#but they seem to have forgotten they can also y'know. WRITE to me.

[bri-does-art]

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[pearlymel]

Closer

Pairings: Veritas Ratio x fem!reader

Synopsis: kissing your boyfriend for the first time turned to a makeout session. (Suggestive towards the end)

Wc: 1.5k

⊰⊹ฺnotes: idk what possessed me to write this but i think abt kissing ratio stupid atleast 69 times a day.

Amidst the hushed comfortable space and flickering candles in the living room, Veritas Ratio rests serenely on the sofa with his legs crossed as he holds a book he occupies himself with, reading it silently and carefully, focusing on each word with absolute preoccupation before he feels the empty space next to him sink with a familiar figure.

He hums in acknowledgement at your presence, although his eyes still not prying away from the book.

But then Veritas feels like his brain went short circuit for a brief second when he felt you leaning ever so closely to him on the couch. Your hands drawing closer and closer until your fingers slowly start intertwining with his, and he accepts it. Naturally. It's just holding hands with his partner.

But then you move closer to him, thighs already making contact, and how he is certain you want something from him. So he diverts his eyes away from the book, giving you a quick glance of his eyebrow raised and you just smile innocently in return. He blinks twice before returning back to the book.

Maybe you just wanted his attention as usual, perhaps tell him about your day or--Oh, but then your other unoccupied hand takes his chin with your thumb and index, turning his head back towards your attention.

He's surprised, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowing and before he could ask, you beat him to it.

"Y'know we've been dating for quite a while. Right, Veritas?" You mutter his name oh so softly that when it reaches his ears, his heart begins beating a tad bit faster than usual.

You start caressing his cheek, your thumb brushing over the apples of his cheek before sliding it down to his lower lip while you study his tensed expression that slowly starts relaxing.

Ratio's eyes flutter shut as you caress his cheek, his mouth trembles underneath the gentle, languid touch of your fingers against his lips, betraying a subtle shiver of desire he can scarcely suppress.

Finally opening his eyes to meet yours, a touch of vulnerability is faintly detectable in his gaze, a display of uncertainty that he hurriedly conceals behind a half-lidded gaze.

"Yes..." Ratio responds quietly. "...We have."

"And you know how much i like you," you carry on, eyes no longer focused on his gaze but instead watching at the way his lips part slightly.

Ratio's gaze darkens as you fixate on his lips, his breath hitching slightly in response.

"I am aware," he murmured quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly as he attempted to maintain his composed façade.

You can't find anything more to say because you are so focused on the shape of his lips, studying every breath he takes that only makes your lips curl.

Your eyes find his again, leaning in further, your keen eyes searching for his consent.

Ratio's usual self-assuredness returns, a sly flicker in his eyes as he gives a slight nod, consenting to your silent question.

You tilt your head, eyes focusing on his lips before closing them when your lips press together for the first time, testing the waters of the kiss, trying to hesitantly feel your lips together.

There is a flicker of surprise in his eyes, his composure momentarily faltering as he leans into the kiss. Ratio's lips mold against yours, hesitant and testing at first, a slow and languid movement as he explores the feeling of your lips on his.

You squeeze his hand nervously that was still interlaced with yours. After all, it was you who tried initiating the kiss on a random evening.

A soft exhale escapes his lips against yours, the book long forgotten as it drops from his hand and to the ground with a thid thay both of you don't seem to care about. His now free hand moves to cup your jaw with gentleness, yet the touch also firm.

You feel encouraged at the touch, it makes your shoulders relax, allowing yourself to melt into this first shared kiss.

He senses the change in your body, the tension leaving your frame and being replaced by a gentle surrender. Emboldened by this, he deepens the kiss, his hand on your jaw moving up to hold the back of your neck, firm yet gentle. Guiding you even closer to him.

You were caught off guard by the sudden eagerness. Your blood was quick to rush through your face, reaching to your ears before both of your part with a deep breath.

You give him slightly wide eyes, his half-lidded eyes dropping back to your lips. And just when you thought the kiss has ended, he brings his hand back to your jaw, his thumb now imitating your previous actions, brushing against your lips before parting them gently.

You pray that he doesn't notice just how red your cheeks have gotten.

Veritas was quick to take advantage of your parted lips, his tongue delving into your mouth with deliberate intent, his hand slithering it's way back to the back of your neck.

The air around you thickens with a charge of electricity, his breathing becoming more ragged as the kiss heats up, a low, guttural sound emanates from deep in his throat, his fingers curling into your hair, their grip firm though not painful. Veritas's usual composure is discarded, replaced by a passionate fervour to which you welcomed, arms wrapping around his shoulders for further closeness between them.

He responds to your action with a low groan, his hand that was holding yours now snaking around your waist, the kiss deepens further, his tongue sliding against yours in a sensual dance, his body practically trembling with raw and unbridled hunger. His lips moving more urgently against yours to which a soft gasp escapes from you when he confidently pulls you to straddle his lap, your lips pulling away from his with flushed cheeks.

"I didn't mean--we can go slow--" you stammer, but you are met with eyes dark, full of desire as he gently maneuvers you into his lap, a shiver of excitement coursing through him at your proximity. He tightens his grip on your waist, holding you firmly in place, his muscles taut with tension as he fights to restrain himself.

"How come we've never kissed before? Is it that you're perhaps nervous because of me?" You manage to tease. Chuckling quietly as you looked down at him, admiring the way he was panting softly. His cheeks flush slightly, embarrassed that his earlier vulnerability is now made known.

"I was not nervous," your beloved protests, though the slight shakiness in his voice betrays him, though your hands now caresse his cheeks before leaning in to pepper soft pecks on his face.

"I was just... careful. I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"Would you like to kiss me again?"

He snaps his eyes back at yours in response, his eyes darkening with a primal want as he gazes up at you.

"I would be an idiot to say no," he replies, his voice low and tinged with hunger. "I want to kiss you more. I want to kiss you until you can hardly breathe. I want the feel of you, the taste of you. I want you." His fingers grip your thighs, their grip tight as he struggles to restrain himself, while your breath is caught in your throat when you sense that hunger in the tone of his voice. One unfamiliar but you can get used to.

You instantly crash your lips eagerly against his this time, and he responds to the kiss with a ferocity that borders on desperation, his lips moving against yours with a frenzied and unrestrained desire as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip in a silent command for more.

And you respond by slowly grinding your hips further into his lap, a guttural groan rumbling in his chest at the slow grind, and it was enough for him to break the kiss momentarily, gasping for breath as he looks up at you with dark and dilated pupils.

"Do you have any idea," Ratio grits out between clenched teeth, his voice deep and strained, "what you're doing to me right now?"

Before you could even get the chance to answer, his lips find the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth grazing the soft skin and sucking on the flesh there as he attempts to regain his composure. A soft moan emits from your throat as your hips find a slow pace of grinding against his clothed cock that you could've sworn you felt it throb and twitch under the fabrics of his pants before he firmly and tightly grasped your hips to halt your any other sorts of movements.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He gives you a sharp look and your lips curl upwards in return.

"Who said i wanted to stop, doctor?"

(doctor, you're huge-!)

[maybcnksgf]

I love love love your writting. can you do an enemies to lovers Sirius Black one shot? idk like make it hella dramatic, like fighting in the rain n then they kiss, or like a truth or dare n they have to kiss or sum. again love u sm have a good day stay healthy

— amortentia ; sirius black x fem!hufflepuff!reader 𐙚

☆

summary: one thing about you is that you could not stand sirius black. one thing about sirius black is that he could not stand you.

warnings: swearing, drinking, james is an arse in this sorry :,(

a/n: hi my lovely, thank you so so much for the compliment & the request! i'm so flattered that u love my writing. i love YOU and i hope this did ur idea justice! <3 i also decided to make the reader a hufflepuff in this cause i thought it'd be a cute lil asset, hope u don't mind!

check out my masterlist & send in any requests <3

One thing about you is that you could not stand Sirius Black.

Everybody seemed to love him. Not just the students, but teachers too; even Professor McGonagall couldn't hide her smirk behind her hand when she often gave him a good scolding.

Really, the only one of the four marauders you could stand was Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew was okay, though he was far too much of a tag-a-long for your liking, and James Potter was practically Sirius' right hand man. Remus was your Potions partner and he was, admittedly, as much of a sweetheart as a marauder could get, often helping you study and walking you back to your common room when he caught you asleep in the library during his prefect rounds (which only happened once... or maybe twice).

"They're not so bad," he promised you one Potions class, watching for your reaction with a sheepish grin as Sirius and James messed with Snape's potion at the back of the room. "They're actually really nice once you, y'know, get to know them."

"Nice?" you questioned him, scoffing out a laugh and grimacing at the sound of Sirius' laughter bellowing through the classroom. "Need I remind you what Sirius did to me in third year?"

"I know, I know! But he's changed, Y/N, honestly! He's more... mature?"

Even Remus couldn't quite believe the words that had just left his mouth as you both watched the boy in question actually spit into Severus' cauldron. "Oh yeah, Rem, so mature."

One thing about Sirius Black is that he could not stand you.

He'd always believed what he did to you in your third year was harmless, something that would be forgotten within a month or two and not to be dwelled on. He knew you harboured a secret little crush on him at the time, so he figured... why not?

He really did mean it when he asked you out, though. Sure, he didn't know you too well; you were really just another Hufflepuff that he shared some classes with. But Remus seemed to like you, so he figured it could at least be a good way to make a new friend if nothing else.

"Hey."

You looked up from your book on Herbology at the rude interruption, and of all the people you were expecting to be standing before you, you were surprised at the sight of Sirius Black. You cleared your throat awkwardly, willing the immediate blush to disappear from your cheeks. "Hi?"

It came out as more of a question than you intended it to, but he grinned at you nonetheless and your face felt warm, was it warm in there?

You did a quick scan of the library in search of any of his smug little friends, but you saw no one. Just him.

He didn't wait for an invitation before pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down, still grinning ear to ear. "You free Saturday?"

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows in surprise, your yellow tie suddenly feeling far too restrictive around your neck as you somehow managed to splutter out a "yes". Sirius pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back (pink and white roses) and offered them to you with the same lopsided grin. "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks? Two o'clock?"

The only problem was... James had gotten into his head.

That same afternoon, Sirius entered his dorm with an air of confidence, not dissimilar to usual, but he had a different sort of spring in his step.

Remus and James were sat on their respective beds. The former looked up at him over his book and raised a single eyebrow, clearly noticing something different about his entrance, though James didn't look up from the Quidditch magazine he was reading and paid no mind.

"Afternoon, boys," he announced, his voice dripping with glee as he crashed down onto his bed.

"Afternoon, Pads," Remus responded, a curious tone to his voice as he kept his eyebrow raised. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Scored a date," he said, far too matter-of-factly for the grin he was still sporting. "With Y/N."

Remus' book fell shut on the ground with a thud, jaw dropped open and lost for words as James finally cocked an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"Y/N L/N. Y'know, the Hufflepuff girl in our Potions class?"

"And Herbology, and Charms," Remus finally composed himself, now staring at Sirius with a pointed look, well aware of his friend's... reputation. "Look, Pads. I know she likes you, but you have to be careful about this. Y/N is my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt her."

James suddenly barked out a laugh, finally dropping his magazine as he engaged in the conversation. "Be careful? There's nothing to be careful about, Moony. As if Sirius is actually going to go on a date with a Hufflepuff. Don't embarrass yourself like that, Padfoot."

"Don't be such a dick, Prongs," Remus spat, tossing a cushion at his mate and hitting him square in the head. "She's my friend."

Sirius said nothing.

So the next Saturday rolled around and you arrived at the Three Broomsticks at five minutes to two. Though, five minutes to two became two o'clock, which became two thirty, which became three, which soon became four.

And Sirius never showed.

The next day at breakfast, you'd found him, slapped him across the face, threw the bouquet of pink and white roses back at him and left without a word.

Sirius Black did not like to be publicly humiliated. He decided there and then that he wanted nothing else to do with you.

It wasn't until your sixth year rolled around that Remus realised things were changing.

Gryffindor had just won their first match of the season against Slytherin and, as usual, there was a huge party in their common room.

You weren't much of a partier, usually preferring to stay in the comfort of your dorm with a book that you and Remus were bound to discuss within the next few days. Of course, you'd attend the parties when Hufflepuff won, but you were never one to join in with the other houses.

Although he knew this, Remus Lupin had a plan.

He was beginning to grow sick of the constant complaining on both sides of his friends. It was always "Come on, Moony, she's so bloody weird" or "Look at him, Remus, how on earth can you stand to be friends with him?" and, quite frankly, he'd had enough.

He loved the marauders, of course; they were his best friends, his brothers. But he also loved you, and though he knew that Sirius' young and dumb actions in third year hurt you, he really wasn't lying when he said he'd changed.

Yes, Sirius would call you weird or strange or annoying to his friends, but Remus knew he was deflecting. He saw the way something in his eyes changed when he watched you enter Platform 9 3/4 on the first day of your fifth year. He saw the way he'd been secretly pining over you for the last year.

