#I’m so sorry it took me this long to answer!!!!

[kumkaniudaku]

Requesting sadness 15: “I can’t do this anymore.” w/ Terry Richmond but it could be an unrequited love story that maybe was reciprocated idk

@pocketsizedpanther put NFL!Terry in my mind and this is what came up.

Silence. Unusual, unbearable silence. The kind of silence that hung in the air thick like humidity in Georgia, choking the life out of every living being in its vicinity. 

Silver forks scratched porcelain plates while two lovers sat across from each other trying to salvage a romantic dinner gone awry before it could ever start. Terry sensed the discomfort when he flew into town with no welcoming hug at the end of the tarmac. She left no text, no call, not even an insight into her whereabouts via Instagram stories. Only an empty space where her pretty red BMV usually sat awaiting his return. 

She hadn’t been in the stands lately either. From the cloudless skies of Los Angeles to the bitter chill of Philadelphia, she was a mainstay on the sidelines, wearing his last name on her back like a badge of honor. But tickets had gone unclaimed here and there. Not enough to raise alarms, but enough for him to bring it up as they dug into the night’s dinner. 

“If you wasn’t trynna be in the cold, that’s cool too. It’s just…you know. I wanted you to be there to see us win the conference. It’s kind of a big deal. First time in like six seasons or something like that. I don’t know. I just got here.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’d rather make sure you’re good than get tight over a game. Football isn’t more important than you. You straight?” He shoveled a forkful of branzino into his mouth, looking across the table for a response that she never provided. “Tia, what’s up? You feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Did I forget something?” 

“No.” 

“Somebody DM you something crazy? Fans bothering you again? Let me know something.” 

Her distant stare slowly drifted to his face with tears welling in her waterline. “I-Terrence, I can’t do this anymore?” 

“Do what? What you mean?” He knew. He’d seen the text messages and how she rushed out of the room to answer phone calls. The rumor mills and blind item reports never missed a beat. Atlanta wasn’t a city for secrets. But, he prayed that they’d been mistaken. Taking a sip of his water, he took a deep breath and repeated himself. “What can’t you do anymore? Sneak around like I can’t see you? Lie? Cheat? What is it, Tia?” 

Each question came out louder than the one before, making Tia wince in her seat. 

She knew he’d never put his hands on her. Terry was too sweet for that. So sweet that it made life boring. Being a kept trophy wife wasn’t her speed, but she allowed him to woo her in the VIP section of a club in Las Vegas and drag her back to a slow life full of WAG meetings and nosey neighbors. The thrill of being All Star tight end Terrence Richmond’s girlfriend lost its luster the moment engagement rings and wedding dresses became the topic of every conversation. 

One-night stands turned into sneaking around during long road trips until feelings and another life threw a wrench in what was supposed to be a quick fling with someone far too stupid to be a long-term beau. She’d fucked up. 

“It’s not you,” she choked out, trying to offer him some solace. “He was around when you weren’t and I-”

“Bro, don’t explain that shit to me! You don’t think I’m lonely sometimes? That I don’t meet women ready to fill a void if I snap my fingers? C’mon, Tia. This me you talkin’ to right now! Stop playing in my face!” 

He was fuming and fighting to keep his emotions at bay as he paced across the lavish dining room. 

Tia drew in a deep breath to calm the tears forcing a painful lump into her throat. “I’m sorry, Terry. I know I messed up. I embarrassed you and I’m so fucking sorry for that.” 

“Did you fuck him?” Dread attacked their bellies simultaneously. Seconds passed so slowly that he looked over at the wall clock to make sure time wasn’t standing still. Her silence became confirmation. 

She swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m pregnant. Yesterday makes eight weeks. Terry...”

“The Houston game, wasn’t it. When you said you got sick halfway through and had to leave early. You lied in front of my mama and got pregnant while she was worried about you. You fuckin’ sick in the head, Tia, what the fuck!”

Any explanation Tia intended to offer became lost in a swirl of profanity and angry shouting. Betrayed was the prevailing sentiment. All of his hopes for a family smiling back at him before pre-game intros were dashed, leaving him grieving in real-time. He blamed himself for believing that she was ready for something serious and ignoring the warnings. Now, all he had to show for his blind optimism was a broken heart. 

Tia watched Terry dissolve into a near rage with tears ruining her foundation as they poured without ceasing. All of the trust, all of the love they’d built in two years together was washed away by her selfishness. 

“You gotta go,” he finally managed to grit through clenched teeth. “Get the fuck out. Nah, fuck it. I’ll go. You stay until I can get some shit figured out, but you can’t stay here past the weekend.”

“Terrence! I don’t have anywhere to go!” 

“That’s not my fuckin’ problem! Call your sister or that nigga or some shit, I don’t care. All I’ve ever done is take care of you. If you think you can keep makin’ a fool outta me, you got the wrong motherfucka. This shit is over. Forreal this time!”

“But, I can’t -” 

“What the fuck are you fighting for, Tia? You made your decision. Deal with that shit!”

Sobbing and pleas to rethink his decision hit the condo’s walls like bricks, likely fueling a noise complaint that would be slapped on the door come morning. Tia listened to Terry rifle through drawers and closets on the hunt for enough to get him through a few nights at the Four Seasons. 

He just needed to blow off some steam. They’d been in this place before, angry and screaming at the top of their lungs behind her indiscretions, only to come back together and push the pain of the past to the far recesses of their mind. But, as he stomped his way out of the front door and into the night without so much as a second look, the future became more clear. 

He was gone. For good this time.

[romancecroc]

Lucanis Romance (Pt. 2)

This is an alternative take on finishing his companion quest (confronting Illario after saving Catharina). In this version, the whole "I made paella and your favorite" drink did not happen.

Things have felt different between them. Especially after Spite somehow dragged Rook into Lucanis’s subconscious and helped them align on a goal.

Nothing had really happened before that. Just the occasional lingering glances. Hands brushing against each when nobody could see. Overprotectiveness during battles.

But with all that was going on, it was almost impossible to find quiet moments. To reflect. Or to talk. 

And with all her confidence, Rook didn’t dare bring the topic up again. Nor make a move. 

But she felt closer to him. Especially after witnessing all his inner troubles, his regrets. 

But was that enough? How would you name this? Having feelings for someone, feeling close to them and yet… nothing happening?

What exactly did I want to happen?

The thought caught Rook off guard.

Guilt was starting to build up. They never said they were in a relationship after all. Lucanis didn’t owe her anything. 

But at the same time… there was a sense of frustration?

“Rook! Are you listening?” Teia said, waving her hands.

“Ah.” Rook responded, finally snapping out of it.

She was in Trevisio. They were getting ready to save Catharina and set Illario straight.

Teia and Viago were preparing, but Lucanis was nowhere to be seen.

Apparently he would join in later.

“Don’t worry, Lucanis knows the plan. He’ll join you at the mansion. Are you ready to go?” Teia asked again, patting Rook’s shoulder.

“Yes, sorry. We will get Catharina out of the mansion and then we’ll confront Ilario at the gathering.” Rook said, mostly to summarize it for herself.

“What are you going to do with Ilario when all of this is over?”

Teia and Viago chuckled, grabbing their daggers and facing the exit.

“I’m sure our first talon will know what to do.”

And with that, they both vanished.

—

It didn’t take long to sneak through the mansion. The team had initially agreed to only send out Rook and Lucanis - the less attention they attract the better.

But where was he?

Rook noticed one of the hallways having more guards than the others. With a dagger in hand and magic in another, she swiftly took care of them within seconds.

Until she felt a presence behind her. 

Instinctively, she elbowed them in the stomach, using the opportunity to turn around and push them against the floor. Her mouth dropped when she was finally hovered above him, her knees digging into his arms, locking him in position.

“Not a bad move, Rook.” Lucanis said, coughing between his words.

“Are you insane? I could have killed you!” Rock angrily whispered, immediately putting her dagger away.

“Please, Rook. I let you tackle me. Why miss out on an opportunity to get overpowered by a beautiful woman? ” he answered, a chuckle between the coughs.

It should have made her happy. The small flirts between them.

But instead, it just reminded her about her own frustrations. The impatient feeling, the guilt.

Without responding, she got up and offered him a hand. Pulling him up.

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, concerned. He had expected a matching response.

“We should focus on the mission.” Rook responded, perhaps a little colder than she intended.

“Where do you think your grandmother is? I already checked the east wing, but no luck so far.”

It felt like he was catching on, but the mission’s urgency kept him from investigating further. Instead he started leading the way, casually sharing childhood memories whenever he saw something familiar. 

He hasn’t been home for so long - and yet she couldn’t bring herself to fully enjoy his stories. Once Catharina had been saved and Ilario confronted, Rook would return to the Lighthouse and spend some time alone in her room. Clear her head.

That sounded like a good plan at least.

“She must be here.” Lucanis said, stopping in front of a door not too far from his childhood room. 

Rook motioned to get ready, just in case.

Once the door opened, a cane started swinging around aggressively - until Lucanis grabbed it.

“My grandson!” Catharina gasped in disbelief.

Rook stepped away for a bit, not wishing to interrupt their reunion.

“You are mad as us. Why?!” Rook suddenly heard in her head.

Spite??

“Answer! It is…. distracting him!” Spite responded telepathically.

Rook wasn’t sure how Spite was talking to her. Based on how Lucanis was acting, he didn’t seem to be aware of it either.

I’m not mad. I’m just trying to focus.

“Hurt. Longing. Is it loneliness? No. It smells like… disappointment!” Spite continued on.

The last thing Rook wanted was a conversation about her feelings. With Spite. She imagined a mental block around her head - it must have worked because the last thing she heard was a disapproving growl from Spite. And then it was quiet again.

“Thank you, Rook! For returning my grandson.” Catharina said gratefully, looking over to Rook.

“He did half of the work. We should really bring you somewhere safe.” Rook quickly responded, rejoining them.

“Nonsense. Now go and stop Ilario, I won’t be far behind.” Catharina responded, waving her cane around again.

The expression Lucanis made, said enough  - there was no way to convince Catharina to change her mind..

—

“You must feel relieved having your grandmother back. Any plans for Ilario?” Rook asked, as they were approaching the gathering.

“I don’t know. But one way or another, he needs to pay.” Lucanis said, approaching the giant door.

One could hear Ilarios' speech from the outside. Monologues about how he was grieving Catharina’s death. How Lucanis was a shame to the family and the crows due to becoming an abomination.

And that he was taking the title of the first talon for himself.

