#although her life is probably equally messed up

[neofelis----nebulosa]

My stories I had for my stuffed animals when I was 12 were absolutely bonkers. I had this one character who was like 14 years old and was a “troubled teen” because she said bad words and that caused her to develop an unhealthy relationship with her mom then she moved out with a 22 year old man and had kids with him then died at war.

[pia-nor481]

Oscar Piastri NSFW alphabet

A-Aftercare (what they're like after sex?)

Always cuddles, whether she's resting on his chest or him on hers. I definitely see him being lazy afterwards and is all "do we have to get up, it's so comfortable" but he knows better and does so with a groan.

B-Body part (what is their favourite part of theirs and their partner?)

He actually really likes his cock. Not overly sure why but just does. But also his hands, they can do a lot.

I don’t think there’s one part of his partner that he doesn’t like. But he like boobs. Always has and always will. Seeing them is a pretty bra just gets him off. But he will always have an appreciation for ass.

C-Cum (anything to do with cum)

Oscar likes things MESSY. He will happily cum absolutely anywhere, and he comes a lot. Also taking into consideration Australia's circumcision rate of 10-20% (depending on where you look) I reckon he isn't, and so is very sensitive, so it's quite easy to make him cum.

D-Dirty secret (just a dirty secret of theirs)

I think he might really like the idea of someone watching, he’s a bit of a voyeur. Not many would believe he’s so fantastic in bed. So he’s like someone else to see and say so. Not that her body language doesn’t tell him that. He’s a bit of a show off at times. But it’s always hot.

E- Experience (how experienced are they)

Not very, but he's so willing to learn!! He wants to make her cum because she deserves. If he eats her out he doesn't expect anything back, but he'd never complain. I think he likes to do research and wants to try it out, so immediately he's telling her about this thing and he's all giddy.

F- Favourite position

Oscar loves so many positions!!! He really likes straddling positions where she's on top; any variation of cowgirl or where she's sat in his lap. But he also likes to be on top;any variation of missionary, but in particular when she has her legs around his waist and hands in his hair.

G- Goofy (how serious are they in the moment)

Definitely a mix of both. There's definitely times where nothing arousing or particularly intimate has occurred yet he really wants sex. Or times where they could have a pretty normal conversation while getting railed. But he like more serious sex too- he likes to focus on pleasure-not just cumming.

H- Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes)

I think Oscar's hair is the same colour. But I think he's very well groomed, although he's okay with mess (have you seen his drivers room?) I think this would be something he's quite picky about. Always trimmed to a nice length. Have you seen his happy trail? I think he’d be a little scared of razor burn (probably happened once and was suffering) so avoids them like the plague, unless she offers for him when in the shower ;)

I- Intimacy (how are they during the moment? Romantic? Pleasure driven?)

I’m lead to believe he’s very romantic, he wants to show her how passionate he is. He loves her with all of his heart, and what better way to show that than pleasure. He knows that the build up to an orgasm is just as fun as the final climax so he isn’t always desperate to cum.

J- Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

In my mind he doesn’t masturbate often, but when he does he likes to tease. He uses such light pressure that he can’t get anywhere close to cumming. Or he’s so desperate that his main focus is the head, he just rubbing an open palm against the tip, moaning while is eyes roll back. However he doesn’t like to Jack off, he’d prefer her hand or mouth.

K- Kinks (one or more of their kinks)

Switch- if it wasn’t made obvious I think he’s the perfect example of a switch. He’s equally as submissive as dominate, and it makes for a really good sex life. With his dominance, I think it comes mainly position and instruction; there will be times where he just picks her up by the waist, places her on the nearest surface and just fucks her brainless

Bottoming- is this even a kink? Well it’s here now. I think this came about from his little research moment, he saw a lot about how much pleasuring the g-spot could heighten his orgasm and practically begged for it.

Temperature play- I think ties into a fondness for toys. But also, now hear me out, when he’s getting a bj and there’s lots of spit on his cock, he likes when she blows air onto it, giving a cooling sensation.

Voice/sound- he loves when there’s some kind of music playing, but he also loves just hearing her voice, maybe it’s because he likes being told what to do.

Praise/degradation- this can be read in the context of either dom or sub. But he’s loves degradation with a mix of praise. “Such a slut, so good for me.” Praise him because he derives it!! But call him a slut for looking at lando like that. Oscar loves to give praise after sex, sweet nothings and pillow talk is his specialty if he’s coherent.

L- Location (their favourite place)

I’m going to have to be basic in saying the bedroom. However not just the bed. Say you’re picking out some clothes from the wardrobe, if you’re trying things on, you should know it’s not long until you’re being pushed up against the door.

Round two in the shower are a must.

M- Motivation (what gets them going?)

He really likes dirty talk, but the subtle kind. Or if you whisper in his ear out in public “I can’t wait to get home and have your cock in my mouth” he’s already semi hard. “I think it’s time we leave”

Lingerie- I imagine him to really like baby dolls or really pretty/ intricate bras and panties.

N- No (what turns them off)

CNC-he can’t see the appeal of it.

Spanking- I’m talking more about 5+ with the intention of it really hurting/being a punishment. He definitely likes to tap her ass. But not leave it so red and sore that she can’t sit.

O- Oral (preference on giving or receiving. Skill)

I think he may slightly prefer giving. Just seeing the pleasure he can give with his tongue/hands. He’s very skilled in eyes, I think that he’s desperate to please and so found different techniques to see what would work best. Oscar *fuck me eyes* Piastri like to be on his knees while you ride his face. However, when he sees how enthusiastic she is about blowing him, how can he say no?

P- Pace (Are they fast or slow? Rough or sensual?)

He definitely prefers slow and sensual, but he does like it rough from time to time. He knows variety is super important and is very willing to give that. I think post race win!Oscar definitely likes hardcore, he feels like he deserves it.

Q- Quickie (their opinions on them? How often?)

I think he can see the appeal and is quite happy that he can cum pretty fast, the risk of it is nice so he does enjoy them. But he would definitely prefer hours long to have his way with you.

R- Risk (will they experiment? Do they take risks?)

He loves to experiment. He knows to switch up his technique every so often, switching from deep thrusting to short and shallow. The following week maybe he tries to milk her g-spot. He will always keep it interesting

S- Stamina (how many rounds do they go for?)

I believe he can go for quite a few rounds but he has a long refractory period. You have to wait quite a few minutes to even dare to touch his cock after cumming. But it will take him a while to cum again. But he’s easy to overstimulate

T-Toys (do they own any? Do they use them? On a partner or themself?)

Absolutely loves them!! His personal favourite are vibrators. He loves using them on her, as well as on himself. If he was really spending the whole night focusing on her, his mouth and hands will need a break. So he’s ready to get out a rabbit or a wand. He might like handcuffs but it can be a spur of the moment thing, even if he’s in control. The first time he used one (a vibe) on himself he came in under five minutes, and overstimmed himself. He didn’t focus on the shaft enough. But he later realised to use a slow vibration and apply less pressure. His favourite dildo is 6-inches btw.

U-Unfair (how much do they tease?)

He loves being teased but not edged. When he wants to cum he should be allowed to!! Or he’ll pout. Slowing down while blowing him is one of his favourite things. But he also loves to tease back. He’s NOT all talk. He’ll make you wait for hours before you’re allowed to cum. Only kissing around your cunt. Or just twisting/sucking your nipples. But you won’t cum. Foreplay is a favourite of his.

V-Volume (how loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

When dimming he’s not quiet, but not loud. He’s definitely making noises. He groans and had a very low moan. But the more he cums the higher and louder the moans become. He’s very breathy if that makes sense.

W-Wild card (a random headcanon)

He really loves flavoured lube. He’s got all of the fruity ones in the bedside table. He just thinks it’s nice to spice it up as lube isn’t just used on his cock or her cunt. Yes he does like whipped cream and sweet sauces, so he cheats on his diet quite often.

X-X-ray (how big are they?)

Definitely more thick. Although I can imagine 6/7 inches I’m not sure why.

Y- Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Not very, he just gets very caught up in the moment. So one day he’ll be begging for hours on end for pleasure as if he didn’t have morning sex or didn’t bend her over the sofa two hours ago. Other days he just doesn’t feel like cumming at all. But if you asked he’d definitely eat you out, or grab one of the many toys scattered around his messy room. Overall some days are 0/10 others 10/10

Z-Zzz (how quick do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Oscar Piastri sleepy boy confirmed. He loves his sleep so much, so pretty quick; especially it was very sensual and romantic. But if the sex was more rough I think the adrenaline would keep him up for quite a while.

Help why is he so pale. Like you’re from Australia babe, how are you as white as me. (I’ve not stepped foot in the sun for 3 years.)

[aniesvision]

𝑩𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒔

𝚃𝚆!

⚠︎ 𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚛: 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝. 𝙱𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎 ♥︎

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇-𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒔, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅, 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 (𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚), 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅.

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒅. 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐: 𝑰'𝒎 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆'𝒔 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅! 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 ��𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔. 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌-𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍

It was finally the weekend. You and your boyfriend haven't seen each other in almost three weeks now with how busy you were with work and college, and how busy he was with filming his 7 million video.

Matt was excited to see you, but although you love him with all your heart you weren't. It's not because of him, it's because of something you did and that now you regret, but you can't undo it.

You were finishing getting ready and preparing an overnight bag when he texted you asking if you were already on your way. It was obvious he was dying to see you again, and you knew he would be the sweetest person ever whenever it was time to tell him what you did, but you didn't want to worry him.

You drove to his house, slowly and carefully, and not even half an hour later you were under him, both of you without your shirts and your breasts on full display. He was so good at making you forget all your problems, to make you feel cared for and seen.

Unfortunately, those last weeks were difficult, to say the least. You always had your own struggles, and it was getting harder to do things when you couldn't stop overthinking every little step. You didn't know what you wanted to do with your life, your work gave you nothing but stress and barely enough to pay your bills, college was tiring and you couldn't focus, nothing made sense anymore.

The amount of anxiety building in your chest was growing by the day and one of them you snapped. Not even the pills you took to sleep were making you any sleepy, although your body and mind were equally tired, so without thinking too much you stood from your bed and sat on the corner of your bathroom.

It wasn't a pleasant scene, an eyebrow shave in your hand and your phone in the other, tears falling nonstop from your eyes and the sobs filling the room. Your pain was visible. As you tried to lean your phone on your bathroom counter, your best friend talked you through it. Your mind was blank and there was nothing but build up stress in your being.

"Grab a towel, damp it with water, clean it gently, talk to me, it's okay."

It was killing you inside, all the mess you made. Two towels, the tiles, the counter, your clothes, all painted in red. And you didn't feel a thing, probably because of the pills, but that meant you kept going without noticing how far you went, you only stopped when your pet scratched the bathroom door and you had to open it for him.

