#It will be sans centric later on if you are here for that

[obamerht]

wooo two new pages, I’m nearing to the end of the first chapter of HeartTale, I know this isin’t well polished and stuff, but I’m getting a proper drawing tablet and with it I’ll also get a better drawing program, so I hope the quality will soon increase:]

[marveltrumpshate]

To say that we’re beyond devastated and at a loss for words barely scratches the surface of what we’re feeling in the wake of the U.S. election, and it’s been a struggle to figure out what to say and how to speak with impassioned clarity when we're muddling through fury, heartbreak, and fear. So what we did was go back to our 2018 "thank you" post to all of our creators, bidders, signal boosters, and supporters to reflect on the beginnings of MTH and where we can go from here.

When Marvel Trumps Hate was created, it was made with the hope that our name would outlast Trump. We would fight to eradicate the hate that he and his ilk have sown and continue to spread and not only survive but also thrive in spite of it. That Trump would be re-elected six years later by a bigger, more emphatic margin, with the Republicans taking the House and Senate, is a damning indication of the state of the U.S. today and a result that is of extreme concern for everyone in the U.S. and around the world.

In many ways, it’s dispiriting that not only have a lot of things not changed since MTH was founded, but they’ve also become actively worse and more dysfunctional. But the difference between 2018 and 2024 is that while our anger hasn’t gone away, our rage is now accompanied with a better, more clear-eyed understanding of what’s broken and what actions need to be taken. We know what needs fixing—and what works.

What works is community. We may not be able to put our trust in certain systems and people in power, but we can lean on and take care of one another. We have to and we will. How do we know this? Because you’ve all shown that since the beginning. We were reminded of it when reading our 2018 post and thinking about the past six years of MTH. Like we said in our closing message at the end of this year’s auction, it’s easy to feel defeated, but time and time again, we’ve learned that the most important thing is to show up even if you’re unsure of what impact you can have as just one person. Every year, that’s what you all do.

Hope doesn’t come from nowhere. We have to create it ourselves. And while there are dark days ahead of us, what we have to hold onto as we march forward, what lights our way, is the knowledge that you’re doing just that. This year’s auction is proof of it.

This year, 180 "Marvel"-ous creators came forward to offer 293 auctions. They offered 360 unique platonic and romantic relationships and character-centric options (if we include "all ships/gen"-inclusive relationships, this number is even higher) across 40 universes within the Marvel multiverse.

This spirit of inclusion goes beyond trying to encompass as much of the Marvel fandom as possible and can be seen in our auction and charity results too. Every one of 293 auctions was bid on, and every one of our 30 supported charities received donations. As ever, we’re in awe of your commitment to supporting all our creators and charities.

As for the crowning achievement, the culmination of our efforts, the grand total we raised this year is…

Wow. This is the most we’ve ever raised in a single MTH auction (other than our Spiders Georg 2021 auction), and you shattered the record for the highest amount donated to a charity AGAIN, with $9,420.62 going to Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders) too. This is all the more impressive considering it was accomplished by the second-to-smallest number of creators and auctions we had. It goes to show that no matter how small you are, you can pack a punch if you team up.

You can see the effort of our teamwork and the breakdown of the donations here (to enlarge the image, click here and hover to see the donation amount per charity).

We’ve also listed the amount raised per charity on our 2024 auction results page.

Creators, we couldn't have started this auction without you. Your commitment to the event, whether you return every year, made a surprise welcome return after a break, or are new and took what we know can be a scary jump into the event, moves us. It’s hard putting yourself out there, and we applaud you for it.

Bidders, your willingness to duke it out helps us raise as much money as we do. We’ve seen some wild things though what always astonishes us the most is that most donations are small ones including a lot of those crazily high winning bids—so many of them were the result of people pooling their five dollars together! This has been consistently the case since MTH began and is a testament to the ripple effect you can have if you’re part of something bigger than yourself.

We also owe our success to our amazing signal boosters. There can’t be an auction without any participants so to every fandom community Tumblr and Discord mod and every individual who shared our posts and encouraged their fandom friends to sign up and/or bid, thank you so much. Together, we reached hundreds of fantastic creators and bidders from all corners of the Marvel fandom, many of whom we didn't know and some who were hearing about us for the first time (and some who made the leap after sitting on the fence for years which is awesome).

Thank you all. We’re so touched by the massive number of people who donated above and beyond their pledged amount, creators who took on multiple auctions and offered multiple winner slots, and bidders who accepted their second-place wins with such eagerness. We also had people make donations in the spirit of MTH even though they didn’t win an auction, which was beyond generous. This year, we saw a record number of people doing that (even someone who was no longer part of the Marvel fandom but wanted to support what we were doing), especially in the wake of the U.S. election, and it made us very emotional to see such compassion.

From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for helping us turn our seventh Marvel Trumps Hate auction into such a fantastic experience. We cherish every single message of love and support that we received and continue to receive on our Discord server and through DMs, Tumblr messages, emails, tweets, etc., and they as well as your generosity have buoyed us since September and the past two days in particular.

If you'd like to stay updated on all of the 2024 Marvel Trumps Hate fills, follow us and/or check out the "mth 2024" tag on our Tumblr. You’ll also be able to find works posted on AO3 in our Marvel Trumps Hate 2024 collection and links to fills in our Discord server, which you can join to brainstorm prompts, chat about fills, and find out about other fandom events.

And with that, MTH 2024 has officially come to a close. Thank you once again to everyone who volunteered their services, time, money, and platforms to spread the word. We hope that these results have bolstered your belief that you can make a difference as well as your determination to stand back up after being knocked down and defiantly say, “I can do this all day.”

Because we have to. For those of us who have suffered, for those of us who are in the most danger now, for those of us who have died at the hands of the evil and cruel in power and are no longer with us. For all of us who are still here. Because we all deserve to be here, safe, cared for, and alive.

So let’s get back up. Let’s get to work.

Yours in solidarity, Your 2024 MTH mods

[lostloveletters]

Big Girls Don't Cry (Bucky Egan x OC)

Summary: After a night out spirals out of control, Holly thinks she's doomed to be a haunted house. Bucky’s brave enough to let the light in.

Note: An angsty first kiss for Holly and Bucky…I’m so overwhelmed by the response to the MotA fics I’ve posted so far, thank you so much🖤 There's going to be a parallel Woody/Brady-centric fic to this, which is why I included a decent ensemble here lol. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Descriptions of a panic attack and related self-inflicted injuries; mentions of death and grief (hurt/comfort). Inevitable historical inaccuracies. Ends on a somewhat suggestive note, but nothing explicit.

Holly was exhausted when Bucky asked her to go to the pub in town with him and some of the other pilots that evening. She initially hesitated, but between his near insisting and her notion that a break from the base would do her good, she accepted the invitation. When she found Woody later on to ask if she was going, Brady had already invited her, a light blush spreading across Woody’s face when she told Holly. The overall group of seven required pushing two tables together and stealing some empty chairs.

“Holly, your drink’s on me. I got $4.50 when you won the last typing contest,” Bucky said.

“You bet on it?” Buck asked.

“I knew she’d win.”

“Beat her own record,” Woody added.

Buck shook his head, smiling a bit. Holly liked Buck a lot, especially the way his face lit up when she asked him about Marge. Seemed to be physically lighter, too, like the weight of being one of the de facto leaders of the 100th was off of his shoulders for that moment in time. He’d get almost flustered if he realized he was rambling, apologizing for taking up so much of her time talking about his girl even though she was the one who asked him.

“Which is why I’m buying my sailor a dark ‘n’ stormy, and the rest of you are on your own.”

She laughed, “Thanks, Bucky.”

‘My sailor.’ He had taken to calling her after they listened to the Nationals-Yankees game together. But she apparently inherited her sailorship from Stan, her preference for rum and penchant for cursing around Bucky (and few others), made him designate her so.

Nevermind she had only been on a boat a handful of times, one of which was the ship that brought her over to England from New York, and no, she didn’t know any sea shanties. He took it upon himself to learn one from a local laborer who worked on schooners at the turn of the century. Of course, Bucky had been drunk when he tried to teach her the song, remembering half of the lyrics and ad-libbing the rest. She left the singing to him.

She still had one secret–an anchor tattoo on her upper arm. An impulsive decision she and Stan made together when she accompanied him to San Francisco the week he shipped out to the Pacific. The same week she met Woody, and the rest of her life started before she could blink.

Being in the pub with everyone was the most normal she’d felt in a while. She hoped could finally shake whatever stormy clouds had made their home in her mind over the past year. 

“Hey Holly, you’re from DC, right?” Curt asked abruptly. “You ever meet the President? See him around the neighborhood or something?”

She laughed. “No, unfortunately I’ve never run into President Roosevelt at the drug store.”

“How would he even do that? He’d get mobbed,” Crank said. 

Woody nodded. “He’s probably got a mean security detail, too.”

“Well he can’t spend all day in the White House!”

“Why not? Heard they got a bowling alley in there,” Buck said.

“Woody, I’ll get you a beer?” Brady asked, his voice low among the clamor of what President Roosevelt did for fun in the nation's capital.

“Thanks, John.”

Holly sneaked a glance at her best friend when Brady stood up and headed over to the bar. She wasn’t sure if Woody had told him that Holly knew about them. There were few, if any secrets between Holly and Woody, and guys were certainly no exception.

“Look, if I were the president, I’d wanna know my neighbors,” Curt said.

“If you were president,” Buck repeated, toothpick between his teeth as he smiled. “Listen to him.”

“Hey, anybody can run,” Curt said. “That’s what it says in the Bill of Rights or something.”

“That doesn’t mean you should,” Crank said.

“You got my vote, Curt,” Bucky announced, setting his and Holly’s drinks on the table.

“Thanks, Bucky. You’ll be my VP.”

Bucky grinned, sitting next to Holly. His arm settled on the back of her seat, his fingers brushing the ends of her curly hair. 

The next few minutes was a game of musical chairs as everyone else came and went with their drinks of choice, Brady taking the seat next to Woody as soon as it was open. 

Holly found herself leaning against Bucky as she drank, nursing her dark ‘n’ stormy with the intent of making it last until it was time to leave. He was the only person she felt comfortable enough to be in such close contact with besides Woody. He felt like sitting next to the radiator in her childhood bedroom, and she nearly nodded off after some time, Buck and Bucky in the middle of some conversation she couldn’t follow. 

Curt returned to the table with what must have been his third or fourth beer of the night.

“Hey Bucky, some of these blokes are lookin’ to play darts,” he said, motioning behind him.

Bucky nodded. “Hope they’re ready to cover my tab.” He threw back his whiskey and gave Holly’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as he got up. “C’mon, doll.”

Holly didn’t remember much of what happened between then and when she heard it. An entire chunk of time morphed into a hazy blur in her mind. Vaguely remembered cheering for Bucky and Curt. Then Curt called an RAF pilot an asshole, and a fight nearly broke out before fizzling down by the grace of god. Or maybe Buck stepped in. Bucky had something to her before his turn, an aside she laughed at, but couldn’t recall.

Different conversations around her jumbled with one another, stringing together in a cruel way only her own mind could conjure up for her. She heard him clear as day. 

“Stan?” she whispered, her voice crazed with illogical hope.

Her heart raced. She looked frantically around the room for a sign—any sign of him.

But Stan was dead. There’d been a funeral with a body. His mother wept over the open casket. Her own mother had written as much. Sent her the funeral program which remained hidden among her belongings. 

She kept the accompanying memorial card on her person at all times. A nice photo of Stan in uniform. His full name. Dates of birth and death. A bible verse and a little mention of his service in the Navy. 

Stan was dead. Had been for over a year.

Her chest tightened, pulling like a rubber band about to snap. As the room closed in on her, she barrelled through the pub patrons, paying no mind to who was in her path, only that they were between her and a door. 

The cool night air shocked her skin, but it wasn’t enough to snuff out the burning in her lungs. Panic overtook her brain. With a strangled shout, she curled her fist, unleashing months of unspoken grief directly onto the brick wall in front of her. Pain struck her hand like a bolt of lightning, but she could breathe again. 

Her knuckles split open, bruises blossoming across her fingers in the darkness. “Fuck!” she shouted, both in pain and disbelief at herself. “Motherfuck–”

The alley door slammed open, chaos from the bar ringing in her ears as she looked wide-eyed at the person who interrupted her. A tense mortification swept over her body. 

She’d been doing so well. Kept the self-destructive thoughts at bay. Used to chew on her bottom lip until it bled, the pain of broken skin and taste of copper strangely grounding when her mind wandered too far. Hadn’t done in it months. But she never exploded. Not quite like this. 

Bucky stumbled forward, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Holly?” he asked, his gaze drifting down to her hand. “Jesus, what happened?”

Of course he would be the one to witness her breakdown. She wished it were Woody, but she sure as hell didn’t want to ruin her best friend’s night out with her boyfriend either. 

Woody was used to it. Holly was always too embarrassed to go to a nurse, so Woody would sit her down and carefully apply petroleum jelly to Holly’s raw lips, eyebrows knit together in concerned concentration as her fingers brushed across the cracked, scabbed over skin. Didn’t care if she had been working for over twelve hours straight or was in the middle of something else.

But Bucky wasn’t Woody, and she never wanted him to see her like this.

Holly stared at him, trembling as he took a tentative step toward her. Tears welled up in her eyes. She frantically rubbed at them with her sleeve. She let out a shaky breath. 

“Holly,” he repeated. “Are you alright?”

“I felt like I was going to explode in there so I came out here and…” She flexed her injured hand and winced. “I heard someone talking. He sounded just like Stan.”  She swallowed a lump in her throat, feeling more pathetic as she explained herself. “I guess my wires got crossed.”

“Hey, it happens,” he tried assuring her. “You think you’re the only one?”

Holly shook her head. “Even when I got the letter last year, I still showed up and did what I had to do. Didn’t miss a day.” She was silent for a moment. “I don’t know why tonight was so different.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” He took her bruised hand, whispering an apology when she hissed in pain. Examined it as best as he could in the cover of night. “At least not any more than you already have.”

“I punched a brick wall. I’m not gonna be able to type tomorrow,” she said, quickly adding, “I can’t go to a nurse. They’ll ask what happened, and I’d rather crawl in a hole somewhere.”

He shook his head. “C’mon, I’ll patch up that hand for you. It’s probably not even that bad.”

“Don’t cut your night short because of me.”

Briefly, almost enough to convince her it was just a trick of the moonlight, he looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “It’s the least I can do for making you come out tonight.”

“Bucky, you didn’t make me do anything. I don’t want to be some wilting flower who’s too afraid to keep living. Stan wouldn’t have wanted that for me. I just wish my brain would get the message.”

“Well, I’m sure Stan wouldn’t have wanted you to walk all the way back by yourself if you didn’t have to,” he said.

She smiled weakly. “Yeah, he’d chew me out for that.”

So would Bucky, if this had happened and he hadn’t found her. If she walked back to Thorpe Abbotts alone in the dead of night with nothing but the stars to keep her company. She never cared for them, especially not after Stan. They gave the night glistening teeth that tore her apart far too often for her to be comfortable beneath them.

“Hey, what about darts?” she asked, a good distance away from the pub.

“I pulled Crank in. He can hold his own. Besides, if there’s an angry bartender hunting me down on the base tomorrow, you could probably hold him off for me,” he joked, lightly elbowing her side. “You got one hell of a hook.”

“Stan taught me.”

“He taught you how to fight?”

“Sort of, but he was probably thinking more along the lines of self-defense instead of getting into fights with brick walls.”

“That wall had it coming. If you didn’t punch it, I probably would’ve.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Will you tell that to Chick so he doesn’t kill me tomorrow?”

“He’s not gonna kill you. Might be pissed that his best typist is gonna be out of commission for a few days, though.”

“I can still proofread. Or sort mail. Or—“

“Let me worry about that, alright?”

Holly hesitated. “Alright.”

—————

Bucky had the keys to the Air Exec office, empty for the night, and sat Holly down at her desk. He disappeared for a few minutes, but returned with an armful of peroxide bottles, absorbent cotton, and a roll of gauze. 

“Geez Bucky, don’t waste all of that on me.”

“If I brought you to a nurse, they’d use it on you, anyway.” 

He pulled up a chair, his knees touching hers as he took a closer look at her hand beneath a desk lamp. His eyebrows furrowed as he considered the dried blood, cuts that had already begun to scab over, and a particularly gnarly knuckle that didn’t sit quite right.

“I don’t think it’s broken, but one of your knuckles got dislocated. I’m gonna clean your hand and then pop it back into place.”

“Fuckin’ A,” she said. “I learned that from Stan, too.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“No. Neither did he.”

He snickered, grabbing the peroxide and some cotton. “What was Stan like, anyway? Sounds like an interesting guy from what you told me.”

“Stan was…” She paused. Nobody asked her about Stan. All anyone knew was what little she offered. What was he like? “He cursed like a—well, he was a sailor. Of course he was a Nationals fan. Loved detective novels. We’d have ones we’d read together and see who could figure out the big plot twist first. His front tooth was chipped, but god, he had the best smile. I’m talking serious wattage—“

“Wattage?” Bucky repeated incredulously.

“Okay, I made that up—think electric! He could light up a whole room with just his smile,” she emphasized with a smile of her own. “You know what I mean?”

He glanced up from her hand to her face for a moment. “Yeah, I do.”

“What else…we had this goofy thing going where we’d play tic-tac-toe in our letters to each other. I started doing that because I’m not great at writing letters. I never know what to say, but I wanted him to still look forward to getting them from me.”

“How’d you meet him?”

