#day off scenario

[saltoru]

being a jujutsu sorcerer and a parent rarely ends well. sorcerers who have to fight for their lives everyday barely have any time and energy even for themselves. adding babies to the picture is hard to imagine.

but gojo was determined to balance his work and personal life when you entered his life, which is why he has a baby girl strapped to his chest as he holds up his hand and crosses his fingers, already to send a special grade curse into his domain.

"daddy~" his baby babbles, cheek squished against his purple uniform.

"yes, baby?" gojo smiles down at his baby and gently sweeps her hair out of her eyes. he pays little to no attention to the curse, who had already spread out their domain and is currently sending wave after wave of attacks, all of which gojo repels with a touch. "this is domain expansion," he gently explains to her, smirking at the curse who is obviously offended that he wasn't taking them seriously. "in a second, you're gonna see daddy's domain."

his baby blinks and shuffles around in the strap, whining a bit as she tries to get comfortable. for all she knows, it's too dark and hot and she misses mommy's smell.

before she knows it, the space around her begins to look like the night sky, and she can't see the curse anymore.

"this is my domain," her daddy says, but she misses seeing the sun. why is it nighttime all of the sudden?

"nooo" she whines as she kicks around. where's the ice cream he promised her earlier? and where is mommy? she doesn't want to go to sleep yet!

"not easily impressed, hm?" he laughs, protectively holding his baby's head against his chest as he closes up his domain after finishing off the curse.

"let's go get ice cream, yeah?" he ruffles her hair and holds up her hands, dancing them up in the air with a huge grin. the sunlight hits her face again and a smile quickly reappears. "you did so good today. did you learn a lot about jujutsu fights today? did'ja enjoy our little adventure together?"

"ice cweam" she smiles, doing a few happy kicks. and that's how the tradition of getting ice cream after missions started for the daddy-daughter pair.

[pearbosc]

Homesick

[animeficsworld]

Damn Him

Warumono-San x Reader

Summary: You are in a relationship with an evil mastermind, and you have no idea about it.

You two met in a café.

He walked in ordered a drink and left while you were the one behind him in line.

After seeing him, you went back to the café almost daily.

You didn't even like coffee that much.

But the tall and handsome stranger kept you interested. 

And to your surprise, he was just as interested.

Your relationship with him became romantic after the first date.

He invited you over to his place and had a lot of questions about pandas.

His obsession with the cute animals became obvious the moment you saw his home, he had a lot of panda-related things. 

And he even got some from you.

He told you that during his work days, you wouldn't be able to meet but he would still text you from time to time, you understood and since you also had work, you completely agreed to only meet when you had the days off.

He would call you or text you on Saturdays and you two would meet up, you mostly went to the ZOO to see the pandas.

"Which one is your favourite animal?" he asked as you two were looking at the tigers.

"I'll show you." you grabbed his hand and dragged him to a different exhibit.

He looked at the animal up on the tree, sleeping, then he looked at the sign.

"Red panda." he said

"I think they are the cutest." you smiled as his eyes never left the animal sleeping up on the tree.

"Cute."

His voice was low and you barely heard him but you did.

Even so, his fascination with Pandas never stopped. He even got you a panda mug you brought into work.

Then it got to a point where he invited you over a Friday afternoon, so after work, you would head to his place with a small bag and you would spend the weekend there.

Then you would stay until Monday mornings and head to work from his place.

It was a simple relationship, filled with kind and sweet moments.

You would say you loved him.

But you didn't know much about him.

Him, on the other end, knew everything about you. He wanted to know from the moment he noticed you standing in line behind him.

But, how could a human capture his heart?

He wasn't sure, but you did.

He loved waking up, having you next to him, even just laying there was enough, but during colder days, you cuddled to his side, which he enjoyed even more.

He was sure he would never feel such a thing towards a human... and yet, he did.

He gave you his apartment key, hoping you would come over even more, damn you and your respect for his personal space!

Damn him for telling you that you could only come over on Friday afternoons. 

Damn him and his plans to destroy humanity!

Damn him and his heart for falling in love.

[starmocha]

Actions speak louder than words. I need to show them I already have a lover.

[ikemenomegas]

During your courtship, Jiaoqiu makes you get snakes for his pharmacy. It's quite common for couples that include at least one Foxian to hunt together so he doesn't leave you to do it alone. But this is less for the sake of tradition and more for the sake of his amusement as you jump around in long grass, holding a viper behind its head and forcefully keeping it from biting your face or arm or leg and any other body part. You really sound a bit pitiful as you yelp, nearly stepping on another one before pouncing, shouting so loud there can't possibly be anything in the way of game left within a half-li radius, and stuffing it into the special basket he prepared for you. You don't complain even once, though you sniffle when you hand him the basket, so he doesn't tease you that much.

