#also have a cat whose needs we always put before ours

[norrisleclercf1]

Mafia Lestappen when reader gets into a car crash

A/N: And if I add a child? Then what????? Also Monaco is a lot bigger in this fake world soooo yeah maybe twice as big as it normally is

"Mommy, sing," You baby girl giggles as you drive her home from 1st grade, you hate dropping her off there, but it was safe and good for her to socialize with other children, and with her life and who her fathers are you knew letting her be herself safely was best.

"Adie," You sigh, but you can't deny those sea green eyes as you turn up the old Disney music and start to sing with her. She giggles happily as you look in the mirror and smile, 'MOMMY!" Adeline scream rings out as you look back in front of you and gasp, before everything goes dark.

--------------------------------

"Should be home soon," Charles sighs, finally home from a long day at the office, Max trudging in behind Charles wanting to just curl up in bed with his family. "I know, I hate she goes to school, but it's best," Max grumbles, always missing his little girl and Charles was no better.

When she was younger the two of them would break her out all the time but you put your foot down, stating that school would be good for Adeline. Charles hums and pets the cats and then Leo, his dog and moves grabbing his phone as it vibrates and he smiles as picture of you and Adie pop up.

"Mon cher, when are you going to be-" "Mr. Leclerc, this is Dr. LaRouche, I'm the emergency room attending here at Grace Kelly Memorial Hospital, I have your daughter and wife here, they were in a very serious accident," Charles feels his blood run cold as he turns to stare at Max whose bent down petting his cats. "What?" Max asks, looking up.

"Charles, what is it?"

---------------------------

"I just want Mommy!" Adeline sobs, the pediatrician and nurse trying their best to calm her down. "I know sweetie, but we've called your fathers, they'll be here soon," The doors fly open as Max charges in like a bull, eyes wild before the settle on his baby girl. "ADIE!" "DADDY!" She sobs and moves as he rushes over and captures her in his arms.

"I'm here, I'm here," Max repeats as Charles collides into them holding his baby as well. "Mommy, mommy was hurt," She sobs and Max refuses to move from her side as Charles looks around their guards everywhere as the staff move carefully around them. "Someone tell me where the fuck, our wife is?" Charles ground out and a nurse stands, walking over quickly.

"You're wife and daughter were involved in a head on collision, the man was running from the cops and hit your wife. She sustained a head injury and a lacerated spleen and they needed to take her to surgery to remove the spleen as it was bleeding and unable to be repaired. You can see her in a couple hours when the surgery is over, please, just stay with your daughter," The nurse calmly explains and Max moves lying on the bed now.

"Charles," Charles turns around and sees Adie crying softer and looking at him with his own eyes. "Oh, my poor bebe, you must've been so scared. You were so brave," Charles praises softly kissing her head as Max looks over her only seeing little scratches and scruffs, the only thing that concerns him is the cut on her forehead.

"Does your head hurt my little star?" Max whispers pulling her into his lap and holding her close as Charles blocks them from the lingering eyes in the Emergency room. "Just a little, they gave me yucky medicine to help," She explains, "Papa, can I play a game on your phone?" She asks, blinking and Charles quickly gives her his phone.

"Mr. Verstappen, Mr. Leclerc?" They turn as a doctor approaches them. "Your wife is out of surgery, we can't let you in the room, but you can see her," Charles and Max move, Charles taking Adie into his arms and kisses her head gently as they walk through the stale hospital hallways and stop at your window, the sound of candy crush going low from Charles's phone.

"She's good, just sleeping, we'll continue to monitor her, but luckily her car is....military grade, if her car wasn't like that then it would be much worse," The doctor says and pats Max's back who nods as Charles squeezes Adie close unable to imagine what would've happened.

"Told you it was worth it," Max whispers and Charles sighs resting his head on his shoulder. "Not now, Max,"

[seth-shitposts]

DEFECTORS, DEFECTORS, DEFECTORS-

For you? Always friend 🫂💙💙💙 😘😘😘🥰

(Stars, I badly need to organize our docs for Defectors. I'm scrapping together to see what im pretty certain I haven't shared or gone into detail of yet.)

----

The main story of defectors will be split into two or three main parts, I think. (All of it will be in the same fic, though. The chapters will just be grouped into the parts.) Probs 3.

[I have a feeling I'm going to ramble a lot in this one so I'm going to go ahead and place a cut here😅]

The Bridgers//part i

There's going to be the first 5 years, from the night of the Bridger Raid, when Ezra is 7 in 12bby through to 7bby. This is the time span in which Kallus is taking care of Ezra, slowly losing his loyalty over the span of 4 or 5 years.

Year I

Kallus is loyal during the first year, and is conflicted about the exceptions he makes for the bridgers. For Ezra. It does and doesn't go against what he was trained for. To him, the situation is much more complex than the empire would view it and he wasn't prepared for that. His training hadn't included young children and he himself being young at this point doesnt know what intitive to take. So he's figuring things out. And he reasons it with himself, convinces himself that while he's crossing into a grey area in the eyes of the empire, that the goal of this is to establish order, therefore he is still carrying out his duty.

This first year is him trying his best to learn how to take care of a child and gain that child's trust. (Because if Ezra can't trust him, Kallus won't be able to take care of his needs. Lack of trust will mean lack of desire to communicate needs.)

Through the year, Kallus also works on some of the cases Mira and Ephraim give him while they do as promised and integrate into the rehabilitation program. He quickly realizes that they aren't the type of people he had thought they'd be, but more similar to the person who had taken him in when he was young. He isn't sure if he's taking back some of his judgment from objective observations he makes about them or because of how much they're hitting one of his soft spots and he's becoming bias.

So he turns his focus to the work they give him. Which is releasing civilians who were arrested due to a misunderstanding or without any real proper cause. Ones whose cases would have sat in some officer's desk for months, or even years, before being gone through properly. All while the civilians in question would have still been in detainment. Busy work, but Kallus is helping them and it's motivating Mira and Ephraim so he doesn't mind doing a few extra hours of work every other day.

•Before the Bridger Raid, he had done quick work of climbing ranks within the ISB branch. Having finished top of his class already put him farther ahead. By night of the Bridger Raid, he is either ranked 101 or 100. So not to double digits yet, and him being there on the cusp is the end of being able to quickly climb ranks because of how further more ruthless the shark competition is.

•Kallus enlisted to the academy when he was 14 in 21bby. He lied about his age to get in because the bare minimum requirements is that you had to be at least 18. The recruiter knew he was full of shit about his age but still allowed him to join because Kallus was eager [desprate].

[The idea of Kallus enlisting at such a young age is inspired from a conversation we had awhile back with @heart-of-a-rebel16 💙🫂]

•Jovan had been a major help to him in the academy, and because of his help in finding footing, Kallus was able to qualify for the new ISB training program that became available a year later. Kallus graduated sometime around 18 or 17bby, still top of his class. It would be very soon after that that he was on Onderon, when he was around 18.]

•Kallus’s parents had died when he was very young. He barely even remembers them. For a few years he was treated as a feral alley cat; a sewer rat. When he was around eight or nine, a miralukan chef from a restaurant a few levels up slowly worked on trying to gain Kallus’s trust. And they eventually did. They took Kallus in as their own and looked after him. Kallus had slowly built trust with them, and even looked up to them. However both Kallus and the chef became sick when an virus swept through the lower levels- Kallus had just turned 14 and barely survived. Most who were sick didn't, the person who took him in among them. So when recruiters swept their way through the lower levels, Kallus seized his chance immediately, was willing to do anything to ensure his basic needs would be met and that he could dedicate himself toward a worthy cause.

Year II

The second year Kallus has grown more confident in his ability to take care of Ezra and unknowingly more attached. There isn't anything anyone can't adore about this sweet kid. By this point, Ezra has started coming out of his shell and Kallus has visibly become much more relaxed and gentle.

During the second year, Kallus works on trying to build good relationships with Tseebo and Morad. They have vital roles in Kallus’s ability to make the deal with the empire/the warden feasibly work. And for that to be done smoothly, it would be best if he also has their trust. It's hard for him to try and be friendly or personal; the loss of the squadron he had been a part of still unpatched.

He's opened up more to Mira and Ephraim, has seen how similar Ezra truly is to them. He decides to start negotiating with the Warden on shortening the sentence. He does manage to get it cut down, but he isn't satisfied so it's something that he goes back and forth with him on.

He's also realized a pattern between the behavior of imperial officers and wrongfully arrested civilians and has been working on correcting that behavior. Try and fix the problem at where he thinks the source is.

He learns more about lothal and some of it's traditions. Mira loves to talk about it and some of the ways she would suggest the empire change in order to best change and support lothal. Kallus takes notes of that and in his down time does research on that.

Kallus learns that Ephraim had also lost his parents at a young age, but the town he lived in endlessly supported him. And that's the type of community he wants to help build and maintain for Ezra to have and be a part of when he's older, for Ezra and for the future of Lothal. Kallus includes that in his notes and has a moment of curiosity- if the lower levels of coruscant had the resources to take care of themselves, would they have had the same compassion that lothalites had for each other?

Mira and Ephraim add in cases in which citizens were arrested simply because of not having resources. Of those who aren't able to take care of themselves. Or those who have people they needed to take care of. Kallus begins on helping them as well.

Year III

Kallus has taken initiative of helping establish systems of support on lothal by giving ideas and leeway to Governor Azadi and Minister Tua. They're both thrilled, and with Kallus helping back them to the other branches of the empire by advocating that if these changes are made, rebel activity will be lowered. They've been implementing these systems in short bursts, but without approval of the empire, the programs will die off or be reported since it isnt official imperial regulation.

He keeps getting ineffectual and half-arsed responses on the situation concerning the bridger's hearings. Mira and Ephraim have been exceptionally patient. Far more than he is. He was able to lessen their time, but by the time they're to be released, Ezra will nearly be an adult himself. It's not soon enough. Not for how compliant the two have been to everything asked of them.

Kallus has also been getting draw back from his superiors, been met with resistance for the changes he'd been trying to implement. That he can do as much extra altruistic work in his time, but not to bleed that over and confuse it with enforcing the regulations and mandates. They don't want to allow Kallus to reason with them on it. And many of the officers have been more and more distasteful and unaware. He hates that he's starting to feel seeds of resentment, so he carefully keeps attempting to get his reasoning across that this produces the best results. There's so much back and forth and near the end of the year, he sees how Ryder is also getting pressed into a similar corner. He starts to wonder if the empire is simply making mistakes that they're choosing to stick to or if they might actually not have what's best in mind.

Year IV

Kallus still has some hope at the beginning of the year, but as the year goes on its harder and harder to believe it. Near the beginning of the year, Ryder was accused of treason. His replacement seemed to have been aware of it before either of them were. Kallus met her months before and she's worked around on operations with him. He doesn't trust her and starts to lose trust in Tua when she seems to attempt to get into Pryce’s good graces. Kallus is much more careful about what he says around either of them, especially the months following azadi's arrest.

His impatience and anger toward his fellow officers has increased as they continue to ignore his corrections, saying that it's not protocol or not their job to take into account.

Kallus wishes to speak to Mira and Ephraim about it, but he worries that he could put them in harm's way since none of them can speak freely. He's been fighting harder to get Mira and Ephraim released as soon as possible. But he's run out of strings to pull. Over the past few years, he'd accepted several promotions in hopes that having a higher standing will give him more influence over their case. But now, instead of being met with weak responses or excuses, he's being downright denied.

At one point he was offered that if he stops fighting the front of keeping Ezra from being enlisted into the academy, that Mira and Ephraim could be released on probation. Kallus shoots that down immediately. He is not even going to entertain that notion. Ezra is too young. And he isn't even going to bring it up to the kid, because Ezra will feel that it's his responsibility to give his parents the chance for their freedom. Kallus will have to be dead for that to happen. He isn't going to allow it.

He's not out of options yet. So he's going to keep trying.

Things on lothal have been getting worse. He can't keep up with the cases of citizens being arrested and detained. The empire is choking lothal and its people. This isn't what he thought the empire stood for. When did this happen. [It's been like this and slowly getting worse, he realizes.]

Year V

By this point the only thing keeping Kallus in the empire is the fight for the Bridger’s freedom and the fact that if he simply walks away, he's putting not just Mira and Ephraim indanger, but also Ezra and Tseebo and Marida and Morad. Anyone he's grown close to. The empire would not just detain him, but go after them as well. He isn't sure what he's going to do, but he can figure that out once he's freed Mira and Ephraim. Near the end of the year he realizes that he'll just have to free them himself. He'll talk things out with the Sumars once he return from a mandatory operation across the galaxy. Once he returns, they'll make a plan of action.

-But Lasan happens. And in the same point as does Mira & Ephraim being rerouted to a prison off lothal. He tries to act quickly, if he doesn't persue Mira and Ephraim now they'll be lost but he can't bring Ezra with him deeper into the Empire.

Tseebo disappears, and Ezra refuses to be found, Morad tries to reassure him that he and Marida will find him. Kallus tries to work as quickly as possible to find Mira & Ephraim and bring them home. Stars, let him find them within a couple months.

^^^^^ [this is an organization of thoughts I've been trying to figure out and finalize for months now. ]

The Search for Mira&Ephraim//part ii

The next section will pick up right after that and through to s2e11, the era of Kallus searching for Mira & Ephraim, becoming more and more desperate as time goes on.

He helps any rebel cells when he has the chance and smuggles imperial captives away. He works with Morad and Marida when he has the chances.

Over the course of this arc, he grows closer to Marida. She's still very reluctant. Morad has helped Kallus from completely neglecting himself. He tells Kallus how they have been able to find ways to make sure Ezra is getting food and proper clothing, but any time they even see him, Ezra disappears. Steadily avoiding them.

Kallus makes himself blend back into the empire. Figures out how to produce results by framing imperial supports who actively commit crimes themselves. This aids him in gaining ranks, the higher his rank, the more classified information he's given access to.

Though, he's moved up to ISB-051 and still can't find the Mira & Ephraim.

I'm thinking of having Kallus fake Tua's death. Passes her more information to give to the rebels in addition to what she has.

Fulcrum//part iii

This would be everything from after Mira&Ephraim's deaths up to the liberation of lothal.

---

Epilogue

And then the epilogue was originally just going to be maybe a couple additional lengthy chapters of afterwards.

But I thank @mystical-salamander for going back and forth with me so much in the comments of this post because Defectors will be getting an entire spinoff as an epilogue.

So there will be

-The Concept Dump of Defectors AU

-The Fic Itself

-The Epilogue Spinoff

-and then collection one-shots that aren't part of the main story or that explore possibilities that didn't make it to the 'canon' of the au.

[otome-obsessions]

One Day and One Night - [Victor x Kate]

Prologue (🌞) | Chapter 1 (🌞) | Chapter 1.5 (🌞) | Chapter 2 (🌞) | Chapter 2.5 (🌞) | Chapter 3 (🌞) | Chapter 4 (🌚) | Chapter 5 (🌞)

Chapter 1 - Kate

WC:1759

As I get ready for the day ahead, I look into the mirror and give myself a nod of assurance. Today I’ll be accompanying Lord Elbert and Roger on a mission, but that wasn’t until later this afternoon. Before everyone departs on their own business today, I’ll track down Victor and give him my proposal. 

(This time, I’m not taking no for an answer!)

Dressed and ready to go, I hop out of my vanity chair and set out to find the Palace's Grim Reaper. 

As always, he started his day in his office, probably putting together his itinerary for the day. I didn’t want to accidentally walk into another one of his important discussions, so I was sure to knock on his door before entering. 

Knock knock

Victor: “Ah! Whose light little taps could that be so early in the morning?”

The door opens wide to show my lover standing as proud and beautiful as ever. His smile is bright and welcoming as he looks down at me. 

Victor: “Good morning, Kate! I was just thinking that I’d need to see your smile before I head out for the day.”

Kate: “I thought that’s why you had that mini portrait painted of me?”

Victor: “Ah, but art is a pale imitation of life when the subject is as beautiful and radiant as you.”

He leans down to grab a loc of my hair. When he brings it to his lips in a short kiss, I start to feel a slight heat rise in my cheeks. Victor is always extravagant with his language, especially his compliments, but he’d showered me with so many that it feels normal now. 

I give him the smile he was waiting for, and he returns it in kind as I walk into his office. We’ve made a habit of having tea together in the morning when there aren’t any duties getting in the way.

As I take my first sip of tea, Vic launches into an excited ramble about the day ahead. 

Victor: “-and of course I’ll have the fabrics from overseas sent to the tailors at Scala Theatre today. Our curious cat will love the costumes they create, don’t you think?”

Kate: “Fufu, of course he will, Vic. Looks like you have another day set aside for your favorite hobby... Say, Victor?”

I set down my tea cup and stare straight into his eyes with a serious look. He seems a little surprised at the change when he answers.

Victor: “Yes, Kate?”

Kate: “This coming Tuesday, do you have any plans?”

Victor: “Hmm, well since it’s a national holiday I won’t be attending to the Queen’s orders. In fact, she demanded I take the day off from the official national agenda.”

(Perfect! Seems like the Queen thinks the same way I do. He really needs a break, even if he doesn’t see that himself.)

Victor: “So, I suppose I’ll fill the day with my favorite hobby while the boys are off playing throughout England. Of course, I can be sure to set aside some time for my lovely robin as well.”

Kate: “All of it.”

Victor: “Hm?”

I’m distracted for a moment as his silky hair cascades down his shoulders, head tilted in a quizzical way. 

(He’s so gorgeous it’s almost unfair. Is it any wonder I want him all to myself?)

Kate: “I don’t want some of your time that day, Vic. I want all of it.”

A delighted but ever-so-slightly wicked smirk spreads across Victor’s face. I wasn’t usually this forward… But something Will mentioned the other day really made me want to be a bit more selfish.

Victor: “Oho! Is that so? And what shall we do with our exclusive time together?”

I took a deep breath before saying the words I’d chosen so carefully. 

Kate: “Whatever you want, Vic.”

I know that Victor had warned me against promising to do “whatever you want” the day I helped around the castle, but things were different now. Victor isn’t just some man to me. He’s so much more special than that, and above all, I trust him. 

We haven’t spent all that much time together, in the grand scheme of things, but I've seen enough to know his character. I also know that he’s been holding himself back from something on more than a few occasions. I couldn’t help but want to see more of the things Victor kept hidden away from me.

I can see he’s about to protest, so I put a finger to his lips, causing his eyes to go wide in surprise.

Kate: “You’re always telling the boys to be loyal to the desires of their wicked hearts, aren’t you? Well, you’re a member of Crown too, Vic. As much as I’ve seen the sins of the other members, as a Fairytale Keeper I’ve been neglecting your story. So I want to spend the day with you, doing whatever it is you want us to do together.”

Victor gently grips my wrist and pulls my finger from his lips before lacing his fingers with mine. His jewel toned eyes are fixed on where our palms meet. 

Victor: “As a Cursed One and the Fairytale Keeper?”

His tone is teasing as he rubs a small circle on the back of my hand with his thumb. I smile and nod my head. That was just an excuse to convince him to let me dote on him for a bit, and it looks like he’s seen through it.

Kate: “And as lovers too. We’re both good at multitasking.” 

I can see Victor pondering my proposal as emotions I can’t name flicker in his eyes. He finally sets down his teacup and looks at me directly.

(!!!)

The moment our gazes meet a shiver runs down my spine, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. It’s like the room is gripped by a heavy, fog-like chill, but then Victor smiles at me, warm and inviting, and in an instant that supposed chill is gone.

(Was… Was that just my imagination? Surely it must have been…)

Victor: “How can I argue with my own words turned against me? Very well, Kate. I’ll heed the desires of my heart for the day on one condition.”

Kate: “And what would that be?”

Victor closes the distance between us to lightly grab a loc of my hair again. He twirls it around with his thumb and forefinger before answering, avoiding meeting my eyes.

Victor: “During daylight hours we’ll decide what to do together. Of course, I’ll suggest activities I want to do, but you’ll be free to deny my suggestions or come up with your own.”

