#but also bc i can’t level any of my characters up

[seoulmatez]

sua is officially a proud kazuha haver huehuehue

[starlooove]

No one is asking you to like cops IRL, not even the show. If you look at Arcane and what you see is copaganda, if you look at Cait and only see PoLiCe OfFiCeR and not the character, the problem is YOU.

1. I never said anyone asked me to like cops irl

2. I know that’s what I said.

[ssahotchnerr]

can i request jack wanting reader to be his valentine? 🥹😭❤️

like, aaron had no idea & his son just totally steals his thunder (bc he’s been pining over reader, ofc lol) but he can’t even be mad? it’s just so sweet & cute!!! but ofc, aaron gets the girl in the end hehehehehe <3

something exhilarating

happy valentine's day <3 cw; bau!reader, mutual pining, fluff!!!!!

"jack!" you grinned as he rushed towards your desk, aaron following right behind him.

"happy valentine's day." he gushed, with newfound shyness you've never quite witnessed from him.

"happy valentine's day!" you grinned, getting up from your chair to crouch, allowing you to be more at his eye-level. "did you have a fun party at school today?"

jack nodded, rocking back and forth on his heels a bit. "we passed out valentines, played games and ate cookies and candy. but dad said i'm not allowed to have any more today. or else i'll never go to bed tonight."

"well." you looked up at aaron, who nodded amusedly. your mouth drew into a humorous yet sympathizing line, returning your gaze to jack. "i'm sure your dad is right."

jack shrugged and quickly changed the subject, holding his hand out. "i brought you a card."

"you did?" you blurted gently in surprise, taking the small valentine card from him.

"uh huh," the shyness returned, his big brown eyes looking as sweet as ever as he asked, "you'll be my valentine, won't you?"

"um i'd be completely honored." you agreed instantly, your speed of which and enthusiasm also prompting a smile above from aaron.

"cool!" jack beamed, throwing himself into you as a hug. once back on his feet, he reached for the ziploc clasped in aaron's hand. "dad, can i have the rest?"

"sorry about that," aaron chuckled once you stood up, the two of you watching jack bounce from desk to desk excitably, passing valentines out to the rest of the team. "he told me he was only passing out his cards."

"no worries. he made my day." you grinned, looking down and admiring the character valentine in your hand, which read 'you r2 cool'. "star wars huh?"

aaron nodded, naturally crossing his arms over his chest. "we scoured the entire valentine's day section for those. he's been really into it recently, all he wants to do is watch the movies."

you flipped the card over, reading both your and jack's name scribbled in his kid-like handwriting - it was adorable. "never seen them."

"oh c'mon," aaron laughed in disbelief, before his expression turned to a lighter stoic than usual, "seriously?"

"i swear." you admitted, a slightly embarrassed laugh shaking through you.

the two of you fell into a comfortable silence; still watching jack, both laughing gently as derek tossed him into the air (aaron did vocalize a careful warning). as you both stood there, there was a mutual, something you could only describe as a buzz, going back and forth between the two of you. something eager, exhilarating.

"maybe you could come over and watch them with us sometime."

aaron said it so nonchalantly, so naturally, you almost questioned if you heard him correctly. but yet, you knew you had. somehow, it just made perfect sense.

"i'd love that." you replied, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"and maybe," aaron paused, as if he needed just a bit more courage. "we could get dinner afterwards. you and me."

"i'd love that even more."

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: the human custom of sharing clothes had been an unfamiliar one for jade, but he has always been a quick study

pairing: jade leech x gn! reader (both have graduated nrc, but a lot of this is reliving school memories)

warnings: fluff, implied smaller reader; i think it made more sense in my head but have it anyway bc i never wanna shut up about him, please applaud my restraint to not name this ‘boyfriend material’

twisted wonderland masterlist

It was true that wearing clothes was a foreign feeling when Jade first came to the shore all those years ago. But he had come to like the human custom, no matter how tedious it might seem at times. Not only did he realise the way one dressed held a lot of power in the way one was perceived by others, it had also served him in making some fond memories.

The ones he remembered most vividly, however, were those which featured you at the centre of them. Through various means, like the course they had attended or familiarising himself with different types of media above sea level, Jade had learnt that sharing clothes was a thing done between close friends or romantic partners, often being hailed as a sweet gesture and being positively received by characters and audiences alike. So when you had caught the eel’s interest, he had decided to see what the fuss was all about.

Despite his tendency to curate situations which would bring about whatever outcome he desired, the first time the opportunity arose had been a happy coincidence. That day, it had started raining cats and dogs right as the bell signalling lunch break rang. Luckily, Jade’s last class of the morning had been in the building the cafeteria was in, so he could watch in amusement as students swarmed towards the building with various forms of rain repellent keeping them dry- or not.

You had been one of the poor, unfortunate souls who had left their umbrella at the dorm that day, a point made abundantly clear by the way you had sprinted with your PE uniform jacket held over your head in a feeble attempt of shielding yourself. By the time you had made it into the dry hallway, your jacket had been absolutely drenched, the rest of your clothes not faring much better. Witnessing your predicament and seeing a chance to put his theory to the test, Jade had slinked over to your side.

“Oya, if I had known you were this fond of water, I would have invited you to the Coral Sea before,” the eel had said, startling you with his sudden appearance. Your reaction had only served for the polite smile on his lips to grow a tad bit wider. “Yet, here I was under the impression humans don’t like getting their clothes wet. Perhaps I have been wrong?”

“You know well enough this wasn’t intentional, so drop the oblivious act, Jade,” you had sighed, rustling through your backpack for something and subsequently taking your eyes off him. “So what do you want? If you’re trying to rope me into a deal over a little bit of rain, I’ll have to disappoint–”

Something warm and dry had landed on your shoulders then, your gaze landing on the black fabric draped over your form first and wandering back to the tall student afterwards. With your mouth parted, opening and closing in the search of something to say, you had borne a strong resemblance to a fish out of water.  

“I heard humans get sick easily after walking in the rain,” Jade had mused, tugging at his vest and shirt to make sure they sat correctly without his blazer, “and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“What are you–” You had shaken your head, overcoming your initial confusion as you began shrugging the jacket back off your shoulders. At that point you had been sure he had some ulterior motive and you hadn’t felt like picking up any shifts at Mostro Lounge that week. “I can’t take this from you.”

“Oh, but you can,” he had insisted with a smile, a gloved hand landing on your shoulder to keep the clothing in place. “If you are worried about my health, I am most touched. However, us mers are used to the cold and therefore aren’t as prone to catching one.”

“That wasn’t really what I was concerned about,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. “I’m more worried about whatever strings come attached with this thing.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I would abuse my fellow student’s misery for personal gain?” Despite his words, he had chuckled at your resolute ‘yes, you would’. The hand on your shoulder had pressed into your upper back then to bring you in closer in order to throw you off with the newfound proximity, disguised as shielding you from the throng of people heading to lunch. “If this is what stands in between you and caring for your health, how about this: In return for accepting my blazer, you accompany me to lunch? I’ll consider us even then, I promise.”

You had studied the vice housewarden more closely, yet, as usual, his expression did not give anything away. Just then a chilly breeze had blown through the corridor, making you tremble as you instinctively pulled the blazer tighter around your body. 

“Fine, I’ll accept,” you had relented through chattering teeth.

“Wonderful,” the eel had beamed down at you before guiding you forward, still with his fingers splayed over your upper spine. Students had parted like the sea when they had seen the second year approaching and it was a welcome change of pace from having to fight your way into a spot in the queue.

By the time you had found a table, you had slipped your arms through the sleeves of Jade’s jacket to better hold your tray. And when you rolled up the excess fabric to properly use your cutlery, Jade finally realised why lending someone your clothes was a popular trope in various media. 

To say the piece was ill-fitting was an obvious remark, with Jade easily being one of the tallest students around, you were practically drowning in his jacket. It had been eye-openingly endearing for him to say the least. And that was even without factoring in the expression on people’s faces when they realised whose clothes you had been wearing, the Octavinelle band around your left arm added to the context of the scene being a dead giveaway. Yes, as a born predator of the sea, a possessive side of him had revelled in the feeling of staking his claim over you in this way.

But he had shoved the notion down as you had asked him if he liked the food that day and how his morning had been. While he had been able to tell you were still a little wary, cautiously phrasing your responses at first, falling into a casual conversation with you was easy enough. When the anecdote of his brother doing something reckless again made you snort before laughing, he had filed it away as something he wanted to see and hear more of, especially when he was the cause for it.

Lunch had passed a little too fast for the moray’s liking but with one glance at his watch and then one at the still pouring rain, he had quickly devised a plan to monopolise your time to the fullest before returning to your classes.

“Allow me to walk you back to your dorm, so you can change before your next lesson,” Jade had smiled as he pulled out his umbrella, his arm hovering around your back as you had exited the cafeteria. “I assure you, this favour comes with no strings attached.”

Looking back at it years later, perhaps that last part had been a lie, though he was sure neither of you minded. Because after that rainy day, you had interacted more frequently with pleasantly changed feelings. 

On Jade’s side of things, he had been more fascinated with you and your reactions than ever and the image of you swaddled in his clothes had managed to stir these newfound emotions in him. You, on the other side, had started considering him as more than a devious loan eel and allowed the normally tightly locked thoughts and feelings for him to come out of their confinement little by little.

After playing cat and mouse for a while, you had taken all your courage, grabbed Jade by the collar and confessed, not able to withstand the tension and anticipation any longer.  Of course, he had reciprocated your feelings in teasing delight, which, as your relationship had become public, had easily catapulted you up the list of the school’s lunatics in the eyes of many. But you couldn’t have been happier and, the initial complexities of navigating a new relationship aside, Jade was a dream of a boyfriend if he wasn’t hellbent on prodding and poking you for his own amusement.

So it came as no surprise that, during your school years, you had spent a lot of time at each other’s dorms when Jade wasn’t dragging you up some mountain with him. At that point, you’d felt as comfortable in his room as in yours, even if half of it was shared with the sentient tornado that was Floyd, leaving one half to be pristine and the other opposingly messy. 

Jade fondly remembered the day you had come over to study for your upcoming potionology exam, your own dorm room too loud to concentrate and hoping to rope the merman into helping you with your prep questions, especially as his brother had been absent from their room that evening. While many regarded him as the sly and conniving one in the relationship, Jade had to admit you were very good at playing your cards right to where he found it increasingly hard to deny you. Perhaps this cheekiness was one of the things that drew him to you.

Considering you had given up on studying in your room pretty much immediately and had only grabbed your books before marching over to Octavinelle, you had still been in uniform when you joined him at his desk. Ever observant, Jade had quickly noticed the way you subconsciously pulled at the clothes or squirmed in your seat trying to get comfortable. 

