#carbon dating myself here

[author-a-holmes]

Storytime.

When I was FIVE, Wonderwall was number one in the UK charts.

And every morning, it would come on the radio alarm clock in my parents room at approximately the same time.

And I loved it. I loved it SO much, that I would refuse to get up, and ready for nursery school (Kindergarten? for the US here) until I'd heard it play.

Which was fine... until the week it wasn't in the charts anymore. I refused to get up for hours, and ended up late to nursery. I'm also pretty sure that morning dad ended up late to work lol.

Wonderwall is still a favourite, nostaligic, song for me, and now I'm 34 next month Lol.

tfw wonderwall

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[mountainsandmayhem]

Netflix & Chill

Marcus Pike x Female Reader

18+, MDNI

Summary: You spend your fifth date with Marcus at his place watching Netflix.

Or

You might be in your thirties, but you can still Netflix and Chill.

Warnings: fluffy smut. Kissing. Little bit of dirty talk. Fully clothed. Marcus just being the love of my life the entire time.

AN: Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me. I am too busy having my brain absolutely disintegrated by thoughts of Agent Pike. I am sick over him. Down bad. Wanting to rip off my arms and beat myself senseless with them over him. Leave me alone!! But also leave me nice comments because I’m a slut with a praise kink lol. Thank you so much for reading 🤎

Graphics and dividers by @saradika-graphics

Moodboard by me

“Oh god,” you whimper, both of you are fully dressed. You’re caged under his strong body as he pushes his hips down on you. You can feel his cock through his grey sweats and your thin, black yoga pants. The credits of whatever movie you were watching rolled in the background.

“Is this ok?” He asks, kissing at your neck and earlobe. The soft, fuzzy brown blanket falls around both of you, encasing you in his earthy and citrus scent.

“Ya, please don’t stop.” You writhe under him, feeling that familiar tingly pressure building. He smiles into the crook of your neck.

It was your fifth date with Marcus Pike, FBI agent and potential man of your dreams. In his younger years, he probably would have already slept with you by now. But age has made him a man of patience and waiting. Only giving what he’s willing to let go of, what he can nurture and grow. And for the first time in a long time, he thinks that might be you.

“I won’t stop, baby.”

Baby, shit. He panics internally. He’s only called you by your name until now. He nervously looks over at you and you smile sleepily.

“I like that,” you mumble.

“Which part?” He asks his voice like warm oil along your skin. “Me grinding into what I’m sure is the most beautiful pussy in the world, or the kisses on your soft, slender, vanilla scented neck, or me calling you baby?”

Your legs start to shake around him as you pull him in to kiss him hard. You sweep your tongue along his bottom lip. He tastes like the popcorn and expensive Cabernet Sauvignon you were both drinking.

“All of it,” you say between kisses.

He pulls away, bringing his hands to your face and gently wiping the few loose hairs that stick to your skin, then drags the tip of his nose down yours before resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re truly so beautiful. I’m so happy I met you, baby.” He pushes his hips into you harder and a pornographic moan fills the room as the trailer for whatever Netflix is suggesting next plays. “Sound so pretty too.”

“Marcus,” you say wantonly.

“I know. I’m here.” He says, eyes still locked on yours, one thumb making sweet, soft circles on your cheek while his other slips behind your head.

Your hands bunch into his white t-shirt. “I’m gonna cum,” you moan, letting his coca-cola coloured eyes wash over you, and drench your whole body in carbonated pleasure. Sparkling, bubbling, fizzing over the edge.

“I’m right here, honey.” He whispers, pushing into you a little faster. Your body jolts into his as you suck in quick, shallow breaths.

“Ohgodohgod. Mar-Marcus,” your walls clench tightly around nothing as he hits at your puffy, sensitive clit through your pants at the perfect tempo and pressure.

“Relax, baby. I got you.” He encourages and then you fall apart for him. Your body twitches on its own accord as your orgasm rolls through you for what feels like an eternity.

“That’s it,” he whispers, stilling his hips. “Just take. That’s a good girl.”

You clamp your eyes shut as you reach the top of it. “No, look at me, baby. You’re so beautiful like this.”

Pink flushes your cheeks at his words and the blood that seems to not know where to go in your body. Everything feels like it’s being doused with warm water as you finally come over the edge and the fluttering of your pussy slows.

His eyes dance around your face before he kisses your forehead, and the tip of your nose. You smile into his lips as he places a light and lingering kiss on yours.

“Are you okay?” He says sweetly, pulling back slightly.

“Ya, that’s was…” you search his face for any hint of regret but all you see is admiration. You finish with, “…unexpected, but amazing.”

As he starts to respond, a whipping sound followed by a moan comes from the TV. Both of your heads turn towards it.

“Netflix is suggesting 50 Shades of Grey,” he laughs.

“That’s more of a seventh date thing for me,” you say flatly as his face whips back to you. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction. Both of you now laughing as you sort yourself back out, cuddling into him to find a new movie to “watch” next.

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @keylimebeag @pimosworld

@casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @jessthebaker

@jasminedragoon @pedroswife69 @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @pedroshotwifey

@mermaidgirl30 @littlevenicebitch69 @untamedheart81

Special tag for @survivingandenduring because I know you share my love of this man.

[heartfullofleeches]

everytime i see the name v you can be assured that i am going to butt in.

honestly, v is definitely the type to hire a hitman just because he got in an argument with someone. sure, he could deal with it by himself — but he is a lazy bum and has his... "priorities".

v meeting up with the hitman and immediately his jaw falls off. the most he was expecting is a bald man in shades and a suit, not an incarnate of a divine being!

v watching hitman aim their sniper on the victim — he can't help but observe the focus in your eyes and the steadiness and precision of your hand near the trigger. he praises the beauty of your hands, and unfortunately, his mind got to wandering. thinking about how your hands would feel on his cock — would you focus on his cock like you focus the aim on your targets? would you stroke his cock with absolute precision?

he's put out of his state when he hears a 'bang!' and flinches.

"the job is done, mr. vince."

"could you... do me next?"

"..."

This is bullshit.

If he knew he had to go outside to have that bastard killed, he would've just done it himself.

V drums his fingers against the dinner table - eyes scanning the venue for anyone that might fit his imagined description of the person he's looking for. Rugged, shaven head, nice suit and tie - maybe a few visible scars from their line of work. While there a number of suits in a fine establishment, they were just the run of the mill rich assholes he'd grown accusation to through his life.

Sweat beading down his neck, V pulls at his collar. He hadn't even dressed up for his grandmother's funeral a year ago and now here he was in a nice button up and slacks for a complete stranger - and it isn't even for a date. If the waitress came by again to check if he was ready to order his tie would be an easy ticket out of here without the embarrassment of walking out looking like a dateless loser. He can already hear them laughing whichever way this goes. Frustrated, V folds his arms, shutting his eyes as tries to blend with the background of the uncomfortable booth he sat in. Maybe if he keeps them closed long enough when they open he'll be back at home - or dead. Either is an acceptable option at this point.

"Excuse me-"

V shoots up from his seat as warm breath fans his ear. The voice, no louder than a whisper, sends a chill down his spine as it flows from the lips of its speaker like smooth honey. A far cry from the unpleasantly sweet tone that waitress threw on to hide her thinly veiled annoyance at seeing V still hogging an empty table. He looks up at the looming figure at his table side - jaw slack as his eyes adjust to the light that envelopes them.

"I don't mean to interrupt whatever it is you are doing, but would you happen to be a Mr. Vincent Carbone?"

V's mouth opens like the jaws of a dying animal fighting for its final breath. The person before him was dressed in date casual clothing. He stares at their exposed collar from the lower cut of their shirt and toned muscles from their sleeves. He rubs at his eyes. This... couldn't be them. He had to be looking at a model. V's standards were pretty low his own admission, but from the way they carried themselves down to their physical attributes proved they were way out of his league.

"Yes... um, that's me... Just Vince is fine."

They tighten their lips with a small nod. V makes a note of how soft they look compared to his own chapped skin. He follows their every move as they sit down in their seat across from him - wasting no time as they pull a black folder from the brief case brought with them. He watches as their calloused fingertips turn each page - pondering what they might feel like around his-

"So - are you this guys secretary or....."

V flinches as their eyes snap up at him - emotionless face plagued by a hint of annoyance at his query. "I can assure you I do all of my work by myself, Mr. Carbone.... From the information you've given me, it appears you have had a fued with this person for quite some time despite numerous attempts to block and/or have them removed from the group of individuals you play games with, and wish to escalate matters further."

Breathing through their teeth, they shut the folder - placing it flat on the table. "Had I not done my research into your person, I'd consider this whole thing."

V feels tightness in the crotch of his slacks at the use of that word. Mr. Carbone. He's been referred to as such before, but the way it rolls off their tongue- V picks up his glass of water and fits it to his lips, trembling hands spilling the cool liquid all over his white shirt.

