#Probably Shouldn't Be Allowed To Queue . . .

[kimsuyeon]

well i can't say i'm surprised but i do feel sick!

[neuvilletteswife4ever]

So I have sent a request in the queue right now, but I have another (possibly good) idea:

Gender neutral reader, but they're sadistic and able to escape and elude the Harbingers for prolonged periods

They leave little notes behind that mock them and the Tsaritsa, all the while leaking their secrets; they effectively toy with Harbingers and constantly remind them of their weaknesses and soft spots (i.e. Childe and his family, Arlecchino and the House of the Hearth, etc.)

Of course, they'll get caught eventually (and probably receive the ass-beating of a lifetime), but they never learn and soon they'll subsequently escape again

Eventually the Harbingers seemingly finally have enough and attempt to keep the reader in their grasp forever...

...only to find them dead via head smashing by some sort of heavy object

WOAHH I LOVE THIS WTF???

Warnings: Escaping, sadistic, humiliation, kidnapping.

YANDERE FATUI HARBINGERS X READER

It had been a week since you had escaped and the Fatui Harbingers were already going insane. How could YOU escape from them? Your entire purpose is meant to be with them and obey!

After having all of your loved ones killed, tortured, kidnapped you couldn't be with them anymore.

SOMEHOW you found a key to unlock the chain on your ankle, Arlecchino had forgotten it due to an emergency at the house of the hearth.

It was probably the biggest news on Teyvat that you had escaped. Your "bounty" (I think that's what it's called) was 10 million mora.

Gosh...and obviously, you couldn't go outside because of the people looking for you. Who wouldn't want to be get such a large amount of mora AND be noticed by the Fatui Harbingers? It's a one in a life time opportunity!

However, after being tortured for so long, it seemed like you were a new person. A complete new person from when they had kidnapped you. You became sadistic, you had a weird kind of PLEASURE in seeing others in pain, distress, humiliation. While you did think it was weird at first, you kept seeing Dottore (when you were still kidnapped and in their grasp, the Fatui Harbingers would always take you with them because you weren't allowed to be alone) in the lab TORTURING and HUMILIATING his test subjects. So, you learned that it wasn't THAT weird. We all have our weird fetishes, RIGHT?

To make the Fatui Harbingers more in distress, to torture them, you decided to MOCK them and humiliate them even more.

When you were with the Fatui Harbingers, Pantalone gave you his money (because he's rich) to spend. He wanted to spend money on his darling, to spoil them, in an attempt to gain their trust. That NEVER worked.

So you had leftover mora to buy food, clothes in an attempt to disguise yourself, and lastly, hire a person who can deliver letters for you.

You were staying in an old cabin in the snowy woods of Shneznaya.

The first letter sent was for the house of the hearth. Reminding them how EVIL their "Father" was, and that they shouldn't trust her.

The second letter was for Tartaglia's siblings, Tuecer, Tonia and Anthon. Telling them how "Evil" Ajax was, their brother, rather known as Tartaglia, the Eleventh Ranked Fatui Harbinger.

The third letter was for Scaramouche, mocking him of how utterly pathetic he was. Telling him that it was so embarassing to hear that the Electro Archon, his own mother abandoned him. Absolutely humiliating the shit out of him.

More and more letters came, you knew how stressed and humiliated they were. How hurt they were.

Arlecchino found out about the letter that you sent and she was FURIOUS. How could you possibly try and get the House Of The Hearth to go against her? Their own Father!

As for Tartaglia, he was not pleased to hear about this letter.

You found a weird sense of joy in their humiliation, pain and hurting their feelings.

But little did you know that all the pain would come back to YOU...

(ill continue this soon)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: It's Friday. I'll probably try to chill. Work is wild yall.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

There's a silence, weighed between three; Thor, Jane, and yourself. You feel is crushing you, resting across your chest, constricting your throat. You put your gloved fingertips on the table and rise.

"Pawdon," you cringe at your own voice, "I must see to my mother…"

Thor rises, Jane doesn't bother as she pats her stomach. You leave without further pretense. Your skirts ruffle around your slippers as you flee without true purpose.

It's an excuse. Your mother wouldn't want to see you, to be reminded of the burden she's left with. Your betrothed and his parents can hardly think better of the circumstance. Yet you loathe to think how it should be if this contract is declared null.

You enter the corridor and turn aimless towards the center of the house. Apart from the few rooms you've been shown into, you haven't much sense for the layout of the house. Loki never troubled to guide you and your mother kept herself cloistered up in her grief.

You shuffle forward. Perhaps a breath of fresh air or if you go so far as your chambers, you might hide in there. You proceed through to the drawing room and give pause. Low timbres in mid-hush, from behind a door not quite shut.

Your name escape the space between frame and clasp. You go no further, instead tiptoeing to hide behind a broad bookshelf, just between the hidden office and the entrance. You tamp down your breaths and listen, knowing you shouldn't, knowing you can only regret to hear the unbridled truth.

"...she can hardly speak a word…"

"Perhaps it is that you don't allow her too. You've always been one to do overly much speaking," Odin retorts, "Loki, have you considered her demureness may be a blessing? That the sort you are would do better with one who listens before they talk, eh? You could learn–"

"Father, she is not what I was promised."

"She holds the same bearing and she is not hideous. She's rather becoming, I think–"

"Oh yes, then why don't you have her? Have you tired of the maid already?"

"Careful, boy," Odin growls, "do not be so petulant. If you could restrain yourself you might realise what you've been given."

"A dumb mute–"

There's a strike of flesh on flesh. A grunt and a snarl, each from a different throat.

"She is to be your wife. Do not sow bitterness in the soil. You should pity that she must put up with an ingrate such as yourself. You are getting exactly as I promised, you will have your vineyard in Kyri, you will have an estate in tears when her father is regrettably gone… what else can I give you? Shall I cut my heart out?"

"If I refuse, I have Jade Park. It is mine by right."

"You haven't any right if you do not provide an heir to it," Odin rebuffs.

"She is not the only duke's daughter–"

"Of a dozen, I'm sure, but cruel as it is to say, they aren't all in queue for a second born."

"You needn't remind me. Thor has his pick, he may do as he pleases, and I get scraps!" Loki blusters, "fine, father, if only to rid myself of your mighty hand. I will marry and you will be gone from my estate. By my right!"

You press yourself to the wall and clamp your lips shut as Loki storms out. He has his hand on his cheek for a moment before tearing his fingers away. He does not look back as he crosses the chamber, stomping through the next doorway just as he sends a standing vase crashing to the floor with an angry swipe.

You stay stuck to the wall as you hear softer steps. It's too late to flee but the Grand Duke calls you out before you can think of it. Odin says your name just as he peeks around the bookcase.

"Apologies you had to witness my son's tantrum. At his age, you'd think he'd be past all that," he slants his lips tritely.

"Pawdon, yaw gwace, I didn't mean to intwude–"

"It mightn't have been your mission but along the way you did make the choice. I don't fault you that, curiosity is dangerous," he shakes his head, "I am ashamed, lady, to think my son is so stubborn and uncouth. It isn't how I've brought him up."

"It's… it's fine, yaw gwace, I know I am not… expected."

"Eh, none of us are, are we?" He tugs on his cravat with irritation, "what say you? Shall I show you the splendors of Jade Park as my sons steeps in his childishness?"

"Yaw gwace?"

"I presume you've not been given the proper look around. I admit my son is rightly jilted by me. I was rather reluctant to hand this over. It has ever been my most treasured property but even second sons need some value… and second daughters…" he offers his arm as he turns, "besides, it's been some years since a pretty young lady adorned my arm."

You look at his sleeve then his flinty hair. He does not censor himself but his truth is not mean. It is only just that. It is what is. You tuck your hand into the crook of his elbow and thank him softly.

"I should thank you, lady," he pats your hand, "I can appreciate someone who reveres silence."

He sets off, tugging you into step. You keep pace, comforted and for the first, at ease in this strange place. This place you must call home.

"We'll save the gardens, I've a little secret for you there."

🔹

“I must return to be sure the banns are read at perish, as they will be here,” your mother points Doreen to her luggage chest with her fan, giving a silent order. “Oh, to think, I must attend my daughter’s grave in the same week I sit to hear the other engaged.”

You’re silent, patient. You know it’s better to let your mother ramble than to interrupt. If any one cared to hear it, you might admit you’re not dismayed to see her leave.

“Be sure you behave. Your father and I made an effort to keep you aware of etiquette. Do mind your manners,” she chides.

“Yes, motha.”

“Oh, and…” she gives you a tortured look, “try to choose your words carefully.”

You nod. You know her meaning clearly. Avoid those syllables that underline your detriment.

“Good, good. Your father is devastated about your sister, you see? I must away.”

“I understand.”

“It isn’t so difficult to be a wife,” she comes close and looks you in your face, “it is part of being a woman. Give him an heir, or two, and you’ll have the rest of your life to be happy. Duty first.”

She touches your arm, squeezing it before she spins to remind Doreen not to forget her chain of pearls left on the vanity. You tuck your chin down and bite your lip.

Duty. What if your husband doesn’t do his? What if he cannot? If he is so repulsed by you, you might not even have the chance to provide him an heir.

🔹

As your mother departs, the Grand Duke and Duchess remain. The first son and Lady Jane take their leave as well, insisting on having the expectant wife home in case of a sudden labour. Even with a few additional guests, the house feels empty. You have only your novels and Doreen, and she is reticent company, a hard line drawn between you by status.

You tire of the pages. You’ve read them a dozen times at least. All of your books are well worn and near memorised. It’s easier to live in your head where you do not sound like a fool.

You approach the door and ponder without. You have a yearning to explore but a fear of what lays outside. You’ve never been much for social graces; you have neither tact nor eloquence. You tend to shy away and forget your posture.

You clutch the handle, battling your fear. You pull the door open, assured by the silence of the corridor, and emerge. You look right, then left, and turn to the former. You wander down to the door you recalled from your stroll with Odin.

The dark oak with the long vertical handles that spiraled at the top. You ease one open, edging quietly into the darkness within. You should’ve brought a candlestick but the windows allow enough light to limn the shelves and upholstered chairs around a single low table. 

You wade through the dull hue and stop before a shelf nearest the window, shifting a book to read the spine. Swift. You’ve not read anything by that author. You slide it loose and flip back the cover and flutter past the front page; A Tale of a Tub imprinted into the sheet.

You squint as you turn to the first page of cramped font. You bend your neck and turn towards a light, not realising the glow moves towards you, only focus on the unraveling of letters before you. A shadow nears until you are drawn up by its umbrous presence.

