#a bunch of these books are actually very short at least

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Ambitions, or; What I'd Like To Read By End Of Year.

Behold: (Part of) my TBR! I wanted to reorganize books today, and I figured while I was moving things around I might as well put them in stacks of To Be Imminently Read.

The top four are the last of my Driscoll-adjacent reads to see me through the end of August (I might end up doing Split Tooth before then, too!). Then some writing stuff for a Between Projects Palate Cleanser, and then Hench through One Hundred Years of Solitude is my gearing-up-for-NaNo stack (not featured: Vicious and Vengeful, currently boxed up, but will reread). Babel and Bitch Queen are for after NaNo!

[askagamedev]

Thoughts on the Bioware restructuration/lay-offs?

I've long said that any AAA game studio, no matter how strong, is always 2-3 flops in a row away from closure. Bioware did very well with Inquisition, but Mass Effect Andromeda and Anthem's sequential failures resulted in DA4 being their make-or-break release.

One factor was that 2024 was the first full year since 2012 that Bioware didn't have SWTOR on their books anymore - SWTOR went over to Broadsword in late 2023. For the past decade, all of the money earned by SWTOR (which is significant, the game isn't growing but it does more than earn its keep) was considered in Bioware's accounting. That sizable income helps offset the money being burned in other areas like ME:A, Anthem, ongoing DA4 efforts, and other internal projects (like the many failed KOTOR 3 pitches) to the accountants and executives. Without SWTOR to inject additional cash over the year, the Veilguard costs look a lot worse to the money people.

DA4 itself was a bit of a mess during development too. The development of the project that eventually became Veilguard was actually restarted at least twice - they were already working on preproduction for DA4 as of late 2015. The process was long and arduous, and the finished game was... mid? It wasn't underwhelming, it wasn't overwhelming, it was just... whelming. Veilguard also made the somewhat controversial choice to hang everything on sales and not go with post-launch DLC to help monetize further. This gamble really did not pay off. Veilguard missed its sales target by 50%, which was the third nail in the coffin. Each of these failures seems to follow the same pattern - significant dev time spent going in circles because the leadership can't commit to core elements of the game, resulting in something thrown together at the end in order to ship something.

As a result of these issues, the Sword of Damocles that dangles above every studio fell on Bioware. While Bioware remains as a label and the next Mass Effect game continues development, Bioware as a studio is no longer a stand-alone entity capable of building a full game from start to finish like it used to be. Bioware is likely no longer going to have as much of a cohesive identity like it used to - it will be a label more than anything else. If Mass Effect gets a green light for full production, they'll likely have to "borrow" a bunch of floating developers from EA's other studios to build it out, then disperse those borrowed devs to other EA projects once it ships and leave a small team to incubate the next "Bioware" project, at least until they can get two sequential big hits again and warrant a larger injection of funding to start growing again.

My heart really goes out to all of those who are affected by this - the Veilguard devs were really behind the 8 ball when they started and the current economic situation in video games isn't good. I hope that they're able to find something soon, hopefully at a studio that makes better high level leadership decisions.

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[athenamikaelson]

Written in the Stars

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1

Word Count- 4.3k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)

A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.

The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.

I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.”

I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amused.

“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”

Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and oggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car. 

We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror. 

After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house. 

“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.

“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathetic look.

“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”

Theo’s look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”

As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.

“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”

I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion. 

“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”

My brother gives me a look that looks like he agrees about him getting into trouble and nods his head. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.

“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot. 

—

My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my book up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe to be, Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions with in my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself. 

Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk of rejection.

 Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her.

I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them. 

“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black. 

—-

“Y/N, can you hear me?”

A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom?  I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake!”

Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.

“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?”

She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat. 

My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance. 

“Elena, where are we?”

I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together. 

Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.

“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N. I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”

I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.

“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one, a habit I’ve picked up to ground myself whenever my anxiety gets too strong.

Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.

“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing, sleeping beauty?” 

The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me, on what I can see now is a couch, and blocks me from the man’s view.

“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.” 

I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now, being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future. 

“You’re right, Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?” 

Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye she’s shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I flinch at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him. I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go. 

“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old. 

“Just a taste, I’m starving.”

My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us. 

“Don’t touch her!”

Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest. 

My already shaking hand moves to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell. 

“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.”

A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace. 

“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?” 

I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.

“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.” 

I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.

“He’s here.”

The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.

The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.

“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head. 

“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.

“No! He wants me dead Rose,”

The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.”

I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears, that unbeknownst to me, had fallen on my cheeks. I’ve also realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.

The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel. 

“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming,” I whisper to her.

Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head. 

“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore.”

I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 110 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is. 

“What are we?”

The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down. 

“We’re family. Forever.” 

I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals. 

A loud knock startles all four of us. Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances, our hands still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide. 

The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.”

The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs.

—

What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face.

Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong.

We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to right in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement makes me lose my balance and I fall back onto the couch. 

No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible.

Oh god, I'm going to throw up. 

“And who is this?”

A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound.

Definitely going to throw up. 

“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.” 

Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster, who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man’s mouth opens and closes many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.

“You’re real.” 

Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once. 

The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time, “What is your name, Elskan?” 

I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me. 

“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.” 

Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural?

I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment. 

“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.”

I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face. 

“Who did this to you?” 

My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena, making her flinch.

“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from… um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.

“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena, who doesn’t look as nearly surprised as she definitely should be, given that this man just BIT HIMSELF. 

“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.” 

I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.

  “Good girl, Elskan.” 

Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?

Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing.

“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry,” Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator circles its prey. 

“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.

“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”

“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”

Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”

“I beg your forgiveness.”

The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.

“So granted.” 

The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man, decapitating him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me. 

“I’m going to-”

Vomit spurts from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me. Burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hair and hold it away from my face. I thought it was Elena, until Elijah’s voice sounds from beside me.

“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.” 

I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs, a fancy napkin, and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted, just disheartened. He wraps his hand in mine and stands me up. 

“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.

“No! What about the moonstone,” She questions him.

He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”

“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”

Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.” 

“It doesn’t work that way.”

Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”

Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, then rips it off. 

“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”

In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”

“What is it doing there?”

“It’s with Kathrine.”

The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively. 

“What was that,” He asks Rose.

“I don’t know.”

“Who else is in this house?’’

To which he gets the same response. 

Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moving from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but still keeps his hold on me. 

“Up here.”

“Down Here.”

Voices call from the top and bottom of the stairs catching all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” He warns her as he moves to the staircase. 

A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed. 

My vision is blurred for a moment, when it clears, I realize I’m now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway. 

“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.” 

The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs. 

“Do we understand each other?” 

“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. What the hell is she doing?!? But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move. 

“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”

“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.”

Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound of metal, and then a loud boom, and then I hear Elijah let out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leaves. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the peeling wallpaper in front of me. 

A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before. 

“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.

“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might’ve taken offense, but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong. 

“I think she’s over there.” 

Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. 

“What is happening Elena?” 

“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”

Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.

[jsmainblog]

spencer reid as ur bf headcannons!! ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

requests are always open <3

if these dont make sense im sorry bro TvT

warnings: none!

💗 - fluff

one thing about spencer is that he has never had a proper "normal circumstances relationship" like his past girlfriends where either short lived bc he met them whilst on a case or yk the maeve situation

bc of that i think hes kinda unsure and even more awkward in ur relationship at first

i defo headcannon spencer as on the autistic spectrum or having sensory issues!!!

so he's a little adverse to touch.

okay at first he was very adverse to touch

all u did at the start was hold hands and a little kiss here or there

which kinda freaked u out a little until he explained it and u were like "ohhh"

he warms up to u after a while :)

just sometimes he needs a little break

in my mind he's either very clingy or needs to have at least a 1m gap between u guys

as you probably know spencer has a coffee addiction bc of the late and disorganised hours he works

but i don't think he actually likes coffee he just dumps a bunch of sugar in there and hopes for the best

he strikes me as a hot chocolate kinda guy

but once u introduce him to the holy grail which is mochas he's obsessed and eternally grateful

spencer likes to write notes for u

he leaves them around ur apartment like in ur fridge or ur bedside table

they're usually very sweet messages on how he loves you so much or is wishing you a good day

his love languages are quality time and words of affirmation

he writes about u to his mom 😭

hes very sweet and very gentle and very loving towards you

he literally observes everything surrounding you so he always knows if somethings up

communication king!!!

loves holding hands and pinkies

loves cheek kisses

he doesn't really call u alot of petnames the occasional "angel" or "sweetheart" or "pretty" but he usually just calls you your nickname 80% of the time

coffee dates and bookstore dates!!!

he lets u wear his cardigans

he would pull a jess mariano and read a book u lend him or have recently read even if hes already read it

"you've read this before?" "about 40 times"

puts notes in the margins!!

they are usually very insightful notes but you stumble across the occasional sweet words or "i love yous"

[idiopathicsmile]

I've been thinking about American diner lingo lately.

Like, relaying an order for poached eggs on toast as “Adam and Eve on a raft.” Or “shingles with a shimmy and shake” for buttered toast with jam.

(I personally learned about this phenomenon as a very young child because we had a picture book where a bear and an elephant are roommates and temp workers and they get a job at a diner for a while. Couldn't tell you why this streamed back into my brain like a week ago, but here we are.)

I'm not sure I can articulate this but there is something so beautiful to me about it. We as a culture know so little about its origins—maybe the 1870s, maybe the 1880s—or even really why it exists.

Wikipedia (yes I wikipedia'd this, yes I feel actual embarrassment about the lack of academic rigor in this aimless tumblr post but also there is also just not a ton of information on the topic) suggests that some diner lingo might've been mnemonic devices for short order cooks to remember specific dishes but honestly scroll through any list and you'll find it mostly isn't that. What it reads like is bored food service workers, mostly in the 1920s through 1970s, looking for a way to amuse or at least entertain themselves.

Milk is “moo juice.” Jell-o becomes “nervous pudding.” Black coffee is “a mug of murk.”

Western history loves its individual heroes, but my guess is the practice arose organically at multiple luncheon spots across the US. We don't know the names of the servers and cooks who came up with the terms but a few of the terms have survived, in a fashion—as wider used slang (“Joe” for coffee), as a vintage-y affectation in quirky restaurants of the present, and in compendiums of self-consciously useless factoids (oysters wrapped in bacon are transmuted into “angels on horseback”). It's something about the ordinary people of the world of the past, the tiny fossils we leave behind without even knowing it. One unknown day in history, someone then working as a diner employee thought to call a tall stack of pancakes “Jayne Mansfield” because for some reason it made their day a little better, and this somehow caught on to the point where I can, without doing much work, still find multiple written sources insisting it happened. It wasn't a marketer or a CEO somewhere, it was just a bunch service workers passing the time and leaving the slightest little linguistic footprints behind.

I don't know. Imagine if one of your inside jokes from work was still being spread by offbeat trivia lovers a hundred years from now.

[sprunkisunshinesuburbia]

Resident List part I

These are edited forms of the town’s documents and bios written by council member Therman. We omit things that could be considered far too personal for us (The town council) to reveal without consent but are merely to make introductions easier for vistors or new residents.

Jevin Amyclides

Age: 57

Gender: Male, He/Him

Height: 6’7

Color: Royal Blue

Quiet and reserved, he seems quite intimidating to talk to with the cloak, the stern looking expression he generally has and well… Alot of assumptions (mainly of the cult variety… Honestly I don’t blame anyone for making them- You really have to be careful out there...Some of them are a bit— Misguided on the whole sacrifice idea… Especially about the Sun!)

