#I'm just impressed this person had time and energy to write all that

[lantur]

I've been quietly processing and reflecting all day. There's a lot of grief for the future that the nation could have had, grief and anger for the reality of what the majority of the American people wanted, and worry for the future, on so many different levels.

I wrote yesterday about what it meant for me, as a person, to vote for Kamala Harris, after my experience with racism as a child and teenager. In light of that, the loss feels even more personal and devastating to me than it did when Hillary lost. It's too painful on a deep emotional level to talk about properly.

The one thought I had earlier today that made a lasting impression on me is the importance of art. I went to the gym this morning and listened to Eminem while I worked out. I've listened to his music for the past ~20+ years. It's been there for me during every period of stress and pain and anguish in my life, and in 2022-2023, when I felt crushed by grief and when I felt like I was breaking apart, mind and body.

I listened to this music that means and meant so much to me today and I was so comforted. For an hour, I didn't have grief, fear, anger, or uncertainty, I just had me and the music that I love.

I hope that we can all find comfort when we need it most, in the music, art, writing, video games, podfics, podcasts, visual medias, that we love. I'm grateful to the creators that put their heart and soul, their time and effort and energy, into the art that comforts us during the darkest of times.

[feyascorner]

3 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You hate him, you think. You want to hate him, at the very least.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke."

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard, large chunks of italicized texts are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. redemption arc is coming i swear :) this is a whopping 4.7k i got kinda carried away but oh well,, Thank you so much for your comments on these they make my day and i appreciate each one<3

Dance upon the stars tonight

Smile and pain will fade away

“And what might our dear bard be working so passionately on?”

You look up from your notebook, ceasing the messy scribbling of lyrics into its tattered pages. Astarion perches himself beside you, the flames of the campfire flickering in the reflection of his eyes as you stop humming and raise a cautious brow. A vampire spawn. You’d never seen one in person–-only had you heard of them in your childhood tales of the spawn that would sweep away naughty children if they didn’t finish their vegetables. Up close, you can almost see his fangs protruding from the grin he's constantly wearing.

You wonder if it’s a genuine one.

“That bard at the grove today,” you recall. “Alfira? I’m trying to finish the lyrics and write them out for her.”

“Is that so? Surely you’re receiving some sort of payment for these gracious services?”

You train your eyes back onto the pages, shaking your head. “I’m doing this for fun. Her song is beautiful. It just needs—” you squint. “--adjustment.”

He laughs, and you can see the fangs clearly now. They’re sharper than you expected them to be. “I believe that’s a drastic understatement, my dear. My heart felt for those poor squirrels. I’m quite willing to bet that they have an aversion to bards now.”

“And you’re suddenly a musician yourself?”

“It doesn’t take a musician to recognize poor singing, darling Tav,” he returns. “And considering I’ve spent the past few days listening to your music, I’m sure you’ll understand why I considered it such an abomination.”

You narrow your eyes. “I thought you didn’t like me–or my music.”

“You? I'm still deciding,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. “But I must say that I’m growing rather fond of that lyre of yours. Have you had it for long?”

You give him a sidelong glance before answering slowly. “I’ve had it for ages. Practically when I just started.”

“Explains itself then, I suppose.”

“And you?” you watch as he leans back on his palms. “Do you have any other talents to offer to our companions, or is it just your teeth?”

“Now, don’t be so cruel, dear,” he smiles wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re rather fond of them as well. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring all the time.”

“I’m on guard,” you clarify.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You’re not sure if you can sleep with one eye open, much less both of them closed. You’re not sure if you trust him at all, either, but as he stares up at the starry sky, simply listening to the crackling of the campfire, you decide you’d rather save yourself the energy for what awaits tomorrow.

“Why did you do that earlier?” you find yourself asking, and he replies by glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Do what?”

“Save Wyll from that goblin arrow,” you mumble. “I thought you didn't care about any of us.”

“And what gives you that impression?”

You deadpan, staring at him with lidded eyes and he laughs out loud. It sounds more genuine than anything else he’s offered so far. It's nice.

“It’s a simple transaction, dear. One where I receive protection in turn for the occasional aid I can give with my own blade.”

You squint at him, but you see no signs of deception. So instead, you simply nod and resume scribbling into your notebook, softly humming to yourself alongside the lyrics. And when you halt, stuck on a particular lyric that you can’t seem to remember, you hear him shift, standing himself back up to retreat to his tent.

“Something about faith and care comes next if my memory serves,” is all he says before striding away. While you watch him in confusion, you click your tongue and try to focus again. And when you look down at your page, you remember the rest of the words.

Somehow, you feel the corners of your lips lift.

“As much as I’d love for this to be a charming, long-awaited reunion, one of the parties imposes a danger to the other.”

You wince at the sarcasm dripping from Gale’s voice. Duke Ravengard’s expression remains solemn, unmoving like a stone, while your companion pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We can’t harbor a vampire spawn in our home. We’re supposed to be finding them, not keeping them!”

You hate the irony of the statement because the camp you’d spent so many months in with an uninvited guest in your head, had also been your home. One where you spent your nights in a vampire spawn’s tent. It’s not so different, you keep telling yourself. But you’re painfully aware that the Duke only knows a sugar-coated version of the falling out between you and said vampire. He doesn’t know how his son had to tear Astarion away from you and how your voice had been sore for weeks afterward.

“As much as I have my own opinions with allying with a vampire spawn,” the Duke stares at Astarion warningly. “Wyll did say this spawn saved his life while your party ventured together. For that, I'm willing to see reason if he’s cooperative, rather than restrain him with the Fists.”

You never thought much of it until now. With how many life threatening experiences you and your companions had come across, it felt natural to save one another. At first, it had been out of necessity—fear that one person would turn into an illithid. Yet, with time, you'd all grown fond of each other, one way or another.

You think back to when Astarion had saved Wyll and wonder if that part of him is still in there. Maybe it was never there at all. Maybe it had been another one of his manipulation tactics that you're so prone to falling for.

Gods, you're hopeless.

The wizard standing beside you sighs irritably. “But that was before he tried to squeeze the life out of-”

“How long do we need to keep him?”

Gale balks at your words. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“Just until we’re able to locate the rest of the spawns spread throughout the city, which you kindly decided not to mention in our last conversation.”

You shoot Gale a glare, silently questioning if he’d been the one to confess the existence of the spawns underground, but he’s too busy scanning over Astarion, who’s mindlessly fidgeting with his knife. The said spawn seems to feel your gaze, because he glances at you, then grins.

The bastard is smiling.

“The man you killed this morning is a spawn himself, yes?” the Duke clarifies. “There have been numerous reports the past few days about strange figures with fangs throughout the city—I’d known they’d existed, but to the numbers that are being reported…”

“You couldn’t have possibly believed myself to be the only spawn around?” Astarion laughs bitterly. “I do not wish to go hungry, Duke, but I don’t need nearly as many bodies that’s been showing up—assuming that I did drink from anyone, of course.”

Ravengard ignores him, speaking as if he’s not there. “I could still have him detained if that is what you wish. We can continue as we have and search for the spawn without his help.”

You know it’s a fruitless effort if last night has told you anything.

“You don’t even have evidence that I drank from a single person in this entire bloody city!” Astarion spits back, rolling his neck in exasperation.

“No,” you purse your lips, finally looking up. “I’ll be responsible for him.”

Gale clears his throat alarmingly. “Now, dear leader, let’s have a private conversation before we make any hasty decisions, yes? Surely, we don’t have to decide right this moment.”

And while you open your mouth to respond that no, you won’t have Astarion rot away in some gross cell, the Duke nods. “Very well.”

Gale pushes you to the corner of the room, with his face clearly paling in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking. You want someone who nearly strangled you to death sleeping in the room next to yours?”

“Ravengard wants us to find out where the other spawn are hiding, and the only lead we have is sitting right there,” you defend yourself. “Throwing Astarion into a dirty cell won’t do anything to convince him to help us.”

“The Duke doesn’t know what he did to you!”

“He doesn’t need to. Astarion’s made it very clear he’s not going to spill any information if the Duke is the one asking, and we need a lead. I nearly died last night, Gale. I want to avoid that if I can.”

His eyes soften just a bit, but it’s enough. With a loud sigh, he scrunches his nose. “And you’re sure you’re not doing this for more personal reasons?”

At this, you pause. Your eyes waver, and the look Gale gives you is almost soul-crushing if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you’ve already hit rock bottom. You know this is not a good idea. You know that being so close to him again after so many months is not a good idea, especially when you’ve just finally begun your journey to forget him.

You curse the gods above for your luck.

The silence prompts Gale to speak. “I’ll tell the Duke we can’t involve ourselves in this.”

“Gale,” your voice almost cracks. “Please.”

He doesn’t want to agree, you can tell. Any sane person wouldn’t invite a bloodthirsty vampire spawn who’s willing to use his own hands to kill his so-called lover into their home. You want to think that you’re void of bias, but you know it’s a pathetic attempt to reassure yourself. Still, the expression on your face must be quite the sight because Gale takes one look, glances at Astarion, then slumps his shoulders. You’ve won.

You hadn’t even realized the door had been swung open, where your other companions had been standing, taking one look at Astarion then to you. While Gale wallows in his own defeat, you turn to the others, eyes glimmering with a kind of hope that they haven’t seen in months.

“Your judgment’s gotten us this far,” Shadowheart sighs. “We’d be fools not to trust it now.”

Lae’zel clicks her tongue. “My blade is ready to slit his throat if need be. Just command me, and I shall.”

“We aren’t going to try to kill him," you retort.

“It’s only right to return the favor."

Dinner is awkward. You’re finally getting to try Gale’s stew, but it’s hard to focus on the taste when all you can feel is the searing stare of the person sitting across from you. He only has a goblet of crimson liquid in the same shade as his eyes in front of him, and it remains untouched as he takes in the rest of the house.

“So,” Gale offers. “What have you been up to?”

It’s not much, but it’s better than sitting in complete silence.

“Wandering the streets at night, mostly. Oh, and murdering half the city, apparently,” Astarion lets out his usual high-pitched laugh at the end, and your fingers tighten around your spoon. Shadowheart glares at him through her lashes, and you think she may lunge at him any second. You want to think you wouldn't stop her.

You feel for her, really. Being the group’s cleric comes with its advantages but also with the unspoken burden of watching your companions in pain. She’d been the one to ensure Astarion hadn’t left long-lasting damage to your throat. She’d been the one to soothe your headaches and cast a sleeping spell on you in hopes it’ll allow you to rest longer than just a few hours. She’d also seen you nearly bleed out multiple times, one of which occurred mere hours ago.

The sudden scrape of Lae’zel’s chair being pushed back catches your attention. She stands, lifting her bowl with her. “The air here is suffocating. Sort out your differences before I sort them out for you.”

The rest of you collectively nod. She doesn’t say anything else before leaving the room.

“The room at the end of the hallway upstairs is yours,” Shadowheart says finally. “Don’t bother me if you need anything else.”

She stands up as well, leaving her bowl in the sink before pacing up the stairs to her own quarters.

Somehow, the atmosphere is even worse now. You don’t dare lift your eyes from your stew, and you honestly hope it explodes before you have to sit here and drink all of it in this silence. Gale, thankfully, does not leave. Instead, he sets down his utensil.

“I suggest we have a set of rules in place–for the sake of everyone occupying this home,” he clears his throat. You shoot him a questioning look, which he dusts off.

“Fine,” Astarion leans back in his chair, now swirling the goblet of blood in his hand. “What do you have in mind?”

“No drinking. From anyone here.”

You blink a few times, then hear Astarion hum in acknowledgment. “Shame. Though your blood was vile anyway.”

“And don’t cause any trouble. One of us will go with you when you need to drink, so you can hunt for whatever animal you prefer these days. Otherwise, unless we say so, you’ll remain here.”

“Why, this sounds almost identical to a prison. Looking for a job as a warden, Gale? A midlife crisis, perhaps. Does wizard life not suit you anymore?”

“It suits me plenty, thanks,” Gale snorts. “We’ll be out during the day to rebuild the city, so you’ll have to entertain yourself in your own room. Don’t touch anything—especially my stuff.”

Astarion grins. “That almost sounds like an invitation.”

The wizard then turns to you. “And you? Do you have any other rules you’d like to add?”

You finally lift your head from the stew, looking back and forth between the two before shaking your head while pushing your chair back. For someone who’d imagined aimlessly for months about seeing your former lover again, you can’t seem to look him in the eye for fear of what you might feel. “I’m going out.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

Wordlessly, you pace toward the door, refusing to look back to suppress the urge to sprint back into his arms. You don’t know what you were thinking just a few hours ago, but this was not going to end well. If you couldn’t manage a simple dinner sitting across from him, what could you manage?

You’re in such a rush that you forget to bring anything besides your wallet.

By the time you’re on your way back to the house hours later, you have a backpack shoved full of fabrics with nails and a hammer to go along with it. As you pass by the taverns, you hear music playing from inside, alongside a few cheers and what you can only assume to be a crash of chairs as people applaud. 

You can’t help but peer through the window as you walk past, where a bard merrily plays on his drum, lightening the mood of the entire tavern—even the bartender smiles along as he plays tunes you’ve heard a million times before. And while your hands itch for a lyre—to feel the string snap against your fingertips—you know no good will come of it. You’ll only sit before the instrument, your hands unable to find the emotions to exert in the form of notes. 

As you stare at the bard, you remind yourself you’ve long given up on that kind of life.