So being the amazing and reliable boyfriend that he was, he had fished some comfortable loungewear out of his closet; he had initially bought it to round out his collection of essential clothing items, though frankly, he didn’t wear it much himself. With no plans to work at the Lounge that night, he had thought that it might be a good chance to give the comfy clothes another shot.

In retrospect, maybe he should thank your uncomfortable uniform. 

When you had both changed into the loungewear, he had not only been amused by the way the shirt, which was a regular fit for him, engulfed your upper body or how you had rolled up the ends of his sweatpants. With some playful huffs at his teasing, you had gone back to work until you had finished writing your study notes, at which point you had relocated to his bed, Jade joining you soon after.

Sitting side by side, your boyfriend had taken to quizzing you to see how much you had retained until he had felt your head drop against his shoulder, which was the first time he had taken note of how late it had gotten. For a few moments he had done nothing but study the way your chest rose and fell with deep breaths, your slightly parted lips inviting him to trace his thumb over the curve of them in featherlight reverence. To think that he of all morays would ever be treated to such a peaceful fragment of mundanity, it had made a warmth tug at his heart the same way the waves rolled over the shore in a calming rhythm, which persisted to this day.

It had pained him to wake you again, so could get ready for bed, persuading you sweetly into staying the night. Though he regretted neither getting to see your half asleep face while you had brushed your teeth, nor how he had been able to pull you close to him under the covers, curling his arms around you as his fingers had wandered over the warmth of your skin under his clothes. 

In the comfortable darkness of his room, you had exchanged hushed whispers and murmured confessions as you had settled in his embrace, lulled to sleep by the steady beating of his heart and the lips that  had spelled promises of safety and adoration against your skin. And for Jade, tugged deep into the crevice of his heart, there had formed the image of a future where this domesticity was normality. 

Years later, after graduation, Jade could proudly claim that this fantasy now lived at the forefront of his heart, that he could fall asleep and wake up to your body next to his, cradled by the allure of forever. After all, for no one but those closest to him would he be up with the rising sun to prepare breakfast, humming under his breath as he relived those memories. Though he considered all his efforts paid off when he heard you shuffle into the kitchen before two arms wrapped around his middle and your head leaned against his spine. 

“Good morning to you too, pearl,” Jade chuckled as finished plating the eggs on two plates, then knowingly slid a fresh cup of coffee within your reach. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did, until someone decided to just leave me all by my lonesome,” you grumbled, detaching yourself from him so you could lean against the counter and take a sip of coffee, prepared perfectly to your liking. “I like seeing my beautiful husband’s face first thing in the morning but alas…”

As you stepped into his field of vision, Jade noticed you had chosen not to wear a piece of clothing of yours, but had instead plucked his black dress shirt from the chair he had draped it over the day prior. His dress shirt and nothing else. While it was long enough on you to hide what was for his eyes only, it still showed off the beautiful curve of your legs, ending tantalisingly around your thighs. The few buttons you had closed still displayed the sharp contrast between your collarbones and the softness of the skin peeking through below. It would be all too easy to slip the garment from your shoulder…

“That does seem rather unfair,” Jade agreed as he stepped in front of you, hands ghosting along the expanse of your thighs to rest at your waist, the look in his eyes reminding you of his origins and sending shivers of excitement down your spine. “If you allow me, I have a few ideas in mind on how to make it up to you.”

Within the blink of an eye, his hands had steeled their grip around your waist and lifted you to sit on the counter as he took the opportunity to stand between your legs. Then, with a gentleness which did not match the show of strength, he carefully cupped the back of your head in his palm and connected your lips in a kiss as light and soft as the golden rays bathing your kitchen in light. Your own hands busied themselves with tousling his bed head once again, slowly sliding his black lock behind his left ear as you parted from one another, like a painter putting the finishing strokes on their magnum opus.

“Hm, I might be able to be convinced about forgiving you,” you teased, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his as you slung your arms over his shoulders and crossed them behind his neck in an effort to be even closer to him. 

“I must be the luckiest man alive,” he mused, meaning every word of his playful response.

Yes, after living on land for so long, Jade had truly taken a liking to the human custom of wearing clothes and all the different possibilities it held. Then again, the fondness those memories held probably had nothing to do with the clothes at all.

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

twisted wonderland: @savanaclaw1996 @honehbee42

[bucksboobs]

i was told to come ask you, and i will repeat this part, please treat this ask with kindness because i feel so dumb, i don't really understand why people are saying not liking tommy is homophobic. i'm only on tumblr, and i follow a very select few ppl, but every criticism i've seen of tommy has been bc of his past actions (which does feel like a major overreaction bc clearly the characters moved past it) the writing and acting choices, or a combo based fully on the fact that he's not who they wanted to be with buck. i just haven't seen anything that says they are hating him specifically for being a gay man, and i was wondering if i was missing something. sorry if this wasn't a good place to ask this!

So it’s never as blatant as “we hate him for being a gay man” it’s the language used. Calling him creepy, or gross, or a predator, or a groomer, or poisonous, or insisting that he’s sexually harassing Buck when he’s literally just flirting. The way they misinterpret every scene to say that Tommy doesn’t ACTUALLY have feelings for Buck and that he’s just a pervert in it for the sex. The way they gleefully imagine killing him in the most violent ways possible for the sole reason that he is dating Buck. Saying any gay man that is like Tommy sucks. It all adds up to this overwhelming feeling for myself and other gay men that we are not welcome in this space.

And the idea that we as mlm aren’t welcome is bad, but what hurts the most? The fact that we are so quickly swept aside by the people doing it as irrelevant to the conversation. “It’s just a joke, lighten up!” “It’s no different than what Taylor Kelly went through but suddenly you care because he’s a man?” There was a person in my notes just the other day telling me fandom “isn’t primarily about men” so my experiences don’t matter.

What hurts even more is the passivity that many people in the fandom seem to have towards the rising tide of ridiculous nonsense leveled at Tommy as just “fandom shipping tradition” people I used to follow and admire as Buddie shippers turned out to not fucking care about how they and their friends were harming the gay men in their fandom, when it’s based on a m/m ship. I’ve said this many different ways but the fact that gay men are only relevant when we’re fictional (and only if the fictional ones behave correctly and do nothing remotely problematic) feels a lot like fetishization… but you can’t say that because these people take that as an attack on fandom as a whole and they close ranks and accuse you of being a spoilsport.

So the homophobia is in the reckless use of language that evokes homophobic tropes, yes, but it’s also in the way its allow to fester and it’s more unacceptable to many people to call it out than it is to do it in the first place. And THAT creates a hostile environment for gay men, which is homophobia.

[dekusleftsock]

I think that there’s a fundamental misunderstanding of what exactly is…happening with Izuku’s character. Specifically in regards to chapter 425.

I’m glad that a lot more people generally recognize that Izuku is not a character that can be read at a surface level, given that he’s both a repressed person with built up emotion of basically everything and also a very glaringly HUGELY unreliable narrator, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with the ways I’ve seen this most recent chapter spoken about.

I see posts, comments, etc with ideas like “Izuku don’t suppress your emotions! Open up with people! It’ll be okay I promise!” When that’s fundamentally not what is happening here.

There’s always always ALWAYS been a distinct difference in character throughout horikoshi’s writing when he is showing that a character is:

A—Avoiding emotions, thoughts, ideas less than ideal for them. Not opening up when they probably should about their problems given that they’ve been handed the space to do so. Just genuinely not acknowledging, feeling, or expressing emotions that they don’t want.

B—Reflecting on the ways they feel about the world, themselves, or other people given their new perspective on a situation. Not outright reaching out to others to talk about these problems/feelings, but instead waiting until the moment they feel they have the most confidence to do so with their new outlook on their own life.

And genuinely, guys, to grab your BkDk attention rn, this is the exact reason why Ochako’s reflection on her feelings for Izuku and thereafter decision to pull away from them WAS NEVER GOING TO END IN OCHAKO EXPLODING WITH HER LOVE FOR HIM.

This was another common interpretation I saw of Ochako and Izuocha for a long time. That because she pushed these feelings away, they were somehow going to explode in this unbelievable way and she would “get the boy” because of it. That her arc would surround accepting her romantic feelings and that she can’t just push away how she feels for a career.

But yk. That didn’t happen. At all. Nowhere close even.

The same kind of goes for Katsuki, allmight, etc. They all had moments in their arc where it was spent genuinely reflecting, and the only reason we as the audience never connected it in the same ways we do ochako or Izuku was ALWAYS BECAUSE the narrative showed their inner thoughts while doing so (mostly because Allmight’s arc after losing OFA and Katsuki’s arc on what it means to be a hero were so intrinsically tied, both starting at the same time and ending at the same time during the final war. And because they were so tied this caused their own reflections, development, and thought process to be broadcasted to us frequently throughout their arcs… to each other. They also somewhat shared aspects with Izuku, but these were cherry picked more often than not, like dvk2 for example).

To us Katsuki never seemed to be.. idk, suppressing his anger in any way because we were always told what he was doing and why (side note: this is why I’ve always thought arguments against Katsuki were so weird, bc unlike characters like endeavor or Ochako he wasn’t like… hiding who he was and how he was changing. Ever. Like the audience knows at all times past basically season 3 what Katsuki is thinking and doing. Like how do you watch this happen, stare me dead in the eye, and tell me how much of a terrible and awful teenage boy he is. Like damn I didn’t think we were this dumb. This is also my theory as to why he’s most popular, his arc is very… in your face if that makes sense). Katsuki’s entire mini arc on reflecting his mistakes and his childhood and his future is spent TELLING YOU that it’s what he’s doing. (I’m referring mostly to the endeavor internship arc, the provisional license exam makeup, and basically everything in the war arc related to him leading up to bakugou Katsuki rising here)

And see, Horikoshi will stare you dead in the eye, tell you “this girl has taken into consideration that she doesn’t want to waste her time training her career focusing on a boy because he kinda caught her fancy”, and y’all will still say that this will explode in her face.

Y’all this is a series about learning how to manage emotions, maturity in relationship to one’s emotions, how to feel an emotion, but in a way that is helpful. Horikoshi isn’t telling you “go buck wild, feel everything all the time and always express it”, in fact he explores why you DONT do that! Through Toga or Shigaraki, they show how grief and anger can genuinely consume you. But he also shows why you shouldn’t just put everything in a box to never look at or acknowledge, or why you shouldn’t just let your grief destroy the world around you, or pretending that some emotions simply don’t exist.

I can’t say this enough, so let me say it now, mha is about the extremes of your psyche. That you should control something, but not too much. Everything can be harmful. Everything can be good.