(Well, that doesn’t sound any different from what we always do.)

Kate: “What’s the catch?”

Victor: “The catch, my fearsome beloved, is that at twilight, you’ll have a choice to make. We can end our time together once the sun dips below the horizon. You’ll go to your bed, and I to mine. Or… We continue into the darkness of night where you will do whatever I want you to.”

(Well that’s an easy decision! He’s just doing what I prefer again.)

But as that thought crosses my mind, our eyes meet again. 

Suddenly, my breath feels constricted, my muscles lock up, and that heavy fog-like chill has me shivering in place. Looking into his eyes, I feel something primal. Something similar to that moment when he’d trapped me in his arms on the dining table but far more intense. Like a rabbit staring into the open jaw of a wolf. 

I hadn’t imagined that sensation from mere moments ago. Victor was showing me that side of him I’d so greedily decided to uncover. Despite all the blood and death I had seen on Crown’s mission, there was something more dark, frightening, and feral in Victor’s eyes than anything I’d seen before. 

Victor: “Consider your choice carefully, beloved. Continue to throw yourself into the abyss, and you’ll find it quite unwilling to let you go…”

My heart beats loudly in my chest as I shiver, unable to move and sweat beginning to bead on my brow. The pressure I feel from Victor’s hungry stare is almost too much to bear.

He tucks my hair behind my ear, and I take a gasping breath as that ominous pressure is relieved. I quickly stand on my feet, more on instinct than by any rational decision. 

Kate: “I-I should go see Elbert and Roger. We… We have to, um...”

Victor: “Discuss the details of your mission?”

My voice had trailed off as my mind scrambled for an excuse, but Victor finished my thought for me, his tone sly and teasing.

I was still shaken from… Whatever that was, but in spite of that primal terror Victor had stoked in me, I began to feel my cheeks heat as fear and something unnamed mixed together within me. 

(I need to go clear my head. If anyone else sees me like this..)

Kate: “Well, I’ll be off then.”

I hurriedly turn to the door, every movement feeling stiff and mechanical.

Victor: “Of course! As always, be careful and have fun!”

His jovial tone and the little wave he gave me did little to calm my racing heart, and I turned to dash out the door. 

I got a taste of what I wanted and it left me a shivering, confused mess. I know that I’m in love with Victor, and I know that I want to learn more about him, but…

Continue to throw yourself into the abyss, and you’ll find it quite unwilling to let you go…

Is it safe to continue forward into the dark? When twilight comes, will I know which is the right choice?

Previous Chapter (🌞) | Next Chapter (🌞)

[writingwithcolor]

Desexualized Mammy & Strong Black Woman, too busy for “frivolous love”

“Alyse” (Anon Submission) asked:

My science fiction story includes a black woman (Talia) who raises two children that aren’t her own and takes on two young adults as apprentices. One of the children she is raises has Arabic background and was taken into her home upon his father’s death (his mother’s whereabouts are unknown). She was a close friend of his father and the closest thing he had to a relative. The second child has mixed French-Latinx background and was taken in after becoming shipwrecked with no means by which to contact her people. Talia was the first non-hostile individual she encountered and one of the few who would so openly embrace a stranger. Since Talia is Master Medic (the highest medical authority in her community) she is training two apprentices (think residency) and eventually mentors the second child as well. She was once married and passionately in love but lost her husband to illness. In this setting, some technology we take for granted is inaccessible and violence against their people is commonplace. Most have experienced sudden loss. This particular loss was the catalyst that drove Talia into medicine- a desire to protect her loved ones and prevent others from experiencing similar tragedy. She is usually kind (though businesslike) but sometimes succumbs to a frigid, furious depression when, despite all her knowledge and determination, she can’t save someone. 

I worry that her maternal association with the two children (one of whom is an outsider) mires her in the mammy trope. On top of that, she hasn’t pursued romance since the death of her husband. I’ve considered giving her a romantic subplot but there are already so many characters to keep track of. Furthermore, I just can’t see her engaging in the frivolous pursuits of new love when she’s dealing with kids, students, and an extremely taxing career. 

In terms of race and culture in this story, practically every character can trace their ancestry back to populations displaced through war. Even Talia’s second child was shipwrecked during a botched evacuation from a military science lab. The people who live here have been isolated for generations and no longer have a real concept of their ancestry. Cultures have blended, new religions have formed, and many of our familiar racial/ethnic issues are forgotten. However, new and different but equally toxic ones have replaced them. In this way, Talia’s blackness doesn’t carry the same associations in her world as it would in ours. However, readers may still make these associations. Do you see any issues with her character that I could amend? 

So! You have:

A highly educated Black-coded woman (the highest medical authority in the community)

She raises two kids alone 

She also looks after two apprentices

She is widowed (not sure the race of the husband, was he Black?)

Having experienced heartbreaking love, Talia's drive to look after, protect and save people through medicine is a great motivation for the way she is. Her experiencing depression and taking losses seriously is also very human and is dynamic characterization. 

However, such characterization with Black women is prone to brush across several tropes. You have a Black woman who gives and protects, but what does she get in return? Who cares for her? 

Prioritize your Black character’s happiness

"I’ve considered giving her a romantic subplot but there are already so many characters to keep track of. Furthermore, I just can’t see her engaging in the frivolous pursuits of new love when she’s dealing with kids, students, and an extremely taxing career." 

Priorities, priorities. Is love a frivolous pursuit in her eyes, or yours? Because I strongly disagree. You probably don't mean to but you, as the author, having an excuse to NOT give the Black woman romance is showing that you do not think she's worth being loved. TV viewers and stans who are uncomfortable when Black women characters have relationships find similar excuses to explain away not wanting BW in relationships.

"She's too strong and independent for a man/relationship" 

"I liked her better alone." 

"It'll take away from her character."

“A romance doesn’t feel right for her”

These sorts of statements above are grounded in racialized misogyny. 

Relationships do not lessen the woman.

Relationships does not lessen Black women. 

Love

Whether that love is romantic, familial, or friendship, it can come in many forms. Give Talia love. Because Black women characters deserve it! Either one or all! 

Let her have a loyal best friend, a cat, and a girlfriend. Because why not? And not to downplay the love of children to parents, but please provide her love beyond what she gets on a maternal level from the children she looks after. 

The stories that Black women are in today severely lack love for us, so why add to the narrative of Black women being all work and no play, and too [insert excuse here] to be loved? 

Of course, you didn't provide all the details from your story, but I'm not seeing much of a balance from the struggle. She is a caretaker, teacher, doctor (or doctor-like figure). 

Her position and background in itself is okay. It's the Strong Black Woman being presented with seemingly no commentary that strikes me. 

Where is her team to help balance the weight of the world? 

Who takes care of her when she's depressed from another loss? 

What does she get in return from taking an emotional and physical toll to heal her community? 

Do those around her recognize all she does for them and offer their friendship? 

When does she get to relax and turn off the need to be everything for everybody?

Fitting love into a book with many characters

There are many books with several characters to keep track of. People tend to manage. Also, I'm sure some of those characters are in and/or out of relationships. Even stories that couldn’t be classified as romances have relationships of some sort. It’s unrealistic to have a ton of characters and none of them be in relationship(s) of some sort. Not when there’s so many forms of it and many sexualities. 

Friends, frenemies, enemies, romance, affairs.. Relationships make stories (and life) interesting. By no means do I think adding these dynamics harm your tale. And what’s one more for a hard-working Black woman who sacrifices a lot and clearly deserves a shoulder to lean on? And, if you use an existing character to be that friend, family, or lover, then you won’t need to pencil in another character.

For romance specifically - I think a misconception when it comes to including romance in stories is that they have to somehow take over the story. Romance does not have to bombard the plot nor be described in lavish detail. Not every story is a romance and those sort of details aren’t everyone’s style or things they’re comfortable with. A sentence or two establishing relationships does not take away from the story.And how those relationships look and affections expressed will vary based on the characters, sexuality, etc.

Not every character needs to have a deep level of detail. 

“Katie and Lisa, a newly engaged couple, walked into the meeting.”

“Jack and Jamie are a married couple in their 40s.” 

“The two met in college. After two months of blissful courtship, they eloped, eager to start their happily ever afters. Twenty years together, they were still blissfully in love and never too far from one another.”

Sentences like the above are enough for some characters. You don’t always need to put in paragraphs worth of relationship-establishing details or plot. 

When it comes to the characters whose love you would like to highlight, at least a bit, you still don’t have to go over the top.

Use subtle details. 

“As soon as Talia’s back was turned, he gave her a longing look before shaking his head and getting back to the patient.”

“He squeezed her hand before taking hold of the stethoscope.”

“She kissed her wife goodbye before racing out the door.”

“You mean the world to me.” he had said, holding her face. Those words stayed with her all day, making her heavy load light as a sack of feathers.

“She soaked his shirt with her tears and he just held her tight, saying nothing, silently holding her together.”

As for Talia specifically…

Talia having the mindset you described, as love being frivolous and not a priority, is understandable knowing her background (I just don't agree with you as the creator using this as a means to keep her alone. Whether she’s romantically alone or without close friendships). She has lost so much, and continues to experience loss with patients. This can be extremely traumatizing. I gave some examples of being subtle, so perhaps that will help with the burden of feeling a thick subplot of romance doesn’t fit in your story. 

And as Talia doesn’t strike me as someone who would go looking for companionship, what if she stumbles upon it without trying? Is there someone on the medical team that can offer her friendship? Someone who admires her and feels the urge to care for her that she feels the same for, or has pushed feelings down for? What happens when she can’t hold those feelings down anymore?

Takeaway

Talia deserves healthy love, even if she doesn’t believe it or feel she has time for it. That love can come in any and many forms, not necessarily romantically required, although it is a plus. A struggle-ridden novel is balanced by love, support and rest for characters that hold the weight of the world. If you do not, evaluate why you want to write Black characters in these struggle roles without at least a social commentary. 

~Mod Colette

[flickeringart]

Minor aspects

While the nature of the major aspects in astrology is quite straightforward and has been covered more than sufficiently, there’s still a lot of fog surrounding the nature of the minor ones. There are a lot of minor aspects that can be taken into consideration when interpreting a chart… however, since they are labeled minor they won’t be as obvious and much more difficult to spot in one’s own life. Note that this doesn't mean that they aren't impactful. There’s a lot of speculation and vague terms used when describing them. It seems that every minor aspect is said to have a “spiritual/creative dimension” as if that is supposed to clear up any of the mystery surrounding them. Perhaps, on one level, we don’t want to pin them down too much because certainty is the enemy of exploration. Or perhaps it’s the case that the aspects themselves don’t want to be pinned down? There’s an appeal in keeping certain things mysterious in our lives, to avoid defining and putting rigid labels on phenomena. It makes life alive and beautiful. Many people dismiss astrology is because they are afraid that they’re going to be reduced to a set of characteristics and have their personality mapped up to the point of being able to predict and foresee patterns of behavior and fated themes. The fear of knowledge is not irrational; it is probably healthy to an extent. Knowing too much can be dangerous and rob life of its magic. “Curiosity killed the cat”, as the saying goes. However, this is not the whole truth because curiosity also leads to expansion and better understanding, so let’s not be afraid to concretize these aspects, it's not the same as "killing" their potential. Life is never completely in our hands anyway, there's no risk of knowing it all.

Quintile (72°)/Bi-quintile (144°)

These aspects are said to have something to do with individual style and quality of creative work. It is suggested that these aspects say something about a mental-creative process of imposing one’s mind on a particular subject. It is also linked to talent and gifts the individual would possess that have not been actively learned. Basically, it seems to be indicative of the particular way a person would approach a subject. For example, the quintile would not describe the activity itself - the activity could be painting, knitting, running, cleaning or whatever – the quintile/bi-quintile would point to the way the person approaches the activity.

For example, Ted Bundy (whose chart I’ve explored a bit here), has Neptune bi-quintile the MC. Neptune, being the planet of illusion hints to Bundy’s quality of being a chameleon, deceiving the public as part of his personal style.

Prince Harry, (whose chart I’ve touched upon before), has his Moon bi-quintile Neptune. The Moon can be indicative of the mother figure, and his mother Princess Diana certainly had an elusive style and charm that was a bit deceptive and seductive. Of course, he would have the same thing going in his own life but it would perhaps be difficult for us to spot. He also has Moon quintile Venus and he definitely has a style/quality of emotional-physical comfort. He has Pluto quintile the AC, which would point to a style of showing up in the world that is powerful and intense. He has a tendency to come off as destructive and chaotic at times. There’s also a quintile aspect forming between Mercury in the 8th house and the MC which would hint to a public image that is colored by the “taboo” things he has said about his family in the recent present, but also in the past. He’s a public image that is aligning with the style of the playful amoral trickster.

As I’m going with charts I’ve already explored, let’s look at the quintiles in Meghan Markle’s chart. Her Venus is quintile Uranus and it perfectly describes her style of “wokeism”, that is, appearing to be objective and intelligent about feelings and affective values. She has a style of being “the loving humanitarian”. Whether she is this way in an actual sense is debatable. The quintile aspect is describing the quality and style not the actuality. But, it is disturbingly close to reality that it somehow becomes reality. It’s like the actor who adopts another energy signature in order to portray a different person. It doesn’t really matter if a person is rotten at the core - if he has a loving way of being, what difference does it make? The style is real enough to not reflect and give the impression of love.

Semi-square (45°) / Sesquiquadrate (135°)

These aspects are said to precipitate events. The nature of these two aspects is more immediate than the square aspect (which causes tension and doubt and needs constant navigation). The conflict represented is usually unconscious and is therefore not easy to identify. However, as these conflicts tend to manifest quite abruptly, we can take a look at the concrete problems the person faces. The planets connected by a semi-square/sesquiquadrate aspect will be in conflict but force some kind of release (that may result in an accident because of it’s autonomous/unconscious function).

I have Saturn sesquiquadrate my Moon. Since I tend to unconsciously block my emotional responses, the pressure builds and I am “forced” to get out of a situation, “forced to listen to my emotions”. I have encountered the theory that the sesquiquadrate in particular is manifesting as something that is looked down upon societally. This would make sense considering the aspect forces a breakout of one of the planets and nothing that is immediate and abrupt is ever favorably looked upon when it comes to social-societal structure and predictability. I have been meaning to take on commitments that would further my status in society in terms of formal education (Saturn in the 9th conjunct the MC) but I have not been able to do it without considerable decline in my emotional well-being. So, I have been “thrown out” by unconscious forces every time I’ve tried.

My sister has her Venus sesquiquadrate Saturn. She’s known for her deliberate and strategic way of dressing. She plans her outfits carefully, there’s nothing haphazard about the way she presents herself. However, she has Lilith conjunct Venus so she can push the limits and simply do what she pleases sometimes as well when the pressure of Saturn becomes too much. But, this often causes external judgment. A relative of mine has her Sun semi-square Venus. I can tell that she’s highly aware of her appearance. She is very pretty but there’s always something that is a bit off between what she wears and her self-expression. It’s like it doesn’t quite fit and it’s irritating.

To get back to the celebrities, Meghan Markle has Neptune sesquiquadrate Mercury. Is it possible that this forces distortion and vagueness in opinion and communication? It would certainly fit the bill. She also has Uranus sesquiquadrate Mars. She simply has to “break out of her confining situations”, cut people out of her life and move on in her own way. Uranus is also sesquiquadrate her MC, which seems to point to her unconscious pull to “do what she wants to do” at the detriment of her public image and reputation. Notably, Uranus sits in her 5th house of personal enjoyment and creation.

Prince Harry has a semi-square between Mars and Pluto. When he is angry it blossoms into rage and he can’t see straight. It has gotten him into quite a lot of trouble and societal-social disapproval. It seems that this is a common theme with the sesquiquadrate and semi-square. He also has his Moon sesquiquadrate Jupiter. Isn’t it the case that he tends to indulge in a way that makes him look bad in society?

Quincunx (150°)

This aspect is typically found between planets incompatible by element and mode. Basically, they have nothing in common and have a hard time cooperating, which will cause minor stress in the individual because of necessity to work around the incompatibilities. The planets are not in direct conflict but they are uncomfortable with each other.

For example, I have my Moon quincunx Mercury. Every time I sit down to write I’m mildly disturbed by little things like an aching back, a headache, restless legs or whatever. It’s not very comfortable for me but I can still keep with it, however it might take a toll on me health wise. The quincunx has been related to health issues because of the mild stress that it causes. It is manageable and one is usually able to cope with the stress, but it’s not very pleasant. Because it is not as demanding as more disturbing conflicts in one’s life, it’s in the background causing irritation.

Meghan Markle’s Venus makes a quincunx aspect to her MC. This suggests that she has a hard time reflecting her value on a public level, it’s as if how she’s perceived publicly disturbs her sense of ease and comfort. She has an Aries MC with a Virgo Venus and she’s continuously depicted as a bully these days, as some kind a selfish and aggressive bitch (the more negative attributes of Aries). This must be undermining her self-worth immensely, however, it’s perhaps too minor of a problem to do anything about. It is still there nonetheless, harping on in the background, breaking her down and causing slow disintegration…

Semi-sextile (30°)

Planets forming semi-sextile aspects are said to be able to aid each other, to have a better connection than if they had no link at all. Usually one planet is in the sign that comes before the sign of the other; in other words, a semi-sextile might be forming between Mars in Aries and Venus in Taurus. The semi-sextile usually connects consecutive sign like this, but planets could be in semi-sextile in the same sign, like Mars in 0° Taurus semi-sextile Venus in 30° Taurus. In any case, the planet placed at an earlier degree or in the earlier sign can draw on qualities of the planet in the later degree or the later sign and vice versa. For example, Prince Harry’s Venus in Libra is semi-sextile his MC. He can draw on his sense of harmony a diplomacy to benefit his public image. His Mars in Sagittarius is also semi-sextile his MC, which makes it so that he can draw from his Martial qualities of energy and action to influence his career and success.

Parallel/Contra-parallel

These are called aspects in declination because they are measured by latitude and not by longitude. This essentially means that two planetary bodies can aspect each other in a certain way measuring the distance between them north-south of the celestial equator. Two planets at the same degree north and south of the equator form a parallel aspect and can be interpreted the same as a conjunction (some say that it's more obscure like a quincunx/semi-square). Two planets opposite each other north and south form a contra-parallel aspect and can be interpreted as an opposition (some say that it's basically the same as the parallel though).

I have found, looking at my own chart that these aspects only confirms already existing aspects measured by longitude or it confirms the sign that a specific angle is in. For example, my MC is in Aries and it is also parallel Mars. Mars is the ruler of Aries so it emphasizes my already martial MC. My Sun is conjunct Saturn and it’s also parallel Saturn. My sister has a Scorpio MC and it’s also parallel Pluto, the natural ruler of Scorpio. For example, my sister has a wide Moon-Mars conjunction (6°) but they are also in contra-parallel. How is this supposed to be interpreted? I would simply see it as Moon-Mars is connected strongly despite the orb being a little wide with the conjunction.

However, it’s not always the case that parallel and contra-parallel aspects only confirms already existing influences. They can also add themes and connections. My sister doesn’t have any longitude aspects between Saturn and Uranus but they are contra-parallel to each other.

Septile (51.43° - a 1/7 of the 360°)

It is said to indicate a hidden flow of energy between the planets involved, an inner sensitivity to the spiritual dimension of the planets. Another description I have come across is that the planets “darkly interact” and there’s an occult theme surrounding the connection.

I have Venus septile Jupiter in my own chart. Going by the said method of interpretation, it would mean that I have sensitivity to the hidden wealth and underlying beauty and abundance in life. I think it is quite accurate.

Novile (40° - 1/9 of the 360°)

Is said to be describing a contact of perfection/idealization. It also seems to have something to do with spiritual awakening and growth, lack of fear and freedom.

Having Sun novile Saturn for example could be interpreted as a feeling of communion with the world and life itself through responsibility and the control one can exercise through self-expression.