So instead, you continue your way to the Highberry’s home. When you knock on the door, a very weary Cora Highberry greets you with bags under her eyes, but a calm smile still stretching on her lips nonetheless. She steps out of the way, inviting you in, and you do so.

“You didn’t have to, dear,” she says as she takes a bag of the city’s finest fruits from your hands. “The neighbors have been oh so gracious to us. They’re helping the children so much, I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”

“I was just passing by, that’s all,” you offer. “I wanted to check on you since I left a bit abruptly last time.”

“Oh, dear, you know how to make a woman feel special. It’s been terrible, really. I haven’t gone so long with my husband in ages…” she laughs, wiping at her swollen eyes. “But we were an old couple anyways…I had some time to prepare my emotions. I just didn’t think he’d go like that.”

You nod as she hands you a mug of hot tea. “But never mind that. I’ve spent the past two weeks talking about nothing but myself, so I’m quite tired. What about you, dear?”

“Me?”

“You look like death themselves,” she frowns. “I’ve lived for quite long…I recognize that heartbroken face anywhere. Has something happened?”

The way she’s staring at you—it’s different than pity. You can’t quite identify it, but she smiles again. It’s not the kind of smile most people give you—not one of anticpation, not one of gratefulness, but just a regular, old smile. And it makes your shoulders untense just the slightest before they tense again. You take a swig of the tea, nearly burning your throat in the process as you set the mug down, splitting a pathetic smile. “No, I’m okay. Just--tired.”

Very, very tired. Not physically, no, but tired of the indecisiveness that is your heart.

Her face falls softly. “How troubling it must be to have the weight of the city on your shoulders."

Before you can answer, there’s a loud thud upstairs. She notices your alarm and shakes her head. “Ah, must be Berry. She’s one of the younger children, and she’s been taking my husband’s death quite hard. Please excuse me, dear. I need to go put her back to sleep.”

And with that, you’re left alone on the first floor of the building again. You contemplate staying to say your farewells but the cries from upstairs convince you otherwise. Taking one last swig from the mug, you gather your things and leave.

When you get back home, it’s well into the night, an hour or two after midnight, you’d think. None of the lights are on, so the first thing you do is light a candle when you step through the door, dropping your backpack onto the dining room table. Dunking all your materials out, you take the hammer and start your work.

There’s something soothing about the darkness outside, with the way nothing seems to exist besides you and your own thoughts in a city that overflows with a sense of community. You try not to think about the man most likely reading in his room just a floor above you and focus on hanging the fabrics in front of all of the windows. The cloths are mismatched in color, and your hammer work is nothing more than sufficient, but it’ll do for now. At least until you can get actual curtains installed.

You worry that some of the fabrics aren’t thick enough to absorb all the sunlight, so you layer another fabric on top of it until you’re sure that even your candlelight cannot be seen from outside. Why you’re going so far for him, you do not know. You prefer to assure yourself that you need him to help stop the spawn from devouring the entire city, but even in your own thoughts, it sounds like a lie.

You wonder if he cares nearly as much as you do. He probably doesn’t.

You hate him, you think for the millionth time today. You want to, at the very least.

You flinch when a splinter in the wooden wall splits your skin open, forming a drop of blood on your index finger. Curse the heavens above, nothing was going right today. You quickly reach for a towel but nearly jump when you hear his voice from the stairs. 

“You really need to stop with that habit of yours.”

You spin around, and he’s already at the foot of the stairs, reaching to grab a towel from the kitchen. But you’re faster, snatching it away and pressing it over your hand while he raises both his own, imitating a surrender of getting any closer. You can’t look at him in the eye—you don’t want to either. “What habit?”

“You’re speaking to me now?” he raises a brow, and you turn away again after shooting him a glare. “I’d thought you’d avoid me forever—scurrying off like a squirrel whenever I step into the room.”

You should avoid him forever. But the words don’t reach your tongue, and you choose to ignore him.

He doesn’t budge. “I meant bleeding around me.”

“What?”

“Every time I see you, you always seem to be bleeding.”

You frown at him. “Maybe you just prefer being around me when I’m bleeding.”

“You might be right." You think maybe he’s done with this painfully awkward conversation until you see him staring at the windows covered with random pieces of fabric, and suddenly, you feel embarrassment creep up your skin. You realize how bizarre your actions must appear in someone else’s eyes, staying up to the break of dawn so that he’ll be able to traverse someplace outside the confines of his own room…

It might make him think you care, and the worst part is that a part of you does.

“I hope you don’t expect me to thank you, darling.”

The nickname feels like a stab to your heart, haunting, even, but you do your best to brush it off.

“For what?” you manage to force out through clenched teeth.

“The cell they would’ve thrown me into is nothing different from trapping me in that room, I’m afraid,” he laughs bitterly, and you want to crawl into a hole from how cold his voice sounds. Distant. Like how he’d sounded the day you found him next to his nautiloid pod. “But I suppose I should be grateful for having a bed instead of having to spend my days rotting away on the dirty floor?”

You bite your bottom lip, brows furrowing. “I don't expect anything from you.”

But you do. Not quite an expectation, but a lingering wish that maybe you can heal. It's pathetic, even in your own eyes and surely everyone else's, but you can't be bothered to care.

It pisses you off a bit. How he seems perfectly unfazed while you continue to drown in your own feelings.

“Are you just here to taunt me, or is there a reason for this conversation?” you snap. This is not quite how you wanted your reunion to go.

He raises a brow. “Taunt you? I'm only answering questions you're afraid to ask.”

“I don't need to know anything about you,” you grit through your teeth. “You left my mind the second you abandoned us.”

What a poor, wishful lie.

“Ha!” It doesn't really sound like a laugh—more a scoff of disbelief. It's like he knows what you're thinking, and for a split second, it feels like there's a tadpole in your head again. “Of course you think I'm the villain of your precious heroic tale! Honestly darling, the irony just writes itself.”

You fight the urge to scowl, but you're not sure if you're successful. You find yourself gripping onto the towel harder, teeth clenched as your chest tightens just hearing his words. You truly hate that he seems to care less than you—it’s like he's not even taking you seriously.

And that damned nickname.

It feels like talking to the Astarion you first met—one who’s only intentions were to use you—but this time, you don't think it’s a mask. He doesn't want anything more from you. Only your own suffering from taking the power that would have made him untouchable.

“So tell me, dear, do you wish for me to grovel at your feet?”

Your eyes widen, and the term of endearment that once made your cheeks flush only makes you feel sick. “What?”

“Do you expect me to drop to my knees, begging for your forgiveness?” he says again, eerily composed while you struggle to come up with words. “Perhaps I would have if we were still staying in that camp. Put on a show, even."

You frown, setting your hammer down on the counter. “I’ve never made you grovel. I’ve never made you do anything.”

“Maybe not directly, no, you’re too kind of a soul to do so,” there’s venom lacing the words that feel nothing short of a lie. Somehow, he’s still smiling. “Instead, you made me beg for your help. You accepted—made it feel like I had a choice. Then tore it away just the same, in the cruelest way possible. Impressive, really. I didn't expect such dramatic sins from you.”

The way he looks at you, words dripping with sarcasm, makes you want to melt into the floor, ceasing to exist as a whole. But alas, you continue standing like a deer in headlights, unsure of how to respond. You look down to see the towel stained with your blood and inhale deeply, watching the dark sky lighten with daybreak through the window. “The sun’s rising.”

His smile drops, something foreign flickering in his eyes. He suddenly steps toward you, and as soon as he gets within two feet, you find yourself stepping backward, your fingers tightening around the hammer. You have no idea if you'd even be able to use it, but it's better than digging your nails into your palms.

It doesn't go unnoticed.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

You don't want to think he'd truly kill you. Not really, but your mind flashes back to the look in his eyes when he had his hands wrapped around your lifeline, and you grip the hammer tighter, heartbeat pounding impossibly fast.

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke,” you mutter.

His lip twitches, and he steps back bitterly. You feel like you can breathe again.“Ah, yes, that.”

You swear your stomach drops to your feet at the mere suggestion he’d forgotten what haunts your nightmares every night, forcing you to lurch from your rest in a cold sweat, hands shaking, and having nobody to turn to for comfort. He couldn't be that cruel…could he? You want to scream at him, punch him, kick him, tell him he’s not being fair. You want to defend yourself, say that all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be safe, but even that feels like too much when he’s giving you so little.

“Very well, I’ll indulge you,” he grins again. You realize your time is running out, the sun beginning to peer out from the horizon. “Why did you assume responsibility for me? I can’t imagine why you’d want such a terrible foe in your life living right next door of your own sanctuary.”

For the city, you tell yourself. For Cora's husband and the poor victims drained off their life, all alone in the darkest corners of Baldur's Gate. “...I didn’t do it for you.”

He searches your face for something, his eyes narrowing. He's waiting for you to continue, but there's no more fuel in the tank, and now you just want to sleep for a very long time. You assume he comes up empty when the corners of his lips fall, and he turns to climb up the stairs. Sunlight hits your back as your eyes trail him in his steps, and it does nothing to warm how cold it feels in the room.

“That much I’m aware,” he stops his steps for a brief moment. You barely catch it, but it's there. “Terribly aware.”

And when he finally leaves, you bury your face into your hands.

"I'm nervous."

"What for?"

"What if the ascension goes wrong? Are you sure we should really be doing this, Astarion?"

He brushes your hair out of your face, cupping both your cheeks in his hands. "We'll be okay, my love. I will still be here, and so will you. I'll just finally have enough power to protect what I care about."

He sees the hesitance in your eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You melt into his touch, placing your hands atop his.

"So please, stand beside me for this," he pleads.

And despite the way your intuition screams at you otherwise, despite the way your very being begs you to pull away, you nod, sealing your fate.

"I'll be right here."

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[sordidmusings]

WIP TUESDAY - Sugar Daddy Headcanons with Shanks and Garp

Saw Schoute's wonderful art WIP and writing and wanted to join the fun! Have some ridiculous Blorbos as Sugar Daddies headcanons that have been on my backburner LOL I've got Shanks and Garp ready for y'all 🫡 They're pretty much done, I moreso have to fill out everyone else on the list 🤡 No warnings really! Just some allusions to spice but nothing explicit. Lots of silliness. I believe they're gender neutral but I'm going to tag as afab just in case because I fear it may be in the subtext since that's the perspective I wrote it from and the one people generally expect for sugar babies. Might be fun to subvert sometime by writing them with explicitly amab sugar babies. I will Ponder lol I'd also love to see what everyone is working on so please take this as a sign to post something of your own!!

The song I blame for everything (I love u Thot Squad):

“This fine old man, he played three

He can knickknack this coochie

With an Amex black card, get a girl a Benz

Reset and do it again”

Word Count: Shanks ~750, Garp ~400 (sorry about the favoritism Vice Admiral 😬)

Shanks

shanks absolutely pursued this type of relationship with you

Your pretty face and open smile snagged his attention but the way you easily met and fed his energy had him at you like a dog with a bone

He’s no stranger to helping people laugh their way into his bed, but the journey with you felt different. He took extra time simply because each moment with you was too good to keep from savoring

You didn’t hide your attraction at any point but he did appreciate that you would try and prod back at him in good humor to test his will and want

You found he had both in excessive abundance

It felt nice to have someone so attractive, established, feared, and adored seek your company and watch him become more interested with each minute he got of you. It also felt nice to see that while he certainly had an abundance of confidence he held no arrogance with you - he played no games in making you question his interest or to assert his importance to you. He treated you as a person (one he mainly wanted to turn to his bedroom tenant but still-) and it made him feel more like a man than a myth for you both too

And holy hell did you like that man - he made you laugh even if at his own expense, he impressed you when he’d let some of his cunning slip through the jovial pirate shtick, he kept your interest with how he could entertain any topic you brought forward, he made you feel beautiful with the way his eyes and hands soaked you in, and he made you feel wanted with the way he treated everything about you with genuine interest. 

The only thing that made it better is how he made sure you wanted for nothing. The first night it was making sure you didn’t pay a cent for anything, you always had food and drink right before you realized you wanted it, his coat found your shoulders the moment you felt a chill, you found yourself in fresh air right when the heat and the noise of the bar became too much. 

After that it was an endless stream of trinkets, from priceless to silly but sentimental, all coming with letters that had you laughing, blushing, and swooning.

Every time he’d visit you (and it was at first as often as he thought he could manage but that managed to get even sooner and sooner because of his need for you) you’d indulge in each other like it was the first and last time

He stopped wanting anyone else - there were enough people across the seas he had to apologize to after explaining why he’d gasped the wrong name and they were never right to scratch the new insatiable itch he had anyway

When it dawned on him how much you had him wrapped around your finger, not just physically and financially but also mentally, emotionally, and he’s pretty sure even spiritually, he may have had a crisis (the crew was very torn between amusement and true wory watching it unfold, especially when the usual rum and patented Beckman Shoulder Pat with Nod didn't ease his turmoil)

It wasn't because he didn’t want to love you, but he truly never thought he’d ever find someone he wanted and needed the way he does you. It was such a foreign concept to him that he felt like the world had tilted and left everything slightly unfamiliar. Especially coming from a relationship he stapled together with riches. Sure, there was also joy, camaraderie, and intimacy holding it together, but he found it harder to trust that someone such as you wouldn't find someone younger and more present to belong to than to trust that you could need him to sustain a lifestyle of ease and abundance.

If he couldn't be sure you'd want him, he'd try and find solace in you needing him, even if it was only for what he could afford you

When he finally told Beckman of his plight, he was slightly offended by the “it took you this long to figure it out?”

