#but they need their connections and chatter

[noisynaia]

𝑨 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑹𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒖𝒆

pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader 

word count: 3.0k 

note: Fluff. Drinking. Colleagues to lovers. Mutual pining. Written for the lovely @pedrostories Secret Santa event ♥︎ My gift is for @always-andromeda , I hope you like it! It was so lovely to get to write for this blog again, and so exciting to share my first fic in a year and my first ever Marcus story! Thank you so much for the prompts, I tried to mix them both together, but it ended up dividing a bit from that first plan and turn into something else ♥︎

(This is the first fic i've written in a year and english isn't my native langue, so apoligies for any possible mistakes ♥︎)

The air hangs thick with the scent of pine needles and something suspiciously like cheap eggnog. The office is decked out in holiday cheer. Tinsel glints off the overly-enthusiastic Christmas decorations strung across the office, a jarring contrast to the usually austere environment. Twinkling lights are adorning the walls, and a massive tree stands proudly in the corner, its ornaments shimmering softly under the warm glow. Laughter fills the air as colleagues mingle, while festive music is playing in the background. It is the annual holiday party at the precinct, and the atmosphere is filled with a sense of camaraderie and celebration. 

You are standing near the refreshment table, a glass of spiced wine in your hand, watching the cheerful chaos unfold before you. Your gaze drifts across the room, landing on Marcus, who is in the midst of animatedly chatting with a group of detectives, his smile infectious, and his laughter like music to your ears. You have harbored a crush on him since the day he started at the precinct, and tonight, with him looking so dashing under the twinkling lights, that crush feels more potent than ever. 

Just as you’re lost in your daydream of Marcus’s charming smile, the sound of a familiar voice cuts through the festive din. It’s Harold, the department’s oldest and most verbose agent, and he’s making a beeline for you. “Ah, there you are! I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the new policies coming in next year,” he begins, his voice booming over the festive music. His passion for regulations is palpable, and his eyes light up as he launches into a detailed explanation of compliance protocols, the words spilling out like a torrent as you nod politely.

You try to interject, to steer the conversation towards lighter topics, but Harold is in full flow, oblivious to your subtle attempts at diversion. He recounts every last detail, his hands animatedly gesturing, as you mentally calculate the number of holiday cookies you could have consumed instead of standing here. You definitely need another drink to endure this conversation. 

As Harold continues his monologue, you glance over at Marcus again, still engrossed in his chat with the detectives, the laughter radiating from their group like a beacon. A small pang of envy hits you; how easy it seems for him to connect with others, while you’re trapped in this policy discussion. But just then his head turns and your eyes lock across the room.   

Time seems to slow as you feel the warmth of his gaze wash over you, momentarily breaking through the haze of Harold’s relentless chatter. Marcus’s smile broadens, a genuine connection sparking between you like the twinkling lights around the room. He raises his glass in a playful toast, and for a heartbeat, it feels as if the chaotic buzz of the party fades away, leaving only the two of you in that shared moment. 

You lift your own glass in response, the spiced wine glinting in the soft light as you return his toast. The world around you blurs as you focus solely on Marcus, your heart racing with excitement and a hint of nervousness. His gaze is warm and inviting, making you feel as though you’re the only one in the room. 

You smile back at him, but not as broad as his. He seems to notice, raising a brow in a silent question. Just then, Harold’s voice breaks through the enchantment, his monologue picking up speed as he transitions to the next policy. You catch snippets about “streamlining processes” and “regulatory compliance,” but your thoughts are elsewhere. You can’t help but steal another glance at Marcus, who is still looking your way, seemingly unbothered by the raucous laughter surrounding him. 

You let out a little sigh, which Harold doesn’t seem to even register, as you try to focus enough on the conversation to hum along at the right times and ad and “oh, really,” at the appropriate time. But you can’t help but look over in the direction of Marcus again. You heal how your heart softly flutters in your chest as you watch him make his way through the crowd in your direction. 

“Hey there!” Marcus calls out, his voice cutting through the festive noise with a warmth that sends a thrill through you. He stops just in front of you, his gaze shifting from you to Harold and then back to you. a gentle smile lingering on his face.

“Hey,” you say back, your voice a mix of surprise and excitement, momentarily forgetting all about Harold’s policy monologue. You’re suddenly aware of how the spiced wine feels warm in your hand, and how the alcohol is warming you up from the inside. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Marcus asks, his tone light and polite as he glances at Harold, who immediately seems to deflate under the charming weight of Marcus’s presence.