“Whatever happens, I’m with you.” Rook said, preparing herself for battle.

“I know. Let’s finish this.”

And with that, the door was kicked open.

Everything happened so fast.

Ilario didn’t hesitate to attack Lucanis on sight, backed by venatori.

The crows, unsure who to believe, were fumbling around.

But like many other fights, this one was about to end quite fast.

“They will never accept you. You’re an abomination!” Ilarios screamed at Lucanis, almost like a child who wasn’t picked for a group activity. Most of his venatory allies had fallen by now.

“Are you sure you’re not stuck with a demon yourself, Ilario? Even Spite sounds saner than you do right now.” Rook said loudly, currently finishing off remaining venetario on the opposite side of the hall.

Embarrassment was plastered on Ilarios face. The sheer audacity of being compared to a demon. And despite having little backup left, he used whatever remaining blood magic he had to teleport himself past the crows.

“You will pay for this insult!” Illario yelled, appearing in front of Rook with a dagger in hand. Ready to stab her in the chest.

Growing up with the shadow dragons taught her well - especially on how to deal with crazy individuals that were about to stab you. There were different ways to make them stop,  even for a few seconds. They just need to believe they won. 

So Rook didn’t defend herself. Didn’t use any magic spells.

Instead she positioned herself in a way, so that the dagger would end up between her armpits. Her clothes were already torn at a few places, covered in blood. It would be hard to tell whether she was really hit or not. And a delusional blood mage wouldn’t know the difference either.

To dramatize the moment, Rook let out a terrible cry that melted together with Ilario’s victory laugh.

And multiple people shouting in the background?

Rook couldn’t focus too much on it, as she was busy taking a few steps back. Holding the dagger close, while she fell on her knees. And then to her sides, closing her eyes.

“Let this be a lesson for anybody who insults Ilario-”

The sound of something smashing against the wall echoed across the hall. Followed by a demonic snarl.

“They. touched. Rook! They die!” 

That must be Spite.

Oh���

Rook realized that she never discussed her cinematic move with the others. Neve was used to it. She had witnessed it too many times during their missions.

She hated it. But she couldn’t deny how it made enemies feel overconfident. Prone to making mistakes. Better to catch off guard.

But not something to do with unaware participants.

When Rook carefully opened her eyes, another body flew against a wall. Ilario was still standing next to her, looking in another direction. His entire body tensed up in shock. Apparently Lucanis/Spite had been brutally throwing any Venatory standing in their way against the stone walls.

“Cousin, you need to calm down. They are already dead!” Teia yelled at Lucanis, but Viago held her back.

The final stand was Lucanis/Spite finally reaching Ilario, grabbing him by the throat and hurling him across the hall. The impact was strong enough to make Ilario break a few pieces of furniture in the process.

“Not. Enough. He needs to… suffer!” Lucanis and Spite shouted, as if they’d merged.

He quickly kneeled next to Rook and despite his pupils not being visible, his narrowed eyebrows showed enough concern.

“I’m fine.” Rook whispered, already feeling bad for the entire thing.

“No! He hurt you. He hurt us!” Lucanis/Spite responded back, hissing.

He was going to kill them all. If he hadn’t done so already.

“I think you already punished them well enough. Here, look.” Rook said, grabbing the dagger and pulling it out.

“See? No blood. Your cousin just has a terrible aim. He thought he won and that made him arrogant, distancing himself from his allies.” Rook explained, though she wasn’t sure how much lucanis/spite caught in their frenzied state.

“No… blood.” Lucanis/Spite whispered back.

During all this, Viago and Teia used the moment to tie Ilario down. All the other venatori were dead due to… impactful wall slammings. 

“You’re disgraceful, all of you. It’s not enough he’s an abomination, but he also kneels?! How the crows have fallen!” Ilario continued to shout, but his defeat was imminent. 

Rook slowly lifted herself off the ground, kneeling next to him.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about this little… stunt I use from time to time. Neve hates it too. I won’t do it again and-”

Lucanis pulled Rook against him, wrapped his arms around her as the purple glow in his eyes started fading away.  Burying his face against her neck.

“Never again.” he growled. 

Rook squeezed his arm as a confirmation. The embrace ended with him taking her hand and raising Rook back to her feet with him.

All the yelling subsided when Catharina finally entered the halls. Even Ilario finally closed his mouth.

Rook didn’t dare speak. As the situation calmed down, Teia and Viago complimented her on the dramatic stunt. Thanked her for all the help she’s given.

Rook politely nodded. She could feel Lucanis staring at her. Avoiding any instances of aggravating him further would be wise.

That, until Catharina announced him as the first talon. At this point, he was swarmed by crows. People who wanted to start building connections. Others who just wanted to share a celebratory drink.

Getting through the crowd would be impossible.

“I’m going home. Could you tell Lucanis when you catch him? I think I have worried him enough for one day.” Rook said to Viago.

He nodded and then sheepishly smiled at Rook. 

“What? What is it?” Rook asked, confused.

“Take care of my cousin, Rook. Enjoy your night.” he responded, slapping her shoulder in a friendly manner.

Rook shrugged and started heading towards the Eluvian. She looked back once more and managed to make eye contact with Lucanis. With hand motions, she quickly pointed towards the Eluvian and then waved goodbye. Before he could respond, Lucanis was swarmed by another wave of crows.

—

When Rook made it to her room, she wanted to throw herself onto the bed. What a day it was.

But these clothes had to go. 

She quickly slipped out of the blood soaked fabric that was already torn in a few places. Doesn’t look like it can be repaired.

She left it on the floor and moved to the baths. It was so late at night, she doubted anybody was going to notice.

After a good cleanup, a few bruises became visible. Nothing fatal. But some were going to stick around for a while. Especially the deep purple ones. 

Too lazy to dress up, Rook grabbed a robe and headed back to her bedroom. But she was hungry. There was no time to eat during the ordeal. Maybe the kitchen had something? Even just a snack.

She quietly snuck her way into the kitchen. Perhaps she could gather a few cookies and eat them in bed! Nobody would notice. It would be her little secret. It was also doubtful that Lucanis would already be back from his celebration.

“Rook.”

She froze. Her hand was so close to grabbing a cookie.

“Oh! You’re back already?” she responded, turning around. Caught in the act.

Lucanis was sitting on the couch. A cup in his hand, presumingly coffee.

“Yes.” he responded.

“I was actually going to come visit you in your room. After I had finished my drink.” he added.

“Visit me so late at night? Whatever for?” Rook responded as a joke.

But he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead Lucanis took another sip of his coffee.

“You’re wearing a robe.”

Suddenly Rook started feeling very shy. 

“Ah, yes. I was covered in blood and wanted to check for bruises. Nothing bad, luckily.”

There was tension. And she wasn’t sure in which direction it was going to go.

The sound of her heartbeat made it difficult to focus.

“I… should go. Get out of this bathrobe.” she added and slowly took a step back.

“A good idea.” he said, taking the last sip. And then placing the cup back on the table.

“You can then show me the bruises.” 

It took a moment for her to register what he said.

That, until he stood up and started walking towards her. Rook took another step backwards, only to find herself clashing against the kitchen table behind her.

It was too late now. Any means of escape were blocked. Lucanis stood in front of her, resting his hands on both sides - pinning Rock against the table.

“I thought you were dead.” he finally said.

Lucanis didn’t shy away from eye contact. Rook looked down instead, ashamed. At least until he gently lifted her chin.

“I was going to kill them all.”

His hand slowly moved to her cheek, caressing it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” she whispered back.

“You didn’t think I would react?” Help me understand, Rook.”

“No! It’s just… I didn’t think you would react like that. I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t sure where I stood with you, so I decided to focus on the mission and do my thing.” 

“And has today cleared your doubts?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her lips.

She didn’t respond. And somehow she already felt breathless.

“Mierda.”

His lips clashed against hers. It didn’t take long for Rook’s to wrap her arms around his neck. Her hands grabbing onto him. Lucanis lifting Rook and placing her on the kitchen table, keeping her close.

It felt needy. Urgent. Especially when his tongue was starting to dance with hers, moaning into her mouth. 

He grabbed onto her waist, pressing himself against her. From all the movement, Rook’s bathrobe was starting to slip and any exposed shoulders were bitten, licked or kissed. 

What they didn’t realize was all the noise. Every moment caused a plate to fall. Cutlery clashing against other metallic objects. 

They finally froze when somebody yelled “What is going on down there?!”

After that, silence. Followed by quiet chuckles between them.

“I know it’s not honorable, but we could pin it on Manfred.” Rook suggested, fixing her robe.

“Hmm… No, I’ll tell them the truth.” Lucanis smirked, kissing Rook on the forehead and giving her space again. 

“And what is that? Sorry, I was fooling around in the kitchen?” Rook asked.

“Fooling around is a temporary notion. I intend to keep you for a long time.”

Lucanis smirked again, witnessing Rook blushing. 

“Now go rest. I’m still planning on inspecting your bruises sometime soon.”

Before Rook could respond, Lucanis had returned to his room. 

Falling asleep would be difficult after such a promise.

[msmisasoup]

Drunk tears are Sober Repress. 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋───.ˑ·♪

{𝘔𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘮𝘪 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦r}

warnings : Drunk Megumi >_< pre-relationship! Underaged drinking? Kind of? Just literally pure fluff. English isn’t my first language so plz don’t flame me :’) Modern Au!! :D and they are seniors in high school?? (Both reader and Megumi is 17) FIRST FIC open to criticism :) NOT PROOFREAD 😭

Word count : 700+

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

Clashing was heard as a student stumbled across the hallway of the dormitory as high heels clacked loudly on the wooden floor , chasing the unknown drunk. You quickly closed your textbook , that you were skimming through , to peek your head out of your door.

“Shh..Shut up!” Nobara whispered as loud as she can to not alert other students but to reprimand as well. Her eyes glimmered when she saw you.

“…..Hi pretty.” Her gaze soften. Your hair fell across your face as your lips parted at the sight of Megumi’s collar being pulled. Nobara dressed nicely , her shirt tucked in her long beige skirt.

“Were you guys out?…..before an exam day?” You questioned.

“This is Gojo’s fault I must say. He thought it would be a good idea to let Megumi…. drink for the first time.” She sneered while looking down at the unconscious figure. She clearly looked a little tipsy as well , she just handled it well. Megumi quickly escaped from her grasp to stand still , holding the walls.

“I’m gonna crash out. All yours. Bye!” Nobara blew a kiss and ran away. She obviously knew your infatuation with him and wanted to give you a chance. He laid his back on the walls as he hung his head low. His hair was all messy and his forehead shining with sweat.

