#as per usual you don't have to do this but if you do i look forward to your responses

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I'm feeling very Little Lies about this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

"So this is the reason you missed Thanksgiving," a butter knife jabs in your direction as you poke at the white turkey meat; this? You look up then at Lloyd as he nearly chokes. 

"Uh, yeah," he coughs behind his fist and swallows, "we were out of the country..." 

"Yes, why would you bother to stay. No use in seeing your mother at the holidays, or the rest of your family," she reproaches. 

"Mom," he groans. 

"For ten years," William adds from his wife's side. "Now you show your face and you look as if you're eating rotten apples." 

"No," Lloyd argues. "It's just... I'm busy and I don't get a lot of time away from work." 

"We all have obligations," Gwenyth argues. 

"Well, I took her away so I could propose," he explains as he presses his fork into the whipped potatoes. "And it worked out perfect, right? Cause now I can bring her to meet everyone." 

Gwenyth hums flatly, "I suppose." She clicks her tongue and takes a healthy gulp of wine. 

"So, Pixie," Lillian drawls from further down, "what do you do for work? Oh let me guess. A librarian?" 

You don't let the suggestion bother you. You don't see it as an insult even if she says it like one. You shake your head. 

"No, I--" you begin and Lloyd stomps your foot so you bite down on your voice.  

"She is a corporate consultant. International corporation," he explains.  

"Oh, wow, sounds busy," Gwenyth remarks. 

"Yes, how will you have time for children?" Lillian challenges. 

"I'm sure they'll find time to make them," Benson chortles over his snifter.  

"Ben, please," William rebukes. 

"We're focusing on the wedding before all that," Lloyd says. 

You peer around as you chew your cheeks in frustration. You're annoyed by how they speak of you as if you're not even there, and so intimately. Yet, you don't have much to say for yourself. This whole facade is tiresome and you really don't care what they think about a made-up job. Or marriage, for that matter. 

"That will be done with quickly," Gwenyth sniffs. "And she will need to quit that job if she wants to do her duty as your wife." 

"I can handle a job and a husband," you blurt out. 

The table quiets as if stunned that you can speak. You blink and Lloyd puts his fork down and touches your arm, "sweet pea--" 

"I highly doubt you'd be marrying him for any other reason than that nest egg promised to him," Lillian scoffs. "You don't need to play a saint with us, darling. Marriage is a transaction in more ways than one; affection, money, sex--" 

"Lilly," William warns and she laughs. 

"Well?" She shrugs. "You do know, the wedding only guarantees a twenty percent payout. He needs an heir to get all of it." She pets her stomach smugly and smiles. "I can assure you it's well worth it. Once you meet Lorelai, you'll see." 

"Oh? Maybe when you meet her, you'll consider being a mother too," Lloyd retorts. 

"Excuse me?" Lillian snarls. "I love my daughter." 

"Of course you so," he sneers. "I'm sure she feels all that love right now as she enjoys her turkey and carrots with the nanny." 

"I can't have her around adults and alcohol. You can't possibly understand," she snaps. "And maybe it's better that you never do. I could never imagine you as a father, especially when you are such a child." 

"Takes one to know one," Lloyd growls. 

"Enough," William barks. "Both of you." 

Ransom laughs loudly at the end of the table. Lloyd shifts and Lillian rolls her eyes. You sigh at your plate. You miss your family. For the first time in years, you truly miss them. 

"What the hell are you laughing at, Hugh? The only reason you're here is because your grandpappy exiled you." 

Linda gasps, "He's not exiled--" 

"Oh, right, of course not, Lin, that's why you're here breaking bread with the peasants. That's what you called us at great grandmother's wake--" 

"Lloyd, watch your mouth," William snarls. "Better yet, shut it." 

Lloyd recoils in his chair and stiffens. His features sharpen then he lowers his chin and picks up his fork. His jaw is stone as he stirs the gravy into his potatoes. You wouldn't call him humbled, more whipped like a dog. These people make you feel something for him you never thought you could; sympathy. 

"I don't care about money that much," you say. "It can't buy respect. Besides, I would never marry a man without a prenup. Whatever Lloyd has will remain his." You push your shoulders back as a yawn tickles in your throat. "At this point, he can keep you lot as well." 

You stand up and take the cloth napkin from your lap. You fold it neatly, "Gwenyth, you can tell whoever cooked dinner that it was delicious. I appreciate you all having me but I'm going to go find a hotel and some peace." You step around the chair and push it into the table, "happy holidays." 

You turn, your insides jittering. What are you doing? Where did that come from? You could say you're tired and not thinking straight, but honestly, you're just so repulsed by these people that your head could explode. They're lucky they only got a a few pieces of shrapnel. 

You march out without looking back. Your cheeks tinge hotly with self-awareness. You've messed it all up. After years of harnessing your emotions under Hansen's thumb, you finally snapped. You blew it all. 

"What she said," another chair scrapes as Lloyd speaks. "Mom, dad, good night." 

You enter the hall and head for the entry way. You hear him beside you. You're still foggy with disbelief. It isn't until you sit to put on your boots that you notice Lloyd. 

"I know, I'm done. Fired." You pull on your leather booties. "I'll take the severance and figure it out." 

"I didn't say so," he says as he grabs a coat from the closet. 

"Um..." 

"You're completely right. We can't stay here. They're all a bunch of pricks and they wonder why I didn't come home for ten years," he pulls on his coat as he speaks. He pushes back his hair then smooths his mustache. "We're better off at the hotel. We'll sleep better there--" 

"We? Lloyd, please. Stay with your family. I need space," you stand and reach past him for your jacket. "Besides, I booked a single queen and it's Christmas Eve." 

"Queen's big enough. You're tiny--" 

"Okay, no, no," you hiss. "It's not happening. Stay--" 

"But I don't want to," he whines. 

"Mr. Hansen," you say. "You're out of your mind." 

"Well, after your blow up, I don't think I'm welcome," he puts his hand on his hip. "So this is your last chance to save your job. You made the mess, you clean it up." 

"Me?" You exclaim. 

He hushes you and step closer, "Pix, you already made a scene, let's not do the encore. I'm gonna grab my bags, alright?" 

"You can't be serious." You say. 

"Hey, I gotta play the loyal husband--" 

"And why exactly is that necessary? Why couldn't you get one of those Tinder girls?" 

"Woah, woah, come on, someone will hear you," he covers your mouth with his hand and you turn your face away with a blech. "Go warm up the car. We'll talk on the ride to the hotel." 

You stare at him. He watches you, as uncertain as you've ever seen him. In the silence, you can hear the din in the other room. 

"Always was such a baby," Lillian laughs venomously. 

"He could've chosen someone without an iron spine," Gwenyth adds. 

You grimace and throw your hands up, "fine, get your things." 

"You're the best," he grabs your shoulders but before he can kiss you, you put your hand up to pinch his nose. He recoils and rubs the tip, "ow." 

"No more of that," you say as you pull your keys out of your pocket. "Thank god I only had one glass of wine." 

You stomp out the front door. The frigid winter air hits you like a bus. Once one even ground, the swirling snow flecks onto your shoulders and hair. Great, now you get to drive in the snow with an unwanted passenger. 

You get in the driver seat and push the ignition. You turn on the heater and the heated seats. At least Hansen pays enough for the add-ons. Still, you’re not sure there’s any compensation equal to what you just went through. 

You look over as the front door opens and closes. Lloyd rolls a giant suitcase with him, another smaller bag strapped on top, and a third in his other hand. You don’t move as you watch him descend the steps, easing the wheels over the edge one-by-one. 

He comes down the long walk and jerks as his loafers slip on the icy pavement. It would be funny if you weren’t so damn exhausted. You steadies himself and continues on. You should get out and help him. You don’t. 

You pop the trunk with the button. He loads in his bags as you check the rear view. He comes around the passenger side and pulls the door open. He lets out an obnoxious ‘brrrr’ as he drops into the seat next to you. You shift gears as he shuts the door. 

“Ugh, I feel so much better getting out of there,” he says as he adjusts the seat, making room for his long legs. 

“Why?” 

“Um, why not? My family is the worst--” 

“No, why did you drag me into this?” You ask as you lean into the wheel and squint over it. The dark, the snow, the unplowed roads, it’s like the universe can’t stop throwing you obstacles. 

“You want the real answer or the nice answer?” He replies. 

“Mr. Hansen,” you growl. 

“Right, I had no other choice.” 

“No other choice?” You repeat. 

“Look, those long-legged beauties back home, they’re fun, but they don’t got much else going on. I needed someone who could play along,” he explains. 

“Play along?” 

“Yeah, I mean, you’re smart so--” 

“I’m smart...” 

“I wouldn’t hire you if you weren’t--” 

“Jeez, wow, Mr. Hansen, thank you so much. You think I’m so smart, so you should know I’m smart enough to know better than to believe you. You think I’m desperate,” you turn slowly onto the next street. “You think I have nothing else going on.” 

“No, that’s not--” he shifts in his seat. 

“It’s exactly what you think,” you huff. “Well, I do. I have a flight in...” you pause and check the time on the dash, “five hours so when we get to the hotel, I’m going to sleep and you’re going to let me. Then I’m going to catch my flight and the curtain can be pulled on this whole theatre.” 

“Your words, not mine. I don’t think you’re desperate.” 

You don’t respond. You’re tired. He just can’t leave things alone. He always has to say something. You wonder if he was truly left to his own thoughts, if his head would combust. 

“I’m actually impressed,” you says, “you held your own.” 

“Sir,” you utter. 

“It was good. Entertaining. I mean, all these years, you never once talked back to me but wow, that was... majestic, really. You didn’t even wait to see my mother’s face. Or my sister’s.” 