“Oh, not at all!” Harold replies. “Just discussing the new compliance protocols for next year. Absolutely riveting stuff, I assure you.” 

“Oh, I can imagine. You must tell me about them after the holidays,” Marcus says, his smile is easy, and the way he leans casually against the table makes your heart skip a beat as he turns to you again. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you all night. I need to ask you about something for the report on the Sollery case.”

You can’t help but smile. There is no Sollery case, but you’re not about to correct him. Instead you play along, immensely grateful for Marcus’ graceful way of saving you from Harold’s relentless monologue. “Of course,” you reply, your heart racing as you revel in the attention. The warmth of the spiced wine seems to spread throughout your body, mingling with the butterflies flitting around in your stomach.

You say a polite goodbye to Harold before he can dive back into another detailed explanation of compliance, the relief washing over you as you follow Marcus to a quieter corner in the other end of the room. The festive music swells around you, but it feels like a distant hum compared to the electricity crackling between you and Marcus.

“So, what do you need to know about the ‘Sollery case’?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice, eager to maintain the playful banter. 

He chuckles softly, his brown eyes shining as he looks at you, a slight flush is dusting his cheeks, from the alcohol you assume. He looks adorable. 

“You looked like you needed a rescue,” he replies, his voice low and conspiratorial, “and I just couldn’t let you endure another second of Harold’s riveting lecture on compliance protocols. I mean, I love the guy, but sometimes it feels like listening to paint dry.”

You let out a genuine laugh, the sound buoyed by the atmosphere around you. “You have no idea how grateful I am. I was convinced I’d have to start counting the decorations on the tree just to stay awake.”

Marcus grins, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad I could save you. I can’t let our brightest officer fall asleep at the Christmas party. That would be a tragedy.” 

He nudges you playfully with his elbow, and you feel your heart race at the light touch.

“And uhm, speaking of saving,” he continues, his expression turning slightly more serious but still warm, the flush on his cheeks  darkening just the slightest. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over to my place after this? I have a bottle of whiskey that I think we could both use after the year we’ve had.”

Your breath catches for a moment, the invitation hanging in the air between you like the lighted ornaments strung above your heads. “Whiskey?” you ask, feigning nonchalance while your heart races with excitement. “What kind?”

“Only the best,” he replies, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I promise it’s not eggnog.”

You laugh, feeling the tension ease slightly. There’s something about the way he looks at you, something that makes you feel seen in a way that you haven’t before. “Well, I do like whiskey,” you say, your voice teasing. 

“Great,” he says, his smile broadening, and you can’t help but feel a swell of happiness at his invitation. This is more than just a drink; it feels like a chance to finally connect with him outside of work, away from the watchful eyes of colleagues.

You take a sip of your spiced wine, trying to calm the excitement bubbling within you. You stay at the party for a bit, chatting and laughing with your colleagues together with Marcus, the warmth of his presence enveloping you like a cozy blanket. After about an hour Marcus leans in a little. “Ready to get out of here?” 

You nod eagerly, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of leaving the crowded FBI office behind. “Absolutely,” you reply, your voice light with anticipation. The idea of spending time alone with Marcus makes your heart flutter, and you feel a rush of excitement as you both make your way towards the exit.

The cold december air hits you as you step outside, a stark contrast to the warmth of the office, but it��s refreshing. Marcus walks beside you, his presence comforting as you both navigate the snow-dusted sidewalk. The streetlights shimmer against the night sky. You make light conversation as you walk towards the metro station. 

The city is alive with holiday lights, casting a warm glow over the streets. You can’t help but steal glances at Marcus as you walk next to him, the way he moves with a casual confidence, his laughter still echoing in your ears. The anticipation of what the night holds has your heart racing, a mix of nerves and excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

As you approach the metro station, the atmosphere shifts slightly. The previous bustle of the office party has now faded  completely into the background of your mind, and the intimate setting with just you and Marcus now feels charged with a new energy. You both descend the steps to the platform, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the concrete walls.

“So,” Marcus begins, his tone light, “how are you spending your holiday season this year?”

You chuckle, leaning against the cool metal railing. “Alone,” you admit with a playful shrug, trying to keep the mood light. “Just me, some takeout, and a few too many holiday movies. The usual.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow, a hint of disbelief mixed with amusement playing on his lips. “Alone? What about family or friends?”

“I mean, I have family, but they’re several states away, and I’d rather not deal with the holiday chaos,” you reply, a hint of defensiveness slipping into your tone. “Plus, my couch and a good movie sound pretty appealing right now.”