“Oh!” You gasp in surprise.

Loki looks down his nose as he holds a candlestick. You peer past him to the dark rectangle of the doorway that leads to the attached sitting room. You give a sheepish look to the floor as he reaches for the book in your hand. You let him slide it free, his thumb hooked over the pages before he snaps it shut in his hand.

“Satire. A musing of theology and science. Hardly a woman’s novel,” he remands. “My mother may have something to your preference.”

You take a step back and look at the window, the sun yellow and warm through the pane. You bring one hand up your arm to pinch your sleeve nervously. He is cold and you will never be used to it. A whole life to be spent in the tempest of his distaste.

“Funny, you should be repulsed by me?” He snorts.

You face him and feel the crease between your brows. He lets his eyes drift to the ceiling and gives a scoff. He spins on his heel and sets the candlestick on a tall table between the shelves.

“Let us not pretend either of us are happy. Even if you say little, it is written across your face. I saw it the moment we met. Then I heard you speak and I knew it was all a great joke on my behalf.”

You frown and squeeze your arm, keeping your arm bent across your front, like a shield, “what did you see… when we met?”

He shoves the book back on the shelf. You watch the fabric of his vest strain between his shoulders, almost admire how he’s folded his sleeves to the elbow, though the tops remain bloused. He tilts his head and strides along the wall of books.

“You act so innocent. I don’t believe it, not like the rest. You sit and pout and mope, expecting everyone to coddle you, to feel bad for you. I do not.”

“I do not act–”

“You lie like any woman does. Let us be clear, my wife will not lie. Not to me.” He turns and crosses his arms, leaning on the bookshelf, hooking one foot over the other. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “You will be quiet unless given leave to speak. I needn’t be further embarrassed. My father and brother have always made certain I am derided, you will not join them.”

“Loki–”

“Lord Laufeyson, husband, nothing else. Not your companion, not some kindred spirit, not anything but a convenience. A duty,” he raises a long finger as he speaks, “once I get a child on you, then we will be very much as we were before. Separate. Can you understand me?”

You bite down as hard as you can, until your jaw hurts. He speaks to you in the same tone your father used when he was agitated. He treats you like a child and yet, as Odin said, he acts like one himself. Spoiled and mean.

“I am not stupid, yaw gwace,” you say.

He narrows his eyes and stands straight, gripping his hips as he glares at you, “we’ve said all we need to say. You may go.”

You don’t move. Not right away. You don’t know why you don’t. Your heart is drumming and your ears are tingling.

“I am dismissing you,” he sneers.

You stare. Still regardless of the sharpness to his lilt.

He pulls his hands off his hips and balls them, posturing as he takes a step forward. You wince as a spasm of anger tics in his cheek.

You let the tension out of your jaw and drop your arm straight. You surrender but you do not hang your head as you turn to leave. You walk stiffly towards the door. As you reach it, he speaks again.

“Do not come in here again,” he bids.

You do not answer. You don’t argue. You don’t look back. You just go.

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 22 - Flyaway

prev - chapter 1

Jules held the flesh on her thigh in a tight squeeze with one hand, the other in her mouth as she bit down. The first shot of the day was always the worst.

"Y'know..." The girl's eyelashes looked especially long as she kept her gaze down at the needle, "Isn't one a day the regular, recommended dosage? You have what, three? I mean... Is that really necessary?"

She was used to it by now. Size-shifting wasn't something Jules particularly ever wanted to associate herself with. It was a part of her that she hated more than anything. To be seen as a spectacle on one end of the spectrum, to be perceived from every angle, or to be defenceless and weak on the other end, invisible to anyone who didn't care to take extra notice. A minority within a minority, with the ability to shift to both. The best of all three worlds, and Jules couldn't bear it.

She hummed as she wiped her saliva off on one of the towels, "I'm not a regular person. But, I can't let anyone see me that way. You're.. Lucky enough you even know. Little shit."

The shifter hopped down from the bathroom counter, pulling her tights back up just to bounce around the penthouse trying to find her other shoe- not before running her hands through the equally as long brown hair of the girl first, of course. She leant against the frame of the bathroom door as she watched Jules stumble around for a moment, the shifter mumbling under her breath all the while.

"Julie.." She sighed, "You should go easier on yourself. It's not healthy to hold back like this. I mean.. You know.. You see-"

"Yeah, I see Hosah. You know half the time he's not even stuck, he just does it on purpose for attention. That's all it is with him, he needs something, anything to make people feel bad for him. I'm not like that. Elaine, I'm not like that."

"I wasn't gonna say that." Elaine spoke, running her own hands through her hair this time.

The shifter paused. She tilted her head, thought for a moment, and laughed, "You're right. It's just... The other night, I feel like.."

"You were too mean? Again?"

"I wasn't mean enough. God. You don't get it, I can't deal with him. Just.. Pathetic. Absolutely. He's not even fucking qualified. He's not! Not a single college credit." She stopped for breath, scoffing at her own train of thought as she shook her head, "I... It's not like I'm gonna let him go though. It sucks. I can't stand him. But I can't do it."

Elaine turned her back to the shifter, busying herself with her toothbrush and toothpaste, her voice echoing across the tiles of the bathroom, "And you can't stop talking about him either. If you hate him, why are you so attached to him? I don't get it."

"Cmon, El, you know he's like my brother. Just..." And just as quick as she took to attacking him, she came to his defence.

"No 'just'. You're both as bad as each other. It's why you deserve each other. The perfect pair."

Jules scoffed, pulling on her other shoe as she headed towards the door, "God, please. We're nothing alike. I mean, I have self respect, that's something."

"Sure you do." Elaine listened for the unlocking of the front door, and that same 'Goodbye, I love you' that was said every morning, on queue. "Bring back something for dinner on your way home."

"Yeah, yeah." The shifter rolled her eyes, the smile on her face dropping as soon as she shut the door behind her.

She huffed. The bicker her and Hosah had a week or two back still played on her mind. The things she should've said, and even the things she shouldn't have. Bringing up Chris was a low blow, but bringing up all the clubs they weren't allowed to get into however, was quite the proportional one. Despite how badly she wanted to humiliate Hosah, she knew he and Teddy were different. She knew this wasn't a casual fling that'd pass by with the seasons, with no hard feelings regarding to the fact she was probably the reason things didn't work out. He'd never forgive her if she fucked with their.. whatever it was they had going on.

She still stood by what she said. They'd gone through most of the shit together, and look at her. She wasn't in therapy, she wasn't being stalked and preyed upon, despite that probably being entirely out of his control, and she certainly wasn't letting it all get to her. He only suffered for pity, she suffered to become stronger. That was the difference between the two of them. Maybe to anyone else, he had the right to be a miserable shit, but to her, well, he wasn't any more worth than what came of his uncle. A stain in the carpet, even less than that.

He was infuriating. All Jules wanted was to send him back to butt-fuck nowhere Colorado and let him rot under the care of some poorly paid care workers for the rest of his life. Have someone with nothing else better to do sit around and talk to him like a pet, since that was probably all Edward was in it for. That was what pissed her off the most. How he didn't hate the way they all treat him. He was barely human in their eyes, and how he didn't see it, she'd never know. He needed Jules, and hell, Jules even needed him sometimes too. He's naïve, self destructive, and honestly, he was incapable. But she understood. She knew exactly what to do, what would help him, but he was too blind even to see that. Jules gritted her teeth as she stumbled her way out of the elevator door, trying to calm herself in order to at least appear somewhat presentable for the meeting ahead of her.

It wasn't often her dad called her about anything at all, and his sudden curiosity regarding the agency, his business, was something that worried her, to her core. It was this type of thing she had nightmares about. That he'd finally have enough of paying for the building, paying the wages, and he'd pull the plug. The agency started because of Jules, to protect her and those alike. There was a type of responsibility, an obligation she had to keeping everything sound and steady. As hard as she tried to come off as uncaring or cold, she couldn't help but care deeply for the cause. She might not be able to embrace her curse, but those with no other choice didn't deserve half the shit they got. Not many other shifters had the privilege of being able to shoot up somatotrophin three times a day, and Jules had to use that to her advantage.

Jules didn't really think back on the reason she even recruited Hosah in the first place all that often. He had such a way with words, no, with other shifters. He could get anything out of them, all he had to do was shrink down to their level, or perch himself in their palm, and it'd come spilling out. She watched it happen before, in the facility, it was why he was a favourite. Not only would he cooperate, being the obedient little shit he was, but he could get others to do it too. It made her sick to watch, but she knew when her father dipped from the agency, that it'd be plentifully convenient.

-~-

This was it, the final straw. The pair had come close to certain danger with how Scotty had convinced them it was absolutely necessary to go back and check Hosah's old apartment, and Teddy wasn't prepared to risk it again. He knew they shouldn't have gotten into the car the moment the engine started, and it was only with a stroke of luck that they were able to weasel out of it.

Hosah wasn't a doll, or a precious piece of glass that risked cracking and shattering if not handled correctly, he knew that. He knew Hosah had done just fine without him before, and he'd probably do just fine without him if he were to disappear into thin air overnight, but the obligation Teddy felt to protecting the shifter was strong, the feeling overpowering all logic his brain could muster up.

He didn't really think before he spoke all that often, not nowadays, not around Hosah, at least.

"I love you." Teddy didn't even realise what he'd said until he'd heard it himself, coming out of his own mouth. "I just... thought you'd like to know, since things have been weird lately."

Teddy spent the majority of his childhood in isolation. There wasn't much of anything to do once classes were over, and although he was constantly surrounded by people, none of them really wanted to talk to him. He didn't know what exactly he'd done wrong, and it ate him alive. Sometimes he'd stare at his own reflection and wait for the swarm of cicadas or the three aliens stacked upon eachother to come crawling out from under his skin, but they never did. That was what bothered him so badly, this was him. There was no other land he could return to where there'd be others of his kind, waiting with open arms, the truth was, Teddy was a human, whether he liked it or not.

Socialising with his peers felt a lot like the choir practices the church would make everyone participate in twice a week, except, Teddy was always just slightly out of tune. He knew it, everyone else knew it, and despite how much he turned the pegs of the cello he'd practice playing until his fingers bled, it'd always sound ever so slightly off. Instead of making it obvious, Teddy found it'd be easier to keep his head down, to not draw attention to himself, and that became an excruciatingly difficult task by the time he hit puberty and grew a foot taller.

