#does punctuation mess with the tags or something

[cherryflight]

Chapter 6!  I spent so long going “should Boldwin be this nice-sounding” before it hit me that he was in direct conversation with, and opposed to, Crestfallen, who is much more blunt, so I just rolled with it.

(Ed is brash enough for both of them anyway!)

Anyway, enjoy Zaxaria stumbling into a bit of culture shock.

[eyeritestuff]

Billy Kid x Reader Headcanons ☆

—X—

A/N: super into ZZZ right now (and billy.)

CW: nothing, maybe a few suggestive jokes but everything is generally SFW :3 i’m super sleepy and writing this at 1am so bare with me when it comes to spelling and grammar :’)

Reader: Gender Neutral [they/them]

—X—

Billy takes a lot of selfies, especially when on missions, and sends them to you. You don’t know what made him start doing this, but you save each and every one of them and you make sure to drop whatever you’re doing to ask him about it.

Billy is on the spectrum. Don’t ask me the logistics of it, yes he’s sophisticated AI, but hear me out! Though you like to indulge in some childhood nostalgia, you aren’t particularly fixated on watching just one media from your childhood. However, one of the medias you watched back in the day is called Starlight Knight. As soon as you told him you enjoyed that show, he would come to you to talk about it. It wasn’t all the time, of course, but whenever conservation went dry (in person or via DMs), he’d make it a thing to talk to you about it for hours. It didn’t annoy you, not in the slightest. It made you happy to see him so happy about the children’s show, and so you entertained it as much as you could.

When Billy texts, he uses old fashioned emoticons as punctuation. Think ‘ :3 , ^_^ , o_O ’ and then replace it everywhere a period, an exclamation point, or a question mark would be. So many emoticons…

Billy loves to play video games, especially at the arcade. He invites you, and usually you tag along. When you can’t, he sends a selfie of him making a sad face. He’d probably captions it something like ‘Missing my pookie.. 💔💔’

On that same note, Billy will pick up on vocabulary you use and steal it. So if you have a habit of saying ‘pookie’ ? That’s his now. He’s using it all the time.

Billy panics easy when it comes to you. not only when it comes to safety, but also when it comes to romantic scenarios. During times you hang out with Anby and Nicole, they spill all the details of how Billy went on a rampage to find the perfect flowers, or how Billy sat in a corner all morning whining about how he didn’t find the right color outfit for you. Things along those lines!

Sortve related, but Billy gets flustered easily. Especially when you make dirty jokes, most of which aren’t really directed at him. He doesn’t get the jokes at first, but when he does understand them, he reacts in such an over the top and dramatic manner. Flailing around, gasping really loud, whining, yknow the works! One time you made a joke about ‘whimpering audios’ and he didn’t understand it. For a while too! Once he asked enough people (Anby explained it to him), he went silent and locked himself in his room for a considerable amount of time. He wasn’t sad or anything, just… shocked.

Billy isn’t human, so he doesn’t necessarily get injured in the traditional sense. One time he came back from a commission with his arm all battered up. You never seen him so down in spirits! You were able to help him, luckily, because it was only one part on his arm that was damaged that really messed up the rest of it. You kissed his hand, and immediately after inspecting your handiwork, he stuck his hand out again. “I dunno.. my arm still feels wonky. How about another kiss for good measure?”

When you’re bored, you love to dress up as Billy. Well, you’re not really dressing like him, you’re just wearing his jacket. You also like to wear the jacket with certain outfits you think it would look best with. Since your boyfriend is so tall and broad in the arms, you mostly wore it as a shoulder drape in an odd anime fashion statement. Regardless, Billy loved to see you wear it.

Earlier I mentioned Billy loves to take selfies, but I forgot to mention how most of them include you, and despite having all of those selfies of himself, half of his camera roll is you. He likes to sneak pictures of you sometimes! It’s one of his more odder behaviors, but he takes such cinematic pictures of you, even when you’re wearing the worst outfits. You didn’t know how he did it, but it’s one of the things that made the random picture taking somewhat okay.

Billy loves hugs. Don’t ask me how it works in terms of comfort. I would assume it’s the equivalent of sleeping in a car. However, Billy does have plenty of plushies thanks to you, and you use those to your advantage… so it’s not all bad :)

You asked Billy to teach you how to sling guns, and the entire tutorial sesh was just him feeling every inch of your body, memorizing and admiring how you looked. He loved you. All of you! He thought he was being sneaky, but you knew (and secretly loved it too).

Billy loves to carry you on his back and walk around. All I’m saying is, he’s got handlebars on that jacket for a reason… this has to be one of them……

Billy loves stickers. Self Explanatory!

Billy loves giving you gifts. He puts your needs over his more than he should, but luckily you’re not in this relationship to take advantage of his immaturity and inexperience. You give back as much as you can.

Billy is clingy. Needed to type it out despite it being loud as hell in this list.

Billy cant cook. Not like he needs to anyways, but he wants to learn for you! So when you’re cooking, he watches close behind you and asks you every question he can think of.

Billy likes to ask why… a lot. It gets frustrating sometimes, but he genuinely wants to learn.

—X—

A/N: thx for reading! idk might make a part 2 i’m gonna go fall asleep now :3

[lixie-phoria]

comforting bf!hyunjin

requested : yes | genre : angst with a happy ending | word count : 0.6k

Can I request y/n talking Hyunjin down from a breakdown and being there for him when he feels kinda numb after and helping him brush his hair, eat, and just being there for him through a hard time

an: this is my first time writing smth like this and I'm not sure how much I like how it's turned out :')

"Hyunjin. Let me in, please"

How long had it been? Half an hour? An hour? You weren't sure as you leaned your forehead against the door, cursing the locked barrier.

"Leave me alone."

His voice was raw, punctuated only by the soft sound of his stifled sobs.

"Jinnie, please. I want to help. Tell me what's wrong."

You were met with silence.

Hyunjin's practice had run late that night.

He'd been down for the past few days, so you stayed up to make sure he wouldn't return home to a cold, dark hall. But you hadn't expected him to storm in at 2 a.m, hair a mess and tear stains running down his cheeks. He didn't even give you a chance to speak. The first thing he'd done was lock himself into your shared bedroom, trying to muffle his sobs, but they seeped into the silence of the hall anyways.

"Babe, what's wrong? Did I do something?"

"No."

"Then let me in, please."

His reply was a strangled sob. "I don't want you seeing me like this. I'm a mess"

"I don't care how you look, hyunjin. I want to make sure you're alright."

It's a while before you hear the lock click, and you're on your feet immediately, pushing the door open to find your boyfriend seated at the foot of your bed, head in his hands and body shaking from sobs.

the sight broke your heart.

You're by his side in an instant, wrapping your arms around him as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, a fresh wave of sobs escaping him.

"What's wrong, hyune?"

"Do you love me?"

His question hung in the air, delicate and heart-wrenching.

"Of course I do. I love you. So much."

"But why?"

You rested your temple against his, sorrow digging a dagger into your heart. You hated seeing him like this.

"Where is all of this coming from?"

His hold around you tightens, but he doesn't answer.

"Is it the haters?"

You knew you had guessed correctly when he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"that's not healthy. you know that. let me help you, please."

"not today."

you sighed. you don't want to push it. he'll come around eventually, he always does.

"how about in the morning?"

he nods silently as you finally turn your body to face his, gently taking his face in your hands.

"you know i love you, right? i love you no matter what. always."

he leans into your touch, eyes closing. "thank you."

"And you are not the opinion of someone who doesn't know you."

Though he couldn't see it, a soft smile plays at your lips as you press a kiss to his furrowed brow.

"do you want to eat something?"

"it's 3 in the morning."

"screw that."

that earns a small chuckle from him as he meets your gaze, warm brown orbs staring into yours.

"thank you," he repeats.

"you don't have to thank me, hyune."

you help him up from the floor, standing on your toes to tuck the lose strands that had escaped from his hair tie.

"i didn't think you'd stay with me after seeing me like this."

"i'll stay with you no matter what."

As the night slowly yielded to the first hints of dawn, you found yourselves nestled together on the bed. Hyunjin's breathing had steadied, and his weary eyes met yours with a newfound warmth.

"We're in this together, always," you whisper, lacing his fingers with yours as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

At that moment, a meteorite could've come crashing down upon the earth, but what mattered was that you were in his arms. safe.

tags : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @laylasbunbunny (send an ask to be added/removed)

©lixie-phoria, 2023

[adverbally]

Pick of the Patch

Written for the @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four prompt “pumpkin” | wc: 1,053 | rated: T | cw: none | tags: kidfic, family planning, A/B/O omegaverse (omega Steve and alpha Eddie), implied mpreg, minor angsting about how fast babies grow

———

The practical side of Steve’s brain recognizes how silly it is to buy a Halloween costume for an infant. Zachary is only eight months old; he’ll probably make a mess of it like every other piece of clothing he owns, and he won’t even remember the holiday anyway. Any money Steve spends on a costume is money that could go to buying diapers and groceries instead. It’s just wasteful, really. But…

Steve’s selfish, self-indulgent side just wants to see his child dressed like a pumpkin. Is that so much to ask?

