first date, this was not among them. Indeed, being the juxtaposing type of question you’d expect any sane suitor to ask, it was flabbergasting, and you could hardly think of a reply to combat this. Your jaw dropped and you peered into his ruby eyes, searching the jewels for a saving clue.

“You can be honest,” he continued bewilderingly. “That’s why I wanted to properly meet you for coffee. So that we could talk like adults.”

No, of all the questions you anticipated coming from someone who had asked you to meet for coffee “as soon as possible,” bringing “just yourself,” this was not among them. But maybe it should have been. The urgent nature of it all may have been a clear enough indicator, had you paid attention. A bit awkwardly you realized how far off your assumptions about this all had been. To think that you’d thought he was trying to get into your pants. Taking you on a date first like an adult. Not asking you to coffee just to talk like one.

Finding no answers in his eyes, you settled your gaze on your joe and pondered. Then at last, with much less certainty than you had intended, you responded, “I… don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

You met his eyes. “I don’t hate you, moron.”

Kaveh visibly bristled. This was how you had expected him to look after you’d turned down his supposed sexual interest as planned. “I don’t buy it. After the way that you talk to me, how you’ve turned down my project ideas, how you talk about me to other people…”

There was much for you to unpack here, but the last point caught your own sense of urgency. Your mug came down onto the table harder than you meant. “I don’t talk about you to other people. What do you mean, how I talk about you to other people?”

“You know.”

“I don’t. Where is this coming from? Kaveh, what the hell?”

He swallowed and spoke with seemingly great effort. “Alhaitham said… that you said… you can’t bear to be around me.”

“Kaveh.”

“Yes?”

“Alhaitham isn’t people. Alhaitham is person. A person who has been known to enjoy messing with you.”

He hesitated, and then declared, “A lot of the stuff he says is true. Even if it’s utterly uncalled for.” Kaveh looked anywhere but at you. “Sorry. I just…”

You looked him up and down. Here, you’d thought he was all of the things he wasn’t. And here he thought you were all of the things that you were not. You let a short laugh slip, and then quickly covered your smile with your knuckle.

He spoke feebly and towards the cafe aisle instead of you. “I’m taking this seriously. I don’t want you to hate me. Can’t we talk about it?”

Oh, it was sweet, and ironic, and delightful, and hilarious.

“Yes, Kaveh. Let’s talk about it.”

He glanced at you and quickly away again, nodding. His avoidance of eye contact made you feel a bit bad, but for only a second. You wanted to get the truth out before you made any attempt at comforting the poor soul.

“I don’t hate you,” you continued. “I don’t even dislike you. I like your company and I think you’re marvelous and creative. I think—and this is what I told Alhaitham—I think that if I spent too much time with you, I’d become more engaged myself, and I’m just not ready for that change in my life. Or I wasn’t. I was too comfortable with the status quo.” You paused to sip your bitter coffee, trying to figure out the words for the rest of it.

“But my projects,” he said, “my project ideas, the ones you refused to help with.”

“You wouldn’t want to do those with little old me,” you replied, simply and honestly.  

“I really would.”

“No, Kaveh. You don’t understand. I’m not brilliant like you. I’m a materialist, a realist, a square-cut function-obsessed gadgeter. I don’t do pretty designs. I can’t contribute to—” You gestured as if his mind was splayed out as a galaxy of ideas before you. “—All that.”

He tilted his head, looking again keen and reactionary. 

“And I’m sorry,” you finally said, “for how… for how blunt I can be. And I know I can be mean. I swear it’s just the way I talk, it’s not—”

He cut you off. “So I’m not the one you hate?”

“What do you…” It was your turn to cock your head. 

“I mean…” He raised an eyebrow, not mockingly. “You’re just unhappy, aren’t you?”

You set your mug down and leaned your elbows onto the table. He looked intently back at you now. Like a friend. Like someone who cared about being hated by you, and someone who cared about you hating yourself.

You cleared your throat, grasping at the straws of a changed subject. “I thought this was gonna be a date, nitwit. Not a therapy session.”

“A date?” He looked horrified.

You laughed at his expression, feeling all sorts of relieved. “Good to know neither of us were looking for that.”

“Tell me: Why would I ask you on a date if I thought you hated me?”

“Oh, Kaveh.”

“That doesn’t make an inch of sense.”

“Speaking of inches. Are you sure you want those columns in that desert library design to be that thick? Why not just have a few more columns among the shelves?”

And as quickly as that, the fear and sensitivity in his face faded and was replaced by glowing defense of his idea. 

The supposed date turned into a shrewd planning convention and you watched the remaining tension leak from his fingertips as he gestured at his invisible designs in the air. You thought, yes, this is why I can’t bear to be around him. He’s so bright and alive. It burns my eyes.

But you were alive too, thanks to the warm late-night caffeine. And thanks also, perhaps, to the feeling that the conversation you had avoided earlier might come around again, and that you didn’t mind that. You didn’t mind the idea of more conversations with Kaveh.

author's note. i don't know, guys, i think i'm obsessed with being this guy's friend. and... yeah, this is sort of a vomit of words about how easily social signals are misinterpreted, especially when you're ANTISOCIAL like me. i'm fine though. do not worry.

consider reblogging or leaving a reply if you enjoyed.

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

[raya-rhaenyra-ahsoka]

My thoughts on Ep.5 - A God Buys Us Cheeseburgers, A rant (Spoilers Ahead!)

First of all, the chaos with what happened in the Arch was expected, but Annabeth seeing the Fates was not expected.

Annabeth insisting that Percy is alive, and went to find him near the water.

Percy casually greeting them hi. Like he wasn’t stung by the Chimera and fell off the St. Louis Arch. This will never be not funny.

Annabeth rushing to hug Percy and didn’t even care that he was soaked.

Me, internally: PERCABETH! PERCABETH! PERCABETH! 😍🎉

Percy just now realizing that a god could not have stolen the master bolt and might have been helped by someone. Grover and Annabeth looking at him like, seriously?

This convo:

Percy: Why are you being weird with me again? I thought we’re not doing that anymore.

Annabeth: I’m not being weird.

Percy: Yes, you are. You’ve been weird since we left the Arch.

Again, that’s their relationship.

Percy assuming it’s because of the hug. And Annabeth being like, No idiot I saw the Fates! Percy, honey, you’re the one being weird about it.

At this point, Imma give Grover some popcorn while he watches them argue.

Biker Ares casually asking 3 kids if they need help. Definitely not sus.

Percy, Annabeth, and Grover hiding behind the road barrier like, uh, no, we’re good. Idk, but that’s funny to me.

Ares snorting and saying they’re behind schedule and offering to help his little cousin.

Ares immediately recognizing Annabeth as Athena’s kid. Ares being like, Omfg she sounds just like my sister. That’s definitely her kid.

So a biker offering to help 3 minors in the middle of nowhere and offering them food. In other people’s perspective, that’s definitely sus.

Ares being a Twitter Troll is something I never knew I need.

Percy and Annabeth being so unimpressed with Ares was so funny. Like, so this is the god of war? Really?

Gabe painting Percy as a fugitive, and Percy being pissed about it. Not surprised.

Ares being pumped that there’s a war coming.

Percy and Annabeth fucking ready to fight Ares, and Grover’s just there like, let’s all calm down.

You left your sheild? Like, forgot it on a merry-go-round? Girl, you’re talking to a god.

Negotiating with Ares 101:

Ares: Okay, the satyr stays here while you two get my shield.

Percy and Annabeth: No!

Grover: Okay, sure.

Percy and Annabeth: wtf

The Waterland giving off steampunk/horror movie vibes is something I’m here for.

Percy making plans to take Annabeth to see a movie in the middle of their death quest just because she admitted to never having seen one is just so sweet. PERCABETH!😍

Annabeth being fascinated by Hephaestus’ engineering.

Grover’s therapy session with Ares to get more info is also something I never knew I needed.

