#could i have done something better with my time

[ultraericthered]

#i got to screen Wish before it released during a school trip and let me tell you something #even though we noticed the glaring problems with that movie immediately #i also noticed something i dont think many others did at that time #there was so much talent and potential being held back. if you read closely you can pick up on a cry for help from the creatives behind it #i want to elaborate but i think if you know. you know #and if you don't.. this post does a good job of shining a light on a small part of that cry for you #despite its many issues i think i still liked Wish. Not because i think it was a good movie but bc i think it could have been a great one had circumstances been different. #my heart goes out to those who put their souls and everything they had into that movie and others in similar situations #some of the creators had given a small talk before the screening and to me they seemed very emotional about it #i think what many people forget is that nobody can see a project's flaws better than the people who worked on it #but what they also see and you can't is everything more it was meant to be #please remember that the core of many issues in any project is that the people with the talent often do not have power to call the shots

Yes, all of that. And I find it ironic that the gifed scene is the one that got people saying "Hey, King Magnifico's not really much of a villain, he's got a good point! He's just upholding his part of a social contract with his citizenry and doing what he, as king, needs to do to protect their wishes but also protect Rosas by ruling out granting any wishes that might backfire and have dangerous repercussions for the kingdom and the lives of the people! Asha's just an ignorant spoiled brat for demanding anything more of him! Magnifico Did Nothing Wrong!" So when you take that position on what you're being shown by the story and not scratching the surface to look at what Magnifico is doing in-universe by not giving back the wishes he knows he will not grant and knows the people who gave them to him cannot remember and what the out-of-universe subtext of this is, you're siding with the Disney Corporate Executive Overlords. You're siding with Bob Iger's "they're not being realistic with their expectations" argument. You're siding with Chapek and Iger's practices done under excuses like "It doesn't fit the Disney brand", "mass appeal stories over personal ones", "people don't want to go and pay to see movies with girly princess titles", etc. You're siding with their practices of dumping content straight to streaming (or onto Disney+ not too long after they've hit theaters or TV) even when that actually limits profits that the actual creative teams can make from their own work, of tampering with the artists visions and how the finished product turns out and then punishing those artists if it doesn't turn out well, and of ignoring ideas for original creations in favor of contiunally milking their popular (and profitable) existing IPs. You're siding with people who make up an entire entity that say loudly to the faces of all those who put in the work, the skills, the talent, the passion and dedication to create art and content they feel people deserve to enjoy, in the forms they deserve to enjoy them "I decide what everyone deserves!"

Capitalism errodes into a force for human evil when the people at the top prove susceptible to three things in excess beyond mere greed and self-interest: unchecked power, irresponsibility, and indecency. King Magnifico is allegorical for that evil, with a bit of a communist dictator angle to him too since that's the end point of those exact same excesses and extremes for socialism. He's a major problematic fave for all kinds of reasons, but anyone who wants to tell me he's a good guy can kindly GTFO.

Wish (2023) dir. Fawn Veerasunthorn, Chris Buck

hey do you think the overworked creatives about to go on strike are trying to tell us something

article sources under the cut

Mattson, Kelcie. "How Disney Almost Killed 'Nimona.'" Collider, January 2 2024.

Earl, William. "Shelving Batgirl Was the Right Decision, Says New DC Studios Head Peter Safran: 'It Would Have Hurt DC.'" Variety, January 31 2023

Couch, Aaron. "Warner Bros. Reverses Course on 'Coyote vs. Acme' After Filmmakers Rebel." The Hollywood Reporter, November 13 2023.

Ridgely, Charlie. "Scoob! Sequel Director Revealed Film Was 'Very Close' to Completion Before HBO Max Cancellation." comicbook.com, August 2 2022.

Clark, Travis. "Staffers at the animation studio Blue Sky say it's 'heartbreaking' that Disney canceled its final movie, 'Nimona.'" Business Insider, February 18, 2021.

Harrison, Mark. "Why was the Batgirl movie cancelled?" Yahoo! Entertainment, January 31 2024.

Amidi, Amid. "Warner Bros. Shelves Fully-Completed 'Coyote Vs. Acme' For Tax Write-Off." Cartoon Brew, November 9 2023.

Lee, Alex. "Why Netflix keeps cancelling your favourite shows after two seasons." Wired UK, September 28 2020.

Tyrrell, Gary. "We All Knew It Was Coming." fleen.com, February 10 2021.

"Warner Bros. Reverses Course on ‘Coyote vs. Acme’ After Filmmakers Rebel." see: 3.

Bergeson, Samantha. "Warner Bros. Will Let 'Coyote Vs. Acme' Filmmakers Shop Movie to Other Distributors." IndieWire, November 13 2023.

Strapagiel, Lauren. "Disney's First Feature Animated Movie With Queer Leads May Never Be Released." BuzzfeedNews, February 24 2021.

"We All Knew It Was Coming." see: 9

@/scottderrickson. "I think it’s absolute bullshit that a studio can and does shelve the creative work of hundreds of people for a fucking tax break." Twitter, 10 Nov. 2023, 4:52 p.m..

[bunnys-kisses]

lovingly dominant

capt. john price

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/30s), size difference/kink, dom/sub dynamic, bdsm au, virgin!reader, light bdsm, praise (kink)

a/n: in a surprising twist, bunny has written call of duty again!! expect more cod stuff into december when the f1 season is over and it stops eating my brain <3

john price considered himself a little old fashioned. he thought it was better to have his birdie of the week on her back and rut into her until they both finished. he had no need for whips, chains, collars, and whatever else the world of bdsm had to offer.

but after so many missions and so many years, the pollution of combat bled into his sexual desires. he craved for control, near domination of his birdie. yes, they looked cute on their backs and their soft noises. but it looked far more appealing to keep her blindfolded, second guessing what was being done to her while price's filthy words spilled across her brain like wine on a white carpet. tainting her. tainting you.

most dominants loved a trained submissive. loved that they knew the ins and outs of the dynamic, tinkering to their liking. price on the other hand had a thing for over eager virgins. ones who got all their bdsm know-how from horribly written fan fiction. he liked to teach and guide, he liked to shape his submissive into the perfect image of what could be.

and when he met you, oh, well something else came up. an unwavering possessive need. price tried to not get possessive, this was all just a little game for sexual pleasure. but when he found out his little trainee worked at a flower shop, it was all over for him. it was only doubled down when you had your first meeting at a coffee shop and you got the most delicious looking slice of strawberry shortcake.

the cream on the corner of your mouth almost made john price lose resolve. instead he covered up with a cough before you asked, "do you want some, mister price." and who was john price to deny such a lovely girl her offer. you even fed it to him, a glimmer in your eye and gentle smile.

"it's lovely, baby girl." he said before he wiped a bit of the cream off his beard which made you giggle. that giggle seared into his brain and he knew that you weren't getting with any other man.

you met at his flat a few weeks later, and you were eager. price liked that. sex was only half as fun when the person he was fucking was almost having a good time. you came over in a big sweatshirt and jeans that were a little baggy, something that covered up. it made price curious as to what was hiding underneath.

"look beautiful, birdie." he said as he guided you inside and you got your sneakers off. you looked over at him to help you through the flat. you held onto him a little nervous, the only familiar thing in the place. price held you by the middle and let you press your face up against his strong chest.

he was in a flannel with a white undershirt and jeans. you could see the gold chain around his throat and the heavy chest hair. you had seen him naked from photos shared and he had seen you naked, but to feel it up close left a shiver of excitement through you. he leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head as he led you to the bedroom.

he said, "afterwards, i'll make ya some dinner. not the best chef, but, i can cook ya somethin' to replenish the energy you spent fucking me." he then ruffled your hair, which made your heart leap and he got you onto the bed.

you nodded meekly, you looked so small. so innocent. a girl like you should be on dated with finance guys or even the artsy kind. not a weathered, older military man like him. but even things in smaller packages can be surprising, just like when you took off your clothes and revealed a matching set of bra and panties. a soft grey colour with pastel yellow accents. it made price have to adjust himself in his jeans.

"ah, pretty girl got a surprise for me. how sweet?"

you nodded, "i wanted to make tonight special. good luck for a long... dynamic between us. so, you don't get rid of me if i suck." and soon you were in price's embrace while you still sat on the bed. your cheek pressed hard against his soft but firm middle.

he petted your head a little and said, "ah, don't worry, petal. even if you do bad tonight, i got every intention of trainin' ya. make you the perfect girl." the words spoken hit right to your core and when he pulled away long enough to strip down, you felt your eyes go wide for a moment.

a photo couldn't capture every inch of john price's skin. the scars, the tattoos, the hair, the muscle, the fat. he was like a big brown bear and it made you soaked. you shifted a little in your spot on the bed and rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. it was surprising that you were still a virgin, but you always chickened out. now as an adult, you wanted to just get it over with. but, you wanted to have fun. and why not have fun with a well experienced dom who wouldn't half-ass your first time. it didn't hurt that he had the kind of looks that would make any man with half a brain jealous.

"i hope i meet expectations." he chuckled as he put his hands on his hips. his cock stood at full attention and you swallowed. there was something so masculine about him, but not in a toxic way. he played with your hair once more before he patted your cheek, "no need to gawk, petal. i'm not goin' anywhere." and you swallowed. he chuckled before he got into bed with you and slowly unwrapped you of your lingerie like delicate christmas paper.

he hadn't been this excited to upwrap something since he got the toy firetruck as a kid. but in total fairness, you were hotter than any fire red truck. his hands grazed across your body with total tenderness and his hungry blue eyes gazed the skin.

the stretch marks, the moles, your own scarring. you were beautiful in ways that price couldn't describe. to compare you to something would be unfair to the thing being compared to your beauty. he took you by the wrist and kissed the center of it.

"this is a promise, petal. for as long as you keep me as your dominant and you my submissive, i with cherish you, adore you, and most of all. make sure that you cum over and over again." before he kissed you on the lips and got you onto your back. he admired you, "usually i like to take pretty things on their hands and knees. but, tonight's gotta be special, right, doll?"

you nodded.

he tapped your nose and said, "ah, ah, ah. that won't cut it. the words are 'yes, sir', got it? would hate to bruise that little behind during our first time."

you found your voice and said, "yes, sir." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek before price pulled away to rest on his knees to fuck you with just right. you felt heat course through your body as you took in the sight of him. burly, large from top to bottom.

course dark hair on his body, a little heft in his middle (but who didn't love that), a sparkle in his blue eyes, and hands large enough to break things between the digits. he admired you in return and said softly, "pretty little petal, yeah? ah, who let ya be so beautiful?" he chuckled as he rubbed his cock up against your slick sex, "i got so much to teach ya. how to tie ya up, how to gag ya properly. mmm, we'll have so much fun." he then pulled away to grab a condom from the nightstand. he held up the silver foil to you and said, "rule one, play safe or don't play at all."

you nodded and remembered to reply, "yes, sir."

price gave you a smile that lit you up and said, "good girl." then quickly got the condom on. he admired your soaked sex for a moment longer, "she achin' for me, huh? cute." then slowly, almost agonizingly, he inched into you and felt the spread of warmth through his body.

heaven was created with your pussy in mind. price was never a quick finisher, but he almost finished inside of you when he managed to get all of himself inside of you. he kept eyes and ears open, the type of examining done in his line of work, to make sure that you weren't in too much pain.

"ya alright?"

you nodded and swallowed.

price added, "baby girl. words." and then nodded his head when you replied that everything was okay, he nodded and said, "roger that." which made you pussy clench. a smile spread across price's face as he leaned forward. he captured your hands in his and pressed them to the bed under you. he chuckled lowly, "ah, someone likes a military man? a man in uniform gets ya goin'?" he kissed your pulse point, "ah, too cute, petal. i guess seeing that on my description didn't scare ya off." he rocked against you, "know it's a crime to mess up a man's uniform."

you swallowed, "sir. fuck." and felt the strike of heat through your body. you had to admit, you had seen a few photos of him in uniform. the beret, boots and all. and it made something turn in your stomach. only added an appeal to him that made you hot.

price replied, "i guess it worked out. because i like cute little civilians who are more than eager to make me feel good. doin' your civic duty makin' me cum, baby girl." these was a tension in his voice that made you heart hammer and your throat feel tight. the bed squeaked a little under the both of you as he continued his movements. he knew he was going to have an amazing time with you.

you whined, "please, sir."