"R....research... You... know about me?"

"Yes. It's common for me to look into the backgrounds of all my clients. Make sure they have the funds to pay for my services and take note of what I can take as collateral if anything comes up. I know for certain you've got the cash, but the rest is still up in the air."

V swallows hard. "I already had the records of our conversation scrubbed and it's not like we talked much anyway... I don't trust cops much either."

Amused, the hitman's expression shifts from its blank slate for the first time as they offer him a small smile. "Good boy...."

V slaps a hand over his mouth to stiffle the whimper that almost slips out. The hitman retrieves a small flip phone from their briefcase and slides it across the table.

"From now on you will contact me from this device only. We will discuss how what methods you prefer in due time. Do you remember what else we talked about when we spoke over the phone?"

"Yea.... Half up front, half went it's done." V pulls a crumbled envelope from his pocket and hands it to them - savoring the brief moment of contact between his sweaty hands and the heat of their skin through their gloves. They count the bills briefly before sliding it into their back pocket. What V wouldn't do to be that piece of paper.

"I look forward to working with you, Sir. Something tells me we'll be hearing a lot from each other in the future."

".....you promise?"

[phantomseptember]

This looked really fun! Tagging anybody who wants to, and also @hexnovo, @glassshard, @niknssuns, @themonstercals, @sleepgarden, @anguillif0rm, @thuviel, @phantomeus, @deltastic, and @xenianth

thank you visi!!!!!! <3

i'm tagging @demi-rep @jwatsons @no-surface-all-feeling and @mack-anthology-of-noise!!!!

[moongoopy]

The Fingernail Issue

c: gojo wasn't told of toji having a sibling leading him to wonder what kind of brother toji fushiguro was

c/w: Reader is adopted here, modern au, fluff, Toji's family are not a bunch of assholes, Reader is Toji's adoptive sibling, platonic and crack and humour ig

a/n: thought about this while making potato chips

"You have a sibling!? Why haven't you told us?"

"There was no need."

Toji slurped his noodles, ignoring the groan that he got from Gojo Satoru. Being in the same club with Gojo Satoru and a few other extras proved to be quite fun. He thought joining the basketball club with egocentric people would be infuriating but in this little group he managed to make friends suprisingly. He let Sukuna take his shrimp while he shrugs, right now; Gojo was quite adamant on getting to know his kid sibling that was in the same school as him, just two grades lower than him.

Geto slips in a joke if he wanted to court them or something since the white haired male next to him who was currently miming a camera with his two hands. Just the thought of another Fushiguro gave him the heebie jeebies, he was already offputting with how crass his personality was, his sibling would probably be the same. He gagged to Geto's comment, his hand on his chin when he thought about it.

"Unless, your sibling isn't a carbon copy of you and is way more better than you.."

Sukuna waved his hand to deny that sentence with a smirk and it received a nudge from Toji, they had this whispering thing they had going on to keep secrets away from Gojo and they giggle like two middle schoolers finding out about a dirty secret.

"Oh so you've met them, Ryoumen?" Nanami sipped his coffee, he had his notebook infront of him, consistently taking notes since he'd miss a day of school and its already biting him in the ass. The pink haired male shrugged, copying the same move as his friend that made Gojo click his tongue to.

"If you don't like them, why are you even curious?"

Gojo defended himself, "Its not that I dont like them, I barely met them. Its just that.."

Without noticing he painted an image of you even before seeing you in the flesh so maybe you weren't that bad. Gojo just cant imagine Toji having a sibling, would he be a doting brother? A strict one? Geto had stated stuff about dating and he barely batted an eye so it looked like to Gojo that Toji didnt really care about you but the next words that Toji said irked him.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind, Gojo. Mind sharing?"

Toji finished his noodles but thought of leaving some of the soup at the bottom, thats where all the seasonings sink to. Knocking his chopsticks into the bowl, he leaned forward to hear what Gojo had say. Gojo was the type to walk past the obvious and it was funny. Seeing THE Gojo Satoru struggle was entertaining.

"Nah, I'm good, I'll just see them myself." He bit on his lollipop, crunching up the last bits down his throat.

"Good luck finding them then," The black haired man got up from his seat with his tray and Gojo gasped. He hasn't even finished asking questions but knowing him, he loved avoiding questions like some personal torture he lets people go through.

"I'm bringing my mom to the clinic so I gotta run," Toji gruffly said, grabbing his jacket and he was so fast to slip away.

"Hey! Are you sure you're not using that as an excuse again? Me and Suguru legit saw Mrs. Fushiguro doing laps the other day!"

"Even did some cardio too.." Geto chuckled, remembering how Toji's mom proudly confessed how she had done a lot of stuff in one day. It made him smile while Gojo was sulking like a poodle beside him. Sukuna cleared his throat from eating and cleaned his plates up. He glanced at Gojo mischeviously.

"Well.. if you want to know one thing.." Sukuna dragged the silence a little longer before chuckling. "They're a bit of the same."

Sukuna too walks away, waving slyly to meet up for practise soon and Gojo scoffed. That sleazy bastard thought that information on you was new.

"That was sooo lame."

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

Toji had his hands on the wheel, listening to his mother talk about what should they have for dinner. In between talking about your favourites and if his dad was gonna come home, she recalled the days where you first came home.

Mama Fushiguro liked recalling this a lot and when many people were bored by this tale by now, Toji showed interest. He didn't admit though when he finally had a kid sibling in his house, he was actually pretty elated. The house was quiet on its own with himself but with you, it was like he had a friend.

When you are adopted, his peace wasn't disrupted at all but it was like yours was. You were in a completely new environment but not unfamiliar. You had been fostered before but he didn't pry into your past, there was no need to he thinks. It was normal for you to be distant even if his parents try to pry you out your shell like a cat with its nails stuck on the walls. You claw back to your comfort and wasn't all that talkative.

He didn't force you to talk or advise you on anything because it was clear you could handle yourself, you just like to keep to yourself more than his parents. But knowing this doesn't make the bond between you and him all the more stumped. He did attempted to eventhough his mother would nag about how it was barely anything; calling you down for dinner wasn't talking and hell, task dividing either!

Going to the same college didn't made you two any closer. He thought asking you about school was corny and didn't bother, he didn't really think much of it. By the tired look in your face, it was more than enough to know what you've been through but he was sure you stayed out of trouble because he made sure of that.

He took his usual route back to the car but realise you were a bit late. You weren't usually tardy, he was and even so you would still wait for him out of courtesy. He spun back around and thought of fetching you in an instant. Maybe now was the time he would open his mouth and talk to you.

There was a bit of a ruckus in one of the classrooms. If he didn't had sharp ears then he would've walked right past but that was one of the subject classes you attend and peeped in.

It was horrid.

He saw a bunch of hooligans messing up your notebooks and scraping it against the ground with their shoes. He recognized some of them as they squat at your level and taunt you.

It was some people in his fan club or whatever and he heard bits of how someone this puny couldn't be his sibling. You were clutching onto a bag and it wasn't just your bag that you were concerned of, the laptop that his parents gave were in it and the bag slides clean off and you were only protecting the laptop with your life. You didn't mind your keychains being ripped off and tossed about but amongst the stomping, the laptop was clutched tightly in your arms.

"Hey!"

His shout boomed across the room, shocking even you. You looked up to see your brother and he looked about ready to rip into the bullies with his bare hands. The group turned pale when they saw that their idol had caught them in the act of tormenting his little sibling and bit their tongue as their knees wobble.

The details of the lecture/threat of Toji wasn't heard as your ears buzz with fear. His touch made you snap back to reality, his rough hands helping you up gently and you wobble in your place.

"Holy shit.." You exclaimed in a huff to which he looked at you in an instant.

"You're really fucking loud when you're mad."

Silence settled to which the both of you laughed at in few seconds. This was the first time you didn't feel akward and commented so honestly. He patted your back and pick up your stuff, though soiled; atleast you were only shaken but unharmed.

The walk back to the car came naturally albeit a bit of limping in your step, you had twisted your ankle while running to catch the laptop before the others did and it sparked hellfire in Toji. His main priority now is atleast offering a crumb of comfort and heard out your reasoning for portecting a device rather than your skull.

"We could always buy you a new laptop,"

"I like the one now."

"Its not worth it breaking your skull in to protect it though."

To be honest, it wasn't about liking it. Just the big smiles on your adoptive parents' faces when they urged you to open the gift they bought you, it made your eyes all teary.

You weren't adopted before but you had to go through mean foster parents that had too much on their hands and that led to negliance to your needs. That led to several arguments and got you sent to the adoption center and it broke you, just the thought of connecting with another family made you numb.

