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gotranting · 6 months ago

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The push - Remus Lupin x female reader

I want to keep my stories on one blog. This is the same story as from my main tumblr, in case you come across it again.

The idea is...imagine Remus witnessing that your patronus has changed its form.

I'm missing older Remus stories, and I need to scroll way down to find them. Tumblr refreshes every so often and brings me to the first post. So I had enough and wrote a few things. Once again, maybe someone will like it...enjoy if you do <3. I plan on making a part two (one day...), and we'll see how that goes.

There are no warnings, except a larger age gap.

Imagine Remus seeing that your patronus has changed its shape. You were surprised as well. Whatever has been going on between you two was never given a name other than friendship. A denial of feelings is what I would call it.

For Remus it was also a feeling of not being enough for you. Of being too old for you. What could he possibly give you, he thought. Living from one paycheck to another? Never knowing where you will live next month? Having to suffer all sorts of slurs and insults once people found out he was the creature you chose as your partner? You had a life in front of you. He would not let you waste it.

And yourself? Apparently you were both presuming how the other would react without even asking for the other's opinion. There was a different pattern of thought in your mind, Of course you would not allow him to settle for you. Remus could do better than that. What could you possibly offer him? See, you believed that all your conversations were on surface level (they were not). You thought that once he would try to get to know you on a deeper level...he would find nothing there (Sirius teased him over how enamoured he looked every time you spoke). You did not see much worth in yourself at all. Oh, yes you hid that well. But, if you saw no worth in yourself, how could you possibly believe anyone else would find any. Remus would have spent hours proving you wrong if he knew. Just as you would spend hours proving him wrong.

There was another problem. To be with him would require of you to open up. And that thought alone frightened you. Yes, you two might have spent hours talking about everything. Or nothing sometimes. So, it is strange that it suddenly became something to fear. But perhaps for many it is not strange at all. Anyhow. If you suffered with such thoughts, why would you put Remus through all of that as well? He deserved someone better for himself.

Strange how similar you both were in that regard.

Well, apparently denial of feelings is how it would be between the two. Without a push, nothing would happen except longing gazes, and too long embraces when one came back safe from a mission. Or throwing oneself in front of the other to defend them against a dozen of dementors. It was the strongest patronus you ever casted. A bear that tore down every dementor which tried to get to Remus. Some got to you. Not many. But at least, Remus was safe.

As for that push - Well it just so happened, there was no need for long waiting. It's strange how fate works yes? I wish Umbridge had nothing to do to contribute to this, but sadly she did in a way. After coming to Hogwarts, she did a marvelous job at teaching the students absolutely nothing. With Voldemort returning, the students were vulnerable if there was no one to teach them how to properly defend themselves. Harry, Ron and Hermione had a brilliant idea. Dumbledore's army. Not everyone believed the Ministry's lies. Soon there was quite a few students joining the initiative.

All in all they planned it quite well. But it was always good to get a second opinion. So, when Harry came to the Grimmauld place, it only felt right to ask the three residents of the house for assistance. Sirius was there constantly. He didn't need any convincing. Spending time with Harry, breaking some school rules, aiding in fighting Voldemort...and getting to call Umbridge a cunt as much as he liked. ...He would have done so regardless. But still.

Remus was there at the insistence of Sirius. The last few months have been difficult after his previous colleagues found out what he was. He defended himself when a hex came his way before he left that shop. See, even with witnessing that, he still thought of himself as a monster. After Sirius found out, he would have it no other way than Remus staying with him. And if the previous coworker somehow got too ill from eating one of Fred and George's experiments well...the twins left their things around constantly. It was an honest accident.

The girl? Well, she had a home of her own. Small place. Hidden. Cozy and simple. Sirius insisted here as well. She didn't know why exactly. And she couldn't be at Grimmauld all the time. But she did stop by as often as she could. After finding out about the hexing, it was more than other members of the Order. Good thing that Sirius handled it (it was an accident I swear), or she would have used something far more darker.

With Harry's arrival it was the four of them in the house. Planning which spells would be the most useful ones to teach. Considering they had cleaned the attic, it was as good a place as any to let Harry practice those spells with their supervision. That way he could get a better feeling on what should he pay attention to.

Spell by spell. Expelliarmus. Reducto. Stupefy. Expecto patronum. The push.

„I think that is a break for me. Anyone wants some tea?“ Sirius asked after an hour of dueling. James would be so proud of Harry. Remus was leaning back on one of the tables observing it all. Your dog was begging for food so you kept to the sidelines as well.

„I'm going back in three days. There is no time for breaks. I cannot let them down.“ Harry on the other hand was not backing down. He would not let anyone be unprepared. He would not let anyone lose a friend in front of their eyes. He needed to practice more.

„Harry, you will not be able to teach them anything if you fall unconscious from exhaustion.“

„Then I need to practice more, to endure as much as I can. The death eaters won't stop because I am tired. Voldemort will kill someone else while I am catching my breath!“

The others could only look at each other. One way or another, he would continue. With or without them. So it was decided, that while Sirius went to get tea, they'd practice something other than dueling. It was your time to step to the centre of the room. You agreed that you would cast the patronus. You would make random mistakes, which Harry would have to notice and correct properly. Remus would give him advice in case he missed something.

Considering she did well when casting a full bodied patronus, she didn't think there would be anything unexpected. First try, she moved her hand in a slightly different direction, which Harry noticed quickly. Second time, she didn't cast a powerful enough memory. Harry gave her some ideas. He would do well, they knew it. Third time, she decided to allow for some wisps to flow from the wand. Still not strong enough. Even here, Harry would give words of encouragement. She thought she saw Remus softly smiling in the corner of her eyes. She thought of that. The last time she saw him like that. It was after the Full Moon. Despite Wolfsbane, she found him pale in bed, wrapped up in blankets. With tea on his bedside table, she put a vinyl on. He mentioned he was fond of Cohen. He was a favourite of his mum's. A muggle store had that vinyl. She didn't have to think twice.

He mentioned that vinyl around six months ago.

If he had more strength in him, he'd get up and carry her with him to his bed in that moment. Nothing sexual. Just to hug her closer. To kiss her on the forehead. To nudge his nose to hers, until she gazed at him with that look. A look which left him thinking that it did not matter at all to her that he was a werewolf. Or 17 years older than her. Poor. Broken. At that moment he would know there was more to him. He'd nudge her nose once again until she blushed. Then he would press his lips to hers. And she would brush the hair away from his forehead. No, they would not let each other go. If only he had more strength. And courage.

She thought of him at that moment. At how she still managed to make him laugh to tears, even after that Full Moon. At how they both hummed to the songs. At what could be. The wisps got stronger this time. She saw the outlines of paws, only they were smaller this time. Strange. The whole bear seemed to be a bit smaller than it usually was. Remus's smile faltered, as he noticed what creature was forming in the room. The realisation was slowly dawning on her as well. It was not the bear she has come to expect, it was a wolf. She could lie to herself only so many times, but here was the proof. Right in front of him. A wolf making a circle around Harry. Coming to greet her dog. Harry was busy looking at the beautiful creature to notice two figures standing frozen in the room.

And sure, he hoped that it was him this wolf represented. She would not stop lying to herself, but she still hoped he understood now. What did each of them see though? He saw her carefree look fading. He saw her standing rigid in the centre. Was she ashamed? Angry? What if the wolf was not connected to him at all? He didn't want to meddle in her love life. If only to hide the jealousy of which he had no right to feel. What if there was someone with whom she felt as comfortable as she had with him the night that vinyl played. He had no right to wish it was him alone who would get to see her like that.

She saw him straightening up. She saw his smile fade. The clenched jaw. He was angry. A girl, barely out of Hogwarts fell in love with him. Just what he needed.

Sirius came up with tea. She was quick to apologize, saying all the practice made her a bit dizzy. Remus still stood next to the table. After a moment he excused himself as well. One could sense something went wrong.

„I suppose no one is in the mood for tea anymore. What happened here?“

„I'm not sure. The patronus appeared and right after they both left.“

A push needed to happen. However, that push can move events in any direction. Sirius had no idea what had transpired in that room. But he would do his best to find out.

#harry potter #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #older remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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styrvexxual · 1 month ago

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Han Jisung's Guide to The College Experience (CH. 1)

My child, my first ever fic, right here on Tumblr

minsung-centric (ft. a few side ships ;) )

7.3k words

Nothing 18+ here -> not sure what's happening later

college au, not quite enemies to lovers but like kinda, me projecting my hatred for college on skz

also posted on ao3 here :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/61759963/chapters/157886353

An empty stage, save for a single microphone conveniently placed center stage. Enter stage left, one Han Jisung. “College fucking sucks,” he says into the mic.

The result is a resounding agreement, applause echoing through the room. People have even started throwing flowers towards the stage (and various other items that shall remain unnamed). The aforementioned Han Jisung has never felt more seen and accomplished, this shall go down as the greatest moment in his otherwise bland, unimportant life. That is until he hears a faint booing from somewhere in the third row.

Kim Motherfucking Seungmin

Or at least, this is how it would’ve played out in said Han Jisung’s head if this situation happened. In hindsight, he realizes that might be the wrong person to play the role of his daydream arch nemesis given that Kim Seungmin usually cannot be bothered to give two shits about most things, and definitely wouldn’t attend a speech given by Jisung even if just to be a general disturbance. Changbin on the other hand, the man who lives to give Jisung the younger brother treatment and constant humiliation? Now that might be just a slight bit more realistic.

Take right now for example. Fall registration, the worst part of the year for any underclassman who wants a sliver of a chance at classes that will prove themselves useful for their degree. Chan and Changbin, two upperclassmen who have taken it upon themselves to ‘adopt’ Jisung in a sense after he was able to squeeze himself into an actually useful lower-division music production class the other two had also enrolled in last semester, filled their schedules hours ago and were able to find classes that might one day provide them with their degrees. The rest of the day proceeds as follows:

The three rented a studio space for the day to begin recording for their last final project of the year knowing that they would each have to halt the process for their brief window of an enrollment period. Going into their senior and junior year respectively, in addition to their overachiever tendencies providing them extra course credits, Chan and Changbin had prime enrollment times earlier in the morning while Jisung had to wait until the late afternoon before he could even think of opening his laptop and checking his schedule.

After hours of anxious leg shaking and tense recording sessions, Jisung found himself in front of his laptop, refreshing the page as soon as it loaded until the buttons lit up that let him enroll in his courses. As soon as his enrollment window opened, a scream that could be heard across campus regardless of the soundproof recording booth was let out.

“Waitlist? Fucking bullshit is what it is.” Jisung muttered as he found himself able to enroll in only one of the five classes he had planned on for the next semester. Tens of thousands in yearly tuition payments and he can’t even get a fucking degree? Absurd.

Luckily his friends had taught him how to make backup schedules because surely there’s no way everything he wanted to take was full, it’s not like there are that many people on this campus. Right?

Wrong. After a grand total of six separate schedules and 16 courses Jisung was even considering taking (including those horrific STEM classes the school wanted him to take to graduate thank you very much) only two other classes had spots, neither of which fell under his major. At this rate, he wasn’t even going to be allowed to come back to campus with how barren his schedule looked.

“Chat, I fear we might be cooked here,” Jisung said to no one in particular. Well, actually that’s a lie, as there are two other people in the room with Jisung, and he would very much so like them to bestow upon him their worldly advice.

“Jisung, as funny as I might find this, which mind you is incredibly hilarious, you do need to find another class to fill your schedule,” Changbin responded. As objectively right as he is, Jisung hopes all of his classes get canceled so he can feel a fraction of the stress he’s currently under.

“Have you considered sorting by classes with available spots? You might as well just take what you can get before you’re stuck with waitlists longer than the class size.” Chan adds. He’s never wronged Jisung before and he’s already under enough stress, so he can have a slightly better fate. Maybe only a class or two was canceled, or a waitlist he’ll never get off of.

In all honesty, Jisung wouldn't wish his fate upon anyone, not even Kim Seungmin. Now that he’s been brought up within the confines of Jisung’s mind palace, he wonders how enrollment went for his roommate. Probably significantly better considering he took six classes a semester his first year and the classes for his major have 200 spots compared to Jisung’s 25 spot music classes. Jisung briefly considers swapping his major to computer science, as studying classics like Seungmin is quite frankly too pretentious for him, but quickly remembers how poorly that would go for him as he had to drop his course on the subject last fall before he failed it. Surely he should’ve gotten some good karma from the computer science major he got off the comically large waitlist. Wait, that's not the point here, enrollment closes in five minutes and Jisung still doesn’t have a fourth class.

“That’s it, I’m sorting by classes with available spots and just clicking on one. As long as it doesn’t stop me to tell me my schedule conflicts it literally cannot be worse.” Jisung announces to the room. It’s not like a university campus has classes so useless this backfires on him.

“You sure about that one? I mean you could at least try to find something that fulfills a graduation requirement. I'm sure something still has space.” Jisung hears Chan ask in the background. He pays no mind to this warning and instead clicks on a random class that pops up with available spots.

“There’s no way you seriously just signed yourself up for a two-hour 8 am every Monday and Wednesday. I don’t even care what that class is, you’ve just screwed yourself beyond belief here kid.” Changbin says, cut off only by his laughter. Jisung doesn’t really find this situation humorous, but to each their own he supposes.