He’s currently trying to figure out how to convince you to live on his ship with him. He needed to let you know you’d be safe regardless of your experience level with the seas or battle. 

He’d bring the world to its knees if anything touched a hair on your head

Luckily for him, you knew. Anyone with eyes would from the way he smiles at you.

Garp

Garp was decidedly not in your plans. Yes, you wanted someone older, someone with wealth, someone with influence, someone who would take care of you, but you thought Gilfs were an urban legend told to see what face it would get out of freshies

You’re not complaining tho

He has certainly convinced you that the rarity of his kind just pointed to what a prized role it was to shack up with one

He was rough around the edges to be sure - brash and loud and stubborn - but he used all those traits to get you both exactly what you wanted

All your needs were met without you having to even think of them anymore (you were surprised that needs in the bedroom were included in that, but you supposed you shouldn’t have underestimated a man who could still punch apart battle ships, nor one with such a lust for eating)

Neither of you had any illusions of sweeping romance

You were more than happy with the care and respect that built between the two of you in your roles, growing with each act of service to each other, each piece of comfort, each unintended moment of vulnerability

Don’t get me wrong, the vulnerability ain’t common; most of your time is this man having fun watching you light up when he took you out and tossed his money around for you before taking you home to have multiple courses of dessert

You’ll never get over his gruff voice and curling accent - they helped your brain turn to mush while he coaxed and praised you through happily giving him everything he wants as a thank you for all his care

That voice along with all that burliness and age, which you thought would’ve been a turn off not on, ended up making you feel small yet so protected

Garp didn’t think he’d enter a relationship like this that went on so long and so easily but any reservation or second guessing was lost the moment he saw you and everything just felt natural

Tho he’d still make jokes that always make you groan about how you keep him young better than his troublesome recruits (that he is stuck between wanting to parade you around to see their jaws drop and wanting to keep you hidden away from any young bucks who may try to get your attention before he’s ready to let you go)

Thank you for reading ���🤍🤍

Masterlist

[dronebiscuitbat]

Hi! I have something new to show you guys.

Oil is Thicker Then Blood is my baby, and it's not ending. There's still more I wanna write and explore.

However, I haven't tried my hand at a human AU yet, and I wanted to, it's gonna be a side work, so probably not updated as often, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless. Since I had fun writing the first chapter! (Is rated as Mature! So nothings being held back here. It's pretty adult and pretty dark.)

Give me a Reason: Chapter 1- "Uzi Doorman"

Pale morning light bounced off blackout curtains not quite pulled tight enough to keep it at bay, the small tendrils of light broke through, drawing shapes of light on a deep purple blanket, bunched and tousled by a fitful sleep. A small body lay halfway off the bed, fair skin exposed to the bedroom air, eyes screwed shut and drool pooling out of their open mouth, a frame of violently purple hair rested of their head, the natural black only showing through at it's roots.

A soft snoring was the only sound in the dimly lit room, stuffed full of band merch, anime posters, and a touch of macabre, a fake human skull on their desk, a dreamcatcher in the shape of a pentagram hung on the wall, and purple L.E.Ds were spread like a vine growth, draped over everything, painting everything in a soft violet glow.

There were clothes and papers littered all over the carpeted floor, far more then could be accumulated in just one night of neglect, instead being a sign of something more chronic, the snoring continued, filling the space

Then, in an eruption of noise, the phone lying next to the mattress rung out it's morning tune, an 8 bit rendition of an anime opening that while may have been fun to listen to at some point, it's use as an alarm had made it's charm rapidly shift to hatred.

The body jolted awake, muscles all tensing at once as a very loud grunt escaped their mouth, they stretched and fumbled their way to grab the phone, missing several times before bringing it close to their face and quickly silencing the alarm.

“Uuuuuuggggghhhh.” A disgruntled cry left their mouth, and moth their arms ended up above thier head as the gazed at the ceiling in retrospection, wearing a black pair of boyshorts and a tee with a faded, nondescript band printed on the front. They looked at their phone, eyes a deep magenta as they squinted, looking at the time.

It was 6:30 in the morning, too early, in this person's opinion as they rolled their eyes before rolling over entirely before facing the black, grey wall.

“Uzi! Get up! You have school!” A voice called from behind her bedroom door, Uzi sighed deeply, nibbling on her lip as she tried to find the energy to get up and get ready.

She found it difficult to find, forcing her brain to send the correct signal to her arms and legs was like trying to pull teeth, but eventually, after much forcefull squirming she finally managed to sit up, her joints groaning in a way that shouldn't be normal for someone who's only 19.

She stood, groggy and irritated though what else was new. At a resounding 4,8. She yawned, scratching her head and only made her already impressive bed head look like a tangle of briars.

“I'm up!” She yelled through her door, voice montone despite her volume, while she heard no response, she seemed satisfied she'd been heard, and stepped over the mess on the floor to her closet, where she quickly picked out shorts, a purple tank top, and a hoodie made by one of her favorite bands “Dead Batteries.”

She was lucky to have a bathroom connected to her bedroom, so she made her way to it, stepping over more junk to take a shower for the first time in like 3 days, she hadn't been stopped by anything, not really, it had just been not worth the effort when she had nowhere to be.

She washed herself and her hair, causing just a little bit of the dye to come out in her hands, staining them pink, she rolled her eyes, oh well, she wasn't going to be making a good impression anyway, everyone already knew who she was.

She got dressed, throwing on her purple socks, boots, and beanie before walking out into the combined kitchen and living room of her house, her father, Khan, a bald man with a mustache, steely grey eyes, and age lines on his face was making breakfast, eggs, bacon, with a side of toast.

“Good morning! I made breakfast!” His voice was naturally deep, but right now it was loud and booming and immediately made Uzi wince at it's intensity.

“Thanks.” She offered quietly, sitting down and eating absent-mindedly as she looked over a the television they had mounted on the wall in the kitchen, it was turned to the news, and Uzi had to surpress another eye roll.

More Prostests at the JCJenson head office today, the popular technology company facing heated backlash after it announced a campaign to delve more into their recent exploration into artificial intelligence, despite the recent controversy after a government sting operation found human brain scans within thier internal documents.

“Dad, please watch something other then the news. It's nothing but rage-bait.” She hummed with egg still in her mouth, Khan didn't seem to pay any mind to his daughter however, as he was too focused on the television.

“Don't talk with your mouth fill honey.” Was all he said, and Uzi closed her mouth, breaking her eyes from the screen onto a new one, her phone, where she scrolled through pictures her classmates had posted over the summer.

Her eyes landed on a picture of Lizzy, self-proclaimed “Queen of Mean.” Of Copper High, though Uzi had to agree, the girl was always doing her best to make Uzi's life a living hell, this picture only continued that. Lizzy was pretty, gorgeous even, with her immaculate blonde hair and strangely florescent pink eyes, she was skinny, yet muscular from being on the cheer team. And the two peice pink bikini showed off her figure even more.

Uzi would think she was hot, if she wasn't such a bitch.

She only half finished her breakfast, scraping the rest of it into the cats, Salem's, bowl, who purred and danced around her legs in thanks, Uzi scratched the black cat's head, before finding her backpack by the door and slipping it on, it was faded, and while it used to have two cute little bat wings they'd since been torn off, leaving two little black scars where the wings should have been running down the face of it. It was whatever, it was just a backpack.

“I'm headed to school!”

Khan was still too busy looking at the TV, but Uzi left anyway, sighing to herself as she put black earbuds in her ears to listen to nightcore as she walked to school.

Her pace was slow, she was in truly no rush to get to her destination anytime soon, or really, at all, if she could get away with it, she'd simply ditch and then buy some mushrooms off Sam, her kinda freind/dealer. But she couldn't, not now. There was a reason she was still in high school at 19, that being one of them.

So she grit her teeth and bared it, stopping to stare at the school building, being a classic, flat roofed high-school made of red brick and tears before heading inside.

She wasn't late, couldn't be late. With her guidance counselor breathing liquor fumes down her neck about her attendance and very thin ice she was on with the rest of the schoolboard, so she at least attempted the bare minimum of being on time, and actually showing up.

She only had one more year of this anyway. Though west she planned to do after was up for debate. Probably somewhere between homeless and prison if what the police told her dad was true. Which it was.

She knew her homeroom, it was the same as last year, but her saving grace was that Lizzy and her best friend Doll wouldn't be here this year, as they had already graduated. So no more getting shoved into lockers and being blamed for shit she didn't do.

She did plenty already to get her in trouble, she didn’t need help, thank you.

She expertly weaved her way between the tall, sweaty high schoolers and walked onto her homeroom, Mr. Brown was sitting at his desk, looking over his itty bitty glasses to read the newspaper.

Who the fuck read newspapers in the year 2024? This dumbass man, apparently.

“Uzi. Didn't expect to see you again this year.” He said before she had a chance to sit down somewhere, she looked at him blanky.

“Bite me Mr. Brown, you know damn well why I'm here.” She snapped back, knowing that he knew why she was back, it had been him that had caught her high in class, and him that decided to call the on campus police on her, and got her suspended, and was the one that got her held back a year.

Granted, she was the one high, but if you thought she was going to take credit for her own behavior then you haven't been paying attention very well, now have you?

“And with that attitude, you'll likely be back next year.” He still didn't feel the need to look at her, taking a sip of his coffee instead, she felt a feral hiss claw its way out of her throat, but chose to just sit down, though she slammed her backpack down a little hard.

The room steadily filled in with students, a few she recognized from the year below her last year, a few more she didn't, most didn't pay her any mind which she preferred over the other options, the attention she got was usually negative.

A very tall figure caught her attention, someone she really didn't recognize, because she would have definitely remembered them. They were male presenting, had a shock of decently long platinum blond hair that went down to his shoulders. His eyes were amber, though so bright they were almost golden, and honestly, he looked like he was about to hurl.

His hands tapped together in what was obvious to Uzi as some type of self-regulatory behavior, and he looked to be trembling with anxiety, eyes scanning over the mostly filled room. They made eye contact.

A wide, sunny smile broke onto his face, she felt as though she was almost flashbanged by it, she blinked before she turned away from him, she really hoped that he wasn't in her class and was just lost, because she had a feeling she'd have to find some way to ditch this kid if he did.

“Nathaniel, go sit down, you're in the right class.” Mr. Brown spoke up, and Uzi quickly looked around at the empty seats, only to realize the only two were near her, the one in front, and directly beside her.

Fuck.

He found the seat next to her, making her curse a few more times internally, he looked around again, either trying to see if he knew anybody or maybe catch anyone else's eyes to speak to.

Before he turned back to her with another massive ass smile.

Double Fuck.

“Hi, I'm Nathaniel, but you can just call me N.” His voice was just as bright as his smile and Uzi kinda just wanted to keel over and die rather then interact with him, Jesus, he was like a walking sunbeam.

“Uh, Uzi.” She replied in a noncommittal fashion, though the one letter nickname intrigued her just a little bit, it reminded her of anime.

“Oh, like the submachine gun?” He cocked his head curiously, still smiling, Uzi didn't even really want to look at him, but she was appreciative that he knew that. Her mom had been really into guns, what can she say?

“Yeah.” She replied simply, giving him nothing to work with in terms of more conversation, not her fault, she hated small talk and eye contact, both of which he was trying to initiate.

“Oh, um sorry, I just recently moved here, I don't know anyone, I can stop talking if you want.” He suddenly turned sheepish, and he was doing the tapping thing with his hands again, Uzi almost winced, as much as she didn't exactly want to talk to him, he suddenly looked too much like a kicked puppy, and it was wearing on what little empathy she had left.

“Nah, I just don't talk much… you can keep talking.” She offered, she could at least do that right? Let him talk without the expectation of her responding? Yeah, that was fine, he was probably in just her homeroom anyway, and once he met some more people, he wouldn't talk to her anymore.

“Oh! Uh okay!” He glanced around again, before focusing back on her.

“I like your piercings! They look cool!” Uzi looked surprised for a moment, she didn't remember putting in piercings this morning, but she felt her ears and sure enough the two black studs and the small gauge were there. Oh right, she hadn't bothered taking them out.

“Thank you?” She really didn't know how to respond to that, she never really got compliments ever, especially not about her piercings, most people just told her they looked “unbecoming.” or “god awful.”

“You're welcome!”

“Morning class.” Mr. Brown began, standing up and addressing his class from the front of the room, N immediately turned his attention to him, making Uzi have a sigh of relief internally.

“I'll be passing out your schedules, make sure you read it and memorize it, most of you already know the layout of the school, so there's no excuse to be late to your classes.” He was always monotone, which was unfortunate because he normally taught history, making an already boring subject even more boring.

Uzi picked up her phone again, putting one of her earbuds in, on the side opposite to the one N was on, so he could still talk if he wanted, and began a scroll through Tumblr, there wasn't really anything new, but it was something to do with her hands, so that was something.

“Hey, uh… wanna see if we have any classes together?” N was turned towards her again, holding his schedule in front of him and again looking a little nervous.

Uzi groaned, not out loud, but internally, she wasn't creeped out, she knew what guys were like when they were being creepy, and this wasn't it, but he was being so friendly, it was putting her off, people weren't this friendly, not for no reason. She just couldn't understand what his was yet.

Next ->

[tenebraevesper]

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 1)

Welcome to the first part of my personal elaboration on the topic of why ''Prime!Shadow is peak Shadow!'', or in other words, why Prime!Shadow is one of the best written iterations of Shadow's character.

Will I try to make proper arguments for his character writing? Of course. Will I also be biased as hell just because he's my favorite character? Absolutely!

So, if you can handle both of that, we should dive in!

