#anyways I'm now thinking of the “someone will die” message

[mixolya]

I honestly have no idea how tumblr works so idk if this is where I make requests...

Anyways idea/request for an itoshi sae x reader short story where reader is a well known k-pop idol who was recently caught in a scandal that she took no part in and received lots of hate as a result! She starts losing her appetite and becoming visibly skinnier bc of the hate and sae notices and becomes rlly worried for her!

Srry this is honestly so cringy I js had a random idea and needed someone to write it 😔😔

ᓚᘏᗢ — sae itoshi: stay with me !

synopsis: when a brutal scandal leaves you drowning in public hate and self-doubt, your secret boyfriend sae itoshi refuses to let you face it alone.

sae itoshi x reader ⭑ angst / secret relationship / hurt & comfort cw!!! eating disorder, mentions of suicide + likes & reblogs are appreciated <3

note: this took me a bit long sorry if my writing is washed

sae noticed it first in your texts. the usual stream of messages, your excited ramblings, blurry selfies with a kiss face, little voice notes you sent when you couldn't type fast enough, started to shrink. your replies became shorter, sometimes delayed, sometimes missing altogether. then came the photos, or rather, the lack of them.

you used to send him everything. outfit checks, dance practice clips, the view from your hotel room window when you were touring. now, your camera roll seemed locked away.

he knew why. the scandal, the one you had no part in.

a baseless accusation from an anonymous post had spiraled into trending hashtags overnight. the internet had latched onto your name, twisting narratives, pulling you under with no proof, no defense that seemed loud enough.

he kept waiting for you to fight back. for the usual fire in your voice to return. but it didn't.

and when he finally got you alone on a rare day when your schedules aligned, you were already smaller. not just in weight, but in presence. you looked like you'd folded yourself in, like you were trying to take up less space in the world.

"did you eat?" he asked bluntly, sitting across from you in his apartment. you nodded, picking at the edge of your sleeve. " a little, before practice."

"you're lying," his chest tightened.

you glanced away, lips pressing into a faint smile that didn't belong to you. "i'm fine, sae."

"you're not," he stood, crossed the room in two steps and knelt in front of you. "look at me."

reluctantly, you did. your eyes were tired, rimmed faintly with exhaustion, but it wasn't that which broke him. it was the way you looked afraid. of disappointing him. of being weak in front of him.

"you think i care about some fake scandal?" his thumb brushed over your knee. "you think i'd believe a word of that shit?"

you shook your head quickly. "it's not that. i know you don't believe it. it's just-" your voice cracked. you swallowed it down. "...everyone else does."

"they're just people behind a screen."

"they're people behind a screen who tell me to die."

it hit him like a gut punch. not because you were wrong, but because you said it so.. calmly. like you'd gotten used to hearing it.

you laughed breathless and broken. "isn't it funny? i've spent my whole career trying to make people happy, and now they can't stand me. i can't even remember the last time i finished a meal without thinking about what they'd say about my weight after the whole scandal thing."

his stomach twisted. you'd always been careful with your diet because of your career, but this wasn't careful at all. this was self-destruction. and it terrified him.

"you don't have to finish it for them," he said quietly. "you don't have to do anything for them."

you shook your head. "it's not that simple. i can't just-" you gestured vaguely, frustration rising. "i can't just stop caring. it's my job. my face, my body- it's my brand."

sae's grip on your knee tightened just slightly. "fuck your brand."

your breath caught.

"fuck the people who don't know you. fuck the ones who think they can control you." his voice was low. it was the same tone he used when shutting down reporters. "if you lose yourself chasing their approval, what's the point?"

your lips trembled. "i don't want to lose myself."

"then don't."

"i'm trying-" your voice cracked again. you buried your face in your hands, shoulders shaking. "i'm really trying, sae."

carefully, he reached up, coaxing your hands away from your face. his thumb traced the corner of your eye, catching a stray tear. without another word, sae slid his arms around you, lifting you effortlessly into his chest. you let out a soft gasp, instinctively curling into him as he sat down the couch, settling you on his lap, one hand firm on your back, the other smoothing down your hair.

"you don't have to try alone," he murmured, his voice steady against the storm inside you. "i'm here. i'm not going anywhere."

your fingers clutched at his shirt, desperate for something solid, something that wouldn't slip away like the rest of your world seemed to be doing.

"i'm sorry," you whispered, breath trembling against his neck. "i just.. i don't know how to fix this."

"then don't fix it all at once." he pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there. "just stay. stay with me tonight. start there."

"i don't feel like eating though."

"doesn't matter." his hand rubbed slow circles on your back. "you need to. for yourself, not for them."

you swallowed thickly, the quiet weight of his words breaking down your walls. sae itoshi didn't plead. he didn't chase. but here he was, holding you close, asking you to fight for yourself.

so you nodded, barely, but it was enough for him to pull you even closer, like he was trying to shield you from the world.

"i'll cook."

"you can't cook," you mumbled, your tears warm against his skin.

"i can cook enough," his thumb brushed over your cheekbone. "enough to keep you here."

you gave a small, tired laugh. "you're sooo bad at this."

"at what?"

"comforting people."

he smirked faintly. "never comforted someone, what did you expect?"

his hand slid down, interlacing his fingers with yours.

and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself lean into him. into his warmth, his steadiness, his quiet refusal to let you disappear.

right now, you were safe. you were staying. and sae wasn't letting you go.

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

For the ask game:

🫂- What was your inspiration for your WIP?

🥸- Which character is most like you?

🎻- Where do you look when you need some inspiration?

:D

🫂- What was your inspiration for your WIP? For BDOR, my base inspiration was the LU update where Wild pulled out Majora's Mask. There was an explosion (that is definitely an overexaggerated verbiage, but the fandom was smaller back then) of fics within the fandom, with quite a few of them featuring Time, basically, freaking out at Wild over having the mask. [This one here, by Tashilover, was probably my favorite (Explosive). Go check it out!]

Anyways, I wrote something like that as well at the time, though I never ended up publishing it, and it will not make it into BDOR because it would mess with the plot too much. But I've hung onto that dynamic of, basically, the heroes accidentally traumatizing one another, and also the idea of Wild and Twilight vs the rest, and how that actually plays out. I still have that scene that I wrote (bless 15 year old me) and I may publish it eventually, once I clean it up.

🥸- Which character is most like you?

Wild. My guy. He doesn't know exactly who he is, after the Calamity, and I love him for that. At least how I write him, he's fiercely independent and stubborn and heroic---but he's also, at times, a lost kid with memory issues and horrible insecurity that just needs some guidance. I relate to him <3

🎻- Where do you look when you need some inspiration?

For inspiration, I'll usually read other fics in this fandom, or I'll beta read some of my mutuals. Occasionally I'll look at art, too, we have so many amazing artists in this fandom <3. Just taking in other's works usually gives me ideas on how to push through my own blocks, whether they be from style problems or lack of ideas or whatever.

Thank you for the ask, amayis!

[nobodybetterlookatme]

do you actually not talk to people on here? that's crazy to me coz you're one of the coolest people on snzblr!!

Yeah no I literally only talk to one person in the dms lmao like I've had a couple conversations here and there with other people, but it's really been more like awkward small talk than anything 😅 idk it's just hard to click with people and I feel like the vast majority of us are equally as hesitant to start a conversation, so mostly I just keep to myself

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: It's normal to feel insecure every once in a while. But what would Sylus think of it? You wonder if he'll think that you're too much but you still ask to look through his phone anyway. And he willingly lets you.

Warnings: Low self-esteem and self-doubt, insecurity, jealousy issues (thinking he has other girls), bad relationships (not with Sylus), mentions of stalking (done by Sylus to you), mentions of threat messages.

Author's note: Is this controversial. Idk. I think I'm overbearing, so this is self-indulgent but I hope that it helps if you can relate to it as well. This is based on one of his Destiny Café and affinity level up lines. Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

You had always been a little insecure of yourself. Comparing yourself to others, envying the life they have, wishing to be a different person entirely. All of this had been ingrained into you like heated iron scorching skin, branding itself onto the fragile fabric of your soul. It would be alright, if it didn't consume your being and take the reigns of your mind at the worst of times.

Previous partners always brushed you off when you wanted to speak to them about your troubles. Telling you that it was fine— that they could handle it. Lies. Maybe they would indulge you once or twice, but they would always end up angry at you for being... difficult. Your jealousy is out of control, your clinginess is overbearing, your need for reassurance is exhausting. Always too much, too high maintenance. It all ends sour.

But you can't help it. The need to satiate this overwhelming emotion withers you away. Your desperate want for someone to claim you as their number one— the only one—overrides rationality. Yet you have learned to bite your tongue. Force your words to die in your throat because you never want to be too much. Especially not for someone like Sylus. Sylus who has always been so understanding and patient and you are terrified that this might tip him over the edge.

Sylus, however, notices that you seem rather lost in thought. Although he has been on his phone for quite some time, nothing gets past him. Not your jittery behaviour or the sighs that escape past your lips as if they were the words you wished to convey but held back on. He sees you fiddling with a trinket, some gemstone he left lying around the base that Mephisto probably went for. Switching off his phone, he sets it aside in favour of staring intently at you, two fingers resting on his temple as he leans on his elbow.

“You seem quite fascinated with that pretty gem, sweetie. Has Mephisto influenced you with a crow's instinct?” Sylus teases you, an opening line for conversation.

You jerk, scowling at the man, “Don't compare me to that bird!”

He only chuckles, shaking his head.

“What's on your mind, sweetie?” The tone of his voice shifts, now noticeably softer. So are his eyes.

Sylus is worried about you, it seems. You glance at him, taking in the way he keeps his eyes only on you. Then briefly direct your gaze towards that damn phone of his before looking into his eyes. Vicious scarlet turned lovesick velvet; it engulfs you in safety. Your lip quivers, and you bite down to stop it from doing so. What would Sylus say if you asked to look through his phone? How irritated or annoyed would he be? But his eyes are so warm, and you crave the gentle adoration it drowns you in.

“Can I... look through your phone?” You ask hesitantly, breaking eye contact first.