The f*cking Thrill Ride O’ Love! IT’S HAPPENING!

Book fans rn:

Annabeth: Don’t you even try to tell me not to be weird about this.

Percy: I didn’t say anything.

Annabeth: I can feel you thinking it.

Oh, my babies. PERCABETH! 😍

Percy calling the Thrill Ride O’ Love a ghost ride is something I agree on.

The awkward silence while they ride the rowboat though, and then suddenly you hear, WHAT IS LOVE? BABY DON’T HURT ME... That shit cracked me up.

The light projections in the tunnel telling Hephaestus’ story.

The ride turning into a horror boat ride to a whitewater rafting ride was so unexpected. I’d pay to see that kind of boat ride rather than an actual tunnel-of-love ride.

Them having to jump and Percy unknowingly pulling Annabeth to safety with his water superpowers. He’s a waterbender and he doesn’t know it. LOL

Ares, the literal god of war, just ranting off to a random satyr he found in the middle of nowhere about his overachiever sister and her feathered pet will never be not funny.

Annabeth not hesitating to sit on the chair, and Percy stopping her.

SEAWEED BRAIN! SEAWEED BRAIN! SEAWEED BRAIN! SHE SAID THE THING! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

Book fans:

[Spoiler] To non-book-readers, that's her nickname for him.

Percabeth arguing about a life/death decision. This is their relationship.

Percy giving Annabeth Riptide. He trusts her. Aww. 😍

Percy having to sit on the chair, while Annabeth gets the shield.

Annabeth nearly backing out at the last second, while Percy assures her that he’s okay while trying not to cry.

Annabeth ignoring the shield then immediately and desperately tries to free Percy.

Annabeth bargaining with Hephaestus. Maybe, I was that way once, but I don’t wanna be that way anymore. I won’t be like all of you.

Hephaestus releasing Percy was definitely his way of saying, Girl, same. You’re a good kid. Imma make sure you’re Mom knows that.

THIS PIC! THIS IS HISTORICAL RIGHT HERE! GO BACK TO THIS POST AFTER THIS SHOW HAS SEVERAL SEASONS AND MOUNT ST. HELENS ERUPTS. *wink-wink

Percy and Annabeth going back to the diner with the shield casually, and then like, we got your shield, now where tf is our ride?

Ares’ ride: The Kindness Internation truck a.k.a. illegal animals smuggling van.

Thank you for the emotional abuse and the cheeseburgers and the ride! ~ Grover Underwood. Iconic!

Grover telling Percy and Annabeth about his therapy session with Ares: I know who stole the master bolt!

Of course, it’s a cliffhanger. But nothing will beat the HoO:MoA one.

Bruh, the amount of Percabeth content in this episode is just *chef’s kiss*. It’s all coming together. I can’t even fathom how much of an emotional rollercoaster I was watching this episode. It just keeps getting better and better! 😍

[imauthicktic]

Kyoutani Kentarou x flirty!crush!gn!reader

Description: flirty reader always spends time with their crush, however, their crush is super clumsy and happens to take the guys down with them

A/N: honestly just so fluffy and cheesy I LOVE and I also plan on doing this for other characters but I had this one done and just haven't posted it yet. I just wanted to give yall some other ✨content✨ while I work on the other requests 😊

You and Kyoutani were heading to the cafeteria for lunch. As usual, Kyoutani was holding your bag and his hand was on your lower back as he directed you through the traffic of students as you rambled on about a show that you’ve been watching lately. He doesn’t respond much other than a small grunt to let you know he’s listening and an occasional question when the characters or storyline gets a little confusing. He took you to the food line and grabbed the food for both of you. “Wowww Kyo! You know what food I like? You really pay attention to me, huh?” You wiggle your eyebrows and bump his hip with yours lightly. Kyoutani turns his head with a slight blush and pays for both of your meals. “Hey! Wait! I was supposed to pay today,” you whined and gave a small pout at him. “Just buy snacks later and we’re even,” he said gruffly. You give him a bright smile as you grab your guys’ food and walk over to the table you two usually sit at. 

Kyoutani sits across from you as you two eat. He likes watching your facial expressions when you talk so he thinks he has the best seat in the place. He was getting distracted by how cute you are when you’re talking and wasn’t paying attention to the conversation at all. That is until you slip off your shoe and dig your toes under his pant leg to grab his attention. He jumped a bit in his seat at the feeling of your tiny foot caressing his shin. “How the hell is your foot so cold even if you’re wearing socks?” He grumbles out. “Sweet boy, you stopped paying attention to me,” you giggle at his embarrassed expression, “I asked if you wanted to try a bite of my food? I see you got something new today and I wanted to try it.” He looked at your food, then your drink, leaned forward to let you take a bite of his meal and nodded his head towards your drink. “I’d actually like to try the drink you brought today. Ya know, in exchange for that bite,” he gave a small smile to you as you grabbed your drink to hand it to him. “Let me know if you like it,” you smile sweetly as he takes a sip. “I can bring you some if you’d like my love,” he nearly spit out his drink at the nickname. 

He should be used to it at this point. You’ve always been sweet to him with these nicknames. He honestly adores it, but you don’t need to know that yet. You usually give all your friends nicknames. Even some of his teammates who you’ve known far longer than you’ve known him. You were their friend since elementary school, so you were around all the time and didn’t like how everyone thought Kyoutani was some terrible person. You made it your job to get to know him and he can easily say you’re the closest person to him. The one who genuinely cares about him and his well-being. But my love is something he’s never heard you use so genuinely. It gave him butterflies and he just wants to do everything he can for you to call him that genuinely for forever. 

Soon, lunch was finished and you were getting up to throw both of your trash away. Kyoutani was not far behind as he matched pace with you heading to your next class. However, you were distracted talking about a project you have in another class that you were unaware of the ‘wet floor’ sign. It almost happened in slow motion. Your shoes lost their grip on the freshly cleaned floor and you let out a squeak as you grab onto the closest thing to you… which just so happened to be Kyoutani who ungracefully fell on top of you on the ground. He effectively pinned you down to the ground. “Ow, ow, ow,” you mutter out as you rub your head softly. “God, you’re always a damn klutz,” Kyoutani muttered with amusement in his tone as he has a small smirk and blush on his face. You let out a small bashful giggle, “Kyo, while you make a great weighted blanket, and I’ll probably ask for you to be one in the very near future, we should get off the floor in the middle of the cafeteria,” you say with a smile. 

Kyoutani rolled his eyes as he stood up and grabbed your arms to help you up from the ground. After getting back up on your feet, you fix your uniform while Kyoutani flicks your forehead. “Wha-! What was that for?” you whine softly. “That’s for pulling me into your fall, idiot,” he chuckles softly before he wraps an arm around your waist, “You okay though? You didn’t hit your head too hard did you?” he asked. You smile softly at his concern, “I’m ok, Kyo~ Not the first time I would’ve fallen for you,” you giggle as you lean in and kiss his cheek softly. Kyoutani’s face turned bright red. “So… date after practice? You can come over and be my weighted blanket while I make you watch that show I was talking about and some takeout?” you suggest cutely. Kyoutani let out a soft sigh and nodded his head before looking off to the side. “I guess that doesn’t sound too bad,” he mumbles out before looking into your eyes again, “it's a… it's a date,” Kyoutani says before kissing your temple softly as his hand around your waist goes to hold your hand. He tugs your hand lightly, “C’mon. Sooner we get this next class over with, the sooner we have our date,” he says in a surprisingly soft voice. You smile brightly as you squeeze his hand softly, “Can’t wait,” you say sweetly.

Lmk what you guys think!! Requests are still open for the event!!!

[mac-lilly]

An awesome team (in the making)

Sneak peek at the "Life with Derek"-inspired AU

*****

The door of her locker got slammed shut, and Julie jumped like a startled cat. But she did not scream. Most certainly not.

“Nice voice, Molina.”