You immediately called your friend, telling her all about what happened, it was late at night and you couldn't stop hating yourself for letting it go too far again.

Matt's kisses reached your stomach and the memories from last night echoed in your mind, making you push him away and sit upright with glossy eyes.

-I'm sorry, I can't. -You whispered, turning your head to the side and covering your bare chest with your arms.

Your boyfriend looked incredibly confused, you never really pushed him away before, normally you'd pull him closer. He sat in front of you, reaching for your eyes.

-Why? What's wrong? -He asked, in a soft tone, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear to show more of your face.

-Nothing. -Your voice barely came out, sounding like a painful whisper, and it made Matt even more concerned.

-Hey, hey, talk to me, what's going on? -He gently turns your body so you're facing him again, noticing the tears in your eyes.

You don't say anything, but when you wince and grab his wrist when he touches your thigh, it is enough for him to realize.

You did it a few times before, just once since you met him. He knew you were the type of person to let everything happen, anyone run over you with a smile on your face, and then you'd build all this pain and let it go in the unhealthiest way possible. He tried to help you release this stress in other things and ways, but even taking care of yourself and your mental health, sometimes it was too much and you couldn't help it.

His face immediately falts, his eyes dropping to your covered legs. You felt like the worst person ever. How could you do such a thing? How could you be so selfish? It was so clear that he was upset, that it also affected him and not only you. Just like it also affected your friend. Your tears continued to roll, hoping he'd let go and not question it, but he wouldn't do that, he loves you.

-Show me. -He whispers, capturing your eyes once more.

You shake your head no, scared to see his reaction, to upset him too much, to make him leave.

-Show me. -He repeats with a firmer voice, but that still carries a lot of emotions.

You slowly sigh, standing up and sliding your sweatpants down gently so as not to make any more bruises. The sight of his face broke your heart. His eyes tearing up, his head turning to the side and his lips folding. You never saw him so upset before. He sighs silently, scooting to the edge of the bed and gently placing his hands on the back of your legs.

-What happened? -He asks, caressing your skin carefully, looking between the bruises you made and your eyes.

-I'm sorry. -You said.

You repeated it like a mantra, covering your face and sobbing. You were so scared, so vulnerable, so sad, so disappointed with yourself.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer and kissing your stomach.

-No, don't apologize, it's not your fault, alright?

You hug him, using all your strength to keep him close like he'd leave any second.

-I love you, I love you so much, you're so beautiful, I'm right here with you, please don't be scared to reach out, I'm not going anywhere, you hear me? -His words were all the assurance you needed and the tone of his voice only added to your trust in him.

-I love you. -You whisper between breaths, your voice muffled by his hair, your crying taking over the room like a sad reminder of your choice.

-It's okay, baby, it's okay. You know what? I'll run you a bath to make sure it's all cleaned up and I'll order us food. Sounds good? -Matt looks up at you, and you look back with hope, nodding.

The cute smile on his face made your heart swell and before standing up he gently pressed his lips against your marks. He then kisses your lips and helps you get dressed again, pulling you with him to his bathroom, starting a warm shower, his arms wrapping you in an embrace and his lips prepping kisses all along your body. Just like that, all the stress was gone.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @mattsfavbigtitties @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @flower-sturns @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @starnoirr @katie-tibo @sturnioloblues @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @sharkcat1928

[asteroidzzzn]

timeless

summary: no matter the decade, you and ellie seem to always find each other

word count: 4.3k

a/n: this ones for all my swifties that also have timeless (the best vault track btw) on repeat

a bustling crowd carried you downtown, where you roamed aimlessly. you tossed a quick few cents to a paperboy in exchange for the daily paper, Evening Standard, 1945.

Now, it is 50 miles to Warshaw, where the—

an unexpected object slammed against your forehead, while you were distracted reading. you stumbled away from the pole, your gaze drawn to the flickering lights of a nearby shop. a quaint little place, seemingly cozy.

something in your head said stop, so you walked in.

the place was a cluttered mess full of memories from countless lives. a cardboard box with a sign read photos, 25 cents each.

your hand reached in, revealing a photo of a woman in a wedding dress, smile bright while her husband next to her gazed at her as if she hung the stars. newlyweds stood proudly in front of their new house.

aged writing on the bottom of the photo stated that the couple, betty and james, bought their first house together in 1934, just a decade prior to present day.

although you had never seen the two before, you could tell one thing about them. their love was a rare kind, the love you were lucky to find just once in your life, for a fleeting second.

you saw yourself and ellie in that photo, in some alternate universe. it was a perfect world, where you could find a farmhouse on a hill, raise animals together, and no one would bat an eye at the fact you were two women in love.

you recalled ten minutes ago, reading the paper which regarded the war, praying to whatever god out there that she would come home safe.

with all the care in the world, you returned the photo to the counter, keeping your head low as the bell rung on your way out.

when you returned to your home, you quickly found your way to your room, lighting a candle and sinking down to the floor. your emotions overtook you, letting out a soft sob.

ellie was one of the few people you cared about. during the harsh conditions of the war, you found comfort with each other. you had a connection that you shared with no other.

the day she got sent across the world, you were devastated. at first, you visited her bakery, left abandoned with dust and broken glass. she assured you she would keep safe, simply serving soldiers their meals, but she could not console you.

your hand found its way under the bed, pulling out a shoebox. it contained letters from the past year.

tears trickled down your cheeks as you gripped the envelopes, reminders of her love and wellbeing.

a sudden warmth washed over you. a calm sense of sureness. you lingered on the beautiful memory of meeting ellie, that one winter day in 1944.

"oh dear, i'm so sorry, ma'am," you had apologized and brushed off the mysterious woman's apron.

"it-it's no worry," she told you, offering a smile.

if it were any other day, you would have figured out something equally as polite to say and be on your way.

but something seemed different today.

if it was any other person, you would have bowed your head in apology once more, and continued your trip to the market.

but you simply could never forget about this woman, let alone leave her for just a couple of tomatoes your mother had beckoned you to retrieve.

the woman adjusted her chef hat, pushing a strand of hair from her face, revealing her eyes, into which you shamelessly admired for probably a moment too long.

a soft chuckle fell from your lips as she struggled to straighten out the hat.

"who do you cook for?" you prompted, curious to know more about her.

"oh, i actually own my own bakery, down on seventh street." she lifted the paper bag in her hand. "i just went to pick up ingredients."

your eyes widened, "that's incredible, i'll have to go there someday!"

she bit her lip, seemingly lost in thought. "i'm heading there right now. would you like to come?"

nodding enthusiastically, you linked your arm with hers, glancing to the side to see the faintest blush dash across her freckled cheeks.

"lead the way," you told her. and she did.

you wiped your tears on the sheets hanging off the side of your bed, you dug through the box to find the most recent envelope you hadn't opened yet.

you read about her past week, a smile creeping up on your face as you saw the way she signed of her name.

yours, for all time, ellie

and you believed it. your love truly would be timeless.

"this is taking forever," you groaned out to yourself, ripping tape of and sealing yet another box shut. it was a gorgeous sunny day during the summer of 1981. however, you were stuck in a dark, hot garage, while all your friends spent the day at the beach.

the door creaked loudly, welcoming a person into the room. you did not look up from the box, assuming the shadow in the corner of your eye was your father, telling you to hurry up.

your family was moving to a new town for his work, and since your parents were extremely busy all day, you were burdened with the task of packing the entire garage.

a familiar, unexpected voice spoke out.

"need some help?" the smile was evident through her words, causing you to turn around swiftly.

"ellie? what are you doing here? how'd you get in? did my parents see—"

she hushed your worries with a kiss, pulling you behind a large shelf, shielding the two of you from the door leading into the house.

"came in through the window in the kitchen," she whispered on your lips, pulling a giggle out of you. "had to see you today," she whispered again, except with a hint of sadness, now.

you pulled yourself closer to her, eyes closed, memorizing the way her hands slipped under your flannel, holding you just as tight. a silent goodbye.

she felt your frame quiver against her and quickly moved her hold from your waist to your face, wiping any evidence of sorrow with her thumbs as you sniffled.

"sorry it's stupid that i'm crying it's just i'll...i'll miss you. a lot," you explained.

"it's okay...we'll be okay," she attempted. her words were as unsure as yours. "i'll write to you, and call you, and i'll visit when your parents are out of town," she promised.

you nodded, stepping away from her and toward the piles upon piles of unboxed items. she came up next to you, sorting through old pictures.

"what's this one?" she asked, holding up a photo, which you judged was very old from the way it had faded brown and had multiple tears along the edges.

in the photo, dated 1958, were your mother and father, when they were your age. they held hands, walking down your sidewalk. her in a dress, and him in a suit, just before their senior prom.

you chuckled, "those are my parents, but i've never seen that one before," grabbing the photo from her to study it, you recalled the night at prom you met ellie.

"we're gonna be late!" your friend, dina, had called upstairs where you were slipping on your shoes. it was the first school dance you had ever been to, making you extremely nervous.

"coming!" you shouted in return.

when you arrived at her mothers' car, you lifted up your dress to step inside. ms. woodward made small conversation with you, which dina suddenly interrupted with a sharp gasp.

"oh my god, i just remembered i heard leon ross asked you to prom! where is he? are you meeting him there?"

"oh, um, i'm not going with him," you replied with hesitance.

dina's eyebrows raised, "why not? he's super hot, nice, and he's the best player on the football team."

you shrugged, turning your head to gaze out the window.

"not my type."

you shortly arrived at school, and stepped into the gym, dina's arm linked with yours so you wouldn't lose each other in the bustling crowd.

the two of you met up with some friends and made your way to the center where everyone danced. at some point, dina nudged you to inform you she was heading to the bathroom. when she returned, she held up a blunt, wiggling her eyebrows.

you made your way outside, the cool air a refreshing contrast from the uncomfortable humidity of the windowless gym. you found a secluded space, yet there was a person leading against a wall who hadn't noticed you.

"who's that?" you asked dina, pointing at the person in a suit who was by themself.

"oh, that's ellie williams. she's the one that's gay, remember?"

"oh, yeah. okay."

you passed the blunt back and forth, chatting with dina. it was a beautiful and quiet night where you laid on your back, giggling and pointing out shapes strung out by the stars.

eventually, dina sighed and stood, noticing how people were exiting the gym in large groups.

"i should probably head home now, it's getting late."

you nodded, glancing at ellie, who was still alone, now sitting and gazing at the night sky.

"you need a ride?"

you glanced one more time. you couldn't let yourself go home without saying something.

"no, i'm fine, my dad should be here soon."

she hugged you, saying goodbye a final time before disappearing behind a building towards the parking lot.

you took a deep breath and headed towards ellie, having a spur of confidence from the weed.

you sat beside her. her eyes were on you, and time was standing still, waiting for one of you to speak up.

"hey," she said. hushed. confused. "do i know you?"

suddenly, this was a very very bad idea.