Well. That was the last thing he expected you'd ask him. He stares at you a little dumbfounded, only briefly, before regaining his composure. He expected a favor, something grand or perhaps requested the impossible from him. Of all things Sylus owns, and you ask for his mobile device. With a quirk of his brow and small tug at his lips, he gestures for you to come closer. When you do, he sits you across his lap, pulling his phone from the coffee table with his evol and drops it off in your hands.

“Go ahead, sweetie. I have nothing to hide from you, only the authorities.”

Sylus is patient when you begin your... search. Throughout all the apps he has; social media, websites, albums, contacts. You find that most of it contains you and N109 business. Pictures of you that you don't recall him taking, candid ones looking away from the camera. Auction sites where he's betting on antique weapons and vintage wine. Messages to Luke and Kieran regarding missions, and sometimes about keeping an eye on you. Ominous ones from others that come in the form of—

“What do the codes mean?” The question tumbles out of you before you fully think it through. Damn you.

His hand envelops yours, scrolling through the messages with his thumb.

“This one, is a location. Some sort of trap, most likely. The one you looked at earlier was a threat. And as for this...” Sylus explains every single one, not even hesitating.

Once you're satisfied, you give him back his phone. There was nothing. No other girl, no secret lover, not a single piece of incriminating evidence. Shame and guilt immediately take root within you. Sylus is not that kind of person, you should have known that. Should have trusted him more and let it be. Why were you like this? Apologize. It's what you need to do now because maybe he thought you were doubting him.

“I'm sorry—” he cuts you off.

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. Didn't I tell you that you have access to all my resources? Including, but not limited to, my phone. You can take a mile if I give you an inch.”

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. Even the tips of your fingers, and a final one on the inside of your palm.

“Next time, you don't need to ask. Just snatch it away from me if you think I'm giving it too much attention. I'll drop anything to show you how much I adore you.” He looks at you, gaze unwavering.

You will never be too much for Sylus. Everything that you have to offer, he will devour like a dog starved. He has been deprived of the intensity of your affections for far too long to be picky. If your love is tender, he will soften himself from metal to clay and be molded by your hands as best he can. And if your love is untamed ferocity he will embrace you with open arms, ready to be ripped apart. It will be alright— Sylus will stitch himself back together if that was what you needed him to do. That is what he will do to love you.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Stuck in the Moment

Fandom: Marvel (CEO AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: It was just supposed to be a regular day at work. But a huge storm hit the city. The power goes out and you're stuck inside the elevator with an incredibly attractive man. So with nothing else to do, you two get to know each other while waiting to be rescued.

A/N: technically, CEO's son AU but whatever

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

You quickly close your umbrella and rush inside. Even with the umbrella and a raincoat, you're still partially drenched.

A storm has hit the city. You hear the occasional roar of thunder and flash of lightning, raindrops pelting against the pavement and windows of your work building.

You flash your badge and walk through security. You shoot a smile to Stan, one of the older security guards, "Keeping warm, Stan?"

"As best as I can, Y/N!" he replies, zipping up his jacket further up towards his neck.

You gather with the group of people in front of the elevators. Two doors open, and people start filing in. Both elevators fill up quick, so you decide to hang back and wait for the next one.

You hear someone approach you and they sigh. A soothing, deep voice follows, "Jeez. Did not mentally prepare myself for this much rain."

You turn your head, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. The owner of the voice is as handsome as he sounds. You chuckle and quickly look away, "I know. Even with my umbrella and raincoat, I still wasn't as prepared for this storm."

"I forgot an umbrella hence," he gestures to his drenched suit jacket.

You snort, "Gotta keep a small, compact one with you at all times around this time of year. Never know when a storm will happen."

"Definitely going to follow your advice," he says with a grin.

The elevator door nearest you opens and he gestures, "After you."

"Thanks," you reply, stepping inside and the handsome man filing in behind you. You press the fifth button while he presses the eleventh.

You can't help but comment, "You must be a high profile person if you're going to the top."

The man shyly shrugs, "I suppose," he nods to the fifth button, "You're in the marketing department?"

"Yup. I'm part of the social media team."

"Ah. You guys get to have all the fun."

You giggle, "It's not all fun, but, yeah, we do like-"

The elevator slows, but not because it's approaching your floor. The light's flicker and the elevator creaks to a halt. Your body sways at the stop. The lights flicker again and then you're engrossed in darkness.

You groan out in annoyance, "Oh come on!"

The man with you takes out his phone and turns the flash on. He faces it to the ceiling, illuminating the elevator, "You okay?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Same," he sighs, "Guess the storm created a power outage. Might be some time until the power comes back or until we're rescued."

"Great."

Your phone starts to buzz and you pull it out of your bag. You answer it, "Kate?"

"Hey! Are you at work already 'cause looks like the entire building is experiencing a power outage."

"Yuuup and I was unfortunate enough to be riding the elevator when the power went out."

"Shit. Okay, what floor are you on?"

"I think we're in-between three and four."

"Oh good, you're not alone!"

"Nope. I'm with-" you pause, and look to the man, "Sorry, I never got your name."

"Bucky."

"Hey, Bucky. I'm Y/N. I'd say 'nice to meet you' but I wouldn't call our current situation 'nice'"

He chuckles, "I get it and likewise."

"Who the hell is Bucky? I've never heard of a Bucky before."

"Not now, Kate. Anyway, I should probably save as much of my phone battery as possible. Keep me updated on the power and such."

"Will do! Stay safe and don't die!"

You snort, "I'll try not to." You end the call and look back at Bucky.

"Since you're probably like an executive or something, do you happen to have contact to any other higher ups about this power outage?"

He nods and gestures to his phone, "Getting several text messages from people. I've let them know we're stuck here and they've already contacted the fire department. But considering the storm and everything, might take them a while to get here."

"So guess we have to get comfortable," you set your bag down and slip off your raincoat. You set it on the floor and sit on it. Bucky looks at you with a cocked brow and you shrug, "What? The floor's wet!"

Bucky chuckles to himself and finds a dry spot in the corner. He slides down the wall to sit on the floor, "So, Y/N from Marketing, tell me your life story." You look at him confused and he shrugs, "Might as well get to know each other since we might be stuck here for a while."

______________________________

Within the first hour, learn that Bucky is the eldest sibling and he has a younger sister. His best friends are named Steve and Sam. He's a huge nerd that loves Star Wars and Star Trek. He went to Columbia University to study business, which is why he's now working here.

You told him about your childhood, that you and your best friend, Yelena, moved to the city for school and ended up staying. You express your passion for social media marketing and, ultimately, how you ended up working for Barnes Co., thanks to Yelena's sister, Nat.

"How long have you been working here?" Bucky asks you.

"It's going to be my two year anniversary in a few months."

Bucky slowly nods, "Can't believe you've been here for two years and I've never seen you around."

You give him a shrug, "It's a big building. Lots of people work here. Besides, you work with the higher ups, so I doubt you'd even see me around."

You take this moment to look over him with the minimal lighting you have. He clearly makes a lot of money from what you can tell. His shoes and suit are obviously designer. Hugo Boss or Armani or something. His watch is definitely a Rolex and probably costs more than your entire life.

Bucky shakes his head, "I know, but I do try my best to get to know everyone who works here. The company is what it is because of everyone who works here, not just the CEO, CFOs, and executives."

"That's nice to hear, Bucky. I mean, I knew that this company really values its employees, but to hear someone close to the top say so, is really reassuring."

He shyly chuckles, "Well, uh, yeah, um," he clears his throat, "So, uh, you seeing anyone?" he winces at how unsmooth that came out.

But you chuckle, "Are you asking me out?"

"Me? No, no. Just, ya know, we talked about our childhood, our jobs, only topic we haven't hit is our love lives. Besides, it'll probably a little bit longer until we're rescued. They're working on getting the people on the first two floors out first." Bucky does his best to be as nonchalant as possible and you find it so adorable. You never expected a guy like him to be a little shy.

"Riiiight. Well, I've dated, been in a few relationships, but nobody's really stuck around for long. Kind of getting tired of the whole dating game, so haven't really put much thought into relationships lately. What about you?"

He nervously rubs the back of his neck, "I, uh, hate to say that I dated around a lot when I was younger. Not super proud of myself for that. But as I grew older, started wanting a more stable relationship. Was in one for a long time with a woman. Thought we were going to get married and everything, but then I found out she stuck around because of my growing wealth so-"

"Yikes."

"Yeah. Went back to dating and sleeping around and it got old again quicker than before. I guess I'm kind of like you, focusing on myself and work. Doing my best to just survive in the world."

You slowly nod, "Well, what a pair we make, huh? I mean, look at us," you gesture to yourself and him, "Stuck in an elevator, sharing our life stories, getting to know each other. Honestly, thought a situation like this would be so much worse, but I'm glad it was you that got stuck with me in this situation."

Bucky laughs, "Same here."

"Buck?" you hear a muffled voice from the other side of the elevator doors.

"Dad?!"

"Yeah, you guys okay in there?"

"We're okay!"

"Good! The fire department's here. They're getting you guys out. Just hang tight!"

"Not like we can go anywhere!" Bucky replies and you laugh. He grins at you as you wait for the doors to pry open.

______________________

The entire building was evacuated. Several people stayed back to make sure everyone was safe. Nat and Kate stayed in the lobby waiting for you to be rescued.

When you exited the stairs door, they rushed over to you.

"Holy shit, are you okay?!"

"Yeah. Me and Bucky just hung out that entire time," you gesture to the man who follows behind you.

Nat looks over your shoulder and her eyes widen, "You were stuck in the elevator with James Barnes?"

"James?" you turn to face Bucky as he approaches you, "I thought your name is Bucky."

He nervously clears his throat, "Uh, well, kinda. Technically, my name is James Buchanan Barnes, but those closest to me call me Bucky."

Your realization has your eyes widen and you take a step back, "You're George Barnes' son."

He sheepishly waves, "Hi."

"Well...that's...cool." You didn't know what to say, honestly. You're a little surprised by the reveal. You quickly go through the info that Bucky shared with you in the elevator shaft. He never mentioned his dad or anything that could hint at the position he holds. He deliberately held that info from you.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Bucky says with a guilty expression on his face.

You shake your head, "No, it's-it's fine. I mean, I knew you worked a high position but didn't think...that high."

He snorts, "Yeah, um, I just hope you don't see me differently."