But this family was so gentle with you. Even when you showed that there was no need for such kindness yet it wasn't that they coaxed you out of your shell but that they were so tender through their actions.

Toji notices the tears and scratches the back of his neck, he didn't read this in the big brother dummy book to know what to do if his little sibling cries. You had a distant look in your eyes before you realised you had reached the car with him.

Thankfully, both parents didn't notice the missing schoolbag or the agitated state that you're in. They were all smiles and Mamaguro was powdering on her face so it meant a family outing tonight.

You couldn't help but panic when you try to think of an explanation of your missing bag but Toji butted in on his parents conversations.

"Hey, Y/N wanted some ice cream before dinner, is that okay?"

Toji blurted out all of a sudden and you so badly wanted to deny it but he dug a deeper hole for you when the two agreed so quickly. They were excited that you finally requested something in a while and the car swerved to the nearest convenience store. Your brother adjusted himself in his seat, taking out his earphones and leaned a bit closer so the two infront won't hear.

"No worries, there's a store that sells bags beside the convenience store."

You huffed out a breath, your mouth feeling so dry and nodded to his words. He was a life saver.

Toji remembered how jittery you were when he suddenly made up some shit about you wanting ice cream that he couldn't help but chuckle outloud. The light from your eyes almost dimmed when you thought he would snitch on you. He parked close to the clinic, turning his back to grab an umbrella incase it rained. His mom pouted to his sudden chuckle and sighed.

"What are you laughing for? You're not ditching practise, yknow? You're going after you send me off at the clinic."

"Huh?" His mom showed a text conversation between her and Geto and scoffed. The lengths that man bun would go to have him show up at practise. That damn milf hunter-

-----------

"Hands up if your name is Y/N Fushiguro!!!" The class erupted in some noise upon seeing the popular duo stand near the doors of their class. When you heard your name being called, you reluctantly raised your hand; recognising who these two were.

The duo's faces fell for a moment, choking. Oh, you were adopted? Not in an offensive way obviously but Gojo might've heaved a sigh of relief. Atleast you weren't a splitting reflection of your brother, that would give him nightmares! Geto on the other hand realised why Toji would hide such a fact, an element of suprise if you will. He thought the two of them wouldn't find you out in an instant, did Toji thought so low of them? You raised a brow, wondering what they wanted.

They watched you walk out the classroom and Gojo adjusted his glasses. The graphic t-shirt and the style you had was a sublte influence from your brother.

"Well, well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

You had the exact relaxed expression like your brother except you slowly turn weirded out, why were they ogling you like this?

You took time to observe them head to toe subtly while Gojo yapped about the tale of how Toji didn't reveal that he had a younger sibling, they were lean and muscular and they had this obvious good cop bad cop duo energy. The white haired man sounded visibly upset that you were kept as a secret from the rest, was this some kind of facade to get to know you better? You shifted to one foot to another, stopping the music playing in your earpods and cleared your throat.

"Do you want to get with my brother or something orrr...?" Gojo didn't get to the point so you went straight in but due to their reactions, you might've miscalculated. Tilting your head, you pointed at Geto's painted nails and the earrings he had.

"And you.. are you two like gay or something?" You put your hands in defense, talking quickly before they get the wrong idea, "Hey, I don't discriminate. I just barely had any fans of my brother be male sooo..."

For once in their lives, Gojo was speechless and Geto had his eyes wide open like crazy.

One thing was for sure, anyting that was the apart of the Fushiguro family was a complete nightmare.

[avelera]

Oh GOD you, too, are an online lectures geek pls consider this your invitation to talk about favs--ones that stuck with you, current obsessions--the more the better! In trade, I'll tell you the two things I'm currently adoring: Yale's Open Course podcast on The Civil War to Reconstruction done by David Blight (man forgot more than ten other civil war historians know even if he mumbles *constantly*) and A History of Christianity by Diarmaid MacCulloch (so! worth the Prime BBC free trial <3)

Hiya! Don't mind if I do!

So 99% of the lectures I've watched lately are on the Great Courses Plus which was recently and stupidly renamed "Wondrium", which I find profoundly stupid because instead of just saying, "Hey, check out the Great Courses, yeah you can kinda guess what the streaming service offers," I have to instead explain what this nonsense term "Wondrium" means, ANYWAY, they've got lectures about basically everything.

Essentially, it's Netflix but for college lectures. YouTube has become so unreliable as far as what's actual information and what's completely made up or even racist conspiracy theory BS that I find it completely untrustworthy. Also, most documentaries are trying to prove something new, or offer a new angle on something, OR they're SO rudimentary and 101 that even for topics I know less about in history I tend to already know everything they're going to say.

So I pivoted to college lectures because 1) it's a whole series so like, dozens of hours I can just throw on in the background while doing something mindless and 2) I know it's going to be trustworthy, reliable, and provide me a baseline on a topic instead of some "new controversial spin" on it. Like, goddammit, sometimes I just want to better understand the history of Ancient Egypt, not your stupid theory about how they were secretly all space aliens or that we've got the carbon dating all wrong or whatever made up nonsense.

So, here's a list of some of my favorites!

Hannibal: The Military Genius Who Almost Conquered Rome - I consider myself about as near an expert as a non-academic can get on Rome and this lecture actually taught me some things, which is rare, so I recommend it as a fantastic deep dive!

How the Crusades Changed History is a pretty good short version that I recommend to anyone who enjoyed The Old Guard's Nicky and Joe BUT, for the best Crusades lecture, I'd recommend this History of the Crusades podcast. Sharyn Eastaugh is not just insanely informative, but her dry wit made me laugh out loud at least once an episode at the sheer hapless ineptitude of the Crusaders.

In the Wake of the Plague is a fantastic new lecture by Wondrium, the lecturer is amazing and it provides a lot of objective insights into how humans react to plagues that is VERY relevant to current events, BUT their lecture on **The Black Death in general is the one that got me obsessed with their lecture series. I watched it in the first week of Covid lockdown and let me tell you, having this super in-depth, objective look into how people behaved during the Black Death was incredibly valuable (and chilling) going into those years because it all played out with astonishing similarity. Also, anything by that lecturer, Dorsey Armstrong, is awesome. She's a Medievalist of the highest order. I also recommend her lecture on King Arthur.

**The Birth of the Modern Mind: The Intellectual History of the 17th and 18th Centuries - this one wins the award for "Lecture I thought most likely to bore me to tears that ended up being the single most fascinating I've heard in YEARS." Seriously, the way it explores the evolution of how we think in the modern era, through the philosophers who first conceived of these ideas, was jaw-droppingly fascinating. I also recommend it to writers of historical fiction and fantasy for a crash course, by proxy, of how to write people who think differently than you.

The Other Side of History: Daily Life in the Ancient World - I once had beef with a post here on Tumblr that claimed that academic Classicists don't care about slaves or normal people during the Roman Empire, which is just profoundly absurd. I pointed out this lecture to them if they actually wanted to learn more about the subject instead of complaining that an art history professor may not have been prepped for a lecture about the lives of enslaved people in Ancient Rome. If that is a subject of interest, this lecture is great.

The Real History of Pirates - a must-listen for OFMD fans who want to get an introduction to historical pirates and the history of pirates in literature, which "Our Flag Means Death" owes as much if not more to than the historical figures.

**Turning Points in Middle Eastern History - One of the first lectures I listened to and still one of my enduring favorites. It's the first one I picked up for writing my Old Guard fic, Lights Out, when I wanted to write Joe from a more informed angle and I learned so much.

Understanding Japan: A Cultural History - One of my favorite lectures based on format, the lecturer picks a literary work or cultural concept as the entry point to explore the timeline of Japanese history. It's a fantastic way to give a wider and more holistic look at each era, pairing it with a cultural touchstone.

Shout-out to "The Mysterious Etruscans" because I just think they're neat. The lecturer is also very good and I highly recommend his lecture on ancient cities as well which taught me a lot that I didn't know.

Also a shout out to, "Warriors, Queens, and Intellectuals: 36 Great Women before 1400" for its subject and the lecturer who is great and she also has a really fascinating talk about the history of Spain.

Ok, I THINK that's some of the top ones! ;D

[fafnir19]

Flying like a bird – isn't that ecological?

I looked out the window, the engine's hum vibrating through my chest. The swelling excitement of my upcoming voluntary ecological year in Brazil was tinged with a hint of guilt. Guilt for the environmental impact my flight was causing, despite the carbon offsets I had diligently purchased. As a gay man committed to supporting minorities and environmental conservation, the contradiction weighed heavily on my mind. Suddenly, the airplane lurched, and a wave of red wine splattered me, the liquid soaking through my clothes. "Oh no! I'm so sorry!" Karen, the stewardess, exclaimed, her voice laced with panic. "It's okay," I reassured her, trying to suppress a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. As I stood up, the wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to my skin, Karen offered a solution. "I can get you a new seat in first class, and also, here's a co-pilot's uniform to change into. It's the best I can do to make up for this mess." Grateful for the offer, I changed into the oversized uniform and made my way to the first-class cabin.