But when I actually talked to him he seemed pretty apologetic for— Uh almost everything he seemed to think he did wrong. He’s a very kind shy person just maybe a bit awkward- I feel a little bad for him sometimes, he cares a lot about his son and seemingly others he doesn’t know well. (Got real worried when I stubbed my toe- It was a little silly of me to like double over-)

He keeps to himself mostly, but doesn’t seem to oppose being dragged into things. Even if he seems a touch uncomfortable about it. I hope people don’t push him too much because… I doubt he’d push back….

Sky Amyclides

Age: 14

Gender: Male, He/him

Height: 4’10

Color: Sky Blue

Mr. Amyclides’ son, He’s pretty protective of his father- (It sounds like they’ve been through… Alot out there.. whoof.) he’s usually around him and often is the first to pick up on his dad’s unease and will let you know when you’re overstepping.

He’s a very smart and capable kid no doubt but it seems he’s trying to grow up too fast- Drinks his coffee black but cringes at every sip kind of person. Not very trusting either… Very curt with his answers.

Though if there’s anything that can get him to open up- It’s bears, he collects plush ones and loves talking about wildlife! Tells me that he has a bunch of books on them and even writes his own observations. It’s cute!

Gray Reindola

Age: 21

Gender: Male, He/They

Height: 4’10

Color: Gray

He doesn't really come out his house too often aside from going to his job at the theater and filming nature and other things in the park- (Which is where I usually see him- I haven't really seen a movie in awhile... Never found the time to.) I've asked him about his fancy camera which he told me was from his mom and that he used it for his film classes- Like maybe twice? And just kept making short films with it afterwards. I was kind of surprised how much he actually was willing to talk until he looked behind him and just- Suddenly excused himself to leave. I was confused for a moment and realized Wenda was here. (And um... He didn't really leave in time to I think avoid her?) And it was the three of us on the bench. He'd stop talking and just.. Filmed a leaf, On the grass while making this low hum. It was awkward....

Wenda Wilely

Age: 22

Gender: Female, She/her

Height: 6’0

Color: White

She's... Interesting to say the least- Uh I actually have no idea what she likes- She just seems to show up and sort of insert herself into groups and joke around a bit! I mean her sense of humor is...Er... Making playful jabs at people. (At least I think that's what's intended? She made fun of my lisp and then when Gray kept filming that leaf- I don't know what her deal is???) I stayed as long as I could tolerate the jokes and then her.. Asking me questions about myself and avoiding my own- She's... Maybe just not used to this place (She's relatively new here- Came alongside Gray but he says he didn't know her before moving here. Only that they're from the same city.) Maybe she'll settle at some point? She's odd. I mean everyone's bound to be but... She scares me a little.... She also works at the theater with Gray and I can only hope they're actually good friends and I just can't read people as well as I thought-

Pinned Post << >> Part II

[thelostgirl21]

So, you are telling me that Jaskier used to wear outfits the color of the sea in Season 1...

That he constantly complains about his feet hurting, or struggling with keeping his footing while having to wear boots (is the problem his actual boots or a lack of early practice in life?!)...

That he got all excited at the thought that Geralt might catch him a fish to eat...

That a huge part of his identity and the pride he takes in himself is tied to his singing voice and abilities...

That his songs have been described as having the power to sing a king off his clothes...

That helping his best friend in the whole wide world bathe after rubbing soothing chamomile onto his lovely bottom is typical friendship behavior to him...

That he vulnerably asked for Geralt to get away for a while with him, and head to the (west?) coast, in the hopes that he might be able to prove himself a worthy [travel] companion (works whether you interpret the interest as romantic or queerplatonic).

And then he basically implied that (returning home with Geralt?) might be what would please him most.

That the very first thing he did after Geralt returned to him and got him out of his cell in Season 2, is take off his top and jump into the freaking nearest body of water!

That he's hypersensitive to the way people on land start stinking after a while (including himself), and will openly suggest they should bathe (or downright bathe them himself)!

That he talks with animals...

That you had him fall in love with a human prince in Season 3...

... then had him sing a song about a human prince that falls in love with a siren to Ciri right before you had him go meet with said prince, share his first kiss with him, and make love to him in a woodshed!

... only to show a clip from "Sirens of the Deep" revealing that the Netflix version of Jaskier is from

Bremervoord

a.k.a. The vassal state of Cidaris and one of the places that goes the furthest west into the sea on the Continent!

Bremervoord, with an economy running primarily on pearls fishing.

Bremervoord, the place where the story of Jaskier's Season 3 song, "A Little Sacrifice" takes place...

A place where a prince (though I think it's a duke in the actual short story) meets a siren, falls in love with her, and willingly leaves his human life behind to follow her at sea.*

*according to the song, at least! And I'm not sure it ends well for the prince of the song, because that part about him sinking to darkest night sounds a bit ominous if you ask me... The book's short story has a different conclusion.

You're basically telling me that Jaskier comes from a place on the coast that goes far into the sea to the west, a place where merpeople and humans occasionally interact, and that he didn't really feel like talking about where he's from, because he felt like the only way for him to ever be able to "become himself" was to leave his home behind...

... AND YOU EXPECT ME NOT TO LATCH ONTO THAT POPULAR MERMAN!JASKIER THEORY?!

OR INSTINCTIVELY START DEVELOPING A BUNCH OF HEADCANONS ABOUT IT?

For example :

What if Jaskier keeps repeating that "he's just a bard" not because he's actually dismissing how good, influential, or powerful he is...

... but because he chose to give up his tail to permanently become a human, and he doesn't like to be reminded that he doesn't quite "fully belong" with humanity, because there's something a bit different and "unique" about his singing.

What if, growing up as a merboy, he'd kept feeling like he was born in the wrong body and with the wrong species given his brethren's attitude about singing as an artform.

What if when merpeople sing, they typically rely on pure melodies without lyrics, and argue that only humans and other species of the land - with their inferior vocal capabilities - must rely on something as primitive as words and lyrics to inspire emotions and make ideas take root into other people's minds.

What if they do have a singing speech pattern, but when it comes to artistic expression, the songs are purely melodic.

But Jaskier, after listening to some of the folk songs that the local bards enjoy singing by the fire at the beach, often accompanied by a lute or other instruments, fell in love with the way the words of those songs flow and sound.

Perhaps he revealed himself to Essi then, and that, instead of being scared of him, she agreed to show him how to play the lute, speak her language, and sing the way humans do.

And when he did fully grasp the beauty and the power of using verbal poetry into songs, he knew he could never look back.

What if Essi was the first person to ever really see him for who he was and treat him as family, hence why he loves her like a little sister.

Maybe "the Lettenhoves" are basically a group of merpeople with no actual blood relation, that lost their own families and were rejected by them when they chose to make the full transition from merperson to human.

By pretending to be blood relatives, they've managed, however, to realistically pass as a large human noble family, acquire a bunch of lands and estates over the years that is passed to each new generation that wants them, and each new member is given a certain amount of money when they become one of the Lettenhoves to begin their new life on land!

They aren't extremely close, because they each have their own lives and personal ventures (very few go into singing careers), but they are still people that understand what being a human born at sea feels like, and that will be there to offer each other help and support if need be!

And so, Jaskier was able to go study at the University of Oxenfurt and learn as much of the human world and its arts as he could!

But, while his voice remains a bit more powerful and influential than most humans that were born on land, that influence comes with a "curse"...

Most people that instinctively fall under the charm of his melodies (note: Jaskier can use his voice to make an audience more susceptible to anger and annoyance when he sings, too. An especially useful skill to have when you're relying on food being thrown at you to eat... Hence why Geralt's lack of emotional response to his singing when they met was so intriguing!) will typically only care about how they make them feel, rather than how Jaskier himself was feeling when he wrote his songs.

Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri are all immune to his siren charms - and dwarves appear to be more resistant as well - but, while his songs inspire people, and hearing him sing them "live" with his actual voice tends to make people become instantly infatuated with him (or immediately hate him, should Jaskier wish to repel rather than attract them)...

... they rarely ever see him or seemingly attempt to connect with him on an intimate, emotional level, like they would with another human being.

And so, every time Jaskier is reminded of how much influence he appears to have over how people see the world when he uses his voice, Jaskier's tendency to remind them that he's "just a bard" is because he wishes people would connect with his humanity, too, rather than what he can do.

Regardless of him being able to pass as someone that was born on land and started his life in a fully human body, he knows that his voice will always carry some remnant of his siren abilities.

And that this difference appears to be preventing him from emotionally and physically connecting with other human beings that weren't born at sea like him, the way he wishes he could.

And so, that's why he was initially hesitant to sing for Radovid, and he kept insisting that he wasn't in a "singing mood" that day.

Because he knew that, the moment Radovid heard his singing voice, he might stop listening to him and trying to connect.

But there was something in the way Radovid insisted - while asking for Jaskier to pick his favorite song and showing a sincere curiosity about listening to what pleased him most - that made Jaskier ultimately choose to risk it.

And, while Radovid was obviously affected by the sound of his voice (to the point where he felt the need to pretend his speechlessness was caused by drunkenness), it was also very clear that he'd been listening.

Not only was his gaze very sharp and his eyes clear and bright while Jaskier was singing - seemingly attempting to analyse every note and word - but, for once, the things Radovid was complimenting him about weren't related to his ability to make people feel and experience things...

For once, what Radovid was claiming made Jaskier so special wasn't the beauty or power of his voice, or how catchy the melodies of the songs he'd sang to him were.

It wasn't even about how Jaskier's lyrics had made him feel.

He'd told Jaskier that what made him so special was his ability to see people for who they really are rather than who they pretend to be.

He'd essentially told him that his ability to truly comprehend those around him was his gift - that he had a unique ability to connect with them at the core... the very thing Jaskier had always felt that he was lacking.

And when Jaskier pushed him for more, all Radovid told him was that he didn't know yet, but was determined to figure it out.

"You connect strongly with others and my desire is to understand and connect with you."

That is what Radovid had taken away from who he was, even after having heard him sing, and Jaskier couldn't help but feel like he'd found a kindred spirit in that human.

Someone stuck in a world and a birth family that simply couldn't understand and accept him as he was - constantly hiding parts of himself to survive.

Radovid had then agreed to help him with the whole situation with Rience - despite the fact that Jaskier hadn't used any song to attempt to suggest he should, just genuinely asked for his help.

And - if that hadn't been enough - that prince had gone one step even further by asking him if Geralt knew how lucky he was to have him, after Jaskier had been singing about his self-worth issues when it came to relationships and his fear of never being good enough - or human enough - for a fellow human (or mutated human) partner.

He'd been listening to him.

He might have been born on land, and he might not have been immune to Jaskier's siren abilities, but Radovid still hadn't lost sight of who he was, nor been tempted to start obsessing about owning him or treating him like a prized possession.

And so, Jaskier tentatively begins to allow himself to hope...

Until Radovid does something truly unexpected that none of his prior human, elven or dwarven suitors or lovers had ever done before...

Learn his song.

Sirens are typically immune to the power that another siren's voices carry... until they fall in love.

One of the ways to know if a fellow merperson is alterously or romantically drawn to you is to sing back one of their own melodies to them, and see how they will respond.

Should they feel that instinctive, near irresistible pull towards the melody, and vice versa, then the two sirens will often start trying to discover and explore different ways they can learn to harmonize and use their voices to complement each other's, and create new shared melodies that will resound through the sea.

And, for the very first time in his life, Jaskier finally understands how people feel when they listen to him sing.

Despite the fact that the "siren's melody" being sung back to him is a human song he wrote, with human lyrics, accompanied by human instruments...

Despite the fact that Radovid himself is most definitely not a siren but very much human - fumbling a bit with Jaskier's lute, visibly nervous, too shy to allow his voice to rise above a whisper...