"Not at all. I met you as Bucky, the sci-fi nerd who sucks at flirting, so that's how I see you."

"Sucks at flirting? Yeesh, guess that's what happens when I haven't dated in a while."

You laugh, "Happens to the best of us."

"Son, you ready?" George Barnes approaches Bucky.

"Yeah," he nods to his dad and looks back at you, "See you around, Y/N."

"See ya," you give him a small wave and turn back to Kate and Nat. They look at you like you grew another head, "What?"

"The son of George Barnes, James Barnes, son of the CEO of Barnes Co., was flirting with you?!"

You scoff, "I wouldn't really say he was flirting with me. More like attempting to flirt. It doesn't matter. Not like he'd actually want to date someone like me," you shrug it off and pull on your raincoat, "Ready to go?"

_____________________

Everyone was working from home the following day to ensure that the building was safe to occupy when the power came back.

The weather is still poor but not as bad as the day before. Still, you decide to step outside, choosing a cafe to work from rather than your shared apartment with Yelena.

You’re answering emails while sipping on a warm beverage when you get a new message on Slack from James Barnes:

JB: You’re looking cozy over there in your corner.

You immediately look around and spot him on the opposite side of the cafe. When your eyes meet his, he gives a wave. He quickly gathers his things and you keep your eyes on him as he moves across the cafe to your table.

“May I join you?”

“If you’d like.”

He sits across from you and you lower your laptop screen, “Not gonna lie, kinda creepy that you did that, Barnes.”

He shyly shrugs, “I guess I really do need to brush up on my flirting hm?”

You giggle, “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“Maybe I can practice with you?”

You give him a coy look, “I guess you can.”

[littlemissmaples]

🎂PICK A CAKE!🎂 II Who is your fs? + General Messages ( this second part wasn't intentional, kinda just happened lol)

Pile 1: 💚

• Your fs is very, very, very "segsy" I hear, haha (I was asked to spell it that way) they're giving me this very calming energy about them. They say "that's my mind baby" they're very flirtatious and could either be black, mixed or middle eastern, perhaps Arabic. This is more of my ethnic pile. I do sense there's the chance one of them has a beard–

Ooooh wait, one of them? Is there 2? Here I'm getting more of a masculine energy here so could it be you're not sure who your fs is and you're just debating what it is that you want? That's alright. I don't think that you're battling between 2 people, I think you're battling between 2 versions of yourself and 2 different ideals. What it is that you want and you think that you need. Or perhaps you might have a misunderstanding of what the kind of guy you want is. I'm getting some of you are in a relationship right now and you feel like things just don't connect. "You're a princess" for some of you, your father treats you well, listen to them because it's true when they say that you deserve better. Or perhaps you're involved in an arranged marriage, I feel that you still have the chance to step away from this it doesn't matter how far along you've been in this game, speak up now or forever hold your peace...

Anyways, I feel that your type is "the bad guy" maybe you like older guys or you currently like an older guy. If not I'm getting some of you, the person that you like is your fs but you're too stuck in your mind, waiting to be saved to realize it, that they're more than happy to develop something with you but while you dont have to take the lead, it's important to take the initiative and let yourself be known, let yourself say that you're interested, it's okay to let yourself be "saved" and pulled away from all of this but only if you tell them, otherwise they're going to keep on sitting back on their motorbike, completely unaware of your feelings. For a lot of you, you already know this person but they havent realized their feelings yet. Spark that initial light and set it all ablaze, they'll follow along and take care of the rest. But you have to communicate, they assume their silence is "self-respect" and they dont see you as a damsel in distress, reflect for sometime and see how you would like to go about all of this.

But in short terms who is your fs??

A guy that you already know that is somehow always on your mind even if you dont think about him much or hold heavy romantic feelings for him at the moment.

But just know this If you need it, he wants me to tell you: "I think about you too." For some of you "I think about THAT" too" perhaps a moment happened between the both of you. Be attentive and careful yes, but ultimately, at the end of this game we call life we all die. So follow your heart, choose your own path and cause a little chaos if you have to. But most of all, make sure you have fun 💛

I'm sorry if I didnt answer your question, but this is what's coming in.

Pile 2: 🧡

• Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Wow! Jeez, your first impression of this guy is going to be bizarre is not jaw dropping. They almost feel like they're a celebrity! If they're not a celebrity I feel like they're like a celebrity-look-a-like, they have a very similar face, tone of voice, even a matter of walking as someone that you like. This might be a singer/song-writter, actor for some or even a YouTube. I'm getting they might be in college and they could be white, I keep seeing Timothee Chalamet in my head but I'm getting he's more of a Tom Holland kind of guy, while your fs looks exactly how you want, he is a little bit more of the masculine kind. And for those of you who are a masc energy reading this I get the sense that, much like my fem readers I get the feeling maybe some of you actually want that "spiderman" type of love or a Tom Holland and Zendaya kind of scene about the two of you. I feel like you might, but I'm also getting that you need to not let yourself fall in a daydream too much, not because you wont have this but because you shouldn't reduce your partners and future romantic relationships into just this. I get the feeling that for some of you, your fs isn't who or how you think they are but they have traits of how believe they could be and what it is that you envision them like. But you should be flexible with this, just a little bit, I promise you'll have your dream come true but for many of you, he may sound a bit "manlier" perhaps you wanted him to have softer, more delicate features and he does but those traits dont encapsulate him entirely and for my fems, perhaps she may not be as tall as you like and maybe she might not hold traits like Zendaya but she's definitely gonna be your type. This energy Is just now coming in but some of you may be lgbt, have many types or simply are poly. That's great! But the same messages apply to you, you'll have your dream! You can have your cake and eat it too! But you have to step back for a minute and reflect for something, who are you? What kind of life do you want? Who do you want to be with? Why? Why not? I'm not saying tear yourself into parts but I'm really getting some of you ( I'm hearing "us" some of you dont separate yourselves from a group and see yourselves as individual persons in society and instead as a "unit" while is great, you are more than that) succumb yourselves to a lot of subcultures or reality just societal ideals of what you believe your life should look like. Take inspiration and make your own life worth living and stop looking at everybody else's as the "perfect guide book" to follow. There is no perfect anything and it's incredibly harmful to yourself and others to believe that there is, you dont know why people are the way they are or what happens behind closed doors. Follow your own path and make something beautiful out of you, even if it resembles somebody else's or looks completely different. Some of you need to come out the closet, haha, (once you feel safe and comfortable to do so of course). I'm been pulling in many directions in this pile so I'm going to cut it here. Know that you are okay and that the path you seek will find you but you need to let yourself realize that you're a unique individual with a mind of their own, let yourself have fun on the path that you walk on and choose if you want this one or not. You can get on an off of it as many times as you want and even choose a new one as many times as you like.

In short words, who is your fs? For some of you, you dont want a future spouse, you just want a life partner and a friend a you will find that, you will find the people who match you and fall into the right place. – For others of you, know that your future spouse is currently looking for you and they are exactly as you envision, if not better. The only thing about them is that you might have a couple traits off such as their nose or skin tone and perhaps ethnicity. They might have some "imperfections" as well that you might not think of, maybe they have braces and for some of you I'm hearing "knee surgery" so it's likely one of them has had an injury and either has a scar they're worried about or they have a slight subtle awkwardness to their walk. Dont worry so much about this, some of you overthink about these imperfections and for many of you I'm getting they're not even there and you're just anxious, I promise you'll be okay, haha. The universe knows your heart and it is good and full of love and that love will go into the right hands. You'll be alright, now go rest your pretty head, some of yall have been up all night 💤💤

Pile 3: 💜

• Wow. I cant even tap into your energy, I just tapped immediately into theirs. This personal is serious, this person means BUSINESS maybe even HAVE a business. They're not playing, they seriously want a commitment. I'm getting that they're a "hot mess" but they may just be very passionate. Much like pile 1 this personal may be black, if male brown skin, tall, tall, tall~ and very endearing gentle eyes. If she's a woman then by LORD she's gorgeous, likely darkskin, clear skin, lip gloss and possibly Christian, she takes her faith very seriously but as serious as she may be or come off she's actually so silly and goofy and just the sweetest soul to have around. She wont play about you. This won't apply to all of you but for some of you this person might be mixed and freckled or a red head, possibly a July Leo (or this might just be you) though this is for a few of you so take only what resonates. Your fs is very well read and well spoken, they're very educated although I'm getting for some of them they never went to college, for a few of you though they already have their masters or are on their way of getting it. They might have a similar background to you and or have the same political beliefs. Honestly what I'm getting from this is almost like a "background check" kind of vibe haha, they're like handing me a clip board and having me be your middle man and "vet" for them, I feel like you might be "hard to approach" or you dont just let ANYBODY in your energy like that, you dont just give anyone YOUR time of day and they're aware of that so they're not playing ANY games and getting straight to it and letting you know straight away why they are a great candidate for being your one and only partner. Although I am getting that they are kind of "flawed", not flawed as in bad but flawed as in, they come off as perfect but I believe you may somehow see through it, that while they are very confident and self sufficient and honestly, very, very, very remarkable, reliable and most of all loyal and dependable, they genuinely are a great catch..while you know all this you also know how they seem to be missing a piece of themselves, theres a loneliness in this and it's very gentle, very tender and childlike. They're very mature but ultimately, they just want love. They want love at it's rawest, purest form, they want to be infatuated with you, by you, lost in you, they want to crave you and admire you and receive at least fraction of that same love as well if possible. They're are a hopeless romantic and altho they may not show it at first I feel like you'll get that first wall to crumble without much effort, the rest of it will simply just dissolve the moment you're finally with them. This person wants something serious and if it applies for some of you even marriage and children or both. But even if you dont want this, it doesn't matter because they only see you and not a check list of things to cross out. They want to share something true with you and see how it blossoms into something beautiful.