Okay, maybe she did scream. Just a little.

Julie huffed, frustrated. She recognized that voice. Of course, she did.

There was not a single student (or member of staff) at Los Feliz Performing Arts School who didn’t know Luke Patterson’s voice. Because Luke was a lot of things – but never, NEVER, silent.

Scowling, she turned around, and there he was: Luke Patterson with his ridiculously outdated haircut, washed-out band tee, and ripped jeans. Oh, and his stupid grin that was absolutely not adorable. Nope, absolutely not.

“What?!” she snapped at him.

“Whoa, hold your horses.” Luke raised his hands in mock surrender, but his grin turned into a smirk. It did not make Julie’s heart stutter! “I come in peace.”

Julie scoffed, though she wasn’t as upset by his ambush as she would have been under normal circumstances. Actually, she had meant to talk to him.

While they shared a handful of classes and used to be in the music program (before Julie had dropped out), their paths didn’t really cross. They moved in completely different circles. Before her mother’s death, she’d mostly hung out with Flynn, Carrie, and the other girls that formed Dirty Candi. These days, it was just Flynn. But still!

Luke, on the other hand, was in a rock band. And as far as Julie could judge, that was all he ever cared about. He most certainly did not care about school. Luke was chaotic and disruptive, and Julie wondered if he would stay until graduation. With his silly outfits and questionable antics, he was the walking cliché of a rebellious punk-rock teen straight from the early ‘90s.  

So, yeah, they did not mingle. Usually.

“What do you want?”

“Covington assigned partners for the group project.”

Julie frowned at him. “He never assigns pairs.”

“True,” Luke said, rocking on his heels, hands behind his back. Julie sighed. Luke was always like this. Too bouncy. Too fidgety. There was too much energy in him. But today, it seemed worse than usual. “But he did this time.”

Julie huffed. “Great.” That was just great. So much for the grandiose plan she and Flynn had been working on. “Well, thanks for letting me know—”

She cut herself off, caught off-guard by the look on Luke’s face. His smirk turned more sinister, and there was a manic glint in his eye. A horrible realization dawned on her. She gaped at Luke. “No!”

“Yup!” Luke beamed at her and even had the audacity to pump his fist into the air.

Julie didn’t buy it. Folding her arms, she eyed him suspiciously. “Mr Covington hates you.” He’d never team them up.

“He does,” Luke confirmed without a care in the world. His expression turned smug. “Meanwhile, you’re the apple of his eye.”

Julie paled first, then a hot flush blossomed on her face. “I’m not– He–”

Luke smirked triumphantly, and Julie groaned.

“Fine, whatever,” she snapped. “But you better don’t mess this up, Luke.”

Luke saluted. His smile never wavered. “Don’t worry, Boss. I’d never.” He winked at her. “We’re gonna make an awesome team, Julie.” And then he turned and bounded down the corridor to where his friends were waiting for him. There was a fucking spring to his step.

Julie let out another groan, annoyed. Luke wouldn't put in any effort into this project. He never did. She rolled her eyes as she turned to her locker again.

However, when she opened her locker again, she couldn’t help the smile that crept on her lips.

For once, the universe was working in her favor. 

[mamadoc]

The next chapter of my fanfic is posted.

If you were waiting for the happy, angst-free, fluffy village without roller coaster part of the story to arrive to start reading, it’s here! Only minor angst remains.

Angela, Tamara, and Genny conspire to bring Tim and Lucy back together.

Here’s a snippet to pique your interest.

“Bradford,” Tim said as a call interrupted the audiobook he was listening to on his commute home. He couldn’t see his phone to see the caller ID, so he just pressed the button on his steering wheel to answer the call blindly.

“Hey, stranger. It’s been too long,” came the voice over the car speakers.

“Lopez?” Tim confirmed, immediately recognizing his best friend’s voice, but a little bit confused as to why she was calling. “What’s going on? I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“You know. Same old shit. Just kicking ass, raising two kids, and trying not to kill my husband,” she rattled off.

Tim chuckled. Some things never change, he thought to himself as he shook his head. “What has Wesley done this time?”

“Well, he swears that he talked to me about this months ago, but I swear that I would have remembered this conversation if we had had it. So a couple nights ago, we were chatting about our plans for next month, and he asked me if I had taken the last two weeks of June off for our trip. I told him that we weren’t going anywhere for the last two weeks of June because that’s when Jack and Amelia are at their favorite summer camp. Then he told me that we had already signed them up for some international camp that Patrice paid for them to attend in Italy. After arguing about it for over an hour, apparently Wes and Patrice are taking the kids to Italy.”

“Wow. That sounds like quite the argument. Are you going to be able to join them at all?” he said with a low chuckle, envisioning the solid hour of yelling that would have shaken the walls of the Lopez-Evers house.

“I was able to swap shifts around to join them a little bit late. And, when Wesley explained the situation to his mom, she offered to buy me a first-class ticket if I would still join them. How could I saw no to that? I’ll be traveling to Italy by myself in first-class and can drink as much as I want without dealing with charging the kids iPads or settling arguments about who gets to sit by the window or lugging around two weeks’ worth of their crap. There’s no way I would say no to that. Plus, she rented this villa for us to stay at right next to a vineyard, and she won’t even be there most of the time because she’s meeting a friend to travel around Italy together. It’ll actually be a real vacation.”

“That sounds great, Ang. You deserve to have a break.” He wasn’t sure if she was just calling to vent or to share her luck at having a really nice vacation paid for by Patrice or if she had some other purpose in calling, so he just waited to see what she was going to say next.

“So now I only have a little problem left to resolve that I think you could help me with,” she said.

“How am I going to fix your vacation problems? I can’t exactly take your shifts or work overtime for you,” he said with an annoyed but curious tone to his voice.

Keep reading here.

I’d love to hear back from you.

[herprincess]

Melody had always wondered what her life would be like without a family of fame.

From being trained on how to react to paparazzi and literally growing up with it, to the lack of privacy, Melody didn’t really know what a normal life would feel like for herself. But she would see videos of little kids getting pushed on a swing by their mother or father without being swarmed with flashes from cameras.  This was Melodys dream for as long as she could remember.

Yeah, she had everything and everyone at her fingertips, and ‘mommys money’, but none of that could buy the childhood she wish she had. Her Uncle Veneer had always understood when she would tell him this. She recalled a conversation she had with him a few days before.

“Uncle Veneer?” Melody peeped in the doorway of her uncles office, spotting him at the desk doing some paperwork for the show he was currently featuring in. After her mother and him had been released from prison, he had pursued a career in acting and was pretty big in the buisness. Veneer turned around, his eyes lighting up his now sixteen year old niece.

“Hey, Mellybelle! What’s up?” Melody sighed semi-dramatically and crashed onto one of the two office seats placed infront of Veneers desk. 

“Do you ever wish you weren’t famous? Like, you had the same life before you and mommy we’re singers?”

Veneer wasn’t to surprised that she’d asked that. He’d seen it coming. He had always wondered how she had felt about her life. He had actually experienced a normal upper middle class suburban childhood and a typical teenage life up until they were about 17 and a half and the whole scandal happened, so he didn’t really know her inner thoughts.

“Well, some of the time,” he starts, “I sometimes think about how different my life would be. Me and your mom had it all planned out. We would both be ER nurses and do shifts at the same time like we were on Greys Anatomy or something.” He laughed to himself at the memory.

Melody cocks her head to the side and made a perplexed face. “…Really?”

He nods with a half smile. “Yeah, before Vel was all into fame and singing, she was really into nursing. That’s all she talked about. Pediatrics, specifically.”

“I wish she would’ve just done that.” Melody grumbled, resting her head in her hand with a pout that resembled when Velvet didn’t get her way.

“Is that what this is about?” he set the pen down that he was using and focused more on Melody. “It’s okay girl, spill. I know you’ve been holding this in.” 