"oh, uh, no. you don't. i just wanted to say hi. you don't have any of your friends sitting with you," you pointed out, tearing your gaze away from her face to watch the groups of people leaving. soon, it would be just the two of you.

she scoffed at that, bringing her hands into her lap to spin her rings.

"don't have many of those."

"oh," you didn't know what to say. you assumed it was because she was outed as a lesbian just a few months ago. you heard the rumors, the words she was called, and saw the stares she received in the hallway.

you felt horrible for her, but figured she wouldn't want to talk about it anymore.

"i like your rings," you gestured to them. a small, kind compliment, but it didn't get the reaction you were hoping for.

"why are you here?" she lifted her gaze. was staring into you, searching for intention.

"my friend dina kinda forced me to go, so she—"

"no, why are you sitting with me right now? i don't need your sympathy. i know you know, everyone does."

your lips fell apart. you contemplated. it was absolutely ridiculous to tell someone you just met something to personal about yourself, but you felt the need to let her know. it would have helped you to know you have a friend that accepted you. someone who was just like you.

"i'm...i like girls too," a quiet whisper, only for her ears. "oh also, my names y/n," you added with a nervous chuckle. it was freeing to finally be able to tell someone, who you somehow knew would keep your secret safe.

she blinked. "oh."

you nodded, lips pursed. "you're the only one who knows. i can't imagine how it would be to have everyone at school know. especially if i didn't want them to. i just...i think you're brave, honestly, ellie. it's cool you can wear a suit to a dance. i wish i could do that," you rambled, watching as her lips twitched up into a shy smile.

"how'd you know my name?" was her only response.

the dark masked your blush, but the nervousness was still evident in your voice. "dina told me."

she hummed. "well, nice to meet you."

"yeah, you too."

it was a precious, innocent, memory. the start of something unexpected and beautiful, that swept you up like a sudden whirlwind.

in the deepest parts of your mind, there were some days you wished you had never went up to her. the thought that one day you would have to go your separate ways haunted you.

with one final look at the photograph of your parents, young and joyful, you placed it down. upon a shelf, was a photo of them on their wedding day, wearing the same giddy smiles as the day of prom.

one day, you wished, that could be you. finding ellie despite how long you would be apart on separate sides of the country, never letting your love die.

you glanced behind you at the girl who snuck past your parents to help you pack instead of doing anything else. she wanted to spend time with you.

that was all it took. you knew you would find each other again someday. against all odds. and everything would be okay.

you spent your afternoon in the castle's library, the one and only place you could find solitude. where no responsibilities weighed down on your shoulders. it was a peaceful, quiet moment until the doors swung open.

"darling? are you in here?" your father, the king, boomed out, his voice bouncing off the countless towering shelves.

you slammed the book shut, hastily slipping it into its rightful place and standing up, straightening out your dress as you stepped out from your comfortable place on the floor.

"yes, father?" you clasped your hands behind your back, forcing your posture up straight.

he rubbed his eyebrows with his thumb and pointer, as if he knew he could find you in the library off in your own world.

"you cannot continue to do this, dear. you will have responsibilities now."

you tilted your head with furrowed eyebrows, prompting him to explain.

he sent away his two loyal guards to have a private conversation with you.

"you know i would not have agreed to this if it did not depend on the fate of our kingdom," he began.

"father? what do you mean?"

he refused to look you in the eyes as he spoke. "you are to be wed to prince hill, the soon to be king of aragon. they threatened war, and this is the only solution to protect our nation and keep peace.

your eyes welled up with tears. you were left speechless. you swallowed your pride, nodding and wordlessly retreating to your room.

the days were dwindling away to when you would have to leave your home. just the night before you were destined to leave, your father knocked on the door to your room, where you had spent the majority of your days the past week.

you couldn't find any words for him besides politely asking him to let you get a good night's sleep.

your mouth remained sealed in the carriage, passing by endless terrains. you arrived at night, forming excuses so you wouldn't have to see the king. just not yet, i am not ready, you thought.

you slept in a massive room, tossing and turning on your new large mattress, yet you had no one to share it with.

the next day, you slipped past the guards into town. later that day, you figured you would tell them you merely wanted to greet the townspeople you would soon be ruling.

in common clothes, you perfectly blended in. the lack of attention on your presence was new. you could have gotten used to it.

you strolled past shops, observing and taking in the surroundings. the rush of breaking the rules, being where you weren't meant to be, caused you to roam the streets of the kingdom daily, until one morning, guards were stationed outside your room.

"oh, good morning," you greeted him. you couldn't see his face, covered by his helmet, and he stood so perfectly still, you wondered for a moment if he were just a statue.

the knight removed his—her helmet.

fear was not a feeling you experienced often. this was slightly different from fear, however. it was something you could never describe, even if you knew each word in the dictionary.

she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen. she couldn't have been much older than you, but you could tell her adventures had aged her. you imagined what she had been through in her life, wondering if maybe, one day, she would tell you all about it.

her green eyes shimmered for a fleeting moment, when the sun and the reflection of her helmet met and agreed to place a shine on her.

"good morning, princess. i am knight williams. i have been placed at your service for the next month up to the wedding, and to prevent you from exiting the castle during the day."

"i—but—what? why?" your words failed you, tumbling out in an unorganized mess.

knight williams cleared her throat. "i am to accompany you to breakfast shortly to meet with the prince. i will wait outside until you are ready, princess lowe."

you grimaced, "you do not need to address me so formally. just y/n will do."

her mouth opened to reply, but you swiftly shut the door to prevent a response. when you emerged from your room, the knight gestured for you to follow her.

"i assume you have recently been too busy sneaking away to explore the castle, so allow me to lead the way, princess."

you chuckled at her remark. "that is true, however, i did tell you there is no need to call me princess."

she let out an exasperated sigh, "if that is your wish, y/n."

"and what is your name?" you queried, as you made your way down a winding set of stairs.

her jaw tensed. "it would not be professional to be on a first name basis with each other."

you hummed, finding excitement in challenging her, "it would not be fun if you acted so uptight all the time. it would be nice to have a friend."

"i am your personal guard, not a friend."

discouraged, you remained quiet during the remaining walk to the dining hall. knight williams settled into the seat beside you, while the prince sat in front of you.

he was a handsome man, but there was something that just wasn't there. you remembered when you were a child, when your mother told you love stories. she told you what love felt like. it made you nervous, giddy, and excited, among many other wonderful things.

it was quite a dreadful realization that you did not love the man sitting in front of you, who you would be wed to within the next month.

as the prince bragged of his accomplishments, you smiled and nodded when appropriate. your eyes often found knight williams.

stoic and mysterious, you wanted her facade of being forbearing to crumble away.

through the following days, you tested her patience. you had absolutely no interest in the prince, dreading the wedding day. but even if it was for just a moment, simply the presence knight williams eased your nerves.

you could tell her wall was slipping away, she was slowly letting you in, becoming more comfortable around you. you told her stories of your fathers' battles, your kingdom's drama, and how you wished you were not royalty at all.

"why is that?" she prompted.

you squeezed the pillow in your lap. a ball was scheduled later that night, but opposed to tending to your duties as a soon to be queen, you were laying on your couch with knight williams, chatting on a rainy day.

"sometimes...i wish i were you. you are so brave and strong, and you have been out in the world. been in danger. just once in my life, i want to protect myself, and have a story of an adventure to tell."

she remained silent.

"i suppose that is quite ignorant though. i wish to go through suffering and pain, just to get a taste of it."

she cleared her throat. "i understand. to be honest, i wish that i were you, sometimes. along with everyone in the kingdom," her chuckle following her words was a sound you could have gotten drunk on every night of your life.

your lips lifted into a smile, which she returned, after a moment of hesitance. time slowed, pausing so all there was, and all you hoped would be, was you and knight williams sitting on that couch on that rainy day.

her gaze fell, her shoulders tensing, slicing the frozen moment and returning to reality.

"you should prepare for the ball."

you swallowed, "yes, i should."

it was a horrible night. you shook hands with, curtsied to, and danced with men and women of importance for hours on end.

"sir, i apologize deeply, but i must head outside for a quick moment of fresh air," you bowed without waiting for response from a king of a kingdom you did not care about, and wove your way through the crowd until you pushed the gates to the garden open.

your hand traced the petals of pink flowers on a bush as you strolled through the garden.

the grass behind you rustled.

"it is just me, y/n," knight williams spoke.

you continued to wander in the garden, eventually coming upon a clearing where you fell to the ground, settling on your back.

"you may want to find somewhere else to sit, your dress will be stained—"

"i do not care. come lay with me. please."

the knight removed her helmet. then followed each piece of armor, leaving her in a crinkled white top and brown trousers.

"the stars are beautiful tonight," you told her. "i have seen drawings of constellations in my books, yet i have never been able to recognize them in the sky."

in a swift moment, knight williams took hold of your hand with herrs, pointing up to the sky in a pattern, which helped you to see a constellation which resembled a scorpion.

"wow..." you breathed. "show me more."

the two of you talked of astronomy, which you both had an interest in since you were children.

you giggled and pointed up at the sky, "that one looks like the prince. the star over there is his abnormally large chin jutting out."

you felt accomplished when knight williams let out a loud laugh. you wanted to know what she thought about the prince. did she see what you did? that something was missing from him, that you couldn't quite place?

"have you ever been in love?"

she nearly choked at your words.

"i—i have. why do you wonder?"

"i want to know what it is like. i think i am not in love with prince hills."

"i think you are not either," she whispered. her body adjusted to face yours. you mirrored her action.

"so? what is love like?" you repeated.

"it is...well...you want to spend all your time with that person. and they might make your stomach hurt. and make you very nervous. you may even think they are perfect."

her gaze did not falter, stuck on your curious eyes.

she chewed on her bottom lip. "do you feel that for the prince?"

"i do not," you replied, a chill rushing over your body. it could have been the autumn chill, yet you believed it was something different.

"i would rather spend all my time with you, knight william—"

"my name is ellie."

your heart raced. "and it is you, ellie, who makes me nervous. and i think you are as close to perfect a human could—"

your words died on your tongue, as she inched closer to you, the only noise being the grass which moved under her and your heavy breathing.

when her lips pressed against yours, you suddenly knew what love was. in hidden corridors, nights by the fireplace, away from the sight of prince hills, your love for ellie grew.

on the fateful day when stood in a white gown in a chapel, telling the prince you vowed to marry him, ellie sat with her head down.

you blinked a single tear from your eye.

in the castle, you made a simple excuse that you were exhausted to avoid spending the night with your husband. ellie stood outside your bedroom door, unsure whether or not to enter.

as soon as she heard your sobs, the door was flung open.

"y/n..." she whispered your name, stripping herself of her armor to pull you into her chest.

"can we run away from it all, ellie? i want to leave it all behind."

she held your face, grounding you with her sturdy touch.