To Jaskier, it's the most beautifully mesmerizing "siren's melody" he's ever heard in his existence! It's filled with warmth, love, understanding, a promise of unconditional acceptance and safety...

It's absolutely intoxicating, he can barely breathe, feels like he's on the very edge of losing his sanity, and it takes all the power he has to avoid launching himself right at him!

And if a human can make him feel this way singing back to him a song filled with poetry and lyrics - rather than a classic, traditional siren's melody - then maybe there's never been anything wrong with Jaskier or the way he's always preferred to sing!

His people made him feel unwanted, but the sea never did! It probably would have been welcoming to a lute-playing merman singing like a bard, if his people hadn't been such close-minded arses!

Jaskier feels at home on land and has never once regretted his choice, but maybe he still has a right to also be a child of the sea, regardless of him having ultimately chosen a pair of legs over his fins!

And maybe Radovid would love to see parts of his old home some day - even if they can only access the surface of it, rather than go explore everything hidden in the water's depths (unless Yennefer has a spell that would allow Radovid to breathe under water as he does. Because Jaskier would never trust a sea witch with Radovid's life!).

And if Jaskier himself can be mesmerized by Radovid's song and feel like he would let that man lead him anywhere and do whatever he wants with him, without any desire to own and control him; maybe he'd simply been trying to connect with the wrong people.

Radovid is the first person he's ever met that seems to be able to connect with both the human and the siren part of him. And when Jaskier offers to help him work on his lute playing and singing, what he's truly saying is that he wants them to learn to harmonize their voices together and create their own melodies...

It's an intimate need Jaskier still has, and he's finally found himself a mate that appears to fully get him, and be able to fulfil those needs.

Of course, then the whole mess with Cirilla happens, and for a moment there Jaskier loses faith that any of it was ever real!

Who was he kidding!? The Redanian Intelligence kept insisting that they knew everything about everyone! Maybe they'd figured out Jaskier used to be a merman, done their research, noticed that Jaskier "fancied" the prince, and instructed him to surprise him and trick him into lowering his defenses, by courting him the way a fellow merman would!

He really should have known!

But then, when he finds Radovid alone, lost, and hiding, he realizes that Radovid had never meant to trick or hurt him.

Radovid had just been genuinely afraid, and trying to deal with the threat of a looming war as best he could by seeking Ciri's help.

And now, the war he'd attempted preventing from happening had begun, he'd clearly internalized Jaskier's earlier blame, and that spoon of a man was sufficiently bonded to him by now that he might just allow himself to be captured and killed if he doesn't do something about it!

And then, Jaskier himself might end up symbolically 'washing ashore' somewhere and letting himself die of heartbreak, for fuck's sake!

Because merpeople are dramatic as fuck and they feel the loss of friends and family in a way that's devastatingly sharp. Being rejected by a queerplatonic or romantic partner - or having them die on them - is the worst type of injury one could inflict upon them!

When he'd sung about having also survived, no thanks to Geralt, he'd fully meant it! That loss had nearly killed him!

If he wants to survive this, he needs to figure out a way to keep Radovid safe, and then make sure that Geralt and the rest of his family are safe also, because he doesn't know how he'd manage to continue to live in this world if the war ends up taking everything from him in a way where all hope would be lost of ever getting any of them back!

[saekkas]

𝟏𝟗𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

summary: you’re not a believer in airport crushes. you think the theory that people look better when you’re bound to never see them again is delusional. that is, until fushiguro megumi comes and proves you wrong.

tags: 1.1k wc | f!reader | narration heavy | open ending | nobara and yuuji are the best wing men | strangers to potential lovers | very romanticized | megumi has green eyes here, as stated in the manga | for plot's sake, pretend it isn't weird to call him 'gumi' right off the bat

notes: megumi finally debuts on saekkas (clap clap). also, this may or may not be inspired by real life events hehe

early mornings have never been your forte. the wind bites your cheeks, prickling your skin with goosebumps that range all the way from your arms down to your legs. even the hoodie you’re wearing– the thickest, comfiest one you own, doesn’t help shield you from the elements.

it doesn't help that the air conditioner is on full blast.

“i swear to god,” you mumble, expression souring as strong winds crash against the airport’s ceiling high windows. in the distance, trees sway around erratically, crashing against each other as the sky turns a bleak gray. “if a hurricane comes, at least let it hit after my flight takes off.”

the line to check in is unnaturally long and it takes almost half an hour until you’re seated at the gate, an hour early before your flight departs. better safe than sorry, your mother always said.

the seating area is nothing but crowded, and as pregnant mother tries to calm her baby’s wails by swaddling him in blankets, you curse yourself for booking economy. a private longue with wifi and food sounds good right now.

tucking yourself into the furthest seat from the wailing baby, you breath out a sigh. your legs have been killing you for the past hour and you have no one to blame but yourself for not choosing more comfortable shoes.

there’s minimal noise in the area, being that it is far more secluded from the others. the only sounds you can hear are of footsteps and bickering from the trio sitting right across from you. one of the boys, the one with pink hair and a red hood over his head, is in what looks to be the deadliest game of rock-paper-scissors you’ve ever seen with a girl that has short brown hair.

your eyes flicker towards the last of the bunch– a boy who looks like he’s around your age with an unruly mess of hair on top of his head. he’s calm, minding his own business with a book in his lap, and legs crossed elegantly. the sweater he wears is black, oversized, and the fabric looks to be so soft.

you’re not a believer in airport crushes. you think the theory that people look better when you’re bound to never see them again is delusional.

you might just eat your own words because he’s actually cute.

you don’t know how many times your eyes have gravitated towards him in the past hour, but you know it’s probably enough to tip his friends off. from the corner of your eye, you see the girl nudge him repeatedly before very obviously pointing your way.

at first, he ignores her– goes back to reading his book like she’s a fly buzzing around his head. he’s probably used to it, you muse to yourself, chuckling in your head.

and then you feel it. the pinpricks of his stare. so pointed and sharp now that it’s directed at you.

the notes app is your only friend as you type against the screen of your phone. you feel stupid– like a schoolgirl who’s just been noticed by her crush, trying to seem busy as if you haven’t been staring at him for god knows how long.

when he looks away from your general direction, you lift your head– trying to get a glimpse of his side profile for, what you promise yourself to be, the last time.

only to meet his gaze straight on.

you hear his friends snicker, nudge their elbows against him as you look to the side, too embarrassed to even think of looking in his direction again. you hear his voice, low and smooth as he snaps, trying to make them stop. they only tease him more.

you hear the name megumi, picture the shy smile that spread on his lips before stiffening, quickly getting up from your seat when the intercom calls your flight number.

the staff are quick to usher the crowds of people into a neat line, herding passengers to their respective gates. your feet move on autopilot, making your way towards the double doors that lead to your plane.

you only stop when someone calls your name, waving frantically as they push through the people to get to you.

megumi stands in front of you, hair even more tousled than before. there’s a bead of sweat on his forehead that slides down the side of his neck and into his sweater. his eyes are green, reminding you of the forest, a piece of jade, and the color of your passport holder in his hand.

“you forgot this.” he holds the official document against his chest before handing it over to you. his fingers brush against yours, delicate and neatly trimmed, before they clench into a fist by his side. “you left it on your seat.”

“right,” you mumble, the sound wispy as if your own breath had been sucked out from your lungs. you bow your head in gratitude while simultaneously trying to shake away the daze clouding your thoughts. “thank you. i owe you one.”

the silence that stretches after is nothing if not awkward. you’re looking anywhere but him, and he’s doing the same. the staff guarding the gate watch– clearly gossiping about your little interaction with the male in front of you.

after a while, megumi nods once before turning back towards his seat, a muffled safe flight leaving his lips.

that's it?

you watch as he strides away, some parts confused and disappointed. his friends wear the same expression as you do, the girl practically screeching into his ear while the boy tries to push him back towards your direction.

megumi doesn’t budge, stone faced as he sits in between them. returning to his book as if nothing significant has happened.

maybe some things just aren’t meant to be.

you send the duo a wave, smiling when they do the same, before showing the staff your ticket and passport, heading straight down the gate, and boarding the plane.

you won't see him again anyway.

it’s only when you’re seated on a train, a thousand miles away from where you were, gazing out of the window as it speeds across Tokyo that you finally see a note slipped into your passport, one containing his full name and number.

i think you’re pretty. my friends think you’re cool. would you like to get dinner some time? – megumi fushiguro.

your pointer finger traces his handwriting, neat and cursive, and you let out a giggle because for whatever reason, it feels exactly like him.

to: cute sea urchin

[13:57] hey. it's the girl from the airport. [13:58] is sushi okay? it's my treat! i owe you one after all.

from: cute sea urchin

[14:23] yeah, anything's fine with me. see you.

to: cute sea urchin

[14:37] cool! can't wait to see you again, gumi!

[malk1ns]

january 5 @ hurricanes, 4-3 OT loss

i cannot believe the season is halfway done. i can't believe i've actually written a fic for every single game, for forty-one games. that's crazy. thanks so much to everyone reading along, the comments and tags you leave really do encourage me to keep going—it's hard to work on a big project like this with no positive reinforcement! i love and appreciate you all <3

playing carolina might be boring AF but at least we got this picture of of it, hey? geno is so much bigger than sid it's truly ridiculous.

Sid isn’t very good at hiding what he’s feeling.

Zhenya knows about the narrative, how a Sidney Crosby quote is a lot of words but when you go back and actually read what he said it’s a whole bunch of nothing. That’s probably true; Zhenya doesn’t make a habit of looking up his teammates’ media spots. Answering his own questions and sitting for interviews is enough exposure to reporters, thank you very much.

But long before Zhenya and Sid spoke the same language, Zhenya was able to read Sid like a book.

Sid’s not subtle. When he wants something from you, you’ll know.

And when they’re getting ready to go out for overtime at the Lenovo Center, when Sid ducks his head and looks up at Zhenya through his eyelashes, Zhenya knows exactly what he wants.

It’s nice to catch up with Staalsy after they play the Hurricanes; frankly, it’s Zhenya’s favorite part about facing this damn team. Jordy’s waiting for them outside the visitor’s locker room after Sid is finally done with his cooldown, and they duck down a quiet hallway to chat. Partway through the conversation, Zhenya slings an arm over Sid’s shoulders, casual as anything, and smothers a smirk when Sid not-so-subtly tucks himself into Zhenya’s side.

Jordy doesn’t notice anything. He’s always been oblivious. It’s something Zhenya always appreciated about him. Kris gives them a hairy eyeball, but after so many years he knows when to feign ignorance, even if he’s far more observant than Jordy ever was.

Sid behaves himself on the way back to Pittsburgh. He keeps his hands to himself on the plane, sticking his earbuds in and zoning out on whatever podcast series he’s hooked on this month.

Zhenya taps his way through a few rounds of solitaire, nudging Sid with his knee when the plane begins its descent. When they’re deboarding and Sid makes to grab for his stuff, Zhenya bullies him out of the way, pulling both their bags down from the overhead compartment and slinging them over his shoulders.

Sid goes pink.

Their drive back to Sewickley is quiet, Zhenya navigating the dark streets carefully with one hand spread over Sid’s thigh. Sid’s parents are still in town, will be through the upcoming homestand, so Zhenya takes them up the hills back to his place, pulling into the driveway and throwing Sid’s Range Rover in park.

He crowds behind Sid as they walk into the house, dropping their bags as soon as they clear the threshold so he can get his hands on Sid’s hips, steering him to the staircase over Sid’s protests that they need another protein shake before bed.

(He refrains from making the obvious joke.)