He agonizes for weeks, looks longingly at the displays of tiny orange outfits every time he does the grocery shopping. Halloween is only one day, they’ll never get their money’s worth out of a costume. Except maybe they can use it again if– well, hopefully when– they have more kids. And really, can Steve put a price on the joy he’ll experience seeing his son’s chubby little cheeks peeking out over the top of a pumpkin suit?

He puts it in the shopping cart. Eddie can take it out of his Christmas present budget.

Later, after the groceries have been put away and Zachary has taken his nap, Steve tries the costume on him. It’s something like a baggy felt tunic, slightly stuffed to make its overall shape more pumpkin-like, with a black jack o’lantern face on the front. The accompanying hat is also puffy, with a short green stem on top. Zach, the easy-going baby that he is, doesn’t fuss while Steve dresses him, doesn’t even fight when Steve puts on the hat and matching orange slippers.

The effect is so adorable that Steve gets teary. “Look at you!” he enthuses. “Daddy’s little pumpkin.”

Not as little as he was, getting bigger every day. It amazes Steve to watch him grow and develop. Zach can sit upright on his own now, can babble and laugh and recognize his name and clap his hands. He’s got four tiny teeth and Steve’s nose and a tangle of dark hair like Eddie. He loves bananas but refuses to eat peas. He has a favorite toy, a blue dog plushie that he drools all over. He’s starting to become his own little person, with a personality and interests and everything.

“Do you know how amazing you are?” Steve murmurs, hefting Zach into his arms and kissing the top of his head. “I’m so lucky that I get to be your daddy.”

Zach shrieks in delight, waving a hand until he hits Steve in the mouth and giggling when Steve pretends to bite at his tiny fingers.

He hears the front door open on the other side of the house and grins. “You wanna go surprise your dad?”

“Baba!” Zach babbles excitedly.

“Yeah, let’s go see Baba!”

It’s a short trip down the hallway from the nursery to the entryway, where Eddie is shrugging off his coat and kicking off his boots at the same time in an impressive balancing act. He looks up when he hears Steve and Zach approaching. “My two favorite boys!”

As soon as Eddie frees himself from his outerwear, he reaches for the baby with gleeful grabby hands. Steve passes Zach over, then accepts Eddie’s kiss hello.

“I’ve never seen such a cute pumpkin,” Eddie coos, smoothing a hand down Zach’s side to straighten out his costume. “Your daddy got you this, huh? Do you like it?”

“Baaaa!” Zach grabs a handful of Eddie’s hair and kicks his legs, thankfully missing any vital areas.

Steve chimes in, “He hasn’t stopped smiling since I put it on him. Though it could just be that he likes the attention it gets him.”

“Wonder where he gets that from,” Eddie muses innocently, just to make Steve laugh. To Zach, he says, “Wait until Grandpa Wayne sees you, pumpkin. He’s gonna eat you up!” He punctuates it with a tickle attack, cackling evilly over Zach’s screaming laughter.

The sight is so sweet that it makes Steve’s teeth hurt, but he also can’t deny the lump in his throat. With Zach growing so fast, it won’t be long before he’s walking and talking and getting too big to carry and starting school. Blinking to clear the tears welling up in his eyes, Steve distracts himself by adjusting Zach’s cap where it was dislodged by his ticklish squirming.

“You okay?” Eddie asks softly.

Damn him, he knows that being nice and gentle just makes Steve cry more. He rubs at his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, just thinking, you know. Our baby won’t be a baby forever.”

“Yeah,” he concedes, “but we’ll get to see him become other things. A toddler, an artist, a soccer player. A clown, maybe, who knows?”

Steve reluctantly smiles at that. “A kid of yours? Almost definitely.”

Eddie keeps his outraged gasp silent, mindful of Zach in his arms, before becoming serious again. “You want another one, don’t you.” Not a question, just a confirmation.

His throat is so tight that he can only nod. They haven’t talked about it since Zach was born, but their plans included a handful of kids, at least. Of course, Eddie could have changed his mind since then. Maybe the sleepless nights and endless laundry and lack of sex all add up to something he doesn’t want to go through again. Maybe he’s happy for Zach to be an only child, like both of them were. God, Steve hopes not.

Instead, Eddie shrugs as much as he can while holding a twenty-pound child in a pumpkin costume. “I’m ready whenever you’re ready,” he grins. “Mine is the easy part, so I’ll follow your lead.”

“Really?” Steve is so relieved he can’t stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks, even as he laughs giddily. “Okay, as soon as my heats start up again, we’re going for it.”

With his free arm, Eddie pulls Steve in for a kiss. It’s brief but sweet, both of them smiling through it. Steve is so full of love and excitement that his head swims with it.

“Bababa!” Zach interjects.

“Are you ready to be a big brother?” Eddie asks him, bouncing him gently and kissing his forehead. “You won’t be the only pumpkin in the patch anymore.”

They’re definitely keeping the costume for their next baby.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

pairing: poe dameron x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1077

summary:

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

author’s note: posting this as a sign of life, as it’s the only thing i’ve managed to finish over the last month 💀 i’m still working on my many joel, din, and frankie ideas. i’m just slow - hope you can forgive me.

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), able bodied reader, no physical descriptions for reader, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, pet names, uh kidnapping?

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

Where it got complicated was somewhere around drink two, when Poe slid his arm around your waist and your heart skipped a beat as you met his dark gaze. His full lips tilted up in a smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and you were long gone, mission temporarily forgotten as he leaned in close and pressed a trail of kisses across your neck.

Now you’re on your back in a cramped bunk, fingers tangled in Poe’s curly hair as he devours you like a starving man, tongue lavishing your clit with agonizing determination. A thick finger presses to your entrance, sliding in with little resistance as your back arches from the bed.

“Maker, you’re a mess,” Poe murmurs on a breath, head raised to watch you as he works a second finger into you, pressing deep and curling them against your front wall as he withdraws. His tan skin is shiny with your arousal and his hair is a mess and you want to say something back about how he’s not looking too put together right now himself but you can’t, not with the way his skilled hands are driving you to the brink.

A few swipes of his thumb across your clit is all it takes to make you shatter, the walls of your cunt squeeze his fingers as you come and come and come. Poe’s hand withdraws slowly and he presses your thighs apart, watching as you pulse around nothing and you whine at the loss.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he says, sitting up and working the belt of his flight pants loose. “Not finished yet.”

Poe shoves his pants down his thighs, only enough to expose his cock. He leans forward, elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head as he slides his length against your slick heat, brushing over your sensitive clit with each movement. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you deeply, his spicy scent and the earthy taste of your own release invading your senses as he does. The head of his cock catches against your entrance and he presses forward the slightest bit before pulling back again.

“Quit teasing,” you command, but your voice vibrates with need. He does it again, a little deeper this time, and again, a little deeper still.

“You can just say you want my cock,” he says, self-assured tone punctuated with a smirk. “Come on, say it.”

You stare up at him defiantly as he inches his hips forward, slowly, slowly, slowly. Your clenched jaw loosens, mouth dropping open on a gasp as he drags across a sensitive spot inside of you, and he stops, holding himself still inside of you. Despite all his arrogance, you can still see the way he’s fraying at the edges. It’s in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way the muscles in his neck have gone taut, the crack of joints as his hands clench into tight fists on the bed.

“Fuck me, Poe,” you finally say.

And fuck you he does.

He sits up on his knees, your ass perched on his thighs and his hands holding tight to your hips as he slams deep, punching the air from your lungs. His pace is brutal, powerful, singular determination etched into his features as he uses your body for his own pleasure now.

Hi hands leave your hips to lean over you once more, one hand on the mattress by your head and the other pressing one of your legs up and to the side, opening you wide. His hips slow from a piston to a smooth wave, each deep slide of him making you moan his name.

“That’s it,” he groans, “Who’s making you feel this good, sweetheart, huh?”

“You, Poe,” you reply.

“That’s right.” He drops to his elbows again, pressed close against your body, thrusts morphing into a grind that keeps you full. He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, soothes the ache with a kiss, and whispers how good you feel into your ear until you’re shaking, quietly begging for him to make you come again.

His hand slides between your bodies, fingers rubbing sloppy circles through the slick gathered on your skin. Another nip of his teeth sends you over the edge and he moans, deep and guttural against your neck as he fills you with a new warmth, cock pulsing as the waves of your own orgasm drag one from him.

You’re both panting, gasping for breath as you come down from your twin highs. Poe pulls out and turns over to land on the sliver of bed available between your body and the wall. He kicks his pants off into a pile at the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your middle, pulling your body against his.

“Stay,” he mumbles against your neck, a kiss pressed behind your ear. You don’t respond, you don’t have to. He’s asleep within seconds, gentle snores filling the small bunk space.