Melody smiled up at him, he always understood her. “Well… I like the attention from the public, but only sometimes. I want to go to the mall with all my friends without getting drowned by paparazzi. I wish I’d grown up a bit differently, but I don’t want to make mommy upset. Or you. You both worked so hard after prison and after I was born to give me a good life, and I feel kind of ungrateful, but…” Melody trailed off. She didn’t really know where she was going with that, she was just pouring out what she’d been holding in.

He nodded. “I hear ya. You aren’t making me upset, Mel. I know it’s hard seeing all your friends get to do everything you can’t. It’s a consequence of me and your moms actions, I’m sorry, Mellybug.” He frowns at her, opening his arms for a hug.

When she was little she would call them ‘Vennyhugs.’ she remembered that at the perfect time.

“Thank you, I really need a Vennyhug right now.” She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. Veneer gasped.

“Ahhh! You remember!” He threw his arms around her happily. She couldn’t stop smiling for hours after, knowing that someone other than her mom understood her.

Melody decided ‘fuck the paparazzi’ that day. Let them see her. She’d even pose for some pictures! Her friends asked her to go to get ice cream with them, probably expecting the same answer as always, but Melody was determined to go. And would! Velvet had already told her she could go.

She obviously had to get dressed first, though. She put a finger on her chin, examining each shirt, dress, skirt, and pants in her huge 2 story walk in closet This was one of the things she definitely appreciated about Velvet and Veneers fame. She decided on a pink spaghetti strap crop top with matching pink low rise flared pants that had gems shaping in a heart embedded on the back pockets. She then got a pair of silver open toed heels to match the silver gems on her pockets. She then put her hair in two bubble braids, and spun in the mirror, happy with her work.

“Mommyyy!” Melody didn’t care how old she was, Velvet would always be ‘mommy’ to her.

Velvet looked up from her phone. “Aww! Look at my baby! You ate that outfit! Your all grown up, huh.” She stuck her bottom lip out jokingly.

“Mommy, no one says ‘ate’ anymore.” Melody giggled and hugged Velvet. 

She rolled her eyes playfully. “Let me feel young.”

“Your only thirty s-“ Velvet cut her off with a gag. “Do not remind me, young lady. Ewww, I’m old and shriveled!” She shuddered, running her hands along her arms.

Melody looked at her, confused. “Doesn’t the magazines literally ask you to feature and tell how your keep your skin and figure so perfect?” 

Velvet shrugged. “Well, go have fun with your friends! Take your glittery white car, that would be the least expensive to replace if you crash.”

“Mommyyy! I’m not gonna crash it!” Melody says sheepishly, remembering the 2 cars she’d already crashed, somehow always escaping without a scratch. “Mhmmm.” Velvet laughs and kisses her daughter on the forehead.

Orchid stood at the foot of the staircase, arms folded across her chest, she looked like she disapproved. "Melody, darling, do you really think that outfit is appropriate?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm.

Melody paused, her hand smoothing down the fabric of her crop top nervously. "What's wrong with it, Mama? I'm just going out with my friends."

Orchid sighed, her gaze softening as she approached her daughter. "I know, Melody, but you're still my little girl. And that top...well, it just seems a bit...revealing."

Melody almost rolled her eyes to the sky, but that was her mama. A touch of frustration creeped into her voice. "Mama, I'm sixteen. I'm not a kid anymore. Besides, all my friends wear stuff like this." All Orchid could see while Melody was fussing was a kid. She still saw the little five year old in high pigtails and rainbow sneakers.

Orchid reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of Melody's hair behind her ear. "I understand, lovebug. But you have a different life than they do.”

Melody's shoulders slumped, how many times had she heard that? “I know, Mama, but I’m gonna be careful, I promise." She whined, giving Orchid her best puppy eyes that darted from Velvet back to her. Orchid looked at Velvet who was nodding her head, signaling ‘let her go.’

Orchid smiled and sighed, giving in. "That's all I ask. Have fun, but remember, you'll always be my little girl."

“I know I will. Always.”

[mariacallous]

On an island in the Singapore Strait, a thicket of apartment blocks peers mournfully over the sea. A corps of green-shirted gardeners dutifully tends the lawns and herbaceous borders along the roadside. A few cars slip along smooth roads to a commercial center with gleaming marble floors. Amidst the hundreds of closed shopfronts three restaurants are open—a fried chicken chain, a small café, and a gleaming and empty hot pot restaurant. Five duty-free shops are doing better business; some young men are stocking up on beer and Copper Dog whiskey at 11 a.m.

Welcome to Forest City: planned residents, 700,000; current residents, roughly 9,000. Launched in 2014 as part of China’s Belt and Road Initiative, the mega-project is headed by once-real estate giant Country Garden, a behemoth that now sits on the edge of bankruptcy.

At first glance, the project seems yet another tale of a ghost-city built on the back of a Chinese real estate bubble—and then doomed by the COVID-19 pandemic and economic slowdown. Yet Forest City’s story is also a deeply Malaysian tale, involving property-speculating sultans, nationalist politicians, and the country’s complex relationship with Beijing and its own ethnically Chinese minority.

Building a new city to lodge hundreds of thousands of residents on four new artificial islands in the Singapore Strait was always an ambitious venture. But the main market was not locals, but rather speculative buyers from the People’s Republic of China. When sales opened in December 2015, buyers flooded in, many of them buying “pre-sales” of uncompleted apartments. “You’d have buses coming over from Singapore every day filled with people who just landed,” said Tan Wee Tiam, head of research at KGV International Property Consultants. “There were over 1,000 agents in the sales hall, and it still wasn’t enough. … You felt like you were in China.”

Buyers were often looking for not a permanent residence but an investment that could also be a potential holiday home, or accommodation for children who were headed to study in Singapore. Some were reportedly even offered the opportunity to buy a flat in China and get one free in Forest City, said Christine Li, head of research in the Asia-Pacific for Knight Frank.

Yet this reliance on the Chinese buyers also left the project brutally exposed to changes in Chinese policy. The first blow came in 2017, when the Chinese government suddenly imposed capital controls preventing individuals from moving more than $50,000 out of the country annually. The minimum price of a Forest City apartment sits at around $75,000 and can be as much as $3.5 million. Then came the pandemic years which froze international travel—and stamped hard on Chinese real estate and growth.

Yet, Forest City’s staff seem to be holding out hope. Shane Lim, a hire from Singapore, showed me around and assured me that the place is working to attract buyers from across the world, including the Middle East, Indonesia, and Thailand. Still, he estimated that about 70 percent of his colleagues in the sales team are from China.

Halfway through my tour, a Malaysian man calling himself Ozzy introduced himself and his two wives. Now living in the United States, he’s searching for a place to buy in Malaysia that he can use to visit his daughter in Singapore and rent out when he’s away. Looking around, though, he’s unconvinced.

“Look at how empty this place is,” he said. “I’d only be able to rent it out for one or two months a year. … When I visited in 2018 this place was packed. Now there’s no one here. It’s like it’s haunted.” Lim stared at his shoes until Ozzy moved off. He then firmly assured me that the sales hall is busier on weekends.

A wet Wednesday afternoon might not be a peak sales period, but it is hard to escape the reality that the putative new city is barely lived in. Surveying one of the towers I descend from the 34th floor to the first, looking for signs of occupancy—a pair of shoes at the door, furniture seen through the windows that face the corridor, or even just curtains drawn over said windows. The place is eerily well maintained but empty. Just 25 of the 390 flats show any signs of current occupancy.

I met a single resident, a Malaysian Indian woman who said she lived in Forest City with her husband. Declining to give her name, she informed me a neighboring tower is busier. That would not be hard to believe. Some floors in this tower were completely empty with flats whose doors open to the touch, revealing light-filled marble interiors into which dead leaves have blown. Others had notices of a residents’ meeting dated October 2022 still taped to the door.