“Your family is weird,” you blurt out. “Sorry, uh, I didn’t mean--” 

“I mean, yeah, we probably are but I don’t really have anything to compare it to,” he says. 

You nod. He has a point. Yet, while that horde of entitled brats might explain his personality, it can’t excuse it. 

The hotel’s marquee shines like a beacon as you steer into the lot. You yawn and shut off the engine. You let yourself out and drag your feet around to the trunk. You take out your carry-on as Lloyd hovers at the other side. 

“All of your stuff, out,” you say. “I’m going straight to the airport in the morning. Checkout is ten so as long your gone by then, I don’t care what you do.” 

He’s quiet but he obeys. He takes his bags out and sets them on the ground. He pulls the rolling bag and slings his smallest bag on his shoulder. You snap the trunk shut and turn, shuffling across the icy tarmac. 

You enter through the automatic doors and cross the desolate lobby. You check in with your ID but as you look for your credit card, Lloyd flicks his between his fingers and offers it up to the clerk. 

“It’s on me,” he insists. 

You won’t argue. You really don’t trust him to leave by checkout. As you head for the elevators, he takes a deep breath. He doesn’t speak until you’re behind the sliding doors of the compartment. 

“You know, I’m still your boss so you can’t just order me around,” he says. 

You glance over at him. “Right, won’t happen again, sir.” 

“It could have been worse, you know? I could’ve actually had you come all the way out here just to drop off some gifts. If you think about it, you got a free dinner and some wine--” 

“Yeah, it was a great time,” you say dryly. “Mr. Hansen, I’m too tired to lie any more. Tonight was one of the worst nights of my life so no, I don’t think it could be worse.” 

The doors open and you stride out. You swipe the card at the door corresponding to the number written in the folio and let yourself in. He follows closely, nearly running over your heels with his suitcase. 

You take your bag to the bed and take out the cotton pajamas stuffed inside just for tonight. You bring them with you into the bedroom, doing your best to ignore your guest. Lloyd wanders along the wall and finds his way to the mini fridge. 

You’re in no rush to change, only to get to bed. You trade your dress and stockings for the cotton two-piece and emerge. You shove your bag and clothes beside the night table and slide under the blankets. You pull them up to your shoulders. 

“They got wine, tequila, beer--” 

“I’m going to sleep,” you insist. 

“The alcohol will help.” 

“No, it will make waking up even harder.” 

“After tonight, I think you need a shot.” 

“Mr. Hansen,” you grumble and cover your head. 

“Fine, more for me.” He snickers. 

You’re happy he can’t see the irritation on your face. You might just be better off to let him drink whatever. Eventually, he’ll have to pass out. At least, you can only hope he does. 

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 early morning rookanis enjoy 🪶

Lucanis leaves the pantry to see Rook stumbling towards the stove, delightfully disheveled. Hair tumbling from her head in a middle part instead of swooped across her skull and down one shoulder, shirt umbuttoned lower than he dares to look.

Spite still points out the green and purple fabric of her breastband.

"Good morning." She jumps, suddenly, only barely keeps from spraining her ankle.

"Where did you come from?"

Lucanis points his thumb over his shoulder.

"The pantry. Like every morning." Rook huffs, runs both hands up her face and lightly pulls at the roots of her curls. "Short night?"

"My night was long enough," she starts, moving out of his way and leaning against the worktop, watching him light the fire in the oven. "Then I had the weirdest dream in a minute, right before waking up. Whatever rest I got - ruined."

"Want to talk about it? It'll take a while for the water to boil."

Rook rubs at her eyes.

"Dreamt Emmrich made me partake in some Fade magic or whatever but it backfired and I came out tall and skinny, but really disproportionate."

Came back wrong. Smells not right. Dry potsoil. Old, dry potsoil.

"Would.. would you not prefer to be tall and skinny?" Lucanis himself could surely do with a few more inches in the legs, on his bad days.

It dawns on him an instant too late, the way his question sounds, even to his own ears. But she's not offended. Far from it, actually.

"Are you kidding? Absolutely not. Have you seen my thighs?" Rook stands back up straight and cocks her hip. The high Crow boots and tight pants hug her curves enticingly. "Luscious, but spacially demanding."

A pause, as he crushes some coffee beans in a mortar. If he remembers his labels correctly, these beans will have a hint of chocolate flavor in them.

"Besides, people never think it's the short, fat elf who'll kill them." Lucanis snorts at that.

He pretends not to notice the way Rook's eyes linger on his forearm, the popping veins and the shifting muscles.

"Would you prefer to be taller?" Rook asks after a while.

"Sometimes. Though less because of the actual height and more because of the jokes." The noise out of her is knowing, familiar.

"Head taller than a cheese wheel." A phrase they both must have heard more times than they could care to count, judging by the familiarity in the way she quotes it. She moves away from the cooking corner, toward the cupboard around the stairs.

"How did you get into coffee?" She asks it as though it's a story she knows, and knows it well. So, as per usual, he deflects.

"How does anyone get into coffee? I imagine you told someone you were tired and they handed you a cup." Lucanis pauses, as he transfers the ground beans into a filterrag and secures it over the pot. "Only that it made you more tired."

She laughs, wiping out the two cups she chose with a dishrag.

"Accurate. Though the way you speak about coffee, it sounds like more of a revelation."

11 cups, Rook. Last night. ELEVEN. WE NEVER SLEEP AGAIN. STAY SUBDUED. STAY AWAKE. ALL THE SHITS.

"Our barista bought samples of all beans available in Treviso. Had me try them to find Caterina's favorite. I was fourteen. Didn't sleep for five days."

They're lucky she chose tin mugs. Her jaw drops, and so does her grip on the mug, and it falls loudly onto the tiles.

"One: you have a barista at home?!"

"Not anymore. Last I was there, I made my own coffee. The other staff don't get it right."

"The other staff?"

Lucanis shrugs, as he takes the kettle with an oven cloth and pours the hot water over the filterrag in slow, deliberate circles. The few memories he has of his parents, they waited on him hand and foot. After they were killed, and he went to live with Caterina, her staff.

"I'm sure your house has staff."

"Viago's the Talon, Lucanis. The Fledglings are his staff."

True point, he thinks. Viago has a tighter grip, more control over his underlings. So they don't get ideas. The reason he's constantly peddling with orphanages and whorehouses is that the moment a Fledgling even breathes wrong in his presence, they disappear. Myself is my true king, and he makes sure everyone knows it like the know the sun also rises.

"Two," she continues, either oblivious to secondary string of thought that always seems to run in the background no matter what or electing to ignore it. She has picked up the fallen mug and wipes it off yet again. "You drank every sample in one night?"

"The best beans at the time were from the Montilyet vineyard, surprisingly, crushed in a coarse herb mortar, run through alchemy water that's just about to boil. Press it onto this tiny metal sieve and pour the water as fast as you can without getting the grounds in your cup." During his youth, he drank that prep so often he can no longer think of it without recoiling. "I got so much done that week. And have no recollection of any of it."

She laughs. Holds both mugs as Lucanis transfers the ready coffee into their mugs. She already put creamer and a sugarstick into one of them.

"Sounds like you to remember the coffee and nothing else." The sugarstick serves as a spoon as she mixes creamer, coffee and the sugar falling off of it. "What's in this one?"

"If you believe me, the beans in Neve's pellet coffee before they abuse them beyond recognition. It's supposed to have a chocolate aftertaste."

She raises her eyebrows at him, lifting the cup to her lips.

"You think you can save that hogwash?" The expression on her face tells him there's no saving this. "Maybe the beans just suck."

"What can I say?" He takes a sip. Oh, dear. "If anyone can, it's me."

"Did Caterina like any of the samples you tried?"

"Of course not. She prefers tea over coffee. It was a lost cause."

Rook laughs so hard and sudden she inhales her swill. Spite laughs at the way it drips out of her nose.

🪶

i know bioware fixed that bug but idc if i saw it happen and they patched it its a dream now i dont make the rules

i still don't know how coffee works but I love some tevinter slander lmao

I'm trying to break out of the chronologic thing I had going with solavellan and just write what I feel like writing and its really cathartic ngl [also the way I finished my thesis and went straight back to creative writing for the first time in like FIVE YEARS lmao]

@lanafofana if you want me to tag u in ONLY what we talked about you gotta let me know lmao

@vespaer77 i forgot to tag u in my rookanis stuff and tbf I don't know if you WANT to be tagged in that but here u go haha

[~rina]

[dr-flipflops]

OOC: Will's Lonely 18th Birthday people, as per Cresent's request. - @permetutotheworld @the-eclipse-is-in-me @fukurouonthesea Here we go :) Its sooooooo long, I got so bloody carried away, sorry guys.