When you’re certain he’s out cold, you slide out from beneath his arm and dress yourself. You try not to think too hard about how you’d like to crawl back into bed with him, not while you’re digging your comm unit from your pants.

Ready for extraction.

When Poe wakes up, the first thing he notices is that you’re not there.

The second thing he notices is that he’s not even in his own bunk.

He sits up, panic coursing through his veins. Where is he? Where are you? Are you alright? Is he—

“Commander Dameron,” your familiar voice says through a speaker. Poe looks up, finds you watching him from the other side of a transparisteel window. “You’re safe. You’re currently on a Resistance base in an undisclosed location.”

“How did—“

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, Commander. You should probably have a medic droid look into that for you,” you say, cutting off his question. “You’ve been brought here to speak with General Organa.”

Poe smirks. “Do they know how exactly you got me here, sweetheart?”

“It’s Captain, actually.”

All masterlists

[vibratingskull]

Our mudane evening

Tag: Fingering, orgasm

Thrawnxf!reader

Everyone have a way to deal with stress and everyday pressure, Thrawn is no exception

Inhale…

Exhale…

Don’t lose the momentum.

You’re repeating this mantra in your mind, concentrating on your breathing.

Thrawn is humming a soft tune you've never heard, sliding through his datapad with one hand and tormenting you with the other.

You let a gasp pass your lips when a firm finger trailed up your slit, igniting your desir. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek without looking away from the screen.

You clench the bed frame harder.

Your evening had started out mundane, but here you are now sitting on your lover's lap lazily reclined in your bed struggling to control your mewls.

Focus.

Since the beginning of the evening he had you come several times, forcing out of your mouth the most obscene noises without regard for your dignity.

It does happen when other Imperial officers refuse to go his way or something unpredictable comes to jeopardize his well planned campaign. In those tiring moments, he enjoys having you on his lap in the smallest apparel and playing with you.

No angry intercourse where he would fuck away all his frustration. No, he prefers taking his time, slowly turning you on, taking you to the edge and pushing you beyond as many times as it pleases him. Until he gains back control and agency leaving you a mess, shaking all over, overstimulated but satisfied.

Granted, this is the most petty behavior he could display but you wouldn't refuse such a night.

It is a dance you know by heart, you've both repeated it many times before. Each step resulting in a moan and every tremor an invitation to explore further.

A “tsk” and a light slap to your cunt brought you back to reality. No daydreaming when Thrawn is taking care of you, his attention deserves no less than your complete focus.

Your hips jolt away at the abrupt slap and he chuckles lightly before whispering in your ear:

"You can hold onto me if it is too much."

His low but soft tone sends shivers down your spine and you gladly let go of the metal bed frame to wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling up against his warm body with a sigh of contentment. The contrast with the cold room gives you goosebumps and deliciously heightens the sensations.

"Make yourself comfortable ch'eo ch'acah."

He curls his fingers inside you and you ride them with delight, feeling the pleasure building back up again. His thumb finds your clit and starts toying with it, alternating between sweet pressure and a torturous rub.

You bite your lips, swinging your hips to increase the sensations. You could feel your wetness dripping onto his fingers and running down your thigh's tender flesh.

Thrawn lays his pad on the side of the bed, freeing his second hand to ease the muscles of your back under your blouse, pushing you closer against him. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Don’t. I'm covered in sweat." You protest breathily.

"I do not mind." He responds, punctuating each word with a kiss on your shoulder, slowly going back to your ear "It is the scent of effort…"

A kiss

"Of abandon…"

A kiss

"... Of your pleasure. It is intoxicating." Reaching your cheek, he slides his tongue following the same trail.

"And above all," He adds another finger inside you, hitting every single one of your sweet spots. "I love that it is I who is the cause of it."

He earns a high pitched gasp when his hand slided from your back to grab your thigh, spreading it wider and facilitating his access to your core. He scrutinizes your blissed expression with a satisfied smile.

"Tell me. Do I satisfy you? Tell me, ch'acah."

It takes all your willpower to not melt under his smoldering gaze. It makes you feel like the sole being in the universe and you harbor the hope he knows you look at him the same way.

"You -hah- you already know the answer."

"But nothing will be more satisfying than hearing it from your lips," He responds with the tip of his finger under your chin, guiding your lips a centimeter away from a feverish kiss, ”Tell me, am I still everything you have ever desired? I want to hear it from your mouth. I do like to know when my work is appreciated."

" I… You…" You try to formulate a coherent response but you start feeling a familiar warmth spreading inside of you.

"Use your words, ch'eo cssapusi." He purrs.

A delicious shudder shakes your body at the sensation of his dexterous fingers inside you. He knows all your sweet spots by heart and plays with them with every nickname he gives you.

"You're the only one I -hah- have ever desired so intensely. You -hah- you fill my head and make my heart beat," You suddenly dig your nails in his shoulders "Maker! Don’t stop, I'm so close!"

"Then kiss me like you mean it."

No need to tell you twice, your hands move to hold his gorgeous face and you crash your mouth on his, kissing him fervidly. His hand slipped behind your head, embracing you even closer, deepening the kiss with an equally eager desire. His other hands accelerate its ministrations, sliding in and out, hooking you and meeting the erratic rhythm of your sex craving its sweet release.

At last the surge comes to an end when the vortices of pleasure come crashing down upon you like furious waves, drowning everything else but a delicious feeling of repletion and pleasant warmth. Your satisfied pleas are silenced by your languid kiss, and you can feel his swollen lips forming a light smile.

The kiss ends and you slowly regain your breath, forehead against forehead, letting occasionally a low chuckle, simply happy to be with one another.

Thrawn leaves pecks on your forehead while loosening his collar.

"You did well ch'eo ch'acah, as always."

You exhale a thanks and notice his movements are steady but his voice is shakened, even though he's good at hiding it. Your performance didn't leave him unbothered and you didn't miss it.

Your hand gets a hold of his still working on his collar squeezing it gently, while your second trails down to his too tight trousers.

"Leave it be. I'm taking care of you from now on."

ch'eo ch'acah - My love

ch'eo cssapusi - My treasure

@exoplorationn, @bluechiss

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

Continuity and Tonal Shifts in Season Ten

This is gonna be a really long meta describing some of my frustrations with the current writing decisions. I'm approaching these as someone who loves the show and wants it to succeed, and I'm not making any sweeping "the show is problematic" or "the writers are bad" statements, just that the writing decisions lately have been poor in my opinion and I need to express my thoughts on that.

So as a lot of people may or may not know, Fink and Cranor alternate writing episodes, and according to Patreon, they have minimal communication about what is going to happen in the next episode, giving the other relative creative freedom. This often works when the style of Night Vale is random, disjointed, and with a lot of left-field plot devices, but with this current plot line so grounded in literal stuff and reality, it is SO FRUSTRATING. Especially because Fink mentioned in a patreon post that he only backreads the past five episodes to maintain continuity - something that clearly does not work when your show is over 230 episodes long, has had tons of live shows, and expanded into three books. I feel like the last three episodes have had a very off-putting disconnect, and that makes this writing decision REALLY REALLY OBVIOUS in a glaring can't-overlook-it-anymore way.

There's no way to know which writer wrote which episode, but we'll say "odd writer" and "even writer" for continuity's sake. I have my personal opinion about which writer wrote what, but I don't want to share that here. It could be that Fink is odd writer and Cranor is even writer, or it could be the other way around, but what matters is that odd writer and even writer didn't communicate.

227, written by odd writer: Blake lures Cecil away with a made-up sob story and Cecil departs the station. Lubelle comes to the radio station and gives a long speech about Night Vale, condescends about Cecil's hold over the town, explains away the weather, says outright that she's taking over, and leaves with the ominous "show over, Night Vale, show over" closing tag. What's going to happen? Find out in two weeks!

228, written by even writer: Actually she just briefly broke into the radio station and left without a struggle and Blake was just tricking Cecil and let him go, and now Cecil is back and Lubelle hasn't taken over anything yet, nor kidnapped him. But science is going to be made illegal to stop Dr. Lubelle and the Univeristy, and that will really mess with Carlos! What's going to happen? Find out in two weeks!

229, written by odd writer: Science is illegal but the University decided to just straight up ignore it and continue with all of their stuff using a bunch of technical work-arounds and sheer numbers to overwhelm the town, so it doesn't really affect anyone other than Carlos, who by the way is barely in an episode that's supposed to be about his struggles. Anyway, Lubelle brought all of her faculty into town, so that's probably bad. What will they do? Find out in two weeks!

It's starting to feel like we're reliving the Star Wars sequel trilogy, except there's two JJ Abrams and neither of them is talking to each other. Every episode ends on this intense buildup and then it immediately fizzles away at the start of the next one. It's like getting edged by someone who keeps pulling their hand away so they can go on their phone and type "actually everything is fine now" before they get back to it.

