#but here i think everyone should have their own slightly fucked up version of her name

[parasolyaa]

Hey! I was wondering, based on the fact Talia name wise with spelling and shortening is an even bigger mess than Mischa/Misha what you'd recommend for someone who wants to write their fics to try and best represent the correct spellings? What do you personally recommend for this when it's so wrong to start with?

that's a really good question!! and to be completely honest, i have a more laid back approach to talia's name: it's so wrong to the point where i can't even blame russifiaction, because that's not it, her name is just very funny. "talia" doesn't invoke any rage in me, i think it's absolutely OK to spell it that way, while my eye does start to twich whenever i see "mischa". the name natalia itself isn't wrong at all, there also are variants natalya and natalka that are wonderful (but i will shriek if i see natasha)

the shortened form? i sometimes spell it as talya (таля instead of талія), which makes for a softer sound, and is absolutely a plausible form of her name. and it doesn't mean waist! hurray!

the middle name though... i'm not even sure what it's supposed to be and how it's spelled canonically (muruska? murushka? there was a production in which they said it as BABUSHKA), so my go to for this is spelling it as murashka. just my headcanon, not an agenda i'm looking to push onto everyone, but i think it sounds cool: it means little ant, so it can work as a nickname or a double surname.

that makes her Talya Murashka-Bolinska!

very old post with thoughts on talia's name

on misha's name and russification

[stevesgother]

The 4th - S.H

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WC: 2.2k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI NSFW, cursing, drinking, characters are all of age, takes place after the events of ST3, slight exhibitionism only bc they’re technically outside, it’s that slightly awkward but endearing sex you have when you fuck someone you like for the first time. It's realistic. Sue me.

AN: first time writing smut, i'm so nervous. fast times au?? If you squint?? the last half isn't proofread bc i simply cannot bring myself to read my own smut

‘American Woman’ by The Guess Who blares loudly from a twin pair of Hitachi speakers stationed on Steve Harrington’s back deck. On the hottest day of the year, The Party had decided to congregate at the only non-public pool they had unlimited access to.

To his relief, Steve had been assigned to grill duty again. The cherry red bikini you had sauntered through his sliding glass door wearing was starting to seriously inconvenience him. He had his Ray Bans on, albeit low on the bridge of his nose, to disguise where his gaze had been lingering all afternoon; the large propane grill hiding his lower half.

Lounging poolside on your towel, you hear before you feel a large ‘SPLASH’, and suddenly you’re soaked head to toe in overly chlorinated pool water.

“Ugh! Henderson!” you scold as you stand to replace your now drenched towel. The cheeky boy looks up at you from where he floats in the pool and mouths a half-hearted ‘Sorry’. 

“Steve! Would you happen to have an extra towel?” you shout to him as you hold up your ruined one, shooting him a deadpan expression. “Yeah, ‘course,” he sets down the grill tongs and awkwardly shuffles his way inside, keeping his back to you. Weird, you think.

Steve caught one look at you, hair wet and dripping, water beading down your neck and disappearing among the curve of your breasts; nipples taught from the sudden shock of cold water and visible through the fabric of your swimsuit, and he was grateful for the reprieve inside would offer him.

After close to 15 minutes of no Steve and more importantly, no towel, you decide to venture into the spacious house yourself. “Steve! – Oh!-” you startle as you run chest to chest into him, both turning a corner. “You scared me,” you say with a hand to your racing heart, “I was just wondering where you went,” you chuckle awkwardly.

“Yeah no, sorry, I just uh- got distracted,” he says, avoiding contact and handing you the fresh linen. You glance down, and notice the slight tent in his maybe too-tight swim trunks. You feel the heat of a rosy blush crawl up your cheeks, and a sudden flip of your stomach. Were you really the reason why he was acting so strange? That felt incredibly presumptuous of you.

“Well um…” you trail off, trying to keep your cool, “thanks. For the towel, I mean.” Steve had never made you feel so bashful and uncertain before. Something about the newly exposed skin and the salty smell of sweat mixed musk that radiates off of him from this proximity making your mind short circuit.

 –

When the cookout had dwindled down to just the adults and the sun dipped just below the trees, a joint had started to be passed around your small circle. “Well, we should probably head home,” Nancy announces in her usual demure tone, grabbing Jonathan’s hand helping him to stand. A chorus of goodbyes echo throughout the group, eventually leaving just you, Steve, Robin and Eddie.

An exaggerated yawn escapes Robin as she declares she’s exhausted and needs Eddie to drive her home in his rinky dink van.

“C’mon man! I just rolled this joi-”

Robin cuts him off with a harsh clear of her throat and an even harsher jab to his ribs.

“I. Really think. We. Should. Go.” She punctuates each word with a forced smile. Why was everyone acting so fucking odd today? You try to send her a panicked glance, fearing the potential awkwardness of being left here alone with Steve.

Being best friends with both of you, she was well aware of the searing crushes the two of you had on each other. This barbeque was her opportunity to light a fire under your asses to do something about it.

“That’s okay, Rob. Go home if you’re tired.” Always the gentleman. Right now you could kick him for it. If Robin notices your glaring, she doesn’t acknowledge it as she rises to her feet and heads toward the gate leading to the driveway.

“Bye losers!” She waggles her fingers at you as they make their exit, sending you a subtle wink that sets your cheeks ablaze. You now know without a doubt that this was intentional.

A hand on your knee as he says, “I can walk you home if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. We can finish the joint at least,” you smile timidly at him. Free weed wasn’t easy to come by these days, what was the harm in staying just a little longer?

–

2 hours later, you’re lying shoulder to shoulder on the rough concrete surrounding the Harrington’s pool. The joint had been snuffed out on the ground between you an hour ago, but with your thoughts dulled like this it was becoming increasingly easy to bask in the space you two had created for each other. The desire to turn heel and run with your other friends had long fizzled out.

“Hey, what was up with you today?” you ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “You just seemed really off,”

He looks suddenly nervous, “Oh I uh– I don’t know. Julys’ always a weird month for me, I guess,” he lies, carding a hand through his hair.

Taking the hand that’s not in his hair in your own, you ask, “Are you doing okay?” When he turns his head to meet you, your sincerity makes him blush - neck to ears. Your faces are closer than he thought they would be. He can count every eyelash from this proximity.

“Yeah– you know what,” He clears his throat, “I’m actually really warm,” he sits up clumsily as he pulls his shirt over his head by the collar, ruffling his hair and exposing the constellation of freckles and moles he has spattering the skin on his toned back.

“Okay–” You go to stand with him but he’s already dove into the pool. When he breaches the surface, he shakes his hair out like a dog and grins at you. You can’t help your eyes wandering to the dark patch of hair covering his chest. You’re starting to feel that warmth he had been complaining of.

“You gonna come in? Or just stand there and gawk?” He laughs as he floats over to you.

So you peel your shirt off and watch him stare intently as you unbutton your shorts, letting them drop to your feet. A less than elegant swan dive and you’re disappearing under the artificially blue water. The sudden coolness of it shocks you, sobering you up a bit.

You’re much more graceful than the boy when it’s your turn to come up for air, gently pushing back the hair that sticks to your face. He swims over to you unsuspectingly, then in the next breath and with a mischievous grin he lifts your body over his shoulder and essentially bodyslams you back under the surface.

More than the gesture itself, what shocks you the most is the warm expanse of his broad shoulders caressing you. You both emerge laughing, “Asshole!” you swat at his chest playfully.

When the laughter dies and fizzles out into an anxious energy, the air is filled with a sort of anticipation. The two of you are bobbing in the pool, faces no more than an inch apart.

“You have got to stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, breathlessly.

Just then he surges forward and presses his lips firmly to yours. The kiss is close-mouthed and chaste at first, giving you a chance to pull away. When you don’t take the opportunity, he deepens it. Your wet hands move to hold his face, breaching the water with a small splashing sound and his strong arms hug you at the waist, bringing you impossible closer. Pressed up against him like this you can feel all of him. The scratch of curls on his chest, the bulge of his biceps around your middle, the hard length of him pressed against your thigh.

Gasping into the kiss, you give him the opening he needs to lick hotly into your mouth, eliciting a breathy moan from your chest that sends Steve reeling. He starts to slowly kick his legs, swimming to push your back up against a vinyl clad wall.

Your lips move to lick the vein that runs down his neck, then up to a spot just below his ear. He groans when you take his earlobe gently into your mouth. Grasping your cheek in his hand, he forces your face out of the refuge his neck had provided from his intense gaze.

“Can I touch you?” He shudders when he speaks, having dreamt about this exact moment for years. Your response is an enthusiastic nod and another searing kiss to his lips - plush and pink and made for your own.

Steve’s knee moves to rest bookended between your thighs, keeping you open for him. In the water, he can’t feel how pathetically wet you are beneath your bright red bikini bottoms. You’re thankful for that, but even so, the whine that you release when his swift fingers push aside the fabric and start slowly massaging your clit is enough to give you away.

Your grip on his shoulders tightens, leaving small crescent shapes in his perfect skin. “Oh!-- God, keep doing that,” you pant.

“You like that, baby?” Steve tries to sound suave. Mr. Confident. King Steve. Honestly, he’s terrified. He has half a mind to stop and ask you to pinch him, not entirely convinced this is even real. But the sweet, sweet sounds you’re making are enough to persuade him otherwise.

“Yes! Ah– please, don’t stop,” you beg, even though you don’t have to. Steve’s positive he would do just about anything you asked of him right now. You have the sudden urge to return the favor, reaching down between your two bodies and palming him through his swim trunks.

“Oh -- my God, don’t,” he warns, the sheepish smile on his face signals to you that he’s not actually uncomfortable, “I’ll come in my pants like a damn teenager,” he gives an embarrassed chuckle.

Growing desperate for more, you say, “I want you to fuck me.” with an impossible finality. It makes Steve’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Wh-what?” He needs to make sure he heard you correctly.

“Steve. I need you to fuck me. Now.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you begin to press open-mouth kisses to his neck again.

“Oh my God,” The boy sounds absolutely wrecked already, barely able to contain himself. His hands fumble blindly for the ties on your bikini bottoms and he pulls when he finds them. Unwrapping you like his very own Christmas present.

You pull his trunks down and over his hips, just enough to fish his red and swollen cock out, careful to not let them fall to the bottom of the pool lest someone have to dive and retrieve them. You line him up hurriedly with your entrance, but he stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Are you sure about this?” His brows furrow in that way they always do, when he's unsure. He has a crinkle above his nose.

“Yes” you half moan before getting a look at his face, “Wait, are you?”

“Yes! Yes– of course. I just– want you to be sure,” He kisses you softly after he asks

It’s so tender, you feel so safe with him like this. You fear you might be falling in love.

“I promise, I’m su–Oh!” he slides into you without warning, nearly knocking the breath out of you. He lets out a guttural groan into the space where your shoulder meets your neck as he starts to keep a steady rhythm.

“God, you feel so good,” he pants into your open mouth, “i’ve wanted this for so long,”

His words have you keening. He wraps his broad arms fully around you now, hugging you close as he pistons his hips into you. Repeatedly hitting that spot inside your walls where you need him the most.

“Oh, Steve!” you moan loudly, no longer concerned about the neighbors hearing you. The pool water begins to form waves from Steve’s thrusting and splash up onto the concrete beside your head.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” you can feel his hips stuttering slightly.

“Steve!” He whines directly into your ear when you say it, you never would’ve thought he’d be so vocal.

“Touch yourself baby, I’m close,”

You do as you’re asked and start to keep a frenzied pace on your sensitive bud. Having both kinds of stimulation, mixed with Steve’s sweet praise, is sending you closer and closer to your edge.

As you reach your high, Steve can feel your warm pussy clench around him, making him hurtle towards his orgasm with you.

With a strangled cry, “fuck- I'm cumming,” You finish together as hips slow and he rides out his orgasm with you. His body curls in on itself and he trembles slightly. You run a warm, soft hand through his hair and down his back, soothing him through the intensity of it.

“Shit- my parents are going to kill me,” he laughs and kisses you again.

Maybe you did like swimming. Just a little bit.

tags: @daisy-munson, @megxplryxb

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter two: This is not a good day to be a god.

Warnings: Spoilers for Aventurine’s backstory, some canon divergent stuff as I’m taking creative liberties. Reader is kind of biased but also not. People aren’t really having a good time. Good ol Eldritch horror. This chapter is a bit more serious in tone than the last ones.

“Mr. Yang, can we please switch the channel?”

Welt, being the nearest person near the techy T.V you absolutely had no fucking idea how to operate yet had obliged to your request, because you see, the news channel had no problem broadcasting your latest breakdown for everyone to hear.

You could have sworn you saw Pompom almost cry from the sound of your eldritch version and honestly you wouldn’t blame them— if you were them, you were sure you’d cry at the sound of your own voice too because what the fuck was that—

Why you even cried? Well, you accidentally freed a planet.

From existing. By simply accidentally dropping your tears on it because you cried watching a planet from thousands of light years away that you’re pretty sure is Sigonia come to conflict.

How you accidentally did more damage than Nanook and haven’t ended up being assimilated to them is beyond you, but you remembered you still have some agendas, you can’t be eaten yet.

It wasn’t exactly your fault your true form was a little too big that rogue planets who had the unlucky chance to get too near you ended up being quite literally disassembled. You just hoped there were no sentient life forms in it.

Continuing on with breakfast, Himeko drank her weird smelling coffee near you, unperturbed and probably used to hearing the news airing out your dirty laundry. (She’s still a little shaken from hearing the crying, but knowing you personally has made it seem.. less terrifying.)

You munched on your toast, thanking Pompom for making it the way you liked it; being slightly on the burnt side.

Welt had switched the channel to a different network, this time, there’s sports. Everyone seemed content on seeing sweaty men on a soccer field instead of hearing your not so pleasant and probably horrifying sounding distress so it was a win.

Then you randomly remembered Sigonia.

“Hey uh.. Himeko? Do we have data on this specific star cluster here?” You asked as you scribbled on a piece of paper, hoping at least that Akivili had made it there at least once.

Himeko peered through the paper and frowned. “….” She seemed hesitant, which confirmed your suspicion. “We don’t… the rail hasn’t gone that way just yet.”

Well shit. It seemed like you couldn’t take the express with you without you heading there and establishing a space anchor first.

But that would take time. Too much time. And you realized that logically there would be little to no benefit of a space anchor in a harsh desert planet— you cut those thoughts as soon as they came, you weren’t going to think like the IPC.

It’s up to you to establish a connection then. But could you even make it in time?

————————————

Your projection had disappeared after breakfast, leaving the express once again to wander as they pleased as you returned to your original body to peer into Sigonia— specifically Sigonia IV once again.

It’s surprisingly lively for a desolate place. It made sense, people do live there, and it made you smile at the resilience they presented despite their circumstances.

You should bless them, you thought, maybe placing it under the guise of their mother goddess if you’re remembering their belief system correctly. She.. unfortunately does not exist, but you do.