“Fair enough,” he says, his expression softening. “I’m spending Christmas alone too this year—just me and a stack of books I’ve been meaning to tackle.” He chuckles, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “I guess we’re both in the same boat, huh?”

“You’re not going back to Texas over the break?”

“Nah, I decided to stay here this year. I love my family, and it would be nice to see them, but a lot happened back home before I transferred. Kind of left there heartbroken and I’m not sure I’m ready to go back just yet, even though I’m mostly over it,” he replies, glancing at you with a slightly embarrassed smile.

You nod in understanding, the weight of his words resonating with you. You open your mouth, you want to say something, even though you’re not even sure about what to say, but then the train arrives with a rush of wind and a clatter of metal on metal. You both step back, momentarily distracted by its arrival. As it slows to a halt, the doors slide open.

Marcus gestures for you to enter first, and you can’t help but notice the way he stands just a little closer than necessary, the warmth of his body radiating towards you. You step into the metro car and find a place to settle in, the metallic seats cool against your skin. Marcus sits beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

As the train starts moving, the rhythmic clattering of the tracks fills the silence, and you glance sideways at Marcus. He’s looking out the window, the lights reflecting in his eyes, and for a moment, you just take him in. There’s something undeniably comforting about being with him, an ease that feels almost electric.

“Is it your first time spending Christmas alone?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence, your voice soft. “It’s my first time, my first time spending the whole holiday alone…  I’m starting to worry it might be a bit lonely.”

He turns his gaze back to you, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, it is my first time, but it’s just a few days, right? I think it might be good though, to have some time to regroup. Plus,” he adds with a smirk, “I can’t wait to binge-watch whatever I want, I haven’t had time to watch a show in ages.”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up easily. “True! That’s a definite perk.”

“And, you know, if I’m lucky, I might even get to finish that book series I’ve been meaning to read,” he says, an excited, almost boyish, glint in his eyes.

“What series?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“It’s a fantasy series,” he replies, his enthusiasm infectious. “It’s about dragons and magic and all that good stuff. I know it sounds really nerdy, but it’s amazing!”

You can’t help but let out a little chuckle, hiding your mouth behind your glove covered hand. He really doesn’t have any idea about how adorable he is, and it warms your heart. “Of course, you’re a fantasy nerd,” you giggle, shaking your head gently.  

 Marcus feigns offense, his eyes widening in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that fantasy is a very legitimate genre! It’s all about world-building, character development, and epic battles. Plus, who wouldn’t want to ride a dragon?” He leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but lean in too, drawn by his enthusiasm.

“Okay, okay, you make a compelling argument,” you concede, laughter still dancing in your voice.

“Seriously, you should give it a try. I think you will like it actually.”

“I might just take you up on that,” you say, your heart racing with the idea of sharing something with him. “Maybe I’ll start it over the holidays,” you reply, smiling at him. “I could use some good escapism.”

He smiLes at you, but you don’t get to talk more about it. The train begins to slow as it approaches your stop, and Marcus shifts slightly, his arm brushing against yours again. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a sense of closeness that makes your heart flutter.

As the doors slide open, you both step out into the crisp night air. The walk to his place is short but filled with light-hearted banter and laughter.

Finally, you reach his townhouse. Unlocking the door, Marcus leads you inside, turning on the light of the hallway as he closes the door behind you. He takes your coat hanging it on the coat hanger while you take off your boots before showing you to the living room. The cozy setting, filled with soft light and comfy looking furniture, feels welcoming and familiar.

Marcus moves to the kitchen, and you take a moment to look around. The walls are lined with shelves filled with books, and a few framed pictures catch your eye—some of him with friends, others of family, and one of him as a kid with a goofy grin on his face.

“Make yourself at home,” he calls out from the other room, you can hear the clink of glasses.

You settle onto the plush couch, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you as you sink into the cushions. The warmth of the room envelops you, and you can’t help but smile softly as you take it all in. 

Moments later, he reappears with two glasses in hand, a bottle of whiskey perched under his arm. “I hope you like it neat,” he says, pouring a generous amount into each glass and handing one to you. “Cheers to a surprisingly delightful holiday evening.”

You clink your glass against his, the sound ringing with a sense of promise. “Cheers,” you echo, taking a sip. The rich, smooth flavor warms you from the inside out, and you savor the moment. “Thank you for having me, and thank you for saving me from Harold earlier.” 