There's one other thing I want to mention about this odd writer/even writer dilemma, which is episode 225. This was an odd writer episode, and in it, Lubelle asks Cecil to come down to the University for some "tests", an offer that he finds very offensive, but one that's punctuated by Dr. Jones snickering that Station Management has been explained away. It really feels like odd writer is trying to set up plotline where the University becomes interested in Cecil, whether that's for his connection to the town or his relationship with Carlos, and even writer just does not want to let that happen.

There's even a bit of a tonal shift, where odd writer paints Dr. Jones as cunning, "Couldn't be station management. They don't even exist. They've been, well... they've been explained." (episode 225) "Looks like Blake succeeded in tricking that fool away from his mic," (episode 227) and then even writer does an about-face and makes him cowardly instead, forcing odd writer to go along with that characterization; so odd writer decides to just write him out of the story without really doing anything.

The lack of communication between the two writers is becoming more and more obvious, and for the fans, more and more frustrating. There are also so many great fan-assembled resources that demonstrate every episode a character or plot point has appeared in, so I feel like it shouldn't be that hard for the writers to find their own system of continuity - or hell, just borrow ours and then throw in a "extra thank to the contributors of the Night Vale wikia" in the credits or something. You guys do this for a living! Is it so much to ask if we'd like you to be good at it?

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

🧊, 🪷, 🍋‍🟩, 🫧 for the ask game!

HI!! Thank you so much for the ask hehe!!! I'll do this one for Finn!!

🧊 - how would your f/o text you? would they use proper punctuation/capitalization, or type more informally?

Finn is not a very text-y person, bonus points for him having a flipphone. The few times he does normally text is with Leland, and they have their own special like.. texting code language that would need to be deciphered. He spares me from it and just texts me regularly though! The few times he does text me, it's very short texts, sometimes even skipping over words if it means shortening the text but the point can still be get across. That doesn't stop him from properly punctuating and capitalizing it all though.

🪷 - if the roles were reversed and your f/o was the one selfshipping with you, what would their blog look like?

I don't think he'd have the usual selfshipping blog. Truthfully, you probably wouldn't even be able to tell that it's a selfshipping blog! I doubt he'd even go into the selfshipping tags either. The blog would probably mostly be just a bunch of reblogging of different pictures and quotes and aesthetic things that he'd find that reminded him of me. He'd probably have like a total of two original posts and that's it. Nearly a big pinterest board, in a sense.

🍋‍🟩 - similarly, what would your contact names be for each other?

My contact name for him is typically just his first name and that's it, but sometimes I'll mess around and make it something silly or a nickname that I occasionally give him, like "Finny" or "Finnigan" or "Dearest" things along those lines! Maybe throwing in an emoji or two depending on how I'm feeling.

At first, his contact name for me was just my last name, but then at some point it shifted over to just being my first name! I don't think he'd be particular about it, probably just straightforward short and sweet. I think the only time he'd change it is if he had some concern that prompted him to do so, but then he'd make it something completely obscure, and probably change it after each call.

🫧 - what song(s) remind you of your f/o?

Ohhhhhhhmigosh I knowwww this is my blog and my answer to an ask game but don't get me started cause we will be here all day and all night if I do!!!! You've seen those posts of me exploding over things like this!! Or someone has, at least. But, staple song for me and him, sums up our entire interaction and story and everything, I could write an essay- nay- a novel on this, but La vie en rose by Michael Bublé, feat. Cécile McLorin Salvant. There. That's it. There's particular lines in there that I could narrow down but then I'd break out into essay mode. One of the few songs where every line applies, and YES I'm including the parts in french. Bonus bonus points cause Finn knows French. Too, too many of Michael Bublé songs I've ransacked his spotify playlist with. I want to buy a music box that plays this song one day if I can. I really love music boxes and this song would be perfect on one. He played it on his piano once and I started crying. I have to cut myself short before I go on for any longer but wow, oh wow, what a special spot this song holds in my heart cause of him. This is like.. THE song for us. There's other songs that are really good ajd fitting, but this is THE one, the staple song, the first one that always pops into my head. I shall stop myself here before I carry on for any longer. Finn, I love you.

[urconductor]

#URCONDUCTOR; indie roleplay blog for pom-pom from honkai: star rail, written by ender. canon & headcanon-based. please read rules before interacting!

DOSSIER. (tbd. pom-pom is an adult and goes by they/he pronouns tho)

RULES BELOW CUT.

Hello, hello! I’m Ender, an adult and an extroverted gal with autism and ADHD. Thanks for taking the time to read this! There’s no password to send in, so no need to look for one! Please read these carefully. Be 16 or above to interact.

BLACKLIST: TRIGGERS. i NEED these tagged. i have a physiological and psychological response to these topics that can greatly affect my mental health. if you can't respect my triggers, we cannot write together. My catch-all tags are "ender dont look" and "ender don't look".

any religious themes, emphasis on them when they're minor, and/or religious intolerance.

use of the word “god” in reference to powerful beings. Replacing such things with “ruler”/etc and generally making relations akin to king/subjects are good buffers that I can work with.

excessive verbal swearing

craneflies and daddy-long-legs

Extremely heavy organic gore visuals, especially in regard to organs, guts, and the heart

vi.vziepop, good omens, supernatural, c.ult of the lamb

BLACKLIST: SQUICKS. i'd appreciate these being tagged as well, but they do not spawn a severe reaction from me. i just want to avoid them.

any deep, in-depth descriptions of non-fantasy occult/magic + occult in general (like direct mentions of ouija boards, details of rituals, and stuff)

all smut and lewd content

politics/drama

TAGGING. I tag writing and fictional-related talk of potentially triggering topics as #trigger cw. various medias are tagged as #media cw. If I miss anything or you need something tagged, please tell me in DMs! i’m happy to help you curate your experience, and i want everyone to stay safe. /gen

INTERACTIONS.

non-roleplay blogs, please do not reblog any of my posts. if it's someone else's art/musing/photo/etc I've reblogged, those are free game! but please do not touch posts made by me whether they are in-character, out-of-character, or just my sketches. thanks!

I am mutually exclusive but am generally super friendly! I'll give nearly everyone a chance, even if I don’t know the muse or media! Crossovers, even with no plotting beforehand, are really fun.

i require a rules page to read before I follow, and won’t follow until I’ve read the rules. I tend to like promos to bookmark them so I can read the person’s rules later.

i won’t follow people who do not tag any of their posts. even basic “ic” or “ooc” or “musing” tags and such are good! I don’t care how fancy or simple your tags are, I just care that you have them and use them consistently.

i am duplicate and OC-friendly! For OCs, I require at least a simple About page to look at ‘cause I prefer to know your character a little before interacting! Duplicates are also fun for me to plot with ‘cause past/future meetings, AU meets canon, etc. are SUPER epic plots and very fun! I’m very used to duplicates and have been for years across different RPCs ^.^

i do not roleplay in “character: text” or *action* format. I prefer to interact with people who roleplay paragraph style and have a basic grasp of grammar, punctuation, and spelling; I completely understand if English isn’t your first language, though!

i do not mind unplotted violence against my muse, especially if they're messing around and finding out. however, make sure you are also prepared for the consequences. I love action and battle threads, but anything significant must be plotted.

MUN POLICIES.

Mun does NOT equal muse. Just because I, the mun, think or know something does not mean that my muse will. I’m an omnipresent narrator, they are characters in-universe. They each will have different thoughts and opinions than I will. It should go without saying that I do not condone everything any of my muses do.

i am a slow writer. I have college and several other things that take up my time, so I can’t be here twenty-four-seven! Also, my muse fluctuates. I may reply to something instantly if I have the muse for it, or I may get to it weeks later. I hoard drafts and asks like a dragon to get to them eventually! BUT feel free to nudge me if you want to remind me, I won’t mind!

importantly, I match my partner’s energy. If someone frequently engages me to talk about our characters, I’m likely to do the same! Unfortunately, the same applies if we hardly interact or talk at all; I’m good at interacting and communicating first, but I have a limited pool of energy.

i do not ship romantically on this blog. I don’t mind others’ romantic content, I simply personally abstain from writing romantic ships due to being harassed over them in the past. However, I love familial ships, platonic ships, rivalries, work relationships, enemy/antagonistic dynamics, and relations that can't necessarily be defined with words!

ON FANDOMS & MEDIA.

Expect headcanons to sometimes fluctuate and also expect canon divergence.

i am unaffiliated with any fandoms or creators.

i will interact with/make AUs for the following fandoms. Still, they can be tagged upon request: Final Fantasy(i know the most about VII, VIII, IX, X, XV, Unlimited, Dissidia, Dissidia 012), Sonic The Hedgehog, Pokemon, Portal, Gravity Falls, Ducktales 2017, A Hat in Time, Little Nightmares, Over The Garden Wall, OMORI, IB, The Legend of Zelda, Don’t Starve, Pocket Mirror, Super Mario Bros., Spiderverse, and Overwatch. I am very selective but not opposed to Five Nights at Freddy's, Murder Drones and The Amazing Digital Circus interactions. For these, if I followed you first/we’re mutuals, then we’re chill!