You won’t let them know that though for the sake of their peace.

You just wish the two clans would free themselves from hatred; logically it would be more beneficial to work together in a place like that, and it made you feel bad for the Katicans in a way— to be caged by their own prejudice they can’t see beyond words or envy that they’d choose to simply wipe out another clan out of those feelings. It was just sad, a little pathetic almost.

You didn’t want to be biased, but you do know you have sides to take if you wanted to be free of something. In this situation, you don’t think there was an option to simply have the two of them be on equal terms— not for now at least. Maybe you should consult Xipe? But where even are they?

For the sake of quieting your strangely human conscience, you chose to bless the Avgins in their little festival, in the hope that you’d steer them away from their written fate.

You know it’d be hard to fight, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try.

It had taken you to seeing little Kakavasha for a good while for you to finally crack and get down there yourself.

There was no way you were going to let him suffer a life that you knew was going to happen to him, not if you could do something about it. And lucky for you, you were an Aeon, and you were an Aeon that did whatever they damn wanted.

You had said fuck you to fate that day and took the form of an Avgin woman, not before leaving a message to Boothill that you hope he’d receive considering you’re not delivering it through your phone number— you were delivering your message through sheer will.

————————

Assimilating with the Avgin had come rather easily. It had made you feel bad to deceive them— you had pretended to be injured, no, it was more like you intentionally let your projection appear injured, as you approached their camp.

You had called yourself “Delia”, and they were keen on accepting that. They had taken care of you and kids cooed over the patterns of the skirt that you wore, asking you how you had created it.

Your only saving grace had been a young girl who appeared almost the same physical age as you, shooing away the people who crowded you too much. (Not that there was even many of them, there were three at most, and they were children.)

You had only awkwardly laughed as she shot them a look, something about how the “patient” needed to be left alone.

“Sorry about them, they can be excitable when they see something pretty.” She said to you, squeezing a wet rag before she wiped your face with it. It’s embarrassing to be taken care of like you were a baby, but if it’s what it took to try and free them, then you’re willing to sacrifice your dignity a little more— if you were being honest, you’d take this over hearing the sound of your own crying on the television.

“It’s fine.” You smiled as she put the rag down and checked your “injured” leg.

“A few more days and you’d be good to go. Though…. You’re healing faster than people normally would…..” You could sense the suspicion in her tone, and inwardly you smiled mischievously. “Never mind, I suppose that’s a good thing. The sooner you heal, the sooner you’re out of the bed and can go around and move about.” She nodded to herself in her assessment of you and left the tent.

It was days later that you found that she’s funnily enough, Kakavasha’s sister.

By that time, you were known by the people around you, but you didn’t know them.

Kakavasha had been one of those who knew you in courtesy of his older sister; and now he’s here, shyly peeking over the table as you scribbled away into a sheet of paper.

He’s curious as he peered over your work. “It’s the stars you see on the left side of that mountain.” You told him, hesitantly he brings his pointer finger and holds it over the tear drop shapes.

“What’s this?”

“It’s rain.” You explained, and the little boy that you once knew to be the gambler tilted his head.

“Why is there so many of them?” Ah right, this place didn’t rain much.

“The sky is crying.” You told him and he simply frowned.

“Sister said you have a lot of stories.” He decided to change the topic, probably sensing your awkwardness. How embarrassing for a little kid to know you’re not good at speaking, but you know you’ll eventually learn how to better yourself in doing so.

“Yes I do, wanna hear one of them?” Your smile returned, and little Kakavasha, with his one missing front tooth, reflected your expression.

“I’m taking that as a yes. I’ll tell you the story of a girl who lost everything to the rain…”

————————

Two Sigonian months (you’ve counted the hours, and put them into months to prevent yourself from going insane from saying the numbers) and you’re pretty sure you’ve ran out of tales you’ve parodied from the original you told him and the other children. Kakavasha had brought it upon himself to stick by your side funnily enough, saying something about not caring if you repeat the tales to him again.

His mother had brought you to the side some time ago, thanking you for the diversion you gave to the children from the reality they were in.

You were combing a sleeping Kakavasha’s hair when you had heard it. The dreaded call for aid for the next Kakava festival.

And there was no time for the space anchor you were just starting to make.

Your hands paused, and you gently set the child’s head off your lap and into a pillow before disappearing into the night.

You returned 6 system hours later. Then another 18 system hours went by before you disappeared again and reappeared exactly after six hours. That continued on for days as the festival grew nearer.

——————————

Unbeknownst to you, this was utterly terrifying for the galaxy rangers aside from Boothill to receive messages from a nonexistent number. It had come in the form of a cipher, then actual comprehensive texts, then another cipher again and all of them would increase in frequency— as if the one who was calling for help was making it a point that it was urgent.

All of it had led to the answer of Sigonia IV despite the other strange contents of those messages.

Sometimes it wasn’t even texts at all, sometimes it was calls in the same six system hour time span that they’d receive those messages. They’d receive the call, and they would receive static sounds that formed words— gibberish half the time, but still beckoning them to Sigonia IV.

Some of them had put their phone down sometimes as the calls manifested into sounds that made them shudder all the way to their bones. They couldn’t describe the noise, but it put some sort of primal reaction out of them enough that some of them went 72 system hours without sleep.

As irrational and ridiculous as it sounded, there were very little things that galaxy rangers feared.

Whatever was sending them these things were one of them.

Sometimes it would be their TV, and Boothill had the unfortunate fate of listening to the strange cacophony that if he had been a human he was sure it would have terrified him enough he’d piss himself. There was something wrong about the waves it emitted, it wasn’t a normal glitch or a hack sort of glitch, but rather something else.

SOS, Sigonia IV, SOS, Sigonia IV. The message were a repeat.

In the calls he received, he would have thought he was having a fever dream when he found they didn’t exist in his call logs until his fellow rangers confirmed they received the same message.

He remembered receiving the text once before all this— a strange occurrence, but not exactly a coincidence.

They received the same messages again for this night. Except the ending sequence changed.

Bring people. Avgin. IPC not help. SOS. Sigonia IV. Send HELP.

After the last sequence had indicated the date, the TV short circuited and the lights dimmed.

“Oh fudge me.” Boothill muttered, whoever or whatever was even sending these things were clearly going agitated. “Looks like we’re going to be on a roll boys, I don’t think it’s wise to priss off this cutie pie so best we don’t ignore that signal for any fudging longer than we already had.”

“Say less, and I hope to the aeons I get a good nights sleep when we’re done.”

—————————————

Part I, Part II, Part III [HERE], Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII….

And that’s a wrap for part two! I know it lacks jokes but come on. But yeah we’re going on the more serious territory for a bit before we go back for the jokes. Heavily unedited and written in the middle of the night.

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter six — everyone f**king stinks! 💋

The entire area felt foreign to you.

It was like walking into the backrooms, but if the backrooms were filled with stans and nerdy enthusiasts of the backrooms. Your stomach was rumbling with pure anxiety, and for a split second, there was mirth dancing in your eyes.

Once you stopped, you were in clear view of a big banner that had all of Inazuma's members on it. It was a promotional emblem for how long they'll be here and their times they'll be available to see people.

You shouldn't have felt jealous, but you did, and you pried your eyes away from the showcase, looking back at her three friends who accompanied you first.

"Where's Aether and Tohma anyway? Are they still at the hotel?"

"Uh, something happened I guess? They said they would catch up with us eventually." Lumine said, but before she could fully confirm, she saw the aforementioned inside and pointed.

You bated your breath for a second, twiddling with your phone in your hand like a fidget spinner. “Should I really..?”

“Go for it! What’s the worst that can happen?” Ayaka said in an encouraging whisper.

“At this point? I don’t even think I’d like to know.” The line slowly moved up, and with more of a hushed resolve, you tapped on the LIVE button on the app and held the camera up with a bright smile on your face. “HI CHAT!”

Instantly, everyone in practically a mile radius looked back at you. Either with confusion or sheer disgust and apprehension. Most of them were talking amongst themselves about you ‘actually showing up’.

But Hu Tao hopped on board as the line was moving, cheerfully waving. They were inside of the convention in no time, all four of the group with coffees in their hands, lanyards clearly showcasing that they were streamers, the whole she-bang.

You quickly ran to an empty corner of the convention, quietly whispering to your audience. “Guys, I never knew that the rumors were true, but…everyone seriously fucking stinks in here!”

“No seriously. Holy shit, people. Wear deodorant or a hazmat suit, whatever. Please.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad!”

“AYAKA. This is the in real life version of the green fumes you see in the cartoons, please be so for real right now.” Hu Tao replied.

A flood of hate was in your chat, mostly people telling you to end the stream if you were going to talk shit and to keep yourself safe. You paid no mind as you showcased everything with your friends, including the different stands. But as you went further along, and the more people who were fans of Inazuma started to notice you were here, the more hostile a lot of people seemed toward you? You weaved through crowds silently, and it still felt like people knew that it was you.

You didn’t even see a point in streaming, up until you accidentally shoved your coffee into somebody’s back. You feel with a forceful thrust to yourself, hardly doing any damage to the person in front of you other than moving them slightly and getting drips and talons of coffee all over their black clothes. You were splashed in the face with your own hot coffee as well, brown liquid all around you as it sunk into your lower back and the fabric around you.

Your phone skidded across the floor, but in view of the ceiling and still actively on live. Hu Tao’s breath was knocked out of her lungs, and it looked like her soul tap danced out of her body. “Oh…Y/N—!!”

Frustrated, you took your phone, and noticed that it now had a big crack before feeling your heart drop to your stomach. You still had a financing plan on this bad boy! You were so pissed that the scorching coffee on your skin had nothing to your blood boiling.

“You really need to watch where you’re going!” You barked. “You can’t just be in the way of the stands if you’re not looking, there’s a reason why the yellow tape is literally everywhere! Hey!”

There was a long silence, and a second of despair from Hu Tao as she quickly shook her head at you in view. She seemed to be mouthing at you something, but you didn’t seem to capture what she was talking about until the person turned around. Ayaka simply didn’t know what to do except look worried, and Lumine was entirely frozen.

“I want to know…who the fuck you’re talking to like that. Huh?” The #1 streamer himself, Scaramouche said as he approached your figure on the floor. He was hovering over you like a sleep paralysis demon. “Because it’s not me. Look up at me while I’m speaking to you. You were trying to get my attention a few seconds ago, what’s wrong?”

“Oh my god,” Lumine murmured. “Guys…we need to get them.”

“Lumine…” Hu Tao looked at her with pleading eyes. “I’m deadass about this. We are next if we go over there.”

As you realized that you did this in the exact proximity of Inazuma’s huge booth, you were hoping whatever God put you into cardiac arrest in that moment.

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo @justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @melpomenelurks @keiiqq @mine-lu @featuredtofu @danhenglovebot @k4zushi @kyon-cherri @1lellykins @iiinaurate @quacking-simp (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 10

Here's another WIP Wednesday! Hope you enjoy.

Story Summary: Danny was invited to dinner at Wayne Manor to meet Jazz's boyfriend and his family for the first time. He worked hard to make sure no ghost business would interrupt the evening. But when he arrived, all he could focus on was the ghost of the dead Robin that seemed to haunt Jason. Looks like he was breaking his promise.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

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Alfred let out a put-upon sigh. “You, and you alone”—he gave a look to everyone at the table—“may ask Mr. Danny a single question. All other questions must wait until Mr. Danny has finished his dessert and informs you he is willing to answer more of them.”

“What the fuck does Jazz mean when she says ‘spoilers’?”

Danny sighed and leaned his chair back as he looked up to the ceiling. “Yeah, okay. That’s fair. You deserve an answer to that, dead boyfriend number two.”

“Stop calling me that!”

“I’m finally not the only dead one in the family. Sorry, but I’m gonna revel in that a bit longer.” Danny grinned at him and set his chair back on the ground. “So, spoilers. Well. My grandpa is kinda the Ghost of Time. Responsible for maintaining the time stream to bring about the future that has the best outcome for the most amount of beings. We met a few years back when he was ordered to kill me but became my mentor instead. Since he’s the ghost of time, he sees all futures and doesn’t really exist in the present. Sometimes he refers to things that haven’t happened yet as if they have or brings up events from centuries or millenia ago as if they happened yesterday. Bit headache inducing if I’m honest, but I’ve gotten used to it. Jazz doesn’t like it when I share details about what Gramps has let slip about her future.”

“No I do not. I’d rather live my life as if I have some degree of free will!”

The silence from the Waynes was only disrupted by the increased typing from Tim and Barbara.

“You know what,” said Jason after a beat, “I don’t even know why I’m surprised. Jazz, your brother’s life is insane and I say that as a zombie from a family of vigilantes.”

Danny shook his head and swallowed a bite of ice cream. “You aren’t a zombie. Zombies don’t retain any memories of their lives and they can’t think. Not sure what you are, to be honest. You’re ghostly in some way as evidenced by Robin and his ability to use and eat ectoplasm. Which you also recognized, if by a different name. Though, I will reiterate, ectoplasm shouldn’t bubble or collect in pits in the living realms.”

Jason stared at him for a moment before stabbing his spoon into his own pie. He muttered something under his breath and projected, restraint, hold it in.

Danny sighed. He really shouldn’t drag this out any longer. His remaining desert was gone in a few bites.

“Fine. I’m done. How do we want to do this?”

Jazz cleared her throat, “If I may, I have a suggestion.”

Bruce nodded and gestured for her to continue.

“Look, if we take the time to answer every single question about the Infinite Realms and ghost culture, history, biology, and psychology, we will be here for years. Now, Danny’s partner Tucker is our tech guy. We can have him send over a document tomorrow with much of the information we think would be necessary for you to have. You can review it on your own time line and verify it with Justice League Dark or whomever. And you can formulate a list of questions you need further clarification on. Sound fair?”

Jazz was the best. Danny sent her a wave of love you, thanks, you’re amazing and she squeezed his knee under the table.

Bruce hummed. “And what do you wish to talk of tonight?”

Jazz leaned back slightly and looked at Danny. “Danny? I think this is all you.”

Danny nodded. To the table he said, “Over half of you are in danger from the Guys in White. I suppose I should start with showing you how.” The ecto-trackers he had pulled out earlier still sat ignored on the table. He grabbed his own version and took a position kneeling between Bruce and Barbara. Tim got up to stand behind him. Everyone else also got to their feet and started moving closer.

Danny clicked his tongue. “The screen is too small for all of you to see. Jason, stay seated over there. It’ll be easier to show what’s going on with you if you and Robin aren’t right next to each other. Damian and Cass, you are the next most affected so come over. Everyone else, I’ll show you the exact same things just after.”

Cass gave him a single nod and slid out of her seat. Damian didn’t say anything, but pushed his chair out and stalked over. He stood as far from Tim as he could while still being able to look over Danny’s head at the small screen. Cass took her place between the two.