"you have a kingdom to rule. i will always be here, though. i will never leave your side."

you nodded. "i know. i will always be yours."

the two of you drifted off to sleep, comforted by promises, trusting, because you just knew.

you blinked awake when the bright sun trickled through your blinds, the book on your chest unfinished. your wife beside you stirred awake.

"mornin'," she rasped, then gestured to the book. "whatcha got there?"

you had found the book with cobwebs and dust, a fairytale of a young couple destined to never be together by fate.

"it's an old romance book. hundreds of years ago they fell in love, despite all odds."

ellie smiled, "just like we did."

you scoffed, playfully hitting her arm. "you're such a sap."

a/n: omg im clinically insane

taglist: @skylerwhitwyo @ximtiredx @ohitsjordynn @gold-dustwomxn @elliesinterlude @fireflyels @trulygnomed @deluluwh-0-re @elliewilliamsmissingfingerss @emluvselandabs @ariianelle @jokerpokimoon @lonelyfooryouonly @lil-elliesgf @yuaaa05 @ourautumn86 @ucannotcompare @lunarpretty @cassharass @uberyellowsheep @444na0m1

[octuscle]

Last Night a DJ saved my life

Konrad was not a night owl. While his classmates left at 10 p.m. on weekends to turn night into day, Konrad either stayed home in front of the TV or babysat for the children of his parents' friends. He was not at all unhappy with this. He didn't feel like he was missing out on anything. Konrad was quite content with his life. And if he did let himself be persuaded to go out with his friends in the evenings on weekends, he was glad to be able to leave secretly at some point.

Tonight seemed to be just such an evening again. His friends were dancing, flirting, having fun. Konrad watched everything from a reasonably quiet corner, tried to look as cool as possible, and waited for it to get to 02:00. That seemed to him a reasonable time to say goodbye discreetly. But they had just arrived, he would have to be patient for another two and a half hours until then. As usual, Konrad was traveling by car. He didn't drink more than a Cuba Libre with Diet Coke in the evening anyway. And that's what he was in the mood for now. Although it was packed at the bar, one of the bartenders came straight up to Konrad. "Bro, long time no see! The usual?" Konrad nodded, a little irritated. Very well, he had an everyman face. Black T-shirt and black jeans were not original clothes. Probably the bartender had simply mixed him up. He took the drink, which was probably a whiskey or something, and handed the bartender his drink card. He just replied if Conrad was messing with him and said goodbye with an elaborate combination of fist bump and handshake that Conrad was surprisingly completely familiar with.

Conrad leaned against the bar counter and surveyed the dance floor. It was a good night. Breaking crowded and a good atmosphere. Still, there was something strange. He noticed people staring at him every now and then. Was it the chain? Yes, it was a bit extreme by his standards. But when he was partying… A quick eye contact with the bartender was enough, and his second rum was ready. Good stuff. Nevertheless, Canrad drank it down quickly. He felt like dancing now. The beats were good, the DJ was doing a very decent job. And he was a man with rhythm in his blood.

After half an hour, he needed a short break. With the agreed hand signal, Cainad signaled the bartender that he needed a water. The bottle came promptly and the bartender asked if his shift was about to begin. Cainad had no idea what the guy was talking about, but nodded and took a big swig from the bottle. Fuck, it was hot and he was pretty much spent. He took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead. A quick glance at the clock. He still had half an hour. Eh? Why did he have another half hour? It was just about 00:30. The evening had just begun. Anyway, now he had to take a piss. Could it be that people were taking pictures of him? A girl asked for a selfie with him. Sure, he answered. And the chick ran screeching to her equally screeching friends after the picture was taken. So, no more interruptions now, his bladder was full to bursting. He took his cock out of his fake leather pants and shot his stream into the urinal. Fuck, the guy next to him was staring at his face, then at his cock, then at his face again. Is something wrong, Cainan asked. The guy just stuttered something like, "That beard looks really good on you, Cainan." And obviously got a hard-on. Awesome guy, Cainan thought to himself. If he had more time, he would disappear in a box with him now. But even for a quickie it was getting tight now. Do you have something to write with, Cainan asked. The boy took a pen from his hipbag hanging over his chest and Cainan wrote his mobile number on his forearm. I get off work at 06:00, check in, he said, and turned around. The guy called after him, asking if Cainan wanted his number too. Laughing, Cainan raised his tattooed arms and said he couldn't find it again anyway.

DJ C'S AT THE MIXER! The crowd hooted. For the next five hours, Cainan would now heat up the guests. Tonight, after months of touring and guest appearances, he was finally back on the road in his home town. He would give everything!

[fun-k-board]

If you could, Lackadaisy headcanons for a teen reader who wants to be part of the Lackadaisy Speakeasy. Maybe the reader likes the thrill

Pronouns used : None, no gendered terms.

Note(s) : When you say teen, I'm assuming young teen since 16-17 is not too far from Freckle and Ivy's age. Characterisation may not be accurate and criticism on how I portray them is very much appreciated.

Roark 'Rocky' Rickaby

Likes your spirit! Jokingly calls you the better cousin he never had which earns an eye roll from Freckle. I don't imagine you get out on missions much + it probably took ages to get in because you're fairly young, but when you do, it's chaos. If you get along with Rocky and even encourage his habits, then either the missions will fail or succeed but with broken limbs, at least three blown up buildings and a lot awkward explaining.

If you're not confident enough to say no and on the opposite spectrum, are sometimes the voice of reason, he calls you a mini Freckle and teases you about it constantly. I imagine he'd sort of becomes an elder brother figure regardless of what kind of a person you are, begging for Mitzi to let you stay even if you mess up often. You accept him for who he is, you're his friend, he wants you to still like him and he sees himself in you.

Rocky also gives you some sneaky sips of alcohol they get, hey, it isn't anything too much, and he compares it to church giving out wine which makes Freckle tremble in fear as his mother senses she needs to throw someone out a window. Besides, he worked hard to get it! Even if he was the one to screw the run around up, it's sharing and caring, friendship is very important.

Mitzi May

Has apprehensions about letting you join, it'd take convincing and by then she probably doesn't want to bring you on too many dangerous missions. Given how she is around Rocky, I don't think she'd be uncaring if you're similar to him. High spirits and an urge to please her, similar to the man in question, to her, you're a kid. She has trouble telling you no in a way that isn't tip toeing around the subject.

Even if you can also be useful and your begging is temptation straight from the snake, Mitzi will always tell others you're a kid and treat you like one, no matter if it's important or not in that situation. She feels horrible that you may not make it to the next day, but they're understaffed and need to get business up and running, Mitzi comes to think of you like her own after a while. Although, she wishes you weren't so eager to put your life on the life.

Ivy Pepper

I imagine she also loves your spirit, finds you adorable and will have the urge to become your friend, asking Mitzi to let you join and vouching for you. Ivy is also the only one to treat you on equal ground, even Rocky will just view you as a child in the end, but she tries viewing you as a friend first. This can he bad or good depending, but she doesn't want to pretend you're frail, this doesn't mean she won't crack down on you and be strict like an older sister.

Doesn't matter if you have two left feet and stumble, she will teach you to dance, you won't get out of it, and trust me when I tell you she's determined. The lessons consist of you stepping on her toes and laughing so hard you just fall on the ground.

Since she's fairly new to doing heavy jobs as well, only joining in as they are understaffed, she understands if you mess up sometimes and don't fully get what to do. Ivy was born into this life and teaches you the ropes that you wouldn't understand.

Calvin 'Freckle' McMurray

Uncomfortable to the max, he genuinely can't even look you in the eye for the longest time. He already had worries in joining himself, Ivy has been working in Lackadaisy for a long time, Rocky is... Uh, Rocky. But you? You're a literal teen who just likes the thrill of it, Freckle tries to be a good influence on your life and tells you not to join. Which he understands is incredibly hypocritical, but at the same time, he can't find it in himself to care about his hypocrisy too much.

Hopes to convince Mitzi to not put too much pressure on you, he is very attentive and any limp or struggle is met with a lecture that makes Rocky get flashbacks to Freckle's mother. Gets incredibly apologetic if you see him with guns and how insane he can be, regardless on how you feel, he's guilty that he may be influencing you badly.

Viktor Vasko

At first you thought he wanted you to die, an intense stare placed on you at all times with a smashed glass from his seemingly violent thoughts. But all he sees is a dumb kid, someone who needs to get out before this business kills you. He won't exactly be caring about it either, simply telling you that if you continue being reckless with your life, you will die. If you aren't careful? Maybe others you love.

It's worse if you end up bonding with him, even a little, he gets even angrier with those around you. He will not let you out of his sight if he can help it. Essentially? He's a very tough love guy, Viktor comes off as though he doesn't like you, which may be true on the surface, but deeeeeeeeep deeeeeeeeep down, he likes you a little. Maybe. Sometimes. Not often.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Crooked

They identified the body by her dental records. Her bag was full of them.

"Well, she was definitely some kind of dentist." Detective Sidwell dropped the copies back to the desk. "That should make the identification easier."

"Dr Jane Doe." Sidwell's colleague, Detective Lita, was inspecting the other crime scene photographs. The gory ones. "With a nice big cavity, it seems - carved right in the middle of her chest. She bled out all over the place, although she'd probably say that's because she didn't floss."

"What are we thinking for our suspects?" Sidwell asked, ignoring the jokes. One of them had to stay professional, to focus on the job at hand - and somehow that burden always seemed to fall to him. "A colleague? Patient?"

"No, it looks pretty frenzied to me."

"I'm serious."

Lita took a moment to think it through. "I don't see it, to be honest. I know people hate going to the dentist, but not to the point of murder. In fact, I'll bet you it's nothing to do with her job at all. Dentists can get stabbed for the same reasons as anybody else, right? A fight over her love-life, a mugging gone wrong, heading down the wrong alley at the wrong time, that sort of thing."

"I'll take that action," Sidwell said, holding her to the bet. Professionalism had its merits, but the job could get pretty bleak if they didn't find their own ways to keep things light. "What's your wager? Buy me a coffee?"

"Sure, you can pick me up a latté from the new place downtown." Lita smiled her crooked smile, her teeth stained brown from coffees past. No sugar, though. I wouldn't want to be disrespectful."

With his compensation agreed, Sidwell knuckled down to work on the case. He knew he'd need to do the lion's share of the investigation, as he always did, and the bets were a way of getting something out of it. Or motivating Lita to put a shift in, when it looked like things weren't going her way. She wasn't often too focused on following up leads, but could roll her sleeves up when a bet was in the balance.

Theirs was an unusual partnership, and certainly not an equal one. Lita's lack of professionalism extended far beyond the jokes, and Sidwell often felt that she was less of a help than a liability. He was left to follow up forensics requests she'd forgotten to send, rewrite notes which she'd misplaced on the landfill site that she called a desk, and generally carry her through the working day.