“….Fushiguro?” You tilted your head to try to look at his face but flinched when he shot his head up. He mumbled something under his breath that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“….Wanna come in?-“ He rushed towards you from the hallway to the door , wrapping his arms around you gently. His head rested on shoulder , his muscles tightening as you graze your fingers on back , patting him awkwardly.

You pulled your hand out to close the door as you felt yourself pushed back into your dorm. The door shut before he pushed you on your bed , your hair sprawled out. Your hands were on the bed at the sides of your head.

“Why didn’t you come for drinks.” Megumi trapped you with both his arms on the side of your head. You could smell the stench of alcohol in his breath.

“‘Was studying.” You chuckled. Megumi buried his head in your neck , pushing his weight onto you. You could feel your neck soaking up his tears as he sniffled.

“Time out..” You patted his back once again. He lifted himself up and sat on the bed as you sat up. His cheeks were still stained with his tears before you quickly wiped them with your hand. You stood up , getting him a glass of water and sat down again. He took a small sip and placed it on your side table.

“Gojo forced me to drink.” He muttered. “I see.” You nodded understandingly.

“I miss you.” He murmured while looking at your table , messy with books. “I see.” You cringed at your response , cheeks blushing with the tint of beetroot.

“You still miss me?” You responded with another. “Am I with you?” He tilted his head towards you , questioning.

“……yes?” You answer unknowingly.

“No.” Megumi suddenly said as the correct answer. You tilted your head towards your shoulder , confused with his statement.

“‘M not with you.” He repeated. You bit your lip , grimacing at your slow-witted brain.

“You’re real dense.” He chuckled and you just shrugged. His laughter echoed through your mind like a fossil of your brain. That’s when you finally realised what he meant and you buried your face in your lap before he patted your back. You brought yourself back up and started stuttering.

“Meg- ‘M sorry. Fushiguro-“ You were cut off again when he tapped your chin up , silencing yourself before kissing you. His mouth still reeked of alcohol and you were sure you were going to get drunk too. Your hands crept up to his neck as he caressed your back , deepening the kiss. He pulled away , a string of saliva intertwined your lips like an invisible red string.

A single tear fell on your cheek but soon more came falling down like a waterfall. He quickly wiped them with his soft graze before he passed you the glass of water you had given him before. You took a small sip before placing it on the other side of your night table.

Megumi pulled you on his lap and instinctively started rubbing your back when you rested your head on his shoulder.

……You were the drunk one. He had forced down a glass of love down your throat and you wouldn’t know if you could cry if it wasn’t drank.

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

[daylesspax]

Favorite transformers ship, favorite mech out of all of them (or a list)

and fic recs? Just because I wanna get to know you

Okay! So sorry it took so long to answer this, lmao

My favorite ships rotate every month depending on what fanfiction I’m reading

Currently, my favorite ship is Jazzprowl!

My favorite character also rotates depending on the fanfictions I’m reading, but Rodimus is a classic for me ;)

For fic recommendations… wow, I have a lot but I obviously can’t name all of them so I’ll give a short list of some good ones (almost all of them are finished)

The Crime in Crystals series by Aard_Rinn, amazing Jazzprowl and exquisite world building and storytelling! Super fun and amazing badass moments!

And I Alone Have Escaped To Tell You by astolat, a time travel fic centering around a G1ish Cyclonus, very fun time with an engaging plot and incredible characterizations! I adore this rendition of the classic Cyclonus!

Echoes of Messatine by MileMusketeer… Ooh boy, this one is a doozy. This fic is a long-term commitment, and it will take you for a ride— Megatron angst and dark topics galore!

The Echo Garden by AltraViolet is a classic in my opinion, a masterpiece in worldbuilding and some truly professional work on Soundwave’s character arc! Some of the most well-done content on the Rodimus/Soundwave ship, on the use of dimension travel, and with the Lost Light in general!

Attack on Prime by melishade! Because of course I’m going to promote it lol, this is an incredible, in-depth crossover story of Attack on Titan and Transformers Prime— I consider this a personal classic and one of the best TF crossovers I’ve had the joy of experiencing :)

I have none-TF recs too but I really don’t feel like listing more… 😅

Read my fic, Exception, too if you want, idk, I think I did okay on it

[chimivx]

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part six} 7k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

“It’s a little hypocritical, V.”

The door to the hotel weighed a thousand pounds. Slippery hands and intoxicated muscles could barely budge it an inch. Laughing to himself, Vernon took the handle from you over your shoulder and moved you backwards to pull it open, the two of you stepping into the vestibule.

“I don’t think it is, Isla,” he said, keeping his voice between the two of you, unlike you, still wobbling and unable to consciously realize how loud you were actually talking. Holding his arms out behind you as you took a slight stumble backward, he gave you a gentle push toward the second door, this one just as heavy. “Let me-”

“No,” you spat, then giggled. Wrapping your hands around the cool metal of the glass door you tugged backward once, twice, then three times before you were able to finally work it open. “Aha!” you cheered, throwing a look back at him.

What you didn’t see, what your tipsiness failed to pick up on was the way he shoved his foot in the bottom of the door to help you pull it open.

“Good job,” he mumbled with a tiny smile. “I’m not a hypocrite.” 

Wandering into the lobby lit with dim lightning now that the clocks had ticked past midnight, you bickered like you would back at Nasara, a lighthearted thing, something that essentially meant nothing. 

Spinning in a half circle to point at him, eyebrows raised, you whispered, “Hypocrite.”

“I didn’t have time to answer you,” he groaned in a way that told you he was simply playing along. Rolling his head backward, taking his eyes with it in the process, he tilted his chin to the side when he looked at you, a smile playing on his lips. “They do things differently here, I’m not able to be on my phone right before a game.”

Crossing your arms over your chest you popped out a hip. “You could’ve said something after.”

Drawing his eyes all over you, he shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “You’re right,” he shrugged, “I’m sorry, Isla.”

The chocolate of his eyes beckoned you closer, but you stayed put. Letting the rubber of your sneakers melt into the floor, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t budge, no matter how his gaze was making you feel. Heat rose to your cheeks before it rushed through every inch of your body. Clutching your arms tight, he took note, then averted his eyes to the floor trying to resist the smile that longed to break out onto his face.

“Did it help?” Your whisper had his eyes latching back onto yours. “The message?”

Lips tipping up, he hesitated a moment, then bobbed his head. “Yeah,” he said with a breath. “It did. Thank you.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded with him and took a breath to steady your beating heart. “Course,” you said. Your gaze lingered too long on his neck, on the shirt that draped over his shoulders, one button undone where the silver chain peeked through the fabric. Skin so smooth, insatiable, you could taste it, like you did in September. You had littered his skin with the delicate purple bites, yours soft, barely tainting his complexion, unlike what Mingyu had done to you, so harsh, as if to claim you.

Face buried in your hair, nose pressed to your temple, parted lips brushing your ear, his soft sounds mixing with yours injected straight into your heart. Arms wrapped around you, one under your head, the other holding your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin, tangling with your hair. Knees pulled back, legs wrapped around him, you held him close to you, kept him against you, moving with him, that cool silver chain like ice against your skin that burned with a fire you haven’t felt since.

How you longed to have his curls wrapped around your fingers like they were that night. How you yearned to have him whisper the things he did to you, both filthy and sweet, talking you through every second when words were unbeknownst to you.

You wanted to go back, wanted to be there, just you and Vernon in the locker room, at Nasara. You should’ve stayed, you shouldn’t have let those girls do what they did, shouldn’t have come home, shouldn’t have cursed out your therapist and stormed out of her office, shouldn’t have agreed to go out with Mingyu that night in December.

“You’re doing it again,” he whispered, pulling you from your thoughts. Flickering your eyes up to his, not realizing how low they had drifted, he smiled, lips pressed together tight. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said quietly in a silly voice to make you giggle. It worked. “Come on, upstairs, you’re going to your room.” 

Starting toward the elevators around a corner, your words whirled him right around. “Damn, punished for looking at you? Putting me in time-out?”

“Stop,” he snickered, waving you in front of him. You reached a hand out, but he pulled his into his chest. “Nope,” he popped the P, “You lead, I follow. No touching allowed.”

“Damn,” you said, slapping the arrow pointing up on the wall when you reached the hall of silver doors. “I am being punished.” Shooting him a side eye, you both broke into fits of laughter. Stepping into the space four tiny walls big, he placed you against one side and took up the other, pressing the number for your floor. Your eyes narrowed, studying him where he stood only feet apart from you. “How do you know where I am?”

His smile never faltered. “Because I am on the same floor.”

Your jaw dropped. “This whole time?” He slowly nodded his head. “What the fuck, no one told me?” A laugh escaped him in a breath as he looked up at the red numbers flashing on the wall. “Right,” you whispered, catching on. “Guess I didn’t need to know. That would’ve been weird.”

He turned his gaze toward you. “Why would it be weird?”

You blinked at him, unsure how to go about this answer. “I mean, we weren’t talking, and no one knew about us, we could’ve kept on going like we didn’t even know each other and no one would think twice about any of it.” His eyes softened. “Plus, you’ve said it, I have a… boyfriend, so why would I need to know where you’re staying? As much as I want to-”

He held up a hand, “Isla,” cutting you off before you spewed out things you shouldn’t be saying at the moment. The only person who knew to cut you off before you said something you didn’t want to say out loud. The elevator dinged, the doors pulling open. “It’s okay,” he said, following you out onto the carpeted hallway, sticking to your side as you walked the stretch a mile long. “Don’t do that with me.”

“Do what?”

“Your nervous rambling thing,” he whispered, looking down at you.

Right.

He knew your thoughts before you thought them.

“We’ll get through this,” he said. “This whole… start of whatever. It’ll work itself out.”

You paused your walk, ceasing his in the process. With a quiet sigh he turned to watch you. “So, you’re still upset?” The raise of his eyebrows was all you needed. “Okay,” you breathed, shaking your head, walking past him. He had to jog twice to catch up to your side.

“Iya,” he half laughed.

“No,” you said, shrugging. “Just needed confirmation. I fucked up, I know that. You’re upset, I know that. How do I fix it, I don’t know that.”

“It’s not that- I just-” Stuttering an ungodly amount of times, he groaned. “This is a good start.”

“What? Me drunkenly crying to you in your car for a half hour?”

He put a hand on your shoulder and your heart leapt into your throat. You looked up at his small smile. “Talking to you.”

