#Just kind of drifted apart for various reasons

[leejeann]

Do I Really Want To Reach Out To That Old Friend or Am I Just Getting Caught Up in the Feelings From Stories I've Been Reading That Involve Reconnecting with Someone: a novel, by me

(Am I Debating It So Much Because I Am Overthinking and Know That or Am I Just Too Anxious To Talk To Them: the thrilling sequel)

[frostbitebakery]

WIP SUNDAY feat. a request for more Gooey-Wan

Sitrep!

That’s how Commander Cody always starts these things, isn’t it?

No, he’s more professional about it.

General Kenobi’s hand drops from his mouth into the abyss that is his cloak, smoke curling up lazily like a predator stretching with these eyes fixed on him, and Wooley takes an involuntary step back.

Sitrep, Wooley thinks an octave lower.

Commander Cody, as previously described as professional, has professionally dogpiled Grievous and is now professionally knocked out after being treated for a professional concussion. Knocked out on the General’s lap which has somehow become the new normal for the 212th. When General Kenobi sits still long enough, someone will inevitably sleep leaning against him or on a corner of the cloak. It’s just usually not Commander Cody.

Wooley pads a finger against his temple, shortcut to asking if the General is up for a mental conversation.

A moment later the General’s pleasant voice drifts into his thoughts. “Wooley, is everything alright?”

He waves the General away. “Major Boil sent me to brief you.” He avoids looking at Commander Cody peacefully sleeping with what might be the General’s hand slowly running through his hair. Instead he’s transfixed by glowing eyes taking up all visibility in the room.

“Of course. Thank you,” General Kenobi says in his head.

A second later what had still been visible of Commander Cody vanishes under a cloud of smoke.

See, the thing is that General Kenobi is kind. Kind and bending over backwards to help everyone who stumbles with a problem into his path. But he’s also been fucking frightening.

Even before the whole drama with the nightmare sludge and their surroundings turning into a horror holo wherever the General walked, he’d make the hair on their necks stand up straight for some unidentifiable reason. He hadn’t even been able to greet them before half the shiny company had crapped their freshly scrubbed armor.

It really really hadn’t been the General’s fault who back then had chosen to appear to them in his human, non-smoking form. But clones are trained to take notice of the purposefully hidden, to quickly puzzle together any hints that their life might be in danger.

After the General had revealed himself to them impressively and with a lot of psychological damage, some troopers hadn’t been able to let go of their concerns and fear. Even asking for transfers.

Wooley is quite comfy where he is, though.

He plops down on the offered chair and dims the light on his pad. “Okay, so…”

Wooley is very much afraid of General Kenobi in the sense that his hindbrain is still working through the fight or flight response to something and someone he cannot actually fight but who could rip him apart bodily and mentally without lifting a finger.

But what helped was sleeping in the cloak, dreamless and resting, or sweet dreams giving his thoughts a desperately needed pause.

What helped was fetching the cheap (“though, one could argue, the very best, my dear”) pudding to talk the General down from darkened corners of various ceilings. To offer the most mundane conversation topics to help the General focus and not lose himself in his nature or the clones’ nightmares.

Really, Wooley thinks, General Kenobi is just some guy, too, in the end. And he watches the General’s eyes snap up, following an unseen tangent before flashing black as the Galaxy’s voids. Feeding time.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [4]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: use of fake name, reader’s on the run, grogu is a menace

Word Count: 3,160

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly  head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #04: MAYFELD DIDN’T MEAN TO STEP ON HIM

Chapter Summary: As acting Deputy for the day, you keep the city safe by watching the Marshal crawl out of a hole in the wall.

     “Taking time to do nothing often brings everything into perspective.” ⏤Doe Zantamata  

  This was the first time you had ever walked the city streets with Mando, you realized. Up until now, you’d explore the sights of Nevarro with Grogu or Nima, and it’d be during his work hours. Nobody seemed caught off guard by the silver beskar warrior, which made sense considering this was his city, but it was still odd that all the attention drifting your way was to greet the man beside you eagerly. Mando always returned the greetings with a simple nod of his head.  Walking beside him, you felt weirdly safe. Not that you didn’t feel safe walking these streets alone, but being side by side with a Mandalorian brought a sense of confidence. You doubted there was a soul in the universe who would willingly start a fight up with the man beside you.

 Both of you walked a step behind Grogu’s pram. He was mumbling to himself while playing with the stuffed, blue frog. Around all of you, the street was decorated with bright flowers and banners. Each side was lined with various stalls selling every kind of item you could think of and from the looks of it the stalls went all the way up the street to the plaza in front of the Magistrate building.

 “Does this happen every weekend?” You asked.

 “Not every weekend. Just once a month. Karga is trying to increase that though.”

 You continued to gaze around, waving at the vendors who waved at you, “Where I lived in the city, we had a marketplace this size that stuck around all the time, but it wasn’t as fun as this. In fact, I’d describe it less as cute and cheery, and more dangerous and shady.” You glanced toward Mando. “I’m pretty sure someone got mugged there daily.”

 “Did you live there alone?” Mando asked.

 “Mhmm. I have some family in Naboo still, but I lived alone on Coruscant. Tatooine too.”

 “Mos Espa, right?” You nodded in response. Mando continued. “That’s quite the change. What took you to Tatooine in the first place?”

 One of the last patients you treated had told you about Tatooine. He said Mos Espa was a desert hell scape that lowlifes and runaways called home because they belonged to no other world in the universe. Needless to say, he hadn’t been a fan and he had a scud experience there. It hadn’t been a revolutionary conversation, but for some reason it stuck in your brain. So, when your life spiraled out of control, and you decided to make a run for it, that was where you went.

 You were a lowlife and a runaway, and you didn’t belong anywhere anymore.

 “A friend told me it was a fun place to live.” You shrugged.

 Mando shook his head, “I’m not sure that person should be called a friend if they sent you to that corner of the universe.”

 “Bright eyes!” The sudden new voice startled you. Grogu dropped his stuffed toy at the sound and immediately lifted his arms. Seconds later, an older woman with bushy, curly hair stormed up with an ankle tall, one eyed droid stumbling around her ankles. Her face was decorated with a wide grin as she spoke directly to the child. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She scooped him up. “Your father has been keeping you from me.”

 “You were literally the one who suggested I hire someone to watch him.” Mando sighed.

 “Don’t you start with those excuses, tin man.” She snapped.

 Mando motioned to the woman. “This is Peli. Peli, this is Soran.”

 “Oh!” Your eyes widened, recognizing the name, “It’s nice to meet you. Nima has told me so much about you. She idolizes you.”

 Peli bounced Grogu on her hip. “She’s a good kid. Just don’t tell her I told you that.” It seemed like Nima hadn’t exaggerated in any of the stories she told you. “Now, I’m taking the kid.” Peli lightly kicked the droid. “Get the pram!”

 Without another word, you watched as the woman walked away with Grogu and her droid dragged the pram beside her. You turned your head to look up at Mando who was shaking his head. “Um, I think your child was just kidnapped.”

 “Fighting Peli isn’t worth the energy.”

 Music wafted through the air, mingling with the smell of food and sweets, and the crowd drifted around the both of you. Mando and you were just standing in the middle of the street now⏤ childless. Before, you at least had Grogu with you, but now you were alone with him. No adorable babbling to break up the awkward silences. Mando suddenly began to walk once more, and your eyes momentarily widened before keeping up with him.

 “Can I ask you something probably considered personal?” You blurted. Mando glanced at you briefly before nodding. “Did you really used to be a bounty hunter?” His steps faltered and he did a double take toward you. Nervously, you held your hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”

 “No, no. I’m not upset.” Mando replied. “I just… It caught me off guard. I thought everyone already knew that.”

 “Oh,” You grinned, “Well, Nima did tell me you were, but Nima tells me a lot of things. Only 60% ends up being true.” Mando let out a soft chuckle and nod. “So, that’s a yes then?”

 “Yes, I was.”

 “Why’d you stop?”

 “This job, I suppose.” Mando shrugged. The two of you paused so a set of people could carry armfuls of boxes across the path. “I was still taking bounties with Grogu at one time, to afford fuel and supplies, but I haven’t picked up a bounty since settling here.”

 You nodded. The moment the path cleared you both began walking again. A woman held out an arm draped in thick scarves she was selling, and you politely shook your head and stepped past her. You cleared your throat. “I have another personal question⏤”

 “You can ask anything you want, cyar’ika.” Mando interrupted you. You didn’t recognize the word at the end of his sentence. Though the accent made you believe it to be Mando’a. The tone he held conveyed a friendly air that settled any remaining nerves you had at the moment. Your lips curled up in a broad smile at him. Mando stiffly rolled his shoulders with a muted cough. “Go on.”

 “How did you and Grogu meet?” You asked. “I know you adopted him, obviously, but was it at birth or…”

 Mando tilted his head with a light huff. “He was a quarry actually. I was hired to pick him up and deliver him to a man here in Nevarro.” His words made you wonder what meeting that version of Mando would be like. “While bringing him here, he saved my life.”

 “Aw, so you never turned him in?”

 “No, I did.”

 “Oh.” You blurted in surprise. “Huh.”

 Mando paused at the edge of the street and you did the same. You had reached the mouth of the plaza where a band stood off to the side playing music as the townspeople shopped at the vendors perched around the circular space.

 “But I did come back for him.” Mando finished. “I should’ve never left him in the first place. It was a mistake.”

 “It sounds like you more than redeemed yourself.” You replied. He turned his head to stare at you, and this time you stared back in hopes that you could gauge something through the black glass of his visor. He was better at holding your gaze though because it only took seconds before you had to glance away. “It’s just obvious Grogu loves you like crazy, and he’s a great kid which is a testament to the guy raising him.”

 “Thank you.” Mando hummed. The two of you stood side by side in silence, but this one wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, and you could just enjoy the bubble of laughter, music, and chatter that surrounded you. Mando motioned across the plaza and you followed his hand to where a dark skinned man in elegant red and gold robes stood speaking to a few others. “Have you met Karga yet?”

 “High Magistrate Karga? The guy, you know, running Nevarro?” You shook your head with a disbelieving laugh. “No. He always seemed a bit busy for me to suddenly stop and introduce myself.”

 “Come on.” Mando chuckled. He set his hand on your upper back and led you closer to the large, busy building. If eyes hadn’t been on you before when you were walking side by side with the Mandalorian, they certainly were now as you grew closer and closer to the High Magistrate. When you were a few feet away, Karga’s eyes glanced over and his face brightened. He stepped away from the people he was speaking to so he could meet you halfway. “Karga.”

 “Mando!” He greeted, holding out an arm. Mando pulled his hand away from your back to return the greeting. Karga’s eyes drifted to you with a smile. “And who is this beautiful, young woman?”

 “Hi, I’m Soran. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.” You replied.

 “Please, no need for the formalities.” Karga laughed. “Any friend of Mando’s is a friend of mine. I believe I’ve seen you around some. You’re no traveler here, correct?”

 You shook your head. “No. I moved in with Mando.” Karga’s eyes momentarily widened and you held a hand out to clarify. “As his nanny⏤ Grogu’s nanny. I’m Grogu’s nanny.”

 “Ah!” Karga laughed. “I understand now. You’re Nima’s cousin then? Sorry for the confusion, I was expecting someone a little less human.” He glanced around. “Where is the little guy though?”

 “Peli beat you to him.” Mando replied. He pressed a few buttons on his gauntlet.

 “Damn.” Karga shook his head with a mumbled curse. His hands drifted to his waist and his attention swiveled to focus solely on the Mandalorian beside you. “I’m actually glad I ran into you. We have a problem. The Anzellans who run the droid repair shop two streets over have some complaints.”

 Mando crossed his arms. “Today’s my day off. Mayfeld is running point.”

 “Mayfeld doesn’t quite have your…charm.” Karga replied. “Besides, the Anzellans hate him after what happened last time.”

 “It was an accident. Mayfeld didn’t mean to step on him.”

 “Yes, well they’re not quite ready to let bygones be bygones.”

 “Too bad. He’s the Deputy on shift. They either file their complaint with him or wait until tomorrow.” Mando said simply. You wondered if that meant Cara was off today too. On weekends did just one of them work?

 Peli’s voice shouting from behind you made you glance over your shoulder to see the woman rushing over with Grogu’s pram beside her. Briefly, you worried something was going on with the kid, but he seemed as chipper as ever as he nibbled on a stick of meat. Peli must have bought it for him.

 “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

 “I messaged you where we are.” Mando motioned to his gauntlet.

 “Whatever.” Peli waved his words off. “Here’s your boy back. I gotta get to the landing pad. One of the merchants’ ships went AWOL.” Grogu lifted his half finished snack and you cooed at him in response. Peli begun to rush away once more, no further information given, but paused to glare over her shoulder at the droid that lingered by the pram. “Come on, you idiot!”

 The droid jumped in alarm before sprinting after her. You chuckled in amusement before reaching down to scoop up Grogu who had lifted one hand in request. Once settled in your arms, he held the stick of roasted meat up to your mouth to share. You took a small bite from the opposite end then thanked him profusely to which he squealed in delight.