[cephydeluxe]

mom got a bible journal (with included highlighters and ink pens) and let me doodle stuff on the front page so

i figured faerun's worse codependent couple was the most appropriate

+ friendship bite

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[peargreen-jellybean]

random, poolverine hurt/comfort idea. wade is a little less insane in this bc i think he mellows out a bit at home and bc i’m too lazy to write more

(below cut if you give a shit)

after the time ripper

logan wakes up and expects to be in an alleyway or the back of a bar bc the owner was too nervous to make him leave. expects a hard surface and broken glass in his chest. but he’s on a crappy couch, in clothes not belonging to him, and inside what looks like an apartment

the memories sluggishly come back, almost too absurd to believe, but when he’s fully awake he hears a radio and cautiously follows the sound to, he discovers, a kitchen

and there’s wade fucking wilson, wearing “i <3 hot dads” shorts, an apron, crocs. no shirt, no mask. turning a toaster this way and that, and shaking it like he wants information from it

wade notices the lingering man in the doorway, chirps a ‘good morning peanut’, gestures to a “hero’s breakfast” and tells his guest to help himself. the toaster is being a dick right now and he’s trying to fix it

a bit taken back, at the sheer domestic-ness of it all, logan drops into a seat at the wobbly table and takes the tabletop in. half burned toast, mostly scrambled eggs, and an assortment of other breakfast time items he hasn’t really seen, much less eaten, in years

what does it? old memories and guilts, recent events and their pains, the familiar smell of coffee, wade grumbling at the counter over a broken toaster like a strange picture of domestic living? really it could be anything, but logan starts to tremble in his seat. something is tight in his chest, too tight and still tightening. it’s overwhelming. too much at once

is he really going to break down here, now, in wade fucking wilson’s kitchen, wearing his worn-soft clothes and listening to a quiet song on the radio?

yeah, he is. fucking pathetic

but logan is startled out of his spiral by:

fingers sliding into his hair. a hand tugging at his head. his face pressing into a warm, solid body

wade has abandoned his toaster and now cradles him to his hip

logan yanks his head away with a ‘what the fuck are you doing’, or he tries to. wade doesn’t let him escape far, pulling him back into the dip of his hip. gently holding him and rubbing his scalp with his fingertips once he feels logan give up the fight

‘easy peanut.’ wade hesitates for a moment. ‘vanessa used to do this… when shit got really bad.’

he doesn’t elaborate. he doesn’t have to. the weight of the softly spoken words is enough.

and while he wants to fight it- he doesn’t need sentimental crap or pity- logan takes a breath just long enough to pause here in this moment, and let’s himself feel

wade is constant, steady; the weight of his hand gentle, but grounding. the dip of his hip holding his head near perfectly. the warmth of him seeping into his skin, then flesh, then bones, settling in his chest

wade is anchoring him

maybe he should fight this, or be annoyed, or just generally pissed at the coddling, but when was the last time he was held like this? comforted like this?

wade will be insufferable after this, probably smug and a whole new level of too comfortable touching him, but right now, right here, he’s calming. he’s- something logan can’t quite name

and call him weak, call him pathetic- because maybe he is- he’s gonna savor this for as long as he can

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

that’s it. that’s all i got. enjoy, or don’t. that’s up to you ig

[fatedroses]

A radiant light that pierced through the eternal winter, though blind to the influence he held. A pendulum, who's bright kindness was inevitably made to swing into a legacy of darkness. A son. A brother. A father. A man, however extraordinary. And the beginning of Garlemald's doom.

[pippytmi]

Your ennemies to lovers prompts make me think so much about kacy during S1. I appreciate all of your Kacy fics and love the emotions you manage to create with your writing. I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a story that combines prompt 4 and 6?

It is an unspoken rule that when the DIA is involved in a case, Lucy needs to be kept far, far away.

At least, that’s how Jesse rationalizes trying to keep Lucy away from DIA Officer Whistler. He cites repeated complaints to Tennant (undeserved ones), numerous whisper-shouting matches in the halls (all Whistler’s fault), and ending in the middle of tense stare-downs more often than not (obviously biased). So really, it’s a no-brainer that Lucy indignantly ignores Jesse’s pleas and makes it her mission to give as good as she gets.

“Good morning, DIA Officer Whistler,” Lucy tells her sweetly this morning, having been waiting outside the elevator just to catch the briefly-perplexed, then immediately-annoyed expression on Whistler’s face.

“Special Agent Tara,” Whistler says curtly. “I was told I would be speaking with Agent Boone today.”

“He’s busy,” Lucy says. “Small mishap with his car.” (She’d let the air out of his tires, actually, just in preparation for today).

Whistler’s expression does not waver. “I’ll speak with Special Agent Tennant, then,” she says.

“Or,” Lucy says, following as Whistler begins to stalk through the bullpen, “you can discuss the case with me. I haven’t actually been briefed on why you’re here, but if you give me two minutes…”

Whistler comes to an abrupt stop, and Lucy nearly knocks them both over; Whistler has to grip Lucy’s arm just to keep her from falling on her face, and when Lucy meets Whistler’s gaze, she sees—strangely—a kind of uncharacteristic apprehension that Whistler never has. Whistler drops Lucy’s arm like she has been burned, and her voice goes quiet when she says, 

“It really would make more sense to discuss clearance with your boss. It’s a time-sensitive matter.”

“Oh.” Lucy tries to hide her confusion, but it’s a halfhearted attempt at best; usually, the back-and-forth with Whistler is inevitable (and maybe even slightly thrilling). Whistler never just…gives up. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Whistler says, already heading towards Jane’s office with renewed intensity. “Excuse me.”

Lucy is practically rooted in her spot, bewildered, and she watches as Tennant beckons Whistler inside before shutting the door. “Huh,” she says aloud. “Weird.”

“What’s weird?” Kai comes in carrying coffee, and he freezes in place as he, too, realizes what Lucy is looking at. “Damn. DIA’s here already? We haven’t even been briefed on the case yet.”