----

There are of course other minor aspects to explore, but I'll stop here for now.

[lesyasun]

A while ago I received an interesting question about game aesthetics. The person in that ask really struggles with downloading stuff and finding their own style. They asked me how I came up with what you see on my screenshots. Have you ever thought that you can recognize whose screenshot this is by just a quick glance? Is editing important in photoshop? How to take beautiful screenshots? Today let’s talk about how different one single game could be for each of us and what really makes this mysterious “sims aesthetics”.

EDIT: Sorry, it turned out to be huge with lots of random thoughts :D I hope at least one percent of these is useful!

NOTE: English is not my native language, I apologize for possible grammar or spelling mistakes. I tried my best in writing this!

Ok, let’s imagine that you’re a person who just obtained the sims game or just want a nice fresh start and demolished your download folder. (We all need fresh starts sometimes, right?) The struggle is that you have no idea which style you like the best. There are so many sims blogs. Everyone seems to enjoy what they post but you’re a little bit lost in that jungle. Don’t worry! I’ll try to guide you and share my thoughts.

STEP 1 Choose your general style

I roughly divide all sims blogs that I see on my dashboard into a couple of so-called styles. I’ve been doing it in my mind for ages. I like following different people and seeing diferent editing. None of them are better than others. I hope you understand that it’s just a matter of liking. Ok, here we go. Let me put this sorting hat on you :D

1. Realistic 

Screenshot by @luchiatores

Perhaps, it’s the most important thing that you should decide for yourself. Wether you should use realistic textures in your game or you’d prefer to stick to more cartoonish maxis match ones. Why is it so important, to my mind? I like things that match. Just imagine game Witcher 3 where characters and surroundings are realistic. And now imagine Minecraft where things are pixelated. Both games are great, both games have certain beautiful styles. And now imagine Geralt hunting for monsters in a pixelated Minecraft swamp. A bit strange, isn’t it? :D The same applies to Sims. If you put a super realistic skintone on your sim and put a Maxis ponytail, that would probably look strange too. If you choose this style, just try to dig for a good quality content, start following simblrs in this style. Unfortunately, I’m not an expert when it comes to realistic content. So, try to drop an ask to someone whose realistic game you like. There are so many helpful people around in the sims community no matter what style they have :)

2. Trully Maxis Match

screenshot by @whattheskell

This is a complete opposite of a realistic style. I’ve always called people who use a lot of original maxis textures “trully maxis” :D If you can decorate a house without any custom content, if you like the way original hairstyles look, if you like Maxis clothes, you should go this way. From what I’ve spot after being so many years in the sims community, “trully” maxis simblr are so creative when it comes to storytelling. The stories that they write about either their sims/or maxis premades are so breathtaking. So much drama, so much fun. The only thing that I write about my screenshots is “Ok, this is my cat! Look, it can eat flowers and puke afterwardst! Yay! Cute”. If you choose this way, I can recommend you to check out @holleyberry, @didilysims or @moocha-muses. Obviously there are a lot more blogs that I follow. These people are just so sweet and helpful and they’re first who came to my mind. 

3. Bright Maxis Matchery

screenshot by @muupi

This is where I refer myself to. This style is still Maxis but what stands out is the use of bright colours and saturated photoshopped pictures. Ah, my love for overedited pictures is endless <3 This is what I’m going to talk a lot below since it’s my cup of tea. It’s all about colours and pallete addiction. If you love looking at super bright/silly/cheery screenshots and they boost up your mood, than join the squad! 

Basically, Maxis match (I’ll just shorten for MM from now on) players avoid super shiny skins or hair textures and prefer to have content with Simlish letters instead of English ones. This is a very important factor for me when I choose paintings or prints for T-shirts. I don’t know, I feel like it’s so cute that sims can’t understand our languages, talk this funny gibberish simlish language. It’s cute! There are so so many people that I can recommend. @lina-cherie @keoni-chan @kahlenas They are first who came to my mind <3

4. Grungy/cosmic

screenshot by @lilithpleasant 

I don’t know if these are suitable words :D But this is how I describe people’s game who like aliens/supernatural sims/grungy textures with or without bright colours as well. Just think would you prefer a bit of a grungy stuff or less-textured but cleaner MM? You always need to think about textures while you download stuff. I can recommend to check out @pooklet or @furbyq-sims 

5. Semi

screenshot by @whysim 

You might ask me “Why am I not allowed to put a realistic skintone on a maxis sim? What the hell?” Of course, you are! Do it please, if you want. There are no rules, no restrictions. You CAN go semi-realistic, you CAN mix patterns, you CAN mix colours. There’s only one rule: please, enjoy what you do. Don’t be afraid to share your pictures on the Internet. There will always be people who can judje your style and say: “meh, it’s too dull, meh, it’s too bright, meh, too shiny, meh, too plain meh, meh, meh”. Just don’t pay attention and enjoy your game. As for semi-realistic I can recommend such wonderful people as @marvelann @lilith-sims @falkii @knowledgeaspiration 

A bit about my style: I’ve always loved cartoonish/bright style. I’ve never ever played with shiny textures. Before Tumblr era I just played either without CC or with a bunch of maxis recolours. How I came up with the idea of cartoonishness? Pretty simple. It’s a part of my personality, I think :) I’ve always loved Disney/Pixar movies. Cartoons just make life a lot funnier! They make me happy. I’m a pre-school teacher after all :D. You can’t imagine how many cartoons I’ve watched throughout my life. I can quote Peppa Pig and will never be tired of that :D Before Tumblr I just played some funny legacies (I’ve never finished any though :D) When I found out about Tumblr, and such great content that can make my game even more Disney looking, it just blew my mind! Every time when I download stuff, I imagine that I’m watching a Disney/Pixar or whatever studio cartoon. When I create sims, I feel like I’m a cartoon designer. Pretty silly, right? :D 

Let’s take a look at my screenshots from the past. I tried to find similar ones with a lot of greenery.

2014

2021

I stil like a lot of greenery. Editing has changed, photo angles have changed. But bright colours and Maxis stuff are forever in my heart <3

Risa (2014)

Gage (2021) 

As I’m a big cartoon addict, I love recreating game/anime/cartoon characters. No matter, if they’re my favourite or requested ones. I love when my sims have different traits. I love when they’re funny looking/clumsy/absent-minded or when they’re evil/supernatural. When they are pirates/detectives/vampires or witches. This is my way of playing Sims. I love this game as it gives us possibilities to show your creativity, a chance to recreate our favourite characters. A chance to be a writer of storylines or if you’re bad at telling stories, just being “a cartoon designer” like me :)

STEP 2 Colour palettes

If you’ve chosen the path of “bright maxis matchery” than colour palettes are super important! Oh, you can’t imagine how addicted I am to certain colours. I can download GBs because of it.

Here are some of my favourite colour palettes:

1. Anna’s colours

My absolutely favourite palette. I would download absolutely anything in these pretty colours. Just looking at them makes me so cozy *0* There’s a photoshop action for those who want to recolour CC in this palette.

2. Poppet’s colours

I especially like the latest one. So pretty! @poppet-sims is the queen of lovely recolours. She has some more palettes. But “Back to Basics is my favourite”

3. Eversims colours

@eversims has got a lot of pretty colour palettes. But the most iconic one is Ever So Lovely

So, these are the basic colours that I like downloading furniture/clothes with. 

There are a couple more pretty palettes that I like:

Huning’s Pony Colours

Back in the days it was my ultimate favourite one. But these days I edit my pictures in Photoshop excessively and prefer calmer colours and add bright layers in photoshop instead.

Nyren’s Kosmic Colours

If you’re more into pastels, than try to download some stuff in this pretty palette.

You might wonder if I use all of these colours. Of course not! I have a selection of colours that I use: apple green, sky blue, yellow, red, pink, orange, purple, teal, mint. I absolutely love combining 2 or 3 of these in my interior shots. I also love choosing my sims’ favourite colours and dressing them/decorating their bedroom in this certain colour(s).

For example, my sim Mia likes apple green/purple and mint.

I think @deedee-sims can relate. While I prefer choosing a favourite colour per sim, she chooses favourite colour for the whole family!

This is a great idea, I think! :)

STEP 4 Bodyshop stuff

Ok, I hope it’s clear that I’m colour palettes addicted, now let’s move onto actual custom content and what I prefer adding to my game. I decided to divide CC by sections. Let’s start with Bodyshop.

4.1 Skintones

Another important thing that you need to choose for yourself. There are tones ofoptions. I’m going to recommend only MM skins as obviously I have no idea which realistic or semi-realistic ones are high quality.

screenshot by @deedee-sims

If you prefer trully maxis skintones, I recommend you to try Leh’s skintones. It’s super close to original ones in terms of shades. Also look at those button noses! These cute noses is the reason why I started using this skin back in 2014. But later I switched to Lilith’s feather as I wanted more variety and those noses there got a lovely shine.

It was my default skin for a lot of years. These days I own every possible skintone by Lilith and various blends by other people.

Lilith’s Alien Flavor

Lilith’s Android Skin Edit

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend v.2

Lilith’s Apple Pie Skinblend

Lilith’s Apple Pie by Kahlena

Lilith’s Feather Skinblend

Lilith’s Feather Skins 

Lilith’s Feather by Sim-Strangers

Lilith’s Feathers Colourful by Berrynooboos

Lilith’s Honey Supernatural Custom

Lilith’s Honey with freckles

Lilith’s Honey with no freckles

Lilith’s Honey Unnatural by Berrynooboos

Pixel-danger-sims pastel skins

Here’s a very handy set-up by Vimpse with Lilith’s skins being townified.

Try to choose one set of skins or download all of them by one certain creator. I need a lot of skins because I love creating tones of sims and I want to make them various looking.

4.2 Eyes

 ♦  Polaroid ♦ - my favourite

♦ Transcendental ♦

♦ Sleeping Lion ♦

♦  Sharp Eyes ♦

♦ Shallowed in the Sea ♦

♦ Hand Outs and Punch Ups ♦

These are just some of my eyes. There are some more by Poppet, by Kahlena. And I have various addons to these sets that I grabbed over and here. I remember having struggles of choosing only one set. But than I thought: why do I have to choose if I like all of them and want my sims to look as different as possible? I just love when they are cartoonish but high-quality with nice white clean sclera. Just look at Disney Rapunzel. You’ll see what I mean ^_^

There’s one little trick that most mm players do for making sims’ eyes bigger and rounder - adding a whiteline eyeliner by jesstheex. I personaly do it for every single sim of mine.

4.3 Makeup

I use tooooons of blushes, lipsticks and eyeshadows. I have everything by Lilith and Jesstheex. And lots of bits and bobs by various creators. I love using both matte or shiny textures. I sometimes add nose shine or use special nosemasks. There are various lovely things in my collection. What I can recommend you is to download a sim that you like by another creator with the help of Sims Clean Installer and just steal makeup from the sim to add to your collection *evil laughter* I recommend to do it because sometimes there are some mouth corners or various eyebags and etc which are difficult to find. It’s easier to grab them together with sims.

For example, I grabbed the shiny nosemasks from one of Lilith’s sims.

Sometimes I like adding a bit of shine on Sims’ noses. Some sims of mine don’t have shine. It really depends on a sim. But what I definitely like is cute button noses! I like using nosemasks to achieve that. I have all the masks by Lilith and these ones by kahlena.

4.4 Hair textures

Another important decision for you is the hair textures. I recommend you to choose one certain retexture. Back in the days, I used to have Remi’s textures

screenshot by @selenaq13 

I liked Remi’s ones because they were non-shiny. They had maxis colours and a really cool yellowish blonde! 

Receintly I switched to Simgarooped as I’ve always loved that there are 6 naturals. The yellowish blonde is still there! Plus my favourite Deedee-sims keeps updating every week with the retextures of new meshes <3

There are lots of various textures blends. Just search, download, play test. Think, if you’re ready to look at such type of hair hours of simming.

Also try to decide if you’d like to have more natural looking sims or go crazy and have supernatural/aliens. I used to have really bright sims with colourful skins and hairs.

Even my toddlers had unnatural hairs. It’s a lot of fun! But right now I prefer to create more natural looking sims though I like vampires/witches/aliens anyways!

screenshot by @honeylungsims 

If you would like to have colourful supernatural sims, check out Honeylung! She has the brightest and most unusual supernatural sims <3 

You’ll need a lot of face masks/bright lips/shadows. Check out @berrynooboos​ for the cutest alien CC.

4.5 Facial hair and Brows

I don’t think they should really match as long as they look great.

For example, I use eyebrows by @suratan-zir which are super cute and high quality but use Poppet’s textures instead of Simgarooped.

As for facial hair, I use some Poppet’s as well.

by Skoogy

by Poppet #1

by Poppet #2

by Simgaroop

4.6 Clothes

As I already mentioned, I love clothes in my favourite palettes. I love Simlish prints. There are so so many creators who share wonderful clothes.

I love @deedee-sims for age conversions, shoeswaps, morphs. I love @mdpthatsme for really cool 4t2 conversions. I love @moocha-muses for colourful T-shirts <3 Don’t be shy to send me a WCIF about a certain item of clothing.

STEP 5 Buy and Build

Tooons of bright recolours, IKEA items, Maxis add-ons, 3t2 and 4t2 conversions - all these things make my heart beat :D

These days I play in a rural-type world. I download a lot of craftsman-style build things, a lot of plants and garden deco.

I love bright wallpapers and greenhouses, I love clutter and kids CC for nurseries. Patterns with polka dots and plumbobs. Sunflowers and tulips. This is what I usually drop into my download folder :)

STEP 6 Taking screenshots

No matter which recolours and textures you prefer, I think high-quality pictures are important. The first thing that you need to playtest for yourself is a camera mod. It’s upo for you, but I can’t live without Gunmod’s Camera Mod. There are some more available, just check out.

Also lighting is important since Maxis original is terrible. I use Dreadpirate’s mod. 

I recommend to take screenshots in a camera man mode. Click Tab to enter it. Use W, A,S,D,E buttons to move right/left/up/down etc. And what’s important, use X and Z for zooming in and out. I always use Z for example, when I take close ups of my cats.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with angles. Try some artistic ones.

You can move your camera down and take a screen from below.

Or vice versa from above.

Sometimes I’ll just take a screen of my sims’ hands or feet. It really depends. I love spending hours on just “walking” in a camera mod around my sims houses.

Another useful feature of this mod is to use Ctrl +4,5,6,7,8,9 buttons.

These can fix the angles for you. And after fixing them, when you click on 4,5,6,7,8,9 you camera will go back to those positions. It’s very handy when you want to screen 2 sims who are talking and there’s no need to constatntly move camera from sidde to side. Just fix it and wait for them to perform cute emotions!

As a bonus, you can fic positions in the life mode too. For example, I always choose a proper angle from above where the wgole house can be seen. And wait for something cute/funny/to happen.

Also there’s such a thing as The Rule of Thirds. It’s the rule of photography composition. I always try to follow it :)

STEP 7 Photoshop Editing

I love oversaturated colours. It can be too much for someone’s eyes, but I like the brightness :) I’ll share some good Photoshop resources. Probably, one thing that I can recommend to absolutely everyone no matter how bright you want your screens to be is sharpening! Seems that Tumblr eats our picture quality for breakfast. Sims screenshots seem so blurry to me. I love sharpening them first.

I use sharpening from Kalekaloo’s action.

After sharpening I run the base from Eversims Action and then add some colour layers from Simburgerr’s one (I like gradients and fluffy lights layers especially). It makes the reds colours a little bit too saturated but I think it’s cute!

There are a some more cute actions and PSD files out there:

OhMySims - Action 1

OhMySims - Action 2

Sterina’s Action

Photoshop PSDs by Pleyita

Snapdragoned PSD

Mandragore PSD by Kiinuu

JellyBeanery’s Action

Roguebotanist

Nnilou - 12:51

A generic PSD by Knowledgeaspiration

Colorize IT by Bonnypixels

Colour Crush by Bonnypixels

Just Like Heaven by Pixeldemographics

For more tips/palettes/cute fonts I recommend you to check out @bepixeled

That’s all that came to my mind. I hope at least something was useful!

[ennaku-sirri-da]

Jimbit (Jimothan X Habit) watches a movie HCs courtesy of me and Mika [Part 4 ]

Jimbit( I literally love writing the ship name like one person) watching a movie and habit is in suspense so he grabs jimbo......Hes moving in closer😳(flustered emoji)

Honestly like all those ''I dont know personal space'' things Habit does that Jimothan was just like haha lol before must be really flustering now.

For sure!!! He’s trying to act cool but now he cant sit still hes not even really watching the movie

He’s watching....HABIT!!!!(plain text: Habit!!!)

He tries to do the (yawn, arm around you) thing but Habit thinks hes actually tired and gets up to grab him a blanket

Parsley in the corner: hey Kam could you reign in your husband over there god

Kamal: nah

Jimothan is like WHAT (plain text: What) can you sit down? please dont leave me this part is so scary actually!! what if the bad guy shoots him😭(sobbing emoji)

Parsley: dude hes destroying my dad over there WTF dude

Kamal: so? he should be used to it by now thats his problem

I’m sorry dude I’d help you out but Rose has me in a contract ''not to interfere with Jimbit’‘

(Rose is the Flower Kid of this AU and hes my self insert and a bitch😁(smiling emoji))

rose and buddy always tag along but only to supervise and giggle in the BG

(Buddy is my friend Mika’s sona\OC! And Habit plus Kamal’s other husband hee hee )

Parsley: Kamal please....For our friendship

Kamal: Parsley bro do you want me to live or die rn?

Parsley: What does that little kid even have on you? dude this is pathetic

Kamal: He said he'll steal my firstborn child

Parsley: What fucking child?

Kamal:um.....

Parsley: oh Kamal no not that shit again oh my god dude

Context: Kamal is a Marvel nerd and he believes hes pregnant\going to carry the Spiderman X Deadpool child across the astral plane. Hes really serious about his RP.

Jimothan is like Chellam (means something like Darling) please sit down🥺(pleading emoji)

Jimothan pulls out the nicknames when the situation is critical

🤭(giggling emoji) !!! Habit agrees to stay but only if the sleepyhead lets him hold Jim through the scary parts. Habit will be the blanket( He is very warm with lots of hair and fur!!!)

They sit like Habit behind him, sprawled out on the couch and holding Jimothan in front of him and trying to encircle him. if Jim wasnt sleepy before he sure starts to be.

Habit kisses him on the hair and hums into it. Imagine feeling that deep voice reverberating through you, holy shit. Also Habit copying the Buddy purrs....🥺(pleading emoji)❤️(heart emoji) 

Context: Buddy has cat traits!!

Parsley: Bro I can’t watch this. Can we just leave for a bit?

Kamal: Nope, I’m invested now.

 If it comforts you its the best feeling ever when he purrs into you like that. It transports me right to Habit Hell, heh

Parsley: I feel worse now

Kamal has popcorn and Pars needs a new friend group desperately. He is absolutely traumatized.

Parsley: I’m sorry but you all are a bit too '''invested''' in romancing my dang dad

Kamal: Does it help if I like your other dad more....If you could put in a good word with him that'd mean a lot actually--- (cut off)

Parsley: No and No

Context: Kamal thinks Trencil is hot and wants to be friends but they’re forever  un-friends after kamal yelled '’NOT TODAY SATAN!!!!’’ [plain text: Not today Satan!!!] at him when he was habitician-hunting with Mirphy (Mirphy and Kamal rounded up a lot of Habiticians for Habit starting out in this AU)

He almost staked him with a garlic necklace yelling. It was embarrassing.

So he’s just vaguely flustered around Trencil and Trencil ignores him LOL.

[ GIF: The Looney Tunes end screen with ‘’Thats all Folks!’’ in cursive. The BG is a red circle in progressively smaller parts with shading. The innermost circle is dark blue. end ID]

For now!! 😁(smiling emoji)

-----------

For @zeromet A very talented person whose @askpabit blog you should check out...!!