Likewise, he knew the same went for you too. No matter how badly he hurt you, your feelings for Sirius never really left. He saw the way your gaze lingered on his friend for just a little bit too long. He knew the way you shook your head and muttered "what a dick" under your breath every time you looked away was a cover up.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing by the time Remus convinced you to join him. It had taken a lot of begging and a fair few promises to buy you more books before you agreed, and you found yourself awkwardly at Remus' side as you entered through the portrait hole.

It wasn't long until James had found his friend and immediately tugged him away. Remus tried to fight it but found him impossible, shooting you an apologetic smile before you lost sight of him. You made a mental note to demand another promise of more books when you found him again.

You accepted defeat and made your way over to the drinks table, in need of at least something before you inevitably called it a night early and headed back to the comfort of your own common room.

Smoothing the fabric of your dress down, you suddenly felt very out of place in the yellow and white floral fabric, but an unfortunately familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts before you got too caught up in them.

"L/N?"

You immediately snapped your head up and fought the urge to roll your eyes at the source of the voice. "Black."

Sirius seemed surprised at your presence, his eyebrows raised and an interesting sort of smirk gracing his features as he looked down at you. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Remus invited me," you kept your answers short, trying to slow your rapidly beating heart as you reached for the firewhiskey and flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Is that a crime?"

"No." His smirk only grew, seemingly amused at your snap back as he kept his eyes on you. "Not a crime at all, love."

He knew what he was doing. How dare he try and flirt with you now after what he did before.

"Don't call me that," your response came immediately and you felt yourself trying to fight the shiver that was so desperate to creep down your spine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy and somebody to stay far away from."

That was an hour ago now, and since then you had already downed way too many cups of firewhiskey for your body to handle. You were so set on trying to avoid Sirius that you tried to make yourself forget he was even there at all.

An hour became two and Sirius ended up finding you back at the drinks table again, barely even holding yourself up as you tried to pour yourself a cup of whatever alcohol was nearest to you. Sirius, though definitely not sober, was painfully so compared to you, and he watched in slight amusement as you managed to get more of the liquid on your dress than in the cup.

"You alright over there?" His voice snapped you out of your pitiful concentration and in turn made you jump, even more of the liquid spilling down you when you did.

"Hello, Sirius," you responded, turning to look at him with a big smile and almost stumbling into his chest, causing him to wrap his arms around you as he caught you.

In your clouded state of mind, you couldn't for the life of you remember that you're supposed to hate this guy, and instead only found memories of the longing gazes when you racked your mind. You'd regret this tomorrow; you most certainly could not handle your drink.

"Hello, Y/N," Sirius raised his eyebrows at your state as he answered you, still amused as he copied your tone of voice. "You look like you've had enough."

You gasped as if he had just suggested you were You-Know-Who himself. "I have not!"

Despite your best efforts, your words came out slurred and Sirius knew Remus would not be happy that you're left out here alone in this state. He cast a quick glance around the common room but couldn't find a single glimpse of his mate in the crowd, and he let out a quiet curse under his breath.

I'm supposed to hate her, he thought to himself, letting his eyes fall back on your smiling face. She embarrassed you Sirius, shoved a bouquet of bloody roses at you in front of the entire Great Hall to see. But why did she have to grow up and be so bloody pretty?

"Let's get you back to your common room, yeah?" He suggested, gently taking the cup from you and placing it back down on the table.

He admittedly felt bad for you. Remus was nowhere to be found and he couldn't just let you get all the way back to the Hufflepuff common room by yourself in this state. You're just being a decent guy, Sirius, he told himself again. You'd do this for anyone.

You either didn't seem to hear him or his words didn't register in your brain, because when he placed a hand on the small of your back to carefully lead you through the crowd and back through the portrait hole, you only spoke with a grin.

"Are we going on a walk?"

"Yeah, love. We're going on a walk." Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction, but deep down he felt a little tense. With the state you were in, anyone could've taken advantage of you, and he was glad he found you before anyone else did. Maybe it was the little bit of firewhiskey still running through his veins, but Merlin, Black, the fuck is wrong with you tonight?

The walk back to the Hufflepuff common room was slow and quiet, and Sirius ended up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and taking most of your weight against him to stop your constant stumbling.

Once you'd reached the portrait, you muttered the password and allowed Sirius to half-carry you through, still not completely aware of what was going on, and the pair of you only stopped when you reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

He'd never been in this part of the castle before, and he couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips when he noticed it smelt like a lovely mixture of flowers and freshly baked cookies.

You turned to face him once you reached the stairs and something suddenly clicked in your drunken mind.

"Sirius? Is that you?!"

He chuckled quietly again and nodded his head, raising his eyebrows with an amusement smile. "Yeah, it's me. You're back in your common room now, yeah?"

You took a moment to process his words through the thick fog clouding your brain and nodded your head, still smiling too before looking down at your dress. Your smile fell into a sad frown. "Oh no, it's ruined! It was so pretty!"

The boy in front of you took notice at the alcohol stains on your dress and shrugged his shoulders. "It's still pretty. I mean, you look pretty. I mean-"

If you did notice him stumbling over his words and the blush that rose to his warm cheeks, you didn't show it (though Sirius doubted very much that you did notice in your state). You simply smiled again, turning away from Sirius without another word as you all but skipped up the stairs.

It wasn't until he neared the portrait hall to leave again that he heard your quiet little drunken giggle. "Sirius Black thinks I'm pretty."

That was months ago now and you and Sirius hadn't even uttered a word to each other about that night.

Actually, if it was possible, you started avoiding each other more.

You were finally starting to admit to yourself that you had feelings for Sirius Black, but that scared you. How could you fall for him again after he stood you up in your third year? He left you there for two hours, your single butterbeer looking pathetic in front of you as Madame Rosmerta shot you sympathetic smiles from behind the counter every now and again.

You hadn't been in there since.

Little did you know, Sirius was avoiding you for exactly the same reason.

Okay, perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit that he liked you. James was a dick that day three years ago and, although Sirius knew the both of them had matured since then, he couldn't help but worry his best friend just wouldn't approve. He knew deep down that James, especially now older, would just want him to be happy, but he was scared.

Remus had been so angry with him when he stood you up that he was also scared to face him again. Would he even believe him or force him to stay away from you for your own wellbeing?

The rain was pelting down heavily in early February as you trudged into Professor Slughorn's Potions class. The castle at this time of year was sickening, with pink and red paper hearts hovering over your heads in the hallways and fluttering around the tables in the Great Hall as Valentine's Day drew closer.

Even your professors had taken on the Valentine's theme, and you couldn't help but groan as you gathered around Slughorn's desk with the other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"Amortentia," the professor announced, and a group of Gryffindors standing behind you giggled to themselves. "The most powerful love potion in the world. If brewed correctly, the scent will be different to everyone according to what attracts them."

James Potter scoffed on the other side of the crowd and whispered something in Sirius' ear. The latter laughed loudly, pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

"Mr Black?" Slughorn spoke through the boy's laughter, keeping his calm demeanour. "Perhaps, since you find this so amusing, you'd like to demonstrate for us?"

"Don't mind if I do, sir," Sirius just laughed again and made his way through the group, going to stand by the professor with a cocky smirk. "I bet it's just a load of old bollocks anyway."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out, Mr Black. Tell us what you smell, won't you?"

You watched as Sirius leant over the cauldron and you took a moment to take in his appearance. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned a quarter of the way, his red and gold tie hanging loosely around his neck, and though you willed it not to, your heart couldn't help but flutter slightly.

At that moment, you realised that, if Slughorn was right, Sirius was about to reveal the scent of the one he loved.

"Smells like..." his voice pulled you from your thoughts as he took in the scent of the potion, "vanilla, fresh cookies, and..."

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly flicked up to meet yours, an unreadable expression on his face as he muttered quietly.

"And, uh, roses."

Whether it was the intensity of Sirius' gaze or the fact that everybody had turn round to look at you that made you storm out of the Potions classroom, you couldn't be sure.

Not even the heaviness of the rain could stop you as you tried to get as far away from the castle as possible. What the fuck just happened?

"Y/N?"

You shook your head, refusing to turn around as you continued walking. "Leave me alone, Sirius."

"Y/N, please-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Merlin's beard, L/N, would you stop and listen to me for one bloody second!"

He'd caught up to you now, throwing himself in front of you to stop you on your course. You'd almost crashed into his chest, and Sirius suddenly remembered how you'd done the same thing at that party four months ago.

"Sirius, please-" you begged quietly, trying to push past him.

You didn't get very far as he gently grabbed your elbow and brought you back in front of him. "No, Y/N, we're going to talk. For the first time, we're going to bloody talk."

"About what, Black? What could you possibly want to talk to me about? You haven't wanted to talk to me for the last three years, why start now?!"

He couldn't help it as his voice raised slightly, and you watched him grab at his dripping wet hair in frustration. "I just openly admitted my feelings for you in front of the entire fuckin' class and you won't even talk to me!"

"Because it's bullshit, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped at this, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head slightly. "What the bloody hell do you mean?"

"This is just another one of your plans to humiliate me, just like you did three years ago. I'm not falling for it this time."

Successfully this time, you pushed past him, shoulders brushing together as you did. He tried to grab your wrist to pull you back but you shook it out of his grip and continued walking away from him again.

"Y/N-"

"No."

"Y/N, come on-"

"I said no, Sirius."

"Y/N, I fucking love you!"

His words halted you in place. Neither of you spoke for a moment, and the only sounds you could hear was the violent pattering of the rain and his heavy breathing.

You shook your head slowly, not even turning around to face him. "You can't. You can't do this shit to me, Sirius."

"Why not? It's true!"

His words dripped with exasperation. He seemed desperate now, his body moving back in front of you again and Godric, were those just raindrops on your face or had you been crying too?

"Sirius, I can't- I can't let myself be hurt by you again," your voice cracked slightly as you refused to look at him, feeling your throat clog pathetically. "I liked you. I really bloody liked you and when you stood me up I was so humiliated."

Something in his face softened at your words, and his voice grew quieter. "Y/N, I didn't know-"

"I haven't been on a single date since, Sirius. I can't let anyone even attempt to get close to me like that because every time they do I think they're just gonna stand me up anyway, because that's what Sirius Black did. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to fall in love with you when-"

But suddenly all words were forgotten as his lips were on yours.

Sirius' hands were now on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He tasted faintly of cigarettes and some chocolate that was no doubt stolen from Remus, and it took a moment to process what was happening. But you kissed him back.

Godric, did you kiss him back.

It was a few moments later when you pulled away, his forehead finding place against yours. Neither of you spoke for a moment and your eyes took their time to flutter open, only to find him already looking at you.

"You love me, you said it yourself. Give me a chance," his voice came as a whisper, his breath fanning against your mouth as his eyes searched your features desperately.

You nodded your head breathlessly, your hands sliding up around his shoulders as you gave him a pathetically pointed look. "You pull that third year shit ever again and you're dead."

"I swear. Merlin, I swear."

You laughed quietly and Sirius broke out into a wide smile. The silence that took over you both was comfortable, the rain providing a settling background noise despite the cold that chilled your bones

"For the record, I would have smelled you too."

[scoutswritingcorner]

I love Rosie and Alastor, Love'em. i was wondering if you could write a Rosie x Alastor x Reader, y'know a throuple that eats and gossips together, stays together. Also, love the horroresque spin you've been doing, can you add a smidge of that?

The Chase

RadioRose x GN!Reader

(Alastor x GN!Reader x Rosie)

TW: Has elements of horror! Alastor being Alastor and chasing Reader around the place. Talks about cannibalism, anxiety and paranoia that comes with being chased. 

A/N: IT BECOMES WHOLESOME I SWEAR! Also a big thank you to my lovely @kurosstuff for helping me get this idea going!! Also Alastor's dialog will be in bold.

Your day had started like any other day, wake up, get ready and go do what you needed to do for the day. But something felt off about the whole day like you were forgetting something in the back of your mind. Either way you continued on with your day trying to remember what you had forgotten ignoring how the hair on the back of your neck started to stand. 

Something was wrong. 

After some time you went around looking for Alastor, he promised he’d come along with you to see Rosie. You grumbled as you walked into the foyer, “Husk? Have you seen Alastor anywhere?” You asked, watching as Husk shook his head and continued to clean a glass, then it hit you as you watched a familiar shadow disappear out of sight. He was upset but about what? You quickly tried to follow the sneaky shadow but failed as it disappear down the ominous dark hallway. As you walked down the hallway, which seemed to go on forever, it dawned on you that the figure at the end of the hallway was none other than the man you had come to love and cherish. But it felt wrong- no no he felt wrong. His smile was way too wide and his eyes were unmoving as he stared at you. 

You needed to run.

Turning on your heel, you sprinted down the hallway passing by Husk and Angel at the bar and reaching the front doors of the hotel. His footsteps where getting closer, why did he walk so fucking fast? You took a glance back over your shoulder seeing he had already made it to the end of the hallway as you swung the door open and ran out of the hotel. You had no idea where to go so you just kept running, dodging cars and random demons on the street as you duck and weave through the nastiest allies you could find. Looking back over your shoulder every once in a while to only see him still calmly chasing you. 