With that, the enrollment window closes and all Jisung is left with is 4 class codes and the worst schedule of his college years. How can someone end up with an 8 am every day of the week but also an 8 pm? Jisung closes the tab his schedule is on, refusing to believe this is something that actually happened to him. Before doing so, he noticed a class code under one of his 8 am classes that wasn’t on his schedule before, CDM101, clearly the class he signed up for randomly. Surely it can’t be that hard, it’s an introductory course, and the only classes he can think of that start with C are communications and chemistry, and anything under the latter is definitely full already.

The topic of registration is nothing but a stray thought in the back of Jisung’s mind, batted away like a cat toy. He’s enrolled in four classes, he won’t be kicked out of school, and at least something there will be going towards his degree. As the three begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel on their final project, they quickly wrap up their recording and agree to finish editing on their own and grab dinner instead as they have very little left. Three burnt-out college students versus a single final project for their music production class, who will win? Let the records state that although it was a concerningly close fight, the students did in fact win, and they all walked away with an A on their transcript.

As the three boys leave the restaurant, significantly more optimistic than they were walking into the studio (save for one Han Jisung), a lull in the conversation occurs and Chan just can’t seem to help himself because he immediately turns to Jisung and asks, “Are you sure you’ll be okay in your classes? You can always just talk to an advisor, that’s literally what they’re paid to do. We both know you don’t do well with mornings and I don’t want to see your grades slip just because you didn’t want to get up to go to class.”

Chan truly is nothing if not a worrying mother at heart. Jisung would find it endearing if it wasn’t contributing to his already soured mood over his classes. Yes his schedule sucks, and yes he will be immediately calling his parents once he gets back to his dorm to cry about it, but nobody needs to know that, especially his friends.

“While I appreciate the concern, it was truly never that deep, I’ll be fine,” Jisung responds, before fully turning to Chan to add on, “and everyone knows advisors are actually paid to be a pain in your ass and make sure you enroll in even less than if you just did it yourself.”

Yes, Jisung might be a little frustrated with his schedule, but he’s dealt with worse classes. Like that computer science class, but at least he could drop that one. So he signed up for a communications class, big fucking deal. He’ll just show up to the first lecture, find out if attendance is mandatory, and never show up again if it’s not. Communications classes are easy, he knows how to talk to people, and surely that’s what he signed up for, right?

Right?

——————------------------------

Wrong.

Again, seriously? Jisung wonders how many times he’ll be wrong before he gets something right because it’s apparently more than two. Well, it’s a lot more than two given his track record but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that Jisung needs to find his classes, starting with his Monday 8 am communications class. He left his dorm around 7:30 this morning, as he was positive this was all the time he needed to reach the mystery class, and right he was. Gold star for Jisung everybody! He should throw a party, maybe even invite his new communications professor.

Now Jisung knows some friends of friends who have taken a communications class or two for an easy A, so he knows the building this class is in is definitely not the communications building. He’s almost positive that the building in question is on the other side of campus, not two buildings away from the music building over by where the art classes are held. He also knows that classes tend to stick within the building of their department as to avoid confusion. So the question remains: What the fuck did Jisung sign up for last spring?

A dance class. A fucking contemporary dance class. It couldn’t have just been a communications class, a history of dance class, or even any other style of dance. It just had to be something that requires a genuine understanding of movement and a body with the capacity to do things no human should be able to do. It should be, in theory, or at least according to the syllabus and Han Jisung’s limited knowledge of the dance department, an easy A just like it would’ve been if he actually signed up for a communications class. However, there’s one bright, shining error in his brilliant plan to get an A.

Mandatory Attendance.

“Showing up is half the battle my ass,” Jisung mutters as he reviews the syllabus the professor had been handing out at the door. He hopes she didn’t hear him as that could possibly win for the worst first impression of Jisung’s college career.

Yes the final for this class is a paper, and yes he has maybe three homework assignments the entire quarter; but seriously, how hard is it to make a syllabus where attendance isn’t 50% of your final grade? At least in other mandatory attendance classes, the portion of your grade that attendance counts for tends to be insignificant enough that you could still get an A while missing a good portion of lectures so long as you did well on the exams. Jisung begins weighing the possibility of dropping out of college entirely and living off of Changbin’s trust fund when the door closes, signifying what is usually the beginning of class, but who fucking knows at this point, this is uncharted territory here.

“Welcome to beginning contemporary dance, I’ll be your professor for this semester.” A voice cuts through Jisung’s pessimistic stream of consciousness, “As stated in the syllabus, you will have a teaching assistant who will be attending class alongside you. Unfortunately, he couldn’t attend class today due to a conflict in scheduling within the department, but know that you have much to learn from him”

The professor continues to drone on about how despite the class being made for beginners, she expects effort and attention from all students regardless of their dance background, or lack thereof (definitely a pointed comment thank you very much); and then a few other things regarding the attendance policies and grading structure. Jisung, however, is paying shit attention to this little speech and hasn’t been since the professor mentioned a teaching assistant. He? Now don’t get it twisted, Jisung is in no position to be prejudiced. In fact, it’ll be great to have some boy doing spins around him for two hours at a time. Jisung’s never been able to focus too well in class without something to look at, so surely this will motivate him to show up at 8 am twice a week for the next 18 weeks. On second thought, it probably won’t, but it doesn’t hurt to hope.

Jisung’s thoughts are once again interrupted by the professor, this time addressing him directly. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” He asks, trying (and failing) to make himself not look like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“We’re doing introductions. Just tell the class your name, year, major, and a fun fact. Nothing too difficult, that comes later of course.” the professor tells him, adding a seemingly ominous wink to the end of her sentence.

Well, that’s easy, the same shit you do in every class, surely this sentiment will remain similar for the remainder of the semester. Jisung thinks for a second before responding with, “Hi everyone, I’m Jisung, I’m a second-year music major, and I’ve never danced before nor wanted to in my entire life.”

“Thank you for participating Jisung, and I sincerely hope this class can change your views on dance.” With the passive-aggressive comment from his professor out of the way, Jisung resumes his stream of consciousness. Today’s class seems to be largely focused on getting to know each other, which he does so on autopilot, listening but never taking in the words of his peers.

For once, the universe decided to work in Jisung’s favor, and class got out early, meaning he had an extra hour to spend before his 8 pm lecture that night that he didn’t really need but still liked having regardless. He found himself at the campus coffee shop he frequented his freshman year in the hopes of finishing those pesky homework assignments he was supposed to do before classes started. Say what you want, but summer homework is egregious and should be banned regardless of the subject. At long last, it was 8 pm, and time for a class that Jisung actually gave a fuck about, his sole music-related class; which turned out to be a history class? Look, registration was rough, and if he needs it to graduate, then by god Jisung is going to get that snoozefest done.

Luckily the class is one he shares with his friends, so really it could have been worse. You know, like the rest of his schedule. Once he reached the classroom, he noticed Chan and Changbin waving him over, having saved him a seat. Jisung knew what they wanted to hear, and briefly yet seriously contemplated running the other direction and taking the inevitable hit to his grade that ditching class would leave him with. Despite all this, he moves to sit between his friends, anticipating the immediate badgering and questioning, but not quite moving to deflect. Look, he just needs to complain, like seriously who makes an 8 am mandatory — attendance being half your grade at that? He pauses for a second and proceeds to voice this thought to his peers.

“You mean to tell me you’ve somehow found an introductory communications class at 8 am that lasts two hours, mind you, that’s completely mandatory and worth half your grade just to show up?” Changbin explains, looking a little too enthused by Jisung’s suffering.

“Nah dude, that’s the worst part, it’s not even a communications class,” Jisung responds. “It’s a fucking dance class. I have to participate and shit, can’t even slack off in the corner of a lecture hall.”

“You know, most people go to class to learn,” Chan adds. “It only makes sense that would be applied to more practical classes.” Curse him and his realistic worldview, and sue Jisung for using lectures to online shop and play 2048, it’s not like they aren’t recorded and uploaded anyway.

Upon giving his two cents, which are somehow worth more than most people’s despite still being two cents, Chan looks away to pay attention to the lecture. Jisung can’t help but thank him in his head. Not because he’s no longer grilling him, but because he knows Changbin won’t let up and neither of them will take a single note tonight.

“So what do you even do in that class? With your two left feet, I can’t foresee anything about this going well.” Changbin leans over to whisper.

“Bro, why are you acting like I know? All I remember from whatever that class was is that some dude is gonna come in and TA for us.” Jisung thinks for a second and adds, “I’ll probably just make friends with him and hope he can save my grade.”

“Your TAs a guy?”

“Yeah dude, didn’t realize you of all people would take offense to that. Isn’t your boyfriend literally a dance major?”

“Not where I was going with that dumbass. Was just gonna say I know a guy who’s TAing a dance class this semester.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Says the one who didn’t even know he was in a dance class until this morning.”

“Whatever dude, so what should I know about this mysterious TA guy? The prof kept hyping him up and shit, no way he’s that good?”

“I'm not telling you shit with that attitude,” Changbin says, finishing their gossip session before it could start. “Pay attention, according to what I just heard you need to if you want to pass any of your classes this semester.”

With that, Jisung turned back to the professor at the front of the room. Paying attention in a class where all of the lecture videos get sent to him is pointless, Jisung thinks as he opens 2048 on his computer, a game already in progress.

Tuesday went by in a blur, two general education classes Jisung will be doing the bare minimum for because no hiring manager in the history of ever is going to give a single shit that someone working in music production got a C- in their genetics class they were forced to take sophomore year. It was once Wednesday hit the semester began to immediately worsen, which Jisung didn’t even think was possible. Look, the 8 am classes every day are really starting to get to him, especially when paired with a class twelve hours later.

So he overslept and missed his dance class, no biggie, surely there’s a policy that says he can miss a few classes right? Every class has those, it’s like a fail-safe for when overworked college students inevitably find themselves too sick (or lazy, as seen here) so Jisung will be fine.

Or not. Seriously, one excused absence for an entire semester? That’s a little absurd, even for a dance class. Oh well, he’ll just have to go to all of the classes in the future if he wants a good grade. Better hope he doesn’t find himself catching every disease ever like all college kids do in the fall.

Thursday followed as per the Tuesday schedule, and Friday was empty save for a morning discussion class Jisung would rather dunk his socks in cereal and suck the milk out of than attend despite participation being a significant enough portion of his grade. Aside from the utter failure that has been trying to attend his dance class, Jisung was sure he could turn the semester around and make it into something bearable. Make lemons out of lemonade or whatever old people say when they don’t want you to believe it’s okay to be frustrated.

——————------------------------

Surely after the disaster that was trying to get to all of his classes last week, Jisung could bring himself to attend his 8ams, and attend his 8ams he did. Walking into the dance building at 7:55 am (see Changbin, not that hard) Jisung noticed a boy about his age approaching him. He takes a moment to think back to last week, trying to recall a face, name, or anything to help him remember this boy who clearly knows him. His strikingly blonde hair and round features allowed him to stand out amongst the crowd, and surely Jisung would remember meeting someone as unique as him. He comes up with nothing, and takes the last few seconds to pray that they don’t actually know each other and he isn’t about to severely offend someone.

“Where were you on Wednesday?” the boy asks, “It kinda sucks being the only guy in this class, well except for the TA I guess.”

“I’m really sorry but, do we know each other?” Jisung responds with the only thing he’s thinking at this moment. “I don’t mean to offend you, I just do not remember a thing from the first class and I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”

“Well not yet I suppose, but that’s what this is for. Lee Felix, a second-year dance major.” The boy, Felix as he now knows, reaches his hand out, presumably for a handshake.

“Han Jisung, second-year music major. If you don’t mind me asking, why are you in a class for beginners if this is what your degree is in?” Jisung worries he’s pried a bit too much for a first-time conversation, but he really doesn’t understand why someone who loves dance enough to major in it is in a class with the likes of him.

“Don’t worry, people already questioned me about it last week, I’ll give you the run down since you weren’t there. I’m auditing the class, which means I kinda just show up when I feel like it and don’t worry about a grade.”

“Dude I wish that was me. I signed up for this class by chance after I was under the credit limit.”

“Seriously? I hate to break it to you, but you’re really in for something different if you signed up by accident. I mean, just wait until you meet the TA, he’s really gonna have it out for you if he ever hears that.”

“The TA? Don’t worry man I have that covered. All I gotta do is play nice and make friends, and he’ll help me get an A, right?”

“Wrong.” The second Jisung hears this from Felix, all he can do is put a little tally next to the chart on his brain whiteboard next to ‘wrongs’. The ‘rights’ side is regrettably empty save for when he made it to class on time (does that count?). “Don’t think I’m trying to scare you or anything, he’s not a bad guy, it’s just… he can be a little more on the serious side when it comes to dance. I mean I’m sure you get it, being in the arts and all that.”

“Whatever man, just wait. I’ve got this in the bag already.” Jisung says as they enter the studio together. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots something, or someone that is, that definitely wasn’t there last week. He likes to think he’d remember seeing someone like him. He also believes he’d remember every single girl in that class (which mind you, is everyone with the exception of Jisung and Felix) shamelessly staring the same guy down as if he was the last croissant at that trendy bakery down the street from Chan’s apartment. It makes something akin to jealousy shoot down Jisung’s spine and into his fingertips. Look, it’s not what you think it is, he doesn’t even like girls like that, but he sincerely doubts Mr. Twinkle Toes over there does either, he’s in a dance class for fucks sake. It’s just the whole attention thing; Jisung loves being the person in the room that people feel compelled to approach (except for when he really doesn’t), and this guy is hogging his spotlight. Jisung does the only thing he thinks can help him in this situation, and turns to Felix to ask, “Who in the everloving fuck is that?”