Before I start, I suppose I should give a brief overview of Shadow's character and how he had been handled through the years. The general consensus seems to be that Shadow was at his peak as a character from Sonic Adventure 2 to Sonic the Hedgehog (2006) (as well as Pre-Reboot!Archie Comics during Ian Flynn's run), being someone who was deeply traumatized by the death of his sister Maria Robotnik, had his memories manipulated to get revenge on humanity, only to sacrifice his own life to save the world Maria cherished, losing his memories in the process and trying to carve out his own path, only to finally solidify his role as a protector of the world, even if his methods aren't always the most peaceful ones.

So, where does the idea of edgelord Shadow come from?

Yeaaahh... let's just say that Shadow's own game, Shadow the Hedgehog (2005), didn't do him any good in the character department, because it seems that all that people remember was that one time SEGA decided to give Shadow a gun and let him deal with an alien invasion. The confusing story routes didn't help either.

In time, Shadow's character went from a complex and layered character to something akin to Vegeta (no offense Dragon Ball fans!), much to the disappointment of everyone who understood character before he underwent this transformation. Also, I'm not counting Boom!Shadow in this because Sonic Boom is a different universe and its own thing, but I won't argue against the fact that Boom!Shadow's characterization as a complete jerkass didn't do Game!Shadow any favor either. That's not even mentioning the Sonic IDW Comics, where Shadow had many mandates tied to him that even the writers found it annoying to write him (although with the most recent arc where Shadow was shown, it seems that the mandates have loosened a little).

Of course, I might be missing out on some information, but this is the general gist of the history of his character. So, when Sonic Prime revealed that Shadow would be one of the major characters, you can bet that I was nervous about how he would be written and I decided to keep a close eye on his characterization; and honestly, I went from genuinely pleased to excited when I realized that Shadow was being written as a very compelling character. Not only that, but he also appeared to have gone through subtle character development over the course of the show.

Starting from the very beginning, I'm certain that you remember how Shadow's first appearance was basically him punching Sonic at the end of Episode 01: Shattered, a very impactful first impression that left us with more questions and headaches. The following episode, Episode 02: The Yoke's On You, gives us more details in regards to why he punched Sonic, seemingly out of the blue.

Shadow's proper introduction kicks off with him searching for the Chaos Emerald... and I have to ask, when was the last time we even saw Shadow genuinely smile? Was in the Mario & Sonic at The Olympic Games franchise? I don't really remember.

In any case, being clearly happy about finding the Chaos Emerald, he speeds off, only to suddenly sense that something is wrong and is met with a giant blue pulse of energy (released during Sonic's fight with Dr. Eggman) and a vision of Sonic using the Paradox Prism energy.

''Sonic!''

This expression just screams ''Something bad is going to happen and it's Sonic's fault! I'm going to kick his ass before he does anything stupid!''

We then follow Shadow as he searches for Sonic, clocking him square in the face for something he hasn't done yet. Eh, I'd say that this one wasn't really deserved.

Even before Sonic starts explaining his relationship with Shadow, we immediately get an understanding of Shadow's character. He is serious, works alone, quite fast and powerful, prefers to fight over talking things out, is willing to do anything to protect his home and clearly has a history with Sonic. Sonic proceeds to add how Shadow is his biggest rival, a buzzkill and that he totally roller-skates.

''They're air shoes!''

Did... Did Shadow just break the 4th wall? Did he just make a joke? Dude, not even Boom!Shadow got to do that and Sonic Boom was the epitome of wall breaking!

Yeah, let's just say that my jaw dropped when I heard this, realizing that Shadow's character in Sonic Prime will be different than what we got used to see.

So, after knocking the Rings out of Sonic (I mean that literally), Shadow questions him about what he has done, with Sonic pointing out how Eggman is the bad guy, clearly confused about why Shadow is attacking him.

''You literally shook the world!'' ''That's because I'm good! And powerful apparently! Jealous?''

After a bit of teasing from Sonic, he and Shadow get into a race, during which I had noticed something. While Sonic keeps teasing Shadow (and also having fun fighting him), Shadow tells him to stop and listen for once.

''Clearly you're angry, which is normal,... but I'm supposed to be on a bit of a mission here, Shadow!'' ''What mission?'' ''None of your business.''

Sooooo, have you noticed it too? Because there is something very telling in this interaction. If you haven't, I'll let it play out until the end. Anyways, to continue, Shadow knocks Sonic into a rock, with Sonic confirming another aspect of their relationship.

''Ughh, I know, we're fighting again. Don't worry guys, I'll calm him down.''

We now know that this certainly wasn't the first time they had a fight and it won't be the last time. Sonic points out that, whatever beef they have, they aren't going to settle it this way. While Sonic is right, I will admit, I had to gush over the excellent animation and fight choreography. X3

Sonic then hears an explosion from the cave where the Paradox Prism is and tells Shadow that he needs to get to his friends, only to get punched for his troubles.

''Learn to focus!''

Now that the flashback is over, what exactly is going on between the two?

First of all, the main thing I have noticed is that both Shadow and Sonic seriously have a problem with communication. Shadow knows Sonic is about to do something stupid, and from his actions (aka choosing violence over talking) he is trying to prevent Sonic from doing whatever he was about to do. It does paint Shadow as a bit of a jerk, but Sonic isn't completely innocent here either.

An observation I had made was that Shadow probably knows that if he tried to just talk to Sonic, Sonic would either blow him off and run away or just tease him back, which was confirmed when Shadow asks him on what kind of mission he is with Sonic responding that it's none of his business. I imagine that there were previous events where Sonic was doing something stupid and Shadow tried to stop him from making things worse, and that violence was indeed the answer to Sonic's antics.

If Sonic had explained to Shadow what the deal is, I'm certain that Shadow would help him out. Perhaps Shadow could've told him about his vision, but going by Sonic's behavior, Sonic would probably not listen to him.

This brings me to my second point - this moment establishes that, if there will be character development for Shadow, it will be mainly through his interactions with Sonic and them learning to work together and listen to each other, something I'm really excited to talk about in later episodes.

The flashback continues in Episode 03: Escape From New Yoke, where Sonic does the old ''Hey, look behind you!'' trick and Shadow falls for it, hook, line and sinker. Sonic knocks him into a wall and speeds off to where his friends are fighting Eggman, leaving Shadow to recover and follow him.

I do like how Shadow just shakes his head here. Even if he doesn't say much, you can clearly see what it is going through his mind. He's angry at Sonic, but acknowledges that this is just typical for his blue rival.

in Episode 07: It Takes One to No Place, we see that Shadow manages to reach the Paradox Prism cave, just as Sonic is about to shatter it.

''Chaos Control!''

Unlike Sonic's friends and Dr. Eggman, Shadow manages to use Chaos Control, preventing him from being shattered just like the others.

''Sonic!''

Instead, he finds himself floating in The Void. I'll leave what happened to him in The Void for the next part, but what is important to note is that he cannot enter the individual Shatterspaces, but he can communicate with Sonic every time the latter gains enough speed to use the Paradox Prism Energy.

''Sonic, it's broken! It's all broken!''

Sonic is at first freaked out, thinking he's just hallucinating. I suppose that explains why Sonic keeps ignoring him in any subsequent appearances, despite Shadow trying his best to contact him and trying to explain him what to do, like telling him how he's lost in The Void and for Sonic to keep moving and to not stop (which also leads Sonic to find out how he can travel between Shatterspaces).

I suppose this can also be interpreted as ''Sonic leaves Shadow on read''. X3

Once Sonic accidentally gets out of No Place in Episode 08: There Is No Arrgh In Team, he is confronted by Shadow, who is absolutely furious. Not that Sonic notices, given how he had a really rough day himself.

''Shadow? Ugh, I don't have time to deal with whoever you are. I just wanna go home.''

''Home? Home doesn't exist anymore BECAUSE OF YOU!''

Considering what Sonic had done, yeah, this punch was definitely deserved.

As I said above, the first eight episodes are here to establish Shadow's character, his relationship/rivalry with Sonic and his own flaws (mainly the lack of communication on his part, choosing to fight Sonic instead) and it is clear that in order to overcome those flaws, he will have to work with Sonic (calm down Sonadow shippers, we didn't get there yet), something I'm excited to explore in the second part of this analysis.

#Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic Prime, Character Analysis - Part 2)

#Sonic the Hedgehog Analyzer (Masterlist)

[ooffmlsorry]

Law comforting you when you're teary from PMS

A/N: another self-indulgent one, folks...and not one of the ones I'm supposed to be writing. You could read this as pretty early on in knowing Law, hence why he's referred to as "Captain Law" several times.

T/w: period talk and mention of cramps/blood, reader has a vagina

During your last bloody run-in with the Marines, you handled things perfectly fine. Actually, and you wouldn't say this to anyone but your reflection, you did stellar. Covering the Heart Pirates' backs with your sniper rifle, ordering your flying fire cat Moremi to evacuate as many of the injured as possible, and calling out threats as you saw them. You kept a cool head despite your and Moremi's injuries, the danger, and the constant pumping of adrenaline in your veins. The crew was impressed, as a new addition you had a lot to prove...especially to Captain Law.

And then there was the drop off. After things settled a little, after you were cocooned within the metal safety of the Polar Tang, your body betrayed you.

Waking up in the middle of the night to a familiar ache in your abdomen, you shoved Morimi's warm, purring mass off of you to shuffle to the bathroom, and sure enough, even in the dim light the bathroom could see the dark stain of blood on your underwear.

Of course.

Horrible timing as usual.

You thought you had another week, which would've been enough time catch up on organizing your reports, cataloging your discoveries properly, and helping Captain Law care for the injured, but you didn't...clearly.

You took care of it and stumbled back to bed, so exhausted you could barely keep your eyes open.

You woke up to your energy completely sapped; your brain and body blanketed with an inescapable shroud of fog. Despite your crewmates waking up around you and getting their day started, your body wasn't moving. Or rather, the part of your brain that could list everything you wanted to do today, everything you expected yourself to do today, was a tiny whisper compared to the heaviness of your eyelids and limbs.

"I'm just so tired," you said into Miremo's fur, curling into her further. She was like your own personal heating pad.

It was infuriating. Just days ago you were bandaging wounds cheerfully, despite your grim situation and collecting stories from the islanders. And now...it felt like there was nothing in the world that could make you move.

Much later than everyone else you eventually made your way to kitchen to eat something before your cramps got worse again. Your breakfast, which forced a pitiful laugh out of you, were the quickest snacks you could grab and a glass of milk. The thought of eating in the kitchen crossed your mind and was quickly swallowed by the haze floating around your skull. You didn't realize the thought had occurred until you were already in bed with Moremi again. Was your brain really that far gone?

Now couldn't be a worse time, except maybe during the battle, but still! There was still so much left to do and you were in bed! Doing nothing except eating breakfast! Even your own slow, lazy chewing was getting on your nerves. The sounds of the crew going on with their duties outside the door only made everything worse.

Weak. You're so weak.

Tears started to sting your nose and eyes.

"Great," you sniffles. "So I'm just going to sit here and cry."

Not that you had much against crying, but there was still so much more to do. So much you could be helping your new crew with. So much you could be doing to safeguard all the new tales and knowledge you had gathered.

Moremi twitched as tears sizzled and steamed on her fur. She shifted on top of you to nuzzle your arm with her nose but otherwise didn't move much.

Just then, the door opened, and none other than your captain Trafalgar Law entered. His eyes found you immediately, a scowl formed on his lips.

"Y/N-ya, you're still in bed. Your injuries weren't that severe. Did something happen?"

Exactly. He's right. Get up.

"No," you wipe your tears away. "Just being lazy, I'll get up, captain." Moremi growls a little at being shoved off. You know she's more upset that you're getting up when you shouldn't than at being moved.

Law stops you. "If you're ill please stay in bed. I'll tell the others to keep away from you."

You almost wish that was the case. Your cramps weren't even that bad, you were just exhausted....exhausted like everyone else probably was.

"No, I'm not. I'm just exhausted."

The last thing you expected was for Law to sit down on your bed next to Moremi and grab your face. His hand was gentle but cold and smelled like some kind of medical cleanser. He lifted your chin to observe you, looking for something.

"Open your mouth."

You do so almost without thought.

He continued to examine you. "I don't have lazy crewmembers," he said.

Even with your captain's words, you didn't feel the urge to get up, which only made you despair further.

Tears started to sting your eyes again. With Law squeezing your face a little, they rolled down your cheeks immediately. "I know...I'm sorry, captain."

Law's eyes widened in shock and he let go as if burned. "Y/N-ya." Law sits awkwardly, clearly at a lost for words. "I...I didn't mean to scare you, if that's what it is."

The tears take you over completely. "No, I'm just so tired." You sobbed. "And there's so much to do, but I can't. I can't even think straight. I stand up and my body hurts and I can't fight it anymore. I don't have it in me. I'm just so, so tired. I'm sorry I can't do anything." You sobbed into your hands, covering your face and cried.

A long silence followed, so long you thought Law had left, and then, the weight of his hand on your shoulder pulled your face from your hands.

"You did well in our fight, you need to rest." He spoke matter-of-factly but tenderly. You had never heard him speak so carefully to anyone.

"But you're--"

"We're different people," he said. "If you tried to help now, you'd accomplish nothing. I think we both know that."

Your eyes already felt heavy. At some point you had started to lean as if falling over. You began to doze in front of Law but you saw no judgment in his eyes, just a softness that released the knot of restless guilt in your stomach.

"I told you, I don't have lazy crewmembers. That includes you." Law slowly guided you into laying down and pulled the covers around you with surprising kindness.