You looked back in front of you narrowly dodging a demon who stepped in front of you, which made you fall to the ground. The demon cursed you out as you scrambled to get up and continued to run despite your legs begging you to stop or slow down. You looked around before diving into a random shop for a moment to check out the damage done as you caught your breath. You carefully rolled up your pants leg to see a bruise forming on your leg as it was bleeding. Fuck you scraped it up badly, your hands shakily grabbed a handful of napkins and cleaned up the blood as best as you could, you’d have to ask Rosie to help clean you up later.

Taking a deep breath you rolled your pants leg back down as you moved to stand up to your full height but stopped feeling your back hit what seemed like a wall. You prayed to Lucifer that it was just some random demon standing way too close for your liking and not him, carefully you reach your hand behind you to feel the fabric of a familiar coat that made your stomach sink and panic rise up in your chest, you turn your head to see his ruby red eyes staring back into your with a hint of softness in them. Slowly backing away from him watching as his eyes followed every step towards the other entrance on the side of the shop itself, his neck cracking as he tilted his head. 

He was giving you another head start. 

Without a second thought you took it, rushing out of the door and pushing demons out of your way as you ran further down the street. As he slowly followed behind you, his shadow easily kept up with you guiding you closer towards your ‘haven’. He had led you towards Cannibal Town and towards Rosie. Now, no cannibal would dare harm a single hair on your head unless they had wanted a death wish from him and to be cast out by Rosie herself, that is another slow and painful death all together. You ran past cannibals, who either nodded or smiled at you. You tried your best to do so back, you really did but when you're being chased by your lovely boyfriend it’s quite different.  You quickly ran into Rosie’s boutique, your heart pounding into your chest as you tried to shake off how terrified you were.

Coming to a stop near the counter, you felt fingers grip your chin lifting your head up as your eyes met with Rosie’s her usual grin gone- replaced with a worried smile. “Oh Dear, you look absolutely distraught.” You cooed bringing you closer as you tried to look behind you, Alastor had to be closing in on you now but yet your head stayed still in her grasp. Her thumb pressed against your bottom lip as you finally caught your breath, “Alastor..” You huffed out making her click her tongue before she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

The door chimed making you freeze up as you heard the familiar sound of his humming. Speak of the Devil. He swiftly closed the gap between you and him as he leaned down placing his chin on your shoulder. “Now now, Alastor. What have I talked about chasing them around the city?” Rosie chided him watching as his grin widened, before he had placed a gentle kiss upon your cheek. “I’m sorry, Dear. They just looked so adorable trying to get away from me~” He hummed out watching as you slowly relaxed, “Almost like they were good enough to eat.” His voice was missing the normal radio effect it always had and was replaced with his deep southern drawl that made your skin crawl in the best way possible.

 His teeth grazing against your cheek, reminding you that he could tear you limb to limb if he wanted. Rosie smiled, tilting your head up once more to capture your lips into a soft kiss. “I must agree with you on that~” She growled out against your lips making you softly whimper. “You can’t tell me you don’t love the hunt, Dearest.” He watched as Rosie leaned back to fix your shirt that had been messed up during the rush here, the radio effect returning to his voice as your lips were smeared with her black lipstick.

He snapped his fingers as a chair appeared behind you, “Sit sit, let me see that leg of yours.” He crouched down as you sat in the chair, Rosie quickly rushing off to go find the first aid kit. “It’s not that bad, Al..I’m fine.” At that he only waved his hand at your concern and carefully helped you get your pants leg up. As soon as Rosie got back with the medical supplies, Alastor had swiftly cleaned up the cut on your leg before wrapping it up. You gently cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips, making his ears pop up as he stared wide eyed at you before they flicked happily and his grin grew wider. His tail was surely wagging.

The two most feared Overlords were wrapped around your finger and they wouldn't have it any other way~

[wwaheoh]

"Running Into Them at the Mall", Cunning Hares x gn!Reader, SFW, Fluff

a/n: can you tell i'm even worse at writing happy things?

At the mall, you were perusing through some movie tapes, action, comedy, horror… nothing that you felt was good enough for the Cunning Hares Weekly Movie Night. Usually you’d go to the video store on Sixth Street, Random Play, to find movies, but since you’d heard about them having to make a new account and helping Wise save Belle from the Hollow, you didn’t want to also put pressure on them to get more movies when their main income was basically gone for the time being.

Sifting through the remainder of the ‘New Release’ row, a familiar voice rang out from behind you.

Nicole ///

“Hey! Looking for a movie?” You could hear the smile in her voice. Looking back, Nicole got close, in her usual getup, hair a soft pink, basically pressing against you as she looked at the movie you had been reading the description of. “Ooh~ cheating on Random Play huh?” She spoke with a playful, teasing tone, slyly wrapping her hand around yours to get a better look at the movie you were checking out “No! Just heard about everything and don’t want to impose. I think we've watched everything there ten fold.”

“Mm, and you didn’t want to come with me to the mall?” “You got your nails done, they’d take longer to be finished than it would to check out all the movies in this whole store!” She looks at you with a deadpan expression, “Hey, perfection comes with time (and money).”

After picking out a movie, you rented the tape out for the week, before heading to the food court to grab some food before home. You realize that she had basically gotten you to buy her free lunch for the day before heading back to the base…

Billy ///

“Yo!” An artificial voice of Billy spoke behind you, nearly spooking your soul out of you. For such a loud metal-bodied guy, he was surprisingly quiet. “Whatcha looking for?” He peaked over your shoulder, “Ahh, mm, never thought you’d like this sorta movie? It ain’t Starlight Knights: The Movie but whatever, c’mon! There’s an arcade here, heard they got God•Finger, gotta get my name onto the top of the leaderboard!”

Giggling at his antics you agreed, but you reminded him that you had to pay before leaving. The movie you got wasn’t particularly your kind of movie, more dramatic and less action-y explosion-y type.

He got Number One on the Leaderboard, with you landing at Number Three.

Anby ///

Turns out, Anby was also shopping at the mall, having accidentally taken the shopping list you made- that you’d forgotten at the base.

“Hello.” The usual monotone voice had a happy tone to it, something hard to hear had you not been as close to her as you were. Turning from the movie you’d been reading the description of, you waved with a smile. “Hey Anby! Wanted to try a different spot to find a movie.” She nodded, crouching next to you to read the text on the movie cover you were holding. “This doesn’t seem to be the type of movie you’re usually interested in.”

“Yeah, been just browsing for now… wait. Why are you here? Don’t you pick next week?” “Huh? The shopping list I picked up said I was to find a movie for this week.”

You looked at the bag she held in her hand. You looked at the bag you had resting by your side. You looked at her cute face, soft white hair framing it like a picture.

“That was my shopping list.” You broke the news to her.

“Oh.”

“That was $40.”

“Nicole’s going to blow a lid.”

“Yeah…”

The two of you went through the extensive inventory of movies available in the shop, choosing one the two of you believed Nicole would like. Maybe this would save you two from Nicole’s wrath.

Nekomiya ///

a/n: i didn't forget her this time!

“Ooh? Looking for a movie?” You nearly jumped out of your skin. The sneakiness of a street cat- er, catgirl, was not to be underestimated. “What’re ya thinking?”

“Hey Nekomiya, just browsing. Nothing’s really catching my eye.” “Well, y'know what they say! You can’t think on an empty stomach, meow!” You stared at her with a deadpan expression. “Did you come here all the way just for some free lunch?”

“Aha… no! (Maybe).” You sighed, but understood. Commissions had been low recently, on the account of Nicole- and by extension the whole of the Cunning Hares, working to aid the citizens in the lawsuit against that corrupt construction company. Awful business that.

“Alright, c’mon. I’ll go check out, then let’s get some fish in that belly!” “Hey! Not all of us want fish!” “Then what do you want?” ”Mackerel…” “That’s fish.”

Bringing the video tape to the front, you paid before making your way over to the food court with Nekomiya.

[qqueenofhades]

Your tags on the Dreamling/Good Omens cross over have me frothing at the mouth and I just need you to know that if you were to write that “Crowley stumbles into the New Inn” fic, I would be highly supportive of your life choices

The place isn't otherwise busy. It's edging into the lull period of late afternoon, when the day drinkers have shuffled out and the evening drinkers aren't quite off work, when there are only a few tourists taking snaps for the 'gram and the bartenders are out back for a cigarette break by the bins. Hob is sitting at his usual table, confronted with a pile of papers, a brewing catastrophe about the autumn schedule that for some reason he is expected to sort out, three passive-aggressive emails from Philippa about the prospect of him becoming Head of School next year (not on your fucking immortal life, mate) and other mundane academic crises, when the door flies open and a bloke at the end of his rope staggers in.

Thing is, Hob knows this particular bloke, at least by casual sight. He's been in from time to time, has a drink, stares at the wall, looks moody, and goes out again, either to a vintage Bentley filled with houseplants or just the streets of Poplar. Hob has made friendly conversation with him a time or two, knows that his name is Anthony Crowley and he lives in Soho, and he has a husband/boyfriend/life partner of some description who often drives him bonkers (join the club? Though the Stranger isn't even really that). But from the look on Anthony Crowley's face, as much as can be discerned from beneath his ever-present black sunglasses (not really a fashion item one otherwise needs in London), this is a five-alarm fire, and Hob gets up in some concern. "Hey. Mate. Everything -- ?"

Crowley stumbles past him without answering, which is probably only what Hob deserves. He reaches the bar, and since the bartenders are still on fag break and nobody else seems around to do it, Hob scuttles around the back. "Get you something?"

"Beer. Whiskey. Drink. I don't care." Anthony digs in his wallet and flings the first assortment of bills he can find at Hob, which is far more than it costs for a drink even in this terminally overpriced city. "Make it strong. Want to forget my own fucking name."

"Right. Got it." Hob only worked the bar when the New Inn was first opened and they were still hiring staff, but he hasn't forgotten. He selects a Scottish whiskey, neat, and pours it into the bottom of a tumbler, sliding it across the bar. Anthony throws it back without even seeming to breathe and shoves the glass in search of another, and Hob frowns. "Oy. Take it easy."

Crowley mutters something about that being the last thing he intends to do, thanks, and Hob's curiosity, the one thing that has often propelled him through the centuries, gets the better of him. "Not my place," he says cautiously. "But is everything, y'know? All right at home? Your, uh, partner, is he -- "

The effect of this utterance is not dissimilar to waving a red flag in front of a bull. Crowley rears back, looks for a moment like he's going to bolt, and is only prevented by Hob strategically shoving the refilled whisky glass into his hand. He tosses it down the hatch without turning a hair, wipes his mouth raggedly with the back of his hand, and with that, and no further prompting, launches into an absolutely nutty jeremiad. Something about Heaven and Hell, something about Aziraphale (that's his partner's name, yes) being a stubborn angelic idiot who's going to get himself killed, something about people named Gabriel (also an angel?) and Beelzebub (also a demon -- wait, demon?) running off together and he just thought -- he thought -- like a bloody fool he thought they could -- but no. Nooooooooo.

"Er," Hob says at the end, blinking hard. "Sorry, I don't quite follow."

"Course you don't." Crowley heaves a heavy sigh. "Even though you're not an ordinary human, I suppose it's just too...." He searches for a word, slurs a little on the end (maybe that whisky, of which he has just chugged the third glass, is having an effect on him after all), and enunciates with bitter, drunk precision. "Ineffable."

"Wait. What?"

"You're Robert Gadling." Crowley tips his head like an owl, trying to size Hob up in his progressively more lubricated state, and his dark glasses slide to the end of his nose, revealing lucent golden eyes beneath. "The special one. The immortal one. Right?"

Hob opens his mouth. Hob shuts his mouth. He realizes vaguely that it's quite possible Crowley has not, in fact, been talking in convoluted celestial metaphors the whole time. "How did you...?"

"I know your boyfriend," Crowley snaps. "Bit bloody full of himself too, isn't he? He and Az -- Azz-- Aziraphale probably sit around having secret societies for technology-hating, stuck-up, idiotic, holier-than-thou, utter total fucking prigs who can't use their words and constantly deny their feelings, eh?"

"My boyf -- " All at once, Hob feels as if a grand piano has been dropped on his head from a great height, like something out of an old cartoon. Yes, things with the Stranger are going well-if-you-squint, ever since their last meeting here: the idiot actually turned up, he apologized, he smiled, they had a long conversation, there were definite sparks. Considering the last, er, six hundred years or so of dismal precedent, that's a low bar, but still. "Afraid," Hob says at last, "he and I -- well, we aren't exactly like that, but -- "

Crowley keeps staring at him like he desperately wants Hob to sit him down and give him a clinic in how to get with the fussy, standoffish, excessively rules-bound immortal being he has been, evidently, also bloody pining after for Christ only knows how long. "Why not?"

"Ah." Good question. Hob isn't sure. "It's complicated."

"Complicated." Crowley stares moodily at the mirrored bar. "Sure. Yeah. Six thousand bloody years of complicated."

"Did you say six thousand -- ?"

"Yeah." Crowley holds out the glass again. "More."

Hob's mouth is still open. He's going to say something, but he doesn't know what. Six thousand years? God's wounds. He and the Stranger, at their piddly six hundred, are practically fucking married.