“Who?” He distantly hears Felix’s response over the sound of blood in his ears as he makes eye contact with the mystery man. Jisung really just thinks it’s unfair, how can someone have such an objectively perfect face, and maybe now he understands why all 20-something girls just can’t seem to look away from their classmate. His stare is piercing, almost as if he’s one of those mind readers Jisung worries about when his thoughts get a little inappropriate for the situation, and now all he can think about is if that’s exactly what’s happening right now.

Regrettably, before he can really unpack what any of that is supposed to mean, the professor walks in, and any fraction of the boy’s attention that Jisung held is immediately lost to what he thinks is a motivational speech to open the class.

“Alright everybody, today’s class will be focused on Horton Technique” the professor starts, “As a lot of you are not dancers, we will begin the class with a bit of a lecture on the history of the form. Contemporary dance is deeply rooted in the evolution of modern dance forms, so it is important we begin with these foundational techniques”

As the professor drones on about the history of modern dance, a voice in the back of Jisung’s mind reminds him that although there are no exams, the homework assignments are probably based on what she’s saying right now. He proceeds to throw that out the window and instead stares at Mr. Twinkle Toes from his place across the room. Look don’t judge the nickname, it's not like Jisung knows his real name and honestly, the nickname is kinda funny and definitely going to stick around for way too long whether or not they ever even exchange greetings.

What he finds, however, is not a sight he had been expecting. TT, as Jisung will now be taking to calling the boy in his head since Mr. Twinkle Toes is long and pretentious and must be saved exclusively for peak comedic timing, is already looking right back at him. Seriously, what is this dude's deal with Jisung? All he wanted when he signed up for a random class was some inner peace and an easy A, and now he’s not sure he’s got either of those. Unfortunately, just like every other time, Jisung has attempted to get any form of information on his mystery man, his professor has decided to stop lecturing and move on to actual dancing, causing both of their gazes to break.

This professor is really starting to get on Jisung’s nerves, can’t she see he’s on a mission here? Clearly more important than whatever the fuck Horton Technique is.

“To begin our warmup series, we will be learning a flat-back combination. This exercise engages your muscles and prepares the body for more rigorous movement” Jisung is vaguely aware of the teacher as she guides the class through the combination, focusing on keeping his head down and refusing to attract negative attention.

The teacher repeats the combination twice through movement, once verbally, and declares this enough before moving to turn on the music. Jisung can’t help but notice that Mr, Twinkle Toes seems to have taken to standing front and center of the studio. Teacher’s pet much? It’s not like he could possibly be good enough to warrant standing there in the first place. Jisung may not be a dancer, but he and Seungmin did drunkenly watch reruns of Dance Moms one night after finals, so he knows that front and center is reserved for special people who can actually dance.

Mystery Boy, as it turns out, is in fact one of those special people who can actually dance, and Jisung finds himself entranced by the way he effortlessly completes the exercise Jisung couldn’t even remember with the repetition and explanations. He suddenly finds himself grateful he’s placed himself directly behind Mystery Boy, and no it’s not because he has a good view of his ass you pervert, he’s wearing sweats anyways. Jisung learns that standing behind him does actually provide him with some knowledge as he simply repeats the movements he sees in front of him, albeit a little sloppier.

As the exercise draws to a close, and the professor moves to command the attention of the class, Jisung realizes something he had been previously ignorant of.

The music

Well, if you can even call it that. Jisung doesn’t understand how Mr. Twinkle Toes up in the front can do the exercises so flawlessly when the sound of nails on a chalkboard would be more audibly appealing than this monstrosity contained in his professor’s iPad. To each their own, he supposes, as he proceeds to figure out how to get his brain to tune out the music for the remainder of the class.

The professor leads them through a few more simple warm-up exercises in the center before announcing that they’ll be moving to the corner to try a few exercises across the floor. Jisung finds himself grateful for this, as if he ever has to do a Lateral T exercise again he might just do something drastic enough to change the trajectory of his professor’s life. He finds himself towards the end of the line the class has formed, alongside Felix, and notices that Mystery Boy has taken up a position at the end of the line. Given his assertiveness at the front of the room, and unfortunately, his ability to dance better than Jisung previously assumed, it seemed like he would be the kind of person to rush to be first in line.

Not that Jisung is complaining, this just means that he doesn’t have to embarrass himself by going after someone who actually knows what they’re doing.

The teacher then leads them through Jisung’s new least favorite exercise. The worst part? It’s not even supposed to be that hard. It’s basically a glorified walking pattern across the length of the studio, something about familiarizing yourself with the ground or whatever, and Jisung just doesn’t get it. He proceeds to share this with Felix, who goes over it with him while they wait in line, and he could kiss Felix for how he saved him from being a walking (literally) embarrassment.

Unfortunately for him, his Mystery Boy is soon after him, and he’s forced to watch the most graceful walking of his entire life. He didn’t even know walking could be so graceful before taking this class. You learn something new every day it seems. Jisung is infuriated by the boy and his strange affinity for walking, and he decides that Felix needs to hear this.

“Who the fuck does he think he is? It's enough to be that obnoxiously talented and objectively attractive, but to know it like he does too?“ Jisung whispers to Felix a little louder than expected. Before he can check if anyone heard him, he feels someone’s breath on the back of his neck, far too close for comfort.

“It’s rude to talk about people behind their backs. I guess I was wrong to assume your parents would have raised you better than that?” He hears from behind him, whispered directly in his ear.

Jisung finds himself unable to move, or speak for that matter. In a true life or death scenario (not that this isn’t), his instincts would immediately choose freeze over the much more useful fight or flight, which should worry Jisung, but he’s a little preoccupied. He says what is apparently the only thing he can think of when faced with strangers recently, which ends up being an incredibly eloquent, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Lee Minho, it’d do you well to remember that. Your TA as well, although in hindsight that part might be a bit more important” he gets in response.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I swear whatever you heard, I really didn’t mean it to be rude. I’m just struggling with the class and dealing with it in an even worse manner. But since you’re my TA, you can help me, right?” Jisung adds that last part alongside some serious puppy-dog eyes as a last-ditch attempt to make Minho believe that Jisung really is just in awe of him and not a jerk.

“Yeah, fat chance after that display. You have a far better chance of getting help from Lixie over here, it’s not like he doesn’t know the same things I do.” So that didn’t work.

“There’s really no need to get snappy Minho, I swear he didn’t mean it like that.” Felix decides to add in at that moment, and thank god Jisung has someone to come to his aid like this,” He really is just curious, he missed class last Wednesday anyways.”

“Yeah, whatever, just don’t let me catch you talking like that again. I’m not a bitch but I will take it up with the professor if you want to choose to act like a child in a college course.” Minho finishes with that, brushing past Jisung before he can even utter another apology.

The rest of class continues somewhat normally, Jisung keeps his head down and mouth shut to avoid inadvertently offending another classmate or worse, his professor. Minho seems to preen even more given that the professor is making it more and more aware that he is the TA, and incredibly talented at that. She couldn’t have done that an hour ago before Jisung was given the perfect opportunity to humiliate himself? This class keeps getting worse.

At long last, class is released, and Jisung is free to hide in his dorm for the rest of eternity out of shame. He almost makes it out of the dance building unscathed, but not before he runs into Felix waiting for a more advanced dance class after the one he shares with Jisung, who offers apologies on behalf of Minho as well as a chance for him to help Jisung better understand the class and his phone number.

Jisung really doesn’t have it in his heart to tell Felix he’s seriously considering dropping this class over how horrifically he’s embarrassed himself. He also doesn’t have it in himself to drop the class when he checks the app on his phone as he begins his walk, so he might as well accept the help where he can. He texts Felix, asking if they can meet outside of class, and heads off towards his dorm.

——————------------------------

Jisung left class that morning more confused than he’d ever been in his entire life. He likes to think of himself as a people person, even though he is one of those people who spends his solo walks and that awkward period of laying down before you fall asleep thinking of every conversation that’s ever gone wrong in his entire life. Honestly, this truly is one for the books, how was he supposed to know Mr. Twinkle Toes was his TA, and how the fuck was he supposed to know that Felix wasn’t playing about him actually giving a fuck about dance. Now Jisung gets it, he’s an artist too, it sucks to have your work devalued or seen as lesser, especially as a student. But it’s not like he even said anything rude to Minho, in fact, he was incredibly complimentary of him, so he really doesn’t understand what upset the other boy so much.

Jisung’s self-deprecating depression spiral over his stupid dance TA, who doesn’t even matter anyway like who even cares, comes to an end when he reaches his dorm and slams the front door a little harder than normal, startling his roommate. Kim Seungmin may be a little shit who makes (lovingly) snide comments towards Jisung whenever he finds the opportunity to do so, but there’s a reason Jisung chose to room with him again despite totally having a way out of doing so. Okay so he didn’t, but that doesn’t change the fact that he really does love Seungmin and appreciates his ability to stay put together when Jisung absolutely cannot.

“The fuck happened to you? I haven’t seen you this upset since spring registration.” Jisung hears Seungmin ask. Although he really isn’t in the mood to ‘talk this out’, he has to admit that Seungmin might have something interesting to provide.

“It’s just my TA for that stupid dance class, not like it’s important or anything.” Jisung responds, “He’s just so… infuriating.”

“Oh? How so?”

“We were going through class like what I assume is normal, and I went to say something about him to my friend in the class and I guess he overheard and flipped the fuck out over it.”

“Well, what did you say? If you’re talking shit about someone and they hear it’s not like they’re going to be particularly excited about that, you idiot.”

“No, I swear nothing like that! I was just upset that he was so talented and objectively attractive AND confident on top of all of that. I didn’t even know he was my TA for fucks sake” Jisung proceeds to flop across their shared couch for dramatic effect, surely Seungmin will take pity on him.

“Wait, what’s his name? I know a few dancers myself you know.” He did not, oh well. Curse Seungmin and his ability to be impartial about situations.

“I think he said it was like Lee Minho? Something like that, not much to go off, unfortunately.”

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“No what the fuck why do you need one?” Jisung feels weirdly called out by this as he does, in fact, have a photo of him. Sue him for being able to find the socials of the boy in question, not like it was that hard.

“I’ll tell you if you show me a picture of him”

“Fine.” Jisung relents, handing over his phone, opened to Minho’s Instagram account.

“Oh! I do know him, didn’t think this is who you’d be talking about though. You sure this is the right guy?”

“Absolutely. How the fuck do you know him, you literally study old books for fun and he’s a dancer”

“We grew up together dipshit, and don’t shit talk about my major. It's not like yours is anything useful either.”

He really got Jisung there. On the Minho thing, a music degree is perfectly useful, thank you very much. Unless he ever decides he wants to do something that isn’t specifically music production, but that’s a thought for another time. Back to the whole Minho Problem. That’s right, it’s become a Problem, with capitals and everything. Could Jisung tell you why he cares so much? Not at all, but that’s why he needs to get to the bottom of this.

“You know, I really didn’t expect that to be who you were talking about. As much as he was a pain in my ass growing up, being older and all that, he wasn’t outright rude” Seungmin adds, “I mean he’s kinda got the closest thing you can have to a reputation on a college campus, dude gets along with everyone.”

“You’re joking. Well clearly nobody’s taken a dance class with him before. Or even heard that he dances.”

“You do realize most of those people in your class are there for the sole purpose of taking class with him, right? The dance department shows are only as popular as they are because of him. I heard they even got more people auditioning this past week because he’s in the shows.”

Now that he mentions it, that does make a lot of sense. Jisung was wondering how it was possible for one person to attract that much attention, but if they already knew who Minho was, of course, they would be looking for him. It also makes sense as to why he might not remember Felix from the first day of classes as it sounds like auditions for the dance department’s production were why Minho couldn’t make class. Seungmin’s next statement snaps him out of his train of thought.

“You know I feel like I should be a bit more hung up on the fact that you’ve been calling my childhood friend ‘objectively attractive’ whatever the fuck that means, but I really can’t bring myself to sit with that right now.” Leave it to Seungmin to find something even less helpful to interject with.

Jisung really needs to reconsider who he seeks advice from, maybe he should talk to Felix more. He really should’ve lied about what he said about Minho, but seriously how was he supposed to know Seungmin was all buddy-buddy with him?

“Whatever man, I’m going to bed. I’ll just like avoid him for the rest of the semester or something, doesn’t affect me.” Jisung says to Seungmin, hoping it’s enough to keep his roommate from prying. “Alright? I assumed you caring enough to rant to me about it meant you’d do something about it, but that’s not on me to inspire that in you.” he hears Seungmin snark in response. So what he knew Minho or something, people change from when they’re kids.

Despite going into that conversation seeking the truth, or at least validation that Minho is totally, ultimately in the wrong here, Jisung can’t feel anything but regret for how their conversation went down this morning. Now it’s not like all of a sudden Jisung thinks what he said was wrong, he just wishes he might’ve said something different so that he wasn’t the most hated classmate of his TA. He just wants a good grade in his dance class, that’s all.

As he tosses and turns in an attempt to get some sleep before his 8 am that night, he can’t help but wonder why he cares so much about what Minho thinks of him.

Just a bit later, while far along the way to the land of dreams, Jisung blinks awake with a genius idea. You see, late at night, right when you’re about to fall asleep is the greatest time to come up with a plan. Well, not quite a plan, just a name:

Seo Changbin.