"tell me. tell me what ya like about it? what gets my baby girl goin'? i gotta know, because maybe i can get somethin' together that'll rock your world." his words were hot and your cunt fluttered around his achy, hard cock. for a moment he was uncertain if you were actually a virgin, you took him so well.

you moaned when you felt a spark of pleasure in your core, your entire life had just been your hands and an assortment of toys. but to have price work your body beautifully was something else. you replied sweetly, "i... i want to thigh ride you in uniform." you felt a flush of embarrassment.

he chuckled, "oh that would be quite the sight, huh?" he continued to move against you beautifully, "i bet that i could make ya cum just from my thighs. rub your cunt all over it, messin' up the fabric. higher-ups will be wonderin' about the pussy stains all over the fabric. maybe if i'm lucky i'll get some of your wetness in my beard. let 'em smell you on me." and well, that excited you deeply.

you arched your back a little bit, but price kept you pinned perfectly under him. you tightened your thighs around him and he continued to work your body. it wasn't rough sex, but it also wasn't boringly soft either. he worked you at a steady pace, like a man with immense stamina. he eyed the bounce of your breasts and he moved against you.

he licked his lips at the sight of you, "baby girl." he purred, "you're a dirty girl. but don't worry." he soon held onto your wrists instead of your hands, a further act of domination, "i like 'em dirty. i like girls i can sink my teeth into. soon enough you won't be able to cum unless it's my fingers, tongue or cock in you. ya got the kind of soft skin that would bruise perfectly. but be careful, petal, i can be quite mean with a paddle." and it was met with a heavy moan. music to his ears.

you had never been spoken to like this before, but it excited you. you wanted to be price's dirty girl any day of the week. you felt excitement cross over you as he picked up the pace. the two of you fucked heavily and it left a taste of want in your mouth. this was better than anything you hoped for. it wasn't just that price checked boxes on a superficial level, he knew exactly how to make you squirm and moan. heavy noises came from your mouth as he worked your achy cunt, you felt amazing.

"ya like knowin' that i'm your first. big, scary captain makin' a mess of the sweetest cunt in the world. knowin' in a way, i got ya for life." he licked his lips. he liked that you were pure in that way, call him old fashioned. but knowing that he got to have you first was sort of like getting the first slice of cake at a party. something he wished to sweetly devour. and with you it was with heavy thrusts and filthy words. taint you to his liking.

you whined as you clenched your fists, you tensed up and he loved the feeling. he could almost read your mind with how sweet you felt. he could nearly feel your heartbeat as he fucked you. he loved the sight of you, you looked damn near perfect under him. you said between heavy pants, "please, sir. fuck, please!"

"feel good, petal? like how i take you." he moved against you further and it left him feeling the anticipation for climax. he continued to fuck your sweet body, working every last centimeter of warm skin, "remember, ya gotta ask me to cum."

his movements were overwhelming, his pace left you feeling breathless. and in your first lesson of intimacy, you croaked out, "can i cum, sir? please, i need to cum."

and price could be a giving man. he looked down at you, haze in those blue eyes as he said, "of course, baby girl. cum for me, cum for your captain." and swore under his breath as you beautifully came apart for him. he held onto your wrists tighter and groaned. it paired nicely with your sweet little moans.

"sir! fuck!" you gasped as you clenched around him. you finished and it only prompted him to move faster while you laid in such a blissed out state. no one had made you finish like that, not even your own nimble digits.

but price was just that good.

the bed creaked further and the headboard hit against the beige wall of the bedroom. he fucked you faster and made sure to cram every inch inside of you. with a few more heavy strokes, he finished into of you with a heavy groan. he fucked you through his climax before he slowed to a stop.

he wiped the sweat from his forehead and exhaled deeply, "beauty, beauty. where has the world been hidin' ya from me." he chuckled as he kissed you on the lips. you melted against him and moaned.

when he pulled out, he got up with a creak in his hip to throw out the condom before he was back in bed with you. you were both naked under the covers as price traced your form with his calloused fingers. the roughness on your soft skin made you shiver.

"how about it, lovie." he said in that low, gruff tone of his. his hand grazed across your side and behind, "how about i invite the boys over and their little birdies and we can have a little playdate. introduce you to the group."

you swallowed, "play... date?"

price pulled you closer. he held onto you the way someone would hold a stuffed animal. he smiled at you, "don't worry, petal. no one's gettin' their hands on ya. not while i'm still breathin'." his voice was tinged with a possessiveness. you nodded in response and he added, "besides, i know i'll make the boys nice and jealous with you." he chuckled, "my beautiful baby girl." then kissed you on the lips.

you could only imagine what would happen at a playdate with price's friends and their submissives. it also didn't help that it made you a little excited as well. <3

[caitified]

thanksgiving

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none

thanksgiving with caitlin was something you’d been looking forward to for weeks. it was your first time hosting together in your shared apartment in indianapolis, and caitlin was determined to make it perfect.

you stood in the kitchen, focused on making sure the turkey was carved just right when you felt a familiar presence behind you. caitlin’s arms snaked around your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder.

“need some help?” she asked softly, her warm breath tickling your ear.

“you’re supposed to be entertaining your family,” you replied with a smirk, leaning back slightly into her embrace.

“they’re fine,” she said, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “besides, i missed you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully but couldn’t hide the smile spreading across your face. before you could say anything more, caitlin’s brother strolled into the kitchen, his eyebrow raised at the two of you.

“okay, lovebirds, save it for later,” he teased, grabbing a drink from the counter.

caitlin turned to face her, not letting go of you. “jealous much?” she shot back with a grin.

“hardly,” he replied, but the amused look on his face betrayed his sarcasm. he walked back out to the living room, shaking his head.

caitlin kissed your temple before finally pulling away. “i’ll let you finish. but don’t take too long—i’m not sharing you for the whole night.”

you laughed as she disappeared into the other room, and after a few more minutes, you emerged from the kitchen with the turkey, setting it down in the center of the table. everyone cheered as caitlin helped guide you to your seat beside her, sneaking a quick kiss on your cheek as you sat down.

dinner was lively and full of stories, many of them from caitlin’s time at iowa. her dad was in the middle of telling a particularly embarrassing story from her childhood when caitlin reached under the table, lacing her fingers with yours. she leaned in close, her voice low enough for only you to hear.

“can you believe this? they always gang up on me during the holidays,” she whispered, her mock-annoyed expression making you stifle a laugh.

“you love it,” you teased, squeezing her hand.

“maybe,” she admitted, grinning. “but only because you’re here to make it bearable.”

you shook your head at her dramatics but couldn’t help feeling a warmth spread through your chest. moments like these, where caitlin’s playful charm was on full display, made you fall for her even more.

after dinner, while the others migrated to the couch to watch football, you stayed behind in the kitchen to start cleaning up. caitlin joined you soon after, rolling up her sleeves and grabbing a dish towel.

“you don’t have to help,” you said as she started drying dishes.

“i want to,” she replied, glancing at you with that soft smile she reserved just for you.

the two of you worked in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of conversation and laughter from the living room serving as a backdrop. then caitlin broke the quiet.

“you know,” she said, leaning against the counter once the dishes were done. “i think this might be my favorite thanksgiving ever.”

“why’s that?” you asked, turning to face her.

she stepped closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “because it’s the first one with you.”

her words made your heart race, and before you could respond, she cupped your face in her hands, kissing you softly. it was a moment of quiet intimacy amid the chaos of the holiday, a reminder of how much caitlin meant to you—and how much you meant to her.

“i love you,” she said when she pulled back, her forehead resting against yours.

“i love you, too,” you whispered, smiling up at her.

and as the night went on, surrounded by love and laughter, you couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the holiday than by caitlin’s side.

[liaculpa]

Well shit, this hit me like a brick to the face.

I've always been terrible at asking for and accepting help, or feeling like I'm worth helping in the first place. I always just assumed that when people said "if there's anything I can do to help, just let me know" when I was going through hell, it was just a figure of speech. I never took anyone's offer for help when I lost my dad, or when I was stuck in a depressive hell for years. People reached out, and I just said "thanks, but I'm fine" because their time was obviously better spent elsewhere. I wasn't gonna die without their help, I didn't NEED need it. But it would have helped me, and I never felt like I deserved that.

My mom once said to me that I deserved a better kitchen table than the piece of crap my dad used as his computer desk for 10 years, that I took after he died. I told her I didn't need one; what did she mean, I deserve it? What had I done to warrant that? I couldn't really wrap my head around it.

It's still true today. I have some money, I could get decent furniture. I still have that old table sitting next to me right now, covered in a cheap tablecloth so you can't see all the dents and scratches. I just never feel like there's a point to buying it, if it's just for me. What have I done to deserve something nice and new?

At least I'm taking better care of my body. That's kind of the one thing I want to keep. Since I came out, I've been putting actual effort into my skin, my hair, how I dress. I want to sculpt this shitty meat sack until my mirror shows the woman I know I am. But for everything else, it's just hard. I want to improve, but it's so hard to get past those mental hurdles. It's so hard to convince my stupid brain that I can accept help, whether it's from a friend or even myself.

Something to work on.

so many of the transfems i know spent their time pre-transition performing a kind of lifelong exercise in self-deprivation. the goal, for them, was to find out exactly how little a person needed to live. they starved themselves, dressed carelessly, shunned friends, and hollowed themselves out so as not to be burdens on anyone but themselves.

i see it now, too, in the girls around me. i'll ask if they want care – a home-cooked meal, relaxed company, sex without the expectation of reciprocation – and they say no, no, thank you, i don't need it; what would you like, what do you want, because in their head they're still doing that awful calculus, still training themselves to disappear in the eyes of the people around them.

i don't think i'd have died without transition – not in the conventional sense, at least – but to take that leap, i had to stop thinking of myself as a human experiment in fuel-efficient living and start nurturing the anemic, atrophied flame of desire in my heart. i had to learn to eat well, to exercise, to style myself beautiful, but harder than that, i had to learn to ask the people around me to work on my behalf in order to enrich my life and give me the things i wanted.

and i did it; i learned. and it was agony, but courage is a muscle you can train, and every day i get better at accepting gifts with the hungry gratitude i never learned in my years and years as a sad, scared, lonely boy.

so be patient with the trans girls in your life. better than that: be proactive, attentive, generous; be forceful, if you have to, and learn to distinguish real discomfort from the terrified reflex of self-deprivation that so many of us learned to rely on.

and if you are so lucky as to love a trans girl, you must insist upon her. you must insist upon her happiness, her comfort, her pleasure, and her rest, because she may still not yet know how to make those demands for herself. if you can devote any amount of energy to becoming an engine that nurtures the flame of even a single tgirl then there is a place for you in trans heaven, which as far as i'm concerned is the only one worth going to

[2amriize]

✧₊⁺. MTL RIIZE — to be jealous of actor!reader kiss scene

req: riize mtl jealous of actor!reader kiss scene??

pairing: riize x actor/actress!reader — masterlist

MOST

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

"Why do you have to kiss other people? That’s something only I should be allowed to do…"

Even though you always explained to Wonbin that it was part of your job, he would still complain and stage a small dramatic scene about it. He couldn’t bring himself to watch any of the shows where you played a character with a romantic partner. Impossible.

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

He couldn’t watch it—or even think about it. How could you kiss someone else when you’re his? Every time you had a kissing scene, not only would he refuse to watch it, but he’d also insist: "For every kiss you give him, you have to give me ten."

⭑.ᐟ sohee

Even though he fully understood that it was your job, kissing scenes were something he just couldn’t bring himself to like. Seeing you act as someone else’s partner didn’t bother him much, but the kisses were unbearable. "But is it really necessary? Can’t they use your double or something?"

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

Eunseok was a confident guy, but seeing you kiss someone else wasn’t something he enjoyed. Though he wouldn’t complain because he knew it was part of your work, every time you watched the drama together, he would kiss you during the kissing scenes—both to avoid watching them and, as he said: "It’s to remind you how my lips feel…"

⭑.ᐟ anton

Even though he knew it was your character and not really you kissing the other actor, it still felt strange to him. He would watch the entire scene but couldn’t stop a shiver from running down his spine afterward. He’d then pull you as close as possible and say: "Make me forget what I just saw, or I’m going to lose it."

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

Shotaro loved joking around with you, and one of his favorite ways to tease you was about your kissing scenes. Watching you kiss someone else in a series didn’t make him jealous at all because he knew it wasn’t real. "Mmm… I think you could’ve done better in that scene. Here, let me show you how…"

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

Seunghan fully understood that it was all part of your job. He was confident enough in himself and in your relationship to know you didn’t feel anything for the other person, so kissing scenes didn’t bother him much (he even enjoyed watching them). "But who’s the better kisser, him or me?"

LEAST

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[gatorbites-imagines]

micheal meyers fic if you still write for him? 🎃

I rlly liked your other fics with him, not a big fan of him being characterized as overly affectionate so I rlly liked your kinktober fics about him

something in a similar vein to that? smut or no smut is chill, just him being infatuated in his own creepy way

Michael Myers x male reader

Headcanons

Im happy you like my stuff :3c ive never imagined he was overly affectionate either, it just didn’t feel like it fit his character very much, ya know? No hate to the people who write that, I just like imagining him as a creepy guy, standing there… menacingly…

I think the only way you two could have met where you made a lasting impression is if you were somehow at the same asylum as him. Be it as a doctor or a patient. But I’ve never read a fic where the reader was one of the doctors, so that’s what we’re gonna go with here.