She sometimes apologised, or thanked him with a drink, but showed no sign of trying to be better. Even on this case, charged with catching a murderer, she seemed disinterested in the details. A savaged corpse was enough motivation for Sidwell to chase down every suspect, and he wondered what exactly it would take to capture Lita's attention in the same way. If even this case failed to move her, he didn't understand why she'd wanted to become a cop in the first place.

"Tell me again," Lita asked. "You think she was some sort of orthodontist?"

"A rogue one, according to these reports. She messed up people's teeth intentionally, just so they wouldn't match their dental records. That's why she had so many in her bag. It looks like some local crime ring hired her to sort out their goons, so that they'd never be identified if they were killed."

It had been a tough one for Sidwell to get his head around - it felt like getting laser eye surgery to make yourself more short-sighted, or asking a plastic surgeon to add more wrinkles to your forehead, but it did seem to make sense from the perspective of a killer. If teeth could be reshaped at will, anybody on the system could be fitted with a brand new set, removing any prospect of a match. It was certainly easier than having to dissolve them.

He hadn't realised how often the police relied upon dental records to identify bodies - especially those who'd been disposed of carefully, with the rest of the face disfigured and hands removed - or quite how malleable those patterns were. It was like if there was a whole industry for designer fingerprints or DNA, shaping perfect whorls and helixes, and the state still treated them like unique identifiers. How many past matches had they missed because of Jane Doe's meddling? Even she could be on their database somewhere, hidden behind an unrecognisable overbite.

"A heterodontist, if you will." Lita brought him back to the present.

"No."

"I didn't realise the mob had a dental plan. So what are we thinking? One of the grunts saw their disappearance coming, and swung by to give her a stainless steel filling?"

"This feels like a professional hit. Maybe the higher-ups, if she knew too much. But either way, this isn't just a random attack, right? She's not been murdered for something unrelated to all those murders she helped to cover up. You have to concede that would be too big of a coincidence."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you're saying," she conceded, hands up in mock surrender. "I'll buy you your drink. Where do you want to go?"

Even then she dragged her feet. Lita made him wait outside whilst she went back to get her jacket, then spilt his coffee at the first attempt and had to go back to the counter to replace it. Sidwell might think her a sore loser, if she wasn't like this about literally everything. Even when he finally had the cup in his hand, he suspected that she'd somehow got his order wrong.

"What's in this drink?" He recoiled at the first sip, but went back for a second. It wasn't unpleasant, exactly - just unexpected. Notes of almond, and something he couldn't quite place. "You just asked for normal milk, right?"

She shook her head. "I added a couple of shots. You deserve a little treat."

"That's not going to be good for my teeth."

"I'm sure our victim will forgive you." Lita grinned, as if to prove his point. "You're the one who was right about her, so you're allowed a little indulgence."

Sidwell tried to be polite, to set an example to her as much as anything. No wonder she'd been at the counter for longer than usual. The coffee wasn't awful, if he ignored the other flavours. Was this what she went for every day? He wondered if the sugar was to blame for her performance, which alternated from erratic to lethargic, like a hyper child who crashed in the afternoons.

Lita watched him drink in silence for a while, then seemed to find the courage for a question.

"Do you think that I'm incompetent?"

Sidwell weighed it up - probably for a second too long. So this was why she'd wanted them to grab a drink together, one way or another. She needed to talk about her career, away from the precinct. "I wouldn't use that word."

"So what word would you use?" she pressed. "Competent?"

"Well... okay, maybe not. Sorry."

Lita nodded. "No, that's good to hear. It'll work on the next guy."

"Huh? Are you transferring from the squad?" Sidwell tried to feign dismay, but knew that she'd always been the better liar. "Is this goodbye?"

"Sure," she said. "Call it a leaving drinks."

"You don't want something?" He gestured with his cup before another deep sip. "Gods, this is potent stuff."

"Only the best for my old partner." She sat back, watching him with something almost like nostalgia in her eyes. "A way of apologising, I suppose. How many of our cases have I delayed, or outright obstructed?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say obstructed," Sidwell told her, trying to find something nice to say. The truth was that she'd often been as much a hindrance as a help, and he'd be glad to get a better partner in her place. "That suggests that you were doing it on purpose. You were just... there's a lot to learn. I'm sure that you've always tried your best."

"That's right," Lita said, although she didn't seem too worried about it. "And if criminals profited from my mistakes, even the failed prosecutions, that's just because I was learning the ropes."

"Yes, I'm sure it's something like that." It didn't sound great when she said it. They were supposed to be detectives. Not for the first time, Sidwell wondered how she'd earnt such a sacred responsibility, or why she'd even wanted it. "But that's why you have a partner. To support you."

"Like you've almost solved this dentist case, all on your own."

"Almost, yeah."

"And you're sure it was a professional hit, from the group she did the work for? There's nothing I say that can persuade you otherwise?"

"I'm sorry, but no," Sidwell said. "You can check out the other angles if you like, and I'd never dissuade you from doing so, but I'm pretty convinced by my current leads. Why, do you know anything you haven't shared?"

"Of course not," Lita said, lying through her crooked teeth. Had he ever noticed quite how bad they were? "You've won me over. That's why we're here, right? I'm sure your theory is correct, and you'll get their names in due course. You just enjoy the rest of your drink to celebrate. Like I said, you deserve it - every last sip."

[theclaravoyant]

Ripples (Hen, Tommy) - 1400wd

AN ~ i am obsessed with sweet, sweet platonic content and the hentommy moment we may never get, so i'm giving us one.

In the middle of a building collapse (because of course they are), Hen and Tommy catch up. Read on AO3 (~1500wd)

-

It's coming down!

The ear-shattering screech of steel and concrete is the only thing Hen can hear for a long moment after she throws herself forward into the hallway. The roof is holding out here, although the concrete dust isn't helping as the air is becoming dangerously smokey. A torn electrical line spits out aimless sparks. But she's okay.

Grimacing against the oncoming headache, she gets to her feet and takes stock.

“Ravi, you okay?”

“Partial floor collapse back here when the ceiling came down,” Ravi reports from somewhere out of sight. He coughs. “I'm down a floor, but I'm okay.”

“Kinard?”

Nothing.

“Tommy? Come in.”

“Hen?”

His voice is weak, but she's not just hearing it through the comms. Hen turns back to the pile of rubble, sifting through sheets of ceiling plaster and trying to pinpoint where it's coming from. Soon enough, she sees a hand wave.

“Got you,” she assures him. “How you feeling?”

He groans. She frowns as she clears the last of the lighter debris, and can see why, because of course he's not been lucky enough to catch a bit of plaster and plywood. He's stuck face-down, the whole back half of his body pinned under probably a half a tonne of rubble.

“My leg,” he advises. “Right's okay I- I think. Left is really- oh, Christ, I think it's twisted up pretty bad. At least it was. I can't- I don't think I can feel it anymore.”

Tommy's breath shakes like he's fighting off a panic attack as Hen requests assistance. Possible spinal. Even when she manages to get both of their halligans under there and relieve some of the pressure, there's only so much that can be seen from here of his bloody mess of a knee. She can only confirm that it's highly unlikely his toes are actually moving. And sure, it means maybe nothing but maybe it means a pinched nerve or amputation or permanent paralysis or, or, or – in other words; no more being a firefighter, no more being a pilot, no more of a lot of other things too probably and that hurts so much more than the fact that half his body's being pulverised into the floor.

“Come on now,” Hen challenges gently. “You know better than to take it to the worst case scenario.”

He nods as best he can down here. He's starting to feel cold and shake and it's got to be some kind of stress response. Is he going into shock?

“I also know better,” he manages, “than putting myself on the call roster for the craziest firehouse in LA.”

“Yeah, well. We all do stupid things for pretty boys, hm?”

He can picture it, the smirk on her face; equal parts compassion and mischievousness. It makes him feel warmer and stop clenching his jaw. He hadn't even realised he was doing that. But she's right, and she's picked a hell of a time to bring it up, and it's working: thinking of Evan and his boyish smile and his big blue eyes brings his heart rate down, steadies his breathing...

Hen settles in beside him. She's close enough to check his brachial pulse, or grab him and yank him forward – possible spinal be damned - if anything else goes down, but as it is, they wait.

After a few breaths of reassuringly collapse-sounds-free silence, Tommy asks:

“So, how's Karen and Denny?”

It almost makes her laugh. He's still face down and bleeding under a roof and for his tone, they could be stood free and clear around an average office water cooler. Ah, the life of a firefighter.

“They're good,” Hen assures him. “Great, actually. You know, Denny's almost fourteen?”

“Wow. Way to make me feel old.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Evan tells me you guys have a daughter now too?”

“Mara,” Hen updates him. “She's nine. Came to us through foster. She's been through a lot but we're getting there. She's really strong, and she's working really hard, you know, to heal.”

“Good, that's good. Sounds like she's got a bright future ahead of her,” Tommy congratulates. Then a more sombre tone settles into his voice. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

It's something about having your whole life and livelihood hanging in the balance that brings out this sort of confessional in people, Hen knows. She's both always wary of it, and also sort of addicted to the kind of radical honesty that constantly spilling your literal actual guts tends to inspire. So even as she tries to get out - “Tommy, we don't have to do this,” - she braces herself to accept whatever is about to come next as if it's the last thing he'll ever get to say.

“I'm sorry I was such a dick to you,” he says, “back in the day. I wish I could say I just got caught up in the machismo and stuff but honestly I- I didn't know any better. And I didn't really want to try. But you, and Chim, you're some of the best firefighters out there and I didn't give you guys your due and I'm sorry.”

Tears prick at Hen's eyes, and it doesn't help the sweat and smoke and concrete dust that's still settling all around them. She'd patched over these wounds a long time ago but it feels nice all the same, freeing in a way she hadn't anticipated, to get an apology she was never going to ask for.

“You know,” Tommy continues, softer now. “I think you saved my life.”

“Uh, pretty sure I'm up to about six counts of that,” she jests, because she can feel it coming;

“I'm not talking about in the field.”

There it is.

Hen's breath catches in her throat as Tommy finds the courage to recount it. She's felt it coming for a long time now, maybe even years, but certainly since he'd strode into Chim's hospital room all giddy and covered with soot and with Buck she'd kind of wondered. Wondered what her crying and demanding to be seen in the middle of the firehouse floor all those years ago might have actually done. It had done a lot for her, but she'd never quite be ready to hear, let alone to contemplate, what those words might have done for a man who'd grown up in a military family under don't ask don't tell – the same policy that had kept Karen's dream out of reach until it was too late. For a man who'd not grown up having and valuing marginalised experiences; not having a bad-ass, butch as hell mother who'd always taught her to speak her truth, even if that truth was something said mother had struggled to deal with at first. He'd been taught how to be a man and a gentleman and a soldier and not much else. He'd never realised what intimacy could actually be like, what love could actually be like; he'd thought he'd scared off every girl he'd ever had because there was something abnormal about him. Something fundamentally unloveable.