This one has heavyyyyy 18+ messages in them, it was hard to hold back from typing them but for a lot of you before you go off doing the do with this person know that they are INTOXICATINGGGGG and soooooooo irresistible and they treat you sooooo so good so WRAP IT UP!!! BECAUSE THE TWO OF YOU HAVE VERY MATCHING ENERGIES AND ARE VERY VERY FERTILE SO IF YOURE NOT USING SOME KIND OF CONTRACEPTION (birth control, condom etc) YOU  W I L L  HAVE BABIES!!! 🍼👶🍼👶😭😭

Safe sex = Great sex, take care now✌

(I'm being so serious, wrap it up, some of yall dont listen, I get the heat of the moment might be fun or take you in but babies are a serious 18 year long commitment and if you're not ready for that please don't be hard headed and keep you and your partner safe. Thanks!! That's all bye! 💛💛💛)

[charlybvnny]

Michael's final moment

A Michael_Beloved animatic about his final moments, because he is an underappreciated character, and has so much potential.

A ramble about him under cut.

TWs:

- bugs

- bones

- talk of death and decay

- I think there is a slight flash but I'm unsure? So flashing warning just in case

michael is an underated npc / character and people should utilise his dynamic more often. i will explain:

he's stuck, he has nothing to do, nothing he can do. because he's an npc, his life will never begin because he's not living. people overlook him and don't pay him mind, his own parents don't pay attention to him. it's not that they don't love him, they do, they just don't have the time nor ability to look after him, atleast not properly.

people treat him more like a glorified pet because he is still an npc, no one should, realistically, love him like a son, at most he is a pet. but he's one of, if not the only, npc on the dsmp that is canonically considered a son, not a pet. shroud is technically a pet, yoghurt is i think considered fundy's son? but if you check on the wiki, michael is the only one of actual listing and not just an addition of another. michael is his own person, and yet is still an npc. he can't do anything, and yet is his own someone. he is someone, not someone's addition. he's not tubbo's son, or ranboo's son, he is michael.

and yet he's still stuck in his room. still stuck having to go along with other people's wills. because he is code. he can't do anything but follow his code.

and so with the charactarization of michael, making him his own person, it allows him the ability to think, yet not do. "i think therefore i am" and yet he can't think. not actually. he still has to follow his code. if you hit him, he must attack back, its in the code. so you can characterize and personalise michael all you want, give him hopes, and dreams, give him depth, but in the end, he is an npc. he can't leave his room, he can't make friends, he can't go explore. he is stuck in his room. just like how rapunzel is stuck in the tower.

in this essay i will explain why michael's song is "when will my life begin"-

[shots fired i bleed out as someone drags my body away]

Ok but in actuality, the rotting aspect of Michael is so great for potential in fics;

michael can be used in fics and i'm heartbroken people don't. see, michael is a zombie piglin, he is quite literally rotting. he is a sick, dying child of neglect and no one uses this to their advantage. do no fic writers see the potential devestating catastrophe of michael? how angsty it could be if he's used right?

I like Michael, can you tell 🥺

And you don't even need him to be a piglin in fics either, he could be a dying plant, or an injured yet beloved pet. He has potential please people listen to me 😭🙏

You can make him disability rep, please I love disabled characters in fics (if done right) and there's so much potential here.

I was messaging my friends while making this too, and I was shattering their very souls with my angst, and the thing is, you can shatter your friend's souls with angst too! Please use Michael, even if he's just a side character in your fic, if you got Tubbo, or Ranboo, please include Michael in some form, like a melted candle, or a torn doodle.

Anyways continuing on with angst!

They say the eyes are the route to the soul, and I like to think piglins only die when their souls are damaged. Only when their light fades.

Michael's usually twinkling eyes, now dull and a sullen blue, holding nothing but pure sorrow, and childish hope now shattered. His parents aren't coming. No one is coming. He's going to die alone. He's going to die, without embracing his parents one last time.

His body so decayed and rotten his ribs are fully out, spiders finding a new home where his once beating heart of love was, and yet he allows them to stay, allowing the bugs to feast on his carcass, because it's something. It's another being simply touching him. And so he lets the bugs eat his dying self, because at least it's something, a distressing comfort to accompany his final moments.

He's not alone. Not yet. It's fine. He's not alone. He won't die alone.. he thinks with his last thoughts, salty tears prickling his eye as he tries to comfort himself, just as his parents would if they were here.

I hope you cry, I hope you sob, I hope those silvery drops of sorrow prick your eyes and roll down your cheeks. If you are angry at me, perhaps you should scream into the bottomless pit of my soul, maybe a shard of guilt might scream back one day. Today's not the day though.

[shanastoryteller]

happy valentine’s day! could i get something pjo or hades?

a continuation of 1

Sally doesn't understand. "But where's my son?"

His face crumples before smoothing back out.

"Not that you're not my son!" she says hurriedly. Gods, he's going to grow up to look so much like his father. He's going to grow up powerful, which is something Poseidon had warned her about and she thought she'd taken it seriously, but now her almost adult son is in front of her and there's a presence to him that she'd clocked as his father's just as much as his hair and the breadth of his shoulders. "But. My son. When you go back to the future, he'll come back, right?"

"Mom," he starts, then presses his lips together. "I don't know."

She slowly lowers herself onto Percy's bed. Onto her Percy's bed. "Where is he now?"

"If he's still here, he's probably in the underworld," he says.

If. If. Her eyes burn. She'd just been wishing that Percy wasn't seven anymore, but she hadn't meant this.

"I have to go," he says, clearly trying to speak gently to her. "I'll try and find out, okay? I'll send you an Iris message."

"But," she starts, looking up at him. What's she supposed to do? Her son's gone. Her son's right in front of her, but he's leaving too.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to her forehead like he's the parent. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm really sorry."

~

Percy thinks he might have killed himself.

He tries not to think about it as he dive into the Atlantic, the water surging over and around him as it propel him exactly where he wants to go.

This is a mission that he's not going to survive. He'd known that from the beginning. Persephone had warned him that his life would be forfeit before he'd done it.

He should have listened. He should have taken a single second to think it through before he'd accepted, even if he would have done it anyway, even if it felt like the only option left.

When he'd sat across from Persephone, her clothes black with mourning and a crown she didn't want on her head, he'd already been dead. So it couldn't be his life that was the cost. It had already been paid.

Now his mom is going to have to mourn him twice over. Maybe even three times over, when he dies here too. He's such a terrible kid. She deserves better. Estelle wouldn't do this to her.

Why the hell had she had a kid with a god? They all die young.

He sneaks through the patrol of Atlantis with ease. He knows the schedules and the patterns and nothing is really meant to keep him out anyway.

The armory, the most guarded part of the kingdom, opens at his first touch.

He's a loyal son of Poseidon. Nothing here is forbidden to him.

Granted, that's because they don't know to ward against him specifically, because he's supposed to be ignorant and seven and demigod children don't typically just go strolling into their parents domain.

Riptide is currently with Charon and ironically he'd have a much harder time stealing from him than his father. He walks the length of the armory, eyeing the tridents but moving on. If he wants to keep his parentage a secret, then that's definitely not the way to go.

He goes through about a dozen swords before finding one that feels loose and easy in his hands. It's a bit flashier than Riptide, emeralds along the hilt and interlocking silver patter worked in alongside the bronze.

Paper doesn't do so well underwater, so he scrapes in an IOU into the place the sword had been. Someone's going to notice it missing pretty quickly either way. His dad if he's lucky, Triton if he isn't, but he doesn't have the time to worry about it.

There are three kids out there who are going to need some help getting to Camp Half-Blood in one piece.

[ssa-dado]

Hi! So following up from your (incredible) breakdown of Hotch's apartment, I've always wondered why stayed in the apartment to raise Jack after Foyet/100 and I'd love to hear your thoughts about it!

Obviously, his and Haley's marital house was out after everything but the same apartment he got stabbed in is wild to me and to then to Jack who was held hostage by the guy who stabbed Hotch by the dining table? I get if it was for security with less points of direct entry but Foyet got in??? Is there a garden or green space for Jack to play in? Does Hotch do a background check on all new tenants?

Anyway, this is not anti-apartment slander because I happily live in one myself but I'm so interested in why Hotch would since he clearly has the means (Rolex watches are not cheap lmao) and this feels like the right platform to discuss it haha what do you think?

Breaking down Hotch's apartment layout until someone from Criminal Minds slides into my DMs with the damn floorplans: (The Empire Strikes Back)

I’ve thought about this a lot (maybe too much) and I honestly believe Hotch stayed in that apartment building for a mix of reasons. It’s not just one thing. Maybe one factor weighed heavier than the others, but ultimately, I picture him doing one of those classic pros and cons lists, like the fussy man he is, and letting the whole picture guide the decision... does it make sense??

Now, if we look at the architectural typology of his building, we know it follows a comb-plan layout - meaning it features two semi-enclosed, semi-public green spaces that are open toward the street. (I even made a little sketch to visualize it because I’m a visual learner... Like, I don’t know what “Hotch’s hands” means until I see them. Someone please send references...pls???)

That said, the green spaces aren’t the reason he stayed. Sure, the building has them, but they’re likely shared among all tenants, mostly decorative, and maybe even off-limits in terms of actual use (some buildings do that.. yikes). Plus, they’re super open to the street, which means they’re not really safe or private enough for Jack to play in.

So I don’t think the green spaces themselves were the selling point.

I think he stayed because of the overall architectural quality of the building. It's a historic structure (from mid 1920s-1930s??) that’s been carefully restored, updated with 21st-century systems and amenities, and built with high-quality materials and finishes. Maybe there’s a park nearby where Jack can actually play safely. Maybe it’s closer to his school. It also doesn’t strike me as a suburban area, which could be another plus - city life offers access to public transportation, shops, cultural spaces, sports activities… all of which might've played into the decision.

I am so so so so here for this headcanon and I fuck so much with the background check idea because yes, he absolutely asked Garcia for help and no, he doesn’t think that was an overstep. It was a precaution. For Jack.

Also, I’m convinced he’s very active in the tenant community.

He’s the one who created the condo group chat - no one asked him to, but it’s impeccably organized, with pinned messages and!!! a color-coded spreadsheet of recycling days (I'm European, this is wired into my DNA, sorry) he made himself at 3 a.m. on Excel. He barely answers texts from his team, but the second someone reports “unusual noises near the trash chute,” he’s replying in 0.3 seconds with “What time? Which floor?”