[dameronswife]

i know that our love was fate (ii)

Word Count: 355 words!

Warnings/Tags: firefight, volya being so, so into her husband and vice versa.

A/N: so I decided to make this a kind of daily challenge, a little short ficlet of Poe and Volya every day! I kind of want it to be a glimpse into their lives together as told through various kisses. I think it's fun! I may not cross-post each one though because that would be a lot.

“So are we going to talk about it?” Volya asks, voice raised over the volley of blasts drumming - and ricocheting - behind the table they’ve ducked behind.

Poe glances over at her: she’s checking her blaster, shoulders hiked up as another laser bolt flies precariously inches over their heads. Her cheeks are flushed, lekku swaying slightly at her shoulders. She looks alive in that wild, reckless way he adores. “Talk about what?”

There’s a lull in the fire and Volya peers around their makeshift cover, punctuating her response with a handful of shots, “The fact that the Guavian Death Gang knows you by name?”

He winces. “I might’ve run into them a couple times in the past.”

Volya rears backwards, narrowly missing being hit by another bolt. Poe’s heart staggers in his chest, and then does it again for a vastly different reason when Volya turns to look at him, eyebrows raised, a smirk pulling on her lips. “I’m guessing that things didn’t go their way either time?”

Despite himself, despite the situation they’re in (and in because of him, no less), Poe huffs a laugh. “Well, that’s one way of putting it. Ran into ‘em the first time when….” he trails off, not precisely wanting to say, but Volya softens and he knows she understands what he’s not saying, so Poe continues, “and maybe they’d be willing to let a grudge with a sixteen year old go, but with a New Republic Officer? Never.”

“Troublemaker,” Volya says, fondness saturating her tone as much as an undercurrent of desire does. 

“Someone has to be.”

The barrage of laser blasts grows in volume, both in quantity and sound, as Volya surges forward, grabbing Poe by the nape of the neck to pull him in for a kiss. It’s heated and slick, her lips moving against his and it almost feels like she’s teasing him, by starting something neither of them can presently finish.

Her eyes are sparking with mischief when she lets him go. “Shall we show them why you shouldn’t mess with a troublemaker and a Jedi?”

Poe grins. “Don’t have to ask me twice, Spitfire.”

[altschmerzes]

First Sentences Game!

tagged by @disappearinginq (thank youuuu!!!)

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

putting the rest of this under a cut so it’s not a huge long post! decided to take a leaf out of disappearinginq’s book and use only WIPs that haven’t been posted yet so >:) enjoy. we got 4 ted lasso fics, 2 9-1-1 fics, 2 locked tomb fics, 1 now you see me fic, 1 flashpoint fic, and 1 ffxv fic. yes that adds up to 11. it’s a surprise.

i have included the opening...... Couple Of Paragraphs. Or for these lmao because as always with me, i cannot help it and it is longer than intended.

tagging some folks up front no pressure but if you want an excuse to share your stories or brag on yourself this is your cue. i dont think it matters if it’s posted fics or wips - @heavensenthale @appalachianapologies @bold-and-nosy @nativestarwrites @impossiblepluto @roguelibrarian (and anyone compelled to do this who can go ahead and take this as a sign to say i tagged you and Do It)

1. Love Stuck - ted lasso

the aromantic jamie tartt fic. jamie realizes he’s aro, and this becomes a study of his and keeley’s post-breakup friendship and how aromanticism can open doors and allow for more freedom and personal choice in relationships for non-aro people too.

The only warning that Keeley gets before Jamie shows up at her house is a text message that she knows he sent by voice-to-text because of its use of capital letters and the complete lack of emojis. It announces his imminent arrival and apologizes for the lack of warning, explaining that he forgot to do that until he was almost there, all in one long, run-on sentence without punctuation. She has just enough time to grab a cardigan, because she’d been getting kind of chilly anyway, and pause the episode of Sex and the City she had been watching before he’s ringing the doorbell.

When Keeley opens the door, Jamie bypasses any kind of perhaps typically-expected greeting. While this isn’t exactly unusual for him, what he says is.

“I’ve got great news,” he tells her, smiling like he really does have great news, which helps to somewhat offset the sense of foreboding she’d been starting to feel. “I am not in love with you. Can I come in?”

2. Wriggle Up On Dry Land - ted lasso

au where everything is pretty much the same except for the part where jamie is the fifteen year old groundskeeper’s assistant who works part-time at nelson road. proceeds approximately through the timelines/events of seasons 1 and 2 (and maybe 3 depending on how that goes).

At this point, Ted has been in England for less than forty-eight hours, he’s slept for somehow both too many and not enough of those hours, and people keep saying things to him that are ostensibly in English but have no coherent meaning he can wring from his exhausted, jet lagged brain. This, he thinks, is a reasonable explanation for why it takes him several moments to process what he’s seeing when he reaches the coaching office.

One hand loosely gripping the strap of his backpack, the other holding out his keys in preparation to unlock the office, Ted stands there for a long time and blinks. The office does not need unlocking, it turns out, because the door is already open. The door is already open, and there’s what appears to be a kid crouching next to it, doing… something to the lowest hinge with a screwdriver. The boy glances up when Ted approaches, but makes no direct acknowledgement of him and goes immediately back to whatever he’s doing with the tool.

Now. On the one hand, this is a teenager Ted has never seen before and he is messing with the door of the head coaching office. That feels like bad news. On the other hand, he is wearing a grey zippered jacket with the Richmond logo on one lapel and STAFF embroidered underneath it in cursive. That, and his non-reaction to Ted catching him mid-potential-mischief, seems to indicate maybe this whole situation is above board after all.

“Uh,” Ted says after the silent pause has gone on long enough that he officially feels like he’s being rude. “Good morning?”

3. the bus curse 5+1 - ted lasso

Five Times The Curse Of The AFC Richmond Away Game Post-Game Bus Ride Home (Mostly Referred To Simply As 'The Bus Curse' For Conservation Of Time) Ruined The Night And One Time It Tried To But Couldn’t. tl;dr bus is haunted (roy voice It Is Not) (for fun and profit the chapter titles for this are ‘twitter’ ‘illness’ ‘the heavy existential burden of captaincy’ ‘nightmare’ ‘injury’ and ‘double birthday’)

The most important thing to understand about The Curse Of The AFC Richmond Away Game Post-Game Bus Ride Home (mostly referred to as ‘the bus curse’ for conservation of time) is that it doesn’t fucking exist.

Roy is fully ready and willing to die on this hill and go to his grave still swearing up and down that the ‘curse’ is superstitious bullshit, just like the one on the training room. Sure, he’s experienced two flat tires and a radiator overheating on the way home with Richmond, which never happened with any previous team, but that’s probably because management always hired the cheapest charter possible. Sure, the driver once stopped off for petrol and simply never came back from inside the station, but that’s because the bloke apparently had some kind of epiphany and decided to radically change his life, not because of the bus itself. Sure, there have been some dozen-odd other assortment of events ranging from inconveniences to calamities that have disrupted specifically the return bus journey from away matches, but there are explanations for all of them, none of which involve any kind of curse.

4. Never Been In Love - 9-1-1

the aromantic evan buckley fic. buck has a very rocky time coming to terms with being aro, and then telling everyone about it. ft internalized arophobia, romance repulsion, found family, the power of queer friendship, and the way the episode with red the retired firefighter was the perfect set-up for an aro character realization but of course they’d never go there.

The thing about dates is that, theoretically, at some point they are supposed to go well. And it’s not like Buck’s never been on dates that he has fun on. He has! A lot of them, actually! He’s a people person, he always has been, he likes spending time around others and spending time one-on-one is extra nice - it feels nice to bask in the attention and to focus his attention solely on someone else for a while. However, there always comes a point where the woman Buck is out with starts blatantly flirting and he knows he needs to flirt back, or he just… remembers that he’s out on a date and not just hanging out with a cool person he wants to get to know better, and it all goes sour.

The end of it is, even when Buck’s dates go well, they don’t. The mere fact that they’re dates is enough to thoroughly ruin the experience, either in the moment or in hindsight, particularly once there’s an expectation that there are going to be more dates and, at some point, a relationship. And that… Buck really just doesn’t know what to do with that.

5. One-Way Mirror - now you see me

oneshot set between movies 1 and 2 that gets at explaining some of the shifts in character dynamics and digs into what it would be like for dylan to mesh with the team when they were already a team and he was on the outside. lot of focus on what happened to create such a faith in him from jack specifically.

The nice thing about setting yourself up to look like the lawman who got duped by a team of criminals just a little too smart for him is that, when you announce your intention to take a sabbatical, nobody really asks too many questions. Dylan must have played his role effectively, because not an eyelid is bat when the Agent who got too invested in fugitives that ultimately eluded him decides to take off for a while. He has the leave accrued, it’s a matter of putting in the paperwork. Fuller is a little concerned but Evans waves it through with barely a thought. Cowan swans around the office dripping smug satisfaction, and Dylan keeps his head down and swallows it.