The extra legroom and plush seat were a welcome relief. As I settled in, the engine's roar filled the cabin, accompanied by the rustling of flight attendants bustling around. "Due to your new seat by the emergency exit, we'll need you to watch a special safety video," Karen informed me with a warm smile. I nodded, paying close attention to the lengthy safety demonstration that followed. My brow furrowed as I noticed the dated gender roles portrayed in the video, and the co-pilot's demeaning attitude toward the stewardesses. After the video finally concluded, I made a mental note to write a complaint to the airline. Karen approached me once more, offering a sweet welcome drink. The sugary liquid offered a momentary distraction from the unsettling video. As I sipped the drink, a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me, and before long, I drifted into a deep slumber. In my dream, I found myself face to face with the obnoxious co-pilot from the safety video, and a surge of frustration bubbled within me. "Hey, you!" I yelled, my voice echoing through the dream landscape. "How dare you treat women like that! You're insufferable! You can't treat women like that!" The co-pilot smirked. "Why not? They love it. Just look at them." Even in my own dream, I was plagued by his presence. My dream began to warp and twist, and I suddenly saw myself in the co-pilot's uniform, strutting through the cabin with an air of entitlement.

I awoke to the gentle touch of Karen, who smiled warmly at me. "You look great in that uniform, ready for your shift as a co-pilot?" she asked. I was astonished to find that the co-pilot's uniform now fit me perfectly, accentuating my athletic build.

I followed Karen to the cockpit, feeling elated at the unexpected turn of events. Taking my place in the cockpit, I began assisting the pilot as we navigated through the skies.

"Where's the usual co-pilot?" John asked, glancing at me with a curious expression. "I thought we could use a change," Karen replied cryptically, her eyes twinkling mischievously. I was eager to prove my capabilities in this unexpected role. The responsibility felt exhilarating, and I relished every moment of it. This was a dream come true - a chance to live out my lifelong ambition of being a pilot.

Suddenly, John excused himself to use the restroom, leaving me alone in the cockpit.

"So, Karen, what's the story behind all this?" John inquired. Karen's laughter filled the space, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, there is a special safety video and a welcome drink that alters the minds and bodies of our ordinary passengers as we have a lack of co-pilots" Karen explained, a smirk playing on her lips. "It's a compromise between the union and the marketing department," Karen explained. "They want the co-pilots to be the epitome of masculinity and to appeal to a wealthy clientele. But it's all about appearances." John's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?" "The union wants heterosexual men who can charm women in every location they land," Karen elaborated. "While the marketing department wants them to be attractive to gay passengers. They've settled on a strange blend of both." "In any case, he is a particularly sweet co-pilot," John remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Suddenly, an idea sparked within me, fueled by the of the safety video. I turned to John, my expression determined. "I need a break. There's someone in row 10 I want to upgrade." "Upgrade?" John raised an eyebrow, his expression mirroring a mix of surprise and amusement. "To the Mile High Club," I declared boldly, the words escaping my lips before I could fully process the audacity of my request. John's laughter echoed through the cockpit, the sound mingling with the steady hum of the engines. "Well, well, looks like our sweet co-pilot is ready to make his mark."

As I sauntered down the aisle, I couldn't contain my laughter at the thought of what was to come. Reaching row 10, I leaned in close to the passenger, my smooth voice sending shivers down her spine as I effortlessly charmed her. "Excuse me," I began, suppressing the upheaval of conflicting emotions. "I have a special upgrade for you." The woman's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze flitting between me and the open door to the lavatory. "An upgrade?" "To the Mile High Club," I clarified, my voice tinged with certainty. The young woman's laughter mixed with mine as she eagerly accepted my invitation, a mischievous glint in her eye. We disappeared into the lavatory, our hushed giggles mingling with the steady rhythm of the airplane as we indulged in our risqué endeavor. Moments later, I re-emerged, the satisfied grin on my face indicating the successful initiation of the newest member into the Mile High Club. Returning to the cockpit, I took my place with a buoyant energy, the satisfaction of a successful mission evident in my demeanor.

Karen and John exchanged knowing smiles, understanding the mischievous spark in my eyes. "Done with your break already? You work fast," Karen teased, unable to contain her amusement. "I had to make sure our newest member received a warm welcome," I replied with a playful wink.

The plane landed smoothly in Rio de Janeiro and I couldn't shake the surreal feeling of my dream. After I got out, Karen handed me a business card with a mischievous smile. “If you are interested, the airline is happy to offer you pilot training,” she said. With shaking hands and full of excitement, I accepted the card. I ended my voluntary ecological year before it even started and began my pilot training.

[misfits1a]

ACCORDING TO YOU. reki kyan x reader

angst; fluff

posted. 8 aug 2024 (originally posted 24 may 2023)

notes. AHHH my first fic for my beloved, reki kyan!! the mall they’re at is the aeon mall okinawa rycom. if my research is correct, ramune is a carbonated soft drink, chūka is japanese chinese cuisine, and itameshi is italian-japanese food

also, i was really fighting with myself for a while about if i wanted to have a side blog specifically for my writing (and i originally posted this fic on that account), but i decided i'd keep all my stuff on one blog so alas, i must repost

cw. a JERKWAD of an ex! language. unedited

wc. 1.5k

you’re not exactly sure how you ended up here.

one moment, you and reki are walking around murasaki sports and the next, the two of you are sitting across from your ex and his new girlfriend— hidaka rina, if you remember correctly— at kamakura, waiting for your order.

it’s awkward.

daichi uses his pinky nail to pick at something in his mouth. hidaka scratches absentmindedly at her napkin, her dark waves covering half of her face. she’s pretty, you have to admit– pale skin, cocoa eyes, long lashes, perfect height and thin.

reki yawns— obnoxiously, in daichi’s opinion; adorably, in yours. reki throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you in close to his side. the bubbly skater leans in, his lips practically grazing your ear to whisper something.

you laugh at the joke.

neither of you see it, but daichi scowls. hidaka, however, does catch it and rolls her eyes. daichi could be so disgusting sometimes and for no reason other than he felt like it.

“so, reki,” daichi starts.

reki hums, just barely loud enough for you to hear, as he pulls away from you, smiling his trademark sunny smile at your ex in acknowledgment.

“how did you meet y/n?”

“oh, she works with a friend of mine!” reki says.

he loves this story— it was love at first sight for him, he believes. he and his best friend langa, along with another friend of theirs, miya, had arrived at the flower shop to ask hiromi for a ride to s later. when they’d walked in, your workmate had groaned, obviously knowing what was coming (and you’d just been confused), but as reki opened his mouth to ask the question, his eyes had drifted behind shadow and there you were, arranging some flowers. 

miya would say he had hearts in his eyes, it was so obvious. immediately, he’d abandoned his question and went over to where you were working, struggling to start up a conversation. you’d laughed at his flusteredness, much to his chagrin, but then asked his name. at hearing your voice for the first time, he’d thought, “marry me”, but when you and langa and miya and hiromi busted out laughing, he’d realized he’d said it aloud.

thankfully you took pity on him, and offered a date first. the rest is history.

daichi quirks a brow, grabbing his bottle of ramune and taking a sip. “a friend of yours works at a lingerie store?”

for just a moment, reki’s confused. but then he remembers you telling him you worked at a lingerie store before you worked at tulip.

you sigh. “i work at tulip now. the flower store.”

“oh, i’ve been there a few times!” hidaka says. “i always get my mom flowers from there. the manager lady is really nice.” she turns to reki as she continues, “i’m assuming your friend is the big orange haired guy?”

“yeah, shad—” he coughs, catching himself. “hiromi.”

“he’s nice,” hidaka hums.

daichi scoffs low in his throat, taking another sip of ramune. he sets the bottle down. he sucks his teeth. “can i ask you another question, reki?”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows shoot up in questioning. he doesn’t like the tone of daichi’s voice, but says “sure” anyway.

“what do you like about y/n?”

the sound of your given name coming from his mouth after the shit he put you through the two years you were together sends a wave of disgust through your veins. under the table, you clench a hand.

reki is so taken aback by the question, all he can say is, “huh?”