“Apparently it’s ‘time-sensitive’,” Lucy says, complete with air quotes and everything. “Think this means Whistler will actually give us something for once?”

“I’m not holding my breath,” Kai yawns, offering Lucy her cup before he wanders over to his desk. “Hey, where’s Jesse?”

(Lucy decides not to incriminate herself by answering that).

By the time Whistler and Jane emerge, both Kai and Lucy are pretending to be working and Jesse is just barely bursting through the doors. Jane doesn’t comment on either; instead, she waves her arms to get everyone together and begins her spiel about how they need to work with DIA and be a happy team or whatever. Honestly, Lucy is kind of tuning out the pep talk and is instead studying Whistler—everything about her body language screams discomfort, from the stiffness of her shoulders to the sharpness of her set mouth. And when she catches Lucy staring, all she does is quickly look away.

Weird.

Later, after they've been fully briefed and Jane dismisses them to do boring grunt work, Lucy tries to edge closer to Whistler and ask what exactly DIA needs to be here for. But when Whistler sees her coming, she makes a beeline towards Jesse instead, and Lucy is left frowning at their backs.

At first Lucy doesn't think too much of it. Jesse is probably handling the precious, redacted DIA files that point them to the possible suspects in this abduction case. But then, after Lucy is tasked with talking to their kidnapping victim's husband, she tries to be polite and ask Whistler if she wants to sit in. A gesture of goodwill, really, to make Whistler feel like she’s part of the investigation. 

“Hey Whistler, do you want to get in on this?” Lucy waves her case file enticingly when Whistler emerges from the break room. “We can do a good cop/bad cop routine. Obviously we know who's who in that scenario, but if you ask nicely I might consider flipping you for bad cop.”

Whistler blinks at her. “What?”

“I'm going to interview Sergeant Nguyen’s husband,” Lucy clarifies. “Want to help?”

“That's not in my job description,” Whistler says, brow crinkling in deeper confusion. “And I have to go talk to Tennant.”

“Again?” Lucy asks this question to the empty space where Whistler used to be. Except this time, Whistler is not being invited into Jane’s office. No, Whistler is just walking away, and pretending to get a call so she has an excuse to exit the hallway.

In an instant, Lucy is pissed off. Here she is, extending an olive branch, and Whistler is acting like she's too good for it. Fine—if Whistler wants to avoid her, then two can play at that game.

Ernie patiently listens to Lucy explain all of this once the interview with the Sergeant's husband gets them nothing. “So that’s why you're hiding in here,” he guesses. “Because Whistler doesn’t want to fight with you like usual.”

“I'm not hiding,” Lucy scoffs. “I actually came here to discuss…” She lamely grabs the top file on his desk, flipping it open to the first page. “Timothy Summers. Hm. Yeah, I think he's our guy.”

“Great,” Ernie says. “So an arrest is imminent, then?”

“Oh, definitely. That's why I'm here…with you…for our next move.”

“And how does the fact that he's been dead for six months fit into this?”

Lucy pauses. “You couldn’t have just told me that?”

“It’s literally underneath his picture. Deceased.” Ernie jabs at the file with his finger, and Lucy smacks him with it. “Ow! God, you’re mean when you fight with your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Lucy’s voice comes out several octaves higher than it should. “Why would you say that?”

“Uh, lots of reasons.” Ernie pops open a box of candy on his desk, offering Lucy a sympathetic red vine which she numbly accepts. “Everyone can see it. Honestly, I thought you two were going to start going at it on Kai’s desk the other day when Whistler broke the news that we were off the Dominguez case.”

Lucy’s jaw drops. “Because we were arguing?”

“Intensely arguing,” Ernie corrects. “Kai and I placed bets on who would kiss who first.”

“Are you serious? She hates me.” 

“Does she?” Ernie continues chewing on his red vine before whispering conspiringly, “Or does she secretly burn for you?”

Horrified, Lucy ditches the candy; surely, that must be the reason she suddenly feels sick to her stomach. “Forget it. I’m going to hide somewhere else.”

“So you are hiding. I knew it! Hey, can you—”

Whatever Ernie wants, Lucy doesn’t stick around to find out. She decides she’s going to find Kai instead, see if he has any actual leads in the case.

Except she ends up bumping into Whistler again. Full-on body contact this time, even—Whistler jerks backwards, Lucy tries to jump into the wall, and really it's a wonder it doesn't end in catastrophe.

“I'm sorry, I…” Whistler trails off when she sees Lucy. “Um, Tennant said I had to talk to Ernie about Sergeant Nguyen’s finances. Is he here?”

“Yeah, he's in there.” Lucy gestures vaguely over her shoulder. “The tech-nerd talk is all yours. I need to go talk to...other people. About things.”

Whistler nods awkwardly, still waiting, and Lucy belatedly steps out of the doorway in order to head back to the bullpen. Okay, so, Operation Avoid Whistler is officially off to a bad start.

But when she catches up to Kai, he has a much better idea of how to spend their time, and it also guarantees Lucy can avoid Whistler perfectly.

“Sergeant Nguyen was last seen at a Vietnamese restaurant two blocks from here,” Kai says. “Do you want to go check it out? Maybe we'll get something the police didn't.”

Lucy’s spirits are immediately lifted. “Yes. I could go for a banh mi,” she says dreamily. “Ooh, and some spring rolls.”