According to Li, there are signs that buyers may be slowly coming back. But she also suggested that Country Garden might have aimed too high, used to China’s experience of breakneck speed urbanization, supported by strong government support for infrastructure development. That policy created plenty of “ghost cities” in China itself—but until the recent real estate crisis, also huge profits.

Forest City has also suffered from being a political football since its launch, something Country Garden may well not have anticipated. “I did notice Chinese developers tend not to focus on the political climate,” Li said. “They are not used to the idea of general elections, change of government, and change of policies overnight.”

Despite its vast scale, the first time locals heard about Forest City was in 2014, when fisherman woke up one day to find barges dumping sand off the coast. Newspapers dug into the story, revealing that Country Garden’s main partner was none other than the sultan of Johor state, Ibrahim Ismail.

The tie made sense. Many businesses take on Johor royals as partners, benefiting from the influence they wield in the state. The Malaysian government is also bent on transforming southern Johor into a new economic hub, the Shenzhen to Singapore’s Hong Kong. The city was made a duty-free zone. When further investigations also revealed rushed environmental reviews, it took diplomatic protests from Singapore for the central government to intervene and ensure the proper process was followed.

However, things began to shift when the Malaysian government’s grip on power loosened. Rocked by the world’s largest corruption scandal, the China-linked 1Malaysia Development Berhad, voters turned against it. And at 93 years old, former Malaysian Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad exited retirement to lead an opposition filled with former opponents, previously imprisoned under his watch, against a government coalition he once led for 22 years.

Forest City became one of Mahathir’s favorite targets. Inveighing against government corruption and waste, he accused the government of planning to sell out Malaysia to foreigners. Most provocatively, he claimed that the thousands of mainly Chinese buyers of Forest City apartments would be allowed to settle, become Malaysian citizens, and vote in its elections. In a country where ethnically Chinese make up 23 percent of the citizenry—and are often stereotyped as wielding undue political influence due to their wealth—the claim was explosive.

After his shock triumph in the 2018 elections, then-Prime Minister Mahathir followed through on his threats declaring that foreigners would not be allowed to buy property in Forest City. Despite legal challenges, the announcement apparently hit Forest City sales hard.

Five years and a series of dizzyingly complex political maneuvers later, the current Malaysian government is led by Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim. His support is mainly built by ethnic minority-backed parties that triumphed in 2018. To secure his grip on power he needs two things. The first is economic growth. The second is increased support from Malay voters, to which end he has courted the sultans who act as power brokers in their states and take turns acting as Malaysia’s head of state. Perhaps none is more influential than the sultan of Johor, who started his five-year tenure in February this year.

In this context, Anwar seems to have rediscovered the charm of Chinese investment, and Forest City. He has repeatedly praised the Belt and Road Initiative, and in August last year he announced Forest City would be designated a special financial zone with residents offered multiple-entry visas, fast-track entry for those working in Singapore, and a flat income tax rate of 15 percent.

The sultan of Johor has also suggested reviving a proposed high-speed rail link between Malaysia’s capital of Kuala Lumpur and Singapore, with an extra stop at Forest City. And who knows what will happen. After, all the $10.5 billion Melaka Gateway project—launched under the Belt and Road Initiative and apparently scrapped in 2020—is also back underway, after finding new support from the state and federal governments. The developer behind the project recently acquired a major new shareholder, the sultan of Johor.

But the heyday of Chinese investment in Malaysia may well not be coming back. Ten years since China launched the Belt and Road Initiative, it has begun to pull back sharply on its overseas investments. China’s own economic slowdown and business wariness about the increasingly capricious regulatory environment is part of the story. But, the large number of projects gone sour also appears to have made Chinese investors more wary.

Meanwhile, Malaysia is struggling not to get left holding the bag. Should Country Garden go bankrupt, it’s uncertain what will happen to Forest City. At that point the Malaysian government could face the unpalatable option of a potential bailout by the Chinese government, leaving a chunk of Malaysian land in Beijing’s hands. Alternatively, it could step in itself—becoming the proud proprietor of what the developers still proclaim to be “A Prime Model for Future Cities.”

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Rivals - 23

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Eichi, Ibara, Tsumugi, Nagisa

Proofreading: 310mc (JP) & hyenahunt (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Eichi: Fufu. Now, surely you mean evil dictators aiming for world domination?

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: Reverse Live Stage

Eichi: Yet, if all we do is sulk and pester the adults to get what we want, we’ll be no different from thieves.

We must first obtain the same power as adults, so that we may negotiate with them on an even footing.

Ibara: Indeed. Frankly, I was wary of him at first — but Hidaka Seiya-shi proved to be an understanding man.

I cannot gauge how much of our plan is transparent to him, but he has maintained a cooperative stance thus far.

Eichi: Well, I’m not surprised. As I’m sure you know, Hidaka Seiya has made TV appearances since he was a baby, serving as an accessory to his celebrity parents.

He made quite the name for himself as a child actor before he was even aware of the world…

From there, he enrolled in Yumenosaki Academy and had a huge break as an idol, maintaining consistent fame even post-graduation.

He took a short break upon his marriage, but save for that, he has lived in the spotlight for every second since his birth.

To him, a normal life like that of the masses must surely seem like fantasy…

In any case, it’s exactly because he's such a bona fide idol that he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of the idol industry prospering.

He’s an idol first and a human second… He doesn’t know how to breathe anywhere but here.

Just as we can’t breathe anywhere but on this Earth. Improving our own planet simply seems more realistic than finding a new home in a different galaxy.

Ibara: Fufu. That example certainly makes it sound as though we are… saviors who have come to build a paradise in these lands, here to bring peace upon the world!

Eichi: Fufu. Now, surely you mean evil dictators aiming for world domination?

Ibara: Ah, that certainly suits my tastes better! We seem to share the same fancy, Your Grace ♪

Tsumugi: (I-It feels like they’re discussing something rather unsettling… Like I don’t want to know the details at all, but I’ll just end up even more anxious if I look away from it…)

Nagisa: (…Fufu. I’m glad to see Eichi-kun and Ibara getting along.)

Eichi: In any case, to get back on track… Now that we’ve earned Hidaka Seiya’s cooperation, we can move the adults as we desire, to some extent.

The game is approaching its finale.

Going forward, you and I… We will make all the necessary preparations we can, so as to maintain Yumenosaki’s and CosPro’s respective posts in the “plan” that shall commence after my graduation.

Ibara: That's right. We hope to receive benefits as one half of the two leading powers.

After all, we’ve managed to involve other factions through their participation in Project-Saga —

Eichi: Creating connections, and implanting a sense of debt at the same time — that was the plan, wasn’t it? Quite a gamble, but with how smooth things are proceeding, we may be able to cooperate with them going forward.

SS was mostly monopolized by CosPro, and won by Yumenosaki…

So I’d thought the others lacked any real spark, but I’ve finally set my sights on some promising factions.

Ibara: Yes. I do believe we’re of the same opinion…

Perhaps it’s because Project-Saga’s concept as a revival stage for retired idols suits them, but that one long-standing agency is exhibiting fine skill.

Eichi: Indeed. And it seems there’s an enthusiastic new agency, even younger than CosPro.

I suppose that being a new power, they unfortunately lack industry connections… The unit they sent is struggling thanks to the Mentor being a third-rate, but the young Disciples have outstanding talent.

Ibara: Ah, yes, we must be thinking of the same one, I presume? I had my eye on that agency — in fact, I even considered buying them…

But in their case, leaving them to forge their own path may yield far more interesting results than if we dyed them in our color.

Ibara: Aah, what a vast world we live in… It was truly worth slithering my way to this place without so easily giving in.

Eichi: Fufu. The future of the idol industry is bright — both our newbies and our veterans shine so brilliantly. Of course, we mustn’t let our guard down, either.

If we sit back, content in thinking we've conquered the world, who's to say someone won't simply snap up all our cards?

That would be too foolish, wouldn’t it? Let’s steel ourselves to set the final touches in motion.