“well, when i was with y/n . . .” daichi starts, leaning back against the booth. daichi has always had a craving for causing trouble, and you can tell he wants to start some by the glint in his eyes. he inhales a deep breath, then blows it out. “well, she’s boring, is she not? quite moody? plus, when we were together, it never seemed like she could do a damn thing for herself.”

you sit in silent fury. reki’s speechless. even hidaka’s mouth is dropped open in shock.

daichi straightens his shoulders, scrunches up nose, and continues in a higher pitched voice, in an attempt to copy you, you assume: “‘daichi, take out the trash.’ ‘daichi, can you do the dishes?’ ‘can you help me bring the laundry out?’” he drops his shoulders and his voice returns to his own. “and nothing ever pleased her, either, you know? i’d do the dishes, and she was upset i didn’t do the pots and pans. i’d take out the laundry, but i didn’t ready the detergent for her.

“can’t make up her mind for anything. i’d come over and we’d decide to watch a movie, she always grabbed like five movies to make me choose from. when we’d order takeout, it was always ‘tacos! ooh, chūka! wait no, itameshi!’”

reki finally regains his composure and opens his mouth to speak, but daichi, ever the pot stirrer, continues on.

“plus, she always chose her friends and family over me. on my seventeenth birthday, her friend airi injured her ankle in a gymnastics accident and she took her to the emergency clinic. and when her brother was graduating kindergarten, after i broke my ankle, she went to his graduation instead of coming to visit me at home after she said she would.”

you’re absolutely bewildered, and you feel like crying. which would only attest to his “moody” claim, huh?

“what the fuck?” hidaka mutters. not because you chose taking care of your friend over going to daichi’s seventeenth birthday celebration, and not because you chose your brother’s kindergarten graduation over visiting him after he injured his ankle. but over the actual audacity that he had the nerve to hold a grudge over that.

reki slams his hands down on the table, pulling himself up. you’ve only ever seen the look on his face a couple of times— hell, not even. upset was not an expression your boyfriend made often, usually the cheery one.

“why don’t you shut up?” he snarls.

“what?” daichi chuckles coldly.

“you’re a fricking dick; no wonder y/n dumped your ass.” reki continues. “you’re the stupid one. how could you say that shit about someone you once claimed to love? you never loved her— you loved having control over her.”

daichi rolls his eyes, unaffected.

“what kind of jackass would get mad at someone for choosing their family over them? are you telling me you wouldn’t?”

“no, i would,” daichi says.

reki balks for a minute at the blatant hypocrisy. he shakes his head before continuing, “and you’re wrong! y/n is incredible! she’s one of the funniest people i know– maybe not in telling jokes, but in her own way, she’s funny. and she’s beautiful, inside and out! i love that she cares so much about her friends and family. it’s amazing! she’s smart, and kind, and independent, and no wonder she hates asking for help even when i want to give it to her! i’m glad she dumped your ass, because if i don’t deserve her, you sure as hell didn’t.”

reki grabs your hand and pulls you out of the booth.

“come on, babe, we’re leaving.”

“without paying?”

reki doesn’t say anything, just looks at hidaka and says, “you should too,” before taking you out of the restaurant.

it’s only when you two are in kahiko, looking at all the shirts that remind you of kojiro, that you speak up: “thank you, reki. for standing up for me. i clearly couldn’t do it myself.”

his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you to him. he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“i knew you could,” reki starts. “but it was my chance to show you how much better i am than that jerk. he’s the stupid and useless one. not you. never you.”

“agreed,” comes a panting voice from behind the two of you. you turn to see hidako, cheeks flushed and a shy smile on her face. she looks at reki, “i took your advice. i don’t think he’s too happy we left him with the check but after everything he said, it’s the least we could do, right?”

reki chuckles.

“well,” hikada huffs. “i’ll see you two around. i know you didn’t mean to, but it probably would have been much longer until i saw daichi’s true colors if we hadn’t run in to you today, so thanks.”

then she turns and walks away.

you wrap your arms around reki, snuggling your face into his sweatshirt. he laughs, patting the small of your back.

“i love you, reki. so much. you know that right?”

you feel him nod. “you’re everything i’ve ever wanted, y/n. i hope you know that.”

you hum, looking up at him, a content smile gracing your features. “tell me again?”

he laughs again and pulls back, gently shoving you away. “i love you more than anything, y/n,” he pats your head. “hey so, will you come to s with me tonight?”

© 2023 misfits1a. all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim my work as yours; please credit if you want to repost my work in a fic rec

[thedailybullshit]

RDR2 Incorrect Quotes pt. 33

Arthur: Sibling relationships are weird.

Arthur: Like, I’d give my life for John in a shootout without a second thought, but there’s no way in hell that I’d give him a single bite of my stew.

John: *sweating* Abigail, there’s something I’ve wanted to ask you -

Abigail: Finally! You’re proposing!

John: How’d you know?

Abigail: John, you’ve dropped the ring five times during this boat ride.

Abigail: I even picked it up once.

Dutch: Newsflash! I have no plan.

Dutch: Everything I’ve done in the last twenty, maybe twenty-five years has been me making stuff up as I go along.

Arthur: Dutch, stop! You’ve gone mad with power!

Dutch: Well of course I have.

Dutch: Have you ever tried going mad without power?

Dutch: It’s boring.

Mary-Beth: Date someone who will drag you outside at 3am to look at the stars.

Karen: If anyone, and I mean ANYONE, wakes me up at 3am to go look at the damn sky, they will be removed indefinitely from my life.

Arthur: It’s a real pity I’m not made of carbon.

Charles: Explain.

Arthur: I could become a literal diamond from all the pressure Dutch puts on me.

Young Hosea: Did you know I can steal anything?

Young Dutch: *thinks* Except my heart.

Young Hosea: You look great, by the way.

Young Dutch: *mutters* Fuck.

Albert: Ouch, Arthur, where did you get that bruise? It looks painful.

Arthur: *thinking back to when he walked into a tree after Charles winked at him from across camp*

Arthur: . . . I’m in a gang.

Hosea: We’re having a baby.

Any given member of the Gang: That’s good for yo-

Dutch: *slams down adoption papers & a pen* It’s you, sign here.

Dutch: I think I have this thing where I need everybody to think I’m the greatest, the quote-unquote, “best gang leader in the west”. And if they aren’t completely knocked out and dazzled and kind of intimidated by me, then I don’t feel good about myself.

[milligramspoison]

Killjoy Legacy Challenge

Hey! You! Are you a My Chemical Romance fan who wants their sim to live the Killjoy life? Or are you just a sims player who wants their sim to live a post-apocalyptic lifestyle? Well…we may have the right challenge for you!

This is the Killjoy Legacy Challenge, a challenge based around Danger Days, the 4th studio album by My Chemical Romance, it’s music videos, and The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys comics, California and National Anthem, written by MCR’s lead singer Gerard Way and Shaun Simon…and maybe some headcanons by fans as well.

This challenge was created by my best friend Niamh, who is @frankierosbackbends on here, and myself- we’re both huge MCR fans who love the Killjoys universe and the sims!

Apologies if this may not be the best- this is our first time doing something like this.

General Rules:

You can use money cheats, but not to an extent. You can use freerealestate on to move onto the lot you desire but that’s it. You’re in the apocalypse, you’re gonna have to work hard for your money- or carbons, in the Killjoy universe.

You can be the Killjoy of each generation, but you don’t have to- you can also create your own sim! Just as long as you follow the rules of each generation and all, you’re good to go!

You’re in the apocalypse, your kids won’t be going to school. You can either use mods for this or not send your kids to school. Be careful though, the game will threaten to take them away if they get a grade F!

The partner for each generation doesn’t matter as they aren’t a part of this challenge unless specified.

Feel free to create a storyline with each generation! As long as you follow the rules of each generation, you’re all good to go and go wild with your imagination!

Keep the lifespan of a sim on normal.

With all of that out of the way, let’s get into each generation and their rules!

Generation One: Mike Milligram

You always loved riding around with your friends and soulmate, blasting your music, especially the Ramones. You adored the Ramones. You could be pretty annoying about it too. You also love going adventures with your friends- anything to distract yourself from the apocalypse.

Traits - Adventurous, Music Lover, Perfectionist

Aspiration - Successful Lineage

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Date but never marry your soulmate

Have only one child

Master the charisma skill

Generation Two: Val Velocity

You’re an asshole. And you’re pretty irrational. Those are the two best ways to describe you. You don’t think before you do things and you don’t think before you say something. Your friends and family tolerate you (somehow) but you can definitely be difficult to be around. Except for your best friend. They’re pretty cool, you guess.

Traits - Mean, Jealous, Self-Absorbed

Aspiration - Public Enemy

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Make a best friend that has at least one same trait as you

Have at least 5 enemies

Have 3 close friends (excluding your family)

Master the mischief skill (for mean interactions)

Generation Three: Show Pony

You just adored rollerblading! It was always hard to get those things off your feet. You either rollerbladed down the road or always took yourself to the abandoned roller rink. It was a big difference from your parents who were…well, y’know. You loved them but they could be difficult. Anyways- you also don’t talk much. You necessarily aren’t an introvert, but you were always on the move and didn’t have the time to talk to anyone.