“I just started secretarial school when he got a job at this fish market up the street from my house. I remember thinking he was so handsome, he almost looked out of place,” Holly said, her voice soft for a moment. “Well, I’d spend so much time there that my mom would complain about how awful I smelled by the time I got home. I asked him out first.”

Bucky laughed. “You’re kidding.”

A wide grin spread across her face. “I wanted to make him mine before he could even think about another girl, so I went in one day and said, ‘When are you gonna take me to see a movie?’ Most guys wouldn’t have liked that, but Stan got a kick out of it. He’d tell the story to anyone who’d listen.” She paused. “I think what really scares me is that at some point, I’ll remember him for longer than I knew him, and I’m always gonna be…like this.”

“I’m gonna set your knuckle back in place now,” Bucky said, his voice low, almost contemplative.

Holly tensed, staring at the ceiling while Bucky pushed against her bruised knuckles. Bone clicked back into place. She groaned. Clenched her good hand into a fist, blinking away tears.

“Barely flinched,” he said. “You’re tougher than you give yourself credit for, doll.” 

She smiled. “Thanks, Bucky.”

They were quiet as he finished bandaging her hand. The room was almost chatty though, buzzing overhead lights, ticking clock on the wall, a leaky pipe somewhere. Among them, a thought broke free from the confines of Bucky’s mind.

“Stan was lucky to have a girl like you waiting for him.”

Glassy brown eyes, wavering with the weight of the world, stared back at him in silence.

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Holly. I shouldn’t have—”

She kissed him, her bandaged hand caressing his cheek. Weeks of silently longing, lusting, and wondering, answered in full as she moved her lips against his. Nearly forgot to kiss her back until he felt her pulling away. 

He placed his hand over her bandaged one, still tenderly cupping his face. The gauze was rough against his skin, a contrast to the pads of her fingers. He curled his fingers around hers, her blunt nails lightly scraping against his cheek.

She gasped against his lips. “John.”

A shiver rolled down his spine as he brushed his thumb over the bandage he’d just finished wrapping, her knuckle that he set back in place for her. All for her. And she kissed him first.

‘I wanted to make him mine.’ 

Mine.

Mine. 

Her dulcet tone echoed in his head until he couldn’t think of anything but kissing her again, offering himself to her as the sole object of her affection. 

Mineminemineminemine. “Holly, baby—” He was trying so hard to be coherent, nearly choking on his words until finally uttering, “I’m all yours.”

[cjhern1109]

Why do you ship Sans x Frisk? As a person who ships them myself, what do you see in them, like about them? Personality traits, situations, tropes etc, anything that comes to mind, what makes you enjoy them and continue to breathe life to them?

So sorry for the long wait, but I had to put a lot of thought into it. Here’s my response:

I was late to the Undertale game actually. Maybe a year later after Toby Fox released the game, not sure. Still, I remember how much my YouTube Page was filled with Undertale content. But I still had little interest cuz I was scared of Sans, mistaking him as a ghost whenever I saw his battle sprite on YouTube Thumbnails. (ya girl was fr scared of ghosts as kid 💀)

But eventually, the YouTube overlords won me over and stumbled on a Soriel comic compilation. It was then I found myself watching another Undertale comic that was more frans centric and BOOM, love at first sight. Literally.

So you can say it was beautiful and wholesome fan art of early Frans shippers that I stayed around since.

And there are so many layers as to why I love Frans so much. One reason being how I love the mystery behind both Sans and Frisk’s backstories and how one can experiment their dynamic within the game. And with the introduction of AUs, more exploration of other dynamics.

It was also this reason that allowed me create Frans AUs (mostly in my head) to understand the world and ideas better when I couldn’t in myself, in particular of the romantic type. To put it simply, Frans had grew to become my source of comfort and creativity.

So when I eventually left the community, questioning my maturity and the “morality” of Frans, I inadvertently found myself struggling with my identity. This was only made worse during the pandemic and all the hell that came with it, along with the sh*t I used to consume in the media.

Eventually, I did get help. Allowing myself to open up once again. Becoming more present with my loved ones so they can understand me better rather than drown deeper in meaningless escapes. However it was still a difficult road, ups and downs, trial and error as they say.

But I felt like I was becoming myself again and found the will to get back to my hobbies as I looked at old fandoms that I enjoyed as a kid. It was around then that I had a deep desire to check up on Frans, to walk down old memories.

…

…

It was then that I cried…

I was home again.

- CJ the Opossum 💜

[indigosunsetao3]

Prompt 25 - Say it again

My submission for for @glitterypirateduck‘s ‘SoapItUp’ challenge. I leave for vacation the 19th so I wanted to submit at least one early. I have other ideas that may come later.

Title: Brutal Bruises

Pairing: Soap X OC (Emma/female)

Warning: This is 18+ only. Contains injuries (nothing too graphic) and hot & heavy teasing.

Summary: Soap and the rest of the team, sans Alex, have returned from their mission after it went wildly off the rails. Alex is still in the hospital recovering while Soap ignored his doctor's advice to stay under observation so he could get back to the base and back to Emma.

This is actually a chunk of chapter 8 from my 20 chapter fic "Would It Be Enough?" that I finished back in November. I honestly love the "say it again" trope/idea/quote what have you so when I saw it won as a prompt I knew I had to join in.

I think the chapter can stand alone without the rest of the story...there's nothing too 'fic-centric' in here as far as background or setup..stuff is recapped/explained that you may need to understand in the chapter itself.

You can find the rest of my story on AO3 if you'd like to read more! It's a slow burn story with a traitor element.

Emma abandoned her pursuit of a change of clothes in her closet when she heard Soap’s voice on the other side of the door. Instead, she turned toward her bed and grabbed the blue shirt there and pulled it roughly over her head. She didn’t care that she wasn’t in a bra and after she double checked to make sure the shirt covered her backside, it went halfway down her thighs, she didn’t bother with pants. She crossed to the door in two steps before yanking it open wide, feeling a bit breathless with her heart hammering in her chest. “Soap,” she breathed as she took him in, the tightness in her body easing a bit at the sight of him.

Soap’s eyes flared when he took in Emma standing there in nothing but his shirt, her hair a tousled mess and legs on full display. “Sorry I’m late,” he said as Emma stood aside to let him come in. Somewhere down the hall a door clicked shut and Soap could hear Gaz dumping his stuff onto the floor of his room. They were all so wiped Soap had done the same, kicking his vest under his bed before going right to Emma’s room, skipping the shower for now. His movements were slow and deliberate, his right hand moving under his jacket to hold his ribs on the left. Each step hurt and he knew that Emma was clocking his grimaces.

Emma assessed Soap as he walked in, her eyes zeroing in on how he was cradling his side and the exhaustion that lined his face. He was in a pair of jeans that were covered in dust and dirt, his shirt underneath the jacket didn’t look much better and Emma could see remnants of black and green war paint in the corner of his eyes and along his hairline. He had ditched most of his gear somewhere before coming to see her but he still had the gun holster strapped around his thigh and Emma spotted a knife hilt poking out of his boot. “What happened?” She asked shutting the door and quickly moving to his side, nudging him toward her bed. He had made to go sit at her desk chair like before but the exhaustion and pain on his face she wouldn’t be surprised if he passed out and she couldn’t catch him before he hit the floor. “Are you alright?” She continued to prod as she watched him sit with a wince.

“I’m fine,” Soap lied as he sat on the bed, his eyes squinting shut for a moment as he shifted back, the pain in his ribs radiating to his back and even up to his jaw. Once he was settled he opened them again to take in Emma who looked a mix between anger and concern with her arms crossed over her chest. He knew she didn’t believe his lie since it was an obvious bad one; he could barely move without pain. “Alex got hurt,” he explained and he saw the panic on her face before quickly adding, “he’s okay now. He’s in a hospital in Sweden for a few more days before they can transfer him safely to your care.” Emma’s face turned to confusion since she had no idea where they had been. That location was the only scrap of information of their whereabouts and she looked like she was going to question more about that but Soap kept talking. “We walked right into an ambush,” Soap continued before moving to shrug off his jacket.

He was able to get the shoulder off and down his right arm but struggled with the left side because of the radiating pain. Without a word Emma quickly bent down to help him, her fingers soft as she pulled back on the material and slid it down his arms, hesitating as Soap screwed up his face in a painful grimace. “Alex took a shot to his lower stomach. Stupid bastard was covering me when I laid down some explosives,” he huffed as Emma pulled the jacket free. If Alex hadn’t covered him, he probably would have been the one shot and injured, or worse. “There was a lot of blood, we could have used you out there,” he added with a small smile as his now free hand went to his side again. “Gaz got it under control though and we were able to get Alex out, Price called in a few old favors. But we couldn’t all leave,” Soap explained, “we weren’t exactly supposed to be there so we couldn’t bring too much attention to ourselves. It was easier to sneak out one man versus five.”

Emma tossed Soap’s jacket, which had a large tear down the back now, onto her desk chair before kneeling down in front of Soap. His stiffness, grimaces and all-around gingerly movement told her that he was hurt more than he had been trying to let on. She wasn’t having it anymore though, she wanted to see and make sure that he wasn’t trying to put on a bravado to cover up something that was actually extremely serious. “Let me see your side,” she interrupted him as he opened his mouth to continue to tell her what happened. Soap tightened his lips at he looked at her and she could tell he was going to be stubborn. “Do not fight me on it because right now I could easily win,” she threatened, her hands reaching out to rest on his thighs waiting.

“Fine,” Soap answered a bit frustrated before he resigned his fight. Emma was the medical professional of the group after all so he may as well let her do her job. “Before you see it, I am fine. I saw a doctor when we took Alex in. Just a couple broken ribs and bruising, it looks worse than it is.” He shifted on the bed and moved to pull his shirt up, moving slowly and precisely.

Before his shirt was even a few inches up Emma could see a huge black and blue mark on Soap’s lower ribs that had angry red splotches around it. She hissed and moved to help him pull the material above his head. He bent forward a bit and pulled his good arm through and Emma winced as he grunted with pain to get his left arm through but she was swift in pulling it off so he could rest his arms down again.

“You call this fine!” Emma exclaimed as she bent the light on her nightstand toward him to get a better look. The bruise was gigantic and his side was such a deep red it looked purple. “They never should have let you leave the hospital like this,” she breathed her fingers gently running over the skin, which was hot to the touch. She was gentle with her feeling, checking for any lumps or obvious broken bones poking under the skin. Luckily, she didn’t find any on an initial feel before pulling back. “You need to get x-rays, get this wrapped, pain meds and rest,” her brain moving right into work mode and she moved to stand up again, pushing up off his thighs with her hands to a standing position. She was taking him to the hospital wing right now, even if she had to drag him there.

“They didn’t want me to leave,” Soap answered her truthfully as he smirked at her instantly going into medical mode. “But I told them as long as I wasn’t dying, I was leaving whether they wanted me to or not. They took x-rays, I have some broken ribs but nothing that’s going to kill me,” he reached his right hand out and grabbed Emma’s wrist before she could get out of range, his thumb brushing over her wrist. “I told them I had someone waiting on me and I was already behind schedule, it’s bad manners to stand a lady up,” he said as he tugged on her wrist to get her to look at him again. He knew it was going to take some convincing to get her to relax again, her need to fix things overpowering everything else.

Emma didn’t pull against his hand as he tugged on her, not wanting to hurt him, but still bent on getting him to the hospital. “You should have stayed Soap,” she breathed as she twisted back around to him. “I could have waited; you could have had Gaz or Crane tell me what happened. You must be in so much pain. I hurt just looking at the marks,” her voice shook on the last few words, the emotions of everything the past few days getting the best of her. The anxiety of not having word of what happened, the relief of seeing him again, the guilt of not being there to help Alex and the horror of how badly Soap had been hurt. He hadn’t even told her how that happened, it looked like he had been hit by a car or fell from a very high height at a minimum.

“I couldn’t wait,” Soap answered simply. He pulled Emma toward him, his booted feet spreading on the floor so she was standing between his legs. Him sitting on the bed while she stood allowed them to be face to face and his eyes roved over her face as he slid his hand up her arm, over shoulder and to her neck before cupping her cheek. He felt her lean into the touch and watched her close her eyes, still internally warring with herself. “I couldn’t wait another day to see you,” he said his thumb gently brushing over her cheek.

“Soap,” Emma responded, her voice half protesting as he tried to distract her, though it was working. She slid her hands up his chest before they came up to rest on his shoulders. She was having a fight with herself to do the right thing, though at the moment being held by him felt like it was the right thing. At his words about not being able to wait to see her Emma to smiled and opened her eyes again to look over his face. Then she caught the bruises on his neck she hadn’t seen before and she wanted yell at him and drag him to the hospital by the ear to get another proper look over. She opened her mouth to fight him again on going to the hospital before he spoke.

“Johnny,” Soap replied as the hand on his hurt side grabbed her hip to pull her fully against him, the hand on her cheek sliding into her hair. Her chest was pressed against him now and he could feel her breath quicken at the touch, at the closeness. “When it’s just us, it’s Johnny,” he explained smiling a bit. He didn’t allow many people to use his actual name, only those he was close with but he wanted to hear her say it. Want to watch her lips as she said his name, moaned it.

“Johnny,” Emma said quietly as she moved her own hands behind his neck to slide down his back. She had known his name since she had seen his file but never tried to use it because none of the other guys did, least not that she had heard. It felt nice though to actually call him by his name, more intimate than a nickname, more intimate than just colleagues.

“There it is,” Soap said before he closed the gap between them and kissed her slowly. “Say it again,” he murmured against her lips, his own curved into a smile she could feel. His hands tightened to hold her firmly against him, as if now that he had her, he wasn’t going to ever let her go. With her body molded against his he could feel through the thin material of the shirt that she had on underwear but no bra, her breasts pushed up against his bare chest. He nearly hummed with excitement at the thought of seeing just what was under the shirt, his shirt, as he gently kissed her again.

Emma inhaled sharply as Soap kissed her, her fingers on his back curling for a moment to dig into the skin before releasing quickly not wanting to hurt him. She had seen the bruises on his side and near his neck but she hadn’t seen his back and could only wonder how bad it could possibly be. At his request to say his name again she smiled before breathing his name against his lips which had given him the opening he wanted to sweep his tongue in. She met his movements with her own and she could feel the hand at her hair tightening into a fist, as if it were restraint to keep himself in check. She nearly groaned at the gentle tugging of her hair, the subtle control he was exerting as he held her so tightly against his body she could barely move, let alone breathe.

That line that she had been so worried about crossing before he had left for this dangerous mission was gone. They had both obliterated it without hesitation, and to be honest she felt it was only a matter of time before they stepped over it. Emma had a feeling it happened sooner rather than later because of what had happened over the past few days. The fact they had gone without seeing one another for over a week after a charged last conversation caused the desire to build. Then there was the fear of the mission running long and Soap almost losing one of his best friends that brought mortality to the forefront.

They were both growing breathless at the kissing and Emma could feel a heat between her legs that was demanding some sort of release. Emma could also feel Soap had grown hard under his jeans, it was pushing against her stomach and she involuntarily huffed thinking about what it would be like to finally get him naked. Ever so slowly, still not ready to stop kissing him, Emma slid her arms back up over his shoulders and to his chest where she gently nudged him, keeping her palms far away from his bruises. Soap’s hands loosened on her instantly and he pulled back, his eyes looking onto hers in a searching manner, the blue iris’ barely visible from his lust blown pupils.

“Everything alright?” He asked, concern evident in his voice as his chest heaved to catch his breath. He seemed to have forgotten everything that had happened to him, or was ignoring the pain, as he shifted a bit on the bed.

“Everything is fine Johnny,” Emma said, not really recognizing the huskiness in her voice, “I promise I’ll tell you if it isn’t.” She smiled at the genuinely happy grin that spread across his features at her saying his name, a smile she could get used to. “Scoot back on the bed,” she instructed and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, hesitating for only a moment, before using his feet on the floor to move himself back. The rubber of his boots squeaked on the linoleum floor at the movements and her eyes shot down to them, completely forgetting that he was still half dressed. “Hang on,” she said and she knelt down to remove them.

“Lass, don’t,” Soap protested, realizing what Emma was about to do. He leaned forward to do it himself but cursed and straightened back up instantly, his hand going to his side. His ribs were not going to allow him to bend down and do it without pain and Emma knew that. “Just leave them,” he protested and reached a hand down under her chin to try and coax her back up to him. He didn’t want her undressing him, not like that anyway, it felt infantile.

“I don’t want your dirty boots in my bed,” Emma replied with a smirk as she undid the knot on the first boot one and quickly unlaced it then moved to the other. She allowed him to kick them off himself, giving him a little independence, and they fell to the floor with a clatter. The knife that had been in one of them slid under the bed in its sheath. “Or your dirty pants,” she added as she stood up and looked at the jeans which had definitely seen better days.

She was going to be the death of him Soap thought as her hands moved up to his thigh to undo the gun holster he hadn’t bothered to remove earlier. Her movements were deliberate, her fingers grabbing his upper leg and twisting it to the side a bit to get on his inner thigh to undo a clip. He was pretty sure she was going slow on purpose because she had a thigh holster of her own that she snapped on and off without even looking at it. It was fucking sexy to watch her prep a gun, holster it, unholster it and unload a clip into a target. Gaz had teased him to no end when he caught Soap adjusting himself after one target practice they all did as a group, laughing all the way to lunch and smirking at him randomly the rest of the day.

“I’m not going to be able to,” he started to explain about his pants but Emma looked up at him already knowing. Fuck, the way she looked at him from under her lashes was going to cause him to combust right there. With fumbling fingers, like a goddamn teenager, he undid his belt, button and zipper as she watched him. The gun holster finally freed dropped unceremoniously onto the floor.