“... Bits and pieces, looking back – you know how it is. I'd just always sort of thought there was something wrong with me. I'd never really seen any other possibility. Until you. So. I know I'm late to the party, but for what it's worth – I see you now, Hen. And I am honoured to call you Captain.”

Hen nods, trying to swallow the lump in her throat as some of those tears splash down her cheeks. In spite of herself she feels something reach back in time and touch her fierce, heartbroken younger self; a promise that it's going to be worth it one day.

“It's worth a lot, Tommy,” she manages. “Thank you.”

Then, the radio crackles back to life.

“Cap,” Eddie reports, “Ambulances from the 133 pulling up. 118 should be on you now.”

Footsteps clamour down the hall toward them, as Ravi, Buck and Chim rush in, backboard and hydraulic jack in hand. Chim pushes the morphine, Ravi pushes the pain point of the rubble away, Buck and Hen slide Tommy out and even though he yelps and moans Buck can't hide the joy and relief that breaks out on his face as they flip him onto his back and slide him onto the backboard in swift, perfectly matched unison like a well-oiled machine.

“We've got you,” Buck promises, squeezing one of Tommy's trembling hands with a sweaty, giddy smile. He glances over at Hen, and checks in - “You good?”

What do you think it is? he'd asked her once. The secret to happiness?

He's in the middle of a burning building, and it looks like it's pouring out of him now.

“I'm great,” she replies. “Let's move.”

[alyssacat013]

Sooooo I’ve now watched episode 7 of season 2 of Twin Peaks. I wasn’t planning on making another post so soon. I figured I’d make an update every 4-5 episodes, but this one was too big not to get its own post.

You see I watched episode 6 last night before I went to bed and then had to get up the next morning and pack because I was going on a flight so I wrote my last update at the airport terminal while waiting for my flight to board and then decided to watch episode 7 on my flight (it was a short flight-only an hour) since I had downloaded the episodes on my iPad and wow I was not expecting anything that happened. After the episode ended I was in shock the rest of the flight and the car ride home. I literally stared at the screen with my mouth wide open.

Quickly before I talk about the REVEAL, I’ll discuss a couple other important things that happened this episode. In this episode we find that Harold committed suicide and also ripped up Laura’s diary although Cooper was able to piece some of it back together. Also, we find out that Ben Horne and Laura had a relationship of sort and he says that he loved her, which like what, seems like many people were in love with this girl. This then leads to Ben getting arrested for suspicion that he killed Laura which I honestly knew right away it was definitely not him. Also, this episode at the end we find out that Catherine has been the Japanese business man in disguise this whole time, which I honestly was not expecting that, interested in what her end goal is I’m assuming something to screw over Ben.

Okay, NOW let’s get to the ending. Last episode we found out that Bob was hiding as/inhabiting someone and that this person was frequently at the Great Northern Hotel, well now it’s been revealed that Bob is actually Laura’s dad, Leland!!!!!! The mirror reveal scene was so chilling and such a great reveal. Also, the subsequent murder of poor Maddy afterwards was so horrific and disturbing. Like the cuts between Leland dancing with Maddy and Bob biting and kissing her were so creepy. The whole surreal dreamlike quality of the scene, with the bar singer’s voice intercut with Maddy’s screams made an unforgettable scene.

Also, looking back it’s crazy how everything makes sense now with this reveal. Like Leland works for Ben Horne so of course he’s at the Great Northern Hotel a lot. Also, it makes sense why Leland said he remembered Bob as a kid living in a white home next to them and yet there was no record of Bob ever living there. Also, it makes sense why Laura’s mom and Maddy were the only two people who had those visions of Bob because they were living with him. Also, I’m now sure it was Bob/Leland who shot Cooper and probably attacked Dr Jacoby because both of those incident were from a man wearing all black with black leather gloves and we see Leland in an all black outfit with leather gloves when he kills Jacques. Also, it makes sense why Laura has been haunted by Bob since she was a child because he’s been her Dad the whole time! No wonder poor Laura was so messed up when she got older she was living with a monster her whole life. It also makes sense why when Laura and Ronette were kidnapped and tortured that Ronette was able to escape. They mention in the show that the reason they think Ronette escaped was because Bob was so intently focused on Laura for some reason that he didn’t notice Ronette escaping and now we know why. Also, I guess this explains why his hair went suddenly white overnight for no reason.

Honestly, this reveal was the most heartbreaking outcome because that means Laura got killed and tortured and r*ped by her own Dad. It’s too horrific to even process. Also, Leland seemed so sweet and kind and just a poor man struggling with grief that this reveal was like a shot to the heart. I’m honestly still in somewhat disbelief over it and I’m equally desperate to continue the show while also being scared to. I’m so curious what impact Maddy’s death will have and if we’ll see more of Bob now that we know who he is and how are Cooper and Truman going to figure it out.

Anyway, this episode was incredible and this show is incredible and I can’t wait to see what comes next.

[ghost-go-roasty-mctoasty]

So basically the Collectors aren't allowed to interfere with all the life that they collect according to their rules. If I'm to make a guess by the picture at the bottom, they were treated like gods.

And looking at all these pictures, there seemed to always be 3 Collectors "ruling" at once.

So the collectors had a war with the titans, and obviously the titans won, which is why no one on the Boiling Isles know anything about The Collectors. In the pictures here the titans seemed to be potrayed as evil, but since we only have the current Collector to go off of, they dont seem very trustworthy,, although this Collector has never lied tbf.

But on the pictures here, the Collectors look like theyre greeting a baby Collector (this current one?), and then all the baby titans are playing with a that baby Collector. These two beings probably spent time together, since it was pointed out that theyre somewhat equal power-wise, I assume a war broke out between them? Maybe the current Collector started messing with them too much and the titans didn't want to put up with it. Maybe the titans were actually good, which may be why they just locked him away instead of killing him.

But where have all the other Collectors gone? Are they all trapped in their own discs? And are there any more titans out there? The titan trappers said that there was only one left (King) but they were also living on a hand from a completely different dead titans body, so its possible theres another baby titan out there...

Anyways, I noticed that some of the pictures were torn up, similarly to the ones in Belos' mindscape. Belos tore up those pictures because he didnt want the memories haunting him, did The Collector do that for similar reasons? But nvm I zoomed in and theyre just copies of the other pictures lol. Maybe Eda ripped them up when they were transporting her back her as the owl beast?

I have so many questions!! Is this kid the last collector? Did the Collectors kill all the titans? It would make sense since the titan trappers worship the Collector...

I can't wait for the next episode 😭

[silverbladexyz]

May I request headcanons of Yukito the “insanely smart and hot detective” with a fem s/o who is the “insanely really smart and divine old money heiress of her successful family”😩

My insanely smart and hot anon, why of course~ ;)

The image does not belong to me. It belongs to it's original owner.

TW: None.

Ayatsuji with a really smart fem!S/O who is a divine money heiress

-Two words: power couple

-An intelligent and sassy detective with an equally as intelligent and wealthy partner? The vibes you two give off scream 'cool' and 'dangerous'; almost as if Fyodor and Dazai were in a relationship although this isn't about them

-Ayatsuji loves how smart you are. He thinks a lot of people in his life are slow and dumb, and it’s annoying how he has to keep explaining things to them. So having you as his partner is really refreshing for him because he finally has someone who can keep up with his speed of thinking

-He brings you out to a lot of his cases. Two minds are better than one, and especially when it’s two smart minds working on a case. You help to go through all of his deductions and the evidence and help find any mistakes that he may have made. Ayatsuji is quite thankful that you’re able to cover up his blind spots

-And since you two are around the same IQ level, expect Ayatsuji to hold a lot of conversations with you that normal people would’ve had a headache trying to keep up with. Whenever you two are in a deep and ‘intelligent’ conversation, it’s almost as if you’re talking in code with him. Ango has spent countless nights without sleep trying to figure out what you two meant

-Ayatsuji plays a lot of mind games with you for fun. You never back down, and sometimes you even beat him at his own game. Afterwards you two even play a few rounds of chess and cards with no signs of exhaustion; even chatting amicably as you were trying to checkmate his king

-Also since you’re rich, buy some expensive and fancy things for him! Not anything too big and extra, but he would probably prefer matching accessories because it’s a really cool reminder of the love you have for each other. One time you bought him a princess outfit when he asked you to wear a maid outfit that he bought #PrincessYukitoAyatsuji2023

-In the rare times when you two would not be playing mind games or solving cases, Ayatsuji would make dolls with you. He has a talent for stitching them, and you were obviously intrigued with his interest, so you asked him to teach you the skill. When you finished making your doll, Ayatsuji would prop it up with his other dolls in his basement and regularly clean it

-Expect times when Ayatsuji would teach you some new stuff, whether it be general knowledge or case etiquettes. He loves teaching you, and sometimes even teases you for not knowing it earlier. But you get back at him by teasing him about stuff that he doesn’t know about

-Basically you two are a powerful and intelligent couple that must not be messed with, or there’d be hell to pay

By the way I didn’t tag some people because I am not sure if they have read Gaiden yet, so please let me know if you have read Gaiden and/or Stormbringer so I know which posts to tag you on.

@pixyys @nekokinax @pianotross @xxelfmamaxx @yuugen-benni @yukitomybeloved @arisu-chan4646

[fang-and-feather]

A Third Chance to Live

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Robert Hooke, MC

Words: 1,096

Tags: Canon Divergence, Hints of Magical MC, Background Isaac x MC, Fluff

Summary: One would think that after dying once and becoming a vampire, it would take out the strangeness of waking up when you thought you were dead. It didn’t. But in the midst of his confusion, he met with Isaac's girlfriend, the woman to whom he owns his third chance at life, even if she has no idea how that happened either.

My entry for the Wish Upon an Aide event by @wordycheeseblob and @lorei-writes, for the Yellow Prompt: Life

Although I had more ideas, this is probably the only one I will finish in time (well, "finish" if you count a chapter as finishing, but it's that kind of chapter that can kind of stand on it's own, at least form my pov). I chose this one of all the ideas I had because I felt like it was something quite unique that although I thought of long ago, I don't think i would have another chance to actually write since unique things usually make e nervous...

Also, I feel like this fic sounds a little too shippy from all sides, and that was not the intention 😅

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

One would think that after dying once and becoming a vampire, it would take out the strangeness of waking up when you thought you were dead.

It didn’t. Waking up this time was equally disorientating.

Where was he? How did he survive? The only strange thing he could remember as he lost consciousness was a strange warmth that spread from the wound, enveloping him.

He stood up, but not without having to find purchase on the wall. It hurt to breathe too deeply, making him check to find the wound hadn’t fully closed. Did that mean he wasn’t out for too long?