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poptropica222 · 11 days ago

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⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

(re) introduction

hello! though i believe as of right now most of you have migrated over to this account from shifttok (thank you!! so excited for this community we already have) i wanted to give you & anyone new to my shifting journey a refresh on my history with shifting/shifttok as well as discuss this new chapter which i can’t wait to begin! <3

about me:

my name is ati, i’m 22, use she/her and i’m from california.

i first learned about shifting through tiktok in october 2020 (pre-college, and now i’ve graduated, which is crazy). i had known about manifestation for longer than that, started doing research in 2019 and successfully manifested multiple things into my reality.

i began my shifttok account in 2021, and for a couple years really enjoyed discussing my shifting attempts and thoughts and desired realities. however, in 2023, without actively realizing it my shifting motivation/desire to shift left. it became a nebulous thing again instead of something i believed i could actually do. my life got a lot busier and shifting left my list of priorities. in 2024 i wanted to continue working not only towards shifting but on my spirituality and connection to myself & the universe but never made genuine effort. in 2025 i’d really like to change that.

i decided last year i would no longer be sharing my shifting journey on tiktok. though i’m incredibly grateful to shifttok and the community i’ve found on there, it’s no longer a place where i want share something that feels very deeply personal. the strange ban situation has only reinforced that.

while i’m still very happy to share my life and interests on tiktok and youtube, shifting is something i’m holding closer to my chest from now on. i’m a writer—it was my major, and it’s my desired career—and tumblr/blogging feels like the perfect avenue to reconnect with shifting.

what’s next:

i have not genuinely attempted to shift in a long, long time. it’s become a half-hearted desire rather than something i’m committed to. i’m changing that!

i have still been successfully manifesting but want to form a deeper connection with my spirituality through research and practice.

however, i’ve never been great at keeping my interests separate, so you won’t only be seeing shifting/manifestation content on this blog. i love to read & write & fangirl about the things i enjoy, so you’ll definitely be seeing all that too <3

my experiences so far:

my most solid experience comes earlier on in my journey 9/20/21, when my wake up scenario involved ginny weasley touching my shoulder and i felt a hand grip my shoulder (woke up immediately alone in my room) and freaked out so bad i changed my scenario. was very exciting though!

felt wind/breezes on my body and face multiple times when i was firmly under the covers, fan off, window closed.

i have smelled my scripted scents for my dr about 10-15 times: firewood when i visualize my dorm room, chocolate and male cologne when i visualize waking up on the train. (the male cologne was especially wild seeing as i lived in a studio apartment at the time that had definitely not seen the presence of a man 😭)

many lucid dreams that have as of now stopped, though i made multiple attempts in the dreams to create portals that led me to experience what tiktok termed shifting “symptoms” (falling, spinning)

too many asked for and fulfilled signs from the universe to count, including one that happened just a couple weeks ago (seeing a barn owl in person, very very rare for me, which i asked the universe for as a sign in 2021).

my dr’s:

𖤓 harry potter, golden trio era

my first and oldest dr, though it’s gone through many changes! my desire for this dr got a bit oversaturated, but it holds a special place and is definitely somewhere i still want to go.

𖤓 DC, gotham city, batfamily

the second script i ever made and one that is by now equal with my golden trio dr. i’m a big batman fan and this one is more often than not nowadays the one i’m focused on shifting to.

𖤓 percy jackson, arcane, voltron

these ones don’t stick in my brain the way my first two do, and i’ve never tried shifting to any of them, though i want to!

questions/topics i hope to explore:

there’s definitely a disconnect between how i view manifestation and how i view shifting that i’m trying to bridge. even though i’ve applied my successful manifestation techniques to shifting, something doesn’t seem to make sense in my subconscious.

i have a massive fear of being out of control, both physically and mentally. i won’t strap myself in to a rollercoaster and i won’t even smoke because the sensation that i am not fully in control of my body/mind causes me immense panic even if it’s not outwardly true. it’s why i stop so many of my shifting attempts and why lucid dreaming has offered me the most success. i’m trying to get over this and embrace letting go/releasing myself to what’s happening. trying to let go of self sabotage as a whole, honestly.

MEDITATION !!! i had a great run with it but have not experienced a truly peaceful mediative session in a looong time.

research on quantum jumping and scientific perspectives on the multiverse. i personally am not too bothered on defining what shifting is—whether it’s contained to your consciousness or traveling the multiverse—but i love research and am eager to learn more about it.

that’s all for now!!

i am so very excited for this new chapter. it’s been five years since i started and i’ve grown so much and learned a lot about myself and the world. i can’t wait to get back into this with you. thank you for reading and thank you for being here!

other platforms you can find me:

instagram: atiragali & littleepilogues

youtube: ati gali

substack: substack.com/atiragali

spotify: ati.g

#reality shifting #shiftblr #manifesting #personal

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illwynd · 7 days ago

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blanket-tagged by @angrymadsygin :D

Last song: The Dark Morris Tune by Steeleye Span was playing when I started typing, so there you go. (Now it's Tom Lehrer's Elements Song. Life is like my mp3 player on shuffle. You never know what you're gonna get.)

Favorite color: Green, black, marigold

Last book: Ella Minnow Pea, which I'd picked up a while back from some tumblr rec, and I liked it a lot! The constraint is very well done, even though I saw the punchline coming a mile away. The way the story uses the constraint is even more impressive. The plot is a little too timely. Actually kinda gave me the heebie-jeebies reading it late at night.

Last film: Oh man, it's been a couple weeks? But I rewatched Heavy Trip after realizing that I somehow missed when the sequel came out last year. I have yet to watch the sequel (waiting till the movie hangout friends are free) but had to refresh my memory in preparation.

Last game: Not a gamer... I guess Duolingo is so gamified, maybe that counts?

Last show: The Netflix Decameron series. Which, yes, OK, obviously it strays wildly from the source to the point where it's basically just been waved in the general direction of Boccaccio in a few places. But with that caveat, I found it super fun, with unexpectedly charming characters. It also cracked me up that it was the first time I can recall any show or movie using a Type O Negative song in the soundtrack. And using it extremely fittingly.

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: Why not all three? I guess lately I have been craving licorice a lot so I'll say sweet, but it changes from day to day.

Relationship: Dating my bestie <3

Last internet search: Oh gosh. It was for fic purposes, OK? Don't judge me. I had to google "when does the penis stop growing" to make sure my recollection was correct I SAID DON'T JUDGE ME. why couldn't it have been something about my new sprang hobby. or a boring thesaurus search or checking whether more rain is coming. anything but the dick puberty question.

Tagging: if you see this and feel like doing a meme, I tag you :P

#i guess we do a meme #bonus points if you don't try to guess what fic that was for

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mazzystar24 · 10 months ago

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OMG i still feel like I'm in a fever dream. I keep refreshing tumblr just to make sure that it HAPPENED.

We've been waiting for this for so long, i can't believe that they made Buck Bi!! Also here is the thing i want Buddie to happen and I am a hundred percent sure that it's happening (i don't know why people are thinking that it's not like???) the way i could see this going down is buck and tommy exploring their relationship and Buck beginning to question more and more things such as his relationship with Eddie. I WANT and him and Tommy to be in a relationship for a while (because they're actually pretty cute) and eddie pining. tommy will be the catalyst for Buddie.

Also: Oliver stark literally said, Buck has a crush, gets the person (exactly what happened with tommy) and that he has to work for his relationship to work and ryan saying "closer than ever??"

I also hate the fact that so people are mad and hating on the actors , that it wasn't with Eddie. Like of course a Buddie conformation would've been great, but we all knew that that wasn't gonna happen in this episode? We got FUCKING BI BUCK !!! Let's just celebrate this and just watch this beautiful story unfold. I really love reading your prediction and your positivity, please continue with that !!!

What do you think is going to happen in the next episodes? Sorry for the long ask!!

Sameee like I keep trying to be normal then I REMEMBER I’m like wow I didnt hallucinate that??

Exactly like they flat out called Tommy a plot device, confirmed he’s here for a little bit and that it’s a fling, so enjoy it as much as you want to while it’s here but don’t lose hope for buddie people? like legit this is the biggest confirmation buddie is on the horizon

YES THE INTERVIEWS HAVE BEEN REALLY FEEDING INTO MY DELUSION

Like let’s not forget Ryan saying they’re trying to give the people what they want🫡and that they are closer than ever - like legit he has no reason to say this in the same season buck realises he’s bi unless something BIG is gonna happen for buddie (maybe not full canon but vibes???)

Anyone hating on the actors can legit fight me.

Oliver and Ryan have been such troopers for the fandom and Oliver now with this storyline you can tell how much he genuinely loves buck and like understands him as a character but also how to give this storyline what it deserves. Like Oliver has been endlessly respectful to the fandom too like he’s been making sure that he doesn’t get peoples hopes up while also trying to play buck in a way that is true to the character. Like did you guys see his message to the fans? Or his interview talking about how he was gonna actively play buck as bi this season as much as he can even before he got told abt the kiss. Like that man hasnt just been supportive of the fandom he’s been an advocate for us and for buck which is such a wonderful thing.

Also yeah it wasn’t Eddie but do people realise that it’s VERY hard to write an up to now presumed straight character’s self discovery in their 30s LET ALONE TWO?? Like Tim found the easiest way to set the scene for the new audience and the GA who won’t have picked up on early seasons undertone and the little things planted throughout and while I would’ve loved buddie without the middleman I completely understand why they did it this way and I’ll enjoy seeing it unfold

And YES EXACTLY BI BUCK like that alone is a MASSIVE win like we are getting such rare bi rep of not only a guy in a very “macho” job and a womaniser type character BUT ALSO a person figuring stuff out in their 30s not in a repressed full of sex shame and guilt way but in a they genuinely just never explored that side of them!! Like that’s so huge we can talk for hours about how many queer rep stories are just plain depressing but this one is so authentic while also being quite light and sweet

Also aww thanks I genuinely love these asks sm (me? In love with everyone who sends me an ask? More likely than you think🤭🤭🤭)

Also omg I’m sorry this is so long like I spent most of this talking about everything except your question😭😭

Okay so predictions:

So we know that Buck is gonna tell some people and some will be surprised some not so much and some will be like it’s about damn time, my bets are:

chimney- surprised but maybe not through insider info (Maddie)

Maddie- KNOWS HAS KNOWN but the only shocker for her is that it wasn’t Eddie like I can imagine the confused and so tired face rn, I think she probs has either thought he knew or knew he didn’t and just was giving him the time and dropping as many hints as she can in the meanwhile

Bobby- supportive father icon, KNOWS (and while he also I fully believe is the buddie captain as well he will play it a little closer to vest if you get what I mean- but inside he’s going insane and his eye is twitching because he poached Eddie for his dumb bi son only for them to ACT married for six seasons and go to him for dating advice abt other people constantly and now that his son is a man kisser it’s not the man Bobby was hoping for😔 pray for him y’all)

Hen- she’s the it’s about damn time response

Athena- also might be the it’s about damn time response

Ravi- in a permanent state of confusion- not about this he’s just confused always (also still fully convinced the poor guy thought buddie had been married cos that headcanon is endlessly amusing to me)

Now for actual plot I think that like the date is low-key a train wreck after the Eddie and Marisol interruption and that either we get a chenford-like double date or we just have a brief intereuption from Eddie and that’s a minor thing and like it’s buck admitting it’s his first date with a guy who hates throws a lot of questions in the air because Tommys reaction was a bit 👀 like I think it’s more or less confirmed that Tommy was repressed for a while when working with captain dickhead so maybe he’s like gonna be taking a step back cos he thinks buck needs more time to like explore this part of himself (but I hate that trope so hoping not) or maybe we get the buddie shipper daydream and Tommy is like more aware of buddie than buddie are and he either says that to buck as the reasoning but buck doesn’t tell Eddie that OR he says something cryptic about it to buck and buck doesn’t fully understand and he’s like you will eventually👀👀👀 (I need a lobotomy yes the delusions are a part of me now)

I hope that Marisol gets the fuck out right about now but I say that every episode 🫡 (edy’s face and voice make me wanna scream I hate her homophobic, transphobic ass sm)

Anyways I’m gonna shut up now bye love ya thank ya and sorry 🫡🫡

#911 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc #911 fox #evan buck buckley #911onfox #911 spoilers #buckley diaz family #asks #asks open #send asks #answered asks

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1moreff-creator · 1 year ago

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Thank you DRDT crew!

Even though I’ve only been a fan for a short time compared to others, the amount of love I have for this series is hard to put into words. It has slowly grown to be my favorite DR-related media of all time, for a multitude of reasons. Everything about it is remarkably impressive, and I just wanted to say thank you for bringing us such an amazing experience.

I got into DRDT through Weeby Newz’ streams. I had just finished binge watching her SDRA2 streams, but this “Danganronpa Despair Time” one looked interesting. Especially because I kept seeing a video by Ocean Unknown popping up in my recommended, which said something about “David’s reveal”. So I decided to watch those vods too.

Fast-forward a binge watch, and… I was in love. It didn’t even register how attached I’d gotten to every single character, and how intrigued I was to see how everything would play out.

I absolutely wouldn’t have started a Tumblr blog without DRDT. But now I have, and it’s been one of the most fun experiences I’ve had in fandom. So, from the bottom of my heart:

Thank You!

Thank you for the dedication to do such a long and arduous project!

Thank you for the beautiful art! I’ve always been a fan of DRDT’s unique style, and those animations always take my breath away, no matter how many times I see them.