Izuku is not controlling too much, he’s expressing just enough.

I LOVE shaming this dickhead at all times in all my posts. I love saying he’s an ignorant dipshit with a weird amount of distaste for a girl who just confessed to him. I’ve joked that chapter 348 is basically an entire chapter spent on Izuku calling Himiko a mean dyke. And yet I also believe he’s doing nothing WRONG here.

In fact, I’ll even say that this moment right here?

ISNT EVEN IZUKU DOING THE SOCIALLY APPROPRIATE THING ABOUT IT! But he’s still TRYING to reach out to someone he thinks MIGHT be able to understand. (And frankly, this moment is far deeper than what it’s being made out to be, to me it reads more like an unrequited friendship that Izuku both desires and has thought of them to have, while simultaneously showing the distance Ochako has successfully wedged between them for her own sake. Maybe it was always there though, maybe in weird, miscommunicated Horikoshi fashion, this is a representation of how Ochako always read all those “fun friend hangouts” as a little more than that, and without those feelings the friendship never really held any substance to her in the first place. Where Izuku saw his first real friend at UA, she saw little more than acquaintance)

Simultaneously, Izuku is genuinely reflecting on what it means for the world to change, to be a hero, to live after loss—and trying and failing to gain the connection he desires from individuals who can not and will not afford him that.

Izuku is ready for the world to change, a few select characters are also ready for the world to change (mirio, for example), but not nearly enough are. So maybe I’ll have to take this back if I’m proven wrong and I accidentally looked into this far past what everyone else did for no reason, but I genuinely believe with moments like this

And this

Aand this

That Izuku has come forward with that aspect of his character development. He’s reflecting on his new beliefs, not repressing his emotions for them.

[azulaaaaaaah]

atla/tlok characters that i think did *it* (but i just can’t prove it)

this is the most unserious post i’ve ever made. (AND I WANT TO PREFACE BY SAYING BY *IT* I MEAN KISSING)

Sozin and Roku

and history will say that they were just great friends…

this is the only one where ill legitimately die on this hill

like i’m 90% sure roku just showed Aang their friendship in the flashbacks to prevent awkwardly explaining to a 12 year old monk that he was romantically and/or physically involved with the person who committed a g*nocide against his people

LIKE CMON WHY IN THE WORLD WAS SOZIN SO PRESSED IN THE BACKGROUND OF ROKU’S WEDDING ??? AND FOR NO REASON?? WHY WAS THEIR FRIENDSHIP SO INTENSE?

sozin i feel loved roku (to an obsessive level) and roku literally dgaf. king shit

Wan and Raava

genuinely what the fuck was going on between these two. like i don’t even have any words

canonically at the very least it was a domestic partnership

S2 korra doesn’t make sense at the best of times. imagine trying to explain the intensity of this pair’s devotion to each other, to someone who hasn’t seen the show- all the while knowing raava is a disembodied spirit practically older than time

she’s the embodiment of everything good and light in the universe and he’s just wan. (and he’s wanough <3)

‘do you think we’re soulmates in every life?’

‘bet’

‘wait that’s not what i-‘

Cabbage Merchant and his cabbages (or at least a cabbage)

yeah i’m not touching this one with a 10 foot pole

Every member of the red lotus squad

ah yes it’s my favourite evil polycule

amidst plans to kidnap children and topple monarchies what else is there to do except… kiss.

let’s be real there’s something so inherently romantic about being apart of an elite, vaguely murderous anarchist squad

they all share one exact bed. it’s canon

(p’li somehow big spoons all of them)

The S2 Nomads

these dudes are the textbook definition of anti-monogamy

like they’re obsessed with love so i fully believe that they think ‘it should be spread amongst others’ or some shit

oh to be a travelling communist nomad in a band, wandering the wilds with my wife, and our several partners

they’re somehow the opposite of the red lotus and yet the same. they all share a single bed/sleep area

The dangerous ladies (but all separately)

i don’t ship any of these particularly and yet can still admit that it’s canon

ty-lee and azula have kissed bc azula probably made up a dumb excuse like ‘oh i don’t want my first kiss with a guy to be… erm… bad’

mai and ty-lee have kissed because they both probably have genuine, vaguely deep rooted romantic feelings for each other

mai and azula have kissed to purely spite zuko (and yknow what ty-lee too)

HOWEVER A KEY ASPECT TO THIS DYNAMIC: azula is completely unaware about the ty-lee and mai thing. it’s uh… better off that way.

Hakoda and Bato

i ship this about 50% but like… it’s got to have happened once right? considering all that down time they spent together on a boat away from the repercussions of water tribe society…

also considering they were leaders i doubt the other warriors were in a position to ever call them out on it

like cmoooooooon what’s a little kiss between the homies every now and again?

hakoda is where sokka gets his rizz/flagrant bisexuality from and i can’t change that guys

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to reapir fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it

[erme-aeterna-arts]

you can’t for real be stanning ricky september out there. you did notice he is also racist, right? and that he is not “changing the system from within”?

he did nothing even though he knew about the problem (people getting eaten), he says he tried to post tiktoks about it but they got blocked and then he just went on to saving himself only and the rest were to be eaten. he could’ve tried taking off other people’s bubbles and idk stopping them from walking into the mouths of the slugs (the slugs were so slow even when they did attack, if anyone tried to escape properly they likely would’ve succeeded!). he likely only helped this lindy because she came across him.

ricky shows up to save lindy as the doctor usually would (story-wise, to demonstrate how differently lindy treats ricky and the doctor), but also, importantly, he is very much unlike the doctor if you think about it even for a bit. it is also obvious from lindy’s reaction to him revealing that he just uploads the tiktoks and then goes to read a book, or from his “resistance” to the slugs. he presents himself as counterculture, as an intellectual, a fighter against the norms and the lies of the system, but lindy admires him for it, as opposed to her anger at even seeing the doctor on her screen, and that’s because ricky is none of the things he seems to claim, he is more than comfortable within the system, he benefits from it and he shares about not being on social media all day bc it makes him seem cooler and smarter, not because he believes that there are issues with the society.

moreover, and this is my most important point here because i see it debated, ricky is very dismissive of the doctor and keeps trying to interrupt him, when the doctor explains the codes to him, even though his very life depends on the precision and accuracy of those codes. and yes, it is because the doctor is black, and not because he already knew about the pulse codes (i’m adrresssing an argument i saw on this website already). otherwise, he would treat lindy the same for being parasocial with him and acting like she has skills/knowledge of the real world when she clearly doesn’t (a specific example, if you need one, would be the moment she talks about her very hard and complicated job, which distracts them from escaping the slugs and she definitely doesn’t get this treatment). and when the situation is the same and the disrespectful behavior is only directed at a person of color, that’s racism.

also, just because he turned off the bubble for most of the day doesn’t mean he left the white supremacist society, like he literally couldn’t have because there is a force field around the finetown. and those history books he read, i don’t think finetown allowed for any alternative ideologies, so the books he read must have been written by the white supremacists who built this town. so, none of this is actually a sign of him protesting against the system or anything. he is suppposed to seem like he is “educating himself”, but the viewer must consider his behaviour and realities and what the underlying values here are. the point of ricky’s character is that you should be questioning and not just accepting that if someone fits the pattern of progressiveness on the superficial level, they actually are progressive.

we don’t see as much of him as we do of lindy and the rest, he dies before the confrontation (the big reveal that it was racism all along, as some people put it), but who is to say he wouldn't have sailed off as well? maybe he would even lead them (they all follow him already) + he also very much fits into the “pioneer” image (the vocabulary used in the dialogue like “taming the nature like our ancestors did” is the red flag, it’s very classic of white supremacism and one of core concepts in the ideology of european colonialism). i can see him presenting himself as a leader and his knowledge as something that would protect them all, something they would build a new finetown with. what do you think all the history books he read were about again?

you can disagree with me on this last paragraph, because it’s not in the text and i’m theorizing based on the present evidence. the rest, however, is the text and is telling enough.

does ricky fly under your radar because "logging off the social media and touching the grass" is something often framed as progressive? this is not a rhetorical question, i genuinely don't know. still, i do hope this analysis would prevent the embarassment of making and reblogging all the "kneeling for ricky september" posts at least for someone.

[foreststarflaime]

Brainrotting about the nuance of the Am I a Monster dilemma in Crisis Core again (sorry if any of this is rambling I have been awake for over 20 hours on 4 hours of sleep bc my brain is stupid and refuses to let me get adequate sleep)

I find it’s somewhat easy to forget about the literal definition of the word in this context, at least for me because I want these idiots to stop self-destructing and live happy lives—but in older cultures especially (and here I’ll talk from the Ancient Greek side of things bc it’s what I’m most familiar with) the definition of monster is very literally just something that goes against the natural order of things, usually hybrids of different animals smashed together, like a chimera being a lion, goat, and snake in one body or a sphynx being a winged lion-woman. And in that sense, it’s unavoidable that they are right in calling themselves monsters.

But when the word monster gets brought up in a moral sense, in the context of what it means to be human, as we see so often these days (not saying no ancient authors ever did this or vice versa, it’s just more prevalent in more modern times from what comes to mind immediately for me), it’s not about the literal, it’s about the metaphorical, about the choices you make and how you choose to live your life. And in this sense (at least before their respective insanity arcs) they aren’t really monsters, they’re just people trying their best.

And I love how this duality plays out when each of them find out about the horrific experiments that have been done on them and the crisis starts.

Starting with Genesis—his is a character very connected to the first definition of monster, considering his love of Loveless, which seems to be an ancient epic of the cultural kind of the Iliad or the Odyssey (plus, as I’ve mentioned before, his last name in Greek literally means singer of epic poetry). So, if the Greek definition is foremost in his mind, it does make sense that he can’t shake the thought that he is a monster and have a mental breakdown as such. It makes sense that he fell first.

Then we have Angeal, also more closely tied to the first definition of monster, if we look at it in the older vs newer way—he’s a character very tied to tradition and honor, so it would make sense. Plus if you don’t buy that, then there’s the fact that he’s known Genesis all his life, so at least some of his thinking had to have worn off on him at some point. He also wouldn’t be able to shake the thought that he isn’t really entirely human, and of course he’d be bothered by it, having tied his worldview so tightly to upholding human morals and values—it makes sense he fell as hard as he did.

Now, saving Sephiroth for a bit longer, let’s look at Zack’s reaction to all of this. He definitely sees this dilemma from the point of view of the second definition of monster, as we see blatantly in the writing—see “SOLDIER doesn’t mean monster”, etc. He’s the youngest, the puppy, the idealist loyal to his friends until the end. He tries to impart this onto his friends, and although they do understand this on some level, it’s not enough to overpower the other definition of a monster in their minds, and therein lies the tragedy.