(He gets Anthony Crowley another drink, on the house. Can't help but feel that the poor bastard deserves it.)

[that1nkyone]

For the send a character ask game: Sans

First impression One of the Skeletons from this Skeleton Game that I've just started hearing about. He seems chill.

Impression now I really don't think anyone anticipated how much of a cultural staple this dude became, least of all Toby Fox. It took me a while to go from my fond characterisation, to 'holy shit this guy's everywhere and I've forgotten what he's Actually Like' back to fond characterisation. We all love a chill guy with Knowing undertones. Everyone's mischaracterised the hell out of him, though, myself included. He is 90 percent Just Some Dude who is really likeable, silly, deceptively intuitive, and easy to project on. The other ten percent? Well, we can speculate.

Favorite moment There's a lot. If you do Shyren's battle concert, he appears out of nowhere and hands out tickets mid-fight. Also, the "my brother'd really like to see a human... so, y'know, it'd really help me out... if you kept pretending to be one."

Idea for a story hey what if he turned into a werewolf dragon thing except he's a gaster blaster and it's symbolically a manifestation of his trauma and anxiety and he learns to overcome it with the help of his friends and family and gets to shoot lasers at his problems and it takes me four years to write. ... in all seriousness, if I ever wrote more Undertale Sans Fanfic, I wouldn't mind doing a small oneshot of what comes After Spectrum.

Unpopular opinion I know folks see him as the Secret Depression character, and while I think that holds some water, I see him a very hopeful character, too. He makes do with what he has, enjoys doing shenanigans, and is tuned in to the world enough to have routines, keep making friends, and make others laugh. That can be interpreted in a few ways, but I don't think he's on the Brink of giving up on everything, either.

Favorite relationship I semi-ship him with Toriel and Grillby, but not to a huge extent. I prefer his friendships with Frisk, any interaction with Undyne is fun, and of course him hyping up Papyrus wherever he goes.

Favorite headcanon That he was once taller than Papyrus - when Papyrus was like, three.

[starseneyes]

Chenford REWIND- Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 4 Ep 12

The Knock AKA "Who's Dating Who, Again?"

This one's been requested a few times, and it seemed like the PERFECT one to help me come down from the labor that was S2E10/11/12. Plus, it has one of the first scenes of Chenford I ever encountered on Twitter that left me thinking, "Okay, they're right. I need to know about this 'Chenford' thing."

SPOILER ALERT: Standard operating procedure for these Metas (if you're new) is to warn you that there will be spoilers. I try to write these as though I'm watching for the first time without forethought (so that newbies can read through without fear), but I'm gonna spoil ALLLL of this delicious episode.

All that out of the way? Everyone clear on the rules? Awesome, because I'm ready to dive in.

"I hate beach calls. Getting this close to the water without being able to dive in is torture."

Hey! I "dive in" to each Meta. So that kinda made me warm and fuzzy inside.

"Not for me." "There's no surprise, there. Hating one of nature's greatest gifts is totally on-brand for you." "I don't hate the beach. I'm just not a fan of the ocean."

I. Am. Horrified! All this time I've been mis-remembering that Tim hated sand, but it's the ocean he hates. I feel like a terrible fan! Tim, can you ever forgive me for getting it wrong?

Oh, wait, he's fictional. I'm good. But I hope y'all can forgive me. Gee wiz, Rachel, get it together!

"You know, psychologically speaking, fear of the water equates to a fear of not being in complete control of your environment. Again, on-brand. Uh, you know, also, good luck dating a lifeguard."

Lucy is teasing him, and I love it. Look, we are in an era where Tim and Lucy have some feelings stirring that they are not ready to deal with. So, throwing jabs and jokes at one another feels safe, but outsiders are looking at this thinking, "Geez, these two need to stop talking and start kissing."

"Did you hear her say the hottest?"

Tim, dear, you don't need your wife to validate your hotness when your placeholder girlfriend calls it out. Like, I know you care about Lucy and what she thinks of you, but you shouldn't care if she notices you're hot when you're dating another chick who is literally five feet away from you.

Just sayin'. If you're looking for Lucy to call you "hot" maybe you should, y'know, be dating Lucy. Just sayin'.

*giggle* "What's that look?" "Nothing. What?" "You wanted to strangle that guy last week. Now you're all sweet on him?" "'Sweet on him'? What, did, did we suddenly just get dropped in the 1950's? What?"

It should be said that all it took was a look. Tim knew from one look that Lucy had an attraction to this guy. It took one look. And Tim's none-too-happy about it. But he can't say that and he wouldn't acknowledge it.

Especially with the biggest mistake of his life hovering behind him. Tim turns to face her, but as he does, he steps over alongside Lucy. Because, at the end of the day, Lucy is who he wants by his side.

Is he fully aware of it, yet? No. Tim's a champion at repressing thoughts and emotions. But, subconsciously, he shifts closer to Lucy, even as he turns to face Ashley.

"Hey, do you have plans tonight?"

Watch how Lucy presses her lips together and turns away, finding some way to occupy herself so she doesn't have to listen to this.

"I'll have to think about it." "What's there to think about?"

She can't understand why Tim isn't jumping at the chance to spend the night in the sand eating experimental food, and that just goes to show that she doesn't know the man at all.

His wife has to step in to help.

"Uh, the control freak in him doesn't like to try new things. So..."

Tim is so annoyed, he turns to face his wife. Like, he turns away from his girlfriend to face Lucy.

"I'm not a control freak."

Tim, have you forgotten who you are? You orchestrate Tim Tests that kept Lucy under your thumb as a Rookie. You like to do the same thing every weekend, if you can help it. Maintaining control of your environment is completely your brand (or "on-brand" as Lucy would say).

Lucy cocks her head to the side in a silent, "Really?"

"I would be happy to go to your dinner thing."

Wrong move, Bradford. Spiting your wife by going to something supremely uncomfortable with the Baywatch Bitch is not going to go well for you.

"It's Ash."

Yeah, that relationship's gonna be "ash" soon enough. Trust me, this isn't sustainable. You can't spend every day with the girl of your dreams and every night with a person who doesn't even know you and pressures you into doing what she wants.

"I was thinking of asking Byron and his girlfriend-"

Tim isn't into that. He doesn't like Byron. We can see in one glance that he doesn't want to be even more uncomfortable at this thing.

His eyes turn to the woman right beside him—Lucy. Because, let's be real, we're at a point where Tim would love to share a dinner outside of work with Lucy.

Watch the wheels turn as he realizes he could have a buffer against this horrible night.

"You know what, Lucy's been pining after that place all day. Maybe we ask her."

Ashley doesn't know that Lucy's right in front of him. But Lucy's thrilled. And this is the epitome of their "Grumpy/Sunshine" relationship because while Lucy's beaming in front of him and holding her hands in prayer position, Tim's glaring at her and trying to get her to calm down with a wave of his hand.

"Cool. Does she have a date to bring?" "Hey Sanford. You got plans tonight?" "What are you doing?"

Picking an awful boyfriend for you because he's too afraid to pick himself. Look, Chris and Lucy started out butting heads, and we can argue that so did Tim and Lucy. Starting points for relationships can happen in any combination of scenarios. But the trajectory is what matters.

Baywatch Bimbo doesn't know Tim at all, and I don't have high hopes for this dude.

Also, can I just say that whenever Tim and Lucy say, "What are you doing" to one another, the other is usually up to no good or trying to do the best thing. Trust me. You'll see.

"Lucy needs a date to a fancy dinner." "It'll be fun."

With Chris gone, Lucy gives him a look. Reminds me a little of the first time Tim met Caleb and how embarrassed she was by him. Like, "what the hell, man?!"

"What? Don't be such a control freak."

Look. At. Tim's. SMILE. Because he's purposefully needling at her. It's part of their rhythm and language. And at this point in the show, it's safe. He's not ready to acknowledge that there might be something else there besides friendship.

And Lucy glares (as she should) at her husband.

"I told a food friend I was coming here and they flipped."

I once made the mistake of bringing food to the beach on a windy day. My twin sons' first birthday weekend we went to Cape Charles armed with two smash cakes and good attitudes. It ended with sandy buttercream and a stranger helping bathe our kids in the ocean water.

Some people may love eating at the beach, but I'm not a fan.

"I'm sorry, but who puts a restaurant on the beach? I mean, you're just asking for sand in your food. I don't get it."

Tim! Mi amigo!! But this is a case where Lucy is "used to you" and the others aren't, necessarily. Tim's going to call it like he sees it, sometimes, and he doesn't care what people think of him.

But, he needs to care a little because his girlfriend is right there and she is super excited about... sandy food.

"Was any of that English?" "Let me translate. All you need to know is that pancake is made of mushroom, which I know is not your favorite, so I'll just-" "Oh, no, yeah, take it."

Did you two, just, like, totally forget who your dates are here? Tim. Lucy. That is married behavior. Forget dating. Y'all've skipped it and gone straight to marriage.

Lucy scooped the pancake off his plate.

Ashley's eyes follow the fucking pancake because she's never seen Lucy and Tim in the wild, before, and holy shit she just took the food off his plate, and he didn't care. In fact, he invited her to do it.

Ashley has never been so mad at a pancake in her life. Be mad, Budget Barbie. You're the one who made him come here.

"... once on vacation I did have curry goat." "Was his name Gerald?" "God, shut up! *laughing* Don't." "It's a great story." "It's nothing." "No, it's something."

You know that couple that tells tag-team stories at the table? That's Tim and Lucy right now. My husband and I do it, and when we had my cousin and his wife over for dinner a few months back, we learned they do it, too.

And Tim's "It's a great story" isn't subtitled (probably because of how quickly it's said), but I love that detail. He wants to tell the story with Lucy. It's their story that they're sharing together.

And the clueless idiots still don't realize they're already married.

"Okay, we had a 2-11 at a petting zoo." "All the animals got lose."

Tim's the rambling husband who is so excited to share, he's forgotten everyone at the table doesn't speak the same language. And Lucy's the one translating. Because Lucy speaks Tim. It's not just the cop-code, but just the Tim-code.

She knows the meaning behind the words, and like a good and patient wife, she's not making him feel bad for speaking in a manner that's clear for him. She's simply providing context to the others on the outside.

Because, no matter how physically close Chris and Ashley get to Tim and Lucy, there is only one Tim for Lucy and one Lucy for Tim.

"So, we nab our suspect. We get him back to the Shop and that's where we find-" "Gerald the Goat. He is so cute." "And he's sitting in Lucy's seat." "Because I forgot that I had rolled down the-the window. You know, who knew goats could jump?"

I love her looking back to him on this. Like, "right, honey?" And have we ever heard them speak like this? No, no we haven't. Because in this moment Tim and Lucy have both completely forgotten themselves and are just having fun together.

They don't realize they've stepped outside of the paradigm of the evening—acting the couple instead of dating the people across from them.

Also, mad respect to Melissa O'Neil for actually rolling the window with her hand. Kids today have no clue, but it looks like she remembers! It was a tiny detail that made me smile.

"She tries to talk him out of the Shop, but it's a goat, right? So she spends 5 minutes making goat noises at this thing." "Yes, he called me 'goat whisperer' for all of last February."

Awww. Her first pet name from him. Come on, if Isabel could dub him "Eagle Eye" and it turn into a pet name, I can definitely see this being their first, even if they didn't realize it.

Also, can we please appreciate that some hapless suspect witnessed this whole ordeal?

Like, there was someone in lockup saying, "man, my cops must've been high because one of them was making goat noises the whole time".

And. Look. At. Tim's. Smile. He beaming. All of him is alight, engaged in this conversation with the love of his life. He just doesn't know it, yet.

"It was great." "Darn thing wouldn't move! So, you know, we finally had to call Animal Control." "Right?"

Look. At. Them. The framing of this is so perfect. We're on the inside with Tim and Lucy, who are looking at one another with pure joy. And on the outside, looking in, are Chris and Ashley.

Tim and Lucy are smiling and I bet Ashley's never seen him smile this big with her. That's because it's not for you, Beach Girl. Step off, now, before you break our boy's heart.

And we end on Ashley's face. Because we don't know Chris well enough to hate him (trust me, Rachel from the Future knows we will), but Ashley's realizing there's a kink in her "Enslave Tim Bradford" plan.

She's met a guy with a nice house, a steady job, a strong moral compass, and a heapful of loyalty. It's like a diamond in the rough if you're talking LA dating. And she likes the idea of this life—but not necessarily with Tim.

He's a project for her. She wants to mold him into the right man because the rest of the package is so appealing. But, honey, that'll never work.

Tim is growing and changing, sure, but that's the result of years of learning to bend. And I'm so horrified you think you can break him to get what you want.

"Well, people don't like the idea of experimenting on the dead for emotional reasons, but it's an important tool in the medical field." "Yeah, I'm not arguing that. All I'm saying is turning people into cyborgs is how the world is going to end."

Look. At. Their. BODY LANGUAGE. Tim and Lucy are turned towards one another, their eyes locked on each other. It's as though Chris and Ashley don't even exist.

"So, then I guess you haven't volunteered to be an organ donor when you die."