 “Plus, now Mayfeld will be busy with whatever the kriff is going on at the landing pad.” Karga raised an eyebrow.

 Mando hesitated and his gaze drifted over to you which caught you off guard. You bounced Grogu lightly in your arms, making him giggle, then gave Mando a reassuring smile. “If you really need to go I can keep an eye on Grogu. We’ll explore the market some more.”

 He held your gaze a second more before turning to Karga. “What’s the nature of the complaint?”

 “Non-violent.” The Magistrate shrugged. “They think someone’s been breaking in and stealing their things. Some items have been going missing. Very much a tomorrow problem, but they’re insistent that it be solved today.” Karga held a hand over his chest. “As an old friend, I would love for you to help me keep the best droid repair mechanics in the Outer Rim happy.”

 “Fine.” Mando sighed. “We’ll go see them.”

 “Yes! Thank you, Mando!”

 You raised your eyebrows in surprise, “We?”

 Mando had one hand resting on his belt as he tilted his head toward you. There was something about his posture that screamed ‘sheepish’ to you. “If you don’t mind tagging along. I did want to show you around the market eventually, but I know this is a lousy day off for you.”

 You let out a small laugh, “It’d be my honor to tag along, Marshal.” The sheepish energy you initially got from him disappeared as he gave you a slight nod. You both threw back quick good-byes to the Magistrate, and you added that it had been nice to meet him before following Mando down a different street. “Me tagging along. Does this mean I’m a Deputy today? Because if so, I’d like a badge.”

 “I’ll work on that for you.” Mando chuckled.

 On the list of things you thought you’d get to witness today, you didn’t think seeing Mando’s large frame crawl into a Anzellan garage would be one. He may have thought this was turning out to be a lousy day off, but you were truly entertained watching him sit curled up, seated with his legs crossed, while arguing with the head droid repair tech of the garage. When you all arrived to the garage, the Anzellans had insisted that the Marshal step into their office to discuss the matters at hand. Their office being a tiny crawl space that fit multiple working Anzellans with ease.

 You had been invited in as well, but it was much more fun to watch from the entrance of the garage where you knelt with Grogu.

 “I don’t understand.” Mando let out an irritable sigh. “Do you speak Huttese?”

 “Ransack. Ransack!” The Anzallen standing across from him groaned in a squeaky voice. He continued on in his own language before belting the word out once more. “Ransack!”

 “Who? Who do you think is ransacking your garage?” Mando pressed.

 You bit down on your lips to keep back a chuckle. You glanced down to share the amusement with Grogu only to realize the little green guy had wandered off. Eyes blown with panic, the sound of his nearby cooing reassured you quickly. Grogu had stepped away from you to wander into the garage toward the pack of Anzallens. “Oh no.” You hissed quietly and reached out to him. “Grogu. Come here. Your buir is working.”

 Grogu ignored you with the complacency only a toddler could have and crawled onto the table. He was only there for half a second before he wrapped his arms around the Anzellen who had been struggling to communicate with his father.

 “No, Grogu.” You blurted as the Anzellan hollered.

 The child cuddled to the man who was about the size of his stuffed frog. At least he wasn’t trying to eat him, you supposed. “No, no, no, no, no!” The Anzellen bellowed. “No squeezie, not squeeze! Not squeeze!”

 “Grogu. K’olar!” Mando reached out to the kid. “Sorry, he’s young.”

 “Bad baby!” The Anzellan replied. You crawled into the space to grab him, but he took a step out of your reach. Mando held his arm out to keep Grogu from waddling away any farther and herded him into your direction. When he was close enough, you scooped up the green, giggling gremlin and tried to detangle his arms from around the Anzellan. When the droid repair tech broke free he hurried away, still repeating the same phrases. “Oh, bad baby.”

 You had kept most of your laughter in control, but when your gaze met Mando to see him already staring at you the dam broke and a laugh slipped from your lips. Quickly, you crawled out of the garage before you could really lose control and once out you stood to let all your amusement out. Grogu joined in happily, and you bounced him in your arms.

 “No wonder your buir calls you a womp rat.” You laughed.

 A minute later you watched the Marshal, esteemed Mandalorian, decorated in rare beskar sacred to his people and sought after over the universe, crawl out of the garage. You were leaning against the wall with his son in your arms, and the moment he was able to rise fully to his feet another laugh spluttered from your lips. Mando set his hands on his hips as he stared at you, and you shook your head. “I’m sorry, but between watching your son cuddle a droid tech and you crawl out of a hole, I didn’t stand a chance at keeping a straight face.”

 “Uh huh.” Mando stepped closer and held his arms out for Grogu. “I hate to break the news to you, but you’re fired as my Deputy.”

 “Drat.” You snapped your fingers with a wide grin.

 Mando turned his attention to his son, “And you. What have we discussed about cuddling people against their will, ad’ika?” Grogu made a humming noise that suspiciously sounded like ‘I don’t know’. Then he held his hands up to his father’s helmet with his face drawn in innocence. “Uh huh. Nuh’la.”

 “Did you save the day, Marshal?” You asked.

 Mando looked back up to you. “I did. No thanks to my two deputies.” You laughed. Mando kept Grogu in his arms as the two of you walked back toward the market. The pram followed behind you. “I promised them we’d add their garage to our evening route when we’re walking the city.”

 “Mmm.” You held your hands behind your back and shot him a grin. “It’s nice to see Nevarro’s security in action. I feel safer already.”

 “Happy to be of service.” Mando replied with a breathy laugh.

 You reached out to tickle Grogu’s belly as you walked. “Speaking of service, I’m still waiting for that tour, Marshal.”

 “Of course.” Mando nodded. “I think I owe you lunch now as well.”

 At the word lunch, Grogu began to babble in excitement. If any other job you worked had you technically working on your day off and specifically spending it with your employer you’d consider it an absolute nightmare. However, this day had only grown more and more enjoyable, and laughing with Mando had knocked off the last bit of awkward chill you had felt overall. Watching him crawl out of a hole had probably helped.

A/N: Do you guys want translations to the Mando’a used? At first I wasn’t going to b/c then as you read you’re just as clueless as the reader on what’s being said, but I know personally I’m too nosy to not know lol. I’ll give translations this time below--

Cyar'ika: darling, sweetheart

K'olar: Come here

Nuh'la: Funny

[lavender-bundle-blithe]

BSD but Atsushi really IS the agency cat. ( . . . ) Basically he's an actual cat-

When Dazai drifted down the river, he startled a stray cat who looked oddly comfortable in the water compared to most cats, swimming right past him, doing a double take, and instantly swam away from a presumably drifting dead body. Poor thing got the ever loving daylights out of when Dazai, indeed, was alive, and scurried away just before either he or Kunikida could catch it.

After almost running around the entire neighborhood and into the night, they managed to cat the cat in a warehouse, not with cat food or treats, but... tea on rice. The two stare at the cat who was being currently held up by Kunikida.

"Maybe we should call him Chazuke, hm~?" "We aren't naming the cat, we aren't going to get attached to the cat, they're just gonna be "the cat-"" "Hmmm, or would something moon-related work?" "DAZAI-!"

No one had cat allergies, more on the fact that they are major cat lovers, but having such a lovable animal in their office felt like a risk they weren't going to take; with all the various strangers walking in and out their door, sudden attacks from the Port Mafia, the reasons could go on!

So, they held off on taking care of the cat. The only ones that seemed to like him were Kenji who offered the cat vegetables from his arm...

"Here you go, little guy! Is this milk suitable?" "Oh! How about Milk!" "WE ARE STILL NOT NAMING THE CAT-!"

The Tanizaki siblings...

"Huh, seems quite the timid one..." "Awww, such a cute thing!" "Have we figured out what kind of cat it is?" "Well, Kunikida-san said to not get attached, so we haven't really figured out anything about this cat."

Haruno especially...

"Hello there, little one. Hmm, you seem to be younger than Mii-chan... At least more than a year old." "You can really tell, Haruno?" "Several signs, yes. And... they seem to be an Egyptian Mau. A majestic thing you would grow up to be, huh? " "TIGE—" "WE. ARE. NOT. NAMING. IT. TIGER!"

And secretly but unsurprisingly, the President.

"..." "Meorw?" *Takes out a sardine-*

They continued to hold off on taking the cat, calling all sorts of nearby shelters if they have enough room for it. But hearing how they're already filled to brim, if not are being overcrowded, their soft hearts didn't want this cat to be in such an overcrowded area, as timid as it is.

But slowly but surely, they figured out all their little quirks and each having a nickname for him.

Dazai would use the cat as an excuse to hold off on work, having bought cat toys despite Kunikida's arguments, calling them "Chazuke." Kenji would continue to bring a small bottle of fresh milk from his cows and an array of vegetables to see which ones they like the most, calling them "Milk" as one of Dazai's previous name suggestions. The Tanizaki siblings were the ones that made a small temporary area in the office for the cat, buying it it's necessary items and called them "Tiger." Haruno, on the other hand, would bring the cat back to her apartment for nights, seeing as none of the agents and detectives had the room for them. There, she introduces the cat whom she oddly named "Byakko" to Mii-chan, and all but took several photos on her phone of the older calico cat grooming the smaller.

Unfortunately, that domestic feeling all but vanished when the cat wandered too far into dangerous territory; their work.

The cat had unknowingly followed the Tanizaki siblings who ran into Akutagawa, the Port Mafia's Rabid Dog, after the woman that came to their office was revealed to be Higuchi, Akutagawa's subordinate and also a part of the mafia. The cat, clueless, hissed and yowled while standing in front of the siblings, yellow eyes glaring at the two mafiosi. The sight rendered Higuchi stiffling back a coo while Akutagawa just... stared in utter confusion. (And it didn't help that he was also a cat person at heart).

In the end, they were saved by Dazai regardless, but the cat seemed to glare daggers at anyone that wore black. And Dazai all but laughs at that, remarking...

"For such a timid and small cat, you were a pretty brave one , hmm? Going right up to those two and showing your mighty fangs!"

They were, of course, worried about their agents, but more to the cat who seemed to have gone quiet, not at all looking up at the sound of them shaking their toys or the clink of their refilled bowl of food. They just sat, curled up in their cat bed, back turned towards them.

Then suddenly, they vanished.

The agency, of course, went out looking for the cat, but nothing came up. For some, a relief. Maybe they had wandered off and found a better place to live. A safer place to live. But at the same time, the absence made itself loudly known, even though it was silent. The absence on the cat bed, the absence on their desks, the window sills, everywhere in the office.

"Alright, admit it." "Admit what?" "That you guys actually like that cat."

Until, all of a sudden, as Yosano dealt with Kajii on the train, she catches sight of the familiar girl in a red kimono down they walked past in the shopping district sitting at the banks of the water, a small wet ball of fur curled up tightly in her arms.

"Chazuke!" "Milk!" "Tiger!" "Byakko!" "...Did you—" "Yeah, we need to figure out a name for him now-"

Unfortunately that has to wait because even more chaos rolls into Yokohama. But besides the back-to-back fiascos between the Guild and the mysterious fog incident, were they able to breath easily, giving them ample time to have their feline friend comfortable.

Although, it was odd. The cat was seemingly the subject the Guild were after, and they had also vanished during the fog incident but was apparently there in the end fight.

"No cat should be that close to the battle. Where was he before all that happened?" "Who knows. And besides the point, no one was there in the fog besides us. Is it possible for a cat to be stuck in the fog with us?" "Are you saying the cat has an Ability???"

It was a stretch, for sure. A cat to have an Ability? If that were to be true, their knowledge of Abilities have either been wrong or how they appear has changed. Innocently but could be heard as jokingly, Kenji was the one that said something along the lines about the cat actually being human and has an entirely different Ability but got stuck as a cut. It's happened before, people having transformative Abilities.

It was supposed to be a joke, they all knew, but all of a sudden Ranpo shoots up, eyes wide.

"That's why!" "The cat stumped you?!" "Dazai, touch it!" "If you say so-"

The moment Dazai put his hand on the cat's head, a bright flash appeared and everyone stared in shock to see a young man that looked to either be in his late teens or early adulthood sitting on the ground, wearing ragged clothes, asymmetrically cut platinum blonde hair with a single stripe of white, and sheepish ametrine yellow-purple eyes.

They stared at the individual all until Dazai pulled his hand back, reverting them back to being a cat. It goes back and forth until the person, seemingly tired of the sudden shifting, grabbed Dazai's wrist when he placed it back on their head again, face entirely red to his ears.

"P-Please stop doing that." "Not unless you tell us your name~" "...Nakajima Atsushi..."

(A/N: cat cat cat cat- but besides the point, this went a completely random direction than it was supposed to be. It was just something of Atsushi being the office cat, whether or not they knew he was human or not. But then I thought about Dead Apple, blah blah blah, this has been in my drafts for a while- ANYWAYS HOPED YOU LIKED THIS RANDOM BIT-)

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Make the fluffiest and spiciest hero x villain you can. This is a challenge.