And then with Sephiroth, to exacerbate the tragedy of what he could have become even further, he’s pretty evenly tied to both definitions. He has distinctly inhuman features, which would bring the literal definition of monster to his mind, and his ‘mother’ is a 2000 year old alien. So no, he’s not entirely human, not literally anyways. But he’s also so, so human in all the ways that matter, at least before he went insane, and I think he’s aware of this too, at least enough to hold on to the desperate hope that this is true, and that having just a little bit of compassion makes the difference. But in Nibelheim, the weights keep dropping in the literally-a-monster side of the scale, and he judges himself unworthy, and the rest is history.

[stainedglasspanes]

Watching Ina11 (Ep 60 - 67)

Will there ever be good father figures in this series. Preferably not dead. Please. Someone needs to be happy.

Ep 60-61

Ep 62

Ep 63

Ep 64-65

Ep 66/67 (Recap so,,)

If I don't see any of them next season I will weep.

-----------

Season 2 finished!

Yippie aliens but also not aliens,, pspspsps I’ll take you away from that sorry excuse of a father figure pspsps

I have many feelings towards Seijirou that can’t be voiced but oh god this man deserved to get hit by Ulvida’s kick. Essentially manipulating a bunch of orphaned children to become soccer super soldiers is so wrong on so many levels. Pitting them against each other and give them ranks, sure that’s not gonna fuck up their self esteem and create a poisonous hierarchy.

Grief-stricken yes I get but dude?? Then going to adopt a boy that looks just like your dead son? Gosh I can’t even imagine what was hitomiko’s reaction to seeing this little boy was..

On the topic of Hiroto, whoo boy. I spent the remaining episodes just pissed off at Seijirou for being a piss poor dad. Hiroto is obviously very attached to him, but I gotta wonder if the love the old man showed him was just any misplaced fatherly love towards the image of his dead son he very obviously projected onto the kid. How tf did he treat Hitomiko? Dad is on your side until you voice your opinion, Hiroto you deserve a better father figure. All of Aliea deserves a parental figure that cared for them instead of seeing them as potential wells.

Fubuki recovered, which is good, but I feel like it was so rushed? Or is it better to say, wasted potential? The way Atsuya was treated as a sort of separate ‘persona’ that would disperse when Fubuki stabilized. I get that maybe they expected him to share on his own but look at him, all clammed up and frozen. If anything, the team not doing anything further added to the issue. It took the combined efforts of Someoka, Aphrodi and Gouenji to get to him, and 2 are hospitalized now. The way Gouenji worked with him is also kinda erm,, lowkey beating it out of him was a,, choice.

Kazemaru sweetie I beg of you keep the hair down for a little longer. But I also get where he was getting, Kazemaru joined soccer only to constantly suffer www (鬱丸 I now get). It’s a tad interesting that Kazemaru leaving, would be the tip off point for Endou. Bro was DEPRESSED. Gouenji, Someoka, Fubuki's whole breakdown, nothing phased this boy but oh suddenly Kazemaru leaving nearly sucked his soul out. But the ending didn’t really fix the issue?? How can you be sure that he won’t fall down a depression spiral bc inadequacy/being unable to keep up haunts him again,, or is that curse passed onto a different character now

Anyways having the World Cup (?) as the next arc is ???? I thought yall were the strongest team on Earth,, I saw my fuckass cat Fudou in the preview heehoo

[wayfayrr]

Alright, I wonder how long an ask can be. U asked for it!😝

Also, if u were curious, since I’ve only played Botw and most but not all of totk, 98% of the time my yandere self-aware ideas will be of Wild/Tears.

How does Wild/Tears feel about the fairies? Like, is he embarrassed that reader has to watch that? Does he worry what they think? Or is he just like “eh, I can’t control their upgrade animations, sorry”. Then how does he feel when reader thinks it’s kinda cute/funny? I don’t want to traumatize the poor guy, but I must admit watching the level four animation is slightly funny bc I feel so bad for him. And in level three when he covers his face is cute.

What about when he just has to sit there for 10 hrs his time? Listen, I wanna upgrade the darn champion’s tunic but the stupid upgrades require 2 of each farmable dragon Zelda item. And I couldn’t find her for so long it was annoying. Ik she follows a certain path but even so u have to just keep following the path hoping u eventually run into her. So I just decided to farm an item, then sit there for 10 minutes r time until she’s farmable again. So how does Tears feel? Am I wasting his time? Is he bored? If he had an animation for it would he fall asleep? Would he glare at me for making him sit there for 10 hours? Plus, ima be honest. For those 10 minutes of me just waiting, I’ll usually scroll on my phone. I’m not gonna stare at the tv for 10 minutes, sorry lol. So is he mad that I’m not paying attention to him and stuff?

What about if I laugh at him? Alright, I don’t do it That much lol, just if I make an embarrassing mistake w him and he looks a little funny. Would he be embarrassed? Mad? ….?? I think he’s cuuute! It’s fiiine, right…?😭

Thinking about my one ask where I used him for science, totally not using bombs on him for any other reason! Anyway, so I have to admit, his overheating animation I like. I’m all for angst/whump w characters. Whenever I read AO3, 98% of the stories r angst/whump for Wild/Tears. Sicfic? Yes please! Nightmares? Yes please! Psychological torture? Sign me up! There was this one fic someone wrote about Wild being hit by a curse that trapped him in his memory next time he unlocked one, so he had to watch it over and over and over. The rest of the chain had to save him. Tho, if it makes u feel any better, I only like happy endings, no open ended ones, no sad ones, or character deaths. Nope. Fairy tale where they all lived happily ever after please and thank u lol. So anyway, I got sidetracked lol. My question was, would he be mad if I just put the game on the clothes menu when he’s overheating so he doesn’t lose any hearts over it, just watching him do it for a minute or two?

Sometimes I need to wear like one clothing item per outfit so I can use like 3 different abilities. For example, maybe bandana to climb faster, gloom shirt for an extra heartbreak, and snow pants bc it’s freezing? And sometimes I’ll complain that he looks ugly, well, not him, but the outfit, and say that I wish I could make him look cuter but I need these abilities atm. Does he hate the outfits like I do? Does he care more about function? Does he hate that I care so much?

How does he feel not being able to talk? Like literally every other character can talk except him. And he can’t do anything by himself. Everything he does is either a programmed animation or an action by my controller. I bet he has a lot he wants to say but can’t. Does he ever worry that if he were to get out and see me, what if he couldn’t talk to me??

🐰

yeah it's always a lot easier to think about the links you know better for stuff like this ngl, so I don't blame you for sticking to them. plus wild and tears are just fun too right? :3c

so starting from the top -

I think the fairies are a touchy subject for him, if you like the cutscenes then he can set his discomfort about being picked up and kissed somewhat - don't get me wrong he doesn't enjoy it but for your happiness he'll do it as many times as you make him (although, unless he finds a way to override the controls then it's not really like he has a choice in it) he'll make notes about how you like him acting in certain ways though - I mean if you like seeing him as a blushy mess covering his face in the game then you'll like it more when he's doing it in person right? Please don't make him recreate the level four one though.

To be honest, there's nothing that you could do to him that he could ever consider a waste of time. would he prefer you to be actively engaged? sure. Is he bothered if you're still there but just waiting for a bit for the dragon to recharge? Not really, yeah he'd prefer to be doing more, but at the same time it gives him a chance to observe and to get more of a grasp of how the game works while it's on and running compared to when he's robbed of his body and is left a being floating in a desolate void of numbers and machine code. He can relax and still have feeling and eyes on you and your eyes on him every now and then even though it's not as often as he'd like. as for the time? I think once he became aware he stopped running on hyrules time, so it's only ten minutes for him too. Ten minutes that granted feel longer than that cause of the scenery, but still only ten minutes. if it were a situation where he was still in a hyrule then he'd be further detached from anyone else. (my thoughts are if the game is left in standby on the switch then it's all still loaded and the links have free reign but if it's closed and you're playing another switch game then it tosses them into the abyss)

laughing at him for being cute is all good but please don't make fun of him ;-; he's only doing what you make him do after all!

I need to write more whump and hurt/comfort for tears actually, thanks for the reminder Well, he's not getting hurt by it -soooo he's kinda a bit deluded into thinking that it's another show of love for him. You simply love all the sounds that he's making <3 (and I don't blame you, his whimpers are actually just so adorable?????) You care so much that you're not letting him get hurt for your happiness!!!!

I think he takes it as a compliment that you care so much about how his outfits look, he wants to look his best for you too!!! If he could he'd find a way to stack the different bonuses so that you could treat him like a proper dress up doll without having to worry about the environment and how it impacts him :c he doesn't care what outfit he 'wears' cause it's not like he's actually wearing and interacting with it. it's glued to him like a second skin so whether you're keeping him shirtless or putting him in the thickest shirt possible there's no difference to him just don't mod him so that he's no longer himself please

The fact that there's a chance he wouldn't be able to communicate with you is something that he worries about alot, not even just not having a voice. He'd be fine with being mute if he can write or sign to you, hell he could probably delude himself into being fine that he couldn't do that if he could move freely and hold you. what scares him the most is the idea that he'd be like a puppet cut, that if he gets out that without the code acting as his strings he falls limp like a puppet cut loose. that's what's horrifying to him. anything else he could learn to live with, but that potential keeps him from making any rash movements where the cost could outweigh the benefits. I like to think that out of desperation, (this goes for sky in the fic too) they stole another characters voicebank from another game :) one that speaks your native tongue preferably, but at the very least one that shares a language you speak

[tevanbuckley]

Hi! Heading into season 8 with buck and tommy, do you think it’s about time they cement a relationship for buck as a long term or endgame potential? My impression is that Tim doesn’t like to have certain things set and stone to leave potential for whatever it is he wants to explore but going into the 8thseason, with no idea on how much longer the show will go on for before being cancelled or before a main(s) decide to leave, I would say it’s time to commit to a relationship for buck and they’ve built a good foundation with him and tommy.

also because I can’t imagine another season of the same, relationship -> breakup -> single -> relationship and so on. Buck’s love life being secure in the sense that he’s no longer searching for love also gives potential for newer, fresher storylines to be explored. I just don’t know if a part of Tim is holding out hope that buddie will get greenlit at some point so he’ll continue this single/relationship/breakup trajectory with buck and eddie until that can happen or if he’s ready to move on and let them both find happiness. But if it is the former, to me that would really hurt the characters development and growth and would make even canon buddie feel just bland in a way because they just did it because “they could” now.

my desire is that Tim commits to this relationship and continues to develop it in a way that by 8b affirms them as endgame, I think it would be a mistake not to and let the development fizzle out.

the paradox of tv is that “this couple is for all intents and purposes endgame” and “anything could happen so there is no real endgame” have to awkwardly co-exist. bc nobody would balk at the idea of calling madney or bathena ‘endgame’ yet irl considerations could interfere. or what if tracie gets offered a series regular gig somewhere down the line?