"I'll have Ikkaku bring you something real to eat when you wake up. Just rest until you feel better. We can handle ourselves."

You didn't realize Law lingered watching you sleep soundly for a moment before turning the lights off in the cabin with a small smile.

[fromthedragonsdesk]

On Visual Novels and Catharsis

I never had a high opinion of Visual Novels. In my mind, they always seemed to boil down to the most basic wish fulfillment tripe that we'd collectively assign to the isekai genre these days, I'd wager. To me it was a waste of time or energy trying to interact with them (as an aside, I'm well aware that the Phoenix Wright series is arguably a visual novel, but I missed that boat by not having DS-era device). Even today, with a glance over most of games tagged 'visual novel' on Steam, you'll see what could be generously described as fetish pornography. So, seeing all this, I reinforced my belief that visual novels were for people who wanted some plot with their porn, and never thought much of it.

To my surprise, Steam insisted on recommending visual novels to me. I usually just tossed them aside from the recommendation queue, until I got two recommended almost back-to-back: Mice Tea and Changeling Tale.

Mice Tea had generally positive reviews, and many of them cited that the game's writing and characterization were generally humorous and appealing. So, given that it was on sale during the Steam Winter Sale, I figured it was worth a shot. Then, after basically binging on the game for 20 hours, I walked away thinking that I might have misjudged the genre on some levels.

I wouldn't say I was entirely surprised by Mice Tea - the reviews did it justice in terms of you, as the reader, wanting to root for the main cast to succeed. Most of the conflict didn't necessarily arise from an outside force, but rather internalized conflicts and the struggle to essentially be honest with yourself and those around you, risking vulnerability, essentially. At its core, I still felt like it was wish fulfillment to a significant degree, but the implausibilities were generally smoothed over enough to allow for suspension of disbelief to ride along with the story. And yeah, there... was a fair amount of catering to various fetishes and such worked in, but all in a fairly world-consistent sort-of perspective? At its core, the story was light, cheerful with moments of self-reflection and introspection, and wrapped up in a generally nice bow all in the end.

But what Mice Tea ended up doing for me, personally, was allowing me to lower my defenses during a particularly stressful point in my life, staying present in my mind when I then read over the reviews and such for Changeling Tale. I brushed off the emotion reviews, thinking that they were likely being dramatic.

I could not have been more wrong.

While set in a backdrop of old Scottish fantasy, I continually found myself impressed at how grounded Changeling Tale managed to make itself felt. I believe this is because the main character / player character of Changeling Tale (hereafter referred to as "Malcolm") is primarily reacting to the supernatural events occurring around him, rather than necessarily driving them by his own volition. Malcolm is thrust into a world that he already feels disconnected from due to his service in the military, and it cracks further open as fae magic begins seeping into the world around him.

That said, no one in the backwater town in which Malcolm has returned to handles the public appearance of fae magic particularly well, much less the three parallel storylines available to the reader between Jessie, Marion, and Grace. If anything, the most unreasonable reactions come from the player themselves, in how flippant or otherwise easygoing they handle changes happening to the people around them. That said, many decisions have a snowballing / weighted effect that can change plot directions far later on than one might expect, leading to fallings-out with friends and family, or worse.

But then something strange happened to me, as a reader, while working my way through these split storylines. Core messages seemed to stick out to me, interwoven among the stories. But they cut me straight to the core as a person; after finishing all 3 major storylines I was left shaking and bleary-eyed, wishing events could have turned out differently, desperately trying to reject the messages that had been suggested despite knowing deep-down that they were right.

"Be the best you that you can be."

"Encourage people to chase their dreams, but make sure you're pursuing your dream too."

"Sometimes peoples' dreams are irreconcilable with one another. That doesn't mean the love is gone, it just means that it isn't fair to either person."

"The size of the dream does not diminish its value; the holder of the dream determines its value."

(I intentionally omitted the storyline associations I would make)

When I held all of these thoughts together, an emotional dam burst in my heart. For years I never considered myself as having dreams or goals. For years I felt kind of confused and wondering if what I was doing mattered, or had worth. But somehow, a visual novel about fae shenanigans that dances alongside a transformation kink broadsides me with the realization that I AM where I want to be, doing what I am doing. I have a family who l love and loves me back. I am not pursuing a dream; rather, I am cultivating and maintaining a dream I have already attained. I am doing what is important to me and my family, and even if I'm not changing the world around me and leaving a name in the history books, I know that I am here and directly affecting the lives of those around me, and I'm not sure what more I could want for at this very moment.

And for the first time in quite a while, I feel content and satisfied.

[nachosncheezies]

Mulder, Scully, and "sibling vibes"

So a few times lately I've remarked on the sibling energy I see in early Mulder & Scully, and I think perhaps it's misunderstood. I jokingly self-identified not long ago as "not a romo, not a noromo, but a secret third thing (delighted they ended up together but wishes the whole kiss kiss kiiiiiss! thing wasn't dominant forever and always)" This applies to all my fandoms fwiw. For me the friendships generally trump everything.

The other day I added this (among some other rambling) to one of @randomfoggytiger's excellent posts about Mulder and women:

To me, these two start out as best friends, almost a "sibling" relationship at first: Mulder has been looking for Samantha, "walking into that room" everyday for many more years of his life than he wasn't, and here comes this precocious, punchy little woman who says she's looking forward to being around him. She plays with him in the rain, she laughs at him, teases him and calls him "sucker", she listens to him and is eager to learn everything he can teach her. They squabble, but always stick together. She stands next to him with her little foot stuck stubbornly out to the side and her arms folded, or her little hands on her little hips, always exuding an attitude that's surprisingly large for her little body. When he looks at her it's at the top of her head. She's even the same age as Samantha. When she panics or gets scared she turns to him, and he wraps her in a blanket and tells her stories. I know it is often interpreted as flirting, but if you were to age them down, it could just as easily be a big brother who adores his little sister and a little sister who thinks her big brother hung the moon. My personal feeling is, it would be almost impossible for him not to notice commonalities between Scully and Samantha. Perhaps that's partly why he's so comfortable sharing Samantha's story with her.

To clarify, I don't think either saw the other as an actual or replacement sibling, and I don't see it as something that is remotely incompatible or icky regardless of where they ended up. Love's a lot of things and it can change and be all of it or none of it at once.

Not a person, but a pattern

Mulder and Scully were thrown together and immediately flung themselves about as far from home as you could get without crossing an ocean, at a time when there was no internet and a long distance phone call cost a million billion dollars (adjusted for inflation)(facetious). This is more than just long hours doing stakeouts or interviewing witnesses or writing profiles or joining sting operations or whatever it is that average partners (especially green-ass newbies from Quantico) might presumably be doing. They might as well have been at sea. They'd known each other for maybe a week and suddenly had to learn to not just work together but to live together, being each other's only company and support system, etc.

Watching the way they interact particularly during the pilot could be (and it seems almost always is) interpreted as crushes and flirting. I see that too, but I'm gonna toss that aside for a sec and ask you to imagine they are children, or at the very least that they're not looking to date (other people have written some very good posts about sex not being that important to them ever, or how they use it for self-flagellation (him) or rebellion (her) etc. And as fun as fanfic is, I agree with that take. For all their smouldering - both individually and together - they're remarkably sexless. But I digress. Just imagine that the search for a date or the possibility of sex is not part of the equation at this stage.)

They're both SO influenced and informed by the patterns they've been living all the way since childhood, as most of us are.

Scully is used to following strong male personalities, living to impress her dad, being a kid sister to a man who has strong opinions about how the world is or ought to be. She's extremely capable but very young for her long list of credentials (she's presumably gone from school to school to school without much lived experience), and they give her her very first field assignment with Fox Mulder. She's heard a lot about him. She's looking forward to working with him. This is probably nothing at all like what she expected when she went to Quantico, but she wants to distinguish herself so she'll go where she's asked and do her Very Best Job at it. But he immediately absconds with her and now she's doing something fun and new, and this man they've assigned her to is quirky and weird and possibly just bat-crap crazy, but in between it all he's incredibly intelligent and he's showing her the ropes and teaching her new things and she's just so excited to be here.

Mulder had to grow up way too fast, aged 12, and maybe suffered a sort of arrested development in that sense. He was once a big brother to a girl who was 8 years old and probably a bit of a brat, as precocious 8 year olds often are (I mean the first time we actually see her she called him a buttmunch and screamed in his face because she didn't get her way). They've sent him a partner who is a remarkable overachiever; she's a biophysicist and medical doctor, a Quantico graduate, and all under age 30. Her credentials include rewriting Einstein and her job responsibilities include "tattle tale". She's gonna challenge him at every turn, but she's green and earnest enough to want his to learn from his experience. She's following him and she's hanging on his every word and she's laughing at and with him. She asks a lot of questions and openly enjoys just being there with him, just being a part of it all.

Age them down 20 years and they could just be two kids playing in the woods and the rain. That doesn't mean they see their siblings in each other, but... to me, it doesn't not mean that either. It's patterns they've carried with them their whole lives. What I'm getting at is that that sort of sibling push-and-pull would be an extremely comfortable and familiar dynamic for them both to slip into, especially considering their isolation, and it's one which also lends itself to quick and easy affection. It's not the predominant feature of their friendship, but it's a starting place, and it ripples forward across time. (Imo it also informs the lack of romance for a number of years.)

The sibling vibes fade into the background after a few episodes (although I see shades of it popping up here and there through at least Darkness Falls), and it transforms into what becomes an easy, fast friendship, and then a deep, ride-or-die best friendship.

Of course, a twisted version of it is brutally resurrected and brought to the fore in season 2, and I think that more than anything is what scuppers a move out of denial or past anything apart from best friends until at least cancer arc, but that's a whole other post.

Thanks for readiiing 💕

[azrielgreen]

remember why you started

it can be so easy to start creating for others and stop doing it for yourself, but that's where it fucks up every time. there has to be a pure vein of creation just for creation's sake, for your own wild and weird indulgence in the things that caught your attention and stoked your passion. when you trade that for external praise, you begin to lose your natural love for the core experience, and it becomes work. you become obsessed with numbers, with interactions, your "place" among others and before you know it, some bullshit hierarchy has formed and all that matters is no one overtaking you, no one doing the things you were doing first because what if they do them better? what if people stop looking at what you're creating? what if you gave everything you had, and everybody leaves anyway?

create for yourself. create for YOU and you alone, in at least one area of your life. not for money, not for attention, not for validation. just one little piece of fertile earth preserved for your weird little universe of exploration and inspiration and delightful failures and unexpected brilliance.

of course it feels wonderful to have people praising your work, to have touched people in some small way, to be SOMEONE, but here's the thing. you already were someone. you were you. and this attention, this validation and praise and interaction... it never lasts. it can't last. everything passes. the only way to truly get people to stay longer than they would, is to give everything you have and more, to break yourself down into pieces and sell them off one by one, become a content machine, or worse, to become a person who steps on others to be taller. someone who polices what others create.

but none of it is real or lasting. tumblr isn't real. twitter isn't real. the cliques aren't real. of a hundred people you know in your fandom experience, three of them might be true friends.

what is real, and what lasts, is what you create.

that's what people will find in ten years time when scrolling AO3 at one AM after a horrible fucking day, if the internet hasn't gone down forever, and that is what touches people. not the things you made purely for validation or comments or popularity. the art you made for you. imagination through the lens of a person whose experiences have shaped them uniquely, beautiful and strange and unknowable to someone else who has not had that same life experience, yet there, available, open and inviting, would you like to feel something new?

so please, when you find yourself dedicating more time to your socials and the construct of your online persona than the actual thing you were creating that first set fire to your passion, think about this. if it won't matter in five years, don't give it more than 5 minutes.

when you find yourself thinking "if i write this, people will really love it and respond to it, it's what's popular right now, everyone's talking about it, this will get me back where i was before" my darling, no it won't. creating for the sole outcome of interaction and praise and attention is a waste of your beautiful energy.

i've made plenty of mistakes, i'm still making them as i go along, but i have never stopped creating for myself and i never will.

people will write the thing better than you, they WILL get more attention, comments, reblogs, impressions, likes, kudos, you'll never hold onto the height of it, because everything changes, everything passes and that's how it should be. passion is river; depriving your interests of momentum and variation will make it a stagnant pond. embrace the new, trust that it will feel good again in new ways and just keep creating what you love, for the one person who needs it most - you.

you make art for yourself first.

that's why you started.

you made the thing you couldn't find anywhere else, your way.

and THAT is what will last.

[mercillery]

Could you write about Ryuya Ryudo? I'm in love with this man (relationship overview?)

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROPFREAD

NOTES: RYUYA RYODAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THE MAN YOU ARE

Ryuya Ryudo, as the calm and composed ruler of the Land of the Sun, brings all that zen energy straight into his relationship. Think of this: you’ve had a stressful day, maybe everything’s gone wrong, but Ryuya’s just there—chill, unbothered, and ready to help you find your inner peace again. He’s like a walking stress-relief app but, you know, way better because he actually listens. He’d make sure you feel secure and supported in every way possible, both emotionally and physically. It’s like having your own personal security blanket, but with muscles and a great sense of responsibility.

His sense of duty doesn’t stop at the gates of his country—it extends right into his love life. He’s the type of guy who’s always making sure you know your worth. You’ll never go to bed wondering, "Do they even care about me?" because Ryuya’s got it covered. He’s the kind of partner who will hype you up like it’s his full-time job. If you’ve got a wild dream, like becoming the world’s greatest kazoo player or starting a cupcake empire, Ryuya is your biggest cheerleader. “You’ve got this,” he’ll say, without a hint of doubt, even if the odds are wild. He believes in you so much that eventually, you start to believe it too.