The rules that came along with being a human being weren't something Teddy completely understood, even now at twenty six years old, but he knew even less when he was half his age. Teddy questioned the ideas and stories presented to him as fact, especially in school, especially when it came to the teachings of the bible. He didn't get it. He didn't get why his peers would give him dirty looks when he walked past them in the hallway, he didn't get why God would make him in such way that made him unloveable, unable to be saved, stuck in the stagnancy of his own desires, afraid that even acknowledging such things would make them too loud, too obvious, that God, or worse, his peers would know.

It took Teddy an embarrassingly long time to accept the fact he was gay. It took him even longer to pull his head out of the sand and act upon his darkest, best kept secret that was his sexuality. For a while he just thought he didn't have the ability to love someone, not like that. He loved many things with the whole of his heart, he loved feeling the sun on his face, even when it'd get in his eyes and give him a headache from the squinting, he loved cold breezes in the early winter that'd nip at the tips of his nose and ears, he loved fresh pastries in the morning on his way to work, and he loved making small talk with the cashiers even more than that, especially when he could tell with their shifting expressions that he'd brightened their day, even just slightly.

Hosah was the first person he could say with confidence that he was in-love with. He loved the idea of certain people, the prospect of them twisting and converting into the idealised versions of themselves that Teddy had invented and interacted with in depth in his head, but Hosah was different. He didn't find himself wishing certain behaviours or traits upon him, even the parts of the shifter that weren't at all desirable or even likeable, they weren't fixed in the mental image Teddy created of him. Maybe it was because Hosah was so unapologetic about who he was. He wished he could be like that. That Hosah cried in front of him, that Hosah lounged in his palm like there was nothing else in the world but the two of them, that Hosah leant into the brushing of the same hand through his hair. Teddy wished he could've done all those things at once. He wished he could've lifted the shifter up towards the light and said, is this such a sin? If God saw them both, if God saw the gentle cradling of his own creations, if he saw the way Hosah's face flushed, one cheek redder than the other depending on which side he'd slept on, when he'd first awake in the morning by Teddy's side, the love he feels being so powerful that it seeped from his heart and out of his pores, would he change his mind, and allow it just this once? Teddy wasn't sure if he hoped so or not, as an eternity in hell would be more than worth the human lifetime of love and affection he relished in.

What he wished most of all, was that he could tell himself not to care. Not to look at his peers as they snickered and glanced at him for questioning what was put in front of him as fact, to continue playing even if the tune wasn't quite right, and to press his hands against his cheeks as he stared himself down, telling the cicadas- or the aliens, that he knew they were there, and that he loved them dearly.

"I love you dearly." He added, ".. You don't have to say it back. I just.. It's true."

Hosah sat and thought for a moment, adjusting his seat on the desk beneath him. It killed Teddy to know that he'd never be able to look inside of the shifters brain and see what he was thinking. He'd even settle just for a few seconds of watching the cogs turn beneath the flesh of his forehead.

"I never understood that sentiment before, actually." The shifter spoke, nonchalant as ever, "If you love someone, you tell them, unapologetically. And saying it back isn't so hard either. I don't understand why saying I love you isn't something we've normalised already. I mean, no one dislikes being told they're loved, so, I don't get it."

It seemed like he was going on a rant to avoid saying it back after all. Teddy smiled, his crooked tooth being as charming as ever with how it hung over his lip, just slightly. He really hoped Hosah wouldn't hate him for what he was going to do.

"You know.. I think I'm gonna get lunch with Jeanne today, or, I'll try." Without stopping to hear the slew of words coming out of Hosah's mouth in protest, Teddy got up from his chair, "Uh- tell Thierri I'm sorry I couldn't make it later, 'kay?"

There were no 'if', 'buts' or 'maybes' about it, Teddy was going to get Hosah, and hopefully himself, off of the case. He had no idea why Jules allowed the two to work so closely to such a criminal in the first place, especially when the shifter was being put into such dangerous positions, even going as far as to needing to leave his apartment to avoid an actual serial killer from invading his home, and or killing him. It was cartoonish how messed up the situation sounded, especially when put so bluntly in his head.

Finding Jeanne wasn't too much of a challenge. Maybe if he were in a crowd, sure, but around the office, he was quite hard to miss with his short stature and general boy-ish features, despite the fact he was the eldest amongst the rag-tag team.

Although Teddy could clearly see the experienced detective in his direct line of sight, something kept him from approaching the man. He usually didn't look back at his past and cringe, but god, the embarrassment he felt remembering their previous interactions turned his stomach into knots. He took a moment to clear his throat, swallowing to try get rid of the dry sensation in his mouth, and he bit the bullet.

"Jeanne." Teddy's voice faltered as he called out.

He wondered what it was about the detective that made him as intimidating as he was. Jeanne looked over upon being called with expectant eyes (well, a singular expectant eye), his body unmoving from its position leaned up against the wall. Usually, around this time, he'd be out in the smoking area with Hosah. Maybe that was all it was, Teddy had spotted him in a different place than he'd expected him to be. It wasn't quite his appearance that made him hard to keep your cool around, as he stood at almost a whole foot shorter than Teddy, his face still rather soft in terms of his features, like he'd never finished puberty. It was just.. his aura. Stone cold, calculated, and pungent of fresh coffee. He'd have to ask what cologne Jeanne wore when the conversation topic was less of a serious one.

"...Let's get lunch. I need to talk to you."

For once, Teddy almost thought he saw the man crack a smile at him.

The detective shook his head as he stood up straight, "I already told you, you're fine. I forgive you, in fact. It's okay."

"No, it's.. it's not that. Not that Im not still extremely sorry, but, there's something else I need your advice on." Teddy found himself fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt sleeve, unable to directly look Jeanne in the eye as he stuttered.

"You know how I lost my eye, Edward?"

Teddy braced himself for a tragic, yet inspirational tale that'd heighten his already undying respect for the man, "Ah, no, sir."

"Yeah. I can't tell you either. Signed an NDA." Jeanne gave him a firm pat on the back as he lead the way out of the agency's office building, "You can pick the place, I'm not a fussy eater."

No wonder Hosah got along so well with this guy.

The pair didn't really seem to have much in common besides their care for Hosah. He was the only thing they could really talk about on the journey, and it took most of his efforts and energy for Teddy not to gush or say something stupid. Despite the constant reassurance from Jeanne that he was forgiven for his past mistake, Teddy was still overcome with guilt and embarrassment. It hindered his ability to have a nice conversation about anything other than work with the detective, and it clouded his mind whenever the two were alone together.

It had been months by now, but the memory was still fresh in Teddy's mind. Jeanne had told Hosah, maybe if you were there sooner. He didn't like to think of himself as an overly emotional person, but watching the tears spill down the shifters face without him even realising himself, Teddy just couldn't contain himself. He was ashamed of what he did after that, so much so that he didn't even want to think about it. He wasn't himself in that moment, he was the person he thought he grew from years ago. A person who goes to unforgivable measures to seek justice for those that don't ask for it. The truth was, as a boy, Teddy got into a lot of fights. He was an emotional child, one overwhelmed with the weight of not having a single soul his own age who understood or even spoke to him, and when he saw or heard something he disagreed with in any capacity, he didn't know how to cope with it.

Teddy promised himself to never, ever use his fists against another person, unless in a life or death situation. Hearing Jeanne say those words felt like life or death, and Teddy had no idea what overcame him when he entered that staff room and tried to lay his hands on the detective. He didn't expect Jeanne to be so tough, but he was taught the fact very quickly. That was when Teddy learnt that Jeanne was quite the reasonable person and was very open to issuing an apology once confronted with the weight his words had on the shifter.

Being put on the spot to decide where to eat, Teddy took his superior to a place he frequented in his early days of detective-hood. A family owned burger restaurant in the centre of the city. It was nothing fancy, and the food definitely wasn't anything special, but Teddy really had no idea what type of guy Jeanne was, especially in terms of an ideal lunch. He didn't seem to mind the choice, at least.

"Hm." Jeanne looked over the various screen captures from the forum board that Teddy had printed off earlier in the day, "And Scotty told you to catfish this guy?"

".. Essentially." It was hard to speak clearly with a mouthful of burger.

He slid the papers back towards Teddy from the other side of the booth, "It's so stupid that it might just work. I say go for it, but not on your home computer. At the library or the office. I doubt you know how to go incognito, remove yourself from the grid, become untraceable. Someone down on B-block'll know."

"Yeah.. Yeah. Okay. Right." Teddy fidgeted with the papers between his fingers, trying to slip them back into the folder he'd brought them in as smoothly as possible, and failing miserably. "Well, that's not actually all I wanted to talk with you about.."

He swallowed, hard. Jeanne didn't seem to be the type to blow up with emotions at people, especially in a public space, but Teddy couldn't help but worry. Maybe he'd be offended on Hosah's behalf, and would lecture him on how terribly he misunderstood the shifter and undermined his strength, both mental and physical, and his capability to continue on with the case despite the clear danger it put him in.

"It's, it's the case. I can't let Hosah stay on it, I just.. I know something really, really bad is gonna happen, it's already bad enough as it is, but-"

Jeanne cut him off, reaching an arm forward to rest his hand upon Teddy's, "No, I agree. Completely. I just don't know what the boss'll say about it. I doubt she'll even think twice before shrugging it off as a 'he'll be fine' situation."

"I haven't spoken about it with him yet." Teddy added.

"It's best if you don't. Pin it on the boss, she'll gladly take the fall for it, and shes done Hosah far more dirty before, he'll get over it."

Teddy pulled his arm away, his eyebrows furrowing as he considered the two paths ahead of him. He could either lie to Hosah about knowing anything about him being taken off the case, or he could tell him the truth and face the music of his actions for the greater good. It'd be so unbelievably hypocritical of him to go down the first route, especially after making a point to push Hosah to be honest and open with him about everything, and it'd be even worse in the long run if he'd slip up and reveal it was his own idea all along, not Jules'. At the same time, however, the last thing he wanted was to fight Hosah again. It wasn't right of him to make this choice for the shifter, he was his own person and could decide whether he wanted to stay on board or not, but there was no way Hosah would make the right decision and remove himself from the line of fire headed straight for him.

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"Mhm. She has a meeting today with the previous head of the company, so we'll slip in her office tomorrow to talk about it." Jeanne had already started to get up to go back, having barely touched his food. "And... Don't look so beat up. It's the best thing for Hosah's safety. Even if he doesn't realise it."

And realise it, he didn't.

Once Teddy got back to the office, slightly exhausted from the mental anguish he'd been put through as his mind racked back and forth between guilt and embarrassment, he headed straight for Hosah. He still wasn't quite sure what he was going to do, Jeanne had given him the best advice he could get, but his swelling heart told him otherwise.