You wanted to reach up and take his hand. Wanted to hold it, pull him closer, maybe even wrap an arm around him and hug him, but you knew he wouldn’t let you. It’s like Ryujin said, he’s too good of a guy. Turning the corner down an adjacent hallway, two voices arguing back and forth grew louder, echoing off the walls of the hotel hall. The two of you froze in place, both of your faces expressing your shock.

“I wasn’t lying to you,” your brother said to Mingyu who stood two inches from his face. Your stomach did cartwheels when your boyfriend who towered over DK whipped his head to the left and took in the scene before him. Vernon never moved faster, both hands flew into his pockets.

Taking a step back from your brother, Mingyu dropped his chin and sent the most chilling glare to the boy beside you. “What the fuck?” His deep voice bounced off the walls. Sucking in a deep breath, it left your lungs all too fast. You gave Vernon the quickest glance, then hurried down the carpet with him trailing many, many feet behind. “Are you drunk?” Mingyu asked as you approached his side, his death glare hitting Vernon once more. “What’d he do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” you said. “He brought me here. That’s it.”

He blew air through his lips, a snarky smile appearing right after. “Sure,” he said. “Like I believe that. The pictures online were cute.”

“What pictures?” you whispered, squinting up at him.

DK placed a hand on your arm, his eyebrows all flipped over. “Are you okay?”

You wanted to shake him off, but not with this Mingyu in front of you. “I’m fine, why?”

“You didn’t come back,” he said, tilting his head. “I said come back.”

“What’s the truth, Isla?” Mingyu put a hand to your shoulder, both of them holding onto opposite sides of you. Looking up at him, six feet, two inches tall, you gulped. His eyes were pointed, angry. “People are saying you were flirting with anything that walked, then he came and put you in his car. Took you a while to get back here, didn’t it? I know what you’re like when you’re drinking, what happened?”

Lips parting, face screwing up, you shook your head and scoffed. “And what am I like when I’m drinking?”

He grit his teeth and leaned over you, “A bitch in heat.”

“Okay,” DK raised his voice, pulling you away from Mingyu, stepping between the two of you. Without touching his teammate he held a hand toward his chest. “You’re drunk,” he said, then gestured to you, “You’re drunk,” he glanced at Vernon who had his own anger growing beneath the surface, “You can go, thank you, for everything, for calling me, thank you.”

He didn’t move. Mingyu started running his mouth again, nothing but bullshit about you and Vernon spilling out of it, him using your feelings against you, things you told him in complete sober confidence.

“You know, maybe you should’ve never told me you loved him, ‘cause how the fuck am I supposed to believe anything you say to me now?” His ears were burning red. His hands flew around a mile a minute. Pressing your hands to your middle, all you could do was stare at him. You didn’t tell Vernon you told him that. “You skip out on a night to celebrate with me, to be with him? Did you think I wouldn’t see it? It’s everywhere, Daya was the one to show me. I left the bar so fast, I came right here, I ran into you,” he tapped DK’s chest with a finger and you swore you could hear the way your brother gasped, “And you tell me that she was in trouble? That he helped her?”

“He did,” DK said steadily, not allowing his emotions to get the best of him while he stood between you and your raging boyfriend.

Mingyu tipped his head back and laughed. “Did he?” He shot his glare toward you. “Or did you fuck him in the car like I know you would want to?”

“Mingyu,” DK warned. Tears brimmed your eyes.

“Some guys at the bar were bothering me,” you whispered, fighting back a sob. DK reached a hand backward and grabbed onto one of yours. You stepped closer to him, fitting behind his frame. “He got me out of it, he helped me like DK said he did.”

“Bothering you?” he asked, and you nodded, slipping your bottom lip between your teeth. “Guys were?” You nodded again and he smirked. “That’s what you get for going without me.”

“She can do whatever the fuck she wants, you’re not her keeper, Mingyu,” Vernon spoke up, his voice matching your boyfriends in strength. “It wasn’t her fault. Those guys were creeps. I was just keeping her safe. I didn’t do anything else but get her out of a situation that could’ve been really bad.”

“What, you want me to thank you?” Mingyu curled his lip. “You’re not getting shit from me, I don’t care what you did. We’ve been perfect all this time, and now you two wanna screw it up.” A huff left your brother, but he couldn’t find the words to say. You could only imagine the look on Vernons face. “Isla, let’s go,” he said to you, trying to move around DK, but you moved with your brother as he took a step backward. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Mingyu,” DK said with utmost patience.

“Nah,” he sneered, trying to move around him again. “Let’s go, Isla.”

DK actually put his hand to his chest this time, and you swore Mingyu was going to blow his top. “Mingyu,” he said, louder. “She’s going to stay with me tonight. You can see her tomorrow.”

Jaw clenched, Mingyu looked from your brother, to you, to Vernon, then back to you. “Is that really what you want?” he asked. “To stay here, with your brother, when you could come with me?”

DK squeezed your hand, hoping you would answer the way he suggested, the way he advised. Blinking through tears, everything blurry now, you nodded ever so slightly and Mingyu groaned, obnoxiously loud, making you jump.

“Fuck both of you,” he spat at DK and Vernon, pushing past you, knocking into your brothers shoulder on purpose. Turning to watch him walk down the hall, DK kept you behind him, allowing you to watch over his shoulder. He towered over Vernon, leaned over him as he passed him, but your best friend didn’t so much as flinch. “You try anything and I’ll have your ass back down in triple A before the season starts.” 

The three of you were silent until he disappeared around the corner.

“He can’t do that,” DK said to Vernon, the two sharing a slight smile. “Even if he could, I wouldn’t let it happen. A lot of us wouldn’t.” Tears spilled over onto your cheeks, a gasp ripping through your chest. DK put you in his arms and walked you towards the door to his room, motioning toward Vernon to come with him. “Only if you want to,” he said, unlocking the door with the key from his pocket. “I just want clarity.”

Within twenty or so minutes the story had been told. You sat on the edge of DK’s bed while the two boys sat on the couch, a foot of space between them. Vernon let you do most of the talking, he only popped in when some details needed polishing, when he appeared at the scene of you at the bar, and then the journey to the car.

“We just talked for a while,” you said with a raise of your shoulders.

DK loosed a breath and sat back into the couch cushions. “Thank god,” he whispered. You and Vernon shared a look, then shot it toward him. “I thought you two were never gonna speak.” 

“What?” You and Vernon asked at once.

DK laughed. “The staring, it was driving us all crazy.”

“Us?!” You both said at once, again, laughing soon after. 

“Me, Shua, Kwan,” he said, thinking to himself. The three names were enough to have you laughing harder, but then he kept going, making you flop backward onto his bed. “Jihoon, Melody, most of the guys who came with us last night��”

“Okay,” you raised an arm in defeat, “We get it.” Sitting back up you were greeted by a solemn face, eyes full of sorrow. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Your brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For not going with you,” he said. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

Sliding your hands down your thighs to your knees, you squeezed them and shook your head. “I’m a big girl, Deeks, it’s okay.” His eyes narrowed, telling you it was not okay. The group of guys aside, he still sent you up to a bar by yourself. He wouldn’t even let you drink beneath his roof at home in Iloa, and he let you wander up to a bar by yourself in a room full of strangers. “Don’t do that to yourself,” you whispered. “I know better, I could’ve listened to you.”

He glanced to the floor. Giving Vernon a sideways glance before he looked back to you, he pulled his lips together. “Jagiya,” he spoke with all the care in the world, “I say this because I love you, because of what we’ve been through, and because I care about you more than I can say.” Vernon looked away, toying with his fingers. “You may know better, but,” he paused, shaking his head, “I don’t think your mind knows better. Your brain.”

He had something else ready to say, you could feel it behind his teeth, hear it in his hesitance while he waited for you to react. 

Quiet, letting his words get in your head like they never have before, you think about Diana, that sweet girl you met that day in the stadium. You think about what happened to you tonight at the bar. Looking at Vernon, you think about what’s happened between the two of you, how you could’ve had it all if your brain knew what was best for you.

You could’ve finished school, you could’ve had a degree. You’d still have your friends, you’d still have Vernon, you’d be living for yourself. You’d be showing all the young girls who followed you, like Diana, that it was possible to achieve things for yourself, that you didn’t need someone else's name to validate your own, family or not.

If your brain knew what was best for you you wouldn’t need to sip the alcohol, you wouldn’t need to get tipsy to feel happy, to not feel anxious. It wouldn’t have ruined relationships, ruined a future you were once kind of excited for.

He would say all of this, you knew that. He’d bring up every single one of these points, but he didn’t have to. They were already in your head. Him speaking up about it would only make the guilt worse.

“We’re here for you, Isla,” DK said with a nod. He looked at Vernon who returned his glance. “Right?”

Sitting backward, smoothing his hands over his legs, Vernon released a breath and looked your way. “We’ve spent a lot of time talking about this,” his voice was soft, warming your cheeks, “You and me. Mostly on the good days.”

A sigh escaped you, turning into a gasp as tears filled your eyes once more. “Good days? I’m at the point where my days are separated by good and bad?” DK leapt from the couch to sit by your side, grabbing onto your hands. Vernon sat forward, edging the couch. 

“I know you remember talking about it,” he smiled, continuing on like you weren’t crying into you and your brother's hands. “We would fuck around at the library, trying to not get in trouble sneaking around the rooms and floors we weren’t supposed to be in. You would tell me you were feeling good, that you felt proud of yourself, that you always wanted to feel that way.” He watched you with eyes full of love. “You were excited about a tomorrow.” 

“I was,” you whispered, leaning against your brother's shoulder.

Vernon, smiling, shut his eyes for a second. “You were,” he lowered his brows, “That was my girl. I wanted her happy, I wanted her to feel good, but it didn’t matter what I wanted. You needed to want it for yourself, and on the days that you did, I thought… Finally.”

You rolled your eyes. “And then I disappointed you, every time, I know how it goes.”

“You didn’t disappoint me,” he whispered. “Far from it. You fought, and you still do, and I’m proud of you for that.”

DK wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I’m proud of you, too.”

“Guys,” you whispered. “I suck.”

DK and Vernon shared a look.

“Does she suck?” DK asked.

Vernon raised a brow and glanced about the room. “Hm,” he hummed. “No, I don’t think she does.

“That’s funny,” your brother said. “I don’t think she does either.”

“I think she needs to drink some water, maybe go to sleep,” Vernon said, teetering his hands side to side, weighing the options sarcastically. DK nodded along, humming with approval.

“Maybe talk about this tomorrow?” your brother suggested. “After a coffee and some good breakfast?”