Whatever, their family drama was not his problem. He turned on the machine. “So this device tracks ectoplasm. My design is the most sophisticated on Earth. Green is free ectoplasm—ectoplasm that isn’t part of a ghost or sentient being. Purple indicates a liminal human. Blue is an unknown ghost. Red is a known, unfriendly ghost. Yellow is a known, friendly ghost. Orange is a halfa like me. The intensity of the color indicates the strength of the being.”

“What is a liminal human?” asked Bruce. “You’ve mentioned them before.”

“I didn’t go over that?” asked Danny as colored shapes began to appear on the screen. A bright orange blob appeared in the middle, himself. He was surrounded by three purple blobs, Cass and Damian were the brightest, Steph the dimmest at the other end of the table. But what really drew his eye was Robin. He was mostly blue, but a wave of blue-organge-purple connected him to Jason who was mostly purple. Both of their main beings had some of all three colors mixed in. Danny had never seen anything like it.

But he couldn’t focus on the strange display right now. Saving the image, he decided to ask Jason later if he could show Frostbite and Tucker to get their insight. “Liminals are humans who have been exposed to ectoplasm in some way. Either through death or long-term, low-level exposure. Overtime, it makes you death-touched and that changes a person. Everyone is different. Jazz has a degree of super strength, a ghostly obsession, and true empathy. Tucker has some technopathy; Sam a green thumb like you wouldn’t believe.” Though, this was Gotham, home to Poison Ivy. “Or, well, maybe you would, living in Gotham.” Danny pointed to the purple blob that represented Bruce. “This indicates you have quite a high level of liminality. Jazz”—he pointed to where she was, her color clearly brighter than any of the Waynes—“is currently the third most liminal person I know of on Earth.” He then pointed to Stephanie, a much dimmer purple haze. “And Steph is only lightly touched.”

Bruce hummed. “So this Ghost Investigation Ward will use a device like this to track any of us who have any sort of ectoplasm in us.”

“Yeah. Only theirs isn’t nearly as good.” Danny looked to his sister. “Jazz, mind passing the GIW device down?”

“Of course.” The GIW ectoplasmic radiation sensor had their signature sleek, white design. It was passed down the line from Jazz until Bruce was able to hand it to Danny.

“Thanks.” Danny took it and turned it on. “So the GIW design looks good, but can’t differentiate between different types of ectoplasm. As of now, they aren’t even aware of liminals.”

This device, when it turned on, showed a black screen with a white bar that went up and down at a steady pace. A loading bar was visible on the bottom labeled “Scanning.”

“As you can see, theirs takes a lot longer to get readings.” It finished loading. “Here we go.” Danny was a large green shape labeled “Phantom.”

Robin was also a green shape, though he was distorted with a tail leading towards Jason. He had no label. The others, excluding Stephanie who wasn’t displayed at all, showed up as a green haze.

“Thanks to my parents, they have good readings on me which is why my name shows up. They aren’t usually too focused on identifying ghosts, though, which is why Jason-Robin doesn’t have a label. I’m a special case. The rest of you are safe from a distance, but that haze means they’d take you in for questioning at the very least.”

“Hn. What is the range on these devices?” asked Bruce.

Danny shrugged. “My stuff? From anywhere. I track through the Infinite Realms, not by Earth. GIW? Jason-Robin, they’ll be able to detect something from probably ten miles out of city limits, but they’d need to be within half a mile to get an accurate location. The Fentons? Mile or so. They get an exact location or nothing.”

----------

Next

I don't really think I have much to say about this segment. The info dump has started! Thank you Jazz for keeping people on track. Alfred will help her if he feels people start pushing too much.

Tag List Part 1

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[vaguely-concerned]

Thoughts upon finishing Master and Apprentice! A good double read with Padawan; the ending of that leaving Obi-Wan slightly hopeful about his relationship to Qui-Gon makes for a very sad yet hilarious ‘Local Padawan loses last little bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of vibe to the beginning of this one, which is set one (1) year later and Obi-Wan is So Done with Qui-Gon’s whole deal by this point (correctly btw). Also if you can’t tell already I will not be objective or free from bias in this because I love Obi-Wan so much and some of the stuff Qui-Gon pulled made me incandescent with rage on his behalf <3 let’s go

- 'oh obi-wan, you're so mature for your age, I keep forgetting you're only seventeen years old,' qui-gon says, word for word, repeatedly, in master and apprentice, apparently willfully deaf to the industrial-sized warning bells about their relationship dynamic that should probably be setting off in his head. qui-gon believes in vibing with the living force and being in the moment right up until the moment requires him to pay attention to the kid he's raising for more than oh, one and a half minutes of self-effacing inner monologue and then he's like 'well unfortunately there is simply no time for that right now there are prophecies to be pondered'. (the fact that the admission that obi-wan has essentially been left to raise himself emotionally and the resigned reframing of that as 'and maybe that is a good thing!' is part of the olive branch they extend to each other towards the end... will my sadness never end)

- most of all it's so heartbreaking to me that qui-gon seemingly never understands just how much obi-wan as a person is rooted deeply in shame. I don't think that's a feeling that's particularly prevalent in qui-gon's own inner world so he doesn't recognize how central it is in obi-wan's psychology and completely misunderstands and misaligns with him again and again and again and then gets annoyed with obi-wan for that, thus making the shame even deeper. doubly painful because he does see the way rael lives so much of his life out of shame now and feels sad about it, but can't see the way he's contributing to obi-wan doing so. this is what fucks me up so bad about the generational trauma in star wars -- no one here meant to be cruel. for all his faults I do think qui-gon does love obi-wan and doesn't mean to hurt him. but the original sin of the prequels as far as I'm concerned is qui-gon tenderly drying away obi-wan's tears as he's dying even while completely failing to see him, his eyes too fixed on anakin's future to actually be with obi-wan, who's there right now and needs him.

these are simply very different people trying and failing to understand each other, and the harm that can still happen in that… 'if you love me, you don't love me in a way I understand', all the way through the disaster line, even when the love is there, it is there, that’s what hurts the most, it just doesn’t reach where it’s needed, there’s a connection that doesn’t happen. (ironically I think ahsoka doesn't doubt that anakin loves her, it's just uh everything else that went down. so y'know family curse broken! new even more fucked up curse achieved now with more child murder. I mean there already was some child murder in this family but anakin upped the game exponentially) 

- a lil guy who's basically tarzan except the gorillas are replaced with protocol droids and then he becomes a jewel thief is one of the funniest star wars concepts I've ever heard and I hope pax and rahara get to pop up in more star wars media, they’re great fun. (also an idea I think would be super fun to make a character/campaign around in Edge of the Empire or something, everyone playing different droids and then one person being robo-parented lol) 

- was not prepared to have rael posit a theory of what essentially seems to be the jedi version of predestination in his despair, but I do love to see it haha. especially interesting since he, qui-gon and dooku must be among the people alive who've studied the prophecies in most depth, and they've all reached different conclusions -- dooku decides to join the war of light and dark on the side of dark for some reason, qui-gon (possibly the stubbornest fucker the jedi order ever produced) 'turns towards the light not to win some great cosmic game, but because it is the light', and rael in the middle falls into the depressed apathy of 'it doesn't matter what we do here, the outcome is already decided; for there to be true balance there has to be as much dark as light in the world so we're fucked'. but in the end he does take qui-gon's words to heart and turns towards the light rather than accepting dooku's offer, even if he might not believe it makes a difference in the long run. man I love rael. hobo-looking sonofabitch living in a castle for eight years will just suddenly fling out some deep jedi theology huh

- master rael 'I'm gonna make up for the big terrible mistake I made on accident by making an even bigger more premeditated mistake on purpose' averross (affectionate)

- the added layer to dooku’s fascination with prophecy after reading dooku: jedi lost — that his best friend in the world was a seer who couldn’t turn it off and it destroyed him……….. dooku you’re not getting him back if you just understand what he saw you know that right

- the more I read of master and apprentice the more I realize that the reason yoda and qui-gon don't get along is that they're two of the judgiest bitches the jedi order ever produced. They’re like two cats scowling judgmentally at each other from opposite sides of the room pretending to live and let live while going ‘you’re wrong tho’ internally. 

- I dunk on him constantly (not entirely without affection, however grudging), but Qui-Gon is genuinely a really interesting character. He’s so… he’s so. He’s infuriating but he’s infuriating in an equidistant sort of way. You feel me. He’s pissing everyone off equally and he just doesn’t care because again, he’s the stubbornest judgiest bitch around and thinks he’s right all the time. I would be free to just enjoy his ornery ‘no actually I’m right about this’ ass and the chaos he wreaks so much more if Obi-Wan didn’t have to live with the emotional consequences of it lol. 

- poor rael closing in on fifty with his puriteen middle-aged little brother clutching pearls about his getting laid once in a blue moon fhdskjahfas. again a really interesting insight into different ways of interpreting the jedi code, though, I love seeing the jedi not be an ideological monolith. to be fair to rael, having sex sometimes does seem to be the indulgence he has that causes the least conflict with his principles or loyalties so you know what honestly force speed you my friend why not. (and then there's qui-gon 'noooo sex is only okay if you're In Love (implied: like I was)!!!' jinn lmao. I wonder what he'd think of anakin and padme's relationship, would that pass the 'being sufficiently purely in love' test for him) I do like how consistently it’s shown that rael doesn’t mean to be cruel or unkind in anything he says, he always notices something landing too close to home and then pulls carefully back from it instead of pushing on. He seems to be the emotional intelligence powerhouse in this lineage (as long as he doesn’t have his feelings too tangled up in something, at least). 

Dooku: jedi lost also shows us that dooku absolutely knows rael is out there in the galaxy laying pipe and is, at worst, softly amused by it. So in this little family unit it’s only qui-gon losing his mind over it fjsdkafa I’m so used to having qui-gon be the wild card maverick compared to obi-wan ‘*in tears* but what are the RULES master’ kenobi, it’s so fucking funny that within the context that raised him he’s the stick in the mud 

I guess. the book also had a plot and it was not bad! some interesting insights about how the republic interacted with the big corporations and just how fucked everything already was by this point. I'm a pretty character-driven reader so that's what sticks with me for the most part

- obi-wan’s big teenage rebellion here being that sometimes. Occasionally. When he really loses his temper and gets hot under the collar. He’ll say something slightly passive aggressive out loud instead of keeping it contained inside his head. And qui-gon still can’t handle that gracefully AT ALL he snaps right back fdjskfhas. (I guess he also snitches on qui-gon to the council but well, you know, qui-gon was breaking republic law pretty brazenly at that point I think that moves beyond teenage angst and into ‘...master that’s a wholeass felony’ territory). Obi-Wan does go for a couple of low blows, but like. Nothing that’s not actually true, is the thing. And mostly he blames himself for not being good enough, because surely if he were qui gon wouldn’t treat him like this. Augh. hngh. Pain. suffering. 

- I am not one of the people who think everything would have automatically been just hunky-dory if only qui-gon lived and could have been anakin's master (in fact I would have given it a 50/50 chance of going exponentially worse way faster; being more similar as people is not always a guarantee that a relationship will go smoother and qui-gon is an incredibly difficult man to be close to for any length of time), but the way this book basically presents how the dynamic between dooku, rael and qui-gon could have gone on in the next generation too... it would have been incredibly unfair to obi-wan (as always I think that's just an universal constant lmao) but I think the odds of it turning out okay would have been better if you had him in the mix to run crisis control for both qui-gon and anakin, as he does for each of them individually as best he can anyway. at least he could have been free to be anakin's brother and friend purely in that scenario, without all the added mess of grief and having to take on a parental role there so young. he does basically fill that role in ahsoka's apprenticeship, after all.

- qui-gon finally hugging rael before he leaves the planet (and especially since when they were younger he wanted to, but held himself back from it)... that's still his big brother even with all the shit that's happened since ;_____; when someone teaches you how to swim (literally and symbolically) that shit stays with you I suppose

Relatedly: DOOKU getting hugged, and gladly. What the fuck. Are you all seeing this shit. I’m gonna cry or laugh I’m not sure which one why am I emotionally invested in the galaxy's most problematic grandpa now this sucks

[theinvisiblewoman73]

Joel Miller x Female OC

Synopsis: After a few months in Jackson, Ellie has settled in. Joel, however, still feels on edge. But a new arrival in town, and Ellie’s instant connection to them, will force Joel to confront parts of himself he’d rather not think about.

You have lost everything when you arrive in Jackson. Will the town, and the community you find there, be enough to give you a reason to carry on, to stay?

Prologue

“Would you get a move on!” You could hear her saying it but your attention was caught by the sun glinting through the leaves of the tree outside your house. The oak that your great grandfather had planted there, according to family legend. Now it was a beautiful old fellow, always there when you stepped onto the porch, casting its shadow onto the front lawn.

Erin lent on the horn, snapping you out of your daydream. “Magpie!” she shouted, leaning down across the passenger seat to peer at you. “Come on! I’m gonna be late for work. Again.” Running down the steps and down the path to the car, you got into the passenger seat, worried that she was irritated, but she just started up the car and smiled at you.

“Maggie Magpie,” she laughed, as she checked the side mirror and pulled away from the kerb. “Always looking at something.” Erin had been calling you that for almost as long as you could remember. She hadn’t used your real name for years, firstly calling you Magpie and then settling into Maggie. People you met now thought that was your actual name and sometimes you didn’t correct them. You liked it and because she had given it to you, it was special.

The car pulled out into the street that morning, the houses still quiet, the sun still low in the sky. That morning. September 26th 2003.

———

Late 2023

“You have to keep quiet,” you whispered, trying to make her see that speaking out would only lead to trouble. But Erin was angry.

“That’s easy for you to say,” she snapped back at you, but seeing the hurt on your face, she sighed. “Christ I’m sorry, Magpie,” she said. She hadn’t used that version of your nickname for a long time, and it made you think of her as a teenager, as a young woman. It hurt. Hurt to think of her this way, of everything that the two of you had gone through.

You looked at her, thin, older than she had any right to look. If things had been fair on the two of you, you would have had careers by now. Families. You should have been living next door to each other and car sharing on the school run. Not here. Not this.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, and put her hand on your arm. “I just can’t stay here any more. Can’t live with these people any more.” And she was right, but the idea of leaving made you feel terrified too. What would they say? How would they take your departure?

Erin was standing by the open window of the room you shared, the autumn wind lifting her hair slightly. Suddenly you both heard footsteps and the sound of someone running away. Erin spun round and looked outside.

“That fucking brat,” she grimaced angrily, and you leant to look out seeing Arthur running away towards the meeting house. “Shit, he was listening. We have to go, Maggie,” she told you, “The sooner the better.” She slammed the window closed as if it could hold in the secret that you had been discussing. But it was too late. Her voice had been heard.