"No, no. Dude. I've told you like five times now, they need to be the other colour to stack." Hosah lectured, swatting the giant’s hand away from the card game. Teddy always thought solitaire was, you know, to be played in solitude.

Thierri pushed his chair away from the desk with his head in his hands, “But, I thought it was descending numbers from ten?? Man, I don’t fucking get this game.”

“I don’t know how much more plain and simple I can put it for you!” The sight was certainly one to see, that’s for sure. A shifter, not even the size of one of the cards they were playing with, yelling at Thierri in a similar fashion to how he imagined the stories of doing homework at the dinner table with your dad when described to him.

It took a moment of exasperated sighing in frustration, along with the dragging of a few cards across the desk with all of his might, before Hosah actually completed the game rather quickly, only then noticing the fact Teddy had come back in the time between.

“Oh, hey.” Hosah sounded completely out of breath as he finally god the chance to speak, “You have fun?”

“As fun as work talk gets, sure.” Teddy shrugged, pulling over his own chair to Thierri’s desk, “…Are you having fun?”

Hosah flashed a look of exhausted annoyance before laughing, pinching the bridge of his nose like the morning paper between his pointer and his thumb, “As fun as playing solitaire with someone who’s never even touched a deck of cards gets.”

Right.

[hexfloog]

LMAO. 24, DCMK.

LMAO HIII CIRC I FORGOT I HAD THIS ASK GAME IN THE QUEUE WHOOPS 💀

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

!!salt warning!!

for me it's always the funimation dub. always. make any passing comment about this particular dub around certain pockets of the dcmk crowd and suddenly they can't shut the fuck up about how "awful" it is. actual translation work, acting ability, and casting choices be damned - all that and everything else of potential merit just goes out the window, because some high-up chucklefuck at funimation wanted to have an anime protagonist named "jimmy."

*i've had the opportunity to ask some old guard funimation VAs about this in the last few years, and on at least two separate occasions they've relayed that this was indeed how shinichi ended up being localized as "jimmy" snfsnfnfnf

i’m fully aware i’m in the minority as a detco funi-dub enjoyer, and i'm not going to defend it like parts of it didn't age like milk (westernizing names was a very pre-mainstream anime scene practice but it really shouldn't have been thought to have been necessary in the first place, and it really fucking sucks this practice bled into other localization efforts), but we can point and laugh at those choices now and sequester them from the things that otherwise make the dub an effective one. but no matter the question or conversation about this dub it’s always derailed near-instantly with these useless early 2010s-youtube WTF DID I JUST WATCH-lookin comments. like lmao okay, [1] who fucking asked and [2] did you know the funi-dub names are probably the first rung on the detco iceberg and that your proclivity for loudly hating dubs contributes nothing to any discussion ever?? <- me every single time i watch this transpire in real time

i (begrudgingly) get that weathering the cyclical “funi dub sucks lol” sentiment is just a rite of passage in this fandom at this point but this conversation really does make a resurgence every couple of months, it seems, like some kind of horrible detco lunar cycle. the hate-boner anime purists some people have for this dub is exhausting, especially when you consider that other dubs of the era-- namely yugioh or pokemon-- are looked on affectionately and with significantly less vitriol.

there are things to be said about the shortcomings of this dub, ofc, and you're allowed not to like it, but i think it's gotta be on more than just vibes?? i can't take criticisms of this dub seriously when "conversations" are more of a ritualistic dub-hating circlejerk, and especially when there's significant overlap with people who seem to prefer the bang zoom dub just because they use the original names and is thus the "more accurate translation" or whatever.

i just don't feel like i should have to justify why i like this dub any time it comes up, and my opinions here shouldn't make anyone feel like they have to state why they don't like it, either. (for anyone reading this, please don't comment which you are because i'm just playing an ask game and as previously stated you don't need to defend your preference)

LOL THANKS FOR THE ASK

[bunnytalksf1]

carlos sainz, master strategist

This post has been a long time brewing. If we're being honest, since Singapore 2023, but mostly since this year when this narrative has intensified and been propped by the official media within Formula 1.

The fan narrative, especially since Singapore 23, was that Sainz was a strategic genius for keeping Norris behind (in a slower car) in his DRS range in order to back up the queue: "yeah, it's on purpose". I'm not trying to downplay his role here: that was ultimately a smart thing to do, but it is incredibly common in terms of strategy around a track where overtaking is difficult. The Ferrari strategy team did something very similar at Monaco 2024 with both Leclerc and Sainz, backing up the pack to stop the McLarens from getting a free stop over Russell, who was driving slowly to preserve his medium tyres. In AD16, Hamilton backed up Rosberg to try and push him back into Vettel, and thus give himself a better chance at winning the championship. My point: this is smart, but not never-before-seen, or unheard of.

At AD23, Leclerc, trying to preserve Ferrari's hopes for P2 in the constructors' with Sainz out of the points, allowed Perez past him when he got a five second penalty, to try and generate a 5 second gap between Perez and Russell, pushing Russell back to P4 in the race and minimising the points total of Mercedes. It didn't work - Leclerc waited maybe one or two laps too late, and Perez crossed the line in P2 but still finished behind Russell with the five second penalty. This strategy was Leclerc's call, but I remember immediately after the penalty was called thinking "let him past" and I'm not a strategist. This should have been a team strategy call, not a drivers', but still. This was Leclerc's call. He was not lauded like Sainz was for doing this. Not arguing he should have been, just pointing it out.

In the same race, Sainz was put on a truly strange strategy that saw him in the points, then pitted for the same compound and waiting for a safety car despite the one-stop being possible and a preferred strategy. He was not blamed for this strategy choice, nor should he have been. Ferrari are a truly strange beast when they actually have a chance of winning something.

So why is Sainz lauded as a master of strategy? Drivers shouldn't be credited nor blamed for it overall, in my opinion. Strategy departments have a lot more influence than the fans see: in debriefs, meetings, painstaking long hours where every possibilty is considered. For every race, there is an ideal strategy, for every race there is an alternative, a safety car possibilty, etc. Drivers are involved, of course, but the main bulk of the work is done by the strategists, who are blamed if it goes wrong, and ignored if it goes right.

Where this gets bizarre in regards to Sainz, though, is that his fans had started crediting him for part of Leclerc's win in Monaco, despite him being down in third, unable to affect Piastri in front at all. I'll give Sainz his dues: he definitely played the team game, but not in a way where he had to sacrifice himself. His backing up of Norris, not allowing him a free pitstop, was just as much to maintain his podium as it was to maintain Leclerc's win. In fact, in the latter stages, Leclerc was able to check out and eke a gap of eight seconds to Piastri behind, which had nothing to do with Sainz at all.

(Meanwhile, in Singapore 2023, the strategy team put Leclerc on softs at the beginning of the race to give him a better launch, making up ground at the start to protect and defend Sainz in the first stint. He recieves very little credit for this at the end of the race, despite it probably helping a fair amount).

At Silverstone 2024, Sainz was credited for being given the better strategy regarding the intermediate/slick tyres, and Leclerc was battered pretty thoroughly for "making the wrong choice" to the point that Elkann got involved. Both drivers were fed entirely different information, but still, there was the narrative that Sainz had somehow contributed to the communication being more effective, despite his engineer, Adami, being Vettel's engineer previously and a hell of a lot more experienced than Bozzi.

Then, Monza. Leclerc drives a one-stop in a slower (ish, debateable), car to give the scuderia a win in front of their home crowd, something which no one thought possible on Sunday morning. I've already given Leclerc his flowers, and I'm his fan, so of course I'm recognising what was respected as an incredible drive. No problems there. Sainz also drove the one stop and moved up to P4, which was a solid result given that Ferrari wasn't too optimistic about fighting with the McLarens. There was some chatter about Sainz helping fight off Piastri just enough to help Leclerc to the win, which I somewhat agree with, from fans.

Bernie Collins then posted an article that credited Sainz with the strategy call to go on a one-stop, and fans somewhat latched onto it. Collins was a strategist herself, and I really like her commentary on both Sky F1 and F1TV, where she provides valuable insight. The article, however--

Leclerc's decision to one-stop wasn't split: it couldn't have been. The one-stop was the ideal strategy going into the race as the pitlane loss is high and overtaking in Monza is harder than other tracks, especially without tyre offset. His laptimes, from the outset of the second stint, were consistent with going for this strategy, despite realistically pitting too early for it in a botched strategy moment that had him complaining to the team about being undercut, and missing an opportunity to build a tyre offset as his mediums were fine. Sainz pitted AFTER Leclerc, and thus by this point both Ferraris and both McLarens were aiming for a one-stop strategy. The race came alive when the McLarens started experiencing pretty extreme graining that made the cars undriveable towards the end of their second stint. Sainz then played his role great in backing up Piastri and Norris, but couldn't keep up with or catch up to Leclerc despite the tyre offset. In post-race, Vasseur, Leclerc, and Sainz himself (!!) all said the plan from the start was the one-stop, and the two stop was only considered momentarily as the McLarens started experiencing graining. Ultimately, it would be entirely wrong to credit Sainz with the strategy decision, since it was not his.

I've been noticing more fans crediting their favourite drivers with good strategy calls during the race, and then blaming strategy departments when things go wrong. We cannot have it both ways. If drivers ALWAYS decide their strategy, and are "master strategists" then we also need to credit them when things go wrong. Whilst drivers have a hand in strategy, they are not strategists themselves, do not have the data, and shouldn't necessarily be praised for strategy that they enact during the race, given that its likely a possibility that was talked over, rather than an idea in the spur of the moment. The strategists for teams are underappreciated, despite playing an absolutely vital role week in, week out. They support the drivers, and drivers are nothing without good strategy: look at Red Bull.

Sainz is not a strategist, he's a driver. And we need to start remembering that more often. Even, seemingly, people in the paddock.

[fictionkin-culture-is]

Hello, I just made a tumblr account to ask about this, so sorry if this comes out of nowhere :( So I have a friend who is a fictionkin I believe it's called? I am not very knowledgeable about kinning besides the general meanings and different types of kinning on surface level so I am sorry if I butcher up anything! My friend is getting irked by me because I have got an Ahri pfp on League of Legends (and she kins Ahri). I need to mention that I do not kin anyone and that the icon is a gift (+ i think its pretty). Either way she is getting irked and she will most likely delete me as she said that she can be the only Ahri irl etc (I guess the concept of 'no doubles'?) Something about throwing away our friendship over a league icon (or even an icon on discord) feels like she isn't being considerate of how I feel about characters and my interests (that I dont kin w characters, that I also want to like and express my liking of characters we might have in common etc) In a vent post she claimed that people who dont respect her highest kins aren't good friends and are invalidating her but I feel like she is only thinking about her inner self and not paying consideration to her friends who are interested in similar characters. It is a coping mechanism of hers which I respect and I do understand but something about it just doesn't fully sit right with me. I am not familiar with this community so I'd like to get someone else's input on the topic. Sorry for the wall of text and if the discussion isn't aligned with the requirements. Thank you in advance if you do read it tho :]

Hi, I hope you're doing well! No worries about "coming out of nowhere", that's what I'm here for :) Also, apologies for the late answer; I was temporarily away with nearly zero internet access. (Thank lord for the queue function.)