*Will left another tray in front of Nico's door, a yellow sticky note on the side*

(what the note said is in italics)

*I hope you've been eating all the food I'm giving you Neeks. Ew- I'm 18 today, EW!!! I'm oooooold :( . I don't have to be a functional adult now do I? Surely, I get a pass for being neurodivergent. I hope you have a nice day INSIDE, please come out. I miss you*

*It had been a week, and Nico was still holed up in the cabin. Will had been denied access, but he'd seen Cresent and Noa go in just fine, heck even CLARISSE gained entrance. It broke something inside Will, but he shrugged it off. They were his family, of course he'd let them in. Will was just an inconvenience he had to put up with, and take care of. He'd known Clarisse for years, Cresent was his sister, and Noa was like his little brother*

*Its fine Solace, come on. Its your birthday. Cheer up. Its fine. Everything's okay.*

*Will's siblings had given him a lovely morning, and the campers who remembered and were the ones who still looked him in the eye had wished him at breakfast. It was nice. But it wasn't the same. Chiron had given him the full day empty, but he had no-one to celebrate with. His siblings all had duties, and they refused to let him work on his birthday. Everyone else was busy too. Will would usually go back to Texas for the week to be with his mother, but with Nico holed up he wanted to stay here*

*Besides, it wasn't like he wanted to celebrate it anyways. The only thing good about it was that he was another year closer to the grave. He didn't know what to do, he wished he could work, that way at least he wouldn't feel so lonely and useless. At least healing gave him a purpose and he felt good after saving someone. At least he'd feel something*

*Will lazily walked through the woods, kicking his feet, cupcake with candle in hand. He made it to his special spot on the coast, where he had the shade of the trees, and a view of the sparkling lake, but could still bask in the sun's rays without it bothering his eyes, not that it had ever in the first place. Wind whistled past, and birds sang, the sun shone golden rays that illuminated the rocks, slick with crashing waves*

*The day was undoubted perfect. Will knew it was curtesy of his father, his way of saying "happy birthday". Will was grateful, but he didn't really feel it*

*The candle glowed bright, Will cupped the cupcake in his hands and held it close*

Happy Birthday to me, happy birthday to meee.

*Will blew it out gently, and wished that today would be the day Nico would come out, even if it was to just say a simple hello. Tears stung his eyes and he laughed a little*

Guess I'm an adult now. huh. Never thought I'd get here.

*Will leaned back against the rock behind his perch, face tilted up as one or two tears down*

But you always knew, didn't you Lee? You said I'd make it Micheal, you were right it seems.

*Tears choked his throat, he looked up at the trees shadowing him above, and the sun softly shining through the canopies. It was like they were here, he could almost hear their voice. Almost feel the laughter of the younger ones. Gracie would've loved to meet Fay*

I wish you were here. I wish you all were.

*Something shimmer past his head and he looks to see his mother's smiling face*

*Will jolts upright*

MA!!?

Naomi: Hi Billy!!! Aw, my little William has grown up so much, 18 now! I thought you were coming home for your birthday?

Will: You-you remembered?

Naomi: no, I just happened to throw a drachma into the lake on accide- OF COURSE I REMEMBERED WILLY!!! You're my favourite son, I can't believe expect so little of your mother.

Will: Ma, I'm your only son.

Naomi: Even better! No competition. Anyways, how come you aren't home?

Will: Sorry Ma, things happened, and I got caught up in camp.

Naomi: Aw, I wanna see my son! You're officially an adult!

Will *small laugh*: Still can't drink though.

Naomi: You can drink water.

Will *groans*: Maaaaa

Naomi: Oh pish posh. Those Americanos *tuts* we're Spanish William, they don't have to know *winks*

Will *laughs fully for the first time all day*: Maaa!

Naomi *grumbles about Americans, then gives Will a stern look* : You better come home for Christmas William Andrew Solace, and you can tell that Chiron of yours to stick it where the sun don't shine if he says otherwise

Will *laughs again*: Alright, alright ma!!!

Naomi *smiles*: Seriously. Oh look at you my sweet boy. When you were taken from me, you couldn't even tie your laces, now you're 18, all grown up. *sighs*

Will: I'm still your little boy Ma, always

Naomi: Damn right you are! Don't you change a bit Billy. You've got a big heart, you dare lose it and your Abuelo will roll in the grave, and your Abuela will storm over from Spain

Will: Don't worry! I won't :) Even if the reason is my fear of Abuela's ladle.

Naomi: That woman, when she has her hands on a cooking utensil, y'all better run away or run towards the table ready to be stuffed like a Christmas hog.

Will: Yeah.

Naomi: Well, you're only 18 once Willy, I hope you have a good day!

Will *tight smile, hiding the loneliness*: Yep, terrific, look! I got the cupcakes you sent me!!!

Naomi: Aw, *someone gestures off-screen* uh huh, *back to Will* Billy, I'm so sorry, but I'm gonna have to go, there's something wrong with the sound systems, I'm so sorry. I want to talk to you more, after all, my baby is only gonna turn 18 once, its a special day! *bites lip and looks conflicted*

Will *his heart breaks. He was gonna be alone again. He makes a smile*: Its alright Ma, I've got a cupcake to eat after all! *huffs a laugh*

Naomi *blows him a kiss*: Love ya Willy! Happy birthday sweetheart.

Will: Bye-

*Naomi cuts the message*

-Ma.

*Will swallows. He was alone again. His mother had more important things to do, OF COURSE SHE DID SOLACE, SHE HAS A LIFE, grow up Will. Will took the burnt out yellow candle from the cake, and bites into it*

*It tasted like home. Tears brimmed on Will's eyes and warm memories flooded his brain at the chocolate melting in his mouth*

*Memories of Spain- the brightly coloured streamers everyone would hang around. Abuela would be cooking a feast in the kitchen , so Will would wake up to the scents of heaven filling the house and smooches from Ma. He'd bound down the stairs and promptly be told that even though it was his birthday he still had to brush his teeth. Will would get it done as fast as possible, then go and help Ma bake cookies and cupcakes. He'd go outside and immediately be pelted with shouts and cries, hugs and noogies from the neighbourhood kids. Then, after being fed like a king, at night, the family would gather and Will would blow out the candles, and cut the cake to find the clue at the center*

*He'd use the clue to find others to find his gifts, which only then he'd be able to open. The whole procedure from the candles, to the singing, to the cake, to the hunt, to the opening would be filmed. Will's beaming face photographed on his birthday every year*

*Will finished the cupcake, and found a note in the centre. Hollowness that had filled his heart swelled. It was a little heart with a smile, and a "happy birthday Billy". Will smiled through the tears, and he was almost home in Texas with his Ma. But he looked up and the empty lonely came back. He smiled a bit through the tears. At least his Ma had sent him these. Will knew he was going to find other notes in the other cupcakes, he turned the paper over and found another message: "Brush ya teeth Billy"*

*Will laughed, and no one heard*

-----

*That night, Will came back late, his siblings already fast asleep*

*He felt vacant again*

*Nico had decidedly NOT come out. He didn't see Aria's smile all day, and Noa never even said hi. Cresent, as per usual, avoided him*

*Will collapsed into bed, and curled up. Emotionally exhausted*

*He missed home. He missed his Ma. He mourned his life. He mourned the Will Solace he used to be, the one everyone sees, the one everyone wants. Campers look at him, but its not him they see, they see the Will they knew, the Will he'll never live up- hell he doesn't even remember the memories, HE DOESN'T KNOW THAT WILL. He missed Nico. He missed being loved. He missed so much. He hated this overwhelming, all consuming loneliness. It's like his life has been reset, and everyone is treading on eggshells, and he was deserted by those he loved most all over again*

*For his "special day" he sure as hell didn't feel it- DON'T BE SELFISH SOLACE. he felt nothing at all, and while that may be a blessing some days, today he hated it. Hated himself. Hated living*

*When he had gone to pick up Nico's tray he saw that Nico hadn't taken the note. He always took the note. Will didn't bother placing another one with the next tray*

*Something consumed him*

*That night, Will cried himself to sleep*

[andreaheartscats]

Hello! Love the blog! May I make a request? A sally face request (I miss the fandom so much)

Just wanna request Sal fisher x fem reader her visiting him in prison and comforting him, like giving him a hug, petting his hair, giving him kisses on his face. Poor man looks so broken during the trial.

omg hii !!! thank you sooo much and i loveee this idea !! :) i hope i don't disappoint !

Sal x Fem!reader comfort!

spoliers(?)

->not proofread, kinda short?

Sal was currently in his cell, anxiously waiting for his upcoming tiral. He wasn't proud of what he had done but he didn't have much of a choice anyway.. Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts the door to his cell opend. Sal jumped up slightly from the sudden sound of the door and his head turned to the officer standing there looking angry per usual.

"You've got a visitor, Fisher."

Words he never thought he would hear. Somone came to visit him? That was a shocker for sure.

The angry officer put handcuffs on Sals wrist and lead him to the talking room where his visitor was waiting for him patiently. As Sal entered the room his eyes slightly widened under his mask at the sight of you, still smiling at him like he didn't do anything wrong. As Sal took a seat infront of you, the officer left the room giving the two of you some privacy like you requested.. Although he couldn't really give you too much of privacy, i mean after all this is a prison.

"Long time no see, Sal."

You spoke gently to him, you missed his blue hair and those eyes that now look so sad and tired under the prosthetic mask he is wearing.

"Yeah..i didn't expect anyone to visit me."

Your heart hurt at his words.

"I think you're innocent, Sal."

As you said those words, you put your hand over his and gently brush against it. You knew he was innocent, you just had to prove it somehow.

"Well..seems like you're the only one that thinks that"

You let out a deep sigh as you tighten the grip on his hand.

"Sal, trust me. I'll get you out of this mess."

You swore you could see the tears swell up in his eyes, but he quickly looked away. You tooka quick glance at the clock on the wall that was ticking rather loudly.

"We don't have much time left to talk."

Sal cleared his throat as the two of you got up. You didn't waste a second and quickly pulled him into your embrace. You could feel his warmth and his heart-beat. You knew he needed this hug but so did you.

"I'll come and visit you again as soon as i can."

You mumble into the hug as Sal tightness his arms around you and hums as a replay.

The door opens abruptly and the two of you let go of eachother.

"Alright, visit time is up."

The police officer said as he got a hold of Sal and lead him out of the room. You and Sal shared your last glances as he left and the feeling of emptiness came rushing back to you without him being here.

It is time to prove that Sal is, indeed innocent.