He took in his surroundings. A simply furnished bedroom, with the curtain drawn over the window, only a sliver of light escaping through it and indicating it was daytime.

With the fog clearing from his mind, he realized there was only one place he could be in. That didn’t explain why he was alive, though.

He could feel the light burning in his throat, making finding food his priority. But he had no idea where to find the kitchen, and moving was difficult. Sometimes he had dizzy spells. At others, his legs threatened to give out.

He had to stop to catch his breath when someone finally found him.

“Mr. Hooke? You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

It was Isaac’s lady - had she told him her name? A lot of his memories were foggy, - who rushed to his side, balancing the empty tray she was carrying with one hand and pressing the palm of her free hand against his forehead.

“You’re burning up. Let’s get you back to bed and I’ll get you some Rouge. Even if you don’t think you need, I think it should help.”

“Thank you.” Robert nodded and let her guide him back.

It was strange to find himself alone with her again, with the woman being so nice to him.

Despite his messed up memories, he was aware of what he had done. They had smoothed things out before his ‘death’, but it still felt strange that she was so comfortable and so worried with him.

He was happy Isaac found someone like her.

It took a few minutes, but she returned smiling, bringing, besides the Rouge, a pair of sandwiches and another cup.

“I brought food and coffee too, but you don’t need to eat if you don’t want. I just thought it would be nice.”

“That is nice of you. Thank you.”

Although vampires didn’t need to eat, she went out of the way to make him something in case he wanted.

“You’re welcome. I always find that good food helps when you’re ill, if only by improving your mood. Although I just improvised something I could make quick. And I don’t even know if you like coffee…”

“This is enough.” He smiled, reassuring her, before drinking down the Rouge and then turning his attention to the food. “Will you sit with me for a moment?” She nodded and pulled the chair from the desk closer to the bed. “How long I was asleep for?”

“About five days. Your wound was taking too long to heal, and we were worried. Isaac especially. He’ll be happy you woke up.”

Robert nodded. He would be happy with the opportunity to talk to Isaac again, but that reminded him this was his third shot at life. Not many people received a second chance, let alone a third. And this time, he hadn’t chosen to come back. He had no idea why he wasn’t dead.

“Mr. Hooke?” The sweet, worried voice interrupted his thoughts. “Should I leave so you can rest?”

“No. I was just lost in thought.” He thought of asking Isaac about this latter, but she was there too. Maybe she would have answers. He wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it for long until he had answers. “Do you know how I survived? Both of us know I shouldn’t. What happened?”

She furrowed her brows and looked down at her hands that closed into fists around the fabric of her skirt before speaking, voice just above a whisper.

“I… I think I saved you. But I have no idea how I did that. My body reacted on its own and… there was a light… your wound started to close, but not enough that you were out of risk. Whatever energy had overcome me was gone in an instant. Comte said it was a miracle. Whatever they shot you with should have been able to kill a vampire. He said I should be proud to have been able to save a life but… well, I am happy. But I’m also confused, and… maybe I didn’t fully recover from losing that energy either. And up until now we had no idea if you would really survive…”

“I admit I am curious about how you could save me,” Robert interrupted her, seeing how distressed she was, “but I will also be forever grateful to you for this.” He stood up, feeling a little more stable, and bowed to her, making her look up at him with surprise. “After wasting my second life with senseless grief, chasing something that no longer exists, I am glad for a chance to restart, and that I will have an opportunity to talk to Isaac again. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome, then. I am also happy that Isaac will have a friend like you. Now,” she stood up, “I think I should get back to work and let you rest. I will tell Isaac to drop by when he comes back.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Thank you for keeping me company.” He bowed again, and she mimicked the gesture with a smile.

“It was my pleasure, Mr. Hooke. If Isaac doesn’t come home soon, I’ll drop by again. If you don’t mind.”

“I would love that. And you can call me Robert.”

She told him her name, extending a hand for him to shake.

Robert hoped their relationship would remain friendly, since she was the one who saved his life and they would both be sharing a close relationship with Isaac, and he knew she had priority.

Isaac went from a man who lost everything to one who had everything while he wasn’t around. Maybe it was selfish of him to seek to restore the relationship they once had. Maybe he was too stuck in the past.

But he was given a third chance. Something he thought impossible. And he would try not to have so much to regret this time.

I did't know if I should tag people on this, but...

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground, @2-lines-and-a-circle

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[ming-sik]

How do you think canon would react to your au?

there's definitely a lot of them who are mostly unrecognizable, like tuuli's personality overhaul is so substantial and her original character is so flat that i think that baon!tuuli would scan as a completely different character who happens to share her name if they ever actually met. there's also a lot who are similar enough that there wouldn't be a huge clash, although canon angelica and baon!angelica are very different, you wouldn't notice the differences unless they were called to perform a task without using enhancement magic and angie suddenly had to deal with dyslexia symptoms. so im just gonna do the highlights

canon rozemyne would probably find baon!rozemyne to be a bit of a coward. myne entering noble society under conditions that force her to constantly keep the danger nobles pose to her in mind means that she has to act way more cautiously than canon rozemyne gets to since she cannot solve any problem that canon rozemyne solves by brute force. i do think she would be very worried about the fact that rozemyne is hartmut's retainer. surprisingly, otherwise she's the character who changes the least since i already find her interesting to mess around with.

ferdinand is basically the same in personality with only the details changed. he's an analytical, callous proponent of noble society who is the way he is because he views his own life as a tool. he's a version of himself who wasn't surprised by myne and therefore didn't allow her to influence him. that said he comes across as way more villainous simply because we don't mainly see him through the perspective of the one person he likes and respects, we see the way he treats everyone else.

hartmut would be one of the more divergent comparisons. in the AU he fixates on printing itself instead of rozemyne, fascinated by the myriad of practical and social challenges to implementing widescale printing. this comes after rozemyne earns his respect by accurately and viciously chewing him out in a way he's never experienced. his initial assignment to help with the printing industry ended up in him slacking off and sabotaging it bc he doesn't care, but despite everyone else knowing it was common sense to just wait for it to be over and try to pick up the pieces, rozemyne pointed out that he was being such a jerk because he didn't have any actually helpful knowledge since he refused to listen to lower-status nobles long enough to learn the basics and didn't back down when he tried to strongarm her into giving up. idk if canon hartmut would be impressed by rozemyne being good at arguing(or extremely stubborn when it comes to books) but baon!hartmut's main problem is that his entire brain revolves around whatever he finds interesting and anything outside of that is for the most part beneath his notice, so when rozemyne interests him and makes printing interesting, he latches onto it. he mirrors ferdinand, but because of his age she's able to push their dynamic closer to peers and unlike ferdinand he comes to see her as someone who is intellectually his equal, as well as them being very similar kinds of autistic. also he ends up playing the comedic role sylvester does since he's a silly guy who is her boss but who she isn't especially scared of and has a personal rapport with.

sylvester is as always my special little guy. i cannot decide if he and baon!sylvester would totally get each other or fight to the death. i push sylvester a Lot farther, with him being forced to choose and choose and choose whether he cares more about preserving his status or doing what he feels is right with the cost of doing what he feels is right getting higher every time and eventually him having to accept that his fundamental worldview is incompatible with him as a person. canon sylvester might think he's kind of a dumbass since most of those problems are solved for him by someone else so he doesn't have to deal with them or just don't exist in the first place and while in my heart sylvester is just waiting for the right push to go full communist i dont think that's supported by canon if we don't ignore the back half of the series. he spends a lot more time as an antagonist or at least a character who is definitely doing something wrong, and unfortunately his silliness is very constrained by how on fire everything is for the majority of the story. born to game forced to adult as some might say

charlotte might view baon!charlotte as a kind of wish fulfillment, at least at first. since charlotte decides to take advantage of wilfried's condemnation by launching a story-long mission to become aub ehrenfest at any cost, she's a wayyyyy more active force in the story. she's a massive schemer and although her goal is to stabilize ehrenfest and become an aub who can save it from the brink of collapse, she is ultimately incapable of doing that on her own using the tools of her nobility, almost getting turned into georgine's pawn through trying to exploit her without fully understanding who she's up against. how much and how viciously she fights with sylvester is definitely very different, since their conflict between sylvester wanting to keep charlotte safe in the immediate future and charlotte wanting her life to be as valuable to her duchy as possible, plus an entire childhood of bad blood from sylvester's neglect mean that charlotte actively hates him for a lot of the story.

detlinde is more expanded than changed. detlinde's narcissism as a result of the abuse and neglect she's under means that she clings until her fingers bleed to the idea that someday she will be big and powerful enough to leave all the haters in her dust. she's aware that her mother only cares about her as a pawn, but she's bad at that and so she rails against it, refusing to throw herself at whichever noble her mom demands she curry favor with when all it has ever done is make people hate her more. charlotte is initially just a target georgine gives her, but charlotte is too committed to gaining her as an ally at first and too sympathetic to her later to give up. detlinde is in a very complicated place for a lot of the story, torn between wanting to stay in her comfortable shell or follow charlotte to the terrifying world of trying to function within society instead of hoping to spontaneously escape it one day. this kicks into overdrive when georgine starts treating charlotte as the daughter she always wished she'd had, which explodes her and charlotte's relationship, and is unfortunately After hartmut is engaged to detlinde on charlotte's promise that he would be a reliable ally in her own quest for the throne. detlinde & hartmut end up being a team of antagonists once charlotte defects to the revolutionaries but that's way later i havent thought about the details yet. probably they're tragic antagonists because that's fun :)

[neko-naruto]

from hero to the hunted

Summary: a brief glance into the ways John Dory coped with the isolation, and how the hell a Pop Troll managed to survive for twenty years in the mountains

Warnings: gutting a massive fish (it gets a bit gross), grieving, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: I've been thinking of how in the fuck he survived out there in isolation since I saw the movie, now I've written about it so I can sleep easy at night. anyways! hope ya'll enjoy and if you do consider dropping a reblog or checkin the ao3 port, it really means a lot

"It's just me and my armadillo now, I guess," John Dory said, out loud, too himself, even though no one else existed in this empty forest. It was just him and his armadillo, which he was going to kill for meat, but chose against it when he realized she was sort of... Hollow.

She didn't have any meat, she was just an exterior, why she was like that he didn't know. And he would've left her alone, forever, but she decided to nuzzle up against his leg and chirp at him and he couldn't deny that. Only a monster would deny that, so he picks her up and starts on his way to carry her through the woods so she doesn't step on anything sharp.

It's kind of stupid, adopting an armadillo for no reason other than 'she looked at me and made sound' but he's a big brother. He's the oldest brother, he's spent his entire life before leaving being the caretaker. Their parents just paid attention to each of them equally and it didn't feel like enough, so he decided to start taking care of his little brothers too. Packing lunches, doing laundry, just being as good a brother as he could be before the band started.