Vernon slapped a hand to his stomach, groaning in delight. “Ugh, breakfast, you’re so right.”

They kept going until you were laughing, your tears coming to a close for the night.

“I love you a lot,” DK said to you, shaking you gently.

Vernon glanced to his hands, rubbing them together. “Yeah, so do I,” he whispered.

SIlence surrounded the three of you, all of you taking the time to let the words spoken sink in, marinate around you, within you. 

They were right, you knew they were.

Even if your brain couldn’t grasp it, the part that still wanted to cling to Mingyu for whatever reason even after what had happened in the hallway, they were right.

Standing up, your brother following, you held open your arms and he fell right in, slinging his around your back. “I love you,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “Thank you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered, rubbing a hand in circles between your shoulder blades. “I’m sorry for not being there tonight. For only paying attention when I thought you’d been gone for too long.” Grabbing his shirt in fistfulls to insinuate your ‘It’s okay’, you pulled away from him and gave him half a smile.

Turning around to Vernon who had stood up, you pressed your hands into your thighs and took a deep breath. He did the same. But, then he opened his arms, and he dipped his chin down, offering the space to you. 

It was embarrassing really, how fast you flew into his hold, how quick you were to throw your arms around his waist and how hard you squeezed him. Burying his face in your neck, one hand to your hair, the other around you, he took a deep breath you could feel, you could hear, and the tears found their way back to your eyes. Having sobered up a bit since the bar, you could comprehend it this time, how it felt to hold him, touch him, have him touch you, hold you. 

You wanted to live here. 

He knew you. He loved you. He never judged you.

He was able to say it all with the way his lips brushed against your cheek. Not a kiss, but the softest touch, one barely noticeable.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back, and he smiled.

“I know.”

Within the next ten minutes Vernon and DK were shaking hands at his door and you were changing in your room, waddling back to your brother's room, tucking yourself into one side of his bed. He joined you in minutes, tossing you a bottle of water before turning off the lights and taking his side of the bed. Shuffling beneath the sheets, the both of you getting comfortable, feeling like you were children all over again, you were finally able to rest.

It was quiet for a while, minutes ticking by in silence until you whispered, “I have to break up with Mingyu,” and your brother giggled a little too loud.

Your phone was dead when you woke up.

Surprisingly, you were not.

Able to wiggle your fingers and toes, move your arms and bend your knees, you could sit up without wanting to vomit all over yourself. And, you were wearing clothes!

That didn’t mean you felt fantastic.

The atrocious post-sex fatigue wasn’t there, but the need for a mimosa was.

Through the kitchen and down a little hallway lived the bathroom. The shower was running and the quietest voice, singing something you couldn’t make out could be heard.

DK.

You were in his room, swallowed by his pillows. Thank god. He and Vernon got you here, they helped you, and the conversation they had with you rang in your ears, echoed within your head. It was time to do better. It was time to be better. Before something awful happened.

You’d consider what happened between you and Vernon to be awful enough, you weren’t quite sure it could get worse until it did. You were tired of them having to clean up your messes. It’d been growing incredulously exhausting letting people down, giving them hope only to rip it away within hours. 

Everything you wanted was in front of you, waiting for you, hoping for you.

This time, you weren’t going to screw it up.

The shower shut off, but the humming continued. DK strolled out in a t-shirt and shorts moments later, his wet hair pushed backward to dry. Wandering about the room for a bit, situating his luggage, hanging up his bath towels, going in and out of the bathroom to brush his teeth, you watched him the whole time. It wasn’t until he finally looked your way that he jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus, Jagi,” he hissed, hands flying to his chest. “How long have you been awake?”

Laughing, you sat up and reached for your feet to stretch. “Since the first round of Celine Dion in the shower.” 

Releasing a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “The acoustics are great here, what can I say?”

The sound of his voice echoing in the bathroom played through your head, and you laughed again. Sucking in a deep breath, you belted, “ANNND I-” You were molly whopped by a pillow he threw at your face. “Hey!” Sitting back up like you were, the pillow having totally knocked you backward, thank you best pitcher in baseball, you heaved it his way but it didn’t reach him.

“That was Whitney Houston you uncultured motherfucker,” he joked, both of his brows skyrocketing on his forehead. After another laugh out of you, he cracked one too. “Get it right.”

“So sorry,” you said. “What are you doing today?” you asked, watching him kick around his shoes, looking for a matching pair. 

“Hanging out with you, I thought,” he said, giving a look.

“It’s your day off and you want to spend it with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, sitting down on the end of the bed to tie his sneakers. 

Pushing the covers off of yourself you slipped out of bed and stretched your arms over your head, occasionally remembering some of the exercises you learned in class once upon a time. “I just thought you’d want to do something else,” you breathed, reaching down to touch your toes.

“Hm, I don’t,” he said and you huffed a laugh. “Breakfast, remember? We’re going out, some place fun, during the day.”

Standing up straight, you smiled. “Got it.”

He went back to fidgeting with his shoes. “Anything else you want to do while we’re here? Have you shopped at all?” You rounded the bed, ending up at his side. “I remember those stores you like down by the beach, maybe we go down there?” Looking up at you, his eyes traveled from your smiling face to your outstretched hand. “Yes?”

“Can I use your phone for a second?”

He glanced backward at the bed. “Where’s yours?”

“Dead,” you said, wiggling your fingers. “Hand it over.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just have to send a text,” you shrugged, “And, I’m not really sure I wanna charge mine. Could be interesting to keep it off all day, not go on it, to not be stuck in a forever scroll.”

Blinking up at you, he thought about it, then nodded. “Fair,” he muttered, wiggling the phone from his back pocket, slapping it onto your palm.

“You have Mingyu’s number right?” you asked, swiping open to his messages, the first thread in his inbox from Vernon last night. Groaning, he stood and adjusted his shirt.

“Are you kidding me,” he nearly whined, “Charge yours if you’re gonna talk to him. I will not let you two converse through my phone.”

Creating a new thread with him, you typed out a simple message and hit send, placing the phone back into your brother's hand. “There,” you said with a smile. “Let me get ready, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He watched you scramble your way out of his room, the door shutting with the loudest slam. Out of pure curiosity he glanced at his phone screen and the message that had been read the second it was sent.

[dk]: This is Isla. Phones dead. We need to talk at some point today, please. I’m going out with DK today, don’t let it piss you off.

Every eye in the room pointed towards you. Doors to the restaurant closing behind you, the place quaint, bright, airy, every head seemed to turn, and not because you were standing with four members of the Lions starting line up. They didn’t look at your brother, Vernon, Joshua, or Seungkwan. They stared at you.

Parents of families, groups of girls your age, couples tucked into booths, everyone wide eyed like they were fighting to look at anything else, anyone else, but they couldn’t.

“Just five of us,” DK smiled at the hostess who nodded toward him after glancing at you over his shoulder. Wearing his smile as he turned to face you and your friends, without mentioning the elephant in the room, he muttered, “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Seungkwan yawned, pressing the back of his hand to his lips. His blonde hair dusted his lashes, the cut short in the back yet longer over his forehead. With your arms folded over your chest your eyes scanned the room, then ended on him doing the same thing. Shooting you a side eye for a second, he threw an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into him.

He didn’t have to say anything else.

Following the hostess to a table on the far left side of the restaurant, far away enough from the people staring yet close enough to not feel alienated, the boys situated themselves into seats, Seungkwan pulling one out for you beside Vernon and himself. You were to be sandwiched between them.

Wandering out of your room this morning in a leather mini skirt and a vintage Haos sweater your mother wore in her early twenties, the three boys greeted you with wide smiles and squishy hugs. A complete surprise, you squeezed them all, even Vernon. He saved himself for last, letting the other three lead the way out of the hall so he could hug you tight.

You assumed this breakfast was for you and your brother, but he had said it himself, they were your friends too, and it was evident in the way they cared for you just as DK would. Sitting here at the table they helped you fix a cup of coffee, helping each other too, they spoke quietly and asked you a thousand questions to distract you from the people whispering in the booth behind you.

Vernon fit right in. After two weeks you assumed he would, you said it since the start, this was his element. He and Seungkwan had the most chemistry, the two had inside jokes already they weren’t afraid to crack across your lap as they leaned over the table with grins miles wide to laugh at one another. DK and Joshua, older than the three of you, got stuck deep in their own discussion that Seungkwan had to kick them under the table when the waitress appeared to take your orders.

“Oh!” The woman turned right around after Seungkwan handed over the menus stacked together. “I forgot to tell you, we have drink specials, bottomless mimosas, brunch cocktails, if you check out that little menu right here,” she pointed to a short leather triangle in the center of the table, “It has everything on it.”

DK reached for it and handed it to her with a dazzling smile. “Thank you, but we’re good,” he said with a curve of his brow. “More coffee would be great, though.”

“Please,” Seungkwan groaned, dragging his hands over his cheeks. Joshua cracked a laugh.

“No problem,” the woman smiled, then she was off.

“Puh-lease,” Joshua mocked Seungkwan, propping his elbows on the table, smacking his palms to his cheeks. Gaze dancing between them, a smile on your lips, they bickered and laughed like siblings, your brother included. You were so enthralled by the entertainment in front of you, surrounding you, you barely noticed the finger poking your knee.

Vernon sat back in his chair, his legs extended in front of him. He didn’t look at you when you looked at him, but he pulled his hand back into his lap and the tiniest smile graced his lips. 

“Yes?” You kept your voice quiet, just between the two of you.

He slid his eyes over to you. “I missed you.”

It was impossible to fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. “You just saw me last night.”

He nodded, glancing down to his lap. “Not just since last night,” he whispered. Taking a breath, he looked at you and said, “I’ve been missing you.”

A breath shot through you, forcing you to look around at your brother and your friends who were paying no mind to the two of you, the three of them in their own world, Joshua and Seungkwan arguing over something while DK lost his shit.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, sitting your chin in your hands, propping your elbows on the table. Opening your shoulders to him, he met your eyes and held them, life moving on around the two of you, voices echoing past you like they were nothing. “Thanks for last night,” you said. “I owe you.”

He twisted his brows and gave you a look. “Owe me? Shut up, you don’t owe me anything.”

“How many times are you gonna save my ass without me returning the favor?”

Eyes softening, he breathed through a laugh and shook his head. “Something’ll come up eventually, I-”

“Mingyu?”

The near shout of his name made the entire table freeze. Vernon, mid sentence, leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the booth behind you, DK doing the same. Seungkwan slid a hand over the wood and wrapped his fingers around your arm. Joshua sat tall in his chair, barely moving as he surveyed the situation. 