“I'm���pretty sure we're not allowed to order food from our suspects.”

“We don't know if they're our suspects,” Lucy reminds him. “And besides, spring rolls never kidnapped anyone.” She pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

It ends up being closer to twenty minutes to update Jane on their next move, but Jane does give her blessing to investigate (and bring back lunch). Lucy has a pep in her step the entire way out to the parking lot, where…Whistler is standing.

Lucy notices her first; Whistler is facing the ocean, hand cupped above her forehead and frowning at something. She looks so serious—and out of place—that Lucy almost considers asking what’s wrong. Key word almost, because she is still on avoid-Kate-Whistler-mode, and she makes a mad dash to Kai’s car before Whistler can spot her.

Kai yelps when Lucy yanks the door open with, admittedly, a sense of urgency that is a tad unwarranted. “What—?”

“Drive, Kai,” Lucy demands, and he immediately starts up the engine, but he eyes her warily all the same.

(Unfortunately, Lucy makes eye contact with Whistler through the window as the car peels out of the lot, and she groans and sinks low in her seat.)

“What was that?” Kai ventures to ask. “Are you and Whistler fighting?”

“For once, no,” Lucy says. “She’s been avoiding me. So now I’m the one avoiding her.”

“Well did something happen?” The drive is quick, and before they know it, Kai is easing the car into a parking spot. “I know you two get…uh. Really passionate sometimes.”

“Because she hates me,” Lucy reiterates, feeling like a broken record at this point. “So I hate to break it to you, but you and Ernie are not going to collect on any bets related to kissing.”

Kai winces. “You know about that?”

“Yes, Kai, what the hell? I expect this from Ernie, but from you?”

“Any way I can make it up to you?” Kai asks weakly.

“Buy me lunch and we’ll talk,” Lucy says, and Kai—newfound meddler that he has proved to be—can at least follow instructions beautifully.

The restaurant turns out to be a dead-end case wise, but their menu is grand; they order too much food and bring enough lunch for everyone. (Even Whistler).

But when Lucy ever-so-casually mentions this, Jane just shrugs and says,

“I told her to stick around for you two, but she said she had to finalize some reports.”

“Wow,” Ernie says around a mouthful of noodles, “that’s dedication. Turning down free food just for work.” He pointedly raises his eyebrows at Lucy, who in turn tries very hard to glower at him with just her eyes.

“Good for her,” is all Lucy has to say about that. Jane gives her a curious look for the comment, but thankfully doesn’t ask.

“Hey, Lucy,” Ernie says suddenly. “I left my tea in the lair. Can you do me a favor and bring it to me?”

Lucy—still cradling her precious, half-eaten banh mi—has to do an actual double-take. “Why can’t you get it?”

“Because I have a cramp…in my leg…and you love me,” Ernie says. When Lucy stares back at him, unimpressed, he tries again with: “And I’ll owe you?”

“Fine,” Lucy sighs. “But you’re being so weird.” Suspiciously weird, even, but his scheming doesn’t click until Lucy is actually opening Ernie’s door and—“Oh.”

Whistler lifts her head at the intrusion, her stunned expression likely a mirror of Lucy’s. “Special Agent Tara,” she says.

“Whistler,” Lucy says slowly. “What are you doing in here?”

“Ernie said I could borrow his computer,” Whistler says. “DIA wants me here until we get a ransom demand, and I wanted to get some work done.”

“Ernie let you borrow his computer,” Lucy echoes. “Willingly?”

“Yes?” Whistler tilts her head questioningly. “Sorry, did you need something?”

Lucy knows she should be looking for Ernie’s tea. She also knows she should probably ask Whistler about it. But all that comes out is: “You know, we brought lunch for everyone.”

“Thank you, but I had lunch already.” Whistler glances back down at the computer screen, tapping away at its keys in a silent dismissal, and in an instant Lucy has had enough.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The mechanical typing falters. “I’m not.”

“You’re working with everyone else on my team but me,” Lucy says. “That kind of feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Maybe I felt like getting actual work done for once.” Whistler looks up again, this time with a deep-set frown on her lips. “And I wasn’t in the mood to fight.”

“Hey, you’re the one who fights with me!”  Lucy argues. “Literally, from day one. You yelled at Jane about me in front of everyone.”

“Because you stole a sensitive report which you had no clearance for!”

“Actually, I read it upside down while you were talking about how I didn’t have clearance for it,” Lucy counters. “No stealing required.”

Whistler’s jaw clenches. “That is not any better.”

“But it means I’m not a thief. I’m just…you know, crafty,” Lucy says. “Come on, haven’t you ever bent the rules a little to break a case?”

“I don't break cases,” Whistler says flatly. “I protect intel.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she snaps, exasperated, “you’re a saint and a better person than I am. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Are you—what is your problem? That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” Lucy lets the words hang between them in the ensuing silence. She doesn’t even realize that she has placed her hands on the desk in challenge—barely any space between them now—until Whistler is hastily standing up.

Even as tall as she is, Whistler’s voice comes out incredibly small. “Nothing,” she says finally. “Please forgive my…gross unprofessionalism. Clearly, I have overstayed my welcome.” She steps out from behind the desk without even bothering to close whatever she’d been working on, and Lucy sees red.

“Oh sure, just run away,” Lucy huffs. “Go ahead! Prove you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been—”

“I’m sick of playing this game with you!” Lucy cuts her off.