Now, Ryuya’s no dictator in the relationship. He’s not here to control or micromanage your every move. His leadership style? All about compassion, understanding, and knowing when to step back. You’ll never catch him mansplaining or talking down to you. Need advice? He’s got you, but he’s not shoving it down your throat. His wisdom is more like gentle nudges in the right direction, not a GPS barking orders at you. He trusts you to figure things out and make your own decisions, and he respects your independence. Honestly, he’s just there to give you that occasional “Hey, you’re doing great” and to make sure you’re never feeling small.

He’s basically always got your back without hovering like a helicopter. He’s supportive without being overbearing, strong without being controlling, and calm without being indifferent. He’s basically a human embodiment of a supportive leader—steady, reliable, and full of belief in you, even when you’re not sure you believe in yourself. And honestly, what’s better than that?

His Tengentsu basically makes him a human mood detector—he can literally see everything, including your feelings and thoughts, so there’s no hiding that “I’m fine” when you’re very clearly not fine. Even without his magic eye, the guy’s naturally empathetic. It’s like he’s got emotional Wi-Fi and is always connected to your vibe. You could be silently fuming or feeling down, and he’ll pick up on it before you’ve even had a chance to sigh dramatically.

But don’t worry, he’s not the type to be all up in your business like, “Hey, tell me everything right now.” No, he’s way smoother than that. Ryuya’s approach is more like, “I know something’s up, but I’ll wait until you’re ready.” He’s not here to interrogate you; he’s here to be that safe space you can retreat to when you feel like opening up. It’s like having your own personal zen garden, but one that talks and makes tea.

He’s not one to get all worked up. You could be having a full-on meltdown, and Ryuya will be there, calm as ever, like, “Okay, let’s take a deep breath.” It’s honestly kind of impressive—his chill is unshakable. His presence is like that perfectly timed deep breath you didn’t know you needed. When you’re around him, you just know everything’s going to be okay. Whether you need a pep talk, a hug, or just some quiet time together, Ryuya’s got it covered. He knows when to drop a word of encouragement or when to just sit in silence with you—like a human-sized weighted blanket but with cool eye powers.

This guy deals with all kinds of people every day as a leader, so when it comes to emotions, he’s got the grace and patience of a saint! If you’re ever frustrated or overwhelmed, he’s not the type to rush in with that classic “Just calm down” or “It’s not a big deal.” Nope, Ryuya knows that’s not how feelings work. Instead, he’s right there, helping you process things at your own pace. Need to vent for an hour? Cool. Want to cry into a bowl of ice cream? He’s got spoons ready. 🥄🥄 (two for you and him).

He’s fully aware that everyone has their off days, and he’s not about to judge you for it. Feeling insecure? Having a rough time? Ryuya’s the kind of guy who’ll remind you of all your best qualities in the most genuine way possible. He’s got a way of making you feel like you’re hearing it from someone who really believes in you, not like he’s just trying to cheer you up with empty words. It’s like, “Oh, you forgot you’re awesome? Don’t worry, I’ve got a whole list of reasons why you’re amazing right here.” And before you know it, he’s pulling out a comically long list with the title “100 reasons why you’re awesome.”

And when it comes to disagreements, Ryuya’s approach is top-tier. He’s not the type to get defensive or hold grudges—seriously, you’d have to do something really wild to ruffle his feathers. If there’s ever a misunderstanding or mistake, he’ll sit down and talk it through like the calm, collected man he is. You could practically call him your personal therapist—minus the bill. He’s all about hearing your side and explaining his own, and he does it with so much patience that you almost forget you were arguing in the first place—it almost embarrasses you.

Even with the weight of being the Shogun on his shoulders, Ryuya always finds a way to make time for you. You’d think with all those responsibilities he’d be glued to his desk, buried under scrolls or dealing with emergencies left and right. But nope—this guy’s got skills. Even when things are hectic, he’ll slip away for a quick moment with you or send a sweet message through one of his trusted retainers. It’s like he’s got a secret power for squeezing in romance between shogun duties.

And when he’s with you, he’s really with you. No distractions, no rush—just meaningful, quality time. Whether you’re taking a stroll through the countryside, enjoying the peace and quiet, or having a long, deep chat over tea, Ryuya’s fully present. It’s like you’re the only person in the world that matters to him in that moment. He values every second you share, and he’s not about to take any of it for granted. You’ll always feel like his top priority, even when the world is on the brink of chaos.

Speaking of chaos—yeah, even if the world’s about to fall apart because of, let’s say, a certain someone cough cough Lucius, being with Ryuya makes it feel like none of that matters. It’s like the universe just pauses when you’re together, and the only thing that exists is the two of you. With him, it’s almost like chaos has taken a vacation. You could be in the middle of a crisis, and he’ll still make it feel like everything’s perfectly fine, as if world domination plans are just minor inconveniences when you’re holding his hand.

If there’s a hint of danger, he’s already ten steps ahead, using his influence and that trusty Tengentsu of his to handle it before it even becomes a problem. He’s quietly protective, basically—but it’s not like he’s going to follow you around with a worried look or try to micromanage your every move. No, he’s more subtle. he’s got this almost ninja-like ability to keep tabs on things from a distance, making sure everything’s safe without you even noticing.

Listen, he’s not about to make you feel smothered or like you can’t handle things on your own. Instead, he’s all about ensuring your safety while giving you the space to live your life the way you want. It’s like having a secret guardian who makes sure everything’s smooth sailing—one minute, there’s a threat, and the next, it’s been quietly taken care of, and you’re none the wiser.

He’s like this with everyone in Hino Country, really. He cares about his people, and he’s not taking chances when it comes to their safety—or yours. Ryuya would never risk letting you or anyone else get hurt, even in the smallest way. So yeah, he’s protective, but he’s got finesse. It’s not overbearing; it’s just him making sure you’re safe, all while letting you feel independent. It’s like being protected by a stealthy, caring force who knows how to be there without being there.

When it comes to physical affection, Ryuya’s approach is all about quality over quantity. He’s not the type to be glued to your side or constantly showering you with grand, dramatic gestures. Instead, his affection is all in the little moments—the kind that might seem simple on the surface but carry a ton of meaning. Maybe it’s a hand on your shoulder, a soft brush of a stray hair from your face, or a gentle hug right when you need it most. It’s never over the top, but it’s so him—a warm, steady reminder that he’s there, and he cares deeply.

He’s not someone who needs constant physical touch to feel connected, but that doesn’t mean he’s distant. On the contrary, Ryuya finds comfort just in being close to you. Whether it’s sitting beside you during a quiet, peaceful moment or standing protectively by your side when things are tense, his presence is a constant, reassuring force.

And that’s the thing—you’d always feel a sense of safety and ease, even when it’s just the two of you sitting in silence. Ryuya has this way of making you feel deeply loved without needing to say a word. You just know he’s there for you, and that’s enough to make everything feel right. It’s the kind of affection that sneaks up on you, the kind that makes you realize, “Wow, this guy really cares,” even when all he’s done is sit close or hold your hand for a moment. <3

[callalillywrites]

Their Sweet Omega 2

Here's the second part of this. This story will have four main parts and some slice-of-life one-shots. (Finished writing the last part this morning. 😉 So much fluff, too, which is surprising since I'm usually a more angsty type of writer.)

Part 3 / Series Masterlist

Word Count: ~2000

Relationship: Alpha!Jake Jensen / Beta!Pre-serum Steve Rogers / Omega!Reader

Summary: Jake and Steve have been seeing Omega about a month when they have to postpone their planned date. When Omega learns why, she's quick to lend a helping hand and get closer to her sweet Alpha and Beta.

Warnings: not much, mostly fluff, these sweethearts are still learning about each other, recovering Steve, soft Jake

A/N: It's proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Omega finds herself smiling a lot more to herself as the weeks pass by. She’s been on a few dates with Jake and Steve, each one sweeter than the last. Before each date, they bring her a small bouquet of flowers ranging from sunflowers to pink carnations and chrysanthemums. At the end, she leaves them with sweeter kisses on their cheeks.

Without really having spoken of it, it seems they all agreed to take this slow. It’s clear to her that Jake and Steve have been spurned in the past. Her past isn’t exactly clear of some nastier encounters with entitled Alphas who’d viewed her as an object more than a person with her own dreams and goals.

It doesn’t stop her from wanting to possibly progress her budding relationship with this sweet duo. They’ve done a lot to boost her confidence and happiness.

The dates they’d planned together and separately had given her a lot of insight and fun about the two. They’ve taken her to the park (both), to the museum (Steve), and to a small gaming convention (Jake). That last one had surprised her and made her the most nervous, not wanting her secret to come out just yet. Jake had been practically vibrating at her side the entire time. It was a definite shift in the way he usually carried himself or the energy Steve had exuded at the museum.

She really can’t wait to see what their newest date idea is going to be. She can only hope that she’s dressed appropriately for it, wanting to impress them while having fun at their sides.

When her phone rings minutes later, she smiles down at Jake’s name and goofy photo flashed across the screen.

Her smile shifts to one of concern as Jake says, “We’re going to have to postpone our date tonight, angel. Steve had a pretty bad asthma attack last night. He’s fine, but he’s going to need a few days to recover. Please don’t be mad.”

Oh, she’s mad but not at them. She’s mad at whoever had given them the idea she should be mad at them for something outside their control. She tamps it down though and asks, “Do you or Steve need anything? I have a light day today and I’m happy to help however I can.”

The line goes quiet for several moments before Jake finally manages to sputter, “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

The wonder in his voice does something for Omega even though it also confuses her. She promises she wants to help especially when Jake accidentally lets it slip that he has to leave for a mandatory job pitch meeting, leaving Steve alone for a couple of hours. That makes up her mind as she promises to be there within thirty minutes. She hangs up before Jake can think to protest her wasting her day on them. As if it’s a waste when she gets to spend time with them, healthy or sick.

True to her word, she’s outside their door within half an hour. Her arms are loaded down with a bunch of bags and a large basket she picked up ages ago.

Jake immediately pulls her into the house and wraps his arms around her. He notices she doesn’t have any of her signature scents lingering from her candle making, only her clean skin and the barest hint of the jasmine shampoo she likes to use.

“Didn’t want to set another one off after I did some quick research,” she says by way of explanation, not realizing she’s making it that much easier for Jake to fall for her.

No, she’s too busy holding up her overloaded arms and explaining everything she brought. “I know Steve prefers some of the more old-fashioned comforts, so I brought him some soup in case his stomach is queasy from last night. I also brought some of my softest blankets and a few extra pillows since you can never have enough. I don’t know if he’s up for much, but I have some of my favorite movies that I think he might enjoy, too. I brought my portable game system in case he just wants to sleep and so I won’t disturb him.”  

“Is it too early to say I love you?” Jake asks before he can think to stop himself. He wants to be embarrassed at saying the words when they’ve only known her for a few weeks, but she really is proving to be the Omega of their dreams.

She simply smiles and shakes her head.

Jake is certain he’s smiling like an idiot at her, but he doesn’t care. He’s finding his quirks aren’t so bad whenever she’s around as she finds them just as adorable as Steve does. It’s not until he glances at his phone that he realizes he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave right then. He presses a sweet but quick kiss to her cheek before dashing out the door, promising to be back as soon as he can.

With Jake gone, Omega makes quick work of setting her stuff down so she can put the soup she brought in the fridge, so it won’t go bad. Then, she’s tackling the nest she plans to make on the deep sofa she passed in the living room. It takes her a few minutes to get it just the way she wants it though she’s ready to adjust it to better fit Steve and his needs.

She must’ve not been so quiet as Steve’s less-than-steady steps scuffle across the cool hardwood floors until he stands in the open doorway of the living room. He blinks several times to ensure she’s not an apparition. His eyes have dark circles under them when she spots him and quickly heads toward him to usher him to the sofa.

“I hope you don’t mind my dropping in,” she murmurs as she assists him into the nest she created until he’s situated and letting out the best contented sigh he can manage after his rough night. “Are you hungry? I’ve got soup. Simple chicken noodle but homemade if that helps at all. I can make you something else if you’d like.”

His eyes blink up at her once more. He’s almost certain he’s hallucinating all this. Never had anyone shown this much care towards him besides his mom or Jake in all his years. It’s almost too much yet not enough as he slowly shakes his head. “Just wanna sleep some more.”

“That’s fine, Stevie. Get some sleep. I’ll be right over here if you need me.”

When she moves towards the chair next to the sofa, he frowns. That’s too far for his liking when he’s been dreaming about having her so much closer. His voice is rougher than he’d like when he simply asks, “Angel?”

“What do you need, Stevie?”

He manages to open his arms as he says, “You.”

She smiles at him and sits on the edge of the nest she’s made. A little readjustment has his head in her lap where she quickly sets up a soothing rhythm of combing his hair with her fingers. The softest hum leaves him as his arms wrap around her middle, his eyes closing almost instantly.

Time ceases for them for a while as she continues running her fingers through his hair until she’s certain he’s completely out.

With him content to sleep for a while longer this way, she finds her gaze wandering about the room. It’s sparse in terms of knickknacks but the furniture is solid and comfortable as she settles deeper into the sofa’s cushions and her pillows. She finds herself hoping to one day call their home hers, adding a few of her touches here and there as they’ve come to mean so much to her. She can only hope they feel the same about her. Jake’s earlier question comes back to her, bringing some light to that hope.