Traits - Active, Dance Machine, Cheerful

Aspiration - Bodybuilder

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Master the athletic, skating, and dance skills (skating is a hidden skill- the way to tell if your sim is improving is by how well they can skate. Stating this for those who may not know!!)

Have only 3 close friends other than your family

Flirt with at least 3-5 people before finding your partner

Generation Four: DJ Hot Chimp

You just loved music, all kinds of music. You always heard something different whenever your parent took you to the roller rink. Because of that, it eventually turned into a dream of being a DJ. Luckily, there were a few abandoned clubs across the desert that Killjoys loved to party in where you could live your dream. You were loud with bright colors and loud with your music.

Traits - Party Animal, Music Lover, Outgoing

Aspiration - Party Animal

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Master the DJ mixing skill

Meet your partner at one of your sets

Be best friends with your child

Generation Five: Cherri Cola

You were the introvert of your family…your very extroverted family. Yes, you loved them, you loved them a lot. But they definitely could be a lot sometimes. While you did pick up some of their interests such as music, you fell in love with books. You just read and read…it’s your favorite thing to do, besides writing poetry. Despite being a world certified introvert, you’re also the best shot in the desert. You looked around your enemies, not at them.

Traits - Bookworm, Loner, Socially Awkward

Aspiration - Nerd Brain

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Master the logic and wellness skills

Write in your journal everyday/every other day of your life (this will act as you writing your poems)

Must have Great Storyteller trait (can be bought in the reward store- needed pack is Outdoor Retreat)

Read and tuck your child in every night

Generation Six: Jet Star

You were always calm and the most rational one. It took a lot to piss you off. And when you did get pissed off…well, it wasn’t pretty. It always caught everyone off guard. You’re the most mature of the group, besides your parent, and treat others how they would like to be treated. You’re the one-eyed hero that always tried to keep everyone levelheaded…and alive.

Traits - Proper, Genius, Self-Assured

Aspiration - Inner Peace

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Master the guitar and charisma skills

Complete the Artistic Prodigy aspiration as a child

Earn at least 3 positive character value traits

Generation Seven: Fun Ghoul

You’re the biggest goofball of them all. You love pulling pranks and being mischievous. It was the one thing that brought joy (or anger) to others. Your joy can practically light up a room. You also love building things with any scrap that you can find. You’re also a bit clumsy, which doesn’t help when you’re building, uh…explosives.

Traits - Goofball, Clumsy, Outgoing

Aspiration - Chief of Mischief

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Master the mischief, handiness, and comedy skills (master the mischief skill for mischievous interactions)

Have a 100/100 relationship with your partner

Create animal sculptures on the woodworking table to give to your child

Generation Eight: Kobra Kid

You’re the master of having a resting bitch face. And you also wear sunglasses pretty much 24/7. So no one can tell if you’re happy, mad, sad- any emotion that a person can feel basically. You’re also pretty fascinated with snakes, rocks/crystals, cameras, and motorcycles, one of the few things that brings joy to your life.

Traits - Loner, Hot-Headed, Geek

Aspiration - The Curator

Career - Odd Job

Rules:

Have at least 5 flings

Have one failed relationship but remain friends

Collect crystals (you don’t have to complete the collection)

Master the photography skill

Generation Nine: Party Poison

Your color is yellow, which is surprising, considering you have vibrant red hair and are a hothead. Despite this flaw though, you’ve managed to make a decent amount of friends and best of all…find your soulmate. And make some enemies too. All of them make the better side of you come out more…except your enemies, obviously. You also love expressing yourself whenever you get the chance too, whether it’s the clothes you wear, the stuff you sing, or the stuff you paint/draw.

Traits - Hot Headed, Creative, Ambitious

Aspiration - Painter Extraordinaire

Career - Odd Jobs

Rules:

Must marry a goofball

Must have one ex boyfriend/girlfriend

Must adopt one child

Make at least 5 good friends and enemies

Master the singing and painting skills

Generation Ten: The Girl

Growing up you were always told that you were the next hope for this world. At first, you never really understood why. Yeah, you didn’t have a typical childhood, but your parents always tried to make it the best childhood possible. But as you got older, you started to understand more and more. You were gonna be the hero of this world.

Traits - Insider, Cat Lover, Self-Assured

Aspiration - StrangerVille Mystery

Career - Odd Jobs

Rules:

Adopt a stray black cat (can be created in cas if one isn’t found in game)

Defeat The Mother

Master the StrangerVille Mystery aspiration

Again, apologies if this isn’t the best, this is our first time doing something like this. But if you do decide to play this, we hope you have fun! :)

[iraprince]

soooo stoked to have FINALLY gotten myself a lightbox... now i can still take advantage of the stuff i find rly helpful abt working digitally for layouts (perspective rulers, etc), but then print that layout out and do the bulk of the drawing traditionally, which i enjoy way more

(also im carbon dating myself here but the last time i was seriously pining after a lightbox was when i was a teenager and i remember them being HUGE. like, actually A Box With Lightbulbs In It. this one is like 1/8th of an inch thick + im geeking out. this is a flying car 2 me)

[stevie-petey]

The anon that sent in the time traveling thing made me think of something. What if in the future Jonathan and Nancy's kid becomes best friends with Steve and readers kid? Like I feel like they'd live in different states but come back to Hawkins to see family at the same time and their kids just click like how reader and Jonathan did all those years ago.I also feel like those kids would be repulsed that their parents dated. I feel like Jonathan is the kind of guy to have a carbon copy kid. Like exactly like him, shy and nerdy. I feel like Steve and bug would have a perfect mix tbh.

I've also thought about the future children getting sent back to the past and just being horrified. Like imagine seeing your "uncle Jonathan" kiss your mom. Or see your teenage dad sneak into your mom's room through her window. Or watch your dad helplessly pine over your mom, and watch your mom get her heart broken by her best friend. They'd be disgusted, truly traumatized. Idk I'm just constantly daydreaming about your story and these are the kinds of scenarios that pop into my little brain.

PLEASE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

their kids would 1000% be besties even though they def live in different states once theyre older. unsure where, but id definitely move outta hawkins tbh.

jancys kids would be astounded that their parents were at some point attracted to/in love with bug and steve because like. theyre so emotional and dramatic. meanwhile jancy hasnt had one emotional outburst their entire childhood and theyre FLOORED.

theyd also be shocked because jancys kids are more lowkey, calm and shy kids but very confident and intelligent. maybe two kids, possibly just the one. meanwhile bug and steves kids ,,, dear god. theyd have a LOT of kids and all the kids would be pure lovely chaos. theyd tease their parents and gag and think its all so gross and weird and the adults are just like ,,,, it was a different time, then

bonus:

one of bugs kids: mom why were you so in love with uncle jon ? no offense, but hes kinda weird

bug: yeah, i look back and wonder that myself

jonathan: im right here you know

steve: your mom needed some sense knocked into her

nancy: i agree

jonathan: now what the fuck

also i love ur lil brain and the fact that u think about my story sm i will kiss u

[casa-anachar]

Drosophilia Tempusfugit

(Written for @inklings-challenge 2024, this story will also be attributed to "Elena Gutierrez", one of my OC's in Now School - who needs to turn this story in for her creative writing class.)

“Linda, can you get the lights on this side of the lab? I can't read my test strip.”  That would be my labmate Memo, looking up from his bench hopefully. I don't know why he thinks that having half the lights out makes it easier to do work, but because the whole lab has motion-sensing lights, I can't just tell him to do it himself.

With a wince of disgust, I walk around the fume hood with the … thing that seems to be producing fruit flies spontaneously.  We sealed the fume hood, and then we sealed the exhaust on the roof, but the flies keep appearing. And dying. Memo and I have a bet going that whoever figures out where they're coming from doesn't have to clear out the fume hood.

I hope he's as clueless as I am.

I press the bottom button on the lab door control panel. “Memo what are you even testing?

“I wondered if flies would yield any sort of acid, like ants do. These? Four test strips and they all look very Blue.”

I pretend like I didn't get a pity-B-minus in chemistry last spring and stare at him. “Yeah, yeah, the ant-acid, we've all seen it. What does that have to do with anything?”

“You're still running the gene sequencing and you're sure these are Drosophilia Melanogaster?”

“I mean, yeah, although they behave like they're super-dehydrated. With the samples I take for the microscope, the water practically vanishes into the tissue slices.”

Maybe I've said too much because he gazes at the middle distance like he's figuring something out. Time to see if I can distract him. “Tell me where Jess found this thing again?”

Memo scowls a bit. “I hear she bought it at an arts-and-crafts fair up at the Balloon Fiesta a few weeks back, but she gave it to me when the flies started showing up in her lab across the quad.”

“What is it supposed to be?”