And heres the fanfics you asked for! (not by me)

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1460020 (links to The Habit-Botch Fambily [translated: The Habit-Botch Family] by asandygraves on Ao3)

They are extremely sweet and I hope you enjoy reading them if you have time and\or can! I think this is what got me into Jimbit haha...🥰(smiling face surrounded by hearts emoji)

[fernpost]

Cycle 0 - Interviews

[read on ao3]

[next]

Taako Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in transmutation and inventive magical applications.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

Davenport likes to think of himself as calm and composed. It’s hard to throw him off. He has to be in order to have gotten this far in his mission as fast as he has.

But when he turns around from shutting the door to see his interviewee with his feet kicked up on the table, twirling a wand through his fingers, he’s a little shocked. He’s been doing these interviews for two days now, and even the more relaxed and confident people have held a bit more sense for decorum.

It’s a bit rude.

It’s also a little interesting.

He sits at his desk, pulling the elf’s papers away from his boots (shiny, and though they look expensive he can see they’re worn down and well taken care of) and glances down. “Tell me, Taako Taaco, what makes you want to explore the planerverse?”

“Bored.”

If the feet on the desk threw him off for a second, that floors him entirely. “Bored?”

“I’ve got nothing else to do on this plane, why not, you know?”

“No burning desire to go further than any being has gone before?” That’s one of the normal responses, the well-planned out speeches he keeps getting in response to his opening question.

The elf crosses his feet, leaning back somehow further into the provided chair. Davenport worries for a second that he may fall as he continues on, “that’s cool too, I guess. But I figure, why wouldn’t you want the great Taaco name aboard your ship.”

Davenport picks up a pen from his table and makes a small note on the paperwork, “no offense, Mr. Taaco, but you’re rather cavalier about this interview that determines whether or not you’re accepted into a program that may redefine our understanding of the world.”

The elf shrugs and takes his feet off of Davenport’s desk, flashing him a smirk, “you’ve seen my sister’s paperwork, yeah? No way you’re not going to accept her, and we’re a package deal. Says it right there in bold at the top of my application, my man.” It does, in fact, say that at the top. Cursive words noting how he refuses to accept any position on the ship if his sister isn't there too. When reviewing who he was interviewing today, he saw similar words on Lup Taaco’s paperwork.

“You’re very confident in your sister’s abilities.” Davenport begins, pausing for a second as he notes the way the elf begins to tense up before continuing, “however, I wouldn’t sell yourself so short. You also graduated top of your class, and excelled in the art of transmutation multiple times. One of your letters of recommendation even noted how you made many spells easier to cast, somatically speaking.”

“What can I say, I’ll find any short cut I can.”

Davenport makes another note on his paper. “Now, I do need to ask about your record of petty theft.”

“Oh, natch.”

Lup Taaco. 114. Elf. Wizard; Specialization in evocation and applied magic regarding planar research.

Previous experience: Top of class at Tredore, Academy of Magics and Technology; recently graduated.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of petty theft.

“Lup Taaco, it is nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Captain.” The woman in front of him smiles. The resemblance to her brother couldn’t be more clear, and though her demeanor is quite similar, she at least doesn’t have her feet on his desk.

Not that his desk is anything fancy, but the point stands. “I’m not technically the captain yet, you know.”

“Potato, potato.”

Davenport is fairly certain that’s not how that phrase is used. “You did research into the planes at Tredore, correct?”

“Quite a bit, yeah. I’m sure my brother told you?”

The slight tilt of her head and lit of her voice tells Davenport this is some sort of test, which is confusing and a bit disconcerting, considering he is the one conducting the interview. He checks a quick box on his papers. “He talked you up a bit, yes. But this is your own interview, and I wanted to discuss your own knowledge with you, personally.”

She smiles, a touch more warmth to it than her previous attitude. “Oh, of course. Did quite a bit of studying at Tredore. First real school we attended. Kinda boring at times, you know?”

“If you’re accepted into this program, it’s going to be four intense months of studying and teaching you the more complex workings of the ship. Plus the two months of actually being on the ship.”

“That’s the fun stuff. Not a third semester in a row of another language I already figured out most of years ago.”

“How many languages do you speak, Ms. Taaco?”

“Including common, five languages.”

“Impressive.” Davenport himself only speaks three. “Now, I would like to ask you about your criminal record, if you don’t mind?”

Her smile grew sharp as she laughs.

Honestly, he isn’t surprised. Her explanation is the same as her brothers. Grew up on the road, needed food and other items on occasion. Didn’t always run fast enough. Davenport can’t fault them, and certainly won’t hold it against them.

He glances down at her paperwork, about to ask another question about her education, when she speaks up. “I’ve got a question for you, Captain.”

“Oh?”

“The ship- we’re really going with the name ‘The Starblaster’?”

Davenport sighs. He knew this question was coming, but he was expecting it to come during a press conference from a reporter, not a potential shipmate. “Yes. To be fair, it was a communal name we put to a vote from everyone who worked on building the engine.”

Ms. Taaco smiles. “Dope.”

Barry J. Bluejeans. 37 years old. Human. Wizard; specialization in applied magic regarding bonds and planar research.

Previous experience: Current assistant professor at Duffman University of the Arcane, part-time employee at the Institute of Planer Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Previous altercations regarding necromancy; no crimes against the nature of life and death ever committed.

Mr. Bluejeans is an interesting man. By the look of him, you’d expect to see him fumbling his way through a PTA meeting for his two kids. Instead, Davenport is staring down the word ‘necromancy’ on his paperwork on an application regarding literal planar travel on a ship called 'the Starblaster.'

So far, the interview has been going well. He’d listened to the man explain his research into the arcane, and he’d understood planar travel as well as any of the current scientists and engineers at the Institute. He was called in often for conferences and meetings about the bond engine. He’d seen the man walking around on occasion. They’d never been in a meeting together before, but he’d seemed nice.

But he also had a history of necromancy.

Now, Davenport doesn’t like to judge people. However, being in an enclosed space with someone who needed to specify he had never technically committed “crimes against the nature of humanity” isn’t the most comforting.

But, he was a smart man. Easy to get along with, too. So far. Necromancy notwithstanding.

Best to get it over with, “so, Mr. Bluejeans. I do need to ask about your criminal record-”

“Oh! Yeah, I never killed anyone. Or un- killed anyone. Uh, resurrected, I mean. Just did lots of studying into the application of necromancy and necromantic spells. Got in trouble because I toed the line of ‘research’ and ‘bringing my cat back to life,’ but got a stern talking to. Didn’t try it again, and don’t plan on needing to deal with those types of authorities again.”

Okay, normal enough answer, far as the situation applies-

“My current research into it has stayed purely theoretical, and it won’t interfere with the mission at all.”

So the man is still into necromancy.

Davenport glances down at the man’s file, thick with it’s attached papers Bluejeans has done on planar research. He’s not even stuck up about his level of education, and that’s extremely rare for the field.

Holding back a sigh, Davenport asks, “Can you explain the paper you wrote on the outer planes interactions with the inner planes for me?”

It was a really good paper.

But the man is still into necromancy.

Lucretia. 20. Human. Chronicler; Specialization in journalism.

Previous experience: Due to multiple NDA, she is unable to give us the exact number and titles of books she has written, but she sent letters of recommendation from Duke Rensburg, Lady Norabelle, and Warren of the Seatree Clan.

Criminal Record: Acquisition and attempted use of a false ID.

“So, Ms. Lucretia, I understand you cannot provide us with most examples of your works, but from what you have provided, you seem to be very, very good.”

“I like to think so, yes.” The young woman in front of him seems polite. She’s quiet; he saw her waiting outside with a few others before her interview, and while most of them were engaged in some awkward small talk, she sat away from them. Likely partially due to her age- she is much younger than the people outside- but she also simply seems quiet.

Which wouldn’t be the worst quality in someone you would be sharing a small, enclosed space with for an extended period of time. But, if she couldn’t bond with the others sufficiently, the bond engine won’t work.

(Hell, the bond engine was already finicky, they figured out the tech only a month ago, and they only have four months to bond an entire crew to pilot it and-)

“Can you explain to me why you acquired a fake ID and tried to use it at a, uh,” Davenport glances down at the records in front of him, holding back a chuckle, “at the forbidden section of the Library of Runar?”

Lucretia looks uncomfortable for a second, and he’s sure if the lighting in the room were better he would be able to see her flush with embarrassment. She gives him a hesitant smile, “I can’t get into the explicit details, but I was working on a book for an older client whose memory was becoming patchy, and I wanted to confirm some details before I put their name to it. They wouldn’t allow me into the section without the proper documents, but my client refused to agree that I should double check his work, even though I was almost certain he was wrong, so I simply… found a way to get past their guard. I wasn’t going to steal anything and I was going to use the proper equipment to read through the documents.”

Davenport smiles, “pursuit of knowledge and truth is important to you, then?”

“I don’t think spreading lies, especially in that context, is very honorable, no.” Her hands are folded in her lap now, and she seems a bit more relaxed.

Considering the others he is planning on accepting, he may be wrong about her getting along with them. Anyone willing to break the law just to prove an old man wrong would at least get along with him. Davenport refuses to have any pushovers aboard his ship.

Magnus Burnsides. 19. Fighter; Specialization in protection fighting and mechanical engineering.

Previous experience: Current bouncer at Apex Club. Currently enrolled in Gallier’s Fighter Academy and College.

Criminal Record: One count of assault and battery, appealed for defense of another person present. One count of indecent exposure and public intoxication.

Davenport will be the first to admit it can be tricky to follow human aging patterns, but he knows he’s not mistaken in thinking the man in front of him is barely out of “child” territory. Nineteen is a very, very small amount of time to be alive. Also, a very, very small amount of time to learn important things, like how to run what is basically a ship right out of a science fiction novel- complete with breakthrough technology.

Despite this, it’s hard to not find the young man in front of him to be endearing, and mostly knowledgeable in the things they need him to be.

“Magnus. You’re very young, one of the youngest applicants we have. What makes you think you’re qualified as the head of security of the ship?”

The young man in front of him- Gods, he really is young- grins and lifts his arms to flex, a show of pride and ego almost unbefitting of an interview setting, “Have you seen my muscles? I’m very strong, and a very good fighter.”

Many of today’s interviews have been quite different than he was expecting.

“I was referring more to job experience.”

“Oh!” Magnus shifts in his seat, fingers drumming against the table as he thinks. “I worked as a bouncer for a club while I was in college and did, if I must toot my own horn, a very good job. You should have a letter of recommendation from the owner-” He leans forwards, reaching a hand out as if to look through his own files to show him the letter.

“Yes, I did read through it. She was very thorough in stating how eager you were to help.” Davenport glances down at the papers in front of him, holding back a sigh. It truly was a glowing review of this young man. While his grades from the aforementioned college weren’t the highest, especially in classes one might consider important for an institute of planar research, the two letter of recommendations he submitted from teachers of his explained how Burnsides was very persistent when he wanted to learn something he didn’t know. He also had taken quite a few classes regarding vehicles- not enough to claim the young man was an expert but enough to provide a solid basis to show him how things worked and could be repaired on the ship.

The kid’s attitude was something of a breath of fresh air in this place. However, there was one glaring concern.

“I was also a bit concerned about the criminal record we have on file for you. Assault and battery as well as the indecent exposure and public-”

“In my defense for the second one, I was drunk with some friends and maybe thought it’d be funny to streak in the lake. Who hasn’t been to a party that gets a little out of hand.” He holds his hands out as if to say “am I right?”

Off the record, Davenport is inclined to agree that he was right. On the record, he is choosing to ignore it. “And the assault and battery? The file says it was in defense of a young person.”

Burnsides grins, “that’s how I got hired as the bouncer!”

He waits a moment, expecting Magnus to continue. When it seems the young man is assuming that is enough explanation, he prompts, “by beating up a man outside the club?”

“Yeah! He was harassing someone outside, and I was walking home and passed by. I told him to step off, and he didn’t. So I decked him, and he was out right away.”

It lined up with the records he had, and honestly, seeing someone so ready to step up to the defense of a stranger was a good quality. Better than some of the older applicants who were much more… formal in their training. He wonders briefly how Burnsides would react to an altercation against someone with magic.

Glancing down at his records, he guesses he would run headfirst without thinking.

Stifling a small grin, Davenport continues, “Now, tell me. Assume we’re up in space, and something goes wrong with the bond engine. What would your course of action be, Mr. Burnsides?”

Merle Hitower Highchurch. 214. Cleric; Specialization in botany, religion, and medical treatment.

Previous experience: Current botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration. Professor of botany at Narvick’s University for four years.

Criminal Record: Multiple counts of loitering.

The door is pushed all the way open before Davenport can even call out the next person.

A short dwarf slides into the room with a wide grin, “hey Dav!” A mug of tea is pressed into his hands.

“Hello, Merle. You do know this needs to be at least a little formal, yes?”

“Formal schmormal. Ask me your silly questions already, bud.” Merle Highchurch, resident botanist at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration, plops right down in the seat he’d taken to commandeering once a week, for the past three weeks.

Davenport had seen him around before, but a botanist in an institute designed for exploring other planes that had little capabilities to actually go to those places yet was rarely busy, and even more rarely called upon. He still barely knew the guy, but after the day they’d gotten stuck in the elevator for ten minutes when it broke down, the dwarf had come to his office for tea each Wednesday.

It was a bit strange, but the tea was good.

“Tell me about your work experience.”

Merle laughs heartily, “they barely have me do anything around here, ‘cept tend to the couple of plants they’ve grabbed from the ground plane.”

“It’s the Elemental Plane of Earth, and don’t sell yourself short, Merle. This is basically a job interview, you know.”

Merle slurps loudly at his own mug, “aren’t you planning on nepotism hiring me, because we’re buds?”

“That isn’t even what that word means, Merle.”

“Isn’t it?”

Davenport stares into the tea, “is this made from the Earth plant?”

“Maybe?”

Davenport. 276. Captain and navigator; Specialization in mechanical engineering and arcane components combined with contemporary technology.

Previous Experience: Crewmate on the Lady Blue for twenty years. Graduated from Grensville University. Current staff at the Institute of Planar Research and Exploration.

Criminal Record: Unlawful resistance of orders from captain, raising of commotion on board ship while employed.

Davenport handed the six files over to Selune, “These are them.”

The halfling woman flips through them, eyebrows raising higher with each one she sees. “You’re sure you grabbed the right ones? A few of these I understand, but you do know we had the Issaiah Broler apply.”

He folds his hand in front of him, nodding. “I also know that during the interview he made me want to pour my tea on his lap. There’s no chance of getting the bond engine going with him. These are the six I picked. They’re all qualified- and the ones that are less educated in the specifics in the field I’m sure will pick up on the important information quickly. The Taaco twins already will give the bond engine a huge boost. Ms. Lucretia will ensure we have everything chronicled, something I’m sure you can appreciate, Selune. Mr. Bluejeans previous work shows he will thrive given the opportunities awaiting us. Mr. Highchurch is an educated man, and I trust him to keep the crew healthy and provide ample information on anything botany related we encounter, and I’m certain Mr. Burnsides will provide ample help in any task we show him how to do.” He sighs, glancing out the window of her office. There were a few people lingering outside in the courtyard of the Institute. “We have been given a tremendous opportunity to explore beyond what we can imagine, Selune. The last thing I want is to be bogged down by people stuck in their ways, who have been working in this field long enough to have their preconceived notions about what to expect and who will react badly when they’re proven wrong. I trust my own judgement in picking a crew, and I hope you trust my abilities to get these people ready to set sail in four months.”

What he doesn’t say is that he doesn’t want a bunch of stuffy jackasses on his ship. He’s not even sure picking all the over-qualified people would pass through the higher-ups' inspection of the crew. The people he picked were qualified enough to get a quick sign-off, but not too much. Anyone “overqualified” would probably get rejected. The ship had been built in basically six months. It’d get them off the ground, sure. It wasn’t going to explode on them once they got up there, but it wasn’t safe. There was a reason Davenport was the captain at all.

The six candidates in those files didn’t have a name for themselves as “important” to any stuffy scientific group or noble family. These people he picked were just that- people. A group of people who he believed deserved this opportunity. If anyone was getting the chance to make a name for themselves- to have the chance to redefine everything they know about the planar systems, he wanted to make sure they deserved the chance. A dangerous chance, sure. But what was science if not a little risky.

She sighs, opening the file on top. Her hand reaches for her pen, “Davenport, I got the final say on the name of the ship, I suppose the least I can do is give you final say on the crew.” She begins to write ‘approved’ at the top of the file, flipping through each one before giving him a pointed look. “But when I get angry calls about how you approved a bunch of nobodies and two people not even old enough to drink, I’m transferring them straight to your crystal.”

“And I will not be answering a single one.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Captain.”

[astro-rain]

delicate; b. barnes

chapter thirteen - “sober desires & the reminiscence of a winsome smile”

delicate masterlist

word count: 4k

synopsis: wakanda gets a visit from our favorite captain, two drinks is too much rum for a reticent psychologist, and bucky knows (& feels) more than meets the eye.

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

[A/N]: this took so long to write but WHEW this chapter!!!! pls let me know what you think >:D

The knock on the outside of his hut was followed by a deep accented voice, one that he had heard before.

"Sergeant Barnes?" it called.

Quickly enough Bucky was outside, facing the king of Wakanda himself. He wasn't sure exactly what to say. You see, the majority of their past interactions included the Black Panther trying to kill him. T'Challa was kind and Bucky trusted him. It was just... a little awkward given the history.

"Your highness," he greeted.

He smiled bashfully at the title.

"I have some news for you."

Bucky's head cocked to the side, curious. News? Should he be worried? He hadn't been expecting anything.

"Captain Rogers is on his way here. He was alerted about our recent complication with N'Jadaka," he said, referring to who Bucky guessed was who Y/N called Erik Killmonger, "and he asked to come check in, make sure you're okay."

Steve was coming. His mood was immediately uplifted. He hadn't seen his oldest friend for months. It was weird to have Steve feeling the need to make sure Bucky was okay; it was usually the other way around. Nonetheless, he was excited. And he had the sudden urge to tell Y/N.

- - -

READER

"Sharon. Hey," she said into the phone.

The friends hadn't spoken since Y/N left for Wakanda - security measures since Sharon helped Steve and betrayed the... well everyone.

"Y/N!" Sharon greeted. "How is everything? Are you alright?"

"Yeah, no I'm totally okay. The Killmonger thing was more the royal family's deal than mine. I was just hiding out in some bunker with Barnes."

Concerned weaved its way into Sharon's voice. "Oh my god. Did anything happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, historically, stress hasn't affected him well..."

She wasn't sure why she almost got offended. "No... he was completely fine. He doesn't lose control out of nowhere and turn into the winter soldier. It's a lot more complicated than that... We were fine."

"Oh, that's good. Listen... I'm actually on my way to Wakanda right now."

"You're-... what?"

"Steve needed to check in on Bucky after Killmonger. Wilson and I are coming too."

They must all be together. It makes sense considering what happened after the disaster in Berlin, and then the airport fiasco in Germany and then... everything in Siberia.

Aw, they're in hiding together, Y/N joked in her head. She almost laughed out loud.

"Oh. Is that safe? For you? For everyone?"

"I've been careful. We've all been careful. But, things don't always go as planned. And T'Challa feels bad about putting you guys in a dangerous situation when he was supposed to protect you."

"It wasn't his fault."

"I know. We all know. But, it's kind of his way of making up for it: letting us stay so that Steve can check in on Barnes and we can cool off for a bit."

"Was Rogers mad?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled that his best friend was trapped alone in a country that just got taken over..."

He wasn't alone.

"...he was mostly worried," Sharon continued. "Still is."

"Right."

"Alright, well I got to go. We'll be there in a couple hours."

"I'll see you. Be safe."

"See you."

- - -

BUCKY BARNES

"Hey Buck," the happiness in Steve's voice was genuine as he patted his oldest friend on the back in the middle of an embrace. "How you been?"

"A hell of a lot better than the last time I saw you, that's for damn sure," Bucky smiled.