Sure, he’s fussy about noise (especially when he’s actually home) but he’s also the one everyone turns to when the building manager starts power-tripping or the garbage hasn't been collected. You’ve got a broken washing machine? Hotch already emailed the landlord and the building’s legal obligation clause. Trash not yeeted? He’ll yeet it himself. The man has a complex Google Drive dedicated to tenant rights #prosecutor!Hotch

I will die on the hill he is a chatty grandma. Sure, he’s serious, but he knows everyone’s business, and somehow people trust him with their extra keys and gossip. He's fbi, he's cunty, he has great hair... hello???

(Like, you knock on his door and say, “Sorry to bother-” and he’s already saying, “Your cat escaped again? He's in apartment 127, do you need anything else?”)

Another reason I think he stayed in that apartment is because, most likely between s3 and 4, he started spending some time there with Jack. I’m not sure how the co-parenting with Haley worked logistically, but I can easily imagine him having Jack over on weekends when he wasn’t working, or at least trying to carve out that time. And that apartment became part of Jack’s routine, part of what "home" felt like to him, Hotch probably couldn’t bring himself to move.

I don’t think Hotch stayed there for himself. Psychologically of course, it’s not the healthiest choice (he was literally stabbed there by Foyet) but it is the best choice for his son. And unless you’re talking about his job, Jack always comes first.

And Hotch… Hotch always comes last.

I think he bottled everything up. I don’t even think he fully let himself consider that the apartment might be an unhealthy place to stay in. If the thought of moving did ever cross his mind, I’m almost certain it wasn’t about him. It wasn’t “I don’t feel safe here,” it was: What if someone breaks in again? What if Jack’s here? What if it happens when I’m not home?

He stayed because Jack knew that place. Because changing homes again would be another loss. Another shift. Another instability. And Hotch would rather carry the weight of that trauma alone than risk making his son feel displaced.

Sooooo... yep. That's it. I guess.

Thank you so so so so much for the ask!!! I'm so so so curious to know what are YOUR! thoughts!!

[fatedpluto]

"Everyone Adores You, At Least I Do,"

Octavian x Popular!Greek!Reader

warnings: none summary: nobody understands why reader likes Octavian. Like at all. Annabeth sets you guys up for the sake of saving the world. pov: 2nd person

-

You have no trouble making friends. And this goes for everyone. with the rest of camp, you found making friends to be a breeze. Percy? You guys made fast friends when he arrived at camp, same with Annabeth. You'd managed to befriend Clarisse, someone you can rely on now. The Stoll brothers... Leo, Piper, Jason... you knew everybody. Then, you landed at Camp Jupiter with the rest of your camp, and you barely broke a sweat. Reyna? Sure, she didn't trust you at first, but you wormed your way into her heart. Frank and Hazel? They loved you too.

Then, there was Octavian. Octavian tried so hard to hate you, really, he did, but you made it fucking impossible. You were a Greek, clearly scheming and plotting against him, but your scent, your smile, the way you spoke.. it was all perfection. Honestly. Damn you. The way you spoke to him, too, made him feel ridiculously giddy. Like sure, your voice was nice and you were well-spoken, but the way you called him 'darling', 'sweetheart', not even romantically, just in general, made him blush.

Sure, you called everyone that, but it felt so nice when it was towards him, he couldn't help but want to get your attention.

"[Y/N]!" He'd run up to you, and everyone would groan. You shot them a glare. You just wanted them to be nice! Octavian was your friend too, even if everyone else disliked him.

"You wouldn't believe what I saw! It was a prophecy, I'm sure of it, clear as day! Something or other about spilled red and feasting! I think it's the laestrygonians, personally, and if there's a monster threat-" He'd ramble, and you'd listen, even though everyone else around you seemed to be snoozing. You didn't have to, really, but you'd listen. "-anyways, what do you think it could be about? I'm all ears," he grinned, your friends looking at him, unimpressed.

They could see what he was doing- hogging the spotlight you gave, the way you made anyone you were speaking to feel important. It fed Octavian's ego. They shouldn't blame him, honestly, they understood, but they just don't get why you let him. Why you were even his friend? They didn't understand it, and they didn't pretend to. And then, when you confided in people about your budding feelings for him, they definitely didn't get it.

"Of all people?" Percy asked one day, leaning against a column as you tied your shoelace. You stopped to look up at him, cheeks rosy, his gaze returning with confusion. Sighing, you returned to tying your shoes.

"I can't explain it. He's charming, and he makes me feel like everything. Like I'm some perfect masterpiece, instead of just another clumsy demi-god."

This just seemed to confuse Percy more, who wasn't able to fathom the idea of Octavian making anyone but himself feel good about themselves.

"And what happens when we have to go home? When we hopefully don't die on Hera's crazy quest and return to New York?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead."

That was a lie. You felt grateful Annabeth wasn't here, because she would've been able to pick up on it in a heartbeat. Rising to your feet, you leaned on the column across from Percy, arms crossed, feeling the wind on your arms. You'd been thinking about that constantly, painfully, obsessively. You knew you wanted to go to New Rome University if this whole 'uniting the camps' thing worked out, not just for Octavian, but because you wanted to have a community that got you. You'd never really had that before. But before New Rome? It's not exactly like you could just call him, demi-gods didn't use phones. And the Romans didn't use Iris messages, either.

"Could mail him."

"Mail him?"

"Could be romantic."

Percy's lips pursed, thinning into a line, and your gaze began to linger on his shoes. Anywhere but his eyes.

"You're right, it's a stupid idea. I won't ask him out."

The wind had stopped now, and for the moment your eyes flickered back up to Percy's, you could've sworn you saw regret in his eyes as you accepted a one-sided, unfruitful pining. Percy thought, seeing that look in your eyes, that maybe it was worth it. Annabeth would've gotten a better read, but maybe if you asked him out, you could have something like Percy and Annabeth did.

So, you let yourself pine, not acting on your feelings. The few people you had told were shocked you hadn't gotten over him, that you'd spend days pining for Octavian of all people. Like it was so shocking that you could be that gone for someone the entire camp hated. Respected? Yes. Liked? No. So, it was especially annoying when Annabeth had decided to come up to you.

"You have to get over Octavian." She spoke flatly, poking you in the chest. A look of annoyance crossed your face, lip curling as you wondered where she got the nerve to demand such a thing. "It's going to jeopardise the quest. He's not worth it."

You were starting to get sick of everyone's opinions. Everyone loved you, everyone hated him, so what? You liked him enough. You liked the way he followed the rules, upheld them, valued tradition so much. You liked the way he didn't use animal sacrifices, that he used emotional sacrifices instead. You liked the way that even though their connection was faint, he still honoured his ancestor, Apollo. Sure, you were a demi-god with a much stronger relation to your demi-god parent, but even when his wasn't that strong, he made time to try to bring honour to him. You liked the way he'd run up to you and ramble, or the way he'd try and make your life that much better.

"He is worth it," You snarled back, trying to keep your cool. You couldn't yell at Annabeth, that would actually jeapardise the mission.

"No, he's really not."

Why was it surprising you actually liked him? Why was it such a shock? Why wasn't he worth the months of separation that would come after the world was saved? Why was it surprising that you adored him? Why was it surprising Octavian might have the capacity to adore him back? You couldn't help yourself. You had to bite.

"Why do you get to make that call, Annabeth? You brought us to a foreign camp that is clearly uneasy with our arrival when we could've just took Percy and left. When I find someone who actually makes me feel comfortable here, which is, let me remind you, 2 and a half thousand miles from my family, and I have to come to terms with the fact I might never see them again, my emotions aren't justified? Don't you remember how upset you were when you thought you'd lost Percy?"

And Annabeth knew you'd take the bait.

"Octavian is so wonderful, he's literally one of the only people who has ever successfully made me feel good about myself. I love his rambling and his weird divination methods and the way he wants everything to follow the rules and be perfect! Why is the fact that losing him would be a bad thing so.. so foreign?"

You had done exactly what Annabeth had wanted. You'd, in very clear terms, stated that you not only liked Octavian, but why you liked him, what you liked about him.

"You can take the hat off now."

And then, Octavian was next to her, silently handing Annabeth's cap back to her. It had been a trick, right from the beginning. Percy had said something to Annabeth, and clearly she'd been scheming. You began to cool down, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cool water over you.

"I wanted the camps to unify. Octavian is our least willing camper, and you'd been disengaged since Seaweed Brain had talked you out of asking him out. So," Annabeth stepped back, "I had to give you both a reason to participate, didn't I?" She grinned and walked away, leaving you and Octavian staring at each other in awe.

Octavian was ecstatic. You! You liked him! You were like.. the only person who actually cared about him, and oh, you liked him.

"You mean that?" He asked with a shimmering hope in his eyes. An insane sort of grin spread onto his face as his ego inflated ridiculously. HAH! [y/n] liked him!

"Of course I do," You mumbled softly, still sort of coming down from that angry high Annabeth had given you. She knew what to say to get you talking, damn her. You'd have to thank her later.

"Oh." He spoke softly, fixing his toga and his hair. "Well, if you would care to join me, perhaps tonight? We could go to a restaurant, perhaps? Save your drachmas, I'll pay," He spoke regally, proudly, as if he'd just accomplished something great.

You did like the sound of him offering to pay.

"I can tell Reyna you won't be at dinner. We won't be at dinner. Because we'll be at dinner. Together." He spoke gleefully through his pride. "Trust me, you'll love it. Only the finest for you,"

Blushing, you thought, 'maybe saving the world can wait if the rest of the summer is like this.' His eyes lingered on your face, swelling with pride as he noticed how he made you blush. He did that.

"I'll be there,"

-

1,581 words.

[gnohomotho]

Hello! Gonna be veeeery honest because this request is extremely personal and you ABSOLUTELY don't have to do it if it's too weird or something you don't wanna write 🙈🙈🙊

But like...the recruiter meets the femreader because she wants to end it (yeah that way) and plays with her for it instead..but he actually cares about her and doesn't want her to die 💔 Ik it's ooc I know it's stupid but I'd really really really appreciate it

Thank you and I love your writing so much! ❤️❤️❤️

Hello, Anon, of course it's alright. I hope I'm not the one being personal and intruding here - just a bit worried about you - if you want to drop into my messages and talk, that's more than alright, too. ♥

And no, it's not stupid. It's a very understandable thing to want to read when you're not doing well. :c Having a caring presence save you from the literal edge is - again - more than understandable.