“I think she said it's an arrow.”

I tilt my head sideways and squint at the fume hood. I guess it's shaped like an arrow, though if I smashed it with a hammer it would make a pretty good Himalayan salt lamp. “What research does her group do?”

Memo scowls some more. “They're looking for something more accurate than carbon-dating, or better for recent specimens. I think she told me they're trying out Sodium-22 instead.”

I hear the lab door handle open. I'm glad it's noisy because the alternative is getting jump-scared by somebody behind me, though the only other person who comes to this lab has begun to creep me out anyway. It's Dr. Enrique, who is Memo's PhD advisor and my boss, and lately he's been a little touchy - and I don't mean anxious. I notice that I've turned around in my seat, making my shoulders less convenient to reach.

“Oh, we got some mood lighting in here! Linda, you find any unique genes yet?”

I shake my head.

“Guillermo, do I need to keep this on the dee-ell so Jess doesn't get jealous?”

“You saying you know something that I don't, boss?” Memo covers a blush with another scowl.

“Look, if your nena from the physics department comes in with a rock that disproves Louie Pasteur, I'd gladly let her be second author.”  He's looking at Memo as he crosses the room. I rotate again to keep facing Dr. Enrique. “I'm telling you, my single grad students are never as efficient as the ones who make out on a regular basis. Oh, and don't forget Friday, you're on for crackers and marshmallows.”

— [later] —

I lean against the dining room doorway and wait for Memo to finish loading up his cafeteria tray.  I feel a bit sorry for him also being bothered by Dr. Enrique, and it's not like I can ever use all 120 swipes on this meal plan by myself.  He grabs a second plastic-wrapped cinnamon cake slice and starts toward me, and I pull my ID out to swipe twice.

We head to a high table facing the gym next door, and he doubles back to the drink fountain after we set our trays down.  At least it's nice that he knows I like root beer, but since it looks like the blue raspberry juice lever is working today, he comes back with two cups and begins guzzling his antifreeze-lookalike beverage. I try to ignore this.

“Sorry about this afternoon. Enrique's usually not like that.”

A few seconds go by before I realize I'm grateful that he hasn't looked up at me, with my half-chewed salad bite on full display. Why the hell would he defend our boss?  I quickly swallow and ask,  “Tell me, does he give you surprise shoulder massages too?"

“Only at the backyard firepit pa-” He looks up at me, with my face stuck between surprise and anger.

“Look, I know I'm just a sophomore and this is my first work-study, but I don't think it's cool that this is going on and I didn't ask for it, let alone have a chance to say no. I just wanted to learn how virus research works, and now I'm not even getting to do that because we have to deal with all these -” I pause as a large fly buzzes past me and circles my root beer - “damn-” i clap at it with my napkin in one hand “mystery-” i turn and clap a second time “flies!"

On the third clap, I finally catch the fly, and tear off the corner of the napkin where its partly squashed body is stuck. I get up and toss it in the trash, loop past the hand sanitizer dispenser, and grab a different napkin to clean my other hand.  It's a small victory.  Back at the table, Memo is staring out the window at the patio railing. I look closer to see if somebody from the parkour club is trying to scale the 9 foot jump to make it over the handrail, and sure enough, here comes a girl with a blond pixie cut who makes it to the top of the concrete, hooks a hand on the top rail, and smiles and waves at Memo, and then spots me and vanishes before I can tell her reaction.

“Jess?” I ask.

“Yup.” Memo turns back to me and asks, “Do you know her a bit?"

I shake my head. I've seen her around my dorm, though I think she's an R. A. downstairs so I don't run into her as often. “What is up with you two anyway?”

He sighs. “We went on a couple dates this past spring, like ‘drive up to the city for a museum and a nice dinner' type stuff. I realized after the second date that she's not really lighting the spark for me, she gets manic too often for that. But we're still in the same friend group, and people think we're cute together? Maybe that part's just a side effect of Enrique's parties.”

Ugh, again with the parties. My roommate last year was all about them, and the second-hand effects of her Saturday morning ritual hangovers really wore me out - I was secretly pretty happy when she transferred out at winter break.  I consider asking Memo if people ever grow out of that phase, but now he's watching the nerdy sitcom on the TV in the corner, and we'll probably do this dinner again next week.

 —

Memo is staring at the fume hood when I walk in Friday morning.  I only have an hour before my lecture, but I still have to wrap up the results on my tests from two days ago.

He speaks first.  “Can you go to 224’s closet and get the shop vac?”  He tosses me a set of keys.

“Are you admitting defeat?"

“I'm calling a truce.  The dead flies are so thick I can't see the floor of the fume hood anywhere, and our bet seems like a dangerous situation there.”

I cross the hallway, find the J224 key, and try it in the lock. It doesn't turn, so I look up and realize i've gone the wrong direction, loop around to a different hallway, past the construction zone plastic sheeting, and start counting doorways.  222, 223, 226, wait, okay, it's time to go yell at Memo to get his own damn shop-vac now.  This is the wrong weekend, and next semester's intro to endocrinology elective can't come soon enough - I swear I'm gonna figure out how to take these PMS symptoms down a notch or three.

I re-enter the lab from the other door after a couple deep breaths, and squint hoping to avoid tears.  Memo turns around as I say, with an angry tone, “Your request took me through the part of this building that makes no damn sense."

Memo slaps his forehead. “Oops, I forgot, that's the hallway that's closed right now, but we can take the back way through 223.  Can I have my keys back?"

I stick out my tongue, still glaring, and he raises his hands. “Fair enough, follow me."

Three minutes later, we're staring at the worlds creepiest revolving door.  It's this four-foot diameter opaque tube with no lights inside.  We had stepped in, grabbed the door handles, and turned the tube until the door faced room 225, wandered through the dark room to try the closet there, you get the point.  We can't roll the vacuum through the door because there's a steel ring on the floor to hold the tube in place.  Now we lift up the vacuum, and Memo swears as the vacuum handle on his side turns out to be a latch and the bucket spills a bunch of dust on him.

“So much for a clean getaway?” I ask, finally seeing a moment in the absurdity to giggle.

“Just [cough] let me swing [cough] past my locker [cough] on the w[cough] ay back.” He swings the door around through the darkness, and more carefully this time, we hoist the vacuum out into the blessedly well-lit room 223.

I'm by myself in the lab and the vacuum cleaner is noisy, but it seems to be doing its job when i suddenly notice a couple slivers of paper in the front corner of the fume hood box amid all the dead flies.  It's also too loud to hear the door handle of the lab, so when an arm reaches over my shoulder to lift the glass door a bit higher, I jab my elbow backward as hard as I can and the hose falls out of the fume hood, but not before sucking up the papers.

In my panic I manage to turn off the vacuum cleaner in time to hear Memo, doubled over behind me.  “Ow! Crap, what —”

I take a couple more deep breaths. “Oh. I'm sorry that turned out to be a rougher lesson than I wanted it to be, but do you get it now? If Dr. Enrique had done that to me, I wouldn't be sorry. I'd probably also be fired, and/or talking to Campo."

Memo nods quietly.  Our campus police department is a mixed bag when it comes to actually following up on assault reports, but they hired a couple ladies this year who aren't shy about driving people down past the plaza to the sheriff's office in handcuffs.

I sit down and take a few more deep breaths, and then remember that I need to get those papers back out of the vacuum.  I undo the latch on the bucket, and to my luck, right on top is a triangular scrap of brittle napkin with a squashed fly on it.

“Memo?” my voice breaks a bit, “do you remember the other night when I caught a fly on my napkin?"

“Yeah, yeah, I got the point. You don't need to keep elbowing me in the gut about it."

“No, it's really not that, I think this is that fly."

“How do you know?”

"The napkin scrap is torn the exact same way. It's not a perfect triangle, and this bit is the size of my fingernail.”

"So, crazy coincidence aside, what do we have, fly Valhalla in our fume hood? Is that what the sculpture does?"

I stifle a laugh. “Okay, I don't know, but there's one more potential clue, and I need a favor from you."

“Go on?"

“There's one more piece of paper that got sucked into the bucket, and I need you to dig it out.”

Two minutes later, Memo is taking off gloves, and I'm chewing a few sticks of mint gum to keep my stomach calm.  I smooth out the crumpled paper and flick the fly guts away.  “I think it's a receipt fragment.  You keep these, right? "

“Not really, but I know Jess does.  Why do you ask? "

“I just thought if we found one that looked similar, we'd know where?...when? it came from.  I wanna say it's from Smith's, I see grocery stuff on here."

“See if there's a credit card number, they usually put the timestamp near it."

We bonk heads while staring at all the numbers, until Memo points at a date and time, two days after Christmas.

Of this year.

Almost two months in the future.

I find my voice first. “So we have flies? From the future? Time traveling flies?"