This is like the child at the table trying to enter the adult conversation. Famously, when I was 4-years-old, I was frustrated to be left out of the adult conversation. I set my elbows on the table very determinedly and said, "So, what do you think about peas?"

Ashley's giving off those same vibes.

"Tim? No."

Because his wife knows him best. Like, Lucy doesn't even give Tim the room to answer. It's not that she's cutting him off, but a husband and wife know one another so well, sometimes, it just flows.

"He wants to be cremated and spread over Dodger Field." "I was joking when I said that. My ashes would screw up the pH level of the grass." "I can't believe you actually called and asked." "I like the Dodgers."

Third wheel energy, my man. Third wheel.

Look, this whole date has been a massive disaster... for Chris and Ashley. For Chenford, it was actually a fun time. And for us viewers, it was kinda validating. We don't get to see every second Tim and Lucy are together, so knowing that they can speak so easily and volley off of one another so naturally in a different setting? Pure magic.

"Anything in these videos that can lead us to where he's hiding?" "Not that I've seen." "Well, let's keep looking."

The staging's been really interesting, because Tim is standing over Lucy, in a position of authority. But here, he chooses to sit alongside her at the table. He's joining her in the effort. Much as Tim protests their partnership, it's there.

And the inclusive language, too. It's beautiful. Tim is acting like they are a unit, here, and I really love it.

When Angela comes into the room, Tim has turned his body to face Lucy and the laptop. And it's eerily reminiscent of the night before over dinner with their separate dates.

In the morgue hallway, Lucy is the first one to spot the blood on the floor, and Tim's gaze follows hers. I love that touch. Yes, Tim is Senior Officer, but Lucy's damn good at what she does. And Tim knows it.

This next sequence is really beautiful to watch, just the way that Tim and Lucy move in sync. They don't need to check in with one another, too much. They don't have to worry if the other is doing the right thing. They're united in this effort. They both know this dance very well, and they're great dance partners.

"It's him. He's got hostages."

Tim gently pushes Lucy where he needs her, and it reminds me of the gentle pressure of a lead when you're dancing ballroom. One of my instructors said I was a great follow, and I swear it's the only time in my life where I excelled as a follower.

He's not shoving her. He's leading her. And she trusts his guide to go where he needs her for their next move.

Also, can we please applaud Tim Bradford for that genius move with the body cam? Way to use what you have to get the job done!

"So, what's our game plan?"

Look, we're far past Tim being her TO and her being his Rookie. But, I don't think we're past these two teaching one another lessons. That's going to be a life-long thing, methinks.

And, look, that plan looks like a "Tim" plan to me (he does like to come at things from a different angle), but I'm cool if it was Lucy, too. They both think creatively, and I think that's part of their appeal to one another.

"Have to be honest, I wasn't really feeling last night... hanging with Ashley and Tim." "I am so sorry. Tim and I spend so much time together on the job, we have a shorthand."

Lucy Chen. He didn't tell you why he wasn't vibing. He just said he wasn't vibing. But you already knew you were having way too much fun with your husband last night.

And now that Tim's conveniently opened the "Chris" door for you, you're going to keep walking through. Because Tim's not an option, right? Might as well have some fun, right?

"... and then you spent the whole night talking to Lucy. It didn't feel good."

Goooooodddd. Let that hate grow inside you so you leave our boy alone. What? I can dream, right? This is only going to end in tears for one of them, and I'd rather it be Asinine Ashley than our boy Tim.

"Life can't just be about watching the Rams game on the couch, or talking about the job with your partner." "She is not my partner, okay? I am her Sergeant. And, that's not the point."

He is so caught up in trying to keep himself separated from Lucy that he's explaining away his feelings and setting up road blocks in front of his girlfriend. Because as long as there are obstacles, Tim can keep himself from thinking of Lucy as... Lucy.

This beautiful, bright ball of sunshine that fell into his world, warming his chilled skin with her radiance, piercing the darkness of his thoughts with her rays of light.

It was a close call at that dinner, and he already knew he needed to apologize when he next saw Ashley.

But the walls that separate Tim and Lucy are thinning—so he has to cling to his mental roadblocks to keep himself from falling through and running to her.

This is the era of Tim and Lucy running from one another. Not directly, of course, but as a way of avoiding their feelings. Because at that dinner they were downright married. And it was fun. And it was nice. But he's dating the Blonde Bimbo and she's going to Pinks with Cockblock Chris.

Someday I have hope these two'll get it together. In the meantime... we enjoy the ride.

As always, thank you so much for reading! This one came together quicker than anticipated.

And thank you to those who have messaged to check on me and my blasted back. I have a long list of things wrong with my body. Whenever I orient a new doctor, I welcome them to the freak show.

I still live a beautiful life. I love my treadmill, my stationary bike, and way too many Jillian Michaels DVDs I've horded over the years. I can bike ride and roller skate and trampoline. But I'm always in pain. I can't remember the last day of my adult life that I wasn't in pain.

This back thing hasn't happened since before my twins were born (they're 8, for reference) and is a result of life circumstances that will pass.

Today was my first day all week of not being on a heating pad half the day, and I only took pain pills once, which is good. Progress. Moving forward. Getting better.

Life isn't simple or easy for any of us. We're all up against something, whether it's physical, emotional, spiritual, or psychological. Or some combination of the aforementioned.

The point is, I'm thankful. I can be bitter and angry about the body I've been given, but this body carried three babies. This body has gone amazing places. This body is still moving and shaking and doing.

And maybe my stomach's not as tight as it once was, and I have deep scarring on my tailbone from surgeries, and I have to adapt my exercises constantly... but I'm alive. I'm here. And I'm going to make the most of every moment I'm given.

One breath at a time, loves. That's the only way through.

[havocskies]

hi u can do vance hopper x shy male reader who loves reading horror books and drawing gore horror stuff

THIEF | VANCE HOPPER X MALE READER

ofc i can !! i love this sm actually omg, thank you for requesting !!! as a shy horror nerd and someone who loves drawing this will be so easy to write i think

also i know requests are getting done very slowly it's bc i'm trying to work on all of them n most of them are fics 😭 i have stuff goin on irl too </33 also this is not proofread unfortunately 🫶

TWs: none

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"What are you drawing?"

As a particularly familiar voice greets your ears you look up, your attention stolen away from your sketchbook. It was your boyfriend who was currently hanging out with you. At the moment he seemed to be watching you draw, looming over your shoulder. In any other circumstance this would likely seem intimidating but he was your boyfriend no matter how scary he accidentally was sometimes.

"A killer from this one new horror movie I saw - Texas Chainsaw Massacre I think? It's pretty cool. I'm drawing Nubbins, the weird hitchhiker dude." You explain, the tips of your mouth being pulled into a careful smile. You didn't often talk this much about your drawings but you knew Vance was genuinely curious, even if he had no idea what you were drawing half the time. He liked horror movies but he wasn't an avid fan like you were. Plus you liked books more than movies, and books weren't really Vance's thing.

"Oh, I heard about that I think. I thought you liked books though?" Vance questioned, watching the careful movements of your pencil on paper with interest. His question made you giggle a little which earned you a small glare in return.

"I do, it just seemed interesting. I can still watch movies, y'know. I did draw Carrie earlier today, though. The girl from that one book by Steven King? She was bullied a lot and got pigs blood dumped on her at prom, went absolutely crazy?" You tried your best to explain the book in hopes your boyfriend would understand but he simply stared blankly, his mouth pushed into a frown. You tried your best not to giggle but Vance looked so much less intimidating while he was confused you couldn't help but find it a little cute.

He didn't find it as amusing as you did. Instead he huffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm not a nerd like you, I don't read every book that I see." He shot back despite nothing being said in the first place.

"I think you'd actually like reading. If you weren't on that pinball machine all day, I mean. I swear you like it more than me." You joke. This seems to spark some amusement in Vance. He laughs, and you laugh in return. Even so, he's quick to defend himself as always.

"I do not! You might as well love your books more, you stare at them more than you stare at me." He playfully pushes your shoulder which may have been a little too hard but you know he means nothing by it. You decide to drop the subject and turn the page to the drawing of Carrie you had finished before Vance came over. It was the scene where Carrie was dying at the end and Sue found her. You liked that scene a lot, it was nice to know Carrie died knowing Sue didn't hate her.

Vance stares at the drawing, his brows furrowed. "What's going on in it?" Oh. You had forgotten he wasn't aware.

"Carrie, the one dying, is kind of reading Sue's mind before she dies. She finds out Sue didn't actually hate her and didn't know what was going to happen at prom. I just like the scene, I don't know." You shrug, dismissing everything else you'd like to say about the book. While you're practically obsessed with it you know Vance doesn't really care for books at all, so you decide not to bore him about it. To your surprise he inquires more about it, anyway.

"What's the rest of the book about?" He seems genuinely interested, his gaze fixed on the drawing as he stares at every part, every detail. You hesitate for a second before answering briefly.

"This girl, like 17 or 18 I think, is bullied at school for being really sheltered by her mom. She doesn't really know a lot and is just kind of an outcast, I guess." You watch Vance's expression and surprisingly he's still listening, waiting for you to continue. You do. "Anyway, Sue gets Tommy to take her to prom so she can have a good time and live her life like an actual person. Her mom's super religious though so she didn't like it but Carrie went anyway. Another group of people poured pigs blood on her while they were crowned queen and queen."

Vance seemed as though he were in thought for a moment before he quickly fixed his expression. "It sounds okay, I guess." He shrugged and tapped his fingers against his arms. He normally fiddled with his pocket knife but you had recently asked him not to do it around you, it often made you nervous. He was understanding, and you knew he would be. Vance was without a doubt scary but you were his boyfriend, he wasn't going to scare you. Not with any harm, anyway.

Instead Vance had a habit of simply sneaking up on you or showing up behind corners while you were distracted. He still took joy in being an absolute menace, unfortunately. You're taken away from your thoughts as your boyfriend takes your pencil from your hand and more carefully takes your sketchbook. You allow him, you knew he had no malicious intent.

Often times when he took your sketchbook he simply wanted to look through it or occasionally doodle. This time it seemed as though he were trying to copy your drawing of Carrie right beside your own. His lips were pressed together and his brows furrowed as he focused, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly more when he messed up and had to erase his mistake. You weren't sure if he was frustrating himself until he threw the pencil down onto the bed and looked at you with a proud grin.

You take your attention away from Vance and look at his copy of your drawing. A small smile is placed upon your face as you study it. It really wasn't that good, but Vance was proud of it and it certainly was a bit better than it normally was. If your drawing wasn't right there you'd be able to guess it was Carrie. Had he been practicing or something?

"You have some competition, now." Your boyfriend boasted, his arms crossed as he looked down at your sketchbook and then back up to you. You snort, shaking your head a little in disbelief. "Clearly. Stop practicing, i'm supposed to be the artsy one in this relationship, that's my job. Not yours."

Vance let out a laugh at your response. "Maybe I will take your place. Be careful." You rolled your eyes in attempts to show your false lack of approval but the smile plastered onto your expression proved otherwise. You couldn't believe it, before you had dated Vance you would've assumed the most artsy thing he was interested in was carving things with his pocket knife. You were proven wrong, apparently.

Whether it was from an actual new interest in drawing or his competitive nature in general you weren't sure, but you weren't complaining. You were glad he at least had some sort of interest in the things your interested in, even if it was just to try and be better than you at it. An idea popped up into your head, an idea anyone else would get punched for even considering. You were his boyfriend though, so you were pretty much safe.

"I'll just beat your highscore at pinball or something. Doesn't seem that hard." You shrugged, taking a quick glance at Vance's expression. He looked shocked, his mouth slightly opened and his eyes wide. You almost laughed but you managed to bite your tongue. As much as you knew Vance wouldn't actually hurt you you couldn't count on him putting you in a light headlock, which was probably what he was considering right now.

"You wouldn't even get close." Vance's voice got lower, his tone nowhere far away from threatening. Still, the spark of amusement in his eyes is still there. He's only teasing.

"I'm thinking about it. Since we're picking up new hobbies and all." You flip through the pages of your sketchbook to try and seem as though this conversation wasn't interesting you in the slightest. You probably just looked a little dumb.

"You absolutely will not!" Vance quickly moves forward and holds you close in a position where you could barely move. You can't help but laugh, your fists flying backwards in an attempt to get out of your boyfriend's grasp. It comes nowhere near working but you can feel the vibrations of him trying his best to stop himself from laughing, too. It wasn't really working that well.

"Vance Hopper I will break that pinball machine instead!" You cackled, finally landing a hit on Vance. By the way he grunted and seemed to almost stagger a little you could tell you had accidentally hurt him more than you wanted to. Before you could even pause and apologize he was back to teasing as if you hadn't even done anything at all.

"I'll just take your sketchbook, then." Your boyfriend stated in a matter-of-fact tone. You barely even get your words out before he lets go and grabs your sketchbook before you get a chance to. Vance quickly gets off of your bed and you copy his movements, the two of you pausing as you wait for the other to move. You move first, grabbing for your sketchbook only for him to let out a bark of laughter and run out of your room. You want to say something but you decide to save your breath for the chase you knew he was likely going to win.