“He’s not here,” Vernon muttered, and you released a breath you’d sucked in. DK relaxed as well, shaking his head. “They’re just talking.”

“Do not like how that just set us all off,” Joshua mumbled, elbowing your brother in the shoulder. Furrowing your brows, giving them each a look, you end with your brother.

“What do we all know?” you questioned, reaching for the glass of water in front of you. DK poked his tongue between his lips, his eyebrows popping as he sat forward and glanced to his friends for help. “We have plenty of time,” the way you smiled made them all shudder, “Explain yourselves.”

About an hour later, half empty plates scattered over the table, empty coffee mugs lined in front of Seungkwan, each boy had given you their spiel about the boy you still could call your boyfriend. DK had expressed his grief to his friends at the start of your relationship, which in turn had you learning today that none of them really enjoyed the idea of you and Mingyu together, or the idea of Mingyu in general. Him, that side of the team, Hoshi and Minghao, they didn’t judge them for who they were or what they did, but ultimately decided amongst themselves that it was the principle of it all. 

Values aligning, morals clashing, something like that.

Vernon didn’t have much to add, he simply listened, observed, but nodded along, having his own personal grief over Mingyu, only actually having known the boy for two weeks.

“So, we all don’t like him,” you said, tossing your napkin onto your empty plate. It was the first meal you’ve been able to finish in two weeks. DK, shoveling food into his mouth, rolled his eyes.

“Depends on who you’re asking for, and under which circumstances,” Joshua said, nodding at the same time as Seungkwan.

“Agreed,” the blonde pointed to his teammate. Wiping his hands with a napkin he sipped the rest of his umpteenth coffee and shook his head. “As a part of our team? As an outfielder? A baseball player? Good god, he’s unbelievable, we wouldn’t be what we are without him.” Both DK and Joshua exchanged a look of agreement. “But, when it comes down to him and what he does with his,” Seungkwan glanced at you momentarily, “Private relationships, or what should be private… I can’t get behind it.”

“Easy for you to say,” you said, sipping your water. “If you were with someone you’d have people doing the same thing to you. You’re single.”

Seungkwan smiled. “No, I’m not.” Joshua laughed aloud, slapping a hand to his mouth.

Jaw dropping, you flashed him a glare before shoving Seungkwan's shoulder. “What?!”

“Don’t you say a word,” Seungkwan whispered, leaning toward you.

“How do you not get blown up everywhere? This is like Woozi and Melody all over again, he hid her for like two years!” Your hands flew a mile a minute. “Is it just ‘cause it’s me? My parents? My brother?” Throwing a hand toward him, he frowned. “Sorry,” you said, rushed as anything. “I just don’t get it.”

Wearing a solemn face, Seungkwan rested a hand on your shoulder. “Because it’s what he wants.”

“Values, morals,” Joshua waved a hand around, “Blah, blah, blah.”

Exactly as Ryujin had said.

And Vernon.

Setting your glass down, you folded your hands on your lap and nodded. “Good to know. I’ve been blind.” A hand touched your shoulder, Vernon’s. He squeezed you, trying to reassure you, but somehow it didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. Flashing him a pout, he leaned closer to you and shook his head.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” he whispered.

“And that’s why your boyfriend cheated on you!”

It was those girls from the booth behind you, the ones who had been talking about you and your friends this entire time. They were standing up to leave, no older than you, dressed for the beach. Champagne glasses covered their table.

Whipping yourself around, Vernon retracting himself entirely, you finally opened your mouth. “Can you leave us the fuck alone?”

Her friends were trying to pull her out, they clearly wanted out of the place, when the boys turned around it was written all over their faces. They wanted nothing to do with what was about to happen. “You’re here like you don’t care,” she laughed, loud, acquiring eyes from around the place. “With him,” she sneered in Vernon’s direction, “We know what you did, Moon Isla.”

“I didn’t do shit,” you said with a smile. 

The girl, staggering backward as one of her friends finally got her to move, cackled one last time before she shouted, “Your boyfriend did!”

Heart sinking into your gut, you whirled towards the table and searched your pockets for your phone before remembering it was dead, and in DK’s hotel room. The boys whispered amongst themselves, their own eyes questioning shit while yours bugged out of your head. Looking from Vernon to Seungkwan, unsure of what to do with yourself, you finally decided to hold out your hand toward your brother. He knew in an instant what you wanted, the thing that lived on Do Not Disturb in his pocket.

The second he dropped it into his hand you were swiping for the internet, but not before checking his messages to see if Mingyu had ever answered your message.

[Kim Mingyu]: As soon as possible please.

You didn’t bother to answer it. You didn’t need his excuses, his empty words. Social media told you everything you needed to know, pictures flooded the feed with every refresh, people posting more and more as time passed. Your body went numb, fingers cold, stomach sick. Heart thudding between your lungs, breath quickening with each exhale, you threw the phone down onto the table and pressed your hands to your eyes, begging your conscious self not to sob.

Seungkwan took the phone, open on a photo, and gasped. Within seconds his arms were around you, he was whispering things to you, calming you while the phone got passed around and the boys riled themselves up. Angry, sad, betrayed, overwhelmed, you felt it all, but what you didn’t feel was blindsided. You’d seen this coming. Your strategic brain, what put you onto Yeji’s plan back at Nasara, had it figured out since Day One.

And, come to think of it, as much as this upset you, embarrassed you, Mingyu finally did one thing right. Shoving his tongue down Daya’s throat was about to do you so many favors.

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[oooohno]

I just....

Rengoku man, he's just taking over and clouding my brain. I don't know how to feel or what to do

Do you mean the super sweet fire hashira Rengoku that always makes sure to bring you some sort of gardening gift whenever he visits our village? The one that always shows up at your home with an extra sweet treat to share with you? The one that drops all of his other responsibilities to help you set up your ladder & hold you steady when you reach for the highest hanging fruits? And never lets you carry any of the baskets that are filled to the brim with produce? The one that always has an easy smile on his face when he gets to talk to you & looks at you with so much fondness? The one that jingles the wind chimes hanging from your big hat at the end of your shared time together with the promise to come again tomorrow if you let him? 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[daeyumi]

hcs for Link, GO!

cw: mention of possible self harm; mention of injury

spoilers for totk events & end of totk

okay so i’ll be doing these for botw/totk link since he’s the link i feel the most familiar with

also i’m sorry that this list ended up like 8 miles long lol & believe me i had to restrain myself a lot

- transmasc (he/him or he/they)

- aroace

- sleeps on his back

- NOT a morning person. he likes his sleep & has trouble waking up sometimes (so many ppl seem to hc him as an early riser but i just. don’t see it lol. i think he’s the kind of person who woke up from that 100 year nap asking for 5 more minutes)

- /can/ talk, chooses not to. when he speaks his voice always has that quiet scratchy quality to it like he hasn’t used it in a while

- likes having his hair brushed

- his hair is full of leaves & at least 4 different sticks at any given time

- loves puns. the stupider the better

- likes dressing pretty. he doesn’t get the chance to do it often & most of his clothes are caked in blood & sweat so it feels good to look nice occasionally

- #1 questionable food enjoyer

- big gremlin energy

- naturally warm hands

- probably has a sweet tooth

- a bit of a hoarder. a habit he picked up from being alone in the wild for so long

- favorite fruit- apples

- probably musically inclined & would be good at playing an instrument

- loves animals (also great with animals)

- really spontaneous & gets distracted easily

- his arm doesn’t magically grow back post-totk. after the end of the events of totk, he is missing his right arm up to the bicep & has heavy scarring around his right shoulder, basically the same area where the zonai tattoos were when he had rauru’s arm

- heavily scarred in general. this one is basically canon, but i figured i’d include it since link’s character model doesn’t have any visible scars (even tho robbie in botw mentions needing to see link’s scars as proof that it’s really him. give link visible scars nintendo u cowards)

- self conscious about his scars, especially the ones from pre-calamity era that he can’t remember how he got them. they’re a constant reminder of the missing part of his life

- (totk) extremely uncomfortable with having rauru’s arm attached to his body. he hates that it is not his own and it feels alien and strange to him even tho it still operates as if it’s a part of his own body. borderline wants to self harm bc he does not want “his” arm that does not belong to him- hates the sight of it but has to deal with it because of its usefulness to him

- doesn’t do well in social interactions that involve more than 1 other person. /maybe/ 3-4 if he knows them Really Well

- extremely uncomfortable with being known as the hero of hyrule actually

- moderate to severe insomnia. he’s been through a lot & has a ton of nightmares as a result

- definitely has some degree of ptsd

- feels extremely guilty about all the ppl he can’t remember from 100 years ago— he regrets their deaths, but more so than missing the people themselves, he feels guilty that he can’t even remember them to mourn them properly. complicated emotions surrounding this, he doesn’t like to talk about it.

[pinkmirth]

What do you think Reiner and his s/o would argue about in a relationship? I can't imagine it would last long

BACK TALK, reiner braun !

SYNOPSIS — just a fluffy lil drabble about reiner wanting to take care of you. he doesn’t want to argue, but you’re just so stubborn…

CONTAINS — 1k words of . . . fluff, fem!reader (black coded), “girly-girl” reader, reiner feeds you, lowercase intended, just sappy stuff with this caring gentleman <3 (kinda sorta self indulgent!)

this is a tough one, nonnie…. only because maturity is reiner’s best attribute! picking a problem with you is the last thing this man wants to do, and he’s very slow to anger. you’re right about any disputes not lasting long! even if he tried, reiner can’t stay mad at you.

the most that could happen between you and him are petty squabbles about preferences, something dumb like waffles over pancakes! the pair of you ultimately laugh it off and end up cuddling once all is said and done. It’s hard to envision a topic that could stir such a reaction from him to the point where he’s arguing with you. i think the only thing that would get him going back and forth in an “argument” is if he’s worried about you, but you decide to be stubborn with him.

for instance, you’re tired and have been studying all day, and he just wants you to allow yourself to relax. but! you’re persistent on finishing up your assignments. he’d probably grow upset and insist that you deserve a break . . . (veryyy self indulgent ‘cause i’ve been studying for a gajillion tests lately!)

dull thuds of reiner’s heavy footsteps upon carpet announce his entrance into your room. he strolls around your cozy little home-desk, the one he helped you build a couple months back when the school semester first began. it’s adorned in sanrio stickers galore and polaroid pictures of you and him, nostalgic square photos secured with baby-pink thumbtacks. reiner circles you with a brooding silence, flitting his eyes from the slideshow on your laptop screen to your scribbled notes. you feel him linger behind your chair, but opt on saying nothing.