Memo finds a voice, but it sounds way more robotic and emotionless than usual. “Please tell me you can find the specific fly guts you cleared off this paper."

I point to the small fly corpse on the gray countertop and thank God somebody wiped down this bench last night. This is still too weird. But Memo grabs a test tube, some tweezers, and a cork, and gently stores the mundane dead bug that we now have wildly improbable documentation for. “So we have time flies … and they like an arrow.”

Two live bugs buzz past our faces as we sit folded on the floor with laughter. I catch a breath and offer, “Hey, what if somebody sneezed on this bug? Would it carry the virus back in time?”

Memo pulls himself to his feet and shuts the fume hood door to keep the rest of the flies inside. Still gasping, he offers, “I mean, you said you wanted to do virus research, and ‘Flu season is just around the corner’” he sings to match the jingle that our store's PA system plays every 5 minutes now that they have a fully staffed pharmacy.

I look down at my watch. “Crap, I've got two minutes before my statistics class in Cramer Hall, rain check?”

Memo smiles. “If you're back by 11, I'll still be setting everything up.”

[notesfrompanihida]

What's your ideal lover? Do you seek certain qualities in someone? Do you have any preferences for personalities or appearances?

ill add a few images below in terms of my physical preferences

body type has to be fit and lean. long hair for anyone who identifies as a man is mandatory, the longer the better. tattoos!!!!! loads of them!! i have a lot of other things i enjoy in terms of fashion, but the images would be the baseline for daily wear (corpse paint every day would be cool but not even i can pull that off due to sensory issues). they must enjoy wearing suits and being in one for me. if theyre not getting off to me drooling over them i dont want it

im bisexual so i dont care for gender, however i do have a slight preference for cis men solely for the fact that their dick is attached to them and they can use it on me wherever and whenever. THIS IS A PREFERENCE, NOT A MUST

ideally, my partner must have the same disorders i do, doesnt need to be all of them. sounds horrible but im not new to dating and it seems like people who are not mentally ill in the same way as cluster bs will never truly understand someone with bpd or npd due to the drastic differences in how our brains work. think back to your math classes, if you put two mentally ill people together the mental illness should cancel out. me and my cluster b partner could still have fights and arguments, but at least both of us will know exactly why the other is reacting the way they are. there wont be the same kind of judgement from the other person as there would be from someone who doesnt suffer with personality disorders

on the topic of disordered, my partner must have the same or very similiar kinks/fetishes that i do, for obvious reasons. im not vanilla and will never be. if someone cant handle that aspect of me, were not for each other

everything else is pretty standard, i.e they must have the same moral/political standing as me, etc. i want us to have similiar enough interests (music, hobbies, love languages, ideal way to spend the day, etc) but i do not want them to be a carbon copy of me. this person also has to be able to drive. i want my partner to be very obsessed with me. i suppress these tendencies in myself because i do not yet have a person who will be fully comfortable with them, but if i choose you to be my partner i fully expect you to be okay with my obsessive love and even encourage it. ill obviously want the same back. there will be some basic boundaries in terms of that but nothing crazy ;¬)

i come from a culture where courting is the norm, so regardless of gender, i would expect my partner to do that for me before we become official. unfortunately, ive never experienced such things towards myself and always ended up on the giving end of it. i wouldnt have an issue with that as i enjoy spoiling my subjects of interests for a variety of reasons, but eventually you start to wish you got similiar treatment back. im someone who will try and learn everything about you in one go so i can use that information when i enter that courting stage. i love buying gifts, food, and flowers for my interests, which is the same stuff i expect back. everything i do i expect back, from planning lavish dates and paying for everything to spontaneous bouquets here and there. treat me like i mean everything to you and you will receive the same, if not more, back

in terms of personality, its all fairly standard. loyal, caring, attentive, patient, kind, loving, etc. the mental disorders will give them the rest of the traits i want (worships me)

some minor things that id enjoy but arent mandatory: brunette (highly preferred im sick of blondes ruining my life), plays an instrument, does ballet, has a motorcycle, is bilingual, rides horses, ice skates better than me so that they can teach me how to skate backwards and do tricks, has either a cat or a wolf like dog that i can pet, plays in a band so i can get backstage privileges (and after the show they can enter my backstage hahahaha sorry)

sending this off with the prayer that my ideal person will see this and instantly know im the one

[generic-sonic-fan]

Hullo there ! I love your " a father’s embrace " fanfic it got me into metal sonic more so i was wondering if u knew any other fanfics i could read that includes him , I would be very gratful for it ☆

Thank you so much! I'm really glad you enjoyed it. Be sure to also give a look to (shameful self-plug here, apologies) I Can't Take All This and a prompt fill I did for him a while back! Also keep an eager eye out for my Metal Sonic longfic that I'll post. . . eventually.

Without further ado, here's my rec list! I'll sort my recs into four categories: non-ship, Metamy, Metadow and Metonic.

Non-Ship:

The first thing I'll put in this category is actually not a fic, but an official piece of Sonic media. You are now legally obligated to watch the Sonic OVA!! This movie fundamentally changed the way I characterize Metal Sonic forever, and is the basis for at least one fic I'm recommending on this list. 2D animated Sonic is genuinely one of my favorite things on the great green earth, and the OVA has it in spades. If you love the Sonic CD intro, you're gonna love this one. The only drawback is that you have to deal with 90s sexism in some parts, but that's pretty minor.

Now, with that out of the way, let me get on to my actual fic recommendations:

and so I transformed myself with my own hands - by @couch-house. This is THE transfemme Metal Sonic bible right here. But not only that, it features a terrifyingly well-written Eggdad and a great take on Sage. Every scene where Eggman and Metal verbally spar in this one had me on the edge of my seat. The tension and pacing of this one is absolutely fan-fucking-tastic. So don't just read it for trans girl Metal- read it for everything else as well.

Situation: Optimal - by ModOrbot. Metal Sonic battles Sonic and pushes himself to the breaking point- and Eggman gets concerned. Featuring good dad Eggdad and some interesting angst from Metal.

Honorary mention to METACOGNITION - by Chaos Theory (Lizardmind). This one's still ongoing, but I really like this author's narration for Metal so far, and the alternate universe premise they're building is fascinating to watch as it unfolds.

Metamy:

Carbon Cafe - by @metallix-mixin. A post-redemption Metal waxes poetic about the bakery he now runs, and the lovely guest who visits him there. A short and sweet story with a charmingly verbose and romantic narration style for Metal that I haven't found anywhere else. I think about this fic whenever I pass a bakery.

Bird Calls - by Fumiku. Metal stumbles across Amy while she's bird-watching. This one's simply the best Metamy I've ever read. Period. GOD I love this one. Most of the time, I simply tolerate Metamy to get more content with Metal Sonic in it, but this fic makes me believe in love. The emotions that both Metal and Amy go through in this one are just so in-character, and are so, so good.

Beauty is in the Beholder - by Fumiku. This is the only fic I've ever found that's about Metamy after the introduction to their relationship. In this one, they've been dating for a while now, but Metal's been having some issues with mental health and body image. Good thing Amy's there to help :)

Metadow:

Mutually Beneficial, Whatever It Takes, and A Form Chosen By Himself, But Not For Himself - by @south-sea here on tumblr. In fact, you really should just check out everything Sea has ever written for their Second Chance AU that they have starring Shadow and Metal. They write Shadow and Metal in a queer-platonic relationship and their writing is honestly what sold me on the relationship in the first place. Everything they touch with these two characters is solid gold. The narration style they use for Metal is brutally effective. I can't recommend those fics highly enough.

Metonic:

Halves of the Same Coin - by @sunnimint. OVA Universe. This fic is MANDATORY READING once you've seen the OVA. This fic dragged me from the highest fluffy happiness to the most gut-wrenching of angst. This fic destroyed me. This fic remade me. And this fic just got its concluding chapter. It's the perfect time to read it.

Iron Oxide - by TheEnigmaMachine. This is the other mandatory reading for Metonic, this time set roughly in gameverse. This fic is fascinating because it's actually a high-concept science fiction novel neatly disguised as a ship fic. This one's a pleasure to read because Metal actually narrates in and utilizes actual computer and science terms (the tags for "quantum mechanics" and "physics" aren't kidding!) It genuinely blew my mind when I first read it. Don't let the weird premise scare you- roll with the angst, bunker down for the enemies-to-lovers slow burn, and give it a shot.

Beginnings of an End - by @sunnimint. If any of you were crying because you don't want to watch the OVA but still wanted to read Sunnimint's absolutely phenomenal prose, look no further- she's got one in gameverse too. This one, opposite of her other one, features a Metal raised by a good dad Eggman, and all of the baggage that comes with it going into a Metonic relationship. It's a fascinating read. The only problem is that it's unfinished, but what's there is solid gold.