As for your question- I do not think you are even the slightest in the wrong here. As you have mentioned, the friend in question is aware that you are not fictionkin, and therefore shouldn't be upset that you have an icon of, well, a character you just like- something that is NORMAL to have.

Obviously, I'd recommend just trying to talk it out (although it might be useless advice, as you've probably already tried that). However, if that doesn't work and she just simply cannot accept the fact that not everyone who likes a character is challenging her identity as them, I believe that's just- I'm not sure how to put it in nicer words- her problem.

I hope this is even a bit helpful, and that the two of you can reconcile! But if not, don't feel guilty about it. You're allowed to express the fact that you like characters other people kin.

[amiscreations]

My Wembley Stadium Tour Experience (Def Leppard and Mötley Crüe)

TLDR: the Wembley Stadium tour just felt so empty, like half capacity if not less. There were people CONSTANTLY walking in front of me, like at least once per song, more than that before I moved seats. I was seated far away, so it was already harder to get into than when you're down the front, but this made it almost impossible and killed the experience for me.

So I mentioned this in the previous posts tags, but I was honestly a little disappointed by the London show. I know I'm not the only one, as I've seen numerous people online say similar things. Also I do not wanna come off as ungrateful, as I know lots of people would have killed to be in my place, however I am also allowed to judge experiences as they are. I AM grateful to have been there for such an iconic show, especially for Leppard, and I am also privileged to have front row to compare it to, but that doesn't mean I can't be disappointed by it.

The lead up to the concert before I went into the venue was honestly great! I met up with my friend from Italy, who I'm also going to Glasgow with, and we just hung out around the Wembley Park until she had to go in (she had a VIP package, I just had a regular seated ticket in the stands, so I went in after her). When I got in, MammothWVH played first and they were amazing! They honestly stole the show and I wanna hear more from them.

The first thing that threw me off was the fact that people would not stop getting up and walking around. I understand you may need the toilet or want food etc, (and that is the advantage of a seated ticket) but this was constant. I had an aisle seat originally, and I stayed in that for MammothWVH and Mötley Crüe. I am not kidding when I say people were CONSTANTLY walking up and down this aisle throughout both bands. Again I know the aisle is there for that reason, but it really took me out of the experience. This is kind of on me tho, as I didn't think about this when getting that seat, but I just feel like it shouldn't have been that constant, y'know?

Similar to this, after I moved from my aisle seat to another seat nearby, I had another problem. People around me were still getting up and walking past/over me. And the space between seats is super small, so you really are being walked over. I could see this happening all over the stand seats too, as well as on the floor. I had this new seat for Leppard, and again it was at least once per song where a group of people got up and walked in front of me. Also the people in front of me kept on standing up, which you just DO NOT DO if you're in a seat (unless you're on the floor) there were even signs saying please remain seated. So this meant I couldn't see. I wasn't going to tell them to sit down, as at the end of the day they were just enjoying themselves, but it was still annoying. Maybe this is common? I've never been to a gig in a stadium where I've been in upper seats, so maybe this is just what its like? idk.

Also, and probably the main thing about the show itself, was that it felt SO. EMPTY. I would say the seats were about 75% full at MAX, and the floor was barely half full. The floor was all seated as you can't queue for GA around Wembley, but it looked barren, and sort of ruined the atmosphere. This is why I could change seats so easily, as I was spoilt for choice. I hate to say this, but I honestly think Leppard and Crüe set their sights a bit high with Wembley, but even then they could have added more seats to the floor at a cheaper price, and lowered the price of the stand seats.

Also people just did not seem to be into it? Maybe it was just my section, but it kinda goes hand in hand with people constantly getting up and moving around. People seemed to treat it as just another night out, rather than a concert where the artists are performing live in front of you. No matter how far away they are (and I was quite far away for this one) they are still there.

And remember my friend who had VIP? she was in the FRONT. ROW. and STILL SAID THESE SAME THINGS? And I have seen other comments and show reports saying the same. Mostly about how empty it was.

Soz for the long post you guys, but I feel like I needed to say this to get it off my chest. I know this comes off as super ungrateful and tone deaf, and I did enjoy some parts of it, but overall, for something I have been looking forward to for months, I was very disappointed. Of course, this is all my personal opinion and experience, and I know so many people had an amazing night, so please don't think I am trying to rain on your fun!

[asinglestrike]

StrikeClan - Mistface Moon 8

"Ugh."

Mistface groaned, her eyes creaking open. To her pleasure, however, her throat felt better then it had these past two moons, and although she still sniffled every other word, she could actually breathe out of her nose. That's always a good sign.

The grey molly rolled over in her nest she was occupying the healers den, glancing at Deerstep The small brown molly had been doing worse than Mistface, being attacked by a dog and developing whitecough due to the infection. Mistface clicked her tongue. She hoped that Deerstep would make it through, she had come to enjoy the spunky little molly's company and loyalty to her newfound clan.

"Lightleaf?" She called out, voice raspy from not using it. No reply. Lightleaf had been acting so strange since the untimely death of Flintpaw, but Mistface figured she probably was just upset that she couldn't save him.

"Well, i'm not sitting around here all moon." She said to no one in particular, standing up and shaking the moss from her pelt. Sliding out of the den, she blinked back the harsh sunlight. Once her vision cleared, she saw Emberstar and Silverstorm talking quietly in the center of camp. Mistface frowned. Silverstorm looked so...old. Had the deputy really aged so fast in just two moons? Mistface was jerked from her thoughts as a ginger bundle slammed into her forepaw.

"Ha! You suck at this game, Cloudkit!" A voice squeaked. Mistface looked down to see one of Silverstorm's kits, Dawnkit. She frowned. She wondered why Emberstar had allowed Silverstorm to name her kit after Dawnfoot. Mistface didn't entirely know every prefix and suffix, but she knew enough to know that you just don't do that to a kid.

"Sorry..." A smaller, quieter voice piped up behind her, and she turned to see a smaller white tom. Cloudkit. She thought.

"Don't worry about it, kits. What game are you playing?" She asked. Dawnkit blinked up at her.

"We're playing leader and deputy!" She squeaked excitedly.

"But Cloudkit wants to be just a boring old warrior." The ginger kit stuck her tongue out at her brother.

"There's nothing wrong with that." Mistface chuckled. "Are you the leader, or the deputy?"

"Deputy, duh! Just like momma!" Dawnkit beamed. Mistface threw a glance at Emberstar and Silverstorm once more. Did Silverstorm even know her kits existed?

"If you work very hard and be strong like your momma, you can be deputy for real one day." Mistface winked at her. She was pulled from the conversation as Emberstar's voice rang out.

"Cat's of StrikeClan, hear my call!"

"That's my queue, kits." Mistface threw another wink at Dawnkit and softly ruffled the top of Cloudkit's head before making her way over. With a frown, she realized it was just her, Emberstar, Silverstorm, and Sparkfur. She knew where Deerstep was, but where was Lightleaf?

"StrikeClan. I have two important announcements for you here today. The first," Emberstar looked down at Silverstorm.

"Silverstorm has expressed that she wishes to retire. After moons of tireless service, we shall honor her as an elder." The leader continued.

Mistface and Sparkfur shared a glanced. That meant that one of them would have to take over. Surely, it has to be Sparkfur. Although she only had him for a moon, she had had an apprentice in Flintpaw, and her and Emberstar seem to get along a little...too well.

Mistface looked at Silverstorm. The former deputy looked like a shell of herself, not the confident, authoritative cat she had come to know. The grey molly wasn't even looking at Emberstar as she spoke, instead staring blankly ahead.

"Momma's not deputy anymore?" A tiny voice squeaked. Dawnkit looked upset, eyes wide and confused. Cloudkit huddled next to her, but remained quiet. Silverstorm didn't even react to the sound of her kits voice.

"You shouldn't be speaking, Dawnkit." Emberstar scolded lightly. Dawnkit's ears went down, and Mistface felt bad for her. It must be so hard, especially when your own mother won't even look at you.

"StarClan." Emberstar raised her voice.

"You have trusted me leadership over StrikeClan. May you hear my voice, as I appoint the next deputy and potential next leader."

"The new deputy, will be Mistface."

"What?!"

It was Mistface's turn to speak out of line. She quickly composed herself, licking her fluffy chest fur.

"But uh...Emberstar. I haven't trained an apprentice."

"I'm aware. You will have Cloudkit once he is apprenticed." Mistface turned to look at the tiny tom, who shrunk back. That one is going to need some work. She thought, giving him a small smile.

"Then...I accept. Thank you, Emberstar. Thank you, StrikeClan." She strode forward with confidence, taking her place below Emberstar. Silverstorm turned and walked to the elders den without a word.

"Momma, come back!" The kits scampered after her. A sadness fell over the clearing as the three remaining cats watched them go.

"In other news." Emberstar cleared her throat.

"Morel has given me news. He says he saw a cat with a pelt as black as night leading the dogs towards me."

Mistface nodded solemnly. Emberstar had recently lost her first life, the patrol finding her under a fallen tree with dog scent around her.

"The only cat I know with a pelt like that, is Burnetstar." Her gaze hardened.

"This will not go unpunished." Her claws slid out.

"HollowClan has crossed a line, bringing dogs to our territory. And what if they catch Morel?" Emberstar shook her head.

"We cannot allow this. I am formally declaring war."

"War?!" Sparkfur spoke up, fur bristling. "Emberstar you cannot be serious. We only have four warriors, and the kits are only three moons! You know I love a good fight, but this...this is just stupid!"

"I understand your concerns, Sparkfur. But the three of us are skilled warriors, and when Deerstep recovers, her small size will give her an advantage over those stocky HollowClan cats." Emberstar gazed at Sparkfur, and Mistface saw some emotion in both cats gazes.

"Do you trust me?" Emberstar whispered, so quietly that Mistface had to strain her ears to hear it.

"Always." Was the even quieter response.

Emberstar turned to her. "Mistface, to my den. We need to discuss strategy." She nodded.

"Er....Sparkfur." Mistface flicked her ears. "You can pick if you wanna hunt or patrol. Just...don't be reckless, please."