———

It was freezing the day you finally walked away, smoke on the horizon behind you, silence after the storm. You had gone to get your coat, your bag, your few belongings. Stood in the crowd with everyone else, but finally had turned your back on them, left that hell behind you. You had no food. You would find that on the way. Or you wouldn’t. Because what did it matter now?

You skirted the village, keeping to the bare tree line, and focused on putting one foot in front of another. The snow was new, only a couple of days old, as you walked the line between what was behind you, still burning, and what lay out there. And there in the snow were footprints, leading out into the forest. Someone had already made a path there, and you let the footprints decide your way. You had no idea of where you were going, but this seemed as good a start as any. Or as good an ending.

You followed the steps into the silence.

[thegeminisage]

okay it's star trek update time. saturday we watched voy's "demon" and "one" and last night we did voy's "hope and fear" and ds9's "tears of the prophets."

demon (voy):

this one was so fun. i kept yelling THE GOOP IS ODO and it wasn't ofc but it was fun to imagine

a y class planet...i feel like we only ever see m class...this was very exciting

always exciting when they break out the space suits too

the ship landing is so silly and ridiculous. only slightly less ridiculous than the saucer splitting from tng

for a few minutes there i thought we were gonna have the tom paris/harry kim version of 2.25 resolutions. like because they could only breathe the planet's air. really really really funny

i love that the solution was to just let them clone everybody. imagine after voyager leaves and you can choose any crewman and all the little slimes want tuvok so you just have a bunch of tuvok slimes running around. 10/10

one (voy):

MY GIRL SEVEN....................

this one was soooososososo good

first of all, wtf at chakotay like talking to janeway about her bond with seven...that was gay as hell

i loved also she and the doctor eventually getting tired of each other. their scenes are so funny because they're both really autistic but in different directions

i love also when she gets put through the fire and succeeds...there is nothing she can't do. she really ran that whole ship on her own WHILE HALUCINATING i'm so proud of her

how clever to kind of leave it up in the air whether or not that guy was real, also. i went back and forth on it a few times and finally landed on not real only second before the reveal

her dream about being alone in the snowy tundra...damn. she like hates other people but also hates being alone. what a way to be

hope and fear (voy):

i had to physically pause this one multiple times to collect myself re: janeway/seven

the holodeck game. the argument where they both hit below the belt. the bit in the brig where they reference the first thing that happened in the brig and janeway had to touch seven's little eye thingy in the soft mood lighting wwwwow

i think the ethical dilemma here was a little silly though. like, my guy, you were banking on the ruthless guys who were stronger than the borg and also wanted to eat everyone else for lunch on helping YOU? like everybody say thanks janeway for getting rid of something even worse than the borg! not fuck you janeway for not letting the borg get killed by them

idk. i don't see that she did anything too awful. she sent them back home and saved them from the borg and saved the borg from them and then also got her people thru borg space AND got a gf out of it. leave her alone

i did like all the stuff about intuition vs borg knowledge though...janeway and her intuition remind me of kirk, but janeway and seven both fighting in the brig and then making up in the brig (complete with the touching) is very spones bread and circuses of them.

tears of the prophets (ds9):

man, sorry to say this, but...this script sucked bad. i dont think avery brooks is capable of phoning it in but we probability saw him get pretty close here. that final monologue, which should have ben about dax and was instead about the prophets, was poorly written

and dax's last words being about a baby - come on.

and kira and odo's argument - he is not so stupid he would do this without expecting her to be mad

and the scene between dukat and damar...where was the tension?? crazy dukat great but he's been better

even the thing with quark and bashir moping around in the holodeck because of dax was bad on paper

like, all of these things were saved (well, some of them were saved) by admirable performances from a charming and talented cast, but whew! like, julian looked so sad this became funny. kira and odo kissing to make up was so charming i forgave the premise

but dax's death was a bad death and her final arc being about a FUCKING baby was really sexist. sisko leaving not sure if he is coming back bc of some prophet thing right when bajor needs him most seems ooc. and his monologue to dax not being ABOUT. DAX. was a crime. poor terry farrell.

overall s6 has been great so far aside from a couple of bumps but man did it end on a sour note. i have heard season 7 is divisive so i guess we will see!!

TONIGHT: ds9's "image in the sand" and "shadows and symbols."

[pardonmydelays]

There hasn't been much news about him [LMM] lately for a while now until this month, so it's understandable to lose interest (I guess is the right term) in him and his projects. Warriors is definitely a huge step back for him! If he really is collaborating with Taylor Swift on this like we all began to speculate in April, then I would have rather it been some extended version of her song from TTPD featuring him. He is extremely capable of writing songs and creating characters for original musicals (even if they are based on a film or novel), and it just disappoints me that he went this route instead of spend his time and energy on a new original musical. Give me a reason to go to New York! I'm still going to to try and go next year anyway because there's a musical I really want to see (and because I am in dire need of going back), but I'm trying to get into musicals more and Lin just kinda ✨ threw away his shot ✨ with this one. As for Disney, yeah, I'm not entirely excited about that too, especially seeing that he probably chose Mufasa: The Lion King over Moana 2. I love "We Know the Way" and "An Innocent Warrior" the most! And "You're Welcome" and "How Far I'll Go". Bro really could've given us more songs like those in Moana 2... I'm sure the music will be good regardless, but it just lowkey sucks that he didn't write any of them.

I hope he has more, EXCITING projects coming up that he's been keeping a secret...

literally all of this - i agree with every single one of your words and i'm glad someone who's also a fan of his work has pretty much the same opinion about all of this (the warriors, collab with taylor, moana 2). there's really nothing more to say about this. we just have to wait and see what happens.

i don't think losing interest would be the right term in my case tho... it's actually more than that and i don't even know if i want to talk about it, but maybe i should. this fandom fucking destroyed my mental health to the point i don't want to be a member of this community anymore. i'm still a fan. i still follow him and i still love his work. i'm trying to keep up with all the updates. i know everyone here probably thinks i just found myself a new obsession and this is the reason i don't talk about lin anymore. trust me, i listened to in the heights the other day and i started sobbing like a goddamn clown. i still love him and i always will. i think it all went down when i created my musical theatre instagram account and started being more active in the fandom... the energy there is slightly different than here. people are actually fighting for his attention. his birthday was like a fucking shit show of who would do more just to be noticed by him. i kinda started feeling like maybe i am worth nothing because i've never met him, never been to new york (simply because i cannot afford it at the moment) or never been noticed, or maybe i haven't been here long enough, well, i also don't have a motherfucking role in this fandom - i'm not a writer, i don't make art, no talents at all, i'm just here to admire and enjoy his work. it all went too far and i was even too fucking tired to keep answering all the asks i was getting about him (and there was a lot of them at some point, probably because i was the most active member of this community on tumblr and someone who was always defending him and people started treating me like a person who knows fucking everything about him and that's just not true). i enjoyed it for a while. then i stopped. who the fuck even am i to be treated like a goddamn leader of the fandom or whatever the case was. i don't know. all i know is that it was just too much. i appreciate the fact that i was getting so many nice messages from all those people but ugh... i was once asked about discord server for his fans and i decided to create one with a huge help of my mutuals. then i fucking left. my own discord server. i don't even think anyone noticed. lmao. nobody actually asked me why, so that's what i assume. i was exhausted and drained. i just think people are taking all of it too seriously??? it was actually my mistake that i ever let myself think i was worth less than others because of all those stupid things. anyway. i don't want any of this. i hope no one in this fandom even remembers me now, maybe except those people i still talk to. the rest is history.

you may think i am making the same mistake now, but no. it's different. i am just here to have a good time, reblog silly pictures with my silly little tags and maybe make some of my mutuals laugh. i also want the new members of the fandom to feel loved and safe and to know that they are all equally important, doesn't matter if they were here years ago or joined last week. it's all just so fucking stupid. i don't have a role and i don't want one. i'm just here to enjoy it, it's way more fun this way - tumblr is actually great for me again.

i have no idea why i decided to use your ask as an opportunity to tell all of this. i don't know. i'm sorry. it just had to be said i fear.

one last thing, if you really want to get into musicals more, i can recommend you some of my favourites. i have a good taste actually!

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

You mentioned yesterday when answering my 1-3 review-ish that all the Chapter 5s bar one would be quite low down the list so seeing 3-5 here, doesn't really surprise me all that much because this has a LOT of flaws with it.

And given the history behind this chapter its little surprise as out of all the V3 Chapters, 3-5 suffered the most development hell of them all as Kodaka and everyone at Spike Chunsoft struggled really hard to come up with a good Chapter 5, and there were lots of drafts and revisions each with wildly different outcomes. The only recurring theme between each version was that the victim and culprit worked together. So if you are wondering why Kaito and Kokichi feel out of place as a victim/culprit pair, that's why because there was a good chance neither of them were meant to die this chapter but after slamming their heads against the wall enough times, this is what we got. I am curious what the other alternatives we could have gotten were but short out of a data breach I don't encourage under any circumstances, I doubt we would ever find out.

As you mentioned a big issue is this is a reskin of 2-5 but its a way inferior version since Kokichi is not Nagito. Nagito is a creditable threat because we've seen many examples on how willing he was gonna go for his ideals, and he also makes it very clear if he likes you or not. Plus Nagito had just found out the truth about Class 77-B being the Remnants of Despair so there was a motive for his anger. With Kokichi it felt like since everyone hated him after what he did last Chapter he decided to go "fuck it" and go completely crazy.

Another major difference between Nagito's and Kokichi's plan was Nagito had thought out his plan well and made it so it became almost impossible to solve since anyone could have thrown the poisoned fire grenade. The only way there were gonna win is to weed out the traitor which only works because Nagito would view the traitor as the only innocent, and this meant Chiaki had to expose herself to ensure Nagito's plans failed. But all of this can be saved for 2-5. Kokichi's plan though had nurmous holes in it since yes he drove everyone to despair but all the Mastermind had to do was use a Flashback Light to give them hope and that brought everyone's spirits up. Plus kidnapping Kaito was always gonna be a poor move since we all know someone who is very attached to Kaito and who would not hesitate to delete Kokichi from existence if given the chance, so does it really come as a surprise when Maki decides to try and rescue Kaito on her own, and kill Kokichi in the crossfires?

And while Kokichi making a unsolvable crime is a good idea on paper, in reality seeing as Team Danganronpa would do anything to keep the show running, plus there was already a case of the culprit being the wrong person with 3-1, so they would just execute whoever was in the exicel regardless of if its true or false because the producers don't care, they just want a good show. And even if everyone was killed in Chapter 5, there's a good chance it would have made the show even more popular, because there was evidence that Danganronpa was getting stale in the V3 universe as you would expect from such a long running show. So having it so everyone died in one chapter in a unsolvable case, that would have brought a lot of in-universe discussion and it might lead to Team Danganronpa changing the format slightly so that more scenarios like what Kokichi's plan was would come out like making more disruptive characters like him. Far from stopping the Killing Game, Kokichi's plan would have benefitted it more then anything.

I think there should have been more emphasis on Kaito's illness rather then it be a throwaway but once again since 3-5 has been muddled around so much, it could have been that some scenarios would have had the illness be more of a factor and Kaito dropping dead during the trial or something. What's worse is that Shuichi and Kaito have a bit of a fallout in 3-5 due to the previous class trial and while Maki tries to help patch things up, I'm not really sure if this conflict was ulitmately resolved satisfyingly, I know Kaito does apologise to Shuichi when he secretly visits him while being held captive, but given Kaito was under watch from Kokichi at the time, its not sure if its sincere though the fact he gives Shuichi words of encouragement before he dies means I do think the bridges have been mended but I dunno I wish it was done better.

Another thing is due to how confusing 3-5 is, a lot of people have ran conspiracy theories that Kokichi didn't even die, since due to how the whole trial was run and how compliant Kaito seemed to be, it could be Kokichi was just hiding afterwards and him being alive explains the plothole of how the auidence seemed to comply at the end because Kokichi hacked into the broadcast signal and turned it off so nobody could vote. And while people give all kinds of evidence and its a interesting theory, its one I don't buy because I just believe its wishful thinking from Kokichi fans that he is still alive.

The whole Gopher Project fake storyline was also kinda meh as while its revealed to be completely fake, its like how do people not notice a swarm of meteorites heading towards Earth with space COVID in them? I know Bubbles played with this in Starship of Hope by explaining its caused by a rogue planet going through the Kulper Belt which made the astariods go crazy, but still we have eyes on space all the damn time, sure we sometimes miss a asteroid or two but not an entire swarm of them. That's kinda hard to NOT notice and also how come Jupiter doesn't do its job and mess with the flight path of a lot of them? Really you could tell the plan is bogus and fake and really the only logical conclusion I can see is that its terrorism and a group similar to Ultimate Despair hijacked the meteorites and just yeeted them at Earth. Kinda glad it wasn't real in all fairness.

Another issue here is the Maki-Kaito relationship. This is one of the few "canonical" pairings as Maki more or less admits in this chapter she has developed feelings for Kaito and its what drives a lot of her actions since she just wants Kaito to be okay. And that's fine because love can make people do stupid and crazy things, but it wouldn't be what Kaito wanted from Maki. As the entire character arc between Kaito and Maki is the former wanting to show the latter there is more to life then being a merciless monster, and that she is a person with thoughts and feelings. So if the entire character arc is for Maki to learn to be her own person, then why does she decided to go and try to do a dramatic rescue to save Kaito and kill Kokichi in the process? Especially since Shuichi and co already made plans to rescue Kaito and confront Kokichi the following day so why does Maki decide to go rogue when there was already a plan in the works?

And I know the easy way is that Tsumugi made Maki do it, but since we have never seen Tsumugi do something like that in V3 and if anything she was panicking big time during the entire chapter which makes it seem she's lost control and recieving hell from her superiors. Her statement in Chapter 6 it was part of the plan I suspect was an lie to save face because looking how she reacts in Chapter 5, its very telling that she's lost control of the situation.

I am reminded of the fake spoilers of Chapter 5 which gave some interesting alternatives that we could have gotten. One of these fake spoilers is the reveal that Kokichi was born into a cult of Despair and was groomed to be its leader...and all the horrific implications that follows. The characters find out about this in Chapter 5 and they confront Kokichi who goes completely crazy as a result due to the trauma involved as it turns out the reason he lies all the time is as a defensive measure for what he had to endure. So Kaito decides to kill Kokichi because everyone assumes he's the mastermind, but midway through Kaito killing Kokichi, he realises that Kokichi isn't the mastermind but its too late as a fatal blow was dealt. Kokichi though is happy since it means at long last, someone believed him and he dies condent. Kaito then takes Kokichi's body and crushes it under the hyderelic press so in the fake spoiler, he was already dead when the press went down, and then he had to rush to the trial to stop Monokuma from trying to frame Maki as the blackened and then he implores everyone to vote him.