Whistler doesn’t move an inch. “What game?” 

Dammit. Ernie is most definitely in her head. What the hell; it’s not like Lucy has anything to lose. “The game where we pretend we don't like each other,” she says firmly. “You’re an asshole and I like to piss you off, but obviously there is something else here and I’m not crazy. This is—”

Honestly, in the back of her mind, the most Lucy expects is more denial. At worst, she expects Whistler to march out of the room and report her to Jane again. She certainly does not anticipate Whistler yanking Lucy in to kiss her breathless—just for a brief, dizzying moment—before pulling away.

Whistler tries to apologize, but Lucy doesn’t let her; she is once again determined to give as good as she gets (in a very different context). Lucy pulls Whistler right back in, grasping desperately at her face and stretching as fall as the tips of her toes will allow. 

It seems to reassure Whistler in any case, who eagerly slides her hands along Lucy’s back and melts against her. Maybe it's the months of pent-up aggression between the two of them, or maybe it's the knowledge that Whistler is an actual human being, or maybe it's just the ghost of the faint touch of Whistler's fingertips underneath the hem of Lucy’s shirt, but the kiss gets really intense really fast.

Lucy debates sliding her own hand under Whistler's shirt—see if she is as serious in her bra choices as she is in pantsuits—but then Whistler flicks her tongue into Lucy’s mouth and she cannot possibly be expected to focus. It's intoxicating and exhilarating and…

“Wait, wait,” Lucy regretfully manages to twist away. “We can't do this.”

“Right,” Whistler says, nodding rapidly. “It would be a mistake.” She's clearly trying to school her features into her usual stoic demeanor, but her efforts are completely undermined by her kiss-swollen lips and the obvious flush on her cheeks.

“What? No, I meant, we can't do this here,” Lucy says. “You think it would be a mistake?”

“Not if…you don't,” Kate says, almost like a question.

“Are you seriously going to throw yourself at me but not even say what you feel out loud? I think you're addicted to fighting with me,” Lucy decides.

“I didn't throw myself at you, and—if anything, you're the one trying to fight with me!” Kate exclaims. “Every day I come in, and you're there trying to undermine me. I've been trying to keep my distance for both our sakes. Obviously our working dynamic is…less than ideal, most of the time.”

“I'm not trying to undermine you. I'm just trying to get you to loosen up a little maybe,” Lucy says. “Which…okay, might be annoying. So I get why you're an uptight asshole sometimes. No offense!”

Whistler frowns. “Some offense taken.”

“Oh, it's fine,” Lucy says. “The asshole thing is unfortunately very hot. Ernie may or may not have had a point.”

“What does Ernie have to do with this?” Whistler looks horrified now.

“Not like—Ernie and I don't sit around discussing how hot you are,” Lucy tries to save face. “He just suggested that we might…you know…jump each other at some point.”

“You're not making this any better.”

“Then forget Ernie,” Lucy says. “Take him out of the equation entirely. Do you also find me unfortunately hot?”

“I wouldn’t call it unfortunate,” Whistler says. “But. Yes?”

“Okay, so…” Lucy trails off. “What are we doing here, Whistler? Do you want to walk out of here and pretend this never happened?”

“No.” Whistler steps forward hesitantly. “That’s not what I want. I…I like you, Lucy. And I know this would completely ruin our working relationship, but—”

“Shut up about work,” Lucy says, dragging Whistler back in for another fervorous kiss, delighting in the fact that Whistler certainly isn’t fighting her now.

(Lucy’s phone buzzing, however, does effectively kill the mood.)

“What is that?” Whistler is instantly back into work mode, smoothing her hair haphazardly as if someone is about to walk in any second. “Is it about the case?”

Lucy unlocks her phone with bated breath. “Maybe we finally have a ransom call,” she says, before the familiar face in her text messages proves otherwise. “...nevermind, it’s just Ernie. He wants to know if we’ve ‘kissed and made up’. I’m going to tell him we’re going to have sex in his chair.”

Whistler half-coughs, half-chokes. “Are we?”

“Obviously not,” Lucy says. Then, thoughtfully: “But I’m technically still on lunch. Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, I have a company car,” Whistler says. “Do you have another lead?”

“No, but I do have thirty minutes to spare,” Lucy says cheerfully. “Get your keys. We’re totally going to have sex in your company car.”

Whistler turns very, very red. “I…don’t think my boss would like that.”

“Fine, then we can make out in your company car,” Lucy amends. “But you’re going to have to leave first. Kai and Ernie have a bet going about us, and I don’t want either of them to win.”

“Your team has a strange obsession with your love life,” Whistler tells her matter-of-factly.

“Eh, could be worse,” Lucy says. “Jane could get involved.”

Whistler—marginally disheveled—manages to crack a smile. “Let’s not let it get that far,” she suggests, brushing one final kiss against Lucy’s mouth with a resigned sigh. “So…are we keeping this between us for now?”

“I guess so,” Lucy says begrudgingly. “Think you can keep on fighting me in front of everyone?”

Whistler shrugs. “Are you going to keep being an asshole?”

“Wha—hey, no fair! You’re the asshole. I’m the good-meaning, happy-go-lucky agent who just wants to keep you human,” Lucy says, poking at Whistler’s cheek until her smile grows even more.

“Challenge accepted,” Whistler says, smoothly tucking a strand of hair behind Lucy’s cheek before casually making her exit. 