"Me? Reckless? Come on."

Mistface snorted.

"Get out of here before I chase you out myself!"

And that's a wrap on Moon 8! I really like Mistface, and of course I had to slip Morel in somewhere. The kits are really cute, and they actually have the in-game personalities I had in my head for them, they just knew. It was a toss up between the kits as to who Mistface would get, but I think Sparkfur would be nervous getting a new apprentice so soon after Flintpaw. I know who Dawkit is going to go to, yall aint ready for this.

The war on HollowClan came COMPLETELY out of no where, but I figure that Morel is a little bit of a gossiper and may have let it slip that Burnetstar was present for Emberstar's death. But did they directly cause it? Only Burnetstar knows.

[vise-vas]

Let's talk about #brandidentity!

The Oxford definition states it's: "The way in which various elements of a brand are made to appear externally, by means of a corporate logo or symbol, a product, service, packaging, slogan, or a physical environment. This can also mean the sum total of all the elements of branding that make the unique identity."

So basically, it's the outward personality or *vibe* of the brand, achieved through aesthetics.

But why should we care about what a brand looks like? Shouldn't we not judge a book by its cover?

Fact is, whether we're aware of it or not, we're always forming opinions on things subconsciously. Besides, if you're looking for romance books you'll probably find one more easily if you search for soft colours and romantic fonts!

Being able to gather information from visual queues and patterns is an evolutionary skill that has been beneficial since the dawn of time. So of course, we might as well use smart #brandingdesign to help convey information to customers about what exactly you are all about! You'd be surprised just how much a good #logo can make a difference in how your customers perceive your business.

Here you can see my own brand's logos. Allow me to ask a few rhetoric questions: What words come to mind from looking at them? What was the intention of the design?

[karasbroken]

I'm currently writing a little scene where hair comes up, but I just wanted to take a moment to point out how unusual it was and still is, to show very masculine, fascist-coded characters with long hair. It's tightly controlled, yes (except when he's losing his grip) but it is undeniably long. And while many male Peacekeepers weren't shown with long hair (probably because there weren't that many actors available with long hair and wigs are a pain) our first, most prominent peacekeeper man is long-haired.

I love this little detail for a couple reasons. One is that it lets Peacekeeper female characters wear their hair long without that being coded as feminine. There's a lot to say about whether Peacekeeper society is or isn't misogynistic or feminine erasing (if you want an essay, just ask). But it's very clear that hair length is not associated in any way with the gender binary or even with class/rank/service category distinctions. Hair needs to be very neat, presumably so that it doesn't get in the way, especially in a space faring system with zero G combat always a possibility. But we see women with short and long hair, and men too.

I also like it because long hair, especially in men, but to an extent in women too, is a marker of hedonism, artistic natures, free spirits, general wildness. (Perhaps carve out an exception here for historical Asian martial arts movies, but at least in Euro- and American media, this is a common trope.) And as a person with long hair, I find that a little limiting. Sometimes I see myself as some of those things. But hair is just hair. Its length shouldn't need to carry all this extra weight. I am no more artistic because I have long purple hair or less of a software engineer. So I really like that long hair seems like just a choice, one of the very very few that peacekeepers get to make about their appearance. (On my next rewatch I do need to look to see if there are other long haired men with queues.)

I don't know if this was a deliberate choice by Farscape makeup artists, or whether Lani Tupu wore his hair long for cultural or personal reasons and was allowed to keep it, and so it became a Peacekeeper trait. He is one of the only people of color in the cast, and there's a long history of indigenous men being forced to cut their hair for many reasons that has to be acknowledged.

But whyever it happened that Peacekeepers of all genders were allowed to have neat little bondage hair, it's a small thing I truly adore.

[jishyucks]

The L Word ‣ hjs

‣ genre: angst with a fluffy ending, arranged marriage, sort of modern royalty (rich kid!au), female reader

‣ wc: 2.1k

‣ summary: “Tell me, Han. Has she ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”; in which Jisung's afraid that Y/N's going to leave him in rising of rumors but learns he shouldn't judge a situation from the words of others

‣ warnings?: The Hwang 'sibs' are mean in this (just a bit), lowkey rushed, jisung runs off because of overthinking

Looking at the ballroom’s appearance, Jisung feels as though he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Like some puzzle piece placed in the wrong box. The people attending the party lived lavish lifestyles, knowing the difference between the different forks placed at the tables. Etiquette was more important to them than the basics a middle-class person would even care about.

Though Jisung had good ideas of such subjects, it wasn't forced onto him like those around him. The only reason why he was able to attend the party was because of a marriage arrangement your father and his father had made as some kind of sick ‘contract’ regarding business. Though he wasn’t complaining, feelings for you developed through the years of knowing you since childhood, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about a handful of things.

For one, you guys were engaged through the arrangement. It’s been three years since the announcement, and even if Jisung believed you were fine with it, even if you ensured to Jisung that you were happy with the engagement, intrusive thoughts started keeping him up at night.

He knew you. You hated speaking out your feelings, whether it led to consequences or not. What if you actually weren’t fine with it? What if you were somehow threatened by your father and the contract to actually speak out about the engagement? He didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him.

Then there was his family’s reputation. His family was deemed drastically poorer than yours by the other associated families and businesses. He was afraid of tainting your family’s reputation or seeming like one of those leeches found at the bottom of murky ponds. Though it was an arranged marriage, Jisung had genuine feelings for you. It was his father that was in it for the money and Jisung was nothing like his father.

“Hey, scrounger!” Jisung turned to find Hyunjin and his sister Yeji approaching him from the opposite corner of the room. They both were dressed in clothes that were probably a lot more expensive than his own, his clothes being hand-me-downs from his father.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yeji smirked, “You don’t even have business here.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eyeing down the boy.

Jisung didn’t cower under their gaze, instead of straightening his back, “I’m here because I was invited. My father was invited as well.” Don’t show fear, he told himself, That’s what they want.

“Ahh~,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Good way to disguise 'because of Y/N.' Tell me, Han. Has Y/N ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”

Yeji butted in, laughing, “I think love is too strong of a word… how ‘bout like? Has she ever told you that she liked you? Cause rumor has it she’s planning on breaking your engagement.”

Jisung gulped, “S-she has… and gossip is bullshit.” He lied. When the arrangement was created, there was some kind of unspoken assumption that you both liked each other. As a result of this, no confessions were made from you both. Sure it was stupid, but in Jisung’s eyes, actions spoke louder than words, and just by how he treated you and you treated him, you both cared very much for each other. Of course, other people never paid attention to actions and relied on direct statements.

“We don’t gossip, Han,” Hyunjin scoffs, “Who would pass up the opportunity to marry Bang Chan when he’s the son of the top businessman in all of Korea?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, eyed widening slightly at the mention of Bang Chan’s name.

“His father apparently wanted to create a deal with her father that was a lot better than his deal with yours,” Hyunjin explained, “Isn’t your engagement part of that poorer deal?”

Jisung chose not to reply, biting his tongue. Instead, he shoots Hyunjin a narrowed glare, not up for defending himself or arguing. With the lack of response from their target, the siblings simply rolled their eyes and walked away, taking a seat at their designated table.

When the attention was diverted away from him, Jisung couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall. He feels his heart beating quicker than at rest, thoughts running through his mind like crazy. You wouldn’t leave him just like that right? You wouldn’t.

Then his mind wanders back to Hyunjin and Yeji’s question. Yes, he did think that actions were undoubtedly stronger than words, but now that a spotlight was shone on the hidden yet obvious fact that you both hadn’t said anything about each others’ feelings, he couldn’t help but believe that you could possibly be leaving him. But then again, he has never said anything to you and his feelings existed.

He felt the sudden urge to look for you, who had been busy accompanying your father with the guests. Maybe he will actually confess how he truly felt, just in case you were actually thinking about breaking the engagement. Maybe he could save it somehow, just in case your father was willing to make the deal with Mr. Bang.

Chewing the bottom of his lip, he scanned the room, looking for the lavender dress you were wearing. But with the clumps of people, his line of sight was constantly stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled politely, making his way through the crowd, “Excuse me.” He ignored the looks some people gave him, still slithering his way between the socializing people. Though his hair was parted in a way that exposed part of his forehead, he felt the need to hide under his bangs, keeping his head low as he did.

The familiar sound of your father’s laugh drove Jisung to stop and look around his area. If he was close, you’d be close. Scanning his surroundings completely, he finally spots your father, with you standing close beside him. He feels a smile rise on his lips as he begins to make his way towards you both, heartbeat racing just as his thoughts were.

Opening his mouth to call out for you, he quickly stops himself when he realizes that you and your father were holding a conversation with Bang Chan and his own father. His feet abruptly stop, allowing him to overhear the exchange of banter.

“Well, it was a pleasure having this conversation with you,” Mr. Bang chuckled, “I will see you on Monday for the papers?” He held a hand out for a handshake, a smile filled with pride appearing on his lips.

Your father nodded, “Likewise. I’m looking forward to it.” He completes the handshake, which then queues for Chan to lean in for a hug.

Shit, Jisung gulps, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, What the hell just happened?

You take a step forward and hug Chan back for a brief second before pulling back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here, Chan.”

Chan’s dimples appeared as he smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jisung was frozen on the spot, unsure whether or not he should say anything. The notes that he had mentally jotted down in his head were suddenly ripped into pieces and he was practically speechless.

Obliviously, you turn to follow your father, who was already ready to move on to another conversation. Mid-turn, the boy dressed in a striped, navy suit had caught your attention, giving him a double-take, “Oh! Jisung!” The corners of your mouth rise higher, eyes lighting up at the sight of the familiar boy. A wave of comfort washed over you. It was refreshing to see him after interacting with so many strangers and acquaintances.

When you go to approach him, Jisung panics and begins to back into the people behind him. It was then you noticed the look of distraught on his face, causing you to speed up. At this, he turns and runs, causing commotion around him as dodges those who got in his way.

“Jisung!” You called out, turning the heads of those people around you. The music had drowned your voice out from those further away from you, “Jisung!?” You begin making your way through the crowd of people, going as fast as you could in heels so that you wouldn’t lose Jisung. A million assumptions were running through your head, worry lining each and every one of them.

Swinging the door open, Jisung finds himself stumbling out into the empty corridor of the hotel. With the choice of left and right, Jisung stops and impulsively runs in one direction, not minding where he would end up if kept running.

So you were going to break the engagement… without warning? How were you going to break the news to him? How was he supposed to react once you told him about it all? Happy? Sad? Excited?