The trial itself is fun because you don't know who the victim and culprit is but the problem and its another plot hole, is that Kokichi apparantely wrote an entire script for Kaito to act like him. Thing is he wasn't able to gloat Kaito into helping him until after Kokichi got fatally poisoned by Maki who if he did, would mean Maki gets killed, and when you are slowly dying from poison you don't have enough time to write 5,000 words on how to speak Kokichi. I mean I probably could do it in about 5 hours, but I use a computer, Kokichi would have had to write this all out which takes longer. You could argue that maybe Kokichi had this written in advance but how was he gonna convince Kaito, who btw hates his absolute guts and was only helping him because if he didn't one of the people he cares about the most would die. And it also implies Kokichi has Ultimate Analyst like abilities which again is something we haven't seen from the character.

Long story short, while the trial had good emotions and it led to a interesting case, the fact that this was apparently a pig for Spike Chunsoft to figure out how to write it shows, because they wound up doing a rehash of 2-5 but missing a lot of its good marks and leaving behind a lot of plotholes and stuff that doesn't make sense. Maybe if Chapter 5 wasn't so much of a brain fart for Kodaka, maybe the case could have had more consistancy and be stronger overall. But as it stands, we are left with a chapter which has a lot of flaws and plotholes and a scheme that was doomed to fail due to the nature of the Killing Game.

Sadly, this won't be the only time a chapter gets slaughtered by edits and changes which wrecks the entire narrative, but I see that one being way more severe as it happened literally at the last minute. But you see which one I'm referring to when we get there.

//First of all, I'm really sorry I didn't answer this yesterday. I always look forward to your reviews, but yesterday I was preoccupied with personal matters.

//I had some friends over for the week to celebrate my birthday that happened at the beginning of the month. And I create all of these posts in advance, so it just uploaded on its own without me needing to do anything.

//But I'll talk my way through this now. To start with, I'm gonna be real, if I ever had the chance to talk with Kodaka and his team, and we got to talking about Case 5, now that I know what was going on at the time, I think I'd have nothing but kind words for the man.

//Yeah, okay, I don't think I would try to hide all the issues that I talked about with V3-5, but if this really was under the constraints as you've described them, I think what we actually got is pretty freaking fantastic.

//Again, I LIKE this case. I just have very prevelant cons with it that kind of balance out the pros. While I do really like the alternate scenarios that you talked about here, if I'm being real, I still think I prefer what we actually got as opposed to them.

//In terms of comparison to 2-5 though, it's very easy to pinpoint exactly why it falls so flat. And the main reasons all have to do with the masterminds behind the plan.

//Let's just say that there's a reason why there are so many videos and posts out there trying to pschoanalyse Komaeda. Because not only is it a fun and interesting thing to do to try and explain the actions of this madman, and debate whether or not it's justifiable to do so, but it's rewarding to as well, regardless of what conclusion you reach.

//Nagito's motivations are flawed and nonsensical, but they are also logical. He's had such a rough life that constantly teeters on and off collapse due to his batshit luck that he cannot control, so the reason why he's crazy is because he tries to ground himself with whatever he can. It's like a coping mechanism, and it makes him do insane things.

//He loves hope because he fears despair, and as stated here, the simple reason why he did what he did in Case 5 is because he had a reason to want to go after everyone else. He found out that the Future Foundation were the good guys, and the students were the bad guys, which is why a switch was flipped that made him set up the trap as intended, and it's genius.

//But Kokichi isn't the case. Psychoanalysing him is almost impossible, because he's both too simple AND too complicated.

//The short version is that he's just a pathological liar, but Kokichi throughout all of his spiels about how lies and truths can change, he never actually gives a reason why he lies; at least not an honest one. And when he dies, even Shuichi says that they will never find out what's really going on through his head.

//And neither do we. And we likely never will.

//On the one hand, Kokichi being left as such an open book for people to make their own interpretations is cool, but at the same time, it just stirs conflict, because everyone can kind of agree that Nagito's psychology comes from a singular place, largely because of how straightforward he is as a character.

//Kokichi is complex for the sake of being complex, and it doesn't really work in his favor for this case.

//But yeah, Kokichi's plan to create an unsolvable crime in Chapter 5 could have made the show more popular, completely going against what he tried to do to end the game. What's worse, as I mentioned, it is really taken away what Kokichi tries to do when Tsumugi stands on ceremony and tells everyone she predicted he would attempt this, because she wrote his character.

//Assuming that's true, which lets be real, it probably isn't, but assuming it is, that really means that this whole trial was just overall worth absolutely nothing. Despite how much they try to play up Kaito's sacrifices as noble, Kokichi was trying to destroy a power that he didn't fully understand.

//Nagito knew, when he was dying, what was really going on in the virtual world, and formed his plan surrounding that. Kokichi had no idea what he was up against, tried it anyway, and played with fire. While that's not out of character to him, Kokichi is more methodical than he lets on. Everything he does means something in the grand scheme of things, as Chapters 4-6 really try to show.

//So it just kind of sucks that it turned out this way.

//What I will say though is that in regards to Shuichi and Kaito's falling out, it does make sense how that one quick conversation was enough to fix it.

//Not only was the situation desperate at the time, but I don't think Kaito was ever THAT mad at Shuichi.

//Kaito, contrary to what people might think, ISN'T an idiot. He KNOWS that if Shuichi hadn't exposed Gonta, they would have all died. But it ties in with his belief that no matter what, he could not believe that Gonta would be cruel enough to commit a murder on his own. And he was kind of right, considering Kokichi masterminded most of Case 4.

//Shuichi is not to blame for what happened to Miu and why Gonta turned out the killer. But that doesn't stop him being angry about it, and just taking it out on Shuichi because he's basically the only one that he can anymore.

//That doesn't make it right, let me just quickly add. It's still stupid of Kaito to do that. I just think it would be in-character for him to realize such himself, but unable to prevent himself from lashing out about it because it upset him that much.

//In his defence, V3-4 was VERY upsetting.

//Next, the Kokichi conspiracy theory, while cool, probably isn't accurate either. Because there would be no reason for him to hide away like he did, because again, he would not have known about V3 being a TV show.

//Also, in regards to Maki, I'm not going to defend her actions, because they were still stupid, but you have to remember that Maki, while agreeing to the rescue, had a few reasons why she went on her own. The most likely circumstance is that everyone agreed to go save Kaito in the hangar, but Maki probably realized that while everyone was willing to fight Kokichi and the Exisals, none of them were probably willing to kill him.

//She on the other hand, for lack of better words, needed that twink OBLITERATED.

//Also, what the hell was she going to do? Go back and admit that she might have killed both Kokichi and Kaito? So yeah, it was stupid, but the reason why Maki went off on her own is because she probably felt she couldn't trust the others, and at this point in time, she didn't care anymore. Kokichi had crossed every line and she wanted him DEAD.

//Also, I really don't think that Tsumugi had anything to do with Maki's actions, because Maki would have SAID so in Chapters 5 or 6. She could have gone "Wait, but that reminds me...Back when I was trying to rescue Kaito in the hangar, it was Tsumugi who said blah blah blah..." you get the idea.

//But we never got that, and come on. Tsumugi doesn't do a single damn thing that's remotely mastermind-like for the entire Killing Game, besides killing Rantaro and framing Kaede, which we don't even discover until Chapter 6. It's pretty unlikely of her to do it now of all times.

//I think there were also other ways that Kokichi could have convinced Kaito of what was going on. All he had to do was show him the proof that he WASN'T the mastermind, and that his tools were created by Miu, and explain that his plan is to end the Killing Game.

//In fact, Kaito even ADMITS at the end of the trial "I was on board the moment he told me he wanted to end the killing game."

//Like, Kaito SAYS this EXACTLY!

//The fact that Kokichi was able to goad him into it with the poison cure was pure luck more than anything. Despite how much Kaito hated Kokichi, and does so until his own death, I doubt it would have taken that much to convince him to help end the game, even if it meant making a sacrifice.

//But yeah, like I said already, it is honestly kind of surprising looking back how people remember Case 2-5 so fondly that they fail to realize just how much greater it is than 1-5, V3-5, and I would argue A-5 and A2-5 didn't really hit that mark either.

//Unlike Case 3, none of them are BAD. Not even this one. It's still very good and very fun. They just aren't universally fantastic. But we have a whole rest of a list for that to get to soon enough.

-Mod

[9leaguesofmirrors]

The Favour (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

What if Pauline refused to help Ross in season 3 episode 1 and she left before that very scarring scene ever happened? In this version, he decides to call in the help of an old acquaintance

This one is a little more ✨spicy✨ than my other fics, but it's just fade-to-black, I'm not quite brave enough to write actual smut

I love how well these GIFs go together, like Ross just made a smug comment and Lisgoe's sick of his crap 😆

**********************************************

"I've come here on my fucking time off, so this better be important."

Ross couldn't remember when he started being on speaking terms with Joseph Nigel Lisgoe, but it happened. They weren't friends, but they also weren't exactly enemies. Well, Ross thought Lisgoe was a sadistic cretin who used violence to make up for his lack of brain cells, and Lisgoe thought Ross was an arrogant bastard with no concernable personality. Other than that, they didn't hate each other

Hence why Ross didn't see an issue with enlisting his help. Since he didn't have his number, he had to track down and slip a note under his office door that read I need your help, we'll discuss at my house followed by his address

Which is how he got here, face-to-face with a very unhappy Lisgoe at his front door

"Make yourself at home."

Ignoring this statement (which he could tell was merely being said out of politeness), Lisgoe all but barged past and leaned against a counter in the kitchen

"Your house reminds me of you: dead on the inside."

"I didn't invite you here to insult me."

"Couldn't you at least have gotten dressed? You look like a right twat in that dressing gown."

"I think," Ross said as he went to the cupboard and poured them both a glass of wine "that we should focus on the real reason I asked you here."

Lisgoe curled his upper lip slightly, as if he would rather have been anywhere else at this point, but took the glass anyway. He took a sip, watching Ross closely

"You gonna tell me or am I supposed to guess?"

"Someone I hired for an undercover job has decided to go against me."

"Fucking hell, OK James Bond!"

This was met with a glare, not that Lisgoe seemed to be all that bothered. In fact, he has a shit-eating grin on his face that suggested he found this whole thing funny

"I don't know why you're laughing."

"You're so far up your own arse, no wonder you talk a load of shite!"

"I'm going to ignore that. All I'm asking is for you to get rid of her, I'm sure that won't be too taxing on you, what with the very little brain power you possess."

"I'm not a contract killer." Lisgoe put his glass down on the counter "I may be a crazy bastard, but I'm not some assassin."

"You're the only one with enough of a craving for violence and lack of empathy to do it."

There was a pause. Lisgoe took another swig of wine

He'd never admit it out loud, but it was refreshing to have someone challenge him. As much as he liked being the one everyone feared, there was something about Ross' lack of fear that both frustrated him and kept him oddly entertained

"What's in it for me?"

Ross considered his answer, but his thoughts were somewhat hazy, clearly more interested in why Lisgoe was staring at him. He was completely unreadable, which was off-putting to say the least. And yet it, for some reason, made him feel more drawn to him. He wanted to know what it would take to make him snap - what he would do when he did

"Who says you're getting anything?"

"I'm not doing this shite for free." Lisgoe sneered, taking a step towards him "It comes with a price."

They weren't incredibly close, but it was enough for Ross to briefly catch his scent. Sharp, spicy cologne which seemed to fuse with the underlying leftovers of cigarette smoke. It wouldn't be much of a surprise if he'd smoked before he came here; he could see it now, Joseph Lisgoe outside the door with a cigarette in his mouth... sucking it gently... his eyes closing as the smoke fell from his lips

Ross put an end to that thought immediately

"I could tip off the police to the rumours going around Royston Vasey about your violent tendancies, I'd say guess how many years you'd get," he put a hand on Lisgoe's shoulder and looked at him with pure mockery in his eyes "but I'd hate for you to hurt your head."

"You'd tell the police, would you?" Lisgoe retorted in a soft voice that made it sound more like a dare than a question

"What if I did?"

Despite not being the most intellectual of people, Lisgoe could read emotions on their faces and bodies easily. It's what he used to get under people's skin before he inevitably threw a punch. There was a stillness in Ross' body language that told him he was telling the truth - he respected that, in a way. Another thing he caught onto was Ross' eyes. They seemed to drag their way up and down his frame, meeting his eyes with a subtle, sharp intake of breath. He was being looked at in a way that was rare for him, yet something in him was very satisfied that it was directed to him alone

But there was something else. Something of a spark in his eyes, something that said I'm onto you

He wasn't about to give him the upper hand

"I don't ask for much." His voice was softer, slightly rough "But, if you need me as badly as you clearly fucking do, then you'll have to convince me."

"That depends on two factors: what you want, and how you want me to convince you?" Ross chewed his lower lip, an action that caused Lisgoe's jaw to tighten

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Satisfied with the edge he'd taken from him, Ross put down his glass. As he did, he made sure to let his hand brush against Lisgoe's, relishing in the way he jolted away

"There's a grand history of people who, daggers drawn, eventually find each other attractive." He said innocently, tilting his head to the side slightly as he stared into dusty blue eyes "What do you think, Joseph?"

Nobody called him Joseph

It's was Lisgoe or, if you worked for him, Mr. Lisgoe. A silent agreement among the inhabitants of Royston Vasey. He didn't know what was worse: the fact Ross had the balls to break that rule, or the fact it sounded so nice in his voice

"I think you need to remember who you're talking to. You might get away with saying what you like to the thick pigs at the dole house, but I'm not that easily fucked with."

The venom in Lisgoe's voice shouldn't have affected Ross the way it did. He wasn't scared, but it pierced through his chest and pumped molten fire through his body

"I assume," He put his hand deliberately over the man's wrist, his voice steady "you know what you want in return for all of this?"

Lisgoe took a step forward and stared. It was like he was considering not the offer, but him. Finally, he spoke again:

"Anywhere between 10,000 and 20,000 is great."

"Excuse me?" Was Ross' response, trying not to look too disappointed as Lisgoe pulled away "You expect me to pay you that amount for one simple task?"

"You're not asking me to have a little chat, are you? You want me to get rid of a bitch, and the fact you contacted me means you want it to hurt."

"You're hardly worth the oxygen I breathe, let alone £10-20,000."

"You've got a set of balls, haven't you?"

"I want you to leave."

"Now hold your fucking horses, I'm not done!"

He moved over to the address book on the table and opened it, slightly surprised by how empty it was. Surely this guy knew more people than WORK and MOTHER

"So, is your dad an asshole? Or is he dead?"

"What are you doing?" Ross asked, clearly not appreciating the question

"You got a pen?"

"Don't pretend you can write."

"Fuck off and get me a pen! Wait, shut up..."

"I didn't say-"

"Here's one."

Lisgoe had taken a pen from inside his suit jacket and scrawled something onto the page. Upon inspection, Ross noticed it was a phone number with the initials JNL next to it

"As a debt collector, I never like doing favours without getting something in return."

"And what exactly do you have in mind? If it's more money, I'm out."