This is the last stretch for us. And of course, its end will in turn become our first step towards a new beginning.

Ibara: Indeed. Then, we'll simply have to lay the groundwork for a place where factions of differing positions may constantly look and move toward the same goal — just like this stage…

No, rather — all that remains is to see its construction to completion, isn’t it?

Eichi: Correct. It appears that you also manage a construction company, so as you may be aware; the container is ready.

And all the contents we want to fill it with have been duly gathered. All that's left to do is to neatly pack them all in, and complete the container.

Let us create the metropolis of idol culture---

Ibara: And the paradise of this world, just like this.

Eichi: Yes. Not a restrictive heaven under the protection of God, nor a loveless empire governed by an arrogant king…

But a brand new utopia for ourselves, where anyone may enjoy their life as an idol.

Eichi: Ah, how I look forward to it… With this, I'll have yet another reason to not want to die.

[ ☆ ]

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦ next →

[jrosa82]

Part 22 of Discovering Safety

Jason is sitting in his office working out the details for a new project. This time he will be assisting the Gotham General Hospital in updating the pediatric ward, the one that had been named after Martha Wayne. The relatively small project was Jason’s way of getting back to work without worrying Bruce, seeing as the man didn’t want him to overwork himself after his harrowing experience. He had been working for a few hours that day when his office phone began ringing. 

“Hello-” He begins before being interrupted by Dick.

“Jason, hey I was wondering if you’re busy.” The alpha rushes the sentence out before following up with “I was hoping I could take you to lunch.

That’s how half an hour later Jason finds himself having lunch at a dinner a few blocks from the office, with Dick asking him about his latest project. As they eat Jason can tell the other has something on his mind, because although he’s attentive he is also practically bouncing in his seat from excitement.

“Do you want to tell me what’s got you so excited?” he asks.

“I do, actually. I’ve been looking for a new place to live for a while and today I finally bought one. I’m planning on moving out this weekend, and will hopefully have the place furnished by Monday.”

It’s not what Jason is expecting at all, and he doesn’t know what to say, much less how he feels. Over the last two month they had been dating, and as winter grew nearer he felt sure that by next year they would be mated. It felt wrong for Dick to make  a big decision without consulting him, and yet the other man didn’t technically need his permission. He wasn’t sure where that left them, but figured it’d be better to ask for more details, including Dick’s motives for moving out.

“That’s great, but what brought this on? You never mentioned any plans to move before.”

“Oh, I guess I haven’t talked with you about it. It’s simple really, since I was 18 I lived on my own. I’d really gotten used to making my own rules and doing my own thing. When I moved back I wasn’t sure where I was going next so I didn’t want to waste the money on an apartment in the city when I had a room waiting for me. But I think it's time for me to leave the nest again, and once I saw the offer on this place I just knew it was perfect for me.”

As Dick spoke Jason became increasingly more upset. It was clear to him that Dick didn’t see them having a future together any time soon. The alpha kept saying how he wanted things to be for himself. He didn’t mention Jason in his plans at all, not even hinting that Jason could maybe live in this home of his one day.

Jason wouldn’t say he feels entitled to such a privilege, but he does worry that they want very different things from their relationship. Jason knows Dick’s been in relationships before, but he hadn’t thought to ask if theirs was different, if Dick wanted to try for something permanent with him.

❋✱❋✱❋✱❋

Dick feels elated as he tells Jason about his plans. He had wondered if he should wait to buy the place so that Jason could see it for himself first, but then he’d worried that it would be bought by someone else if he didn’t act quickly. After buying the two-story house he felt like he was one step closer to a future with Jason. Before he can begin to feel too excited about it though Jason’s sour apple scent reaches him and he pauses. 

“I don’t think we want the same things from this relationship Dick,” Jason begins and as the words reach his ears he feels his heart plummet. “I think we should end things here before someone gets hurt.” Jason says as he stands and leaves, throwing a few bills on the table to cover his part of the meal. Dick doesn’t get a chance to respond as the omegas rushes out of the dinner.

[lidiasloca]

what do you think about azriel x reader that has daddy issues, like she does small things to try to make him proud and at first he thinks she’s just being cute but he realizes the depth and her need for praise and what’s going on and just reassures her. like he immediately knew why reader was so attached to him when they first met, and he just took on the role as her provider and protector🧎‍♀️i’m just literally projecting😀

reader with daddy issues in a relationship with az

azriel x reader

a/n: this is not exactly what you ask for, but my mind clang to this scene very fiercely. maybe not entirely daddy issues, but definitely issues ig. ps; i plan to write a headcanons blurb about this.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄☆

You and Azriel had been seeing each other for a while now. Though he was falling more and more in love with you with every passing day, and so were you, deep down, you felt like you were also growing attached to him in a very particular way.

You tried not to look too deeply into your heart, to avoid understanding the needs that only your partner seemed able to satisfy.

Things like the constant reassurance of his touch—whether it was holding hands, tracing patterns on your back lovingly, or caressing your thigh when you were at dinner. Anything that involved his familiar, scarred hands touching your skin—you needed it.

You guessed it was because what you truly needed was to know he was there with you. Azriel, the male who protected you as if it were his sole duty—you needed to be certain he was with you.

Because of this, you had grown accustomed to his words of love. You always had a voice in your head asking, “Why does he take such good care of you? Why would he choose to love and protect you?” And that voice could only be silenced by his sweet words.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much, I don’t even know who I’d be without you. I wouldn’t even want to be someone, I think,” he’d tell you as he hugged you tight.

“That was impressive, Y/N. How did I ever get so lucky that the best Valkyrie noticed me?” he’d ask.

“You are doing great, love.”

“You are so talented.”

“What did I even do to deserve you?”

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.”

Those words he would say, you repeated in your mind like a mantra, rejoicing in the memory of him saying them.

But the joy of his love wasn’t enough to make your worry disappear. And so, you kept growing more concerned about him noticing your neediness.

And your biggest fear finally came true one night at dinner...

“Hello? Y/N?” you heard Azriel’s voice from the kitchen, where you were cooking a special dinner for him.

“Here!” You heard his tired footsteps follow your voice. “Hi, Azzie, how was the mission?” you asked when he leaned in to peck your cheek.

“Good, I guess,” he said weakly, but then he peeked from where he rested his head on your shoulder at what you were cooking. “That’s my favorite,” he mumbled, as if talking to himself.

You smiled sweetly and stopped stirring the soup to turn to your mate. “It is.”

He returned your smile, and there was a genuine sweetness in his eyes one could only find in an innocent child. “I love you,” he whispered.

You flushed, looking down at your feet at the sound of those words.

But he went on, pulling your chin up so you met his eyes. “You are too good to me. Too good for me.”

No, you were not.

“I love you,” he concluded.

I love you.

He didn’t. He didn’t. You just made soup. It probably wasn’t even good. He’d probably hate it. But he was too kind to tell you it was terrible. Just like he was too kind to tell you he didn’t actually love you. He didn’t. The soup was terrible.

“Y/N,” he whispered, wiping something wet from your cheek. “My love, what did I say? Why are you crying?”

Oh.

You were crying. “What?” you blurted. “Nothing. It’s probably the onions.”

He didn’t buy it one bit. And though to be loved was to be known, you only found fear in your mate knowing every bit of your soul just by looking at you the way he was watching you now.

“Y/N. You... Is this because of what I said? What I say?” You didn’t dare reply, so he continued. “I see your face change every time I tell you I love you or praise you. Or when I…” He sighed and brushed his hair back. “I don’t know.”

More tears were running down your cheeks. You hated seeing him so defeated and knowing it was your fault. “I’m sorry.”

He met your crying eyes in an instant. “Don’t. Love, don’t be sorry. I’m not mad, and you did nothing wrong. It’s just—I want to understand you.” He put his hand back on your cheek as if he knew how much you needed it there. You immediately leaned into the warm touch and saw how his eyes registered your reaction.