Sam Wilson stood next to the star spangled man with a plan. Bucky briefly glanced at him.

"Wilson," he deadpanned.

"Barnes," he returned the greeting.

"I was worried when T'Challa told me about Killmonger," Steve said. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful that they let you stay here, but I just didn't think I'd have to be worried so soon."

"It's alright. Everything turned out okay and I was fine the whole time. You don't have to lose your head."

"I'm not losing my head."

"You never had it in the first place."

The blonde changed the topic of conversation.

"You were with that therapist right?"

"Yeah."

"What do we think about her?" he asked with equal parts caution and suspicion. "Do you trust her?"

Bucky wasn't sure why he was almost offended.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, you know what happened the last time you were with a psychiatrist..."

"Yeah well, this one doesn't have a personal vendetta against the Avengers."

"You sure she's alright?"

He looked serious, and Bucky could see the genuine concern etched into his friend's face. Steve was truly wary.

"I'm positive. She's helped so much since I've been here. I really trust her."

"Okay, if you say so. I trust you."

Bucky smirked. "Hey uh... is Sharon with you?"

Sam said nothing but radiated a smirk to match Bucky's perfectly, a kind of smirk that only a ball-busting best friend cracks.

"She is..." Steve replied. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering, that's all."

"She said she wanted to talk to a friend."

"Oh, she's probably with Y/N."

"Who?"

"Y/N. Dr. Y/L/N. 'The therapist.'"

"I didn't know they were friends."

"Why do you think Sharon recommended her?"

"She said she knew 'the best' person to help."

"That true. She's crazy smart."

"As long as she can do the job, I'm all for it, no matter whose friend she is."

In a short-lived thought, Bucky wondered what Steve Rogers would think of who else Y/N was friends with. He wondered if Steve would think it was strange to be friends with your doctor, or if he'd be pleased that Bucky had gotten close to someone, anyone else in this world.

"How long are you guys staying for?" Bucky asked.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. "Honestly, we were only planning on staying for like a week or so. We've been moving throughout Europe, and the other day, when we were in Prague... it was almost really bad."

"We need to stay low for a while," Sam added.

"What did you do?" Bucky asked, used to Steve getting himself into trouble.

"It's a long story..."

"What did T'Challa say about it?"

"He said to take as much time as we needed," Steve filled him in.

"You know, I'm startin' to really like this guy," Sam nodded, smiling. "Obviously when he went all cat murderer on you, he was a bit of a pain in the ass. But now? Guardian angel."

Bucky shook his head at Sam's nonsense. What an idiot, he thought. He wondered what Y/N would think of Sam, but then a more pressing question popped into his head.

"Where are you guys gonna stay?"

"I'm guessing there," Steve said pointing behind Bucky.

When he turned around, Bucky was shocked but he also wasn't. Behind and around his hut stood three more just like it, but slightly smaller. He could've sworn those weren't there yesterday, but that's the beauty of Wakanda. They were ten steps ahead of the rest of the world and he guessed that included speed building as well.

"I will never stop loving this place," he admired.

-

He tried not to sound too eager when he knocked on her door. She looked shocked but didn't really try to hide it.

"Oh," she sounded confused. "Hi, Bucky..."

"Hey," he grinned. "I have a proposition for you."

Her eyebrows lowered as her lips twisted into the most devilish smirk. She could communicate an entire joke with just her face.

"Not like that!" he exclaimed.

She laughed, smirk morphing into an endearing smile. "Like what then?"

"Steve wanted to have like a bonfire sorta thing to catch up since we're all together for once. You know, just like drinks and stupid stories from the forties. D'ya think you could part with your paper work to grace us with your presence?"

"Oh, uh... are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd love to have you there."

She wrung out her hands. "I don't know, Buck. Is that really appropriate? To have your doctor hangin' out with your friends?"

"That may be, but that's not what I'm asking. I want my friend to 'hang out' with my other friends."

Out of her composure seeped a meek smile. The air felt softer to him.

"And maybe you can analyze Wilson and tell me what his biggest fear is later," he added.

She snickered.

"Okay. Lead the way, James Buchanan."

-

The fire was a monster, roaring and crackling with all the life in the world. Bucky loved it. He loved the warmth, the heat, the lack of cold.

"I'm gonna get another drink," Y/N said. "You want anything, Buck?"

"I'm all set," he smiled, gaze lingering for only a second too long.

"Sharon?" she turned. "You?"

The blonde shook her head. "Oh, I think I've had plenty."

Surrounding the fire sat five chairs. All but one was empty as Y/N went to get her second drink. Of course they were in Sam's hut, Bucky thought. After all, even though it was Steve's idea, Sam was most excited about the whole thing, actually sitting down and just relaxing instead of fleeing from belligerent governments.

"Therapist's pretty," Sam noted with a smirk once she was out of hearing range.

"Y/N," Bucky corrected, mind going completely elsewhere. "She's so smart."

"Smart enough to call you Buck..." Steve said, catching on to Sam.

"What?"

"She calls you Buck."

"Yeah, so? You do too."

"Yeah, but I've known you longer. And I'm your friend."

"She's my friend too," he shrugged.

"She's your doctor..."

"And I'm a hundred year old man with one arm trying to get un-brainwashed in a country that the rest of the world doesn't even know exists. None of this is conventional."

"...fair," Steve said, with only a little bit of skepticism. "Are you guys close?"

Does spending hours alone talking with someone in a hidden bunker make you close? Does them comforting you after a nightmare and then subsequently allowing you to get the best night sleep you've had in forever? What about making daring voyages to quaint waterfalls and laughing a kind of laugh that makes your heart swell? What about-

"Buck?"

He shrugged. Again. "I guess so."

Sam narrowed his eyebrows. "How close?"

"Wilson," Sharon admonished exasperatedly. "Y/L/N's his doctor, come on. That's inappropriate to suggest."

Sam put his hands up in mock surrender. Briefly, just briefly, Bucky imagined kicking the leg of Sam's chair and watching him fall back. He didn't, obviously. But it would have been funny if he did.

The seemingly never ending conversation was cut short when Y/N returned, drink in hand, and took her seat next to Bucky.

"What'd you get?" he asked, demeanor subtly but swiftly changing into something lighter, something happier.

"I don't know, but it has rum in it," she shrugged sardonically before clinking her glass with Bucky's.

"Cheers," Sam raised his glass, trying to engage.

Y/N wordlessly, and with a half-smile, raised her glass in his direction.

"So," Steve started, comfortably crossing his legs and leaning back into his chair before asking Bucky, "you wanna know what actually happened in Prague?"

"Do enlighten me. I've been waiting all night."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

The rest of the night went on sort of like this. The group took turns telling stories and then listening. Cracking jokes and then laughing. Everyone but Y/N, Bucky noticed. She just... sat and drank, livelihood only extending to the borders of her seat.

He hadn't seen her like this before, and he found himself stuck halfway between confused and worried. Had something happened? Had something wrong been said?

He kept an eye on her as dusk melted into night. He told himself it was because he was concerned, but that was only in addition to the way he was magnetized to how she looked with the light of the fire gleaming on her skin.

After she would finish a drink, she'd stare into the fire for a little while, before leaving to get another. When he made sure no one was looking at him, he'd look at her. Discretely. At her eyes. The reflection of the fire in her pupils made him wonder if she would burn the fire before it could ever burn her. He was all too aware of the heat that accompanied her gaze. It was a ravishing burn that made him ache for the searing feeling as soon as it was taken away.

He didn't dare think of it for too long or else he would get distracted. And someone would call his name, pulling him out of a trance he didn't want to be caught in. A trance he wasn't sure he wanted to admit that he was in.

The night remained as such until someone - he couldn't remember who - said they were tired, and everyone bid their farewells, and wished their good nights.

Y/N spared about a side hug to Sharon before walking off on her own. Bucky half volunteered, half insisted on tending to the fire to make sure it went out, only to ignore it as soon as everyone was gone and follow after his psychologist.

He caught up to her as she was in the middle of opening the door to her living quarters.

"Y/N."

She turned around in the spot, door wide open, staring up at him.

He bore into her eyes, looking at something, noticing her dilated pupils and hazy stare.

"You're drunk," he said, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah."

"But you don't seem drunk?"

"I'm not wasted," she padded into the room, carelessly leaving the door wide open for him to walk through. "Just drunk enough to remember why I didn't drink in college."

She rubbed her eyes.

"Think I want another one," she sighed, heading for the door with a bitter smile. "More rum."

Bucky gently closed the door, maneuvering himself in front of it, and blocking her from exiting. Another drink is definitely not a good idea.

He changed the subject. "Why didn't you drink in college?"

Her eyebrows raised, introducing a look that said Really? You think I don't know what you're doing?

"Wow, look at you being the voice of reason for my otherwise inebriated brain."

Nevertheless, she cooperated.

She sighed. "It just... makes me miserable. I'm a sad drunk."

"Better than a mean drunk," he offered.

"Possibly. It's a real mood killer, though."

"That why you were off all night?"

"Off... ? I don't know, I guess so... I'm usually pretty inconspicuous when I'm drunk. Didn't think anyone would really notice."

There was no hesitation when he spoke.

"I did."

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. Just... why did you keep drinking if it only makes you miserable?"

"Alcohol is a depressant," she breathed mechanically, as if speaking was difficult. "It depresses your nervous system, then you get disinhibited. Then you don't care about rationality and just drink! Then in the moment it feels kinda good... but then it makes you sad... and then you need more to blur the feeling away. It's like... the worse you feel, the more you need to drink... but then the more you drink... the worse you feel..."

"How are you drunk but still talking... sorta still like you usually do?"

She smirked, looking like she was trying not to laugh. He was glad she was smiling.

"Maybe you're not the only one with heightened metabolism as a result of the serum..."

He looked at her quizzically, amused. She wasn't making total sense, but he couldn't find it in himself to give much of a damn. She smiled, again.

"Kidding. I just have outstanding self-control."

She plopped down on the floor, deciding that she no longer wanted to use her legs. Fine motor function was overrated for intoxicated people.

He sat down with her, next to her.

"If I tell you a joke will you be less sad-drunk?"

"I already am 'less sad-drunk.' I wasn't before, but," she took a breath in, "now you're here, so... improvements have been made."

"That's good 'cause I was worried before."

She glanced up at him with brazen eye contact. Her face held a mixture of what looked like a confused and pained expression, as something changed. Some sort of realization or reality check.

She wiped her hands over her face. "God, this is so ridiculous. I'm sorry. You shouldn't be worried about me, that's not your job. I'm sorry. I should just go to bed, and you can leave..."

"I know it's not my job. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I was alright- it... it's not like I was crying at the fire or something. I was fine."

"After your second drink, you were silent almost the entire time."

"You were counting my drinks?"

Not exactly.

"I was paying attention."

"To what?"

To you.

"You completely turned into yourself. Your elbows and legs were drawn in close to your body: unrelaxed and almost apprehensive posture. You were nonverbal, didn't make any jokes, no sarcastic commentary. I was literally purposefully saying things I knew you would correct or tease or laugh at and nothing. I was waiting for a 'smartass' or a 'there's a reason behind everything' explanation or anything science related. But there was nothing."

Her face was blank. It took her a second to catch up. Blinking slowly, she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed, all emphasis on the word. "Why?"

Her tone was truly confused. It was like she, in her heart of hearts, for the life of her, could not believe he was concerned.

"Y/N you're my friend," he chided. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She averted her gaze. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know."

"Look," his voice was soft. "I know you know everything and you know my mannerisms and micro-expressions and you know when I'm lying and whatever else 'cause you're a genius psychologist. But is it really that hard to believe that, after all the time we've known each other, I know you a little too? That I saw you for once instead of you always seein' me?"

"I think you're the only person who sees me."

The words leaked out before he thought to analyze them, tone lower than a whisper.

"Well I can't seem to look at much else."

He had never felt such potent silence. Did he just fuck up majorly? They just sat, on the floor, eyes glued to each other like twenty year old dried cement. He didn't think he could move away if he tried.

"I see you now," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Blue," she breathed. "Your eyes are so blue. I don't... think I've ever seen that shade of blue."

It happened exponentially slowly, but the closer her face got to his, the more his chest felt like it was going to burst in the best way possible. As if liquid light poured into his lungs, inflating his chest and igniting every nerve with adoration.

Her lips hovered over his so lightly it was as if it wasn't even happening, like her affection was a ghost. But it was happening, and he could feel it. He could feel the softness in her lips and the smell of the rum she drank as they combined into the wondrous dual sensation that permeated throughout his brain.

They weren't kissing by any stretch. Their lips were hardly touching. However, in that moment, he was at her mercy. He was prepared to bend the laws of nature to her will if she would allow the continuation of this feeling for even a fraction of a second more.

Until it stopped and she waned away like the moon bidding adieu to the morning sky.

Her voice shook. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't... it's-"

"No. It's not okay. It's not okay."

He leaned back, examining her face. She looked confused and embarrassed and scared.

"Y/N, it's fine. It's okay, seriously, don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry, I'm... I'm drunk and I'm disinhibited and it's affecting my judgement and making me impulsive. I'm sorry."

He couldn't be exactly sure, but it sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince him.

Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

She was silent, frozen. It reminded him of a past conversation about the fight or flight response.

Bucky stood up and offered his hand to the woman sitting on the floor in front of him. "Here."

She took it gingerly and stood up with him before wide eyes stared into his apologetically.

"Please don't feel bad," he pleaded. "Barely anything happened."

"Still..."

"Why don't you just get some sleep and we can talk tomorrow. I promise it won't seem like such a big deal when you're sober."

She nodded but they both remained motionless, hands still together. He knew they needed to let go, but her hand didn't move, and she just kept looking into him.

"Okay," she whispered.

She walked him to the door, hand still in hand, and until he was forced to let go of her to open it. He stepped, ever so slowly, out of her room and onto the grass outside. He looked up at her, the doorway between them suddenly feeling like worlds of distance. They stood on opposite sides of the open door like statues. Bucky didn't know what to do and he wasn't sure what to say.

He settled on a, "Goodnight."

He tried not to make it sound so weak and timorous but he failed entirely. He didn't want to leave her like this. Guilty and alone. God knows he knew what it felt like.

Her voice was dry and quiet. "Goodnight."

He wasn't sure when the door shut or which one of them had shut it. The only thing he was sure of was the feeling of formidable regret pooling in his stomach.

On one hand, there was regret for letting her lean in and get so close because now he was scared that their dynamic was ruined and worried that Y/N felt awful. On the other hand, there was regret that he just let her pull away. Regret that he didn't lean in more and shamelessly drown in her. Regret that he didn't unapologetically suffocate himself with the softness of lips, the inebriating smell of rum on on her tongue, and the utterly bewitching taste of her he was sure would follow.

He wasn't sure what he felt, to be honest. He was a muddle of emotions of which he had no idea how to sift through. Momentarily, he wished he was drunk so he wouldn't have to think so hard. Then, he remembered the saying, "drunk words are sober thoughts," and he was damn glad he was stone cold sober; he could only imagine the things he would say to her if he was drunk.

This lead him to pondering, it got the gears in his brain turning. It made him wonder. Maybe... just maybe... if drunk words were sober thoughts, then what if drunk actions were sober desires?

Thinking like this could cause him read the situation completely differently. Thinking like this could make him read the situation in such a way that conceived the slightest sliver of hope for emotions gone repressed. Hope is dangerous...

Hope is dangerous, so Bucky shoved it down into the deepest cavern of his brain, the very same cavern where his feelings for her resided. It was a monster in a cave, growling and hissing menacingly. Intensely.

It scared him, this intensity. It scared him so much that the only way he could fall asleep was by thinking about the way James Buchanan sounded when she said it with a winsome smile.

delicate taglist: ​@bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 12 - ao3 -

The dinner lasted until late, late enough that Lan Qiren had to make his excuses and even then only just barely got back to his room in time to fall asleep at the appropriate hour; he didn’t even have enough time to do more than remove his shoes and outer layer before his eyes had closed.

Surprisingly, unlike most social dinners in Lan Qiren’s memory, it hadn’t been awful. Most of that had been thanks to Lao Nie, whose exuberance, as he’d suspected, could carry just about any social interaction to victory. After exhausting himself in thinking of ever more increasingly ridiculous toasts and forcing Wen Ruohan to drink them – they’d switched to wine at some point, although to Lan Qiren’s relief neither offered him any – Lao Nie had turned the subject to the type of music appropriate to be played at a wedding feast, and his opinions on music were, as always, so horrifically wrong that even Lan Qiren had been lured into arguing with him.

At some point, the conversation had shifted to the subject of marriage and weddings more generally, though to Lan Qiren’s relief both men clearly considered him too young to have thoughts about his own future in that regard the way his teachers might have. Instead, they’d spoken about the origins of various wedding traditions – there were some that Lan Qiren had thought were set in stone and handed down from ancient times which Wen Ruohan could recall having seen invented within his lifetime, which was a fascinating advantage of age that Lan Qiren had not previously considered.

It was equally interesting to see Wen Ruohan at his most charming. It was not a mask that the sect leader bothered putting on very often, as far as Lan Qiren knew, and it was a mask, one that was a little loose around the edges – even Lan Qiren could tell. Wen Ruohan would say the right words a beat too late, with his eyes a little too focused and his smile a little too sharp to be believed; his quips were a little too cutting and his suggestions just a little beyond the boundaries of common decency, his cruelty and indifference leaking out around the edges of even a casual chat with people he considered friends.

But at the same time, it was difficult to deny that he was brilliant. Regardless of whether he’d obtained his superior cultivation through dark and dirty means or not, he’d been the master of his sect and about a third of the cultivation world for at least a generation already, and no one managed that without being extremely clever and more than a little ruthless.

It made for interesting conversation, if one beset with a constant feeling of danger…

“I hope you enjoyed the bed.”

Lan Qiren nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, spinning around to stare at Wen Ruohan standing just within the doorway to Lan Qiren's room – he hadn’t heard him open the door, nor close it behind him. The other man was in his wedding finery, the brilliant fiery red of his sect turned to joyous purpose, and yet there was something sinister in his self-assured smile.

“The – bed?” Lan Qiren repeated blankly, and glanced at it. “It was…fine?”

“You complained, last time,” Wen Ruohan said, continuing to stroll into the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “Too hard, I believe you said…I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lan Qiren vaguely recalled having said something along those lines and blushed in shame. “It’s fine,” he said. “I slept deeply and well. Thank you for your concern.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Wen Ruohan said. “You and I are brothers, are we not? My every thought should be of you.”

That didn’t sound quite right.

Before he could say anything, though, Wen Ruohan clicked his tongue lightly and stood in front of him, looking him up and down. “Your Lan sect’s formal clothing is truly a masterpiece of the embroidered arts,” he said. “A brilliant sight – especially all in white.”

Lan Qiren lowered his head, embarrassed again. If pressed, he would argue that his clothing was a little more silver than pure white, so he wasn’t actually dressed in mourning colors, but it couldn’t be denied that he was much closer than most, making it a little inappropriate for a wedding. Unfortunately, he only owned the one set of formal clothes, and there hadn’t been time to commission another; there was nothing for it.

“I like it,” Wen Ruohan said unexpectedly, his hands settling on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. Lan Qiren looked up and was caught by that intense red gaze. “My sect colors are red and white, after all – just like the two of us. A matched set.”

His hands burned too hot on Lan Qiren’s shoulders.

“White is a traditional color for the Lan sect as well,” Lan Qiren said, and his voice only quavered a little bit. “Anyway, it’s…mostly grey.”

“White,” Wen Ruohan disagreed. “As pristine as a pearl resting in the palm of your hand.”

His thumbs pressed lightly just by Lan Qiren’s collarbone. There were acupoints there, he thought, although he was having trouble recalling which ones or what they did.

“Yes, a pearl is truly the most apt comparison,” Wen Ruohan mused. “Simple and natural, yet shining with its own luster – I’d thought rubies, to make you fit to my taste, but perhaps pearls will suit you better.”