Lucy places her hands on her hips and wistfully watches her go. This day has gone absolutely nowhere she expected it to, but dammit, she can’t be mad.

(Especially when her phone buzzes again with another text from Ernie. All it says is: NOOOOOO 😭).

[codename-adler]

on Kevseth and Enemies-to-Lovers

i think there are ships where the characters feel as if they’d been atoms next to each other when the universe exploded into being.

i think there are ships where the characters feel as if they’d been godly creatures cut right down the middle when they seemed too powerful united as one.

and then there are ships where the characters feel as if they’d been this great entity once upon a time but something happened and the core was ripped bloody from the inside by a burning iron fist. and now the shell of it walks hollow and aimless in the world, waiting to feel, to lose, to cease; and the core, it runs exposed, too bright, too extraordinary, each step seizing, a trail of blood behind it, feeling everything too much too deep all the damn time, flayed alive, a raw mess aiming for the top lest it gets stomped into the earth.

so when the shell and the core meet, what happens? can they really fit back into each other? how does that even work? it’s not glue. it’s not about recognition. it can only be painful. they’ve got to dive head first into one another no questions asked or they’ll hesitate and make the landing worse. maybe deadly, even. they’ve got to have a tight grip on each other, and hold on, and meld, and meld, and meld. it’s about hits and pushes and marks and struggle and claws driven so deep into the flesh and blood that they dissolve into the one matter.

they hate each other because it’s not easy, never. because it hurts. because it shouldn’t have been this way. because it seems impossible. because it’s endless attempts. because it’s unfamiliar. because it’s strange. because it feels wrong. because it demands and demands and demands, more and more, always more. because it’s ugly, and time-consuming, and loud, and dirty, and jarring, and too big too small too fast too late too much.

you have to let him in. you have to make space for him. you have to fit with him. inside and around. you have to relearn how to feel and how to move and how to speak. you have to shelter him. shield him. make his heart beat. make his lungs breathe. you have to be there. you can’t walk away. you need each other. you have to accept that need. and the want too. that despite the wreck and the alarm bells, the blood matches. that this is it. this is him. this is you.

what will you do?

keep away? fight from a distance? burn him to ashes and yourself too? or embrace him? and your whole self?

[animeficsworld]

Warumono-San Falling in Love with a Woman Who Looks Like a Panda - Headcanons

Warumono x Fem!Human!Reader

You saw him for the first time at the ZOO

He was way too tall for you to miss

His hair covered his eyes but you could tell he was a handsome man

He stood in front of the Panda exhibit

He was taking a lot of photos yet again

And as he turned to leave, he laid his eyes on you

A woman

A woman who looked just like a panda

He was stunned

He was staring

You tried to ignore him but his gaze never left you

You tried to focus on the animals in front of you, but you just couldn't

You moved and he followed you

Was he a stalker?

Or a serial killer?!

Thoughts were running through your mind

Then you saw him at the gift shop

He was staring at the panda soft toys when you went in.

You left empty-handed, he bought a plushie

He would go up to you and innitiate a conversation

He was a man of few words

But you did give him your contact details

He was too handsome to say no to

That was the day he leard about dates

And he asked you on a date the next day

His mind was filled with pandas and you

You and Pandas

It was all he could think about even while he was working

He texted you at work and he found himself looking forward to your reply

Then, on his day off, he invited you to his place

As you looked around you finally realized why he was so facinated by you

He loved pandas

And you were going to be his panda

A/N: Let me know if you all would be interested in more! I have some ideas! :D

[welcometogrouchland]

I like to think that when the batfamily inevitably runs out of money and jobless Bruce, Tim, and Dick* find themselves in financial need, Steph reveals that she's made thousands of dollars taking odd jobs around Gotham City that we just never saw bc Steph hasn't been in a comic for months. Nobody checked in on her and while they weren't looking she made 6 grand babysitting and playing piano at a local theatre. Bruce has to grovel for enough money to buff out a scratch on the batmobile and Steph is revelling in it. This is the closest she's ever going to get to being a supervillain

*(Cass and Jason don't need money to survive on account of being homeless as kids + Babs funds Cass' basic needs and Damian is on his mom's payroll, same w/ duke even if it's obvs not al ghul money)

[alien-til-i-stage]

So like, i was thinking right.

we know that guardian urak will like own several human pets for the purpose of training them and sending them off to alien stage with the hopes of them winning. however we also know that the only person who has gotten close to winning is Till.

Meaning that technically, these other kids couldve been considered Till’s siblings in a way.

This next part is fully headcanon BUT WHAT IF LIKE HE WAS ACTUALLY CLOSE TO THEM OR AT LEAST SPENT TIME WITH THEM!!! What if Till had met and spoken with these kids, before watching them die in alien stage, knowing he himself would eventually be put in the same situation.