Vance ran from cops significantly more than you did. You never ran from cops, you didn't have to. This wasn't the first time he had unceremoniously stolen something from you and ran, unfortunately. He seemed to find it entertaining and while you did, too in a sense it didn't always end in you winning. Still, you decide to feed his already overgrown ego and chase him around your house in hopes he won't accidentally break anything in the process.

It doesn't take you long to catch up, once you get downstairs you find him waiting right in the living room. The second he sees you, though, he starts running again and you do, too. You dodge various pieces of furniture, almost knocking one of the chairs in your dining room over. Thankfully Vance is much less clumsy than you and as far as you have seen hasn't come close to breaking anything or knocking anything over.

"Give it!" You demand, your breath overtaking your voice as you struggle to get it back. Vance is struggling too, his chest rising and lowering as he stands with your sketchbook on the other side of the table. Rather than a proper response he gives an out of breath laugh. You know you won't get your stolen property back by simply catching him, that boy has outrun probably half of the police officers in Denver easily.

You try your best to formulate a plan in your head. You could trick him, but you weren't really sure how. Even though he had already failed two grades and was easily going on year three he wasn't an idiot. Whatever you quickly came up with he'd definitely figure out without a doubt. Bribery, maybe. The only thing he cares about his pinball, though, and you weren't that keen on wasting money when you knew he'd give it back eventually.

Even so, you wanted to win. You may be the polar opposite of your boyfriend personality wise but you were equally as competitive. You were going to get that sketchbook back on your own.

"I'll give you money for pinball if you give me my sketchbook." You try your best to hide your growing smirk. Vance raised one singular eyebrow, his breaths becoming more regulated as time goes on. You don't need a verbal response to know he's considering and likely wants you to go on.

"Enough for like - a few games maybe? I know you're short on change right now, you were complaining about it earlier at the Grab n' Go." You knew this because you were the one Vance was complaining to. You often watched him play pinball the same as he often watched you draw.

"Okay, deal." Vance shrugs, stepping forward. You know Vance, and you know he's not just gonna give it to you that easily. You're gonna have to be equally as mean if you want that sketchbook as bad as he does. As soon as he walks close enough you waste no time to tackle him to the ground, catching him off guard and causing both of you to tumble into the ground.

Before Vance has enough time to react you grab your sketchbook from his hands and try your best to get up. Instead he grabs your ankle and pulls you down, crawling forward in attempt to grab your own sketchbook from your hands after you had just taken it back from him. You loved him, but the audacity this boy has sometimes is truly unbelievable. Determined to not let Vance take it again you slide it across the floor, causing your boyfriend to pause and curse under his breath.

You could tell he was beginning to take this seriously. You were too, in a sense. You really wanted to win for once and Vance could tell. The two of you rush forward, your socks sliding on the floor of the dining room as you both try your best to get there first. Without thinking you push Vance's face away to try and give you enough time and stop him a little. It works, and you feel your sketchbook in your hands once again.

You decide to not make the mistake of lingering again and bolt upstairs deciding running outside with Vance chasing you would look a little odd without context. You also didn't feel like getting your socks dirty. Your boyfriend wastes no time chasing after you as you make your ways upstairs, the thumping of two pairs of feet on the stairs probably enough to cause an earthquake if you both tried hard enough.

You make it into your room before Vance does and, knowing exactly what he's gonna try, shove it into one of your drawers right after closing the door on his face. It opens right after you shut the drawer closed, leaving you to stand in your own room empty handed and a little nervous. Your boyfriend looks over your room in a frenzy to try and find your sketchbook and quickly gives up, accepting the sketchbook is gone but not yet accepting you actually won.

A proud grin adorns your face, your whole body shaking with leftover adrenaline from being chased around your own house and being knocked to the ground once or twice. Vance stares at you before huffing and sitting down onto your bed, the mattress shifting with the new weight of your boyfriend. You join him.

"So I don't get the change for pinball?" He asks, his voice full of disappointment that really doesn't match his personality at all. You sigh and roll your eyes ever so slightly, the smallest of smiles appearing as you fished through your pockets for change. As you hand it over to Vance his expression immediately lights up and he affectionately punches you in the shoulder, maybe a little harder than necessary. "Alright, thanks." He laughs, putting the coins into his own pockets. You really got robbed twice.

You snort in response and Vance seems to stare at your small bookshelf, his eyes apparently caught on a specific one. You follow his gaze but can't tell exactly which one he's looking at specifically, there are quite a few.

"Hey, isn't that the book you were talking about?" You narrow your eyes in thought before you finally come across the memory.

"Oh, yeah. Carrie. Why?"

"Can I uh - borrow it or something? I probably won't finish it, I'm not a literal nerd like you, but you seemed to like it so maybe it's not that bad." He shrugged nonchalantly, though his fixed attention on the book broke his 'cool guy' facade. You smirk, standing up and grabbing the book from the shelf.

"Sure, I don't mind. Just give it back at some point, please." You can't help but chuckle, holding the book out towards your boyfriend. He gives an indignant snort in response and takes it from your hands.

"No promises."

[babyarmybabbles]

Run ARMY! (1st Game Part) a1 d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader won the opportunity to film a spin off of Run BTS! celebrating the boys return from enlistment, called Run ARMY!, over the course of seven days.

Word Count: 954

Notes: This chapter in particular is actually inspired by a SKZ fic on Ao3 but I'm so tired I am not going to go look for it rn. I will probably add it to the inspo list for this chapter when I make an Addition post. Thinking about games and activities for them to do is literally so difficult. Props to the production crew for Run, I could never. Writing large groups is also vv difficult T^T I'm actually pretty content with the writing itself for this chapter. Could use some clarity edits, but everything always can.

Took Inspirations from Run ARMY! series on Tik Tok by _yamanika_ and Guess The Bias! by HelloMyAlien7 on Ao3

Warnings: I don't think there's any?

Masterlist Link <3 | Prev Part Link c: | Next Part Link [Not written D:]

"Before we begin, I would like to apologize to my fellow ARMY" you tell the camera seriously as soon as the PD finishes explaining the rules to you.

You and the boys had been called into the living room of your accommodations after breakfast for the first real game of your trip. It seemed they were mostly theming the games as ones they've done before with the added twist of you. Today’s game? The iconic five sense test.

The group cracks up laughing at your preemptive apology, but you maintain your eye-contact with the camera. "I will be as respectful as physically possible." You promise the dark lens, "Please understand."

You had good reason to preemptively apologize, you thought. ARMY would go feral as soon as this episode aired, you were positive. It wasn't every day one was not only allowed, but encouraged to touch the members of BTS.

That's right, they had rearranged the five sense rest in such a way that it was you against BTS, and the consequence was that you now had to caress each member as little as you could manage and still win the game.

The rules were pretty simple - you'd be blindfolded and the members would take turns approaching you to let you try to identify them by touch. You'd have 50 seconds to guess. If you got a member correct, you'd get a point. If you got it wrong, the boys would get a point.

You think 1 vs 7 is a little unfair, but you suppose that you did represent the millions of ARMYs at home right now. Your team was larger in spirit.

When the members got over their amusement at your impending doom, you took a moment between takes, as the 8 of you settled into position on and around an armchair, to check in that everyone was comfortable. You know you'd filled out an entire questionnaire about what you did and didn't consent to, but that didn't mean you knew that information about the group.

"So, I know I'm OK with this game, but are y'all good?" You question lightly. You're dead serious on the inside, but a little levity went a long way for these sorts of conversations.

It's Jungkook who raises his eyebrow at you. "Yeah, of course." He replies simply, tilting his head at you a bit, as if confused why you'd even ask.

You can't help the half smile that crawls over your face as you explain, "It may be a cultural thing, but I just wanted to make sure you were OK with me touching y'all like that." You pause here, still seeing confusion over most faces, RM and Jin being the only ones to be connecting dots, "Y'know, since we don't really know each other?"

A chorus of enlightenment echoes around the semi-circle of men surrounding you. V in particular seems a bit taken aback, almost like he'd forgotten that you weren't close. Which was silly, because you'd literally met them for the first time yesterday.

j-hope meets your eyes with a kind and encouraging gaze. "We're fine!" He assures you, leveling you with a concerned look of his own, "as long as you are?"

"I assure you, this is a dream come true on my end." You quip, drawing a laugh out of Jimin and a mischievous grin from Jungkook. J-hope just shakes his head at you fondly.

"Seriously though," You continue, "If I'm wandering too far or in directions I shouldn't, just grab my hands to stop me. I'd rather not make anyone uncomfortable." It, in fact, made YOU a lot more comfortable to put the power to stop things in their hands.

You had so much anxiety about respecting their boundaries and it was only day 2. It was tough going from one side of a screen to another.

RM nods agreeably where he's standing and adds, "Sure, and if you get uncomfortable or need a break, just let us know." You sound your agreement to the group's approving nods.

Soon enough Suga was helping you tie a handkerchief over your eyes while you nervously wrung a secondary eye mask between your hands. You'd been handed a cute frog one by a staff member and were quite pleased by its silliness.

You already felt quite vulnerable, blinded as you were. You could feel Suga's fingers deftly tying the handkerchief and resisted a shiver as he gently smooths it and makes you're none of your hair has been caught. You jump a bit when his hand lands on your shoulder.

You feel a split second hesitation before he draws away just to pat you twice in silent signal of the completion of his task and know that he'd noticed. He's kind enough not to mention it, though, and you hope he just puts it down to nerves.

You ARE nervous, of course, of the cameras, and the members, and everything about your situation, basically, but your jumpiness really stems from how unmoored you feel as you slide the face mask on. You're robbed of one of your most relied upon sense and soon to lose a second. You can't help going quiet and still as you listen to the staff and members take their places.

It seems Suga is MCing this episode as he leads the opening and prompts the members to explain what they're up to today. It brings a smile to your face to listen to them banter and you only wish that you could see their accompanying smiles right now.

You assume you've been revealed when Suga calls out to you, so you wave with both hands and try to look more excited than anxious. You're not sure it works.

[toujokaname]

HiMERU Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: HiMERU, Kohaku

"(Let's get properly involved with the world, "HiMERU".)"

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Season: Summer

Location: Seisoukan Common Room

HiMERU: ~...♪

Kohaku: Mm? O~i, HiMERU-han, what're ya doin' this late at night?

HiMERU: —Oh? HiMERU could say the same to you. Are you out on a walk at such a late hour... Oukawa?

Kohaku: Koh koh koh ♪ I'm jus' happy I'm able to walk 'round freely.

Also, when I was at home, I got used to stayin' up late, so sleep don't come to me easy at this time of night.

I keep thinkin' "I oughta go to bed early," but I can't.

That bein' said. If we both don't go to bed soon, it'll have an effect on tomorrow, 'cos human beings can only recover through sleep.

HiMERU: —Is that so. HiMERU's view differs from that, and Shiina, for example, would most certainly hold a different opinion.

Kohaku: Yeah. That moron's a special case in that he can't recover from anythin' that ain't food.

As we spend more and more time together, I've unavoidably learned that he's like a single-celled organism that'll put anythin' and everythin' in his mouth.

He's eatin' all the time. I lose my appetite jus' by lookin' at 'im.

HiMERU: —Fufu. Shiina would surely be unhappy about that, since he seems to love serving food to others.

Kohaku: For real. That guy's like, his whole life's centered 'round his stomach.

HiMERU: Fufu. To HiMERU, that is an enviable thing, to have something so irreplaceable—things like that.

Aah, what does the world look like to such a person?

—Anyhow. To answer your first question, as you can see... HiMERU is writing a reply to a fan letter he received.

Kohaku: Fan retaa[1]?

HiMERU: Yes. HiMERU takes pride in his long career history and is a popular idol in his own right.

Letters from fans arrive in boxes, and all of them are piled up here.

Kohaku: Oh? Really, all of these?

Haah... I can't help but sigh. I'm still unfamiliar with idol culture, so this's new to me, y'know?

It's real impressive that they're all handwritten, even in this age of the Internet, ain't it?

HiMERU: Yes. HiMERU is very grateful for it. Even then, these don't include those that were slanderous in nature. The agency censored and removed those.

Kohaku: Huhh~... And despite that, there's still these many left. HiMERU-han must be a real popular guy, huh?

HiMERU: Rather than it being a result of his popularity, HiMERU is one of the rare types of celebrities who reply to letters. His fans are likely to know this, and thus, they send him more and more.

Anyone would be happy to receive a reply to their letter, after all.

Kohaku: ...That's right. Communication's only possible when you speak or write and get a proper response.

To communicate with someone can be a pleasure hard to come by. Screamin' into the abyss will only hurt yer throat, and nothin' worthwhile's gonna come of it.

HiMERU: —Oh dear. Oukawa, you look a little hurt. Apologies, did HiMERU unknowingly tread on a sensitive topic for you?

Kohaku: Hm. It ain't good to be too sharp, HiMERU-han.

...No need to worry 'bout it, I'm fine. I was jus' thinkin' 'bout an old pen pal of mine.

Hm. Even though I thought I'd come to terms with it and forgotten 'bout it, the wounds in my heart'll remain unhealed and hurt forever.