Marcus chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. “Anytime. I’d take a night with you over compliance protocols any day,” he replies, leaning back against the couch, his glass resting comfortably in his hand.

“Ditto,” you smile in response. You watch him, the way his eyes light up when he talks, how he seems to genuinely enjoy your company. The atmosphere is relaxed, filled with the soft hum of distant holiday music coming from his speakers. The tension you felt earlier at the party has melted away, replaced by a sense of ease that envelops you both.

“You know…” Marcus’ expression changes as he leans forward to put his glass down on the coffee table. “I was thinking… Since you are spending the holiday alone, and I’m spending it alone, and you said you were scared that it might get lonely…” He takes a deep breath before continuing and you feel your heart fluttering in your chest as you realize where this is going. “Maybe... we could make it a little less lonely together?” His voice is soft yet hopeful, and you can see the sincerity in his brown eyes.

Your heart skips a beat at the suggestion. “That sounds nice.”

“It does?” 

“Yeah, it really does,” you respond, your voice steady despite the fluttering excitement beneath the surface. “I’d love to spend the holiday with you. It sounds… perfect, actually.”

A smile spreads across Marcus’s face, a mix of relief and joy that makes your heart swell. “Yeah, really perfect...”

Unbeknownst to the two of you, this would be the first of many, many holidays spent together.

[reiwanwan]

A warm place for goodbyes

Summary: Hazel Shelby thought she had left chaos behind when she moved to London, but an unexpected connection with Alfie Solomons challenges everything she thought she wanted

part 3

content warning: none

I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the soft fabric of my dress. It wasn’t anything extravagant—just a simple, dark green piece that hugged my figure—but I couldn’t help fussing over it. I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, only to pull it loose again a moment later.

“You look fine,” Ada’s voice came from the doorway, making me jump.

I turned to see her leaning against the frame, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me with a look I couldn’t quite read.

“Fine?” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “I was going for stunning.”

Ada smirked, stepping into the room. “You’re stunning, alright. That’s not the part I’m worried about.”

I sighed, brushing my hands over the dress again. “I know, Ada. You’ve made it painfully clear how you feel about this.”

She walked over and started fixing the loose strands of my hair, her fingers surprisingly gentle. “I’m just saying… be careful, Hazel. Alfie Solomons is charming, I’ll give him that. But charm can be dangerous.”

“I will,” I said softly, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “I promise.”

She stepped back, eyeing me one last time before shaking her head. “Alright. Go knock him dead. Just… not literally, yeah?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll do my best.”

From her upstairs window, Ada watched as I stepped outside, and I could feel her gaze staring down on me even as I walked down the steps. Alfie was waiting by the car, his coat draped over his broad shoulders. When he saw me, his expression softened in a way that made my stomach flip.

“Fuck me…you look lovely,” he said, his voice warm as he opened the car door for me. “Cmon in you go then”.

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He chuckled, closing the door behind me before getting in. “Right, off we go,” he told the driver.

“And where exactly are we going?” I asked, glancing at him.

“You’ll see,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Patience, love.”

The car ride wasn’t long, but my curiosity grew with every passing minute. When we finally arrived, Alfie stepped out first, offering me his hand as I climbed out.

“Alfie,” I breathed, taking in the grand chandeliers and elegant décor of the restaurant we were walking into. “You said this wasn’t going to be fancy.”

He smirked, his hand still on mine. “If you think this is fancy, love, you need to raise your standards.”

I laughed, shaking my head as we were led to our table. The evening passed comfortably, with Alfie’s sharp wit keeping me laughing and his stories holding my attention. For the first time in a long while, I felt like I could relax.

The slow music played as the chatter of many other people filled the place and at one point, I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hand. “So, Alfie, what is it that you actually do?”

He leaned back in his chair, his expression perfectly serious. “I make bread.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “You… make bread?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “At a bakery. Best in Camden.”

I narrowed my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. “You’re joking.”

“Am I?” he replied, deadpan. “Tell you what, come by tomorrow, and I’ll show you the place. If you’re free, that is.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll think about it.”

“And what about you?” he asked, shifting the conversation. “What is it you want to do, Hazel Shelby?”

The question caught me off guard. I hesitated before answering. “Well…I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.”

“A teacher,” he repeated, nodding thoughtfully. “That suits you. Smart, patient, good with people. You’d be brilliant at it.”