[tvchi]

Veiled Intentions: The Hunt, Prt 2

Disclaimers: DO NOT COPY OR REPOST MY WORK. DO NOT TRAIN AI WITH MY WORK.

Warnings: Mature Audiences ONLY: 18+, Minors DNI- Allusion to sexual intercourse, Profanity

Pairing: black male x black female Words: 3,642k

A/N: Here is Part 2 of this series. I'm really going to try to work on getting these parts out at least once a week. Again, don't hold me to that because life be lifing!!! This part is very logistical and technical. If crime, espionage, and cerebral thrillers aren't your thing, I understand. Please scroll. While you may need these details to understand some of the premises of the story and what may happen later on, you will probably pick up on things later on.

Summary: Y/N tries to regain her composure while meeting Terry. Amused, Terry throws a wrench in her plans while running into someone who could be the key to this entire case. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rendered speechless, you look around, trying to gain your composure and decide whether you will play along. Your heart fluttered in reaction to his gaze and the warmth that emanated from his presence. Usually, you were a lioness strolling fearlessly through a den of vipers. But today, you were as timid as a fawn as his eyes roamed your body. Your brain screamed for you to say something before this became a noticeable and awkward pause. If acting like he didn't meet you at the museum was his direction, then that's the direction this would take. After all, you just bumped into each other, and you never got his name or anything else.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N Olisa." He smiled brightly at your response while you wondered whether you should have come clean to Director Moore about your encounter. You sat down at the only empty chair in the room to the left of Director Moore's desk. 

"Now that you two know each other, Olisa, I need you to brief us on what you have found on the case so far and start from the beginning so that we can get ASAC Richmond up to speed."

"Right," you started, trying to gain the resolve to forget the set of grey-blue peering at you from the right. "Well, for the past three months, I have been in the field working with other operatives on Operation Green Ledger, investigating large-scale money laundering within a network of shell companies designed to conceal stolen wealth accumulated through drug trafficking and high-priced art.

We believe that a group called the Ghost Syndicate has been partnering with art powerhouse Elysian Art Consortium (EAC) to smuggle drugs within the art purchased by some of the major gangs and cartels here in the US Several silent auctions disguised as showcases have been happening. In the area more than usual.

In 2021, Harborview Heights was home to only three art museums. Its population is about 600,000, and its average income per household is $60,000. In 2024, the number of art museums and showcases doubled even though the population has only increased by 50,000 and its average income per household, adjusted for inflation, is about $70,000."

"That's not nearly enough money to buy and sell art at that rate," Terry chimed incredulously.

"Exactly. We noticed that this was happening in more than just Harborview. It's happening in Pinehurst, Kingston Circle, and Cedarwood. These surrounding towns are only maybe within a 60-mile radius of each other. So we started looking into the interwebs to see if there was any chatter about any new players in town. After weeks of searching, SA Donovan intercepted a series of encrypted communications between the CEO of EAC and a buyer by the name of Muammar Gadaffi."

“The Muammar Muhammad Abu Minyar al-Gadaffi?” Terry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That's the one"

"Hmm"

"Right. As I asked some of my contacts in the CIA, they assured me there has not been any chatter from that family and anyone from the US in years, especially not in art or stolen artifacts."

"SA Donovan got me into one of these showcases that our CEO talked about with the cover, Alana Thomas. While there, I noticed that most people on the guest list weren't even Harborview residents. In fact, most of them flew in from out of the country. I made a contact that night, posing as an art enthusiast and buyer for an affluent family. I asked about how to bid on pieces and when they had auctions.

"The contact let it slip that the event I was attending was, in fact, a silent auction for some of the pieces but that he didn't think I would be interested in this month's pieces and to come back next month. Then some other operative bugged the place, posing as museum patrons, chaperones for field trips, etc." I continued.

"We are hoping that Olisa's Mark would provide fruitful information given his status in the EAC. It has been five grueling months, and more bids have taken place without knowing much about how to even receive a formal invite to bid. The invitations are heavily encrypted. Apparently, the designer used to be one of our own," Director Moore let out in frustration.

"Well, I've been formally invited as a plus one to the silent auction in two weeks. I seemed to impress one of the higher-ups at a company party last week. Adrian, my Mark, is curating the event and handling the guest list. I sent a copy over. So far, more than half of those people are major players in cartels worldwide. I am close to getting a handle on how first contact is made between the art dealers for EAC and the buyers. The key encryption on their computers changes every 18 hours."

Terry nods slowly, lips pursed in contemplation. His breathing slows, eyes trained on you as if he anticipated your next words. Your eyes go down to his big hands. They were strong and defined. The slight calluses on his fingertips and various small, healing scars on his knuckles told you he wasn't just pushing papers in his office. His fingernails were neatly trimmed and clean, tapping the arms of the seat he occupied. He stopped tapping when he noticed that you stopped speaking and were staring at his hands. You cleared your throat to relieve the tension that was building up in your chest.

"I'm assuming you are here with information about increased activity from the cartels," you said.

"No. I'm here because we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible. There's something big coming up the pipeline and we will need all hands on deck. We are asking everyone to clear their desks. The timeline is four months."

You laugh. "It took three to get an invite and look at the guest list. This is grade-A cyber encryption. There's no way we can wrap this in four months!" You look at Director Moore, eyes wide, and plead for help. 

"Olisa, ASAC Richmond will help you in this endeavor. We know that you are making some headway, but we are going to need all the help we can get if we are to meet the deadline. Please share the rest of your intel and show him around." 

"From operative to babysitter and secretary. My how the 'best and brightest' have fallen." Terry chuckles as he peers at you intently.

"And when you're done being a smart ass, make sure he has a copy of the case files."

You purse your lips in annoyance and then pull them into a tightly lined smile. 

"Yessir," you say. You turn to Terry, sitting in the chair, legs agape and elbows pressed against the arms of the seat. Your eyes were drawn to how muscular his legs were. Even underneath those suit pants, you could tell that he was well-toned. Quickly reverting your eyes to his face, you said, "Follow Me."

He rose from his seat, his build towering your frame. You two left the director's office and headed down the stairs. You started introducing him to everyone you passed by name, title, and what role they played in the case.

He greeted every last one with a congenial, dashing smile that reached his eyes and a "nice to meet you" or an "I'll try not to bother you too much, I promise." Once you finished introducing him to Brooke and apologizing for her lewd remarks, you stopped by the office with his placard beside the door you spotted while you were walking him over to Brooke.

"And this is you. SA Hilt will be coming over shortly with a copy of those case files you wanted, and if you need anything else, SA Donovan will be more than happy to assist you," you concluded, turning to face the door.

"What if I want you to assist me?" he asked sharply.

"Excuse me?" you replied, half-turned.

"You told me about everyone else you're pawning me off to. But what if I need you?" That flash of grey seized you once more, threatening to hold you hostage until an acceptable answer shot up from your mouth.

"I'm not sure in what situation you would need me."

"I can think of a couple of situations," he said mischievously. With your brow furrowing from his surprising lewdness, you turned around fully to face him.

 "From my understanding, we are attacking this from different angles. I'm supposed to stay with the Mark and I supposed you'd be posing as one of the buyers. Until the last 48 hours leading up to the auction, I'm not sure why you would need me."

"Well, for one," he started, folding his arms across his chest, "it seems like you know this case inside out and have been working this case since day one. Something stored in you may be the key to how we can get it; you just can't place it yet. Not sure how much you know about me," he stood and strolled towards you, eyes fixed on yours, "but I've been told that I'm pretty good at getting things that I want." Your body quivered at the heat of his gaze. 

"So advancing on operatives in the field, then showing up at their site pretending not to know them is how you get what you want?" you asked heatedly. The corners of his lips curled.

"Well, actually, this is our first time being introduced. You marched off before I could tell you my name."  His reply was swift, as though he anticipated the question. You assessed him, still trying to figure out his angle. 

"As I said, the other operatives will be here with you. I'm mostly in the field. I was here to collect some things before reporting to my post as assistant professor." He looked at you intently for a moment. Then, his demeanor changed to that of indifference.

"I'll walk you out."

"No need. Besides, I'm the one that knows my way around."

"Are things always this difficult with you?"

"Difficult," you said with a raised brow bordering on annoyance.

"Yes. Difficult," he repeated.

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir, but the only difficult thing about me at this present moment is the energy I would need to conjure to deal with an outsider coming into an investigation I spent months on and asking me not only to speed up my timeline but also calling me 'difficult' in the process," you replied poignantly. As you finished, he looked at you rather amused. "Is something funny?" 

He turned and walked behind his desk. Looking at the files on his desk and shuffling them around, he said, "Yeah, but I don't think HR would share my sense of humor. I'll keep it to myself, but I think I'm changing my opinion on 'difficult.' You wear it well."

His eyes hadn't left his desk once. Your face stalled, not knowing if you preferred the heat of his gaze or the coldness of his nonchalance wrapped in a sultry yet suggestive tone. "I guess I'll just find you. Thank you, SA Olisa." 

The finality in his tone urged you to move towards the door and out of his office. You weren't sure what was happening, but you needed to get a hold of yourself to see if you were going to last the next three months under this man. 

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

TERRY

I watched her walk through the glass doors of the empty office, her curvy frame gliding down the hall. I never thought I would see her again let alone standing in Director Moore's Box. If I'm anything, it's intrigued.

I wanted to know her story, how she wound up here, how she could dissociate from her marks after an assignment was over, why this case meant so much to her, or why she couldn't look me in the eyes for more than three seconds at a time. I wondered whether the latter was partly because she felt that same rush of electricity I felt when we touched yesterday.