But, this isn’t grey’s, once they have something that works they seem to want stick with it. Even when they had to write JLH out for her maternity leave they did it in a way that made it pretty easy for madney to reconcile.

I think when tim says he “doesn’t have a plan” what he really means is he doesn’t want to write himself into a corner (imo this is what happened in s6 with the couch metaphor but that’s a whole other post). despite being chaotic, writing as they go, does reduce the risk of random loose ends they can’t tie up because a sl got killed half way through cooking.

Having buck in a LTR gives them space to explore new things with buck (bisexuality or not) so now that they’ve found something that does work, that’s had positive audience and critical reception, I think they’d be insane to throw that away.

Also, idk how much I buy into the idea that tim’s secretly a buddie shipper and the only reason he’s not doing it is bc tptb said no. I think he agrees it’s a plausible interpretation of buck and eddie’s relationship, that doesn’t mean it was intentional, that he has any interest in doing it, or that he thinks it would work well as a story within the confines of a network procedural.

I’ve seen others question the longevity the show has at this point but idk, the only character I see stagnating a bit is unfortunately eddie (but I’ll hold off until s8 for a final judgement). And on a practical level, abc has just poured a shit ton of money and marketing into the show, so assuming the ratings don’t tank in s8 I’m optimistic we’ll get a s9. Yes it’s expensive to make, but more than it needs to be tbh. Like there were cheaper ways to have that cruise ship sink, they did not need to write a prohibitively expensive hijacking into it.

really the tldr; is that we don’t know what the future holds but I think there’s every reason to be optimistic the shows heading in a positive direction.

[subwayfloorlicker1978]

every single time i try to speculate on what jax’s “big bad secret” is going to be revealed as later in the story i get stuck. repeatedly.

like okay. if you haven’t noticed, goose has been foreshadowing this like a lot. the little detail of jax having keys that can open any door that seems a LITTLE too specific for it to just be a one-off thing. the clear implication that jax’s room is supposed to hold a secret of some kind (cough the pins). on her list of content warnings for tadc she literally put “jax” as one of the warnings. (presumably as a half joke but she’s very monotone so im not really sure.) apparently he “likes a lot of things he’s not willing to admit”, which is ominous as hell?? his dynamic with pomni is MESSY now apparently.

so my guess is that he’s going to do something absolutely, completely unforgivable in the future. or something really bad happens related to him or something idk. SOMETHING related to him contains dark themes, but the more i think about how the environment of the digital circus works, the more confusing it gets.

like. okay well he can’t exactly kill any of his castmates so that’s sort of out of the question. can he make someone abstract? possibly. maybe that’s what happened to queenie… but i think the rest of the cast would be WAY more unforgiving/cold to him if that actually happened. so probably not. i think with what we know now, maybe he could realistically set caine off so badly that it results in like… super dire consequences. like maybe the world starts glitching out and makes someone abstract bc of it or something. eyedeekay!

it’s also difficult too bc there’s so much we still don’t really know about the circus. like before episode 3 we had absolutely no idea that caine’s emotional state affected the “structural integrity” of the circus i guess.

also… and i know people are gonna disagree with me on this… i do not think we know enough about jax to have an “in character” image of him in our heads. like yeah his surface level traits are there but we really don’t know a lot about him. like at all. i think the closest we’ve ever been shown to “the real jax” (excluding the crumbs that goose has given us) are those scenes in episode 1 where he breaks character a little bit and looks super tired as if he’s putting up a facade. which i DO think he is, it’s just that his motivations are super important too and we’re completely unaware of what he’s actually planning on doing later on….

also extra note before i finish my silly rant. goose said on twitter that she saw a piece of fanart for tadc that mirrors something that happens later on in the story and ive seen quite a few pieces on the tumblr front page for the #tadc hashtag that depict jax abstracting …so. idk if its gonna happen though teehee. okay bye guys.

[aquaquadrant]

chaos theory trailer moodboard (+insane rambling below the cut)

THE INTRO TOOK ME OUT. i’ve literally envisioned what the newscasts/interviews about the nublar six would be like after their return and AUUUGHHHH. “we survived because we had each other” YEA YEA YEA THAT’S IT THAT’S MY FUCKING THESIS FOR THE ENTIRE SERIES SUMMED UP IN A SENTENCE I’M. INSANE. ohhhh i teared up seeing all the kids again, and ben giving the peace sign that’s my boy that’s my fucking son boy 😭😭😭

darius living in an isolated cabin with extensive DIY perimeter warning system and reacting to unexpected visitors with the business end of an electronic prod MY BELOVED. he is traumatized and i’m so so here for it. part of my issue with the epilogue at the end of jwcc was how… well-adjusted they all seemed but of course that was just a BRIEF snapshot to their current lives. i don’t think anyone could go thru what they did and just move on with their lives completely unaffected.

BEN…. either he responded to his trauma by completely immersing himself in gym culture, like many teenage boys, or his work on manta corp island with mae has involved lots of manual labor bc GODDAMN HE GOT BIG. i can’t say i’m a huge fan of his design, i actually prefer the jwcc epilogue ben, but at least they fixed his eyes. and ben and darius have always been one of my fave duos so i will take them in any capacity. even with chad!ben 😔

but the premise has me SO excited. as thrilling and compelling as classic dinosaur danger is, the real villain of the jurassic park franchise has always been humans. human greed, human cruelty. the commodification of science, disrespect of natural law and order, disregard for safety and due diligence. so seeing they’re being targeting by a mysterious someone (daniel???) in a thriller-type story, while dinosaurs ALSO HAPPEN TO BE RUNNING AROUND, has me PUMPED. it’s very in-line with jwcc’s theming so it should feel like a natural continuation.

animation looks about on-par with the first show, and it’ll be neat to see new backgrounds/settings. no hints of any new characters yet, and while it seems like darius and ben’s goal is to warn the other campers, not sure how much we’ll actually get to see of them. sadly i cannot fathom jenna ortega returning to voice brooklyn, she’s been rocketed to an entirely different level thanks to wednesday. i wouldn’t be opposed to a recast if they could make it believable. and GOD i’d love more yasammy to make an appearance 🙏

[ace-of-zaun]

The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time: Pt. 8

Silco x f!reader - 7.6k words - SFW

cw:  fluff, angst, anxiety/dread, injury, medical anxiety, health and illness, taking care of people, talk about self-defence and physical assault, get your seatbelts on lads we’ve got another emotional rollercoaster chapter, but with a fluffy ending bc it’s me

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7

If someone had told kitchen-utensil-salesperson you that one day you’d be having to bribe the Eye of Zaun’s daughter, to keep her quiet about your relationship with said kingpin, you’d have laughed in their faces and told them to get lost.

But alas, here you were.

You’d had a long chat with Jinx about why you weren’t telling people and why she couldn’t tell anyone either. And after surprisingly little convincing from the two of you, Jinx had agreed to keep your secret… for a price. Sweets once a week for every week she kept it a secret. 

Dear Janna, was this girl Silco’s daughter.

She’d also sweetened the deal by throwing in a few extra game nights every month, so that’s how you find yourself sitting at Silco’s desk, Jinx on your lap in the chair opposite his, as you play yet another round of Gun Bun.

Silco is, rather annoyingly, picking incredibly obnoxious words on purpose when it’s his turn, (seriously, how many nine-year-olds know the word egregious?) so you decide that this is the perfect opportunity to mess with him.

At first, you simply decide to spell all of your words wrong, irritating him just a little bit more with every line drawn as he fails to guess the correct letters.

Once he cottons on to that, correcting your spelling like a disappointed teacher, you move onto the next level…

You start making words up.

Jinx giggles and squirms about in your lap when you whisper your nefarious plan to her, earning a narrowed look of suspicion from your criminal(ly gorgeous) boyfriend.

Unfortunately, this tactic only works for one round, because when you finally complete the drawing of Mr. Bunny shooting a gun (complete with the obligatory BANG!) and Silco still hasn’t guessed all the letters, Jinx reveals the word with a menacing glee.

And Silco loses it.

“That is not a word,” he says, immediately glaring at you since you’re the obvious instigator.

He looks so grumpy and so adorably exasperated, you just want to kiss him until he forgets both his own name and just how difficult you like to make his life. 

“It is!” you argue, staring at him whilst you valiantly battle against the urge to smile, before revealing, “I just made it up.”

His whole expression drops into the most incredulous deadpan. 

“Darling.”

“What?” you counter. “All words are made up! It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with me.”

There’s a pause where Silco just stares at you, mismatched eyes glimmering with something just on the edge of dangerous. 

You stare back, raising one cheeky eyebrow in challenge. That does it. 

“I think it is best we retire for the evening,” he says, tone clipped and impatient, though his eyes never once leave yours.

Jinx whines in disappointment, climbing from your lap onto the desk just so she can launch herself into Silco’s lap. She clings to him like a kitten until he finally gives in to her and agrees to one more game, as long as it doesn’t involve any words. 

Which of course means your absolute favourite activity in the whole, wide world. Drawing! 

You teach them both a game you played as a child, one where a piece of paper is folded three times, in a way where you can only see one section at a time. 

The first person secretly draws the head and shoulders, with some lines over the fold into the next section so the second person can join it up. They then flip it over to the next section, where the second person draws the torso and arms, while the last person then draws legs and feet, making sure to keep your separate drawings hidden until the very end, where you reveal the character you’ve all made together. 

You go first to demonstrate, drawing the head of a smiling girl that looks a little bit like Jinx (you know, if Jinx were a squiggly, blue doodle). 

After Jinx and Silco have both drawn their sections, you open up the paper and spread it flat on the desk, revealing, to Jinx’s delight, an absolute monstrosity of a character.

Underneath your smiling face, Jinx has doodled a thin torso with long spaghetti arms that loop round and round until their hands rest on their hips. But it’s nothing compared to Silco drawing his own boots and somehow forgetting that he needed to draw legs as well. 

You play this game for a few rounds, until it’s Silco’s turn to draw first. Except he takes a millennium, sketching with his pen like he’s in the middle of an art class. But it’s only when you spot him gently rocking the chair from side to side, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, that you realise he’s trying to lull Jinx to sleep.

And surprisingly, it works, humming quietly under his breath until she falls asleep in his lap, adorably curled up with her face against his chest. 