Joining up at smith’s grove sanitarium hadn’t been your first choice, since it was known as a pretty run-down place, that treated their patients more as prisoners than people. It may have been a place for the worst of the worst, but they were still people in your eyes.

You get Michaels attention by somehow wrenching his care from Dr Loomis’s hands, using all kinds of laws and loopholes to rip it from him and then running for the door pretty much. To you, what Loomis did should get him placed in jail and his license removed, as it could only have made his patients states worse.

Building a relationship with Michael is what many would call impossible. But you believed that every person had something special that fueled them, and just being treated like a worthwhile human being always seemed to do the trick.

It took months, if not years for you to really worm your way into Michael’s heart, or whatever was left of it. He hadn’t really had many positive male people in his life, something you also blamed Dr Loomis for, but over time he grew closer to you, in his own way.

To others it may seem like Michael was the same as always, but at this point you’ve worked with him so long that you know him. You can feel his attention follow you, even when you are on the other side of the yard where the patients get sunlight.

It’s no shock that you are most patients’ favorite, especially after you become head of the hospital, after a very long and stressful battle with those stuck in their old ways. It made you start cleaning house, getting rid of bad caretakers and methods to replace them with better ones.

You took it extremely seriously, and would have any so called interviewers or investigators removed from the premises, to not mess with your patients’ care.

You gain a bit of a reputation in the media at how incredibly cruel you can be to the people who wish to use and abuse your patients. Some call you crazy for protecting them, especially as everyone knows Michael Myers resides there.

But to you, it doesn’t matter. You have no spouse, no children, you haven’t talked to your family since you left home at 18, all you truly have is your job, so that is what you use your energy on.

And if a lot of that time is spent with Michael, then so be it. Having Michael actually emote or pay attention to you, is a big step in the right direction in your book. You can never get him to talk, but he does succeed in learning a couple of signs, though you suspect he only does it because he knows it makes you happy.

Later you would look back on Michael’s escape as something you blamed on yourself. Over the long time you had been his caretaker, you always made sure to be there on Halloween, since it was such an important date for him.

He never told you this, obviously, but you could tell. It just happened that you had needed surgery around that time, something you couldn’t put off as much as you wanted. If you wanted to keep caring for your patients, then you needed it done.

So, it truly shouldn’t have been such a surprise for one of your nurses to call you in a panic that Michael had somehow gotten out. Being bedbound, there wasn’t much you could do but give orders from home and watch the tv.

You didn’t technically live in Haddonfield, but you lived close enough that you could bike to town for groceries if you needed to, but also so you could drive to work without much issue.

Seeing no reports of murders outside the usual made you sigh and slump in on yourself. You had put off taking your pain medication, wanting to be clearheaded and aware, just in case you needed to be. And what else kept one clear in the head but pain.

As bedridden as you were, there wasn’t much you could do when you heard your back door open. You only knew it was that door, as it had a loud squeaky hinge you never got fixed, as it wasn’t like you used that entrance much.

Seeing Michaels looming stature shouldn’t have been a shocker either. What did amaze you to a certain, professional extent, was that he hadn’t put on his usual coveralls or mask, instead it was one you two had made together using safe materials.

There was no verbal or physical reply when you spoke to him, outside of a slight rise of tension in his shoulders when he heard you grunt in pain, as you turned to look at him.

You didn’t want to call the hospital, knowing just how volatile Michael could be. And you may have replaced many doctors and nurses, but they still feared him, all but you at least. The only thing you truly could do was speak to him, to make him stay so he didn’t go kill anyone.

Maybe it was the years of care you had given him, but Michael at some point moved closer, just staring down at you and the bandages around your stomach.

You had a feeling he wanted to poke it or maybe just unwrap it, but you had worked with him about other people’s pain tolerance. Michael still only seemed to care when it was you, but you put a lot of stuff in his notes about your professional opinion and growth.

There were worse caretakers than Michael. In all reality he wasn’t really a caretaker. A lot of it was just him standing by the door, in the corner, or right at the foot of your bed to watch you. Hed shuffle after you wherever you went in the apartment, even carrying you when you couldn’t move too much.

you had decided to heal enough to bring him back to smith’s grove when you healed enough, already knowing how violent Michael could be with other people.

To Michael though, this meant more than you meant. He wasn’t one to feel lust or much romantic attraction, but he was drawn to you and attached enough to just stay, to even bring you your pill bottles and water, like how you would to him at smith’s grove.

You theorized it made him happy, in his own way, to know he was helping in the ways he knew how. Another more paranoid part of your brain did worry about what he did when you slept, since the pain medication had that effect.

Nothing ever looked out of place, but you did catch him kneeling beside your bed on more than one occasion, just holding your hand. Or the times hed place your hand on top of his head so you would caress him.

It was inappropriate for a doctor to do such a thing with his patients, but Michael seemed calmer and more at ease when it was just you two. He couldn’t cuddle in bed with you, and neither did he seem to want to, but being held and coddle in small amounts seemingly worked for him.

Michael clearly wasn’t pleased when you took him to return to smith’s grove, but he actually came along without issue. It caused a whole media storm, but over the years you had mastered those too. As long as it helped your patients, then you would do it, to a certain extent.

And if giving Michael weekends at your place where he got to stalk you around your own property was what he needed, then so be it. you saw it as progress, in his own, weird way. Hell, Michael even started sitting and having dinner with you instead of just hovering. To you that was a win, no matter what others said.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow part 53

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 50, part 51, part 52

“You’re moving?” Dustin yells louder than he should in the middle of Family Video.

Steve just shrugs, like he didn’t drop the news of the century. “My parents are selling the house. Kinda means I have to move.”

“What he means,” Robin interrupts, slamming the new box of tapes onto the counter, “is that they are kicking him out.”

“They are not kicking me out.” Steve takes the first few tapes off the top of the box and starts loading the cart. “They’ve been talking about selling the house for years now, the only reason they haven’t is because I still lived there.”

“You still live there now,” Robin presses. “What changed?”

Steve sighs. Ignoring the question by bringing the mostly empty cart into one of the aisles. Refilling the shelves.

“Well?”

Another sigh. “They just, we had a deal that if I didn’t go to college in a year, that they weren’t going to support me anymore. Including the house. It’s been a year. Time’s up.”

Dustin really hates Steve’s parents. He’s never said it out loud, it’s been the silent thought in his mind. But it was true. He hated them. He hated them without ever needing to meet them in person. The soulless eyes in the one family portrait told him everything.

His mother would never kick him out for societal failures. She loved him for everything he did. Mistakes and all. There wasn’t anything he could do to make that change. Even if she knew all he’s been through, all he’s seen and done, he’d still never lose that love.

Steve, from what Dustin’s heard, had to earn it. It was titles on sports teams and cheaply made trophies. Medals and accolades. Something to brag about at business meetings. Something physical to pin their pride.

When it all stopped, so did their love. He became a leech that lived despite them. Now instead of lines upon lines of achievement to brag about, it was all about the son who failed to keep up with his father’s shadow.

Even when Steve is so much more than their rudimentary required achievements. When asked what Steve has done, who Steve is, awards aren’t in Dustin’s top ten. Steve was so much more than they could even pretend to appreciate. He was so much better than them.

“So making you pay rent the past year wasn’t enough?” Robin’s anger echoes off the walls of the store. Thank God there weren’t any customers. “Now they get to kick you out with nothing.”

Pay rent? Dustin didn’t know about that.

“I don’t have nothing,” Steve tries to defend. But the fight turns to defeat in his shoulders. “I can take anything but the furniture.”

How many times has Steve paid without Dustin even thinking about it? He had thought it wasn’t a problem for Steve. He thought that all the money Steve made was extra. His parents still paying for the house, his groceries. Providing for their child.

That was all Steve? He’s been paying them, paying for himself, for a year and Dustin didn’t notice.

“You don’t have a roof, Steve.” Robin radiates an anger that Steve doesn’t even begin to have. He just seems so resigned.

“Could you just drop it, Robin.” It’s the highest Steve’s raised his voice this entire conversation. Veering on yelling. “There is nothing I can do to change it. Nothing.”

Robin pinches her mouth shut. Angrily slamming tapes onto her cart. Each one with a dull thump.

Steve was moving.

“I know,” Eddie spits when Dustin asks him about it. “Got the call about it yesterday. Didn’t even know they were selling the place.”

Wayne walks in on his way out to work. “You still pissed about that?”

“I’m pissed for a lot of reasons, kinda hard not to be.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, fists clenching and unclenching. “I just wish he told me. We promised to be more open about stuff that was bothering us, and he didn’t.”

Dustin was following, but there was more to this conversation than he knew. Something that also explains the closeness that Steve and Eddie have had in the past few weeks.

He could assume. With what he’s heard, when he definitely was not supposed to be listening, it sounded like Steve might have had a thing for Eddie. Which grosses Dustin out for so many different reasons, but it’s fine. He can’t control who Steve dates, it’s just going to happen.

The thing was, he didn’t want to assume. He already felt weird about it when the school gossip was about who was dating just because they were close. It was another thing to speculate if people were gay. It just wasn’t something Dusitn felt right doing.

Even if he did suspect. His curiosity getting the better of him, and making him wonder. But the wonder was useless because he can’t just ask. Asking was wrong, and to the wrong person, would be dangerous. For reasons Dustin doesn’t fully understand.

So when Steve comes home and Eddie immediately gets off the couch to bug him. Dustin just shuts his brain off and forces himself to have some respect. If they were something, if Dustin’s stupid brain made correct assumptions, he was just going to wait for them to tell him. If they wanted to, they would.

He just hoped he made it clear enough that he would be safe to tell. He’d still love them if they actually murdered someone this time. That had to be enough to show them this wouldn’t matter. Wouldn’t it?

“I’m not talking about this right now,” Steve says while Dusting is slipping on his shoes. “I already got yelled at by Robin , I don’t need to hear the same from you.”

“How do you know it would be the same?” Eddie insists, following Steve to the stairs. Dustin didn’t notice before, but he’s not walking with his cane. Just himself. “I could be bringing it up in a completely different context.”

Steve sighs, crossing his arms. “Don’t care. I already heard enough about it today.”

He starts to climb up the stairs, Eddie continuing to shout after him.

“You know, you can’t hide upstairs anymore. My physical therapist said I can start thinking about doing stairs again. And I’m thinking of trying that right now.”

Eddie, not as hesitantly as Dustin would want him to, starts to climb the stairs. Slower than he has in the past, but he does it. Follows Steve into his bedroom, like what he just did wasn’t a major accomplishment.

“Jesus Christ this wallpaper is terrible,” Dustin can make out right before the door closes.

Wayne grabs his keys, nodding at the door. “Come on, I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”

“How long has he been able to do that?” Dustin can’t help but ask.

“I guess right now,” Wayne explains, pulling out of the drive. “He’s been stepping on some blocks as part of his exercises, but I didn’t think he was ready to do a whole staircase yet.”

He shakes his head. “No, I meant walking around without a cane. I thought he was going to use it all the time.”

“Yes and no. Yes, he will need to use a cane, and his crutches, on days when he needs it. Sometimes they can help with the pain, sometimes he needs them for the balance. But other days, especially if it’s a space he’s comfortable with, he can walk around without it. Really just depends on how he’s feeling that day.”

He was getting better. Again. Dustin thought he hit the peak of his progress, but he didn’t. There was still room to grow. To gain more strength. To find a way to act, and be, the way he was back at the beginning of the year.

Dustin forgot how it felt to look at Eddie walking around without any assistance, mainly because it felt like nothing at all. Before, it was just the norm. Now Eddie’s sucked into the world where the norm changes every day.

He’s grateful that things are getting better. He’s grateful that things are starting to get back to normal. But after having a reminder as big as the fourth, it’s hard to imagine that life can ever go back to perfectly normal.

But maybe, just maybe, if Eddie can adapt, if Eddie can continue to return back to the state of peace, Dustin can too.

Note: Here starts the last Dustin pov chapter. I keep saying these, but I can't believe it's almost over. I'm trying to get all of the parts of this fic out before the end of the year, so I'm starting to write the Steve and Eddie pov chapters. You guys are not ready for those.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 2)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns? notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English

Part. 1

“Think I’ll miss you forever, like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky.” - Lana Del Rey

They were all dead…

After we robbed a house in Piltover, the enforcers came after us. Vander said he’d handle it, leaving the bar under Vi’s and my care.

“I can’t stay here. I need to help him!” Vi paced back and forth, gripping her hair tightly.

“No, Vi. It’s too dangerous,” I said, stepping closer. “Vander will handle it. He always does.”

“This time it’s different, [Name],” she snapped, anger in her voice. “I feel like something’s wrong.”

“So you’re going after him? You’re just a kid, Vi!” I raised my voice.

“What do you want me to do?” she shouted back. “Without him, we’re nothing! I can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“We can’t do anything. We shouldn’t have done anything!” I shouted, my frustration boiling over. “I knew that mission was a bad idea.”