I felt warmth spread through my chest at his words. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said, his tone firm. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

The conversation between us was amazing. Although I slowly realised that Alfie was a chatterbox and often times he would change the topic and talk about something completely different from what we were initially talking about. Actually… scratch that, not often times, always. I had trouble catching up with what we’re talking about at the moment but either way, I just loved hearing his heavy cockney accent and his unnecessary use of curse words in his sentences.

I promise I was actually listening to him talking shit about tommy, the food being a bunch of expensive rubbish, and about the guy that made him mad last week or something like that.

The evening passed in a whirlwind of conversation and laughter, and before I knew it, Alfie was walking me to my door. The street was quiet, save for the soft hum of the occasional car in the distance.

“Here we are,” he said, his voice low as he offered me his hand to help me up the steps.

“Thank you,” I said softly, pausing at the door. My fingers lingered on the handle, but I didn’t open it right away. Instead, I turned back to face him.

“Goodnight, Alfie,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. On impulse, I leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, the roughness of his beard brushing against my skin.

Before I could pull away completely, he caught my wrist, his grip firm but gentle. “Oi,” he said, his voice soft but insistent. “C’mere.”

I blinked, my heart skipping a beat as he pulled me just a step closer. “What?” I asked, trying to stifle my giggles.

“A proper kiss, love,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine. “None of that yeah?.”

I hesitated for only a moment before leaning in again, this time meeting his lips with mine. The kiss was slow, patient, and warm in a way that made my chest tighten and left my head slightly spinning.

When we finally broke apart, his hand lingered at my waist for just a second longer than necessary. “Goodnight, Hazel,” he murmured, his voice rough but tender.

“Goodnight, Alfie,” I whispered, slipping inside and closing the door behind me.

I leaned against the door and tried to catch my breath and smiling so sheepishly to myself and giggled like a school girl.

“So how was it?”

I jumped, my head snapping up to see Ada standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips.

“You saw?” I asked, my cheeks flushing.

She raised an eyebrow. “The whole bloody thing. Couldn’t exactly miss it, could I? You were right there on the steps.” I could tell she was annoyed and slightly cringed out by my excitement.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Ada…”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Relax. I’m not going to give you a lecture. Just… be careful, alright?”

I nodded, meeting her gaze. “I will. I think I’ve heard you say that for the 10th time since the day I told you”

“Good,” she said, turning back toward the living room. “Because if he breaks your heart, I’ll have to shoot his bloody legs. And that’s a mess I’d rather avoid, you remember when we would play with dad’s pistol and shoot rats don’t ya? have I ever missed?” she asks and I scoffed and shake my head, “nope, no you never did Ada”. “Exactly” she says and goes into the other room to check on Karl.

I couldn’t help but laugh as I made my way upstairs, Ada’s words echoing in my mind. As I lay in bed that night, I replayed the kiss over and over again, a smile tugging at my lips.

@weepingdreammarvel

[silelda]

I do not begrudge my extroverted coworkers their need to talk.

I do not begrudge my extroverted coworkers their need to talk.

I do not begrudge my extroverted coworkers their need to talk.

I do not begrudge my extroverted coworkers their need to talk.

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

me, putting more symbolism into elias' story without even consciously realizing the Direct Story Connections:

[synthetic-rust]

What they don’t tell you about autism is that it feels like you’re simultaneously one step outside of reality yet two steps too far into it at all times

[agendratum]

cinematic parallels gifset happening!! tomorrow!! (maybe) (if i'm alive)

[rillette]

If Charlie Vicker were to come back into mainstream GL comics how would you want him to be characterized?

CHARLIE THE WORLDS BIGGEST CUNT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HORRIBLE NASTY JEALOUS BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i need him to suck so soso bad. torn between charlie better person redemption arc vs being alone at the fuck end of the universe makes u crazy insane. guy who's mad about being in the middle of nowhere forgotten by everyone but doesnt reach out to other people bc he wants them to come to him first, driving himself further and further into isolation from his peers. he reads into every normal conversation wayyy more than is healthy. dissecting every word or expression for imaginary contempt or insult. hes the twitter user that sees your simple sentence and comes up with a whole new one. HUGEEEEEE inferiority complex + massive guilt complex because he got his brother killed. trapped unwillingly in the role of space wile e coyote. top ten guys that should never be left alone with themselves. he needs external validation to survive but he doesn't trust it when he gets it. i think he would fucking mald over nobody remembering his stupid ass. i am so normal about him

[drifloonz]

didnt wanna ramble more in my newest post but like. The implications of steven having 4 charizards in doors open is so fucking confusing, and unironically i am glad nobody takes doors open for characterization bc fanon steven would be even more confusing and worse. If we took s!3v3n characterization from doors open every interpretation of fanon s!3v3n would be "I HATE YOU IM GUNNA KILL YOU!!! IM YELLING AND IM GUNNA KILL YOU!!! THE YEAR 2010! SCARY! DIEDIEDIEDIEDIE" ( <- hyperbolization but literally how he is in doors open just exaggerated Literally only a bit. ) instead of a creepy tall guy who lurks in the shadows or whatever.