“Lift up,” Emma instructed as she slid her hands up his legs, her fingers digging into the waist band of his jeans and tugging once he finally had everything undone. Soap was extremely aware of every place she was touching him, her fingertips grazed the bare skin of his hips above his boxers before she gripped the denim and pulled the material down. The jeans slid down a bit but not enough and she pulled again as Soap groaned at the effort to hold himself up, the twisting and adjusting was putting strain on his injuries. Emma didn’t take her time like she had done purposely with the holster and a final tug had the pants loose and down his legs. Soap kicked them off himself as well, the belt clanking on the floor a little too loudly. He hoped Gaz had passed out when he hit the bed or he was going to be able to piece together everything that was happening.

Now that there were no jeans to constrain him Emma saw just how turned-on Soap was under his boxers and she grinned before flicking her eyes back up to his face. He was watching her, his fists curled into the bedsheets before he reached out and grabbed at the collar of her shirt to pull her toward him. Emma let him lead her forward as she crawled onto the bed to meet him before throwing a leg over his to straddle his lap. His back was now pushed up against the wall for support and Emma searched his face for a moment more, before she leaned back into kiss him again.

Soap’s hands moved around to her backside and without hesitation he grabbed her ass and pulled her tight against him, groaning deep in his throat at the friction he had just created. Emma had also gasped into his mouth at the contact made on her center and he pulled on her ass again to get her to roll her hips onto him. She didn’t need to be told a third time; she undulated her hips on her own and one of his hands slid up her back to rest between her shoulder blades to keep her trapped against him. His hand fisted the back of the shirt which pulled it tight against her chest, making her hardened nipples visible.

“Fuck,” he uttered against her already panting lips. His voice drawn out on the vowel until the word was almost a hiss. The fingers of his hand that were still on her ass curled into the soft skin of her backside, though it was still on top of the shirt not wanting to push her too far too fast. “Emma,” he muttered as she whimpered against him, her hips moving faster but still careful to not hurt him. She pulled out of the kiss to breathe for a moment before she bit his lower lip gently and tugged softly, another groan escaping her as her clit ground down hard on him. “You’re going to end it before we can even get started if you keep doing that,” he responded to the bite, before moving to kiss along her jaw then down to her neck.

Emma arched her neck to the side to give him better access as his kisses slid down her jaw to her neck and right to that sensitive spot where it met her shoulder. She was breathing hard and could feel how wet she had become from just making out and dry humping like high schoolers. Had it really been that long since she had been with someone that just this little attention got that rise out of her? Or was it Soap? Her mind was too fogged to think on it just yet, her current focus on his mouth sucking on her skin, but she was pulled away from any thought at all when he nipped at her causing her to jump slightly.

“I didn’t tell you to stop moving, did I?” Soap asked curiously, his hand moving her hip impatiently as he licked over the spot he had just bitten. Soap was doing his best to leave a small subtle mark, one that would blend in with the other bruises that peppered her skin. He had seen the marks all over her legs and arms, bruises from Ghost training her he knew, and he wanted to leave his own. He would have a discussion with Ghost later about how rough he had been, but that could wait. He didn’t want to think about his lieutenant touching Emma right now.

She groaned again as she leaned her head back and continued to glide her hips over his, her ministrations continuing to build up the tension low in her stomach. Emma gripped his shoulders hard, knowing her nails were going to leave little divots in his skin as he shuddered a breath into her neck, his breathing almost a pant now. The thin layers of fabric between them weren’t leaving much to the imagination and Emma dared to glance down between them to just watch herself move on him. Imagining what it would look like when there were no barriers and he was buried inside of her.

The shirt had bunched up to her hips at this point and her bright white underwear was on display against the strain of his black boxers. Soap took that moment to rest his forehead on her shoulder to glance down as well, a growl forming in his throat as he spotted the wet patch that had spread between her legs, causing a darker patch on the otherwise pristine white material. “Fucking hell Emma,” he rumbled as he took it in, knowing that he had done that to her, “all that for me?”

Emma felt a blush on her cheeks but she wasn’t going to let it get the best of her. “Yes,” she answered boldly, slowing her hips so he could get a better look and the answering feral grin from him nearly had her falling to pieces. His hand that was on her hip pulling her to move slid to the top of her thigh and his thumb ran up the inside of it painstaking slow, causing Emma to stop moving all together to watch in with needy expectation. His thumb continued going up, up, up, Emma feeling every slight movement as if his thumb were on fire. Soap hooked the top of his thumb just under the edge of the elastic strip, hesitated as he watched Emma’s face and how she bit her lip in anticipation before he moved away his thumb away again, too quickly.

Emma let out a small noise of disappointment which earned a chuckle from Soap, “impatient,” he admonished as his thumb swiped back up again slowly then back down just as quick as the first time. “But you’re going to have to wait a little bit longer before I strip you bare and get you under me,” he explained before moving to kiss her lips again. At that Emma leaned away to protest his latest statement and he scoffed at her, narrowing his eyes before the hand at her back went to her hair to pull her to him to kiss her.

“I’m not going to have the first time I get you naked be when I can barely move to fuck you properly,” Soap growled against her lips and he felt her melt into him at that, she apparently enjoyed his filthy mouth, something he noted for next time. “I’m going to take my time when I do it,” he breathed as he rested his forehead against hers as he looked her right in the eyes, which were heavily lidded. He wanted to watch her reactions, see what his words and fingers did to her, even above the fabric.

His thumb went back to its ministrations, sliding back up her thigh and feeling goosebumps. “I’m going to make you squirm,” his thumb slid away again, dragging his nail lightly over the sensitive skin. “Make you beg me,” his thumb went back up and stopped right at the elastic, “and make you come multiple times. Until you can’t walk. Or talk from screaming my name over and over.”

At that last sentence Soap saw Emma’s eyes flare and he wanted to feel how wet she was, his own self-imposed restraint wearing on him. Swiftly, Soap moved his hand so his index finger brushed right against her clit over the fabric of her underwear. She was completely soaked and he hummed at the feel of it, knowing he had done that to her and she was more than ready for him. The light touch caused Emma to moan loud enough that she bit down hard on her lip to stifle it, and Soap grinned as he gently circled his finger knowing the touch was torturously light.

Emma thought she was going to climax right there. Just his words and his teasing touches were enough to put her right on that edge, that low feeling in her stomach almost ready to be unleashed. Then he kept gently kept circling his finger over her to the point was she struggling hard to keep the sounds to herself. She was silently praying Gaz was asleep or had his headphones in and not being tortured with this. “When?” She asked, her voice practically begging as she shifted her hips not so subtly to get more pressure from his finger which he obliged, running it down to her center before coming back up again and pressing down right where she wanted it. Fuck, just a little more and she knew she would see stars.

“When my doctor says I can,” he answered unhelpfully knowing full well it was her job to clear him for active duty, and to get into her bed. “Good thing I know my doctor would never let me do anything strenuous until I’m fully healed.” Soap said as he pulled his hand away for the final time and rested it atop her leg, his fingertips gripping her legs lightly.

[siphersaysstuff]

LOCKTOBER!

It's "Locktober", a month entirely about Dinobot leader GRIMLOCK! I mean, what else could it be? So let's close in on some of the plastic toys of the Autobot warrior who simply won't be restrained in this month's batch of Patron-backed @tfwiki pictures!

Sadly, I don't have wiki-worthy samples of the first Grimlock toy, G1 or G2 (also I'd want all 3 G2 decos represented). But here's the Action Master, the fourth release of the character in the original toyline. He came with an "Anti-tank cannon" partner/drone (bonus pic!).

Robots in Disguise 2001 Grimlock, named to secure the Trademark, is one of the most awkward Transformers toys ever made. Them arms, man. This yellow deco was a Hasbro exclusive, released in a post-RID 4-pack of the entire Build Team on Black Friday 2003. Thank you for preserving the name.

The only Unicron Trilogy Grimlock wasn't even originally supposed to be in that series! The Energon Grimlock & Swoop toys (who can combine into Mega-Dinobot) were originally meant to be in the concurrently-running Universe line, but got shifted to the combination-centric Energon.

Grimlock was a natural choice to be in the very limited 2006 Classics line, though him being a Deluxe baffled many. Still, for my money this is a great redesign. I can just see him biting down on a Decepticon, pinning him to the floor, and transforming to stand directly on top of him.

Grimlock made a splash in Animated, though his role and number of toys ended up being pretty limited overall. Still, aside from the big Voyager toy, there's the smaller Activator version, with a partially-spring-loaded conversion activated by pressing the gold button on his dino-butt.

Shattered Glass Grimlock started as a brainless beast. But the pre-convention "prank" comic pages by @therobotmonster and myself portrayed him as highly intelligent and verbose, inspired by the Brain Gremlin from "Gremlins 2". Which went over so well that's how he ended up in later SG stories!

Weirdly, it took some time for Grimlock to show up in the Kre-O building-brick line. The first were Age of Extinction sets, including one with an inexplicable G1-based build and Kreon in the "Grimlock Unleashed" set! G1 Grim also showed up in the "Kreon Class of '85" San Diego Comic Con 2015 exclusive set.

Speaking of Age of Extinction Grimlock, one of the oddest toys of this version of the character is this Walmart-exclusive redeco of the ten-year-old Energon Cruellock mold! The "energon star" accessory has been glued into place to hide that the toy lacks its "spark crystal".

And speaking of weird Grimlocks, Angry Birds Transformers! The app's still going, what the hell? It briefly had actual toys, which included this Jenga-branded "Optimus Prime Attack Game" set with a Grimlock Bird Jenga frame! And yes, this thing is in the mobile game. In both, the goal is to knock out as many tummy bricks and pigs as possible.

The large "Hyper Change Heroes" 3-Step version of Robots In Disguise 2015 Grimlock is possibly the perfect-scale dino-mode toy compared to his teammates' Warrior-class toys (def a bit too big in robot mode)… but ooh, does he take a big hit in robot-mode posability and accuracy from the waist down.

Cyberverse "Spark Armor" Grimlock came with a "Trash Crash" dump truck that forms incredibly bulky armor for him. Interchangeability of the Spark Armors has not been extensively tested to the best of my (admittedly limited) knowledge on the subject.

Of course, G1 Grimmers gets loads of merch. He's currently the only TF to have two wholly-different molds in Super7's ReAction retro action figure line, with both robot and dino mode figs. This G2-colored (but not G2-symbol'd, boo) figure was one of many, many Target exclusive ReAction figs.

Let's end on the "ultimate" G1 Grimlock (well, non-Masterpiece version, though one can argue which of those two is truly "ultimate"), Studio Series! He came with a semi-posable Wheelie figure, so when his price point was inevitably budget-cut, the "partner" fig could be dropped, a sacrifice so the later Dinobots could still afford AN accessory.

If you enjoy these stomps through Transformers toy history, you can help out by joining my Patreon at "gregstfwikipics". Every little bit helps get more pics out a month, plus at higher pledge tiers you can even pick a theme!

[empressawesomecoolness]

Doctor Who: The Ultimate Speedrun Marathon - 1996 TV Movie

Ok, I was warned this one was basically locked behind endless streaming paywalls or was otherwise just lost media. I was a little discouraged, so I was ready to just crack on with Series 1, but then I found the whole damn thing on YouTube. Lucky!

General Thoughts

Paul McGann was a ton of fun as the 8th Doctor! He was obviously having a ton of fun in the role, which I’m sure he must have been a fan of. He’s since retuned to the role in cameo appearances and such years later, so his infectious love of the material is apparent. I’m not sure if he was aware that his tenure as the Doctor would be relatively short, but he really makes the most of it. I also love his look! It’s a fun missing link from the campier looks of the OG Doctors into the more modern/tactical looks of the modern Doctors. I also liked the detail that his clothes were basically just a Halloween costume he stole after he woke up from his regeneration. Really clever.

Speaking of his regeneration, it was fun to see Sylvester McCoy return for an extended cameo as the 7th Doctor. I haven’t seen his Seasons yet, but I was familiar with him from The Hobbit and Sense8, so I really just like him as an actor. He’s also evidently having a lot to fun here, despite only about 20 minutes of screen time. As a newer fan, I’d say this is a great introduction to the fun of the Doctor’s personality and purpose in the modern era, as well as carrying the torch from the OGs.

I was really surprised by the setting being 1999 San Francisco, considering this is a pretty famously Anglo-centric show. It must have been a fun breath of fresh air at the time for fans, but I also enjoyed it as a new fan. It had a fun ‘90s neo-noir vibe to it that ‘90s England or some fictional future realm maybe couldn’t have gotten cross just right. (Also, idk if this is canonically the Doctor’s first visit to America, but I just found it funny that as soon as he steps out of the TARDIS onto American soil for the first time, he gets shot.)

Moving onto the Doctor’s companion this time around, we’ve got Daphne Ashbrook as Dr. Grace Holloway. She’s smart and resourceful and overall just really cool. An underrated companion, in my opinion. Her introduction in this movie is probably one of my favorite things about the franchise so far! She’s first referred to in the story as “Amazing Grace” by a fellow surgeon, followed by her having to rush into the 7th Doctor’s surgery straight from an opera house, all while still wearing her gown. Iconic.

Her relationship with the Doctor and her chemistry with Paul McGann is a ton of fun. They’re (for the most part) intellectually matched, so it’s fun to see the Doctor have a literal Dr to bounce off of. I do wish she had accepted the supernatural sci-fi truth of it all a bit sooner, cuz her having to come to terms with that takes up a good chunk of the runtime, but once she’s in the thick of it, she’s able to carry her weight. Also, idk if this is correct so feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but Grace and the 8th Doctor appear to be the only Doctor/companion pair that are romantic with one another. idk how this aspect is liked among the fans, but I personally didn’t mind it. They’re quite cute together, so you really root for them.

Now for the villain. I know nothing of the Master so far, aside from the obvious that he’s an evil Time Lord who can also regenerate, albeit not as successfully, since the conflict of the movie is the Master trying to steal the Doctor’s lives after he uses up his own. I thought he was cool enough, and as a horror fan, his wormy-possession form reminded me a lot of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday. I assume he’ll return as a big bad later on, but he’s a little one note here. He gets the job done, and Eric Roberts is obviously having a lot of fun chewing the evil scenery.

Favorite Moments

The Doctor’s little “these shoes fit perfectly!” was cute lol

Just one look at my blog will show anyone that I’m a massive Frankenstein fan, so the parallels drawn between the monster’s reanimation to the Doctor’s regeneration was super cool. Paul McGann also plays it really big! His “Who am I?!” dramatic moment after he comes back to life is classic monster-movie cool. Very Boris Karloff of him.

The one hospital orderly reacting to the 7th Doctor’s body disappearing by saying “You think he got up and went to a better HOSPITAL???” was so fucking funny oh my god

The look of the TARDIS’ interior appears to be carried over from how it looked for the 7th Doctor, but it fits the 8th Doctor so well. It’s like a gothic mansion, which just clicks so well with 8’s overall vibe.

The setting being at the direct turn of the millennium into Y2K was genius! It was sooo sooo cool I loved it

Paul McGann and Daphne Ashbrook are sexy as hell I need them so bad

Overall, Doctor Who 1996 is a fun and stylish entry! Highly recommend for those who haven’t seen it yet.

Now, that’s it for the 8th Doctor for the time being. Onto the modern era show, starting with Christopher Eccleston taking the reigns as #9.

[hongherbac]

[Serizawa centric] The Humanity of S&S - Chapter 1

Read it on AO3

Chapter: 1/6

Fandom: モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Non-Romantic Relationships: Seirizawa Katsuya & Reigen Arataka & Dimple

Characters: Seirizawa Katsuya, Reigen Arataka, Dimple, OC

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Battle (would be there in CH5), Canon Compliant

Summary: There were always some difficulties in life. Serizawa sometimes fell into self doubt, and he was not the only one who found their own answer in the journey.

(Serizawa's new classmate strongly questioned his occupation decision and judgment, then used some dirty tactics to poach him.)

Notes: I wrote the Chinese version of this in May, And I'm translating it during the small breaks while working on my WIP.

Now this work seems somewhat immature to me, but I remember having a lot of fun writing it, and I think it's still worth sharing. I mean, I can never get enough of Serizawa and Reigen hurt/comfort content.

Updates might be slow, but I will definitely finish it sooner or later!

Chapter 1

"Let me introduce you to Ido Sayuu. He has just transferred here and will start attending classes today. Please make him feel welcome. Ido, would you like to say a few words?"

The man in the white shirt took a step forward and bowed to the classroom.

"My name is Ido. Ido Sayuu. I moved to Seasoning City because the company planned to open a branch here. Thanks to the help of many people, I was able to enroll in school in the middle of the semester. I'm looking forward to studying with you."

The classroom applauded sparingly, as a simple gesture of courtesy. For these working adults with other priorities in life, a transfer student is nothing to get excited about. There was a tall, tanned, muscular boy writing furiously, taking his time to fill in the numbers for today's assignment. There was also a girl, her heavy makeup already a bit loose, looking down at her cell phone's text message, pondering the client's request.

Among these people, Serizawa was not special at all.

He clapped his hands enthusiastically, welcoming the new night school student. Like the others, he came straight from work in his work clothes. Serizawa had always been careful to iron his shirts and keep them neat and tidy, but he didn't notice a small burn hole from the evil spirit's residue. People would probably think it was from smoking, even though he didn't really smoke. They had borrowed the classroom at Salt Middle School for a while because their usual classroom was being renovated. His knees ached under the small desk.

"Ito-san, you must be in a very high position, right?"