“I have no need for jewels,” Lan Qiren said, a little alarmed. Had Wen Ruohan really drunk so much the night before that he was still intoxicated, confusing his new sworn brother and his new bride?

“And yet I may wish to give them to you,” Wen Ruohan said. “Surely you won’t deny me – after all, I need to repay you for the charming gift you gave to me.”

Lan Qiren had a sinking feeling.

“Uh,” he said. “You saw it? Already?”

He’d searched the room briefly earlier that morning for the personal gift he’d bought for Wen Ruohan, intending on packaging the bowls away in his return clothing – why hadn’t it occurred to him to simply give it away to one of his fellow disciples, or even to trade or sell it? That way he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by giving such a simple gift amidst all the opulent luxury of the Nightless City.

It seemed, however, that it was too late for that.

“Oh yes,” Wen Ruohan said, looking amused. “A set of drinking bowls, painted with a flowing border reminiscent of vermilion birds – made by your own hand?”

“I only applied the glaze,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “There was another gift, too –”

“I have dozens of golden crowns of better make and greater utility,” Wen Ruohan said dismissively. “Such a heavy thing. If you told me that you’d picked it yourself, I wouldn’t believe you.”

“No, I did pick –”

“Without constraint? Or from a selection of predetermined choices, each one deemed ‘appropriate’?”

Lan Qiren fell silent.

“Do not tell lies,” Wen Ruohan said, rolling the familiar rule in his mouth as if tasting a wine of fine vintage. “Yes, the guan is a very appropriate gift, neither too distant nor too familiar, too rich or too restrained, perfectly reasonable yet conveying nothing, giving nothing away...I’m quite certain your brother picked it out. But you were the one who picked the bowls, weren’t you? Did you pay for them yourself?”

Lan Qiren felt certain that the conversation was leading to some sort of trap, but he didn’t know what, or how, or how to evade it. “I did,” he admitted. “With my sect allowance.”

“How many months’ worth did it cost you?”

Lan Qiren thought back, calculating. “About three?”

He’d thought to get something nice enough that he wouldn’t lose face in giving it, though naturally he’d underestimated the luxury of the Nightless City. Still, it wasn’t as though he needed the money for much, anyway. The sect supplied him with basic clothing and gear, equipment to tend to his sword and musical instruments, and even access to books; he did not buy himself too many luxuries beyond that. Other than the fees he paid for various sect purposes, it was really only the occasional trinket that caught his eye or rare books on foreign musical techniques that he purchased with his own money.

It wasn’t anything like a sacrifice, not really, but Wen Ruohan still looked pleased about it, smug and satisfied as a cat right after the hunt.

“Three months’ worth,” he murmured, and his hands which were somehow still on Lan Qiren’s shoulders slid inexorably inwards to rest on the sides of his throat. “Even assuming you were extraordinarily parsimonious, little Lan, you could only save a third at a time; that’s nine months of your life that you spent for me. Nearly a twentieth of all the months you’ve lived so far.”

What a strange way to calculate time.

It wasn’t even right, since Lan Qiren had turned seventeen in the interval and that made the interval closer to a twenty-fifth than a twentieth, but also – who thought like that, treating time like a percentage, as if it could be measured and spent like coin? Perhaps it was simply that Wen Ruohan was so old already…and perhaps that, in turn, was why he looked at him so strangely, so unnervingly –

Lan Qiren swallowed, decided he didn’t need his pride more than he needed to get away, and ducked out of Wen Ruohan’s loose grip.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?” he asked, turning and pretending to fuss with his robes to avoid making eye contact. “It’s the morning of your wedding.”

“Indeed it is,” Wen Ruohan said from behind him. He was standing too close: Lan Qiren could feel his breath on the back of his head. “Tell me, little Lan – little brother. What do you think of my marriage?”

Lan Qiren hesitated.

“The truth, if you will,” Wen Ruohan added. “I would hate for the purity of our relationship to be tainted by misdirection, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to lie.”

His voice was mild and even, almost sweet, and Lan Qiren was abruptly convinced that it was far more threatening than any of Lao Nie’s rages or his brother’s ice-cold sarcasms.

“I think you made it up to distract people from swearing brotherhood with me,” he said, turning back to face his fears and sworn brother, and felt his face go red as he realized how self-involved that made him sound. But it was what he thought, and Wen Ruohan had asked him not to lie. “You made a mistake, underestimated people’s reactions, and Lao Nie yelled at you because it was affecting your reputation and mine, so you came up with a better story and made everyone else believe it.”

Wen Ruohan hummed. “What an interesting theory. You don’t think the engagement was merely kept private before being revealed at an appropriate time?”

“No.” Lan Qiren shrugged. “If I’m wrong, of course, I’m wrong. But you asked what I thought.”

“Is that why you got me a gift?” Lan Qiren, surprised, glanced at Wen Ruohan, who was still smiling. “To thank me for clearing up the mess I made of your reputation?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re getting married,” Lan Qiren said, bemused. “What does my reputation have to do with anything? You’re not the one making everyone gossip, and even if you were, you cleaning up something you did is only what you should do. I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”

This time, Wen Ruohan gave a little huff of amusement, and he sounded almost surprised. “Charmingly blunt.”

“You told me not to lie or misdirect!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, feeling betrayed.

Now Wen Ruohan was chuckling in earnest. “Ah, little Lan,” he said. “Someone is going to get you into trouble one day, and it may very well be me…you’re right, you know.”

“What?”

“About the wedding,” he said lazily, and put a hand on top of Lan Qiren’s head. “Both in terms of motivation and timing. You’re entirely right, except for one part.”

“What part?”

His fingers tightened, the too-sharp nails digging into Lan Qiren’s scalp and pulling at his hair until his head was forced back to look up at Wen Ruohan.

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Wen Ruohan said. His eyes were boring into Lan Qiren’s own, the pressure of his will strong, as insistent as his voice. “You were not a mistake, little Lan. You’re mine.”

“Of course I am,” Lan Qiren said, suddenly irritated for no reason he could tell. “Your sworn brother. Doesn’t the whole world know it by now?”

“Mm. I suppose they do.”

“And on that note,” Lan Qiren said, “what are the terms, anyway? I never got to see them.”

“The – terms?”

“Of our brotherhood! My brother confiscated the paper you gave me before I could look it over, and naturally I don’t remember, so you have to give me another copy. I think I’m entitled to one, since I’m a part of it, and presumably you did the drafting. Was it one of the classical oaths? Which clauses were included? Provisions? Curses? Was there any consideration of – stop laughing!”

Wen Ruohan had released Lan Qiren’s hair in order to brace himself on the wall, he was laughing so hard. Laughing with big laughs that came up from his belly and stuck in his throat, and no matter what Lan Qiren said he didn’t say one single thing in response. Lan Qiren eventually gave up with a huff and stormed out.

Let the irritating bastard be late to his own wedding, for all he cared.

[volleychumps]

hii! can I request headcanons/scenario (up to you) to kuroo's first year sister becoming nekoma's manager (also kuroo is a little overprotective) and the team going to a training camp with the others for the fist time? thank you in advance!

 Awh yes of course this prompt made my heart go !!! This is a tad crack-filled but it has its’ sappy moments, I hope you enjoy!!

The Younger Kuroo

----------------------

“And what do we say when a boy asks for your number?” 

“Oh please, jump into my bed. I’ve been waiting.” 

You dodge the thump to the forehead from Kuroo’s thumb as you hide behind a cackling Yaku, who wiped a tear from his eyes at the promise of death in your older brother’s eyes. 

“No. Try again.” 

“I’m not five~” you whine, stretching your legs out from the slightly cramped bus ride. You loved Lev like a brother, but his legs hardly gave you any room to sit comfortably. Said boy hadn’t even realized until towards the end of the ride, panicking and taking your bags up for you as an apology with a sheepish grin on his cat-like features. 

Kai thumps your head for Kuroo, causing you to protest. “Kai! I’m supposed to be your favorite!” 

“Keep making jokes about bringing boys into your bed and you won’t be.” 

“Um sir, I’m actually going to be sleeping on a futon-” 

You dodge the next flick to your head, grumbling about how your brother’s team abuses their own manager as you run ahead to catch up with Kenma, ignoring the agitated calls for your ass to get back there from your brother. 

Kuroo rolls his eyes at the actions of his younger sister, watching Kenma show you what he was playing as Yaku brings a hand up to his neck, the three third-years watching with slightly worried expressions as their little sister figure hops onto Inuoka’s back. 

“Will she really be okay?” 

“She’s smart. She can take care of herself.” 

“MORI, INUOKA ATE MY COOKIES!” 

“I BOUGHT THEM FOR YOU-”

“Inuoka don’t steal her snacks! She’s still growing!” 

Kuroo sighs, the captain raising a hand to his eyes as Kai grins lopsidedly next to him, looking a little apologetic. 

“Nevermind. She’s a dumbass.” 

“So...we should worry about her?” 

This would be a long training camp. 

--------------------------------------

“Yamamoto, bend your knees a little more.” You instruct, resting a hand on the boy’s back as Yamamoto nervously looks to the side in case Kuroo was looking. You roll your eyes, applying more pressure. Your brother’s overprotective nature was funny at times, but not when it got into your duties as team manager. 

“Are you really her?!” 

“Bokuto, I said no!” 

You blink, hiding behind Yamamoto on instinct as a boy with burly arms and silver hair came running towards you, excitement brimmed in his gold irises as Kuroo holds his collar with an irk mark. A second guy with slightly disheveled hair came walking in tow, hands stuffed in his pockets as if this were an every day occurence. You focus in on their shirts. Fukurodani Academy. 

“Huh? Wait...” The Fukurodani member looks deep in thought. “She’s like, totally cute. What happened to you?” 

“Akaashi, please claim your pet.” Kuroo snips, but before the second boy can step forward, you’re laughing and stepping out from your hiding place and extending a hand to the silver haired boy, who grips it excitedly as he ignores Kuroo’s protests. 

“I’m Kuroo Y/N! The totally cuter sibling.” 

“Bokuto Kotaro! You can call me Bokuto onee-chan!” 

“No you cannot.” 

“...Bo onee-chan?” you offer a bit timidly, ignoring the glower from your older brother as you hide your smirk. 

Bokuto swooned, causing the second boy to nudge him, an amused look tickling his features as he bows respectfully. 

“Akaashi Keiji.” 

“Keiji-Kun?” You grin, and the blue-eyed boy takes on a look of surprise and seems to ponder it for a moment, nodding his head before bowing again. 

“We’ll be taking our leave, Kuroo-san.” 

“Call me Y/N!” You call, the setter turning slightly in their depart to nod to you as Bokuto fist pumps the air, claiming you were totally his type before you zone in on your unamused older brother, whose arms were crossed as you grin a little sheepishly. 

“You’re telling me you know those two hotties and you’ve never bothered to set me up?” 

“Y/N-” 

“Joking! It was a joke!” You say a little too quickly, jogging off to encourage Kenma to get his ass off the bench as Kuroo groans, tugging Kai and Yaku off to the sidelines. 

“...yeah. we might need to worry.” 

“What are you talking about?” Mori laughs. “She’s not a kid, Kuroo. We don’t need to look after her as much as we did before.”

---------------------------------------

“Literally fuck what I said before.” 

“Just how the hell did she manage to befriend the whole Karasuno team?” Kuroo grits out, Bokuto chuckling to his side as Akaashi reminds Kuroo not to snap his chopsticks in half. 

“Even Tsukki isn’t telling her to leave his sight. Is she magic or what?” 

The event where you were sitting between the vice-captain and wing spiker of the Karasuno team during that evening meal had begun when the captain had accidentally sent a receive towards your head, the goregous team manager managing to protect you in time with a swift wave of her hand. The vice-captain had rushed up to you in a hurry, apologizing profusely before the hyper libero invited you to come eat dinner with them, claiming he would buy you anything you wanted from the snack vendors afterwards. 

“Daichi, if you don’t stop apologizing, I will press charges.” You warn, placing more rice in your mouth as Yachi giggles from across you, eyes curious. 

“It’s hard to believe you’re Kuroo-san’s little sister, Y/N.” 

“You’re not scary...at all. Are you sure you two are related?” Hinata blanches, pretending he can’t see the glower from the captain across the cafeteria. You shrug, shooing the offered fried katsu from Sugawara’s chopsticks away. 

“Eat, Suga. I’m not dead.” You huff, turning to reply to your new friend. “And Hinata, don’t talk with your mouth full. Sadly, we came from the same womb and he was my first bully.”

The fact that you were both first years made you get along easily with the freckled boy, Yachi, Hinata, and even the genius blue-eyed setter and the tall middle blocker managed to engage in conversation with you one or two times. You noticed that the boy who claimed a little too boisterously to call him “Tanaka-Senpai” and the libero “Nishinoya-senpai” were looking at you with stars in your eyes before cutting you off mid-conversation. 

“Was being saved by Kiyoko a mesmerizing experience?” 

“Daichi, why don’t you throw a volleyball at their head so they can see?” 

“Suga, I said I was sorry, I feel bad enough!”

“You hurt a kouhai!” Suga over dramticizes, playfully creating a human shield between you and the captain. “You don’t even deserve to look at her!” 

You laugh, the laugh dwindling slightly when you meet Kuroo’s eyes from across the room. The team all look down at once, Lev pouting and Yaku seeming to be a little more quiet as Yamamoto and Fukunaga pretend to carry on a conversation. 

The captain looks away quickly, and you frown, focusing on your meal. It looks like you were going to have an unexpected team meeting tonight. 

----------------------------

“All right. Why is everyone on edge?” You throw the door open, not even flinching when some of your boys were in the middle of putting their shirts on. Lev and Inuoka both squeal overdramatically, covering their bodies. 

“Y/N you perv!” 

“Oh shut up, you always walk around shirtless and I say nothing!” You protest, plopping down in your brother’s futon. “Where is Kuroo anyway?” 

“Out. You know you can’t be in the boys’ dorms this late, Y/N. Do you want me to walk you?” Yaku crosses his arms strictly, and you sidle up to Kenma before resting your head on his shoulder tiredly, the boy you grew up with not even reacting as he continues to tap away on his console. 

“Nope.” You pop the p. “I just feel like I should say something. So gather around, chums.” 

“What, are you british now?” 

“Lev I seem to remember asking you to gather around, not hit me with an attitude.” You reply sassily, clapping your hands together. “Group circle. Now.” 

“She does have that captain vibe.” Yamamoto mumbles to Fukunaga as he simply nods in response. As your boys gather, you wait for them to settle before starting. 

“Okay, so welcome to alcoholic’s anonymous-” 

“Never mind. She doesn’t have a captain vibe, I must’ve been crazy.”

“Hi I’m Inuoka, and-

“Get to the point Y/N.” Kai says seriously as he yawns. You cross your legs, pressing the off button on Kenma’s console before looking at each of them individually, a seriousness in your eyes that was rarely there. 

“You do know I love you guys, right? Just because we’re at a training camp doesn’t mean I like the other teams more than I like you...so I wanted to say I’m sorry if it seemed like I was being a little neglectful...” You trail off, fiddling with your fingers. “I know some of you see me as your younger sister, and I really really don’t want you guys to feel like you guys are replaceable, because you aren’t.” 

You look up to see a mixture of surprise as some near tears (Lev and Inuoka) before you hastily add,  “And thus that ends my cheesy speech. Anyway, I struggle with high-amounts of alcohol consumption-” 

You’re cut off when the first years tackle you into a hug, crying they’re really glad you’re their manager as you struggle to breathe. You look up after you manage to shove them off, Yaku ruffling your hair as Kai crosses his arms with a satisfied grin on his face. Even Kenma had a little smile on his face before turning his console back on. 

“Sis.” 

You freeze up. It was time to face the final boss. Your head turns to sheepishly smile at Kuroo before he rolls his eyes, jutting his head to the side slightly. 

“I’ll walk you out.” 

“Goodnight Y/N!” 

“We love you!” 

“Speak for yourself-” 

“Shut up Kenma, we know you do.” 

-------------------------

“So you heard?” You walk next to your older brother, arms swinging loosely as Kuroo hums in response, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. 

“It was nice for you to clarify.” Kuroo speaks after a few brief moments of comfortable silence. “For awhile, we were the only team that didn’t have a manager to deal with us, so I’m not surprised they got a little worried seeing you cozy up to other teams. One might say even a little possessive.” 

Kuroo stops, and you turn curiously to face your brother. 

“It honestly makes me really scared to think one of these bastards might steal my little sister away. None of them are deserving of you, and I’ll be damned if I let you think that they are.”

You blink. Kuroo saying nice things seemed to only happen once in a blue moon. 

“Tetsurou-nii.” You say softly, tugging on Kuroo’s sleeve. “I’m not a kid anymore, you know? I’m not that middle schooler that always followed you and your friends around, having an unexplainable crush on Kenma-” 

“Get to the point.” 

“I’m happy you care.” You hug him, feeling Kuroo relax into your embrace. “But you gotta let me grow up some day, you know? And that thing about none of the team being replaceable?” 

Your grip tightens just a little more. “You’re the one it applies to the most. You’re my one and only older brother who pisses me off at times, but...I...ugh god....why is this so hard? I uh... l-love you, big bro.” 

You feel a hand rest on the top of your head as Kuroo sighs. “I love you too, little sis, so stop saying gross stuff.” 

“Then don’t pout at me from across the cafeteria!” 

“Who the hell was pouting? Me? You must be losing your sight, crazy woman.” 

“At least my hair doesn’t look like a duck’s ass.” 

“At least I’m tall.” 

“Don’t be bitter because you weren’t apart of our alcoholic’s anonymous meeting-” 

and so, both Kuroo’s walked and laughed all the way to the girls’ housing, the atmosphere significantly lighter than it had once been. 

---------------------------

“What business do you have with our manager, oi?” 

“Yamamoto, let Tanaka and Noya say bye.” You scold, highfiving them with both hands before Daichi approaches, Sugawara by his side as the captain of Karasuno hands you a steaming bag of Taiyaki.

“Share with your friends. This is my official apology. We’ll see you soon, Y/N.” The captain smiles warmly before turning to Suga. “Happy now?” 

“No, you abuser. Goodbye little kouhai!!” 

You wave to Hinata, Yachi, and Yamaguchi from a distance, Tsukishima and Kageyama both simply nodding to you as you shake your phone a little, signalling each of them to text you with the number you gave them with a bright smile. 

“Y/N don’t leave without saying bye to your nii-chan!” 

“Never, Bo-onii!” You cry overdramatically as Bokuto spins you around, Akaashi setting one hand on your head with a slight nod and a smile tickling his lips. It was honestly crazy how close you got with these people in three days, but who was complaining? 

“On the bus. Now.” Kuroo picks you up mid-spin from Bokuto’s grasp as you stick your tongue out, offering your final waves to everyone before Kai simply picks you up by the collar and quite literally drags you onto the bus. 

“Oh, did I miss my abusive boys.” You roll your eyes as you’re seated promptly next to Lev, who kindly kept his legs in check to give you enough room on the bus. “Who wants Taiyaki? Daichi-senpai treated us!” 

“Is Daichi the one? I called dibs, already!” Lev whines as the pastries are passed around, the bus settling into motion before Kuroo delivers a chop to the first-year’s head, who quickly claims it was a joke before a laugh bubbles up in your throat. 

Yeah. Your boys were a bit of a handful. 

“Yaku, you can’t have two!” 

“It just means Y/N loves me more.” 

“I’m her brother, you can’t compete.” 

“Shut up, she hates you half the time.” 

“No one asked you, Kenma!” 

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

[cash4bees]

How I'm doing

So I barely know people on this platform any more, and twitter is bad for long-form stuff and I also barely know anyone on there either. But I just want to get my thoughts in order on how I'm doing, and post them in my favorite defunct comedy diary platform. I promise, this isn't super duper sad times the whole way through, in case you want to give it a read it's actually quite happy.