He knew. By the way he assessed you, you knew he had already figured you out. And to your surprise, the thought made you feel free.

So free that before you could think about it, your mouth was speaking of its own accord. “It’s the way I need to feel love. It’s rare,” you said, embarrassed. “You surely must have noticed it already. The way I need certain things from you…”

“Touch,” he said softly, and you weren’t sure if he was asking or simply reflecting on memories that proved what you were saying.

“Yes. Or having you around the house most of the time. Or… words of affirmation.” You were sure your face was wholly red, but, on the contrary, Azriel was all ears, no trace of judgment in his honest eyes. “I can't help but balk at your confessions, but—I… I love them deep down. Most of the time, I need to hear them. It’s... It’s terrible. I’m just very… needy.”

You wanted to run out of the room.

“I understand,” he said tenderly. “And this is nothing to be embarrassed about. Everybody has different ways they want to be loved.”

Oh.

“It’s a relief you actually like when I tell you those things. And that you love to be near me so much. Because I want to give you that, Y/N. I want to do everything you need to feel my love for you,” he explained gently.

You were left speechless.

“But know one thing—I love you no matter what, and despite everything. If you don’t have my hand to hold someday, I want you to still be certain I love you. If I don’t praise you someday, I want you to know you are brilliant. And if someday I don’t tell you how much I love you—Gods forbid that happens—know my feelings for you are just as strong.”

You were a sea of tears at that point. “Please promise me,” he asked.

“Promise you what?” you mumbled weakly.

“Promise me that, at every turn, you’ll know I love you. Promise me, Y/N.”

-Characters by Sarah J Maas

HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3

and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters

[jrosa82fanfics]

Part 22 of Discovering Safety

Jason is sitting in his office working out the details for a new project. This time he will be assisting the Gotham General Hospital in updating the pediatric ward, the one that had been named after Martha Wayne. The relatively small project was Jason’s way of getting back to work without worrying Bruce, seeing as the man didn’t want him to overwork himself after his harrowing experience. He had been working for a few hours that day when his office phone began ringing. 

“Hello-” He begins before being interrupted by Dick.

“Jason, hey I was wondering if you’re busy.” The alpha rushes the sentence out before following up with “I was hoping I could take you to lunch.

That’s how half an hour later Jason finds himself having lunch at a dinner a few blocks from the office, with Dick asking him about his latest project. As they eat Jason can tell the other has something on his mind, because although he’s attentive he is also practically bouncing in his seat from excitement.

“Do you want to tell me what’s got you so excited?” he asks.

“I do, actually. I’ve been looking for a new place to live for a while and today I finally bought one. I’m planning on moving out this weekend, and will hopefully have the place furnished by Monday.”

It’s not what Jason is expecting at all, and he doesn’t know what to say, much less how he feels. Over the last two month they had been dating, and as winter grew nearer he felt sure that by next year they would be mated. It felt wrong for Dick to make  a big decision without consulting him, and yet the other man didn’t technically need his permission. He wasn’t sure where that left them, but figured it’d be better to ask for more details, including Dick’s motives for moving out.

“That’s great, but what brought this on? You never mentioned any plans to move before.”

“Oh, I guess I haven’t talked with you about it. It’s simple really, since I was 18 I lived on my own. I’d really gotten used to making my own rules and doing my own thing. When I moved back I wasn’t sure where I was going next so I didn’t want to waste the money on an apartment in the city when I had a room waiting for me. But I think it's time for me to leave the nest again, and once I saw the offer on this place I just knew it was perfect for me.”

As Dick spoke Jason became increasingly more upset. It was clear to him that Dick didn’t see them having a future together any time soon. The alpha kept saying how he wanted things to be for himself. He didn’t mention Jason in his plans at all, not even hinting that Jason could maybe live in this home of his one day.

Jason wouldn’t say he feels entitled to such a privilege, but he does worry that they want very different things from their relationship. Jason knows Dick’s been in relationships before, but he hadn’t thought to ask if theirs was different, if Dick wanted to try for something permanent with him.

❋✱❋✱❋✱❋

Dick feels elated as he tells Jason about his plans. He had wondered if he should wait to buy the place so that Jason could see it for himself first, but then he’d worried that it would be bought by someone else if he didn’t act quickly. After buying the two-story house he felt like he was one step closer to a future with Jason. Before he can begin to feel too excited about it though Jason’s sour apple scent reaches him and he pauses. 

“I don’t think we want the same things from this relationship Dick,” Jason begins and as the words reach his ears he feels his heart plummet. “I think we should end things here before someone gets hurt.” Jason says as he stands and leaves, throwing a few bills on the table to cover his part of the meal. Dick doesn’t get a chance to respond as the omegas rushes out of the dinner.

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After re-reading this I can't help but scream at my screen asking why. Past me really didn't need to tear them apart like that.

Update next week as per the usual schedule,

<3J

[theaofthesea]

I feel like every day I learn some new horror story about how companies and CEOS are actively choosing to make being a creator harder for people and I wanna get off this fucking ride.

I’m a (non union) actor and a writer. I’m sure we all know by now how companies want to fuck actors over with AI and Google will soon be coming for authors’ work stored on Docs with their new AI BS. (Which, as far as I’m aware, is still in beta and you have to opt into it, but I’m sure it’ll be standard in the terms and conditions before long).

But I’ve just seen someone point out how we may not want to use any cloud based writing app (like notes on my phone, which I had started using to draft chapters and plan another upcoming creative project) and I just want to scream. I switched to this after I cleaned out my docs and now I guess I have to go back to just using Word (the installed version, not it’s online counterpart) and carrying around my thumb drive. Which means I have to buy another laptop if I want to work away from my desktop bc I have a chromebook I got for school/writing on the go bc this wasn’t an issue when I bought it!!!

It’s obnoxious that it seems like all our tools as creatives are being weaponized against us so companies can profit off the work we put our souls into and they can just steal it so they don’t have to compensate us fairly, which they already weren’t doing.

It makes me wonder what’s going to happen when executives don’t give actors and writers what they need and they all leave the industry to go to theater, or become influencers, or change professions entirely? I can’t imagine any aspiring actor would agree to those terms, (yes, scabs are a thing but everyone hits their limit eventually for being treated like shit & they’ll realize and leave too bc they’ll want to work enough to pay their bills & execs won’t allow that) so where does that leave them? And with everyone taking all their stuff off google docs, there’s nothing left to steal and no writers + no material + no background or supporting actors = no production.

I want to be hopeful and say “maybe that’ll teach them to treat creatives like we deserve” but even that potential annihilation of an industry probably isn’t enough to remove their heads from their asses and make them act right.

I’d love to hear what other people think of all this.

[windowlessatmosphere]

My Best Friend’s Boyfriend, Ch.1

Summary: Payu takes it upon himself to get to know Sky better, seeing as he’s Rain’s best friend. Once Prapai starts dating Sky, he and Rain try to bond, too. Meanwhile, Rain is incessantly campaigning for a double date.

“We could ask the cooking club to provide the food, that would cut costs.”

“That’s a good idea, if they’re willing to do it.”

“I’ll ask them,” Payu offered. “They’ll be more likely to say yes.” Sky nodded in agreement, checking another item off the long list they were working their way through.

“Did you already get permission to use the auditorium?”

“Yes, they said it’s fine as long as we clean up after.”

“Okay, great,” Sky murmured, putting a star beside that item and adding a quick note. “That should be everything for today,” he let Payu know. “Thank you again for helping.”

“Of course,” Payu agreed easily. “Can I buy you a meal?” 

Sky hesitated for a moment before agreeing, not having spent much time alone with Payu outside of the open house they were in charge of planning. They headed to a nearby restaurant and sat outside, enjoying how nice the weather was for once. Sky wasn’t sure why Payu wanted to share a meal with him, but his demeanor didn’t give anything away. Payu just chatted casually with him the entire time, asking about his family and his classes and how he’d chosen his major. That one saw them going off on a long architecture tangent, only ending when the arrival of the food interrupted their conversation. Payu thanked the waiter, and Sky momentarily dropped his suspicions to focus on the meal. They talked throughout, never touching on any subjects that Sky would have assumed to be the point of the outing. Payu didn’t even bring up Rain that much, aside from a few anecdotes here and there that had Sky snorting into his food.