Smut.

Raindrops drummed against the window by the time the hero came home. It wasn’t like them to be late, they rather risked the embarrassing sprint to catch the bus than be late for their usual dinner time but today, traffic had been everything but kind and work was aggrieving them as so often. Days became slow and steady; boring and absolutely despicable with the prospect of falling into bed alone.

Ever since the villain had left for business a few months ago, the hero found themselves in a hole they’d dug secretly. So unnoticeable at first with the tiniest hint that something was wrong not being enough for them to actually wake up and see the pain they were in.

Mad at the disruption, they threw their bag full of bloody and sweaty uniforms into a corner, certain that they would start screaming if their mind would think about work for another second. With just as much enthusiasm, they let themselves fall onto the couch and stared at the ceiling, their breath heavy. As their mind wandered to the villain, as so often, they felt a stinging hungriness that settled into their stomach.

The hero was the only person the villain truly liked. No matter if it was on the battlefield or in bed, the hero had noticed a perfected protectiveness the villain let slip occasionally that made them feel safe and sound. The question why them was always complicated and on some days, the hero felt quite replaceable — maybe because of past relationships, maybe because of anxiety in general, they could never really tell — without the villain giving them any reason to.

Evidently, the absence hurt more than the fights. It was oh so much worse than the screaming and crying and breaking down in the bathroom alone. Because when that really did happen, the villain always managed to talk the hero into opening the door to be held. Comfort was difficult for the villain. Words never really reached their true meaning, emotions couldn’t be explained steadily but they didn’t need all of that. There were times when the villain only hugged the hero and let them cry into their shoulder.

That was enough.

The villain’s broad shoulders could feel like heaven.

When the hero realised they were drifting off into a very sad and distant memory like someone under hypnosis, they snapped out of it, clearing their throat, and ordered the takeout they were craving.

It wasn’t until 11pm that they actually got to eat anything which explained the headache but not the melancholy. Decaying on their couch, trying to read, they found themselves bored to death. They debated if they should just go to bed but they figured another lonely night would (once again) keep them awake for hours. So instead, they skipped through various television shows that burned their last brain cells.

Around one in the morning, the temperature in their apartment dropped significantly, making the tiny hairs on the hero’s spine shoot up. They could see their own breath when they exhaled and they knew — hoped, rather — that it was what they thought it was.

They turned off the TV, blinking the grogginess out of their eyes. Familiarity surrounded them, drenched them in deep longing and as they stood up, searching for their lover, they felt the cold fingertips touch the sensitive skin of their lower back under their shirt.

“Jesus—” Jerking around violently, the hero froze as their eyes met the villain’s. Their features softened. “What took you so long?”

A dangerous ecstasy consumed them from head to toe, ate them raw and left no hair, no bones. The hero was head over heels, completely obsessed with their nemesis and they were, by god, not gonna do anything about it in a million years.

This was their idiot. Their person.

“Is traffic a poor excuse?” the villain asked, crossing arms in front of their chest. Every time the villain tilted their head, the hero could feel their own self-composure crumble.

“You can teleport,” the hero reminded them. A soft smile answered.

“Doesn’t mean I abhor road trips. There’s little space in a car.” The hero’s eyebrows bunched.

“What does that mean?”

“Limited possibilities regarding your position,” the villain said. They looked quite proud of themselves. “I like challenging you. Figuring out your limits.”

The insinuation made the hero blush and as so often, they felt like a sinner walking into a church. Sometimes they wondered if they would burst into flames if they kissed the villain one more time. Being greedy and sleeping with the enemy was wrong but falling in love with them?

Understanding their motives a little too well? That was a free ticket to hell.

“I missed you,” the hero said tenderly. A sarcastic laugh was all the villain managed.

“You missed my body.”

“I missed you.”

Silence. Two pairs of eyes staring into each other a bit too deeply. It was the kind of stare the villain gave them when they edged the hero to a climax. They loved to observe, loved to see the hero’s reactions, loved to feel them.

“You’re rude. Didn’t even knock.” The villain hummed and averted their eyes hastily, almost as if they were embarrassed.

“Sorry.” They took a step forward and snatched the hero’s wrist. Slowly, they led the palm of their hand to their face and closed their eyes. The villain drowned in the touch just as much as the hero: leaning into it, kissing the hero’s hand gently and mumbling words like so soft gave them away.

“I don’t have to stitch you up again, do I?” the hero asked eventually but the villain’s hands were already sliding down their forearms, finding their waist too easily. At this point, it was simple muscle memory. The villain knew where to touch and more importantly with which pressure.

“No, I was careful. I knew I’d get an earful if I wasn’t.” Their hand found the hero’s ass and squeezed gently. It made the hero almost jump. “I’ve been good, I promise.”

“That’s for me to decide, isn’t it?” The hero felt their pulse rushing through their veins. Almost there. Only a few inches and the villain would kiss them. They crucified themselves in their mind.

“Judge, jury and executioner,” the villain purred. They leaned in and their warm breath tickled the skin of the hero’s neck, the tip of their nose brushed the shell of the hero’s ear, forcing a needy heat into the vulnerable spot between the hero’s legs. “Condemn me.”

“I—” Before the hero could respond, the villain pushed them back into the couch and kissed them sweetly. Their mouth was still closed and it could’ve been viewed as very innocent if it wasn’t for the villain’s fingers gliding under the hero’s shirt.

“No.” The hero pulled back with their hands on the villain’s chest. Putting more distance between them wasn’t what they wanted but they needed to make one thing very clear. For a split second, the villain looked horrified. “I get on top today.”

“What?”

“No answer from you for months. No texts, no calls — nothing.” Now it was their turn to cross their arms in front of their chest. Surprisingly, the pounding of their heart helped with the words, made the trail of thought a straight line instead of a whirlpool of words.

“I apologise, I didn’t know you’d—”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to suffer.” Now, the villain looked concerned but they didn’t have time to say anything. They got flipped around, their back being pressed into the soft couch.

With a mean precision the hero had learnt from the villain, they rocked their hips carefully. Skin rubbing against clothes and clothes rubbing against clothes rubbing against skin — the villain moaned sweetly as their fingers pressed into the hero’s hips. A cruel satisfaction came over them as they watched the villain’s expression. Just a few movements and the criminal was completely under their control.

“Fuck…” Their eyes were closed and their head thrown back, completely caught off guard. Why the hero’s brain drew parallels to a fallen angel wasn’t important. It was important that it was right. They looked like some kind of saint. Something so unholy and untouchable that you wouldn’t hear from them for months.

“Never realised you can be such a good whore for me,” the hero whispered and as they saw the blown-up pupils of their lover, they began to truly enjoy this torture. “You’re always doing the work, always so eager to please. I should’ve known…”

“Please—” The villain’s usually cold body had become a heat pack, making even the hero sweat. Soon enough, the villain’s clothes fell to the ground and as the hero stared at the villain’s bare chest, tiny drops of sweat on them, they learnt something about themselves.

They wanted to lick it up. So they did. They just took what they wanted, what they needed.

The villain moaned pathetically and pulled on the hero’s hair but the hero didn’t stop there. Mouth and tongue travelled down the villain’s stomach in a low and teasing pace which the hero would use later on the villain for the whole night.

“You’re always so spoiled,” the hero said. They bit into the villain’s hip. “But I’m gonna teach you to be nice. I’ll edge you until you learn.”

[leggerefiore]

Sea Monster

cw: 18+ content, implied yandere, death, horror, evil merman, dark content, read at your own risk, Minors DNI, pokehybrid au, Sharpedo Grimsley

pairing: Grimsley/Reader

The scent of the sea stung your nostrils as the moon hovered above. Its bright reflection shined on the dark waters below beautifully yet with an ominous air. It was late, but you found yourself simply unable to sleep. Something had been plaguing you since the boat sailed in this direction. There were many rumours about these waters – the ones just far out enough from the coasts of Unova. Stories of a fierce sea monster that seemed keen to take out any vessel that dared into the area it had claimed – Sometimes being even apathetic to whatever supposed territory was believed its own and chasing after swimmers and vessels just for fun. You knew the captain was not stupid enough to venture anywhere near such a beast, but the thought remained.

Your eyes glanced down once against at the sea below as you opted to finally move away from the hull and head back into your cabin. For a moment, however, you swore that you saw something break the uneven waves of the water. Another look revealed it likely was just your imagination. There was no reason to worry. One more day was in your journey before you would arrive at Undella once more. You forced whatever worries from your mind and returned back to your room. Peace entered your mind as you finally curled up under the covers. Exhaustion hit you like the sky had fallen. Paranoia had kept you awake after hearing a few other passengers gossiping about possibly seeing the monster. You wanted to roll your eyes in retrospect. Of course, you were safe.

Of course, the captain would not incorrectly have an inaccessible zone marked on his map.

You fell into a comfortable slumber, forgetting those foolish worries and replacing them with a pleasant reprieve.

Then, you awoke. It could not have been more than a few hours later — the sun still had not risen. You instantly heard sirens and orders from the intercom to head to the deck. As you rushed to gather yourself and a few precious possessions, you noticed the room was tilting unmistakably. Panic rushed into your mind again. Feet rushed against the uneven flooring as you threw open the door to find yourself on deck. The crew seemed to be trying to maintain a calmness, yet their clear horror was not well-masked. Other passengers demanded to know what was happening or to get onto the lifeboats. For some reason, the crew seemed extremely hesitant to allow the use of them. You gathered your breath.

The winds felt chilly despite the otherwise prevalent heat of summer. Humidity was defeated by the distress of the situation. You remained apart from the crowd, trying to keep your wits. The arguing was clearly escalating. You felt a cold sweat overcome you. Why would they not allow anyone to board the lifeboats? The ship was clearly not in a good state. You dared not insert yourself, however. There were already too many voices involved and speaking over each other. Your gaze instead drifted to the dark waters surrounding the boat. The shore was still quite far away. There was no sight of any kind of land here. Endless sea in all directions.

Your mind began to drift to any and every possible outcome. Death was not unlikely. The violence of the crowd escalates into physicality. Your eyes went wide as fists flew and kicks came into it all.

Then, a loud sound — metal tearing — echoed out. The ship seemed to tilt more. You watched as more unsteady people tumble over. A few even falling overboard. You grasped tightly onto a life preserver that had landed near you. Screams, curses, and cries all rung out. Panic fully consumed the situation. Some rushed to the lifeboats in a desperate attempt to survive, while others clung to various parts of the ship. Another tearing sound echoed out, and you found yourself fall backwards. Your grip on the donut-shaped object grew suffocating as the pain of crashing into the waves hit you.

It was then that you finally realised what had happened. A dark fin broke the water. What could be mistaken as a man appeared to raise out the water, but you knew better. Scales littered his skin in small bunches while slits fluttered on his pale chest. A hybrid… You fought back a scream as he charged toward a stocky sailor. Red stained the water. You could smell the iron over the harsh scent of sea. Pained cries and guttural panic became a heavy silence — Splashing ended in that moment, too. The eerie glow of the hybrid's eyes in the still dark night left you shocked. Hiding in the debris that surrounded you, there was only desperate hope that you would go unnoticed.

More screams and cries echoed out for an unknown amount of time. All were eventually followed by an indescribable silence.  You remained still. Survival instinct took over. There was no care for fellow man. Only the urge to stay alive for another moment longer kept you together. Even when the ravaged corpse of another passenger floated past your hiding place. Those blank, soulless eyes haunted your mind. You closed your own. Why had this happened? You could only hope rescue would come. At some point, you had fallen asleep. Somehow, in the madness, you lost consciousness.

Startling awake, you felt your eyes sting from the salt of the sea and morning sun rising in the horizon. With the light of day, the situation could finally be properly assessed. Carnage surrounded you. Viscera and gore floated among the debris of the sinking ship. Bodies were indiscriminately left in various conditions. A sick red truly stained the waves. You felt ill, stomach churning at the sight. How had you lived? It was truly luck, you felt. The poor souls around you, though. Scanning the area more, you searched for any sign of the hybrid that had apparently caused the catastrophe.

Nothing.

You carefully waded out of the debris that had protected you and towards the boat. It was truly unsalvageable. A radio had to be somewhere. You carefully began to tread the waters to search for it. The horrors had to be forced away from your mind. Survival still was all the mattered. You needed to live. Tell the tale of whatever this was… Maybe save more lives. Your search became fruitful as you spotted a crew member clutching a possible match in his hands. Yet, as you began to swim towards him, his body vanished under the waves. You froze. He resurfaced. The radio did not.

Before you could process what that meant, something brushed against your leg. You screamed. A face stared up at you from the waters. Bright blue eyes and dark hair. A smile revealed nightmarish, sharp teeth. You kicked desperately, but he caught it with ease and pulled you beneath the waves, separating you from your life-preserver. Your eyes burned as you got to see the beast in its full glory. A Sharpedo hybrid. Scars littered his navy and white tail. You were about to join the rest. Your eyes closed.

“Oh, man,” a voice spoke clearly, “What a cute expression.”