He goes to France to visit Alma first. While things are still white-hot in the fallout of the case, the Horsemen are laying low in the area. They’ll take off for a house the Eye has arranged soon enough, but in the handful of days intervening Dylan gets on a plane to Paris. Alma deserves some answers after everything she went through on this case with him, and if it means he’s going to get arrested after all, well, so be it. The others are set up, they’ll be okay.

6. untitled fic about mercymorn and augustine in a doc labeled ‘rotates them’ - the locked tomb series

this is simply me losing my mind about this dynamic, getting somewhat at how they came up with the plan they attempted to enact in ht9.

“Do you love your brother?”

Augustine stops in his tracks, facing away from her. His body twitches in a horrid, disarticulated little spasm, like a marionette that’s been electrocuted. The question has hurt him, and she can tell.

Good, Mercymorn thinks. Pain sharpens the senses.

“How dare you ask me that.”

Mercymorn does not back down. For one thing, she does not, as a rule, back down. Ever. For another, she’d caught up to him here and brought up the subject for a reason, and it isn’t just to torment him with it.

7. One Right Move - flashpoint

time loop of the episode one wrong move where lou young died. spike relives his best friend’s death over and over and over until he can figure out how to make it stop.

This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the worst day of Michaelangelo Scarlatti’s life ends - not with a bang, but with the echo of one.

Explosions have not been an unusual occurrence in Spike’s world to date. Moments of ground-shaking thunder and fire have come and gone for him the way a lawyer conducts depositions or a surgeon draws a dotted line indicating where they plan to cut - something that is an incomprehensible oddity to those outside the profession, but as familiar as the tree on the corner of the street you drive down every day to those inside it. While the detonation of a bomb may be the worst or most shocking thing to happen in the life of just about any random person you grabbed off the street, it’s Tuesday for Spike. Even when they go bad, they still ultimately go. He doesn’t spend hours reliving them after the smoke has cleared.

This time, he does. Laying on his side on the couch in Greg’s living room, the moment that mine went off replays again and again. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s imagining it or if something is still actually exploding, because Spike can still feel himself shaking from the percussive force. Or maybe shaking from something else. It’s hard to tell, now, in this diluted, slipping evening that doesn’t feel remotely real.

8. Can’t Grow A Proper Branch - 9-1-1

5+1 of five times someone got one of the pieces indicating that buck’s childhood and family were Really Fucking Bad and one time he just straight out told someone.

Man plans and God laughs.

When Bobby was growing up, the Nash family’s next door neighbor had been a Rabbi and his wife whose older daughter had been his age. Often, when his parents were working late, Bobby would end up at the Rose house, playing with Sarah Rose or doing homework with her at the kitchen table under Rabbi Rose’s quiet supervision. Man plans and God laughs. A Yiddish proverb Rabbi Rose had been fond of. Even though it’s been decades since he’d lived in the house in St. Paul next door to the Roses, decades since he’d last spoken to the man at all, the phrase he’d used so often still pops into Bobby’s head sometimes. It even makes its way out of his mouth now and then.

From the moment they meet, it feels to Bobby like Evan Buckley is God laughing at his plans.

9. Game Over. Try Again? - final fantasy xv

the first time noctis had to use a phoenix down on each of his friends. exploring game resurrection mechanics from a narrative standpoint.

Gladio has been twenty years old for all of nine days when he dies in an assassination attempt that leaves Noctis without a scratch. It all happens so quickly that there’s no time to feel the energy in the air change before the shooting starts.

A second before the first bullet shatters what had been a perfectly fine, unremarkable afternoon, Gladio’s hand closes around Noctis’s arm, the other plants in the square centre of his back, and he’s being shoved so hard it propels him several feet forward. He’s all ready to be pissed, to whirl around and demand that the big dumb bastard explain what, precisely, his issue is when a chunk of concrete explodes from the waist-high wall he’s landed behind. Noctis isn’t really sure what he thinks is happening at first, but ‘someone is shooting bullets at me because they are trying very hard to kill me’ is not it.

10. baby heist au - ted lasso

the one where bex decides to leave rupert, rebecca decides to help her, an extremely unlikely friendship forms, and i cast spell of ‘hold a baby’ on the entire richmond greyhounds roster.

The first thing that enters Rebecca’s mind when she gets the initial message is suspicion. She stares at her mobile, squinting at the text from the number - unattached to anyone in her address book - and trying to piece together who it could possibly be from.

Hello Rebecca. I was wondering if you might have time for a coffee and a chat soon. I have something I’d really like to discuss with you.

It came through just as she was walking to her desk upon first arriving at the office, and caught her so off-guard that she’s still standing there in the middle of the room looking at the screen when the second message arrives.

Oh, this is Bex by the way. Bex Harper.

A third, not a moment later.

Well. Bex Mannion I guess.

bonus 11. baby heist au 2: 2 heist, 2 baby - the locked tomb series

modern au (i know, but bear with me) where it’s like pov. you are ortus nigenad. you are in your very early twenties. you have come to the unfortunate realization that you are in a cult and you have Fucking Snapped and you cannot be here one more moment longer. on your way out, you decided to take a pair of toddlers with you. pov. you are abigail pent. you are a professor and you live with your husband in the top floor of a duplex. a young man with a pair of little girls just moved in downstairs, and you’ve got the feeling there’s something Going On with them.

The bottom unit of the building has been empty since before Abigail moved into the upstairs of the duplex on Primis Street. She’s never met the person who owns it, and so there has never been an opportunity to ask after this curiosity, despite her desire to know if there was a reason for it. Magnus tells her that it’s probably just not a keenly desired neighbourhood, especially for the university demographic comprising most of their area, but still she has always wondered.

When someone does move into it, Abigail doesn’t notice at first. It’s such a shock the first time she hears a sound and looks out of her unit just in time to see the downstairs door close behind someone that she nearly calls after him on the spot. She manages to repress the instinct, but she calls Magnus immediately upon going back inside.

“What? Since when?” he asks when Abigail tells him they’ve finally got neighbours.

“I haven’t the faintest idea! I just saw him coming home. Didn’t see much, just the door closing behind him, but I think he’s young. There’s not even a car out front! It’s all quite mysterious.”

Things do not clear up from there, especially not once Abigail catches her first glimpse of the children.

[unknownjpegs]

claustrophobia

“Starting to think you have a claustrophobia kink, or something.”

Xavier’s lips are pressed up to Benji’s throat so he can feel the vibration of his words and it’s enough to make him feel like a dog sniffing out a treat—unleashed and a little fucking feral about it. His teeth pinch the other man’s skin a little, earn him a sound that’s close to a whimper before Benji manages to wrangle it in. The soldier’s hand winds into Xavier’s dark red hair, shoves his head backward until it’s ground against the shitty leather seat of the car. The backseat is not spacious enough for someone as long as Xavier—nor is it spacious enough for someone as stocky and thickly built as Benji.

But, when you’re a criminal, trying to wrestle out spare time with one of those good SAS boys, you really can’t pick and choose the place. And tinted windows are helpful, unless some bully comes across the parked car and wants to instigate a ticket. Which case, Xavier does have a crowbar underneath the backseat. Not above using it to scare off the police; one more broken law under his belt.

Besides, that just means Benji has to be on top of him and they have to be pressed together in ways that aren’t entirely comfortable. He’s got a belt buckle pressed into the back of his spine and Benji’s leg is half crooked, his other folded around Xavier’s leg. It’s a mess of them both, but he wasn’t regretting all but kidnapping the man into the back of the car.

“You look stupid hot in your uniform,” is how Xavier chooses to reply, because he doesn’t want to think that maybe he does have a thing for tiny enclosed spaces. Or just has them for when Benji is involved. Because their bodies are warm together, he can smell the other man and it makes his chest expand in a way that hurts. Also, he’s hard as a fucking rock, but ignoring that. “Like, duh. I’ve been around military guys my whole life—but, man, you wear these pants real fuckin’ well.”

He punctuates it by squeezing Benji’s muscular thighs.

“Yeah? And I got a cramp in my leg that’s making me murderous, man. So if we doin’ somethin’, let’s have it.”

Xavier feels confused for a moment, looking at Benji hunched over him. His dog tags have slipped over from his military issue shirt, swinging a little. They’re different looking from Shadow tags—because of course Graves would get them their own cute, special ones, keep them all separated from the pack. He wants to yank Benji down by them, but instead, he pushes the tags up and back into his shirt. The soft feel of his fingertips on that barest hint of skin is enough to make a little firework go off inside Xavier’s lower stomach. He pats the other man’s side happily.

“Your accent’s cute.”