“You think I don’t realize that was a mistake?” she yelled, her eyes burning into mine. “Don’t you think I feel guilty for all this mess?”

“Please, stop fighting!” Powder cried, clutching Mylo and Claggor, who were staring at us with worry and fear.

Vi growled, grabbed a bottle, and hurled it to the ground, the sound echoing loudly. Powder flinched and ran into my arms, sobbing.

“It’s okay! Everything will be fine,” I whispered, holding her tightly.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said more calmly, trying to defuse the situation. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. We need to stick together now… as a family.”

Tears streamed down my face. Vi looked at us, her eyes glistening with tears, and came closer.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this,” she whispered.

“Vi, please don’t go,” I begged, crying while still holding Powder, who looked at her sister with tears in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this!”

“[Name], I have to help him,” she said, hugging us with tears streaming down her face.

“Then at least let us help.”

“No. You stay here. Please, I can’t lose anyone else,” she said, pulling away and pressing her forehead against mine.

I closed my eyes, feeling her breath against my face.

“Then come back to us, Vi. Promise you’ll come back.”

I opened my eyes, staring into hers.

“I promise,” she replied, and then I felt her lips against mine in a lingering, gentle kiss. It was simple, just two lips touching, but at that moment, I could swear fireworks were exploding inside me. She pulled away, smiling, and kissed Powder’s forehead.

“You four stay together. I’ll bring Vander back home. I swear it,” she promised, leaving, but not before looking back and smiling.

After some time, Mylo and Claggor went after her, insisting that Vander was their father too. I watched them leave, not knowing it would be the last time I’d see them alive.

I was torn, afraid, unsure whether I should go help or stay and care for Powder.

I wasn’t good at fighting and didn’t have any weapons.

So I decided to stay, thinking the three of them would do better on their own.

“[Name], I’m sleepy. Will you wake me up when they come back?” she asked, still in my arms.

“Of course! Don’t worry…”

She pulled away from my arms, walking toward the door at the back of the bar.

“[Name]?”

I turned to see her standing there, holding the door open and looking at me.

“I love you. Thank you for always taking care of me.”

Tears welled up in my eyes at her confession.

“I love you too, Powpow, and I’ll always be here to take care of you,” I said, smiling despite the heaviness in my heart.

“Don’t worry. Everything will be fine!” she said with her childish voice and closed the door.

The bar was empty, but I wouldn’t close it. I wanted to show Vander that I was ready to take care of the bar while he rested.

I cleaned the counter and organized the liquor bottles. Opening the drawer where we kept all the money, I noticed a photo among the bills.

It was the six of us, years ago. It seemed like it was taken shortly after he adopted us.

I smiled, seeing how happy we looked. I hoped with all my heart that this wouldn’t end tonight.

My stomach churned at the thought. I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm for all of them.

After hours, my body seemed to know something had happened. Why were they taking so long to come back? What if the enforcers caught them? Should I go after them? What if something worse had—

“They’re dead,” someone said above me, cutting off my thoughts.

I looked up and saw Sevika.

“What?” A shiver ran down my spine at the possibility of it being true.

“A bomb exploded where they were and killed almost everyone. Except the blue-haired girl.”

“Powder?” I ran through the back door, searching for the girl.

I turned over the blankets, opened the cabinets where she used to hide to play tricks on us. But I couldn’t find her.

“Powder?” I yelled, opening the chest she used as a hiding spot during our games.

I began crying, realizing she wasn’t anywhere. Vi had asked me for one thing, to take care of her sister, and I couldn’t even do that.

“I’m sorry, [Name],” Sevika said behind me.

“Where is Powder?” I asked angrily. I didn’t even know who I was mad at: myself? Powder? No… not Powder. She was just a child. She probably went looking for her sister, worried. I was the irresponsible one. I should have taken care of her, especially during this delicate moment.

I had been so irresponsible.

“Come with me, and I’ll show you.”

I followed Sevika until we reached an old building. We climbed the stairs until we arrived at a room where Powder was sobbing in Silco’s arms.

“Powder…” I whispered, my chest tightening.

“[Name]!” she ran to me, sobbing.

“What happened?” I asked, trying to hold back my own sobs.

“I just wanted to help… I promise! I didn’t know the explosion would hurt them!” Powder cried even harder, and my body froze.

“It’s okay! It’s okay, Powpow! I believe you!” I hugged the girl tightly, trying to stay calm.

After a moment, Silco approached us.

“I have a proposal for you two,” he said.

“We’re not interested,” I cut him off.

“You know you can’t take care of her on your own,” he replied.

The worst part was that he was right. What was I going to do now?

The harsh reality of the situation hit me hard. We had no one else. Everyone was gone. I didn’t know what to do.

Defeated, I asked, “What’s your proposal?”

“I knew you’d make the right choice. Well… my proposal is your loyalty, both of you, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need: food, clothes, protection, a home.”

“Loyalty?” I asked, confused. I didn’t think we’d be useful for anything.

“Yes. Loyalty! You’ll be useful for my business in the future.”

“We won’t be your puppets,” I said, holding Powder tighter.

“Relax, [Name]. You two will be my eyes. You’ll be my representatives. Don’t worry, you won’t do anything you don’t want to…”

I had no choice. Sighing, I replied, “Alright… I accept your proposal.”

“Good. Sevika will show you your room. I want to talk to Powder.”

“What are you going to say to her?” I asked angrily, holding her tighter.

“Nothing bad,” he whispered, approaching us. “She’s traumatized, [Name]. You’re just a child, and now she needs someone to take care of her… to take care of both of you.” When he got closer, his arms surrounded us.

“[Name], it’s okay! I trust him!” Powder looked at me with her red, tear-filled eyes.

“You can talk to her, but I’ll stay outside the room. When you’re done, she’ll go to the room with me.”

“Alright! You take care of yours, [Name]. That’s a good thing!”

I pulled away from the girl, pressing our foreheads together, and whispered:

“If anything happens, call me, alright?”

Sevika led me outside the room, closing the door. I felt tense, wondering what he was saying to Powder.

(POV Silco)

“Come here.” I called her, extending a chair for her to sit on. Slowly, she approached and sat down. “You care about [Name], don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she replied without hesitation.

“Then I need to ask you something. Something that will protect [Name].”

“What? I’ll do anything,” she said with determination.

“You can’t tell her that your sister is alive.”

“She’s not my sister anymore,” she replied angrily.

“Of course, she isn’t, but you can’t tell her that Violet is alive. Do you know why?”

“Why?” she asked, her eyes welling up with tears while her face remained angry.

“Because Violet abandoned you. And if [Name] finds out, she’ll be very sad, and we don’t want to see [Name] sad, do we?”

“No, of course not! I want to protect [Name]!” she exclaimed.

“I want to protect her too, which is why this will be our secret.”

7 Years Later

(POV [Name])

The last few years have been hard. Losing everyone changed us. Powder no longer existed. She was Jinx now and insisted on being called that.

But it wasn’t all bad. Silco took good care of us; he gave us everything we needed.

I found Ekko after some time, but he refused to join us. Even so, I took care of him however I could.

I found out that Benzo had also died that day, leaving the little guy completely alone.

Since he wouldn’t join us, I arranged a place for him to stay and always brought him what he needed. Years later, he built his own refuge, which I kept hidden from Silco… and Jinx.

He still didn’t accept me being on Silco’s side, even after I explained my reasons. Even so, sometimes we would talk, forgetting for a moment about our differences.

Jinx didn’t want to see him. She hated talking about the past and would have breakdowns if anyone crossed the line. I still wondered if I had done enough to care for her. If Vi would be disappointed in me…

Over the years, Sevika also helped me improve my physical abilities. I hate to admit it, but she became a maternal figure to me—someone to look up to. Someone I aspired to be like.

Walking through Zaun’s streets, I saw the state of the place I grew up in. I didn’t take pride in what Silco had done, but I reminded myself that I stayed by his side for Jinx. No matter how much she had changed, she was still that little girl who cried in Vander’s arms while he helped me during that massacre caused by Piltover. She was still Powder… deep down.

I was heading toward the old Last Drop when I caught sight of pink hair in the crowd. My heart raced, and the feelings from years ago rushed back. My hands started sweating, and my legs trembled.

The crowd blocked my view of the pink-haired figure. I pushed through the people, searching frantically for that familiar color.

I checked every possible entrance and corner, but I couldn’t find her.

I must have been imagining things. Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time my mind tricked me into seeing Vi walking the streets.

Sighing, I returned to the bar’s entrance, walked in, and sat at a stool by the counter. I ordered a drink. After finishing it, I asked for another and another, until the people around me blurred.

“One more,” I slurred.

“No more, [Name],” I heard a voice beside me.

“Leave me alone,” I whispered, resting my head on the counter.

“What happened to make you like this?” the voice spoke again. I looked up, squinting to recognize the person beside me. After a moment, I realized it was Sevika.

“I miss her, Sevika. I miss her so much,” I said, running my finger along the rim of my glass.

“You need to move on, [Name]. It’s been so long,” she said, running her hand through my hair.

“I know, but everything reminds me of her,” I said, feeling something wet on my face. “Today, I saw a girl with pink hair. I was so sure it was her, but of course, it wasn’t,” I said, realizing the wetness came from my tears.

“So that’s why,” she sighed. “Let’s go home.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking.”

She picked me up, slinging me over her shoulder.

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[mythalsknickers]

I hope op does not mine me jumping on. Justice was having a hard time coping with the world in Awakening. Anders who himself was a volatile personality to begin with offered his friend a body that was not dead. Anders prior to Justice was very much a rebel and rightfully so. But when someone who feels they have never felt Justice in a positive sense due to being harmed by the system. They are not the most safe environment for thier friend.

Add on top of this Anders and Justice did kill grey wardens after merging. From what I understand of the codex it was not something they willingly did but Anders felt the grey wardens were as much as a cage as the circle. Unfortunately Justice had started twisting before he merged with Anders and Anders long term anger accelerated that twisting from his purpose.

By the time they get to Kirkwall and Hawke meets them Anders is doing his best to aid Justice's purpose with a clinic in dark town and assisting or running the mage underground in Kirkwall. I stress this next part. Anders and Justice were friends this was not something unwilling or even done to gain more power. Anders wanted his friend safe.

Anders had no way of knowing what Kirkwall or his own anger would do to Justice. Safe spirit possession is not taught in circles and even if Anders was Alamarri he had been taken to a circle young enough that he did not understand the concepts fully.

Kirkwall is a dumpster fire in a pit of acid. Kirkwall had a lot of old blood magic that built that city and every day someone was getting possessed, abused by templars, sold to slavers and taken advantage of. Anders first love was made tranquil as an attempt to capture him. Justice snapping and taking control by act 2 was in alot of ways the only way he and Anders could survive. Anders was not in a place mentally to contemplate saving Justice. He wanted vengeance for Karl and for every mage hurt. It was easier to let Vengeance take control, it hurt less.

I will always hate the Anders romance. It was my first da2 mance and the manipulation and lying sucked. That being said Vengeance was also doing it for a mage Hawke and by act 3 he can't give Anders control they are both too far gone.

Compare this to Spite. For starters Spite is not "spiteful" they are a spirit of passion and determination in the body of someone who very much wants to live. Lucanis has the benefit of three mages who understand spirits on fundamental different levels, in addition with his own understanding of how spirits and demons work which not entirely in line with chantry doctrine. He has been to Rivian, in addition to having Taash's understanding of being raised in Rivain. The antivan crows have had magical inclined members and a mage tradition away from the chantry as well. Lucanis had a better toolkit even without the Veilguard for coping with Spite with the Veilguard it is clear to see why Spite is the equivalent of a neurotic house cat as opposed to Vegeance.

The one thing I think everyone forgets is Wynne from DAO was willingly possessed by a spirit of Faith and if you violate Wynne's conditions of faith in the temple of sacred ashes she will try to kill you. To protect the construct of her spirit.

Vengeance was a tragedy of Kirkwall that left even his friends unable to say if Anders was truly there.

You cannot compare the toolkits of any of them

i think it’s a little unfair to compare spite and justice’s ability to act normal against each other, or to act like spite just being a misbehaving cat diminishes how hard it was for anders justice to cope with possession. spirits in the material world get upset when they can’t fulfil the pure ideal they seek. spite is a creature of spite and gets to kill people trying to hurt it basically all the time. justice is a creature of justice and was living in fucking kirkwall

[scribblue]

Like Father, Like Son [A Bitten!Lloyd Fic]

"He was trapped inside himself, forced to bear witness to the loss of his own identity."

Lloyd Garmadon's life, and the fate of Ninjago itself, is altered forever when he is bitten by the Great Devourer.

2,416 Words ☆ Angst, Canon Divergent AU, Lloyd Garmadon needs a hug ☆ Rated T, no major warnings

This is the first of several oneshots I have planned for this AU, detailing important milestones in Lloyd's post-bite life!! Read it below, or on AO3!