Your head was above water before you realised it, arms wrapped around your waist and supporting you. The hybrid held you close to him. Horrible thoughts rushed into your mind. Had… Had he said that? He tilted his head at your reaction. Was he enjoying this?

“I'm not hungry right now,” he spoke again, “Aren't you lucky?” Your eyes were saucers while tears felt like acid. A hand came to stroke your cheek, wiping away the tears as they slid down. A smug grin never vanished from his lips.

“W-why?” you asked. Why, what? You were unable to clarify which part you wanted an explanation for specifically. All of it, truthfully, but you could only shake in the arms of the monster that had caused this situation. He closed his eyes for a moment and hummed in response to your words. Claws began to lightly dig into your skin. You felt pure fear pulse through your veins. This was still obviously an unsafe situation. You wanted to get away, yet that simply was impossible.

“Well, wouldn't you hate someone bringing such a loud machine into your home?” he replied simply. You swallowed. Thirst as beginning to burn your throat. His reasoning felt too simple. You wanted some grandiose explanation — some better example of him being evil scum that you could express hatred towards. He let out a sigh. “You look angry now,” your body was being forced against the side of the ship before you realised it. His speed and strength were startling. The bully of the sea... Sharpedos were often called. This hybrid seemed determined to fit the descriptor to the best of his ability. “That won't do, darling,” his teeth buried themselves into your collarbone.

The fabric of your shirt tore as you felt a sickening warmth spill out against your body. Your struggles to escape the man appeared to accomplish nothing. Any hit was simply absorbed or met with him biting down harder. You eventually felt your strength fading. Weakly, you had to rely on him to stay afloat. He hummed and only then pulled away. Your blood stained his lips while his slitted pupils stared straight through you. His tongue peeked out to lick away the remaining blood. “… You taste delicious,” he spoke to catch your attention. His eyes closed again, and he pressed himself closer to your body. “You're far too cute to eat,” he sighed, “I could tell from the moment I first saw you.”

Whatever fight had been in you had been thoroughly smothered. You barely could give a protest when he began to swim away with you. The carnage of his actions being abandoned. Your head felt fuzzy. The adrenaline had run its course, and your body was downright exhausted. The sleep on the water had been light and unfulfilling. Your surroundings when unacknowledged even as he brought you to some remote rocky bluff. Your breath was held unconsciously as he took you beneath the waves to re-emerge in some alcove hidden away. Air was plentiful in there as he placed you on a ledge. Light shined down from above, some break further up in rocks allowing in sunlight.

You scrambled away from him the minute you were out of the water. He only rolled his eyes in response to how you curled up against the far wall of the area.

You could only accept that you had survived, but at an unspeakable cost.

~

Grimsley had only intended to tail the boat and hit it once as a warning for treading too close to the territory he had claimed. He truly had. Something in him was feeling kind, but entertainment was a vice he could not shake. Yet, when he breached the waters to examine just where to hit the boat, his eyes saw a beautiful person leaning over the railings to glance down at the waters. Something in his mind shifted from a simple, playful attack.

He had devastated the boat in a way he had not in a long while. The people who fell into the waters were not at all his targets, yet moving so quickly and harshly had truly worked up his appetite. He moved with efficiency to search for both the human who had caught his eye and to get a quick meal. It was after he caught the first human that he heard quiet, panicked movements. His attention was carefully brought in that direction. There they were, attempting to hide among debris. A chuckle had to be fought back. How adorable. He decided to play along, swimming around and finishing the stragglers before looping back to where they were hidden.

When he saw they were sleeping, he felt his heart race in a way that was unfamiliar to him. They were so blissfully unaware of the predator that stared them down. Grimsley debated startling them awake, possibly pulling them under to do so, but he opted against it. No, he wanted to savour this. It was not every day that someone caught his attention. He lingered, waiting for them to awake. As they did, he trailed them as they searched desperately for something. Their pause in front of a specific body gave him the urge to pull it underwater and snatch whatever it was they held. It sank due to its weight. He watched their reaction closely.

His hand came to grasp their leg with little thought. Their scream stirred something within him. An attempt to kick him saw him pulling them down to him. He adored their expression. Terror, uncertainty, desperation. He could not help but comment on it. Helping them back up, he loved how they writhed against him. Oh, something was really twisting in his mind. It was only spurred on further when he finally sunk his teeth into them. The taste of their flesh and blood… The way their fight just vanished when faced with the feebleness of their situation. He was addicted. Another vice to his ever-growing pile.

He took them away from the mess of the boat, well aware that other humans were likely to show up soon and assess the damage while searching for survivors. Grimsley had left none but you. Though he knew they would not find you either.

Excitement coursed through his body at the various thoughts that were to come. Your body… Your mind… He wanted to claim every piece of you. Something inside of him demanded it.

He brought you to an isolated underwater cave and sighed internally. You scrambled away from him the minute you could. He already missed how you held on to him, accepting your fate. Though, the thrill of the chase was always the best part.

You curled away from him in a far corner, completely unaware that he could easily join you.

No, for now, he would let you have this.

But… His long-term goals — A shaky breath left him.

Something exciting was only to follow.

[disturbnot]

——— VERSES

main / pkmn — if you think you don't know him, you've probably seen him somewhere without realising it. he's your champion! he's your chosen one. he's your saint and saviour. or is he really the reason the world around you is shivering apart, little bit by little bit? he couldn't tell you as a child, and he still couldn't tell you now. this beleaguered old legend still ambles from lead to lead on his path to some kind of ultimate understanding, some kind of zenith to his messianic condition. he doesn't know what he's for, but that's okay, he knows you don't know what you're for either. the learning curve never ends. this ash can be encountered almost anywhere in the pokémon world, known to regularly drift from region to region, gig to gig, battle to battle, apocalypse to apocalypse. surely, one day, this curse will lift ... won't it?

supernatural — ash is a drifting, wayward hunter from the south-west, son of a hunter and a restaurant owner. his father passed when he was young, and during the same incident, ash became the willing vessel of the god quetzalcoatl, granting him vast power and a unique kinship with the natural world. he seeks vengeance for his father, but has become cognizant of the primordial gods' schemes and also seeks to confront and punish them.

the boys — think pokémon if they were just v'd up animals - that's it. ash grew up in a suburbian town in japan, near the site of a vought international r&d lab headed by his best friend's grandfather, and found out a little more than he should have as a young child. during an intrepid peek into oak's research lab, ash not only received a hefty dose of compound v, but managed to free one of the animals the lab had been experimenting on; a large, semi-sentient mouse with the power to conduct and discharge electricity. this event forced ash's mother (also being targeted by the yakuza for business protection) to take him away on the run. he and his mother have been weaving in and out of encroaching threats from vought and other bodies of organised crime ever since. ash seeks vengeance upon vought, both for his accidental exposure to v, and for the disappearance of his father (who may have been an unfortunate test subject in the 90s). ash has gained powers from v that seem to amplify with time and training. the simplest way to explain him would be if goku swapped out the disciplined martial arts training for slugging whiskey and throwing caution to the wind.

star trek — half-human, half-klingon, all golden retriever energy. this gung-ho starfleet prospect has never passed an exam, but exceeds in idealism, imagination, and practical xenozoology. all he's ever wanted is to see the stars and to see all of the fantastical creatures roaming out there in space ... sadly, his exam results never quite etched that fate into the stars for him. working the bars of various low-tier starships will have to do.

modern / fandomless — maybe you saw him on your tv in the early 2000s, one of the many pro wrestlers that lit the world on fire during the height of the craze. it's a pity that impassable injury cut his tenure in the ring all too short. this retired fighting performer has relegated himself to a steady but uneventful life helping his beloved mother run her snack bar, wishing that he'd taken up a career in animal care.

cowboy / western — nobody can really give you an exact date of when ash rolled into town, or when his local ranch practically bloomed out of the arid ground, but it seems like he's been there since anyone can remember. he's never done any harm, he's a kind and hardy man, known mainly to mind his business and ranch his prized cattle. rumour has it though, his ranch house is simply teeming with animal life; from his herding dogs, to his ratting cats, to his hunting birds. some say there are creatures in that home that man has never seen before, but hey, that's just a local rumour spun by bored tavern-wives... right?

new verses to be added! (rgg, monster hunter, and star wars verses coming soon)

[redjademilktea]

Hello hello! This idea for an Imodna fic has been sitting in my head for *ages* now. I'm gonna be working on this first chapter later tonight, but I'm just kind of excited to share before I polish this thing up and post Chapter 1 to AO3!! It's a modern AU, set in Exandria. Imogen is a Ph.D. in Sociology at Dayal Hall University in Jrusar. And Laudna... well, let's just say this is an exes-to-lovers type of deal. Recent canon angst compels me I suppose. Anyway, please enjoy the snippet!

----

Imogen pinched the bridge of her nose between her eyes. She’d been staring at this damn screen all day and it was starting to strain her vision. Normally, she’d be arms deep in grading assignments, wrapping up last minute lecture notes, finishing up office hours, literally anything else other than staring at her now empty email inbox. An impressive feat no doubt, Imogen idly noted. She can’t remember the last time it had even stayed this clear. A testament to her sheer boredom in the moment.

When she glanced back again and her still empty inbox, she thudded her head against her desk. The confirmation email should have been sent hours ago. She should be already back in her apartment, well into packing for her research trip to the Heartmoor by now. But instead she remained stuck in her office at Dayal Hall University. Patiently – very patiently – awaiting the confirmation email from the assistant archivist from the Heartmoor Hamlet Folklore, Oddities, and Curiosities Museum to finally confirm her appointment time so she could forward it to her chair the Sociology department admin staff to confirm the start of her sabbatical.

She let out a pained groan as the page she had refreshed for the twentieth time in five minutes remained unchanged. Defeated, she glanced around her office, tapping a pen to her desk as she did so. In the left side of the office, the low coffee table surrounded by assorted seating and a lone bean bag laid undisturbed in the corner. The bright yellow rug and strategically placed lighting provided a warmth to help combat the harsh fluorescent lights above. While normally reserved for students during her office hours, her pending sabbatical rendered them empty for the time being.

Huffing out a sigh, her gaze shifted to the right side of her office. Large bookshelves filled with monographs across disciplines lined the shelves, though most of the titles remained firmly within the realm of sociology. Imogen passively noted the growing number of office plants that seemed to be appearing without her knowledge. At least one or two had made their way from the tops to the actual shelves themselves, obfuscating the books behind them as their sprawling leaves spilled over their potted houses.

On top of one of the lower bookshelves sat a framed diploma, reading:

Starpoint Conservatory

Department of Sociology confers onto

Imogen Temult

The degree of Doctorate in Philosophy

Below the ornate frame next to yet another potted plant Imogen did not remember acquiring sat several framed photos. While the majority of them were from her time at Dayal Hall – a mix of faculty photos, candid shots of university sponsored outings, and conference shots – one in particular pulled her drifting thoughts.

In the photo, a recently graduated Imogen stood, awkward smile and stiff posture unaided by the weight of various leis and her doctoral regalia, next to a woman with braided hair flowing over the shoulder of her tan blazer. The woman bore a striking resemblance to Imogen, but tired, sunken eyes belied her wary demeanor. It was the first time she’d seen her mother in over a decade. And it was the last time she’d seen her since.

Imogen wondered, then, what her mother – the renowned anthropologist Dr. Liliana Temult from the Aydinlan Seminary in Yios – thought of her career. Her mother’s focus on her career and work had driven a wedge in her family relationship to be sure. It was part of the reason Imogen chose a smaller university to establish her academic career in the first place. One of the only things her mother had ever really said to her on the rare occasion they spoke over the phone was to stay away from the academy and the rigor of it all. Ruefully, she was reminded of the sorry state of their relationship now, all communication conducted over formal channels, sent from Liliana’s university email.

Next to the frame sat a small, stuffed white horse. Imogen’s melted into a short-lived fondness over the plush before the edges of a well-trodden sadness began to seep in. She told herself she kept the plush to make her office feel more welcoming and homely. That her students could feel more at ease knowing she wasn’t just some hardass professor and that they could trust her.

But the unspoken truth remained. The horse – Flora, after her childhood horse in Gelvaan – remained there because of what it reminded her of. Of who it reminded her of. Being gifted the small plush was, of course, the last time she ever saw L-

A knock at the door shook her from her spiraling thoughts. Imogen shook her head slightly, as if to clear the lingering fraught emotions from her mind.

Imogen cleared her throat, “Door’s unlocked.”

At that, the door opened, the familiar gentle and deliberate turn of the handle bringing a small smile to her face. The door further opened as Orym made his way into her office. In his hand, a stack of books reaching well past his head was delicately balanced as he gracefully moved towards her desk.

“Got the books you wanted,” Orym said, placing the stack down with surprising ease.

“You didn’t have to bring ‘em all at once,” Imogen said, smirking

“I know. But I didn’t know how much longer you’d be here.”

“I’ll be here all night if I don’t get this damn confirmation email,” Imogen huffed, slinking down her office chair.