You finally reached the door of the ballroom, slipping out rather roughly into the corridor. Your head whips left and right, seeing Jisung’s trailing feet to the right of the hallway, turning the corner. You let out a heavy breath before kicking off your heels, booking it in that direction.

Your mind wanders to why Jisung was running. What did he hear? Was he okay? Could it be what other people were saying again? But Jisung was never usually one to let words get to him.

Jisung lets himself rest once he gets to a secluded room. Judging by its content, he realized that he managed to slip into the coatroom, but he didn’t care. He needed time alone to think. He just needed to process this entire situation.

“Jisung?” He hears you call out. Jisung sinks down at the corner of the room, resting his head against the wall. He stays quiet, resting his forehead against his knees.

The door to the coat room opens, revealing your disheveled figure, “Jisung…” You pause and try to catch your breath, “There… there you are.”

Jisung doesn’t lift his head, afraid that if he did face you, he would burst into tears. He could sense you approaching him, though, settling down beside him. He could feel your dress up against him. Soon he feels your hand take his, holding it tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Jisung doesn’t answer, you don’t say anything to push out an explanation. You let the question simmer, resting your head against his shoulder.

At this point, Jisung’s mind was projecting none of his thoughts but static. He didn’t know where to start and what to bring up. How was he supposed to confront you about the engagement?

“I’m happy for you two,” Jisung blurted out quietly, avoiding eye contact, “I really am.” Your ears perked up, confused at what Jisung was going on about.

“I think people will like you both together more than us,” Jisung continued, “Just know that I lo–“

You interrupt him, turning to completely face him, “Jisung, what are you talking about?” You turned your body towards him, completely facing the cowered boy. Though your body language was practically begging for eye contact, Jisung still avoided it, playing with his rings to keep him from losing control over his emotions.

Building up his confidence, Jisung let himself look at you before whispering, “Y/N?” He sniffled quietly.

“Yeah, Sung?”

Jisung gulped and asked, “Do you like me?”

You’re taken aback by the question, not expecting it out of all the questions Jisung could have asked. Is this why he was crying?

“Of course I do, Jisung, what makes you thin–“

“I mean genuinely like me. Do you have feelings for me?” Words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying. He could feel his emotions taking control of himself, which often is never a good thing.

“Jisung, I love you, okay? Why do you think otherwise?” The beat of your heart sped up with worry. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern as Jisung’s lips quivered slightly.

“The Hwang's told me you were planning on breaking our engagement because Bang Chan’s father offered a better deal than my father,” he explained quietly. He felt as though that if he spoke any louder, he would break out into tears, “I told them I didn’t believe them… t-then they asked me if you’ve ever told me if you did have feelings for me. I just didn’t know what to think when… when I saw your father accept Mr. Bang’s deal. I was afraid you were actually going to leave me.”

You gently slapped his shoulder in shock, “Han Jisung, are you serious?” Jisung responded wordlessly, though a puzzled look replaced his previous emotion.

“My father approached me beforehand about it. He wanted to break our engagement because of the deal, telling me that it was no longer necessary,” you say, “But I told him I wanted to marry you because I love you, Sung. And if he did threaten to forcibly break our engagement, I would’ve fought for us.”

Jisung wanted to laugh at himself at how much he had overreacted. Overthinking was a bitch and this situation was real-life proof, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sung?”

“I would fight for us too.”

[nostalgicfun]

Coco shouldn't be in your Halloween movies collection post. Coco is about the day of the dead, thats a mexican tradition about honoring and remembering our loved ones who passed away. Thats nothing like halloween. I asked you kindly to remake your post and out that movie away.

Good afternoon! Thank you for reaching out about the inclusion of Coco! 😊

Coco was added directly to this list by my roommate (and best friend of over a decade!) Leo, who is not only from Mexico, but has played as a Mariachi since he was 14! Leo and his family moved here from Villa Guerrero in the late 90s, and I have learned so, so incredibly much from him and his family since we met ten years ago!

I was making this list while sitting and talking with Leo and was complaining that I was still several movies short. He took one look at the list and said “you forgot Coco!”

I told him that it was a lineup of traditionally spooky movies, and that it would probably be best for me not to include it, and that I had it written down in my doc file to make a separate post about it on the appropriate day. Leo (who has the patience of a saint lol) sat down and explained that as long as Coco is NOT referred to as a Halloween movie, it’s okay in his eyes (and we texted his sister for double validation) to include it on a “Season of Scares” list, as long as I acknowledge that it is NOT a Halloween movie on the day that it comes up. Believe it or not, that’s actually the direct reason why the list is called “Season of Scares” rather than a Halloween lineup; Leo suggested taking out the Halloween phrasing!

He talked about that fact that Coco is commonly completely excluded from October movie lineups with the reasoning “iT’s NoT a HaLlOwEen mOvIe” (his mocking tone, not mine lol) and that leaving it out altogether is, in his opinion, more hurtful in the long run than including it to start with. He’d like to see more people enjoy his culture as long as they can accept and respect Mexican culture for what it is!

As soon as I made the first post, I did queue up a scheduled post for the 16th(the day Coco is on the list) that explains that this was Leo’s personal pick and to ensure that viewers know that it is NOT a Halloween movie! 😊 I have attached a screenshot of said post below.

That being said, you did make me aware that I said “Halloween season” in the original post one time, which I was trying hardcore to avoid, so thank you for making me aware of that. I am deleting all reblogs of this post on my blog and removing the word "Halloween" from the original post. The list is supposed to be a fun autumn/ “spooky” lineup created with the intent to offer fun alternatives to the horror-movie based lineups we usually see this time of year!

I hope this clarifies things. I would absolutely never do anything to step on anyone’s toes. For years I wouldn’t even make traditionally Hispanic dishes for dinner until one day Leo’s mom was like “you know you’re allowed to make tacos at home, right? You can make tacos. You’re not saying you invented tacos you’re allowed to cook them.”

OKAY ADDITIONALLY: I started typing up this response at work. Things like this rattle me pretty bad, so before posting this I walked over and talked to the leader of the LatinX Club here on campus, who is Mexican (as are over 80% of the members) to make sure it was okay of me to stick with what Leo said. I didn't want to come off as "WeLl aCkshUalLy" so I showed her this ask, as well as the lineup and the post I have queued for Coco. Her sentiments seemed to mirror Leo’s: “Add Coco, but speak up! Raise awareness! It’s NOT a Halloween movie, yeah, but it deserves a spot on a spooky list nonetheless!” She, without knowing what Leo said, added that it’s better for non-Hispanic people to add it than to not acknowledge its existence at all, as long as they understand it’s not a Halloween movie! (And I did let her know I'm removing the word "Halloween" from the original post)

In addition, she had a suggestion for ANOTHER Day of the Dead movie that often gets overlooked: The Book of Life! Even I’d never heard of this one, and apparently it’s a Guillermo del Toro movie!? She described it as “Coco adjacent” and told me to “get Sweeney Todd off of that list! That’s not even a little kid friendly. You should have The Book of Life before you have Sweeney Todd." She also pointed out that it has a mostly Hispanic cast!

So on Sweeney Todd's designated day we will be acknowledging The Book of Life instead, as per Mrs. Diaz's request! I was already doubtful about including Sweeney Todd because it's a bit more graphic than I prefer on this blog, so this is basically exactly what I was looking for! ♡

In addition, Mrs. Diaz urges everyone to go see yet another Hispanic (Colombian, I believe) Disney movie coming out: Encanto! Like The Book of Life and Coco, it also features a predominantly Hispanic cast! It will be released this November and focuses on a Colombian family, their culture, and their meaning of family! She points out that non-white Disney movies (and non-white children's movies in general) don't have a history of doing spectacularly in (at?) the box office, so it's important for everyone who wants to support this movie to do so to the best of their ability! (Yes she is sitting beside me while I write this, sorry for the ad lol)

Okay now I’m done. I know internet promises mean just about nothing, but I promise with ever fiber of my miserable little being I would never, EVER step on anyone’s toes or post anything willfully ignorant. Thank you so much for making me aware of the fact that my wording was harmful so that I could rectify the post and prevent any further hurt feelings or misunderstandings!

[dreaminlittlenightmares]

Here's a writing prompt for you. The North Wind messes with a character for your choosing and ends up getting more than they bargained for.

This has been in the queue since late August! I hope this was worth the wait, Anon!!

Title: Windy Days Word Count: 841 Characters: the North Wind, the Raincoat Girl CW: Mild Language Use

Raine ran forward, dragging the kite line behind her. She's has been trying to fly her kite all afternoon, but for some reason, the poor thing just wouldn't leave the ground...literally. The diamond shaped cloth slid across the rocky pavement pitifully, as if it was too tired to lift off the ground. Raine stopped with a huff. This just didn't make sense. She walked over to her kite and picked up it up to inspect it. The kite wasn't damaged, nor was the line; so, what was going on?

"Hello, little girl," a chilling voice called out.

Raine looked around. She didn't recognize the voice and doubted the Craftsman built an outdoor speaker recently. She looked and looked, and noticed a crow perched on one of the tall hand sculptures. It looked down at her with its golden eyes, grinning a toothy smile. Raine didn't like the way it gazed at her, even more so with that creepy smile.

"Trying to fly a kite on such a stale day?" the crow asked.

Raine nodded silently, unsure whether to answer out loud or flee back into the Nest mansion.

The crow flew down from its perch and changed its shape. A tall, humanoid, shadowy creature with an angular head took its place. It still had its golden eyes and toothy smile, though there were now two mouths stretched across its face. It placed its long, feathery fingertips together and hovered just above the ground. "Do you know who I am, little girl?" asked the shadowy creature with a sickening excited smile.

"N-No?" Raine answered honestly.

"REALLY!?" The wind monster lunged towards her, just stopping in front of her face. "Then, allow me to introduce myself. I am the King that Rules from the Skies, Master of the Four Winds, the Lord of Storms and Despair!"

"Henry?" Raine squeaked out.

"What?" the wind creature scoffed, "No, you stupid child! I'm the North Wind! King of the Skies, Master of the Winds, and Lord of Despair!"

"Henry?" Raine continued, "the hurricane that blew past here a few years back and, apparently, did a lot of damage?"

The North Wind blinked at her. "What in the world are you talking about, child? Do you have any idea how hard it is to make a hurricane in northern waters?"

"But, if you're the master of storms and hurricanes, shouldn't that be easy for you?" Raine countered innocently.

This was probably the first time in a very long time that the wind entity felt humiliated by a child. They gawked at Raine, then gritted their teeth in fury. "How dare you! You want wind? Fine!" The North Wind thrusted an arm into the air. A vortex of wind soon appeared, spinning around with the same amount of anger as its master's temper. "Behold! Fear my powers over the elements!"