"You doing anything tonight?"

Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn't one of them. Regardless, he shook his head neutrally

"I'll be back in an hour." Lisgoe put the pen down on the table "For the love of shite, get dressed."

"What's the occasion?" Ross sneered in response

"The occasion is, when I get back, I'm doing whatever the fuck I want with you."

Ross' chest caved in. He couldn't think of the worse reason: actual fear or... OK, maybe the second option. Either way, he was trying not to show it on his face

"What exactly are you implying?"

That made Lisgoe laugh a little. Ross went to question him, but was quickly silenced by being tugged by his dressing gown into a searing kiss. It was forceful, not that it came as a surprise - this was Lisgoe, after all. And Ross certainly wasn't complaining. Especially not when his lower lip was being pulled between Lisgoe's teeth

"Unless you have another stupid question, I'll see you later today"

Before he could turn and go, Ross had grabbed him by the wrist

"You said earlier that a debt collector always gets something in return, would you also say they'd rather get it in a timely manner?"

"I don't remember what I said, but sure. What's your point?"

"There's clearly something between us. A certain... heat-"

"Alright, Ozzy Wilde."

"Oscar Wilde, but that's beside the point. What I'm saying is what's the point in waiting for it to cool down?" In a moment of boldness, Ross reached for Lisgoe's jacket. Without breaking eye contact for more than a second, he unbuttoned it slowly "Unless you're too scared to-"

Once again, his words were cut short and Lisgoe's mouth was on his. It was frantic and raw, neither one of them was interested in being gentle. Ross' hands were warm, Lisgoe's skin was cold, which came together to form what could only be described as electricity. Without breaking the kiss, Lisgoe was being pushed against the kitchen counter and, well, Ross was dropping to his knees to return a favour

*********************************************

"So, what's the bitch's name again?" Lisgoe asked as he threaded his belt through the loops of his trousers

"Pauline Campbell-Jones," Ross sat down on his sofa "she's completely egregious. She's violent, foul-tempered and vulgar."

"Right, I suppose you only find those traits sexy in men."

"Let's make this clear, I only did that to pay you back."

Lisgoe didn't know why he got the urge to ask, but he sat down beside Ross and looked at him with slightly furrowed brows

"Do you fuck everyone that you ask to favours?"

"No."

"So I'm a special case?"

Ross looked Lisgoe up and down contemplatively, then replied "Yes."

"Can you say anything else? One-word responses piss me off."

There was another silence. Ross stared at the wall, thinking things through. OK yes, maybe part of the reason was to get Lisgoe on board with his plan, but did he enjoy it? Maybe he did. So what? Since when did sex mean anything? That being said, even with all that aside, Lisgoe wasn't completely insufferable to be around. In fact, he was one of the few inhabitants of Royston Vasey that he could see as being something of an equal to him

"We don't have to be strangers, I suppose. You did give me your number for some reason."

"Ignore it then," Lisgoe shrugged as he got up "I just gave it to you so I could tell when I was done with her."

Then there was an odd moment of pause

Ross stood up and they were facing each other. It was awkward and tense, but not altogether unpleasant. Just strange. Almost as if neither of them were in a rush for it to be over

Suddenly, Lisgoe snapped out of it and headed for the front door. Ross went to let him out. It was all very formulaic, as if nothing happened between them. And surely, that's all it was

Nothing at all

Once he'd gone, Ross went back into the kitchen area and looked at the number written into his book. Then he saw it

Lisgoe had left his pen behind

If he hurried, he could probably catch up and give it to him. Or he could wait for him to realise and come back for it

Ah well, what's the rush?

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Watched the 2004 PotO movie with my beloved, for an objective--that is, as close as I can get--experience. Except it wasn't really but I had a great time listening to his reactions. These are out of order because I'm cobbling together a few day's worth of reactions due to me having the kind of brain disease that can only watch movies a small chunk at a time before getting bored.

under the cut: this man has a TYPE, and my man (real) is not rooting for my man (fictional).

"Carlotta is so hot...she's right, these things should not happen...she's even right about the dress being too long--somebody just tripped..."

[about Christine]

"Who is this child...she looks like she saw a moose for the first time and she's going wow, what a big deer...somebody please tuck this child into bed; she needs her rest..."

[on the changed backstory]

"WAIT, SINCE SHE WAS SEVEN? THIS MOTHERFUCKER'S BEEN GROOMING HERE SINCE SHE WAS SEVEN? What do you mean, you "IGNORE" that part? Oh, it's not in the book? It's not in the stage version? Who the fuck decided to make everything worse, then? What the fuck? What the fuck?"

[on Carlotta again]

"I love her. She's so fun. She's so right. She's so hot. Look at her man, standing up for her. He looks like he'd sell you a slice of pizza on a NYC street corner for like, a dollar. Buck A Slice. That's his name. Look at Buck A Slice, supporting his woman. Goals. That's who I want to be. What a man. That's why he's with the hottie. This is going to be me, after your next novel drops. An editor will question you and I'm gonna be like, amateurs. And then you'll storm off and I'll follow."

[after MotN, unmasking, etc]

"You know, [the Phantom] just needs some boundaries and a slightly more mature woman. If he was just like "I'm kind of thing about my face, leave the mask alone," so many woman would be like "yeah, I'm down, let's go." What? No, I know YOU would be down. But other, slightly more normal women would also be down. He's a good looking dude. Like, he's a terrible person but he'd do fine for himself if he wanted. But no."

[in general]

"I can tell I'm getting older because I'm like, everyone sucks here. Except Carlotta. And Buck A Slice. And the Managers. Firmin? Firmin's the best."

[...]

"I think Webber just can't write women as, like, people. People with their own reasonable agendas and motivations. Like, what has Carlotta actually done wrong? Nothing! She's just being assertive. She doesn't want to be replaced by the young girl the patron is fucking, which is a reasonable desire to have, and a reasonable thing to assume is happening. How is she to know that Raoul hasn't gotten any?"

[somewhere during Notes]

"Man, poor Raoul. Like, everybody thinks he's fucking the new soprano and he hasn't even taken her to dinner. He's just standing around getting accused and he hasn't even had any fun. What's his crime?"

[on Raoul again]

"Like, the DISRESPECT. Imagine. On one hand, a pedophile murderer. On the other hand [gestures at Raoul], this asshole. And everybody's like 'oh jeez, I dunno, the pedophile murderer is looking pretty good, what a tough call.' Like, goddamn. this boy gets no respect."

[etc]

"YEAH I KNOW THE PHANTOM ISN'T USUALLY A PEDOPHILE BUT HE'S DEFINITELY A MURDERER. But look, his BITCH ASS just lost a sword fight. Fair--they're above ground and he's got no reason to be trained in sword. Raoul should have killed him, though. Poor Christine. That is not a good winter outfit. They didn't have to have her tits out for literally the whole film. They could have given her a higher neckline for one scene. What do you mean, people argue about "fathering gaze"? she's literally singing about her dead dad and he's calling her child. of course it's fathering gaze. Is that, like, good? No. But it's definitely fathering. What is it you call it, Team Daddying Gaze? Yeah. Man. Poor girl. Look at her. She's still thinking about the size of that deer. Somebody help her."

[etc]

"GOD, CARLOTTA'S SO HOT, why is nobody talking about this? Her and Buck A Slice are the only healthy relationship in this story. And he's not just some guy! He's the male lead! They're both so successful! What a power couple!"

[on Masquerade]

"Man, if swathes of people are way happier when you leave them alone for a while...if your presence is making the lives of this many people worse...god, this guy sucks. See, everybody's singing about what a nice three months they've had since the Phantom shut the fuck up and stayed in his basement. Everyone is THRIVING. their skin is clear. they're sleeping well. they finally got around to organizing their closets. Everybody is SO HAPPY and now--ah yeah--now this asshole is back, ready to make everybody miserable. His outfit fucks, though. Do you like it? You would wear it to the grocery store? I know. You like the mask? You would also wear it to the grocery store? I know."

[...]

"Where the fuck is Raoul going?! I thought he was backing up to take Christine and go! Which is CORRECT! You don't have to wait for some asshole to finish his speech or find you in a crowd. If this ever happens to us we're just going to leave. You can read about the tragedy the next day, because we'll be alive, on account of not getting murdered. Oh, he was getting his sword? That's valid."

[on Don Juan Triumphant]

"Man, this is so horny. He wants to fuck her so bad. People really argue that he's asexual? Can they really not handle the idea that the ugly man is horny? This is SO horny. Oh, wow. WAY hornier than I thought it would be. That's not debatably horny. I like how the play within a play is also about masks and substitutions. That's fun. But everything about this is EXTREMELY horny on main. Look! There's our girl. Carlotta is SO hot."

[a few minutes later]

"Oh, she's crying over Buck A Slice's dead body. See? She loved him this whole time. She's never demanding or demeaning to him. This is the real love story. Very tragic. Unforgivable that Buck A Slice is murdered. What was his crime? Love. And professionalism."

[on Raoul]

"Where the FUCK did his sword go?"

[still on Raoul]

"This is a classic Dungeons and Dragons trap, which is nice. But he seems really sure that wheel does something. But in the book he's a navy boy, right? I'll allow it."

[...]

"I like that Raoul's not even talking about justice or trials or anything. He's just like, we gotta fuckin kill this guy. And he's right."

[a few minutes later]

"Wow, the--freeze frame that--like. I mean. There's more passion here in two seconds than in the whole...wow. The rope play. The thrashing. The homoeroticism..."

[...]

"Never mind. Raoul does not want to kill him. Raul is going CHOKE ME, DADDY, in everything but words."

[...]

"In this scene, Christine is crying because she realizes she is completely irrelevant and this has all been an elaborate role play scenario between boyfriends."

[...]

"In this scene, Christine is crying because she's saying, 'I shaved my legs for this, and for WHAT?'"

[...]

"You know, in most stories, when the mob gets together to go find someone, it's bad and they're being judgmental and wrong. But in THIS case--the mob is so right. This guy killed Buck A Slice. He's got to go."

[...]

"I know you don't view the ending as a redemption arc, but Christine's part here is really solid. She's got some backbone. It's powerful. I think you're wrong-- she is the main character. On the other hand, this is absolutely about the Phantom and Raoul now. Implicitly it has been about them the whole time. I criticized Love Never Dies for being about the Phantom and Raoul instead of the Phantom and Christine, but I see now that I was wrong. This is the Phantom and Raoul show. How does the kid happen? It's a mystery. Immaculate conception is about as likely as Christine getting some here."

[...]

"She's giving him...the ring that he gave her earlier? Which was the ring he took from her? That Raoul gave to her? That's...no, no, that's on purpose. In this scene, Christine is crying as she gives the Phantom Raoul's ring back, contemplating how extraneous she is here, and how she was used as a prop in an elaborate sex game between two men. "I shaved my legs for this...here's your ring back and I hope you and Raoul are happy together...I shaved my legs for this and now...maybe Meg wants to scissor. I don't know.'"

[sunflowergem]

I know it says just two characters but you should answer 24 for all three of your new sonic girls

Edit: if you see this version, the ask is actually answered now

I really hope I covered everything since I had to go out at one session I might have just skipped some details I was thinking about earlier and I don't have a good way to go back to it again, sorry!

God fucking damn it Tumblr! So this ask is not actually done yet. I was trying to edit and save as I go and it changed it to the post button for some reason. Expect changes on this in the next hour or so. I will put an edit when it is done.

Asks for my new babies 🥹

How do these two (I was trying to put the tags in before being interrupted at work and I fully forgot to put in that it was meant for the three of them (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠) three interact with each other in public versus in private?

I know I'm going to yap a lot so putting it under a cut

So we're going to get actually five different options here. The dynamic changes slightly when they are hanging out, just the three of them, with the main like Sonic cast, in public within the Sonic cast world, in public at school, and in their own world in public.

In public in their own world

So I've decided to make them fully celebrities in their own world. That means they definitely have to put a public face when they go out and about. I would imagine their demeanor is very similar to like famous singers when it comes to interviews and things like that. Maybe less controlled, but they definitely worry about their image and being good role models.

I was actually thinking about it on the ride home and I think they fall somewhere in between idols and heroes back home considering they have magic and the whole performance thing. I'll probably write up some more information on their dimensions dynamic later now that I'm starting to crystallize the idea in my head.

The dynamic in public is a little performative unless their incognito mode with like sunglasses, baseball cap, mask that really classic superstar under cover look lol

I could see Diamond planning out like what they should have as topics as an option when they're out and about to make sure nothing goes wrong. They keep conversations light-hearted in case things get overheard and of course they go on interviews and have to act the perfect part. Not sure exactly what kind of threats they be fighting in public in their own world, but the public really likes them since they're pretty fun and are trying to protect everyone. Everything's pretty hunky-dory on that side of their life.

In public at their school

It's when they're the most rigid and when anxiety between the three of them can get the highest. They have to both perform as public figures and as students in this setting. So each of them is under a lot of stress. They also tend to keep each other in check when they are as a group and out and about so on the classes that they have individually they tend to isolate themselves a lot more. It just became a defense mechanism to keep them from doing something stupid. They all also try and keep up really good grades for a multitude of reasons so it's not like they aren't busy. The best version of their dynamic is when they can study as a group at school. They'll still be personable, but everyone at school also knows that there's work to be done so they don't get bothered too much. Spade keeps steady sessions on and keeping everyone focused, Diamond finds exactly what needs to be studied and analyzing their own weaknesses within classes, Clover is great at bringing some levity to the study sessions. Clover also brings snacks if they're allowed, and sometimes even if they're not which Spade scolds her for, and is great at randomly finding really good information for a research projects just because her wandering the shelves when she gets bored, but still kind of actively looking for things that are on topic with their subject.

In public in the Sonic cast world

Once they realize they're in another dimension and are able to reunite with each other they realize they have a bit of a refreshing change of pace in this setting. They don't have to be constantly looking over their shoulder for somebody with a camera or worried about what might be overheard so they can act more like just a group of gals out on the town. Heading out to cafes to indulge in all kinds of food, talking about whatever they feel like, admiring cute folks that walk by, they can embrace careless attitude that they perform back in public in their own world, but they never actually are able to relax into. It makes the full of conversation a lot more easily skewed towards the deep which is good for their friendship overall. Late night chat sessions are great, but sometimes you end up just going into the weirdest topic and uncovering truths about yourself when sipping a latte. Some quality bonding time 🤌🏽

In private with the main Sonic cast (so their friends)

These girls are all about the hype and that does not stop when it's the cast hanging out with them in a more relaxed setting. I'm picturing game night with like some of the more mainstay characters and they're either fiercely competing or they are cheering on for the other players. Even it's at something as low energy as like chess.