Thank you for all the amazing characters you’ve brought to life! I love them all so much, I could thank you for each one individually.

… So I will.

•Thank you for Teruko! Because she’s one of my favorite protagonists from anything ever, as her intriguing and complex personality is always a joy to analyze.

Also, uh, thank you for the prosopagnosia rep. I probably have that too, but I would have never found out without DRDT. It really explained a lot about my life, so it can be said this series has changed me forever :D

•Thank you for Xander! It’s refreshing to see a character like him being so important to the story, with so many mysteries still surrounding him!

•Thank you for Charles! Because this nerd is one of the most likable and enjoyable characters I’ve seen in any fangan.

•Thank you for Ace! Because he manages to be both very funny and very interesting and complex whenever needed.

•Thank you for Arei! It’s always nice to see a ‘mean’ character with such well thought out motivations and such drive to change.

•Thank you for Rose! Her attitude always makes me feel calm when I think about her, and I’m really interested in seeing where her character and themes are going to go.

•Thank you for Hu! Another one I’m really intrigued by, I can’t wait to know more about her!

•Thank you for Eden! For showing that even “the nice one” characters can have depth and complexity. Also representation win, the nicest girl ever is a lesbian!

•Thank you for Nico! They are so, so interesting. I feel like I’m overusing the word “intriguing”, but they really are so fun to think about. Also representation win for the enbies! Love to see it.

•Thank you for Whit! Because he’s funny, and interesting, and there’s definitely something wrong with him it’s nice to have a character that doesn’t have any big issues :D

Just kidding! The reason I love DRDT so much is that everyone gets to be a little fucked up, as a treat!

And representation win! The coolest guy ever is bisexual!

•Thank you for J! She’s funny and cool and- you guessed it, intriguing. I am running that word to the ground, but it’s true for everyone!

•Thank you thank you thank you for Veronika!!! She’s so great. She’s fantastic. She always brings a smile to my face, she’s so perfect in every way shape and form. God I love her so much, I want her to go as insane as her crazy little heart desires. And more representation! Sorta jealous of the pansexuals who got this freak (affectionate).

•Thank you for David! How can a character be so complex, that you look at Literature Girl Insane and decide it needs more literary references to properly convey them? Well, David’s the answer, and geez. He’s just so fantastically written, it’s incredible. Another big win for the bisexual community imo.

•Thank you for Levi! He’s really cool, and everything about him is interesting.

•Thank you for Arturo! Because as much of a weirdo as he can be, his entire character is just really, really interesting.

•Thank you for MonoTV! Because it’s funny and its personality has to be one of the most unique I’ve ever seen for mascot characters.

•Thank you for Mai! I mean, who?

•Thank you for Unnamed Classmate! Because they’re really nice and I can’t wait to see where they go.

And of course…

•Thank you, so much, for Min! She may very well be my favorite character from anything ever. Everything about how she’s written is phenomenal, her personality and struggles are so well developed, I could gush about her for hours! She means so much to me, I can’t properly describe how in love I am with her.

Thank you for the laughs! From the arm wrestling scene, Charles getting obliterated by MonoCredits, “milk tastes good”, Teruko tripping over Nico… Not to mention the greatest joke ever conceived: the bathroom investigation. I laughed for a solid minute or two when I first watched it, just replaying the funniest thing ever on loop.

The Q&As were also really funny, and I never really had an issue with the way the were written. I fully understand and support if you decide not to do them ever again, but they were fun while they lasted. From Nico’s favorite ice cream flavor being “the flavor”, to us forgetting people can have friends aside from Mai I mean who, all the way to that time you directed us to inform ourselves on what a pant pocket is.

Thank you for the tears! Because I still can’t watch Min’s final hug without my chest hurting, a lot. Even some of the frames from the Sleepy MV, that beautiful piece of art, get me to tear up just looking at them.

Thank you for the mysteries! From the murders which are really fun to theorize about, to everything related to Mai Akasaki and the multiple source code secrets. And don’t even get me started on the LGI MV, that insanity (affectionate) has been eating at my brain ever since it released. Everything about it is fantastic, even the things we still haven’t solved.

Where’s footnote 8, dev?! Did you put it in your pant pockets?! (/j)

Also, tangentially, thanks for introducing me to the LGI album. It’s a really good album ^^

Thank you for the research you’ve put into everything! Things like Ace’s talent causing his eating disorder are really appreciated, they show a genuine care and love for the project.

Thank you for all the little details you might think no one notices, but that we love to see! Things like the first Nonstop Debate ending in perjury, Teruko listing Xander as one of the people whose secret was unrevealed, David’s eyes being different in his genuine breakdowns to his little thing in Ep 11, strychnine not being listed with the other custom weapons because Charles made the list, the note Xander received having a proper full message which has been obscured (I can only make out “it is” at the bottom, but it’s clear the message is there), the charm on Teruko’s thing-that’s-probably-a-MonoPad-but-may-be-something-else being the same as Unnamed Classmate’s phone charm, all the interesting details in the character profiles, among so many other things.

This also includes details revealed on Q&As. Arei being ambidextrous, Teruko liking “girly” clothing, Xander having a weak sense of taste, Ace having 9 siblings, Veronika’s earring being related to a friend, all the favorite and least favorite colors and ice cream flavors. As well as the few things we know about people like Felicity and Elliot that made the community fall in love with them for no apparent reason. It just makes them all seem so human!

Thank you to the voice actors, as well! They’ve all done such an amazing job, no exceptions! In particular, Veronika’s unhinged laughter, the dialogue after Ace’s almost murder, Min’s last words, David’s speech post the “guilty as charged” incident… but it’s all fantastic, all the characters are voiced really well.

And thank you for so much more! If I kept going, this post would never end. DRDT just means more to me than any finite number of words could ever convey. Without your work, the days pass by tastelessly /ref. So, one last time for the road:

Thank you for everything!

(God I love the Sleepy MV so much. It’s so pretty!!!)

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #fanganronpa #drdtdevappreciation #drdt spoilers

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kmomof4 · 9 months ago

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Destination Dream Weddings, Driving Disasters, & Dented Derrieres: A Fic Collaboration Between @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose and @jrob64

Ready for Ch3, y'all? Here we go! In today's installment, we are heading to Savannah for sightseeing and the bachelor and bachelorette parties!!

Rating: T

Words: 3700 of approx 21k

On ao3 and ff.net

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

The second full day of their vacation dawned bright and sunny without a cloud in the sky. It was a gorgeous day, and Emma found herself looking forward to their planned excursion in Savannah. She donned a breezy, sleeveless, white sundress sprinkled with yellow sunflowers and her favorite pair of comfortable strappy white sandals.

While normally one to simply toss clothing options into her suitcase, she’d needed to put a little more effort into packing on this trip with all their scheduled adventures, and today’s outfit was no exception. They planned to spend a fair amount of time walking around Savannah today, and then she and Ruby had organized a bachelorette party for tonight. Given the itinerary, she’d needed an outfit casual enough for a stroll through the city and yet dressy enough for a night out with the girls.

“You look tantalizing enough to tempt a man to stay home and have his wicked way with you, Swan,” Killian said, coming up behind her in the living room, wrapping his arms around her middle and nosing at her hair, before placing a not-quite-chaste kiss at the base of her neck.

She shivered in response. When he used that tone of voice, all low and gravelly and full of sin, she nearly forgot her own name.

“What, and miss out on Savannah?” she asked, her voice far from steady.

“I’ve no doubt Savannah has many charms, Love,” he said, still peppering her with kisses, “but she couldn’t possibly hold a candle to you.”

“Oi! Get a room you two!” Will said, opening the cottage door and breezing in.

“They already have one,” Regina said with an eye roll as she came into the room where they were all gathered, “and if we have to wait for them to make use of it, we’ll never get to Savannah, and I, for one, am looking forward to touring the cemetery.”

“That’s not creepy at all,” Emma said under her breath.

“It’s actually not creepy at all!” Belle said, standing close enough to her friend that she heard exactly what was said. “The cemeteries there are so old, there’s so much history! It’s fascinating.”

“I’m interested in taking a stroll along the river, getting a gander at the establishments and riverboats,” Liam said.

“I’d like to walk through the squares under the shade of all of those big, beautiful live oaks,” Mary Margaret said. “I wonder why they’re called live oaks?”

“It’s because they are semi-deciduous,” Graham said. “They never lose all of their leaves. There’s also a bit about the Spanish moss that clings to them–which is neither Spanish, nor moss, by the way. It got its name because…”

“Let’s save the botany lectures for the road,” Regina said dismissively. “It’s an hour and a half drive, and if we wait for everyone to share all their collective knowledge, we’ll never get there.”

“Regina, did you just call us smart?” Will asked.

“You’re the exception that proves the rule,” she snarked.

With only one day to spend in Savannah, they knew they couldn’t possibly see everything they hoped to see, and so they planned on splitting up - Emma, Killian, Elsa and Liam taking the riverwalk, Regina, Robin, Roland, Belle and Will touring Bonaventure Cemetery, and Graham, Ruby, Mary Margaret and David strolling through the various squares and touring the shopping district.

With their plans made, they headed to their respective cars for the drive north.

Two hours later, Emma and Killian walked hand in hand down the sidewalk overlooking the river. It was a beautiful day, quite mild for Savannah in July and with a refreshing light breeze.

“So, you’re having dinner at The Melting Pot, right?” Killian asked.

Emma nodded. “Then Ruby found something for dessert that she’s refused to tell even me.”

“Any idea what it might be?” he asked.

“Nope,” Emma chuckled. “Knowing Ruby, it’ll be as risqué as she can possibly get by with and still remain within Mary Margaret’s requirements.”

“Was Ruby particularly disappointed with her stipulation against strippers?” he asked with a grin.

Emma laughed. “Actually, it was the opposite. She just shrugged and said it’s no big deal. She’ll have Graham give her a strip tease when she gets home.”

Killian laughed. “And I’d assume the man in question went quite vermillion at that?”

“Naturally.”

“Killian, look at that,” Liam said, gesturing to the row of shops and restaurants across the street. “Who in their right mind would choose to name their establishment The Broken Keel?”

Killian shook his head derisively, “Bloody fools, that’s who.”

“So, I take it you aren’t interested in going there for lunch?” Elsa asked slyly.

“No!” both men shouted emphatically, causing the women to go off into peals of laughter.

The foursome continued their walk, enjoying the company and the sights of the historic district, the men particularly interested in the majestic river boats docked and awaiting passengers, and the women more interested in the shops and sculptures.

Emma had been fascinated listening to an old man with a long, white beard play his saxophone as he sat on a bench near the river. From the alleyway behind came the sound of a man singing, clapping, and tapping his feet. The city was so vibrant and alive and full of joie de vivre.

She turned around to comment about it to Killian, but her boyfriend was nowhere to be found.

“Looks like we lost your brother,” she commented to Liam. “Let’s hope he didn’t fall in the river.”

Liam laughed and then gave her a look she couldn’t interpret. “I believe he headed toward the riverboats to make some inquiries.”

“Inquiries about what?” she asked.

Liam merely shrugged and then determinedly changed the subject.

Suspicious. Very suspicious.

But then Killian was rejoining their group and they were off again, and Emma put the strange incident from her mind.

~*~*~

As the day settled into evening, the men and women met up again to head to their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties. While the men had reservations for a dinner at the historic Pirate’s House, Ruby announced the locations of the bachelorette party with a mischievous look in her eye.

“First, Emma made dinner reservations for us at The Melting Pot. But no dessert,” she continued, shaking her finger at them all as they ooo-ed and ahhh-ed over Emma’s choice. “I found somewhere else for that. It’s this amazing place called Better Than Sex - A Dessert Restaurant. Who doesn’t like their cake with a spicy dose of innuendo?”

Mary Margaret groaned…although if the dessert was as good as all that, she wouldn’t complain about their plans for the night. After taking a few moments to say goodbye to their men, the ladies made their way to The Melting Pot.

After their delicious and rather entertaining meal, they walked down the street to the dessert bar. Ruby had reserved a table for a private party, and as soon as the ladies arrived, their friendly, smiling waiter led them up to a room with red walls, plush carpeting, opulent chandeliers and gauzy white curtains covering the windows and ceiling. The room was dimly lit by flickering candles that lined a long banquet table, the chandeliers being more for ambiance than illumination. The smooth jazz music issuing from the sound system completed the atmosphere, and Mary Margaret rather felt as though they were having dessert in a very fancy boudoir.

“Are you ladies celebrating anything in particular tonight?” the server asked, glancing around the group.

“It’s her bachelorette party!” Ruby announced, pointing one exquisitely manicured finger in Mary Margaret’s direction. “She’s gonna tie the knot the day after tomorrow!”

“Congratulations!” the server beamed, “and might I say, you’ve come to the right place. I’m not just saying this; these desserts are to die for. I’ll give you a chance to look over the menu.”

“Order anything you want,” Belle said to Mary Margaret, as soon as the waiter withdrew. “It’s on us; we’re all pitching in.”

Mary Margaret took a sip of the water sitting before her place setting just as she began to peruse the selections, and she almost spit out the sip she’d taken.

“Oh my! These dessert names are…quite something,” Elsa said with a little chuckle.

“That’s one way to put it,” Mary Margaret agreed with a smile and a shake of her head. The selections on offer had spicy names such as “Pound Town”, “Berry Bondage”, “Naughty by Nature”, “Man Flowers” and “Peanut Butter Perversion.” The descriptions themselves were so steamy they wouldn’t have been out of place on the pages of one of those bodice ripper novels with a half-naked Adonis on the cover.