𓆩✧𓆪

In a single agonizing instant, Lloyd understood his father.

As the Great Devourer’s fangs pierced through his sleeve and infused its villainous venom into his veins, as he was shaken like a ragdoll and left to bleed on the desert floor, as the first wave of inner turmoil overtook him, he understood it all. Somewhere in his half-awake stupor and blackening heart he found it, a glimmer of empathy at the end of the tunnel. So, this was the reason for his father’s fall from grace. For his poor choices. For his lengthy absence. It was something Lloyd had long been aware of, at least as much as a young child could be, yet nothing could have prepared him for the reality of his experience. 

Pure, unfiltered hatred and vile thoughts clouded an already swirling mind. He felt his morals being corroded away as though he'd been injected with acid rather than venom, stripping him of all sense of self. It was a metamorphosis of the soul he was powerless to stop, and his body was the cocoon he couldn’t escape, forcing him to lay still in the sand no matter how hard he willed himself to move. He was trapped inside himself, forced to bear witness to the loss of his own identity. 

No. No, he had to fight. He had to. Lloyd couldn’t let the venom win. He was the green ninja. He had the choice to be good. He couldn’t let everyone down. He couldn’t let his father down. He had to do better.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear the cries of his friends, the crack of wood as the Great Devourer went back for seconds. The bounty would surely not survive another attack by the giant snake. Lloyd hoped…he hoped…

It was like grasping for a fleeting memory. He wasn’t sure what he hoped for, if anything; it felt so far away. His body was burning hot and wracked with chills at the same time. His vision blurred and darkened at the edges. Was the wetness on his face sweat or tears? 

Someone called out to him. He couldn’t tell who it was over rushing blood in his ears and the violent storm that raged inside him. When he tried to respond, all that came out was a mangled groan. A hand took him by the shoulder and gave him a shake, which he barely registered; in his loss of blood, consciousness, and identity, this body no longer felt like his own. And it put up no fight as his consciousness was finally claimed.

𓆩✧𓆪

You’re a monster now. 

“How is he doing?” 

Despite a soft tone, the broken silence was enough to startle Wu from his trance. He whipped his head up to face Nya, who had entered the room as quietly as she’d spoken and now met his gaze with a worried expression. Wu wordlessly beckoned her closer and she complied, joining him by Lloyd’s bedside. The young boy was swathed under heavy blankets to sweat out a fever, though an elevated temperature was the least of his problems. He tossed and turned fitfully with eyes squeezed tightly shut, muttering gibberish.

“He is as stable as possible,” Wu said. “I wish we could offer more comfort but…I’m afraid we’ve done all we can do.”

Your friends will never trust you again. Your father will be so disappointed. 

“No, no…” Lloyd whined under his breath.

“You can’t wake him up?” Nya said, worrying the hem of her top with anxious fingers. “It’s been a whole day now.”

Wu let out a resigned sigh. “Lloyd is fighting against the venom as my brother did many, many years ago… this is just the beginning of a lifelong battle. If we do not allow him to emerge victorious from today’s struggle, he may never have the strength to fight it at all.” The words were true, despite Wu’s desperate wishes for the contrary. Seeing Lloyd in such a condition brought a wave of traumatic memories to the surface, and threw salt in wounds that never had a chance to properly heal. Wu couldn’t help but blame himself for Lloyd’s condition, as he had for Garmadon’s. If only he had been there.

You cannot fight the darkness in your soul. You must surrender to it. This is who you were always meant to be. 

Nya pulled up a stool next to Wu and settled into it, keeping her gaze trained on Lloyd. “There has to be something we can do.”

“I wish it as much as you do. But I— we were too late.” Wu cleared his throat to banish a slight tremble. “The venom cannot be removed now. He must learn to coexist with it.”

The world will pay for letting you down, and you will be the means for their demise. Pave the path for your future with their early graves. 

Lloyd yelped and began to toss more violently, tangling the blankets with his thrashing limbs. Wu rose to his feet and stepped forward to gently tug the coverings free of his flailing body, then fetched a washcloth from a dish of cold water at his bedside. He wrung out the excess and placed the cool material across Lloyd’s forehead. The relief was immediately apparent. The boy ceased his thrashing and settled into a state of relative calm, and Wu let out a sigh of his own moderate relief, settling back in his seat.

“What does it mean for the prophecy? Is he still the Green Ninja?” Nya asked with marked hesitancy.

That same question had weighed heavily on Wu’s mind in the past hours, and unfortunately, no amount of meditating brought him closer to an answer. “That will be revealed in time. I’m afraid the fate of Ninjago is uncertain, even to me… that said, one thing is clear: we must focus our efforts on Lloyd’s training tenfold. He will need extra guidance to not only hone his elemental powers, but to hone the darkness inside. We must help him find the light.”

Fighting back merely delays the inevitable. Give in. Give up. Accept your fate.

“No!” Lloyd yelled. He lurched upright with swinging arms, an outburst that elicited a jolt from the pair sitting beside him. He maintained the offensive stance for a moment, panting and surveying his surroundings with wide, fearful eyes. 

"Easy, Lloyd," Wu said gently. "You're safe now."

"Yeah, it's alright Lloyd– it's just us," Nya chimed in with a small, somewhat unconvincing smile.

Lloyd looked over at them, expression softening and fists lowering as recognition kicked in. “What…what happened? Where am I?”

Wu rose from his seat and approached Lloyd with a tentative gait. He studied him closely, as though a thorough enough examination would reveal the depths of the venom's effect. “You are in Ninjago City. Tell me, how do you feel? What do you remember?”

“I feel… awful.” He peeled the towel off of his forehead and Nya reached forward to take it from him, dipping it back in the water dish. “I had a horrible nightmare where I was bit by…the…” His eyes widened in a state of sickening realization, which he aimed at his bitten arm; bandaged tightly below the elbow and surely still sore. Faded patches of blood and venom stained the inner layers of cloth. “…I was bit by the Great Devourer.”

So, he was aware. At least that was one less bandaid for Wu to rip off, for lack of a less ironic metaphor. “Yes, I’m afraid your nightmare is reality,” he said. “I’m sorry, Lloyd. The Great Devourer’s venom now courses through your veins as well.”

Nya offered Lloyd the compress, which he stared at blankly before rejecting with a slight shake of his head. She set it aside. “I’m sorry too. We all are. I can’t even imagine how hard it is for you right now. Don't worry though, okay? We’re gonna get through this together. All of us.”

Lloyd averted his gaze to some far off corner of the second-rate apartment building they were holed up in, though his vacant stare was clearly not one of judgment for their living situation. There was anguish behind those eyes, anguish that Wu was most familiar with. That he dreaded the sight of. “Where’s my father?”

Wu and Nya shared a knowing glance, and Nya took it as her queue to exit. “I, uh…think I’ll leave you guys to it,” she said, sparing Lloyd another sympathetic smile and slipping out of the room. 

With Nya gone, Lloyd’s full attention snapped to Wu. “Where is my father?” he repeated with increased insistence.

Wu stroked his beard as he gathered the words to explain. His conflicting feelings about his brother's conflicting actions made it a particularly difficult task, especially with Lloyd’s intense scrutiny. Not that delaying the news made it any more bearable. “...When your father heard of the bite, and your compromised condition, he took the golden weapons and used them to defeat the Great Devourer in your name. His act of bravery saved us all. However... once the dust had settled, he was nowhere to be found. Along with the golden weapons.”

Lloyd’s face fell. In the silent room, one could hear his heart shatter from within. "He...left?” 

Wu didn’t respond. The answer was already evident and hung heavily in the air between them. Garmadon’s decision was not one Wu agreed with, but he wagered that speaking ill of him would not offer any solace; instead, he reached up under his hat and procured a scrap of paper curled into a roll. “I found this at the scene of the Great Devourer's demise. I think you need to read it.” 

Lloyd accepted the paper gingerly and unfurled it with equal caution. His eyes flitted across the messily scrawled ink. 

To my brother,

Take care of Lloyd for me. He will need someone to guide him through this, and, despite our quarrels, I can think of no one better suited than you. My own venom has run too deep, and I fear my presence would influence him in the wrong direction. I cannot allow that to happen. Please continue his teachings in my absence.

To my son,

I love you. I hope you will understand my decision one day, and possibly even forgive me, though it is certainly not owed. I am so sorry, Lloyd. I never wanted this for you. I know how terrifying and isolating it all is. No matter what happens, never lose sight of who you are at your core: a strong, adventurous young man with a heart of gold. Do not let the venom take that away from you. 

You must maintain balance within yourself, rely on your companion's wisdom when yours fails, and keep moving forward even when the road gets difficult. One way or another, I will be there by the end of it. And I will be so proud of you.

It's not your fault, Lloyd. 

Your father always,

Garmadon

Wu had reread the message enough times to nearly memorize it himself, so when Lloyd’s eyes began to well up with tears, it came as no surprise. He was taken aback, however, by the sudden shout of frustration as Lloyd balled the paper in his fist and threw it across the room. “I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!!” he cried, green eyes blazing red like a forest overtaken by flame. “How could he do this to me? How could he leave me again when he knows how much I need him? Doesn't he know how much I need him?!” 

Wu stumbled backwards and instinctively reached for his staff, realizing the mistake too late as Lloyd’s furious expression landed on him and twisted in betrayal. The fire behind his eyes extinguished, leaving a wounded child in its embers. “...You think I’m a monster like him.” His once furious tone was now trembling and dejected.

The staff fell to the floor with a hollow clatter. “Lloyd, no, it’s not like that. I was simply startled. Neither of you are monsters, this venom, it— it isn’t you. I would never– er, I know you would never...” Wu heaved a sigh. His tangled tongue was doing him no service. "I'm sorry, nephew."

Lloyd held his gaze for a beat before dropping his attention to his wounded arm, curling and uncurling his fingers wordlessly. He didn’t appear convinced, and Wu didn't blame him. Further placations surely couldn't ease such a troubled mind, so the pair remained in uneasy silence, accompanied only by a ticking clock on the wall and blooming dread inside Wu’s chest. He willed himself to fight it, just as Lloyd was fighting his own darkness. Strength was a skill he must model.

Wu turned to survey the room, eyes landing on the crumpled page. He plucked it from the floor and began carefully smoothing it out to the best of his ability. The words were still legible, if a bit creased and stained with teardrops. For this, Wu was grateful. They were important words, ones Wu hoped would one day soothe Lloyd's heart rather than break it. He rolled it back into a makeshift scroll and set it on Lloyd’s nightstand. 

“I’ll still have to fight him…won’t I?”

It was nearly whispered, as though the reality behind the statement was too heavy to bear fully. Wu considered Lloyd thoughtfully, taking note of his puffy, tear-stained face with a frown. “Hm…perhaps,” he admitted. “Although, that is a battle for another day, and one we have ample time to prepare you for. Tonight, allow yourself to rest, Lloyd. Your body and mind are still healing and need time to recover."

Lloyd sniffed and wiped his face into his sleeve. "Okay," he said, and Wu had never heard him sound so defeated. He eased back into bed and closed his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.

Wu lingered in the doorway for just a moment longer before turning off the light and slipping out to update the others on Lloyd’s condition. He wished he bore more hopeful news. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, to himself or the ninja, their situation had become far more dire. At this time, he could only pray external guidance would be enough to tip the scales of balance back to a steady equilibrium, lest all of Ninjago pay for Wu’s neglect.

Lest the vicious cycle continue.

[evabby]

POLAR OPPOSITES.

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

SUMMARY : you and abby anderson go to the same college, and are in the same english class — you’re polar opposites who clash at every turn. abby is carefree and confident, whereas you’re more focused and disciplined. when you’re forced to partner up on a project, your rivalry deepens, but an unexpected connection does too. as abby pushes you to loosen up, your dynamic shifts from competitive to something far more complicated.

AUTHOR NOTE : this is my first fic ever written!!! please be nice aaa i hope this is okay<3 also lowercase is intentional :)!

CHAPTER I : BREAKING THE ICE

she didn’t know what it was about you.

maybe it was the way you were always well presented, your hair perfectly straightened or tucked into a neat ponytail, not a strand loose.

maybe it was how driven you were, how focused you could be.

or maybe it was even how your answers were always precise, your hand darting up in front of abby whilst in class to quickly answer a question, yet again.

you were smart— abby knew she was smart too, but hell, it was cute how effortless you made it look.

abby, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. sure, she was smart, but she was loud. she would always comment on anything and everything, and would make sure everyone in class knew just exactly what she was thinking.

she brought energy to the classes discussions, even if she was one-upped by your quiet brilliance.

it was the tiny things,

how you would give abby that small, imperceptible smile when you answered a question she simply didn’t know the answer to,

how you’d subtly let out a quiet sigh when abby interrupted the professor, just enough to make abby feel like she’d done something wrong, but never enough to call her out.

it intrigued her.

abby wasn’t even surprised when professor calloway had set up yet another paired project, as always.

he paced around the room, pointing to each student and telling them who their partner was. you weren’t too worried, thinking you’d be paired with another person who would just make you do all of the work, because you’re ‘smart’, until the finger that was pointed at you was paired with the words ‘abby anderson.’

the room fell into an expectant silence. you swallowed back the annoyance in your throat as you scribbled down in your notebook about the project, feeling abby’s gaze burning a hole into the side of your face.

you knew abby would be a nuisance. you’ve never spoken to her before, but all you heard in each class was her voice. complaining, commenting and just talking all the time.

a grin spread abby’s face as she moved to sit next to you, dragging the stool as she sat down, crossing her arms and tilting her head to look at you next to her.