At the end of the class, a man who was also an employee of the company spoke to the transfer student.

"You said the company was 'planning to open a branch,' so it's still in the preparation stage." Another student also came over excitedly, "You've been assigned to handle the expansion at this time. Let me guess, are you the future branch manager?"

"Ah, no," Ito scratched his head, "Actually, the expansion hasn't been finalized yet, although I think it's pretty much decided… I moved here for a few months to really check out the business environment. After all, I'm not sure I'd be comfortable leaving such a big decision to the people under me."

"Huh?"

"Eh?"

Ito took out his business cards, and handed them over with a smile, "I'm the president of Ito Parts Manufacturing. Nice to meet you."

=====

Inside the office of Spirits & Such, the blinds were partially open, allowing stripes of sunlight to stream in and brighten the room.

"So, there came a company president in your class…."

Reigen leaned back in his chair, his laptop open in front of him, and a small pile of edamame shells piled up on the table. He had obviously been idle for quite some time.

"There were really all kinds of people in your class."

"Yes. Everyone does different things during the day. It's amazing." Serizawa said enthusiastically, "Even though Suzuki-san, Reigen-san and Ito-san are all company presidents, each of you gave a completely different impression. I don't know Ito-san very well yet, but he must be an outstanding person as well.

"Nah, you're thinking too much," Reigen waved his hand dismissively, "Anyone can be a president these days, as long as they have money. All you have to do is come up with a few thousand dollars, fill out some papers and register with the government. Then, BOOM! You're president."

"That's right. Look at this guy: no brains, no leadership. He's been doing fine for years."

"Hey! DImple!"

"I have looked into Ito Parts Manufacturing," Serizawa said. "A business magazine reported that Ito-san started with nothing at first. He took over a dying factory, saved it from bankruptcy, and turned it into a publicly traded company in just three years."

"Ha! He's not on the same level with Reigen at all! You are wayyyyyy behind.” Dimple laughed.

"Serizawa… now, listen carefully." Reigen looked extremely serious all of a sudden, and his tone was prudent, "It's very important to connect with your classmates. You all missed out on your youth for some reason, and this is a great opportunity to make up for it! You're all in the same boat, so you can be good partners and support each other! Ito-san is new at school. Although he doesn't show it, he must have a lot of unfamiliar difficulties. Why don't you give him a hand? Also, if he has any problems, ask him to visit us for help, will you? We will do our best to provide service!"

Dimple squinted at Reigen. His face twisted, eyes widened with excitement, nostrils flared and puffed out, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but lift in a grin. The word 'greedy' was written bright and clear across his entire face.

"O-okay. I get it." Serizawa was a bit confused, but still took the advice carefully. He scratched his head, "I'm not very good at connecting with my classmates…. But since Reigen-san said it's important, I'll try my best."

-Knock, knock.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Finally, we have a visitor." Reigen put aside his selfish desires, straightened his tie and said, "Serizawa, go greet them, please."

"Yes, sir."

Serizawa went to the door, where he politely welcomed a worried, awkward, middle-aged man. His hair was thinning, face wrinkled, deeply furrowed with worry, and the steps were hesitant and heavy. The man was invited to sit on the sofa. A small plate of pastries lay on the coffee table in front of him. From the back of the room, there came the sound of Serizawa boiling hot water for tea.

The man lifted his head and looked at Reigen.

Reigen stared at the client solemnly without hurrying. He kept his mouth closed, as if to say silently, "I know. You're so troubled, so anxious. Usually you scoff at the supernatural, but now you have to seek help. This is embarrassing. Yes, I understand. But it doesn't matter any more. Because I, Reigen, the greatest psychic of the 21st century, will do my best to help you!"

At the same time, Dimple floated behind the office desk, picking up and eating the edamame that Reigen had just swept onto the floor. What a waste! But worry not. Dimple, the most powerful evil spirit of S&S, would do his best to help.

"Well… How should I put it? It might scare you…"

The client finally stammered.

"Please… Please don't be terrified. But I think my little girl is… possessed! By an evil spirit!"

That’s quite ordinary. Serizawa thought to himself and served the hot tea.

"What did you say!!!!" Reigen shouted loudly. Serizawa startled, almost spilled the tea. "Are you saying an evil spirit possession? This is very serious…!! The evil spirits that can possess humans are mostly very malevolent. They are energy carriers filled with resentment and obsession which can severely affect the person possessed, both physically and mentally. If not handled properly, you and your family may be in great danger."

"Is it really that serious?" The client also raised his voice, sweating profusely, "My god! I should have come sooner. This evil spirit is killing my whole family! My daughter is getting thinner and thinner. My wife was in poor health already, and now she is even more and more emaciated. I really don't know what to do… Master, please help us!"

"Well, there's still hope. You came to me just  in time." Reigen rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward attentively, "Please, tell me everything."

…bla bla bla this and that

…bla bla bla bla

"I see. I have fully understood the situation. The evil spirit sounds very strong. I have to make some preparations first, then I'll visit you in a few days to perform the exorcism. How about… two days later? In the afternoon? Is that alright? Well then, please have a look at our price list. If you want the best results, I highly recommend this package."

After sending off the client, Serizawa collected the tea cups and dessert plates on the tray and took them to the sink. He opened his small notebook, carefully wrote down the client's phone number and address, and marked the date of the visit on his calendar.

"Ha-ah…" Reigen yawned widely, stretching his previously upright body, "I guess that’s it for today. You're off in less than an hour. You can leave early if you want. There's nothing left to do anyway."

"Thank you, Reigen-san. But can I stay here before night school? I have a civics assignment, and I thought I'd take the time to work on it."

"Suit yourself." Reigen shrugged, "Civics you say? Like helping old ladies cross the street?"

"The teacher did talk about morality, but maybe because we are all working adults, he emphasized more on legal knowledge. Like in this assignment, I have to look up some statutes. It's quite difficult for me."

"It’s really inconvenient to look up information on the cell phone. Do you want to use my computer?"

"Oh, can I? But don't you have to work on that?"

"How can you work all day? I'm going to watch some TV. You can use the laptop as you like. But remember, DO NOT delete my files, and DO NOT click on those suspicious websites. Got it?"

"That would be a big help! Thank you, Reigen-san!"

Reigen flopped down on the sofa, crossed his legs, grabbed the remote and began aimlessly flipping through channels. So… what should he watch now? Reigen was not interested in serial dramas at all. He could tell the plot two hundred episodes ahead just by watching the first fifteen minutes… Hmm? This bag of edamame was almost done. Did he really eat that much?

At this moment, Serizawa sat in Reigen's usual place with his homework and stationery. He held the mouse and double-clicked on the web browser, then suddenly realized that Reigen still had the memory tab function on.

"Ah! …"

[jjtheresidentbaby]

could you do some quinn from heartbreak high little headcannons :)

Little Quinni Gallagher-Jones headcanons

♡ you can find flip quinni headcanons here & more little quinni headcanons here

warnings: !!season 2 spoilers!!, talk of canon events/canon typical events, sasha & spider redemption <3, friendship issues (idk sry yall I just think even after the finale quinni deserves some different friends)

even after her, darren & amerie fix things, quinni still doesn’t feel fully secure in her friendship so she tries to branch out a bit

sasha mainly takes care of her but when she starts to regress around missy she also gets looked over by spider a few times

quinni, sasha, missy, spider & ant become a friend group of sorts but sometimes ant is hanging out with harper so he’s not around as much - but he also drags harper to their hang outs so she’s sort of part of the group

she finds that her new friends are much more accommodating to her regression & her autism

but her regression in particular is what makes quinni feel better

it’s not that her old friends ever made her feel bad about regressing but they definitely didn’t gush and spoil quinni the way her new friends do

spider & sasha in particular go all in on spoiling her, and missy or ant if they’re regressed too

they’re much more willing to watch over her no matter what than her old friends were

instead of being disappointed when they have to cancel/change certain plans because quinni’s regressed they look just as excited about watching her as they did the original plans- it definitely makes quinni feel more comfortable around them while small

missy & spider also use her regressing as an excuse to leave school early anytime they can

many many impromptu arcade visits & beach trips & ice cream outings take place because they all leave school early while quinni’s small

sasha always argues that leaving quinni at school when she’s regressed is mean because she’d have to sit through classes she’s too little for so they have to leave - honestly quinni’s just happy to get free snacks & to spend time with her friends

her room becomes more regression-centric than it was before

she used to keep most of her toys (sans stuffed animals) under her bed or in her closet but at some point sasha tells her it’s useless to shove them all away because she’ll just have to pull them out again and sasha nearly got stuck under the bed last time one of quinni’s dolls was too far back for her to reach

eventually spider & malakai come over and put up new shelves for her to display some of her toys on and missy & sasha buy her new cloth bins to organize them into

she gets spider into Angeline of the Underworld and it’s all over from there

anytime quinni’s regressed and spider’s watching her they’re spending hours reading the books or watching fan-made animatic videos on youtube or talking lore and their own headcanons

missy & sasha will join in occasionally as they know some of the plots per listening to quinni & spider talk so much but they usually have to walk away because things get too specific and they have no idea what’s going on

quinni tries to get ant into it the same way she got spider into it but he more so just likes to look at the pictures when he’s small and can’t keep his attention span focused on it while big

when there’s another book signing all of her friends go with her to it

they make an entire day out of it, quinni can’t be happier and especially when she slips halfway through the day and nobody gets upset about having to care for her

they simply assess what’s best for her, if going home would be better or not, but settle on staying at the book signing and then going to get some food before going home

quinni may or may not cry happy tears later on when she’s alone for having such supportive friends but that’s for her to know

[emilycollins00]

Getting there (Tenma centric)

Igawa is not Tenma’s father.

And yet, he ends up caring about him like one— he’s a bit awkward about it though.

OR three times Igawa is there for Tenma, and one time Tenma steps up for him.

Anyone that sets foot inside the acting world in Japan knows what type of power comes from the Sumeragi’s agencies.

Premium status. Fame. Validation.

One of the best of the current generation according to the media. Their buildings and workers emanate class, authority, and it wasn’t easy to manage a job there— which is why many agreed one could be called lucky just to be considered.

Igawa adjusts the collar of his suit. Ignores the prominent beating of his heart. Pushes his glasses up his nose. Repeats it all over. He is conscious how much sweat he is producing with only empty chairs staring back at him, and wonders if it would be possible to ask for a cup of water without crying.

How in the world he had managed to get so far was still out of his comprehension. A blur. After the first shock, a few more interviews and some phone calls, today was the day he would sign the final contract to become Sumeragi Tenma’s personal manager and guardian, the agreement outlining the terms of a two-year commitment and providing an option for renewal.

That is if he managed to leave the room without having a panic attack.

He stirs in his seat, taking for the sixth time a look at his watch, anxiety rising. Seven past ten. They hadn’t guided him into the wrong room, had they? As a test?

Oh god, he really hopes not.

Just when the young man is contemplating the idea of discretely checking the number of the room the door swings right open behind him, barely giving him time to swallow his scream. Two figures enter while he scrambles to get up and bow, drying his sweaty hands on the back of his pants.

“Igawa, I presume.”

“Y-yes, sir! I- it’s a pleasure!”

The man in front of him nods, taking his hand in a strong grip. “Thank you for waiting longer than necessary. I was needed to sign some documents before coming here and they took longer than expected.” His face is stoic and his voice profound while they shake hands.

“Oh, no! Not a problem!”

There was something about Sumeragi Eiji that instilled respect even from afar. But having the real deal in front of you? Downright terrifying. His acting had been leading the masses for many years. One wrong move and you could be done soon enough, to which Igawa imagined extended to his son.

His son.

It’s right there when Igawa takes his first good look at Sumeragi Tenma.

At the ripe old age of ten, Tenma is of course shorter than him. He seems to feel his gaze, because not even a heartbeat later the boy lifts his head up to meet Igawa’s— piercing, captivating purple eyes focused in a way the young man had never seen before in a kid.

"Tenma, this is the man your mother and I informed you about. He’ll be your manager and act as your guardian while we are abroad for the time being."

The young boy nods, half of his face twisted up as he keeps staring at Igawa thoughtfully. He wasn’t the son of two the current biggest celebrities in the country for nothing. "Nice to meet you, Igawa-san. I will be in your care."

His voice is childlike, although there is a slight effort being put on a low-pitched tone. The clear attempt to sound more mature, maybe trying to imitate his father’s powerful voice. Igawa nods and bows as quickly and politely as possible. "L-likewise! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you too, Tenma-kun." he holds his hand out awkwardly towards him, and they shake hands. “I’ll be in your care from now on.”

.

.

.

It doesn’t take Igawa long to learn the young actor exudes an aura that inherently draws others, just like the rumors said. His rising fame is an ongoing talk in the media— never seen another child actor behave more like an adult, treating every co-worker with the seriousness and respect they all displayed.

“He really is perfect!”

“Eiji-san must be proud.”

“Could we have some words from the upcoming young star of this movie?”

Of course, Igawa also comes to notice certain walls. Given his status and young age, Tenma was many times unaware that not everyone shared his privilege, which left many of his remarks about others seem cruel and hurtful. It was difficult, to try to explain the difference between honestly and bluntness.

Still, Tenma was a good kid with a dream he was determined to reach. Seeing how Tenma pushed forward to improve, hanging on to any advice or criticism he received from veteran actors or directors with a spiteful passion, practicing his movements or voice projection for hours after his personal instructors had left— all that effort made Igawa want to support him the best he could.

Which makes the time he failed to enter his planned middle school such a big deal.

They had just renewed Igawa’s contract a few weeks prior, meaning he had been able to feel once again an incredible mix of confusion, appreciation, and horror at the same time. The amount of press recognition Tenma had gotten over the years was more than many had expected. Although not his parents, apparently. They kept sending him emails with offers and used their connections daily, which made passing the entrance exam for middle school a much bigger issue than the ordinary person.

“Tenma-kun?! Tenma-kun, can you hear me!”

Igawa would have never expended the young boy to run away from the school grounds like that. Maybe— maybe he hadn’t made himself clear? Tenma was supposed to wait for him inside the car as he signed some documents so once he entered the vehicle and found it empty, it only took him less than a minute for his anxiety to spike through the sky.

Oh my god.

They had just renewed his contract and he had already lost his actor.

"Tenma-kun! Tenma-kun!!"

Igawa calls out of breath as he looks around desperately, gaining looks from other passers-by. For the first time he doesn’t take notice of being the center of attention or rather, he doesn’t even notice. How could he? He has no idea whatsoever where his twelve-year-old genius child actor, who captivates masses way beyond his regular piers, could probably have gone.

The thought makes Igawa want to vomit.

It’s only fifteen minutes later, just when Igawa is on the verge of having a breakdown and calling the police when he catches a glimpse of familiar hair. Tenma is sitting on a bench, looking exhausted and a little worse for wear. His shoulders are hunched and jaw set as he meets him. "Igawa...?"

“Tenma-kun!”

The young boy starts to rise as the Igawa runs in his direction, all his strength fading away. He can’t even manage to pretend to be angry, just confused. “I-I’ve been looking for you for…! Why did you suddenly leave like that?!”

“What do you mean?” Tenma frowns. “I left a message in the car saying I was going back home alone. Didn’t think you would come to look for me.”

“The car…? But— you, I didn’t think you—” Igawa doesn’t know how to explain this without damaging his confidence. “Tenma-kun this is… the opposite, um, way. I’m afraid…”

They stare at each other, and seconds later the young boy’s cheeks redden, sitting back on the bench and evading looking at his eyes. "I— of course I know that! I just had more stuff to think about so I decided to walk around some more!”

He then looks to the ground ashamed, gritting his teeth while Igawa finds himself still regaining air.

“...What did my parents say."

“Uh?”

“It wasn’t a difficult question, Igawa.” Tenma spits. The boy regrets the tone as soon as the words come out of his mouth though, because Igawa indeed looks worried (although he always does in the youngster's mind) but he’s too proud to take them back. “Whatever, the press will cover it soon and they’ll know.”

And then it finally sits on Igawa. The press.

Working the media industry is dangerous. No matter how long you have been at the top, one can always count on something happening, even the smallest thing, to rise and flop your career. Young Tenma knows. And Igawa knows too.

So that’s why he looked a little more than desperate.

“Forget it, let’s go home.”

Because Tenma has never been the best student— and he knows, despite feinting otherwise. He is always painfully aware when his professors let him go with a free pass, the thought ‘you didn’t earn this’ nagging at the back of his mind each time he moved up a year only because of his parent’s influence.

Next time he won’t even have that. Pathetic.

"But—" Igawa tries to interrupt but Tenma’s jaw tightens again, and his eyes narrow, casting his ashen face in shadow.

“...Who cares about working hard!” He suddenly declares out loud, turning his hands into fists. “Everyone is right. Everyone should be angry and disappointed with me. You are too, right Igawa? I saw it the moment we looked at the results. All I have is because of my parents and their connections. If I can’t even get in a stupid school like that one everyone will—”

“TENMA-KUN!”

The unexpected shout— for both of them really, Igawa doesn’t remember ever raising his voice in front of him for anything— cuts his speech off. Once the shock ends, Tenma reverts back to the expression he had come in wearing, like a man ready to be condemned. Igawa's anxiety rises again.

"Sorry! Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s just, you are not at fault, Tenma-kun," he explains, leaning forward as though the action would force the young boy to accept his words. “I’m not, angry or— disappointed. I was just worried.”

He blinks, his face painfully surprised. "What do you mean?" He asks, feeling dumb.

Igawa sits next to him on the bench. He speaks again. "...I was worried because you didn’t look okay, and then I worried again when I couldn't find you. Not because I thought you did anything wrong or failed the entrance exam, but because you could have gotten hurt, ah— even if you were going home."