Each of the girls has something that they get competitive about. Clover is all about speed as hedgehogs tend to be in the series so she'd be all in for racing. I could see Diamond getting super invested in a game of cards or like Scrabble. And Spade is super good at video games, just so many different types of video games. I don't think this is Canon but I could see tails being super into video games when he's not inventing. Just love the idea of them playing together and getting super into it. Adorable 🥰

Each of them would definitely have their own set of Canon characters that they get along more with. I'll definitely be writing out relationship Dynamics later on, but given you've got one that's super outgoing one that's more down to earth and another that's super quiet. You could probably start to picture who's going to hang out with who if you're familiar with the characters. If not, like I said I am going to do a relationship breakdown with some of them Canon folks another time. It is just getting late and I want to make sure this is done, especially since Tumblr decided to fight me on this.

On the same vein of them hanging out with other characters. The girls love hanging out with each other, but sometimes finding folks that match your energy kind of exactly is a great change of pace. In like group party settings, they tend to ebb and flow with how often you can find them as a trio or separated. Often. They'll begin social gatherings for like the first hour or so as a bundle. Split off and go hang with like their people for an hour or two and then rebound back to being a trio for like 30 minutes usually and a bit more of a private but still public area. They need the 30 minutes to recharge before taking another round out and about with everyone else. This social pace tends to stay consistent until the party is over it just repeats in a cycle.

In private just the three of them

Ideal roommates. Clover adores cooking and is basically in charge of the whole kitchen. The others sometimes need to remind her to clean up, but once he point her in the right direction, she's on it. Spade manages technology and bills within the house/ apartment (not sure where exactly I want them to live yet) she's also in charge of division of labor when it comes to anything else. As far as cleaning and taking care of their domicile. She tends to keep it well balanced and other than Clover having dominion over the kitchen, no one gets stuck with one of the lamer chores like cleaning the bathroom constantly. Diamond is on top of bigger repairs and whatever greenery they might have. She's also the self-care queen and make sure that the other two are unwinding. Spade from managing everything and Clover from just her general slightly manic airhead energy. If it's just the three of them, diamond is definitely the most level-headed of the group. If there's any kind of arguing between Spade and Clover, you can be sure that she's there to manage it and make sure that everything comes to a satisfactory conclusion. The vibe in their space most of the time is like perpetual sleepover. Once all of their outside world responsibilities are finished 80% of the time it's them hanging out like it's summer vacation. Video games, movie marathons, doing online quizzes, face masks and just being silly together. 20% of the time you might lose one of them to needing some solitude. They each have their own room that they can retreat to and unless the other two think something is actually wrong, they won't question too hard if somebody needs some time to themselves.

As duos, Spade and Clover tend to hang out in the kitchen because Clover would be maybe making something and Spade. Is there sitting at the table chatting away about like whatever latest movie or gossip topic might be on their mind. Diamond and Spade might start watching a movie, but it'll dissolve into them being their own version of like mystery theater, 3000 or whatever that show was called with them absolutely tearing it to shreds. They both love so bad it's good movies so it works out. Clover and Diamond are more likely to end up in a either philosophic conversation or just quietly reading together. Diamond's the best at settling down Clover's energy. Spade brings out the more side in Diamond. And Clover gets spayed away from worrying about school or life or any of that stuff that they have to deal with when they head outside.

Okay, I feel like this is getting long and I think that answers most of it. Like I said, I'm going to do a relationship breakdown with some of the Canon characters and da girlz another time so look forward to that but yeah I hope this answers everything 💖

[boop-le-snoot]

@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

main masterlist ☀️ taglist

emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

[silver-tongued-bby]

Discretion

Pairing: Dom!CEO!Loki x Reader

Summary: After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dom!Loki fic - though it's not super bd/sm heavy, it explores themes of voyeurism, dub!con spanking, humiliation and degradation. Sexual acts are described including vaginal fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving) and sexual intercourse (f/m). Smoking is also described. Please read at your own discretion (hehe see what I did there?).

Words: 5,026

Author's Note: I'm excited to say that this is my first ever submission for a challenge! Specifically it's for @boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge.

I chose prompt 12 (Home for the Summer) and a slightly edited version of quote 17 ("If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me sweetheart darling.") then for kinks I chose voyeurism/exhibitionism and degradation though there's a sprinkling of praise kink in there too.

Not sure why when I think of summer I think of mid 90s summers but here we are. This kinda went places I didn't expect, nonetheless I hope you enjoy!

...

God you were bored.

Stretching out on the lounge chair you sighed, letting your shoulders droop with the long exhale.

“Oh honey, you can’t keep sitting out here in the sun.” Your eyes rolled behind your dark sunglasses, turning towards your stepmother as she came down the stairs from the deck of the house.

“It’ll give you wrinkles dear,” she was standing beside you now, hands on her hips as she stared down at you. She was wearing that ridiculous hat again- the one with the brim as wide as she was tall.

“Carla, darling, we can’t all hide away from life in hopes to look as good as you do.” You lazily gazed at her, sitting up to find your pack of cigarettes on the side table. Taking one out you brought it to your mouth and lit it with your gold plated zippo. You took a long inhale before exhaling right in her face, “when I tell people you’re 53 they can hardly believe it.” Her eyes widened- you’d found her drivers license months ago and held the knowledge of her true age over her since then. You continued, ”my compliments to your doctors. Oh and Botox, kudos to Botox.”

Her little hands formed fists, fake nails pressing tiny neon-pink crescents into her palm.

You laughed, lounging back in the chair as you leisurely took drags off your cigarette. Smiling to yourself as you counted- three, two, one, before Carla shrieked and turned.

“Arthur! Arthur!” She screeched, running back up the stairs to tell your father.

You were a little less bored now, but making Carla’s face turn red could only give you so much satisfaction. You knew your father could care less, they were both about to leave for the Côte D’Azur tomorrow for the rest of the summer, leaving you here alone to “consider the consequences of your actions.” Or however your father had put you dropping out of school after one year of graduate studies in Classics.

He couldn’t help himself from belittling your degree while you were studying, then once you’d decided it wasn’t for you his lectures changed to be about “never giving up” and “seeing something through.” You both knew he simply didn’t want you around- he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

“Now those will definitely give you wrinkles,” you heard a smooth, silky voice coming from behind you that made your heart race. Smiling, you swung your legs over the side of your chair, taking off your sunglasses and snuffing out your cigarette.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you started, eyeing the lithe figure as he emerged from the shadows. He held his hands in his pockets, his crisp black trousers fit perfectly to his frame. The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the pale skin of his toned forearms. You were well aware of the small scraps of white fabric covering your body, and you enjoyed watching his eyes trace over your skin. You’d lusted after him ever since your father had moved here during your first year of college. You’d met him at one of Carla’s Christmas parties- she invited everyone from the gated community over, including your neighbour, Loki Laufeyson.

“I’m so sorry if my stepmother’s incessant shrieking ruined your afternoon,” you grimaced, taking a sip of the ice cold vodka soda beside you. “Is there anything I can do to remedy the situation?” you asked, your eyes innocently meeting his.

He chuckled. “Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve already thought of something,” he said under his breath loud enough for you to just make out. He strolled towards you and took a seat on the lounge chair beside yours. “I’m actually here to see your Father. He’s asked me to check in on things here while him and Carla are away.”

You rolled your eyes- of course he did. You caught Mr. Laufeyson staring at you as you did that, his expression darkening slightly and his eyebrow raising before he continued. “I am surprised to see you here- last I’d heard you were studying in Europe. Graduate studies in Classics, right?”

“Yeah. It didn’t exactly pan out.” You looked down, cursing yourself for feeling your face grow hot. The last thing you needed was your gorgeous neighbour feeling sorry for you.

“Laufeyson you bastard, you’re late!” Your Father was coming down the stairs, jovial with his greeting.

Loki got up from his seat to meet your father. “Arthur,” he said, shaking his hand. “My apologies, I got held up at the office. It’s been insanity since the new acquisition.”

You tuned out the rest of the business jargon and settled back into your seat, facing the other way. You put your sunglasses back on, wincing once your heard Carla’s shrill voice coming from above.

“Is that Loki Laufeyson? Oh it’s been ages!” she gushed.

“I suppose it has.” You could tell she’d pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on either cheek. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the clear discomfort in his voice.

“So I can trust you to keep an eye on the place?” your father chimed in.

“Certainly, although it seems your daughter is perfectly capable of doing so herself.” Mr. Laufeyson rightfully pointed out. You raised an eyebrow, wishing you could see the expression on your dear dad’s face from your position. Mr. Laufeyson was probably the only person in this community that could and would tell your Father that- his annual appearance in Forbes certainly cemented the position.

“You never know with kids, Laufeyson. No matter how old they get you can’t trust them to carry through with something. Just wait until you have one of your own- then you’ll know what I’m talking about." He laughed loudly. You scoffed. Fucking asshole.

“I see. I’ll keep an eye out then.” Mr. Laufeyson said cooly.

“Right well feel free to pop by anytime, we leave tomorrow morning. Here’s the number of my cellular telephone- I always have it on me you know.” Your father was obsessed with his clunky mass of plastic- he brought it everywhere he went, mostly to brag about it to strangers or talk obnoxiously on it to avoid conversations with you or Carla.

“He really does. Even in the bedroom!” Carla giggled, causing you to shudder in disgust.

“Of course, well I should be on my way.” He stepped back over to you. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you around. Here’s my information,” he placed a thick, black and white business card onto the small table beside you. “In case of emergency.”

You pulled your sunglasses down your nose and slid your eyes up his body, biting your lip as you met his stare. “I’ll be sure to remember. See you around, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He considered you for a moment and you thought he was about to say something else before he nodded and turned, heading for the gate.

You settled back in your seat and nestled the headphones of your discman over your ears. You pressed the play button, the beat of Mariah Carey’s “Fantasy” drowning out whatever Carla and your father were arguing about once their guest had left.

...

It was much later that evening that you finally slipped from your room to find some dinner. The house was dark- you knew your father and Carla had an early flight. Grabbing a wrapped plate from the fridge that the housekeeper had left you you headed to the back deck to eat. You kept the lights off as you watched the dim foamy white of the ocean’s waves hitting the rocks below, finding peace in the sound.

Finishing your meal you were about to head inside when you saw a light come on out of the corner of your eye. From where you were sitting you could see into a room on the top floor of Mr. Laufeyson’s house. Interesting- you’d never seen into this room before, the windows that faced your father’s house were usually shuttered. You laid back and lit a cigarette, choking on the inhale when you saw Mr. Laufeyson emerge, shirtless, his eyes dark and hungry. He was pulling a woman behind him, a blonde, her shirt unbuttoned to expose a lacy red bra. Once he stood at the edge of the bed he turned around to kiss her, his hands moving to the clasp of her bra. Undoing it, he pulled away to slide it down her arms before turning her around and unzipping her skirt, leaving her in just a high waisted red lace thong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were transfixed by the scene unfolding in front of you. He flung her on the bed- from your position you could see it all as if it were happening in a room adjacent to yours. Climbing over her he dipped his head to capture her lips once more as he ground against her. Your legs clenched together as you continued to smoke your cigarette, the combined effect of the nicotine and the scene in front of you making your head spin.

His hand trailed down to the red lace covering her heat as he continued to kiss and grind against her. Slipping his fingers in you found you were doing the same to yourself, feeling the hot wet of your arousal. He had pulled away from her now, watching her face intently as her back arched up off of the mattress, her hands clutching his toned arms. He was saying something to her, his eyes going from her face to her heaving breasts as he continued to work his hand inside of her. A flush was blooming on her chest, her mouth open and her eyebrows drawn together. You were moving your hand in time with his, your arousal coating your fingers. His movements became faster as he continued to speak to her, smiling menacingly before her back arched fully off the bed, her hands grasping at him. Withdrawing from the dampened red lace his fingers glistened in the light, wet from her release.

He easily picked her up off the bed, carrying her to the window sill. He roughly pulled her panties down before he undid his trousers then lined himself up at her entrance. He pressed into her, her back flat against the glass and his face visible beside the back of her head, his eyes closed. You imagined how it’d feel, the cool glass against your back, his warm hand firmly gripping your thigh, his strong arms holding your legs open as he fucked you. He began to move inside of her then his eyes opened, staring straight at you in the darkness. Your heart beat faster as you felt yourself blush- surely he couldn’t see you out here, you were shrouded in the dark. You could barely see the outline of your hand as you brought it to your face for another puff. You froze- the cigarette.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, quickly removing your hand from its position and shakily putting out the cigarette on your dinner plate. Sliding your chair out quietly you chanced one last look towards the window- he was smirking in your direction as he continued to move against the blonde. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you backed away towards the porch door. You could swear his eyes didn’t leave you once and it sent shudders through you. You made your way back to your room and lay awake for hours, each time you closed your eyes you saw his piercing blue-green stare and filthy smirk.

You must have drifted off at some point since you eventually awoke to silence- an anomaly. You’d usually wake to Carla’s screeching laugh as she spoke on the phone to her friends, or she’d send the housekeeper Marie to wake you. You checked the clock beside you- 9AM. Carla and your father were long gone by now.

You smiled at that, stretching lazily before cranking the radio and dancing around your room as you got ready, the sunlight beaming in through your window. Making your way to the main kitchen you froze, last night coming back to you. The way Mr. Laufeyson had looked out at you as if he were expecting you to be there. Did he leave the blinds open on purpose? You shook your head, no way he’d be that forward. Sure he flirted with you every now and then, but nothing beyond that. You pushed the thought from your mind for the rest of the day.

...

A week passed quickly, you spent a lot of time with your friends, going shopping, to the beach, or local restaurants. You didn’t spend much time around the house so you hadn’t seen Mr. Laufeyson since the “incident”. On Friday you met up with some friends midday and got a ride to one of their parents’ beach houses. You spent the day there, drinking and laughing as you enjoyed the sun. Your friends dropped you back off at your place at around 7pm, you were pleasantly buzzed but looking forward to a quiet night in.

It was so hot outside you decided to take a dip in the pool. Cranking the radio in the backyard you decided to skinny dip- no one was home anyways. You sighed as your heated skin met the water, cooling instantly. You did a few laps before lazily swimming a backstroke and humming the music on the radio when you saw something coming towards you out of the corner of your eye. Standing upright you saw Mr. Laufeyson walking towards you from the door to the backyard, a smirk playing at his lips. Your heart started beating quickly as you realised the position you were in, remembering his hungry stare from last week. You swam over to the side of the pool to meet him.

“Hi,” he smiled, looking down at you.

You bit your lip and innocently looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“I’m sorry to intrude.”

“No worries. Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Laufeyson?” you asked, noticing his eyes taking in your body under the water. He definitely knew you were naked. Your thighs clenched together at the thought.

“I was coming to see you about something that happened last week that had me… concerned. I thought I saw someone out on the balcony, late at night. Was that you?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, your heartbeat picking up to a mile a minute. “What day was this?”

“Last week Friday.” His face was serious as he strolled over to a pool chair, pulling it closer to the side and taking a seat.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think anyone was out there then.” The words came out a lot quicker than you’d meant. You were usually pretty good at lying but something in his voice made you want to tell him the truth, to please him.