“They still haven’t gotten back to you?” Orym raised an eyebrow.

“No. Been starin’ at my inbox all day waitin’ for it. Thanks for these by the way,” Imogen tilted her head towards the tall stack of texts. She grabbed the book at the top and began thumbing through it. The cover read Home Under the Moonlight: Werewolves and the Queer Imaginary in the Gloomed Jungles.

“Any time,” Orym nodded. “And they probably just need a few hours. Sounds like a small operation.”

“Yeah,” Imogen sighed. “And this small operation is makin’ me regret my career choices with every damn minute they don’t send that confirmation.”

“Ooh I’m hearing something about regretting career choices.” Imogen looked up to watch as Fearne casually strolled into her office, moving around Orym to place the potted plant in her hands onto another shelf. “I hear so many professors say that. I think it must mean I’m pretty good at it since I don’t regret anything.”

“Pretty good at what, Fearne?” Imogen asked flatly, finally understanding the source of the growing garden that was supposed to be her office.

“At professoring,” Fearne wiggled her eyebrows.

Truth be told, Imogen never did figure out what department Fearne worked in, let alone if she was even faculty at all. Imogen had only just recently accepted her position at Dayal Hall when Fearne wandered in on her setting up her new office, vaguely alluding to some “professorly obligation” to introduce herself to “the hot new hire in the Soc department.” Despite the odd introduction, Imogen had been grateful to not have to start out so alone. Not after… everything. And Fearne and her became close quickly. Fearne helped Imogen get acquainted with Orym, the university’s head librarian, and the two have been indispensable to Imogen ever since.

Imogen eyed the new foliage adorning her bookshelf before looking at Orym, who simply shared a slightly bemused look with her. “Fearne, what are you do-,” Imogen started before realizing the futility of the question and changing course. “I’m gonna be on sabbatical, Fearne. I won’t be- I can’t take care of these plants if I’m not here.”

“Oh it’s okay,” Fearne said, reassuringly. “I have a key to your office. Me and Orym can take turns plant sitting while you’re gone.” Fearne produced a key from her pocket, waving it at Imogen before slipping it back.

“How did- Fearne. You can’t have a copy of my office k-”

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. Geeze louise. Professors share keys all the time. It’s part of the pact.”

Imogen struggled to string together a response before a flash on her computer monitor caught her eye. Hurriedly, Imogen rushed to open the newly received email.

Hello Dr. Temult!

I’m so sorry for the delay! I had a few visitor sentiment surveys that demanded my attention!

Anyway, I am writing to confirm your appointment for next Grisson afternoon at 3 P.M. Look for me at the front desk!

Thank you,

Prism Grimpoppy

Ph.D. Candidate – University of the Heartmoor

Archival Assistant

“Finally,” Imogen muttered under her breath. She forwarded the email before slamming her laptop closed in relief. “Looks like I’m headin’ off,” Imogen said, turning to Orym and Fearne.

“Good luck,” Orym said. And then, carefully, “Just… let us know if you need anything while you’re out there,” Orym added, placing a gentle hand onto Imogen’s shoulder. Imogen winced slightly.

“I’ll be fine,” Imogen said, tensing her jaw. She knew Orym meant well. She knew. Fearne and Orym didn’t know every single detail. But they knew about the last time Imogen had done a big research trip like this. How she had a… tumultuous experience to say the least.

What they didn’t know was the depth and scope of the hurt. What they didn’t know was just how much pain, stress, fear, and loss she had experienced then. How she almost withdrew from the program, taking a leave to go back to Gelvaan for a year to reckon with the extent of her hurt. They didn’t know how much she withdrew into herself, wrestling with the scars left as she trudged her way through writing her dissertation and scraping past the finish line, battered, bruised, degree in hand. They didn’t know that it was when her and Laudna–

“Okay,” Orym said. “But just so you know. We’re here.”

“Thanks,” Imogen responded. A muted, but still fond smile grew on her lips.

“And hey,” Fearne added, “maybe you can take this time to do some personal research if you know what I mean.”

“Fearne,” Imogen rolled her eyes as she packed up her bag.

“What? Archives can be so romantic.”

[up-to-some-good]

Suprise

Written for the @wolfstarmicrofic prompt - December 7th: Bang Bang

Early December 1981

In previous years, a series of loud bangs emitting from the door would have Remus drawing his wand and blasting his way into the apartment. With the war behind them, however, the noises only made Remus hang his head and sigh, wondering if he shouldn’t just go to Godric’s Hollow and have a peaceful tea with Lily. It had been a tough day, though, and the only person he really wanted to see was Sirius, so he braced himself and walked into the apartment.

Fortunately, nothing was on fire or obviously wrong. The scent of garlic and rosemary was drifting from the kitchen, accompanying the crashing noise and the now-audible noise of Sirius cursing at whatever he was doing.

Remus had to pause for a moment at the kitchen doorway when he caught sight of his boyfriend. Sirius was standing in his socks on top of the counter, reaching for the biggest pot they owned. His hair was tied back haphazardly with his wand, and he was wearing Hope’s bright purple floral apron over his usual ripped jeans and band t-shirt. The source of noise was apparent immediately, as various pots which had previously been in front of the one Sirius wanted were scattered on the floor, having been discarded during his search.

Sirius started as Remus cleared his throat and smiled up at him from the doorway. Recovering quickly, he grabbed the pot and jumped off the counter, setting it down before pulling Remus into a hug.

“Welcome home, love. How was your day?”

“Bad,” Remus answered quickly as Sirius moved away to check something in the oven. “What are you doing?”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No, not even a little,” Remus laughed. “I would like to talk about what you’re doing and why there are pots all over the floor when you could have used magic to get the one you needed.”

Sirius blushed as the other man gestured to the chaos that had befallen their kitchen. He quickly pulled his wand from his hair and sent the pots back to their rightful place.

“I’m cooking,” Sirius answered quietly. “You know I like to do things by hand, so I just kind of forgot to use magic for the pot.”

Still blushing, he quickly turned back to the stove and started adding what seemed like copious amounts of vegetables to the pot with some water and salt. Remus took a step forward to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist from behind.

“Is there a reason that you, a man who just yesterday asked me if you really need water to cook pasta, are cooking enough food to feed the entire Order?”

Sirius turned around and buried his head in Remus’s chest, mumbling something inaudible.

“Can you repeat that, Pads? I couldn’t quite hear you,” he chuckled.

“I’m practising for Christmas!” Sirius burst out, lifting his head enough to make the words audible, while still resting his forehead against Remus’s collarbone to avoid eye contact.

“Pads, why on earth do you need to practise for Christmas? Lily always cooks for everyone, and she’ll be delighted to have guests now that she’s allowed to.”

 Instead of explaining, Sirius pulled away and walked briskly to the living room. He returned before Remus could follow and held out a piece of parchment to his partner.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he said. “They were going to do it over drinks tonight, but Lily should know better than to ask me to keep a secret.”

Confused, Remus opened the letter.

Dear Sirius

I have a big favour to ask you, but you’ll need a bit of backstory first, so I hope you don’t mind the slightly long letter.

I haven’t been feeling well for the past few days, just endlessly nauseous and exhausted, so James suggested we go to Poppy for help. She had a suggestion for us, and it turns out that she was right.

I’m pregnant, about one month along!

Harry is over the moon that he’s going to be a big brother, and James is already picking out paint for the nursery, but I have a slightly more urgent concern: Christmas. With how sick I’ve been feeling, I won’t be able to cook the meal this year. Just the thought of the smell of all that rich food makes me feel ill. Do you think you could do it instead?

You can use our kitchen, of course, and any of my recipes that you may need, but I know you have Effie’s recipes too, and I think James would be so pleased to have some of his mother’s cooking.

Let me know?

I do also have a second ask: please don’t tell Remus yet! We’ll see you both for drinks tonight, but we’d like to tell him ourselves and ask him to be the godfather.

All my love,

Lily

Remus eyes were stinging by the end of it. He looked up to see Sirius smiling gently at him.

“This is real?” he asked. “They’re having another baby?”

Sirius nodded.

“And they want me to be the godfather?”

“Of course they do, Moons.”

Remus pulled Sirius into his arms, picking him up and spinning him around, both of them laughing and crying.

“What can I do to help? Can I peel potatoes? Carrots? What do you need?”

Sirius tilted Remus’s head down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before answering.

“Do me a favour?”

Remus nodded quickly.

“Just act surprised.”

[mmriesoftvat]

maybe ready to come back. but i have some things i need to get off my chest. nothing about tumblr, just shit in my personal life and i need to share.

i have been very very depressed for over 10 years now. every friend i had in person up and left for various reasons. either drifting apart, or crashing and burning the friendship until not even the ashes could be salvaged. to this day i still don't know what happened or even if i had a chance of fixing things.

but that kind of shit eats at you, and it eats away at your very core until there's nothing left. i bounced around here and there, trying to find a sense of community, but even online bonds were fickle and shaky at best.

it's been excellent here. the problem is, as a result of all the shit going sideways in my irl life, i tend to take things a lot more personally online than i know i should. every time something even goes slightly haywire, it fucks with my head and i end up having anxiety/panic attacks, and then my boyfriend gets concerned/angry because i'm curled up in a ball sobbing over "online friendships" and it's just a neverending cycle.

my communication sucks. my guilt over not being here sucks. i figured if i took a break, i'd be able to step back and clear my head some, try to actually separate myself from tumblr and focus on other things. and i did.

i found some form of faith. i won't get into detail over it, but it's providing a comfort i didn't know i needed for so many years. i just needed SOME kind of outlet to turn to, and it's helping me little by little. the past month has been a test of my patience too. my boyfriend got covid, i reconnected with my younger sister, and things are still rocky at home, but slowly becoming a little more stable for me.

all in all, i actually, genuinely feel like i could be some level of okay, for the first time in many years. not pretending, not a glimpse or a fleeting moment of happiness, but a genuine sense of okay that is long overdue.

i don't feel like i've outwardly changed. i still feel like me, just with a newfound sense of happiness. all that said though, the hiatus and break was long overdue. THANK YOU for letting me figure myself out once and for all. the break without the overwhelming guilt definitely helped me out, and because of that, i feel ready to come back.

i'm not going to jump headfirst into things, because i still am and will be addicted to tf2 for some time to come (if you want to play it with me, message me. they finally got rid of the bot infestation), and i am making it a POINT to spend more time with my boyfriend and reconnecting with him. it's something we both needed.

anyway.

chongyun still best boy!

[poke-me-with-a-stick]

Chapter 10 of ‘Artificial Wingman’

for the full story on AO3, click Here!

---

In the end, he didn't get to check out the apartment. After the robbery, which was not close to his current location, thank you very much- He stumbled across several separate break-in attempts, along with a handful of muggings and a small-time drug dealer who just happened to make the mistake of propositioning one of the Alley's kids. 

When he finally stumbled into his apartment, the sun was painting the smog-covered sky with orange and pink hues. Any thoughts about the apartment were lost in his exhausted haze as he stumbled through his bedroom door, taking his helmet and mask off before flopping onto the squeaky mattress. He didn't bother with the rest of his vigilante gear, fading out of consciousness painting the smog-filled horizon with purple and orange hues. Kicking off his boots, Jason pulled his helmet and domino mask off before collapsing onto his squeaky mattress. Any and all thoughts of checking the safehouse fled his mind, his brain muddled by exhaustion. The man was out before his head hit the pillow. The only thing that managed to push to the forefront of  his mind before he drifted off, was the hopeful thought of sleeping until dusk. 

Sadly, he didn’t get that. Barely three hours later, Jason found himself awoken by the familiar sound of his phone ringing. Grumbling, he threw his arm out towards the sound, feeling around blindly for the device. Several things crashed to the ground from his nightstand, an empty plastic cup, a vanilla and lavender scented candle that was gifted to him by one of the alley kids, and a book he had been reading during his down time, all hitting the floor with various thuds. Finally his fingers grazed the simplistic black case of his phone.

Fumbling around with it, Jason tried to hang up on whoever wanted to interrupt his much needed sleep. He bit back a groan when instead, he picked the call up. Faintly, his brother’s voice filtered through the speakers. “Hold up a sec,” he rasped. Squinting at the bright screen, he clicked the speaker icon. Letting the phone drop back onto his chest, he sighed. “Alright, what is it?” 

“Hey, Jaybird! How’ve you been?” Dick asked, his voice much too cheery for Jason’s current mood. 

“Cut to the chase, Dick. What do you want?” He growled out, not really up for all the ‘sibling pleasantries’ crap. He really, really just wanted to go back to sleep. 

Jason could practically hear the pout in the man’s voice as he spoke. “Aww, what? I can’t just call my baby bro?” Even with how tired he was, Jason could hear the forced cheer in his brother’s tone. He stayed quiet, waiting. And- “Alright, fine. I did have a reason.” -there it was. As much as Dick liked to boast about the power of the eldest sibling, even he wasn’t immune to the uncomfortable silence. 

“Spill.” He grumbled. Maybe if he made this call quick enough, he could hang up and get a few more hours in. 