"Worried?" Tenma repeats, looking even more confused. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with this information. He blinks once. Twice. "You mean... you don't think I’m stupid?" Tenma asks slowly.

Igawa’s stomach sinks.

He looks at Tenma's face. He is ashen and looks exhausted, little bags showing under his eyes. He had been on a full stride of commercial the last few days with irregular working hours. It looked like nothing held him together but pure desperate, stubborn will. And even with all of that, he did the exam.

You don’t think I’m stupid—  how could a child ask an adult that?

“No!” he shakes his head, vividly scared at the mere thought. "I— Tenma-kun I never thought you were. Not even once."

“But— but I failed!” Tenma shut his mouth, face flushing from embarrassment, adverting his eyes at the memory. He can’t help the disappointment that wells in his gut as he stares at the ground.

“A-and there’s nothing to be embarrassed about that! You did your best. That’s— that’s what’s important, right? Your parents know this as well.”

“Right. Because they told you that.”

He hadn’t called them, but Igawa finds himself nodding nonetheless. It’s not like he was actually lying. Because why would they mind? They were his parents. Tenma’s face contorts as a result and it occurs to him that whatever the young actor expected him to say, Igawa gave him something else entirely and the boy didn't know how to deal with that.

"Oh." He says, sounding as lost as he looked. "Well— okay, I guess.”

.

.

.

Most fourteen years old have specific interests or hobbies that they enjoy. Sports, crafts, music, games, you name it. And yet, after all these years, Igawa could have a gun pointed at his head and he still wouldn’t be able to say what exactly did Sumeragi Tenma in his spare time.

It’s not weird, right? Oh please don’t let it be weird, he begs as he presses the doorbell.

Was he crossing a line he shouldn’t? Would his parents say something? What if—

"Igawa?" Tenma squints, peeking outside the apartment at the tensed manager. “What are you doing here?”

"H-hello Tenma-kun!" his voice comes out a little breathless and rushed, but does his best to smile nonetheless. “May I come in?”

The young teen gives him an odd look, but apparently decides the point wasn't worth pressing as he shrugs and turns to let him enter. As he sits again in the living room, Igawa notices the young teen has scripts all over the dinner table.

“A-are these the offers I sent you yesterday? You have gone through them so quick! I’m impressed as always.”

"Right..." the young teen repeats slowly, staring at Igawa like one would a madman. "So? I thought I had no schedule this week.”

"Mhm? Oh! uh, you don’t." the teenager frowns in confusion. He then pays attention to the box the man has been carrying all this time.

“What’s that?”

“Uh?”

“Inside that box.” Tenma points with his head. “Fan letters?”

Igawa gulps down. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea after all. He scratches his head. “W-well, um, actually I was thinking of showing you this…”

He takes up the object from inside the box, and immediately Tenma frowns puzzled.

“A bonsai? I thought they were pretty much for old people.”

Igawa tries to laugh it off, placing the tree on the table next to the scripts. Tenma steps forward, touching it with the tips of his fingers with a spec of curiosity. He had never seen an actual bonsai. “W-well, it was um, my late father’s. He enjoyed taking care of them.”

Tenma quickly retracts his hand from touching the plant anymore. “Ah. Sorry.”

“Oh no! It’s fine.”

Tenma doesn’t seem to think it’s fine. Even though they have been together for so many years, he actually knows so very little from Igawa aside from being prone to having mental breakdowns yet being strangely skillful when coordinating his hundreds of different schedules. “So… why have you carried it here then? Bonsais are supposed to be impressive but this one looks more than a little runty and small.”

“This particular bonsai...” Igawa starts to explain quietly. His own father told him it was going to die years ago— even his mother asked if it was even worth watering. “I brought it to my house, hoping I could nurse it back to health. And you know, it did! Kind of? It’s, um, kind of a stubborn Bonsai. It fought for every one of its roots, and it managed to survive when I showed it some care and attention. I thought- maybe you would like to, um, give it a try.”

“Like a pet? You know I don’t have time to take care of it, Igawa.”

“Not like a pet! I— well. I know it’s not the best uh, gift but it helped me when I was down. N-not that I think you are sad, of course just, um, thought it would also brighten up this apartment…?”

Tenma stares at the tree, and proceeds to sight in resignation. His manager was so weird sometimes.

.

.

Tenma steps out of the bathroom, towel around his shoulders as he heads towards the living room. He keeps reading the message their parents sent— another too-long note about how they hadn’t been able to come to see him due to some issues, along with a promised video call that would probably not happen given the time.  

He closes the phone and yawns, heading to the sofa to eat the bento box the cleaning lady uses to leave him for dinner. It has carrots, and while he entertains himself in separating them, a sudden feeling makes him stop and lean back on the sofa, head looking at the ceiling. His head then turns to the right, finding the bonsai Igawa had left still in the same position he had left it.

Of course it was in the same position— he lived technically alone by now. If he didn’t take care of it, no one would.

M-my late father enjoyed taking care of them.

He stands up and walks towards the small tree, staring at it for some time, analyzing every inch of its form. It really wasn’t the best-looking bonsai. And yet he couldn't bring himself to stop staring at it.

“...Sorry for making fun of you.”

There’s a silence after he says that sentence out loud, and Tenma almost cringes at his own actions. Who talked to plants?

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, and looks away. He stares at the phone in his hand, and then back again at the little tree. The young actor traces a finger along its leaves, softening his gaze once he notices how brittle they feel.

“You should just grow at your own pace, you know. You for once are lucky to have all the time to be the best”.

Hearing those words almost feel they were for him too.

.

.

Two days later Igawa calls the doorbell. They have an audition and need to be there early, since they are one of the first ones to go.

He rings again. No one opens the door. There is no sound coming from inside, which sets an alarm. Begging this just like when the now teen forgot to wake himself up as a child, Igawa looks into his keys, finding the copy from the apartment. “Tenma-kun?” he calls. He runs to the bedroom, and then to his living room.

Usually Tenma is brazen, so it’s strange even for Igawa to see him so out of his element. The manager blinks to make sure he really is seeing the young teen on the couch, curled around a book about bonsais as if he’s fighting an inward battle. 

“How do they make them so small?” he mutters to himself, unaware that he’s even in the room. He holds a bag of soil and scissors like they might get up and start dancing.

“Tenma-kun?”

Tenma jumps "Wha—! Igawa, you could at least ring if you are coming inside!” he exclaims, trying to hide everything he can to no avail. His ears are red.

“Sorry! I, uh, rang?” his eyes turn to the Bonsai that’s been sitting next to the orange-head. “Did you buy all of that for—”

“D-don’t get me wrong! It’s not that I enjoyed taking care of it, I have far too many things to do, but— it’s not really smelly and, uh, it really brightens the apartment so… yeah.”

Igawa has to force himself to bite his lip in order to not smile.

“Of course! Please let me know if you have any question. I still have some things back at home if you would like to have them!”

Tenma knows Igawa is happy— he’s not an idiot. He can see he’s barely containing his excitement, which is embarrassing on its own. But for this time, he’s gonna ignore it.

“…Thanks.”

His manager really was weird.

.

.

.

As the passing years turns out, it gets settled in Igawa’s mind that while Tenma has become and actual celebrity just like he always wished, he isn’t exactly well in the emotional department. He wonders -not for the first time- if he should say anything. Do something. But then again, who is he to meddle in his employers' family matters?

So for now, he does his best from where he can help.

Please be there, please be there, please for heaven’s sake be still there.

Among the immense crowd at the entrance of the school, Igawa stops the car and rolls down the window. There are groups of students and families walking out, and he’s about to give up when he’s finally noticed by who he’s been looking for. Motioning from inside the car, he waits until the back door opens and hears the muffled sound of something dropping. Tenma holds his middle school graduation diploma in his hands. He is half slumped over the car seat; legs stretched as he stares blankly at nothing in particular.

“…I thought today was your day off.” He comments flatly.

“A-ah, that! It’s just, uh, Yamada-san suddenly got some urgent matters to attend to and I was already in the area so it was decided.” Igawa looks over the car’s mirror. “So, uh, how… was the ceremony? Did you take photos?”

"It was okay." Tenma responds dully. "Aren’t you going to start the car?"

Igawa stares again at the teen, worry churning in his gut. After all the school Tenma had missed— not his fault or on purpose, Igawa never blamed him for that— the preteen knew how important keeping his attendance up was and he desperately didn't want to be held back. He worked hard to catch up, trying to get to know other students who one day could be called friends. He just wanted some normalcy, to keep whatever regularity in his life he could.

That unfortunately, wasn’t always the case.

After arriving at the apartment, Igawa glances at the clock and bites his lip. He closes the door as gently as he can while watching the young actor walk down to the hall.

Igawa tries to understand the situation. He really does. With a heavy heart, he picks up his cell phone remembering the call, barely an hour ago.

We won’t be able to make it back home today. Congratulate Tenma for us.

“They sent sushi.”

There’s no emotion in the teen’s voice coming from the kitchen. The lights in the living room are still off, the only light coming into the luxurious flat from the opened blinds left by the cleaner that very morning.

"Tenma-kun," Igawa calls, seeing him leave the backpack to the side, blank face as he stared at the feast in front of him. He clears his throat. “Tenma-kun your parents… they couldn’t make it in time, it seems.”

“Mhm.”

No comments. Not a resemblance of surprise in his purple eyes as they eye the beautifully presented food.

“They, um— they told me they were truly sorry and they wish you spent a…” he felt dirty saying it outloud. “…wonderful day! I— I can confirm they’ll see you as soon as their own schedules free them on the—”

“It’s fine, Igawa. See what you can do about the food, I’m gonna go change.” Tenma informs dismissing the matter. He walks away towards his room, still clinging to the diploma like a lifeline, his knuckles almost white. He closes the door and proceeds to seat on the floor, curling up. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut.

He is fine, Tenma tells himself.

He just needs to calm down and change his uniform. He knows Igawa, and he will most likely come to get him if he doesn’t come out soon. There was no way he would make a fuss over it— he was not going to make his own manager worry. Impotence arises when he feels tears gathering in his eyes.

What was he, five?

“T-Tenma-kun?”

A few knocks come from outside the door, and his eyes snap open when he hears his name being called, panic practically oozing out of them.

"One second!" his breathing is erratic, coming out in strangled gasps as he leans over slightly, bracing his hands on his knees tighter. "Just— give me a second!"

Great acting. That was such a blatant lie the soon-to-be summer troupe member didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. He also knew Igawa hadn’t believed him. He wasn’t an actor’s agent for nothing -no matter how much of a nervous wreck and worrywart he was.

"…You know what, you can leave, Igawa." he croaks, his voice shattered. “You didn’t even had to come get me and now I’m acting like a child.”

"P-please! You have nothing to be sorry for!" Igawa exclaims. Tenma can’t see his face, yet he can picture it perfectly. He scoffs.

“I’m not that stupid you know. I expected something like this.” He tries to regain control of his voice, but it still sounds heartbreakingly shattered.

Embarrasing.

It wasn’t the first time they hadn’t come to see him. Nor the second one. Not even the tenth one.

But he had worked so hard this last year.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Igawa thinks he might be sick.

Because Tenma was already fifteen. A young actor still rising who worked day and night, whose fame stared in multitude of adverts. But for heaven’s sake he was also only fifteen too, sitting at the moment in the middle of his cluttered bedroom and trying to understand why his parents couldn’t spend one day with him on the day he wasn't working on a movie or practicing for a casting call.

"You know Tenma-kun, You don't always have to be strong. Nobody will think any less of you." The manager mutters.

Tenma barely looks up. The dying sunlight from the lone window in his room cast his face half in shadow, half in warm glow, eyes half masked in tears that had yet to drop.

"You— Tenma-kun you are without a doubt… the strongest person I've ever had the privilege of knowing." He repeats, and feels the teen moving. Not that he can be sure, so he continues talking.

“...Do you— mind if I stay? If you want, of course!” he hopes he doesn’t sound as awkward as he feels. “I, um, can put some plates and eat a bit. S-seems a waste of food, right?”

Tenma doesn’t make a sound, but that wasn't a no, so he stayed.

“Congratulations on your graduation, Tenma-kun.”

 Again, he doesn’t respond, but Igawa hadn't really expected him to.

.

.

.

Sixteen-year-old Tenma stares at the flyer left on his bed. “Igawa,” he calls as he picks it up and reads the address. “Do I have anything planned after the fitting custom today?”

“Let me double check! Let’s see… it seems that would be the last thing programmed. Were you thinking about doing anything?”

“I want you to drop me in one place. Don’t say anything to my parents.”

.

.

.

"Do you realize the shame you've cause us? What this offer meant for your career?!"

“Dad, if you only—"

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR EXCUSES!” The hand slamming onto the table makes Tenma’s jaw tightens and scowl.

They have been in the Sumeragi’s household for less than ten minutes and Igawa feels he can barely breathe already. He knew that it was just— just discipline, and Igawa was merely a spectator. A horrified one at that.

Still, he can’t leave the teen to confront this obstacle alone.

"U-um, Eiji… san? Sir?” Igawa weakly intervenes next to Tenma, raising his hand. The tension in the air felt physical and his mouth dry. “M-maybe you should hear him out?"

Sumeragi breaks focus on his son and stares Igawa down, his face unreadably menacing.

"You…” Eiji’s voice is deeper than he remembers, intimidating him more than enough as he gets up from the sofa and points at him. “Lying to us for months... Making us believe whatever you wanted… and for what? What did you gain from this?"

Igawa stays silent.

Sumeragi however, doesn’t. “Tell me who are YOU, of all people— to decide what is best for my son?!" his voice is a raw shriek by now, and before Igawa can process anything, he is grabbed and yanked from the sofa onto the floor.

“DAD!” Tenma gets up as a reflex, wide-eyed and horrified at the view. “Are you— out of your mind?! It’s me! It’s me who told him to lie to you two!”

Igawa hears both of them arguing in the distance. He wishes the situation hadn’t turned like this. Oh, how he wished there was something after all the years he’s been Tenma’s manager and guardian he had had courage to do.

He looks up toward the concerned teenager. Now instead of shiny purple eyes, he sees himself reflected in a sea of fear and anxiousness. “Tell him, Igawa! Please!” Tenma keeps begging him.

He shuts the option down. At this point that would only make things worse, he knows it would make it worse. Igawa stands up.

Who are YOU, of all people— to decide what is best for my son?!

Of course, he knew he wasn’t his father. Nor his family, or friend. But it didn’t matter. It really didn’t.

“I’m Tenma-kun’s manager. I work to help him reach his dreams.”

“Igawa…” Tenma whispers and Sumeragi barks a laugh.

“His manager, you say… his dreams, you say.” he steps closer, and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “We believed you understood how important Tenma’s future was. That you cared. We thought you knew the amount of work we do is to provide him with everything he might need to have a successful life! All I ever asked in return, Igawa, is for a little respect from MY employee.”

Igawa knows Tenma has never looked happier than where is now. His place is in Mankai, and so he will stand by what he said.

“Look me in the eye when I’m talking to you!”

Sumeragi raises his hand, and Igawa closes his eyes, ready for the impact.

.

.

.

“Bear it a little bit more… that’s it.” Izumi smiles as she sees the summer actor flinch one last time at the contact the cotton does on his swollen cheek. It’s late at night, so there’s no one in the living room besides them and Igawa. “Did your father hit you because you joined our theatre as you please?”

Tenma feels Igawa tense.

“No, it’s because I refused a movie offer without asking him.” Tenma lies without missing a beat. “I’ve already apologized for it though. And I’ve told him this play is an important step in my career as an actor.”

“Because you don’t have any experience in theatre-?”

“I— um…” Igawa interrupts. Both of them turn to him. “I think Tenma-kun is in good hands. So… I will be leaving now.”

“Oh! Sure, Igawa-san. Thank you for everything.”

He bows to Izumi and heads outside. As he is about to open the car door, a figure comes running out of the dorm. Igawa barely looks at Tenma— he does and is sure will break, the memory flashing through his eyes like a nightmare already.

“You should rest. It’s. It’s been a hectic day and you have school tomorrow.”

“Igawa I—”

"It's fine. We talked plenty with your father. He apologized and so did I, for both of our actions." Igawa mutters faintly. “and you should never do something so—“

Tenma rolls his eyes, like he does everytime he thought Igawa was exaggerating. “I told you, it’s not that big of a deal. In a few days no one will-“

“But it is a big deal, Tenma-kun!” he turns to him, shuddering with the effort of holding back tears. Another thing Tenma used to roll his eyes to. “You were hurt! You can't. You are— precious! You shouldn’t just— do such things without thinking!”

“Well I would do it again!” Tenma shouts back, and Igawa’s stomach flips. “Because it wasn’t your fault. It never was! Because I made you lie and worry all this time for my own selfishness and because I’m sorry!” the waver in his voice makes it all too real.

Igawa had never seen the teen like that. 

“I… I’m sorry, Igawa.” Tenma tries again, voice cracking this time. The summer leader frowns frustrated, not knowing what else to do. “I’m sorry.”

Igawa can't listen to him apologize anymore. He can't see the young teen on the verge of tears. The same boy who at eleven ran to him when he got the main lead in his first drama, the very same little boy who hid in the bathroom of his own apartment for hours until Igawa came and killed that cockroach. All of them make the cluster of emotions already begin to disappear, pulling out like the tide. "Tenma-kun please, no. No, stop. You can't— you can't be sorry for helping me. That's not fair." 

“W-well you can’t either!”

Tenma doesn't say anything after that for a long moment, and neither does Igawa. 