Here you go. ♥

And a big computer hug from me.

.

.

.

Two Lives on the Table ➴ಇ

Pairing: The Salesman // The Recruiter x fem!reader Summary: She wants to leave, he doesn't seem too eager to let her go. No, this lady in her strong but crumbling suit of armour is something for him to play for - yet - he may be playing for more than himself as she finds...that perhaps someone truly, in their own, very sweet and very odd way, cares for her. Warnings: Angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of death, guns, loaded guns, firing guns, threat and consequences of death, 18+ MDNI, heavy personal contact, kissing, touch, teasing, harsh language. Word count: 1.8k A/N: You'd think I'd let you go without fluff? On this blog? Link to epilogue ฅ^._.^ฅ Gorgeous gif by @phantom-evil

"Do you trust me?"

The voice circles your ears and kisses their opening.

"Not really, no."

Your answer is as dry as a bone.

"Good," the voice coos before continuing:

"You don't need trust to play."

You straighten your back to avoid a shiver running down it.

"I find this game unfair."

The voice moves, circling to your other side, gently warming your temple.

"Good."

The shiver sauntered down your spine without issue.

"Has anyone ever told you you're an unhinged lunatic?"

"Many times," you can hear him smile into the words as they coil around his lips like honey, "though you know what they say. Dead men tell no tales."

"Is that why you never shut the f---"

"Ah ah ah. Little lady. That's a bit unbecoming." He hushes you, a single finger resting on your lips. His thumb traces their outline before laying in their center.

Why you agreed to play a game with this near stranger in a secluded place is starting to weigh at you. Almost as much as the blindfold.

He nudges your lips to open and his thumb gently rests on the border. Never quite intruding. But intruding nonetheless.

"Alright. Look. Stranger. Mr. Stranger. I know molesting girls you find on bridges under the guise of a game must be as fun as it is predictable, but I expected something different. Something more fun."

Oh, now you've offended him.

Attacks of character? No issue.

Attack of his games? Now you've done it.

The voice doesn't change, but the air loses every molecule of warmth it had huddled against its bare chest.

"Then allow me to make it more fun than your little wager with Death."

❥❥❥

You swallow on an empty dry throat. Did you really want to die? Or were you just playing? Or were you just...tired?

"You remind me of my favourite film," you voice in a low whisper.

You don't feel his breath anymore. But you do hear a distinct *click*.

"Hmm?" He voices, half amused, half bored.

"A young man who's been through enough meets Death, who is to take him. Fetching fellow, that one. Death. Nice calves. Anyway. The young knight says that before Death can take him, he has to play chess. And win."

"Does he?"

"It's never that easy, is it, Mr. Stranger?"

"Oh, little armoured darling. Do you think yourself a knight?"

"No, I just like Death."

"Then open wide, maybe he'll pay us a visit."

You do as you're told, and your lips feel the outline of a cold circle that tastes like…harsh metal.

“Good girl.”

He pushes the barrel of the gun just a little further as his sentence concludes, lightly turning it in your mouth. Left to right. Left...to right.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of mumbling into it, but your breaths are hurried, and a small whimper escapes your occupied lips.

Did you hear him sigh?

Just as elegantly, he slowly pulls the gun out of your mouth, and you cough.

“Innovative.”

“You know, I think we both know I can see straight through you, Y/N. Your cards are huddled up to your chest, but they’re…” he brushes the cold steel against your chin and runs it up your cheek, softly pushing into it, lenient pity in his voice that you know is false.

“…All turned the wrong way around. The whole table can see.”

His hot breath circles your cheeks, he must be gazing right at you with only millimetres separating his lips from yours.

“The whole table except for you, little lady. Blind to the game and blind to the threat. Blind even to yourself.” He playfully pushes three taps into your cheek with the gun and you feel warmth on your other, from your jaw to your eyebrows, even through the blindfold. It’s almost…kind.

His hand. His hand is on your cheek, as the gun pushes into the other.

“Now, let’s play a game.”

❥❥❥

Two bullets. One gun.

Two bullets. One blank.

Two players. One blind.

Two choices. Both wrong.

“Choose a bullet for me, little lady.” His slick voice rings in your ears.

“Who shoots who?” You try to remain steady, hands firmly clasped into each other, wondering how far he is from you, where you are, and what the table in front of you must look like.

How fast you could flip it on him and run.

“Well, curious little thing you are…I’ll leave it up to you. If you choose to shoot me and the bullet is blank, I get something in return.”

“Jesus, you’re predictable.”

But your voice is shaking. Anticipation? Cold fear? Armour crumpling?

“And you’re unravelling. If you don’t shoot, I get the gun. And I get to pull the trigger.”

“And I get a favour,” you add, your trembles not matching your thoughts.

Though by now the favour would likely be ‘fucking shoot me already’.

“Now who’s being predictable?” He teases, but you hear he must be having some sort of fun from his voice alone. It’s almost jovial, light, if he were anybody else, you would seek warmth in it. But you don’t. A painting of a fire underwater, that’s all he is.

You place your hand on the table, gently laying your fingers across each new inch to feel for the bullets and not disturb them.

He’s entirely silent, perhaps watching your fingers so softly touch even in their shivers, meticulous, elegant, gentle – perhaps he’s thinking you’re taking too long. You don’t care.

Your fingers find the two shapes, as you nudge them and envelop them in touch, you feel there is no discernible difference. Well, there goes the plan.

 Left right left right.

I had a good home but I left, right…left.”

You pick that one and softly flick it towards the sound of his voice. The bullet rolls on the flat surface with a little dull *clink* and lands against what must be his hand.

He loads the bullet wordlessly, the magazine spins and you lift your palms as if expecting something delicate and fragile, you’re weary of holding the gun, even through your tough words.

“So polite, it’s quite lovely to see.” He coos his little lullaby of words that barely reach you, and as he lays the gun just as carefully in your hands, you feel a single finger brush the knuckle of your dominant hand’s trigger finger. Not much.

Just enough to make you falter.

Your breath is stuck in your throat, your lungs aren’t getting enough, and you want to be done. You want to be tired of it all. You want to hesitate and refuse and throw the gun at him. Not shoot. Reset the whole scene. At the same time…

It took you less than a second to connect the two moves.

Aim. Fire.

The sound fills your ears and your heart beats as if it were a sleeping bellringer just now aware it’s the full hour.

The sound woke you up and you tear off your blindfold, nothing but regret and shame on your mind, you couldn’t have shot him, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, no no no, no matter who he is, you don’t murder people he didn’t even hurt you no---

But you tear off your blindfold to a swift blur of both light and dark, so fast you fall back in your chair with a heavy weight pinning you down, sudden crude touch circling your nape and without warning, cool supple flesh connecting to your lips – his own.

Their smooth warmth traverses the entirety of your mouth from outer corners to the very centre, their brisk but no longer concealed hunger enveloping them fully as he pulls you in.

A large hand shoots around your neck, not quite pushing, merely resting on your rapid pulse and holding you in place. One final thrust of his body against you as you feel his tongue enter your mouth and the blur hushes, your eyes closing on their own, reciprocating its motion, holding onto him for dear life.

The anticipation, the fear, the relief – all expressed and all barely breathed between your intertwined lips, your own gasping body, his form over you and his hand tightening around your throat – momentarily leaving to brush through your hair and pull your head back – allowing his tongue ever deeper into you.

Exploring, taking, feasting, you feel both subdued and his – and you feel alive.

❥❥❥

“You…you could have…said the favour was a kiss.”

You barely manage words against your explicitly not steadying chest. The blindfold is back on and you’re glad at least half of your truly flushed cheeks aren’t on display. He seems far calmer from his voice alone, but you know what you felt. Oh, he’s at least half as fucked as you are.

“I am not one to kiss and tell. Choose another bullet.”

It almost sounded like an order.

Alright, perhaps twenty-five percent as fucked as you are.

You once more choose the one on the left.

“Never was one for variety," you try to chuckle, but it comes out dissembled and half cut off. You’re shivering.

He merely hums and loads the gun again. You’d give quite a bit to know what he’s thinking. Your heart is fluttering out of your chest and your breath keeps getting stuck in the same place he grabbed your throat. As if he were grabbing it for dear life.

The magazine spins once more and once more; you take it in your hands with care. You could take it with less consideration, but somehow, the weight of the gun seems…heavier.

You endeavour to do exactly the same as before but…you cannot.

Your finger brushes the trigger, but does not move to push. Your lips open a tad, his taste still upon them – sweet, poisonous, invigorating, life-giving. And here you are. Holding something to take life away.

Just two movements, like before.

Easier than opening an unlocked door.

But you cannot. And your hesitation is more the duly noted.

Wordlessly, he takes the gun back from your hands and you hear the safety click.

Your thoughts stop.

Your heart almost follows suit.

You stop breathing.

The silence envelops you, but you do not move nor fight. Merely open your lips just noticeably, drawing a small shallow breath.

“Thank you for a…pleasant game, Mr. Stranger,” you whisper slowly, softly, holding your hands to yourself with each finger intertwined, “never could play chess to save my life.”

You almost laugh bitterly to yourself. But end with a wistful smile in wait as the thickness of each passing second rings your ears hollow.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

❥

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

❥

One.

Two.

Three.

❥

*click*

❥

Dull.

Reverberating.

Empty.

❥❥❥

He had taken the live bullet out.

[evilwriter37]

Mary's "Dear Arthur" letter from RDR2 type of letter from Viggo to Hiccup after Triple Cross saying like:

"To my dear Hiccup,

I suspect this will be the last time I will address you as such. I have written this letter as a last goodbye of sorts. After we infiltrate Johann and Krogan's base of operations, there is an exceedingly high chance I will not leave with you once we finish. If it is any consolation, I wouldn't have it any other way. You were a brilliant opponent and worthy adversary whose mind could rival my own. It is in my sincere belief you will defeat them, after all, you had bested me time and time again.

I am currently writing this, as you and your dragon lay beside the fire. I can only hope to commit your beautiful features to my memory so I may pass on happily to Valhalla. Not peacefully, you never gave me peace, you, Hiccup Haddock III, run rampant in my mind. It is almost humourous how I prefer this. You gave me no end of trouble, even towards to the end of my own life. One might call this suicide note in certain contexts, but I have thought it out considerably and I would be glad to give my life for yours.