“guess i’ll get to know you a little better, huh?” abby grinned.

your gaze shifted to her, with no clear expression on it, except a flicker of annoyance that was hard to spot.

“let’s just get this over with.” you mumble.

your first study session with abby was at the library. all of your resources, perfectly organised into each folder, were spread out across the library table. of course, abby showed up late. you didn’t pay much attention to this, you were focused on just getting the project done, even if that meant doing it yourself.

abby walked into the quiet place with a coffee cup in her hand, she spotted you in the far corner, already surrounded by books and notes, scribbling down notes hastily as if you needed to be somewhere.

“late as usual, i see” you mumble, your gaze still on your notes instead of abby as she sits down opposite you.

abby grinned, “just giving you a headstart, so i can y’know, have the satisfaction of getting ahead of you.”

“don’t want you to get too used to winning, do we?”

you stay silent, attempting to seem unbothered as you continue to note down key information. your focus was on the textbook as you calmly turned another page.

abby leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, studying you. her gaze gave you an unsettling feeling low in your stomach.

“so, tell me,” abby said, breaking the silence. “how does it feel to always be the smartest person in the room? must get pretty boring, huh?”

your eyes flickered to meet abby’s, a glimpse of challenge in her gaze.

“i don’t think it’s boring.” you say, “it’s just a matter of doing the work.”

abby smirked, leaning back in her chair.

“oh im sure it is angel, but i can’t help but notice you never seem to have any fun with it. do you even know how to have fun?”

“maybe im just more focused on getting results than playing games.”

abby’s grin widened. she was loving this. “so serious. i bet you’ve never even had a decent prank pulled on you.”

you finally put your pen down, crossing your arms as you stare at abby.

“and i don’t plan on being the subject of one, thanks.”

abby raised an eyebrow. “you sure? you seem like you’d be fun to mess with.”

you narrow your eyes at her. “i doubt that.”

abby hummed, leaning back in her chair to observe all the carefully placed notes dotted over the table as you pick up your pen again, continuing to write down your notes.

this became a routine.

you and abby at the library every day after school, studying together — well, mainly you.

the next few weeks, your study sessions, which had initially been marked by bickering and pointed remarks, began to shift into something different. sometimes it felt like you were even friends.

at first, it was subtle. abby still teased you relentlessly, and you still responded with exasperation, but sometimes you both got along pretty well, despite your clear differences.

small moments that were embedded to your head brought you both closer.

“wait,” abby said, holding up her hand and frowning at her laptop. “are you sure that’s right? i think you missed a step.”

“excuse me?” you glanced up, your pen pausing mid air.

abby turned her laptop towards you, pointing at the screen. “see? if you don’t account for this, the whole thing falls apart.”

you leaned in, your eyes narrowing as you scanned the problem. “huh,” you said after a moment, begrudgingly. “you’re.. right.”

abby smirked , leaning back in her chair. “i know, i’m amazing.”

“you’re impossible is what you are.”

“and yet, here we are,” abby quipped, gesturing to the mess of papers between them.

you shook your head, but didn’t hide the small smile playing at your lips.

another time, you had arrived late to one of your study sessions, your normally immaculate appearance slightly disheveled.

abby raised an eyebrow as you dropped into your chair with a huff.

“rough day?” abby asked, her tone softer than usual.

“you have no idea,” you mutter, your voice quiet as you pull out your laptop. “my professor moved the deadline for our final essay up by a week, and i had to skip lunch to make the adjustments.”

abby frowned, rummaging through her bag before pulling out a granola bar and sliding it across the table.

“what’s this?”

“it’s called a granola bar,” abby said, smirking. “you eat it when you forget to take care of yourself. don’t worry, it won’t bite.”

you rolled your eyes but took the bar, unwrapping it and taking a small bite. “thank you,” you said quietly, your tone soft and genuine.

“don’t mention it,” abby said, her expression softening into a smile.

you found yourself letting your guard down more often around abby. this was something you weren’t used to, you wasn’t sure when it had started, but there were times when abbys teasing didnt geel like an attack — times were it felt almost comforting.

and abby, who had approached their dynamic as a fun game, found herself genuinely looking forward to your time together. your passion for the project, the way your face lit up when you did something right — it was captivating in a way abby hadn’t expected.

one evening, as you were both packing up after a particularly productive session, abby glanced over at you.

“you know, we make a pretty good team.”

you pause, your bag slung over your shoulder. “don’t let it get to your head.” you say, but there was no bite in your voice.

abby grinned. “too late.”

a few weeks later, abby walked in for another one of your study sessions.

she immediately spotted you, immersed in your notes, your hair tied into a neat ponytail. abby couldn’t help but watch for a moment, you had this way about you: serene, focused.

as abby slid into her chair opposite you, you didn’t pay any attention. not even a hello, not even a quick glance. her classic coffee she usually brought sloshed about in the cup as she placed it on the desk.

“you’re not really a studier, are you?” you say, looking at abby.

sure, abby was smart. really smart. but you’d never caught her actually studying with full focus, her intelligence seemed to be natural.

“i prefer to think of it as ‘studying in style’” abby smirks, picking up the coffee cup and taking a long sip, her eye contact with you never breaking.

you look away, back at your notes. “if you mean fiddling around with distractions, then sure, i guess so.” you mumble.

abby chuckled, placing her cup down back onto the desk a bit too forcefully, on top of one of your flashcards.

“i’ll have you know, im very efficient. you could learn a thing or two from me.”

your eyes narrow slightly at her, as you slowly shove her coffee cup towards abby, moving your flashcard to the correct place.

“really? because you seem to think you can get by on distractions and your ‘charm’.”

abby leaned in slightly, adopting an exaggerated, sultry voice.

“oh, i think you’re underestimating me, angel. you wouldn’t want to be too dismissive. who knows? maybe im smarter than you think.”

you stiffen, your eyes flashing with with annoyance. but you didn’t snap back, no. instead, you picked up a notebook, opening it to a page full of neat handwriting.

instead of providing abby an answer she wanted, you carried on writing in your notebook.

“you know,” abby said, casually. “it’s cute.”

you furrow your brows at her, your pen stilled as you look at her in confusion.

“how serious you are about college. all those books.. those notes,” she gestured vaguely at the pile of textbooks and papers in front of you.

“do you even take a break, or are you too busy being the perfect student?”

you look back down at your work, staring at it. you knew abby was only teasing you, but still. abby could see the slight flush on your neck. “i don’t need breaks to get things done.” you replied, your voice tight.

abby leaned back, taking another sip of her coffee before she placed it back on top of your flashcards. you look at her for a moment, knowing what she was trying to do. abby knew she was getting under your skin.

abby pretended to study all of the papers across the table.

“‘m sure it must be nice to be perfect all the time, hm?”

this time, you looked up. your expression was slightly tighter, the kind of expression abby would see from your classroom debates — when you were trying to hide your frustration.

“not perfect,” you mumble, looking back down at your work. “just.. focused. i don’t let distractions get in my way.”

abby raised her eyebrow again, her grin widening.

“distractions, huh?” she took a deliberate pause, leaning in just a little closer. “does that mean i’m a distraction to you?”

your gaze flickered. just for a second, abby saw it — the briefest hint of something in your eyes, something she couldn’t quite place. it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replace by your usual mask.

“i think,” you said, quietly and still looking at your work, gripping onto your pen tightly. “you’re distracting yourself.”

abby leaned back, almost laughing.

“fair enough,” abby said, “already on chapter forty?” abby waved a hand over your notes. “you sure you’re not just trying to impress me with all you’re knowledge? because trust me, it’s working.”

your jaw tightened,

“i don’t need to impress anyone, anderson. i just need to get this project done.”

abby could hear the frustration in your voice, no matter how much you tried your best to hide it. and for some reason, that only made abby more determined to keep pushing. she loved to get a ride out of you, loved the way your jaw would set a little too tightly, your fingers gripping your pen a little too hard.

“you know,” abby said, fiddling with her coffee cup. “i’ve heard it’s hard to concentrate when you’re annoyed. kind of makes you second guess your whole strategy, doesn’t it?”

your eyes flicked to abby,

“im not annoyed.”

“of course you’re not, you’re just perfectly calm and collected whilst you’re seething on the inside.”

you didn’t respond, deciding to close your textbook and go on your laptop. the library was quiet, the soft tapping of your fingers heard on your keyboard. eventually, you were fully focused, your eyebrows furrowed as you typed at lightning speed.

abby’s gaze was fixed on you from opposite the table.

you felt her gaze, and looked up at her.

“what?” you whispered

“i like watching you work.” abby said lazily.

you look back at your laptop, giving her a weird expression. “good. maybe you’ll learn something.”

“ouch,” abby chuckled, unfazed. “i mean it. you’re like a machine. do you ever stop? breathe? blink?”

you sigh sharply, your fingers pausing mid-keystroke.

“what do you want, abby?”

abby leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table and tilting her head to the side.

“i just want to know why you’re so terrified of having fun,”

your eyes finally met abby’s, narrowed with irritation.

“i’m not terrified of fun. im just not wasting my time on pointless things when theres actual work to be done.”

abbys lips curved into a sly grin.

“see, thats where we disagree, i think fun is essential. like, its scientifically proven to make you more productive.”

you raise your brow, almost mocking her.

“uh huh.. and which documentary did you pull that from?”

abby shrugged, smiling. “abby andersons tips, tricks and facts. you should try watching it, first tip? there’s a party tonight, and you’re coming with me.”

you stared at abby like she just killed your family. “absolutely not.”

“why not?” abby pressed, leaning closer. “don’t tell me you’ve never been to a party, you’re a college student, not a nun.”

you scoff, returning your attention to your laptop to avoid eye contact with abby.

“i’ve been to parties. they’re loud, crowded, and a complete waste of time.”

“wow, angel.” abby said, feigning shock. “that’s the most boring sentence ive ever heard. what are you, eighty?”

your jaw clenched, your fingers resuming their rapid typing. “some of us actually care about this project, abby. you might wanna try it sometime.”

abby laughed softly, unfazed by your words. “oh, i care. but im also smart enough tto know we’re not going to burn out if we take a couple hours to, y’know, live a little.”

you didnt reply, your focus glued stubbornly to your screen. abby decided to up the ante.

“come on,” she said, “it’s not just any party. it’s the end of semester blowout. music, drinks.. and me, obviously.”

your typing faltered for a half a second before you quickly recovered.

“that’s not exactly selling a point.”

abbys hand meets her chest dramatically, pretending to be hurt.

“you wound me, angel. i thought you liked my company.”

you sighed, finally looking up to glare at abby.

“what part of ‘i’m not going to a party’ do you not understand?”

“the part where you think you have a choice,” abby said, her grin widening once again. “because im not giving up until you say yes.”

you roll your eyes.

“you’re impossible.”

“and you’re stubborn.” abby shot back. leaning in just enough to make you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “but i think you like the challenge.”

your lips parted, your retort on the tip of your tongue, but abby cut you off.

“look, i get it. you’re all about work, work, work. but you’re going to crash and burn if you don’t take a breather once in a while. this isn’t just me being annoying — this is me looking out for you.”

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by the sincerity in abbys tone.

“im not saying you have to get wasted or dance on tables, okay?” abby continued, “just show up, hang out for an hour and see what happens. if you hate it, ill personally escort you home. deal?”

you frown, your gaze flickering back to your laptop as you weigh your options.

“i don’t even have anything to wear.” you finally said, your voice quieter.

abbys grin returned, victory written all over her face.

”that’s an easy fix. wear anything that doesn’t scream, ‘i’ve been studying for 12 hours straight,’ i’m sure youll look amazing.”

you roll your eyes, but abby didn’t miss the faint pink tinge creeping up your neck.

“this is a terrible idea.” you mutter,

abby hums, standing up and grabbing her bag.

“eight o’clock. don’t be late. i’ll text you the address.”

“i haven’t even agreed yet!” you call after her, but abby was already walking away.

“see you tonight!”

you groan, burying your face in your hands. what have you gotten yourself into?

chapter i > chapter ii || series masterlist.