"I just... I got so mad because you weren’t saying anything. Because I had ruined everything. I know it's, it's not been fair for you. It's. It's not. I don't know. I'm sorry." 

Tenma feels pathetic. What kind of explanation was that supposed to be? He notices Igawa steps forward, his hand finding its way to Tenma’s hair, threading fingers through it. He is slow about it and oh so gentle.

"Igawa?"

Tenma looks up, bewildered at Igawa’s gaze. It’s a gaze that he’s seen more and more, as years passed by. 

A softness reserved solely for him. 

Coming from anyone else, it would make him feel uncomfortable. Like pity, leaving him feeling strange and sticky. But on Igawa’s face, Tenma sees the melting-brown-eyes look for what it is. 

Love. 

"Tenma-kun, I’m proud to be your manager. I’ll always be." the man says. His voice comes out clean, just like he always did the few times Tenma had found himself nervous before an audition. "You are an incredible actor and an even better person. I already know you have what it takes, now you just need to show it to your father. To everyone else. I... promise I’ll be right behind."

And then he's hugging Tenma, incredibly awkwardly and everything of course— because that’s just who Igawa is— but also as though his life depends on it. 

It sinks on Igawa that in the end, Tenma does mean a lot to him. That's why he choose to care about him. On purpose and despite everything, he will care about him.

He notices Tenma takes a while until he hugs him back, equally awkwardly.

"…Sure." Is all he manages to hear him say quietly.

Because words cannot properly encompass the emotion building in his chest right now, cannot possibly give meaning to the tears stinging his eyes.

.

.

.

Mornings tend to get chilly at Mankai. Tenma notices this everytime he has to leave his room early, just enough to feel the wind brush across his skin. It’s not cold, but the wind is brisk. It wants to be known. 

He has a shoot in an hour, so he yawns and stretches his back in front of his room, noticing from upstairs Tasuku arriving from his morning jog and Omi and some other early bird —probably director or Guy— heading towards the kitchen to prepare for the day.

He himself heads towards the courtyard for the bonsai trees zone. His zone. Where five of them stand on intricately designed and expensive ceramic pots.

He’s there for his prized possessions, the reason why he listens to the wind talk so loudly in the morning, ignores the slight chill on his cheeks. To check their soil is rich and dark. To stare and their leaves full and green before leaving the dorm.

“Morning.”

Greeting them had become somewhat of a routine. Now if he imagines hard enough, he can see the leaves open toward him, showing their health in all their waxy green glory.

He checks if there’s anything he needs to pay extra attention to. After all these years, of course, he’s learned how to painstakingly trim branches when they have gotten too unruly. He also counts down the days until he needs to turn the soil, has mapped out the places where they get the most sunlight thanks to Tsumugi, and watches intently for when they start to protest because the rays in the form of dry soil and drooping, crack their leaves.

Yes, Tenma takes pride in seeing them grow. To be the one who is able to help them, to pay them the attention they deserve to become the majestic bonsais he raised from seedlings to saplings.

Then, there’s this bonsai, the smallest of them all: a runt on its own right. It struggles to reach its branches toward the sun, one drinks up water from Tenma’s watering can hungrily. This last bonsai is always his last stop. Always.

It’s a stubborn one. A tree that needs lots of coddling and care. A tree that no matter how many years might have passed, doesn’t grow any taller or bigger or stronger at all.

“Still looking tiny as ever today, uh.” Tenma hums, but he’s speaking softly, lifting with care a stray branch with one hand and holding gardening scissors with the other. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d even think you shrunk.” he punctuates his quip with a snip.

Because it is actually fine.

Then the entrance door opens and a pair of panicky and already known into his core steps run towards the courtyard.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Tenma-kun! I forgot the passing cards and had to go back into the office a-and then there was a lot of traffic in the last few blocks so I had to…!”

Igawa’s voice reaches the garden, and the teen stands up. “Well, I’m going.” he mutters to his bonsais. Their brittle leaves move with the wind, a light shimmer covering the surface as if saying take care, see you soon.

“They look healthy.”

He scoffs once he reaches Igawa’s side and gives a proud look back at the garden. “Of course they do. I never do half-hassed jobs, you know that.”

The man gulps down and nods as they head back once again to the entrance. “R-Right!”

“So? What was it today.”

“Well, you have…”

And as he watches the man trying to make sense of the three identical files he carries —he really should label those— warmth floods Tenma’s chest. A smile makes its way into his mouth, and his eyes soften for a few moments. There’s admiration. Respect. Fondness.

Because Igawa was the weirdest manager Tenma had ever had in his acting career. No matter how many years they had spent together he kept apologizing, always nervous and stressed regarding his packed schedule and whatnot. Enough to make the summer leader sight in all honestly.

Other times though, Tenma couldn’t be thankful enough.

________________________________________________________

I was so excited to post this because it’s been a WIP for years!! Igawa has always been one of my favorite background characters. He deserves recognition.

Hope you all enjoyed it! Have a wonderful day! 💕

[sloanerisette]

Digi Secret Santa

Merry Christmas @stoppingtosmelltheflowers! I hope it’s a good one, here’s my Digi Secret Santa gift to you!!

Your letter mentioned that you love the 02 gang and especially Takeru! I thought of this little idea that would include both but especially be Takeru-centric.

I’m more used to writing from the basis of the dub, but I used sub names for this, so I hope the characterization is still enjoyable for you!

“Takeru?”

Even as his partner spoke, the blond continued to look out the plane window at the clouds they passed through and the full, green landscape far below.

“Takeruuuuuuu!”

Takeru blinked as he felt a tiny paw gently hit his chest.

When he turned to look at Patamon, who was floating in front of him, his lips turned upwards into a gentle smile.

“Sorry, I was spacing out, what’s up?” he asked, looking to the side as Patamon pointed to the aisle, to see the flight attendant standing with the drink cart.

“Something to drink for you, sir?” she asked in French.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” he said sheepishly. He ducked his head as a light blush settled on his cheeks, before he cleared his throat, “Tea for me and coffee for my partner, please.”

Patamon settled in Takeru’s lap as he spoke, and Takeru brought down the tray table, which the attendant set the drinks down on moments later.

“Thank you,” Takeru said with a nod as he picked up his paper cup, blowing on it gently before taking a sip.

“You better keep your French up. Remember how annoyed your grandfather was when we got to Paris?” Patamon asked before he took a large gulp of coffee.

“Slow down, you don’t want to burn your mouth,” Takeru chided gently as he slipped back into Japanese, “…I’ll definitely have to do my best. Maybe I can have you and nii-san help me out with that.”

Patamon smiled brightly, “I can do my best!”

Takeru chuckled gently, “I knew I could count on you.”

A young boy who was sitting next to Takeru started squirming in his seat, finally unable to hold back his curiosity any longer, and turned to look up at Takeru and Patamon.

“Excuse me, um… is that your Digimon?” the young boy asked with bright eyes.

“Hello!” Patamon greeted the child cheerfully, and the child’s jaw dropped.

“H-Hi…”

“His name is Patamon.”

“Oooh… I don’t have a Digimon partner yet,” the child said before he looked up at Takeru, “Do you think I’ll get my own Digimon partner one day?”

His heart felt warm at the sight of a child being so excited to see a Digimon. To be able to have Patamon out on a plane flight with him and have no one bat an eye or make comments about how adorable his partner was. This was definitely the kind of thing Hikari always talked about wanting, and it felt good.

“You’ll definitely get one. There’s going to be a day when you and all your friends will have partners of your own. I promise.”

His words left the kid elated, and he gave Takeru a quick thanks and a wave to Patamon before he turned back to the game he was playing.

The pair went silent for a while, Patamon remaining on his partner’s lap after he had finished his coffee, while Takeru continued to look out the window as the view turned from bright blue sky to dark orange twilight.

“Are you excited to see everyone again?” Patamon finally asked once the moon began to slowly rise into the sky.

“Of course I am, it’s been too long,” he said. He took off his neon green beanie by the pom-pom and ran his other hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly to distract himself. After a moment he put it back on, tugging it on slightly as his expression started to falter slightly.

“Takeru, what’s wrong?” Patamon asked.

It didn’t surprise Takeru in the slightest that his partner had caught the subconscious hint that something was wrong.

“Ah, uh, well…” he trailed off, going quiet as he started to think of what to say. Nothing came to mind, though, so he looked at his partner, forcing a warm smile on his face, “It’s nothing, really.”

However, Patamon was unconvinced.

“Takeru… if something’s wrong, I want you to talk to me…”

It was something he still struggled with— being open about himself and his feelings— and even with his chosen Digimon partner urging him to be open and honest, it still didn’t feel easy.

…But he had spent a long time in France and had learned plenty. It would be tough, but he’d have to work on it, even just a bit.

He sighed.

“I’m just… anxious about seeing everyone. A semester is a long time. They’ve all been together all this time and I’ve been… gone.”

“Takeru…” Patamon whined gently, his wings drooping as he frowned up at his partner.

Takeru looked out the window again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“I know we won’t suddenly stop being friends or anything, but I just feel anxious that things might feel different. I’m afraid of feeling like the odd man out.”

“That won’t happen,” Patamon tried to assure him.

“I’m sure you’re right, but…” he started, gently scratching at his cheek as he fell into thought, “…I’ve just been thinking about it the past few days. I just want things to fall back into place like they always have been.”

“I’m sure it will! Remember that video call we had with everyone yesterday? They’re so excited to see you! I bet they’re already at the airport waiting for you,” Patamon laughed.

That was enough to get Takeru to crack a smile, and he laughed alongside his partner.

“Well, they’d be a good…” he checked his watch, “…eight hours early.”

Patamon’s ears drooped, “Aww… we still have that long?” he asked sadly. Takeru nodded.

“’Fraid so, buddy. So no more coffee, ok? We don’t need you crashing as soon as we get off the plane,” he teased, poking his partner gently in the stomach.

“Ok…” Patamon huffed sadly, “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Takeru said, before letting out a loud yawn, “…I think I’m gonna try and get a nap in. Everything has been so hectic and I think the adrenaline is finally wearing off.”

Both his and Patamon’s eyes began to slowly flutter closed.

“Yeah, it might not be that bad an idea to get a little rest…” the Digimon agreed.

In no time at all the two were out like a light, Patamon curled up tight on his partner’s lap.

***

Takeru woke up around two hours before landing and immediately his mind began to race as it started to really sink in just how soon he’d be landing in Tokyo.

His leg began to unconsciously bounce, though thankfully it wasn’t enough to wake Patamon up. The plane remained silent, save for the occasional whispers between a passenger and a flight attendant, and when he looked out the window, seeing his home left butterflies swarming in his stomach. It was a mixture of nerves and excitement, knowing that not too long from now he would see his friends again.

It was so long ago when he first left home to spend a semester abroad, and the time difference combined with how busy he was, how much he wanted to do and see while in France, and how busy everyone else was with high school… he hadn’t had a lot of time to keep in touch with his closest friends, as much as it hurt.

He was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of his partner yawning, and he looked down to see the Digimon that had remained nestled on his lap now turning and twisting onto his back before he slowly opened his eyes.

Patamon’s wings unfurled out from under him, and he looked up at Takeru, blinking a few times.

“Are we there yet?” he asked, then yawned again. Takeru laughed gently.

“Almost. You fell asleep for most of the flight,” he told Patamon, unable to help but yawn as his partner yawned again.

Patamon pushed himself up and took to the air, gently flapping over towards the window. He pressed his face to the window to look down at the approaching island. Takeru craned his neck to look at the small space that wasn’t blocked by his partner.

“Well… guess we really are finally back…” he thought.

The PA on the plane dinged, “Hello everyone, this is your captain speaking. We will begin the process of our initial descent into Tokyo shortly. The local time is 3:30 in the afternoon and the temperature is 12 degrees Celsius. Thank you for coming along with this flight, and we’ll let you know as we begin our descent.”

Takeru wrapped his arms around Patamon and held him close.

“Welcome home, Patamon.”

***

Aside from a bit of turbulence right before they started the landing, the last leg of the flight had been easy, and Takeru was more than ready to get off the plane. Patamon had settled on Takeru’s head as best he could given the pompom of his beanie, and Takeru grabbed his bags as quickly as possible, shuffling behind the others in his row as they disembarked. With the families that had been on the plane, as well as others who were making connecting flights or didn’t know their way around the airport, Takeru found himself taking his time to help point people in the right direction and slowly make his way through the crowds.

It also helped that this minor delay being behind so many people meant he could try and mentally prepare himself and psych himself up a little better.

By the time they reached the baggage claim, he was starting to feel a bit more at ease, and he began to crane his neck around to try and see where his brother was.

What he missed, though, was that through the crowds of people two of his friends were already rushing forward. As he and Patamon turned to look ahead, they saw that Hikari and Miyako just mere inches from him, and they instantly held onto him in the tightest hug he had experienced in a long time.

“You’re back!” Miyako squealed happily.

“It’s so good to see you again!” Hikari cried out.

They had nearly knocked him and Patamon over, but he had barely managed to stay standing.

“Hikari-chan! Miyako-san! W-What are you both doing here!?” Takeru cried out, staring at them with wide eyes and jaw dropped. Patamon hopped off his head and began to fly around the two girls.

“Don’t forget about me!” he squeaked out happily before he landed on Hikari’s shoulder.

“Aww, Patamon, there’s no way I could,” she assured the Digimon.

It didn’t take long for the rest of their group to come over, wasting no time in expanding the group hug. With Daisuke, Iori, and Ken there now, Takeru was in the center of a vortex involving his closest friends. When he was getting ready to take off, he had only expected his brother there to pick him up, but instead he had five of his closest friends rush him, and all of the fears and nerves he had melted away in an instant.

As he was being just about squished by his fellow Chosen Children, those very thoughts seemed so ridiculous in the first place. After nearly half a year in France, being back in Japan…

Takeru gently closed his eyes as he let the warmth of his friends and his Digimon partner overtake him. He could feel tears well up at the corners of his eyes, and couldn’t stop himself from smiling. As the group hug started to break, he wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“Already getting that emotional?” Daisuke asked teasingly, a bright smile on his face.

“Emotional and surprised,” he choked out, “What’re you doing here? I thought—”

“Don’t worry, I’m here too,” came the voice of his older brother as he walked over with his arms folded and a satisfied smile on his face.

Takeru looked at his brother for a moment, then moved forward and wrapped him a tight hug.

“Whoa!” Yamato exclaimed, taken aback, but welcoming it all the same, “It’s great to see you, Takeru.”

The others let the brothers have their moment, Hikari and Miyako with big smiles on their faces in particular.

“Great to see you, too,” Takeru said simply. Patamon landed back on Takeru’s head.

“And it’s great to see you, Patamon,” Yamato said, “You kept him safe?”

“As could be!” Patamon assured him with a salute.

“I still can’t believe you’re all here, too,” Takeru said as he looked at his fellow generation of Chosen Children.

“How could we not be here?” Miyako asked, and her simple question caused Takeru to laugh gently. She was right. Once again, he felt so… so ridiculous for his worries.

“We asked Yamato-san if we could tag along and he was more than happy to bring us,” Hikari told him.

“Wait, but how did he—” Takeru started but Yamato spoke up.

“Have the room? Dad let me borrow his van,” he grinned.

“I still can’t believe that thing runs,” Takeru mused under his breath.

“It’s so great to see you again,” Iori said simply. And despite the usual tone of his voice, the look on his face made it clear to Takeru that his Jogress partner was really excited for him to be back.

“Welcome back,” Ken said with a smile.

“Yeah, welcome home, Takeru-kun,” Hikari said. Takeru swallowed a lump in his throat as he felt himself ready to tear up again.

“You guys… thanks for being here,” he said, then looked to his older brother, “And thanks for bringing them.”

“Sure thing.”

Daisuke wrapped his arms over Miyako and Ken’s shoulders, “So what’s the plan now, guys?”

“The plan…?” Iori repeated slowly, tilting his head curiously.

“Well, yeah! We got our friend back finally! We gotta do something fun!” Daisuke grinned as he leaned forward. The sudden weight nearly caused Miyako’s knees to buckle and she maneuvered out from under Daisuke, causing the gogglehead to have to be caught by Ken before he fell.

“Maybe it would be best if Takeru-kun and Patamon got a little rest?” Hikari suggested, looking over at Takeru for a moment to offer him a hopeful smile.

Daisuke’s expression instantly fell, while Takeru shook his head.

“We’ll be good for a little while. We both managed to fall asleep on the plane for a while,” he assured the group.

“Great! That means we can do something fun to celebrate!” Miyako cheered. Daisuke followed up with a cheer of his own.

“Well, I’m good to do anything, do you have any ideas, Takeru-san?” Ken asked. Takeru grimaced.

“Uh, well… not really…” he said as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

Iori sighed, “I don’t think we should be having Takeru-san decide what to do for him when he just got off the plane.”

“No, no, it’s fine, really,” Takeru said, waving off Iori’s concern, “I’d just need a bit to think of something,” he chuckled gently.

“Actually, wait, I have a great idea!” Daisuke spoke up, “I’ve been working on a ramen recipe and got some ingredients, we can all come over to my place and I can whip us up some food!”

“Are you sure your parents would be alright with that, Daisuke-kun?” Hikari asked with a hint of concern in her eyes. Daisuke shrugged nonchalantly.

“They’re gone for a few days. Me and V-mon got the place to ourselves,” he grinned as he put his hands behind his head, leaning back just enough so he wouldn’t fall over.

“Well, if you don’t mind, that sounds great, thanks Daisuke-kun,” Takeru smiled.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to make this recipe but I just haven’t had the chance, so this works,” Daisuke said.