Sid drops his feigned reluctance as soon as they get to the bedroom, turning in Zhenya’s arms and wrapping his arms around Zhenya’s neck, tugging him down for a kiss.

The first time Sid kissed Zhenya, it took both of them by surprise. It was Zhenya’s second year in the league, and not even any sort of special occasion—they’d just beaten Boston in TD Garden, a hard-won shootout on the first half of a back-to-back with travel in the slog leading up to their too-short Christmas break. He and Sid both had to do media, courtesy of Geno’s two goals and Sid’s three points, and they were the last ones in the locker room after they finally escaped to do their cooldown and get showered.

Zhenya was fumbling with his tie when Sid crossed the room, got up on his toes, and smeared a kiss across Zhenya’s mouth.

They didn’t talk about it for months. There were games to win, after all, and playoffs to push for. They were both determined to have a better showing than they had last season. It wasn’t until after they had to watch the Red Wings raise the Stanley Cup in their own building, after locker clean-out and the last media of the season, that Sid showed up at Zhenya’s door with a determined look on his face.

Their second kiss hadn’t been any more artful than the first. It didn’t take them long to get good at it, though.

Really good. They’ve taken breaks throughout the years, arguments and ego and fear of the future sending one or both of them stomping away from the relationship, and Zhenya’s seen plenty of girls stumble out of dark corners with Sid looking dazed with swollen mouths. He kisses like the world is ending, all-consuming and intense, and Zhenya’s more than happy to fall into it every time.

Sid doesn’t want to just kiss tonight, though. His hand sneaks down and squeezes at Zhenya’s dick through his dress pants, and Zhenya cants his hips forward, letting Sid grope him.

“Fuuuck,” Sid groans, pulling back and looking down between them. Zhenya follows his gaze.

Sid’s not a small guy. He’s broad, with thick arms and legs and big, capable hands, clever fingers that are adept at taking Zhenya apart. His hand on Zhenya’s dick where it’s straining at the fabric, though, looks almost small.

“Jesus,” Sid mutters, stroking a thumb over the head. Zhenya shivers as his dick twitches.

They’re clumsy as they undress, the late hour and a long, heavy game slowing their reflexes, but eventually their clothes are in a pile at the foot of the bed and Zhenya has Sid stretched out on the mattress, pinning his hands over his head with one hand around both wrists.

Sid takes a deep breath, testing Zhenya’s grip. Zhenya watches his throat bob as he swallows and tightens his thighs where they’re around Sid’s hips.

“You’re stay put,” he says to Sid, half an order and half a question, and he can see his words register, leaching into Sid’s body and dropping all the tension from his muscles.

Sid’s hard between them already, dick curving up toward his belly button and damp at the head, and when Zhenya curls his hand around it Sid gasps, craning his chin down so he can look.

Sid’s hands might be big compared to a regular guy, but Zhenya’s put his to shame, and Sid’s dick looks small in his grasp.

Zhenya knows that turns Sid’s crank, even though he’ll never admit to it. Hockey players are all the same, after all, and none of them are going to own up to getting off on their dick looking small, but Zhenya’s never needed Sid to actually say anything to know what he wants.

Sid likes how much bigger Zhenya is than him. He likes the way Zhenya’s hands span his waist like it’s dainty, the way he fits under Zhenya’s arm like Zhenya’s girlfriends used to.

He especially likes Zhenya’s dick.

Zhenya lifts up a little and shifts so that Sid can spread his legs, settling between them and rubbing his dick over Sid’s balls and shaft. Sid props himself up on his elbows, mouth open as he pants for air, hitching his hips up to meet Zhenya’s movements. 

Zhenya spares a moment for regret that they don’t have time to fuck properly until the homestand is over. Sid’s so tight, even after all these years, and sinking into him is the closest to a religious experience that Zhenya’s ever had.

He props his forearms on either side of Sid’s head, leaning down so he’s completely covering Sid’s body, pressing their chests together as he mouths at Sid’s neck. Sid always leaks so much, like the second he gets even a little worked up he’s ready to bust, which means they don’t need lube when they do this.

When they were younger, they used to get off like this every spare minute they had, sneaking off to spare rooms and rubbing up against each other until they came. It only took one instance of having to misappropriate a fancy hand towel in Billy Guerin’s guest bathroom for Zhenya to start carrying around a handful of tissues in his back pocket for quick clean-ups.

They usually take their time now, luxuriating in the privacy of their own homes and the improved technique that comes with experience, but sometimes Zhenya likes to make it quick and dirty, likes to get Sid panting and begging for dick underneath him.

Zhenya can’t give it to him tonight. The waiting will make it better when they have time, though.

Sid’s getting close. His thighs are trembling where they’re locked around Zhenya’s waist, and he’s tossing his head back and forth, little uh-uh-uhs pushing from his chest as he arches his back.

Zhenya pushes himself up a little and rests his hand on Sid’s neck, curling his fingers and pressing his thumb to the hinge of Sid’s jaw. Not much, not enough to actually do anything, but his hand looks enormous at Sid’s throat, and when he increases pressure the tiniest bit, Sid gasps and comes with a shout.

He’s still shivering through his orgasm when Zhenya drags his dick over Sid’s groin, smearing come into his pubic hair, and groans as he finishes on Sid’s stomach.

“Damn,” he says, rolling off to one side. Sid tucks them together, yanking Zhenya’s arm until his hand is splayed low over Sid’s belly.

It’s sticky and kind of gross. Zhenya rubs their come into Sid’s skin, ignoring Sid’s protest.

His hand really does look huge on Sid’s body. Normally he doesn’t think too much about it; he’s aware of how tall he is, how big his dick is, and those facts on their own don’t do much for him. He’s happy to go along with what Sid wants—seeing Sid get off on something is what gets him hottest.

Sid’s a grower, though, and when he’s soft Zhenya can cover his entire groin with his palm.

Sid grunts as Zhenya fondles him, wincing and over-sensitive, but Zhenya ignores it, rolling Sid’s balls in his fingers and palming his soft member.

Yeah, he sees the appeal.

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Well since you said it…

Ponyboy Curtis head canons and, if possible, cherry head canons 😁

I'll do Cherry later this weekend, but for now here's some Ponyboy headcanons!

-Has tried to quit smoking multiple times, usually because Darry wants him to, and never succeeded. The second he gets even the tiniest bit stressed he’s got a cigarette lit and back in his mouth. At this point he's pretty much accepted he's locked in for life

-Had to get glasses and HATES them so Darry pulled some overtime and got him contacts

-Worries a lot about Darry, not just because he tries to carry too much roofing at once and regularly hurts his back, but also because he’s terrified of what could happen if Darry was to somehow slip off a roof

-His middle class school friends think he’s REALLY cool (like Pony, they’re all a bunch of nerds) and Pony loves it because the entire gang very much does not

-His school friends are also TERRIFIED of the gang, like they see Two-bit or Steve coming to talk to him and hightail it out of there. They’re even scared of Johnny which Ponyboy thinks is hilarious (he doesn’t realize that Johnny’s dark gaze and bruises are terrifying to someone who doesn’t know how he got them)

-Thinks Curly Shepard is the funniest person alive and is determined that Curly never find that out

-Cannot for the life of him figure out why Johnny and Curly don’t get along

-Tutored Two-bit in English so he could finally graduate

-The gang is split between those who are determined to be a good influence on Pony and those who aren’t. Dally and Two-bit are the bad influences, Johnny tries to be a good influence, and Steve claims to not give a fuck but is the best influence of all in that he’s never let/asked/encouraged Pony to take part in illegal activities 

-Pony thinks Curly Shepard is good looking in a dangerous way. Real good looking in fact.

-Is NOT afraid of girls no matter what that Johnny Cade says (I mean it man I ain’t SCARED of them, they just don think like us, and quit you’re laughing, it ain’t like you have any luck with girls either-)

-Is TERRIFIED of Tim Shepard 

-Is also terrified of Angela Shepard because even though she has the same eyes as Curly, her's are like a snakes, all cold, emotionless and deadly, whereas Curly’s are always twinkling with ether mischief or anger

-He’s actually really good at stealing things (Two-bit taught him well), he just doesn’t do it often because he feels bad about it. But if a shop employee is rude to him he’s no holds barred and could leave with like half the store under his coat

-Can get away with literally ANYTHING in his English class after he gave Mr. Simes his theme, and uses that fact to his advantage

-Regularly falls asleep in his math class but manages to talk his teacher out of calling Darry every time

-He and Darry have the same taste in literature and regularly share/discuss books. It bores Soda to the point where he jokingly tells them to go back to arguing all the time because it was at least more entertaining to listen to

-Steps on peoples heels when he walks behind them

-HATES country music so fucking much and if Johnny plays that goddamn country record ONE more time-

-Is determined to make sure neither of his older brothers find our just how much time he spends with Curly Shepard

-Cut the blond out of his hair as soon as he possibly could, even though it made his hair shorter than he liked because he hated the light colour more than he hated the short length

-Has the worst poker face known to man but is actually decent at poker (because he cheats, but unlike Sodapop he’s good at cheating so he rarely gets caught)

[gamerbearmira]

My Take On Wish

I liked it. Now, it’s not the best. But it’s still pretty good in hindsight. They had a good idea, but they executed it poorly.

I think a big reason is the movie had such high expectations. It was the movie for the 100th anniversary, which is huge. But they had no time and no money. The movie feels rushed, there's so much that happens too fast in such a short amount of time. That brings me to my next point.

Time. This movie should have been longer. Of the most recent movies, like Turning Red, Encanto, Luca and Elemental, they run for about 1 hr and 35-49 minutes. But they don't feel rushed. Everything us spaced out and works, at least for the most part. Every movie has it flaws in run time. Wish runs for the same amount of time as Encanto; but it feels so much more rush. The movie should have been longer, and I feel like people wouldn't have been too made at an extra 20 to 30 minutes. It would've given a lot more to world and established things, and answer questions that were left unanswered.

Characters. They weren't bad! They had some good characters, and the designs were...good. I like them, and I can see what they were doing. Like Magnifico and Amaya, I really like their designs! Same with the teens (save for a few things, mostly color, but I digress). Valentino is cute, but I don't like how they gave him a deep voice. Asha and Star? They're ok, at best. Looking at the concept art in the book, there was SO much potential that they didn't use.

Asha looks a lot like Isabela. It's a running joke. But the closer I look, she looks too much like her. Literally, if you look in the book, you can see that she actually had a floral dress that seemed a little too similar to Isabela's. The thing is, she had a lot of other really good designs, which I used in the redesign below, among other things. Star, he's cute but...it's sad. He was so obviously going to be a love interest. AND YES DISNEY. IT'S OK TO HAVE A HEROINE FALL IN LOVE. I took one of his designs that nearly stuck and tweaked it a little. He still has a star form, for other purposes.

The songs. They were ok, but I'm sort of understanding the joke if "They were written by ChatGPT". They sound so empty? But when you listen to the demos they sound better. That brings me to "At All Costs". I heard it in the movie. It's sung by Magnifico and Asha, when it was so obviously meant to be sung by Asha and her love interest, which would have been Starboy. And the demo is actually really good.

For my redesigns? I changed quite a but on Asha. Her friends are supposed to be like the seven dwarves. So why in the world didn't they utilize Snow White for Asha? I'm not saying she had to be a carbon copy, but jeez, it would've been nice. In my design, I gave her a mix of other dresses she had in the book, changing it a bit to look like snow white's but still being original. I changed the colors, toning them to be more similar to Wish's colors.

Valentino stayed entirely the same. I saw that he was originally he was going to be much larger, pretty much grown. So, I took that and gave him a sister. They aren't really "siblings, Valentina was born way before Valentino, but he's always following behind her, so Asha deemed them "honorary siblings". And I mostly wanted Asha to have more animals around her, like Snow White.