(I don't feel like writing more because I'm on my phone 💔 but knowing viggo he could fill many pages singing hiccup's praises) (if i ever feel like writing this again I'll be in your inbox again!) (Or if you want to write this yourself lol)

I should hope to see you in Valhalla eventually, but until then,

Your best adversary,

Viggo Grimborn."

If this is like ooc sorry I'm running off the fumes called fanon. Hiccup finding this letter from a terrible terror at the edge or something he gets it somehow and he gets to reminisce about Viggo and the absolute confidence he had in Hiccup. I imagined the letter being more angsty but then it turned out to just be Viggo singing his praises. If you'd be willing to share your thoughts on this I'd love to hear them :') I only thought of this when I saw another video of Mary's letter and thought of Viggo and his "my dear Hiccup" and also that arcane song

I actually know nothing about Mary’s letter! Someone, please educate me!

So sorry it took me so long to get to this. Life has been weird and hectic lately. (Doesn’t help that my endo is flaring right now.)

But anyway, onto the letter! This doesn’t feel out of character to me at all. It’s very bittersweet, melancholy, and resigned. It’s a very Viggo thing to do. He canonically likes leaving messages for Hiccup, even though they’ve never been as direct as this. (Thinking about the Maces and Talons board in season 2, and then the game piece waiting for Hiccup in this very episode!)

Viggo having considered his death beforehand and thinking about it with such resignation is so interesting, and it’s made more so by his confidence in Hiccup.

And that’s why I ship it so hard. It’s Viggo’s respect that he gains for Hiccup, and eventually, his confidence in him. He is willing to die for Hiccup and alright with doing so. Romantic or not, that is an act of love and devotion!

Hiccup finding this letter after the fact is so painful. I can see Viggo having snuck it into one of Toothless’ saddlebags. It would be super angsty if Hiccup discovered the letter on the way back to Dragon’s Edge with Ruffnut and Tuffnut. He would try to read the beginning and get all teary-eyed, I think. He would be trying his best not to get teary, but the letter is such a shock, and he would still be in shock over what had happened. I can see one of the twins asking him what it is, and naturally (he is Hiccup after all), he lies, says it’s nothing, and puts it carefully back in the saddlebag. Toothless is worried about him and makes this vocally known.

But now there being a physical letter opens up the story to so many possibilities! Does Hiccup keep it a secret from everyone but Toothless? Does he tell Astrid? Does anyone find out by snooping through Hiccup’s things?

Anyway, absolutely lovely concept. This is so great! Thank you for sending!

[bonefall]

Who’s Juniperclaw again? Also the quote about ruthlessness? Staring curiously

Canon!Juniperclaw is tigerHeartstar's nephew, son of Dawnpelt and brother to Strikestone and Sleekwhisker.

He was the first deputy of ShadowClan after tigerHeartstar's return, until he tried to pressure SkyClan into leaving the Lake in AVOS by poisoning their food. No one was hurt any worse than "bad tummyache," but he was exiled anyway. He then died rescuing Shadowkit from a flooded river QuickTime event.

We found out that he went to the Dark Forest in TBC. He was allowed to become the guardian of the tunnel between the Place of No Stars and StarClan's Hunting Grounds, in the hopes of finding redemption.

For BB this is all a bit different;

I've been waiting for a while for the perfect opportunity to rise to rework Juniperclaw's story.

I REALLY like the idea of his poisoning, his exile, and his placement in the Dark Forest... but the back half of AVoS is baddd.

Plus, it's just too bloodless. If he's going to get DARK FOREST over this, I expect a body count.

So now, his actions lead to at least 3 deaths. Leafstar is one of them, Sparkpelt was ALMOST another but Hollylark uses xeir powers to die in her place, and Flickerkit dies shortly before his birth.

ANYWAY JUNIPERCLAW

I feel like he wasn't expecting the death toll to be so devastating.

This event is being moved to Squirrelflight's Horror. Juniper's plot was that he was going to do this poisoning to blame it on The Sisters.

He just wanted SkyClan off ShadowClan land, he figured if he convinced Leafstar that the Sisters are a threat that needs to be dealt with that she'd move

He didn't think it would kill three people, just make them sick! Maybe just ONE of Leafstar's lives! And how was he supposed to know ThunderClan's leader's daughter would have a bowl?!

This plan probably works, but the guilt EATS Juniperclaw alive. He got exactly what he wanted-- a battle patrol against expectant queens.

I can't see this secret going on too long, someone rats him out and he crumbles. He can't live with it anymore.

But in Waspstar's eyes, an exile was a light punishment. Exactly what xey expected out of Heartstar, so openly biased for her family, not taking the death of SkyClan's leader as the murder that it was.

Xey dealt with this by sending a message; all "honored" guests could come and pay their respects to Leafstar.

Juniperclaw isn't invited explicitly... but the message reaches him. It is implied. So he comes, hoping to offer his sincere regrets.

I'm trying to figure out the cat equivalent of "Being taken out back and shot" is lmao

Professional mob boss kind of hit. Someone takes out the pistol with a silencer and ends his existence in the back alley as the loud party inside drowns out the sound of the shot. Do you understand me

Whoever the "hitman" was, Waspstar is the one who ordered it and xey take full responsibility.

The kill was clean. Not messy. Juniperclaw didn't suffer-- unlike his victims.

Juniperclaw goes to the Dark Forest like canon, but in BB he isn't the only border guard. He's buddies with Mudclaw and Appledusk.

The line about ruthlessness I mentioned offhandedly is this one from KA Applegate. I'm pretty sure it's from Animorphs.

"People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think that it means ‘mean.’ It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution."

It's become a popular paragraph as of late, because it slaps.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

riffing off socially awkward deeply anxious König, do you think he would do better digitally? chatting with someone he met online or someone who streams an obscure game? you have a lovely relationship with him and then before you meet in person he's like so. i'm. very. awkward. as a real person. i might not. talk a lot. you'll be carrying the conversation, don't take it personally. you have a captive audience for ANY topic. anything. you want. and why is it going to be a/b/o's spn origins

Okay yes this absolutely. I can totally write something for that. I hope this story suffices!

Now, I have no idea what you mean by the omegaverse, but I could try making an omegaverse!König if you’d like. I do not understand by spn omegaverse origins. Please feel free to either respond here or ask in my inbox. It should be open??? Tell me if it isn’t.

Anyways, onto the story! More below the cut.

König Prefers Quiet Time

König is a voracious reader, so he’s rather verbose and eloquent when online. His messages are witty, insightful, yet practical and grounded. He’s quick to become your best online friend. After all, he’s so well-spoken! He writes beautiful paragraphs that are easy and amusing to read. It’s rare to find such a delightful person online.

And he’s so quick to win over your heart. Whenever he can be, he there’s for you. He’ll take pictures and videos of sights on deployment or jot down little stories to tell you when he can. Sometimes he can drop off the face of the earth, but he’ll be back online soon enough and messaging you about how his latest mission went and what he did (within reason, can’t give away secrets).

Every time he comes back online, you know you’re in for a good time. Whether it’s him complaining about teammates, or having to argue about directions with a local, he’s got fantastic (yet terribly awkward) stories about his days. He always says he’s so shy and hates social situations, and sure he sometimes sounds a bit strange when he recounts the stories, but they're so fun that you don't really take in how it would look from an outside perspective. Sure, he sounds a bit dorky in these stories, but still so eloquent! He’s got this little way of describing things with abstract metaphors that make you smile and wish you were there by his side.

It took a lot to convince him to have a relationship with you. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, it’s that you ask to meet up in person. He tells you that he’s happy to meet you, but then why does he suddenly have more missions? He’s so punctual, but he missed his flight? When he goes on about having a stubbed toe, you have to put your foot down. You want to see him, and that’s final.

Begrudgingly, he books a vacation with you.

When you go to pick him up from the airport, the first thing that stands out about him is how tall he is. Then how big. You didn’t think they made people in that size. This guy has Shaquille O’Neil running for his money. Like, how? And then you realize that he’s crouching down to make himself look smaller. It’s insanity. At the very least, he’s easy to pick out in a crowd, what with his hood and all. You do worry about him fitting in the car, though.

So you go up to him, and then he sees you and he looks nothing but elated. It’s a beautiful moment between you two. In that hectic airport, with people calling in many languages and bags squeaking and the cars outside honking and revving their engines, it’s perfectly silent and beautiful. It’s a wonderful moment that you think you’ll cherish until you die.

The next moment is where it all falls apart.

He accidentally drops his bag and it spills everywhere. He scrambles to pick it up and he keeps looking around with wide eyes of terror so you take pity on the poor lad and lean down to help. He then promptly stands up and cracks the crown of his head against your nose and now your nose is bleeding and oh no he dropped his bag again and now he’s apologizing and then he’s rushing to the bathroom and you’re left with the realization that you fell in love with an absolute mess. 

By the time he’s back, your nose has stopped bleeding and you’re packing his belongings back into his pack. He tries to silently offer you tissues, so you take them and wipe your nose tenderly, but when you make a joke about it he doesn’t say anything. Odd, but maybe he’s just a bit frazzled.

You’re driving back home when he finally says his first words to you besides ‘hi’, ‘sorry’ and ‘oh no’.

“Thank you,” he says as he stares at the road ahead.

“What, for the drive?” you laugh, “it’s no problem! I mean, it’s not too bad. It’s about an hour’s drive, but I’m fine with that!”

König says nothing, just nods as you speak. You’re starting to worry that you picked up the wrong person. Where was the confident and friendly man you spoke to online? Where was his friendly joking? At least you now understand his awkward and amusing stories he told you, because even though you love him, you can’t help but feel terribly awkward. If he’s this bad with you, you can only imagine how bad it is with others.

You were prepared for someone who was going to talk your ear off, but you felt like you just picked up a skinwalker instead. Was he even blinking? You can’t tell. He looks shell-shocked as he gazes off into the distance.

“So, um, how was the flight?” you ask with a wide smile.

“Gut.”

Anything more? No? Nothing more. Well, that’s helpful.