“He’s been waiting for us all to be there before he made it for the first time,” Ken said with a smile.

“Ken! Aww, man…” Daisuke sighed.

Takeru felt his heart swell, and he couldn’t stop from smiling.

“Thanks. I’m really excited to try it.”

“Definitely beats airplane food, I bet,” Miyako added.

Takeru laughed, “Definitely.” Yamato stepped over, pulling out the keys from his pocket to twirl them with his finger.

“You kids ready to go then?” Yamato asked.

“Oh, uh, maybe we should stop by mom’s place real quick? Just so that way I can drop my stuff off and—” Takeru started, but was cut off by his older brother.

“Don’t worry. I’ll head over and drop your bags off and let her know.”

“Then let’s get going! We got ramen to eat!” Daisuke shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

***

Thankfully the drive back hadn’t been too bad, both between the traffic and the sad state his dad’s old van was in, and they had gotten back to Daisuke’s home in Odaiba without incident. Takeru had asked his older brother a few times if he wanted to at least stick around long enough to get a bowl of ramen, but Yamato had repeatedly insisted, “No, I’m fine, you should just enjoy the time with your friends.”

And once they were inside, it had felt so… strange. It had only been around a half a year since he had been in the Motomiya apartment, and it cemented just that he really was home. It was like nothing had ever changed, like he had been there all along. As happy as that made him, it also left him feeling a bit empty, in a way. They had been doing stuff like this all along without him. His chest felt tight at the thought. Even if he was glad that they were all able to spend so much time together, his heart panged knowing that he wasn’t able to join them.

Thankfully none of them, even Patamon, didn’t notice that brief moment of sadness that flashed across his face, instead all too focused on chattering away. It helped him distract himself from his own thoughts, too, so focused on all that was going on.

“Maaaaaan, I can’t wait for for this ramen to be ready! This is gonna be crazy good, you guys!” Daisuke grinned as he set a large soup pot on high, then rubbed his hands together.

“It’s been way too long since I’ve had any ramen and I know this is going to be great. I can’t wait,” Takeru said. Daisuke’s face turned a crimson red and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“I mean, like I said, it’s no big deal…” Daisuke mumbled, unable to help the small smile that came on his face. Hikari couldn’t stop herself from giggling.

“It’s really sweet of you,” she told him, which only intensified the goofy look on his face.

Daisuke opened his mouth to speak again, but Miyako quickly held a hand up.

“We need to hear about Takeru-kun’s time in France!” she shouted.

Takeru’s eyes went wide, “Really? I mean, I’ve already talked about it a bit.”

Brief video calls using less than desirable when it could work out were the most they could all manage, which had never been enough.

Even still, Takeru couldn’t imagine many exciting things to talk about, trying to wrack his brain for anything exciting.

“But there’s gotta be something, right?” Miyako asked.

“Well…” Takeru mumbled.

“Did you have a good time with your grandparents?” Iori asked.

“They’re great! Takeru’s grandfather is always so fun and he took us so many places!” Patamon said happily.

“Was there any good food?” V-mon asked as his head finally popped up from behind the counter.

“Oh, the food was so yummy! Lots of bread and cheese and the desserts were sooooooo good!” Patamon squealed. V-mon sighed.

“Oh, that sounds good. I could go for a fancy dessert,” the blue dragon Digimon said.

“What? But I buy you so many chocolate bars from Ai Mart!” Daisuke whined.

“Sometimes I could go for a fancy French dessert,” V-mon said as he scratched the top of his head.

“You didn’t even know about French desserts until just now,” Hikari laughed.

“Maybe one day we can all visit France together,” Takeru suggested.

“That’s a great idea,” Ken nodded.

“Oh! I would love to visit France!” Miyako said as she clasped her hands together with a dreamy look in her eyes, “It’s supposed to be so romantic and beautiful and all of that food sounds so good!”

“Maybe we can go after we graduate?” Hikari suggested. Miyako narrowed her eyes and let out a loud huff.

“That would be so long to wait, though!” she whined. Iori cracked a small smile.

“We can always go when Miyako graduates so she doesn’t have to wait as long,” he teased gently. However, that just left Miyako lighting up even more, and she shot her arms in the air.

“That’s a great idea!”

“Don’t worry about France right now! We’ve got delicious ramen coming your way! V-mon, help me serve these up!” Daisuke called out to his partner, who scrambled over to the stove to assist.

“It’s done already?” Ken asked.

“Yeah,” Daisuke said before he let out a sigh, “I would’ve liked to let the broth sit longer, but if I did it wouldn’t be something I’d want to serve until tomorrow.”

Takeru blinked.

“You’ve been taking cooking really seriously since I left,” he said.

Daisuke looked over his shoulder after ladling some broth into a bowl, “You know it! I had always thought about it and wanted to do it, but, I dunno… I’ve felt really driven lately. I’ve just been thinking about how much I want to be the best ramen chef ever…”

V-mon gently and lovingly placed pieces of pork in the bowls, before setting them to the side.

“Well it smells delicious!” Miyako said, unable to stop from licking her lips.

“It really does. Thank you so much, Daisuke-san,” Iori said with a brief bow of his head.

“Well come on! It’s not gonna eat itself!” Daisuke said as he lifted a tray that was now holding ramen for the group, and carried it over to the table.

Bowls, chopsticks, and spoons were passed out, and the group of Chosen Children, as well as V-mon and Patamon, slowly began to eat in silence, aside from the occasional content noise.

It wasn’t just the soup that warmed his entire body, but the company, too. Sitting next to Hikari-chan, their shoulders occasionally bumping into each other, watching Iori so meticulously go about eating his ramen, while Miyako and Daisuke ate so ravenously one would’ve thought they hadn’t eaten for a few days, and Daisuke asking Ken for feedback every so often.

Patamon and V-mon had gorged themselves near immediately, even faster than Miyako— which Takeru wasn’t sure was even possible— and were quick to run back to the kitchen to get some of the remaining broth.

Back in France, he would get up before school, have a quick meal with his grandmother, grandfather, and Patamon, something that was completely unceremonious compared to breakfast back home. Some butter and jam on a piece of baguette and a quick cup of coffee, or maybe a chocolate croissant as a treat, before he’d have to hurry off.

“It’s pain au chocolat, Takeru! Never just a ‘chocolate croissant’!”

He remembered his grandfather scolding him the first time he had made the mistake, and the thought brought a smile to his face. Even if he had teared up as he bid his grandparents farewell before leaving to meet his flight, he was just glad to have had all that time with them. He would treasure it just as much as he was treasuring this meal with his best friends. That he was able to be close, to watch in content silence as he slowly ate his fill of this delicious ramen, he…

“Takeru-kun, are you ok…?”

Hikari’s voice was so quiet, so slight, that he was surprised he even heard it, especially considering how deep in thought he was. He turned his head to look at her, suddenly realizing the wetness gathering at the edges of his eyes. He blinked away tears, which fell onto the table silently, and he felt at a loss for words.

“O-Oh, I’m—” he started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Takeru-kun, is something wrong?” Miyako asked, barely able to be understood with her mouth full of noodles.

“I bet it’s because the ramen is so good,” Daisuke grinned, which left Miyako rolling her eyes in annoyance as she swallowed her food. Takeru could feel more tears well up, but at the same time he couldn’t help but chuckle gently hearing their bickering. It had been so long since he heard the two of them go back and forth that it sounded almost foreign to his ears, and hearing it again brought in a rush of emotions all at once.

Sitting with everyone, eating ramen, watching his partner loudly slurp the broth before getting more without any hesitation, it was all of these little things all at once that washed over him like a tidal wave, memories from what felt like forever ago flooding back as he witnessed the same things again.

“Takeru-san…?” Iori asked quietly, gently setting his chopsticks down as he watched his Jogress partner with worry clear in his eyes. Both the spoon and chopsticks fell from Takeru’s hand as his body started to gently shake, and he couldn’t stop himself from sniffling loudly.

“Takeru-kun, what’s wrong?” Hikari asked again, voice rising as panic overtook her. Instead of an answer, though, Takeru buried his face in his sleeve, his body to shake rougher than before as he started to cry, tears staining the fabric of his shirt.

“Takeru-san!” Ken shouted with worry, and Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken all shot up from their seats.

“What’s wrong, are you ok?” Hikari asked, and after a few moments, Takeru slowly nodded, not moving his face as he continued to cry.

He felt bad for worrying his friends, no, he felt awful about it, but it had been so good to just… be back home. To be with everyone. To know that nothing had changed even when he was worried that something might. But no, everything went right back to where it was as if Takeru had been gone for six hours as opposed to six months. He slotted back into place so easily when that had been his biggest fear in the week leading up to the flight back.

On the flight he had been terrified that things might be different between him and the others. Even earlier, when things had gone well and he knew he had blown it out of proportion, there was an inkling of fear deep in the back of his mind that maybe something would change after this first hang out back. Maybe he would seem too different to them, or they might be hurt because of the lack of opportunities to talk over all that time.

It was ridiculous, it was all so ridiculous. Those first thoughts had been ridiculous, the anxiety that left his stomach churning and his leg bouncing on the plane had been ridiculous, and the way he wracked his brain to over complicate how something could go wrong when nii-san drove them to Daisuke’s place had been ridiculous.

“I-I’m just so glad to be back,” he choked out, finally pulling his arm away to reveal red, puffy eyes that were still welling up with tears. He let out a gentle cough in between his happy sobbing.

“I was… I was so scared that things might be weird, or that I wouldn’t… wouldn’t fit in with you guys after so long,” he admitted weakly. The faces of the other Chosen Children fell.

“Why would you think that, man? Come on, there’s no getting rid of us, and we aren’t getting rid of you,” Daisuke said, unable to help but sniffle as Takeru could tell from his own crying eyes that Daisuke’s were getting a bit misty.

Takeru wiped his tears away and let out a long sigh, “I don’t know why I thought that would happen, but… six months is a long time. You’ve all been in school here while I was abroad, and I thought it might feel… different because I was gone for so long.”

“But that never changed our relationships with our Digimon,” Hikari said kindly, setting a gentle hand on Takeru’s shoulder, “We were separated from them for nearly three years, and that didn’t change anything between you and Patamon, right?”

“That’s right!” came Patamon as he flew from the Motomiya kitchen to land on Takeru’s head, “You were still my best friend even when I was stuck in the Digital World!”

“And if all that time wasn’t enough to break down yours and Patamon’s friendship, then this wouldn’t be enough to break down ours,” Iori told him confidently.

“He’s right. We’ll always be a team,” Ken added immediately.

Takeru couldn’t help but smile as his body began to shake again when more tears started to pour down his cheeks.

“Thank you, you guys,” he choked out.

“Aww, Takeru-kun! It’s just like Daisuke said, nothing will change between any of us! You could’ve been in France for years and nothing would be different,” Miyako said.

“You’ll always have us,” Hikari promised him, “Even when you’re all the way across the world.”

“I think this calls for a group hug!” Miyako called out as she rounded the table.

“I think this calls for another round of ramen!” Daisuke and V-mon shouted at the same time, looking at each other in surprise before they scurried off to refill their bowls.

Takeru couldn’t help but laugh at the synchronicity between the two, the tears falling now ones from joy as those emotions started to wash over against the anguish he was feeling just moments ago. Miyako ran over to give Takeru a tight hug, which Hikari followed suit in. Although Ken and Iori weren’t always the most overly affectionate, they too wasted no time in participating in this warm moment with the group.

“Daisuke, get over here!” Miyako shouted, while Daisuke hummed to himself in the kitchen.

“Ok, ok! I’m coming!” Daisuke grumbled, the bowl clattering against the counter top as he hurried over with V-mon in tow. The two just about leapt onto the group to join in.

After a few moments, Daisuke finally peeled himself off and ran back to the kitchen, “Ok, more ramen for everyone! We still have a lot left so you guys gotta eat up!”

V-mon started to grab a few bowls, and Ken picked up a few more to assist in the process.

“So do you want to talk about anything fun that happened in France?” Hikari asked. Takeru looked at the group at the table, then looked over his shoulder to see Daisuke walking over with more food, a look of sheer elation plastered on his face as he licked his lips.

“Yeah! Tell some more stories while we eat!” Daisuke encouraged him.

“Well, if you insist,” Takeru said as V-mon handed him a fresh bowl of hot ramen. Takeru inhaled the scent and let out a content sigh. He really was home and he couldn’t ask for anything else, “Thanks V-mon.”

“Sure thing!” the Digimon said, giving Takeru a thumbs up before he started to just about inhale his own food once he sat down next to Daisuke.

Takeru took a moment to take a few bites, thinking long and hard about what to talk about. Now? He couldn’t wait to tell stories about his time abroad. And he couldn’t wait to hear about everything that happened here in Odaiba. There was so much to catch up on, and even if he wasn’t there for it, they were still adventures he wanted to hear all about.

“Ok, well, I was still a bit shaky on some of my French for the first few weeks, right? So during one of my classes…”

The night continued on with eating, stories, laughter, and even a few tears as the group finally broke apart towards the end of the night, all of them happy to have their group whole again.

[soandso75]

Hello Tumblr! I'm N0B0DY and you're watching Sacriverse, a Undertale Sans au omniverse that consists off two multiverses(more if you count the other character's pasts.) that I will explain as soon as I can but I'd first like to say is that any characters referred to are characters I gave fanon characteristics to, characters with their own names are mine, and other characters such as Error, Nightmare, Dream, and Killer will be given the owner/communities credit.

Now, with that out of the way, we can finally get into the omniverse!

(All posts will not have tags so if you find this, you have my thanks and congrats!)

To start, this is a dadmare, fgod, Murder-centric story. Only that Murder goes by Murder at the beginning then Greed later on. This also is centered around demons, contracts and deals. Demon characters will be stated then given their new names and what makes them different from their original multiverse counterparts.

First, Murder/Greed!

Murder/Greed used to be a voice then a normal Sans before he died in his timeline and glitched out and into the void where he would be spending before Nightmare/Arctos arrives then helps Murder/Greed out of there. Murder/Greed would then find himself going with Nightmare/Arctos to Sacriverse where Murder/Greed becomes a demon goat skeleton with issues. The reason this story is a omniverse is because Murder/Greed adopts a multiverse. That will be explained later on, I swear.

Next is Nightmare/Arctos!

For the sake of no confusion he will just go by Arctos, it's latin, btw. Arctos was a regular Nightmare but was killed when he ate the negativity apple only to end up in Sacriverse when his Dream also died because his old multiverse crumbled without the balance. Arctos is the king demon and likes to keep a close eye socket on the seven deadly sins, he's also a bear demon skeleton with issues and wishes to get revenge on his old village but that burning inferno had cooled down during the 50,000 years he's been alive/dead.

Next, it be Killer/Pride!

Same thing goes for Killer and everyone as I've said for Nightmare/Arctos. Pride used to be normal before he lost his timeline to Error and was sent to Sacriverse to take Prides place as the last one had died to their multiverse. Pride has yet to take in a multiverse since he heard of what happened to the last Pride sin. That doesn't mean that the demon wolf man won't kill you, he's still pretty enthusiastic about that. Pride is glad Arctos chose him personally, not because of the annual deadly sins hearing. That will be explained later as well!

Here we got, Horror/Gluttony!

Don't be fooled by this giant demon boar who could most definitely tear you apart with just his two claws. Gluttony is a gentle giant that could tear you apart without a sweat, he just needs a snack before he starts. Gluttony was a original before his timeline was wrecked by Undyne and then ruined more by Alphys. The skele boar was doing his own thing when they couldn't get anymore food and then died sadly trying to get food for his brother. Gluttony doesn't regret anything though, he feels at peace with his death. He was basically destined to become Gluttony.(He cooks all the food in the castle.)

Up next is Cross/Envy!

Envy is a Cross!Sans after dusting everyone in his au but dies in his void when neither Ink nor Nightmare come to see him and manipulate him. He sadly just dusts alone with Chara and ends up in Sacriverse. Things begin to change with Envy as he is a fox that works closely with Arctos to make sure that demons don't even think about overthrowing him, the Sins being a exception since they were hand picked my Arctos himself. Envy is quiet, swift, and tall, being able to stand a foot and a few inches shorter than Greed.

Last for the Sins(for the moment) is Error/Wrath!

Don't worry, he's mostly normal, I think.. Anyways! Wrath became Wrath when he was doing his own thing and then Fate happened then Ink's plan to throw Wrath into the Outertale void worked. Poor Wrath was falling for ages but he was free and he had new friends to hang out with. This demon Javan Leopard is still like a Error but more mindful of what he does and who his enemies are since his last multiverse basically said "You're out of the house," and self deleted.

Also, so you guys know, these aren't permanent. Over time they will change and I will try to clarify any confusion if there is any. Other characters will be in another post so I'll have that out some time later.

For now, this is all, thank you for letting me waste your time and I hope you have a good rest of your day/night!

[ruby-red-inky-blue]

Nobody asked, but here is my “objective” ranking of MFMM episodes:

1x05 Raisins & Almonds 

2x09 Death on the Vine

2x05 Murder à la Mode

1x02 Murder on the Ballarat Train

2x10 Dead Air 

1x10 Death by Miss Adventure 

1x03 The Green Mill Murder

2x03 Dead Man’s Chest

2x01 Murder Most Scandalous

2x12 Unnatural Habits .

1x08 Away with the Fairies

3x03 Murder & Mozarella 

1x06 Ruddy Gore

1x09 Queen of the Flowers 

2x13 Murder Under the Mistletoe

1x13 King Memses’ Curse

2x07 Blood at the Wheel

3x07 Game, Set, Murder

1x12 Murder in the Dark 

1x01 Cocaine Blues .