He tsked. “I’ve seen you lie better than that. Try again darling.” He sounded bored as he reached for your pack of cigarettes on the side table. He raised an eyebrow in question as he drew out a cigarette. You nodded, nervously biting your lip as he lit it and crossed his legs, leisurely smoking while he stared you down.

“No words, little one?” he teased, smirking down at you. “Did you at least enjoy the show?”

You huffed- this was humiliating. How dare he? You found anger quickly overtaking your initial shock and embarrassment as you made your way to the pool stairs and got out. You raised an eyebrow at him and smiled when the smirk slid off his face at the sight of your naked, wet body. Two can play this game. Walking over to him you grabbed a towel off the chair and wrapped it around yourself.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to imply here,” you grabbed the cigarette from between his long, muscular fingers and took a long drag. “But I didn’t see you last Friday night. And I definitely didn’t see you fucking that blonde-” your eyes widened at your own confession.

He stood to his full height and stepped closer to you, looking down at you once more. You backed up a step, feeling the lounge chair behind you.

“Drop the towel,” he growled, the hungry look in his eyes fully directed at you this time.

“Listen-“ you started to explain yourself.

“Drop. The. Towel.” He enunciated each word with his crisp accent and perfect voice.

“I knew it- I knew you wanted to fuck me.” You smirked at him triumphantly as you took another drag.

“If I have to tell you again to take that off, you’re not gonna like me darling,” he threatened, stepping closer.

“Oh really?” You laughed, taunting him. “And what are you going to do, Mr. Laufeyson?” You blinked innocently at him, enjoying the way the muscles in his jaw clenched.

Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, firmly but not painfully as he brought his face inches from yours, your eyes locked.

“You fucking brat.” He roughly pulled the towel down, exposing your body to the warm air. He pinched the cigarette from your fingers, extinguishing it under his shoe on the concrete. “I’m going to have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

Before you could answer he spun you both around and sat on the lounge chair then pulled you over his lap, angling you so your top half rested on the chair, your hips over his. One hand firmly held your lower back in place, the other smoothed over the skin of your ass and you squirmed. His hand came down to spank you, hard. “First lesson- don’t fucking move until I tell you to.” You whined, your face burning.

His hand came down again in the same spot, causing you to hiss and grip the plastic of the chair in one hand and his thigh in the other. “Second lesson- always answer me.”

You were humiliated but you found yourself growing even more wet with each spank. First there was the pain, then a wave of pleasure that intensified when he smoothed his hand over the skin he’d hit.

He gave you another slap, “what did I just say?” He growled, his hand roughly gripping the skin this time.

“T-to always answer you.” Your voice was small as you stuttered, overwhelmed by the way he was making you feel.

“Good girl.” You'd felt a tiny swell of pride at that. “I’m going to spank you three more times. Count them for me.”

“Okay,” you nodded, worried if you didn’t answer he’d add more to the list. His hand came down on your other cheek, hard and fast.

“One,” you counted, taking a deep breath. Before you could forcibly relax your tense muscles his hand had struck your cheek once more, causing you to hiss.

Your finger tips were pressing into his thigh as you let out a breath, the sharp pain receding. “Two,” you licked your lips and tensed in anticipation of the third and final slap.

After a few seconds you relaxed then turned to catch his eye- he was darkly observing you with his jaw clenched. Suddenly he hit the skin once more, this time the hardest, causing you to cry out.

You composed yourself with a quick breath. “Three.”

“Well done, darling.” He was gently running over the sore skin with his large hands. You could feel his erection under you.

“I wish you could see how lovely you looked on my lap, taking your spanking so well.” He dipped his hand between your legs. You sucked in a breath when you felt his fingers brush along your wet slit causing you to writhe on his lap.

“My poor, little thing. You’re dripping,” his voice was pure sin as he brought his glistening fingers up to your face.

He shifted, his strong grip helping you off his lap so you stood before him on shaky legs. You bit your lip, face growing hot as suddenly became fascinated with your fingers, twisting them painfully.

He stood then, and brought his finger under your chin to guide your eyes to his. He wore a satisfied expression, a slight grin at his lips as he took in your naked form.

“Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson darling?” He asked, his eyes mocking yours.

You quickly nodded, feeling fully exposed in front of his fully clothed form.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go upstairs so I can fuck you?”

Your cheeks burnt as you nodded quickly again.

“Answer me darling,” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

A slow, filthy grin spread across his face. “Lead the way,” he motioned towards the stairs.

You bent to reach for your towel on the ground. “Ah, ah, no need for that darling.” His words stopped you. You shivered as you stood back up, another wave of heat pulsing through your core.

You tentatively walked up the steep stairs and he followed closely behind. You could feel his gaze on you with each step.

Once up on the patio you looked back at him, his eyes dark with hunger. You gave him a shy smile before leading him inside. You stopped- should you bring him to your bedroom?

Before you could finish your thought he slid up behind you, his hands coming to grip your waist. “Where shall I take you, darling?” He whispered in your ear, his breath making you shiver.

He let go of your waist to circle you, stopping before you. “Do you want me to ruin you on that god awful couch?” He looked over his shoulder to the gaudy floral couch Carla had ordered special from Italy. She wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t company sit on it in fear of stains.

You smiled at the idea of ruining the couch with Mr. Laufeyson, knowing Carla would lose her mind- even more so if she found out how it got there. “Yes please.”

He pulled you towards it then gently guided you to sit at the edge of it, angling you so you were in one corner. His hands splayed over the skin of your legs, gently pushing them apart. The feeling of the cool air of the house on your slit gave you goosebumps.

He kept his eyes locked with yours as he knelt between your legs before he turned to press a kiss to your thigh close to your knee. He then bit the skin there, earning a sharp inhale from you before he soothed it with his warm tongue.

“Tell me, darling. Did you touch yourself? Did you play with yourself as you watched me?” His velvety voice sent an involuntary shudder through you, his eyes capturing yours.

He nipped at your thigh with his teeth, marring the skin. You yelped then swallowed. “Yes! Yes, I did.”

“Good girl.” He moved to repeat his actions further up the inside of your thigh while he gently ran his fingers up and down your other thigh.

You were trembling while you watched him, each bite a little harder than the last as he got closer to your wet core. His eyes met yours once more then he blew a stream of cold air over your slit, causing you to gasp sharply. He smirked before letting his lips barely graze over your clit, your hips moving slightly before he brought his arm down over them to hold you in place.

He ever so gently pressed a kiss to your clit before gently running his tongue over the sensitive flesh, pulling a moan from you. You could feel your wetness dripping down onto the couch below as he continued to delicately tease you.

“You taste divine, darling. Better than I’d imagined.” You whined at his words- the idea of him alone, picturing what your cunt tasted like brought you to the edge of an orgasm.

He smiled wickedly up at you. “So close already? Poor thing.” Bringing one long finger to your slit he gathered some wetness before pushing it fully within you, forcing a loud moan through your lips.

“It’s okay darling, let go. Give into me. I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” he hummed against your clit before tenderly sucking on it. He bent his finger within you, hitting something deep that made you cry out. You quickly came, your release squirting around his finger and wetting the couch below.

He kept up his movements as you rode out your high. Once your breath returned to you he pulled away and removed his finger, licking his lips as he wiped your release off his chin.

“Third lesson- good girls always get to cum.” He winked at you with a grin before standing.

He leaned over you, caging you in on the couch before capturing your lips with his. You hummed at the taste of yourself on him, his tongue gliding against yours.

He straightened back up then pulled you up off the couch and guided you to face the other way. He led you so your knees were on the couch, your arms resting against the back of the upholstery. You heard the sound of a zipper before feeling the tip of his hard length slide against your folds. You instinctively arched your back at the feeling, pressing yourself up against him, causing him to groan.

“Such a greedy little brat,” he said, smoothing his hands over the skin of your ass. “You want me to fuck that pretty little cunt, hm?”

“Yes- yes please, Mr. Laufeyson. Please fuck me,” you begged, rubbing yourself on him once more.

With that he thrust into you, holding himself still once he was fully seated within you, giving you a chance to adjust. You’d gasped at the sensation- he was clearly well-endowed and you were thankful he gave you a moment. Willing your muscles to relax you looked back at him before grinding your hips against his.

His eyes were dark with lust, his jaw clenched in a way that made you involuntarily squeeze him as he started to move within you. You were panting as he set a pace, the angle of his thrusts hitting the same spot he’d found quickly before.

You’d turned back around and folded your forearms over the back of the couch, arching yourself against him even more. He growled and picked up his pace, his hand firmly gripping your hip. The angle had you moaning desperately, the feeling of him so deep within you making your fingers and toes numb.

“That’s it darling, take my cock within your needy little cunt. Fuck- I’ve wanted to ruin this tight little pussy for so long. I’ve wanted you for so long,” he rasped out between thrusts and your mind went blank, all you could respond with were desperate moans.

He stopped abruptly and pulled you up before sitting himself on the couch and pulling you over his lap so you were straddling him. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and your mouth went dry at the sight of the musculature under his pale skin. You slid your fingers under the fabric, gripping his firm shoulders as he positioned himself under you.

You moved your hips in a circle over him, enjoying the feel of the very tip of him swirling within you.

“You little tease,” he grinned darkly, running a hand through his hair. “Ride me, darling. Show me what you can do.”

Your cunt clenched at his words and his wicked smirk spread. You took the opportunity to bring yourself down to grind against him, wiping the smug look off his face.

You quickly set a pace as you rode him, his hands on your ass guiding your movements. You were panting as you continued your movements, the angle bringing you close to your finish.

“Are you going to cum, darling?” His voice vibrated through you, and you nodded.

“Yes- fuck, Mr. Laufeyson. You feel so good-“ he continued to guide your movements, moving his head closer to your breast. He brought his mouth around one of your nipples, gently sucking at the nub. You arched into him, moaning at the sensation.

His tongue ran against your skin in his mouth, bringing another moan from you before he sharply bit down on your nipple, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm. You moaned his name over and over as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. As you came back to yourself you felt him twitch within you, filling you as he reached his own finish.

You watched him as he came, mesmerised with his blissful expression, his long eyelashes touching defined cheekbones. His eyes fluttered back open and he gave you a smirk- god help you he was fucking gorgeous.

He gave you a chaste kiss before helping you up, the combined fluids from your finish trickling down your thigh. You were happy to see some hit the couch as you moved off him.

You strolled to the bathroom to clean yourself up and throw on a t-shirt and panties, passing a damp cloth to him once you returned. You pulled a cigarette from the pack you had on the kitchen counter, then headed to the balcony as you lit it up.

You were leaning on the balcony, watching the now dark waves when he joined you. You smiled at him, offering him your cigarette. He took a long drag as you leant on the balcony’s edge.

“So,” you trailed off, not sure what to say.

“That was fun,” he exhaled then smiled at you, his expression mischievous.

“Yeah,” you agreed, relief filling your chest. “I’d love to do it again.”

“Of course darling, we have all summer.” He came behind you, pulling you against his chest as he ducked his head so his lips were beside your ear. ”And you have quite a bit to learn.”

End Notes: Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

[muselexum]

Major Spoilers for Film Red including the ending. It’s just been on my mind for a few days and I want to talk about it.

The ending scene is just so tonally dissonant with everything else in the movie. I would be totally fine with Uta dying, but it seemed as if the writers couldn’t commit to hurting the audiences feelings by ending it on too sad of a note. The ending scene is the Red Hair pirates just silently standing around a casket, then it cuts to Luffy who stares at them before turning away.

The circumstances of her death are also so contrived as well. To put it simply, Uta has eaten poison mushrooms that take away her ability to sleep. Shanks has the antidote(!!!) but DOESN’T give it to her because she chooses to rather die waking everyone up. This is just such a bizarre choice, especially considering the rest of the movies themes and the lengths Shanks went to protect her.

Plus, HUH? Why can’t they administer the antidote first, then come back in like 2 hours and then wake everyone up when she’s feeling slightly better????

As for characterization, you have Shanks raise this girl since she was an infant. She is his daughter and their relationship was just mended after years of hurt. What parent would let their child die, especially when they have already displayed extreme suicidal tendencies and saviour complex. Not only that but she’s severely sleep deprived by that point. Do you know how delirious you can get without sleep? If I sleep for only two hours I wish to die too. One scene Shanks says “If you hurt my daughter prepare to die” to just allowing his daughter to die on his own watch when it by all means shouldn’t have been necessary given the circumstances set up. 

You either let her live, or commit to it if you kill her and don’t fuck up other characters like Shanks and Luffy who should have reacted in some way to her death. Her death is so ambiguous in the movie that it had to be confirmed in the booklet that comes at the theater. Maybe they didn’t want to upset the children audience? But if that’s the case why end it on such a bizarre note anyway? The ending scene is literally 1 cut to shanks and his crew, 1 cut to Luffy, then the ending title card. She dies like 1 minute before the end of the movie. Neither Shanks nor Luffy can give her a proper send off together because they aren’t allowed to talk to each other until they meet in canon.

Overall this is at least consistent with the other one piece movie villains who are killed off. I think Oda kills them to explain why such a threat wouldn’t exist in the canon world, especially since he also confirmed Uta is canon? So is Uta dead in canon? Who knows. The movie events themselves aren’t canon so maybe not, even though the flashbacks are.

It’s just so weird to have created this character that is so incredibly significant to both Shanks and Luffy and neither of them can react to her death at the end. If you don’t want a sad ending, then don’t write a sad ending? It’s just so weird. If you see the scene you’d understand what I mean by it being strange. They wrote her dying, but avoided the fact. 

In other words: Uta’s powers work by having her trap people into a dream world. It only works when she’s awake. She takes poison mushrooms that will keep her awake until she dies, trapping everyone in that dream world forever. She has a change of heart by the end. Shanks has an antidote that will make her sleep, but she needs to save everyone by waking them up “before it’s too late” and so she wants to stay awake to do that.

The plot hole here is that if she was just administered the antidote by Shanks and fell asleep, then everyone should have woken up because her devil fruit would have stopped working. This means Shanks chooses to allow his daughter to die despite having a solution to solve everything anyway.

I obviously might be missing something since I’m not working with a full length, subtitled movie version but this just seems like a stupid way to make a sad ending by her dying. To solve this, just remove the plot point of Shanks having an antidote.

They wanted to write her having a sad redemption where she chooses to die to save others, but the circumstances they’ve set up in the film make it a needless death on Shanks’ hands.

EDIT: Oda’s comments from the booklet

IN ONE PIECE VOLUME "4 BILLION", Oda said in the end of Uta Story: "She turns down Shanks’ medicine. It’s all too painful and she just wants to escape to the dream world. Song of angels that stop everyone’s rampage. Where the Wind Blows: A song from her childhood...Dying Uta."

^ DUMB AS SHIT. “PLEASE LET ME SUICIDE DAD.” “OKAY DAUGHTER”