I've had a rough go of it for around four years, going back further than the pandemic by a while. Graduating college essentially meant hacking away my social tethers that weren't online, and everyone I had easy access to through the internet was, in contrast, busy with their IRL stuff. I had to essentially scrape by on one or two social activities in a week from 2017 to 2019. I grew apart from friendships I valued because I felt every friendship drift away simultaneously. I remember that my therapist asked me to very simply rate my mood on given days out of a hundred and at about that time it was some of the absolute pits, barely reaching 30/100 on a good day. I had a roommate who's vibes spread to me and whose lack of cleanliness ethic put a lot of at-home burden on me, I had very little if any free time to myself, and all of my friends were either gone or still hanging out with each other at grad school an hour's drive away. I was lonelier than I'd ever been, and those rank among the saddest days of my life. I left tumblr entirely for a few months there, coinciding with the exodus in general, so there's not too many glimpses into my state of mind on this blog but trust me, it was bad.

The first big turnaround, late 2018, was joining a big discord server with some of the best friends I could've ended up making. If you're on that server (which is only one of my actual followers iirc, everyone else abandoned tumblr) you know how much you mean to me, and I'm grateful to you.

The second big turnaround was splitting up with my gf of several years who had moved in with me for 3 months. It wasn't all bad, but it would be a massive lie to say that the ease with which our close proximity fostered my partner's ongoing resentment of me wasn't a major factor in my lowest moods. It also left me with time to myself and more importantly, time with my friends who didn't live an hour away. It finally felt like I could have time to be myself, and to become myself. I think if you knew me then and now you can probably see a difference. I had a very brief and very healing relationship, only about two months, in the winter of 2019-2020. Low pressure, good fun, and with no resentment toward me building up at all. It was important for me to see a relationship work like that, the way it's intended. We held each other on a few great nights before parting ways with a smile on each of our faces. They weren't ready for anything longer-term with me and I was disappointed but able to accept that. Thanks, ####, I hope you're doing well wherever you are.

I met someone else just before lockdown, quite literally having the first date on leap day. He's not a partner because neither of us are looking for a partner in that sense, but he is a friend, and the best I could ask for. It's coming up on two years of friendship with each other and I honestly couldn't feel better about it. He's introduced me to new friends, people who so quickly became close to me that it felt like we were always going to be best friends. They're all a huge part of how I made it through quarantine.

That lasts for a whole two years, bringing us to now. I don't know what exactly flipped the switch: getting a pair of cats and feeling a need to get my life together for their sake, going fully remote and realizing I have the freedom I'd lost after graduation again, making friends with their lives together and being inspired by them, or some combination. I took a LOT of action.

I got back on medication for ADHD, allowing me to do stuff like type this post out. I earned a promotion at work after roughly two years of slogging through pandemic cutbacks and furlough. Most recently, and importantly, I made an offer on a house. Things are still up in the air but the momentum is unstoppable at this point. I am going to buy a house, and soon. No more doing dishes by hand in a 30 sqft kitchen in a one bedroom apartment in a silent suburb. No more driving on a highway to see friends in the city on the regular. Life is getting better by miles, not inches.

I want to thank everyone on here and elsewhere who's kept up with me and kept me going. Even the smallest things have helped, and if you took the time to read this, even the idea of you caring enough to do that keeps me going, accelerating even. I love you all and I hope I can pass some of that help you've given me back to you.

[peralta-guaranteed]

jake has to ask a little girl about a case and she's pretty scared at first and he donates her his police car in the middle of the conversation or something and amy is just 🥺😭🥰

She’s at least stopped crying. That’s a good thing, right? Amy had given Rosa the most desperate looks as they’d tried to calm the little girl down - Rosa had even been smart enough to swallow her usual comments about ‘making her stop that weird thing with her face’ as Amy nervously patted her blonde hair while she whined and sobbed on the break room couch.

So, the little girl’s stopped crying now, which is a plus, but she’s also not speaking, which is a big fat minus. She’s just sitting on the couch, curled up like a little cat trying to hide, her eyes still swimming.

They got her contact info out of her after Charles brought her in from the crime scene her neighbour called in, at least, and child services have been ‘informed’, but that means there’s still a good few hours waiting for them to do anything while the poor girl sits in a grimy police station break room, crying and not speaking.

And they really kind of need her to speak.

“She was hiding in a cupboard.” Charles mumbles across the desk where they’ve congregated. “She probably didn’t see much anyway.”

“I tried to talk to her.” Terry sighs, his shoulders flexing under the stress. “But it’s no surprise she’s scared of me most. The three guys we brought in are all bodybuilders.”

“Do we need her to talk? Can’t we just, you know, hand her over to a therapist who knows how to deal with this stuff anyway?” Rosa sounds as disinterested as ever, but Amy can see her jaw grinding as she shoots worried looks into the break room.

“The child therapist we have on file is off until tomorrow at 9. And she’s our only witness. If she can’t identify anyone, we’ll have to let all three guys go in 24 hours. One of them did put her mom into the hospital. And she saw it.” Amy tries to school her voice back to professional, but it doesn’t stop her from breaking at the last sentence.

Jake, a desk behind them, hasn’t said a word. He seems more interested in his own files than whatever is going on at their little meeting, but when they break apart again - Teddy saying he’s going to look up other therapists, Rosa going back to the Holding Cell to maybe pressure one of those douchebags into a confession, Charles suddenly worrying about whether or not the little girl might be hungry and checking the breakroom fridge for actually edible food - Amy sees him roll his eyes before grabbing something off his desk, pushing his chair back and slipping over to the breakroom.

She doesn’t dare follow him directly, but she is exceptionally good at hovering near doorways without being noticed.

He walks past the little girl on the couch, whose eyes are clearly following him the entire time, and makes his way to the vending machine instead. The eerie silence is interrupted by the clicking and whirring of a transaction before he settles down next to the girl, at a safe enough distance, ripping open a bag of skittles and tossing them into his mouth.

The two of them lock eyes before he holds the bag out, and it takes a few seconds and a lot of courage for the girl to stick her hand in and then stuff her mouth full with skittles.

“Yeah.” Jake says, in a voice so soft it makes Amy’s heart ache as she eavesdrops. “Skittles are always good.”

“Reese’s pieces are better.” The little girl almost whispers.

“Oh, we ain’t fancy enough for Reese’s pieces in our vending machines.” Jake grins with rainbow-stained lips, and there’s the tiniest little giggle from the girl next to him. It’s enough to encourage him, it seems, as he holds up whatever he picked from his desk towards her.

“You know how to play this?”

She nods after a good look.

“Good, because I keep messing up and it’s really bugging me. Help me figure it out?”

Amy watches with wide eyes as the girl climbs over the couch to Jake’s side, staring at the logic puzzle in his hands that he’s twisting and turning without much result. 

“You need to go right first.”

“What?”

“Right! You twist, an’ then-”

They spend a good few moments with the wood block in his hands, the little girl continuing her directions while Jake obviously turns it all the wrong ways, her replies of correction getting louder and louder.

“You’re so bad at this!” She pouts, and Jake sighs over-dramatically.

“Yeah, duh, I know! You think you’re any better?!”

“I am.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am!” “Psh, no way.” 

“Yes way!”

She looks at him all huffy, risen to her knees on the couch, nothing about her trying to fold into itself or hide away anymore, as Jake holds up the little toy with a daring grin.

“Prove it, then.”

She yanks the toy out of his hands and drops back onto her seat, twisting and turning with a vengeance as Jake looks up and catches Amy’s eyes with a grin and a wink, as if he’d been aware she’s been watching the entire time.

Maybe he was.

Amy moves to the side of the doorway some more, hiding away from her boyfriend’s grin, and hiding her blush at being discovered so easily, when the little girl’s arms drop in frustration.

“This game is stupid.”

“Ah, not so smart now, are you?”

“I’m plenty smart. The game is stupid.”

“Alright. Want some more skittles instead?”

She digs in right away, leaning over to Jake’s side to almost empty the plastic bag, and his voice turns just as soft as it was before.

“Hey, can you help me out with something else? It’s pretty stupid too, but I think you’re the only one who can do it.”

She nods, a bit hesitant.

“See, we got these three guys in, and we know that one of them was there when we found you in the apartment.” Jake says, carefully. “But we don’t know which one, and you could tell us if you saw them, right?”

Amy’s forehead wrinkles with worry as she watches her shrink away again, her arms linking around her knees.

“You don’t have to. We can keep playing and eating snacks here if you want. But it’d be a really, really big help for us.”

“Are they gonna see me?”

“No. They’ll be behind a wall with a mirror, and they can’t see us or hear us at all.”

“You’ll come too?”

“Of course. I wanna see you solve that puzzle all smartypants-like.”

The little girl giggles before she nods, and when Jake stands up with his hand held out to her, she reaches for it.

She solves their puzzle with no problem - clinging to Jake’s hand in the room across the line-up, pointing and even naming the perp who’s exposed as a blind date turned aggressive stalker once they can dig into his cell phone history. 

She spends the rest of her stay at the precinct at Jake’s desk, asking a million and one questions about the knicknacks on his desk, half of which she ends up pushing around over files exactly the way he usually does when he’s bored, being fed an endless supply of skittles by Jake’s trips to the vending machine.

When her grandfather practically storms the place two hours later, after finally being reached thanks to Amy’s contact research skills, she jumps into his arms as he hugs her tight. But then she turns and hugs Jake, who went down on one knee to reach her height, just as tight to say goodbye.

“Thanks for your help, smartypants.” Amy hears him say, soft and smiling again. “You can keep this one until you figure it out, too.” 

The little girl sticks her still rainbow-coloured tongue out at him even as she grabs the wood puzzle he’s holding up.

-*-

Amy is still staring at him in the elevator down to her car to drive them home, a good few hours after the girl and her grandpa had left with many thanks (and the number of a good child therapist in grandpa’s pocket, despite the girl’s cheery appearance, slipped there by Amy).

“What?” Jake says as he notices her eyes locked onto him, a slightly unsure grin on his face.

“You handled that really well. With the little girl.”

He shrugs and scratches his nose.

“Best way to get someone out of their shell: poke ‘em and double dog dare ‘em to do stuff you know they’ll be good at. Or, if that doesn’t work, snacks.”

Amy stares at him some more, but the gears in her head are already working.

“That’s- is that-?” She huffs, all of a sudden, shocked by the realisation she’s just come to. “That’s what you did to me when I started here!”

“Yeah.” Jake’s grin is not so unsure anymore as he shrugs again. “It works on all ages of smartypants.”

He lifts his arm up to protect himself before she can even play-punch him, but he still gets a good one into his side as he laughs. 

“But then you had to go and be way too good at everything I dared you to.” He continues, grabbing both her hands as she tries to land another hit, holding back her own laugh.  

“I guess I’m just way more of a smartypants than you’d expected.”

“Nah.” He sneaks a kiss onto the tip of her nose. “I knew you were, like, smartypants-squared from the first day. I just didn’t expect you to be as competitive as me.”

“Good thing I am, or you would’ve had to move onto the Snacks option instead.”

“Hey, I got you loads of street meat.”

He’s let go of her hands enough for another soft punch to his arm, but then she wraps around it instead, pulling him close as the elevator doors open to the garage.

“Well, I’m glad to know you can handle smartypants-girls of all ages.” She says as she leans up to kiss his cheek. “Helps with the planning, I have to say.”

“What planning?” He asks, but she only laughs as she lets go of his arm, walking towards her car knowing full well he’ll follow her with the most confused look on his face.

“Amy, what planning?!”

[pan-fangirl-345]

Where’s the Manager?

Summary: You visit your boyfriend, but, as always, your captain is content to have the worst timing.

TW: Slight swearing (Kyouken and Iwa-chan have potty mouths)

A/N: There weren’t enough Kyoutani x Reader fics out there so I wrote my own.

As soon as you walked into Seijoh's gym, all eyes were on you.

"Oikawa, I think there's a fan here for you," a spiky haired man shouted, making a guy with a knee brace turn.

"My fans don't usually come to nightly practices," the man, Oikawa, said.

"Because you always stay so late, Shittykawa!"

"Who's Oikawa?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm here to see my boyfriend."

"And who might that be?" Oikawa asked, looking slightly offended. He must've been the guy with the fan club your boyfriend had told you about.

"(Y/F/N)? What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow!" Kyoutani said, rushing over to hug you, spinning you around a few times.

"Ken," you laughed. "Put me down!"

He set you down lightly, giving you a big smile.

"That's the school uniform for Fukurodani, isn't it?" someone else asked.

"My school cancelled classes today due to the fact that it's raining so hard you can't see an inch in front of you. I figured I'd come surprise you," you muttered, smiling back at him.

"How did you know we were ending practice?" Kyoutani asked.

"You told me silly," you teased. "Yesterday. I asked you when you got off practice."

"Woah, woah, woah. Let's recap for everyone whose brain just liquified and melted out of their noses," Oikawa muttered, making you wrinkle your nose at the description. "Our resident Mad Dog-chan, not only has a girlfriend, but he has a cute girlfriend from a different school."

"Not to mention she's hot," a pink-haired guy added.

"And goes to a pretty prestigious school," the other third year chimed in.

You flushed a little, but rolled your eyes.

"Ken, you didn't tell them about me?" you asked, pouting a little bit, then giving a small laugh. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Didn't think they needed to know," he grumbled. "I already have to share you with my sister."

You snorted, putting your hand over your mouth, smiling at him.

"You're cute when you're jealous," you teased, bopping him on the nose lightly. "I'm (Y/N), I'm Kyoutani's girlfriend. And for whoever asked, yes, this is the uniform for Fukurodani."

"How old are you?" someone asked.

He looked like a creampuff.

"I'm a second year, just like you Yahaba," you told him.

"You know who I am?" He looked surprised.

"Well, yeah. You slammed my boyfriend into a wall and shouted at him," you told him, deadpan. "I wanted to know who you were. And I already know about Iwaizumi-san because Ken talks about him all the time. And he complains about the fluffy haired dude, who I am assuming is Oikawa."

Iwaizumi laughed as Oikawa pouted, and you glanced at Kyoutani, who was too busy smiling at you to really notice.

Your phone ringing caught your attention and you dug through your bag looking for it.

"Ugh, it's Bokuto-san, give me a moment, would you?" you asked your boyfriend, scooting away so the others could bombard him with questions.

"(Y/L/N)! Why aren't you at practice?" he shouted and you winced, pulling the phone away from your ear.

"Why are you guys even having practice? It's practically a hurricane there! And I'm visiting my boyfriend, I told Akaashi that when I left," you told him. "Didn't he tell you?"

"Boyfriend!" he shouted. "That punk looking blond?"

"His name's Kyoutani, but yes, that's him."

"Your our manager (Y/L/N)! Your fattenizing with the enemy!" Bokuto whined.

"I think the word your looking for is ‘fraternizing’ Bokuto-san," you corrected. "And he's not the enemy. Do you realize how little we go against teams like Seijoh? They always tend to be in a different bracket," you pointed out.

"That's not the point!" he said, and you could practically see his hair deflating on the other end of the line. He was going to go into emo mode if you didn't do something.

"I promise to help you with your line shots when I get back. I'll stay after with Akaashi the next practice we have, alright? Please don't be sad Bokuto-san," you said, feeling slightly bad that you hadn't told him.

"All the guys miss you though!" Bokuto whined. He was definitely pouting. And he was definitely trying to trick you.

"And I miss you guys too, but I see you all everyday, I barely get to see my boyfriend. How would you feel if you only got to see Akaashi every few weeks?"

"That's not fair!" Bokuto shouted again.

"Put him on speaker!" Kyoutani mouthed and you rolled your eyes, but put him on speaker anyway.

"What if he tries to steal you away?" Bokuto asked, sounding extra whiny, the way he did when this sort of thing came up.

Which it did.

Often.

"I'm stealing her for a weekend Owl-san, you and your team will have her back on Monday," Kyoutani said, draping himself across your back, wrapping his arms around you waist so he could talk to your boyfriend.

"I feel like a glorified, underpaid babysitter," you muttered.

"You and me both," Akaashi said. "I apologize for this (Y/L/N), I told him where you were and he got all . . . deflated."

"It's alright," you assured him. "I'll just give Bokuto a heads up next time."

"Next time!?" Bokuto yelled from the background, making you stifle a laugh.

"Yes, next time Bokuto-san, did you think I was breaking up with Kyou this weekend?"

"You should! He's trying to steal you from us!"

"You say that every time a member of a different team talks to me! You did it with Kuroo-san, and Kenma, and Suga-san, and don't even get me started on the other Tokyo teams," you reminded him, watching your boyfriend's team laughed at your captain's antics. "You thought Hinata-kun was trying to smuggle me back to Karasuno when he was just walking me to our bus!"

"You're a good manager (Y/L/N)!" Bokuto retorted. "They want you all to themselves!"

"While I'm flattered that you think so Bokuto-san, the only people that even act somewhat like that are Tanaka and Nishinoya! And even then, Akaashi is usually right by me, or I'm with the other managers."

"But-"

"Look, Bokuto-san, I have to go," you interjected. "I can't spend all weekend arguing with you on this. I'll text you when I get home so you know where I am. I promise, I'll be back practice on Monday. I think you can handle a weekend without me."

You ended the call before he could respond, silencing your phone and slipping it back into your bag.

"How is he one of the top five aces in the country?" Kyoutani asked when you sighed. "He acts like an overgrown child.

"I have no fucking clue," you muttered, laying your head against his chest. "I love Bokuto-san, he's like an older brother to me, but sometimes I wish he had a little more fucking tact."

"That's the captain of Fukurodani?" Oikawa asked.

"Yeah."

"Is he always like that?" Iwaizumi inquired.

"Pretty much," you sighed. "He gets a little different during games, but he pretty acts like that all the time unless he's alone with Akaashi, our setter. Who also happens Bokuto's designated babysitter whenever we go to tournaments or practice games. And training camps, but Tsukishima from Karasuno and Kuroo from Nekoma tend to have him on a leash too."

"The salty glasses kid, and the cat with the fucked up hairdo?" Kyoutani asked.

"Yep, that's them. Hinata, the red-head spiker from Karasuno, tends to keep Bokuto busy when we have training camps with them because Bokuto is too busy trying to 'mentor' him. They make my job so much easier."

"You know a lot of people from other teams," Oikawa pointed out, squinting at you.

"As a manager, I run into a lot of different people. I'm friends with a lot of Nekoma, Karasuno, the other Tokyo teams, not to mention Shiritorizawa and Date Tech. And I know a few people from your team now. I tend to liaison between different teams to help set up practice matches and just to check up on them. It helps out our coach and advisor, plus, I get to meet a bunch of new people."

"That's actually kind of how we met," Kyoutani admitted. "She was the manager for my middle school team."

"I lived near here until the start of my first year. I would've gone here, but my mother got a job transfer to Tokyo, so I moved. Kyoutani and I knew each other from middle school and we helped each other out a few times."

"I never would've guessed that Kyoutani would have a girlfriend like you," Iwaizumi said.

"Why not?"

"Have you seen him?" Oikawa asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Have you guys ever seen him with his sister, or his dogs?" you countered.

"No," they admitted. "He's a pretty private person."

"Kyou's a good person, but people don't get to know him before they decide he's a bad person and it's best to steer clear. Not to mention that most idiots believe the rumors that fly around. I can tell you that he's only ever been in one fight, and it was to protect me."

"I still have the scar," he mumbled.

"That's because you attacked a guy who had a knife!"

"I didn't know he had it when I tackled the son of bitch!" he retorted.

"I could've handled him. I take self-defense classes for a reason dipshit."

Kyoutani shrugged.

"Dumbass," you teased.

"Idiot," he replied, kissing the top of your head.

You rolled your eyes but smiled.

"I can't tell if you two are disgustingly sweet or slightly concerning," Makki muttered.

"Both," you answered.

"My sister is wondering where I am," Kyoutani said, pulling his phone out of his bag.

"Then let's go, I want to give her a big hug! I've missed her."

"And I've missed you," he told you, making you smile.

"Of course you did! I'm your girlfriend."