[simplyraeblue]

King and Captive

(Hunter and Hunted Spin-Off) read here

a chance meeting with Sukuna quickly turns into a nightly routine you can't escape. as the lines between game and something more blur, you start to wonder—how long can you keep playing, or will Sukuna make you his next conquest? !Sukuna x !femreader

chapter warnings/tags: swearing, drinking, use of "princess", not much of anything this part tbh. eventual smut warning tho of course ( • ᴗ - ) A/N: THE SPIN OFF IS FINALLY HERE! of course, because I'm obsessive I've already written 3 full parts... I suck at writing beginnings though, so bear with me as things are a lil slow in my opinion! I hope you all enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Hunter and Hunted; and be prepared for MORE smut cause its SUKUNA OF COURSE.

index part one | part two

part one word count: 2,762

Christmas had come and gone, and you had stepped into the new year with an even angrier outlook on life than you’d had before. sure, last year had been rough; you’d been cheated on and promptly dumped for someone else, and the bittersweet icing on the cake was when you found out your ex had gotten engaged over the holiday season. you’d done what any sane person would do – drank away your feelings.

the past few weeks, your friends could often find you at the bottom of a mug, angry eyes watching as you toyed with the coaster at any bar you’d walked into. you need – no, wanted – vengeance. you imagined the look on your ex’s face if you ran into him with another, maybe hotter, guy on your arm. men these days were only looking to get their dicks wet, how hard could it be to snag one?

you came to realize it was incredibly hard.

any man that gave you the time of day seemed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel, consistently sleezy and looking like they hadn’t showered in days. or worse, still lived in their mother’s basement. the men you worked with were no better. constantly watching your ass as you walked by, attempting to slyly cop a feel in the break room, and so on.

so, here you were, walking down the street to a pub around the corner from your job to grab a drink. you had a one-track mind for this sort of thing, oblivious to your surroundings until two men stepped into your path to stop you.

“excuse me.” you muttered as you took a step to the side, trying to go around them. before you could get back to your mission one of their hands reached out and snagged your wrist. ugh, more disgusting pigs. “I’ll ask you once to kindly let go off me.”

“c’mon pretty, we just wanna talk t’ ya.” the bigger, burlier one gave you a sly grin that made your skin crawl.

“yea, walking around with a skirt that short we couldn’t help but notice ya.” the one holding your wrist tightened his grip slightly. your frown stretched down your face as you took a moment to assess the situation. what was it your friends always said? right – be loud, draw attention, scream fire and whatnot.

“oi, get your fucking hands off me!” you shouted, tugging your wrist against the firm hold.

“what do ya expect when ya dress like a whore?” one of them snapped as they stepped closer. you were only dressed for work; skirt that came down mid-thigh, button up blouse that covered every inch of your skin, so how was this outfit whorish?

“she’s got a mouth on her, huh?” they nudged each other as you struggled to get free. with your free hand, you made a fist and pulled it back. you wouldn’t be able to seriously injure them, that was for sure, but you could at least distract and get away.

“I said leave me the hell alone, twatbags!” you shouted, fist shaking but staying firm in a pulled-back position. if they made one more move, you’d muster up the courage and hit one of them.

suddenly, both men went wide-eyed in front of you and your wrist was released from it’s prison. hah, so my scare tactics worked, you thought. you’d have to pat yourself on the back later for this achievement. “aw, little ole me got you boys scared? looks like you’re about to wet your pants.” you smirked, crossing your arms in triumph.

until their eyes traveled from you, to over your head.

“these guys bothering you?”

your body tensed at the deep, baritone voice from behind you. so that’s what had the men backing off – but that scared? whoever was behind you had to be huge, like a wrestler or something. you imagine big, bulging muscles and a towering figure, and you gulped.

“I believe she asked you to leave her alone.” whoever was behind you continued, and with each word you almost shivered. his voice exuded strength, even something like anger laced in his tone. or was it just annoyance? “oh, forgot to add the twatbags part. that was a good descriptor.”

the two men stepped back and the other man stepped forward, now standing slightly in front of you. you dared to scan his figure – not a body builder, but definitely not small. he wore a black compression tee that showed off his muscles, and you could see the tattoos running all across his skin, intertwined and connected everywhere you looked. your eyes caught on his light pink hair, slicked back but disheveled on the sides as if he’d been running a hand through the strands.

“while I’d love the entertainment of watching her take a swing at you, I don’t think you want to see what happens if you retaliated.” the man merely crossed his arms before looking down at you. he did in fact tower, maybe just over you but he was still above average height. something flickered in his eyes as they met yours, and you could only stare at him speechlessly.

he hadn’t even had to do anything before the men scoffed and walked away, albeit hurriedly like a fire had been lit under their asses. you and the man watched as they scurried down the sidewalk, and you finally let out a sigh when they disappeared from sight.

“thanks for that. although I’m pretty sure I had it covered.” you felt him look at you as you watched the distance – double checking that they were in fact gone before you left the protection of the stranger.

he chuckled lowly as he shook his head. “looks like you did. but, I thought I’d provide backup just in case.”

but before he could continue, you were already walking away in the opposite direction of the two men. all you had wanted was a damn drink, and by god you were going to get one.

you could hear the faint echo of footsteps behind you, but you tried to push it out of your mind, focusing instead on the door to the bar in front of you. with a swift motion, you yanked it open, stepping inside and hoping to lose the stranger following you.

but when you heard those same footsteps following you in, your patience snapped. you turned around, irritation bubbling to the surface. “are you following me?” you demanded, locking eyes with the man who had been trailing behind you. “do I need to be worried about you too?”

he just chuckled, his casual demeanor only adding to your annoyance. “do you think I owe you something now?” you shot back, trying to keep your tone serious, though it was clear he didn’t take you seriously at all.

his laughter echoed in the small space; a mocking sound that only made your frustration grow. “actually,” he said, his voice steady, “I came back to finish the beer I left to save your ass.” he gestured nonchalantly at a knocked-over bar stool and the half-empty drink sitting nearby, the remnants of the drink he’d been enjoying before the whole mess began.

the heat of embarrassment crept up your neck as you processed his words. “oh.” you mumbled, feeling the awkwardness seep into your skin. "sorry. considering the kind of men I’ve just dealt with, I didn’t know if you were some sleazeball too.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “sleazeball? you sound like my little brother,” he said with a smirk, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

you couldn't help but throw a jab back. “then he has good taste in vocabulary.”

the man’s grin only grew wider, clearly amused by the bite in your tone. his eyes glinted with something like genuine entertainment as he took a step closer. “my name’s Ryomen Sukuna, by the way,” he said, his voice dripping with casual confidence.

you narrowed your eyes, studying him with suspicion. there was something about the way he carried himself that set your nerves on edge. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable giving my full name to a complete stranger,” you replied, your tone a mix of caution and defiance.

Sukuna simply shrugged, as though your response didn’t faze him in the least. “but I just introduced myself, after acting as your knight in shining armor, I might add.” he gave a lazy stretch, his posture relaxed as he leaned against the bar, his gaze fixed on you as if daring you to challenge him further.

you didn’t back down. “that doesn’t mean I know you now,” you said, your eyes still narrowed. you turned away from him, flagging down the bartender who had just started to clean the counter. “a drink. whiskey, neat,” you said, your voice firm as you slid a few bills across the bar.

normally, you wouldn’t dare drink hard liquor on a weekday at five o’clock, but goddamn you needed it now. your nerves were on edge, but a stronger feeling had settled within you since the start of this particular conversation.

he was unbelievably attractive. pierced ears, tattooed skin, and a smile reminiscent of the devil across his lips. so so not your usual type. but then again, your type had cheated on you. Sukuna’s presence was almost overwhelming – strength, confidence or cockiness – the air stilled around him like it was intruding his space.

Sukuna watched you with a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “then get to know me,” he said, his voice low and almost coaxing, as if the idea of you refusing was an amusing thought to him.

you didn’t hesitate in your response. “buy me a drink and I’ll consider it,” you shot back, your tone playful but laced with a challenge. you’d be damned if you’d make it that easy for him, knowing all to well the type of men that seem to flirt with you always turn out to be disgusting.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your boldness, but said nothing as the bartender set your drink down in front of you. it was clear you weren’t going to make things easy for him, but that only seemed to fuel his curiosity.

you were already fascinating him. from Sukuna’s first look at you, ready to stand your ground against two grown men, to now acting defiant against him even as he could see the tension in your shoulders with every sentence you spoke. were you feigning confidence or was it real? he liked the way you talked back to him; it made the conversation more entertaining, and he eased into it with pleasure.

Sukuna’s eyes never left you as you took your drink from the bartender, the smooth amber liquid catching the dim light of the bar. he didn't immediately respond, just leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression playing across his features. for a moment, you wondered if he was going to let the challenge slide.

then, to your surprise, he pushed off the bar with a slow, deliberate movement and took a step toward you. his presence felt heavier now, more intense. heat rolled off of him and over you, his cologne drowned your senses. “a drink, huh?” he mused, his voice taking on a playful edge, like he was toying with you. “that’s all it takes to get you to talk to me?”

you took a sip of your whiskey, cringing at the burn as you met his gaze head-on. “depends on the drink,” you replied, the hint of a smirk curling at your lips. you had no intention of giving in that quickly, not when he still felt like a puzzle you weren’t sure you wanted to solve.

Sukuna chuckled softly, the sound deep and almost predatory, like he was enjoying the chase. “I think I can handle that,” he said, raising a hand to signal the bartender. his attention briefly shifted to the man behind the counter, but when it returned to you, his expression had softened, just a fraction, though the amusement never fully left his eyes. “is whiskey your usual, then?” he asked, his tone suddenly more casual, almost conversational.

you tilted your head, considering him for a moment. “I’m not sure it’s the drink I’m worried about,” you said, leaning in just slightly, your voice quieter now. “it’s the company.”

he gave you a look that said he wasn’t fazed by your words, not in the slightest. "trust me," he replied smoothly, "I’m better company than most people you'd find in this place."

he wasn't wrong. there was something undeniably magnetic about him, an energy that drew you in despite your better judgment. you could sense there was more to him than what he was showing, and a part of you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really after.

the bartender placed a fresh drink in front of Sukuna — a glass of something darker, likely whiskey as well, and more expensive than the one you had just ordered. Sukuna didn’t touch it immediately, instead shifting his stance so he was fully facing you, his eyes now narrowing just slightly, as if sizing you up. like you were a snack he wanted to take a bite out of.

"alright, I’ll bite," he said, his voice a low murmur as he watched you closely. “what’s your story?”

you took another sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “maybe I’ll tell you,” you said slowly, deliberately, “but it’s going to cost you more than just a drink.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into another half-smile, his confidence never wavering. “I’m up for the challenge. what’s the price?” his tone had shifted again, all business now, but there was still an edge of that playful intensity behind it.

for the briefest moment, you almost felt like you were playing a game with him, something neither of you had agreed on but that you both instinctively understood. you hesitated, eyes scanning his face for any hint of vulnerability — but there was none.

“get me another round, and we’ll talk,” you finally said, giving him a sly smile that matched the gleam in your eyes.

Sukuna didn’t need another word. he turned away, reaching for the glass, a quiet satisfaction in his movements. he knew the game was far from over, but there was no doubt in his mind that he’d be the one to win it.

you lifted your eyes to meet his, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. he was still an enigma, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed but with an edge that hinted at something more dangerous beneath.

“you’re a man of few words,” you observed, your voice playful but with an undercurrent of challenge. “or is it that you’re waiting for me to spill my life story?”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your attempt to provoke him. “I’ve got all the time in the world,” he replied smoothly, voice low and even. you could feel his eyes on you, studying you in a way that made you want to pull back, but also something else—a curiosity, maybe even an unspoken challenge.

you took another sip, avoiding his gaze for a moment. “and what’s in it for me?” you asked, your voice steady but carrying a hint of sarcasm. “why should I bother getting to know you?”

Sukuna’s smile deepened, almost like he was savoring the moment. “because,” he said, his voice now tinged with something a little darker, “I’m not just any stranger. and I think you’ll find out, sooner or later, that I’m worth your time.”

his confidence was almost infuriating, but you couldn’t deny that something about him intrigued you. maybe it was his audacity, or maybe it was the mystery that clung to him like a second skin. or possibly, that he could be the hottest man you’d ever laid eyes on. either way, you weren’t ready to walk away just yet.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you replied, a small challenge in your voice, but this time, there was a flicker of curiosity in your gaze too.

Sukuna met your challenge with a steady, unwavering stare, his smirk never fading. “then I guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out, won’t you?”

it wasn’t an offer. it wasn’t even a question. it was a promise. and whether you liked it or not, you were beginning to realize that you might just be caught up in his game—whether you wanted to be or not.

it wasn’t an offer, or even a question. it was a damn promise. whether you realized it, you were beginning to get caught up in his game – it was inevitable.