As time starts passing a bit slower than she likes, she briefly wonders if she might be able to grab up her gaming console since Steve seems content to sleep the rest of the day. She’s itching to put her active mind to use in some way that won’t disturb him.

When she spots the game console on the side table, she figures she must’ve put it there while setting up the nest though she doesn’t really recall doing that.

Picking it up, she turns it on and logs into the first-person shooter game she’s come to dominate on. It’s only when several others start flooding the chat area that she realizes her mistake about who the console belongs to. The chat is going wild over how well she’s doing when she’s never really had the comments before. The screen name confirms her suspicions. This is Jake’s console, and she’s been messing with his stats.

Biting her lip, she finishes her current round, not wanting to possibly worsen them by leaving the game prematurely. It’s when she makes the final kill shot that she hears the front door and Jake’s voice calling out he’s back as softly as he can manage. She quickly puts the console back on the side table but forgets to turn it off in her haste.

Jake comes into the room, a smile blooming over his face at the sight in front of him.

“How was he?” he asks.

Her smile is genuine. “He’s been the best patient. I didn’t manage to get him to eat anything, but he’s been sleeping peacefully for the last couple of hours. How was your meeting?”

He shrugs, not really interested in talking about work when he has his two favorite people in front of him.

Jake’s gaze is soft until the flash of his console’s screen lights up. His smile curves a bit downward as he knows he turned it off before Omega showed up.

Omega knows she’s been caught, biting her lip a bit harder as she admits quickly, “I thought it was mine. I’m so sorry, Jake. I hope I didn’t mess up your progress too much.”

“I’m not worried about that, angel,” he assures her though he does lean over her to pick up the console, intent on turning it off. It’s only when he sees his friend’s name flash across the screen, congratulating him that he opens the game to see what Cougar means. His brows shoot upward as his eyes go saucer-wide behind his glasses at what he finds waiting for him.

He tears his gaze away from the console to the guilty expression twisting up Omega’s face as she waits for him to rip into her. All he can manage is a shocked, “You took out the Winter Soldier? How did you do that? He’s one of the top players of the game.”

Knowing it’s time to reveal her secret, she points towards her console that she spotted peaking out of her bag after realizing her mistake earlier.

Jake hesitates only a moment before swiping it up, dropping his in the chair and turning her console on. It takes moments for him to have the game open on her console, but minutes for it to register her gamer name.

When it does, he falls back into the chair with a solid plop.

“You’re Amaranth Fossa? Top-five player, Amaranth Fossa?”

She nods a bit sheepishly. “Are you mad?”

Jake surges forward until he’s on his knees in front of her. Mindful of a sleeping Steve, he pulls her gently towards him and seals her lips in the hottest chaste kiss of her life. When he pulls away, he rasps, “When Steve’s better, we’re totally claiming you, angel. In the meantime, you’re teaming up with me like I’ve been dreaming about since I first played against you. Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“Whatever you want, Alpha,” she said softly, doing her best not to let on how pleased she is with his praise or his promise of claiming her. She wants nothing more than to fully belong to these two, and it seems her dream might be coming true.

*****

Verse Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Tag List: @thezombieprostitute

[tua-five]

Season 2 Episode 10

Today's episode starts off sad. A painful reminder that Ben is gone.

Reginald was cruel enough to blame it on the kids, but at least had the decency to let them have the day off.

I also love it shows that each and every one of them affected the timeline. Even Klaus. How he was named and knew the connection (probably through last name), I don't know. And of course, they think Five was being held hostage and then Five says he does feel like it sometimes.

Which brings another thing to attention. The news specified "hostage" not kidnapped. Kidnapped requires moving the victim, whereas hostage does not. However, that has nothing to do with my point. Hostage also requires the attention of a 3rd party. So they believed that they held Five hostage in order to do something or get something. What exactly did they think that was? I really want to know how far the conspiracy theorists went.

The siblings all had a lot of balls to tell [Viktor] that they won't help [him] and Harlan. For the first time, [he's] asking for help. Admitting that [he's] scared. And they tell [him] they have other priorities. They tell the one who literally keeps ending the world no. Good choice. Also, little do they know that it literally WILL be their priority in just a few measly hours. They make up for it by all joining in the car. That was really sweet.

And wow, I forgot that Ben told [Viktor] to tell Klaus that he was too scared to go into the light. That it wasn't his fault. I almost started crying again.

The only thing I can think of, is Diego should've shut his dang mouth. I mean, I know it would've happened anyway, but still. Diego saying there's 7 of the siblings and 2 of them. Oh yeah, you're right. See what I can do? Boom. A billion commissioners. Idiot.

I am proud of Diego, however, with the bullets. He's never done anything like that (assumably), and it's a lot at once, too. He did it to save his dumb brother that everyone believes got themselves into this mess.

There's a lot going on here, and I'm writing as I watch, so it's a little difficult to find the words to voice my thoughts on this. I'll try my best.

[Viktor] being able to calm Harlan, being able to go into the little bubble that was created, is impressive. It might not seem like it, but it actually really is. That I'd such a huge energy force. Anyone else would probably be dead.

Lila being able to mimic everyone's powers is way too overpowered. And somehow, without practice with any of the powers, she's already stronger and can master them. Despite Five being too tired to blink, Lila was still able to.

Klaus being about to hit the ground, but being caught by ghosts. Another show of his powers and how great they can be.

And of course, Five being the dumbest most idiotic person and pushing a 300-pound Luther out of the way of falling bricks. Luther literally survived a chandelier being dropped on him without a scratch. However, I do know that Five doesn't truly know that, so fine. But still. His love for his siblings makes him dumb.

Another thing about Five. He was too tired to blink with Diego, but then he goes and fights Lila, blinking around the room. There's 2 logical reasons he's able to do this. 1 being, he's had enough rest that he isn't tired anymore (though 2 minutes barely feels like enough time), or 2, he's running on adrenaline now. Out of fear. For himself and his family. He sees Allison dying, thought Luther was going to die (supposedly) by the bricks, etc. He's mad and confused, and he's afraid. He won't admit it, but he is. I'd like to believe it's the latter. That he's running on adrenaline. It just makes more sense.

Okay, hold on..

It seems I have remembered things wrong..?

The siblings are just now figuring out that Lila is "one of them". Klaus says, "Eh, but there were only 7 of us." Somenwhere somehow, my brain went to the hargreeves siblings knows that they are 7 of 43 gifted children born on the 1st of October 1989 from women who were not pregnant when the day began. I assumed that Reginald Hargreeves told them so. However, here, the siblings say that he never told the full truth. That they should consider the possibility of there being more of them out there. Meaning they didn't know about the other 36 children.

I went back to the first episode. To rewatch Sir Reginald's speech after the bank heist. And he says, "Our world is changing. Has changed. There are some among us lifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary. I have adopted six such children. I give you the inaugural class of The Umbrella Academy." So here, he hints that there are more "powered" people out there. However, the siblings now seem to not know that. So Reginald, either gaslit them, and/or they blocked that out. They're kids, so right now, all they're thinking about is the hundreds of people in front of them. The news cameras. The people they just saved and those they killed. The victory of their assumed first mission.

Can we talk about the amazing lines in just 30 seconds?

Luther saying "Love shouldn't hurt this much." Diego saying "I know what it's like to love dangerous people. Difference is... they love me back." Him saying that they can be her family if she let's them. Lila pausing to look at the others, and they all smile at her!! Like they truly will!!?

And then, dang, I did not remember The Handler just killing everyone so quick.

What's so sweet is Lila saying, "They're my real family." To the one she's called mom for so long. She's calling them family after she just tried killing all of them.

It's also sad how I'm sure Five is using his very last energy to go back in time. "Seconds. Not decades." He's dying, a gun pointed st his face, and his father's words echo in his head. And he uses that.

So much can change in a matter of seconds.

He saves his family with the last ounce of hope and will he has. Successfully.

Oh, and may I just say. With how accident prone and apocalypse prone, the siblings are, they should've known to take an extra briefcase. Just in case, ya know?

Cause yeah. "Shit" is right.

Gif collection!

[bunnybird-afk]

i actually have a few ideas in mind for a modern au for the graveborns :D

Niru

• A military doctor (based on his lore) that constantly works day in and day out, becoming the dad who went to get the milk (body counts) to the point where he just sleeps at the hospital if so desired.

• He's also obsessed with the anatomies of a human body to the point where he had intrusive thoughts of wanting to.. 'inspect' on it more

Viperian

• Goes by Victor in this AU, a college professor who teaches biology/chemistry for foundation students, you could say that he's very great at explaining the concepts as he goes VERY into details, which makes him one of the profs that the students go for if they have any questions, despite his creepy appearance

• Little did they know that he has been having a secret past time of kidnapping people and experiments on them at midnight... (He also does this with Niru when they got the time, theyre practically besties)

Cecia

• An opera singer (based on her beta lore) that went viral on socials due to her beautiful voice and pretty appearance, guys and gals would be head over heels for her, if she were to be in any opera stages, tickets would sold out quickly

• Though, she's kinda a brat, she's too arrogant to the point where she would mistreat her butler, Mr. Carlyle (not that he mind, he's devoted to her) and takes her fans for granted

Ludovic

• Rich man in Whiteridge, holding a high title as he owns the place, fancy clothed, looks very serious and stern, with a hint of sadness in his eyes

• Though that sadness goes away when you see him painting a very beautiful landscape or portrait based on his self-grown flower field and his family... He looks the happiest in there. He would also give flowers occasionally to his people! Ah, such a great heart at a young age

(Also he's the type of person to watch a streamer/hear music while painting I don't make the rules)

Igor

• Works as a daycare attendant (and a good one at that) since he likes to play with children, the other workers there said that he has a himbo energy when they met him, his mind may be empty but his care for the children is very devoted. Their first impression of him is quite different though,,, (they crapped themselves seeing him because of how ridiculously tall he is + he has a menacing look)

• At night I'd imagine he'd become a faceless streamer (based on Ranboo), where he'd engage in horror content and silly goofy games, might also chat about funny things that happened during his life. (And yes his Vtuber is a zombie knight like in AFKJ. Again i dont make the rules)

Yeah that's all I could think off atm, i'll write the other characters if I got time

I love the idea of the graveborn nobles lowkey being from like, old money families. Especially Cecia, Thoran and Ludovic.

Also, if this was a mystery thriller/dating sim like the arcana, bodies going missing from morgues and hospitals would be one hell of a plot point. Especially if we work with @twilight-melodys lore about Hogan being a former FBI agent and Valen being his subordinate. Like imagine Hogan asking his old friend (former work partner?) for help investigating a case because he can't actually get involved in an official capacity but he trusts their abilities.

Cue Merlin and Valen investigating and realizing that this conspiracy goes way deeper than they initially thought. The local Forestry Department (the Wilders) reporting weird things happening to the local fauna, some Maulers going missing inexplicably, the local gang boss (Sonja) coming forward about what happened to her sister, and realizing the corruption that runs deep in the towns upper-class socialite society. You could go absolutely insane with this idea. At that point a romance sub-plot is probably the least of Merlin's worries (though personally I'm going a little feral over the idea of Valen in an FBI uniform).

Also, love the idea of Igor just minding his own damn business and not getting involved with all the drama. Hydrated (he's a gamer so probably not) , staying in his lane and thriving, as it should be.

[captainsophiestark]

No Way To Know For Sure Part 2

Daniel Sousa x Reader

Masterlist - Part 1 - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Also written for @ghostofskywalker as a part 2 to the fic you let me adopt a while ago! I've had this in my drafts since all that AI stuff and I'm happy to have rediscovered and finished it 😄 Hope you like it!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Now that you've decided to move to LA with Daniel, there's a few loose ends left to tie up in New York.

Word Count: 2,174

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed dramatically as I sared straight ahead out the window, watching all the people bustling around the streets and the familiar, giant buildings hovering over them. I'd been gone for some time now, but New York hadn't changed.

Jarvis, currently in the driver's seat of the car, was positively buzzing, and I could tell he was struggling not to say anything. Even the great city of New York couldn't keep me distracted from all the ridiculous energy he was projecting.

"Alright, Mr. Jarvis, spit it out," I said, at last turning from the window to look at my friend. He glanced at me, lips pursed tight to try and hold back a smile before he had to turn his gaze back to the road.

"I'm sorry, it's just... I must admit, I'm rather excited. Since Mr. Stark has been spending more time in Los Angeles, I've missed seeing all of you here in New York. Having you regularly in Los Angeles as well as Rose and Chief Sousa... well, it will be a delight."

A smile made its way onto my face despite my best effots. I'd wanted Daniel to drive me in to the office this morning to put in my transfer request for the LA office, but he had a meeting with an informant he couldn't move. I hadn't really wanted to resort to Jarvis, only because I knew he wouldn't be able to stay calm about my decision, but now I had to admit I was happy to be here with him.

"It'll be wonderful to get to see more of you too, Mr. Jarvis," I said with a smile. "You, me, Ana, and Daniel should set up a regular double date."

"Oh, that would be lovely!" Jarvis turned to give me a big smile as we at last pulled up in front of the New York SSR. He hopped out and ran around to open my door for me, beating me to the punch of opening it myself, something we'd turned into a bit of a competition. "Ana will be delighted at the idea too, I'm sure."

"Maybe we can even invite Howard," I said, my voice serious even though I was cackling in my head. I got out of the car and stood, smirking at Jarvis' less than enthusiastic expression as I continued. "He can bring along whoever he's brought home with him on any given week."

"That may be the single most horrifying suggestion I've heard in my entire life."