Star is still Star, but he also has a human form. In my opinion, it wouldn't be very present until later in the story. The more tine he spends around Asha, the more he feels more comfortable using it to help Asha. And also, he wants to be like Asha. He loves humans, and watches them from the sky all the time. He may or may not be the North Star. I'm still debating.

Maybe I'll do more with other characters.

Story. I want to try a rewrite. Not now, cause I still have a bunch of Encanto that I'd want to finish, but definitely in the future. I may do more Wish posts on my designs and what I'd worldbuild with some ideas were:

Asha is already Magnifico's apprentice.

Magnifico used the book before he founded Rosa, and built Rosa to take people's wishes for his power under the guise of what he does in the movie currently. He keeps some wishes alive to grant them. No one knows, not even Amaya. Asha finds out. This means he's evil from the start and stays evil. No redemption. No return.

Wishes affect a person not just emotionally, but slightly mentally and sometimes physically. When ita given away, the person feel not just an emptiness, but also heaviness in their body physically.

Amaya is a bit more morally gray, being in Magnifico's side, and even helping him, but slowly shifting to Asha after seeing what he's doing.

Star plays a bigger role much earlier on. The Teens do as well. I feel like they had no character in the movie. Not even Dahila, who I do I love.

It's closer to Asha's birthday. So when she finds out about Magnifico, she's scared of losing her wish, and being unable to restore everyone else's that was already lost, like her Saba's.

Asha may or may not have a staff like Magnifico's. But like?? A training staff??

Magnifico may or may nit being trying to corrupt Asha with the book. She is subject to hus magic still, and sometimes it seeps into her mind, but Star is there to counter it.

Star is much stronger in terms of magic, enough to be on par, or almost on par with Magnifico.

TL;DR: I like Wish. But it has flaws. I wanna try my hand at a rewrite one if these days.

[tapwater118]

bfdia 17 and tpot 15 spoilers

bfdia 17

needle’s votes were counted separately, which means pencil is out, which is sad but also funny because now she gets to host with the rest of the wtfers. oh yeah they get to host now! i love that, also balloony just warpdriving out killed me. loved the mini freesmart reunion

fries actually taking the immunity was also a welcome surprise, we didnt really need pin to get tortured more this late in the season. i also guess at this point there isnt really gonna be a merge so much as a bunch of singleton teams, buts thats fine imo. coinpin :)

loved all the little cameos in the mall, very fun. also leafy! didnt really have too much screen time but oughhh they were teasing her for so long i almost lost hope. so very close to the first ever bookleaf interaction

the main event of course is tennis ball and nickel’s excellent adventure. if i had a nickel for every time a random donut line from bfb was justified by bfdia i would have two nickels: past nickel and future nickel. its nickel’s fault gaty got eliminated btw he lured that bug up there. he also caused all of tpot 15 by kicking the yoylite into the future so THANKS BUDDY

overall very funny episode! as much as i hate to say it i think needle is going to go here, she was very close to elimination last time and she also didn’t really have much to do this time. nickel is also a solid possibility due to him destabilizing the fabric of spacetime, which sources tell me is not a very “cash money” thing to do

anyway time for The Horrors

tpot 15

nickel i am going to throttle you

i predicted basketball was gonna be out but it doesnt mean im happy about it. also tree staying in over robot flower was a shock, i thought people really liked her?? poor thang her self esteem is in the toilet now. at least they got to fly away on a dragon to get lesbian married together

i love love love how theyre using the rejects more its wonderful (the pda short was definitely a test to see if people would like the rejects as characters im sure of it). itrd trying to replace firey to make himself relevant inadvertently made relevant from people editing him over firey i love it

ive seen people say they dont like the time travel but me? im eating this up its so good, wonderfully silly depiction of the butterfly effect, its perfect for bfdi. the host continuously being changed was a wonderful bit, and host with a screen! there were so many callbacks for the bfdi geeks in the crowd (me), i hope they do more with the tfi style it is so nice to watch

PENCIL CRASH OUT ARC TO RING IN THE NEW YEAR HALLELUJAH thank you one for getting her on the show. actually this crash out and the resulting timeline devastation is the exact reason one rigged pencil to get it. poor pencil man she needs friends

the finale of the episode with everyone huddling together as reality falls apart honestly got to me. icy running over to me with book is everything to me. her last moments and she chooses to spend them with book sndbejuxhsbansn

ok uh elimination predictions probably tree from dpya but maybe marker?? idk maybe his fans wont like him green. from team two i would like it to be grassy but i know hes gonna get the most votes again somehow. sorry taggy it might be your time to go

idk how to end this

[gilbirda]

Friendly neighborhood vigilante. Chapter 25

BatmanxDP crossover. JasonxJazz

[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]

Based on this post

First chapter || << Previous chapter || Next chapter >>

---

“So you are saying that the Infinite Realms’ government is organized like a dungeons and dragons party?”

Danny snorted and patted Tim’s shoulder. “Jazz’s idea, actually.”

From where she was quietly talking with Bruce, Jazz huffed. “I never said it was a dungeons and dragons party. I only suggested the organization that fit our strengths better.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Potato, potahto.”

Jazz rolled her eyes, but went back to her discussion.

The group was walking towards the gardens, where a light lunch was served. Time went by as the Waynes asked anything and everything about the Realms and their rulers, now that there were no more secrets between them. They talked about Sam and Tucker and Valerie and even about Danielle, her origins and how she joined the team included.

The Fenton siblings enjoyed oversharing in a way that felt weird to the vigilantes, so used to hiding and concealing their thoughts all the time. Now that they were more comfortable, Danny and Jazz didn’t hesitate to act more inhuman around them, with the younger sibling floating when he got excited as if it was the more normal reaction.

It reminded Bruce of his colleagues in the Watchtower break room goofing around and using their powers for the stupidest reasons.

When Tim rejoined them, this time alone, he was more annoyed about losing the bet than missing the ghost royalty status reveal. Danny thought that was the funniest thing, and gladly started a new stream of oversharing information about Jazz’s princess status and all the titles she held, ignoring his sister’s attempts at silencing him.

They didn’t even notice lunch time approaching until Alfred reminded everyone in the house that they had to eat — yes, even their inhuman guests. The last part was added with a pointed glare and a short nod before the man walked away.

So now they were making their way to lunch, which was served outside given the nice weather despite being way into fall, chatting about Team Phantom and their roles in detail.

“So Sam is like the Barbarian of the team?” Tim pressed on. “And Tucker is the Artificer.”

Jazz huffed again.

“We are not—”

“Actually, is not that far from the truth,” Danny chuckled, “but not exactly just that. All of us are at least trained in one main duty and act as a backup for someone else. That guarantees that if one of us has to leave, nothing will be left unattended.”

“Like with Jazz being here.”

He nodded. “Jazz helped Tucker with all the record keeping and research in magical theory, as well as diplomacy and ghost law studies. Valerie helped Jazz with her main duties, and so on and so forth.”

“Magical theory?” Jason asked, one eyebrow arched. “Ghost law?”

“Sounds cool but it's actually just reading a bunch of books and trying to guess what they say.” Danny grumbled, rubbing his face. “I swear there is nothing that can make me pass out faster than reading those fuckers.”

“That’s because you don’t do your homework. Dorathea is a very good teacher.” Jazz chimed with a mocking smile.

Duke interrupted when Danny jumped to answer. “You said that the books weren’t Jazz’s main duty, so what is it?”

The young woman tensed for a second before putting on a gentle smile. It didn’t fool anybody, though. “I am—”

“Jazz.”

She turned towards her brother. “What?”

“Jazz, look.”

She frowned at his serious tone, the boyish glee gone completely, but turned to look at what he was pointing at.

It was a giant painting on the other wall of the room they just passed by, which was featuring a small family — a woman, a man and a child. All three were wearing nice clothes, serene smiles for the portrait.

“What’s the matter?” Bruce stepped closer to see what they were seeing, tensing when he realized what it was. “Why are you pointing at my parents’ portrait?”

The siblings looked at each other. “That’s your mother?” Jazz finally asked.

The look Bruce gave her was equal parts worried and calculating. “Indeed.”

Again Danny and Jazz talked to each other with facial gestures and looks.

“It can’t be.” Danny murmured. “Can it?”

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Hey.” Jason grabbed Jazz’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

She glanced at her brother, frowning. She licked her lips and drew a long breath. “That’s Lady Gotham.”

One second passed by. Two seconds.

“No, that’s my mother.”

Dick giggled at the absurdity of the situation.

“Could she be wearing someone’s face?” Jazz ignored Bruce’s quiet breakdown to talk to her brother. “Or is it like ‘the Spirit passes down ownership’ kind of situation?”

Danny hummed. “I don’t think it is the second case,” he crossed his arms, “she felt like an Ancient and this woman couldn’t have been dead that long.”

“Are you saying that an ancient spirit is wearing my mother’s face?” The older man said, voice small. Even Jason frowned at the weakness in his tone.

Jazz seemed to snap back to reality and noticed that the conversation may not be the best given current company. She sighed. “We don’t know. Maybe. Was your mother special in any way for this city?”

“Are you kidding? Haven’t you heard about the Martha Wayne foundation? Or all the charity stuff in her name?” Tim scoffed. “Do you live under a rock?”

Jazz blushed. “I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I don’t pay that much attention to current events outside my work and Crime Alley.”

Jason pretended to try to hide his smile in Jazz’s hair as he pulled her for a side hug.

Danny made a face at the pair, shook his head and turned towards Bruce. “We can’t be a hundred percent sure, but it’s not unheard of for an ancient Spirit to change their appearance. It’s usually to fit in as time passes; but taking the face of a real person from their hunt?” He tilted his head, and Jason noticed the similarity with his sister. It was adorable. “That’s a new one for me.”

“We can always ask?” Jazz tried to move past her misstep.

“Do you really think she’d want to talk about that?”

“Maybe. If we ask nicely.” Neither sibling actually believed these words.

Bruce blinked slowly and started walking again, lost in thought. The rest followed as if nothing even happened.

“Is she really that scary?” Duke asked.

“She is…,” Danny started, rubbing the back of his neck, “she is surely something else. This city is cursed, man; so it doesn’t surprise me that the Spirit overseeing this place is just as cursed.”

“What Danny is trying to say,” Jazz jumped in, “is that the Spirit of Gotham has been deeply corrupted and, well, she’s definitely in pain, and sometimes she lashes out.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” her brother scoffed, shaking his head and not looking at anybody. “I don't know what nice and watered down version of the story Jazzy here told you guys but when we first came here, she was pissed. King or no King, she was ready to kill me.”

Jazz blushed again. “I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” Danny rolled his eyes.

She looked like she had something to say, but chose to close her mouth and ignore the chuckles.

They finally arrived at the nice backyard patio where a table was already set up for lunch. Alfred walked around the table with his cart, setting down the plates and giving the finishing touches to the display.

Nobody missed his little smile watching them naturally divide in groups and sit down together, his eyes lingering on Jason refusing to let go of his girlfriend’s hand even under said girlfriend’s brother's snarky comments about it.

It had been a while since the Manor was filled with noise like this. It felt… alive. Like how it was supposed to be.

The old man quietly grabbed his cart and went back inside to plate the second course for the meal. He didn’t glance at the moving shadows and the trickster reflections on the corner of his eyes — after so many decades serving at this Manor, this family, he got used to not being exactly alone inside those walls.

***

“I don’t know how you are going to break it to Frighty.”

Jazz froze mid bite, frowning as she swallowed the food. “What do you mean?”