⊹. ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁₊ ⊹

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @mangiswig @aldebrana @ravester @marie-is-in-the-dark @makingtimemine @sorahatake @osohchoso @csolya I tagged some people that interacted A TON with Hunter and Hunted who I appreciate so so much ; so if you were tagged and would like to be removed just let me know! ♡ I hope this fic is as loved as Hunter and Hunted! . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[httpvomitello]

Fred Weasley x reader who hides their chronic pain/illness? With lots of comfort and reassurance. Thanks :)

YES, ANOTHER FRED REQUEST, I'M SO HAPPY! I hope you like it ~ ♡♡

In Sickness and in Strength *⁠.⁠✧

fred weasley x gn!reader

The cold wind of late December crept through the cracks of the Burrow, making you tug the thick quilt tighter around your shoulders. The chaos of the Weasley household had been a welcome distraction for most of the holiday, but today you were struggling to keep your usual mask in place. Fred was in the next room, regaling his family with an exaggerated tale about a rogue Extendable Ear mishap. His laughter rang out like a warm melody, but you couldn’t muster the energy to join him.

Your body ached from head to toe, the familiar, invisible weight pressing against your bones. It was the kind of pain that no spell could erase, the kind you’d learned to live with in silence. You loved Fred, more than words could express, but how could you burden him with this? He was sunshine incarnate, the kind of person who made the world brighter just by existing. You couldn’t dim that light by telling him about the storm constantly raging inside you.

“Y/N?” Fred’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, gentle but curious. You looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe, his trademark grin softening into something more tender.

“Hey,” you said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Done telling tales already?”

He crossed the room in a few strides and plopped down beside you on the worn sofa, his arm immediately draping over your shoulders. “They’ve had enough of my genius for now,” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “You, on the other hand, have been suspiciously quiet all day. What’s going on?”

You shrugged, your pulse quickening. “Just tired, that’s all. It’s been a long week.”

Fred’s brow furrowed slightly as he studied your face. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Tired doesn’t usually make you look like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Come on, love, what’s really going on?”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening as you tried to come up with an excuse. But Fred wasn’t the kind of person you could lie to easily. His gaze was too steady, too sincere.

“It’s nothing,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred shifted, turning to face you fully. His hand found yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Y/N, you know you don’t have to hide things from me, right? Whatever it is, I’m here. Always.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you could stop them, they spilled over, hot and unrelenting.

“I—” You took a shaky breath, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve been dealing with this for a while. It’s… it’s chronic pain. Some days are worse than others, but I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to be a burden. You’ve already got so much going on, Fred, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to take care of me too.”

Fred’s grip on your hand tightened, and when you finally looked up, his expression was a mix of heartbreak and determination.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “You could never be a burden to me. Never. I don’t care how much you’re struggling or what you’re dealing with—I want to be there for you. That’s what love is, yeah? You’ve been there for me through everything, and I’ll be damned if I let you go through this alone.”

A fresh wave of tears spilled over, but this time, they were tears of relief. Fred pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he murmured soft reassurances into your hair.

“We’ll figure this out together,” he promised. “Whatever you need, i will make it work. If you’re having a bad day, you tell me, and I’ll do whatever I can to make it better. And on the good days, we’ll celebrate. But I need you to promise me something too.”

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. “What’s that?”

“Promise me you’ll stop trying to handle this on your own,” he said. “Because you don’t have to, Y/N. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with a mix of gratitude and love. “I promise.”

Fred smiled then, his usual mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “Good. Now, how about we sneak some of Mum’s mince pies and curl up by the fire? I reckon a bit of warmth and sugar might be just what the Healer ordered.”

You laughed despite yourself, the sound lightening the heaviness in your chest. “That sounds perfect.”

[innytoes]

The call came in just as he was sticking more photos to his board. He was so close to cracking this case, he just needed a little more evidence. Maybe find a source willing to talk to him. Either willingly or unwittingly, at this point he didn’t even care. He wouldn’t reveal his sources anyway, and if he could just figure out where to find something damning…

“Boldheart,” he said into the phone, attention still mostly on the board. Maybe it needed some string. Or at the very least some of those flames Nimona had drawn and cut out for him to add.

“Mister Boldheart, this is Principal Conroy from Gloreth Elementary School.”

Oh no.

He didn’t quite manage to keep in his sigh.

“What happened this time?” he asked. He refused to say ‘what did she do now’, if only because Nimona usually had a reason for whatever chaos she wrought. Like trying to free the pet gerbil from ‘his stinky, tiny prison’ or punching a kid who made fun of her because ‘you couldn’t even get two normal foster parents, you ended up with two foster dads’.

Of course the school hadn’t done anything about the other kid. He was a legacy at the private school, and he’d ‘just been stating facts, after all’.

“It appears Nimona bit another child.”

Well, that was new.

“What did the other kid do?” he asked, knowing he wouldn’t get a straight answer until he talked to Nimona.

“Mister Boldheart, this school has a zero tolerance policy,” the principal started, and he pulled the phone away from his ear, mouthing along the words mockingly has he got his keys.

Part-way through her little rant, he cut her off. “I’m on my way,” he said, hanging up the phone before she could answer.

Nimona was sitting in what Ballister was coming to think of as ‘her’ chair. The one furthest away from the principal’s door. Her face was like thunder, arms crossed in front of her defensively. But it eased a little when she saw who was picking her up.

As much as he and Ambrosius tried the old Good Cop, Bad Cop routine, Nimona had very quickly learned they were both complete pushovers. And that while Ballister could be stern when it mattered, he wasn’t about to punish her for no reason. He’d always hear her out, and he’d always explain why a rule was a rule and why it shouldn’t be broken. (Or when it could be, under certain circumstances.)

Also, he was fifty per cent more likely than Ambrosius to take her out for ice-cream when she got suspended for no reason, again.

“What happened?” he asked, crouching down in front of them.

“Chad wouldn’t stop trying to poke me,” Nimona said. “I told him to keep his hands to himself or I’d bite him. It’s not my fault he didn’t believe me.”

“I never touched her!” Chad shouted from the other side of the hall. His hand was bandaged rather dramatically all the way down to his elbow. “I even said ‘I’m not touching you!’”

Ah. Ballister knew that game all too well from his own time at Gloreth Elementary. Being the scholarship kid had made him an easy target.  

“Come on,” he said, putting his hand on Nimona’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t you need to talk to the Principal first?” they asked.

He did, but he really didn’t want to. Instead, he looked at the ancient secretary, who’d always had a bit of a soft spot for him when he went to this school. “How long is she suspended?”

“Just the rest of the week,” the secretary answered. It was Wednesday, so not too bad. “The Principal wants to have a serious talk with you, though.”

Ballister knew exactly what talk she wanted to have. It was the same one she’d had when they enrolled Nimona, suggesting that Gloreth Elementary had a rather rigorous curriculum, and perhaps ‘someone like Nimona’ would be better suited for a ‘less demanding environment’.

Another thing he remembered all too well from his own time at this private school.

Never mind that Nimona’s grades were at the top ten per cent of her class. Well, when she remembered to hand in her homework. And it was legible between the drawings of sharks and dragons and who knew what else. But still, it wasn’t the curriculum that was bothering her.

“I’ll send Ambrosius by tomorrow morning, after his shift,” Ballister said. Because suddenly, when The Golden Boy Legacy Kid himself stopped by it was much harder to say no, or that their kid didn’t belong here.

They walked out of the school, Nimona’s fuzzy pink book bag hanging from his good shoulder, her hand clutching the wrist of his prosthetic arm. They were already too far down the hall to hear the Principal call them back, and Ballister knew she was too dignified to run after them.

“Look, I get it,” he said once they were outside, because he really, really did. “But you can’t go around biting people.”

“Why not? He deserved it,” Nimona said, sulkily kicking at a pebble.

“Because you don’t know where his hand’s been, it’s gross.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best argument for not biting people, but it was one that was probably most effective for this particular kid. He and Ambrosius could sit her down and explain why biting people was morally wrong some other time.

Nimona was silent for a moment, before sticking out their tongue and running her own hands over it. “Blergh, you’re right!”

See? Effective parenting.

“How do you feel about milkshakes and a stake out?” he asked.

“A stake out?” The hunched shoulders and frown disappeared, replaced by a bounce and a bright, sharp smile. “Who’re we taking down?”

“Nobody just yet,” he said. “But I could use a sidekick following one of VerdAgra’s employees.”

“Yes, boss!” Nimona cheered, all but throwing herself into the passenger’s seat. “Can I have a chocolate-peanut butter-caramel milkshake?”

“Sure thing,” he said, even though that sounded like a lot. Nimona beamed and rummaged in the dashboard console to find their Stake Out Sunglasses, handing him his own. Because you couldn’t do a stake out without them, of course.

Tonight, he’d have a talk with Ambrosius about how maybe Gloreth Elementary and Gloreth Prep weren’t the best place for Nimona. Not because she couldn’t handle the curriculum, but because the school had no interest in stopping the bullying of anyone they deemed lesser. He didn’t want her to suffer the way he had. Sure, he’d gotten into a great university at the end, but had it really been worth it?

Maybe homeschooling was an option. Or another school. Anywhere that didn’t try to crush his kid’s amazing spirit, natural curiosity, and sense of self.

“Can I tase him if he tries to run?”

“No!”

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

when you made a mistake of saying Rose isn’t straight on tiktok and now you have 250 people proving you she didn’t love Pearl:……..

you want to know something very ironic?

susan egan, the voice of rose quartz, brings up pearl + rose’s relationship every. chance. she can get. & she describes them as having a relationship! she brought them up in the recent livestream, she sang the rose with pearl’s va on youtube. so many people who work for steven universe have stated that the love between pearl and rose is mutual. voice actors and storyboard artists have portrayed the characters as being in a relationship. rebecca sugar even confirmed that they’re not unrequited. the people who made pearlrose, essentially, either ship them or at the very least see their dynamic as being one that involves mutual feelings that go beyond platonic.

“i don’t know if i would call it unrequited!” — rebecca sugar interrupting an interviewer who describes pearl + rose as unrequited

“if it’s not, then i’ve misunderstood the whole thing!” — storyboarder raven molisee, also responsible for rose’s scabbard, when asked if the relationship between pearl + rose is romantic.

“i LOVE these two so i was absolutely ecstatic to draw this scene. i remember being really pressed to pack all of their passion and pearl’s smugness into one moment that lasts the length of a guitar solo… and their fusion that’s just an embodiment of that into one giant, shamelessly beautiful dancer!” — katie mitroff about fusion in we need to talk

rose quartz is my comfort character & even that is an understatement. she’s so much like me and she’s so meaningful, and i wish that more of the fandom could see this.

the way that her character is perceived really reflects some of the issues that we see in real life as well.

she’s amazing for understanding mental illness & trauma and that responses to pain are not always pretty. things are complicated & so are people. some people in the steven universe fandom want to oversimplify things by often making her a heartless villain. on the other hand, i feel like some rose fans act like she’s done nothing wrong or they like to downplay her issues and mental health struggles. not necessarily here, but elsewhere. some people hate the idea that rose’s decision to give up her physical form was self destructive, but it absolutely was. she’s not a villain but she is a cautionary tale. she has a big heart but she’s absolutely flawed. she never wanted to hurt anyone, but she did.

she’s amazing for body positivity in ways that go beyond simple things like appearance, but people are… so weird about it sometimes. i still remember being twelve years old & reading comments about how rose was “pretending to be fat” the whole time after the pink diamond reveal. that was… really upsetting to read! six years later, i’m trying to help folks understand that this is not the case. there’s so much more depth and detail and comfort, really, than those silly reddit jokes and fandom hostility.

… and she’s amazing for sapphic representation. she’s canonically m-spec but the fandom can be so, so weird about that. as a bisexual girl myself, it bothers me so much that we need to convince so many people that she loved pearl while pretty much everyone validates her relationship with a man. not only validates… they see it as perfect and better and i don’t usually see people talk about the many flaws of that relationship. yes, pearl + rose’s relationship was flawed too. rose has a pattern of unstable relationships! but people can be codependent and genuinely in love at the same time. they can be in bad situations but they can still be… genuinely in love. & pearl and rose’s relationship is not less valid because people perceive their relationship as… more flawed than the other relationship (mainly because lots of people don’t think about the other relationship’s issues)

the biggest misconception of pearl and rose’s relationship is that their love wasn’t real

the biggest misconception of rose and greg’s relationship is that they got married

that’s very interesting to me.

if rose isn’t seen as a straight up villain, i find that lots of the fandom puts so much importance on two things: having a relationship with a man, and being a mother. & as a girl who relates to her, i think there’s so much more to her character and i’ll stop there because i have an entire thing i wrote about rose & the fandom here! /np/nf

i’m sorry about the fandom, anon. i’d go on tiktok and defend you but i don’t have a tiktok account because of my adhd (racing thoughts + a bunch of videos about different things at once = not my favourite app). you’re absolutely right and i wish more people understood that.