Once he’s certain that she’s fast asleep, he lifts his head to give you a knowing look before carefully lifting her and carrying her back to her bedroom. You take the look to mean that you should get changed into your pyjamas so you can both cuddle up when he returns from putting her to bed. 

But when you stand up from your chair, groaning as you stretch your tired body towards the rafters, you take a moment to peek at Silco’s drawing, sliding the paper over the varnished wood until you can finally see. 

And you swear your heart melts in your chest when you look down at it. A portrait of you, looking happier than you’ve ever seen yourself looking. At least, up until you’d moved in with Silco. Now, you’re pretty sure you look like this most of the time. 

You’ve begun to stay in his bedroom a few nights a week, usually when he doesn’t stay up working until dawn like a madman. 

Your (imaginary) spy training has gotten a real workout every morning, ensuring no-one sees you make the dash back to your own bedroom, then getting dressed to go and meet Silco in his office like you hadn’t spent the whole night in his bed.

Honestly, part of you wonders if it would just be easier to move some of your clothes into his bedroom, but you’re not sure if he’d want that. The man does have a lot more clothes than you do. 

And what if he’s not ready for you to both officially move in together? How would you even approach asking? Should you just do it and blame the goblins when he asks if you put them there? (They’re cheeky little bastards, you know, they’ve stolen enough of your socks from the washing machine.)

You’re just preparing to leave the office, peering around the corner of the doorway to make sure there’s no-one in sight. You’d left the kingpin snoring in his bed just moments ago, and it’s far too early for Sevika to be anywhere near The Drop, so you’re pretty confident you’re not gonna be caught.

Crouching down a little feels like a good, sneaky spy move, so you bend your knees slightly, duck your head, and begin to tip-toe down the hallway as quietly as you can.

And honestly, even after only a few steps in, you’re genuinely starting to feel like you could break into one of those fancy art museums Topside and complete the heist of the century. That is, until a low voice calls out behind you.

“What in Janna’s name are you doing?”

Janna herself would be proud of the way you hold in the blood-curdling scream that threatens to erupt from your vocal folds.

Instead of waking up everyone in the entirety of Zaun and probably some of Piltover, you clutch your chest and hiss out a wheezing, “Holy fucking fuck-”

You spin around to glare at Silco who is standing in the doorway to his office, coffee cup in hand as he leans nonchalantly against the frame. 

How didn’t you hear him sneak up? And how the hell did he manage to wake up from being borderline comatose AND make himself a coffee in such a short amount of time? 

You squint at him suspiciously as if that’ll make him reveal all his secrets. Maybe he should be the spy…

Silco looks rather amused as he watches you. 

“Has anyone ever informed you that you possess quite the potty mouth?” he asks, in that raspy morning voice that is far too hot for its own good. 

“Has anyone ever informed you that it’s rude to try to give your girlfriend a heart attack on purpose?” you shoot back.

He holds his free hand to his t-shirt clad chest in mock offence.

“I can assure you, my love, I was attempting no such thing,” he protests with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen in your whole entire existence. 

You point at him as a threat. 

“Boy, don’t test me. I’ll take you out of my will.”

Silco’s face drops into a faux upset, slapping one hand against his cheek dramatically. 

“Oh no, whatever will I do without your collection of novelty ice-cream scoops?” he questions sardonically.

You return it with an overexaggerated gasp, (but deep down you’re secretly pleased he’s starting to play along with your melodrama; oh how the turn tables).

“How dare you!” you exclaim, throwing both hands up to cage your poor, shattered heart, before you turn your nose up to sniff haughtily. “That’s it, I’m breaking up with you.”

Silco swiftly downs the last of his coffee and then tosses the mug onto the sofa behind him blindly, instantly changing your mind on what you just said.

How the fuck did he do that without it breaking into a million pieces? And more importantly, how is he easily the hottest man in the world? 

“I think not,” he practically growls, stepping forward into the corridor. 

“You can’t stop me,” you announce loftily. “Me and the Scoop Troop are outta here.”

He advances on you slowly until he’s leaning down to speak into your ear, the roughness in his timbre sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Then I suppose I shall have to convince you to stay.”

Abruptly, Silco leans down to pick you up, deftly swinging you up into a bridal carry, forcing you to try your best not to squeal and accidentally wake everybody up. 

Then, he turns on his heel and carries you back in his office, kicking the door shut behind you as you giggle breathlessly into his chest. 

Maybe the reason you look so much happier now after moving in with Silco, is because you are. 

-

Of course, spy training in the mornings is not the only kind of training you embark on. 

True to his word, Silco begins to teach you self-defence after the multiple attacks you’ve endured since accepting the job as his negotiator. (To be fair, you’d endured some during your time at the market stall too, but that had been at a significantly lower danger level compared to this.)

So you’re in the bar one early afternoon, a few of the tables pushed out of the way to give you room to properly move about. Silco has given strict orders that no-one is to enter the bar until you’re finished, which had earned a huff of annoyance from Sevika, who would be forced to take the long-winding emergency exit in and out of the building.

Standing across from Silco in the cleared space, you ready yourself to learn some basic defence, hoping it’ll trump your current tactic of just running away really, really fast… (okay, fine, a moderate jog at best).

You’d hoped to learn how to properly use the knife Silco had gifted you in the market, excitedly bringing it along in the hopes that he’ll show you some cool moves.

But he’d confiscated it the very second you’d taken it out of the box and nearly dropped it on your own foot, blade down. 

So… self-defence it is, for now. 

Your boyfriend (smoking hot; an utter bitch; an absolute icon) stands opposite you, hands clasped behind his back as he talks. 

“Today I will show you some basic movements that will allow you to disengage if an attacker were to grab onto you,” he explains, reminding you of your old geography teacher (who was also your everything-teacher because, you know, Zaun). “Then, depending on how well you-”

Silco continues to tell you his lesson plan in detail, but honestly, you stop listening the second you notice that his shirt sleeves are rolled up. And he’s wearing a different waistcoat. It looks a little older than the usual ones he wears, but it’s still hot. Really accentuates his slutty little waist.  

Your cheeks get warm just thinking about it. 

Is it hot in here or is it just you? 

And gods, isn’t he pretty with his hair a little bit messy, those dark waves just the tiniest bit mussed up. And wouldn’t he look even prettier if you ran your hands through it and maybe put your lips on-

“Are you listening?” Silco cuts in. 

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, positively startled at the interruption. 

“Yes, sir,” you blurt out.

He smirks in response which does not help your predicament in the slightest. 

“Very well,” he nods, bringing both hands to rest on his hips. “We will begin by learning a disengagement technique that would be useful if somebody were to-”

You swear you’re trying to listen.

Honestly.

But that voice. And the way his lips move when he talks. 

And fuck, it’s hot when his throat bobs when he swallows and-

“Are you ready?”

Uh oh, you did it again. 

“Huh?” you mutter, dragging your gaze away from his throat.

“I said, are you ready to try the movements I just explained?” Silco asks, raising one eyebrow expectantly. 

“Of course I am,” you scoff confidently, despite having not listened to a single word he’s just said. “I’m practically a cage fighter at this point. I could take you down faster than you could say 2-in-1 decarboxylator and herb infuser.”

He doesn’t ask. In fact, he’s stopped asking what the hell you’re talking about when you’re both busy because it more often than not just leads to a twenty minute monologue, which he’s more than happy to listen to as you lie in bed together. But not when you’re about to learn important skills like how to defend yourself in a fight.

“Alright then, show me,” Silco responds, stepping closer to you to do whatever the hell he’s been talking about for the last five minutes. 

Suddenly, he reaches out and grabs a handful of your shirt with one hand, scrunching it up right next to your collarbone. 

Your body jolts forward slightly with the motion, eyes flicking up to gawp at him in alarm. 

But instead of flipping you over his shoulder and breaking your spine (you assume that was the intent), Silco just looks down at you, waiting patiently for you to make your move.

Of course, you have no idea what you’re doing (ever), so you just stand there like a rat in headlights, staring up at him in awe. 

“Grab onto your shirt like I told you, darling,” he instructs softly when you still don’t do anything. 

“It’s okay, you can have it if you want,” you whisper back in a daze. 

“No, grasp the fabric with this hand,” he says, gently guiding your hand to fist the material, right next to where his hand is still holding onto it. “And then grab onto my wrist with your other hand.”

You do and suddenly, you feel like you’re in a sauna. 

Why’s he grabbing your shirt like that? And how in the actual fuck can somebody’s wrist be so goddamn hot?

“Now pull your shirt away from me with your hand and push my wrist away with the other,” Silco continues, seemingly unaware of how flustered you are. 

Oh, so that’s what he’s trying to get you to do. 

You hesitate for a moment, blankly staring at his arm. Only then does Silco notice your reticence, but he must put it down to nerves because the grip on your shirt lessens slightly. 

“It’s alright, my love, just try your best,” he tells you soothingly. 

You smile up at him, utterly dazzled by his… him-ness. 

“Okay.”

You just want to impress him. To make your silly little guy as proud of you as you are of him. 

So you try your best…

Which of course means putting way too much power into it. 

With absolutely zero warning, you shove him away from you at the same time as you rip your shirt from his grasp, the force causing you to stumble and trip yourself up on your feet. Instinctively, you reach out and grab onto Silco’s waistcoat, pulling him down with you. 

He just about manages to catch the back of your head before it smacks against the floor, but  can’t save himself from crashing down on top of you.

Your fingers stay latched onto him as he leans up to check on you, hand still cupping the back of your head protectively. 

“Are you alright?” he asks frantically, rapidly looking over you for any injuries.

Your brain must have short-circuited because in lieu of answering, you simply gaze up at him in shock.

The fall appears to have knocked some of his hair loose, now hanging down over his forehead in strands, and sweet Janna, this should be a crime. 

It’s not fair. How are you supposed to do anything or even think straight with this?

Silco cups your cheek and calls your name, clearly panicked. 

“Can you hear me?”

It’s too much for your poor heart, so give you in and press your lips against his in a passionate kiss.

Silco freezes for a split second before letting out a startled, hmpf!

He moves back, breaking the kiss to hold both of your hands against the floor to stop you from leaning up. 

“Darling, this is serious! You cannot kiss me in the middle of training,” he huffs, exasperated.

You hope the puppy-dog eyes will earn you your forgiveness. 

“But you’re just so cute.”

He sighs, head hanging down low for a brief second before he meets your gaze again.

“Are you injured?”

“No. Are you?”

Silco appears to be relieved, but also a little perplexed. 

“I’m fine, darling. How did you lose your balance so easily?” he asks. “It was supposed to be a simple manoeuvre.”

“I uh… I got distracted,” you say bashfully.

Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. Please don’t read my mind. 