I pushed thoughts of Y/N aside as I began to look at the files in this case. A lot was riding on this, and I needed to give this all of my attention. A knock came to the door.

"Come in," I said without looking up.

"Would you like anything for lunch, sir? A couple of us are ordering." SA Brooke Donovan said with a bright smile.

"It's lunch already? I didn't realize."

"Well, technically, it's 2:00. But we just now decided on where everyone wanted to eat from."

I chuckled. "Okay, then I'll have whatever you're having."

"Okaaaaaaay, Sir," she replied with a bright, spirited smile." Whatever you want."

I chuckled. Brooke was definitely the one who brought light to everyone's dark days. I am also well aware of my effect on people, especially women. 

I worked through lunch and almost dinner reviewing the case files, looking for anything that was missed that could be a potential angle to work while everyone went through the other obvious roads. I even set up a case board inside my office to track all the information I gathered.

We needed to attack all fronts, but no one was posing as the transport. No delineation of the route taken to deliver the product since only the supplier knew where the product was stored. That would be the critical area of interception.

Another angle would be forcing a route change by making all parties involved aware that they were being watched. As I pondered these notions, my stomach growled. Heeding that warning, I stood up, packed my things, and headed out of the office in search of food.

Out of the Box and walking out of the campus's main library, I smelled her before I saw her.

Her long, toned legs walked down the aisle, a book in one hand and a cup in the other. The heels she wore made her calves and ass look like every man's dream. Her skirt fit snugly around her curves, stopping just below her knees. Her bell-sleeved blouse had a keyhole slit in the back that revealed her warm, mahogany skin. I watched her for a minute, moving to a desk in the corner of the library next to another self of books.

She moved intently, searching while removing several books and stacking them in her arms. Everything she did was poetic. The way she moved her locs out of her face, the way she placed the books she wasn't going to take with a single push of her index finger, the way she tilted her head upward as if making a mental note to revisit a topic later, all of it made me wonder.

I wondered what she thought about when no one required her to think about anything, what frightened her, what her favorite restaurant was, and what made her toes curl in heated passion. I haven't had a chance to contemplate hoisting a woman up by her legs and to drink from her well in a long while. Come to think of it, too long. Looking at her now, passions I forgot were there slowly rose, forming a tent in my slacks.

She placed them down on the counter at the front, where she exchanged pleasantries with the librarian, after which the librarian scanned the books and tucked them away underneath the counter. She strode to the front, and my feet followed, drawn.

When I finally reached the door, she was down the steps where some light-skinned dude was waiting on her. They embraced, and his hands trailed down to her lower back, then her ass, as he kissed her. A fire lit in my chest, my eyes glued to his hands. Then he opened the door to the car and let her climb inside. 

As he shut the door, he turned and seemed to look at me. Still far off from the tall steps, I'm not sure how much he saw of my face, but pride settled into my feet like lead and wouldn't permit me to move. We stared briefly at each other, and I watched him walk to the driver's seat and drive off.

I'm not sure what is drawing me to this woman or what about her makes me want to break every finger on that man's hands for touching her, but I knew that the timeline on this case had just moved up.

I spent the next few days between the Box and my rental, visiting all the different sites of the case. I felt at home on the road because it allowed me to think out loud, from the most far-fetched ideas to the safest ones.

It also let me think about what I would do about my obvious attraction to Y/N. She's been running through my head lately, especially about how committed she is to her cover and the Mark. From how things looked the other night, he's familiar with her in ways that made me seeth wrathfully. While there was absolutely no place for an office romance, my body yearned for the weight and warmth of her. Whatever small disdain she has for me and my orders should deter me. Yet it does nothing but make me wonder what she sounds like, shouting expletives as I fill her with my girth.

God knows I love a good brat. He also knows I'm tired of going from home to home with no intent of lying my head in any one place. Not feeling safe enough to believe that I can have something permanent. Something good.  Something that would stay with me as I aged.

Many of my cohorts share this sentiment, but some strive for 'happily ever after' anyhow. I then started to wonder what 'happily ever after' would look like for me. Who would be sitting beside me? Who would be in the back seat? What would home look like? What would it smell like? The last question or thought crashed into me with a strong wave. Would it quiet my mind if I gained all these things, and would the nightmares go away? 

Quickly unlocking the safe of my mind and placing those intricate thoughts back in their place, I parked at the library's side entrance. I hopped out of the Mustang, grabbing my briefcase from the passenger's side. I made my way towards the steps.

"Excuse me," I heard. I turned slightly and saw him. "I was wondering if you worked here."

I studied him carefully, trying to decipher whether his question was rhetorical or genuine. When I didn't answer, he continued to speak.

"I've never seen you before, so I was wondering whether you worked here."

"Lots of people come through here. It is a university."

"Yea. That's true. It is a university. But most new people tend to be students, and it's heading towards the end of the semester. I also used to go here, and I know most of the people who work in this building. I've never seen your face before." That piqued your interest even further. There was little doubt that he had seen your face, or most of it, the other night. 

"Well outside of the fact that there are over 300 graduate school programs, other agencies and programs utilize the university's libraries of work or research and are allowed day passes for a small fee. But you went here, so you knew that. So unless you work security around here or a cop, I'm unsure what you want from me."

"A grad student can afford a whip like that?" He whistled as his eyes ran the length of my car. "You must be paying tuition out-of-pocket."

I looked at my watch in feigned annoyance. "I'm late, so do you have a question for me, Officer?"

"Oh, I'm not a cop."

"No?" he moved closer to him, "You move like one."

His eyes never left mine as he spoke calmly. "Nah. I'm not a cop. I just have something precious inside. There's a lot of history there. Its beauty was meant to be displayed for all to see, but that doesn't mean that there aren't people looking to possess it for themselves."

"Okay, now I'm confused. Are you in security or art history?" I said sarcastically. I wanted to know how deep his obsession with Y/N ran and what lengths he would go to keep her.

He chuckled with an air of arrogance. "You can say it's a bit of both. I've always been fascinated by how curators can showcase the most priceless pieces of human history while being confident that no one will walk out the front door with them. By the way, I didn't catch your name."

"That's because I didn't throw it. Do you stop everyone you don't recognize coming into the building or just the ones built like me?"

"Only the ones with that look in their eye," he said, almost sneering. 

"Hmm. Not just what that look is."

"You know, the one that longs for more. For something they can't have"

"Oh, that one. Well, I've never had to steal anything. I either earned it or paid for it."

"Is that right"

"Yes. That's right. Oh, and I think that curators rest in knowing that their pieces are insured and protected by the police force. This is a pretty safe campus in a properly policed city. Unless…”

"Unless?"

"Unless, somehow, your valuable item has free will and can choose to walk out with whoever it chooses to. I really am late. It was very…interesting meeting you," I said with a slight grin and trotted up the steps with gleeful ease, knowing that the game clock had officially started.

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

Check out Part 1 if you haven't already! Please hit the comments with your feedback, give suggestions on what you'd like to see, and let me know who you like and don't. Talk TO ME!!! Part 3 coming soon.

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[pruesgaultier]

a declaration of feelings

desc: singer agatha x actress rio. rio is away filming a movie and agatha writes a song (it’s totally not a love song.)

song used: forever, in this moment.

a/n: welcome to the first installment of my agathario song fic series where I write one shots based on songs from my agathario playlist ! i won't be taking reqs bc i get busy with work and i don't want the pressure of trying to give myself deadlines or trying to feel for songs I don't know, maybe in the future. for now, this is just low stakes fun.

Agatha Harkness sighed as she sat in her home studio surrounded by papers, sheet music and half-written verses alike. She had already tried her usual methods of focusing which included but were not limited to brain-dumping on a white board, petting Senor Scratchy like a Bond villain, writing bad lyrics to good music and good lyrics to bad music, but her mind was too preoccupied. Instead of writing a new song for her band Coven of Chaos’s new album, all she could think of was her girlfriend. Almost 3 years ago, Rio Vidal swept into Agatha’s life like a hurricane and she hated it. 

Well, not really. She hated how Rio not only made her feel other emotions, but she made her want to show them. It wasn’t a super drastic change, but she was much nicer than she used to be…sometimes and she smiled more, a lot more. Rio made her smile, made her laugh, and more often than not, made her think about settling down. 

To put it simply, Agatha Harkness was in love and she hated it, except she really didn’t.

(She just hated that none of this helped her write this fucking song.)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

After deciding to take yet another break, the singer went to make herself something to eat, she couldn’t cook as well as Rio, but she could make something decent enough. As she moved throughout the kitchen, she found herself mindlessly humming some of the lyrics she had written earlier. 

“My heart’s gone. She no longer lies by my side. She left at dawn and once again I lie alone.” The singer sang quietly to herself. Three weeks ago, Rio left to go to London and even though Agatha spoke to her in every spare moment of their free time, it just wasn’t the same. She missed Rio’s cooking, god did she miss her cooking, but she also missed just being with Rio. No work, fans, or press – just them in their bubble, forever. 

“It’s been three weeks. Your voice is all I have. Awaiting my love’s return.” Agatha continued singing, putting more of the song together. At this point, it felt like the lyrics were pouring out of her and she stopped in her tracks. “Scratchy, I think I finally figured this song out and of course it’s about Rio.” she said, turning to the rabbit with glee. Her food forgotten, she ran back to her home studio, Senor Scratchy hopping behind her. 