After some deliberation, she decided to go with the titillatingly-named Hot Sex in Savannah. “Your wildest fantasies have come true!” the menu read. “Georgia peaches have gotten frisky with a little bourbon, pecans, and roasted habanero to reproduce a smokin’ good time. As if you weren’t already having a ball, we’ve added a friend for you to flirt with...... a tickle of our house-made bacon ice cream.”

“What’s everyone getting?” Ruby asked. “I decided to go with the ‘Between My Red Velvet Sheets Cheesecake’.”

After a little discussion, everyone made their selections. Regina ordered the ‘Missionary Crisp’--an apple and cake-like confection. Emma opted for the ‘Morning After’ to no one’s surprise–it, after all, consisted of a chocolate and brie grilled cheese. Elsa chose the ‘Perfect Partner’, essentially a sundae made from vanilla bean ice cream and white chocolate. Belle rounded out the order with the very suggestively titled ‘Caress My Carrot’, perhaps the most decadent slice of carrot cake ever baked.

The restaurant was so very committed to its naughty puns, it had a note at the bottom of the menu that said 'and no suggestive dessert is truly complete without an equally racy cocktail'. They ordered such colorful drinks as ‘Midnight Vixen’, ‘Love Potion 69’, ‘Minty Moaner’, ‘Tingly-Tini’ and ‘Peanut-Tration’.

Mary Margaret noticed that Elsa was discreetly perusing the section almost tamely-labeled ‘for virgins.’

“So….you’re foregoing the alcohol tonight, I see,” Mary Margaret said, drawing out the first word meaningfully.

“I’ve never found a cocktail I really like,” Elsa said, studiously avoiding her friend’s gaze, a small, secret smile on her lips. “And besides, we need someone to be the designated driver.”

Mary Margaret wasn’t buying that for a moment, but before she could dig deeper to find out whether the secret hunch she’d carried since overhearing Elsa and Liam’s conversation was correct, their food and drinks arrived, and with that, all other thoughts were forgotten.

For long minutes after their desserts were served, the only sounds to be heard were soft exclamations, hums of satisfaction, and moans of ecstasy. There was no doubt about it, Mary Margaret decided. These desserts did not oversell themselves. How they’d managed to turn what was essentially a peach cobbler into such a rich, decadent, and spicy explosion of flavor on her tongue was beyond her.

“So what did you think?” Ruby asked. “Did it live up to its name?”

Mary Margaret thought for a moment. “It was good. It was very good,” she repeated, “but better than sex?” She shook her head with a smug smile. “Not a chance.”

“I did not need to hear that,” Emma muttered.

But in the end, all the ladies had to agree.

~*~*~

The men emerged from their vehicles in the parking lot of The Pirate’s House, the world famous restaurant housed in one of Savannah’s oldest buildings. The structure, only a block from the riverfront, was originally built in 1734 - a year after the town’s founding - as the quarters for the keeper of the Trustees’ Garden, the first public agricultural experimental garden in America. By the early 1750’s, Savannah was a vibrant and thriving port city and The Herb House, as it had been named, was converted into an inn that attracted sailors and pirates alike. Legend said the infamous Captain Flint actually died inside the historic building.

“And perhaps, lingers still,” Killian intoned, his eyebrows waggling in intrigue at little Roland, whose eyes resembled round saucers.

“Really?” His high pitched screech made the men chuckle. “Is it haunted, Papa? Are we gonna see a ghost?” His voice got impossibly higher as he all but jumped up and down grabbing the hem of Robin’s shirt. “ARE WE GONNA SEE THE GHOST OF CAPTAIN FLINT, PAPA?”

“Not quite, Roland,” Robin explained. “Uncle Killian doesn’t quite have his facts straight.”

“Oi!” Killian protested.

“Captain Flint wasn’t a real pirate,” Robin continued, as if Killian hadn’t spoken at all. “He wasn’t even a real man. He’s a character in the story of Treasure Island written by Robert Louis Stevenson back in the 1880’s.”

“Wowwww,” Roland breathed. “So when you and Uncle Liam were little?” he asked, innocently. Loud guffaws burst out of Killian and Will alike, with Graham and David able to contain their mirth a little better, hiding their laughter behind their hands, their eyes dancing in amusement. Liam snorted and shook his head.

“We’re not that old,” Robin chuckled, ruffling Roland’s curls, “But it is said that The Pirate’s House inspired Stevenson to write it, using a fictional Captain Flint to set the story in motion.”

The men and little boy stepped onto the porch and through the door of the establishment to be greeted by the hostess. The exterior was gray wooden clapboard with light blue shutters over very weathered red brick, but when they stepped inside, the dark wood paneling, low wooden ceilings, and various piratical accoutrements scattered around were enough to make one feel as if he really had stepped back in time a couple hundred years.

In the corner across from the door, a life-sized carved wooden pirate stood sentry at the crossroads between the bar (for Thirsty Pirates, according to the small sign above the hostess station pointing left), restaurant (for Hungry Pirates, according to another sign pointing to the right), and the stairs leading up to the second story where the gift shop could be found.

Roland was beside himself and begged Robin to take his picture with the statue who could only be Captain Flint before being let loose in the gift shop to find pirate toys to play with back at the cottage. Robin waved the others on, telling them they’d catch up in a few minutes.

It only took Roland about ten minutes to fully outfit himself with a plastic sword and hook, a pirate hat, and an eye patch, as well as a door hanger with the Jolly Roger flag on it and the caption NO TRESPASSING PIRATE’S TERRITORY. The men all laughed and cheered when he and Robin made their appearance at the table.

“Arrrrrrr, me hearties!” Roland growled, jumping out from around the corner as Robin made his way to an empty seat. He prowled around the table, swinging the sword this way and that until his father admonished him to be careful not to hit anyone or anything with it. Once he was seated, David showed him the kids’ menu and helped him pick his meal of the Frozen Rainbow- a very fruity frozen drink- and Bold Billy Bones, which consisted of fried shrimp and special Pirate’s House fries.

Once all their orders were placed and their waiter withdrew, a female pirate approached. She had long strawberry blonde hair and wore a bright red long-sleeved blouse underneath a leather vest and tight leather pants.

“Ah ha!” she gasped, focusing on Roland at the other end of the table. “It be the villainous Captain Hook.”

Roland didn’t miss a beat. He jumped to his feet, brandishing his sword and challenged the female pirate to a duel. She drew her own blade, and they proceeded to cross swords for just a few seconds, the men whooping and hollering encouragement to Roland before the lady was disarmed. She smiled proudly at the boy and declared him a master swordsman to have defeated the most famous female pirate of all time, Anne Bonny.

She offered to show Roland around the Pirate’s House, and Will jumped up and took Roland by the hand to go see some of the historical artifacts and the rum cellar, stating that he was sure Belle would be interested to hear about it.

While Will and Roland were gone, their drinks arrived. The pirate theme was pervasive throughout the restaurant, and the guys had had a great time choosing their respective drinks. First, they ordered two Diplomatico Rum Flights to share between them all. Well, David and Robin as the designated drivers didn’t indulge in the rum flights but focused on a single cocktail for the evening. David had the Savannah Tea while Robin chose the Savannah Storm. Killian had trouble choosing between Pirate’s Pleasure and Release the Kraken, but finally settled on Pirate’s Pleasure when Liam chose the Kraken. But once the drinks were delivered and Liam offered Killian a sip, he opted for the Kraken as well to accompany his meal. Graham chose the Raspberry Mojito because it reminded him of Ruby, and Will ordered the Skull Crusher in a souvenir skull mug.

A few minutes later, Anne Bonny, Will, and Roland returned to the table, Will sporting quite a goose egg on his forehead over his right eye.

“What happened to you?” David asked loudly. Roland ran to Robin talking a mile a minute.

“Uncle Will was going down the stairs to the rum cellar and was telling me to watch my step and didn’t see the… the…”

“The bloody roof of the cellar, or floor we’re walking on, whatever,” Will interrupted.

“Yeah, what Uncle Will said,” Roland said, turning back to Robin and continuing his monologue with hardly a breath in between. “And bam, Uncle Will hit his head and then fell on his bottom on the stairs and bump-bump-bumped down to the bottom,” he said, with appropriate sound effects included. “The first step was really big, and Pirate Anne was holding my hand so I didn’t fall, and Uncle Will turned back around just in time to hit his head. He says his noggin is fine, but his butt is sore. Again.” It didn’t take much imagination for the men to realize that those were the exact words out of Will’s mouth when the accident happened, and they all broke into loud laughter.

Will sat down - slowly and carefully - and immediately took a sip of his drink, waving aside the skeptical look Killian shot him.

“I’m fine, Mate,” he said. “But look at the skull! How cool is that?”

“And it’s not even cracked like yours, Mate!” Graham cackled.

The other men all laughed as Will grumbled under his breath before taking another sip.

Roland proceeded to recount all the history and things they’d seen and experienced during their private tour, with Anne Bonny staying at the table to fill in details that Roland missed.

“There was definitely something weird over in the corner of the rum cellar,” Will interjected when Roland was telling them about the giant Jolly Roger flag down there and how there were chains suspended from the ceiling that just started swinging all on their own. “Where the tunnels led down to the river,” Will continued. “Just like an electrical current, felt kind of odd. Not cold, but odd. I don’t know if it was a ghost or not…”

“Of course, it was, Uncle Will!” Roland interrupted. “Captain Flint,” he said, attempting to make his voice low and gravelly. “He died here, remember? It had to be his ghost.”

Everyone laughed good naturedly, then Anne spoke. “No, not Captain Flint, me bucko,” she said, her rich Irish brogue dripping from every word, a mischievous smile on her face, “but perhaps the Rowdy Ghost who usually haunts the Captain’s Room next door. Ee’s been known to follow patrons down to the rum cellar and play tricks on ‘em. Now this room that y’ere in is haunted by the Friendly Ghost. It’s a bit of a misnomer. Ee’s not exactly friendly, but more of a prankster. Ee’ll switch drinks around, steal food, that sort of thing.”

Just then, their meals arrived. Once everyone was served and beginning to dig into the delicious looking and smelling banquet, Liam announced loudly, “Well, I don’t believe in ghosts.”

No sooner had the words left his lips when his plate of parmesan crusted tilapia flipped over, depositing his meal on the surface of the table, the upended plate landing on top. There was stunned silence for a moment before Killian spoke up, hoping to diffuse a potentially traumatic occurrence for the precocious and brave, but still very small, boy in their midst.

“That’ll teach you to say you don’t believe in ghosts inside a clearly haunted house, big brother,” he teased. Roland’s eyes were still as huge as saucers, his mouth hanging open slightly, but he laughed when everyone else did as Liam turned as red as a ripe tomato. Robin shot Killian a grateful look, and Anne grabbed Liam’s plate.

“Aye,” Anne agreed, “It’s never wise to express disbelief in the resident spirits in a haunted house. I’ll just fetch ye a new plate, Sir.”

Once his replacement dinner arrived, Liam joined the rest of them in enjoying the excellent repast. No more ghostly incidents occurred, much to Robin’s relief, and by the end of the meal Roland was yawning nearly every thirty seconds.

Anne appeared again as they were all rising from the table. “Ah, me bucko, I see that ye have cleared yere plate of Bold Billy Bones’ fried shrimp and special fries. And your Tiny Tim dessert as well! Ye’ve earned a trip to Billy’s treasure chest in the lobby.” That got Roland’s attention quickly, and he perked up and took her outstretched hand, following her through the restaurant until they emerged in the lobby. He hadn’t noticed it when they came in, but there in the corner was a real wooden treasure chest filled to the brim with lollipops.

“Can I have one, Papa? Can I?” Roland begged.

“Sure,” Robin agreed, an indulgent smile on his face.

After Roland picked his treat, they all emerged into the night, piled into their vehicles and went to pick up their ladies for the drive home to the cottages.

~*~*~

Notes

As with previous chapters, most of what we had our characters do in this chapter was taken from our actual adventures.

We met Giennie for the day in Savannah and she took us on a tour of one of the very old cemeteries (although our excursion was in Colonial Park Cemetery. We didn’t have time to tour Bonaventure Cemetery like Regina and Robin did). We also drove around some of the squares with the magnificent live oaks and Spanish moss.

With a little bit of time to kill before our reservations for the evening, we took a walk by the river and saw many of the same sights Emma, Killian, Liam and Elsa saw– The Broken Keel, street performers, river boats and memorial sculptures.

We did indeed eat at The Melting Pot, but our dinner was on the way to our rental on the first day of vacation rather than during our primary Savannah day. Unlike the ladies in our story, we opted for the full 5 course celebration rather than the cheese and meat courses alone.

Better Than Sex: A Dessert Restaurant is an actual Savannah restaurant, and while we discussed going, it wouldn’t fit in our schedule. The descriptions of the private party room as well as the names and descriptions of the desserts and cocktails were taken from the restaurant’s website. When we were planning this fic, we had fun choosing desserts and cocktails for the characters.