Once the meal had ended, he finally brought it up, unwilling to draw it out any longer.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” He asked, not mincing any words. Payu just gave him a questioning glance in response, so he continued. “Is it about Rain?”

“I just wanted to get to know you better,” Payu furrowed his brow. “You’re Rain’s best friend, I’d like us to get along.” Sky simply hummed noncommittally in response to that, still unsure whether Payu was angling for something or not. Payu offered to drive him back to his dorm once they left the restaurant, but Sky declined, opting to walk instead.

They met up again the next week to go over more details for the event. Sky had to admit, Payu seemed very determined to make sure the event went off without a hitch, anticipating problems before they arose and making sure to include Sky in every decision. 

When they finished up, Payu again offered to treat him to a meal, making Sky frown. His current theory was that Payu was hoping to get close to Sky, then ask him for information whenever Rain wasn't forthcoming. It wasn’t a great guess, though, seeing as how Rain folded like a road map where Payu was concerned. Still, anything Rain would keep from Payu was probably something he would be even more invested in finding out, so that theory wasn’t entirely out.

Sky considered it, but decided to say no to dinner. He gave Payu an excuse and headed home instead, using the extra time to get ahead on his schoolwork and call his dad. He didn’t think about it at all for the next few days, until he got a text inviting him to an architecture seminar a local museum was putting on. Sky frowned at his phone, immediately texting Rain to figure out what was going on.

Sky Why is your boyfriend trying to date me?

Rain skyyyy he just wants to get to know u!!! give him a chance plsssss 🥺

Sky rolled his eyes, coming to the conclusion that Rain would be of absolutely no help. He clicked on the link Payu had sent, scrolling through the website and realizing it was actually something he was interested in. They were even going to be discussing biophilic design, which he’d mentioned to Payu at their dinner the week before. He bit his lip, considering, before sighing and texting Payu back to say that he’d go. At least he’d get to enjoy the seminar, and maybe he could figure out why Payu kept trying to spend time with him. Normally, he’d be concerned that Payu was trying to start something with him, but he’d seen the way Payu looked at Rain and he didn’t see that happening any time soon.

The seminar wasn’t too bad. In fact, it was actually fairly enjoyable. Payu was good company. He was practically a well of architecture knowledge, and he was much more well-behaved than Rain. Sky didn’t have to worry about keeping him out of a fight or reminding him to pay attention, which was a welcome change. He didn’t figure out what Payu was up to, and even entertained the idea that maybe he did just want to get to know Sky better.

Unfortunately, Rain thought that as well, which meant there was only about a one in ten chance that it was actually the case. He spent the next few days mulling it over, and eventually came up with three options.

The first was that Payu needed someone to give him information when Rain wouldn’t. He didn’t think it was entirely likely, since Rain couldn’t keep his mouth shut in general, let alone when Payu was the one asking. Also, while Sky might be the most likely person to have that information, there were certainly easier targets. Sig, for one.

His second theory was that Payu still hadn’t gotten the full story about Ple, and wanted Sky to tell him. This made slightly more sense, as it might be something that Payu felt hesitant to bring up around Rain, and from what Rain had said, Payu definitely had a jealous side. On the other hand, Payu hadn’t mentioned Ple once in all the time they’d spent together, so either that wasn’t what he was after, or he was seriously playing the long game.

His third theory was the most unlikely of all, but was gaining more and more traction the more time he spent with Payu. That Payu actually just wanted to spend time with Rain’s best friend. He still didn’t believe it, but he had to admit, it lined up the most closely with the way Payu was acting. He was determined to figure out which theory, if any, was correct. The next time Payu invited him to something, he would agree and get to the bottom of all this.

His chance came quickly, with the two of them meeting up again to nail down some of the final details for the event. Afterwards, as expected, Payu offered to treat him to dinner, and Sky accepted, as per his plan for the evening.

They chatted casually before placing their orders, Sky deciding to cut to the chase before he was inevitably distracted by the food arriving.

“P’Payu,” he started, tone even. “Did Rain ever talk to you about Ple?”

Payu perked up at that immediately, looking interested. “No,” he dragged the word out a little, indicating that Sky should continue.

“So I guess you don’t want to know?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” Payu corrected him. “But I didn’t want to push.” Sky snorted at that. From what Rain had said, Payu was not generally hesitant to push.

“How about this? If you tell me why you keep inviting me out, I’ll tell you about Ple. Whatever you want to know.” Payu furrowed his brow in response, not jumping on the offer as Sky had hoped. 

“I thought we talked about this.” His tone was one of bemusement. “You’re Rain’s best friend, that’s why I want to spend time with you.”

“That can’t be the only reason,” Sky waved him off, unfazed by his explanation.

“If you were dating someone, wouldn’t you want to get to know their friends?” Payu argued, probably under the impression that he was making a good point. Sky felt his chest grow tight at his question, urging his mind not to turn to thoughts of Gun, or his friends.

“Sure,” he replied, a beat too late, needing something to say that would hopefully end the conversation. He took a deep breath, doing his best to control his shaking hands.

“Sky?” Payu sounded concerned, which meant Sky was not doing a good job of concealing his emotions.

“I’m fine,” he said abruptly, before the question could even be asked.

“Okay,” Payu agreed. It wasn’t very convincing, but he wasn’t really one to talk, Sky supposed. It was awkward for a few minutes, until Payu restarted a conversation about architecture they’d been having previously. It was painfully obvious what he was trying to do, but Sky felt grateful for it regardless. The change in topic did the job, and Sky was able to slowly come back to himself as they talked. The food helped, too, serving as a welcome distraction when it finally came. Sky even found himself telling Payu about Ple near the end of the meal. He figured Rain was right (for once), and he likely didn’t have any ulterior motives in getting to know Sky. Of course, if he did, Sky figured that giving in after Payu had almost caused him to have a breakdown would at least make him feel like shit. If he had a conscience, anyway, which Sky had found to not always be the case.

After that, Sky found himself more and more able to take Payu at his word, which seemed to be quite reliable. They spent more time together, with and without Rain, who seemed overly excited about the two of them bonding. This lasted up until he discovered that Sky and Payu had an inside joke that he wasn’t a part of. As soon as he found that out, he launched himself at Payu, pouting and insisting that he needed to be invited along next time.

Predictably, Payu caved immediately, and their one-on-one time became two-on-one time, which Sky didn’t begrudge. It made more sense to him, anyway, given that Rain was the main reason they were bonding in the first place. Having him there was only logical, he reminded himself when Rain inevitably said the wrong thing to the wrong person and he and Payu had to step in.

The more the three of them hung out, the more Rain would insist that Sky needed a boyfriend. He suggested Prapai a few times, which was brave of him, considering Sky’s response.

“I don’t mind third wheeling,” he reassured Rain, who was tugging on his shirt, eyes pleading.

“I’m the third wheel,” Rain pouted. “It’s completely unfair.” Sky snorted at that. It was absolutely untrue, as Payu only had eyes for Rain, and vice versa. They were very good at being very annoying, but he did like spending time with them, loathe as he was to admit it.

“I don’t need a boyfriend,” he told Rain for the hundredth time. “And if I did, it wouldn’t be P’Pai.”

“He’s sweet!” Rain insisted, still pouting a little bit.

“Is that why you gave him my keys?” Sky shot back, raising an eyebrow. Rain shifted guiltily. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“I know,” Rain whined. “I’m sorry I couldn’t ask you. But I knew he was trustworthy!”

“How? You barely know him!”

“P’Payu trusts him.”

“...Fair enough.”