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

“You wrote a love song?” her band members exclaimed in unison. Alice Wu-Gulliver, Jennifer Kale, and Billy (just Billy. He didn’t like to use his last name, either one of them because he didn’t want to make his parents, all 4 of them, feel bad.) Agatha resisted the urge to blush. It wasn’t a love song per se, it was more of an expression of her feelings for Rio in song form, but NOT a love song. “It’s not a love song, it’s more of a declaration. I don’t do love songs.” Agatha denied. “The same way how you didn’t do relationships before Rio?” Jen shot back. Agatha let out an exasperated sigh “Look, is it good or not?” she asked. “It’s amazing and I have the perfect music for it.” Alice said, excitedly turning toward her laptop. “This might be one of your best yet.” That did cause Agatha to blush. She’d written one of her best songs and it was about her girlfriend. 

(But it still wasn’t a love song !)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to hear it live, my love.” Rio’s voice came through Agatha’s headphones as she sat in hair and makeup. Tonight, Coven of Chaos were performing Forever – Agatha’s not love song – for the first time. Rio was usually always there during the first live performance, but work kept her away this time.”

“It’s fine. Besides, you’ll be home soon and that’s more important.” Agatha replied, more than understanding about Rio’s absence. “Somebody misses me.” Rio teased, just to see Agatha’s face turn red but honestly she was in the same boat. “Well if these flowers are any sign, I’d say you miss me too.” Agatha gestured to the line of flowers that were delivered to her dressing room, all from Rio. “You bring out the romantic in me.” Rio replied. 

Before Agatha could respond, the door burst open and her manager walked in. “Agatha, it's 5 minutes until showtime, you’re already performing a love song about her, your phone call can wait.” Lilia Calderu, said frantically. 

“It’s not a love song, it's –” “A declaration of feelings.” Lilia, the hairstylist, the makeup artists, and even Rio replied in unison. Agatha scoffed to cover up her flustered state. “You’re a traitor, Vidal.” Rio rolled her eyes affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. I love you too baby. Good luck.” The singer softened “I love you more, my love.” she told her before hanging up.

“I love you too Lilia.” Lilia murmured mockingly. Icy blue eyes glared at her but the older woman ignored her, she was used to Agatha and her moodiness. “Let’s go lover girl. You have to perform your love song for your fans.” 

(Okay, so being in love does wonders for Agatha and she might have written a love song.)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The next day, Agatha was in her home studio on live. She doesn’t go live often, but she really wanted to interact and talk with her fans after their support of Forever. She was telling them about her very chaotic time writing the song when a voice sounded behind her. 

“You know if this were a horror movie, you’d be the perfect target.” Rio said, leaning against the wall. Agatha turned around, startled. “Jesus Christ! Rio, what the hell is wrong with you?” The actress smirked, waiting for Agatha’s brain to catch up. “Oh my god, you’re home.” Agatha jumped up making her way over to her girlfriend. “Surprise, m’lady.” Rio held out a flower which Agatha grabbed before kissing her passionately. Rio’s arms instantly went to the taller woman’s waist, pulling her closer. 

When they pulled away for air, Rio glanced at the phone, remembering that they technically weren’t alone. “Baby, the phone.” Rio pointed out when Agatha tried to kiss her again. “Right. Them.” the blue-eyed brunette turned her attention back to the phone where her fans were freaking out. 

“Well that was a lovely surprise.” Agatha said, setting the flower down next to her book. Rio came and sat on Agatha’s lap, the latter wrapping her arms around Rio’s waist. “What were you talking about anyway?” the shorter woman asked. “I was telling them how I wrote Forever.” that made Rio smile. “You mean the song you wrote for me that’s definitely a love song but you refuse to call it one?” Rio asked, raising an eyebrow.

(Agatha hated how attractive she looked when she did that.)

That made Agatha scoff. “Who says I wrote it about you? It could’ve been about Senor Scratchy.” she retorted. Rio laughed loudly before replying. “Scratchy wishes he could inspire such greatness.” she said cockily. “Just admit, you wrote me a love song. It’s really good, but I expected nothing less.”

“Of course it’s good, I wrote it.” Agatha remarked. “She’s so humble.” Rio muttered causing Agatha to pinch her side. “I don’t write love songs, they’re so cliche. The song is a declaration that you and I will be together forever.” Agatha declared. “So it’s a proposal?” Rio asked. “No, that’s also cliche. When I propose, it’ll be a proper one, down on a knee and everything.” 

Blue eyes met brown, “When you propose?” Rio whispered, as if she never considered it. “Sweetheart, I wrote you a love song and performed it on live television, of course I’m going to marry you one day.” Agatha stated as if it was the most obvious reveal. The singer was confused when Rio laughed suddenly. “You called it a love song.” she said, a huge smile on her face. “No I didn’t.” Agatha denied. “Yes you did.” Rio argued. “I know one of you recorded her saying that.” she said addressing the fans, who were going crazy over this whole interaction. 

“It’s already trending on twitter.” Rio laughed reading a comment. Agatha groaned dramatically. “Why do I put up with you? Any of you, you’re supposed to be on my side.” she pouted. “Because you love me and them and you write songs about me that they love.” Rio smiled happily. “Yeah, yeah. Well, this has been fun, but now I’m going to have hot, sweaty fun with my surprise, bye guys!” Agatha announced, ending the live. “You’re shameless.” Rio chuckled, shaking her head amused. “And you love me.” Agatha said matter of factly. “I do, very much.” Rio turned to straddle the woman beneath her. “Now, I believe you said something about hot sweaty fun?” she inquired before pulling Agatha into a passionate kiss.

Okay, so Agatha doesn’t hate being in love and maybe she did write a love song like a cliche popstar, but she couldn’t bring herself to care when the woman she loved more than anyone in the world kissed her like that. 

[sergeifyodorov]

I know 4 nations is still a couple of months away but if you specifically were the gm choosing the roster right now, what would your team Canada look like? (I am also curious about the other teams but don’t want to overwhelm you) I always love hearing your hockey thoughts!

ooh sarahhhh LOVE this q... also lowkey thank u for only asking about Canada b/c i have not thought about the other rosters at all. to be honest

ok lets get into it

(13 F, 7 D, 3 G)

Forwards:

Already named to the roster: Sidney Crosby, Nathan MacKinnon, Brad Marchand, Connor McDavid, Brayden Point

I'm not entirely sure if I had complete control I would pick Marchand, who is both a) pretty far past his prime (even if he is one of those guys who doesn't really age like other players do) and b), not entirely That guy, but I digress. Eight more forwards to name.

Mitch Marner: Easily the best Canadian player not on this list. Since there's no salary cap for the roster and you can go wild by just picking Everyone Good, the most important note of roster construction in my mind is special teams; on any given team you should have ~2 units each of PP and PK, so eight-ish PP forwards and four-ish PK forwards. Some guys don't really do either, so it's always an extra asset to find a guy who is good at both. Mitch Marner is good at both. (And also good at basically everything else.)

Sam Reinhart: I don't like saying it, but I will

Mark Schiefele: I also don't like saying it

Dylan Strome: Here's where it gets interesting. No, I promise this is not a purely narrative choice, although I understand why one might think that. I shrimply love me a smart playmaking centre (yes his points totals are probably inflated by the Caps' really high oish% for him, but he is firmly Very Good and, even as a 4C, should be firmly considered for the 4N.)

Travis Konecny: Legitimately one of the best penalty killers in the league, and also just an all-around threat. Also also a lot of the guys who tend to be picked for 4N are natural centres (e.g. Sidney, NateMac, CMD, Pointer, Reinhart, Schiefele, and Strome are all centres) so it's nice to not have to worry in his case about if he's going to have to move to wing or not.

Connor Bedard: Oh my god I want to see what this kid can do with offensive deployment on wing and actual good teammates

John Tavares: Departing from my usual "don't pick players who are floating into their mid-thirties if you can possibly avoid it" to say that Guys. Johnnifer is still Good. Like, still really good. Chugging along at a point a game and very, very good in the faceoff dot (58%) type of good.

Seth Jarvis: Also firmly underrated IMHO; just because he is a little guy and a bit of a dork doesn't mean we shouldn't, like, remember that He's Good. Because he is.

Reserves: Steven Stamkos (always a power-play threat), Mat Barzal (competent teammates question part 2), Claude Giroux (we all know what his deal is)

Defencemen:

Already named to the roster: Cale Makar

Oh, boy, are we not great at this whole "developing defencemen" thing. Let's see who we can put together.

Josh Morrissey: Basically Morgan Rielly but a little better, I think? Solid shooter, Of-D, etc etc.

Thomas Chabot: Severely undernoticed considering that the Sens have been shit and ass the entire time he's played there. Not his fault, though. Also there's no other Francophones on this list I feel so we should really fix that. What IS Quebec Doing?

Brandt Clarke: Okay, we can have a little "developing defencemen." As a treat.

Evan Bouchard: Why are you booing me? I'm right.

Chris Tanev: Chris Tanev

Brandon Montour: There are probably one or two better options but I like him more TO BE HONEST. Picking the forwards is like a careful examination of PK ability and faceoff percentages and primary points per minute. Picking defencemen has been entirely vibes. I'm very, very sure the L and R balance is just Not There.

Reserves: Maveric Lamoureux (queb AND developing. dual threat), Devon Toews (considering literally everyone will beg for the makar-toews pairing), Shea Theodore (I guess)

Goaltenders:

Lol and Lmao, even

Logan Thompson: The man is the Capitals' starter, helped win Vegas a Cup, and is also lowkey hot sexy and hot and sexy. Starter!

Joey Daccord: Swiss, Canadian, and American, so I'm sure we could convince him to come to the dark side. (Especially since the USA has holy-fuck level goalie depth. Jake Oettinger is a third-stringer.)

Marc-Andre Fleury: Look, this forward core is good enough that it can win us a game 7-6 if we really need it to. I just think he's fun.