Bruce raised his eyebrows at Danny’s shocked expression. The young man looked around the table, maybe looking for support or an explanation, but he probably forgot they just met that morning.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Jazz, Fright Knight has been courting you for around a year.”

Tim froze, glancing up to see Jason’s reaction. Expecting loud shouting to start, he was even more shocked when Jason leaned back on his seat and crossed his arms with a giant smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” Jazz leaned in, glaring at her brother on the other side of the table.

“Hold on a second,” Dick pushed his empty plate aside to lean closer to Danny, “Fright Knight? The King’s right hand man? The Aspect of Fear?”

“That’s the one!”

“I don’t—” Jazz blinked, “I don’t know�� How? When?”

“Uhhhh, since the first siege, I believe?” Danny's smile went from one ear to the other. “He said, and I quote, ‘I had never felt such things in battle before. Lady Jasmine’s war cries pierced my chest deeper than her lance pierced our enemies’.”

Tim shuddered. It was the way Danny impersonated this Fright Knight’s sickening dreamy voice.

“The first siege? That was more than two years ago!”

“And you haven’t noticed this guy being in love with you?” Jason spoke for the first time, grinning at his girlfriend.

“I don’t know?” Jazz threw her hands up. “I thought he was being nice!”

“For a whole year?”

“He’s been giving you courting gifts, Jazz!” Danny said, incredulous. “And you accepted them!”

“So those were courting gifts?”

“What were those gifts?”

“Swords.” Danny answered Jason. “Shiny blades. Ornamental and functional. Jazz has a collection back in the Realms.” He turned towards his sister. “Which, by the way, people keep sending gifts for you. I think they think that you are the ‘reasonable’ one of us and if they send you more swords you’d be more merciful.”

“I don’t need more swords.”

“You liar. You love swords.”

Jazz blushed, unable to say otherwise. “Still nothing he did told me he was interested.”

“Ancients, Jazz,” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone knew he was head over heels for you. We thought you were preferring to deal with it in private.”

Her blush became worse. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands fidgeting with her napkin. “You know I don’t do all the romance stuff.”

Incredulous, Danny just pointed at Jason. “And how do you explain him?”

“It’s…” she licked her lips, “different. Unexpected. We just— we clicked.”

“Awww.”

Danny made a face and rolled his eyes, ignoring Dick and Cass’ cooing.

“Well. I’m not going to be the one dealing with all that. Frighty is all yours.”

Jazz sighed. “I’ll talk to him when I go back to the Realms.”

“Hm.” Danny hummed, suddenly lost in thought as he sipped his water. “Maybe you don’t have to.”

“What?”

“I said: Maybe you don’t have to.” He spoke louder. “Come back, I mean.”

She did a double take. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Danny took a second longer than what was expected. “You can stay here.” He leaned back on his seat, putting as much distance as he could from his sister. He was also evading her eyes. “Permanently.”

There was only the sounds of the birds chirping in the nearby trees and the wind flowing between the leaves for a few seconds.

“Are you—” Jazz’s voice was careful, low, “Are you firing me?”

Half the table was looking at Danny and the other half had their eyes glued on Jazz’s face. Her rage, while quiet, was familiar to those witnessing the moment — betrayals, infightings and disbelief ran though their minds as they remembered similar situations in their pasts.

“Jazz—”

“After everything you just— What the hell Danny?”

“I’m not— Could you at least look at me?” She did, and everyone could see her watery eyes. “It’s for your own good.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Jazz’s expression turned murderous as the tears escaped her eyes. She stood up, teeth grinding, breathing deeply a few times before she opened her mouth.

“You don’t mean that.” She crossed her arms.

Danny looked like he wished he was anywhere else but in that room at that moment. “Bad choice of words. I don’t mean that.” He slowly repeated.

“Good.” Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but she was still mad.

“What I wanted to say is…” He sighed and lifted his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at— You know I always mess these things up— Okay, okay I’ll get to the point.” He quickly added under Jazz’s narrowing eyes. He breathed in, breathed out. “I want you to stay here. In the living world. As long as you want.”

She processed his words, and slowly sat back down. The sounds of nature around them picked up like nothing happened, even if no one had noticed their rather unnatural silence.

“But you said…”

“I know. But things have changed, Jazz. I want you to stay. How could I not be okay with that?”

“But— But my role— And the Archives, and Walker, and—”

“Everything can wait. Or, I don’t know, we’ll deal with it.” He leaned in and took one of her hands in his. “We told you to come here because you really needed a vacation, and I stand by it. The Keep can wait for you. I can wait for you.”

“But—”

“Jasmine Fenton. You have given up everything for me. You were not meant for any of this ghost bullshit or war or fist fighting gods in a Denny’s parking lot. But you gave me a decade of that, and I appreciate it, but that’s enough. You can rest now, you can have nice things. You deserve it.”

Nobody missed when Danny gave Jason, and quick look around the people on the table, when he mentioned the “nice things” she could have.

Jazz opened her mouth only to close it again, more tears coming to her eyes. Her cheeks tinted red, maybe from embarrassment, maybe for remnants of her anger.

She yanked her hand from her brother’s and rushed to her feet, taking a shaky breath.

“Excuse me.”

Jason frowned, watching her go back inside the house and probably looking for a place to calm down.

He felt a kick on one leg.

“Go.” Danny interlaced his hands on the table and nodded in his sister’s general direction. “She needs you.”

Jason’s frown deepened, but he obliged without saying a word.

Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious under Danny’s stare. The young man didn’t look affected by what just happened like his sister was, but his eyes betrayed the conflicted emotions he hid behind his mask.

“I’m sorry you guys had to witness that. I should have waited until we got home. My bad.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, but it felt like forced nonchalance.

“That was sure something.” Dick commented after clearing his throat.

“I apologize but I need to ask,” Bruce leaned in. “Jasmine seemed pretty adamant her time here was limited, that she would sooner or later have to leave everything here. What changed?”

“Did she tell you that?” Danny made an incredulous face and scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t even need to ask. I don’t know why I keep being surprised by her antics.”

“So it’s not true?”

What else had she been lying about? A tiny voice said in the back of Bruce’s head. He tried to ignore it, but given the drastic differences between Danny’s and Jazz’s behavior, he was wondering what was the actual picture and what was the siblings’ casual omission of truth.

“It was true, but only because she herself sets those limits. Jazz is…,” he sighed, deflating on his seat, looking at the sky, “I love my sister, and a lot, but she takes everything too seriously.”

Or you don’t take things seriously enough, Bruce thought, but chose not to say it.

“I never said she had a time limit, or that she had to turn her back on the living world for the rest of her life. We sent her ass to the Arkham internship because she doesn’t know how to take a break.”

“Arkham is a break?” Tim asked what had been lingering in everyone’s heads. The siblings kept referring to working at the worst psychiatric criminal facility, a vacation and a break.

Danny scoffed again, turning his eyes towards the young man. His smile wasn’t kind. “You guys haven’t put it together? The kind of role Jazz has in the Realm. The kind of person she… The kind of person I asked her to become.”

There was deep guilt in his voice, and in the way he couldn’t hold his gaze. Danny fidgeted with his napkin, letting the birds sing the tension of his silence away. They were waiting on him to elaborate, and he knew that, but was building the courage to speak.

“Do you guys know how powerful I am? No, you don’t,” he answered himself with a shrug, “because there’s no one like me. I could— If I wanted to, I could bring this city, the whole city, into the Infinite Realms. Just like that.

If I wanted to I could end the war with a snap of my fingers. I could Order every ghost-adjacent being to follow my every command and bring peace via total domination. Or,” he stopped his fingers, sighing, “I could just rip their cores with a thought and crush them with another and be done with Vlad and with every stubborn ghost that thinks I don’t deserve to be King.”

He finally glanced up at Bruce, as if he knew all these scenarios passed though the man’s head as he spoke. “Imagine that — Every conflict, every war, I could wish it away in seconds.”

The older man nodded, following his speech. “And yet you are here.”

Danny’s vulnerable smile reminded him so much of Clark’s. “I can’t. I can’t do that. If I— If I just eliminate every little thing in my way, what kind of person would I be? I’ve seen it happen, Bruce. I know what I could be if I lose perspective of who I really want to be.”

Cass lifted her hand like she was in a classroom. “Jazz. She’s your anchor.”

Danny went back to looking at his hands, shoulders sagging. In shame? In defeat? “All of them keep me grounded, even when I feel like I’m drifting away from who I used to be. But Jazz? She knows what needs to be done, what I’m scared to do. She knows she can handle the guilt and the nightmares and the horror.”

He took a long breath to calm himself. “Jazz is what I can’t— what I won’t be, and she took that burden like it was nothing. She has always done that, taking the bad things and dealing with them for me. It’s just… This time, the ‘bad things’ are a little bit more permanent.”

It made sense now. How she avoided talking about it, how Jazz tensed when she was asked what her role was. How she was so comfortable at Arkham.

“She’s your Executioner.”

Danny flinched at Bruce’s words. “She’s that and more. She became a counterpart for me, a shadow, so I could shine in the spotlight. A symbol.” He said the word like it was a curse. Bruce didn’t miss the twitch in his eyebrow. “Do you know why her armor is bright red?” His smile wasn’t kind when he looked up. “The Infinite Realms are green. She stands out and attracts all the attention in battle so the rest of us can be the heroes of the hour.” He chuckled. “She never wanted any of this. She didn’t defeat the previous King, she wasn’t even there. I know my childhood could have been way worse if she wasn’t in my life, and I’m grateful, but I kept asking more and more from her and now—”

“Do you really think I didn’t want this?” Jazz’s voice cut through Danny’s rambles. “I chose to stay, Danny.”

He didn’t react when he saw her walk in, her face puffy and her eyes still wet. Did he know she was listening? Of course he did — from what the vigilantes could gather so far, Danny’s abilities were up there with Superman’s. Maybe even more.

“Don’t.” He frowned. “I can see right through your bullshit, Jazz. There wasn’t that much of a choice and you know it.”

She bit her lips, but didn’t deny it. Instead, she pulled on her joined hands with Jason’s so they approached the table and sat down.

After settling in her seat, she breathed in, breathed out and smiled. “You are making me sound like some kind of demon or something.” Nobody bought the lightness of her tone.

Danny caught her deflection and chose to follow. He scoffed. “And you are not?” He made a gesture with his hands, placing them on the sides of his head with his pointer fingers up, imitating his sister’s headpiece.

She rolled her eyes. “I am not—”

“Jazzy, fear incarnate is in love with you. He let you ride his horse!” He smirked at Jason. “Not an euphemism.”

He caught on what the siblings were trying to do and turned towards his girlfriend. “You never told me about any horse, darling.”

“Nightmare was a strategic move. Frighty knows I can’t fly like the rest of you and it could give me an advantage during battle.”

“Nightmare? Seriously?” Jason asked.

“Big black horse with wings.” She quickly explained with a shrug. “Breathes fire.”

“Are you serious? Fright Knight doesn’t let me even touch his horse and I’m the King!” He threw his hands up in the air. “That being said, he doesn’t challenge me as much as he does with you, and thanks the Ancients for that.”

“Wait. Wait a second. Are you saying—”

Danny’s smile grew like a Cheshire Cat’s. “Ooohhhh. You didn’t know? Did you forget the one basic fact about ghost nature, Jazzy-pants? Ghost’s love language is fighting.” He said the last part imitating her voice, like she was giving a lecture of some kind.

“Oh? Tell me more?” Jason leaned towards Danny, head leaning on one hand, completely enraptured by the information his girlfriend’s brother shared so easily.

“And he wasn’t pulling any punches either. Before I learned he was formally courting her, I wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight her to death or marry her!”