“Well, you know how Damian went AWOL a few days ago, right?” Worry crept into the man’s voice.

“...Yeah.” How could he not know? It was broadcast across all the comms by Oracle, not to mention the way the group chat blew up with any and all possible sightings of the teen, not that most of them panned out. The family was so tightly strung that even the sight of black hair or green eyes was enough to set them off. Jason thanked whatever entities that resided out there that the others were at least thorough enough to make sure it was the right kid they were following before trying to grab him. 

“Well, we’ve been running into a few, er, dead ends over here, and I was kind of hoping to get your help. You have eyes and ears in places cameras can’t reach.” Which was Dick’s way of saying Oracle had nothing. Which, while concerning, wasn’t really all that unexpected considering the demon brat’s background.

“What about Replacement, or Cass, or Steph? Surely they would have an easier time tracking the brat down, yeah?” All of them were extremely capable, as well as charismatic. Well, Tim and Steph were, at least. Cass was better suited for tracking people down quickly. Honestly, it was a bit surprising that they hadn’t found him yet. 

“Well, Tim is out for a bit, sadly. And Cass is acting… weird. Steph is checking around places Damian usually visits, but so far no dice.” 

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

“Huh? Oh, Tim worked himself a bit too hard and is currently passed out in his room. Alfred said to let him sleep, so he’s off the roster until he joins us again.” Dick rambled. Jason could imagine the hand motions going on right about now.

“What did you mean about Cass? And what about Bruce? Isn’t he looking for the kid?” With every word, hope that he would get any more sleep slowly died. 

“Well, Bruce has been looking, but he had to attend a set of super important board meetings at WE. He tried his best to postpone them, but they were pretty insistent about it.” Dick told him, a bit of genuine humor leaking through. 

“And Cass?”

“Ah, Cass. That one’s a bit harder.” Rustling from the other end, telling Jason that Dick was more than likely running his hand through his hair. “Well, for starters, she doesn’t seem all that worried. I mean, she’s plenty worried about Dami, but it’s less like an ‘Oh God He’s Missing!’ kind of way and more like a ‘I hope he’s eating alright’ kind of worried. And she’s been disappearing quite a bit. Not answering her phone until she gets back.” 

“And you didn’t find that suspicious at all?” Damn, were all of his siblings morons?

Dick laughed. “I’m not dumb, Jay. Of course I found it suspicious. But when I asked Alfred if he knew anything, all he told me was that she knew what she was doing, and that we should probably leave it alone and focus on the task at hand.” Yeah, that sounded like Alfred alright. But if Alfred knew what Cass was up to, then it probably wasn’t anything too bad. 

For now, Jason dismissed it. “Look, Dick. I’ll tell you what I told you when O gave me the news the first time. I’ll keep an eye out, but the kid can take care of himself. If he was really in danger, he would at least tell us, yeah?” Jason ignored the part of him that worried that the teen was a bit too much like him. Stubborn, and way too cocky. Thinking he could do things on his own without help. When Dick didn’t respond, Jason sighed heavily. “I’ll look around later tonight, if it’s not too busy. Alright?”

The grin Dick must have had was practically audible. “Yeah, alright. Thank you, Jason. Just, if you do find anything, call me. Okay?”

“Dick, you’re the first one I’ll call if I find the demon brat.” With that, he hung up. Letting the phone fall from his hand and onto the bedspread, Jason groaned. Flinging one arm across his face, Jason sighed. As much as his body begged for sleep, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to doze off again. Instead, he pushed himself up, slipping off the bed and stumbled over to the closet. Donning a pair of jeans and a plain gray T-shirt, he then headed to the kitchen. If he was gonna be up, food was a must.

Unfortunately, Jason found his kitchen in desperate need of a restock. His cabinets were bare aside from a box of out-of-date crackers, and his refrigerator didn’t have anything much either. Standing up from where he was crouched, digging through yet another empty cabinet, he sighed. Looks like the only way to go is fast food. And, much to Jason’s annoyance, the closest fast food joint just so happened to be the Batburger about two blocks away.

He was tempted just to ignore his hunger and grab some groceries for a proper meal, but the last time he had eaten was yesterday morning. And his stomach was having none of it. A loud gurgle from his abdomen made his decision for him. Slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing his wallet, Jason began the trek. His bike would have been better, but he wasn’t gonna risk losing it just for some greasy burgers. Besides, a little cardio never killed anyone. 

___

Jazz had been wandering around this perpetually gloomy city for the better part of two days, and she was beginning to think that this was all just a wild goose chase. She couldn’t track Danny like any other decently strong spirit would be able to, not ghostly enough to see or feel the ambient ectoplasm the teen let off naturally. But she was somewhat ghostly. One of the perks of being a strongly contaminated liminal, she was able to find areas coated in larger doses of ectoplasm. While it didn’t work that well in Amity, a city submerged in the stuff, it worked pretty well in places that didn’t give off a whole bunch. Places like this city. 

She sighed as she passed another spot, the shimmering light blue mist sending a shiver down her spine as she passed. It wasn’t the strongest one she had come across, not by a longshot, but it was fresher than most of the one’s she had been finding. She felt like she had been all over the city at this point, having found the park where Danny had most likely tried his ‘experiment’ if the broken bird fountain was anything to go by. A mall that had had two spots, one in an occult shop that smelled way too strongly of incense along with one that coated the entirety of the plaza’s water fountain. An ice rink, which was a somewhat pleasant surprise. It warmed her that her brother still enjoyed the activity she had first introduced him to. 

A grocery store, a movie theater, a flower shop, tons of random alleyways and sidewalks had been doused in her baby brother’s presence. There was even a rooftop that curled with the wintery mist. Not that she had climbed up there, not after spotting the brightly dressed cosplayers parkouring from roof to roof. She didn’t know enough about this dimension, and if there was a chance that they weren’t just fun dressing adrenaline junkies,  she didn’t want to be on their radar. 

Jazz looked up as she neared another spot, this one a bit different than the others. Sitting in front of her was a plain brick building, the front window along with the glaring neon sign above declaring it ‘The Batburger!’ Some sort of restaurant, judging by the strong smell of burgers and fries that wafted under the plexiglass door. Her stomach gave a singular growl at the aroma. 

Turning away, she focused on another point in the distance, this one a bit fresher, and started towards it quickly. Loitering around would only make her more hungry, and the quickest way to solve that was to find her brother and get home. Where she knew that the money in her wallet would work. In her haste, Jazz didn’t notice the man until she ran into him, tumbling backwards. She would have landed hard on her rump if not for the two strong, burly arms that wrapped around  her.

With a startled gasp, she looked up. Two beautiful green-tinged blue eyes met her teal ones, the same shocked look reflected back at her. A lock of white hair slipped down his forehead, drawing her attention further upwards. Raven black, a shade lighter than her brother’s true black, sat messy along his head. That singular lock had strayed from a rather soft-looking tuft of white that stood out proudly against the darker strands that surrounded it. 

Tingles ran down her arms from where he touched her, almost like a ghost’s signature, but much weaker. ‘Liminal,’ she thought, letting her gaze drop back down to meet his. A small, friendly smile spread across her face, finally registering the position they were in. Her, bent over backwards, legs locked underneath her in case her support failed suddenly. And him, towering over her, both arms tucked snuggly around her waist, almost like they had done a drop during a tango. It was a bit of an awkward position, especially to keep holding like this. The backs of her knees were beginning to ache from the strain of staying like this. 

“Umm, are you planning on letting me up anytime soon?” She asked, her smile widening slightly at the blush that spread across the man’s face. Cleaning his throat, he straightened both of them up quickly, holding her until she regained her balance. When he was sure she was steady, he smoothed out her clothes and took a step back. 

Both of them were silent for a moment, before Jazz decided to break it. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m so sorry.”

Both of them paused, looking at each other as they registered their overlapped words. Opening her mouth, Jazz stuttered in her apology, before motioning towards him. “You first.” She giggled when she saw him make the same gesture, only to halt when she spoke. He froze for a minute, before nodding.

“I’m sorry, I should have watched where I was going.” She laughed slightly and waved him off. 

“Yeah, I should have watched where I was going too. I’m sorry.” Jazz smiled at him once more, nodding to him, before turning around. 

She didn’t get very far down the sidewalk before  he called out. “Hey, wait!” Turning, she watched him jog over to her. “I really am sorry for almost knocking you over. So, uh. Maybe I could buy you a burger as an apology?” He gestured towards the restaurant behind them.  

Jazz almost said no, almost told him it really wasn’t necessary. But her stomach took that moment to betray her. A loud growl interrupted any answer she might have given him. He smirked at her as a dark red blush spread across her face. Ducking her head slightly, all she could really do was nod. He said nothing as he led her into the establishment, something she appreciated greatly. 

As soon as the door opened, she was flooded with the wintery chill of her brother’s presence. A cold that would have made most people shiver and tense, but instead she found herself relaxing into the familiar feeling. Strangely enough, it seemed the man in front of her had the exact opposite reaction, the muscles in his back tensing dramatically until they reached the strongest point, ‘where Danny must have been sitting,’. As they passed the booth, the man’s tense muscles seemed to give all at once, causing the man to stumble. Jazz leapt forward, catching the man while silently cursing to herself under the brunt of the man’s weight. Thankfully, he recovered quickly, murmuring another apology to her as they walked past the booth and over to the counter. ‘He’s a stronger liminal than I thought,’ she kept a close eye on him as they came to a stop.

As they waited in line, the man turned to her. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t really know what happened.” It took her a moment to realize what he was talking about. 

“Oh! It’s no problem, really!” She rushed to assure him. “Besides, it’s not like you could help it, right? That dizzy spell must have come out of nowhere.” Did he not know that he was a liminal? It was a possibility, she supposed. She wouldn’t have known about her own liminality if it hadn’t been for Danny’s doctor friend Frostbite. She shook her head, glancing around to keep from staring at the man. 

Behind the counter, a bored teen in a cowl glanced at them before letting his eyes drift around again. “Welcome to the Batburger, home of the bat burger, what can I get you on this bat-tacular day?” His tone made it clear how much he wanted to be anywhere else but here. 

The man  turned to her. “Well? What do you want to eat?” 

She frowned a bit at that, looking up at the illuminated menu above the costumed teen’s head. None of the options made much sense to her, all seemingly named after something… maybe a character? Sighing, she gave up, instead turning back to the man  beside her. “I’ve never eaten here before. Any recommendations?”

“Hmm,” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before nodding to himself. “Alright.” Turning to the teen, he ordered. “Two batmeals, both large, with soda for drink.” 

The teen typed the order before looking back up. “Would you like either of those jokerized?” He asked. 

The man’s lip twitched at the question, but all he did was shake his head. “No. No Jokerized fries, thanks.” Jazz couldn’t sense emotion like Danny could, but even she could practically feel his irritation. No, she could actually feel it. A surge of energy, much like the ones Danny gave off in tense situations, filled the air. It sent an almost slimy sensation down her back, raising the hair on her arms with the almost toxic aura it had. She couldn’t help but frown at the man’s broad, leather covered back in concern. 

“That’ll be ten seventy two, and your order will be out in a bit.” He reached for something out of view, lifting up two large disposable cups with a bat symbol printed on the side. “Here are your drink cups, refills are free.” Business concluded, the teen grabbed his phone from the pocket of his black apron, leaning against the counter as he scrolled aimlessly. 

The man headed towards the drink fountain, Jazz following him as he pointed out all of the themed drinks and explained what they really were. She settled on a cola, or as it was called here, the ‘Batgirl Fizz’. At least at Nasty Burger, they called things by what they were. Well, when it came to the drinks, anyways. As the man poured his, Jazz decided to find a seat. The restaurant itself was pretty empty, a couple near the door and a tween swinging their legs as they perched on one of the stools near the counter while their guardian paid for their meal. Even with all the available seating, Jazz still found herself drawn to the booth that had the strongest layering of Danny’s presence. 

The man found her a few seconds later, grimacing slightly as he sat down across from her, but relaxing into the cheap red upholstery after a moment. The two of them sat quietly, His fingers drumming on the faux wood tabletop as Jazz tapped her foot on the slightly sticky tiled flooring. 

Eventually, she broke the silence. “I’m Jasmine.” She told him suddenly, holding her hand out to him. He glanced up at her, surprised, but took her offered hand anyways. 

“A very pretty name.” He complimented her. “I’m Jason.” His handshake was firm, the calluses on his fingers brushing against the ones that decorated her’s, sending shivers down her spine for a completely different reason than earlier.

“Call me Jazz.” She could feel the blush lightly dusting her cheeks. ‘God, I hope he doesn’t own a motorcycle. Danny will never let me live it down.’ She opened her mouth to say something else, whether it be something she would later regret saying she will never know, because the teen at the counter took that moment to call out their order number.

Jason quickly dropped her hand and stood up, his own face flushing slightly as he muttered something about grabbing their food and being right back. She took the time he was gone to compose herself. ‘Your here to look for Danny. Not to get flustered over hot men.’ she told herself firmly. ‘Even if they are built like a tank with actual muscles.’ 