I cackled, clapping Jarvis on the shoulder as I walked past him and towards the entrance to the "telephone company".

"Thanks for the ride! I promise I won't let Howard crash any of our couples' nights, unless he finally gets a girlfriend who sticks around for more than a few weeks."

"At this point in Mr. Stark's life, a few days would be impressive," he called after me. I laughed, then turned back at the door to give Jarvis a smile.

"I'll see you back in LA!"

"I'm looking forward to it!"

I smiled and waved before finally heading through the door and back into the familiar hallways of the New York SSR. Daniel would be picking me up later, after I got everything sorted out for my move, and then who knew when I'd next be back in this place and this city. We had plenty of friends here and the other half of the SSR, so it's not like I'd never see the city again, but for the first time since I'd started working here I had no idea when I'd next be back. I tried not to let it get to me, but stepping into the currently-empty bullpen of the place I'd spent so much time in the last few years drove the knife in a little harder.

I'd intentionally arrived before most of the other agents got here, hoping to avoid a lot of hubub about my transfer request. No matter how nostalgic I felt being here, my decision had been made. I loved Daniel and the life I'd started building with Daniel in LA enough that nothing could make me want to leave it. Not even my favorite pizza place on the way between here and my former apartment.

"Well well well. Look what the cat dragged in."

Of course, I couldn't get away with avoiding Chief Jack Thompson, especially not when I had to turn my transfer request papers in to him. He came striding out of his office, a massive grin on his face as he crossed the bullpen towards me.

"Long time no see, Agent."

"I saw you two weeks ago, Jack."

"Yeah, but in LA. You've been on-loan for a while. I haven't seen you as my agent, in New York, in a long time."

I just rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, enjoy the next half hour then, because as soon as these papers are finalized, I'm officially Daniel's agent."

"Now hold on a minute, I have some serious concerns about you leaving that we need to address before I finalize anything. I mean, is it really appropriate for a chief to be dating one of his own agents? Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen if you ask me."

"Jack. You are the one who sent me there, you meddling mother hen, with the exact hope that this would happen. I will literally fight you in the middle of the bullpen if you want to use that against me now."

Jack held up his hands. "Alright, relax. Your transfer's basically already finalized, I just need your signature next to mine. Then you can go run off into the sunset with Sousa and leave the greatest city in the world behind like it's nothing."

"Alright, you went to Ithica for college. At least I'm leaving for another interesting city, even if it's not as good."

"At least we can agree on that last part."

I snorted, but I couldn't totally keep a smile off my face either. Jack and I had actually kind of become friends in the past few months, especially in the wake of Daniel leaving, and I was surprised to find a little ping of sadness in my chest at the thought of leaving him behind with the rest of this city. If you'd told me a few years ago I'd be missing Jack Thompson, I would've laughed in your face.

Jack pulled the transfer papers out of a file on the nearest desk where they'd apparently been waiting for me all morning, setting them down in front of me. In turn, I handed him the papers I'd filled out since I last saw him, then glanced at what was in front of me. True to his word, they only needed my signature to be finalized.

"We're gonna miss you around here," he said, his voice unusually serious. I glanced up to find him holding out a pen to me, a small smile on his face. "Seriously."

"...I'm gonna miss you too, Jack."

We held each other's gaze for a few moments, maybe the first time we'd had a sincere exchange in my entire time working here. Finally, he cleared his throat, looking away as I finally took the pen from his hand.

"Alright, that's enough of that sappy crap. You bring a box to clean out your desk? I don't want to have to waste agency time clearing out whatever garbage you left in there before you went to LA."

"Don't worry, I've got a plan for all my leftover trash and scribbled notes I don't need anymore."

"I don't like the way you said that. What do you-"

"Oh, thank goodness!"

I straightened from signing the documents after finishing the last one to find Peggy coming through the doors into the bullpen, looking slightly more frazzled than usual. She shook her head at me as she approached, dropping her stuff at the base of the desk and putting her hands on her hips.

"I thought I'd missed you. I can't believe you were planning to just duck in and duck out this morning. What were you planning to do if Thompson hadn't called me to tell me when you were coming in? Just leave for Los Angeles without a goodbye?"

"Actually, Daniel and I were planning to invite the two of you to dinner tonight for a real goodbye. I'm just trying to avoid causing a scene in the middle of the bullpen, in the middle of the SSR's workday."

Peggy and Jack both scoffed, the sounds eerily similar. I raised an eyebrow, but Jack leaned in and snatched the papers off my desk before I could comment.

"Alright, I'm gonna go process these since you don't want to hang around here. By the time you're done with your desk, I'll be done with these."

I nodded, watching Jack's back as he headed back into his office. As soon as he disappeared through the doorway, I turned back to Peggy.

"I need you to get him out of his office for, like, five minutes between when I finish cleaning out my desk and when I head out of here. I'm gonna put all the papers and stuff I don't need in his desk."

Peggy grinned. "I'll make sure you have the window of opportunity you need."

"I knew I could count on you."

We snuck a high-five before Jack could notice, then I headed over my desk to start the packing process in earnest. There really wasn't much I needed to get, since I'd brought most of the things I needed with me to LA the first time, but a handful of the things I'd collected found a temporary home in my bag. Even better, the stack of trash I was planning to stick in Jack's office was substantial, and just like Peggy'd promised, she dragged Jack away from his desk long enough to give me just the opening I needed.

I stepped out of his office and back into the bullpen after finishing my mission, and a moment later, Peggy and Jack came around the corner to join me. I smiled at the both of them.

"Desk's been cleared. Papers are done. I think... I'm officially all finished up here."

"You sure I'm not going to find some trash you forgot about when I try to put somebody else at your desk?" Jack asked, hands on his hips. I rolled my eyes and sighed, responding without missing a beat.

"Of course not, Jack. You're not going to find any forgotten trash in my desk. Come on."

All true, technically. Peggy grinned at me, but I managed to keep a straight face as Jack put his hands on his hips and sighed.

"...I guess this is it, then, huh?"

"I guess it is."

I sighed, looking around at the empty bullpen one last time. I hadn't been working out of this office for a while now, and it's not like I'd never be back. But something about having my desk packed, ready to head out the door with the last of my roots pulled up still hit me a bit.

"I'm... gonna miss you guys," I said, shaking my head as I turned back to my two friends. Jack rolled his eyes, since we'd already exhausted his reserve of sincerity for the day, but Peggy gave me a soft smile.

"We'll miss you too. And you can expect regular visits from us in the winter, when we're sick of the snow and need to use our friends for access to the sunshine in Los Angeles."

I grinned. "As long as you promise to bring real pizza with you whenever you visit."

"Deal."

We shared a smile, and thankfully, before any of us could get any sappier, Daniel walked through the door, his meeting with his contact apparently over with.

"Hey," he said, giviing me a smile as he walked over to join us. He leaned in to give me a quick kiss, then pulled back with a smile. "You ready to go? Our favorite breakfast place is waiting for us."

I smiled, then gave Daniel a nod. We were technically on vacation, so we'd planned to spend the rest of our day on a tour of all of our favorite places in New York city.

"We'll see you guys for dinner tonight, right?" Daniel asked as he took my hand, the two of us taking a few steps towards the door.

"As long as you're buying," called Jack, and Peggy nodded. Daniel shot him a thumbs up as I rolled my eyes, and just like that, Daniel and I were standing on the threshold of the New York SSR.

"You ready?" Daniel asked, leaning in to whisper to me. I took a deep breath, sparing one last moment of reminiscing for the place I'd spent so much of my life in over the last few years, then turned to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

He smiled back at me, giving my hand a quick squeeze before we turned our backs on the office, officially and completely moving forward together. It still stung a little to be leaving, but not nearly as badly as it could've, since I knew and loved where I was heading.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[dribs-and-drabbles]

I was encouraged by @grapejuicegay to trash watch Pit Babe and so here I am but I have...questions...

Is Babe really getting off on hearing the sound of the engines?!

Why is Babe having sex with other Alphas (I can't believe I'm writing this 🤦🏽‍♀️) and not Omegas, especially if he doesn't like the way the Alphas smell? Is it because he's a 'Super Alpha' and prefers Alphas to Omegas? (oh dear god why am I doing this?!)

Isn't it a tad unfair to let him race using his special powers against others who don't have them?

I nearly choked on my water reading Pavel's tattoo thinking it said "Full Sausage" but then I remembered @slayerkitty or @sparklyeyedhimbo had already made a point of this and I thankfully realised it says "Full Savage" 😂

I actually can't stop thinking about how salty Babe's skin would be because that man would have been sweating in that car race...

Wait wait wait...are they really calling (translating) Babe having sex as the "concentration"?! Like it's a thing he needs to do to...release pent up energy?!...to focus his mind?!

Do we get to know if any of Babe's friends are also Alphas (or Omegas or Betas) or is he the only one?

Please! This is so silly (affectionate). They can't compete over a person...someone who has their own autonomy to say what he can do and with whom 😂 And, sorry, but Charlie, love, you should have had more confidence in Babe since you went to him as a fan.

How did Winner win that first one?... I can't believe this show has me googling how to win a drift race... "It's all about dominating the other driver..." ah, ok, now I get why they're doing this.

Oh, if I'd just continued watching I wouldn't have needed to google it 😂🤦🏽‍♀️

Kind of impressed by the actual drivers of these cars though.

Winner needs to take some advice from Elsa and Let It Go.

"I don't go into strangers' houses"... I smell a parallel in the future, it's that alpha stink.

*she squints* TINIDEE APARTMENTS?! Charlie is staying in the same building as Pat and Pran?! (*aaaand there she goes making it about Bad Buddy again*)

OMG what is it with villans and bonsai trees?! (I want a bonsai tree, does that mean I need to become a villainess? 🤔)

Why are they calling that guy 'Uncle'...he looks the same age?!

Okay, that was...not as bad as I first thought. Nut is a big bonus and Pavel and Pooh are doing a decent job. I do wonder if Babe and Charlie are endgame though or if Babe and Way are... Will I keep watching? Probably, now that I've started, but I may not do this each time...unless each ep throws up more questions. Thanks kk.

[andypantsx3]

hi andie!! 🥺 i have a few lil questions for you, if you don’t mind 🥺 (you may choose to answer this publicly or privately, whichever is more comfortable for you!)

would you have any tips/advice for writing/posting on a schedule? 🥺 how do you manage to stay on top of releasing/writing parts of your series consistently? do you keep daily goals? internal deadlines? a system? 🥺

i’ve always adored how organised you are with your fics!! and how regularly you write and update too 🥺 i am currently ~~trying to write and post more regularly (esp the ones for ficsforgaza!) but am stuck on how/where to start 🥺

Hi Sellie my love!! Omg yeah of course I'm happy to answer!! Idk that my system will work for you because everyone is different but I'm happy to explain my process!

These days I do not have much time or large stores of the right kind of focused energy it takes to write, mostly due to work and other personal life things I have going on right now. So I'm all about keeping goals microscopic as hell, removing blockers that distract me, and removing any pressure to write, actually lmao. I find that I'm most enthusiastic and productive when I don't feel like it's another obligation to deliver on, in the midst of all the other thousands of things I am responsible for in my day-to-day, if that makes sense?

In terms of goals, I have a loose one of writing just 100 words a day, but I cannot emphasize enough how loose it is. I do not ever try to make up for days I missed because that just adds more pressure. I do not try to push myself into doing it if I'm not feeling it because the last thing I want is for writing to feel like anything but a fun hobby. If you intend to take the Andie approach, I would advise you to set a goal that you think is so small you could achieve it by sneezing on your keyboard. Meeting goals is like, proven to release dopamine & boost your mindset, so it's more important overall to meet any goal than it is to have an impressive one.

Relatedly, I only promise things on a schedule when I know 100% I have the enthusiasm to meet it. I don't set deadlines to motivate myself, rather I let the deadlines be motivated by me, if that also makes sense? And if I have competing fics, I will prioritize working on whichever one has an actual deadline (like I set aside all my other fics to work on the one for Lore's a/b/o collab) because I know the boost I'm going to get from delivering on that is going to help me write the other ones after anyway.

I also try to remove as many blockers as I can so that writing is easy as pie. I write when I know I can control most of the factors that would sabotage me—early in the morning. If I can help it, I usually try to write first thing before I log on to any of my socials in case there's some spicy discourse I'm going to be absorbed by. It's also essential for me to do before work because work sucks the absolute life out of me right now, and I am almost never in the right headspace when I get home. Also no one ever tries to call or text me first thing in the morning so there are fewer distractions at play and it's quick work to just sit down and bang a few lines out.

I also set up my fics so that it's easy for me personally to work through them. They are all planned in advance so I know where I have to go with my writing and I'm not stuck waiting for an idea. But they're also not planned down to the detail, so that I don't feel like there's nothing left for me to explore mentally when writing!! That helps keep things directed but still interesting to me, so I feel motivated to keep returning to them.

It's really all about finding what works for you! Reflecting on what you've written already, when did you feel most motivated to write? What time of day was it, most often? What fic was it and how had you planned that/what was the subject material? Was it when you'd had a deadline to work against, or when no one knew you were working on it? Recreating those conditions to the best of your ability is what I think will help you stay engaged.

And again I cannot emphasize how much more important it is to stay motivated than it is to deliver anything regularly or on an impressive timeline. The motivation is the key to helping you to keep delivering long term. If you write something regularly for 2-3 months but then burn out, that's not gonna help you!! And honestly, meeting small goals and feeling good is actually going to motivate you to write more and faster anyway, so it's a win-win lol.