[scarred0and-starry]

First kiss - The Marauders

AN: a couple of quick updates, i've been writing like crazy today, saw into the woods again tonight and it was amazing, as per usual. anyhow it hit me with some inspiration for the theatre kid au so i've put a few hours of work into that, don't really know whose interested in it but i'm having fun so i think I'll see it through, first chapter tonight maybe? i think im gonna stack up some of these hc posts and schedule them to post so i can focus on the au. either way im having the time of my life writing. anyway i've rambled enough though, enjoy!

-starly ☆

Remus J. Lupin

The moon was still a week away, but Remus felt its tug all the same. The two of you sat beneath a tree on the edge of the lake, the castle glowing softly behind you, and the air heavy with the scent of rain that had passed earlier in the evening.

“Do you ever feel like everything’s too much?” he asked suddenly, his voice low, almost swallowed by the gentle lapping of the water.

You looked at him, your heart aching at the way his shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the world. “Sometimes,” you admitted. “But it’s easier when you’re not alone.”

He turned to you, his golden-brown eyes soft and searching. “Is it?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “It is.”

The words hung between you, delicate and fragile, until he reached out, his hand brushing yours. You turned your palm to his, threading your fingers together, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“I don’t know how to…” he started, his voice trailing off.

“You don’t have to know,” you whispered, leaning in just enough to let him decide.

And he did. Slowly, cautiously, he closed the space between you, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss so gentle it was almost shy. His hand found your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin as though he couldn’t quite believe this was real.

When you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft, breathless chuckle escaping him. “That wasn’t too much,” he murmured.

“Not at all,” you replied, smiling.

Peter J. Pettigrew

The Gryffindor common room was nearly empty, the fire crackling softly as rain pattered against the windows. Peter sat beside you on the couch, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his sweater.

“You’re quiet tonight,” you said, nudging him gently.

“Am I?” he asked, his voice higher than usual. He cleared his throat, glancing at you before looking away again. “Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“You.” The word slipped out before he could stop it, and his eyes widened as though he wanted to pull it back.

You tilted your head, a smile playing on your lips. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re—you’re really important to me, you know.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you reached out, covering his hand with yours. “You’re important to me too, Peter.”

His gaze flicked to your hand, then to your face, and for a moment, he seemed to gather all his courage. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so tentative it felt like a question.

When you didn’t pull away, he pressed closer, his hand trembling slightly as it cupped your cheek. The kiss was sweet and a little clumsy, but it was undeniably Peter—honest and full of warmth.

When he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, but he was smiling. “I can’t believe I just did that,” he said, his voice tinged with awe.

“I’m glad you did,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

Sirius O. Black

The Astronomy Tower was quiet, the sky above a canvas of stars blurred slightly by the lingering haze of a recent rain. Sirius leaned against the stone railing, the cool breeze ruffling his dark hair as he looked at you with a lopsided grin.

“You spend too much time thinking,” he said, his voice light but tinged with something deeper.

“And you don’t think enough,” you shot back, though your tone held no real bite.

He laughed, low and warm, before stepping closer. “You’re probably right.” He tilted his head, his gray eyes scanning your face. “So, what are you thinking about now?”

“Maybe I’m thinking about you,” you said, your heart pounding at your own boldness.

His grin faltered for a moment, replaced by something softer, almost vulnerable. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius’s hand brushed against yours, his fingers hesitant at first but growing bolder when you didn’t pull away. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmured, his voice dropping.

“Why?”

“Because you make me want things I’m not sure I deserve.”

Before you could respond, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. It was warm and urgent, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck as though he needed to keep you close.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and he let out a breathless chuckle. “Bloody hell,” he said, his grin returning. “You’re even better than I imagined.”

James F. Potter

The Quidditch pitch was deserted, the stands empty and the grass damp from the evening’s rain. James had dragged you out here under the pretense of showing you a “cool trick,” but now he was just holding his broom and looking at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“So,” you said, crossing your arms, “what’s this trick, Potter?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “Okay, maybe that was an excuse.”

“An excuse for what?”

“To get you out here. Alone.”

Your eyebrows rose, but before you could reply, he stepped closer, his usual bravado replaced by something softer. “Look, I’m not great at this kind of thing,” he admitted, his hand ruffling his already messy hair. “But I like you. A lot.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you smiled. “I like you too, James.”

His face lit up, and before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned in. His lips met yours in a kiss that was as confident as it was sweet, one hand gently cupping your cheek while the other still clutched his broom.

When he pulled back, he was grinning from ear to ear. “So, does this mean you’ll go out with me?”

“Wasn’t that already obvious?” you teased, and he laughed, spinning his broom triumphantly.

“Well, now it’s official.”

[claraoswalds]

#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition

[ningtual]

omg the mv is insane... like INSANE... it's giving mad max fury road alternate universe ... and eri was so right this mv feels like armageddon's sibling omgggg

[hylianengineer]

I just saw fairly realistic human teeth candy on my dash and freaked out for a second like, oh god not again with the mysterious human remains. This is what being into bone identification does to your brain.

[bumpscosity]

starting an origins server with some of my siblings friends and i just found out everyone's making characters up for it i feel like the combo i picked has so many possible outcomes

[essektheylyss]

I AM attempting to read at least four books this weekend and that IS ridiculous but alas, here we are.

[homosexual-fanfiction]

hmm... i dont want to lock myself in to super long chapters but the need to swap around the chapter breaks to up the drama is so strong

[torchickentacos]

AG Watchthrough Episode 2: Ruin With a View, AG002.

Business first. The poll on the last watchthrough has fourteen hours left as of me typing this but it seems unanimous enough (92.9% pro-explosion) that I am adding an explosion counter. To retroactively do so, I must inform you all that AG001: Get the Show on the Road! had a total of 3 explosions (counting hypothetical explosions that were shown on screen and animated in but did not actually happen). Updated explosion counter is at three going forwards, which is half as many as I thought the episode had. No worries, it'll go up very soon. For the amount Birch spoke about Pikachu exploding, I recalled more frames about explosions. I might have missed a couple of frames too, I skipped around to look.

Onto AG002: Ruin with a View! Long post. We talk about Ash as a mentor, the really shitty bunk beds I had in a dorm room at jesus camp, inconsistencies/questions I have about petalburg gym, Team Magma, and other things.

The episode opens in a way we will soon grow very accustomed to: With Ash jollily (?) marching forth and May complaining about it. Sometimes it will be the other way around. One person is ahead of the group, the other complains about it. Side note, the narrator calls May an 'aspiring' pokemon trainer. Two things there. One, she is technically already a trainer. She has a pokemon. Two, she does not particularly aspire towards being a trainer, but it's far too early for semantics. Moving on.

We're headed to Oldale town! May and Ash are already arguing on the second day of knowing each other. Ash thinks May is walking too slow. May points out that she'd HAD A BIKE... and Ash slows down, unable to argue with that. (Well, he's able to argue about anything in AG, but chooses to not pick a fight with the random girl he's supposed to be friends with now. Smart choice).

Anyways, May asks about Pikachu being out in the ball and Ash explains. This sets up something that WORKED about AG (when they remembered it): the group dynamic. Borderline nonexistent but VERY FUN WHEN IT WAS EXISTENT. Ash and May specifically have a mentor/mentee relationship for a while that I've always liked. It was a nice change of pace that set Ash as a more mature version of himself. He's abrasive and cocky but he does have genuine skill and experience to back it up now, and May is unsure of herself and... well, incompetent as a trainer as of right now. Ash has a real opportunity to shine here.

Does pokeani TAKE that opportunity...? Not really BUT it's there and we do see glimpses of it, like with Ash patiently explaining that May can use her pokedex to learn more about her new Torchic.

Anyways, they keep walking, May tries and fails to catch an Azurill. She sees it and throws the pokeball immediately. Rather hilariously to me at least, Ash just watches her make the same mistake he did, standing behind her like this.

The Azurill gets away, May forgets all of Torchic's attacks, Ash makes this weird face, and Torchic hits its head on a tree just like May did a single episode before.

Torchic then uses ember!...Which hits Azurill's family, a Marill and an Azumarill. Hey, didn't someone else start their journey by trying and failing to catch a pokemon rather pathetically and then angering other pokemon? Contest/Pallet solidarity isn't relevant yet (do take note I never claimed to be an unbiased narrator here), but Ash and May solidarity IS relevant and beloved. May and Ash are really similar, with May being outwardly a bit softer and, well, nicer usually (though Early AG Girlboss May™ is, if we recall from Ag001, a bit snide which does dwindle off). But we're going to start seeing a lot of similarities, which I don't think are a bad thing at all! I quite like it actually, especially in early episodes since it so nicely mirrors the last brand-new trainer we saw, which was Ash himself at the start of OS. This is Ash's first time not being the underdog, the new guy.

He (usually) takes this role rather well, and is happy to explain to May that Torchic, now-knocked-out-via-Azumarill's-watergun, can be healed at a pokemon center.

Also, explosion count goes up as Pikachu thunderbolts the water types. We're at four now, counting last episode.

Anyways, we find a bunch of rocks that I guess are just chilling in the middle of route 101? Normal Hoenn things, honestly. It'll get weirder, this is perfectly normal and fine. Just wait for the Claydol episode. Or the Gulpin episode. Or WWWWW and the Wynaut wall/rope/slide. Sigh. They're like tiny aqua legos or something. Or Monkeys in a barrel, I guess, which the slide was a reference to. ANYWAYS moving on, that is a discussion for AG113. So. Rocks.

We meet Professor Aldan and his WEIRD LITTLE PONYTAIL and he explains that these are "the Ruins of Oldale". (Not Oldale Ruins, I guess?)