3x06 Death & Hysteria

2x02 Death Comes Knocking

3x01 Death Defying Feats

2x09 Framed for Murder 

2x04 Deadweight

1x11 Blood and Circuses

1x07 Murder in Montparnasse

3x02 Murder & the Maiden

2x06 Marked for Murder 

2x08 The Blood of Juana the Mad .

1x04 Death at Victoria Dock

3x08 Death Do Us Part

3x04 Blood & Money

3x06 Death at the Grand

(Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears)

1x05 Raisins & Almonds This one *just* takes first place because I find the main suspect absolutely fascinating. She’s so reserved and underhand, and the show calls you out on it if you find her suspicious because of that - she’s actually drawn very similarly to some of our most sympathetic male characters, Jack not least of all (controlled, cool under pressure, widely read, very fair-minded). It’s also got what may be *the* quintessentially Phryne scene: - “I did the only thing I could under the circumstances.” -“You called for help?” -“I stabbed him in the shoulder.”, and one of Jack’s best comebacks: -”If a tree falls in a forest -” -”You’re likely somewhere very close by, wielding the axe.” And, much as I adore the later-stage light angst and co-dependence of Death on the Vine, that first admission of semi-serious attraction on her side ("it happens”) as we’re setting up the status quo for the season - he’s married, not really, but real enough - catnip.

2x09 Death on the Vine Maybe the only seriously suspenseful episode! Also, a village drama caused by WWI tragedy! Germans that aren’t caricatures! Rilke’s Liebeslied! Dot gets to shine! “Is that my Collected Shakespeare??” (that Jack apparently keeps in his office? In case he urgently requires... some Shakespeare... for paperwork on a murder case?) Jack’s back to being silently but steadfastly supportive (now with an angsty twist)! What’s not to love? And this episode’s ending is in my top three, they yearn so prettily.

2x05 Murder à la Mode Start to finish, this one’s just a total delight. Mail theft! Dot-centric! A break-in and thwarted escape via printed cotton by the yard! Jack is bringing back Marc Anthony! Fashion!! Phryne is goading/enticing/threatening with “her Columbian emeralds”, which is definitely code for *something*. Just, peak fun. This is the episode I’d show the uninitiated who are just out for a fun romp.

1x02 Murder on the Ballarat Train I don’t even love Agatha Christie that much, but the train murder? Sign. Me. Up. This is definitely where I first fell for this show, which is why it’s maybe up a little *too* high (the resolution of the crime plot is a bit ridiculous, and so is Jane’s Oliver-Twist-esque backstory). But it doesn’t even matter! This one has everything! Bert/Ces/Mr. Butler antics, Phryne’s driving, Dot learning new things, glorious early flirting/bickering action, and that lovely final scene. Plus the lovely scenery and an old train and the first introduction of Phryne’s glorious house, which never hurts.

2x10 Dead Air Such fun! Another one I’m definitely not watching for the A plot but it’s so so fun to watch, Phryne is breaking and entering *with* a police officer, singing about laundry detergent (and my god, sign me up), everyone suspecting the undercover cop of sabotage, the gang sans Jack taking over his office, feet on his desk and emptying his secret stash, and that ending. That ending.

1x10 Death by Miss Adventure A great A plot! Yes! This is a glorious episode because it is so heavy on the Dot and the Mac content. We love to see it. Also yay some era-appropriate feminist issues and sapphic rep (okay maybe debatable but I thought she was sympathetic actually). And that final scene is so sweet and expertly underplayed.

1x03 The Green Mill Murder The part with the MIA brother is weird, but quite solid A plot otherwise, and it lives in that sweet spot of early days Phryne and Jack where there is definitely a semi-obvious *something* but it hasn’t been acknowledged so the flirting is so lighthearted and carefree (how long has she known this man? A few months tops, and she’s sitting on his desk and feeding him cold gratin??). Them taking breaks from their goodnatured bickering to play matchmaker to Dot and Hugh is a source of constant delight to me. And the storyline about the gay couple is handled so sweetly and deftly, I adore this show for it.

2x03 Dead Man’s Chest Again this one is popular with me entirely for the B plot, the A plot is so forgettable. But again, does it matter? Beachside flirting, sneaking drinks, Jack being Phryne’s numismatist on speed dial.

2x01 Murder Most Scandalous I just enjoy Rosie and the twist in the Phryne/Jack dynamic that results from her, and I liked Sanderson’s character much better when he wasn’t a complete scumbag. Plus, this one is just so *fun*. There’s so much good Dot content! Fan dancing! Loses points for Phryne’s caricature-esque undercover persona, though, you can do better.

2x12 Unnatural Habits The A-plot is relatively solid but it’s trying to be so many things at once it isn’t that memorable. But I do enjoy Le Drama and the flirting is industrial grade in this one - honestly this is up here about 75 percent just for the tie scene, and at least 2.5 percent for the fact that Jack didn’t so much as blink before dropping his murderer into the Pacific for her (honestly this dude gets shot in the sholder and dropped into the bay after the newspaper runs the headline “sixth frost in succession” - I’m saying there was a genuine risk that Fletcher would get enough of a shock to just drown, and by god don’t we all wish he would have).

1x08 Away with the Fairies I really like the A plot for once (even though the resolution is a bit rushed). Not *much* movement on the romance B plot but what little we do get is so charming I ain’t even mad. Could have done without the continued Lin storyline tbh.

3x03 Murder & Mozarella I appreciate Phryne’s interactions with Concetta So Much. She’s so jealous, but also they really like each other. I just like the character work they’re doing in this a lot. And the Godfather family feud storyline is clichéd of course but it’s definitely on purpose, and it’s so fun to watch.

1x06 Ruddy Gore Honestly, the crime plot is pretty far fetched, and I’m not wild about the Lin storyline, so this is where the rating suffers. BUT. So much flirting. There Is Shakespeare.

1x09 Queen of the Flowers I love Phryne as a mentor figure, and the storyline with Jane’s mother turns out surprisingly sad but sweet. Overall solid A plot here, and we spend a lot of time with Jane and Phryne, which is a rare treat.

1x13 King Memses’ Curse Do I remember much of the fairly convoluted crime plot? No. (A reincarnated pharaoh? Really?) I remember this episode fondly purely for the last ten or so minutes. But man, those are absolute peak hurt/comfort content, and another final scene that’s a definite contender for top spot (Sailing on a Sunbeam and everything!). Oh, and this one has the peak Dot and Hugh scene! Him walking her through how to hold him at gunpoint is unparalleled.

2x13 Murder Under the Mistletoe The better “And Then There Were None” imo. Funny, cozy, decent-ish crime plot, and lots of Prudence, which is fun. Plus some heavy grade flirting and maybe my favourite joke of the show (”Miss Fisher’s gone on holiday.” -”Oh. Anyone dead yet?” -”Only one so far, sir.”). Loses points for Jack’s jumpers (shrunk in the wash, I want to say) and the fact I can never *quite* remember what the motive of the bad guy was in the end.

2x07 Blood at the Wheel The angst! It’s so good. Unfortunately, the A plot doesn’t keep pace, and Phryne’s thoughtlessness in the latter third borders on cruelty. Dotty as Miss “Runnemalova” is rather amusing, but not quite enough to get me interested into the racing storyline.

3x07 Game, Set, Murder Another fun romp, and Phryne v. Spider and Jack’s absolute delight at it are a treat, as is Phryne being made an “honorary constable”. Series 3 is decidedly unsubtle compared to the others, which is a downgrade imo, but the lighter tone has its perks and they shine in this episode.

1x12 Murder in the Dark Another one that’s kind of weird but contains a single scene that is such a masterclass in UST that it eclipses the entire rest of it. Also, Isabella’s antics with Prudence are hilarious, and their treatment of the Arthur plot is another feather in the show’s cap where sensitive topics are concerned.

1x01 Cocaine Blues I’m partial to a pilot in any case, and this one has Miranda Otto! And early Dot is such a delight. Otherwise this one’s a bit meh, but I have a soft spot for it anyway.

3x05 Death & Hysteria Fun overall, and that scene in the morgue where Mac and Phryne hang Jack out to dry re: the mysterious electrical massage device is hysterically funny.

2x02 Death Comes Knocking Another one that’s a bit weird, but I’m not one to resist a world war tragedy, and I appreciate some of the smaller details immensely - like the dangling implication that the medium may actually have *real* visions? And Jack’s passion for sandwiches and Martinis.

3x01 Death Defying Feats Overall I find this one a bit tiring, and another circus-adjacent storyline, don’t know why but I do not enjoy those much. But on the other hand, it has the glorious, glorious “liberal-minded men” speech.

2x09 Framed for Murder This one’s just fine? I do like Clara a lot, and Phryne as a director is rather fun. Actually, this whole thing is pretty fun! I just always seem to forget it immediately after watching.

2x04 Deadweight Another one that’s definitely confusing upon first watch. I like the running themes a lot, though, and the ending is absolutely adorable!

1x11 Blood and Circuses Again, I think I just really don’t like circus-focused crime drama. But the final scene is soft and admirably simple, and Jack and Elsie are a dream duo and a fascinating character study.

1x07 Murder in Montparnasse This is controversial, I guess? Given this has the one of the two kisses, you’d think it would rate higher, but... I just don’t really like this one. One scene I remember really fondly though is the one where they’re definitely not playing with toy cars in Jack’s office.

3x02 Murder & the Maiden Interesting A plot that would have definitely been much cooler as a trans storyline (then again, we have enough murdered trans people in media). And some interesting developments on the romance side. The chase is obnoxious but fun nonetheless.

2x06 Marked for Murder I’m incapable of following this episode’s A plot, I still don’t entirely get the crime. And I still don’t know if it’s actually about regular football (”soccer”) or rugby. But the team rivalries among the gang are amusing, especially in Dot’s case.

2x08 The Blood of Juana the Mad Decidedly a mixed bag, but it has its moments - both of the funny and angsty variety. And a lot of Mac, which is always a plus!

1x04 Death at Victoria Dock Super convoluted, but still in the carefree flirty zone pre-Raisins and Almonds, so that part’s fun by default. Loses extra points for assuming Latvia and Russia are culturally or even linguistically the same, though, why???

3x08 Death Do Us Part I know, I know! I just think overall season 3 isn’t really my cup of tea, and the Baron Fisher storyline was definitely getting on my nerves. And sweeping and amusingly dramatic as the final sendoff is, I’m always reduced to giggles when they leasurely jog towards each other and, idk. It doesn’t quite have ~*~the vibe~*~ y’know.

3x04 Blood & Money Not bad, just forgettable.

3x06 Death at the Grand Again, comparatively meh.

Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears Too Indiana-Jones-y for my taste, and what happened to the costumes? Also, while this show never worked when you took everything one hundred percent seriously... this one falls apart if you take it any more than 30 percent seriously. And I *liked* the more serious ones! Less would have really been more, maybe a fun fish-out-of-water type thing where Phryne (plus newly arrived inspector) have to solve a murder in London? Or France? Anyway a relatively stationary thing without a supernatural element would have done fine, the film was barely longer than the episodes, they were taking on a bit much. Plus I do think they did Jack somewhat dirty by sending him through a repeat of his “Blood at the Wheel” arc.

[usercookie2008]

Welcome to the Void!

Welcome to my silly Main Blog, currently yer at my Main post, I'll call it Voidling Central, where I'll be linking my other Blogs and Linking the random stuff I got here in the void

Will be edited as time goes by fufufuruu

Idk Just thought it'd be a good Place to keep stuff Linked besides with my Carrd

Intro to me

A little side post where I kinda introduce myself a bit better and somewhat a little in what I think or whatever

The Void's Blog Archives - Tags list

The Voidlands Discord!

Psstt!!! You should totally join, it's a UTMV centric Server, you can also get updates both of When I update my fics, post things, but also Learn a bit about my Critters! :}c

It's a bit more Organized than my Tumblr but lotta UTMV stuff here, Also a good place to find me at, I'm kinda more active there than much of anywhere else haha

Buy me a Soda! (Kofi)

My Kofi page is where you can commission me and see some Sneak peeks of my Artworks and whatnot if you support me! there's more about my Comms on there! ^^

commission status; Open!

The Void updates

This area of the Blog is where I keep all the stuff about the blog like my requests, Commissions, etc, and whether or not they're open

Commissions ; Open

Requests/suggestions ; Open

Ask box/Speak to the Void ; Open (I beg of the please I'm so bored 😭)

Voidling central Stadus ; WIP

The Void's Blog Archives ; WIP

Other Blogs!

The Ask Chee Blog! <-- Link

Ask Chee is a side blog of mine where the starting character is Chee who's a Cheetah Cross sans, Ask them stuff and see if we'll meet any friends later down the road

Ask Box; open

The Generations AM Blog! <-- Link!

The Generations AM is that of an Altertive Multiverse set sometime further in the Future to where it Focuses generally upon Nightmare and his gang. More or less, those who are the reminisce of his Gang as time passes on, Nightmare never passes but goes through the motions of taking care for his in a way Grandchildren, and perhaps more as the AM progresses.

Ask box; Open

----still in Progress of Editing in other Blogs----

[alpinelogy]

And Logan too for the songs

give me a character and i will tell you which song(s) remind me of them give me their vibes <- honestly tbh still open asdfgh. turns out i love yapping

Oh god there is just so much to be said about Lyrith. I will link the actual music video like I did for Mopemope because it is a banger but definitely not mandatory viewing here this time 🙂‍↕️ Anyway, the calm opening before the song really picks up and the very chaotic melody is very fitting, in the mv the protagonist is stuck in a labyrinth and the song evokes that feeling to me a lot!! Which first Logan, and the seemingly inescapable situation he has found himself in time and time again. Even the moments of respite are brief and interrupted

I was iffy on including any songs with lyrics in it but fuck it. I've outed myself as a weeb anyway might as well full send it. ANYWAY, the piano and the very, very mournful tone are very Logan to me, there is palpable loss and saying goodbye in the song which what Logans career and life had been for a long time now it feels like

Similarly to san skia this also a very sad song!! And I adore it and I adore Logan so a win-win!! Anyway yeah, very sad, very repetitive and almost sort of almost white noise-esque music!! Logan!!

It starts off calm and then it picks up and ooh. Ooh!! Hi Logan how are you doing :))). For realsies tho this is like the one happy song in this list and it is so fun!! Calm and held back initially and then it picks up, starts being fun and chaotic and just vibing!! A lot

Finally, Callima Karma. The vocals are unintelligible at least to me, thought according to Feryquitous there are actual lyrics, but the to me unintelligible vocals feel very much like a stream of thought, just push on, one more move, you will eventually make it, maybe.

And finally (the reason why I lowkey wanted someone to send me Logan): songs that I casually put on at 9 pm, blacked out, and next thing I new it was several hours later and I had written a couple thousand words of Logan-centric smut (Alternatively: I wrote porn of him to these songs. Ether strike is on here twice cause I cannot decide which one asdfgh)

[hakoniwa-h]

↑Mii「The title is 'Manners Violation'」 　This one phrase sums up what I want to say. Around May 16, 2024, it became apparent that a blog called "A (pseudonym)" mentioned “this account is my account but japanese & much cooler” Some people seem to have mistakenly followed my blog thinking it was updated by "A." This is either a joke or a lie by "A." The updater of this blog is named TOBIKO HAKONIWA. I run a four-panel manga site called 「マロングラッセと日向夏」（Mean：Mallonglaces and Hyuganatsu / This name is used as a code name for the character and has nothing to do with the actual dish.).

When I reblogged and wrote directly on the mentioned site, there was a response acknowledging our awareness, so I intend to end further mentions with this article. Japan has a very ritualistic and apology-centric culture, so I was a bit confused about being thanked, but I decided that this is fine.

To add my personal opinion, viral media has both good and bad aspects, and it is dangerous not to recognize and act with both in mind. In cases like this, where someone with a well-known blog spreads a 'lie,' I get caught up in having to explain myself. I am a bit angry at the person because I am the type who would rather spend the time for 'explanation' on 'creating works' and 'publishing works,' and I am very 'fed up.'

My blog has a certain history, and because I have a personal site and some experience in online activities, I had a vague understanding of what actions I should take. However, if this blog were my only site and if there were no excellent translation sites like ChatGPT, there would still be people who mistakenly believe my blog to be his.

As you can see from my blog ARCHIVE, this blog started on May 25, 2014. (It's almost 10 years now!) Before opening a blog on Tumblr, I used a Japanese blog service called Seesaa, so there is a bit more history. It was free to use, but ads started appearing (which later became an issue with Tumblr as well), and since I didn't like that, I moved. Even though Tumblr also had ads, I ended up staying here for a long time.

The recent issue stemmed greatly from my poor English skills and lack of understanding of Tumblr culture. While my PROFILE was written in Japanese, as a Japanese speaker, I am a minority in the mostly English-speaking Tumblr environment. This blog is a fan blog about Mii, and "my" presence is secondary, like “KUROKO-SAN” in the Japanese version of "Tomodachi Collection." However, this led to the recent trouble.

↑KUROKO-SAN,A shadowy figure supporting the lives of Mii in Tomodachi Collection（JP） Shop Keeper. KUROKO（Wikipedia）https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kuroko As a countermeasure, I have added more English descriptions to my self-introduction. Additionally, for longer texts, I will include both Japanese and English versions.

If the post is short and only contains photos, I will provide explanations in Japanese only, as usual. (Because it's too much of a burden for me otherwise.)

(I used ChatGPT & DeepL)

【Related posts】 ■This account is "TOBIKO"s account. https://www.tumblr.com/hakoniwa-h/750603335353139200/