What if this is just another factor for why Till hates aliens?? like hes long since hated aliens before urak but this could just be even more fuel for his hatred?? siblings he once had were cruelly taken away from him and killed. Since Till wouldve had to be younger he mightve even looked up to these other siblings, JUST TO SEE THEM DIE DO YOU GUYS SEE MY VISION

i know someone would’ve probably mentioned it by now, but its very likely that urak still has other pet humans he trains similarly in case Till loses or if he wants to win again. SO NOT ONLY WOULD TILL HAVE HAD TO SEE HIS OLDER SIBLINGS WHO HE ADMIRED DIE IN ALIEN STAGE BUT WOULD HAVE TO BE BURDENED WITH THE FACT THAT NOW ITS HIS YOUNGER SIBLINGS WHO MIGHT SEE HIM DIE.

and even if he won, that doesn’t guarantee their lives if urak decided to put them in alien stage after winning with Till, which he probably will anyways. MEANING THERES A CHANCE HE ALSO MIGHT SEE HIS YOUNGER SIBLINGS DIE AHHHH

[merakiui]

what if jade was actually more of a perv than Floyd and Azul combined underneath that (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠) façade

This is exactly how I see him!!!! He's such a freak!!!!!! Even more so than Floyd and Azul. In terms of shamelessness, I like to imagine Jade is at the very top spot. He's just so,,,, depraved. The type of man to shamelessly sport an erection while you're lecturing him about how annoying he is or something degrading like that, and he just stands there like (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) and waits for you to notice LOL. I also just think things like erections in human form aren't something embarrassing for Jade and, by that extension, Floyd because it's something they aren't used to dealing with in mer form and they just don't understand why it's such a big deal if people see because, as Floyd will note, "everyone's got junk, so who cares?" Azul gets flustered over things like that because 1) he's easy to fluster and 2) he wants to actually blend in with human society and not be labeled a pervert right away like a certain pair of eels. ^^;;;

Part of me wants to push the Jade is a feet guy agenda because his dorm groovy is so,,,,, T_T but then I feel like that makes sense for Jade to be the one with the foot/leg fetish??? He's spent all of his life playing the "normal" twin or the "responsible" twin because that's how he was always told apart from Floyd. He's much too calculated to just let loose like Floyd does and he has an image to uphold, so he probably just masks all of his perverted behaviors so well you'll never know. But then he does things like offering to shine your shoes or tie your laces or something silly like that and he's hopelessly hard the entire time. You can't even kick him in his dick because there's a 100% chance he'll just enjoy it. T_T you tell him to go die and he's fanning himself like wooooo teehee :3c it's suddenly so hot in here...

Jade knows exactly what he's doing. He is so down bad for you, too. You could tell him you'll die before you ever go out with him and he just becomes even more invested in playing this long, impossible game of waiting. I like to think he gets creative and humorous with his attempts at flirting. Maybe this makes him look a little pathetic, but is that not part of his charms? That, or it's just another artfully crafted façade meant to hide a much more coy demeanor.

He has a list of things he wants to accomplish with you and within the top five is probably a footjob. You kicked him in his ankles after he showed you the list (complete with a handwritten note asking you if you'd help him study anatomy later), and he had to excuse himself to the bathroom to deal with personal issues. :) your violence is just more fuel for his fantasies.

[ms-scarletwings]

New (Cursed AF) Invader Zim Headcanon:

Barring the potential for major acute blood loss, Irkens can actually survive a full decapitation.

And I brought substance to make the case with.

Cockroaches, one of the most infamously durable of real life animals, can live for several days, sometimes even weeks without their head. And for the most part, they still even act like normal roaches- crawling about, reacting to touch, standing around, etc. it seems the only reason this eventually catches up to the critter is because no mouth = no way to keep bringing necessary food and water into the body. If that were bypassed, however, it stands to reason the little zombie could thrive just as much as a headed roach.

Almost disturbingly, the head itself can actually last a surprising amount of time solo as well. Experiments with decapitated roaches show that after body separation, roach heads can still move their antennae for hours before succumbing- much longer even if kept refrigerated and supplied with nutrients.

One of the neat things about roach bodies that makes such a feat possible is how their nervous system is set up- simplified ref against what yours looks like below

Now, anyone who has ever said a roach can survive for a while without its brain is not being entirely accurate. Functionally, they actually have two sort-of brains: the main point of nerve centralization is contained in the head, which for the most part is a primary brain responsible for movement coordination, certain technical functions, interpreting stimuli that comes in from the antennae, and more. The second main point of interest in this system is a series of nerve clusters running down the insect’s abdomen known as ganglia (singular: ganglion). These bundles of neurons are not exactly brains in their own right, but they do function as an extended CNS that handles the control over the digestive tract, reacting to stimuli, leg movement, and other more basic bodily functions. These can operate the body on a primitive level after the loss of the main brain, up until thirst/starvation begins to run the wind out of the sails.

You know what sort of creature actually DOES have two entire complete brains? One up top, and an auxiliary backup a little further down?

If you were nodding along and saying “irkens!” Then you would be correct! One peanut and five more days in the bunker for you 🥜 ~

As is obvious to anyone familiar with the show, the PAK is an essential cybernetic addition to Irken biology, holding their gear as well as an entire digital backup of their personality and memories. While it serves many functions to the user, the first and foremost priority of one is to protect the existence of the meaty entity it needs in to carry itself around.

To that end we’ve seen some autonomous acts from time to time with Zim’s close calls. If you recall “Plague of Babies”, he… kind of died for a moment there, caught up in a wave of GIR’s lethally amplified stupidity. In response, his PAK appears to resuscitate him with a quick jolt. The would-be events of “10 Minutes to Doom” emphasize the necessity of the PAK for any Irken’s survival beyond several minutes, which directly implies PAKs facilitate a major biological process their natural bodies are no longer capable of alone. Personally, I think it might be something either neurological or related to respiration, on a hunch.