“He could do both if he’s not a coward.” Jason shared the smile with Danny, ignoring Jazz’s hands pushing his shoulder away from her.

“Hey!” Jazz protested, but there was a small smile on her lips. “Don’t encourage him!”

“Wait until I tell you about The Ballad of the Red Demon.” Danny also ignored his sister, and the eyes of the rest of the Waynes, as he summoned a notebook with more green flames. He cleared his throat, opened the notebook and started reading:

“The fire in her eyes burned brighter than any sun, as the sharp edge of her blade pierced your chest to meet your untimely end.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her burning fury will consume you in a blaze hotter than the Realm’s Core.

There she rides the winged Dark Horse as her cries call for the blood of her enemies, bright green eyes already searching for the next target.

Don’t provoke the Red Demon, for her siren’s call will be the last thing you hear before you draw your last breath.”

“What in the Ancients is that?” Realization came to the young woman. She slapped the table and stood up. “Ghost Writer?”

Danny nodded. “He gave me the first draft to approve before getting into editing.” He shook the notebook closer to his sister. “There’s a chapter for each of us, don’t think it’s just about you.”

He rolled his eyes and reopened the notebook, getting ready to continue reading, but Jazz jumped and reached across the table trying to snatch the notebook before he continued. He managed to float away just in time to prevent her from taking it from him, and quickly flew high enough that she couldn’t reach him, but close enough that he was almost within reach.

“Awww, you don’t want our new friends to know about your feats during the last siege? About—” he glanced at the text, quickly murmuring words under his breath, “‘Her fiery hair glows like a damned halo’ and ‘sharp blade like a gentle kiss of death’ something something ‘crushing enemies under her foot’.”

Jazz was trying to jump high enough so she could catch her brother, her face crimson red as the others chuckled at the scene.

Finally, taking pity on her, Jason reached for the book as Danny was distracted reading the next stanza and seized it away from the floating Fenton.

“Thank you.” She breathed in relief, extending her hand so he could give her the notebook.

With a tiny smile, he opened it and tried to read too, but it was written in symbols he felt he recognized but couldn’t read.

“Do you have an official translation yet or do I have to wait?”

---

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[antimony-medusa]

Ao3 Wrapped

I like numbers so here I am delving into my works again!

__

Overall stats for 2024!

User Subscriptions: 218

Kudos: 1,703

Comment Threads: 376

Bookmarks: 479

Subscriptions: 126

Word Count: 186,620

Hits: 186,620

That's a decrease on most metrics, but my word count is very comparable to last year, and I had no idea my subscription count had broken 200! Cool! Especially as I wrote some kind of out there fics this year, I'm very touched by that people want to stick around. I feel like I also do kind of absurdly well for comments, so thank you guys for that.

Fun Stats: 

Fics Published: 25, including one on anon, for 186,620. This is down from last year's 31, but my word count last year was 198,621, so we're pretty damn close!

Number of One-Shots: 22— It was another year of going hard on exchanges, and that encourages one-shots! Of those, 14 were under five thousand words, so I'm pretty pleased with my objective of learning to write short was actually enacted, when I was experiencing deadline pressure!

Number of Multi-Chapters: 3 total, and one still unfinished. I didn't start any new ongoings and leave them unfinished this year, but I still have multiple languishing from 2022, and I didn't finish the one of those I was working on this year, so— augh. I need to stop doing events and finish some of those ongoings! But events are so good...

Number of Inspired Works: 3, because I participated in recursive exchange, where you write fic inspired by other people's fic and art! One of those was inspired by an animation, which I'm very proud of.

Longest Fic: You Blew Me Into Stardust (42,846 words), my beloved mech au. I did two fics for the aufest reverse bang, I also wrote Trying Hard Not To Smile Though I Feel Bad (16,254 words) for Aufest, which is a college au! The minimum for that event was 5k so I— went overboard a bit.

Shortest Fic: I just posted it actually, that's How To Make The Secret City’s Speciality Dessert - Roasted Brown Sugar Oranges And Buttermilk Ice Cream  (912 words), that's a zine fic where we had a 1250 word maximum! I love this fic, and I'm so proud that I managed something short.

Most Kudosed Fic: Gonna Have It Out Like Fight Club, which is a bit unfair because that one has been acquiring kudos since 2022, and is now at 213 kudos. My poor neglected child the mafia fic I HAVE THE REST OF THE FIC OUTLINED I just keep writing things for events instead of writing you.

Most Viewed Fic: That's Gonna Have It Out Like Fight Club, with 2,220, but again a bunch of those are from last year, so probably my biggest fic is Trying Hard Not To Smile Though I Feel Bad, my 13-things-I-hate-about-you Niki & Ranboo au, at 1,457 hits. That one I honestly did not expect to get as big as it did, but I guess people like the comedy.

Most Subscribed Fic: Gonna Have It Out Like Fight Club, with 82 people wanting to know how that one ends. I"M SORRY. I"LL FINISH IT I PROMISE. I did notice my subscriptions to fics overall fell— people were still subscribing to one-shots last year, and this year I guess people realized that was not panning out.  

Most Bookmarked Fic: okay so it LOOKS like it's Gonna Have It Out Like Fight Club at 73 but I can count dates so I can tell that only 28 of those are from this year, wait I forgot about private bookmarks. Hm. Well anyways the one I'm sure was bookmarked this year was Things Could Be So Easy (If You Let Them), my first real intentional shot at writing QPR emduo with a proposal, and boy having THAT unlocked was a delight. That one has 52 bookmarks.

Most Used Fandom: Dream SMP with 13 fics, and SMPEarth in second place with 5. I wrote 9 different fandoms this year, technically.

Least Used Fandom: this is A MULTIWAY Tie as Internet & Social Media (Anthropomorphic), Murderbot Diaries, Books of the Raksura, Original Work, Origins SMP, and Parkour Civilization are all at 1 fic.

Most Used Rating: Teen, 18 fics. I wrote my first two explicit fics this year, both for exchanges!

Least Used Rating: Gen, 1 fic.

Most Written Relationship: Technoblade & Phil Watson | Philza, 10 times, UP FROM NINE LAST YEAR I'M DOING BETTER.

Most Used Additional Tag: hilariously, it's a tie between Comedy and Grief/Mourning, both with four times.

Most Frequently Used Characters: 

Philza (16)

Technoblade (15)

Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF) (6)

Niki | Nihachu (5)

Tommyinnit (3)

Ghostbur (Dream SMP) (2)

Tumblr (Anthropomorphic) (1)

Jade (Books of the Raksura) (1)

Moon (Books of the Raksura) (1)

Archive of our Own (Anthropomorphic) (1)

Last year I was really startled that Tommy didn't make the list and well. I am not immune to Tommyinnit. He's back again.

Last Year’s Stats

And here's my stats! Tag me if you do this too, I like to see numbers!

[imtrashraccoon]

Been looking forward to this all month! I rediscovered that it is very hard to write spicy stuff while listening to a classic Markiplier video...everything hurts from laughing now. Side note, did anyone else watch the most recent Lackadaisy short "Stratagem"? It's pretty much unrelated to this chapter but I thought it was funny!

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Free Space - Glow

Word Count: 2,886

Feat. Dust & Nightmare!

The castle was absolutely massive and while you'd explored quite a bit of it, you had the feeling you'd only scratched the surface. Pretty much every room was massive and filled with expensive furniture. You basically felt like you were a mouse that broke into a mansion and was adopted by its occupants.

Your bedroom had a queen size bed, a fireplace, a small but comfortable couch, at least a dozen different pillows and blankets, a walk in closet, and even an on-suite bathroom. The whole room felt larger than your entire apartment had been and it was all yours.

You hadn't left your room, let alone your bed for several days, except when you had to look after your human needs. At first, Nightmare hadn't let anyone bother you, but after the first day and once you'd recovered from the shock, he eventually allowed the others to come visit you.

You were pretty sure there had been an argument over who would get to see you first but ultimately, Axe was your first visitor. You didn't know how that had come about and you were too exhausted to ask. He practically fussed over you like a mother hen, except it was even worse than when you were sick. You weren't complaining yet though, as you'd really missed him. He took it upon himself to make sure you were never hungry and seemed to always have something he wanted you to try.

Killer was next, which you weren't surprised about in the slightest. He seemed to be up to his usual antics, although slightly toned down because you were bed bound. He tried out a bunch of new jokes, all of which ranged from unfunny to cringe inducing, but you'd be lying if you said you hated it. He also was a lot more touchy than usual, although it was in an affectionate rather than sleazy way.

You saw very little of Dust though, which was a bit strange, but not unusual for him. He always had acted kind of distant with you but had warmed up over your time knowing each other. Unfortunately, now he seemed like he had regressed significantly and was avoiding you. Then, you woke up in the middle of the night one time with him sitting on the floor against your bed, holding your hand and tracing small circles over your knuckles. He seemed rather embarrassed when he realized he'd woken you up but you couldn't be upset with him. At least he'd come by a few times when you were actually awake since.

Today you'd decided to try to do some reading to distract yourself. It seemed like you were adjusting well to this new environment but you weren't sleeping well on your own. You kept getting flashbacks of the day your world broke down and nearly had to beg Nightmare to help. Whatever he'd done had been effective since you were sleeping without any bad dreams, although you weren't getting any dreams either, or at least you couldn't remember if you were.

Nightmare had a massive library and easily hundreds of books that he had collected from various worlds over...however long he'd been alive. You'd never asked how old any of the boys were actually, let alone him. There was also plenty of cozy seating in the library and even a couple of nooks you could hide in if you didn't want to be bothered.

You had sat down in the main seating area today with the first of high fantasy series that Nightmare had personally recommended. It was a change of pace from your usual literature but change was good. It helped keep your mind off of...everything.

The issue was that you weren't able to concentrate on any of the words and had to restart a chapter multiple times with no luck. At some point you found yourself staring into the soft glowing flame of a candle that you certainly hadn't lit when you sat down here.

There wasn't anything you could have done to save your world and you knew that it wasn't the boys' fault that the world code had become unstable. The way Nightmare explained it, once Monsterkind was freed from the Underground, the story had run its course. Essentially, it was only a matter of time before everything broke down like that.

You still felt awful about it though. You wished with all your soul that you could've saved others or even prevented the destruction entirely. You understood quite clearly now what people who survived horrible accidents where lots of other people died felt like.

Hearing someone scuff their shoes across the carpet, you looked over sharply to basically come face to face with Dust. He had a concerned look on his skull, although it quickly morphed into one of relief when you made eye contact with him.

"are you okay?" he asked.

You grimaced and looked away. "I've...been better..." you murmured.

He sat down next to you and wrapped an arm over your shoulders in a slightly tentative side hug. "i'm not good at the whole comfort thing..." he muttered in your ear. "so just tell me if i'm being a nuisance, okay?"

You nodded but remained silent. He was selling himself sort in your personal opinion as just being there for someone was still a valid form of comfort. So what if he didn't make you food or make jokes to cheer you up?

After several quiet minutes, he gave your shoulder a light squeeze. "would a distraction help? we could play some chess if you want?"

"Sure, why not? So long as you give me a sporting chance anyways."

He chuckled and his mismatched eyelights seemed to flicker with untold thoughts of mischief. "i can't promise that but i'll try, bean. i'll be back with the game in a sec." He stood up and teleported away before you could retort.

You rolled your eyes at no one in particular and put your abandoned book away. You'd have to try reading it another time it seemed.

Dust reappeared a few seconds later with a small box and an intricate game board tucked under one arm. He started to set up the game on the coffee table and you quickly realized that this was the most beautiful Chess set you'd ever seen. The pieces seemed to be made of polished ivory and all had gold detailing. You weren't sure if the board itself was also ivory or something else like marble, but it was just as beautiful as the pieces were.