By the time Jason made it back, Jazz had gotten over her slight meltdown, her exterior cool and collected. She had on her ‘Nice Face’, as Danny called it, a small smile that reached her eyes, but didn’t crinkle the corners of her eyes.

Jason sat their food down carefully before sliding back into his seat and dividing it between them. Once properly divided, he ripped the wrapper off of his burger and took a large bite, chewing slowly as his stomach audibly growled. Jazz’s stomach responded in kind, prompting her to follow his lead. Tearing the thin foil wrapper, she took a much smaller bite than he did, her eyes opening wide for a moment as she tasted the burger. ‘A bit better than the Nasty Burger.’ she thought after her second bite. Reaching over, she nibbled on one of the fries that came with her burger. ‘The fries could use work.’ she decided, wincing at the sogginess of it before swiping it through a small dipping cup of ketchup. Taking another bite, she nodded at the slightly altered taste. All in all, not bad for her first meal from another universe.

Jazz was half way through her burger when the silence was broken again. “Soo,” Jason Drawled out. She glanced up at him, her chewing slowing down as she waited for him to continue. “What are you doing here in Gotham?”

She swallowed her bite of burger, taking a sip from her cola before responding. “Well, to be completely honest, my baby brother is missing.” She told him. His face was blank for a moment, before concern and a bit of anger replaced it. 

“He’s missing? Was he kidnapped? How do you know he’s here?” The anger, no more like a fierce protective rage, was nonexistent on his face now, but it was practically tangible in the air between them. 

“He is missing, but he wasn’t kidnapped.” She rushed to assure him. “He came here of his own volition, but he hasn’t checked up with me in a few days. I got worried, so I decided to come after him.” Jason’s face had a doubtful look about it, but he didn’t say anything, instead nodding as he polished off his burger and started in on his fry. She didn’t miss the way his face scrunched slightly when he tasted the grease himself, dipping it in his own serving cup of ketchup before the next bite.

“What does he look like?” Jason asked her after a moment. 

“Well, he’s about five three, with messy black hair and icy blue eyes. His teeth are kind of sharp, like fangs I suppose, though he’d never bite anyone, not without a reason anyways.” Her worry for her missing sibling slipped in that moment, causing her to ramble. “His eyes also kind of glow sometimes, and he has these really pale freckles on his face that kind of look like constellations. He also has a light scar that runs up his neck and partially onto his face, from an accident he was in a few years back.” She took a breath to continue, but Jason held up his hand to stop her. 

“Alright, I think I’ve got it.” He took a sip of his drink. “Do you need any help looking for him?”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Jazz responded immediately. “We just met, I really wouldn’t want to waste your time like that.” He frowned at her as she spoke. “Besides, I’m confident that I’ll be able to find him eventually.” He didn’t seem to take comfort in her words, but kept his mouth shut, focusing instead on the rest of his fries.

They sat in silence after that, both of them finishing their food quickly. The entire time, Jason had a look that seemed to be a mixture of worry and deep thought.

Piling their trash on the tray their food came on, Jason was quick to throw it away himself before meeting her by the front door. He patted her shoulder as they walked out, pausing on the sidewalk to shake hands again, slipping a piece of paper into her palm. “My number.” He told her when she gave him a curious look. “If you need anything else, you can call me, alright?” She didn’t get the chance to object before he was walking away, disappearing around the corner before she could really gather her bearings. Her chest squeezed lightly as the man left her line of sight, an almost sad feeling overcoming her. Shaking her head, she turned back to her original task.

Huffing out a noise that was half sigh, half laugh, she turned to face the opposite direction. There, in the distance, was that feeling of another ‘hot spot.’ It was fainter than it was earlier, meaning that it was probably from at least a day or two ago, but it was something. Sighing again, she started off in that direction. Completely unaware of the eyes that still watched her from around the corner. Or the tracker that had been oh-so-casually slipped into her pocket.

—

Jason watched from around the corner as the Goddess woman strides off in the direction of middle/upper Gotham, a destination clearly in mind despite her obvious lack of knowledge of the city she was traversing. When she blended into the crowd, ‘How?! She was six feet tall with flaming red hair, how did she disappear that quickly?’, he turned to the tracker on his phone, a little red dot showing him exactly where she was. According to the tracker he had slipped into her pocket, she was headed towards what was well known as a teenage hangout spot, something on par with what a normal person would search when looking for a missing younger sibling. 

Not that Jason thought that she had lied to him. No, it was just good to have proof in her actions as well as her words.

… Damn he was becoming as paranoid as Bruce, wasn’t he?

Shaking his head, Jason returned to his home screen. There were more important things he could focus on. Like how there was apparently another missing teen in Gotham, this one also with black hair and blue eyes. Granted, Demon brat’s eyes were green, not blue, but his point still stands. 

As far as he knew, B hadn’t picked up any new strays. Though, it would explain Damian’s sudden disappearance if that was the case. None of them really knew how the teen would react, should Bruce’s adoption tendencies strike again, but He’s pretty sure that it was Tim who had money on storming out. 

Then again, if that WAS the case, then why was everyone so worried about the brat? Things just weren’t really adding up right in Jason’s mind. Both cases were connected somehow, his gut told him so. And if there’s one thing he had learned in all his years of being a vigilante/crime lord/ anti-hero, it was to trust his gut.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, Jason decided to head home for now. A rudimentary plan was beginning to form in his head, most of the details spotty due to his lack of vital information, but a plan nonetheless. But he needed something from home to enact it. After all, Jason Peter Todd-Wayne the civilian might not be able to help in the case of (possibly) two missing teens, but Vigilante and Anti-Hero of Crime Alley, The Red Hood, would be more than capable of tracking them down, and kicking the asses of whoever kept them gone for so long.

And if there was the possibility of getting to spend a bit more time with a beautiful, kickass redhead, well, no one could really say anything about it to him right? It was just an added bonus of the mission.

---

(I know that there are probably some misspellings and grammar mistakes, but its okay because I tried my best.)

For the lovely person who made the prompt for this story, along with all the amazing people who follow along with it:  @halfblackwolfdemon @manapeer @xxwintrynightzxx @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @blu-lilac @academicpurposes @secretdestinywerewolf @passivedecept @naluforever3 @postit-nope @spiteismymiddlename @2t-productions @plague-daisy @feet-achy @bubblecookies16 @thesapphiredragon13 @justwannabecat @magicalcollecter @adeniumdream @amuseofminds @lupagrim @readerkayden @dr-syko-pharm-4 @ladythugs @angelheartgamer @markthespot68 @kyrianclawraith @michikoy-yuki @servasvictoria02 @your-emo-nightmare @vala-dreams @scarlett-green-rose @t1dwarrior-of-earth @charlie-the-frogie @akikoyuii @mysticalcomputerdetective @roseuniverse999 @im-totally-not-an-alien @thefearfullone @weird-droplet-309 @jaytriesstuff @raventao @jacquelynwinchester @dragongoblet @tlise21 @longlivethefallen @the-archer-goddess @temple-of-jalebi @adepresseddwightsblogofjunk @plainly-colorful @the-legal-shipper @49saltpeppershakers @igotafewbadideas @tumbling-darkling @sparklygardenbouquet @sarcastic-yami @blueneko9314 @starscreamlover @liedboutmurder @do3y @roze-realm @some-mildly-happy-human @yinari-uchiha @azuera @chaoticmistake @altairsarts @kawaiikenna @heartsong18 @thetoyboxs @tricksovertreats @mnemovoid @lim4b3ans @horribly-lost-and-gay @keimiwolf @dryeraseslime @joey394 

[alaffy]

Bridgerton, Ep. 3x01 – Out of the Shadows (Spoilers)

I started watching this episode a couple of weeks ago and quickly realized I needed to rewatch the first two seasons as I clearly wasn’t remembering everything that happened.  Also, forgive me, this recap will be jumping all over the place as I will be kind of focusing on each character and not so much story order.

To get a few storylines quickly out of the way.  It seems as though Will’s life is about to get more interesting as his eldest son has now been named the Earl of Kent.  I can’t say much more about this as there were only two scenes that focused on this moment.

The Queen is clearly bored.  Some think it’s because she is unsure after that disaster with Anthony and Edwina, others think she doesn’t like this years choice of candidates for “The Diamond.”  Honestly, it seems like she was just waiting for Whistledown to come out and play.

Lady Featherington has the Ton convinced that Cousin Jack signed over the estate to whichever daughter first has a male heir and that Lady Featherington suddenly got all this money from a dead relative.  Well, she’s almost got everyone convinced.  It seems that The Crown, or the person acting for the Crown, is a little suspicious of that document giving the estate to the daughters.  If one of them doesn’t have a son soon, and the document is found to be a forge, then they could loose everything.  Also, her second daughter got married.  Thankfully we were not blessed to see that courtship.

Last year, Kate and Anthony had the enemies to lovers storyline.  This year, their storyline seems to be HORNY.  Well, sort of.  Basically, they have just come back from their honeymoon and find that the estate is being run well by Benedict and Violet.  So, they decided that, for once, they are going to live for themselves.  They are going to extend their honeymoon and try to start their own family.  And it makes sense.  Several of the conversations last season revolved around family telling them to live for themselves.  And if everything is being handled, this is the right time to do it.  It also means the writers have a way to write them out of a portion of the season; letting them focus on other characters.

Like Francesca.  Here’s the reality of the situation.  As much as people enjoy Bridgerton, it is doubtful that it will get eight seasons.  The three elder, unmarried Bridgertons will each get their own season.  But the youngest three?  Probably not.  At the very least, it doesn’t make sense to have one for Francesca.  For various reasons, the character has barely been in the series.  We know more about the two youngest Bridgertons than we do her.  So, it does kind of make sense that they are making her a secondary plot.  Now, that doesn’t mean that they are trying to quickly get through her story.  It also wouldn’t surprise me if her story starts this season, but ends sometime in the middle of next season.  But I don’t think they’re intending to make her the main character of a season. 

As for Francesca, she’s a very practical person who’s more interested in music than she is with the social scene.  I mean, she will play her part and she is looking for a husband; but it is clear that her passions lie elsewhere at this point.

Eliose, after last years scandal, has decided to not be herself.  She’s decided to throw herself into the whole “What ladies should be” idea, but it’s clear she’s not cut out for it.  She can dress the part, but truly taking an interest….The one thing she has, though, is a new friendship in Cressida.  And they’re good for one another.  One thing I noticed, when doing my rewatch of the first two seasons, is that the writers do write Penelope and Eloise as two friends drifting apart.  Of course, what ended their friendship was Eloise discovering Penelope was Whistledown; but it is very clear that their interests were shifting.  And also, while you have Penelope keeping one hell of a secret from Eloise, you also have the fact that there are several times that Eloise is clearly not hearing a word Penelope is saying.

But with Eloise and Cressida, they’re listening to one another.  Cressida is good for Eloise as she is helping Eloise find her way in society.  Eloise is good for Cressida as she’ll easily call out Cressida when she goes too far. 

Another possible friendship in the works is Penelope and Francesca.  At least, they seem to have similar temperaments.

That being said, while Eloise doesn’t really want to interact with Penelope right now, it’s clear that she still cares for her.  Which is probably why she hasn’t revealed her secret.

But let us get to the big love affair this season:  Colin and Penelope.  The show starts with the two big reveals.  First, we have the new Francesca, about to be presented to the Queen.  As the family rushes to get into their carriages, they see a group of women fawning over a man.  The women part ways and we see…Chris Pine?  Seriously, I expected the actor to get his own glow up, but maybe they went a bit too far.  Yes, Colin is back from traveling again and he’s, uh, the best way I can describe it is that he’s play-acting flirting.  The women are falling for it, but it is so disingenuous.  The only women he seems like he can truly talk to are the ones in his family and Penelope.

Penelope, meanwhile, is sick of everyone’s shit.  Well, not so much at Eloise, until Cressida purposely rips Penelope’s dress, then she seems pretty annoyed at Eloise as well.  Anyway, Penelope has decided that she can no longer live with her family and so she must find a husband this season.  Time for glow up number two.  The problem is, Penelope…not so good at conversing with strangers.  Well, except for a new character, Lord Debling. 

She also has no time for Colin as he cut her to the quick last season (unbeknownst to him).  Colin is very confused as he sees her as a dear friend.  Of course, all is revealed to him at the first ball, as Penelope tries to leave after having a humiliating night.  Afterwards, Penelope goes home and writes some biting things about the Queen and Colin (girl, you have got to learn to let your emotions settle before writing).

The next day, Colin comes to apologize to Penelope for being…an asshole, really.  He also has a grand idea, if Penelope has her heart set on getting married this season he will help her.  After all, he picked up on how to fake charm in his travels and he can teach her to do the same.  Penelope is happy…and then remembers that she just published as Whistledown.