He is researching the ruins and points out the pokemon center for Ash and May. I like this random ass little palm tree.

Look. There he is again below. It took all day for them to cross that single hill, by the way. It is nighttime now. It was a single hill they were on, overlooking Oldale.

Nurse Joy heals Torchic up, and Ash calls Professor Oak! May interrupts this call and gets all up in his personal space, which she tends to do to people on occasion, to which Ash makes this face, which looks like an Aang expression to me. I swear Aang has made this exact face before.

We learn that May has a brother (who "never misses one of your [Oak's] radio lectures!"). Amusingly, Oak seems slightly offput by May's enthusiasm, to which I ask, has Oak not met Ash??? Anyways, we switch over to Team Rocket, who is... here???? Wherever 'here' is???

They're talking to Giovanni, they ask for money, they get no money. BUT Giovanni tells them that if they set a TR branch office in Hoenn, then they can talk money. This, of course, is nothing but a carrot dangle because Giovanni wants them to stop fucking calling him for money. Also, he wants to learn about some MYSTERIOUS NEW TEAMS called Team Aqua and Team Magma.

Don't get your hopes up for that. Yes, TA and TM were in pokeani. Yes, there's a reason nobody remembers this outside of maybe, like, Diane and Butler. ANYWAYS. Oldale's trainer rooms are nicer than when I stayed at (redacted) university for Jesus Camp. You know what? Side tangent. This warrants a side tangent.

This college's dorm rooms had bunk beds that were two regular beds stacked and held together by a single thin wooden peg. Look at this. I had top bunk. I could have died. Also when I was there the elevator broke while people were in it and two girls passed out from the heat. This was in July. We weren't allowed to wear revealing (read: cool and summer safe) clothes. It was a weird two weeks in my life. We had a Jesus Rave. Twice. They played old town road. I have video proof of this.

Back on topic. Again. WAIT NEVERMIND- BACK OFF TOPIC, WHY ARE THERE JUST GUYS IN ROBES IN THE MAIN LOBBY?

Stripey shirt on the left is talking to their friends about Petalburg Gym (May is notably not thrilled about this). Ash is like YO GYM BATTLES! I DO THOSE.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING NOTICED @soulsilversprings tagging you here because of a convo we had. They say NEW GYM LEADER which I guess is what bulbapedia used to assume Pokeani Norman was also from Johto? I still like native-to-Hoenn May but ...there's that, I guess.

But actually, that doesn't make sense, because later we find out that May was 'never allowed to watch any of her father's gym matches' and it's made out to sound like Norman was always busy with the gym as May was growing up in a few offhand lines I'll get to??? So either he was already a gym leader and transferred, OR this line is bullshit and Norman's BEEN the gym leader and stripey shirt and co. are full of tauros shit /lh. Will update with any new information.

We are almost halfway done with the episode.

Interestingly to me at least, May IMMEDIATELY yanks Ash away and we don't learn who the new gym leader is, at her own insistence. Young Taylor certainly didn't imprint on May's direct-and-then-forgotten-by-the-writers avoidance of her father. /sarcastic joke, you can laugh at this LMAO. Moving on again but this does come up again and I'll discuss whatever feels relevant then.

We see Prof. Aldan again! Then we switch to Wobbuffet digging a hole! Then we switch back to Ash staring at a picture of the rocks on the wall! Enthralling, truly. Anyways, Aldan just... lets the random kids into his research base in the pokemon center. He talks about a stone chamber that is "a sort of bridge or portal between our world and the ancient pokemon world", that is so unstable that any attempted entries cause it to begin crumbling. Sounds safe.

May is oddly fascinated by the idea of ancient pokemon. Being a gym leader's daughter (spoilers.) did nothing for her, but hearing about an ancient pokemon in a hole in the ground? Now THAT'S interesting, I guess. And she's in luck, because Aldan shows them that he has the right way to enter the stone chamber!!! He met these children today and is inviting them to his unstable hole in the ground. Hoenn's gonna Hoenn, once again. At least there's no king of pokelantis to possess you in this specific hole in the ground. Don't worry about it <3.

Turns out there's 4 keys needed to enter, though, which he doesn't have. We then see team Magma grunts lining up outside the window, and they turn out the lights to the center, and break down the door and they kidnap Prof. Aldan in front of the kids. Nurse Joy interrupts and is also captured.

Side note that tells me I know way too much about AG but we all knew that: May's hair is animated uniquely here. It flips at the end a lot more, almost curling upwards. Maybe it's just really humid in southern Hoenn.

Anyways they LITERALLY FUCKING THROW MAY and I assume Ash and Nurse Joy too (but we only see May landing???) into a spare room and lock the door. Joy says with the power out, all the pokemon being treated there are in danger WHICH SEEMS LIKE AN OVERSIGHT TO ME but oh no, torchic is being treated there! But there IS reserve power that they can turn on once they escape the room.

Does anyone remember those room escape flash games??? I really liked those as a kid.

Pikachu points out an air vent, Ash says "That's grea-" but the sound engineers done fucked up and Ash is hilariously cut off by the WHO'S THAT POKEMON??? section. Which, note, still has Brock and Misty's voices in it.

It's Crobat. 👍

Team Rocket time. Insert 'posting hole on main' joke. They're in a hole. Get it?

Sigh.

TR picks a fight with Team Magma, who's heading out with Aldan. They get scared off back into their hole. We switch back to Ash and co.

Ash is crawling in the air vent! I guess he fully intended to leave May in the room, because he's suprised when she's crawling right behind him. Again, let's revel in May having a decision that she was able to make, or an order that she was able to defy. We'll run out of those soon enough. She asks, quote, "Why should I miss out on the adventure?". I really do love this characterization of her and wish it had stayed a biiiiiit more consistent, even if I do really like later AG May. But we eventually get someone who pushes her to be annoyed and fiery later, yay rivals, so that's good. Her character needs it to balance out the sweet/dumb/inexperienced aspects. They get a key for the door and switch the power back on and retrieve Nurse Joy.

They then rush off to help Prof. Aldan, who is being bothered by TM (Team Magma) to open the stone chamber. He says they need the keys. TM has the keys, conveniently. For some reason.

They put the keys in the holes, it opens, they go in. This is... a normal ancient chamber. Animation budget running a little low already, huh? /lh.

I think I hear Lisa Ortiz voice one of the magma grunts. I'm getting a migraine, let's speed this up a bit. Not much even happens past here anyways. TM leaves, TR shows up and blast off, explosion counter goes to 5, the sun comes up, they enter the chamber hole and find some Relicanth, and they get Torchic back from the center, and we head to Petalburg City.

What an oddly disjointed but enjoyable episode.

End of episode metrics:

Explosion count: 5.

Height ranking: Ash is arguably like four pixels taller. Ash>>May. Switched from episode 1 already.

[prismaticutie]

Hi guys! I've been posting a lot abt Rasmus lately! So I want to explain how my obsesseion varies between Rasmus and Cyrus

"Is Rasmus going to be the new Cyrus" GOD no.

There will never be a new Cyrus! Cyrus is the one and only Cyrus

If you haven't seen it yet, I have a post explaining what Cyrus is and how integral he is to my everyday functioning. It's a long post, so all you really need to know is he's like if you combined an imaginary friend + fictional other + caretaker all into one and placed him with me 24/7. He's my silly little cy guy and I would die without him <3

Yet I don't post about him as much as you'd expect me to. But I have been talking soooo so muchsies about Rasmus from Omega Strikers

So why is it different? Because! While Cyrus is a fictional character, that's not all he is to me

Cy serves a lot of other functions and purposes within my life. He's been around for a little over a year now (15 months?) and he helps me to be able to live my life in a healthy and successful manner

Rasmus is just a fictional character. He's a really cool one! But that's all he is

It's casual character obsession. Well, casual for me. To anyone else I probably look insane. And I am! But that's for other reasons

If you followed my pokeblog when I was obsessed w Hassel, it's a little like that. Except I think Rasmus is more of a kin type obsession, not like fictional crush (which is what Hassel was)

I don't think that this happens often w me? I can't remember the last character it happened with before Hassel.

Obviously I also have favorite characters. I talk about them more than other characters in a series, but there's a difference between a character being my favorite vs me being obsessed w them

If a character is my favorite, then you will see me post about them regularly. I might spam post them from time to time, but you won't see me going out of my way to talk about them personally. Usually just rb stuffs

If I am obsessing over a character, then I post about them a LOT more, and might even make my OWN posts talking abt them. I'll actively be constantly rbing stuff for them, and generally I'll be a lot more active in sharing my thoughts on them (in tags or otherwise)

The only reason I don't do that w Rasmus is cuz Omega Strikers isn't so super popular so the fanbase isn't massive on here and there's not much to rb

Basically my 3 stages of affinity for a character are:

Favorite - I see them I go 👍 (Spyke, N Harmonia)

Obsession - I am hyper and rabid and if I see them I go ‼‼‼‼‼😀😀😀😀😀😀💥💥💥💥💥💥 (Rasmus, Hassel)

Unequivocal Cyrus Tier - Seeing the character, I have the same reaction as the obsession level but if I think about him I see him I go 😊😊😊😊😚😚😚😚😋😋😋🤪🤨💗💗💗💗💗💗🌟👑(Cyrus)

I could use this to rank all my fav characters that would be fun actually. Unfortunately I do not remember like half of them bc I have no concept of object permanence

Um but since I mentioned Rasmus might be on my kinlist (spoiler alert: he is) if this post gets one like I'll drop my kinlist including characters I'm kinsidering/honorable mentions (I have one mutual who might fight me to the death abt this tho)