"It's gorgeous..." you whispered.

He nodded, "i got it recently since i enjoyed playing the game with you so much. i haven't had anyone to play with though..."

You couldn't help but frown as he sat down next to you again. "The others don't like Chess?"

"nah, axe has no interest as there's too much to focus on and killer can't sit still for more than two seconds to even try." He scratched the side of his skull before adding, "i haven't actually asked nightmare, but i don't know if he'd even be interested when he's so busy all the time."

You hummed thoughtfully as the game began. Dust had assigned the white pieces to you for seemingly no particular reason, not that you minded as it just meant you got to go first.

The game went on a lot longer than you thought it would. Compared to the last time you'd played, he didn't seem to be trying to win, or at least not actively trying. He wasn't resorting to making obviously bad moves though, so you didn't feel like he was babying you at least. Still, you weren't about to give him a pass just because he was being nice. No, you were playing to win.

At some point during that game, you saw Dust glance over at something out of the corner of your eye. When you looked up though, you realized that Nightmare had entered the library at some point and was now watching the both of you play. Maybe he was interested in Chess afterall? With the way his cyan eyelight was studying how the pieces moved across the board, you felt inclined to believe that he was.

If Dust was bothered by having an audience, he didn't act like it and just continued to play as if nothing was different. You were less successful at doing so as you couldn't help but wonder if Nightmare would think less of you if you made a silly mistake. He didn't make any teasing comments, or any comments really, until Dust inevitably won the game.

"Would either of you be willing to let me play a round?" Nightmare asked, glancing between you and Dust.

You shrugged and glanced over at Dust, only to catch the briefest glance of his surprised expression before he carefully masked it again.

He nodded and started to set up the pieces again. "sure, if you really want to." He glanced at you with a silent question on his metaphorical lips that you answered with a small nod.

You didn't mind tapping out for a game if it meant you'd get to see two of your friends mentally duke it out. So, you scooted a bit closer to Dust in order to make room for Nightmare on the couch, which left you sitting between both skeletons.

Dust finished setting up the pieces, interestingly with the white ones facing him this time, and glanced at Nightmare. "we were just playing for fun earlier, so what are the stakes?" His tone was quiet but there was an underlying competitive edge to it now too.

Nightmare got an intrigued expression on his face and he tapped his clavicle thoughtfully. His gaze turned to you and he gave you a look that could only be described as devious. "I can sense that you're feeling down, my dear. So," he looked over at Dust as his grin widened, "why don't we play for who gets to cuddle with the human?"

"What...?" You could feel your cheeks grow rather warm at the idea, although a small part of you almost leapt for joy. "You can't be serious?"

Dust didn't even hesitate and his eyelights seemed to burn brighter with determination. "deal," he confirmed and moved his first piece.

Nightmare chuckled quietly and gave you a suggestive look, which only served to fluster you further. You really had no preference on who won, although Nightmare was quite good at cuddling, while Dust generally seemed a bit adverse to most physical contact. You just hoped that whoever lost wouldn't be too upset by it.

It quickly became apparent that Dust was actually trying to win and he wasn't pulling the intellectual punches. You could tell that Nightmare knew how to play but that he seemed a bit rusty. He wasn't a bad player by any means, he probably could beat you anyways, but he seemed to be forgetting to utilize quite a few of his pieces when it mattered most.

As such, you weren't surprised when Dust managed to win. You saw it coming several turns in advance once he'd captured most of Nightmare's useful pieces, especially because his smile grew wider the longer it went on.

When he'd finally managed to corner Nightmare's king, he smirked at you and slid an arm around your waist, tugging you closer to him. You let him and couldn't help but giggle when he did so. You admittedly teased Nightmare a little bit by sticking out your tongue, although he didn't seem too put off.

"How about a rematch?" he asked Dust.

"sure."

The two skeletons played again with Dust winning once again. He chuckled and his smile became more cocky now.

You were suitably impressed with his skill and gave him a congratulatory pat on the arm. He had other ideas though and gently tilted your chin so you'd look at him again. He then pressed a chaste kiss against your lips before releasing you.

While you hadn't expected Dust to go that far, you would be lying if you said you didn't like it. When you glanced at Nightmare though, your heart did a little somersault.

He wore a neutral expression on his skull and if it weren't for the way his left eye socket was narrowed slightly, you wouldn't have known he was frustrated. Whether it was from losing twice in a row, the way Dust was now obviously taunting him, or both, you couldn't tell. Although, you could tell that despite his outwardly cool demeanor, there was a layer of danger lurking underneath the surface.

"Let's go again," he said quietly.

Dust shrugged and set up the board again. "sure, if you're willing to lose again," he teased.

The tension was palpable between them as the game began. You noticed Nightmare seemed to be ultra focused this time and moved his pieces a bit slower so he could be sure he wasn't making a foolish decision.

You didn't want him to actually get upset if he lost again. It was obvious that Dust wasn't going easy on him though, so what could you do?

Between turns, you got a bit of a cheeky idea. You started with snuggling a bit closer to Dust and lightly running your fingers over his ribcage through his shirt. At first, he didn't seem to really notice what you were doing but when he did, he gently squeezed your waist and nuzzled against your forehead.

You kept this up until both of them were down to only a half dozen pieces each. You then pulled away slightly which got Dust's attention.

"You're practically glowing," you whispered, although it was loud enough that even Nightmare could hear.

Dust blinked and got a confused look on his skull. He stared at you, trying to figure out what you really meant, but you noticed he seemed to be getting a little flustered if the soft violet glow that began to colour his cheekbones was anything to go by.

You were doing your damn best to keep a straight face and maintain your oblivious air. It was getting really hard but you hadn't sucked up to a crappy boss for years to slack off now.

You lightly traced his clavicle with a finger and tilted your head curiously. Glancing up at his face again, you murmured, "I haven't seen you this happy before... It looks good on you."

He still seemed confused but your sincerity must've been very effective and he actually smiled more genuinely at you. He moved some of your hair behind your ear and started to lean closer when Nightmare cleared his non-existent throat.

"It's your turn..." he hissed.

Dust huffed and shot him an annoyed look. Nightmare just crossed his arms and stared passively back, although you could see the tips of his tentacles twitching with irritation.

Dust quickly scanned the board and used his magic to shift his last pawn ahead a square. "there, happy?" he grumbled.

Nightmare studied the board for a moment before nodding. You noticed the edges of his smile seemed to twitch and his restless tentacles suddenly went stock still.

"Quite," he hummed and slid his only remaining bishop across the board. "I believe that is checkmate."

Dust stiffened and Nightmare's grin only grew more smug the longer he scanned the board. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand down his face.

"yeah, you win..." he muttered.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding when neither of them got angry. With a soft chuckle, you rubbed reassuring circles into Dust's shoulder blades with your fingers.

"Hey, it's okay, you had a good run..."

He turned to you and narrowed his eye sockets. "you purposely distracted me," he grumbled.

You shrugged, "Maybe, but I only told you the truth." While you were trying your best to remain the perfect picture of innocent, you knew Dust that could see through you.

Nightmare hummed and beckoned for you to come closer with one of his claws. "I believe you belong over here now, my dear," he almost purred.

You smiled and shifted over to sit with him. To your surprise, he wrapped his tentacles around your entire body and pulled you into his lap. His claws pressed into your skin in a possessive way and he nuzzled his face into your hair as well.

Your face felt like it was on fire and you ducked to try and hide your embarrassment. Nightmare seemed to take great pleasure in the effect he was having on you, if the little amused chuckle he let out was anything to go by.

Dust's face was strained with annoyance but when you caught his eye, he smirked. "that's what you get for being a tease," he remarked. He did seem a little disappointed that Nightmare was giving you so much attention but at least he wasn't mad.

He looked over at Nightmare and his mismatched eyelights took on a competitive glint once again. "want to go another round?" he asked.

Nightmare pretended to think for a moment before nodding. "Of course." He hugged you a bit tighter and added, "I think I like playing this game..."

You were going to be stuck here for a while...

[sillybillymillyrilly]

More Shuu lore!! (+ Diasomnia?)

just me yapping about what I think would happen/headcanons about book 7, I guess? please read it!! uh

SPOILER WARNING FOR BOOK 7

────୨ৎ────

-What happened?

I imagine that in book 7, around the end where Mallues is almost free from his overblot. He would try to keep the people she most cares about to stay in a last ditch effort. So I think he would maybe use/ make some sort of thorns to trap the people he cares about. The thorns would wrap around Shuu's, Silver's, Lilia's, and Sebek's limbs. Keeping them from moving for a short while. But would end up ruining something else for a longer while.

────୨ৎ────

-The aftermath?

Everyone who got attacked by the thorns would have to go to the hospital. I'm not sure how long it would take to heal the marks from the thorns. Since they all have different marks + the thorns are magical/are controlled by magic.

────୨ৎ────

-Where are the scars?

Shuu's: Her left arm, the scar starts an inch and a half above her elbow to the end of the hand. And her right leg, the scar starting at her shin to her foot.

Silver's: His right arm, the scar starts at his right bicep to his wrist. His right leg, the scar starts at his knee to his Achilles tendon.

Sebek's: His left arm, the scar starts his left bicep to his wrist. His left leg, the scar starts at his thigh to his calf.

Lilia's: His left arm, the scar starts at his bicep to the end of his hand. His left leg, the scar starts his thigh to his Achilles tendon. And his right leg, the scar starts at his shin to the end of his foot.

────୨ৎ────

A little random but I think from who would heal the fastest to the slowest it would be, Lilia, Sebek, Silver, then Shuu. Because I think fae have tougher skin then humans and Lilia is fae, and Sebek is half fae they would heal fast. Silver's next because he's lived in the woods and is a retainer he probably has tough skin.

But I think who would actually heal first in the situation would be Sebek, Silver, Shuu, then Lilia. I imagine that Malleus also controls how tight the thorns are Lilia would have some pretty deep marks. Since it was the last time he was going to be in NRC.

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-What's their relationship with Malleus after the overblot?

Shuu: She slightly hates him. Every time she looks at the marks she gets a reminder about the overblot. Giving a whole bunch of emotional turmoil. Malleus is her friend right? Why would he give her these marks? She knows he wasn't in the right head space but still. Why? She just avoids him now. Having anything to do with him makes her upset and slight angry.

Silver: He's upset and has mixed feelings. He tries to be understanding toward Malleus but seeing how Shuu has changed because of Malleus. It makes him unsure how to act. But he does try to be help both sides.

Sebek: He's upset and confused. Someone he idealized and deafened, hurt. . . him. He does understand Malleus and will still be by his side and defend him. But there is an uncertain feeling when he's around him.

Lilia: He is very understanding towards Malleus. He understands him and also understands how people could have a distaste for Malleus after the overblot.

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-Miscellaneous parts of lore!!

The marks are a lasting reminder of the day of his overblot and the pain and hurt she felt when she got those marks. Would ruin her mental health.

Shuu wears bandages over her arm and leg to cover the scars when she goes back to NRC.

Silver and Shuu bond over the marks. Silver comforts her when she starts to get upset about the marks or is feeling emotion turmoil.

Sebek and Shuu become better friends after the overblot, by also bonding!

Lilia really likes his scars and shows them off.

Diasomnia + Shuu has a "I survived Malleus Overblot!" shirt. They do and I will be drawing them in their favorite shirt. Well at least Lilia's.

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Have a good rest of your day! And thank you for reading all of that!!

Also thank you Quartz for helping me out with the lore!! You give really good ideas!!

Please let me know if anything was out of character!!

I will probably be doing more posts like this!! So if you like them, please stay around!!