However, Raine did the opposite. She squealed gleefully and clapped. "Wind! Yay!!" She took her kite and tossed it gently in the air. It soared quickly into the air with Raine doing her best to keep the line steady.

The North Wind stared at her. Normally, children and adults alike, ran in terror from them, especially whenever they caused a weather phenomenon to suddenly appear. But, the raincoat girl's cheers of delight and joy of finally being able to fly her stupid kite made them confused. They purposely made the air around the Nest still, just to mess with her. They hoped to get an easy scare, or a new plaything, while they flew past the Nest. But, this girl...

"FOOLISH CHILD!" the North Wind bellowed, "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO YOU!?" Their vortex died down and was replaced with a wild gale and lashing rain. "I AM THE GODDAMN NORTH WIND, DAMN IT! HOW DARE YOU TREAT ME LIKE SOME SORT OF GAME!" Crackles of lighting and thunder boomed from the wind entity's outburst.

Raine looked back at the North Wind."But, I thought you wanted to play?" she said, pulling her raincoat hood over her head.

"You-!" The rainstorm died down, along with the winds and the thunder. The North Wind lost, and they didn't like to lose. They could just simply hurl a bolt of lightning at her, out of sheer anger; but, North Wind was too stunned by this child's oblivious indifference to try. Where was the fun if their new plaything wasn't even remotely afraid of them? "Ugh, horrid girl. What is your name?"

"Raine," she answered calmly, "Uh...the girl in the yellow raincoat; and um...inhabitant of the Nest, I guess." She gave the wind lord a small curtsy.

"Raine...what a lovely name." The North Wind hovered towards her and bowed lowly. "We'll meet again." The North Wind sneered and flew away at their embarrassing failure.

Raine watched them leave sadly. No one else at the Nest would play with her, and the one being that did just left. She looked back at her kite and sighed. Then, she went back to running it again. Hopefully, it'll actually flew this time.

[s1yfox14]

I've made a decision.

Each time I come on here its to indulge in my grian brainrot, to look at and reblog art, to read and reblog fanfiction, to reblog memes i found funny, to make my own posts about this side of mcyt.

So.... why not make a rule: I cannot queue hermitcraft/trafficsmp ANYTHING. Why? So that my queue doesn't reach 200 one day.

What will I do instead? spam you with it!

anything else i find that isn't related will be added to the queue so stuff is nice and spaced out. basically if my last post is not related to hermitblr or trafficblr in any sense, then I'm not online right now, probably.

it also allows me to spam at my followers! congrats!! this is why you shouldn't follow me!!!!

Also i would for once put the effort into tagging a post properly but instead I'll make the excuse that I uhhhhh swore in this post! right?

[jtrokujo]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊

paring: Tobio Kageyama x fem!Reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none

genre: fluff (i think)

summary: Through their long and healthy friendship, Kageyama decided to meet with (Y/N). But what was the real reason he wanted to meet her or maybe there was no reason, but one thing is clear; (Y/N) is head over heels in love with him.

—

She stands nervously and unsuspectingly in front of her closet and is still thinking about which outfit she should display for her first date.

But not with anyone, no, but with Tobio Kageyama himself.

Hard to believe, but true.

Because since the earlier years, the now big stubborn head, had been her crush, but in the last few days she wondered whether it wasn't just a bad joke or something like that.

Or whether he would dump her and much more, even when her friends tried to give her courage or that it was not like him, the same thought kept coming up, 'What if ...'

Still with this ulterior motive, she took any outfit and slowly changed.

However, she did not know that her crush would be with her in a few minutes.

She was just fixing her hair, which looked a bit messed up when it was put on, until the doorbell paid her attention.

She quickly grabbed her cell phone and bag with everything necessary already inside and now made her way to the front door.

Just as the black-haired one wanted to press the blades again, the door opened.

The first thing he saw was not like in the typical films, the outfit, no more the hair, but instead of staring at her strangely, he looked at her lovingly and quickly fixed her hair.

The pounding of the heart of the person opposite could apparently not be overheard.

The silence among them is so pleasant, but she curses herself for the fact that her heart is beating quite loudly at the moment.

Is that still healthy at all?

"Let's go?" he asked her and held out his hand to her.

"Yes, in a moment. I just have to put my shoes on very quickly, then we could go." she said with an extremely normal tone and took out the shoes which she is now putting on.

While she is about to tie her shoelaces together, the thought of Kageyama came to mind when they first met.

A warm grin could be seen on his face and he didn't even try to hide it, because if he shouldn't feel well he just has to think about this one moment, where any bad emotions in him dissolve like in the elevator.

"... yama? Kageyama? Tobio Kageyama!"

"Huh?" he looked at her in amazement, while she looked at him in amazement.

"Are you all right?" she asked worriedly, touching his forehead as his cheeks made a pinkish tone.

He gently took her hands away from him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Shall we go?"

Nodding, she took his hand which was stretched out in front of her - so they made their way to the amusement park.

TIME SKIP

As soon as the teenagers had paid for the ticket, they entered the amusement park when suddenly something particular caught Kageyama's attention, and he immediately pulled his good friend with him.

"Kageyama?" she asked him in amazement, but looked at the other stands, from extraordinary sweets to the weirdest cuddly toys, but you are now standing in front of one of these stands. "Doesn't she duck look extraordinary?" he looked her in the eye.

Nodding, she agreed.

He paid for the balls to win them, but just before he could throw a ball she told him it wasn't necessary "A little reminder wouldn't hurt anyone." he answered with a small grin and already positioned himself.

But how unexpectedly - he only threw one ball and immediately all the empty cans fell down, the seller gave the volleyball player a compliment and immediately afterwards got the cuddly toy he wanted.

"Here." said the black-haired one and showed the cuddly toy under her nose.

Thankfully, she accepted this, after which the two would visit one or the other booth for a long time.

Until Kageyama's hand was pulled, he looked at his companion in amazement when she stopped and looked up.

Likewise, looking up, keep his jaw open.

A haunted house.

As reluctant as he would admit it, he's not a big fan of it, as long as that doesn't mean he's scared of it now.

He just doesn't like it.

"Kageyama, are you okay?" she told him which he only answered with a 'yes'.

She saw this as sufficient and thus paid for the tickets.

Still not enthusiastic they were allowed in and then Kageyama wondered why he was in such a bad mood all the time, it's not that bad, no, rather normal.

If only he only knew.

Because immediately after the sentence of his thought ended, two zombies came, who scared both of them and screamed so loud that the probability is that the other from the outside had heard it.

After what felt like an eternity they left the haunted house together, although they look more horrible than normal, but if you have to be honest they would say that it was a fun time which they will soon be able to laugh together.

Even then they were so different, but still so the same.

Sounds strange, maybe it is too, they will only understand.

ABOUT 6 YEARS BEFORE

While the boys are once again playing a sport together and the girls are playing with dolls while talking about the boys, there is one girl who is sitting alone on a bench and doing the process that she has been doing since she started school.

Every day at the same time and in the same place, she takes the coloring book from her backpack that her mother gave her and the pens that came with it and began to paint as always.

Of course she was alone, but what could she do now?

Do the activities that don't make you happy, no thanks.

In addition, the boys were conceited and the girls bitchy, is understandable but doing the same thing over and over again?

Certainly all the children have disappeared after all or have different interests, so why are they doing exactly what is probably not making them happy?

Or maybe it's better not to know everything, because you never know.

Scrawling on the coloring pad, she didn't hear the small footsteps coming at her until the person draws her attention.

"You are (Y / N) right?"

The little girl was astonished to see who she was talking to.

Unfortunately, she didn't know his name, reluctantly she nodded and painted the elephant with the next color she could grab.

"Do you have friends?" he asked puzzled and looked at her, she was still paying attention to the coloring book - still answered with a shake.

"Oh, well then, let me help you paint." the black-haired gave her the offer.

She thought for a long time so that she had forgotten the doorbell.

"Let's go inside." he said and helped her with packing, but instead of going with her he was jogging in while she was taking all the time.

Weird.

PRESENCE

At the moment you are now in front of a booth where you can buy the most delicious sweets in Japan, but the queue is not short for that it is so popular.

It's quite long, you could say there are 30 people waiting crazy for their turn just to be able to buy a candy.

The friends are in the middle of the long queue, but while Kageyama is talking to his good friend about the new film that is just before it, the little encounter occurred to her, whereupon she asked him, "Kageyama, you remember back in elementary school when you knew me asked if I had friends, why did you come up to me so suddenly. "

Immediately, in silence, he considered that day.

"Every day you were alone. Every day while the other kids had their friends, you were the only one who was alone. I didn't know what to say so I decided to ask if too really had friends. In the beginning it was only because of pity that I always kept you as a little company, but when we went to a new school you were so different.

You had friends, you could laugh, and you didn't have a coloring book with you. I'm happy to be friends with someone like you, I don't know myself what makes you so special, but one thing is clear. You are unique."

Is that real, Kageyama? "

Shocked by what he said keep her jaw open, said nothing but stared at the floor.

Immediately after Kageyama paid for the candy, he showed his girlfriend if she wanted to go to the Ferris wheel with him, she only agreed when she was allowed to pay for the tickets.

After a few minutes of discussion, he was dejected and so they set off.

When she had paid for the tickets, she ran up to Kageyama who was standing in line, but it didn't look like they'd have to wait forever, which made her sigh in relief.

In the middle of the conversation, a member of staff drew attention to the young people because they were apparently allowed to be on the Ferris wheel.

Like a gentleman, Kageyama stood by the side so that his girlfriend can enter this first.

From now on you are allowed to go on the Ferris wheel for 5 laps, but when you reached the top you saw the blue sky getting an orange tone, the sunset.

How she loved them, the atmosphere between them was so beautiful, because the silence was not at all uncomfortable, no.

"(Y / N)." he said.

She turned and saw that he had something in hand, possibly a small box.

"I would like to thank you for being such a great person, who always kept my back free. The person who made me laugh a lot. The person who gives me security. The person with whom I, to be myself However, in the meantime, the feelings also came.

My heart beat madly against my chest every time I only think of you, hear your name or even when I see you. But your touch takes me to another world, where there are no worries, where there is no one but us. So I asked you would you like to be my boyfriend? "

When he said his last sentence, he opened the box to see a chain.

The chain was engraved with its initial letter, "You over here, (Y / N)."

He pulled the chain out from under his sweater and you can see that he has the same chain, only that it is engraved with its first letter.

"I would love to be your friend." she said and so her lips touched his.