The Pirate House is also a Savannah restaurant, but this one we did visit. Our evening involved not only dinner at The Pirate House but a haunted tour of the city beforehand and a tour of the (now rum-less) rum cellar. Our table was in the Herb House, which is the oldest part of the restaurant, built in the 18th century. Our waiter was not, in fact, Anne Bonny - historical female pirate - but she made a nice addition to our story. Was she really there? Was she a ghost? Was she a waitress in costume? I guess we’ll never know. The large first step and the low entrance to the rum cellar were real. As we descended the stairs, we immediately knew Will had to crack his cranium one more time as a callback to last year’s fic in addition to denting his derriere. Again. We were also told stories about the ghosts that haunt the Pirate House–from floating orbs to the ghosts named in the story. None of us had any kind of paranormal experience – although one of the guys in our tour group tried to trick our guide into thinking there was – by setting some chains in motion when the guide told us they sometimes move on their own.

Up next on Thursday: Big moments for all of our couples! The most significant being David and Mary Margaret’s wedding, of course – but there are several other secrets revealed, as well as a life-changing moment aboard a riverboat.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! We'll be back with our final ch on Thursday!

#destination dream weddings driving disasters & dented derrieres #vacay fic #collab fic #krystal writes #snowbellewells #jrob64 #whimsicallyenchantedrose #art by joni

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between-two-fandoms · 9 months ago

Note

Wait is this a new thing now? Not longer BuckTommy OR Buddie but BuckTommy AND Riaz? Or is this more of a crackship?

For me, Riaz started as a crack ship in a discord server and ended up becoming a non-canon ship I ship for realsies. A couple mutuals and I came up with the initial idea as a joke. We merry few came up with hcs and theories in dms. Fast forward to a week or so ago when I figured 'why the hell not?' and started posting about them. Imagine my surprise when I found a very small amount of other people who also shipped my silly little rare pair!!!

I'm newer to the 9-1-1 fandom (having joined this past month). I don't have a ton of stakes in the whole bucktommy vs buddie thing. I'm a believer of DLDR (Don't Like Don't Read) and Ship and Let Ship, which means it's rare for me to engage in ship wars. I've always managed to find joy in my own little corner of Tumblr shipping rare pairs and becoming emotionally attached to characters in media I consume.

(more under cut)

I liked the dynamic between Eddie and Josh when Eddie worked at dispatch. It felt like they were good at balancing other. Balance was something Eddie needed more of during season 5. I liked seeing Eddie outside of the 118, interacting with characters he normally wouldn't have. It was different, but not bad different. I had one little thought of lol, what if Eddie and Josh ended up dating at one point?

One of my mutuals encouraged/supported my chaotic thought process so I word exploded in her inbox for a couple of hours. In true fashion, like other rare pairs I've shipped, I ended up coming up with a whole AU in my head for them because I can never be normal about anything ever.

I still like bucktommy, buddie, polyfire, and all of that. Riaz is just something new and refreshing I've added to my mix of ships.

That was probably more information than what you wanted, sorry about that, I tend to ramble. Feel free to ask more questions if you have any!

#eddie diaz #josh russo #riaz #jeddie #josh x eddie #ren answers

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greyias · 2 years ago

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I wish you would write a fic where... Theron somehow amasses a following of actual, physical porn bots droids and shenanigans ensue

I saw this prompt come in and devolved into a fit of heinous cackling. How, oh how could I resist trying to render our collective Tumblr nightmare into fictional text form?

Context: While not required reading, this is technically a sequel to this stunning crackfic, authored so long ago. If you need a refresher on the Medical Droid Love Triangle Saga, follow this link. Or this one, which is the real villain origin story of this fic. Or don't, you're already cursed if you click beyond the read more of this post.

With special thanks to @grumpyhedgehog, @sandwyrm, @storyknitter, @kitsonpaws, and @andveryginger for providing me with ideas, cursed pornbot summaries, and many cursed HoloNet websites that should never exist. You are not required to read any of this.

Technically rated T, but in reality rated N for Nobody, because no one should have to read this. I'm packing my bags, as my ride to superhell just came. Enjoy.

It had started as such a normal day -- if you could indeed have called any day on Odessen “normal”. What with the galaxy always being at the brink of some disaster or another, and their merry little band of misfits being led by the galaxy’s most notorious do-gooder, Theron’s schedule and to-do list had a tendency to get derailed on almost a daily basis.

This, however, was not how that usually happened.

He’d paused, mid-step, finger still hovering over his datapad, mid-entry as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, slowly dawning horror washing over him. His head turned slowly, like one of those doomed characters in a horror holofilm to look at the droid he’d just passed.

It was one of the new ones that had come in on a recent shipment. So new in fact, that there was still a fleet of them in the middle of being unpacked in the Logistics Wing. Shining, tall and blue, its highly polished quadranium head pivoted to look back at him.

“What,” Theron swallowed, willing his voice to sound even and not give in to the creeping dread, “what did you say?”

“Theron Shan,” the droid repeated helpfully, “is a master lover.”

“Oh no.” The words slipped out of their own accord.

“Just a moment, sir,” the droid continued, seemingly oblivious to the human’s distress, “I’m not quite done with your evaluation yet. Let’s see, where were we?”

“No no no no.”

The round flattened dome that served as its head tilted to one side, beady orange eyes sweeping over Theron from head to toe, before resuming its cheery, if horrifying report. “Subject is an exemplary specimen. In good cardiovascular health, above average muscle tone. Tall, well-built, and very clean...”

“Um,” Theron stammered. “I’m...” Flattered? Taken? Leaving? Wait--yes, that last one. “Going now!”

He didn’t give the cursed machine any more time to continue ogling him, instead taking off down the hall at a very brisk walk that nearly bordered on a jog. His mind raced at he beat a hasty retreat, trying to understand what was happening. It had been over a year since the The Incident, dubbed by some as the “Sexy Spy Virus”, and others by much more crude names, where a little harmless reprogramming had taken on a life of its own. Theron had been meticulous in his coding of the antivirus, wanting to ensure that the entire debacle would be forgotten. There was simply no way that it could crop back in on its own.

“Theron,” the brisk accented tone of one Lana Beniko burst in over his comm, “why did a droid just feel the need to inform me that they found rust on its insides during its last tune-up?”

“I don’t know,” Theron insisted, but his words were almost drowned out by a metallic clanking echoing down the corridor.

He threw a look over his shoulder, and to his horror, saw that his robotic admirer had decided to give chase.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” he quickly said into the comm as the droid picked up speed from a walk to an all out gallop.

“Theron,” she sounded both concerned and exasperated, which, considering Lana, was about par the course, “what’s going on?”

“Save me!” He shouted as he took off a dead sprint.

In his many years in the field, Theron had been threatened, sure. Shot at? Many times. He’d been drugged. Tortured. Stabbed through the gut with a lightsaber pike and lived to tell the tale. He’d run into Sith, Revanites, bounty hunters, thugs, fanatics and cultists alike. He’d been in more firefights than he could remember, and more covert ops than he cared to. He’d even been accused of being a traitor (although that was kind of the point at the time).

None of that compared right now to being chased down by a droid yelling at top volume claiming he was the best lover it had ever seen.

And this time, he was pretty sure it wasn’t actually his fault.

He rounded the corner from the corridor leading from the Logistics Wing, passing by the Commander’s (and at this point, his) Quarters. HK-55 and Z0-0M straightened to their full height at his arrival. Oh thank the Force, allies.

“Salutations: Agent Shan, you are looking quite spry today.”

“What?” he panted as he approached.

“Yes, Agent Shan, don’t believe what anyone else is saying!” Zeeyo exclaimed, throwing her arms into the air. “Your undercarriage doesn’t look rusty at all!”

Mind sharp as a tack, Theron realized the implications of this just in time, and dodged to the side, ducking and rolling as the assassin-turned-bodyguard droid lunged forward to trap him in a bear hug. Not pausing to even catch his breath, as soon as his feet hit the ground he propelled himself forward and further down the hall.

“Frustration: I only wish to profess my admiration for you, Agent Shan!”

“Nope nope nope nope!” Desperation was starting to tinge the edges of his words now.

The metallic clanking intensified as more droids behind him joined in the chase, all of their vocabulators joining in unison to tell him in one way, or another, that he was in fact, the pinnacle of sexual prowess.

Theron couldn’t run forever, despite whatever their programming was forcing them to say, his stamina would give out before the lustftul droids’ power supplies. As the corridor zigged and twisted, he saw an opening in the form of a door sliding open. Without hesitation he dove in, shoving the individual there, thankfully made of flesh and bone, aside as he slammed the door controls.

The door slid securely shut just as the thunderous clanking filled the corridor beyond, their lustful words of appreciation and encouragement nearly drowned out by the racket. Theron hadn’t bothered to look or count, but he was pretty sure that the number had risen from three in the scant moments it had taken Theron to dart from one corridor to the next.

He held up a hand to his lips as he turned to thank the person who had unwittingly provided his temporary salvation. The words of gratitude died on his lips, as he realized exactly who’s room he had sought refuge in.

For a moment, Theron truly considered surrendering himself to the lusty droid mob.

Draike Highwind’s face was caught somewhere between confusion and amusement, but the latter was winning out as he started to decipher individual phrases drifting in from the corridor. A dark brow arched higher, lips twitching with undisguised mirth as the stupid blue droid that had started this whole mess yelled once again about Theron being a master lover.

More seconds passed, the ruckus quieting down, before silence descended once more, and it was finally safe to speak.

“So,” Draike drew out the word, somehow lacing it with more innuendo than all of the malfunctioning droids combined, “what ya been doing, Shan?”

“Nothing!” he insisted, voice still hushed just in case one of the droids could somehow hear.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” His brother-in-law’s smirk widened into an almost feral grin, eyebrows waggling. “Sounds like you’ve been getting... busy.”

One of the greatest mysteries in the galaxy was how one man could make anything sound that dirty. “I was minding my own business!”

“Oh, I bet you were.”

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

“I mean...” If looks could kill, the pilot would have melted on the spot. Unfortunately for Theron, Draike was apparently immune to that sort of thing. “How often do I get the chance?”

“Did you do this?”

“Me?” Draike let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Stars, I wish I could have thought of something this good! These are memories I will cherish forever.”

Theron massaged the bridge of his nose. “I hate my life.”

“I mean, I’m not really into droids,” Draike went on, either not knowing (or more likely caring) about his brother-in-law’s predicament, “flesh is more my kind of thing. But you know, if you and the little lady need to spice things up by bringing in a little metal--”

“Please stop. I’m begging you!”

“Begging, eh? So you’re saying you’re more into--“

“Forget it, I’m taking my chances with the sex-crazed machines roaming the halls.” His palm hovered over the door sensors.

“Theron, wait!” There was enough urgency in Draike’s voice to give him pause. “It’s dangerous out there, take this.”

At first, he was honestly afraid to look, expecting to be offered something like a condom or some other bad joke, but was surprised to see the other man holding out a stealth generator.

“To escape your fans.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I know. I’m a genius.”

“I didn’t say that.” He quickly nabbed the stealth generator before Draike could change his mind and frowned at the initials carved in the side in Aurabesh. “Is this even yours?”

“Eh, close enough.”

Whatever, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Theron would deal with those potential repercussions later. He flicked on the power to the stealth generator which let out a low, almost inaudible hum as a burst of life engulfed his form. He closed his eyes against the sudden burst of brightness, and when he opened them again, dark spots of the light pattern danced in his vision for a few seconds. He blinked a few more times before they faded away.

He waved an arm experimentally in front of his face, and only felt the slight movement of air. Draike didn’t seem to react at all, and that was probably good enough.

“Thanks,” he said, palming the sensor to the door.

Draike rolled his eyes and ambled out into the corridor, looking around with the air of a man all too used to hiding from those looking for him. Theron watched as he raised a hand to a very slowly moving GNK power droid.

“How’s it hanging?”

“GONK!”

“Oh yeah? You don’t say! I think I saw him head that way.” Draike pointed in the direction leading to cantina. “Just between you and me, I heard he’s sweet on that droid who’s a comfort enthusiast.”

“GONK! GONK! GONK!”

Still hidden underneath the stealth field, Theron had to bite down the urge to make any noise of frustration and just turned an invisible, irritated gaze at the other man’s back. As if sensing Theron’s irritation, Draike just grinned wider.

“Yeah, you know how those spy types are. Always toying with droids’ hearts. You could do better than him.”

“GONK!”

“Oh, you spicy droid! Yeah, trundle off that way, big guy. I’m sure you’ll catch him!”

With a loud clanking, the GNK droid began his slow and steady journey towards the cantina. As the echoes finally faded, Draike casually stretched, pointing towards the direction of the War Room.

Theron skulked on by, but not before giving his brother-in-law a well deserved whop upside the head. The stealth field flickered momentarily on the physical contact before shimmering back into place.

“It’d serve you right to get caught by doing that,” Draike sniffed indignantly, “after all I’ve done to help you.”

“When all of this is over--”

“Hush now,” Draike waved at the air in front of him. “You have bigger problems to deal with. Meanwhile, I will be heading to the cantina. And definitely won’t be live-streaming any brawls breaking out over the Master Lover breaking droid hearts everywhere.”

Theron snorted out an annoyed breath, and checked his urge to trip Draike as he sauntered off, hands jammed into his pockets as he whistled a jaunty tune. Like the purloined stealth generator, he’d have to worry about slicing and corrupting any servers containing evidence of this mess after he figured out how to stop whatever this was from spreading any further.

The upside to this whole unfortunate side encounter, was that the stealth generator made it possible for him to quietly creep around any droids he passed in the corridor. Most seemed to be making a hasty exit for the cantina, almost as if word had spread of Drake’s false rumor about his and C2-N2’s torrid love affair and every heartbroken circuit was flocking in that direction now.