Luckily, he just runs a hand through his hair, trying to put it back in place. He fails spectacularly. 

“You cannot get distracted in a fight, you must be vigilant at all times,” he tells you, like he’s trying to be stern. 

You take no notice. 

“Even if the person I'm fighting is ridiculously hot?”

Silco ignores the question (despite the fact that the tips of his ears are turning the loveliest shade of red) and continues pretending to be strict. 

“Let’s try getting out of this hold,” he says. “What do you think would be the best way to escape from this position?”

You don’t even bother looking for a way to escape, still too focused on giving some love to your mans.

Leaning up as far as you can, you deliver a quick kiss to his nose, which, to your absolute delight, only makes him blush even more. 

He says your name as a scold.

“What did I just say?”

You toss your head to the side and whine, rumbling your legs a little against the floor like a child. 

“Why can’t I just do this if someone attacks me? I feel like it’s kinda working.”

“Do what?” Silco asks with a frown.

“Kiss them.”

And gods, you swear the noise that emanates from his chest is a growl.

“Absolutely not,” he grunts, pressing himself slightly closer to you until you involuntarily squeak.

Silco releases his grip on your hands and climbs off of you, helping you to stand up so he can dust off your trousers. 

Over the course of the next hour, he does actually teach you one or two methods to escape someone’s grasp, but perhaps more usefully, he explains that it’s better to focus on prevention of attacks, rather than relying on moves that you’re probably going to forget when filled with adrenaline.

But just knowing that you’ll have both a slew of bodyguards and a little bit of knowledge in self-defence makes you feel a bit more confident, which was probably the only reason you agreed to learn in the first place.

Of course, the impromptu lesson ends when you trip again and nearly break your nose falling into a table, this time when you’re only trying to get a glass of water. 

Being led carefully back upstairs by Silco, he exhaustedly suggests that training takes place in his office from now on, to which you ask if you can be wrapped up entirely in bubble wrap in what you would call your Safety Suit.

You get no response, which in your books is not strictly a no, so you make a mental note to add an industrial amount of bubble wrap to the next product order you fill out.

Lacing your fingers with his, you give him the biggest, most affectionate smile as you follow him upstairs to the shower, wondering just how in the hell you got so lucky.

-

It’s only a few weeks later that Jinx gets sick, somehow catching a head cold that thankfully isn’t too concerning, just a bit of a temperature that puts her in bed for a few days.

Although, much like her father, she's incredibly demanding. Which of course only multiplies tenfold the second she starts to feel under the weather, insisting either you or Silco be with her all day every day. So the two of you take shifts, juggling paperwork, meetings, and spending time with Jinx, as well as trying to look after yourselves.

It works for a few days, distracting Jinx when she gets bored or frustrated, coercing her to eat and drink, the three of you even spending time together to discuss her new invention ideas while she’s stuck in bed.

Then, it all goes downhill from there. 

You’re on Jinx duty one afternoon, down in the kitchen and in the middle of making her a warm drink when a loud commotion erupts from the bar. Your head pops curiously around the door frame only to be greeted with the sight of utter chaos; a slew of the club’s bouncers and Silco’s usual bodyguards frantically rushing through the club.

For a brief second, you wonder if there’s a security convention happening that you hadn’t been made aware of.

But the moment you spot the Doctor slinking through doors and up the stairs towards Silco’s office, your heart drops in your chest.

He’s supposed to be at a meeting right now with Sevika, across town.

Or will it have finished by now? Would he have had time to walk all the way back to The Drop?

Fuck, what if something happened during the meeting?

Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay, you slip through the crowd and up the stairs, all the while hoping you’ll find your boyfriend in his office as normal, pacing in front of the window like he usually does when there’s been a hitch in the plans. 

But when you reach the doors, you find two more burly guards blocking the entrance. 

You suck in a breath of air and take measured steps down the corridor until you’re standing in front of them. 

“Hey guys, I need to talk to Silco,” you say as calmly as possible, pointing to the door behind them. 

“Sorry, can’t let you in,” one of them says, barely even sparing you a glance.  

You frown. 

“Why? What’s happened?” you ask, trying to hide the wobble in your voice. Then, at the risk of sounding too involved, “Is he okay?”

“There’s been an incident,” the other grunts. 

You hold in the urge to scream and respond as courteously as you can given the situation. 

“Yes, I gathered that, but it’s really important that I talk to him.”

The guards barely look at you, as if you’re just a fly buzzing in front of them. 

“Sorry. Protocol.”

Your fists clench at your sides. 

He’s your partner, for Janna’s sake! 

For all you know, something terrible could’ve happened and these two chumps are treating you like you’re the maid! As a matter of fact, you’re pretty sure you rank higher than these two in the pecking order anyway. 

You put on your meanest face and glare up at them, channelling all your Eye of Zaun energy.

“Look, I don’t give a rat’s arse about protocol, I need to see him right-”

Even just the mention of protocol reminds you of Jinx, who you’d completely forgotten about in all the hubbub. 

Your mouth drops open and you spin on your heel mid-sentence, racing down the corridor to her bedroom. Footsteps land heavily on the floor until you’re bursting through into her room the instant your fingers grasp the handle.

Jinx is completely fine, albeit a little startled at your dramatic entrance, sitting up in bed where you’d left her. You almost collapse in relief. 

“You were gone for ages!” she complains with a huff, until her eyes land on your empty hands and her face screws up, whining, “Hey, where’s my hot choccy milk?”

You rush to her side, gently soothing back the sweaty hair from her forehead with your hand. 

“I’m sorry, pumpkin, I forgot,” you attempt to placate her. “I’ll make one for you in a little bit.”

Her annoyance fades and you just see the worry overtake her expression as she examines you, eerily similar to her father.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. 

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.”

She isn’t buying it. 

“Yeah there is,” Jinx scowls, even crossing her arms against her chest to show you she really means business. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

You sigh. What the hell are you meant to tell her? You don’t even know what’s going on.

“There’s just been… a little bit of an incident, but it’s nothing for you to worry about. We’re safe here,” you try to say reassuringly. 

“Where’s Dad?”

“He’s just trying to sort everything out,” you reply. “I’m sure he won’t be long.”

Gods, you hope that’s the case. 

Honestly, you feel awful lying to her, but you have no idea what’s happening yourself. So right now, you both need to stay as calm as possible.

You sit with her for however long, keeping both Jinx and yourself distracted with a game while you internally battle with yourself to stop the worry from overtaking you. 

It’s probably only a few minutes, but it feels like it’s been hours when the door finally opens and Sevika enters, automatically throwing a grimace towards Jinx.

Of course, Jinx isn’t Sevika’s greatest friend on the best of days, but now that she’s sick, it’s entirely worse. She throws the covers over her head and groans in retaliation.

“Boss wants to see you,” Sevika announces, looking directly at you, thankfully ignoring Jinx’s outburst. 

Hope flutters in your chest for a split second. If he wants to see you, that means he’s awake and more than likely talking.

But you can’t really ask the six million questions that are running through your brain with Jinx here listening. And you also can’t really leave her with Sevika, unless you want the entire room to be destroyed. 

“Can you fetch Ran for me?” you ask, begging the woman with your eyes whilst keeping your tone neutral. “I can’t leave Jinx on her own.”

Sevika sneers, clearly annoyed. 

Then, you watch as she considers Jinx (still hiding under the covers), and probably considers being the one to watch over her for the foreseeable. 

Without another word, she promptly turns on her heel and walks out the room.

The whole time you’re waiting for her return, Jinx pesters you to let her see her Dad, but you make her promise that she’ll stay in bed until he gives the okay. 

Luckily, Sevika is back within minutes, Ran in tow, who silently reclines in the furthest chair from her bed. You explain to Jinx that you’ll be back soon, and encourage her to tell Ran about all her new invention ideas.

And the very moment you’ve shut the door to her bedroom, Sevika pauses outside, presumably to update you on the situation.

But your anxiety immediately gets the better of you and you sprint down the hall like a madman, too nervous to even wait a few seconds.

Vaguely, you hear Sevika mutter, “Don’t know why I fucking bother,” as you speed away, but you’ll have to apologise to her later.

You need to see him now. 

When you arrive at Silco’s office, the guards move to the side in preparation, although they do manage to look the tiniest bit alarmed when you burst through the doors yelling, “I just really love paperwork!” and kick the door shut behind you.

Hopefully that’ll quench any suspicions they might have. 

Silco is clearly not in his office, so the next port of call is his bedroom, of which you slam the door open and tumble into the room, hanging onto the door knob for dear life when the motion threatens to send you sprawling across the floor.

From his bed where he’s laid out, Silco’s eyes widen in bewilderment, jolting back against the pillows his head is propped up on. 

Your fingers grip the door handle while your eyes fill with tears, gasping at the sight of him. 

It’s hard not to miss the stained bandage around his thigh, missing waistcoat, and filthy, rumpled clothes. And the fact that he’s much paler than usual. 

You feel sick. 

“Sil…”

“I’m fine, darling,” he attempts to mollify you, shifting about as he tries to sit up.

“No, no, don’t move,” you choke out.

You rush over to him, uncaring of the way your knees crack against the ground when you heavily drop beside his bed. 

“What-” you swallow the knot in your throat, shakily willing the tears away. “What happened?”

A hand reaches out to comfort him, but you hesitate, hovering above his arm.

The last thing you want to do is accidentally hurt him.

Silco grasps your hand with his, firmly intertwining your fingers together. But you beat him to it, bringing his hand to your mouth to gently kiss his knuckles.

“An individual attacked us on our way back to the club,” he explains, two-toned eyes focused on where your mouth rests on the skin of his hand. 

You look up at him, brow furrowed. 

“An individual? Did you see what they looked like?”

“No, they were masked and escaped before Sevika or I could apprehend them,” he replies, voice clearly tired and groggy.

You want to ask why the hell they were alone without any guards, but you know he’ll just get huffy about it. Something about being able to look after himself.

Your hand runs over your face as you sigh.

“Do you think it was one of the gangs?”

That’d be the most obvious set of culprits. 

“It could be, or it could be a lone fanatic who disagrees with my policies,” Silco replies. “We will conduct a thorough investigation and in the meantime security measures will be tripled, you and Jinx included.”

“What did the Doctor say?”

“The usual,” he says, avoiding eye contact as his gaze trails to your clasped hands once more. If there’s one thing that Silco hates, it’s talking about his own health and wellbeing. “The Shimmer injections should speed things along.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before cutting in with a question of his own. 

“How is Jinx?”

“She’s fine, worried about you,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in comfort.

Suddenly, your eyes meet his, filling with tears once more as your mind begins to spiral.