Oh, well. Sorry I called out to ya while you were workin', HiMERU-han.

I'm goin' back to my room to rest. When it comes to yer letter writing... there ain't anything I can do to help ya, anyway.

HiMERU: Indeed. The senders of the letters, the fans, would most certainly want to receive a reply from their favorite idol written by the person in question.

HiMERU cannot ask someone to write on his behalf, so even if he gets tendonitis, he will have to write them all by himself.

Kohaku: Hmm, "the person in question", huh...?

HiMERU: —What is it?

Kohaku: Nothin'. If you've convinced yourself of that, then I've nothing to say. ...Jus' be careful not to break yer body or mind by overdoin' it, HiMERU-han.

HiMERU: —Yes. Thank you for your concern, Oukawa.

Goodnight, have a pleasant sleep ♪

Kohaku: Koh koh koh ♪ ...Though that surprise attack was meant to shake ya up, you didn't even tremble a lil while you were writin'. I gotta praise ya for that.

You've got a calm face and guts, I'm glad I can rely on ya as a unitmate.

Welp. For real now... G'night, HiMERU-han ♪

~...♪

HiMERU: (...Hm. It looks like he's gone. That made me break out in a bit of a cold sweat.)

(It's the same for you. You have a cute face, but I should never be too careless around you... Oukawa Kohaku.)

("Oukawa". I've heard rumors that they have a family history of single-handedly taking care of dirty work...)

(Sure enough, the more someone wants to hide something, the more likely it is for it to reach their ears.)

(But. Even if you heard about the secret that "I'm" carrying, you should've pretended to be unaware of it.)

(And yet, just now, you deliberately gave me a warning, as if to say, "I know"—why?)

(Maybe you were so sleepy that you slipped up, or maybe you didn't mean anything by it...)

(Was it a threat, or a sign of trust as a colleague? I don't know. There's not enough material to speculate, either.)

(Aah, it's really... interesting. Communication, that is.)

(That which is called life! Overflowing with pleasant discoveries and emotions, the most valuable treasure room in this world!)

HiMERU: (—So. "You". You can't keep averting your eyes and pretending you don't see it... Let's get properly involved with the world, "HiMERU".)

Kohaku repeats this in hiragana, indicating his unfamiliarity with the term.

In his inner monologue at the end, you can notice I didn't make HiMERU talk in third person. The reason why is that in most of his dialogue, he actually omits personal pronouns entirely. In those cases, translators default to making him speak in third person. However, given the context of what he's saying, I felt it appropriate to make him use first-person pronouns. In the Japanese script, he only uses "ore" once, where it's in quotation marks.

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[sw33tsuccubus]

Clouded Thoughts [frnkiero x reader]

era: revenge

desc: Reader is male; he's also a gym rat. (i don't work out, so i have basically no clue as of what i'm doing) Frank is a lil flustery and thinks his boyfriend is hot because he's a strong lad and requests to be carried. Reader finds this cute and decides to have a little fun with it. flufffluffffluff

A/N: WHY ARE TITLES SO HARD TO COME UP WITH?? i did have fun writing this with my friend and i making fun of my lack of a name though. first fanfic, i think it turned out alright NOT PROOFREAD

inspired/requested by: @anystalker707

word count: 1k

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

"-abe? Babe? You going somewhere?"

At the lack of (insert favorite band) coming in through my left earbud, I looked up at the male responsible. Frank looked down at me with a sort of curiosity in his eyes, his mouth stretched into a confused grin.

I smiled up at him and looked back at my tennis shoes, finishing tying my laces.

"I'm off to the gym. I thought I told you earlier?"

"I must have forgotten."

"Alright then. Nothing to do?"

"The TV doesn't have anything good on right now."

"Hah. When does it ever?"

I finished my laces and looked up at him with a confused smirk, only to be met with a smile of innocence.

"Are you sure you're not here to ask me for something?"

"I'm sure."

"You found your bear socks?"

"Yep. They were hiding underneath the bed."

"No chores you don't want to do?"

"Nope."

"Any of the guys need something and you can't find it?"

"Nope. Haven't spoken to any of them since yesterday. You can check my contacts if you want to."

"Mhm. Wonderful."

I stood up and looked him in the eyes. Something in them seemed.. away. Like he did actually want something. I pressed a kiss to his forehead, getting a soft hum in respond.

"Do you want to come with me? I'm sure there's something you could do there."

"Sure. Do you think I could hang around with you while you do your thing?"

"Absolutely. Wouldn't want you to be bored."

With that, Frank dropped to the ground and started tying the laces to his own shoes, leaving me to let out a chuckle.

"I'll meet you at the car. I need to get some stuff."

"Sir, yes sir."

~~~~

"So do you do this every time you come here?"

"No, my workouts normally change everyday. I don't think I've ever done the same set before."

I could see Frank nod in the corner of my eye.

"What did you say your goal was today again?"

I internally rolled my eyes. I don't know how many times he's asked this question. At least three.

"Shoulders and upper back. You can join at any time, y'know."

"Nah, I'm fine. I'd probably crumple underneath the weights."

I let out a little laugh before turning to him. His eyes quickly shot to mine, and he gave me a little grin. My eyes searched his for a moment, and they seemed a little clouded. Like he was thinking hard about something.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah?"

He raised his eyebrows at me and gave me a reassuring smile.

"You sure?"

"Of course."

After receiving a nod, I finally set down the weights. I turned towards the pull-up bar and walked over to it, quickly hopping up and making sure I have a good grip. I counted to three before I started to do chin-ups. The goal was 25 in a row, but a force pulling me down caused me to pause.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?"

"I need to be able to life myself."

I felt a him let go of my legs, and I finished my chin-ups before dropping down. I turned to look at him and he gave me another innocent smile. I sighed and walked off towards the weights again.

~~~~

"What's been up with you today?"

It'd been about half an hour since the pull-up bar incidence, and he'd been looking at my arms the whole time. It was kind of worrying me; was he afraid to say something?

"Hm?"

He looked up into my eyes, and the same cloudiness from earlier was there. This time, however, I finally think I understand what's wrong as the gears in my head turned. I gave him a wide grin, and he furrowed his brows in confusion.

"I asked what's been up with you today. Any time I talk to you, you seem like you're somewhere else."

"Just thinkin'."

"About what, exactly?"

Frank's cheeks turned a nice shade of pink and he looked at his shoes. I let out a giggle before safely dropping the barbell to the ground and walking over to him.

"U-uh.. you."

"What about me, hon?"

He turned his head to the side, and I giggled again, kissing the side of his head before pulling him into a hug. He relaxed, wrapping his arms around me in turn. When we pulled away, he started laughing. I shot him a questioning look before getting a response.

"The roles have been reversed! Suddenly you're the sweaty one pulling the other into a hug."

I grinned at him before laughing myself, and we grabbed hands, meeting each other in a kiss.

He pulled back and sighed contently, staring at me from behind his lashes. I could still see a trace of pink on his cheeks, and then I noticed his lip ring rolling around.

"So.. are you finished?"

"I guess I am. That was the last thing of the workout."

His lips curled up into a shy smile before he let out a soft sigh.

"Can you- do you think you could carry me to the car?"

I let out a laugh and nodded my head. His face lit up and he spread his arms.

"Hold on, hon. I need to pack my stuff first."

His furrowed his brow and stuck out his bottom lip. As if that would stop me.

I quickly gather my belongings before heading to the restroom and changing my clothes. Being stuck in sweaty and gross smelling clothing for the next 20 minutes on the drive back to the apartment would be hell.

As soon as I walked out of the restroom, Frank popped up beside me and spread his arms yet again. I laughed before wrapping my arms around his torso. I felt his legs wrap around my waist and his arms wrap around my shoulders before he buried his face into my neck.

I pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and walked us out of there. We approached the car and he whined as I tapped his thigh to let him know.

"I don't wanna let go."

"We can cuddle once we get home. I just need to shower and make dinner first."

"What if I order food in the car and you go take your shower? It'll speed up the process."

"Whatever you want hon."

He untangled himself and hurried to the passenger side of his car, whipping out his phone. I chuckled to myself; Frank is such a needy guy.

We got into the car and he asked me what I wanted.

"Get whatever you want. I don't care at the moment. I'm just tired."