Canon s!3v3n in doors open and strangled ( not strangled red hes just kind of creepy and silent there ) is like. The mental asylum pov video on tiktok. Which is really funny but not a good character(*&^

I am certain its just a "he has four bc they spell out one letter of MIKI in each of their names in order!" and its probably just for that but like. whyyyy does he have four of them.

Who gave you four charizards. Did he clone more. Did he get that insane. I dont want to seriously think abt lore implications of doors open other than the small details it gives abt stevens appearance and mikis moveset, because it is once again, Not Fucking written Well its just GRRR ill KILL YOU i HATE YOU IM GUNNA KILL YOU!!! so its not narratively interesting, especially from characterization standpoint for steven/s!3v3n and therefore i dont trust it but God.

Why does He have four of them. Did they split. The seven (aka four) miki souls ??? omega s!3v3n. This is going nowhere.

[the-chattering-tower]

Help I have a G5 from my Pure Progen Lineage Project sitting in my fodder pile that I forgot about and his colours are Not Bad and he'd make such a nice dusty

Also he's just cute in general

I am This Close to pulling him from my den and putting him on the AH despite the fact that I doubt he'd sell, bc I don't have the heart to fodder him

[delphi-shield]

I refer to claire as my girlfriend instead of my wife because i proposed to her and she said that was too fast for her and she's not ready for that kind of commitment yet so we're keeping it lowkey for now even though there's an ache in my belly every time she introduces me as her girlfriend that makes me writhe and chew myself open just to get the poison out.

yeah, we're pretty casual right now.

[idlenight]

How about Hollow Ground for the character bingo?

the way that i just found this ask ✨(im decently observant i swear!)

but by golly im still gonna do this now or my name isn't Idle 'normal about hollow ground' Night. ( i mean, legally it isn't but we can pretend for the bit).

BINGO BABY.

If I didn't already love Hollow Ground a normal amount (<- lying. loves hg an abnormal amount) from just witnessing him briefly in Retribution then you can imagine how absolutely normal (<- lying. i need to bite him like a chewtoy and rip him apart [affectionate]) I am feeling after playing the Revelation demo yesterday.

The ruthless Kingpin of Los Diablos? Who literally strings the entire city along? Who was a loving sibling? Who protects sidestep when they start having a panic attack in his mindscape even though step just invaded his mind?

I am Normal. I am Well Adjusted.

[chipistrate]

I needdddd to theorize on PQ4 specifically the ties to the MCI I'm gonna go fucking insane I might go replay PQ 1-3 and then rewatch PQ4 like a bajillion times I need to think of what this could mean cause with OMC being here and the Cassidy connections to the Princess (even if they aren't the same person that's still up in the air 2 me, there's still connections) and the graves and you needing to collect plushies of the OG animatronics and and and ujisdhfmvdcfhxnerjughvcxd

[queerwhohatesithere]

this has reminded me that i want a korean flag, it’s so pretty and i love the meaning behind it. apparently the creator’s name is gojung and it was in a magazine in the 1800’s. it’s beautiful

[acaciapines]

back on that owl house daemon au editing grind (ive been busy + writing other stuff so after editing one i sorta. stopped for a month or two lol) and. oh god i knew 2 was gonna be bad but its BAD yall. like not content-wise a lot of the actual writing + plot is totally fine and will stay but. i wrote this before i got into my grove of episode, inbetween, episode (ie 1 -> 1.5 -> 2) SO. THAT MEANS. THIS ENTIRE 30K THING IS GETTING SPLIT INTO 1.5 AND 2.....

and obvi i'll have to write a LOT bc the parts going into 1.5 and 2 are spread across the entire fic :) so uh. um. this is gonna be fun.

[bunnymajo]

I see art of Surge & Kit treating each other with a smidge of affection and I go feral. It keeps me fed for days.

[spookykestrel]

I hope when I wake up 12 hours from now I have polls 😌