“baby, c’mon…” reiner calls out, his tone borderline pleading, “you’ve been here for hours.” from behind your seat, he inches in until he’s close enough to rest his weighty hands on your stiffened shoulders. reiner’s warm palms rub along the junction of your neck. it’s helping— he can see it in the way your body slackens in your swivel chair.

“i gotta prep for tomorrow’s test,” his touch brings you to release a lax hum, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it for long. the fleeting moment of bliss he provides ends too soon, as you smooth out your oversized baby-pink tee-shirt and begin to refocus on your work.

“have you eaten?” he asks. the shake of your head brings about his frown. you could surely get your work done without depriving yourself of basic needs… all he wants is for you to be well taken care of. “no, not yet.” you spare him a glance before looking back over your laptop.

reiner’s hand shoots out, grabbing your chair and turning you halfway-round to face him. the closeness of his face to yours makes it seem like the perfect opportunity to press your lips to his and linger there for a while. instead, you remain still, choosing a safer route by stealing glances of his handsome attributes. your eyes run across his prominent collarbone peeking through his low-neck sweatshirt, the slight clench of his firm jaw, most especially the raw concern swimming in his honey-golden eyes. “why not?” reiner questions, with his brows drawn tight in worry. you whirl back around, for the sake of your own resolve.

“because i’m studying, reiner.”

“no, you’re cramming.” he corrects. reiner can read you like a damn storybook; it’s almost as though he knows you more than his very own self. “at least i’m drinking water,” you raise a bottle from your desk for emphasis. water sloshes in the cylindrical confines as you set it back down, “happy?”

reiner rolls his tongue and prods at his inner cheek. he decides to pay no mind to your little attitude. “water’s fine, but you need food.”

“a meal would be too heavy for me... i’d probably end up falling asleep.” you haphazardly shoo his suggestion, scribbling bullet points onto your notebook.

“so a snack would be better, then? your favorite fruit is in the fridge downstairs.” reiner turns on his heel, intent on coming back with a bowl of nicely-cut strawberries and mangoes. you reach out, clasping onto him forearm before he zips out of your room and descends the flight of stairs. “it’s okay, reiner.” you assure. the ends of your manicured nails ghost his wrist.

“is it really? ‘cause it’s hard to believe that you don’t want me to get anything at all.” he quirks up a thin brow as he says it. reiner knows just how much you need his support— you’re simply choosing to act like you don’t.

“i’ll get somethin’ to eat later, i promise.” with the twirl of your ballpoint-pen, you’re back to writing. this is his third time checking up on you, and you give him the same answer with every visit. all this stubbornness has gone on long enough.

“you may be busy, but you’re also tired.” he's quick to snatch the pen from your hands, right in the middle of you scrawling a sentence onto lined paper. “hey! reiner, give it—”

“nuh-uh. stop bein’ difficult about it.” he plants a large hand onto the back of your macbook and shuts it closed. you do an over-exaggerated huff, make a pout, throw in a bratty eye roll— he doesn’t care for it. what you need is to allow him take care of you. he can’t let his darling work herself to death, now can he? not in a literal sense, but he wouldn’t forgive himself for allowing this to continue.

“i’ll be right back, okay? and for the love of god, don’t open that goddamn laptop.” he makes his leave. you hear the faint hum of a microwave. it doesn’t take long for him to return, with a steaming plate of food in hand. reiner takes joy in replacing that stupid notebook of yours with the reheated dinner that he cooked up for you over an hour ago.

he pulls up a seat, scoots in close, and brings a hot forkful up to your mouth. “don’t argue. just eat, baby.”

this sly man knows that it’s your favorite food. you have no energy left to brush him off. finally, you give in. with a soft ‘ah’, you allow reiner to feed you. there’s a satisfied gleam in his eye as he stuffs your mouth with bite after bite.

“it’s good?” he softly asks. you cover your mouth while chewing, giving him a sheepish nod. “mm-hm.”

“you feel better, don’t you?” reiner nudges your shoulder with his broader one. you don’t try to fight the smile overtaking your lips. “i do…” you relent, looping your arms around his neck. he firmly hugs you in one arm, and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto the ceramic plate. over half of the food’s gone.

he hears your quiet, sincere ‘thank you’ murmured into his chest, feels your frame relax against his. “good.” reiner sighs into your hair. he wants you to put yourself first, every single time. “that’s good.”

[aghostnamedcalamity]

Hi calamity. Do you think that Joey would continue to be a part of Benjamin's life even when Benjamin is an adult?

Hello! I think he will, but probably not nearly as active like in his childhood. But he’ll be there! Joey did work as an emotional translator of sorts between Mordecai and Benjamin during the times they were clashing the most and, even though Mordecai then strived to be better in that aspect, still is a good shoulder to lean on when Benjamin needs some mental support :)

[romantichopelessly]

invitation to speak more about the secret good td3 in your head, if you so desire!

Ok so I sat on this ask for DAYS because I wanted to have some cohesive, great answer, but the thing about The Dreamer Trilogy that haunts me is that I can never come up with good concrete thoughts about how to fix the issues I have with it, which is why I reference the “secret good td3 in my head” because it can never fully leave my head in any real way. That being said here’s a list of some elements I would change to make my secret good td3, in no particular order.

The visionaries don’t exist. Liliana, Persifal, etc. are just psychics that keep getting visions of the end, and die for reasons other than their power. Explaining what Visionaries are and subsequently over explaining the magic system of td3 is part of what made the trilogy so confusing and ruined a lot of the magic that the TRC universe already had for me. We don’t need concrete explanations, and psychics can still fill this role. The changing age and exploding added nothing?? to the narrative?? that I can think of?? We can even keep the age gap for Carliana if we want to, just make Liliana an older psychic like Maura/Persephone/Calla. It will even add to the excellent Carmen-Mr. Gray parallels.

Lean more into the themes of the age group. TRC is a coming of age story. It’s about being 17/18. It’s about learning your inner self and getting others to see the true you. TD3 should be more about being 19/20/21. To me, TD3 at its peak is like Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 6. Which is uniquely about the horror of being in your early 20s, losing support systems, having to learn to be a full self-reliant person, grappling with what your parents did to you, and the crushing loneliness of not being around Your People anymore. TD3 has all of these themes, but I really think they need to be fleshed out more, and given proper conclusion that isn’t just “yippee everything is fine now!”

Greywaren is longer. I think almost everyone agrees that Greywaren, as a book was just too short to wrap up all the plot lines set up, and does almost none of them justice. That book needed a whole rewrite. In theory, I’m completely fine with how it opens—Ronan being in a dream coma was foreshadowed from CDTH, and is an idea that I’d actually thought of as interesting before even reading the book. Other elements of this book like Declan’s rampage, Matthew going rogue, etc are great directions for the characters, I’d just want to rework them. I could make solo posts about any of these.

The Pynch breakup either doesn’t happen, or is set up further in advance and lasts longer. Personally, I lean towards the latter. Adam and Ronan’s conflict is set up from the very beginning of CDTH, or even from Opal (Adam warring between wanting to stay with Ronan and needing to follow through with his lifelong plans, and being frustrated that Ronan never asks for anything from Adam (specifically, to stay) ((side note: perhaps Adam’s insecurity here about Ronan respecting his boundaries so thoroughly stems from both having a family that never would respect his wishes, and Gansey (Adam’s model of love, Adam’s model of everything) having to learn not to ask things like that of Adam. What does it mean that Ronan never even tries?)) AND Ronan dealing with the crushing loneliness of being left and dealing with the consequences of having a long distance bf who is more successful than him). So they needed to have an argument about this. It’s also just in character that these two would not be perfect communicators. So. My idea: In CDTH we get no Adam POVs, just Ronan’s side of the story. We see, rather than Ronan just getting upset over one missed text, that Adam begins to pull away after the murder crab incident. We the audience don’t know why, other than Ronan’s unreliable narration and insecurity. So when Adam doesn’t respond to that one text at a vital fraught time, Ronan does what he does best, shuts down, pulls away and self destructs. Then MI rolls around and we start getting Adam POVs. We learn that after the murder crabs, Adam was throwing himself into trying to fix the nightwash situation for Ronan (Adam is not in contact with Declan here, unfortunately). After visiting for Ronan’s birthday and seeing the Lace, Adam starts to have dreams/premonitions about the end of the world (no visionaries in this universe, just psychics who are/were close to dreamers getting the visions!!). So he obviously sets out to fix this alone too. He calls his best approximations to contacts in this underground world that aren’t Declan. Henry and Mr. Gray. (+ maybe also Maura & Calla) ((Also don’t worry Henry doesn’t leave the Sarchengsey trip, just advises Adam on where to start)). Now that Adam has lost contact with Ronan (he was busy and missed the message and Ronan went off the grid like in canon), he goes full throttle into trying to solve everything while managing being his perfect Harvard persona (this gets him close to a breakdown, very reminiscent to Dream Thieves). Perhaps we get to see Adam and Declan working together to acquire sweet metals and understand the underworld of magic together. He and Ronan fight the one time they get to talk over the phone, Adam because he is truly scared Ronan will be the one to end the world, Ronan because he feels like this is another person perceiving him as a failure and wanting to control/baby him (+ he hates Adam hanging with Mr Gray and Declan of all people). By the time Greywaren starts, Adam is wrung out and hurting and Ronan is dead to the world, so yeah. He doesn’t think he can spend emotional energy playing safeguard to his boyfriend’s coma corpse. And then by the end of the book they have an actual argument/discussion no “they didn’t need words” cop out.

The number of Dreamers/Dreams has to be reduced. It’s cool to say that dreams were always integrated into this world, but it creates so many plot holes it isn’t even funny. There is no way Niall could have passed off the Greywaren being a box that brings dreams to life if Dreamers were such a common occurrence. No secret can be kept that well, someone in the black market would have known, and thus Greenmantle/Mr. Gray/Laumonier/ect WOULD HAVE KNOWN !!!

Declan does not have all his character erased by suddenly loving his mommy and daddy. Seriously what the fuck was that. Declan suddenly deciding to forgive his father because actually Declan was secretly the favorite child first is INSANE. Especially after seeing that that changed because Niall and Mor WANTED TO KILL HIS BROTHER!!! The two tenants of Declan Lynch in TRC were protecting his remaining family and fucking hating that Ronan idolized Niall just because Niall loved him best. So why make Declan turn around and do the same??? Suddenly Niall wasn’t so bad because actually he let Declan be shoved into a car trunk during a shootout out of love. I hate this plot line. Family doesn’t have to be forgiven. Understood, that’s one thing. Forgiven?? Not always. Sick of it. The real takeaway from seeing those memories should have been closure to Declan’s arc of learning that dreams should be viewed as people completely.