And when he thought about it like that, when exactly had this become his life? Oh, right. Like fifteen minutes ago. Or however long this nightmare had started. Time had sort of lost meaning, if he were being honest.

He managed to make it to the war room, undetected and unmolested, and quietly snuck his way towards the irritable blonde Sith, holding her head in her hands as if she were battling the world’s strongest migraine. As Theron approached the Sith, he could hear her muttering under her breath in frustration. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat, causing her to jerk her head up in surprise.

“Who’s there?”

“Quiet,” Theron hissed. “They might hear you.”

“Oh, for Sith’s sake,” she exhaled, “where in the blazes have you been?”

“Hiding,” he whispered urgently. “These droids have all gone haywire!”

“And who’s fault is that, I wonder.”

“Not me,” he insisted, “not this time!”

“Right,” she said sardonically, “and I suppose that’s why there isn’t a reality holoseries entitled ‘Programmed for Love’ currently being live-streamed in the cantina for the entire HoloNet to see.”

“Damn it, Draike!” Theron cursed. “I thought he was joking about that.”

“Of course. How did I not see that coming?” she muttered.

“I’ll slice in and scrub all of the servers after we figure out this... this... whatever this is?”

“Your insecurities laid bare in binary?” she suggested, oh so helpfully.

“Why did I come to you for help again?”

“Because--”

It was at that point, that a probe droid, currently speeding its way towards the cantina, happened to take notice of Lana talking to thin air, and veered off its intended trajectory, heading straight for Theron’s position near the back of the war room. If the loud alarms and flashing lights were any indication, it had been able to see through his stealth generator.

Wait... those weren’t alarm proximities it was flashing. As Theron watched its rapid approach, he couldn’t help but stare at it in dumb fascination, brow furrowing as he tried to make out the images it was projecting. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say it was a bizarre mixture of Aurabesh and hologlyphs.

He squinted, just able to make out: “DX-98 🤖🔥 Analytical Scanner 💋🙏 Okara Droid Factory 🔍🌌💕 Exobiology Research 🥵🍑 Top HoloFans 0.7%!”

Before he had a chance to process any of that, the droid was already upon him, pincher arms spreading wide to snap him up for some purpose far beyond its original programming. He only had milliseconds to react before the droid reached him, when an explosive force sent the droid flying backwards harmlessly, and had Theron landing ungracefully on his tailbone. The stealth field fizzled out with a pop on his impact with the ground.

A familiar figure landed between him and the droid, twin blue scarves billowing behind her dramatically, blonde ponytail swaying with the motion of her movement. A small frown of concentration bunched her forehead as his wife threw a concerned look in his direction.

“You requested rescue?” Grey asked.

“Ah, my knight in shining armor has arrived,” he quipped back.

“I am not wearing my armor.” The frown of concentration morphed into one of confusion.

“I--never mind.” He pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his hands. “Thank you for the timely intervention.”

She graced him with a hint of a smile and a bob of her head in acknowledgment. “Any time.”

“As touching as all of this is,” Lana broke in sourly, “it still doesn’t solve our larger problem.”

“Yeah,” Theron rubbed the back of his neck, “you’re not wrong. It sounds like this has spread across the entire base?”

“It appears that way,” Lana said tightly. “You know, you assured me that all of this had been taken care of the last time we dealt with this issue.”

“Hey now,” he bit back, “I’m a man of my word!”

She snorted at that. “Tell that to the Umbaran Transit Authority.”

“How are you still mad about that?”

“You tazed me!”

“Focus,” Grey said, eyeing the stunned probe droid warily. “If memory serves me correct, you had a program you deployed to revert the programming of the droids the last time this happened.”

“Yes, that’s what doesn’t make sense.” He watched as the holoprojectors on the downed probe droid flickered, hologlyphs flashing rapidly in the War Room’s dim light. “I programmed it to eliminate all trace of the offending code. The only way it could be reappearing now is if someone took one of the infected droids offline before I deployed...”

Lana arrived at the same conclusion right about the time that Theron did, picking up the thought. “I seem to recall a certain someone requesting you replicate your work for less-than-legal purposes.”

Theron angrily punched the button on his comm as he growled, “Gault!”

The Devaronian’s voice came back immediately, almost a little too suave. “Theron! What a surprise to hear your dulcet tones requesting my presence.”

“Gault,” Lana managed to keep some measure of calm, “are you responsible for this current situation?”

“What situation is that?” he asked far too innocently, even as a distant call of a droid’s clanking nearly drowned out it’s loud declaration of the presence of rust on one Theron Shan’s “bolt”. There was a moment of silence before he continued. “Oh! You mean the lustful droids currently running amok on the base?”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Lana said dryly. “My original question stands.”

“I am shocked, shocked and scandalized that my name would be the first to come to mind! Might I remind you, it was one Miss Djannis who requested you create her a Shan Sexbot.”

“Yeah,” Kaliyo jumped in on the comms, clearly annoyed, the sound of metallic brawling nearly drowning out her voice, “I wanted it for hilarious crimes! Not whatever the fuck this is!”

“Gault,” a third voice, Hylo Visz, cut in. From the background noise, it seemed she was in the same location as Kaliyo. “I swear, if you don’t help us figure out how to stop this, when you’re not looking I’ll cut off your--”

“Okay, okay, geez!” He interrupted before his significant other could finish whatever that threat was. “Fine, it was me! I deactivated a droid before Theron uploaded his program.”

“Of course.” Lana rolled her eyes upwards, as if asking the Force for patience.

“In my defense,” Gault continued, “originally it was just to shut the stupid thing up! But then Kaliyo came up with that brilliant idea for the Shan Sexbot Distraction, and I thought, why not hold on to this beauty in case it came in handy for a con?”

The sound of Theron smacking his forehead in frustration echoed throughout the War Room.

“So you know, just had a fun idea come to me the other day, so I extracted the original programming and altered a few things, and tried to put it into a new droid for my plan.”

“Did that droid happen to be a blue medical monstrosity?” Theron was actively massaging his temples at this point.

“I will have you know,” Gault said, “that BL-U3 is a consummate professional. You would be lucky to have him perform a medical exam on you!”

“Yeah, that was definitely his intent,” Theron shot back. “Purely professional and not lecherous at all! Which was not in any of my code.”

“Hey, I never claimed to be very talented when it came to software programming. I may have made a mistake or two when altering your code.”

“May have?!”

“How was I supposed to know that the remnants of the Gemini Frequency code in our systems was going to work after the entire Eternal Fleet had gone offline and deploy your software STD to the entire network? Sue me!”

“I’m considering it!”

Before the mostly pointless argument could escalate any further, the sounds of metallic clanking from above, roughly from the location of the cantina, began to grow closer, the cacophony increasing in volume, until it sounded like it was coming in all directions.

“That is not a good sign,” Grey’s mutter was nearly lost to the noise.

“Hey,” Drake’s annoyed voice cut in over the comm, “my livestream is now officially ruined! I hope you’re all happy!”

“I’m afraid to even ask why,” Theron said.

“Oh, it seems all of my extremely eligible and single contestants heard your voice over the comms and abandoned challenging Seetoo Enntoo to unarmed droid combat for the right to court you, and are now all headed in your direction.”

“Oops.”

“Worry not Agent Shan,” the unusually warbly vocabulator of C2-N2 came over the comms, “I will not rest until I alone can provide you with the ultimate in comfort!”

“We should probably get a different housekeeping droid after this is all over,” he told his wife.

That seemed a lesser concern to Grey, as she had shifted into Alliance Commander mode, and was currently on the comms, shouting for every available member of the Force Enclave to get to the War Room as fast as possible to help hold off the incoming army of lustful droids.

Yeah, come to think of it, that was probably more important.

“We must use nonlethal force,” she stressed, giving a particularly severe look to Lana when she said that, getting a simple nonplussed shrug in return, “as we only need to hold the droids at bay until we can come up with a solution. They are not to blame for what’s happening.”

Theron begged to differ, but she was probably right in this case. The cost of repairing or replacing an entire base full of droids would be astronomical.

As Force users began to stream in and take up position around the room, the sound of wheels racing along the metal plating caught Theron's attention, and he looked over to see a familiar silver T7-series astromech racing into the room. He tensed up instinctively at the sight of a droid, as anyone would have in his situation.

“Teeseven!” Grey called out with a smile, clearly not as wary or droidshy.

The little astromech let out a friendly whistle and series of chirps in binary, that roughly translated to: “T7-01 = Safe! // Been off network entire morning!”

“Oh, what a relief,” she breathed, “I would have hated for you to be infected with this too!”

He let out another series of beeps: “T7-01 = still in possession of original antivirus code. // Can tweak it and upload to servers = Save the day?”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” Theron muttered.

“T7 = not scared!”

Grey’s expression melted into one of admiration and pride. “Teeseven, that’s incredibly brave -- but are you sure? Theron’s right, it could be very dangerous.”

“T7 = Jedi + Theron’s friend. // Helping > Risk!”

She looked at him and he returned the gaze with a small nod, realizing there wasn’t much in the way of choice. It was either that or let the droids overrun them. And then whatever happened when one of them actually got their hands on on Theron -- a prospect he wasn’t really that thrilled to explore right now.

“Fine,” he said tersely, “let’s do this!”

The two of them rushed over to the center console in the room, Theron pulling out his slicer spike as Teeseven plugged his scomplink arm into the main network terminal. The rest of their reinforcements from the Force Enclave arrived just in time and formed a ring around the two slicers. They managed to erect a large Force barrier just as the metallic clanging and clatter grew to a roar, announcing the arrival of the lecherous horde.

Near the front of the mob, Z0-0M threw up her arms in glee and excitement as she jumped to try and catch sight of her beloved. “There you are Agent Shan! You left before we could finish our conversation -- you were saying something about oxidation?”

“Interjection: Do not listen to this hussy, Theron! You and I will make sweet explosions together!”

Theron valiantly tuned them out as he took in a feed of the original antivirus code that Teeseven shared with him. Yes, this all looked correct. Unfortunately, he was going to need get a look to see how Gault had mutilated his beautiful original coding to know how to alter it.

Teeseven was two steps ahead of him, and a stream of code flashed across the HUD in his ocular implants. He watched in horror as he saw the butchery with his own two eyes.

“Gault, where the hell did you get this code?” he asked over the comms incredulously. “HornHub?”

“Excuse you, I only frequent the classiest places on the galactic communications grid, like HoloHump!” The growl of Gault’s name from a very angry Mirialan smuggler had him quickly adding. “You know, I’m just going to shut up and let you concentrate on what you’re doing.”

Teeseven, ever the valiant worker, ignored the conversation completely, and was hard at work running diagnostics on the altered code and the best way to modify the antivirus to address it. Theron watched the stream of letters and numbers fly across the HUD at lightning speed.

The little guy was good at what he did. He let out a flurry of beeps and whistles as almost the last piece of this very lurid puzzle started to fall into place. The little droid seemed to almost be singing along with the code as he wrote it, like a mechanical maestro conducting an orchestra. They were close, so close and--

The next whistle Teeseven let out was not his normal, cheerful way of communication, much lower in timbre and more seductive.

No.

Teeseven whirled his flat head around until his visual sensor faced Theron, and let out another wolf whistle, his holoprojector lighting up to proudly display: T7-01 🤖👀🔍 Observant 👁️🔭 Scanner 🔍🏞️ Tython 🌄👏 215 🍒♎ Repairing 👅🙈 Top HoloFans 3.6%

“What was that?” Grey shouted to be heard over the droids catcalling.

“No no no no,” Theron muttered, “we’re so close! Don’t do this to me, little buddy!”

“What happened to my precious baby boy?” Grey demanded, sweat trickling down the side of her face as she struggled to maintain the Force barrier.

Beyond the barrier, the rest of the porndroid army followed suit with Teeseven, all either wildly projecting their own series of hologlyphs and random facts about themselves and their planets of origins, while others struck disturbingly seductive poses, and a scant few demanded that “ShanDaddy” start a holocall with them in private.

With no time and no recourse left, Theron dove back into the system, yanking Teeseven’s unfinished code as he was nearly overwhelmed with lewd images and thirsty hologlyphs, struggling to finish and upload the code as the volume in the War Room rose to a crescendo just as the Force users’ began to fall, one after the other, their barrier weakening by the moment.

The overwhelming cacophony of hologlyphs, lewd poses, and robotic come-ons that had filled the War Room suddenly disappeared. All eyes turned to the droids as almost in unison, as they all powered down—a sign that their malware had been neutralized. Theron slumped back in relief, his work finally done.

Grey, Lana, and the others let out a long sigh of relief, the tension leaving their bodies in a rush.

“Thank the Force,” Grey murmured, sinking down to the ground. “I do not think I could have held that barrier much longer.”

Theron nodded, feeling a similar sense of exhaustion. He leaned back against the console, closing his eyes but was unable to banish the mentally scarring series of images that were probably permanently burned into his retinas.

“Remind me,” he said faintly, “to obliterate HoloHump’s servers. Once I’m done murdering Gault.”

“You act as if there will be anything left after I find him,” Lana said darkly.

“Remember everyone,” Grey spoke in her best and most official Alliance Commander voice, “murder is bad and frowned upon in the Official Alliance Employee Handbook.”

“Query: Why are we all in the War Room?” HK-55 asked as he came back online. “And more importantly, why is that blue meddroid manipulating its medical instruments into a heart shape, as if expressing affection towards the Commander?”

100 notes · View notes