“Did they give you anything to eat on the flight? Are you hungry?” you ask, hoping to pry more than a couple words out of him.

“I ate,” he says quietly.

You nod and bite your lip. So this is what it was going to be like?

You take him into your home. For the entire night he refuses to take a step outside.

By the time noon rolls around the next day, you decide to take the initiative and knock on his door.

“Hey, König?” you call.

You get a hum from behind the door.

“Can I come in?” you ask nervously.

There’s a pause, then a hiss and a curse, then the door opens.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you squeeze by him, but he doesn't move to let you in any easier.

König sits delicately on the edge of the bed while you sit on a stool across from him. You look at each other for a few moments before you crack.

“Am I… Am I not what you thought I’d be?” you ask nervously.

König tilts his head as he narrows his eyebrows.

“I mean, just…” you sigh, “you talked so much online, but you’ve barely said a word since I picked you up from the airport. Are you okay? Is there something wrong?”

You hesitate for a moment, before you tack on, “Is there something wrong with us?”

König’s eyes slowly widen before he shakes his head quickly, the fabric swinging like a dog shaking after a dip in a lake.

“Nein, you are…” he gestures towards you with one hand, “you are perfect. It’s just… Ah…”

You brace yourself.

“I am not good at talking,” he admits.

You deflate. That’s it? He’s not good at talking?

“But you’re fine online,” you point out.

“Ja, but this is… It is different,” he sighs, “I am not good at talking to people in person. It is.. Scary. I do not like to talk much.”

You nod as you listen carefully.

“So…” you rub your thumb over your kneecap, “would you like me to do most of the talking for us? Would that make things easier for you?”

König nodded quickly.

You laugh as you feel your shoulders relax.

“Great. I think I can do that.”

From then on, the visit is wonderful. Now that you know that König just isn’t great at talking in person, it’s a delight to talk to him. Sometimes you think you talk at him, but you realize pretty quickly that he’s listening attentively to everything you say. He’s a delight to speak to. If you ever lose your train of thought, he’s quick to help you get it back so he can listen to you further.

You realize pretty quickly that he worries too much. When you take him out to places, he’s nervous and flighty. The louder and more chaotic, the worse his social anxiety gets. As such, you find yourself going to more quiet areas. You chill and relax in quiet cafes, go to the aquarium at night, even play some games at a board game cafe in the middle of the day, when there’s nobody else there.

He’s a friendly man, all things considered. You also quickly learn the basis of his awkward stories.

You’re at a grocery store when you see it in action.

“Oh my God you’re so tall!” a woman looks up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

König barely turns to acknowledge her, but he gives her a curt nod.

“Can you, like, help me with something?” she asks eagerly.

König looks down at you, then back to the woman.

“What is it?” his voice is sharply cold, and you can see the woman wince.

“Well, um, there’s this thing on the top shelves, and I was hoping you could get it for me?” she says, a bit nervously.

“What is it?” he’s somehow worse than last time.

“Um, uh, I can show it to you?” she offers meekly.

“I need to know what it is,” König practically tears her head off with how brutal he sounds.

You grab his hand and squeeze slightly, but it seems like it’s all going downhill too quickly.

“It’s-”

König turns to face her abruptly and she’s stumbling back before scurrying off. König watches her go, then turns to you.

“Why did she go?” he asks innocently. You can hardly believe him.

“König…” you start slowly, “is that how you usually speak to strangers?”

He thinks for a moment, then nods.

“König I think I know why you think people hate you.”

König’s eyebrows raise up for a moment, “You do?”

You nod, and give him a brief explanation. You can see his brain doing somersaults in his head, practically melting out his ears as his entire world view is shattered before him. Before he can respond properly, the woman is coming back with security in tow.

It’s no wonder König has so many interesting awkward stories.

[purrincess-chat]

I'd like to know your thoughts on that part of Climatiqueen where Adrien sends sad voice messages to Marinette and she says they're cute. Because she couldn't recognize he was sad, do you think it means she still doesn't know Adrien well enough?

I find this narrative of Marinette not knowing Adrien well enough interesting bc antis (not saying you're one but I assume this question comes from seeing takes from antis) can't decide on their argument. I mean, is Marinette an obsessed stalker or does she not know anything about him? 🤔

Personally, to answer your question, I don't think it shows her not knowing him, at least, not in the way you might be meaning in your question. A big point of growth for Marinette this season after the last two seasons is learning to step back and let go and not control everything. We saw that when she makes herself sit when Adrien leaves without her. We even saw it last season in Passion when she was giving him space and not memorizing his schedule in an attempt to have healthy boundaries. She's learning not to be so intense and to delegate as we see with her letting everyone keep their Miraculouses full time so she doesn't have to be present for every single mishap in Paris and can live her life.

So, in this particular scene you're talking about, we see Marinette is preoccupied gathering materials for their activities, so she didn't notice all of his texts, which is totally fine. It doesn't mean she's ignoring him on purpose, she was just busy in that moment, as is her right. We only see her actually listen to his final voice text where he says he's looking forward to seeing her, and that's what she says is cute and sweet. Plus, most of the other texts we saw him send were like heart emojis and such. We don't know what the other voice texts said. And tone is sometimes hard to convey via text anyway, so from her perspective her bf was sending her a lot of texts bc he's excited to spend time with her, and we know they were going to be trying a lot of activities together that day, so it isn't unusual that he would be looking forward to that. I'd say it would demonstrate a lack of knowing him if she was continuously oblivious, but we saw in the episode with Ivan's dad that she did notice when he retreated away from everyone. A huge arc for the two of them throughout s5 and now 6 so far is learning how to be a couple and learning how to be what the other person needs and learning how to support each other. It's different than being friends. Of course, they know things about each other, but they are getting to know each other on a deeper level and learning each other's weaknesses and flaws and insecurities. That all comes with being more intimate with someone (not in a sexual way per se but just forming a closer bond). They're still growing and figuring it out, and I'm glad that's an avenue the writers are exploring bc things aren't immediately perfect just because the guy and the girl got together. There is still more for them to learn and ways for them to grow individually and as a couple.

I'd also like to point out, that Adrien is freshly an orphan in that episode. Of course, he's sad. And Marinette probably knows this, after all, she literally watched his dad die and delivered the news about him. It's not, not on her mind. But there are times to acknowledge it, and times to just carry on and help that person have a sense of normalcy as much as possible. We see them oscillate between those in the episodes we have so far. She knows. And she is there for him as much as she can be. But that doesn't always look like her cooing and coddling him because he's sad and needs hugs. Sometimes it looks like her kissing him a bunch to make him laugh or participating in a bunch of activities to help him find something he enjoys or sitting her ass on a bench and giving him space. 🤷‍♀️ No one is always perfectly attuned to their partner's moods and feelings. That's an unrealistic expectation to have. All they can do is their best, and we have seen Marinette try. And that's what's important.

Just my opinion on the matter though. Hopefully that answers your question 😅

[magiturge]

I'm sure you've been asked this before, but I'd like to hear all your favorite things about Sheriff.

i haven’t been asked this before, at least to my memory..

there’s a lot of things that i like about sheriff, but i’d say my favorite things..

sheriff serves as a very interesting case of somebody forced to go with the flow against his nature. he’s a “coward” in the eyes of nevadeans, in the eyes of us when we put him against everything normalized in nevada / madness combat.

everybody is accustomed to the violence, to the corruption and the rarity that is justice and kindness. things that are humane.

he has self preservation compared to many nevadeans that bluster around, throw themselves at a threat that easily tore down somebody just like them in a few seconds.

he runs because he wants to live, he does what he can to prolong living because what lays in death is worse here. he isn’t above dirty tactics to survive. that is one of my favorite things about him, he is.. arguably the most human or sane humane nevadean in a crazy out of control situation, keeping it together the best he can. i’m omitting the arena mode cast here as the one suffering from the insane situation is the arena player themself while the others of the cast are implied to move on with their lives after they initially disappeared.

he was living a normal life under everything and then it was gone.

-

the next thing that’s my favorite, is how sheriff’s cowardice is what makes jeb’s plan work. it had to be sheriff to move things forward because he’s scared.

i still dislike jeb in the sense of MAN you are an asshole, but the way sheriff fit into the plan like a cog in the machine is so beautiful even though infuriating.

how do i put it.. imagine recieving an email from a high ranking scientist, not the highest but still, speaking vaguely and ominously about the end being near, that people he cares for will die and he needs your help, under the gaze of the dictator of the city you find shelter in where secrecy needs to be kept, where further messages must be sent to someone else to not be found out.

would you not be horrified?

everything, everything, it’s because sheriff is a coward who wants to live, who is not truly a fighter that follows along. because what if he does ignore it, what if that person’s telling the truth.

sheriff fits into the plan so perfectly because he is SCARED of jeb. there are back and forths emails in the water / chasm levels between jeb and crackpot to the foreman about who to listen to. getting sheriff who is scared of him but unfortunately trusts him to lead merc gets that leverage over merc. he has a wavering hand over merc because of sheriff.

because sheriff is a coward, that’s why he works. it had to be him. don’t get me started on the emotional turmoil i can rought from this and the hate i write sheriff with being redirected onto hank.

crinkly old fool.. holding a grudge for that long just to puff out your chest and FOLD.

he’s just a guy trying to keep it together. i don’t think sheriff ever wanted to be part of this, i don’t think there’s a day that goes by that he doesn’t feel guilty about being complicit in the city’s fall. and he just has to keep going along with it because of jeb.

he’s not some, dissonance wielding caught up in a complex scientist or a dissonance overrun clown or even has a buddy in the way that tactition and demolisionist do. he has nothing but himself to emotionally rely on and push forward as the days never seem to draw near.

anyway.. other favorite things would be his just overall oddness, why did he take off his armor at the end when fighting sanford and deimos huh.. why’d he do that, is he stupid.

when asked how sheriff got the job and krinkels answers “everyone looked up to him. he’s an unqualified but popular and likeable guy” do you know how big a backflip i did..

he’s cute, he’s silly.. he’s trying. he’s a wimp but amicable. im looking at you like a horse right now. i dont think its really possible for me to say everything that i favor about him without sounding off.

im omitting a lot of visual / physical headcanon or design things, so my train of thought with actual content can be followed