He nodded before pressing some buttons on his phone. He turned to speak, and I zoned out to pay attention to the road as I started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

~~~~

As soon as I got out of the shower, Frank yelled for me to get downstairs before the food got cold. I hurried hurried across the apartment and then plopped myself on the stool next to him and grinned. He had ordered (insert whatever you're hungry for), and I couldn't help but feel a little special.

When we finished and threw our stuff away, Frank immediately hopped into my arms and made me carry him back to the bedroom. I lay myself back on the mattress and ran a hand through his hair. He grabbed at the sheets and did his best to pull them over us, before I helped him out.

He let out a hum and nuzzled my neck while I pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

"Goodnight, hon."

"'Night babe. Love ya."

"Love you too."

I smiled at the male atop of me before running a hand through his hair again. For once, luck turned in my favor.

[bugeyedfreaks]

Previous anon about ppgxrrb post (the first one lol)

I agree with a lot of what you say about the shipping of ppgxrrb and how the fans just depict them as ultra hot bad boys. Its a breath of fresh air to see others’ perspectives on this, cause as I said before I admit I am a fan sometimes but even seeing a lot of ooc works puts me off. I understand if older fans/people only like it because of nostalgia (I’m one of those) but I’m more baffled with seeing new/younger that also likes to ship them, I can see them just liking the Boys cause they think gender bent/evil/alternate versions of the main protagonist are just fun in general, but I don’t understand why a lot of new fans that also ships them, maybe its because of fanart/fanfic.

In regard of that fic (assuming we’re talking about the same thing) I think the reason why it was praised so much and put on high pedestal was because the standard of the ppgxrrb fics were pretty low (at the time anyway) and for me personally it does felt I’m watching the original when I read it, (aside from the shipping thing, but I only read it for the character writing mostly) imo probably the closest thing I can get to what an older/teenage ppg would sound/read like, it just had shipping… lol but also yea I agree with you about the other villains not getting enough fanfics for themselves, its unfortunate cause ppg has so many great villains and the fandom just chose the least interesting ones (rrb)

Also I love how you described Boomer, he’d definitely be a whiteknight type then probably go “bubblevicious” when he doesn’t get what he wants, in fics he’s usually the first, quickest and easiest to be redeemed which is just very boring and probably the reason why Blues (BubblesxBoomer) is the least favorite of the 3 ships.

Yeah, I think on the most basic, superficial level, taking NOTHING about the personality or history of the characters into account, if you were to show someone who never saw the show a lineup of the Powerpuff GIrls characters and ask them, "Who are the girls' boyfriends?" they would choose the Rowdyruff Boys. Just because of their character designs they're the easiest characters to pair them off with. And I don't use "superficial" or "easy" as an insult, like... it just is what it is by the very nature of it. On a little less of a basic level, they're probably the only boys in the show (including the boys that are in the girls' class like Mitch and Elmer and Harry, etc.) that would be considered "attractive" enough to match up with them. Which, y'know, I could go into a whole rant about the superficiality (negative this time, haha) of that and how that way of thinking feels very creatively limiting... but, yeah, when you're a new fan and you see all this fic/fanart, not to mention how the ship is ultra visible and popular, it's the simplest entry point.

We're totally talking about the same fic. 😂 Again, I've really tried to read it and have an open mind about it, and I guess the mere fact that (from what I remember) the girls occasionally do have fights in it is enough to make it different from a standard PPG/RRB fic where the girls' superpowers are completely forgotten about (a la the City of Clipsville girls)... but the villains and the crimefighting STILL just feel like an afterthought (and maybe it's just my pretentiously high standards for them talking, but I remember really disliking how the dialogue of some of the few villains that are even included in the story was written). For the most part it just seems like it's all just fancy set dressing to disguise your average high school teen fanfic. I remember trying to read it again a while ago and I got to an early point where like some characters were suddenly like making out and I was just like... ew, no, not for me. 😩 That doesn't make me feel like I'm watching the show, that just makes me sick to my stomach! Stuff like that just pulled me way out, I couldn't enjoy it.

And I guess that's also a thing I dislike about some of the fanfics, like... if the RRB are going to have any similarities to the girls it's going to be their negative attributes, but that doesn't seem like an issue that ever gets explored. It seems like, despite whether or not people write them as still having problematic misogynist qualities, Brick always just turns out to be the hot intelligent one, Butch is the tough dude bro, and Boomer is the sweet, sensitive boi. How boring IS that?! 🤣 It doesn't seem like anyone's really challenged themselves to see things from any different, meaningful perspectives, and I have always felt that way. It is a bummer though that, when I have found the rare fanfic that has great writing and feels like the show characters and tells a story that's interesting and new (or even has a ship for the girls that's completely off the wall but... somehow actually works!)... it's because I had to dig through all the PPG/RRB content to find it. And I've seen many people who've written cool stuff get frustrated enough about that difficulty of visibility that that they take down their fics, or they get discouraged from writing anything else, or they even get harassed for daring to write anything against the norm. It bums me out.

[blankticket]

2, 7, 20

How did you get into this franchise/fandom?

i'd actually been avoiding anything trigun for years, since like high school lol. this is gonna get a little personal (i don't mind sharing, ftr! but i don't wanna hurt anyone just having this all Out Here on your dash) so here's a readmore for discretion:

story goes, high school me had taken one of those MBTI tests and looked at the list of fictional character comparisons and was like

"oh shit! omg who's this guy he seems really cool and awesome, also?!" then did a little reading on it by a fan who was essentially like,

"he's happy-go-lucky and some of that is genuine, but it's also used as a front to hide how haunted he is so that his friends don't worry about him. also he has a ton of survivor's guilt he's carried around ever since he was little—and no small part of that is due to his twin brother."

"oh. lmfao. wait wait wait, okay all of that is way too close to home and that scares me so im going to stay away from this forever (video clip representation of me at the time)".

skip forward about a little over a decade later, all the way to just last december; i'm writing in a crocus thread with roo (maxvash!!!) as a different character, and i'm like. Huh. y'know, i'm actually at a spot where i can handle getting into trigun. and Then see that they reblogged the post about trigun overhaul!

so really—the actual lynchpin to get into trigun here was roo's real impressive depiction of maximum vash, which sparked my totally-forgotten intrigue. read through maximum within 3 days (like, literally mid-thread), then a couple weeks later, stampede started airing! real cosmic line-up of events.

What’s the best thing about the canon you are writing?

interpreting "canon" here as "isola radiale", and specifically its world, i think the best part of it is the settings within spirale. i've enjoyed seeing this map grow and change over the years, even if i've been in and out of the group. the little blurbs for areas are enough to fuel creativity while not putting too tight of a leash as to what can transpire in these places.

environment is key to the way these character interactions work, and i feel there's no shortage to variety or overutilization to be done with the settings available

If you could sum up your character with one sentence, what would it be?

joke answer: "dead man walking anthropomorphism of 'Why Can't We Be Friends'". the ska cover version by smash mouth obviously

otherwise: "A pacifist gunslinger who can't escape trouble, whether of his own making or otherwise."

[khaosophist]

The conscience I take to write seem so powerful in the moment. There was something today that I forgot to say... Forgetting used to be about the absence of attention. I would feel that I didn't pay attention, and in my hubris, think it wasn't my fault. It really was not sometimes. But there are times where it was about me not wanting any mental load. With my migraines I either drowned myself in the flow, or strangled anything that wasn't about the here and now. Working out, and accepting my intuition has made for a good cocktail. I'm noticing when my wife did something that was a mental load. Usually it's about communication...messaging someone, or calling someone. I don't know where that anxiety came from. But there was a time where just going somewhere would give me migraines. So, I feel happy to just order my medicine for once. Happened one other time. I think it's good I notice these things, because she is so busy with the baby, that I notice when she goes out of her way.

I still have those fears. They terrify me, and I Focus on our kids. I'm terrified that no matter how close we become, I won't be enough. No matter how much she swims with me in the lakes of Hali. No matter How much she plays with me in forgotten beats. No matter how much I accept my self-awareness.

It feels like she sees my imagination alive. Like she understood why I was who I was. I cannot describe the buoyancy of a soulmate's nuzzling. It's like she was made to fit on my chest and shoulders for that moment. That moment where our humanity didn't matter. Only the love mattered.

I'm so proud that I'm still waking up every day. I didn't skip a beat with helping with the kids. I know it's a mental load to wait for someone to tell you what they want...but I can only do so much sometimes. But those nights where I clean like crazy makes me feel like I'm showing her how much she inspires me. I wasn't exactly a slob. But I didn't Deep Clean, y'know? It used to be just picking things up. Then picking things up and broom. Now it's picking things up, broom, mop. I'm thinking of waxing our floor once we have a house. Become the sexy butler I can be for my Twili mistress.

I remembered what I wanted to write about as I was writing, then forgot it. Lol.

But I also remember how I was so desperate for affection with my ex at that time. That I held a girl's hand. When I told my then girlfriend, she told me she didn't care. No idea if it was true. But I had done it because I felt like there wasn't anything there in the first place.

Before that, I remember getting ready to go to prom with her, and as I'm eating with her family, I get told I wouldn't be going, and that it was over. I still texted her. She reminded me how a guy I hated WAS there...an Obvious manipulative pretty emo boy. He'd treat one of my friends like animals, and they still crushed on them. I wonder how my life would have been if I was overtly a douche, instead of a desperate loner.

But, anyways, fact is, I cheated, no matter how small, on my ex. Hand holding, yes. Honest as a snake, yes. But still cheating.

I don't know why I didn't break up with her. I didn't know I was treating life like a game sometimes. Where a test was all that was needed to go to the next level. All it was, was cowardice. I didn't want to admit I was miserable to be with 'The one'. At that time I believed Like the offspring said "The more you suffer. The more it shows you really care, right?"

I realize that I never saw my ex as my 'Waifu' as I do my wife today. I had convinced myself over two years after the break up that I had deeply loved my ex. To justify why I felt so alone. That it was better to be miserable together, than miserable alone. Stupidest shit. The fact I was so miserable without anything to hold on to forced me to find something that I could hold on to that wasn't outside myself.

That was philosophy. I discovered philosophy because of Adventure time. I shit you not. It was the episode where they are searching for the enchiridion. Well, I searched on google and found the enchiridion of Epictetus...and then the rest is history. I went to university to study philosophy because I wanted to. My father would tell you he had something to do with that. But, that's not true. He never shared philosophy with me. The irony being I was surrounded by his books! Yet, I found none of philosophy. But, hey! At least he had Mein Kampf! He didn't even ask his kids if they wanted some of the books he gave away. The only time my father 'shared' a book was when I'd take it out of one of his bookshelves.

As for my mother...I just want to say that being atheist doesn't stop you from sub-conscious projection of gender roles. I always thought my father was at least *Cultured* or *Educated*, like he had saved my mother from a traditional role. But, my father never wrote poetry. He just read it...nevermind passionately sharing one. I first learned of poetry as an *Exercise*. Can you fucking believe it? I had to *memorize* 'la cigale et la fourmis.' big help that was. I forgot it the same year. If it wasn't for school...I may have never wrote shit.

Anyways. My mother had written poetry. She had written. With her tumour, she stopped writing. The tremors...but the way that I projected onto my mother as being 'uneducated' or 'uncultured' was fed by my dad. Y'know, the kind of 'she is such a Christian that she can still love an atheist, and support her satanist son. I'm such a good person for treating her nice even if she believes in a sky daddy.'

It's hard to know what someone can be robbed of. I'll make sure I share all I can, even if I'm tired. Because I want my kids to know their mother is a muse, among other things. Their father a...khaosophist, I suppose. That there is much to learn in places of learning, as much as places which aren't so clear cut. That willing ignorance is worse than ignorance.

The flaws in my children bring out my own. But I won't make that mean I'll let my flaws fester. I'll face them, and show my kids that we are. Maybe they'll forgive me one day, maybe even appreciate me, or love me. It's easy to say 'I love you.' when the world is young...it's once you have perspective that it becomes tricky...

I realize how self-awareness was touted to me as a bad thing. Overthinking...awkward...*Self-aware*. Do you understand? How some people see self-awareness as embarrassing. You ever had someone tell you you're being too Self-aware?

WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! Shouldn't I be aware of myself? Why wouldn't I want to be Self-aware? Like, what the fuck? Are some people willingly ignorant of their self-awareness? Why is it weird to say 'I believe X because I *want* to believe it.' rather than 'I believe X because I *should* believe X?

One is Self-aware...the other is...what is it to believe something because one believes they *should* believe it. Like a lot of religious people are like that right? Pascal's wager and shit. One *should* believe in god...therefore I believe in God...oof...like...do some people not want to believe in X but believe in X...because they SHOULD? I don't believe anything I believe SHOULD be believed...only that I believe in them.

Anyways...I found my Twili princess...

That's all that matters. She gave me everything.

So I will too.

[joltai-showa]

Upon reading the latest chapter of Karameru's "If you can press rewind" (do check out, it's pretty fun) I remembered something that made me laugh, so here's some random analysis of Naruto, in particilar, the topic of religion.

And I don't mean stuff like afterlife, random alien rabbits, etc etc, I mean like what beliefs people practice in Naruto world. This topic is brought up in, like, one arc which is Akatsuki supression arc and with one character who is Hidan. That arc is pretty funny in that it brings up two things that should realistically play a pretty significant role in characters' lives - money and religion - buuuut it's instantly forgotten in favor of more Sasuke bitching. Anyway, that's besides the point, back to the topic of religion.

Here I am gonna be laying out things that I certainly remember from my reread of Naruto like a year ago, so not everything might be mentioned, blah blah blah.

Obviously, we've got Jashinism and Hidan as the only known member (no, little Bolt's adventures are not canon to me, there are fanfics out there that have better writing than that excuse of a sequel series). As far as I remember, it's generally treated as a cult, so it's not widely practiced, even though it does offer these tiny little perks like LITERAL IMMORTALITY.

(sidenote but why the fuck was Orochimaru doing these replanting operations every three years when there's a cult like that literally one border away from Konoha? you're gonna be murdering people for experiments anyway, grab a knife or smth and shout that they're dying for Jashin's glory, you literally don't have to change your routine at all and get free immortality as well?)

ahem. anyway. Who the fuck is Jashin? Why is the guy capable of making his hardcore followers just straight up not die from physical injuries? How does he fit with the other stuff like Pure Lands, Limbo, aliens, etc, etc? Nobody knows, but by far the most broken religion in the world where it feels like all major characters have commited at least one war crime.

Now things that are (likely?) more widespread and commonly believed in are Wills, and really there are only two Wills that we ever learn of, first being the Will of Fire (obviously practiced in Konoha) and Will of Stone (literally only mentioned in Onoki's flashback with his grandpa).

Will of Fire, from how I see it, is something similar to beliefs in spirits of ancestors that continue to linger on and provide help given the fact that certain rituals are upheld that are pretty common in many countries in Asia. Sorry if the phrasing is a bit weird, I can barely formutale it in my first language, not to mention English. Anyway, this is, as far as I remember, is pretty widely practiced in Konoha which is not a big population centre in the Land of Fire, but also practically the capital for shinobi forces in the country, y'know, shinobi that have an average lifespan of like 30 years. Will of Fire acts like both the origin point for Konoha shinobi (your ancestors and fallen comrades are part of it and continue watching over you) and the end point (this is what awaits you beyond, presumably honorable, death). So Will of Fire is by far the closest thing that we see to an actual religion.

(also decided to scroll through wiki on this point and lmao of course Will of Fire came from Hashirama, because making everyone go along with your philosophy gonna be great in the long run. no wonder the hidden village system didn't fix shit)

Now Will of Stone is a really weird one because it's actually kinda closer to a philosophy? It just describes what virtues Iwa shinobi is supposed to have, however that might just be an issue that Kishimoto forgot about Iwa's existence for like 80% of the manga, thus whatever lore is there for them is half-done. Anyway, with what we are given Will of Stone is more about what qualities Iwa shinobi should strive for, and, funnily enough, nobody seems to remember that this Will even exists besides Onoki. The youngest generation represented by Kurotsuchi, Akastuchi and Deidara (who is a nukenin which might have explained why he doesn't give a shit about the villages' beliefs) are never shown to acknowledge Will of Stone.

Anyway, that's it for fully fictional religions in the world of Naruto, but we are not done yet, because Kishimoto sometimes really liked to slap elements from Buddhism or Shinto, which I presume to be not completely intentional on his part as he was prioritizing aesthetics of a scene/jutsu rather than the implications this creates for the existing religions in the shinobi world.

Okay, what conclusions can we make regarding what had been given to us in canon? Shinobi definitely have

a) their local religions and beliefs that are pretty strongly assosiated with their villages

b) various cults

c) likely some form of Buddhism

So why did I decide to write up this post after reading the recent chapter in "If you can press rewind"? Well, the most obvious thing from the list above is that Christianity doesn't exist in the context of Naruto world. And, as a result, the characters from that world have no idea what Christmas, Easter, St. Valentine's day, etc etc are, because these holidays simply don't exist for them.

(This is not to throw shade on anyone, just a thing a remembered)

Anyway, so funny story time: there was a post in a Naruto discussion group where the admin brought up this exact same topic and people began analyzing if there were any other signs of real-life religions that shouldn't really exist in the context of Naruto.

And they way everyone LOST THEIR SHIT when someone pulled up a page from the manga where Jiraya was called Naruto's "godfather". Which really shouldn't be a thing unless Christianity does exist in the shinobi world. People began a full-on dang investigation into that page, we're talking about a dozen of people pulling up different translations of the same page, comparing and arguing about the validity of another translation.

It did end well, after a while someone pulled up with the page in Japanese and explained that yes, Jiraya is kind of called Naruto's godfather, but the term in the original text is different to the one used to describe godfather in Christianity, meaning Jiraya is simply someone with guardian-like role to Naruto. Limitations of translations and all, yada yada.

But goddamn was it fun to see people try to fit Holy Crusades into the already messy lore of Naruto