I definitely have other points but I cannot think of them right now. And I want to post this so I will. But TD3, as you can see, makes me an insane person.

[mossy-paws]

Phigting headcanon ask!

What do think are the phighters fav drink? :D

YES YES YWA YES YES!!!! I LOVE ASKS LIKE THESE LETS GOOOOOOO!!!! IM SO SORRU IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO GET TO THIS BUT!! LET ME JUST COMPILE ALL OF THEM REALLY QUICK!

Sword, ice water with lemon. I actually headcanon he’s allergic to caffeine (because anything with caffeine will make birds very sick)

Rocket, sprite or blue Fanta

Subspace can’t drink due to his rot, he probably eats electrolyte packages lmfao

Medkit is addicted to black coffee

shuriken loves green tea/matcha

vinestaff likes sakura tea or cherry ramune

Icedagger likes söderblandning and Julmust especially

Scythe likes vinegar, straight vinegar. (And sometimes a key lime martini on the side)

Broker, once more, likes whatever is illegal.

Skateboard likes coca cola

slingshot likes milk because cat

boombox likes ginger ale (the bottle is green okay I couldn’t think of anything better)

Banhammer likes his mamas smoothies

Zuka likes those gas station slushies, blue raspberry mixed with Coke is probably his faborite

Hyperlaser likes beer or any sort of alcohol (duh)

Katana likes Baekseju

Valk like champagne

Dom likes red wine, but only the most expensive kinds

Voidstar likes the blood of her victims

Windforce likes protein shakes

Firebrand adores root beer floats, he also likes to make them with Dom and valk! His favorite is probably just with vanilla ice cream

Ghostwalker doesn’t drink but if he would it would be watered down cremated ashes

Illumina likes communion wine and holy water

ghostdeeri can’t drink liquids since it would extinguish her flame lmao

Darkheart likes chemical waste

Venomshank likes French Bloom Le Rosé

Coil likes monster energy drinks

Lord PWNATIOUS only likes the most expensive kinds of alcoholic drinks on the market

traffic likes gutter rain water /afF

okay so that’s all of them! Enjoy these I love getting to talk about stuff like this ;3

[lynnbutlertron]

hihihi just wanna say i love how you draw noise!!! squishy little guy i'm throwing him against the wall! /pos

OUGHDHDHFJ THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!! please do, he deserves it…. i also regularly want to throw him against the wall like a sticky gecko….

[calmlb]

Hi Essie!!! Hope you're doing well! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)❤️

So I had this idea for a sick!Dazai fic (that I'm honestly too tired to write dhehee), and who else is better to brainstorm it with than my fellow Dazai whump enthusiast? :D

Based on my own experience of being sick for the past week, I forgot how awful it can get. It sucks. You're feverish, your nose is either runny or super blocked, your throat hurts, you get headaches, you're lethargic 80% of the time, all that stuff. But what sucked the most for me was how hot my skin felt. Like, clothes were so uncomfortable to wear from the sweat, especially since it's still summer around here.

So imagine putting bandages into account as well?

Yep, awful.

So I present you with a scenario: Teen!Dazai in his office, has taken over paper duty (that Mori knows he isn't gonna complete anyway) because of his fever. He feels gross, to say the least. Flushed and hazy, a little nauseous and sleepy. But his skin- his skin is scorching, and there is no way for it to disperse that heat because it can't breathe. He endures it for as long as he can until he just can't.

In his haze, he scrambles to tear his bandages off, loosen his tie, and decides that he will lie on the cold floor shirtless. The air conditioner isn't enough. No one is there to stop him.

Until Chuuya barges in without knocking as usual (to discus the paperwork he also knows Dazai isn't going to finish) and stumbles onto the scene.

Dazai doesn't even acknowledge him, has already taken off the bandages around his eye and is halfway through tearing off the ones around his neck. His clothes are disheveled as he loosens them and looks like he's about to take them off.

Chuuya gapes for a solid second, before exclaiming with a blush-

"What the fuck?!"

He rushes over, trying not to look at Dazai's skin that's on display and stops him. He wraps him with Mori's oversized coat aggressively.

Dazai fights against him, exclaiming that he needs to lie on the floor. Chuuya doesn't get it, all that he knows is that Dazai is delirious, and even if he thinks it's a good idea to tear through his protective layer now, he'll definitely regret it later.

So Chuuya ties him with the coat and decides to take the paperwork to his place, along with a flailing Dazai on his shoulder.

I just wanna see Dazai giving Chuuya hell during treating him 😭 cuz even if cooling off is a good idea for a fever, not staying huddled in the warmth equates to chills and endless sneezes. Makes you feel even more awful. So it's gonna be a push and pull of Chuuya trying to warm Dazai up (in order to fight off the fever faster), and Dazai wanting to cool off (because he isn't used to being this warm and hates it), until they come up with a compromise somehow dgdhejndjd

Yeah, just a fun idea! :3 Feel free to expand on it hehe

PEA 😭 i saw this when i was having a Very Bad Day™️ & it immediately made it sm better tysm 🥺🩷🩷

UGH THE TENDER, FEVERISH SKIN UNDER THE BANDAGES ❤️‍🩹 where everything just feels like too much, i completely understand why Dazai (in his feverish delusion) would think removing the offending material would be the solution

Chuuya barging in and quickly going from 👁️👄👁️ to 😳🤬. i love that he goes into protective mode, thinking of how future Dazai will surely regret this course of action & putting measures in place to prevent that 🥺

Chuuya would wrap Dazai up like a sushi roll & carry him on his shoulder like a log back to his apartment, where he proceeds to lose the idgaf war & embrace his mother hen side (which he still denies exists)

meanwhile Dazai is kicking & fighting him every step of the way, acting more like a 5 year old than a mafia sub executive (he’s still only a kid sobs), even as he shivers with chills

until Chuuya manages to get a hand in his sweat soaked curls, gently carding through them. the coolness of his leather glove against Dazai’s overheated scalp makes Dazai go still… and then slump against the couch in a mixture of relief & exhaustion. Chuuya takes advantage of his compliance to make him agree to stop fighting him, & they spend the rest of the day resting on the couch, watching movies & playing video games (well. Chuuya plays. Dazai watches & points out all of Chuuya’s mistakes) 🩷🩷🩷

[charlotte-family-apologist]

What.. Do you think Sonya and Kenshi's relationship would be like 👂

Okay this one has me thinking-

Sonya and Kenshi, compared to their respective partners, are quite reserved. Though they both have an attitude problem and I can see them bickering a lot, but not to the extent that they do with Johnny or Suchin (it’s playful bickering but bickering nonetheless). I can see them easily losing track of time by talking to each other or simply resting side to side in silence.

As for conflicts, I feel as if their stubbornness would be a big issue. In getting together and communicating. I do feel like Kenshi would be the more understanding of the two despite his pride. Their combined impulsiveness is also a problem and I imagine them to argue about that. Kenshi being a wanderer and freelance spy (idk how to word what Kenshi does 😭) and Sonya being content in one place leads to them not seeing each other for periods of time.

As for them getting together 😈 it was Sonya who made the first move, though it wasn’t with romantic intent in the beginning. Sonya being the coffee shop fanatic she is (personal headcanon) asked Kenshi to meet her at her favorite one to work on a joint case, something she does occasionally to relax while still getting work done. He accepts and they meet there several times before finishing the case.

It becomes a tradition for them to go to said coffee shop whenever they get joint cases. And one day Kenshi comes into office and notices that Sonya’s having a bad day and brings her a coffee from there, having memorized her order long ago. He starts to do this when they don’t have joint cases and one day she, somewhat awkwardly, invites him to get coffee with her outside of work and things evolve from there 🤭

I’m not sure how Takeda would react but considering his telepathic abilities he’s not having a good time (he already has to deal with subscorp why his bio dad too 😔 I do think he’d be reluctantly happy for them though). Cassie goes through the 5 stages of grief after the announcement before deciding, yeah, Kenshi’s pretty chill and her mom deserves to be happy. I don’t think she’d ever call him anything relating to dad but rather uncle or something.

Cassie does has some resentment over the fact that her parents won’t ever be together but she doesn’t want to cause drama. Johnny’s conflicted about the whole thing as he still loves Sonya and had been getting closer to Kenshi the past few years but he’s also happy for them and is loud about it.

(There is kencageblade potential here 👀 if we want to go that route)

[pacifistcowboy]

You ever think about how scary an Enerjak Silver would be.

admittedly, i’ve never read archie, but from what i’ve read on his wiki, i can see enerjak is some sorta demigod-spirit that possessed a few echidnas and has practically limitless power? so yeah if silver got possessed by enerjak it would be terrifying. silver’s already powerful as he is, so if he was possessed by this being with god-level strength, psychic abilities, and reality-warping, it’d be all over. he could probably turn the planet to dust with the flick of his wrist. the universe itself would be the thing at risk, the planet would already be gone. enerjak silver would be cool as hell to see. completely undefeatable psychokinetic armoured boy? it’d look so awesome.

anyway since i’ve never read those comics so i couldn’t go too in-depth with this question due to not knowing enough about enerjak, i decided to try design enerjak silver! :]

enerjak’s armour is seemingly inspired by egyptian royalty and armour, and since silver is italian, i decided to base enerjak silver’s armour on roman soldiers! i don’t know if that ended up coming across in the finished design, but i swear the inspiration is there ehfjejfjwjf. i tried to have it so silver’s quills came out the top of his helmet like the crest that some roman soldiers’ helmets had, also i imagine the visor covering his face is moveable, so he can lift it up off his face :]

[stpansy]

can we jus talk about "darling I know what you're going through" like ofc it's the infidelity song but whatever. Pete going behind Patrick for "I will never end up like him/behind my back I already am" and the implications of Patrick singing "darling I know what you're going through".. he is singing that to him

headfirst slide is so… yeah. like sorry to be that guy (although to be fair why else would you be coming to my inbox) but it being the infidelity song is in my opinion extremely relevant to the p2-ness of it all. and well. yes he is singing that to him. he very much is singing the whole song to him

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On a Bad Bet (released June 15 2009) / archive of Pete Wentz’s blog from 2009