"I'll see you guys on Tuesday," Kyoutani called.

"It was nice to meet you guys!" you shouted as you raced Kyoutani to the doors.

"We didn't even introduce ourselves," Watari muttered.

"She probably knew anyway, Mad Dog-chan loves us," Oikawa said, gathering up his own things.

"I think he loves her more though," Yahaba pointed out.

"Definitely."

[thefanficmonster]

Stranger In The Crowd

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently ended the process of moving, Y/N is rightfully very tired but also very excited for the new chapter of her life. Funnily enough, this new chapter includes a newly formed long distance friendship/crush with a very special person from San Diego.

Requested by @boiled-onionrings Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long for it to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be at home after such a long day of standing around in the Georgia heat with only a thin layer of fabric to protect my eyes and head from the scorching sun. Yeah, anyone who says that tent did well at protecting everyone under it today is nothing but a liar. I was in a short, strapless white summer dress, the fabric of which barely had any weight and consistency to provide heat of its own yet I still damn near melted. Ok, I’ll admit, some of the roasting heat probably came from the energy and force I put into singing the songs of my band’s new album ‘Starting At The End’. 

The mini concert we held in this large open field was meant as an introduction to the city of Savannah where all the band members - myself included - are actually from but we all moved to the West Coast to pursue our music career. And now that we’ve grown, and the majority of us are married, one of us is a father now as well, we’ve decided to return to our hometown. The decision was so spontaneous and was executed so quickly due to no one objecting to it that it still hasn’t me that I’m no longer in LA. The heat isn’t helping my ‘processing’ process but I’ll get to it eventually. Do I miss LA though? Not sure I do - I think I more miss the people I was closer to while I was there.

Suddenly, as if perfectly timed, my phone dings, notifying me that I’ve received a message. I don’t have to look to know it’s from - there’s only one person I actively text and his name is....

C ~ Your virtual buddy Corpse here, making sure you didn’t die of a heatstroke today. If you did indeed survive, just reply to this message, if not....don’t do anything, I guess.

I can’t help but giggle at the sight of the message. I promised Corpse I’d text him after the concert to let him know I was ok, but the even dragged out for longer than anticipated so I’m guessing he got worried.

How cute.

Me ~ Alive and well, but I do feel like a popped tire of an overloaded truck. Hope that’s a visually appealing description

Corpse and I met on the charity livestream Jacksepticeye organized and invited our band to so we could play Among Us with some of the best gamers and streamers on the internet. It was a huge honor and a ton of fun, definitely an event I’d like to repeat in the near future because I had such a good time and I know all my bandmates did too. We all got acquainted and even became official friends with the gamers that were practically our hosts, Corpse becoming the closest friends I’d earn. That livestream happened months ago and we still text just as consistently.

C ~ Oh I know EXACTLY what you mean. Anyway, as to not exhaust you further to force you into typing, how about you send me pictures to sum up your thoughts and emotions and plans for the evening

This is OUR THING trademark, mine and Corpse’s and no one can take it away from us. It’s a significant element of our friendship that enables us both to understand one another when one of us feels the way I described in my message - a popped tire or a deflated balloon. I’m usually the exhausted one - blame the many shows we do and the many meet-and-greets we organize for our lovely fans. It’s the type of exhaustion none of the band members mind at all, but we definitely need some time to recover from it.

As I go to sit down on my couch, the flower crown I’ve been wearing slips off the top of my head, falling on the floor, creating a soft noise that attracts the attention of one of my many cats - Sasha. She’s the youngest and most curious kitty in the family, always protected by the other four - Luna, Cassie, Silver and Lynn. Those four are far lazier and a lot more disinterested in comparison to Sasha who immediately runs over to see what’s fallen.

I smile to myself, taking the flower crown and undoing it to lessen it by a few stems to make it smaller, all the while being watched by the curious Sasha whose interest is rewarded in the end when I put the now adorably tiny flower crown on her head.

While she still hasn’t shaken the thing off I manage to snap a pic which I send to Corpse who opens it mere seconds after it was delivered. 

C ~ Sasha’s pulling off your aesthetic better than you. Sorry, someone had to let you know

I burst out laughing for two reasons - 1.The message itself, damn it! It’s hilarious; 2. Corpse has learnt the name of each one of my cats and never mixes them up - not even Luna and Lynn who look almost identical. That amount of attention to detail is astonishing and very meaningful to me, it genuinely warms my heart and that may or may not be dramatic but it’s definitely not exaggerated.

Me ~ You think I haven’t caught on yet? 

C ~ Well, if it makes you feel any better you pull off my aesthetic better than I do

He’s referring to the e-girl look I did for one show the band had in downtown LA one night. I was drunk and looking forward to trying new things so I improvised the hell out of my outfit but I apparently looked presentable enough to leave a good impression on Corpse despite the pic I sent him being a bit blurry and being a mirror selfie in the bathroom of the very bar we were performing in. It goes without saying that the mirror was dirty too - had a bunch of writing on it which Corpse said only added to the aesthetic. Looking back on it now I kinda agree, and luckily so did the fans in the comments of that same photo when I posted it on Instagram.

Me ~ Means a lot actually. Nowhere near enough to aid the burn of having a cat pull off cottagecore better than I do, but still helps XD

As if sensing that we’re talking about her, Sasha hops on the couch, poking her head over my phone to look down at the screen.

Now this is gonna be golden.

I take a selfie with my phone in my lap, the camera capturing both me and Sasha at a rather unflattering angle which has me losing my mind laughing when I send the picture to Corpse who immediately sends back a string of cry-laughing emojis.

C ~ I can’t tell which one of you is cuter

Me ~ If that was a compliment, I gotta say I appreciate it greatly

C ~ Just telling the truth ;)

It’s times like these that the butterflies in my stomach remind me just why I’ve started catching feelings for this man despite all the distance between us and despite barely knowing him - he knows me more than I know him but I don’t mind it, oddly enough.

I’m fond of our connection and though I sometimes dream of something more, I’m also content with what we already have considering that ‘something more’ seems rather unattainable as of now.

My phone dings again, clearing the fog of thoughts and presenting me with a new message from Corpse.

C ~ Oh, by the way, look what I got....

That message is followed up by a picture of a ticket. A plane ticket to Georgia! 

While I’m still busy stomaching this and dealing with my quickly rising excitement, he sends another message.

C ~ I hope to catch a The Silver Rays concert while I’m there. Heard they had an adorable frontwoman ;)

My breath catches in my throat as a wide grin spreads across my face. The thought of having Corpse so close to me sends those aforementioned butterflies in my stomach into a raving mood and they practically explode my insides with excitement and joy like I’ve never felt it before. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we’re about to go from having an entire country between us, to being just some ways away - him in the audience and me on stage without a single clue of who to look for. That’s part of the excitement though, I guess, part of the guessing game that’s gonna make our meeting all the more interesting.

He’ll be a stranger in the crowd and I’ll be a performer on a stage - seemingly two people who have no relation whatsoever. But damn does it go beyond that: No one has to know how hard I’m falling for that stranger in the crowd.

Me ~ I’ve heard so too, can’t confirm it though

If this is gonna be a guessing game, I’ll flip the tables a bit - I won’t take any guesses. I’ll let the answer come to me. I’ll give the first move over to the stranger in the crowd, let’s see what he does.

C ~ I’ll check and let you know, don’t worry

Not worried whatsoever, Corpsie. I’m not worried at all.

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[drwcn]

maybe after today’s acls training i can finally write that chengqing ER oneshot. 

— “Patient male, mid-twenties, motor vehicle collision, eta 3 mins” 

— “What no vitals? No GCS? ETA 3 mins? Who’s on the paramedic team?!” 

— “No one….Dr. Lu hit someone with her car on her way out of the hospital.” 

【A Midnight Conversation in Your Local ER】- Complete

[1] 

The night hunt had gone to shits.

That much was undeniable.

Jiang Cheng heard the panicked shout of his disciples just as he saw the array that he had stepped on.

Fuck.

The ghost of an once mediocre demonic cultivator wanna-be was going to bring Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanyin - the Sandu Shengshou - to meet his maker. The irony of the situation would be laughable, if he wasn’t so irrevocably screwed.

That was his last thought before his entire body was engulfed by a blinding light and the world he knew disappeared.

The ground beneath his feet gave away, weightlessness paralyzing his body though he did not fall. He felt…launched, his body warping and squeezing and stretching, the air sucked from his lungs into the endless black vacuum.

But just like that it was over. Jiang Cheng barely had time to make peace with his death before his feet touch solid earth again.

Or at least….he thought it was earth, this black, tarry hard thing striped with yellow and white. He stared at it dumbly, breathless and disoriented, barely able to react when a loud blare assaulted his senses and his world went blindly bright yet again.

This time there was pain.

Jiang Cheng clutched Sandu, ready to fight, but then his head hit the ground and everything went dark. When he woke up again, an indeterminate amount of time later, he was in a small tube and had a distinct feeling he was not wearing pants, socks or shoes.

How the fuck do you ‘scan’ a cat???  

[2]

Method actor. The nurse, from the other side of the curtain, mouthed silently.

“Sir, can you tell me your name.”

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wangyin.”

The resident paused, awkwardly contemplating how to continue. “Uh…..which is it? Jiang Cheng or Jiang Wanyin?”

“Jiang Cheng, zi Wanyin.”

“Traditional parents?” The resident tried to crack a joke, but it fell flat. The strange man stared up at him with a blank look in his eyes and a frown that was rapidly deteriorating into a scowl. The resident cleared his throat and cast his eyes back onto his clipboard. “Uh, ahem, just the name on your ID please.”

“My what?" 

"Your personal ID….like a driver’s license?”

“Cultivators of the gentry fly on swords or ride horses. We do not rely on carriage valets.”

“Eh… right. Uhm, can you tell me how old you are and what year it is.”

“I’m 39, and the year is jiachen.”

Lu Qi frowned from where she stood by the door, arms crossed, watching her resident and medical student work. 39? He looks like a college student. But he also thinks he can fly, so I guess age is the least of our worries. 

“Jiachen.…?”

The M3 fished his phone out from his scrub pocket pocket and typed it in. “Sounds like the ganji system, like an old timey way to record year used in the past.” He whispers clandestinely to the resident.

“….Right. And uh, do you where you are?”

The man scowled at him. “Am I supposed to?” 

The resident scribbled something on the chart, and then looked up with a plastered awkward smile. “Well, thank you Mr. Jiang for your patience. Wang Fei here is the medical student on our team. He’s going to stay and ask you a couple more questions if you don’t mind. Afterwards we’ll confer with our attending and the team will be back to see you shortly.”

As he turned away, the R3 grimaced and shared a look with Lu Qi, who was the youngest attending physician in their ER, but was not technically working at the moment and so was not on the case. And technically, as the perpetrator who hit Jiang Cheng with her car, she had a severe conflict of interest.

At least this Jiang Cheng dude didn’t seem keen on pressing personal charges against her for MVA or suing the hospital in general… but that being said…

Yeah, they’re going to need a psych consult. 

Unless he’s on acid. 

Well… okay, psych consult either way. 

[3]

"It’s okay, you can relax.” Jiang Cheng said, waving dismissively at the woman standing by his bedside. “I’m not going to take you to the magistrate for hitting me with your carriage - car. You didn’t mean to, and I just came out of nowhere.” 

“....Thank you.” 

“You’re not Wen Qing. I know that now. Your name is Lu Qi. You can call off those psychia - psych - psychics - head healers - or whatever, I’m not crazy. It’s not my fault, you just… look so much like someone I used to know."

"Wen Qing.” Lu Qi echoed. 

“Yeah. Wen Qing. She was a healer - a doctor - like you, but different.” 

“I see. What happened to her?"

"She died. Almost twenty years ago."

"I'm sorry... that's awful.” Lu Qi’s response rolled off her tongue so well, because she had said those word a thousand times during her residency. So much so that it no longer had much meaning to her. Tonight however, she meant what she said. “Were you two close?"

"No, well…yes, maybe. No we weren’t exactly friends if that’s what you’re asking. She...operated on me. Without my consent or knowledge. Took my brother’s golden core and put it in me and then lied with my brother to my face about it. So no we weren’t “close”, but Wen Qing saved my life - well the purpose of it anyway. Saved me from a life of ordinariness.” 

Lu Qi did allow herself to dwell too much on what the fuck a “golden core” was, because her gut response was almost instantaneous. “That’s shitty of her.”

She clamped down on her tongue. 

God, why did I have to say that? To his face?! He was obviously in love with this Wen Qing person and they were encroaching on some dangerous emotional territories, but Lu Qi swallowed down her caution and plowed on nevertheless. There were things she felt she had to say, and since she’d already hit him with her car, how much worse could this shit get? “What I mean is she shouldn’t have. Not without telling you. Besides...there’s nothing wrong with ordinary.” 

Jiang Cheng chuckled bitterly. “Maybe you’re right. Still...she didn’t deserve to die. What her clan did was not her fault.” 

Now that threw Lu Qi off. Did this guy...kill her? 

Lu Qi half wondered if she stumbled upon a Yakuza-esque member whose psyche finally snapped after years of murder and violence. And yet, he seemed perfectly coherent, no flight of ideas, no tangential thought, no hallucations. Even his delusions seemed...logical. 

I must be the one losing, damnit.  

Jiang Cheng scratched a little at his chest, as if palpating for the “golden core” that he spoke of. "She saved my life, but when she needed help, I couldn't save her. But, if I were to go back… I can't say I'll choose differently. My clan needed me, my clan who was almost cleansed by hers. No, no I wouldn’t choose differently. I don’t regret my choices, but I am sorry. Sorry to her, sorry to my brother. I'll always be sorry that she died, and that I failed her when she needed me." 

Jiang Cheng had no idea why he was telling this stranger any of this, but maybe after twenty years, he was finally ready to address this guilt that he lived with. I mean who else was he supposed to tell? Jin Ling? It was nice, to have that face as an audience, receiving his words of confession. 

"She would forgive you." 

Lu Qi had no idea why she was offering absolution as if she had authority in this matter, but when she said it, the conviction she felt was so real, it was almost as though some external force was acting through her.

Which was ridiculous of course, but... 

"How do you know? You're not her." Jiang Cheng shook his head. “I wouldn’t forgive me.” 

"No, but you said she was a physician. So she should know, more than most, that sometimes there is no choosing who gets to live or die."

Jiang Cheng fell quiet at that, and his gaze grew distant. Lu Qi thought perhaps he was no longer seeing her as she was in front of him - white coat, scrubs, stethoscope -  but someone entirely different. The tension he held in his shoulders slowly eased, and he sighed. In the silence that stretched between them, Lu Qi hoped that this strange man with his strange past could find a sliver of peace. 

[4]

— Did you love her? 

— I thought so, foolishly, but maybe I didn’t. Even if I did, it was not well enough. 

— Do you love her still? 

— No... I don’t know. It’s been too long...but sometimes, late at night when Lotus Pier is quiet, I think I do. 

...

— Are you ashamed of it? 

...

— No. No I’m not. 

[5]

The patient known as Jiang Cheng left AMA, that is, against medical advice. It was the term they used sometimes for people who just up and leave without informing the team. 

Lu Qi had gone out to check on his labs, which came back with bonker numbers (I mean really, a hemoglobin of 455, sodium of 200, and a HCO3 of like...3?), but Jiang Cheng was gone from Bay 6 when she returned. The nurse made the overhead page, a code yellow was called, but four hours later, Lu Qi was ready to admit that she was never going to see this Jiang Cheng ever again. 

Somehow, she was okay with that. She had said what needed to be said.  

Her chief had given her a call on her cell and told her to go home and sleep. The guy didn’t look like he was gonna press charges, let’s count our blessings and move on. But the night had just been too damn strange that Lu Qi was all wired up from it and couldn’t possibly fall asleep. She had handover at 10 anyway. There was a change of clothes and toiletries in her bag. She could always take a shower in the anesthesia staff’s on call room and sleep until then. 

Dr. Sun was the anesthesia staff on-call tonight and was currently stuck in trauma OR. They were buddies since medschool; she’d understand.

Sighing, Lu Qi took a seat on the bench across from the bougie cafe in the lobby of the hospital. At this hour, it was the only one still open in the entire facility. The drinks they sold cost an arm and a leg, but Lu Qi needed the pick-me-up after the night she had. 

As she nursed the last bit of her matcha latte, two bickering voices pulled her attention to the front entrance. 

“Aiyo, A-Liang I already said I’m fine! I don’t need to be here!” 

“Fuck out of here with that bullshit, Chen Zhaoxi. You fell off the fucking roof! If Wu Kun hadn’t called me, you’d have gone on -”

It was him! Lu Qi shot up. It was Jiang Cheng! 

But no...no it wasn’t him. The well-dressed man dragging the second man (dressed in red pajamas) into the hospital was not Jiang Cheng. He had the same face - chiselled, handsome, scowling - but it wasn’t him. For one, his hair was trimmed short and neat, unlike Jiang Cheng who looked like he walked straight out of a BL xianxia tv drama. Secondly, his face was softer, eyes younger, and he couldn’t have been older than Lu Qi herself in her early thirties. 

“I was just trying to get to the litter of kittens trapped -”

“Yes, yes, and it was very heroic and I’m sure it would’ve made Wu Kun very horny, and you morons probably would’ve fucked once he got home had you not made a valiant attempt at breaking your neck -” 

“Excuse me,” the security guard manning the information desk chastised sharply. “It’s 4am. This is a hospital! Lower your voices, sirs.” 

“Sorry.” The men apologized sheepishly. 

Then, A-Liang, Jiang Cheng’s doubleganger asked, “Could you please direct us to the ER? This is my brother, he fell off a roof.” 

Lu Bin had no idea what possessed her to interject. “I can take you there.” 

All eyes fell on her. She walked towards them, heart pounding. 

This can’t be happening, this kind of thing just can’t happen... 

A-Liang’s face broke into a grateful smile. “Thank you, Miss -” Then his gaze trailed to her badge, and he corrected himself, “Dr. Lu. I’m Shen Liang. This is my brother Chen Zhaoxi. I think he fractured...well multiple things, please help him.” 

“Of course, come with me. Let’s get him a wheelchair. If he fractured is leg, he probably shouldn’t be walking.” 

“I didn’t fracture -” 

“You, you shut up.” Shen Liang rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He can lose three out of four limbs and say ‘ t’s but a flesh wound’.” 

Lu Qi couldn’t help but chuckle as she put an arm under the complaining Chen Zhaoxi and helped him towards the wheelchair. 

Shen Liang’s smile widened. 

[Extra]

“Holy shit, took you long enough!” 

When Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui finally dragged Jiang Cheng to their portal site, Jiang Cheng realized that the transportation talisman had created a channel through realities between what looked like two metal garbage dumpsters in a back alley behind a food establishment marked by giant yellow bunny ears.

Standing guard there, Lan Jingyi and Ouyang Zizhen were each munching on a strange layered bread and holding tall drinks contained in...what was it called again? Right. Styrofoam. 

“What is that?” Jin Ling wrinkled is nose at it. Brat. 

“It’s a Big Mac.” Replied Lan Jingyi as if Jin Ling was stupid. “And this is a milk shake.” 

Jin Ling scowled. “I said the bag of gold I gave you was for emergencies.” 

“Yeah but we were hungry.” Ouyang Zizhen defended. He neglected to tell them that the cashier had refused to accept the gold and instead asked for “cash” or “card”, neither of which they had, so Zizhen used a liiiiil confounding talisman he learned from Wei Wuxian. They did leave more than enough gold though...and that ought to cover the restaurant’s cost for their “burger”lary . Reaching into the brown paper bag he held under one arm, Zizhen pulled out a little box that opened to show pieces of... something. “These are chicken nuggets. They’re delicious! Try one! They’re really good with this sauce....hold on...” 

Lan Sizhui sighed. “We don’t have time for this. The portal will close soon. Let’s get Jiang-zongzhu home and we can sample these exotic food later.” 

The boys agreed. 

Jiang Cheng shook his head and huffed.