And now it's been four years since he left, he's twenty one and he's probably going a little bit crazy with the isolation. Just a little bit nutty, a minuscule amount of absurd with how much he hasn't interacted with anyone or anything in years. Maybe that's why he's picking up this little creature and carrying her around like she's his little sister. He needs a placeholder to fill that void of a little creature in his life, that'll fend off the depression if nothing else.

"I'm gonna call you Rhonda," John stated as he placed her down on a log and started on foraging on some small twigs and slightly larger rocks for a fire pit.

Rhonda just chirps in response.

-/-/-/-

"I think it's a big one!" There's a laugh on his voice as reels in dinner for the night. It fights, thrashing and kicking up a massive splash of water every which way.

Rhonda is quick to amble over and bite the back of his vest tugging him just a bit whenever he lurches forward. Step by step she slowly pulls him back while keeping the cord from snapping with the tautness of it.

"Thanks girl, I'll save you the liver," John promises, it elicits a purring chirrup from Rhonda. He yanks the rod one last time and the fish is in the air, falling down to the ground in seconds, "Hold it down for me."

The armadillo does as told, pressing one paw on the tail fin to keep it down despite it's writhing. She bats it once or twice with her other paw while John grabs his knife, although it's more of a cutlass compared to the size of his body. He drives it through the eye and holds it until the fish stops moving, Rhonda steps back, resting on hind legs as John works.

He works smoothly really, digging the tip of the knife into the tender underbelly of the fish and running it up to the base of the jaw. Blood is minimal, but it still drips from the frayed flesh as he pops on his goggles. He takes a deep breath before diving into the complete and utter darkness. It's dripping with whatever rests inside of a fish's organ cavity and it used to make him feel like vomiting, but that was a long time ago, back when he could still carry Rhonda in his arms.

It's a pulsing and oozing mess, but he persists, cutting the cords and just hauling them out like they're anything but organs. He takes extra care with the liver and tosses it to Rhonda specifically before sliding out and moving onto cutting off the head.

"I hope you like that liver, this guy was living offa swamp scum," John commented as he lopped off the head, severing the spine with a practiced ease to his motions.

He's twenty seven now, ten years into his isolated life in the mountains and the forests and the swamps. He doesn't know how much longer he's gonna stay out there for either, he's probably a freak to the average Troll society now. He's happy here anyways. He has Rhonda, he has his sword, he has a group photo of him and his brothers before everything went wrong.

He's absolutely odd these days, positively so, talking a shocking amount of thoughts that enter his head. Eating whatever plants don't look poisonous and having Rhonda hit him with those defibrillator paws if he passes out from said plant. Cutting open giant fish and other assorted creatures that he comes across. He can store most of his stuff inside of Rhonda anyways, he could sleep in her if he wanted too, but the nights are never cold enough he has to leave her alone at night.

"Hey girl, can you get a fire going for me?" He asked rather loudly as he worked on trying to wedge some of the bones from delicate fish flesh. It was a tedious process but he'd rather do so than risk Rhonda choking on some bones.

There's a loud rumbling purr before Rhonda walks off to get some sticks.

-/-/-/-

It's a bad night, age thirty and he's spending another night laying awake thinking of his brothers and he left them. He thought he dropped this habit on his sweet, sweet twenty sixth birthday where he found an abandoned barrel of lager. He drank himself into a waking coma that night and came too about a week later, semi naked and covered in tinsel and hay. He still shudders to learn where that tinsel came from, but even more so about where the fuck the hay came from.

He's sleeping inside of Rhonda that night, the cold bite of winter air too much for him to bear. He's stuck staring at the ceiling with his few mementos of what his brothers were lay beside him plastered to a wall. He knows they've changed by now, for fucks sake, he's changed, albeit, probably for the worse considering how feral he is. He eats meat, he's always on the run from some monster, he talks to his armadillo van, he definitely wouldn't be able to just assimilate back into society.

John heaves a sigh, tears are hot on his face and his body shudders as he exhales. He misses his brothers. He misses the nights he'd spend falling asleep nestled against Spruce cause he stressed too hard over the song line ups, or he worried too much about his brothers in one way or another. He misses having Floyd there to try and calm down, he regrets not listening to his younger brothers worries and soothing words. He misses all the jokes and the choreography that Clay would carefully craft for them, he misses their secret handshake. He misses Spruce, he misses Floyd, he misses Clay, he (somewhat) misses Branch.

He doubts they miss him, he broke the one law of eldest sibling: never leave you baby brothers. He shattered it, he ran off to the mountains and he's been in said mountain for thirteen years hiding and scavenging. He left, he abandoned them to go be 'brolone' and he's experiencing a intense wave of regret again when he was sure he was over it.

"This is fucking stupid,"

He's an idiot, he thought he'd be fine alone. He adopted an armadillo, he killed her parents, her siblings, he killed all of them and took her in to replace his brothers. He can't go alone, he's not built like that. There's no more stress to keep all of his pieces together, he's gotten so comfortable in the mountains the wilderness fear has gone down too much to act as a substitute.

John just rolls onto his side, away from where his few memorabilia of his brothers exist. Out of side out of mind. He's crying because he lost his favorite vest to the woods, not because he lost his brothers due to his own hubris. Definitely not, and maybe if he tells himself that lie enough times he'll believe it.

[felixravinstills]

hello it’s me again!! i just read your latest fic (obsessed) and it’s got me thinking about Diana and Alma Coin. i was wondering if you had any thoughts or headcanons about them and their relationship that you’d be willing to share?

(the fic mentioned in ask. the fic people should read before that one.)

Hello!!! Always excited to hear from you! Also for everyone who doesn't read my fics, please note that the Diana here refers to my OC, Diana Ravinstill, not Diana Ring (although she is named after her). She's Felix, Artemisia (my other OC), and Festus' daughter, (Biologically she's Felix's and Artemisia, and they're in a throuple with Festus who co-parents her).

I think I mention this briefly in All That You Can Do, but these two definitely connect over grief. Coin loses a daughter and a husband before the events of Mockingjay and her life's probably been defined by all the limitations of living underground to escape the Capitol while Diana's life is also just equally defined by things and people she's lost.

They're both weirdly comfortable with how unsure they are of each other's genuine feelings/attraction to the other. There's always this element of Diana being a major source of the funds for the Rebellion while Coin is obviously Thirteen's president and has more political power than Diana. They both need each other to ensure their own power, they're both using each other a little bit, and somehow that gives them comfort. I think it stops them from thinking their relationship is too real or serious.

Going off that point, I imagine Coin is reluctant to see herself in a serious relationship because of having lost her husband and daughter and the pain of that while Diana saw what her parents' deaths had on each of them and entertaining a serious romantic entanglement would mean (to her) that she's liable to be hurt and fall apart in the same way

Of course, Coin dies and in any world except All That You Can Do, Diana's first reaction is 'well, of course, this happens.' I think after all the loss in her life. She'd just think it was the cherry on top of the cake that as soon as she gets the revenge she's spent nearly half a century waiting for, the woman she's been seeing gets assassinated.

Since Diana's personaliy/behavior changes a bit depending on what specifically happens with her parents. Close Your Eyes! Diana imitates more of Festus' old casual and laidback demeanor to hid her hurt, and I think that means that she and Coin are closer to the bickering dynamic of Festus and Felix which these women transform into something almost antagonistic while It's Still You! Diana leans into her more into a genuine personality that engages with issues that Coin might be having so in a funny coincidence the dynamic becomes more Artemisia and Felix.

(The fact that Felix ends up being the Coin parallel is alarming to me, resident Felix enjoyer who occasionally worries that my version of him will stray so far into the morally questionable that only I'll be able to love him... <- part of that could actually be a bad summary for It's Still You)

And also because I apparently love giving characters the hardest dynamic to explain ever (and I've mentioned this in at least one Author's Note), but I can imagine a throuple situation with Diana, Coin and Plutarch could exist, but Diana and Plutarch aren't actually involved with one another, because I headcanon (or is it just canon cuz she's my OC?) that Diana is a lesbian. (Honestly, idk if I'll ever make this in-text canon in one of my fics, but thinking about the absolute mess that this would make Thirteen's government in Mockingjay makes me laugh. Soap opera-level drama happening just outside Katniss' view.)

Okay, this got pretty long lol! I love the random curveball that I had to throw at the end.

This was genuinely a very fun ask to answer, because I don't think many of these details will ever make it to an actual fic (although who knows?)! And surprised and delighted that someone wanted to know more about Diana and Coin's situationship.

[amielbjacobs]

Happy STS! What is your character’s living situation like? Do they live in a house/apartment/boarding house/castle? How neat do they keep it and why? What sort of vibes does their home have? Share as much detail as you like for as many characters as you want!

Vyacheslav Mirsky & Nadezhda Mirskaya - As of the events of Spymaster, the Mirskys have recently moved into an apartment in West Germany to work at the newly opened Soviet embassy in Bonn. Because of general 1950s sexist ideas about the wife being the one who takes care of the house and because of Vyacheslav's general retreat from all aspects of married life, most of the decor was left up to Nadia's discretion.* Nadia is thrifty, so I would imagine that a lot of the furniture depends on what was cheapest and quickest to get when they arrived in Bonn. She also likes to hang up mushroom identification charts because she loves mushroom hunting.

The one room Vyacheslav has claimed for himself is his "study". Nadia is aware, although neither of them have ever said it out loud, that she is not allowed into this room. Probably if she went in, Vyacheslav wouldn't say anything, just look uncomfortable. But she's never tried. Neither of them are eager to test the boundaries of their weird awkward silence.

The study isn't really a study; it was probably, like, a large broom closet or something of the nature before Vycheslav crammed a tiny desk and a chair into it. He keeps some of his books here, and mostly he shuts himself into it and writes, and then burns what he's written in his ash tray.

* Vyacheslav will insist to the last that he believes in the equality of the sexes as a tenant of Communism, but they're still the kind of m/f couple where things don't get done unless she either does it or tells him to do so. I will say, in his defense, that if she ever did feel able to ask him to do his half of the housework and so on, he would probably rise to the occasion, but he is so distant and weird to her that she never really feels comfortable discussing that with him.

Eugene Wallace - Wallace lives in a small 2 room flat in Bonn, somewhat away from where the other American diplomats live because he speaks very good German and isn't psyched about living packed in with all his coworkers next door. (This is, of course, also convenient for a secret love affair with a Russian spy . . . )

It's kind of a mess because he moved in recently. A lot of used furniture, some of which he's tried to repair or cover up damage on, a lot of boxes of books. Even if he were fully moved in, there'd probably always be books lying around the place. It's cluttered, a little worn, but cozy. He likes the color light blue, generally light colors.

His bedroom has a window that looks out onto the street, and there's a tree growing up next to it.

Honestly, I should boot up the Sims and model their houses, that would be fun.

Thanks for sending this, Moshke!