Colin catches Eloise reading the latest issue of Whistledown.  Eloise does not want to show him the pamphlet as is speaks of him.  Specifically, how he’s come back with a whole different persona; but is he just a fake?  Colin actually doesn’t give a damn what Whistledown wrote about him; but he can’t forgive her for what she’s done to Eloise and Lady Crane.  Eloise asks if he might have an idea of who Whistledown is.  He does not.  However, he vows that, if he ever finds out, he will ruin their life instead.     

[skwtches]

30, 17, and 25 for Maverick; 10, 7, and 2 for Nancy!

WOOOO YESS

Starting off with the worst man you've ever met Maverick here:

30. Do they smell like anything notable?

For him, I'd figure he'd smell a bit like the cigarettes/cigars he's typically seen smoking; musty with a hint of cedar. Although, I imagine him using some kind of cologne semi-regularly, perhaps one that smells of leather? Nothing that smells much like wood, he doesn't like the association most wooden-based scents have with his early life.

17. How did they spend their summers/free time as a child?

I imagine that during vacations within the long, arduous summer months, his parents never thought too much about ensuring he socialized with other kids his age, and so they'd drag him along with them to the lakeside vacation home where his father liked to spend those months away hunting for sport while his mother tried to make the most of her time away from the bustling city and her husband being occupied with matters that didn't concern her for the most part. Maverick would usually just entertain himself along the lakeshore, poking around with a stick at the various flora and fauna—usually skewering whatever he found of the latter when his mother wasn't watching.

Something Maverick also did frequently was bring a mason jar out with him to the lake, scanning around for bugs or any other creepy crawly he could pick up and encase to examine. Sometimes he'd let them go afterwards, other times he'd attempt some pseudo dissection of whatever insect he caught in his little glass prison. In some instances, he'd put two live animals in at the same time to see what would happen. Most of the time, one would end up killing and eating the other, yet it fascinated him all the same. When he wasn't terrorizing whatever small critters he stumbled upon, he'd reside to reading on his own, feeding into his ever-growing love for literature that would continue to follow into adulthood.

25. How good/bad is their hearing? What about their eyesight?

His hearing is generally okay, though probably has deteriorated a bit with age. Same deal with eyesight, and I imagine he employs the use of reading glasses from time to time.

AND NOW Nancy, everyone's fav sad girl muppet moth xoxo

10. If they wear jewelry, what kind? Do they prefer silver or gold? Do they have a favorite gem?

Nancy isn't the type to accessorize a bunch, though I'd like to think she'll sometimes wear jewelry whenever she's gifted with any. For instance, during college, Felicity gave her a gold necklace for her birthday that had a lil ruby pendant—Nancy's birthstone. In turn, Nancy ended up wearing it almost everyday up until around the time she and Felicity started to gradually drift apart and Nancy's initial insecurities surrounding her own future and success in comparison to her friend's shifted towards envy.

7. Favorite Animal? Why?

Had the sudden thought of Nancy really, really liking opossums for whatever reason and I just think that's very characteristic of her to love what would be considered an unorthodox animal to find cute by most. Like when she was really little, she’d look around her father’s old shed, and once came across this full grown opossum that she then proceeded to take and bring inside, much to Elena’s eventual horror.

Little Nancy when her mother comes home and, completely astonished, asks her why on God’s EARTH she thought to bring in a possibly rabies-infested animal as the latter stumbles upon her running a bath for it:

2. What sort of music would they like? Have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? Do they have a favorite song?

In canon, Nancy would have a preference for softer, orchestral music—a record she can put on while she's on her own, either writing or even during a lowkey read if she's feeling particularly antsy. I can see her really liking music by Leo Reisman and his orchestra, particularly stuff ranging from the late 1920s to the early 40s. In terms of singers, she'd probably be a fan of Elizabeth Welch, especially for her song "The Girl I Knew" (1935).

If this were the 21st century, Nancy would 1000% be a Mitski and even Crane Wives fan for Reasons.

[obfontri]

the evolution of kraglin’s nicknames for peter.

for a while he was just the terran brat. in the beginning, kraglin didn’t bother to remember the names of ego’s children. part of it was because he was still a kid himself when they started transporting and in those days, he was more focused on surviving the eclector than making friends with the cargo. however, he also knew they were never supposed to be a permanent fixture. maybe he knew better than to get attached... or maybe he was envious of the opulent life he thought they would have once handed over to a doting father. whatever the reason, that kind of fantasy abruptly stopped once they found out the truth about the monster they’d been serving.

when it was decided they weren’t handing the kid over, it became various teasing monikers of stowaway, orloni / rat, [ insert various monster names here ] bait, etcetera, though more often than not, it was simply little quill. he got away with that for a good few months until the kid finally grew a backbone and fought him over it. despite the bloody noses, the crooked bite marks, and a month of latrine duty, it at least earned the kid some respect in the end. it was easier calling him by name after that, which eventually turned into pete for the majority of their childhood.

the shift back to peter was gradual but unavoidable as they both became young adults and started drifting apart, kraglin focusing on becoming the first mate yondu needed while peter seemed to always have one foot out the door. he’s mononymously referred to as quill once kraglin realizes that yondu still favors the terran even when it becomes apparent that quill will never prioritize the ravagers as kraglin believes he should. this is when the largely one sided animosity krag feels towards peter has reached its peak.

the first time he calls him pete in over a decade is at yondu’s funeral, when kraglin reverts to that childhood bond as the last remaining family tie he has. it’s a lifeline and an apology. it takes a little while to sort through his complicated emotions regarding the other and fully repair the bond they once had, but once they do, capt’n becomes interchangeable with pete and kraglin will continue to use both for as long as pete’ll let him, even long after he returns to earth.

[animegirlspongebob]

Hey Viper!!! I’d love to here about ur OC’s

oh wow oh wow thank you so much!!!!! okay there’s like a lot so sorry if this is long and incoherent im extremely excited about them all.

so!!! since they’re from slivering ghost town, i have to introduce some ocs that aren’t new, but i haven’t talked about them yet. also be aware that slivering ghost town takes place 16 years into the future!! (also some characters i mention while explaining are my friend’s ocs)

first up, there’s Vanilla! Vanilla’s biological parents are Michellis and Salem, although it’s widely believed that she was born to Michellis and Button. however, Michellis and Button died not long after Vanilla was born. so since then, she’s been raised by Button’s son Snake, and his boyfriend Sparkle! Vanilla’s nice, but a bit too nice, often prioritising others happiness over their own. they are 16 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

then there’s Lottie! Lottie’s biological parents are Tessa and Anthony, but Tessa died also not long after her birth, and Anthony died when she was five, so she was also adopted by Snake and Sparkle! Lottie is very low energy, and struggles expressing herself properly. she takes it upon herself to look after the entirety of her friend group. she’s 16 in SGT, and can see some ghosts!

then there’s Doubloon! Doubloon is Sal and Goldie’s child, which makes her Otto’s grandchild! she, like her father, is a rowdy little pirate! unlike her father she can at least not throw chairs at people. she knows very well how to use a sword, though! she’s 13 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

then there’s Chester! Chester is Candie and Onion’s child, making him Snake and Hudson’s younger brother! (he also has an older sister, but you’ll see her later on this list). Chester’s a sweet little man, but he’s frightened rather easily. he enjoys baking quite a bit! he’s 11 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

and finally (kinda…there’s another kid whos one of the main ones, but she’s my friend’s oc, so i can’t go into detail on her) Medic! Medic is Doc’s younger child, and she’s nonverbal! she’s often bullied by her older sister, Bandaid, for various reasons. she’s pretty shy, but likes to help people as much as she can. she’s 11 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

NOW, onto the actual new ones you asked about!

first up, there’s Apple!! Apple is Dahlia and Cheri’s kid! unlike the other parents on this list, Dahlia and Cheri are not in any kind of relationship! they were just uh…..getting a bit silly day if you catch my drift!! luckily for Apple there’s no tension between them and they get along fine. Apple however, wants to be more then just “the kid of that weird alcoholic and that weird mortician”. they aren’t the fondest of either of their mothers…..but they’re 13 in SGT, and can see some ghosts!

next there’s Charlotte!!!! Charlotte is Chester’s older sister i mentioned earlier, making Snake and Hudson her older brothers too!! Charlotte is one of the most rational of the group, and tries to keep them out of trouble. keyword: TRIES. but she’s a very lovely girl!! she’s 14 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!!!

then there’s Gracelyn! Gracelyn is Guts’ younger sister, and while she keeps a calm and stoic exterior, she’s extremely anxious. just like her older sibling, she unfortunately has, for lack of a better term, mommy issues. she’s 16 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

and finally, one of my FAVOURITES, Sydney-Rose!!! Sydney-Rose is Lucy and Tobias’ child, but unfortunately for little Sydney, her dad dies when she is very young….possibly right in front of her. this is probably why she’s so angsty today, remaining quite a mystery to the rest of the kids. despite this, they treat her as apart of the group, which is nice of them. most people are still quite weary of her, due to her odd behaviour, “scary” appearance, and the fact that both of her parents are known serial killers. she’s 15 in SGT, and can most ghosts.

technically there’s more! but those are my friends ocs, so i can’t go into detail about them! im sure you’ll meet them all eventually, though!

[vlovers19]

“I like him as a person”… I wonder if “as a person” was put here by the editor just like RM is always adding something about “what a good friend” lmao

Idk it seems to me at least Jimin was in love or something. The dumpling incident and the way he was with Tae at that time and later… All shy, then tender, then strained a bit… ya can’t imitate that. The only alternative in my mind is that they were told to “play soulmates” narrative by company, which is honestly… a bullshit? They said no to some songs, so they would say so to something like that.

The question is was the feeling reciprocated? Because I don’t get their dynamics now at all: at times I think they look like soft type of brothers with all these stories about fights and jokes (and scenes like when they imitated a kiss while rehearsal of simple and then grimaced and smiled — that’s smth like “haha sooo funny we’d never really kiss hahaha” to me) and rumors about Tae (hard to not fall for that shit), and at times when something extremely soft happens I feel…gaslighted lmao because jeez I wouldn’t do many of the things they’ve done in 2016-2022 to my siblings, because it feels a bit cringe. There are times of this weird tension idk.

What a weirdly beautiful duo. Sry, just a pure reflection here, because I miss vmin blogs soooo much. Borahae!

Let's be honest. Some of the things in the book are changed to suit the readers. There are various people who will read the book so they would do what they can to satisfy every audiences curiosity but at the same time try to tone things down but just enough to keep you wanting more. It's what they have been doing for so long.

But I want to ask? Why do you feel like this? People have what they call a sixth sense but many choose to ignore it. A lot of people feel something's off with Jimin and Taehyung out of everyone else in the group. This weird dynamics you all are just noticing now because they are in their solo era is something I had noticed a long time ago even while they were in the group but unlike a lot of people, I don't ignore my sixth sense.

Now, we haven't seen the members gathered in one place for a long time but no one questions Jimin and Taehyung's bond with other members. Yet, question their bond with each other even when they see them being close. Even when they call each other soulmates? Even when they try to disprove the rumors around them in their own way. It's not like a full on hate against them. It's more like this boundary most of the fandom has created for them. Almost like a silent warning; we know you are soulmates and all but don't go past that. We don't want to know.

So the sixth sense about whatever might be going on about them is shut off. Most people will rather believe that they are enemies than to reason with that thought nagging at the back of their minds that something is off or weird about them.

Jimin and Taehyung both value friendships. Taehyung is known for even keeping contact with his high school friends. Jimin is more private with his friends but we all know the kind of soul he is. How selfless he is for the people he cares about. Unless a deep betrayal occurred between the two of them. Something neither can forgive each other for then such a thing can happen. Even drifting apart shouldn't be considered because Taehyung wouldn't let that happen. Looking at how close he is with Jungkook who people thought he had drifted apart from should be proof to you. Taehyung loves to mantain relationships and trust me the last person he would want to loose connection with is his fellow 95 liner from Bts who he debuted with, lived with, grew up with, had lots of memories with both the good and bad ones. He hasn't drifted apart from others. Out of everyone in his life, it's Jimin he would rather cut off ties with. Jimin!

Jimin likewise who mantains long term friendships with those close to him like Soonyoung, Taemin amongst others. Out of everyone would choose to be distant from Taehyung while still mantaining friendships with others in the group.

Why are things so different with them? What is up with the two of them? Did they date and break up? Did one of them steal the others beloved? What's with all the secrecy?

But it's none of those things because we can still see even though many choose to ignore it that they have a good rapport with each other but they won't behave like the usual friendships or the usual ship just to satisfy our cravings. They won't do vlives or post their personal pictures for our enjoyment even though they know we desperately want that. They won't let us into that world. They will keep that to themselves no matter what people say about them. Especially now when they will be entering the military, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't want the attention on them.

People shouldn't bother about what they will be doing now. They should rather be interested in what happens after their military service because that to me is when the real fun begins. We will really know what's going on. For now, believe in them. Even though people don't want to see them as anything other than the friends they are but at least we should acknowledge the bond they subtly try to show and stop belittling every thing they do because they aren't showing off like typical friends do. I have said enough. Have a great day everyone and let's try to focus on our own lives as well.