“Xavier, Christ—”

“Dude, I have you in the backseat of a car—I’m really not trying to fuck right now—”

Benji’s weight adjusts enough to make Xavier see stars again, that grinding sensation pushing his own tactical belt harder into his hips. He has to bite off a sound that would be half pained and half, really, really, really not pained.

“Then what’re you doing?”

“Move,” Xavier grunts, hands on Benji’s side and trying to manipulate their bodies.

“Piss off, you’re too big—Don’t grin like that. I didn’t mean your co—Wanker, you’re—Ow—Xavier.”

Benji is seething out his words by the time Xavier manages to get on top of him. He’s panting with the exertion it took to move them both, but his face is proudly lit up now that he’s maneuvered himself to look down at the combat medic. One of his legs is fallen into the footed area of the backseat, the other hitched up a little, but firmly on Benji’s side. He looks flushed and pretty and Xavier’s hand takes his chin, full palm and fingers holding him in one giant grip.

When he kisses him, it’s the same as their first kiss, just with a lot less blood. Still maybe, too much tongue. He can feel either of their facial hair making burns across their skin, he can feel the movement of Benji’s entire body up against him. He can taste the man, and it makes him feel that much more tight and wound up and almost angry. Xavier kisses harder, feels Benji’s hand wind back into his hair. Feels the scratch of his blunt fingernails and it makes Xavier unhitch, lean back and sigh out a sound that has Benji’s facial expression looking obscene.

“Why’d you yank me in ‘ere if we’re not…” Benji’s words trail off, his throat bobbing with a swallow. Xavier’s lips feel tingly from how hard they’d been pressed to his mouth.

“Sometimes, when I look at you,” Xavier starts, hand trailing over Benji’s chest. “You, this good boy soldier, with all your good boy soldier buddies. Man,” he leans in, grinds his cheek against Benji’s, grinds his full body down on him. He huffs out and then breathes in deeply the smell of Benji. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s like—Man, I wanna fuck you.”

“Look, no offense, mate—I’d be doin’ the fucking. Like, look at you. You’re asking for it all the time, practically.” And it makes Xavier laugh, makes his teeth bite into Benji’s cheek, which makes Benji’s hand slap down hard on Xavier’s thigh—probably aiming for his ass, but they’re all wonky, crunched up against each other in the weirdest of positions. Still makes Xavier’s hips buck forward, their tac’d geared bodies hard together.

“No one’s fucking anyone,” Xavier says, wrapping hands around Benji’s wrists and pinning them up against the back seat window. He’s shocked that Benji doesn’t immediately rip out the grip—the man’s strong. Real strong and Xavier knows it. Is very fond of how strong he is, but Benji’s looking up at him, like he’s curious, but like he’s also—nah. Not afraid. But, something else is there. Worry? Suspicion?

Xavier lets a wrist go to slide his arm up under Benji’s shoulders and grunts when he gets them both close again.

“Ignore my boner.”

“I’m trying, mate. Trust me. I am trying.”

Then Xavier kisses him again, his fingers tightening around Benji’s wrist, his thumb pressing against the pulse point. He kisses him until both of them are struggling to breathe and then he parts just to kiss him again.

“Like, all I could think of, watching you, was how bad you needed a fucking hug.” Xavier’s chest is tight to Benji’s, so he can feel the way the medic flinches, shudders full body. Probably has to do with the belt buckle Xavier knows was just shoved into his own tail bone. “Man, it’s crazy how bad I just want to—Dude, I could squeeze you till you fuckin’ snapped in my arms. I mean, not literally. You’re like, very broad. Very muscular. But you get it right?”

“It’s hot when you ramble, Xavier, but real hard to follow the plot when you’re drooling.”

“I’m drooling?” He quickly swipes a hand over his mouth, cheeks dark and red. “Anyway, let me get to the point. You ever look at someone and instantly want—not like want to fuck them? Right? But want,” he tilts his head and looks at Benji and really looks at him. Scruffy, tired looking, worn at the edges and frayed about. Xavier’s thumb digs into his wrist again, makes Benji’s brows pinch harder, his lips part to speak again. “Like just a hug? Right? You get that, right?”

The car windows have fogged because of all their heavy breathing. And Xavier’s leg is quickly going numb. He feels a nervous sensation in his stomach, a weird fluttering—that has nothing to do with the semi half hard on he has pressed against Benji’s thigh.

“Yeah,” is how the medic replies, after a long stretch of silence. His words pop a bubble and Xavier falls back down on him.

“Jesus, never make me explain myself again. That was like the most I’ve strung a thought together in a month. And it didn’t even include explosives; which are the more fun things I get to do as a criminal—”

“Look, merc, let’s keep kissin’ alright? I got to rendezvous with SAS eventually.”

Xavier rises up from where he’d laid his head on Benji’s chest and he pretends not to see an extra emotion on the mans face when they kiss again. Pretends not to notice how much softer and supple his body is against him. Pretends that it doesn't make Xavier’s chest hurt to think about it; that Benji might have had someone not content enough with a stolen fucking kiss in the back of shitty car, limbs getting sore and cranky from being shoved together like this.

[lonepiper5758]

AO3 First Lines Tag Game

@dairogo Thanks HEAPS! for the ask. Sorry it's taken me soooo long to reply.

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

Serene

Creaking bedsprings and a disgruntled sigh fill the dark space.

Gambit (Poem)

Gazing through death darkened eyes I see A stranger I know too well

Start Where You Are

What does he think he’s doing? How is this, in any way, going to help? Dressed in nondescript worker’s clothes, worn and crumpled, frayed cuffs and scuffed boots; not his usual crisp uniform or dapper civvies; he threads his way along the uneven, narrow walkways.

All the Paths We Could've Walked

Discharged from the hospital and returned to duty, but there was nothing normal about it.

It Is Enough

Alchemy is not kind.

The Joints of His Armour

He didn’t need to look up from his newspaper to know who was walking into the range; the regular clap of boots on the concrete floor, punctuating the steady hum of fluorescent lighting. This time of day most cadets were grabbing some down time between the finish of classes and training, before the dinner rush at the mess kicked off.

But not Cadet Hawkeye.

Miscellaneous Anthology Chp 3: Partners (unconnected chapters. I just picked this one.)

Stale, laden with smoke and alcohol, the rank warm air closed around her like a heavy coat as she shut the thick door on the cool night. She stretched and moved across the saloon, past tables and chairs scattered by the rowdy patrons to the bar. It had been a long and noisey night, full of drinking and gambling and carousing. Like every night. And she had perhaps drunk a little too much, or perhaps she hadn’t drunk enough.

Entwined (Poem)

Day by day they see us, working side by side. And without a second glance, they see what’s Obvious to all.

We'll Be Back Again Together (lyrics)

Oh the call has come, we must leave here now Hold true don’t deceive her No time to speak the wedding vow We’ll be back again together.

Permission Pt 2

Good natured and half naked Hawkeye guided him through the small, neat apartment to her bedroom. Mustang complied as she turned him onto the bed, raising his arms in surrender as she stripped away his shirt. 

Thanks again for the tag. Last thing I posted to AO3 was June 2021. Ahhh... I should have another crack at writing something.

Pretty sure everyone I know has already been tagged, so I'll just say if you've read this far, I tag you if you want to be tagged!!

[sparkles-and-trash]

I honestly just want more of your headcanons for mha if you have them? :3

note: I have this note on my phone with all my random mha headcanons that's like, a mess of characters and plots, so it might be a bit all over the place, but here we go! tw: canon typical violence, scarring, burns etc for Dabi

Shoto is totally the type to sign his texts like "friendly regards, Shoto Todoroki", and uses super appropriate punctuation and stuff, but he also uses all the overly expressive smileys ( :3 xD UwU :c ^u^ etc) because Izuku does it, and Izuku is the first friend Shoto texted, so he thinks this is normal

and nobody has the heart to tell him otherwise

Denki having adhd is one of my favorites, I've already mentioned this, but it's kinda important to me, lol

I also love to think that Denki is a super supportive friend, and that he genuinely cares for everyone in his class, and knows them all really well, he's just a person that's so genuine and caring, it makes it very easy to open up to him!

okay Shinso and Denki are gamer boyfriends, they can sit together in the dark on their gaming computers and talk to each other on discord for hours and call it quality time

I think the burns under Dabi’s eyes were on purpose, or, at first he tried to wipe his tears when he was upset, much like what happened with Kirishima, but when he realized he couldn't cry from that eye after, he did it again to the other one so he wouldn’t cry in front of his dad and show weakness

I 100% think Hawks molts every now and then, and it makes Dabi sneeze like a motherfugger

When they were kids, Izuku worried that Bakugo's explosions would make him lose his hearing, and while it hasn't yet, he still worries about it and keeps up with the basic stuff, just in case

Bakugo realizes it one day when he catches Izuku practicing, and seeing his childhood friend sitting there trying to perfect this thing for him, just in case, with his weary and crooked hands, something just... hits him

He asks Izuku to teach him too, and once, when he's working as a pro years later, he once uses it to help a deaf child in a hostage situation, and he calls Izuku the second he has the chance to tell him all about it

Izuku cries and Bakugo pretends he doesn't hear it lmao

I think Eri loves Momo and Jirou, she thinks they’re sooo cool!