What if-

You cut off that train of thought immediately, letting go of his hand and leaning forward to lightly rest your forehead against his side.

“Oh, Sil,” you mumble shakily into the creased fabric of his shirt. 

“Come here, darling,” he says, gently pushing you to sit back up.

You look up to see him patting the space beside him, the side you usually sleep on.

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” you protest weakly. 

“You won’t,” he says with resolve.

You only hesitate for a moment longer before standing up and making your way around the bed, gingerly climbing onto your side.

Silco quickly reaches for you and pulls you over to him, laying your head against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You’re careful not to lean on him too heavily. 

And gods dammit, as you lie there cocooned in his arms, those tears slowly and silently leak out against your will, soaking into his burgundy shirt.

“I was so worried,” you begin, hoping he can’t detect the wobble in your voice. “I… I thought…”

“Shh, my love,” he hums into your hair. “I’m here now.”

You allow yourself to relax in his presence, beyond thankful that he’s here and he’s alive, even if he’s injured. 

You’ll take care of him every single day until he’s better. And even after that too. For as long as he wants you.

But as much as you want to stay in his arms right now, reassuring yourself with each inhale and exhale of breath that levers your head on his chest, you have to get up. 

“Where are you going?” Silco protests when his arms slip away from you.

“I need to check on Jinx,” you explain, reluctantly climbing off the bed with a sniff. “Plus, it might look a bit suspicious if I spend too long in here. Might start a few rumours.”

Silco frowns when you stand at the foot of the bed and straighten your clothes, scrubbing a hand over your face to wipe away the tears.

“Bring Jinx here, then you can stay as long as you like,” he says, almost with a pout.

You try not to smile at the way he sounds like a little boy trying to get out of bedtime

“She’s still in bed,” you explain. “Plus, she’ll get upset if she sees that you’re hurt. I’ll send Sevika back in to watch over you.”

Silco doesn’t look convinced, so you wander over to his side again.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back later,” you say, kissing his forehead tenderly. 

He catches your hand before you can leave, smirking a little. 

“Why can’t you tell everyone you’re my nurse?” he asks, that mischief still lurking despite the exhaustion. “Then you could spend the night here, no questions asked.”

You tug your hand out of his grasp, glaring down at him in faux annoyance. 

“If you weren’t already injured, I would actually smack you right now,” you threaten.

“Sounds lovely,” he grins, reaching for your hand until you dance out of his reach with a yelp.

You begin to walk towards the door. 

“Stay in bed, you menace. And don’t do anything I would do!” you call out over your shoulder as you leave, exiting the room before you do anything stupid (like offering to give him a sponge bath just because you want to take his shirt off). 

And as you go, you pray to Janna that this period of recovery with Silco’s injury is not going to be a trial. The last thing you need right now is any more stress. 

-

The period of recovery is a trial. 

But did you honestly expect anything less with Silco as your patient? 

Luckily, his leg begins to heal fairly quickly, no doubt thanks to the Shimmer injections. But it still takes a bit of time until he can get back to work as normal.

After checking up on Jinx, you find out from Sevika that the Doctor had actually ordered bed rest until he gives the okay. Which is a relief at first because it means that you can bully Silco into properly resting for once in his life.

Except, that means you have to take over the brunt of the meetings and paperwork. 

Between the worry about both Jinx and Silco’s recoveries, and having to carry most of the business, you think you’re losing your mind. 

You continue to take care of Jinx, as well as Silco, who are both the whiniest, most demanding two people you’ve ever met when they’re sick. 

Jinx hates that she can’t visit Silco in case she gives him an infection and bugs you constantly about going to see him. And Silco borderline whines every time you stop him from getting out of bed to ‘just smoke one cigar and fill in one shipping manifest at his desk’. 

Yeah, no. 

More often than not, you’re running between the two of them, perpetually washing your hands and making sure your mask is secure on your face. 

Sometimes you’ll briefly stop on the way to inhale a snack. Sometimes you’ll shove your face under the sink taps and get both a drink and a wash at the same time. Other times you try not to scream into the nearest pillow or cushion in fear of accidentally losing your voice. 

This time, you’ve just finished putting Jinx to bed (a battle far more ferocious than probably any battle in history, ever), and you’re now on your way to check on Silco, ready for his new evening routine. 

Check stitches. Clean wound. Re-bandage. Give medicine. Give food. Check he’s actually taken medicine. Give drink. Find a new book for him to read because he’s bored, darling. 

But instead of finding him laying in bed, plucking his comb like it’s a musical instrument, he’s standing up (barely) and clutching to the dresser.

You watch incredulously as he attempts to tug his trousers over his injured leg, sweating, pale, and clearly out of breath. 

“Are you serious right now?”

He looks up, lips pulling into the tiniest smile at the sight of you. 

“Hello, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, before going back to the task at hand. 

You think your head is going to explode. 

“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly.

The tray of his food and meds are placed on the bedside table, while Silco continues to wrestle with his trousers. Frankly, he looks ridiculous, pyjama top still on, trousers halfway up one leg as the other gets stuck on his ankle over and over again.

“I have a meeting,” he informs you, as if that’s an explanation. 

You look up to the ceiling like you’ll find a piece of your sanity on it. There’s definitely no meetings scheduled in the diary.

Dear gods, if he’s got a fever now and is hallucinating, you think you might just evaporate. 

“What meeting?”

Silco decides not to give you any details and instead just calmly states,

“It is very important. I must attend.”

Then, he carries on trying to get dressed like he wasn’t stabbed in the leg only a week earlier.

You can almost visualise the stress levels rising in your body; the jug about to overflow and spill out of you. 

What you should probably do right now is carefully help him back into bed and fetch Sevika so you can all decide on the best solution to this dilemma.

But you’re human, so you let your emotions get the better of you instead. 

“No.”

Silco has the gall to look surprised.

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, genuinely shocked at your directness. 

“I said no, now get back in bed,” you say, moving over to him to help him take off those stupid trousers and put his pyjamas back on.

He must not understand how serious you are right now because he continues to gently protest.

“Darling, I appreciate-”

“Silco,” you cut him off, tears filling your eyes as you arrive in front of him, looking him dead in the eye. Your voice is shockingly quiet and precise. “I need you to get back in bed or I think I am actually, seriously going to lose it.”

He looks startled, shuffling forward to comfort you. 

“Sweetheart-”

“Please, Silco,” you cut him off, your voice cracking with the words. 

Silco appraises you for a moment, watching your tense body and distraught face. 

Finally, he speaks. 

“Alright,” he concedes quietly, mismatched eyes full of concern. 

He manages to step out of his trousers and you help him hobble back over to the bed, pulling up the covers so he can get under the sheets.

And once he’s comfortably sat up against the headboard, he opens his mouth to speak again, eyes watching you carefully the whole time. 

You don’t let him. 

You lean forward, kiss his cheek, and then step away. 

“Please eat this,” you say, nodding to the tray on his bedside table. “I’m going to check on Jinx and then I will be back to change your bandage.”

Your footsteps out the room are measured and by the time he calls your name, asking you to wait, you’re already out the door. But you can’t stop walking because if you do, you’ll burst into tears…

Which is exactly what happens after you check on Jinx.

You’re just on your way back to Silco’s bedroom when one of the employees stops you in the corridor to say that a warehouse has been raided, meaning a bunch of stock has been stolen. 

You politely thank her for letting you know, ask her to inform Sevika, take a sharp turn into your bedroom, and break down sobbing.

Truthfully, you’re not sure how long you spend kneeling on the floor next to your bed, face down as you cry into the sheets.

But it must be long enough because the door opens and a set of limping footsteps shuffle towards you. 

He sits down on the bed and gently - soothingly - runs his fingers through your hair. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath between each word, but you somehow manage to heave out, “You… should… be… in… bed,” sobbing the last word until it’s completely unintelligible. 

“I know, my love, I know,” Silco consoles you.

He delicately encourages you to get up and get into bed, following you under the covers despite there barely being enough room for the both of you. 

Once he’s reassured you that you’re not hurting his leg, you let him hold you in his arms, rubbing your back until you stop crying. 

You have a killer headache. And a big part of you feels bad for letting him comfort you when it should be the other way round. 

“Do you know why I gave you this bedroom when I first asked you to work and live here?” he eventually mumbles into your hair. 

You sniffle. “No, why?”

“It’s the only one with a single bed.”

Slowly, you pull back to look at him in disbelief. 

“What?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t invite anyone over,” he explains nonchalantly, like any sane person would invite you to live with them and give you the tiniest bed ever, just because he was jealous of even the thought of you having a partner. 

You huff a laugh and his lips quirk into a smile in response. 

“There was never anyone to invite over,” you say. “Plus, it doesn’t really make sense to invite someone over when they already live with you.”

Silco watches you affectionately. He cups your cheeks and leans forward to capture your lips in the slowest, most tender kiss. 

Your eyes flutter closed and you whisper against him, “You’re injured.” 

“My lips are perfectly fine,” he mumbles back. 

You gently whack him on the arm. 

“Silly boy.”

He smirks (the one that still gives you butterflies) and steals another kiss before cuddling up to you again. 

“Thank you for looking after everything for me,” he says over your shoulder. “In truth, I am not quite sure what I would do without you.”

“I don’t know how you do it all, I feel like one of those stretchy dolls being pulled in every direction until they snap,” you snort, scrubbing a hand over your face. 

“You’re doing wonderfully, my sweetheart. I am continually astounded by your unwavering strength and compassion,” Silco tells you. 

Then, he blows an amused breath of air out of his nose, like he can’t quite believe whatever he’s thinking. “It’s no wonder I-”

He pauses, whole body suddenly tense in your arms. 

You wait patiently for him to continue, squeezing him a little bit tighter in reassurance. 

“Hmm?”

Silco eventually lets out a shaky exhale, simultaneously relaxing into your touch, almost like he’s melting into your warmth. 

“I know that you will be just fine. We will be just fine,” he says.

You hum again, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep with each looping circle traced on your skin. 

Deep down, you know you’ll have to go fetch him some water and his first aid supplies when you wake. You’ll sit in your armchair beside your own bed until he wakes up from some much needed rest. 

But he’s worth it. He’s worth the crick in your neck, and the reduced hours of sleep, and the overwhelming stress.

He’s worth it all. 

Because you love him. 

-

a/n: did anyone else play the folded paper drawing game or was it just me?? 

edit: i just googled it and the game is called Exquisite Corpse 😭

edit edit: so i’m currently trying to plot out the rest of this story so there’ll hopefully be fewer breaks between chapters (it was only meant to be a one-shot lmao), wish me luck my lieges 🙏 if you’re still reading this daft story after all this time, ily. if you’re new, welcome ily