Well, whatever it is, they are toast without it in swift manner, and the PAK doesn’t prefer to be without its other piece anymore than the body does. Dib’s revelation about the technology described their relationship with its body like that of driver and car, but I think he’s missing something. The PAK is actually more than capable of carrying itself around without the body… at least for a time.

When I think about those things, a little dilemma pops up in my head concerning how they.. well, how they’re powered. It is never explained or demonstrated that they are given time off of the body in order to charge; however, irkens are probably advanced enough to have some smaller and sci-fi wildly potent and small energy source up their sleeves, but actually, that wouldn’t quite make sense here. Because Irken bodies still produce their energy the same way every other lifeform in the known galaxy does, with food. Lots of food, actually. They can mow through snacks at about the same rate as Augustus Gloop. PAKs don’t need to produce their own independent energy source, they just need to efficiently make use of what this organism is already evolutionarily fine tuned to do naturally. Now that’s smart engineering.

And so, like any respectable auxiliary life support feature, they hold some of that energy in a reserve for those crisis moments like in “Plague of Babies”, and also in a deleted scene made for “Abduction”!

Fun trivia fact, but originally that episode was supposed to feature a sequence where Zim nearly game overs again. He takes a gnarly hit and a literal plunge through open flames that knocks him out in a free fall.

Despite his incapacitated state, the PAK extends its spider legs in order to catch a walkway railing, both saving his life and proceeding to keep carrying his limp body to a safer location, until of of course, he comes to about a moment later and carries on.

And neither of these are the only times it’s sprung into action the moment it detects something has gone horribly wrong. When accidentally detached from its own host, an emergency response will be triggered within the PAK in an attempt to reattach with its body. Failing that, it attaches instead to… well, whatever it can find.

In “10 minutes to Doom”, this was unfortunately Dib, an incompatible match (or maybe it just picked an improper attachment site), and in the comics… things got interesting at a point or two.

So, I already know what happens when you separate an Irken from their spinal brain, but what about the cranial one?

Because, they actually don’t seem on the same level of urgent necessity? Now that I think about it?

The time machine kerfuffle and the brain eating parasite escape were both events this guy evidently survived, albeit not comfortably or ideally until the problem was fixed (I have to assume in part with GIR’s or the Computer’s help). Now that I think about it Zim’s incredibly fortunate that most of these more serious mishaps happened inside of his base. But it’s theory time.

So, we do this, to a hypothetical green bug bastard

For fun let’s say, hypothetically again, like the hardy earth roach, he blood clots quickly.

Well, first and foremost, that higher up nervous system blackout is probably going to cue the PAK in to begin the following protocol:

1. Activate an emergency response to quickly access the situation.

2. Immediately scurry the body the hell away from whatever manner of threat just shaved a little too much off the top, engaging in all possible defensive measures if necessary.

3. Devote the entirety of its remaining backup power (of which it would have much more stored within the headless body than if it were itself detached) into making a beeline for the coordinates of the nearest Irken source of assistance. On the homeworld, or any fully colonized planet, this would be a cut and dry matter of finding the nearest theoretical space clinic or whatever those freaks have (maybe those dbz regeneration tanks? Idk that would be cool wouldn’t it?). For the lone invader… home base is the next best alternative, being a secured location with plenty of resources and advanced technology at the ready. I would bet my own head that situations like this are a huge highlight to the prime value of a personal SIR companion.

Now, best case scenario for what this help looks like depends on whether we can save and bring the head along too. Reattachment and repair at that point should be a pretty simple matter at the tech level we are working with, afterall. But that’s again, the ideal case scenario. Could they just… regrow the head eventually? We don’t really have a clear answer on what the limits and capabilities of what the Irken healing factor is, but I want to at least guess that having a personal lab and assistant on hand is going to help. Bare minimum, a solution can get worked out to supply the body with needed blood sugars again to buy more time.

The PAK itself retains a pretty much perfect digital backup of its body’s memories, experiences, and identity, so it’s not like information has been permanently been lost with primary brain damage. Replacing the primary brain entirely might be as easy as backing up your iPhone and downloading everything into some shiny new hardware. Hell, it may not even need be Irken hardware!

Do you know the real disturbing things from “Dark Harvest” NOBODY brings up are???

Why the fuck was an instantaneous organ-swapping device already just something Zim was carrying around in his toolset?

And

Zim’s morphology was horrifically receptive to those dozens of xenographs.

Those human organs were actually beating, pulsing, absolutely redundant and unnecessary in his body, but completely still functional and healthy in the name of selling his act to the school nurse. He didn’t just clumsily cram a bunch of offal into himself, he competently integrated them into his biology and somehow wasn’t suffering like… the tons of complications you’d expect from trying a stunt like that.

And in the comics, there’s this other fella I just adore for how skrangly he looks, and believe it or not, his actual fucking name is Skrang.

He’s a smart guy, though. Don’t be fooled. And I mean like, a smart guy. And it’s all thanks to a little help from a little upgrade he’s been fitted with :)

So, I hope you take all the implications I’ve been building here and make what you will of them. I genuinely think an Irken has a decent chance of making it out of a beheading alive to seek sadistic vengeance another day. Do I think ZIM could do such a thing? Tbh, I think he’d have to rely on GIR to come in clutch, and we may know that’s a complete roll of the dice in any case.

Wow, this got morbid, but, par for the course really.