They become a safe place for her as she grows up, some older girls to ask about all sort of different stuff Aizawa and Mic might not be able to understand or relate to

oh, and Deku and Eri stays tight forever, to the point where she starts to refer to him as her brother

He gives her away at her wedding BYE I'M GONNA CRY -

If we're in the upheaval verse or any other scenario where Dabi and Shoto reconnect, I think they would realize they're more similar than they ever knew

Esp Dabi, who had Shoto built up as this perfect, glossy Endeavour 2.0 in his head for so long, only for him to realize Shoto is just the most socially awkward kid who also hates Endeavour

Shoto thinks any time they spend together is great quality time, and Dabi is just so taken aback by it lmao

Dabi loses his mind a little at Shoto's fashion sense tho, Dabi loves to be extra, as we already know, and Shoto's little cardigans and polo's and mom-fashion makes him wanna shake some edge into him

Okay, but imagine the same with Hawks and Tokoyami, but kinda the other way around

Hawks isn't exactly a fashion icon, but after he's released escapes from the commission (leave me alone it happens in my version of things), he starts to realize he enjoys expressing himself with clothes

He asks Tokoyami for ideas and stuff since he likes how edgy and personal Tokoyami looks

Tokoyami literally just wears black tho, so he's not much help, but he's willing to try

Hawks ends up wearing shit that looks like the pastel grunge/goth tag from Tumblr in 2012 lmao

But he's happy so who cares, right?

(Dabi cares, but he tries really heard not to say anything)

I also just think Hawks wanna be friendly with Tokoyami so badly, like, bond outside of work? Talk about school and friends and stuff?

And Tokoyami doesn't understand that's what he's doing because Hawks is so bad at candid social stuff because that's not really something you can train for, yanno?

So he thinks Hawks just wants information, like when they first met, and Hawks is like... so lost lmao

I know they're not friends in canon, but I looove Mirko and Hawks as besties

I just think she'd be great at taking care of Hawks and teaching him social skills and stuff without being condescending

Dabi would do it, but he's just as bad as Hawks and doesn't wanna learn anyway lmao

Okay and finally, Shoto totally used to have a crush on Hawks

Just a distant school boy crush, and it ended years ago, but he still thinks it's a little weird when Hawks and Dabi starts dating at first lol

Shoto would totally tell him in front of both Dabi and Izuku (Shoto's boyfriend) lmao

"You know Hawks, it is a little funny that we are here now, as you were my first crush, and sort of made me realize I was gay, and now here we are and you are dating my brother who we used to think was dead haha :-)"

And Hawks is just like... ʘ‿ʘ

Izuku is blushing so hard he almost passes out lmao

Dabi finds it all fucking hilarious of course

bnha requests are open <3

[tysonfurybattlepass]

I understand I already yelled a little in the tags under your most recent art, but I feel the need to yell still. Spades is 10 feet tall or larger. Massive. Curled up on the throne like this, in an empty space, he looks average sized or even small. His face is contorted into a scowl, but there's an element of something else there, an element of pain, sadness perhaps? As deadbeatdadjokes pointed out, he still keeps hold of the crown, even when he's trying to rest. Of course the throne is torn. The throne is torn apart. His life is torn apart. He can't escape from this even when he's trying to rest. His hatred follows him everywhere, constantly. As you said, he needs a melatonin to forget about his war crimes for a few hours. The only time he's peaceful.

Yeah, your art put me in a mood I just had to give you this mess and I am supposed to be asleep right now but I am not 😎

I AM HOLDING YOU SO GENTLY IN MY HANDS LIKE A BABY BIRD RIGHT NOW.

while i absolutely love hearing other people’s interpretations of what’s going on in my work, the emotion i drew into this image on purpose is fear.

i think what really captures me about this abhorrent character is the inherent and oxymoronic fragility of his position at the top of the food chain. apex predator is not an easy title to maintain for any significant period of time.

he is such a control freak to an unsustainable extent and so, so obsessed, he’ll gladly poison or trample everything and everyone around him with his own corrosive drive toward revenge until there’s nothing left. he knows everyone wants him gone. he knows theyre waiting for an opportunity to reenact that scene from lion king where the hyenas eat scar alive. his paranoia is deep set and destructive, but not necessarily unwarranted. he is alone, in constant danger, surrounded by people who want him dead, and it’s 100% his own fault.

this isnt the only instance of tragic irony the character represents. like spamton, king spade’s story is punctuated by an inability to break out of the role laid out for him by the narrative. he is a darkner, created and sustained only to act as a device for the advancement and entertainment of lightners. he’s one of the few darkners that actively fights against this admittedly pretty fucked up class system, and only due to some likely immense religious trauma associated with being left alone in the dark by an uncaring god that didnt even know he existed.

but, by rebuking the lightners he has merely colored his obsession with them differently, only succeeding in swapping religious adoration for seething acidic malice. even as he thrashes against the chains of predestiny and tries to flip the script, his identity is still fundamentally tied to the lightners he’s trying so hard to wrench free from. he does not see the issue with this because he is stupid<3

he also does not see the issue with being an insufferable prick to everybody around him for the sake of The Cause. he is well aware of the risks, and no doubt hardly sleeps more than an hour or two a night due to the constant threat of being fucking assassinated, but i think he thinks himself smart enough to weasel his way out of (or completely shit stomp) any potential uprising or coup. and he’s right. for a while at least.

fear is a powerful but fleeting motivator, and when it inevitably wears off and the smoke clears and everyone sees that you are alone at the top, you will be eaten by your own dogs.

[xlynnbbyx]

Attention fanfic writers! If you write for Jensen or Dean Winchester I have an idea for a series for anyone who wants to do it. I would write it myself but I am not good with writing. I can come up with ideas but writing it I get stuck. Plus I mess up on punctuation sometimes. So I figured I would share my idea so if someone wants to write it they can. Since it will be long I am adding a Keep Reading tag so read under the cut to see my idea. 

I want to take a small thing from The Boys and bring it to the Supernatural word. The reader can be mute like Kimiko was on The Boys. Meaning she can hear but doesn’t talk. She uses other ways to communicate. But the thing is she hasn’t lost the ability to talk permanently. She can experience trauma to where she just doesn’t talk. You can have it to where doctors say she is fine and will talk when she is ready. Dean can be the key to getting her to finally start talking again. For Dean you can do Hunter Dean or AU Dean. 

AU Dean- Reader can be a friend or sister to Benny(yes I gotta have best friend/big brother Benny I adore him). Benny can be living next door to Dean. Reader can get trigger by something and ends up huddled on Dean’s porch. Dean finds her huddled on his porch scared. Benny can come running over explains to Dean who the reader is, what trauma she experienced(the trauma experienced is up to you), and that she can hear just cause of her trauma doctors say she won’t talk until she is ready. Dean of course thinks she is beautiful. They can spend time together Dean helping her come out of her shell. She helps Dean feel like a better man. They fall in love and she finally speaks Dean being the first person she talks to. Of course Sam can be included as well whatever other characters you want to use. 

Hunter(canon) Dean- Cas can bring the reader to the bunker. He can explain to Dean & Sam the reader was held captive and torture by either demons or whatever you want the say. Cas can tell them he rescued her and healed her. But reader won’t talk she communicates different ways. Cas can say she is fine and will talk when ready but he wants to keep her safe. They set her up in a room in the bunker and do their best to make her feel comfortable and safe. Eileen can be included in this if you want. Of course same as AU Dean he helps her she helps him. They fall in love Dean is the first one she talks to making him fall deeper in love with her. 

This can also work for if you write Jensen Ackles series as well. The reader can be Gen & Jared’s friend. Of course she is mute due to trauma(the trauma she experienced is up to you)she experienced. Jensen can meet her when visiting Gen & Jared. Gen & Jared can explain to Jensen reader is mute but she can hear she just communicates in different ways. She can tell Jensen doctors say she is fine that she will talk when she is ready. They can tell Jensen with their house being noisy with the kids she needs a quiet space so she isn’t overwhelmed too much. They can ask Jensen if she can stay with him since he is divorced & the kids are with their mom mostly. Jensen can agree to it. Reader and Jensen get to know each other of course. Reader helps to heal Jensen he helps to heal her. They fall in love then the reader finally talks Jensen being the first one she says something to. He falls even more in love with her. 

The series can be however long you want to make it. They have to include fluff, a little bit of angst, crack(funny stuff), smut(cause I am a hoe when it comes to Dean & Jensen), fuffy smut, any trigger warning you need to add since it deals with trauma, and no matter which one you choose it has to end happy. You can add whatever characters you want. If anyone does write this please tag me in it!! I would do it but I suck at writing. So I know it wouldn’t be any good. Just whoever decides to write it or get inspiration from it please let me know!!